#slasher!soap

[ethereal-night-fairy]

I wonder how Slasher!Soap would deal with a passively suicidal victim. This was inspired by @ghouljams drabble.

Slasher Masterlist

Warning: MDNI dark themes, dead dove, child neglect, passive suicidal ideation, attempted murder, implied horny thoughts.

Exam season is getting to you. The food here sucks. You hate your dorm, all your friends seem fake and superficial. You don't enjoy your course work. The professors here are assholes and your job keeps forcing you to work overtime when you clearly needed to focus on your exams.

You're fed up with life wondering why you even bothered applying to this college major when you knew it wouldn't make you happy. You suppose you always wanted to make your parents proud yet they hardly ever cared. They didn't even bother to see you off when you left. Too 'busy' as they put it.

But you're too far in to drop out now. You've already spent too much money to back out. It always been like this. It's always you putting everyones needs above your own. You shot yourself in the foot this time though. You could've picked something you liked to study, but you didn't. Only because you had a small hope if you followed in the footsteps of your parents perhaps they'd pay attention to you. But you're an idiot for hoping that. It's the same story retold ever since you were a child.

At least you're good at putting up a front. No one ever suspected anthing from you. Not your family, not your so called 'friends'. You suppose you can attribute that to your acting skills. You're good at lying, you're good at masking your emotions. You're good at plastering on a smile to get through the day. As exhausting as it is you can put up with it for now. You're living like a zombie, a put together zombie but a zombie nonetheless.

But it seems that God was merciful. Because you were sent someone who'd finally put an end to your suffering. During a time where all you did was work, study and sleep he promised you everything you've ever wanted. An early grave where you could finally rest.

He promised you he was going to end your life and you felt relieved? Most people would be afraid but not you. No, unlike everyone else you were flooded with an overwhelmingly amount of relief. After so many years of pain and suffering were you finally going to be put out of your misery?

You first noticed him on your late walks home from work. There was someone following you. Someone keenly keeping an eye on you. For the first time in your life someone had taken an interest in you.

Then the notes started appearing in your dorm. Short cute but threatening notes detailing the things he wanted to do to you. Soon after the calls started. They always came late at night when you'd get home from work. And strangely you enjoyed them. Not in some sick perverse way, but just because someone wanted to talk to you. You didn't mind playing along to keep his attention on you.

For once in your life you don't have to worry about anything because you knew things were coming to an end. For once someone had shown some kind of attraction to you. Even if it is just to objectify you. You didn't mind though. Any attention is better than no attention. This takes the whole blame and guilt off you for wanting to kill yourself. No one would blame you for wasting money, no one could technically be mad at you for dying when it wasn't your fault.

And that's what you wanted, a blameless death, one that no one could argue and fight over. If someone else does kills you it doesn't really count as suicide does it? And your parents wouldn't blame themselves because you didn't do it to yourself.

It's perfect. A win-win situation for both parties.

But that's what ends up fucking everything up.

When he finally came to end your life your nonchalant attitude to dying threw Soap off his game. The worst part to Soap is that you're not even horny about the whole ordeal. This isn't a kink thing to you like he suspected in the beginning. Which confuses Soap even more because you were playing the game so seamlessly up until now.

You led him on with your fake pleas for mercy, your fake cries of fear, your fake gasps of terror. But everything was a lie, you led him on. And for some reason that upset him more than anything else. The fact he was fooled playing his own game.

Most of his victims play into the fantasy at the start thinking it's some sort of BDSM scene. Not realising they're actually going to die. He thinks that's mainly due to how handsome he is. No one ever suspects the handsome ones.

And then they end up dying in utter terror and agony. And oh how he loved their screams changing from that of pleasure to pain. Knowing full well they couldn't do anything to stop him. No amount of begging or pleas were able to spare their lives.

While with you, you fully expected to die at his hands and he finally understands now it was you who was playing with him. It was you who was weaving the game and puppeteering him to your end goal. He never had control when it came to you.

You stare at him with tired eyes and a peaceful smile as his hands tightened their way around your pretty neck. The same neck he left a necklace of hickies on just a few seconds earlier. He squeezes down watching your body fight your mind. But there's no rush of endorphins, no blood pooling to his cock as he watches you gasp because there's no real fight in you. You've long given up.

And he hates it. He hates he was tricked, he hates he was made into a fool, he hates your dead eyes. He hates that you look so broken.

Only because it wasn't him that broke you.

So his hands loosen and the colour returns to your face while you look at him confused but more upset than anything.

"There's no fun in killing the dead Dove..." The tiredness re-enters your eyes as you look at him with your withered soul. You looked so done with the world. So beaten down that killing you would be akin admitting defeat to himself.

There's no way he'd allow someone to beat him at his own game... Especially not someone as pathetic as you. He'll just have to breathe life back into you and restart this game in his favour. He'll win one way or another. Even if he has to break his own rules to do it.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.

[frogchiro]

now I know we’ve been hyping up slasher ghost, but in the og post you also mentioned soap (my bbg, love of my life), you have any thoughts rolling around about his slasher era?

Yes yes I'm glad someone noticed it!! And thank you for this question darling I was waiting for it tbh ;;

Yes, Soap is in the Slasher!Ghost universe too and is a killer as well! Contrary to Simon he wasn't discharged from the military after the mysterious murder of a few soldiers. Sure he was a suspect of collaboration with Simon but ultimately they couldn't prove shit to him so they let it go and pinned the blame to Ghost (who then that one time truly didn't do it but the military higher-ups needed a scrape goat and while he wasn't sentenced he was thrown out and pinned with a 'killer' badge)

Soap felt incredibly guilty after that whole Simon fiasco, he was his friend, his comrade, his L.T so after a few months he made the decision to abandon the military and go after his former lieutenant.

Now he lives a few kilometers away from the town where Simon lives on a small farm where he keeps a few chickens and lives off of what he grows. They are in contact after finding each other again (more like Johnny found Si but shhh). While he isn't as....active in being a slasher as he was in his younger years, he will drop everything to rush and help Simon if he ever called, helps him with covering up any evidence etc.

That's basically the gist of Foap in the slasher universe, let me know if anyone would like more <3

[frudoo]

I need the 141 as a group of slashers. Their shared wife gets harassed at the store and tells them when she gets home?

Might send more asks for slasher 141 if that's okay

You can ALWAYS send me slasher!141 ideas are you joking?!

Warnings: Mentions of sexual harassment (NOT by the 141), typical mentions of weapons and violence. Fem!Reader.

It’s pouring down freezing rain, the cold seemingly nudging past your skin and settling itself into your bones. Your hands shake as you fumble with your keys, letting out a defeated wail when you miss the lock for the fifth fucking time. Throwing your keys in your purse, you settle for knocking, then calling out that it’s just you. You’d rather not have one of your lovers answering the door with a machete to your throat. They always have had a flair for the dramatic. 

     It’s John who answers the door. Immediately he takes in your shivering figure and his bushy eyebrows furrow with concern. Scanning the vast land of the farm and finding nothing that could be perceived as a threat, he gently takes the purse from your hands. Strong arms hustle you inside and he kicks the door shut, working quickly to get you out of your sopping wet clothes. 

     “Darlin’, what happened? Why’re you cryin’?” John asks softly, hanging your coat on the rack—he can tell it’s bad by the way you flinch just from the question. 

     Simon, Johnny, and Kyle trail into the living room to greet you, but when they see your state, it’s like you can feel the tension in the air, ready to snap like a weathered rubber band. Simon comes to scoop you up, uncaring of the drenched clothes you still have on, and carries you up the stairs. He jerks his head to signal that everyone else should follow him. 

     While Kyle runs you a bath, John finishes undressing you, tossing your clothing into the hamper with a wet plop. You’re still shivering, tears streaming down your chilly cheeks, and it breaks their hearts. John cups your face in his big, warm hands, crystal blue eyes scanning for injuries or any reason you might be so spooked. 

     “You gonna answer my question, sweetheart? What’s happened?” 

     His voice is soothing, and you lean into the comfort of his touch. He always has been the best at calming you down, rich gravel filling your ears until you remember how cherished you are in his eyes. In all of their eyes. 

     “T-there was a man,” you stutter, head whipping around violently with your fist raised when Johnny wraps an arm around your waist to help you into the bath. “No!”

     “Hey, hey, jus’ me, hen,” Johnny’s eyes widen as he throws his hands up in surrender, backing away to avoid getting hit. 

