#this is so sick and twisted and disgusting

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Look, Don't Touch 4

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, stalking, breaking and entering, possible blood and violence, and femcel energy. Tags are not exhaustive and more may be added as the series progresses.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get bored of watching and that makes you careless. (dark!reader)

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Note: mondayyyyyy

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like snakes love Woody’s boots. Take care. 💖

The warmth spreads through your jeans, the pungent smell permeating the air. You don't even care. You pissed yourself and that's the least of your problems. 

You're barely cognizant of the moisture spreading across your ass. You're so fucking hungry and thirsty that you're vision is starting to haze. He really is a sick fuck. Starving you out. Well, fuck him. He doesn't win because you're not losing anything.  

"You fucking stink," he snarls as he enters. You can't see him as the chair remains on it's back. 

You chuckle. He huffs and stomps around.  

"Ugh, disgusting," he sneers. 

You laugh louder. 

"Fucking rat," he comes to stand over you, arms crossed. "You just can't wait for anything. I was just making you something to eat." 

You spit at him and it hits his jeans, just above his knee. He exhales and takes out his phone. The tension in your wrists and ankles slackens. He grabs you by the back of the neck and hauls you off the chair. 

He flips you so you land on your stomach. The plastic crinkles and he shoves your face against a small yellow puddle. He wipes your nose in your own waste. It's not as funny. 

He wrenches you up. Your arms and lengths are still weighed down by the cuffs, even as they are apart. He grips you by the back of your neck as your legs wobble with disuse. 

"You'll need to clean up before you eat," he tuts. 

He marches you across the room. Your muscles are like noodles, your knees buckling as you stagger. He squeezes until you grunt. 

"You should be thanking me. Vermin don't typically get these luxuries." 

You scoff and elbow him. He huffs and shoves you through the bathroom door. You flail and hit the edge of the tub, folding over it. 

He stomps in after you and hooks his arm under you. He tugs down the zipper of your hoodie and strips it off your arms. You fall to the floor, limp to his onslaught. You have to save your strength for the right time. Not that you have much. 

He steps over you and tears the collar of your tee. He makes quick work of it too. He tears your jeans down and the button pings off. He takes your boots with the heap of denim and tosses it. Your boy shorts stick to your pelvis and your sports bra twists awkwardly. 

He rips through the fabric of both without effort. You growl and he lifts you, dropping you onto the tub without care. Your elbows and ass hit. The pain radiates through you.  

He has a fistful of your hair clumped in his hand in seconds. He flips the faucet to cold and grabs the showerhead. He brings the hose down and sprays you in the face. You gasp and gulp, kicking as he aims it up your nose. 

You gag and he turns the spray onto your chest and stomach. Your skin tautens and pricks with goosebumps.  He scours you from toe to head again.  

You spasm as he pins you by your neck and floods your nose is mouth. Motherfucker is water boarding you. You hack and spit but don't beg. Fuck that. Drown me, bitch. 

He flips you over as you shiver and choke. He sprays down your back and the water suddenly turns scalding. You growl and gnash down on your tongue as your skin steams. You slap the porcelain and bite down on your stubbornness. You will not give him the fucking satisfaction.  

The temperature softens and he angles the head between your legs. You twitch as the stream tickles you. Nope. Uh uh. 

You reach back only for your hand to being drawn back by the sudden weight in the cuff. He tisks and wiggles the shower head. You hiss and press your forehead to the tub. What the fuck? 

You rocks the hose as you fight the sensation creeping into your core. This isn't going to happen. You're not going to give in.  

With all your strength, you turn yourself over and bring your knee up. You hit his shoulder and the shower head slips to pour over your pelvis. You wriggle as your ankles and wrists stay pinned like anchors. 

"Fucking perv!" You snarl. 

"You pissed all over yourself, I'm helping!" He jerks the spray back against your cunt and you exclaim. Jesus! 

"Gotta be thorough," he splays a hand on your chest as he once more works the showerhead against you. Your toes curl as the swell pulses inside you. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

He hums smugly and slips his hand over one side of your chest. He kneads your tit and clucks. "Well, you're not entirely useless. Didn't think there was much under those rags." 

"You are fucking--" 

He turns the hose and sprays you in the face again. You spit and sneer. He's so goddamn annoying. 

Then, the thrumming flow is trapped along your cunt. You groan and growl, fighting back the rise as it creeps up and up and up. Your breath shallows as you approach the crest and resign yourself to the defeat. 

Clang! He twists the faucet off and drops the hose. It dangles as you lay panting, just short of your climax. Throbbing. 

He laughs as he stands and grips his hips victoriously, "ask nice and I'll finish the job." 

