Slasher x T!Male Camp counselor reader +18
1.8k words
“Fuck fuck fuck, oh my god, what the fuck!”
Muttering small curses under your breath was all you could do to keep relatively calm at the situation you found yourself in:
Tucked in a closet clutching a pocket knife, praying that whoever was out there massacring your fellow counselors would get mauled by a bear or gunned down by cops. Neither were likely, as the woods surrounding Camp Mudwell mainly housed small critters and the occasional coyote, and the cell service out here was spotty at best, making any call for help nearly impossible.
Truthfully, you were pissed. None of you should’ve even still been there, having been scheduled to leave a day or two after all the kids went home. No one could leave until the camp was clean for next summer, however, and the more your coworkers slacked off, the more you had to clean until it had taken you a full week to clean the whole place by yourself. If they’d just just done their fucking jobs, you’d all be home by now and-
You shook your head; what good would come from worrying about what could’ve happened? No, you needed all your focus to survive this. So far, you know that 4 out of the 10 counselors (including yourself) were definitely dead, having discovered 3 of their mutilated bodies an hour or two prior.
You’d pushed a wardrobe, chair, and bookshelf against the cabin door to act as a barricade, but even you questioned its effectiveness. You’d seen how strong the murderer was when he flung your 4th coworker’s lifeless corpse across the mess hall. He, Pedro, had successfully unlocked your boss’ emergency buckshot rifle and was going to shoot the bastard dead but, as fate would have it, the gun jammed and the killer took the opportunity to stab through his chest.
You bristled at the memory, but it barely registered among your already trembling form. You’d seen the whole thing from your hiding spot beneath a table. The killer had walked right past you, completely unaware of your presence.
Fast, crunching footfalls pulled you from your thoughts; they got closer and closer before stopping, instead replaced with pounding on your door and Darcy’s hysterical crying.
“H-HELLO? IS SOMEONE IN THERE? PLEASE LET ME IN! PLEASE, PLEASE HE’S GONNA KILL M-”
You wasted no time moving to let her in but it was too late; as you went to remove the last obstacle of your barricade, her screaming was abruptly cut off and in its place filled quiet…gurgling? You didn’t have time to guess what had happened to her. Not with another person banging on your door; this time in slow, powerful THWAK!’s, aimed towards the doorknob. This fucker was trying to break the door down.
You realized a bit too late that even with the wardrobe still securely in place, he was going to succeed.
With one final kick, the door flew open, sending wooden splinters flying from where hinges yanked loose. He found you stood dumbly in the middle of the dimly lit cabin, shaking like a leaf yet still possessing enough wherewithal to clutch that tiny knife of yours.
He could almost laugh at such a sight! You, as small and terrified as you were, pointing a blade at him as you muttered barely above a whisper for him not to come any closer.
Such a small voice. The other counselors had either screamed obscenities or plead for their lives in shrill, nasally tones that only further pissed him off.
How would your screams sound?
In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance between you and knocked the blade from your hands with one fist, the other grabbing your neck and lifting you off the ground. You kicked and clawed at his arm, mask, anything; if your thrashing phased him, he didn’t let on. He was too busy slicing through the hoodie you wore. One cut down the middle made it easy to rip off even with your wild flailing.
Now bare, he looked you over again; this time noticing your broad shoulders and toned arms previously hidden. He trailed the back of his knife along your skin, just hard enough to feel the cold metal. He traced your features carefully; down your sternum and along your scars, across your stomach. Relishing in your flinches and gasps, he made his way down your happy trail until his blade caught your boxers.
The killer looked up for the first time since he’d started his ministrations, he wanted to see your face when he-
Oh, right. You needed air; he didn’t want to kill you just yet but somehow failed to notice your fight slowly dying down.
He threw you to the ground and watched as you gasped for air and held your throat. You scrambled for your previously discarded knife through fits of coughing and this time couldn’t contain his laughter at the thought.
Even after seeing first hand how outmatched you were, you still wanted to fight? Still held out hope after almost dying? How could he not be amused!