     “I’m sorry,” you weep, covering your face with your trembling hands as Johnny tries again, this time successful in getting you settled into the warm water. 

     “Wha’ did he do?” Simon’s raspy voice sounds from the corner of the room, eerily calm. “Wha’ did tha’ fucker do?” 

     “The man… I-I was at the store to get groceries, but there was- he… he grabbed my ass and my tits and f-followed me out to the car. I drove away really fast so he couldn’t come after me, but… I’m sorry, I didn’t get the groceries.”

     “Oh, sweetheart,” Kyle frowns, gently reaching out to grab a hold of one of your hands. “The fuckin’ groceries are the least of our concerns.”

     You nod noncommittally, sniffling and just barely squeezing Kyle’s hand to let him know you appreciate the gesture. John’s jaw is clenched tight, and you can practically hear the rage brewing in his brain. Such a sweet thing traumatized by some stupid fuck who wanted his hands full of their soft, perfect girl. He wants—needs—to make him pay. John turns on his heel and just about rushes through the door, but your gentle voice stops him in his tracks.

     “John? Please stay,” you beg so, so prettily, pouty lips still swollen from how hard you’d been crying, and John’s far too weak a man to deny you. 

     Hesitantly, the captain trails back inside the bathroom, giving the other three a curt nod. They understand instantly, and Simon is cracking his knuckles so loud you’re almost sure the city can hear it. 

     “Bring the bastard back alive,” John commands, and faster than you can blink, Kyle, Simon, and Johnny are out the door.

     “I’m sorry,” you whisper, eyes focused on the ripple of the bathwater when you submerge your hands.

     John shakes his head, tilting your chin up so that you look him in the eye. He leans forward and nuzzles the tip of his nose against yours, a silent question. When you nod he leans in to kiss you long and slow, pressing his forehead against yours as the two of you stop to catch a breath.

     “No need to be sorry, sweet girl. You’ll get a turn on him soon enough.”

[psychotic-star-girl]

[ilovelosermen69]

Girls when they see a man in uniform

[krypticcafe]

Mfs be like "oh he's my babygirl<3" or "he whimpers fr" or "submissive and breedable". And then the whole character tag is like FULL of that character being dominant and topping the reader. Ummm?? Excuse me, but I thought we were gonna be making them ride us until all that's left are pretty little tears, nonsensical babbling, constant begging, relentless whimpering, knees buckling, thighs trembling, hips twitching, frantic gripping, feverish sobbing, and loud moaning, all from a hot, needy mess desperate for release???

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Slasher Handler

Description from the discord:

My next (first fanfic) project is going to be an AU for charmed!slasher!Simon where reader knows he's dangerous, finds out he's literally a killer, and decides to provide him with ✨enrichment✨ to help him… I dunno? Control his urges? Channel them into good? Meet the need before the distressing behavior starts? They're way over their head.

Series Content Warnings: DARK FIC, 18+/MDNI, Alternate Universe - Serial Killer 141, Serial Killer Simon "Ghost" Riley x Final Girl Reader, sexual content, dubious consent, under-negotiated kink, mind games

Please review chapter specific content warnings

Read on AO3

Part 1 - Meeting Your New Neighbor (SFW)

Part 2 - Grocery Shopping (SFW)

Part 3 - Meeting Kyle For Coffee (Time skip) (SFW)

Part 4 - Consequences (To Meeting Kyle For Coffee) (NSFW)

Part 5 - Reward (For Being So Considerate) (NSFW)

Part 5.5 - After the Reward (From Simon's POV) (NSFW)

Part 6 - Simon's Been Restless (NSFW)

Part 7 - Date Activities (NSFW)(Not Spicy!)

Part 8 - Romance Isn't Dead (NSFW)(Not Spicy!)

Part 9 - Pneumothorax (NSFW)

Gaz Interlude - A look into the medical side of things (SFW)

Gaz Interlude Part 2 - The other side of the medical side of things (SFW)

Soap Interlude - Guess who's out on good behavior? Part 11 - Slip Lead (NSFW)

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Red Summer | Ghoap x F!Reader | Slasher!AU

After breaking up with your long term boyfriend you take a job working as a camp counselor in Northern Vermont. Seven weeks of swimming, volleyball, archery and hiking. There's even a hot lifeguard. It seems perfect until you find something evil is lurking in the woods

Tags: Slasher AU, Ghoap x Reader, intro chapter, nondescript reader, dark fic

Chapter 1: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

5.5k words

It smelled like Summer. Ozonic and earthy, carried into your car by the breeze as you drove North through winding roads. Montpelier was two hours behind you now. 

Despite the eighty degree heat, Vermont was lush and green. Only a couple more miles of shaded forest roads before you reached camp. At least you hoped so. Your maps app had been slow to load the last twenty miles.

The place was North, nestled between the border of Canada and the New Hampshire state line. It was gorgeous though. Anytime you thought about moving out of New England to somewhere cheaper the next season changed your mind. The trees just didn’t look as pretty in fall or the snow as splendid in winter. You just wished it was cheaper.

Suppose that’s why you took this job, as much as it didn’t appeal to you. Camp counselor for seven long weeks, the pay was shit but your food and board came free. After a bad breakup you didn’t have time to find a new lease so your life was packed up into a rented storage box with anything valuable shoved into the back of your car. 

A friend of a friend recommended it. She’d been working here for years, attended for even more. She was an old money New Englander. Boarding school outside of Boston and all that. She was nice though. Got you the job over any qualified candidates. It wasn’t nepotism but whatever it was called you wouldn’t complain.

Your car dinged. Low gas. Shit.

Scrolling quickly through the map you saw a gas station up ahead. You’d just make it… hopefully. 

You let out a sigh of relief as you pulled into the station. It was older with dusty windows and sun-faded posters for cigarettes. 

A piece of paper was taped to the pump.

“Reader broken. Pay inside” scribbled in sharpie.

You sighed and headed inside. 

It was dusty inside too. A couple aisles of brightly packaged food and walls lined with fridges filled with beer and soda. The man behind the counter glanced up from his book when you walked in.

He was handsome. Black with dark, short cut curly hair and big brown eyes. Much too handsome to be working in the middle of nowhere. He’d look more fitting in the corner of a bar, buying you a drink. He smiled up at you and your heart might have skipped a beat. 

“Pump three? How much?” He was English… strange.

“Just…uh… ten bucks.” You stumbled out. 

“It’s the accent,” he chuckled. “It throws everybody off the first time.” 

“It’s a strange place for an Englishman to be, I guess.” You swayed awkwardly. 

“I go to Middlebury. Easier to get a summer job than fly home.” He shrugged. 

“Understandable.” You weren’t an expert on Vermont geography but you swore the college was on the other side of the state. 

“Ten on three.” He said, nodding his head towards the window.

“Oh yeah. Thank you.” 

“You still got to pay, love.”

“Oh fuck, yeah. Sorry… uh… Kyle.” You read his name tag before digging through your tote bag, finding the last bit of your cash.

“No worries. What brings a girl like you out here.”

“I’m working at the camp.”

“Weldon lake, right?”

“Yeah. First time… I’m going the right way, right?”

“If you continue up the road. There will be a sign when you need to turn.” He handed you your receipt. 

“Thank you.” 

“Hey!” You were half way out the door when he called. “Stay alive out there. Heard the campers can be down right evil.”

“I’ll try!”

The rest of the journey was smooth, there was a sign just like Kyle said. Another one after that taking you down a long gravel drive and into a dirt parking lot. A couple other cars were there already. 

You made sure everything important was locked up in the trunk before grabbing your duffel bag and tote. You hoped you brought enough sunscreen. 

The sun was warm on your back as you made your way up to the main building. Two other girls were hanging around on the porch. They each wore matching white baseball shirts with red sleeves and trim, each labeled with STAFF on the back. 

“Hey, you’re Sophia’s friend, right? I’m Janie.” She jumped down from the porch fence. “I love your braids by the way.”

You’d done your hair before leaving, figuring it’d be easier to keep clean braided than fight for limited shower time. 

“I’m Natalie,” The other girl greeted. You introduced yourself, thanking Janie for the compliment.”

“I think your cabin is next to mine. I can take you over once you check in.” Janie said.

Check in was easy enough. Sign a couple more papers, show off your ID to prove you were you and get your cabin assignment, key and two staff shirts. Tomorrow was orientation before the campers arrived Monday morning. Tonight was for getting to know everyone. 

“So, where’s this cabin?” you asked, walking outside.

