TW: This story contains violence and a CNC (consent/non-consent) scene. Please feel free to skip as this can be triggering for some.
Someone was watching you. You looked around the crowded bar as you stood at the entrance. No one was even sparing you a glance, but you could feel eyes upon you. It had been like that all day. The sky was dark and dreary from an oncoming storm and a crisp chill flowed through the city. Not even five minutes after leaving your house the hairs on the back of your neck raised and sent an eerie feeling creeping over your body. Maybe it was just because it was Halloween and everything felt spookier on Halloween. Or maybe it was because the city was being terrorized by a killer who stalked his prey in the dark of the night.
The police had identified sixteen victims so far. All were young men in their early twenties to thirties who had gone missing after a night on the town, but that's where the similarities stopped. It seemed the person murdering these young men didn't have a preference when it came to physical traits, making it harder for the police to profile the killer and his potential victims. The method of their deaths varied just as much as the victims did. Stabbed, beaten, strangled, shot execution style. And then the body was haphazardly tucked against the wall of an alley and covered loosely with an old, ratty blanket. To passersby, it would look like a homeless person trying to keep warm as the days grew colder, but the reality was much more sinister.
Living alone in the city wasn't easy when something like this happened. It made you more vulnerable but, as morbid as it seemed, you didn't feel too at risk since all of the victims had been males. That's why you didn't even think twice about running errands around the city by yourself all day. It's why you declined Natasha and Wanda's offer to come to your apartment and Uber to the bar with you. It was also why you confidently walked the two blocks to your favorite bar for the Halloween bash they had been advertising for weeks.
"Y/n! We're over here!" Wanda yelled from the left as you entered the bar.
"Nat, Wanda. I see you both started without me." You chuckled as you reached the bar and took a seat on the stool they had saved for you.
"You would be correct, but we did go ahead and order you a drink." Nat said as she slid a glass of something fruity looking across the bartop to you. "Are we forgiven?"
"I guess." You faked a dramatic sigh and took a sip of the sugary sweet drink.
"Good! Come dance with us!" Wanda yelled over the music as she held onto Nat to keep from swaying.
She was already tipsy. Wanda didn't drink much, only on special occasions like tonight, so she wasn't great at holding her liquor. Wanda was dressed as a witch in a short black dress with red accents and a pointy black witch's hat. Natasha had decided to wear a skin tight black jumpsuit and paired it with cute kitten ears. Even though you had protested, not wanting to draw the wrong kind of attention at the bar, both women had taken over your costume.
Your eyes skimmed down the 1940's pinup style military dress. It was tight and hugged every curve of your body while the neckline of the dress dipped far lower than you would have liked. Wanda had paired it with nylon stockings with a seam up the back and tall, black pumps. Nat made sure to tell you that your hair and makeup had to match the costume, so you spent the evening perfecting your victory rolls and simple makeup with winged liner and a flawless red lip, before slipping on the costume and heading to the bar.
"I'm gonna get another drink. You two go on."
"Come find us in a few minutes then." Nat said as Wanda grabbed her hand and dragged her to the dance floor.
Twenty minutes later, you had a couple more drinks in you and your muscles were starting to relax, but you still felt eyes searing into you. You glanced around once more, this time locking onto a pair of shimmering blue eyes that were staring straight at you. He was dressed as a soldier, but the Army blues didn't look like something you'd find at a costume shop. It looked authentic. The man smiled at you and began making his way across the room. You weren't looking for a stranger to take home, you just wanted to have a few drinks with your friends and then go home to eat your weight in pizza and ice cream. Instead of waiting for him to approach, you disappeared into the crowd to find Nat and Wanda.
They were in the center of the floor dancing with two strangers. When Wanda saw you, she squealed and left the guy she was dancing with to grab your hands and pull you into a hug.
"I missed you!"
"You are so drunk." You laughed.
Wanda shrugged and then started dancing with you, completely forgetting about the man she was just rubbing up on. The song changed to a slow, sensual beat and the lights dimmed. Hands gripped your hips from behind and pulled you into firm hold. Your head snapped up to look over your shoulder and you saw the same blue eyes as before. The man smirked down at you and started moving his hips. You went with it and moved against him. It was one dance, what could it hurt? When the song ended, you excused yourself back to the bar and grabbed a beer, deciding you needed a break from liquor filled cocktails. The scorching feeling of being watched burned over your skin again. Why the hell did you keep feeling like that? No one was watching you. No matter how many times you tried finding the pair of eyes making you feel so uneasy, you always came up empty handed.