You heave and shudder. You suck in a deep breath and bat your wet lashes. You put on the most pathetic voice you can muster, "please, Bucky, please won't you... fucking kill me!" You thrash and shake on the porcelain. "I'd rather drink acid than cum for you, idiot!" 

He snorts, "oh I know what makes you cum and it's never going to happen." He wrenches you out of the tub, water dripping off of you. "The only reason you're still here is because I want you to see the sheer revulsion in Steve's eyes before I break your fucking neck." 

"You're a bitch," you teeter on your toes and lean in to snarl at him. "You can't fucking do it because you're still ass-fucked over all those victims you stacked up for Hydra--" 

He swings you into the wall and you wheeze as you crumple to the floor.  

"Bitch," you rasp. "Bitch boy. Fucking Hydra dog." 

"You don't know what the fuck you're messing with," he barks. 

"I saw your dick, fucker. I had it between my teeth like a cocktail weenie," you snicker. "I know what the hell you are and aren't--" 

He kicks you so your back is against the wall and plants his foot against your chest. He leans on you until your ribs burn. You stare up at him. Do it. 

He lets his foot off and sighs. 

"Steve deserves to spit in your face before you go out," he grabs you by the wrist and drags you across the tile. Your ass scrapes and your heels bounce off the floor. 

He hauls you back to the living room. He puts the chair right and perches you in the seat. Your wrists snap down on the armrests and your ankles to the legs. You're bound again. 

"Means I gotta keep you around for another day or two so... better give the mouse its cheese." 

He taps your cheek before he stalks of. You shiver as your skin cools. You fidget and try to get comfortable. Every part of you hurts. 

You listen to him fussing in the kitchen. He appears with a large bowl in hand. You can't see the content. He puts it on the table near the couch. He's gone again. 

When he comes again, he has a hose and funnel. He drags another chair over, then grabs the bowl. He sits next to you as he balances the bowl in his lap. 

"Open up for daddy," he taunts. 

You sneer as you stare at the hose. You're not fucking stupid. You know what he's up to. 

"Now don't tell me you're scared," he grabs your jaw and squeezes. 

You gasp and open your mouth. He shoves the hose through and jams it into your throat until it snakes past your gag reflex. You breath through your nose as the constant pressure makes your stomach contort. 

"Better fill you up," he takes the funnel attached to the other end and the bowl. He stands as he start to pour. 

You close your eyes as you brace yourself.  You wretch as he force feeds you the sour concoction of eggs, plain yogurt, and something acidic. Your insides contort and your muscles clench. 

Your mouth overflows and the excess dribbles out and smears around your mouth. You puff messily around the hose. He tips the bowl until its empty and the mixture floods your nose as you heave again. 

He wiggles the hose as he puts the bowl on the chair and you gurgle around it. He leaves it there as he smirks at you then slowly tugs it. The friction nearly makes you vomit. 

When the hose it out, he grabs you again. He keeps your mouth open as he shoves two fingers inside. He considers you as he teethes his lip. 

"If you weren't a biter, I might just try it," he sneers. "You gotta a hell of a throat, doll." 

He lets you go and spins away. He takes the bowl and the hose and leaves you breathless. The pasty substance is streaked across your cheeks and down your neck. It'll start to stink pretty quickly.  

📷

You're dazed as suddenly you lurch off the chair. Not for long as Bucky dangles you from one hand and stamps the other against the seat. Disoriented, you have no power to stop him. 

"One of the toys I found in your shit hole," he angles you down, one hand on your throat, the other on your hip. Your eyes snap open and you grimace. "You're quite the collector." 

He slips his hand under you and spreads your cunt as the tip of the toy prods you. You hold your breath as he forces you onto it. The dry scrape of your insides burns. He moves his other hand to your shoulder and jerks you down all at once. You snarl. 

"With how fucking desperate you are, I'm sure that's nothing," he steps back as your stomach tightens. It's your biggest toy by far and you usually do a lot of warm up. 

"I'm the desperate one," you snicker then quiet as your muscles ripple. 

"You're getting tired, doll, I can see it. I mean, you're no super soldier so you don't got a chance," he snorts. "But you can try to get some sleep. I hear white noise helps." 

He turns and picks up a pair of over-ear headphones. He winks as he steps closer and pops them on your head. You flinch as he brings out his phone and taps the screen. The blare of Mary Poppins rattles your brain. You bare your teeth in disgust. You fucking hate Julie Andrews. 

He turns and stretches his arms. You can't hear him or his footsteps. The volume makes your eyeballs hurt. 