The girls grinned and led you down the path. Everything seemed to branch off from here. They pointed out where the dining hall was just past the main office next to the nurse’s station.

“Don’t expect much. They’re still recovering from when Covid almost killed this place.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. They had to raise fees and a bunch of parents freaked out. Guess an extra hundred dollars really threw all the millionaires off.” Natalie laughed. 

Next was the pool, fully fenced in and surrounded by two tennis courts and two basketball courts on either side. 

“Hey lasses!” A man called from the pool, leaning over the chain link fence. Natalie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “Who’s the new girl?”

He had a thick Scottish accent. Lots of transplants for the area, you guessed. He was also handsome. Muscular with a dark mohawk and light eyes. He was shirtless with very short and tight red shorts on and a silver whistle around his neck. He was dripping water over the ground.

“You say that like you aren’t also the new guy, Johnny!” Natalie called, clearly annoyed already. 

“Nat hates him.” Janie giggled. 

“It’s been three hours and he’s already tried to fuck half the counselors. He’s a dog.”

“One I’d put on a leash.” Janie laughed.

Johnny walked over, still dripping wet. His crocs squeaked with every step. 

“Johnny,” he grinned, holding out his hand to you. You introduced yourself as he shook your hand excitedly. He had a tattoo on his side, up by his ribs. You couldn’t see all of it but it looked like a heart with someone’s initials in it. S and something else, you couldn’t tell for sure. “Beautiful name for a beautiful gal.”

Your cheeks felt hot as his blue eyes traveled over your body. 

“It’s going to be a fun seven weeks with all you bonnie lasses around.” He grinned. Nat looped her arm around yours.

“Down dog. We still have half the camp to show off.”

“You know where to find me. Pool looked like the lake when I got here.” He raised his hands up as he walked backwards towards the pool again.

“Come on, before we lose Janie.”

“He’s hot!” She defended. 

“You just like him because he got your name right on the first try.”

“He’s intelligent too!”

The cabins were next. Ten white painted buildings split in half with about eight beds on each side and a shared bathroom in the back. They formed a circle around a fire pit with log benches. 

You had cabin room 14. Janie was the building next door in 15 and Nat with 16 sharing with her. They took turns explaining everything.

“Your bed is the only non bunk and the chest underneath locks so anything you don’t want the campers to find should go there.”

“Basically all your shit. I had a copy of Crime and Punishment stolen last year. Fucking Crime and Punishment like any of these kids could read Dostoevsky.”

“Showers are in the back. Hot water is sparse so if you want some, move quick and early.”

“Breakfast is at 8. Coffee tastes like shit unless you pour half a pound of sugar in it.” 

“You can vape just outside but if you smoke you gotta ask your neighbor counselor to watch your kids. At least thirty feet away or they’ll snitch too.”

“Weed is only for days off because they'll either snitch or demand you share. That goes for kids and counselors.” 

“Days off are randomly assigned but you should get one every other week.”

“I don’t recommend sleeping with other counselors but if you must, go to your car.” Natalie said. 

“We’ll leave you to get settled. Dinner is in an hour. You can meet everyone else then.”

“Thank you guys for everything.” You felt overwhelmed just a bit. 

They left, still arguing about Johnny. He was cute but the break up wounds were still fresh. You didn’t want to sneak around either. You weren’t a teenager anymore.

You haphazardly dumped the contents of your duffle into the lock chest before shoving it back under the bed. You had seven weeks to organize it. 

The bed was okay. A plastic covered mattress with an old sleeping bag. You should have brought your own pillow. Maybe a Target run on your next day off whenever that was. 

The ache in your muscles from driving all day hit hard the moment you sat down. 

There was a knock on the door. 

“Hey sleepyhead!” Sophia came in. You rubbed your face as you woke up. Out the window you could see the sky looked darker, a blue summer evening. “I’m glad you ended up coming.”

“Yeah. Thanks for getting me the job.” You stretched, your shoulders cracking. “It’s nice to get away.” 

“I’m sorry about you and Ale.” There it was. She was nice but always craved gossip. 

“It’s okay. Just wanted different things.”

You shrugged. It wasn’t a bad breakup, no arguing, just a slow and painful demise. He’d even offered to let you stay with him when the lease ended and he found out you didn’t have a place to go. You chose this instead. 

“Well, let’s get you something to eat. The food is incredibly mediocre but I heard a rumor that the lifeguard has beer and weed for the fire pit.”

She was not wrong about dinner. Hot dogs with a slice of Kraft cheese melted on top with a bag of chips as a side. 

You sat with Nat, Sophia and Janie. 

“There are my lovely ladies!” Johnny sat down, forcing his way between Cel and Sophia. Nat looked like she wanted to kill him. “Coming out to the lake tonight? Hope you all brought swim suits or birthday suits.”

“Jesus Christ.” Nat groaned. 

“I think we’re gonna have an easy night. Some of us had long drives.” Sophia motioned to herself and you. “Just some girl time.”

Johnny pouted. 

“Fair enough but I do expect all of you at the bonfire tomorrow.” He pointed at all of them, even Nat. “Especially you new girl.”

He got up and jogged off to another table of girls. 

“Am I allowed to call him a slut?”

“What happened to dog?” Janie asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Dogs can be trained.” 

You all laughed. You’d been worried that you wouldn’t fit in. All the other girls knew each other for years at this point. Janie and Sophia had been coming here since they were kids. Nat met Janie in high school and got a job as a junior counselor with her the first chance they got. 

It wasn’t a super attractive job and the pay was shit but it looked good on resumes and college applications apparently. Showed responsibility. Most of your experiences with camp were from horror films. 

The sun was still out as the four of you walked back. Sophia was your cabin neighbor, taking care of room 13. It’s where you all gathered. 

Sophia and you sat on her bed while she did your nails. 

“Red looks nice on you.” It was a bright cherry red. She’d picked it out, saying they should all match. 

The evening was spent talking and laughing. You asking questions about camp life and getting advice from the other girls. 

You had friends back home but you were glad you fit in so fast. Any anxiety and fear for the Summer slipped away as the sun set. 

“I’m beat.” Nat yawned. It was almost midnight now. Janie agreed and the two wandered off back to their cabin. 

“I’ll head back too. Thank you for being so welcoming, Soph.”

“Absolutely! It’s nice to get fresh meat every once and a while. It can be tough with the kids so some people get jaded. I hope you have fun this Summer and if you don’t you can blame me.” She laughed. 

The air was cool on the little porch out front. Most of the other cabins had their lights off by now and the center was lit up with fireflies, neon yellow dots. 

There was an orange dot out towards the back of one of the cabins across the way. A cigarette. The man smoking it seemed larger than any counselor you’d seen but it was dark and he was half hidden behind the building. It was Johnny’s cabin, you think. He was big. 

He waved and you waved back. He dropped the cigarette and stamped it out. The little corner fell dark and you went into your side.

You didn’t realize how quiet the world could be as you curled up in your sleeping bag. No hum of electronics or cars. No people yelling above or below you. Just the stillness of the stars.

It was an early morning. Johnny was running around the circle of cabins playing music to wake everyone up. He was shirtless again and his shorts seemed shorter than the day before. You wouldn’t complain. 

“So why did you choose this wonderful vista as a summer job?” Johnny asked, jogging up next to you as you made your way to the dining hall. 

“Needed a break. Get out in nature for a bit. I grew up in the suburbs and just broke up with my boyfriend so I guess I wanted to breathe for a bit. You?”

“Running from my previous life of crime.” He smiled. “Nah, just also trying to get away. Was military back home, knee injury did me in. Didn’t know what else to do. Hiked part of the Appliachian trail. You know, it's the same mountain range as the Highlands. Felt like I had to see them. Haven’t really felt like going back home yet.”

“You hiked alone?” You raised an eyebrow. You knew that it was one of the longest and hardest trails in the country. 

“Had a mate with me but I’m on my lonesome now.” He opened the door for you. Sure, he was boisterous but he seemed harmless one on one. Maybe a little dogish but he wasn’t going to hump your leg unprompted. 

“Shirts are needed in the dining hall, Mactavish!” Sophia called. He held up his hands in surrender before fishing out a cropped muscle tee that had been shoved into his pocket. It was a nice change of pace to be around a man that wanted to show off his own skin rather than try to get girls to show theirs. 

You told yourself before you got here that you wouldn’t look for that kind of distraction. It wasn’t worth it, especially not this early. You could look though. No harm in that. 