"Hey."
You jumped slightly at the voice and turned on your stool to see the same man as before standing behind you.
"Are you following me?" You arched a brow.
"Can you blame me? You're a very beautiful woman." He laughed nervously. "Can I buy you a drink?"
You held up the beer bottle in your hand showing you already had one.
"Right. Um–"
"Do you want to sit?" You tilted your head slowly at the stool next to yours.
"Yeah! Yes, of course."
He hurriedly sat down and smiled at you. His gaze shifted around the bar as he tried to think of something to say
"What's your name, soldier?" You shouldn't be flirting with him when you knew that it wouldn't lead anywhere, but the alcohol running through your veins was inhibiting the part of your brain that made decisions and it couldn't comprehend the meaning of rational at the moment.
"It's–I'm John. John Walker" He fumbled.
"I'm Y/n."
"Nice to meet you." He held his hand out to you and then withdrew it awkwardly. "Nobody really shakes hands with someone they meet in a bar, do they? Sorry this is so awkward. I'm just nervous."
"Why are you nervous, John?" You leaned forward and rested your arm on the edge of the bar, holding the neck of the bottle between your fingers and swaying it back and forth.
"I don't really do this." He said, brushing a strand of blonde hair from his forehead.
"Do what? Hit on random women at bars?" You smirked.
"Y-yeah, that. I just got discharged from the Army and my friend Lemar thought it'd be a good idea to take me out tonight."
"Ahh, that explains why your outfit looks so real."
"I didn't have a costume, so I figured this would work." He rubbed a hand down the front of the jacket and worried with one of the brass buttons.
"You look very handsome." You winked at him.
"Thank you. Would you maybe like to get some air? It's a bit crowded in here."
You hesitated with your answer. He seemed like a nice enough guy, but that didn't mean anything these days. You looked around the room for Nat and Wanda, but you couldn't see them anywhere. The bar was full and it'd be nice to escape the crowd for a bit. If you stayed close to the bar, it'd be safe. Right?
"Why not."
"Great! Give me a minute, I'm going to let Lemar know I'm stepping out so he doesn't think I bailed on him." He rushed off the stool and into the crowd to find his friend.
You chugged down the rest of your beer and set the bottle on the counter. Instead of looking for Nat or Wanda again, you sent them a quick text to let them know you were leaving. John seemed like an okay guy, but he wasn't coming home with you. You'd humor him and step outside for a bit more conversation, but that would be the end of your night.
The bar was a lot more crowded than when you first came in. People were standing around you, trying to catch the attention of the bartender. A few of them collided against you as they ordered. You stood from the stool and walked towards the door to wait for John. A chill rushed up your body as you moved through the crowd and you would swear that you felt fingers trailing along your spine, but when you turned there was no one there.
"That's enough alcohol for the night." You murmured to yourself and placed your palm against your forehead.
"You okay?" John appeared at your side and placed his hand on your shoulder.
"I'm okay. Let's go." You turned and opened the door.
The cool air caressed your face and sept into the fabric of your clothes and you were thankful Wanda went with the long sleeved shirt instead of the one with cap sleeves. Your arms wrapped around your body as you walked a few steps down the sidewalk and away from the bar. Something draped over your shoulders as you walked and you noticed John had removed his jacket and placed it around you.
"Thanks." You came to a stop and leaned back against the brick of a corner market.
This part of the sidewalk had less traffic and you finally felt like you were able to breathe. John leaned on the wall beside you and slowly placed his arm around your shoulders.
"Are you trying to get fresh with me?"
"Would you stop me if I said yes?" He said, suddenly more confident than he was a moment ago.
"Probably."
"Probably isn't a yes." He grinned and pushed off the wall to stand in front of you.
"W-What?" Your eyes widened as he looked down at your lips and he started to lean in. "Don't."
"Come on, baby. You were flirting with me like crazy in the bar. Where's that vixen at?"
He leaned closer and you turned your head away.