He faces you again and laughs and taps his ears then shrugs. You narrow your eyes and bop your head. Fuck it, you can get into musicals if it shuts him up. 

He rolls his eyes and struts away. This might be the limit but you won't fold easily. You shift and your stomach aches with fullness. Typical man, can't even give you a bit of foreplay before jamming it in. 

📷

The hours fade with the sky. Bucky takes his place across the sofa, hands behind his head as he watches one of his lame PBS docs. He might not show it but he is truly an old man. 

Your ears ache from the constant roar of Disney classics. This is Guatanamo level torture. You watch him without moving. Even the slightest twitch makes your walls pulse. You can't move any sort of way to get stimulation.  

Slowly, his eyelids droop. He blacks the screen of his phone and turns his back to you. He nestles into the couch, the muscles of his naked back easing. You smile and wait. 

When you sense his breathing even out, you start. You sing along to the repetitive anthem 'SUPERCALLIFRAGILISTICEXPIADLIDOCIOUS. EVEN THOUGH THE SOUND OF IT IS SOMETHING QUITE ATROCIOUSSSSS!" 

Bucky jolts up as you continue your siren. You're not much of a singer but you're belting like Aretha. He barrels off the couch and grabs you by the throat. 

You chuckle as the force knocks the headphones down to your neck. You smirk up at him. Your eardrums vibrate as the world buzzes around you.  

"The fuck?!" 

You twist your head down and aim your teeth for his arm. He shakes you and you laugh again. It's funny when he's mad, especially when he tries so hard and you give him nothing. 

"You are a crazy bitch." 

"Look who's talking," you throw back. "There's an easy way out of this, guy. You can do it. One last time. Just a twist of the neck--" 

"Fuck off." 

"You first." You stick your tongue out. 

He brings his hand up and cracks his knuckles across your cheeks. Blood rises in your mouth as the vibranium plates leave cuts on your cheek. The headphones fall to the floor. He lets you go and curls his fingers as he paces. 

The moonlight limns him as he fumes. You spit out the back tooth he finally knocked free. It skitters over the floor. He grumbles and faces you again. 

"Fine, if we're done giving a fuck..." he stomps back you and grabs you off the chair.  The dildo slips free and you wince. He pulls you close and seethes. "Then let's do this, huh?" He spins you and pushes you against the chair. Your knees hit the edge and he bends you so your neck it against the back. "I'll give ya the real thing before I turn the lights off, how about that?" 

He jostles behind you and his briefs fall to his feet. He leans until you feel your esophagus pinching against the wood. He flicks your ass cruelly and smacks it. 

He guides his tip up your thigh and grazes your cunt. You close your eyes and whittle air through your throat. He'll be quick. He's been holding back too long. As long as the end is fast too. 

He presses against your entrance and a sudden flash illuminates the room. The door clicks and he grips your neck tighter. You angle your head as much as you can. You can see only the brown boots with the tidy laces. 

"Bucky?" Steve utters and his timbre flows through you like ecstasy. You purr. 

"Uh, hey, Steve," Bucky lets you go and you slump. You steady yourself as you stay on your knees, the dildo poking your pelvis. "You're home early." 

"Didn't need me for the last day," he sounds stunned as stands his rolling suitcase next to the mat. 

Bucky pulls up his underwear and coughs, "Steve, I need to talk to you." 

"Yeah, I think there's a lot of talking to do," he mutters. 

You lift your head slowly and look at him dreamily. You smile, shamelessly showing off your bloody teeth. He blinks at you and chagrin twists his perfect features.  

Bucky huffs and grabs you. He rips the toy off the seat and flings it. He sits you down and the chair rocks. Your arms stick to the wooden rests once more. 

"Right," he marches toward Steve, "lets talk." 

[strwbrrysauce]

dear whoever wrote the current fic i’m reading

why did you shoot the dog ):

it is 1:45am and i am crying about words on a screen.

but seriously, what did bear ever do to you huh??

just cause he loves buck more than tommy, his actual owner???

i hope you are ashamed of yourself because i haven’t even started reading it yet, i only saw the tag.

but in all seriousness, stunning writing, i absolutely adore this lil series and i am eagerly awaiting more <3

[strwbrrysauce]

fucking hell i wasn’t supposed to cry on the way back from work 🥲

[thefloatingstone]

The older I get and the more terrible takes I see the more in favour I become of gatekeeping

[slipperywhenwet0o0]

The next person to make a jjk edit to mitski is getting shot o

IMMEDIATELY

[danthropologie]

listening to note to self (jim-e stack, empress of) and it's so daniel mclaren -> red bull 😵‍💫

your infidelity with the bestie playlist has a CHOKEHOLD on me and i'm wondering if you have a red bull redux playlist i can devour?