Bacon, Eggs and self-serve cereal was today’s breakfast. You joined back up with the girls from last night. Orientation was supposed to take up most of the day so they encouraged you to grab a couple pieces of fruit and a protein bar.

“Only fill up your water bottle in here. There are fountains elsewhere but I think they taste weird.” Said Janie. 

You were put in a group with Johnny, Sophia, and another guy named Warren. He and Sophia were long term counselors so they gladly took on the role of being you and Johnny’s tour guide. Johnny had been hired because of his lifeguard training so he already knew the layout of the lake and pool. You were scolded for not having proper shoes for hiking.

“What’s your size? I might have an old pair in my car.” Sophia offered. “If not I think there’s an L.L.Bean like two hours away. We can go on our next day off.”

You weren’t sure if you could afford brand new boots so silently hoped that Sophia did have that old pair and they fit. 

“Don’t want ya getting blisters all summer.” Johnny said. He was doing the hike in crocs but apparently did have boots back at his cabin. 

You didn’t do the full trail but Warren pointed out the different routes and how difficult each one was and which ones kids could do by themselves and which ones they couldn’t. The fields were next. A soccer field and baseball field were across the way from the cabins. It was a loose definition of each. One was a huge patch of grass and the other a diamond of dirt. Both looked a little off size wise. There was the sports supply shed that had all the equipment in it. Only a couple counselors had keys to it.

“People kept using it inappropriately.” Sophia smiled.

There was the art building, the rec hall, a path leading towards the archery field and riflery field.

“Riflery?”

“Yeah. We used to teach kids how to shoot. Mostly clay pigeons but it was one of the programs cut after Covid,” Warren explained. 

“Shame I missed it. Could have taught the kids trick shots.” Johnny joked, pretending to aim a rifle backwards over his shoulder. 

The horse stable was also closed. Too expensive to have horses here for even half the season. 

The Lake was the last part of the tour. It was on the other side of the road so to get there was an underpass to get there. It was large enough for five adults to walk side by side comfortably but the yellow light from the lamps gave it a sickly vibe. 

It ended a little ways before the beach. There were several rows of Kayaks and another shed filled with life preservers and paddles. 

“Wow Johnny! You cleaned it up well.” Warren clapped him on the back. For a moment Johnny looked irritated that he’d been touched but he shoved that emotion out of the way to make room for his usual excited self. 

“Yeah. Cleaned up the best I could.”

“It looks great, Johnny.” You were impressed. He’d even sprayed the kayaks down, bright clean plastic in a rainbow of colors.

“Yer making me blush.” He laid a hand over his heart. 

The lake was gorgeous. Cream colored sand feeding into sapphire waters. You could just see the beach on the other side, a small empty dock with a path leading into the woods. The camp side had a floating platform about thirty feet into the water. 

“Campers have to swim there and back to pass the swimming competency test.” Sophia explained. “If you can’t swim on your own you’re stuck in the buoyed area.” 

There was a ten by ten foot area cordoned off by buoys, keeping to the shallow end of the lake. Made enough sense. No one wanted to fish a dead kid out of the water.

“Let’s head back. We don’t want to miss lunch.” Warren clapped his hands together. 

The four of you made the trek back to the dining hall. You did feel like blisters were starting to form on the back of your ankles. You’d have to put band-aids on them later. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent going over itinerary for the following week. Campers would arrive tomorrow between ten and six. It was a day mostly planned out for settling them in with an inaugural bonfire that night. After that it was seven weeks of regular old American camp adventures. 

You went back to your cabin the moment you had free time. Your ankles hadn’t started to bleed but they were bright red and throbbing. You applied the bandaids and grabbed another pair of socks to wear the rest of the way. 

There was about an hour and half before dinner and final orientation from the camp managers, who, you had been told, often made themselves scarce throughout the summer to avoid having to do their jobs. You settled on top of your sleeping bag. A nice breeze came in through the screen door. Janie had told you that it was the best way to keep the building cool.  

You thought about Ale. His smile and deep laugh. How he’d wake you up in the morning with kisses to the back of your neck. How he loved your hair and ass. How he’d whisper in Spanish to you. You still had the English/Spanish dictionary he gave you shoved in a box back in the city. You missed him. Your cowboy. He would have been so disappointed to hear the stables were closed. Maybe you’d call him after all this. Ask to work something out. 

You drifted off daydreaming about the scent of his cologne.

“Bonnie! You’re gonna miss dinner!” Johnny was knocking on the screen door. Maybe Nat was right in being annoyed by him all the time. 

“I’ll just miss it.” you sighed, rolling over on the bed. 

“You never know which meal is your last. Best not to skip any! C’mon or I’ll drag ya myself.”

You would have thrown a pillow if you had one. How did he always have so much energy?

He jogged literal circles around you on the way to the dining hall.

“How are your feet?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“You were limping on the way back to the cabins earlier.”

“Oh…yeah just blisters.”

He tutted at you. 

“Got to get you some good shoes soon.”

Dinner was the same hot dogs as the previous night with a bonus of a bowl of lettuce, cherry tomatoes and a slice of cucumber. 

There was an excited energy in the room. Most people who’d snuck in alcohol or drugs said tonight was the best night to use it all. An unspoken competition of who could drink the most and still function when the first campers started to arrive. It could be fun, you mused. You were never a big partier in college and what was this if not a perfect chance to make up for that. 

The boys built up a nice fire, each poking and prodding their own side with their favorite stick. You sat on one of the log benches next to Sophia and Janie. Johnny was across the fire, his arm around the waste of another girl counselor. Ceilidh you think it was. Pronounced like Kay-lee, she’d said. Pretty name, Gaelic. Made sense for him to go after a piece of home.

“Glad he’s finally left us alone.” Nat chuckled. 

“I think they’re cute.” Sophia said. You pushed down the twinge of jealousy you felt seeing her giggle at his joke. 

Warren came around with a cooler filled with a hodgepodge of beer. He was his fraternity’s president and one of his responsibilities was to get rid of any extra at the end of the term to avoid trouble. Dry campus issues. 

You grabbed a Modelo. Ale’s old go to and one you’d gotten used to drinking. It left a familiar warm feeling in your stomach.

You drank, you danced, you ate s’mores, you laughed with your new friends. The stars seemed so bright and clear out here. Janie had you all lay out on your backs in the grass nearby as she pointed out each constellation.

“That’s the big dipper and above it is the little dipper but Draco is the constellation between them. If you guys tell me your star signs I can point it out for you.”

There was laughter nearby and you glanced up to see Johnny and Ceilidh sneaking in the dark towards her cabin. 

You had another beer. And another. Maybe one more after that. 

Someone offered you a hit off a joint so you did that too. 

The four of you were laughing and stumbling back to Sophia’s cabin. You had no idea how late it was. The fire was dying out. Warren said he would make sure everyone got back inside all right. The designated driver of drunken counselors. He was a good guy. 

You found yourself laying on your side on one of the empty beds. Sophia and Janie were on her bed, half asleep against each other. Nat and you were talking about your childhoods. 

“I broke a bone three years in a row, each time in May. I missed field day every time. My mom once pulled me around in a wagon so I wouldn’t feel left out,” She laughed. 

“How did you break so many bones?”

“Catholic school where the playground was just a parking lot. I was a wild kid. I broke my arm tripping and falling against the priest’s car. I dented it too. I thought I was going to hell.”

There was a shrill noise. Loud and stomach dropping. A scream cut off. You and the other girls all jumped to attention. It was silent except for the crackling of the fire outside. 

“Fisher cat.” Janie said, trying to convince herself.

“Or a fox.” Sophia added. 

“Did you guys hear that?” Warren said, coming in. 

The four of you nodded.

“It sounded close. I’m gonna check it out.”

“By yourself?”

“One of the other guys is gonna come with me. It’s probably just an animal. If you see Johnny tell him to go check on everyone. I want a headcount before we all go to sleep.”

You all watched from the window as Warren met another guy holding a flashlight and a baseball bat. Sophia turned on the porch light. They disappeared between the cabin’s across the way. 

“Johnny and Celilidh went off together. Should we try to find them?” Sophia offered. 

“Maybe we should just stay here. Safety in numbers.” Janie answered. 

“Safety from what? It was just an animal.” Nat insisted. 

“Didn’t sound like an animal.” You thought. No one else would say it but you were all thinking it. A slide show of clips from horror films played through your mind. 

