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mawlbone · 27 days ago

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MARKED MINES - NIKTO

SNIPPET: The lingering sensation of pain is more than enough proof that you’re human enough to still feel the sharp sting of pain when you feel there’s no one there to hold you in all your numbness.

[CW: gender neutral reader, dom reader, mean reader, kidnapper reader, manipulative reader, insecure nikto, soft sex, dehumanization, stockholm syndrome, dubcon, unhealthy codependent relationship, mention of sh scars and brief vivid description of previous sexual assault and torture (not from nikto and reader), vomit, water boarding, knifeplay, masochist nikto, mild bloodplay, self depreciating thoughts, scarring, degradation, marking, touch-starved nikto, forced proximity, dry-humping, and lots of cuddling and a Kreuger appearance.]

[COMMENT: If you are sensitive to the topics listed above, I recommend you to read my other fics because yes, the warnings are heavy in this one. What is a happy ending is subjective to the reader’s opinion.]

Time touches all that is living. It’s the simplest fact that all men know.

It’s ever so present with the way the young burst into towering adults, the way they mature with fine lines growing onto one’s face, and the greying hair that sparkle onto one’s head once they turn back into little old creatures. But for all what time can touch, it cannot heal all wounds as much as the people like to preach it from their mighty ground that everything will eventually be alright.

Does it truly?

For what the brain cannot remember, the body pays in tenfold.

So it’ll desire a release. A means to end an illness all stuck in your head as a desperate measure to prove it’s all real and still there. Why else would one’s body constantly clutch over in pain trying to piece the fragments of an once clear image? All that stress, all that anger, and all those tears makes a terrible sight for everyone. It’s shameful. It’s not like one can control these emotions, much to the disappointment of the world.

Time comes and goes, and it’ll forever leaves everyone behind in its mess. For time does not heal all wounds. All it does is make you forget in the obscurity of itself.

Maybe that’s why Nikto is so desperate to be around people. People are permanent. People are alive. But why does he always feel so lonely in the company of others, even when he tries to escape it by fleeing to the emptiness of other rooms. Maybe it’s himself that he cannot stand to be around, he thinks as he collapses into the bushes, hissing as he clutched his stomach feeling the bullet inside his flesh. A failed mission, he was left behind. His fault for not paying attention.

It’s fine.

He’ll just make his way back again once he recover, he thinks, just barely dragging his body, following the lights in the woods to a little house hidden amongst the grasping branches of the forests.

Hopefully a good samaritan is nice enough to house him for a little while.

—

You always wanted a pet.

For all your assortment of critters you had over the years, despite all the love and care you can put into ensuring they get the best meals and enrichment. All of them had inevitably die to the hands of the clock and left in heartache.

Your family suggested that you find something else to accompany you instead, tired of you griefing over every animal you ever had. Young and old, big or small, fur or scales.

Animals are not meant for a human lifespan, no matter how long humans tried to domesticate them. So people were naturally your next choice, but a lifelong companion never last long anyways as much as you like to try again and again. Many failed dates, whether through online dating apps or setups from your friends all ultimately failed. None of them were half as loving or loyal as any ol’ hound you had before.

Hell, if anything they were worse.

So when a thump was heard at your door, you can only hold in a squeal seeing a collapsed man at your door. All big and brawny, a perfect pet. How perfect, you thought as you pulled your back to drag the man inside your home and down into your basement.

You don’t receive much visitors nowadays, simply hunting and fishing around the area to occupy yourself. Isolating yourself to the ends of the woods was what you prefer to the bustle of the city life. So nobody should mind if you keep another pet, right?

You got a big enough kennel for him down there, he’ll be all healthy again once you get that bullet sorted out.

—

Like all strays, Maybe you should had expected your new dog to be so reactive once he woke up bounded to your bed, cussing and all as he tugged against the chains holding his ankles back from grasping the bars of his cage. It was fairly spacious, if anything, more than what you’ll usually give, but the whole basement was designed to keep some guy’s exotic pet collection once before, so you suppose this dog of yours still perfectly suits the room’s purpose.

But damn was he a bitch to handle, biting your fingers every time you tried to feed him, barking at you whenever you tried to bond with him and even threating to kill you, calling you disgusting and pervert for keeping him down here. Seething anytime you come down to check on him and saying his men will come find him and torture you for what you done to him.

How mean.

That didn’t stop him from crying though when you held him down to clean him up, too weak to fight back from constantly spitting out your food as he shivered at the cold water wiping away the mess. There’s no bathroom in the basement after all, only a bucket to relieve himself in.