"Where's the supposed awkward gentleman I was just talking to?"
"That was just my way in. Women find that shit adorable. Now why don't you admit that you came out here with me because you want to get fucked."
His fingers gripped your chin roughly and turned your face to his. Lips pressed harshly against yours and his tongue forced its way into your mouth. Pushing at his chest didn't work. He was too strong and you had too much alcohol surging through your system. You bit down on his tongue until blood rushed into your mouth and a scream erupted from him. John backed away quickly and brought his hand to his mouth, wiping away blood. You leaned off the wall and spit until the metallic taste was gone, then wiped your own mouth.
"You fucking cunt!" John roared.
"That's what you get for trying to force yourself on someone, you fucking prick!" You screamed back and threw his jacket at him. "Get the fuck away from me."
"Gladly, you psycho." John stalked off back to the bar, leaving you on the darkened sidewalk alone.
Wrapping your arms around your body, you started walking back to your apartment where frozen pizza, ice cream, and Netflix called your name.
~
It was two-thirty in the morning and the bar was about to close. The only thing keeping John company on the walk to his car was his bruised ego. After his initial failure, he tried his luck with a few more women, but none of them took the bait. When last call was announced, he said goodbye to Lemar and decided to head for his car before the street was flooded with people making their way home. The soft thud of footsteps echoed behind him, making him spin on his heel. The part of the sidewalk that was illuminated by streetlights was empty. He squinted into the shadows, but it was impossible to see anything.
He turned back around and walked cautiously down the street, ears perked and listening for the faintest noise. Men were being killed all over the city and he didn't intend on being the next one found face down in a gutter. His stepped quickened as he rounded the corner to the parking lot his car was in. The sound of footsteps beat against the pavement behind him, but this time they were closer and moving faster.
John took off in a sprint and was nearly to his car when a body slammed into him, knocking him down. He jolted into a sitting position as soon as his body hit the ground, but he didn't have time to stand. A thick piece of rope was wrapped around his neck and tightened to the point where his air supply was cut off. He kicked his feet wildly and grasped the rope in his hands, trying to pull it away enough so he could suck in a breath.
"You're just not having a good night, are ya Johnny boy? First that beauty almost bit your tongue off, then you struck out at the bar, and now–well, now you're gonna fucking die. It really sucks to be you, doesn't it." A deep chuckle rumbled in his ear and the rope tightened further.
John struggled as best he could, but the man behind him was stronger. His breath gurgled out of his throat and he felt consciousness slipping away from him.
"You can fight all you want, but you're not getting out of this alive. Just a few more seconds and it'll all be over." His attacker consoled him.
The choking gurgles from John grew intermittent and his grip slackened on the rope. When his body ceased moving, his assailant held the rope tight around his neck, making sure that the job was done. The man unfurled the rope and looked down at John's body. His eyes were glazed over and lifeless. The whites of his eyes were blood red and a dark red line ran the width of his neck. His cock twitched at the sight.
The mixture of adrenaline and serotonin coursing through his veins had him feeling a high so strong that even the most hard-core drug couldn't achieve. He was turned on by the power he felt at being in control of who lived and who died. He could've easily let the rope slacken around John's throat and walked away like nothing had happened. But that wasn't what he needed tonight. He needed to feel this high and that was something only the cold darkness of death could bring him.
"Guess we should get you out of this parking lot." The man looked around the empty lot and his eyes landed on a dark alcove carved into a building to the left of him. "Can't let you be found that easily."
The alcove was pretty deep and, to any passersby, it would look like a homeless man was seeking shelter from the cold of winter. He dragged John's body across the pavement and unceremoniously pushed him into the inlet. He gathered scraps of newspaper, broken down cardboard, and was even lucky enough to find a ripped up, discarded coat down a side alley.
He turned John's body on its side to face the back of the alcove and bent his knees up until he was laying in the fetal position. The cardboard was shoved underneath his body and the newspaper was messily laid over him, followed by the coat. The last thing the man did was pull a wool beanie and blanket from the backpack he had. He placed the beanie on John's head then covered his body with the worn scrap of fabric. He smiled at his work, pleased that anyone walking by would see a man seeking shelter from the cold and not a dead man.
"It's been fun, John, but I've got something to take care of. See ya later, buddy."