Four sets of eyes darted around, looking out windows and the front door, waiting for some masked killer to seep through the walls.

Bang!

You all screamed as Johnny flew through the door, clutching his stomach. 

“We have to go now!” He grunted. Blood was pouring between his fingers.

“Oh my god. What happened? Where’s Ceilidh?”

“Dead… fuck.. She’s fucking dead. Fucker came in through the window in the bathroom. I tried to fight him off. I’m sorry.” He gulped. “We have to go now!”

“You’re bleeding. Please let me look.” Janie reached out and he pushed her hand away. 

“Don’t have time. We have to go. Get my car keys. I can fit us all.”

“What about everyone else?” You asked. There was so much blood, it was dripping on the floor now. 

“I don’t know… when..when’s the last time you saw anyone?”

There was another scream from outside. Silence took you over again.

“Please… we can get out and get help but we have to go now.” Johnny pleaded. His bright blue eyes were watery and his tan skin was stained red down his legs. 

“I’m going.” Sophia said, grabbing her backpack. “Fuck this. I’m not fucking dying like it’s a movie. We’re all going. Johnny, do you need help?”

“No, I can manage. I need to get my keys though.”

“I have mine. We can just take my car. It’s an SUV.” Sophia urged, crouching down to look out of the door.

“No…no…I…I uh…I have a gun in my car.”

“You brought a fucking gun to camp?” Nat’s jaw dropped. 

“Old shotgun. It works. I’m trained for this. Get to the car and I… I can kill him.”

“You’re bleeding out, Johnny.” Janie cried, reaching for him again and once again being pushed away. 

“Come with me.” Johnny looked at you.

“I…I…I don’t know.” You were shaking. It didn’t seem real. Too cliche. A real life spree killer running around the woods of a Summer camp. Sophia was right, you didn’t want to die like it was some movie. 

“He knows I’m weak. He’ll go after me first. We’ll get my keys and if he shows up… you take them and run.”

“You..can’t sacrifice yourself.” Your voice warbled.

“It was my job to do that. If I can’t die saving my country, I’d like to die saving a group of pretty girls.”

Johnny was pleading. He seemed to know he couldn’t do it on his own. You thought about Ale saying you needed to stand up for yourself more. You never did. You didn’t stand up to bullies in high school, rogue professors in college or shitty demeaning bosses. You didn’t even stand up for yourself when Ale said he wanted a break. 

Nat was saying how you should all just run to Sophia’s car. She had her keys. Sophia was agreeing. Janie was crying silently. 

“I’ll go.” You forced the words out like vomit. It was that or actual vomit.

“Okay.” He almost smiled. “Sophia, turn off the lights. We’ll give you a signal when it's safe to come out. Then we all run to the parking lot.”

“What’s the signal?” Janie sobbed.

“I’ll whistle.”

You were shaking so much you worried you’d fall right down the front steps of the cabin. Johnny was in front of you, shoulders hunched up, his eyes darting everywhere. Sophia turned off the lights, leaving the two of you in near darkness. The fire was nothing more than orange smoldering logs. 

“You seem like you’ve done this before.” You said quietly, finding yourself holding the bottom hem of his shirt. 

“Like I said. It was my job.”

You walked on your tiptoes, trying not to make any noise. Your heart cried for the others. Even if you didn’t know them. You didn’t hear or see anyone. Maybe they all got out? They escaped already…or the killer was chasing them deeper into the woods.

You didn’t want to die. In the movies it always seemed so prolonged. The stabbings and bleeding out. Johnny had been hurt and he was still going on, trying to save you and everyone else. 

“Stay here. I’ll go check to make sure it's clear.” He said. You’d made it to his cabin, whole body still shaking just on his porch now. Your heart leapt into your throat as the door creaked open. 

“Be careful, please.”

He winked at you before heading in. You picked at the skin around your nails, a nasty old habit that you tried so hard to kick. You could forgive yourself for this relapse. It seemed an appropriate time to scratch out anxiety.

The step behind you creaked. Any light from the fire was blocked out. A arm wrapped around your neck and pulled you flush with a wall of muscle. You screamed for Johnny as a knife cut into your stomach.

It hurt worse than you thought it would. He was stabbing you over and over. All those movies and none prepared you for the sound that came from being stabbed yourself. The rush of blood in your head. You kicked and scratched the best you could, catching the gap of skin between his gloves and sleeves. Flesh caught under your nails and tore. The knife cut sideways across your stomach. Something wet and heavy hit the floor by your feet.

“Fucking cunt.” The man growled. You could have thrown up if it didn’t feel like your stomach had been torn open. 

You hit the porch face first, no strength left to even try to hold yourself up. Blood pooled in your mouth. He stepped around you and in the corner of your eye you could make him out. 

Large, well over six feet and bulky with large shoulders. A half skull mask covered the top part of his face. His head was buzzed. He had a hunting knife in his hand and it dripped your blood onto the wood and onto your face. 

“Johnny!” Your killer called. You’d doomed him too. He could have gotten away. Johnny would die and it would be your fault. They all would now and it was your fault. 

You closed your eyes as the throbbing subsided. You didn’t want to listen. He was so nice. He didn’t deserve it.

You didn’t deserve this. 

You closed your eyes and let yourself slip away. 

You heard music. Loud obnoxious music and singing from an off key baritone scot.

You opened your eyes and you were in your sleeping bag in your cabin. It was Sunday morning again. 

Shout out to @ceilidho for being an inspiration to me to write darker fics and letting me use her name for a counselor.

[solivagantingrebel]

Highly convinced that Soap is a person who'd enjoy slashers for the sole reason that he didn't go "skull mask. few screws loose. yikes" and went "very much wow. all intrigue. i care about you liking me, i hope we can be friends (and more)" when he saw Ghost.

[letternotekisses]

my masterlist! 📌 about me

OVERWATCH

mauga nsfw drabble 

cassidy nsfw hcs

nsfw mauga imagine

reaper nsfw hcs

hanzo with dragon shifter reader

nsfw cassidy drabble

OUTLAST / WHISTLEBLOWER / TRIALS

franco barbi nsfw hcs

leland coyle nsfw hcs

coyle + big grunt threesome hcs

mother gooseberry hcs

SLASHERS / DEAD BY DAYLIGHT

the trapper drabble (nsfw?)

CALL OF DUTY

[bacpain]

Been really busy lately coz I'll be boothing at Malaysia Nijigen Expo (booth E9) in Mid Valley Exhibition Centre this weekend with my friends!

I know there isn't a lot of Malaysians here but I still wanna post it here~

[ethereal-night-fairy]

Slasher!Soap x Suicidal!Reader

Sometimes false kindness is better than cruel honesty. You learned that lesson the hard way.

Slasher Masterlist

Warning: MDNI, DEAD DOVE, NON CON, smut, deep throating, forced blowjob, cruel behaviour, impact play, knife play, cum play, blood kink, spit play, slight breath play at the end, mild gore and blood play, dacryphilia, dark themes, suicidal ideation, pred/prey dynamic, hunting, stalking, mention of murder and attempted murder, horny thoughts, dub-con behaviour, crude and objectifying language, harassment and torture, manipulation, lying, fear mongering, roughhousing, taunting and baiting, threats of violence, threats of sexual violence, acts of violence, acts of sexual violence, sorry if I missed any.

Your vision was blurring. And the trees had started blending into an abstract concept, much to your dismay. You were tethering on the edge of your downfall but you needed to play the long game if you wanted to achieve your end goal. What did real victims do in this scenario? Would they shout? Would they scream for help? Or would they keep running, unable to think about anything else but escaping their would be killer. You were ill prepared, you overestimated your acting skills. But it didn't mean you weren't going to try your best. Taking a deep breath in, you prepare yourself for the next step.

“SOMEONE! ANYONE! PLEASE HELP ME! PLEASE! I’M BEING CHASED!” You were running out of dirt paths to take. He was close, you knew he was close. Even if you couldn't hear him over your pounding heart and screaming, you felt the chill of his sinister eyes on you.

“HELP! SOMEONE! PLEASE!” Despite you trying your best, a nagging itch in your head was telling you that it wasn't going to be enough. That you weren't enough. You weren't sure if the darkness was messing with your eyesight or that you were seeing black dots due the lack of oxygen from screaming. You were quickly losing your voice to the frost in the night air. The next few sentences that left your mouth came out broken and hoarse.