Out of curiosity, he let you regain your composure a bit; silently watching you settle for a broken tennis racket when you couldn’t find your knife. You kept your eyes on him the whole time, it almost felt like a game. Him not moving a muscle while you stared him down from your spot on the floor, both of you waiting for the other’s first move.
This time, you took the lead, lunging forward in an attempt to swipe out his legs, but he jumped back too quick. You narrowly caught yourself from face-planting and he used this opportunity to kick you in the stomach - hard.
The kick sent you flying backwards, your head audibly knocking the wall behind you. He had to give you credit, that impact should’ve knocked you out or at least left you doubled over; but here you were, standing up like you barely felt it.
In one fluid motion, you threw a flimsy comic book at him - you must’ve grabbed it on the way up, he figured - and tried to run past him.
You’d only managed to open the door a crack before he slammed you against it using the back of your neck as leverage, effectively sealing your exit and fate.
With your back to him, you couldn’t fight back anymore. It was over.
This was it; you were gonna die here, in a dirty cabin, miles from home. How long until they found your body? Maybe one of your coworkers would escape and alert the cops. Or maybe you’d all be here, rotting away until someone opened camp next summer..
You felt his free hand grab at your waist, roughly pulling you back until your ass was firm against… his hips?
One strong hand held your nape as the other ground your ass back into him in slow, harsh movements. It took a few seconds for the shock to wear off but once it did? You thought you’d gone insane.
Insane for getting caught, insane for not struggling against his hold, and especially insane for the moan you were just barely keeping down.
He’s a murderer for fuck’s sake! He just killed your coworkers and was probably about to kill you too!The thought made your already hastened heartbeat pump faster for all the wrong reasons.
Without thinking, you rolled your hips back and he stilled. Ah, you thought, you were definitely dead n-
A yank followed by cold air hitting your now bare ass pulled you from your thoughts. No sooner had you registered the jeans crumpled around your thighs, or the sound of a zipper from behind, had you felt something warm press against your cunt.
You shivered at the feeling. His tip slid up and down your slick hole before thrusting in without warning, making you yelp beneath him.
Despite his size he gave you no time to adjust, rocking you back and forth with every snap of his powerful hips. Between your wet cunt sucking him in, his balls slapping against your ass, and every cry and whimper you let out drowning out his low growls; the noises filling the cabin were downright obscene.
Looking down at you, he wasn’t sure when you started crying but he liked it. He liked knowing you were scared shitless of him despite your body betraying you.
Due to how you were pinned to the door, your neck was already tilted towards him, but he grabbed your face anyway and bit down on your cheek hard. Blood mixed with the salty tears and poured out in beautiful swirling rivulets. Neither of you knew if the cry you let out was from pain or from how perfectly his dick was dragging along your walls; both? Both.
He wasn’t even trying to make you cum at first, just wanting to get his rocks off and maybe spare you if you were a good fuck. But within minutes you were spasming around him as he kept his brutal pace. Every growl and wild pant you pulled from him further solidified a new goal in his mind: he was going to feel you fall apart around him whether you liked it or not.
The closer you got, the more you writhed under him and the more stars you saw. Still thrusting into you, he released your bruised waist in favor of reaching around your front and pinching your t-dick between his fingers. Your eyes crossed as you came instantly, covering him and your thighs.
He rut into you even faster, his own orgasm barreling down on him from how fucking tight you were clenching around his cock. He cupped your face again, this time shoving his thumb into your mouth as he flooded your puffy hole with his thick cum; stilling as he came and painting the deepest parts inside you white.
Strong arms held you in place, fully supporting your body weight lest you collapse into a fucked-out floor puddle while you both came down from your highs.
A few moments pass before he picked you up, not missing the way you gasped and clenched around nothing as he slipped out, and unceremoniously plopped you down on the previously forgotten bed.
He left your cabin as quickly as he came, closing the door behind him and leaving you reeling as your still orgasm-addled brain tried to make sense of what just happened.
You spotted a bloody handprint on your window and wondered how long it’d been there and who might’ve left it before a new, more pressing, thought filled your head:
How the fuck were you gonna explain this to the police?
‘꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦’
Accidentally deleted half the fic n had to rewrite it so I’m not proofreading; fuck it, grab balls or whatever they say.