The man left the parking lot, walking down the sidewalk and back by the bar. He slipped his mask into place as he approached a crowd of people leaving to head home. He loved Halloween. Patrons leaving the bars in the early morning hours created a sea of masks and ridiculous costumes that would let him blend in. It was the one time of year that he could confidently walk away from the scenes of his murders with his head held high, instead of having to skulk in the shadows to avoid being seen.
He found the blood red mask with black horns, black rimming the eyes, and a demonic grin carved into the plastic, oddly fitting to his personality. Demons didn't kill because their mommy hit them as a child or because they were too socially awkward to make real friends or get laid. They did it because they wanted to. They collected souls and they grew stronger with each one they took.
He killed because he liked it, because it made him feel powerful. He had a great childhood with loving parents and a sister that was his best friend. He had no problems making friends or maintaining healthy relationships. There was no underlying trauma or horrible reason to explain why he did what he did. The simple explanation was that he enjoyed it and he was a firm believer in not denying yourself the things you enjoyed.
There was only one other thing he needed and he wasn't about to let the night end until he had gotten everything he wanted. His feet carried him down street after street until he stood in the shadows behind an apartment complex. The fire escape was still hanging down from where he had dislodged it earlier. He made his way up the metal steps quietly, stopping at the very top floor and peering in through a window. It was locked, but luckily the building was old and the lock wasn't very secure. It was easy for him to jimmy open the window and climb in, softly shutting the window behind him.
He pulled the mask from his face and let it drop to the floor as he gazed at the woman lying in the bed. The covers were half off of her body and her hair splayed over the pillows. She was in a black lace camisole and matching thong. His cock pulsed wildly in his jeans at the sight. The high of the kill and now the view of the woman splayed out in front of him had his blood racing in his veins. Tonight was shaping up to be one hell of a night.
~
An empty ice cream carton with the spoon still inside was sitting on your kitchen counter, a pizza box laid on top of your stove, and the remote to your TV was shoved between the couch cushions hiding just enough to drive you crazy the next time you tried to find it. None of these things mattered though, because you were snuggled up in your bed sleeping peacefully. After your encounter with John, you were a bit scared, but mostly pissed off. Things could have ended differently if he decided that he didn't want to stop, and that freaked you out a little.
When your nerves calmed down, you accepted that you were safe. You had made it home without incident and, if you were to go out again and find yourself the object of some random guy's affection, you'd be more careful. You wouldn't step outside with him, you'd paid better attention to his body language and his choice of words. Tonight you were off your game and you attributed that to the unease rippling through your body all day.
Falling into bed at one in the morning and covering up in your warm comforter was the first time you had been at ease all day. Your body relaxed and you drifted off in record time. But that peace didn't last. Two and a half hours later, your eyes cracked open as you slowly began to wake up. Something felt off. Something felt...sinister.
You pushed up on your elbow, but cold metal pressed against your throat as soon as your body raised and you heard a quiet tut come from behind you on the mattress.
"Are you trying to leave me, kitten?" A low rumble vibrated through your room and you froze.
Your breathing became shallow and your heart raced as the knife pressed further into your neck, bringing you back against a hard body.
"Y-You can take whatever you want, just please don't hurt me." You whimpered.
"I'm not here to hurt you, kitten."
"Then just take what you want and leave. My purse is in the living room. I'll give you the PIN to my debit card. Whatever you want, you can have."
"I want you, Y/n." The man whispered against your ear.
His teeth bit down on your earlobe and then licked it to soothe the sting.
"How do you know my name?" You swallowed hard as he pressed the knife into your skin, causing a trickle of blood to drip down your neck.
The sting of the cut made you wince and you pressed back against him further.
"I've been watching you, kitten."
So it wasn't just your imagination. Someone had been watching you.
"W-Why?" His arm snaked underneath you and he gripped your breast tightly in his hand before moving to the other and doing the same.
"You caught my eye and I needed to have you. I tried to fight it, but I always found myself back on your street, waiting to get a glimpse of you." His lips pressed against the exposed skin of your neck. "A glimpse isn't enough anymore. I need to taste you."
"I–Please just let me go. I won't tell anyone. I promise." You pleaded.