It wasn't long before you couldn't shout anymore. Your body forces you to stop from exhaustion and the lack of oxygen from belting your lungs out in hopes of pleasing your soon to be killer. Frantically you look around towards the direction that you just ran from. You couldn't see anything, he wasn't in the tree line.

Cold shivers run up your back as you whip your head around in every direction in an effort to spot him before he pounces on you. Your nerves are frayed with anxiety and anticipation. You just wanted to get this done and over with. You did a good job, didn't you? This was enough, wasn't it?

The longer you waited in the eerie silence of the forest where only your heavy breathing could be heard, the more your irrational thoughts ate away at any confidence you had in your performance.

What if it wasn't enough?...Fuck…you're so fucked…He's going to hurt you isn't he? Your mind again began screaming at you, telling you to run away while you can, telling you to get away before he finds you. But you couldn't move. Your limbs were locked into place. You might as well have become a deer in headlights.

Too lost in your own thoughts, you completely missed the shadow emerging from behind you. Soap took in your disheveled form, noting the drip of sweat coming of your clammy hands. Oh you poor thing, you were nervous. He twirled the knife idly in his hands, handling it as if it were some type of toy rather than the lethal weapon he knew it to be. He studied your body, he was mesmerized by the way you stood frozen with your breath heaving. It truly was a sight for sore eyes. Well to him it was.

The pretty outfit he had dolled you up in today was going to look so good shredded on the floor next to you. He was going to have so much fun slicing it from your body. He wonders if he should feel bad for what he's about to do to you but then again he has to remind himself that you brought this upon yourself. You wanted this. You forced his hand.

He'll give credit where credit is due. You tried your best, you really did. You ran like you meant it. It was a good 20 mins of you sprinting. You even screamed towards the end when the panic started setting in but he was in a vindictive mood. Also he couldn't quite feel the fear in your voice and that was enough to set you up for failure.

He wasn't going to let you win even if you did sound fearful, not now, not ever. You'll die when he's ready to kill you. But that doesn't mean he can't have fun with you in the meantime. He'll make sure you’ll both get something out of this. If nothing else he'll make sure you learn a very important lesson today. With his mind made up he took the final step towards you.

“Boo” You scream, your body jolting while trying to run away frantically but he's already tripping you up long before your legs kick into motion.

“H-HELP! SOMEONE!” You come tumbling down, your fate sealed in stone for the night. Knife gleaming in his hand, he depends upon you as you scramble to get away. Good…You were going to make this fun for him.

-

Your hands were bound. Too tight, just shy of cutting blood circulation, but you still felt the blood pooling and numbing your fingertips. To Soap you looked like an angel with your top shredded and your hands bound in front of you with its scraps. He stood above you with your face nestled into his groin as he continued to rub his hardening cock against your teary face and busted lip.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. P-please let me go..” Soap laughed at your poor attempts at negotiating. You sobbed harder after he slapped your lips with his leaking cockhead while precum stained your lips like lipgloss. It was too late for any apologies now. They weren't going to help you anyway. You dug your grave and now you were going to lay in it.

“Oh sweetheart, what's wrong? What's with the tears Dove? You wanted this, remember?” Ye were practically begging me tae hunt ye down. Bit off more than ye could chew huh?” You don't bother answering his questions realising there was no way you were going to convince him to let you go.

So you try to change tactics, you try to use your busted knees to pull yourself away from his reach. But even that is quickly halted with a boot pressing painfully down on your mound. He uses his sole to grind up cruelly, catching your clit in the process.

“Think ye can escape from me do ye?” You cry out as he nestles his boot directly below your entrance so he can force you to hump him like a bitch in heat. “Don't act like ye don't like it. Ah can hear yer slick shining my boot. Now open up or do ah have tae cut yer mouth open?”

You looked pathetic in your current state. Bloodshot eyes. Makeup ruined from crying. Bruised and busted knees. Clothes torn to shreds and your breasts decorated with red slashes. The night air had your nipples pebbling as snot and tears formed rivers flowing from your nose and eyes. But despite this you kept your mouth shut stubbornly.

“That's how ye want tae play? Fine then…let's do this the hard way.” Sudden pain erupts from your left breast. You try to trash away but the fist in your hair keeps you in place as you feel the burn and sting of flesh opening and blood spilling out. You feel his knife digging in deeper the fat of your bosom eliciting a pained scream coming from your mouth. It presents the perfect opportunity for him to shove his cock inside as he pulls your head back with his tight grip, maneuvering you like a rag doll.

You gag immediately, unable to accommodate his growing cock but that didn't stop him from trying to push it in further while you struggled. Another inch goes in and you feel your jaw locking and teeth scraping his sensitive skin.

“Watch yer teeth ye whore! Ah've no problem knocking them out” He pulls out temporarily while using the time to squeeze your jaw so it'll open wider for him. You sob and splutter out pleas to stop him but they come out intelligible. And not a second later your mouth is tasting salt and iron again. Your busted lip stretching to accommodate his whole girth. The blood mixing in with the already overwhelming taste of his seed has your brain short circuiting. Your mind was shutting down. It was trying to lull you into a dreamy headspace where you didn't have to think.

Your body on the other hand had other ideas. It screamed at you, keeping you vigilantly aware of what was happening to you and how painful everything was. Your jaw from being forcibly held open, your skin from being lacerated and bruised, your clit from being stepped on and your throat from being used so brutally. Yet you were shown no mercy for your pain.

He jerks his hips, forcing himself further into your mouth as you continue to try to pull away before your gag reflex forces you to vomit. The salty musky taste of his percum was invading all your senses. And you couldn't do anything to get rid of the overwhelming taste of him.

You wanted him out, you wanted him gone. This wasn't how the night was supposed to end. He was supposed to kill you. He was supposed to end your suffering, not add to it. Anger tears spill from your fatigued eyes at the unfairness of the situation. You had tried your best, so why wasn't it enough? Why weren't you enough?

You were so frazzled, especially with your intrusive thoughts, that you didn't clock the feral look in Soap's eyes. You continue to rub your wrists raw in a desperate attempt to gain some control back. Anything to make you feel like you weren't going off the deep end. But it was futile, no matter how much you pushed and shoved you remained firmly planted between his feet.

As you continued your pointless fight you felt his blade circle your nipple making your treacherous legs clench in need. Soap noticing your predicament withdraws the blade before another incision was made.

“What wrong luv? I thought you didn't want this. Why are yer legs rubbing together like that?” You glare at him with venom, his taunting causing your blood to boil to new heights. You hated yourself for feeling this. For being so turned on by being used like an object. There must be something seriously wrong with you. But you should have known that already, sane people aren't suicidal like you. Sane people don't taunt killers into chasing them. Sane people don't let murderers into their home and they definitely don't let killers take them out on dates.

Your many wounds sting as you feel blood trickling down your torso. Your bound hands push at his thighs trying to create some distance again but the fist in your hair was unyielding. He gives it a mean tug making you gag around his thick girth as it hits the back of your throat where it meets resistance. No doubt he was trying his best to bypass it. He was aiming to use your throat like a fleshlight.

“Yeah Gag on it ye slag! Keep fighting, it just turns me on more.” A large hand forces your head down further on the hard cock obstructing your airway while the other holds a sharp knife to your jugular. Spit was pooling and spilling down your neck leaving a sticky mess while you try your best to claw your way out. You try to kick, to scream, to pinch, anything to try to get away from this monster of a dick. But the only thing that has done for you is leave cuts all over your neck as you trash. This was exhausting, on one hand you had to physically fight off Soap and on the other you had to fight your mind for being so horny when you definitely shouldn't be.

Your bloodshot eyes glare at him through your tear stained lashes. You watch his face twist into one of ecstasy as he gets you to deep throat another inch while spit spills out of your overstuffed mouth. He closes his eyes briefly to collect himself and you take the chance to grab and twist his balls as hard as you could. If you were going to be in pain, so was he.

You think you've succeeded in your payback, you foolishly believe this would give you enough time to escape as he shouts before hastily removing his dick from your mouth. But before you could even try to get on your feet, you're struck across the face. A blinding pain blooms across your face. One that had your ears ringing and your vision blurring more than it already was.

“Ye fucking bitch!” You're on the ground clutching your face as you realise you've just been back handed. The inflamed skin immediately heats, while the bones in your face feel like they've been misaligned. You don't even have the time to cry from the pain as you watch him rub his balls to soothe the ache before his boot cruelly descends your clit.

“Two can play at this game!” He presses down sadistically as you trash on the floor unable to move while the sharp sting of having your clit crushed immobilizes you. You watch through tears as he frantically jerks off to your pained cries.