As much as, what your dog, Nikto, which he liked to calls himself, likes to bark at you. You learned he was terribly easy to break, absolutely despising being alone as you watched him from your cameras down below.

The constant whines, the pleading, the lack of time down there made it all too easy within the darkness of the room. You’ll watch him hold himself tight as his arm cling tight around his head or chest to protect himself crying and screaming, demanding you to come down. If you’re lucky enough, you’ll find him whimpering quietly trying to relieve himself to ease his stress.

At first, he’ll turn his back to the camera trying to get off as he whines into the room unable to get his fix. But no longer he cares anymore once you dropped several of your old pillows and blankets to comfort him and watching him snuggle against them, a pillow settled underneath his hips to rut against as he presses into nose to your things.

What a freak, you thought as he watched him sigh and mewl so prettily, even taking a hand back to thrust back into his own fingers. Biting into the blankets to muffle his screams when he finally got his release.

But you’re impatient. You want a companion still.

His reactions were fun for you to bully him with every time you came down to tease him. You made it a routine to drop many of his meals off and leaving for multiple days on end to fuck with his concept of time. Seconds turn into hours, and days turn into months as you lied about what day is it everytime you come down. But eventually it got tiring, you gotbored with the same response over and over again anytime you try to be nice to Nikto.

Perhaps it’s true that you’re not fated for a lifelong companion, maybe this dog is not meant to be yours. So you gave up on him.

Your final test was when you left the cell and basement door ajar, no word directed at Nikto as he whined at you to let him go still. His voice softer, weaker now with the lack of water you give him after splashing his glass onto you. If he doesn’t want to stay here, fine. You won’t keep such an ungrateful thing here anymore if he keeps fighting back at you. You had a work trip to go to anyways back at the city.

He could be freed and gone from your house for all you could care once when you arrived back.

Though the last thing you could had expected was the sight of him sitting on your porch, just like the day you find him, dazed as you pulled into the driveway. Naked with nothing more his briefs and blanket strapped over his shoulders as he stared at you blankly, whining at you once more to ask why you left him as fat tears fall down his face.

You watch his struggle to stand up, wobbling as his hands reach outward trying to grasp you and apologizing for behaving so badly to you.

Oh… He thinks you’re a hallucination, you thought as he cutely stumbles over to you, sniffing in his sobs as he loudly cries your name. Looks like he’s could still be good dog after all, you hummed to yourself as you walked forward to allow him to collapse against you, taking him back to your house once more.

Finally he is properly broken in and all yours.

—

For what little Nikto can remember, between the grasps of many nitrile blue hands clenching his face and the sting of scalpels pushing onto his skin as if he was a human pincushion, he cannot for the life of him remember the faces of the many men that held him in that icy metal chair those long nights once ago.

A blessing or a curse?

He is unsure.

Perhaps he was too preoccupied in that moment taking in the circumstances of his fate as he rattled in those chains hissing from the sharp stings of thin cuts lined across his stomach as he is forced to endure hearing the laughter of the crowd that surrounded his form splashing him with cold water running down his naked form.

In that time, he was a showstopper. Their entertainer for them to please as they push and pull him all around. So it’s no wonder when he had threw up so violently over himself that he knocked himself out once those nitrite blues started crawling down his hips and grasping at his skin to cut further into. He remembers nothing further of that eventful day but the fade of hysterical laughter will always be drilled into his ears.

He doesn’t know who he is without his trauma anymore. It’s almost intimate to him of how he feels reassured with the numerous scars decorating his skin. It’s something that had become whom he is.

Almost a lover.

But, how do you explain that to someone? It’ll seem like to anyone that he doesn’t want to get better but he already lost so much of himself. He had already become so familiar with this sight that its disappearance will toss him further back into the ends of his mind to find himself back. This sight, these scars are what’s left of him, a reminder that’s he’s still undeniably human and one of them, one of you.

Back in the basement, at least you didn’t hit him, taunt him, or stop feeding him.

You’re different. You always allow him to touch you and he’ll feel soft skin, and not latex on his fingers. Instead of drills and mocking laughter, there’s you peering down on him and praising him and giving him easy affections as you pat down and take care of all his wounds.

Maybe that’s what he finds so fascinating about this sight, Nikto thinks as he watches you bandage his arms, gently scolding him after catching him picking his scabs all bloody again in the bathroom that night, deciding to not punish him.