"I can't do that, kitten. Ya see, I have really poor impulse control. Now that I'm here, with you pressed against me, I just can't seem to make myself leave." He kissed over your shoulder and then bit down hard, making you cry out in pain. "I'm going to tie you up, Y/n. I need you to be a good girl and stay still or else I'll have to hurt you. Understand?"
"Please don't!" You sobbed.
He grabbed your chin roughly and turned your face up to look at him. The light from the full moon streamed in through your open window and you took in his face. He was a handsome man with striking blue eyes and long dark hair. A five o'clock shadow graced his sharp jawline and his soft lips were pulled into a lopsided grin. If you saw him on the street, you would probably check him out, give him a sexy little smile and flirt with him. But the only thing you could focus on right now was the twisted look in his eye that said he didn't care how much you begged and pleaded, he was taking what he wanted.
"You're sexy when you beg. I can't wait to see you beg for my cock."
"That's not going to happen." You struggled against him and the knife cut a little deeper.
The man reached down and caught the dripping blood with his fingers, smearing it across your chest.
"Keep moving and I'll spill your blood all over this bed, kitten. Sure would be a shame if you died before we could have some fun. Now are you going to listen while I tie you up?"
You nodded hesitantly. He could overpower you easily. Just from having his body against yours, you could tell he was in shape. His body was muscled and lean. You couldn't outrun him or overpower him. If you let him do what he wanted, he'd leave and you'd at least be able to live through the night. Lips pressed against your temple and the knife moved away from your throat.
"Lay on your stomach and put your hands behind your back." The gruff voice commanded.
You followed his directions and flipped over, quietly crying into your pillow as he bound your wrists behind your back. He smiled to himself, knowing it was the same rope he had used to take John's life not even an hour ago. He imagined John's body hadn't even cooled yet and that made his smile widen into a grin. And now he was doing what John could have only dreamed of doing. He was going to slip inside you and fuck you until you screamed.
"You should really be more careful when you go out, kitten." He spoke as he finished tying off the rope.
"W-what?"
"That man, who had his hands all over your beautiful body earlier, he could've hurt you."
You whimpered as he reached under you and grabbed your breast tightly.
"Oh, don't worry, kitten. I took care of him for you."
"You hurt him?"
"No, Y/n." He whispered. "I killed him."
"H-How?" Your ass wiggled against him as you tried to get out from under him.
"Strangled him...with the same rope wrapped around your wrists. It was so satisfying to feel the strength drain from his body as he died. To hear him struggle for a single breath. It made me so fucking hard, kitten."
He groaned as you struggled harder underneath him. Each pass of your ass across his crotch made his already hard cock grow impossibly harder.
"He's not my first of course, but he sure as hell is my favorite."
"You're the one killing all those men?" You asked as you stilled beneath him.
"The one and only, kitten." There was amusement in his voice as he spoke. "Lie there, nice and still for me. I'm going to get these clothes off of you."
The knife that had been pressed to your neck ran across the back of your shoulders as he sliced through first one strap and then the other of your camisole. He then ran it under the hem of your shirt and pulled the knife up to cut the back of it open. When your back was exposed to him, he moved down to the thong. The sharp tip scraped across the curve of your ass and then up under the lace. He made precise cuts until the material fell away from your body.
"Lift up." He ordered.
You did and he grabbed the shredded material and tossed it to the side. He spread your legs apart, displaying your most intimate area to him.
"Leave your legs open."
The mattress shifted and you dared a peek behind you. He was pulling his hoodie and shirt over his head, exposing an expertly carved upper body. His eyes connected with yours and he smirked.
"Look all you want, kitten. I know I am." His eyes roamed over your body until they came to rest on your pussy. "As much as you say you don't want this, your body is telling me something different. You're wet. You're so wet you're dripping, kitten."
Your lips parted to speak, but he stopped you.
"Don't deny it." He popped the button on his pants and pushed them down along with his underwear. "You want this."
"I don't. Please–."
"Bucky. Call me Bucky, kitten."
Your mouth fell open, and that's when it hit you. He wasn't bothering to cover his face. He had just told you his name. You weren't getting out of this alive.