when you sent this, i realized that while i had a playlist about going home after the worst year of your life and one about the enduring love that eventually brought him home, the only thing resembling a red bull redux playlist had been forgotten with just had a handful of songs on it. but i've been cooking for two weeks and here she is, the (un)official red bull redux playlist:

[ohello0]

I consider most concerts to be superspreaders but I’ve never seen the level of disregard taylor swift has for herself and her fans

Thousands of fans in different locations going online saying how sick they feel after the concert and now multiple videos of miss swiffer wet jet herself pulling mucus from her nose while performing and continuing anyway

[youredreamingofroo]

original image from @/simmers-against-curseforge

it's frankly disgusting hey? Do you hear yourself? See the words on your screen? Do you see yourself typing every word and think this is admirable? okay to do or say?? What is there to discuss. What more is there to discuss? What's been said has been said so many times already, hundreds of thousands of times already and you think there's room to discuss this genocide? Does it not disgust you that every letter you type is typed possibly in unison with a Palestinian who just wants freedom, happiness, and their family back? When you look at your screen, at your bank account hoping for some scrap of change from Curseforge, there is a Palestinian looking at their fundraiser, hoping for a scrap of change from a kind soul. When you reel back in disgust at a dead animal, a Palestinian keels forward in sadness over their dead child, over their dead lover, over their dead family member. When you carry your groceries home, a Palestinian carries the remains of their dead child, of their dead lover, of their dead family member, in a grocery bag.

DO YOU UNDERSTAND? You say you understand but I DONT THINK YOU DO, how can you live with yourself knowing your doing this. I don't think you understand at all honestly. I know you understand your beliefs and where you stand, and that is with the oppressors. Are you happy with yourself? proud? pleased? How does it feel to be privileged? How does it feel to be able to get up from a put-together bed, drink water, fresh clean water, and eat food, freshly bought food, and wear and change into clothes, fresh clean clothes, and live in a home/apartment? Doesn't it make you at least a little sick to know that your funding the death of so many innocent people, men, women, boys, girls, Palestinians who are non-binary, trans, or are queer. It probably doesn't and I wish it did made you feel sick. You are rotten.

[sporkberries]

graded comics fucking suck btw but at least comics are like... flimsey? so the case makes a bit more sense but video game cases and now paperbacks are you fucking kidding me

[upperranktwo]

It's so surrel that Douma is like properly animated and has a voice and everything. I've loved him for so many years and it's just insane how long I waited for all these little moments 🥺

[strwbrrysauce]

if i see one more spoiler from yesterday’s episode, i will implode.

🤏this close to uninstalling twitter

[youvegotmailpdf]

most insane thing i stumbled upon this week was waltz with bashir. at first i thought i misunderstood the movie but no it really is an idf soldiers woe is me narrative where he says look! were soldiers and we also have ptsd and we feel immense guilt after inflicting ghastly horrors upon completely innocent people but literally idgaf. it may just be me but i do not think that a massacre thats part of a larger campaign of ethical cleansing should be a backdrop for a soldier’s sob story. like are u kidding me. are u fucking serious. like go art or whatever but the movie is a disgusting exploitation of palestinian trauma. and yes the lebanese militia did have a role in this but im not seeing them make movies where theyre like oh no :( i was a literal war criminal enforcing genocide and now i feel bad for it :( its just sick sick sick how the whole premise and plot of this is just a lack of self awareness and a grotesque trivialization of human suffering in the face of actual imperialism. like do u get it. it wouldve been completely different if he actually acknowledged that the idf has done some truly terrible things and their methods are inhumane and the whole conflict is just a slow paced genocide but its all about him and his guilt. and then he went on to get critical acclaim for it bc the soundtrack and the animation style made him an intellectual at cannes or whatever disgusting

[francisforever2014]

i know . i know i say this all the time but one of the worst things in the world is when you request more hours at work and they respond by scheduling you for more hours

[paranasloc]

“The brain finishes developing and maturing in the mid-to-late 20s. The part of the brain behind the forehead, called the prefrontal cortex, is one of the last parts to mature. This area is responsible for skills like planning, prioritizing, and making good decisions.”

https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/publications/the-teen-brain-7-things-to-know#:~:text=The%20brain%20finishes%20developing%20and,prioritizing%2C%20and%20making%20good%20decisions.

[slimyenemy]

look good for you the cult can go fuck itself anyway

[gender-euphowrya]

shoutout to people with unusual phobias we deserve better than to be ridiculed just because our phobia isn't about some Standard thing like spiders or the dark