Puppy patches

Content warning under the cut:

death, violence and abuse (psychological and physical), torture, suicide, rape, murder

Nikto x Reader mind shortly after returning from captivity.

He thought that if he returned, everything would be a little easier. There would be a room with a dim lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, an old kettle, the rattle of the radiators, the smell of tobacco, curtains soaked up the winter gloom, and a person worth holding on to until this evening. It seemed like that would be enough to make him feel alive again.

It wasn't.He didn't return whole.

Something remained there—in the dampness, in the blood, in someone else's fingers, in the pain after which the body no longer responds as his own. Now it lives on as a separate, vile memory: it shudders at footsteps behind it, stiffens at an accidental touch, chokes on air if someone's hand lingers too close to its neck. As if it still hasn't realized the torture is over. As if home, too, is temporary.

And love... love has become worse.

It used to be quieter. Like the light in a window on the outskirts, like snow at four in the morning, like silence in the kitchen where nothing needs to be explained. Now there's almost nothing peaceful about her. Now it's not a feeling, but a fever. Fear. An unhealthy, bitter attachment to the only person who still makes this world bearable.

He looks at the reader and thinks not about how he loves, but about how easily one can lose. How quickly only an empty space remains of the living. That's why he listens to someone else's breathing at night, that's why he notices every pause, every hesitation, every shadow of fatigue on their face. Not because he doesn't trust. Because he knows all too well how people are broken; he's experienced it himself.

И хуже всего то, что ему нужно это тепло. Ему нужно оно почти унизительно, почти мучительно. Он хочет уткнуться лбом в чье-нибудь плечо, замереть, поверить, хотя бы на мгновение, что его больше никогда не коснутся. Но как только читатель прикасается к нему, его тело вспоминает все раньше, чем голова. И вместо покоя — дрожь, судорожное дыхание, темнота под веками.

Нежность снова становится чем-то, что нужно терпеть.Возможно, именно так всё и изменилось.

Before, he loved carefully. Now—like a drowning man. Before, there was something alive in it. Now—only fear, insomnia, and an almost superstitious obsession with keeping the reader close. Staying alive. Not disappearing.

Soap with dogs!

Gaz with dogs!

Price with dogs!

bonus:

your cunt gushes obscenely with every deep thrust of simon's hips, both of your arms behind your back with a single large hand of his.

his cock, heavy and pulsing inside of you, thumps against your cervix each time he humps your ass, sloshing around the old loads of his cum that he already dispensed within your pussy.

he has you on your knees, chest against the bed, your nipples stiff and dry from the constant stimulation. its painful, he's had you come several times around him, finding enterainment in the way you so easily can gush around him with a flick of his fingers on your clit.

"shiimon," you slur out, muffled in the sheets damp with your slick and tears and other fluids. simon stops his ruthless pounding on your cunt, opting for a harsh grind balls deep against your cervix, teasing the already battered and bruised tissue.

"tha's tha shit huh, baby?" he says lowly, almost out of breath. "enjoyin' yourself?"

you whine at his teasing, attempting to hide yourself into the ruined pillows before simon is slapping a heavy hand onto the sensitive flesh of your asscheek, already red with his hand print. he can be so mean sometimes.

you're not given a warning before simons laying his entire 250 pound pure hardened muscle of a body onto your much more sensitive and fragile one, screaming helplessly as the last inch of his cock that you always struggle to take slides in forcefully, pressing painfully against your cervix as if he was on a mission to break it and pass through into your womb.

if only.

with his body weight fully on top of you, youre given no choice but to go limp and flat against the mattress, your tummy and breasts digging into the material. simon lets out a throaty moan when your cunt squeezes around him, cock twitching upwards into what feels like must be your guts as you messily cum on his cock, your juices leaking out around him and creating an even bigger mess on his and your thighs.

"thats it girl, good girl," he praises, his hips tight against your ass. he leans down, his chest against your back so he can lay open-mouthed kisses against your earlobe, relishing in the way you shiver and attempt to squirm away from the overwhelming stimulation.

simon begins rocking his hips once more, slowly. feeling your walls open and close with every in and out of his movement. the peace is there for a moment, you're quiet and almost comatose from how good he's fucking you until simon becomes discontempt with your silence and hes angling his hips and pulling out until his tip is hardly inside of you and slamming back inside to the hilt.

its with the new angle that your back is forced to arch, pressure elevated to your lower tummy and as result your bladder.

its then that you begin to really panic. thrashing wildly and sobbing for simon to stop, clawing at his hand that is holding yours.

"s-simon! 'm gunna pee!" you cry, face hot as summer sun from pure embarrassment.

simon only scoffs, smiling lightly at your panicking. but he doesnt move. he instead uses his forearms to hold himself up, using his weight and slamming his hips against your ass with a lewd "plap plap plap".

youre wailing at this point. his ruthless thrusts force your tummy against the mattress, the immense pressure of his tip plunging against your cervix, proves to be too much for you. youve taken everything he's given you, letting him wear you like a fleshlight until youre nearly bursting at the seams, but this is too much.

"simon!" you warn one last time, sobbing and trying to push yourself upwards and away from him. with one final aimed thrust to your cervix, the dam breaks loose, your eyes rolling to the back to your head as you tremble and your muscle contract painfully as you cum once more, except instead the water isnt a small trickle and instead its a long stream of your piss.

simon just moans, long and loud, tipping his head back, continuing his thrusts. he flushes at the lewd sight of you twitching so cutely, pissing yourself from cumming too hard from his efforts.

he bites at his lips, humping weakly against you some more before hes pulling out, wet squelches audible as he pulls his engorged cock from the tight confines of your pussy. if you werent fucked nearly to the last inch of your life, you would feel the mattress dip underneath simons heavy weight as he shuffed towards your face, jerking his cock noisily over your face, his eyes glued to the puffiness of your eyes and cheeks, the wetness from your tears and the clear defeat in your bones, tipping him over the edge and at long last cursing your name as his cock spurts several hot ropes of his potent cum over your adorable face.

Yes.. Normal

I guess... it's time to post this here too... oh god, I need to redraw this...

There were a lot of funny comments on Pinterest, but HONESTLY, HE DOESN'T DO ANYTHING LIKE THAT.