Bucky knelt behind you as he stroked his cock. His thick length was leaking from the tip and he moaned when he swiped his thumb over the tip to collect the bead. He shoved his thumb into your mouth and ordered you to suck. You did at first, but then you bit down making him grunt in pain.
"That wasn't very nice, kitten." He growled in your ear.
Without warning, he shoved his cock inside you, bottoming out. You screamed at the intrusion. Tears welled in your eyes as he pounded into you relentlessly, not giving you a moment to breathe. His left hand pushed your face into the pillow as he held himself up with his right. He was fucking you like a man possessed, like the only thing he craved was your pussy.
"You feel amazing, kitten. I knew you would. From the moment I saw you, I knew that I needed to be inside you."
"Please! Stop!"
"You know I'm not going to do that, Y/n. Stop denying how much you like this. I can feel your pussy tightening around me. I can feel you trying to push back on me. You want me to fuck you. It's turning you on that I took control, that I'm using like my own personal whore. You're getting wetter by the second and you're close to exploding."
"N-no, I'm not." You panted, your body betraying you as your pussy clenched around him.
"Liar." He whispered into your ear.
His hips thrust harder, driving him closer to his release. No matter how hard you fought against your own body, the steady rhythm of his cock driving in and out of you made your core tighten and you knew you were about to come. Tears ran down your face and you clenched your hands into fists.
"Fuck!" You screamed when the dam inside your body finally burst.
You came around him, squeezing his cock until you heard him call out your name and his warm cum filled your pussy. He continued to fuck you through both of your orgasms and then he stilled. Your breathing was ragged and your hands were numb from being bound. Bucky picked up his discarded knife from the bed and ran it down your arm. You flinched, but were surprised when the ropes were cut away and your hands were freed. Bucky fell on the bed next to you, licking his lips and smiling over at you.
"What? No round two?" You asked, rubbing at your wrists.
"I'm tired, kitten. John struggled more than I thought he would, plus I haven't slept in over twenty-four hours. Give me a few hours and I'll fuck you properly." Bucky stifled a yawn and you rubbed your hand down his chest.
"Poor baby. So, he really struggled?" Bucky noticed the twinkle in your eye and he knew you wanted more details.
Bucky's targets weren't exactly by happenstance. He met you on an online forum about serial killers. The comments you made piqued his interest and he decided to message you. It wasn't long before you both realized what the other was. A sociopath with a need to kill so unsatisfied that you both decided to help each other out. You didn't think you would be able to actually pull the trigger, so Bucky agreed to do it in your proxy. In return, you would give him the sexual release he needed afterwards.
Even though he knew that you didn't want to commit the murder, Bucky wanted you to pick his victims. Rather it be a situation like what happened tonight or if it was a random man you met in a grocery store who caught your eye. Once you found his victim, the game began. Bucky would murder the man and then role-play a consentual, non-consent scene with you. He'd slip in little details here and there during the scene, but once it was over he'd tell you everything. You were just as sick and twisted as he was–and he loved it.
"He was kicking and grabbing at the rope. There was this satisfying gurgling, choking sound. He held on longer than I thought he would. The void look in his eyes after he died was just, so fucking amazing. I couldn't wait to get here and be inside of you. I stashed his body in this little alcove across the parking lot. Made it look like the others. I wonder how long it'll take this time for someone to realize that he's dead."
"I want to watch the next one." You whispered into the moonlit room.
"You sure, kitten? I mean, I'd love for you to watch me work, but I don't want you to be frightened." Bucky pulled you down into his arms and you laid your head on his sweat covered chest.
"I'm sure. Hearing about it is great, but being there, just imagine how wet I'll be then." Sensuality dripped from your words.
"Okay, kitten. If that's what you want then that's what you'll get." He pressed a kiss to your head and closed his eyes.
"Will you show me his body tomorrow?"
"Don't I always?" Bucky grinned. "We'll grab lunch and then we'll take a stroll past where I left him."
This was another part of your ritual. You may not be present for the murders, but you enjoyed seeing the way Bucky disposed of the bodies.
"I can't wait." You placed a kiss on his chest.
"Get some sleep, kitten. The hunt starts again tomorrow." Bucky murmured.
You both fell asleep locked in each other's arms, preparing yourselves to start your game all over again.
A/N: I might have a problem, because I'm definitely into serial killer Bucky. 🥵