He grinds his boot down, rubbing the delicate flesh of your pussy raw with his abrasive soles. It's only when you begin to earnestly sob and plead for mercy does he have the decency to remove his foot.

“Oh look at that tsk tsk ye've left a wet spot, ye filthy girl.” Crouching down he gives your cunt a mean slap causing you to flinch before he kneels above your face while you cry out for grace. He holds his cock in one hand as he brings the others to your throat again. The knife digs in while he smears his saliva drenched rod all over your bruised swollen cheek. Making sure to give it a slap from time to time as he sandwiches his cock between his hand and your face. You jerk your head away, causing the knife to leave shallow cuts in its wake. While you try your best to keep his cock away from you.

“Keep doing that and ye won't have skin left tae cut anymore” He groans out placing his balls over your lips while straddling your head. “Kiss them better ye slag” Fear overrides your mind immediately as your mouth opens to kiss and suckle the skin of his musky balls. You turn up your nose at the overwhelming smell of sweat. But you couldn't escape this predicament even if you tried. And tired you did. He moans as he jerks off his hard cock in front of your eyes while all you could do is follow his orders.

“Open up.” He taps your tongue with his cockhead as you push your thighs together to alleviate the discomfort you were feeling from your abused clit. Your slowness to follow orders seemed to have ticked him off because not a second later the knife at your throat is being dug into the ground beside your ear nicking the edge of it. You let out a broken cry from the torment he was putting you through, but your pained sobs fell on deaf ears. He continues to ignore you while he pulls the blade out again to dig it into the skin of your cheek. The sharpness made your body jerk and shiver as you quickly opened your mouth to please him.

Despite your body struggling to accept his whole length, Soap gives you no respite. All he does is groan while shoving more of himself down your throat, taking great pleasure in hearing all the lewd sounds of you choking and gagging. He uses the knife to trace up your jaw leaving small knicks before it settles dangerously close to your bleeding ear. He digs the knife into the dirt again, freeing up his hands but leaving the threat for you to stay obedient.

“Fucking take it ye slag” both his hands tighten viciously in your hair as he uses it like a leash to pull your head to his cock while he sits his weight down on you.

Your esophagus seizes making you gag and splutter spit as he pushes through the gag reflex again and again while bullying as much of himself down a hole that had little to no training to accommodate his girth or length. The unnatural stretch of your muscles burned beyond understanding. And yet another gag erupts as his cockhead pokes your tonsil. You feel the knife digging to your cartilage when you try to jerk away. Tears are streaming down your face by this point but Soap laughs as you struggle to keep up to his pace without hurting yourself even more. You slurp and suck to keep him placated but it didn't seem like it was enough. He wanted more, and that's exactly what he took from you.

He settles his full weight on you as you feel his cock swell with his coming release. There's spit, cum and blood everywhere as Soap looks down at you almost affectionately. He watches your blown out pupils shake and flicker as you frantically look around for help. But how stupid of you to think that someone was coming to save you.

You've stopped actively fighting him. But that didn't mean your body had given up. He still feels your hips squirm and move in an effort to take his weight off your chest but he remains seated regardless. Too lost in his own carnal pleasure to care if he was hurting you. He needed to teach you a lesson after all. You couldn't be let off the hook just because you were crying and choking on his monster of a cock. You deserved to be punished after the stunt you pulled.

He's brutal in his pace refusing to let you get an air in through your mouth. But as he hunches over you and begins rocking his hips more. You begin panicking as your face is pressed to his pubic hair. His hands have left your hair in favor of placing them on the ground while he ruts into your mouth like a madman, treating your mouth like it was a fleshlight. Your throat burns from the foreign intrusion battering its walls and all you can do is lay there with your mouth open as your eyes drown in their own tears.

“Fuck I'm coming. Take it ye slag! Swallow every drop!” Soap quickly adjusts one hand to hold his weight while the other goes to pinch your nose as his hips stutter to a stop forcing your face flush to his sweat drenched pubic hair. You push your bound hands frantically at his legs to get him off before you die from the lack of oxygen in your brain but that just encourages Soap to grind his hips down more while you choke and splutter everywhere. Your eyes roll back as he seats his cock fully inside of you.

Your air gets completely cut off just as you feel the hot splash of thick viscous cum go down your burning throat while your body tries violently buck him off you but it's no use. You aren't strong enough. You'll never be able to overpower him, no matter how badly you tried. Your mind goes blank as your legs shake from the lack of oxygen and air. You feel your vision spotting while hot cum fills your stomach.

He holds down your jerking body for a good minute before he's ready to remove himself but even then his cock wouldn't soften as it continues to come all over your tongue and face. You're covered in his load. Covered in his sticky white mess. What made it worse was the way he continued to hold your jaw open to lean down to spit on your tongue and face. You had no choice but to accept his ‘gift’ since the only form of air you were getting was from your mouth.

Your muscles felt tender and wrung out. Every surface on your skin was burning with discomfort. He stops pinching your nose realising you're about to pass out if you continue to choke on his cum and spit. He looks down at you with such a satisfied yet condescending smirk and you feel yourself breaking all over again.

You stare at his smug face with your dead expression. What was all this for if he wasn't going to kill you? You take a painful breath in. One that has your body slumping with exhaustion instantaneously. Air finally re-enters your veins as you curl yourself into a ball trying to protect yourself from any further onslaught.

Now that you weren't actively choking your mind starts focusing on things that you rather not think about. The potent stench of cum, the salt and iron aftertaste, the sticky mess of cum and blood painting your abused skin. And worst of all you couldn't do anything about it. You were at his mercy until he decided he was done with you.

The smell might haunt you for the rest of your life. Just like his memories do. A broken sob leaves your body. You feel yourself shake from the impact of your cries.

What was all this for? What was the point of anything if you weren't going to die tonight?

Your sobs are the only thing you hear for the next while. That is until you hear him move. And you immediately knew your suffering wasn't coming to an end any time soon.

“We're not done” you sob louder as your wrists are cut free but not a second later he's placing you on your stomach with your face pressed into the dirt. You can't see him from your position but you feel his calloused hands all over your skin. Poking and prodding your wounds and your cold skin. Your arms are once again twisted as he cuts away your skirt to use as a makeshift rope. It's not long after your panties are being inspected by the very knife that was used to mar your flesh tonight.

“Your dripping Dove…” he says nonchalantly. As if it was just a simple fact among lovers. You feel the chill from the wet streaks of arousal decorating your legs. An involuntary gasp escaping your mouth as you feel him press the blunt side of the blade on the tip of your clit. But unfortunately for the both of you it doesn't elicit the reaction he wanted. He pushes down harder hoping to hear you beg while simultaneously raising your hips so you're propped up onto your sore knees. But you don't have it in you to speak anymore. Or to ask for mercy when you knew for a fact nothing was going to save you tonight. Only quiet tears leave you as you try your best not to hyperventilate.

But all you were hearing, tasting and feeling was him. And you wished you were anywhere but here. If you're going to survive you needed to shut him out, you needed to disassociate to get through this.

“What? Yer not going tae fight anymore? Come on Dove don't bore me so soon, ye said ye'd make is as good as the real thing.” When you don't respond other than your labored breathing he decides he'll use other methods to make you beg and scream.

“Ah think we need something tae show everyone who ye belong tae, don't we luv? How does a tramp stamp sound?” A cold shiver jolts your body as you hear the false sweetness in his tone. Your body reanimates with his threat, forcing you to try and escape his hold but your face is quickly pushed back down into the dirt. Tears water the dirt beneath your face but even if you cried all night long no mercy was going to bloom out of your pain and suffering. He was sick to phrase your predicament as a question when you knew he was going to do whatever he wanted.

“No! Soap stop! Im s-sorry I'm s-so sorry. Please don't do this.” You feel him reposition his knife directly at the small of your back as you body tries to sway away from his hold but it's no use. You know his mind was made up.

“Should ah be nice and only do the initials? But ah think Jonathan MacTavish would look beautiful carved into yer flesh, don't ye Dove?” You just sob louder feelings the bite of the blade already cutting into the skin of your back.

“Don't worry my sweet. Ah'll make it feel good while ah do it.” With a blade to your back and a hand caressing your folds you curse yourself for ever thinking you could outsmart a killer.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.