He doesn’t know why he did it.

You two just had a nice romp that afternoon with you spoiling him hours on end. Constantly cuddling and caressing his face, even giving him plenty of attention to his dick, easing him from the mess of his mind. Every sweet croon of your voice as you squeezed him dry had him gasping for air, head too full of that overwhelming pleasure as you bullied him to tears as you pushed him over and over to spill over your hand until he was empty, leaving him fuzzy enough to sleep as you cleaned and kiss his cries quiet. A reward for behaving so well, you said.

So why did he had to go and fuck it all up and ruin all your trust, he was doing so well!

Was it to remind himself that good things don’t last long when he snuck out the bed that hour, that this much happiness doesn’t belong to him, that he needed a relief to remind him of whom he was? What he came from?

He isn’t sure.

None of the rest do either.

Despite your best efforts to help him from his vices, as nowadays, you help him shave after telling you doesn’t trust himself with something so sharp near his face anymore. Sweetly enough, you said you don’t mind him hairy anyways if he so wishes to keep it that way, it’s cute, as you smoothed your terribly warm hands on his chest and patting it like he’s some big dog.

Humiliating.

But damn if he’s isn’t enjoying your attention as you cradled his face, calling him your good boy and how he’s still cute and all even when his face is obscured by his mask and saying it’s little happy hoodie to calm him down, you said once day, dropping multiple pairs on the bed for him to try on. Even allowing him to gather your clothes to sleep with. Compared to before, the comfort of the mattress in your bedroom does wonders to his body compared to the one from the basement, as he rumbles happily as you scratch his tummy and letting him thump against the cushion all tucked up in your lap as you watched some old television.

He’s undeniably warm and full from dinner hours ago, too sated with all the heat surrounding but that didn’t stop his stomach from dropping once you place a knife on his tummy.

Your neck is already littered with his marks: from the long scratches down your back, the cheeky playful nips at your fingers, and the dark bruises littering your throat. You know he likes claiming you. But you always wondered if he would had liked a more permanent mark on him from you.

“Nikto”, he’ll hear you speak ever so softly as you dragged the blade against his stomach.

Your breath is hot and heavy, against the back of his neck. You can feel him shiver at the coldness of the blade against his skin goosebumps arise from it. Your voice is clear as you dragged the sharpened weapon against, he’s deadly still.

“Would you mind if I place my initials here”, as you pointed the tip of the blade just a hair away from piercing into him

Fuck…

Yeah he would like that.

He will really like that.

Belonging somewhere, belonging to you. It’ll means you won’t abandon him. You’re just proving that. Anyone one who can see it will know he belongs to you. You can only laugh at seeing the tent forming in his pants as you pulled his shirt away, ensuring you wipe your hands and his skin clean with an alcohol wipe clean before placing on a glove to ensure his wound won’t get infected.

You’ll be a bad owner after all if he got too hurt.

As you settled better behind him, back pressed your chest, it will be your own little secret between him and you, whenever he can see your initials as you gently press the knife against his stomach, ensuring you are pressing into the meat of his lower tummy. No need to actually kill your doggie by cutting too deep, you’ll be a careless owner then.

Slow and precise, you made sure to keep a hand on Nikto’s chest so he won’t move as your made your cuts onto his skin. One by one, a letter formed onto his skin as Nikto hitched his breath, feeling the familiar sharp stings pressing onto his skin.

Soon enough, you were finished with your work as you wiped away the blood and begin cleaning yourself up as you cleaned the cuts with some alcohol spray and pressing a bandage over it. All while praising your boy for behaving so well as Nikto pants away as he grips onto your arm for comfort.

You’ll laugh seeing the tent in his jeans as you cooed the man for behaving so well, though you had to swat away Nikto’s hands from pressing down on the wound, however assuring him that since it’s only light cuts that it’ll heal soon and he can admire it later. As he lift his head up, you had little moments to prepare yourself as he flipped himself over to tackle you onto the bed, licking your face as he nuzzled into your neck thanking you for keeping him.

Time will touch all that is yours, but perhaps it will allow you to keep Nikto until your eventual end.

How sweet.

Though you will have to do something about that strange little green netted man who keeps popping up in your woods and disrupting your traps.

Maybe you’ll ought to get Nikto a little friend to occupy himself. He did say something about his men finding you.

The more the merrier, right?

#💀…cod #🐾…pet au #nikto x reader #mwii nikto #nikto cod #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #dom reader #mawlbone’s empty pen

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