[frudoo]

How would slasher! 141 react to a reader who isn’t a fan of violence but goes absolutely HAM when one of the victims escapes and injured her boyfriends? (I know the guys are good at what they do but let’s just pretend lol)

maybe she’s dirty from doing chores outside and the victim assumes that she’s an escapee as well, says something about ‘stabbing that fucker with his own knife’ and she just sees red because this piece of shit hurt her boys and she CANNOT let that stand.

Without even thinking, she starts absolutely wailing on this person, punching, kicking, etc. She's got blood on her clothes and shes breathing heavily when the boys finally make their way outside.

how would they react? 😳

This AU has me tweakin I swear

Warnings: Dark!Fic/DDDNE. Explicit gore. Emetophobia.

You gently pick up the little rabbit and giggle, pressing a kiss to its fur before sending it off somewhere else that isn’t your vegetable garden. The pesky things have been terrorizing your poor crops, and while it’s a nuisance, you just can’t stay mad at the little fellas, let alone ask your boys to get rid of the problem. There’s a rustling in the bush next to you and you suspect it’s another bunny looking for a tasty meal, but before you can go investigate, a loud scream coming from the barn startles you.

     Typically, you’re able to drown out the sounds of your husbands’ victims—it freaks you out to hear a person in so much pain, no matter how badly they deserve it. But this is not a victim’s scream. You know that scream. It’s the same one you hear any time he stubs his toe or gets a cramp in bed. That’s Simon’s scream. Immediately you’re on alert, standing from your knees and starting towards the barn.

     Instead of seeing your husband rush out, seeking medical aid or some kind of comfort, a random man covered in dirt and blood comes stumbling outside, looking terrified. You recognize him as the guy Simon, the big, unbreakable brick wall of a man, had even said wasn’t an easy one to catch. When the man sees you also covered in muck, he laughs like he’s just won the lottery, relieved. He rushes up to you, grabbing your hand and trying to pull you towards the fields, no doubt to look for some kind of escape. 

     “C’mon, we- we gotta get outta here. Now! We have time- fuck, lady, come on! I stabbed that fucker with his own knife, so we have time,” he rambles, digging his filthy nails into your skin to get a better grip.

     His words seem to make your heart stop beating in your chest. So that’s why Simon was screaming in pain. Your Simon, your sweet baby, one of your protectors, hurt by an inferior piece of meat. A special brand of scum. You’re scratching at his face before you even realize it. 

     “Wha- bitch! Stop! I’m trying to save you, lady!” Any other time, you’re sure a man like him could have easily overpowered you, but you feel fucking invincible right now, kicking the backs of his knees until he falls.

     You pounce on his back and trap him on the ground, grabbing a handful of his hair and pulling his head back just to smash it into the dirt. He’s screaming in agony and you’re sure his nose is broken, but you can’t stop. He hurt one of your boys, and if you know anything about the pieces of shit your husbands get rid of, you’re positive nobody is going to miss the one struggling beneath your weight. You bash his head into the ground over and over—his nose is completely crushed and his teeth are busted, but you just keep going and going and going until your arms are finally tired and you’re heaving with effort.

     When you climb off of him, you see just how much blood has tainted the grass, and you feel nauseous. The man is no longer screaming, not even grunting or moaning, and you know you’ve killed him. You roll him over just to make sure, and the sight of his mangled face makes you lean forward to vomit. You end up tripping over one of his untied shoelaces and falling right on top of his body. Sobbing, you scramble away, screaming when your back hits something solid.

     “Hey, hey, it’s just me, darlin’. Just me,” John coos, helping you up and pulling you into a tight hug.

     “I-I di- I didn’t mean to,” you weep, blood and bile still sour on your tongue. “H-he… he stabbed Simon, and- and I-”

     “Okay, sweetheart, it’s fine. I’ve got you now, yeah? Deep breaths, baby, breathe with me,” John instructs, cupping your sticky cheeks in his palms and forcing you to look at him.

     Distantly, you see Johnny rushing towards the barn and Kyle dragging the man’s body out of sight, but John makes you focus on him. Only once you’re calm, sniffling instead of hyperventilating, does he explain what’s going on. 

     “Kyle’s cleanin’, and Johnny’s gettin’ Simon all patched up. He’s gonna be okay, baby. You were so brave for us, sweet girl. Do you hear me? I'm so proud of you. We all are.” 

     You nod, but you need to see Simon, make sure that he’s really okay. Make sure your efforts weren’t in vain, that the blood on your hands wasn’t shed pointlessly.

     “I wanna see him,” you hiccup, and John nods, turning you around so you can watch as Johnny helps him walk out of the barn.

     You let out a sob of relief, rushing towards the pair and wrapping your arms around Simon, who grunts in pain. You gasp and move to pull away, but Simon just holds you tighter, letting you take as much comfort as you need from him.

     “I love you,” you murmur, and he smiles.

     “I love you more, perfect girl.”

[yeyinde]

I know you plan on doing a Johnny baby trapping but it would be funny if the rest of the 141 were baby trapping their partners and Johnny and his partner actually plan things out with each other.

could you imagine, though. the plot twist is actually that he's wholesome, down-to-earth, and completely well-adjusted. the cabin in the woods? his family vacation home. his dirty secret?? he doesn't pay his property taxes.

[harveywritings92]

[Slasher au: (Reader name) is out on a friend date with Soap.]

Soap, pointing at the old movie theater: Oh-ho, the classic show for this week is Friday the 13th!

R/n: Yeah, I can’t really enjoy slasher films anymore.

Soap: why not?

R/n: Cos my boyfriends always make such a big stink about the inaccuracies in them.

R/n, quoting some of the things König & Ghost have said: Slitting a throat doesn’t kill someone that quickly! The killer should’ve switched out weapons by now, that knife would be too slippery to hold and dulled by the all the blood, Why’s he feeding the body into a wood-chipper for? An incinerator is much more efficient for getting rid of evidence …blah, blah, blah.

Soap: 👀

R/n:....What?

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Slasher Handler Interlude - Soap

Slasher Handler Masterlist

Freedom tastes like a cold beer and mince and tatties.

Johnny gives his second best roguish wink to the waitress when she comes by to clear the table. She blushes and pouts her lips in a promising way before another, older woman chases her away from the section.

“Don’t you be sniffin’ around ‘ere,” she tells him, no nonsense. “She’s a good girl, don’t need your kind of trouble.”

Johnny props his head on one hand and smiles up at her. “Aye, ma’am. Don’t want to trouble a sweet bird like tha’. But maybe you have use for a bit o’ trouble?”

She’s not at all impressed with him as she drops the bill, which reminds him that he hasn’t gotten a haircut or shave yet. The little cash he has on hand goes to his lunch, and then he’s back on the street. Breathing free air feels damn good, so he strides into the park at the end of the block to think about his next steps.

The fact that he only had cash enough for a single meal tells him that Price didn’t know he was getting released today. That or he’s punishing Johnny, but he’s not gotten in any trouble his whole incarceration, mòran taing. (Many thanks.) So probably, it’s the former. That means he needs to call the old bastard. Unless...

He nicks a phone with a bump, apology, and a smile. Knocks the man’s wallet from his hand and gives it back with an exaggerated wince. It’s not hard to guess the man’s pin and add his own fingerprint to the scanner before disabling the damn lost phone app as he strides out of the park. Two minutes later, he’s dialing a number he’s memorized back and forward.

“This is Laswell.”

“Hello, Laswell,” he purrs. “Guess who’s out on good behavior?”

She must pull the phone from her ear, but he still hears as she swears rather impressively. “MacTavish. Who knows you’re out?”

“Naebody, apparently,” Soap says, exiting the opposite end of the park. “Barely had enough cash fer a scran.”

“How long ago did you call John?”

“Now, why would ah call Price, Laswell? Pretty sure he paid to ‘ave me killed in there.”

“No, he didn’t,” she sighs.

“Nae, Price’d do the deed himself,” Johnny laughs. “Pretty sure it woulda been Castle. Anyway, you got a pretty little lock box at the bank ah’m lookin at?”

“Do not rob a bank, Soap.”

“You wound me. I got out on good behavior, remember?”

“Soap.” Her voice brooks no nonsense. “Do not rob that bank. I’ll call John to wire money over.”

“Swell,” he chuckles. “Three hours?”

“You in a rush?”

“Well, ah gotta toss the phone back in the park.”

“Wonderful. Give it four hours. And Soap?”

“Aye?”

“I paid to have you shanked. Rachel sends her best.”

“Aw, ah kent ah was yer favorite, Laswell.”