хозяин

хозяин

Nobody. You wish it weren’t so apt. But he’s not a person, not anything of Earth.

Content: Dub-Con, Biting, Scratching, Exhibitionism, Possessive Behavior, Toxic Behavior

хозяин

You must have pissed something off in a past life. Or they’re planning on giving you something really good in the next one. Because this… this is too much. He’s too much.

We are exactly right for you, khozyain.

It’s not just the taste of leather and oil on the back of your tongue each morning. Or the crimson smears on your sheets before bed. You could live with the shit sleep, the centuries of foreign memories, and the occasional hankering for raw meat that thins your appetite to nothing.

“You’re KorTac’s best operative?”

It’s a question you’ve heard a dozen times before – and will likely hear a dozen times more. The criticism is valid. You’re not an imposing figure; nothing impressive about you. Look more like a child in a Halloween costume than anything resembling a soldier. The question never bothers you because the unofficial title is as ill-fitting as the gun strapped to your thigh.

It’s not you they need to worry about bothering.

“We are. Problem, soldat?”

“There’s no problem, Nikto,” you answer in Sebastian Krueger’s place.

No, Krueger is too busy wondering where the big, dark figure behind your shoulder just came from. He could have sworn you stepped out of the transport alone. In broad daylight, no less. (That doesn’t mean there aren’t shadows.)

Nikto grunts, nearly tripping you with how closely he walks, toes of his boots nipping at the heels of yours. A stride twice the length of your own but doggedly following, not leading.

“Thought there was only one ‘a ya,” Declan O’Conor muses.

“Paperwork issue,” you lie, smiling.

Nikto grunts, pressing into your back as you stop in front of your temporary captain. You have to brace against his oppressive weight, feel yourself flush a bit when you don’t quite manage.

“Who’re you, then?” Declan asks, eyes on your shadow.

“Nikto,” comes the gruff reply.

Nobody.

You wish it weren’t so apt.

But he’s not a person, not anything of Earth. You don’t know if he ever was; he never gives you a straight answer when you pluck up the courage (or frustration) to ask. Last time, he told you that if he ever wanted to feel human, he’d just be inside you. (You’d flushed, didn’t know if he meant in your mind, where he often takes up unwanted residence, or… elsewhere. Couldn’t make yourself ask him to clarify, afraid of the answer. Jumped whenever he touched you for a week.)

You don’t know the exact bounds of this pact either. He listens to you only sometimes. When it suits him – or when it least suits you. And you’re not immune to his cruelty either, as the bruises and bitemarks and scratches can attest. Nothing like the romanticized crossroads deals you see in tv shows and movies.

Truthfully, you’re not even sure if he’s a punishment for you or if you’re a reward for him. What’s that line you read online once? Dog heaven is squirrel hell. Did he make a deal with you, or did he make a deal with something else, and you’re just collateral?

You never bother to ask. He’ll just click his forked tongue and tell you that it won’t get rid of him either way. The worst part is that he’ll be right. You’re pretty sure the Christian God as you know Him has nothing to do with any of this.

The mission doesn’t matter, not really. You only listen for objectives. Whoever needs killing, whatever information needs gathering, wherever the hostages are. The rest is all useless extra, so much noise to Nikto, not even listening. He’s too busy bullying his way between your thighs, sinking his teeth into the meat through your cargos.

You’re never sure if he’s visible or the other operatives just avoid looking at him in these moments. Regardless, you flush and kick at him when his jaw locks too hard. It’ll bruise livid and ugly, and he’ll fuck the head of his cock into the aching ring of teeth prints left behind.

He’s insistent when the briefing is over, riled up by the promise of bloodshed. Pushy and growling, nearly snapping through his “mask” as he herds you like a rabid shepherd to your temporary quarters.

He fucks you in the doorway though, using one thick arm to bounce you like a personal fleshlight. The other keeps your jaw forced open so he can spit and lick into your mouth, obscene and filthy.

You push and squirm, but he just laughs that awful, maniacal rattle and grinds your clit into his pelvis. Until you start to mean it when you whimper “no” and “stop.” It always makes him cum so hard that you taste ichor in the back of your throat.

It’s too much to hope that you’ll eat in the mess hall uninterrupted. Nikto’s presence attracts the worst, and Krueger is compelled to pick at the weakness you exude. It’s no question that he’s a bigger, stronger, meaner beast than you. But like a dying soldier left to scream in the field, there’s a muzzle hidden out of sight, awaiting whatever is lured in – for mercy or to feast.

Krueger takes the seat across from you, one of his boots landing heavy and threatening on top of yours. You eat quietly, picking at your mashed potatoes and rubbery chicken. Listen to him jab and jeer.

Nikto is there but he’s not. He’s laughing in your ear at all the true but derisive things Krueger is taunting you with. All the sins he boasts of and the reactions he takes as proof of your inadequacy for the assignment you’ve been brought for. It would hurt more of you didn’t know it was true – and if your nerves weren’t rattling.

There’s a line, always a line. Some fault hidden beneath the surface that you don’t see until the ground splits and swallows up the unfortunate soul above.

This time, it’s a comment about how much more useful you’d be as a cockwarmer.

The plastic fork is an inch from his eye by the time you finish blinking.

“Nikto, stop!”

It snaps in his tight fist – but stops. Krueger hasn’t even processed how close he was to losing half his sight before you’re yanking Nikto back by the straps. He’s growling, snarling, half-crazed over a comment he’s made himself. You abandon your mostly full tray and the table altogether, putting all your weight and strength into dragging him from the cafeteria.

“Calm down, that’s enough!” you shout over the animalistic sounds ripping from his throat.

He turns on you instead. Pins you to the wall just outside, in full view of anyone passing on their way to dinner.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he’s chanting. Ripping through your pants (that’s the second pair this week) and thrusting against the seam of your ass. Already leaking precum from an obsidian tip at the small of your back, the corpse-pale base nestled between your cheeks. If he had the coordination through the frenzy, he’d stuff it into you dry and tight. As it is, it’s all he can do to buck against you, fingers digging divots into the cement wall, dust raining down on your face.

Mine, mine, mine, he chants inside your skull in languages known and unknown. You’re leaking through your underwear, too overwhelmed and bewildered to be anything but turned on. Fear is synonymous with attraction, those two wires soldered together and circuited to your pussy.

Copper fills your nose, warmth drips down your lips. Nikto scents it like a hound, yanks your head back to lap at the blood, groaning into your mouth.

Yours, yours, yours as his cock splutters against your spine, too hot. Tingly, almost caustic. You can barely breathe and he’s hauling you over one big shoulder, scooping your slick to prod at the hole he was just grinding against.

Us as you’re pinned with nowhere to go and no voice to praise or protest. In a room darker than a void. Suspended on an endless continuum of pleasure and pain, phantom claws raking your skin and phantom mouths filling whatever holes his cock isn’t occupying.

Sometimes you wonder if the plural “we” and “us” he tends to use is in reference to you and him, or…

The mission is going to be a success, it always is. You separate from the rest of the KorTac squad, shooing Nikto’s hands out from under your shirt. The claw marks still sting; the sooner you can get out of tac gear, the better.

He cracks his neck as the two of you approach the infil point. It sounds like snapping bone. A crescent moon carves into the night sky, sharp enough to cut yourself on.

“Is it time, khozyain?”

Those cajoling whispers caress your ears again. To let him run rampant, to let him fill your bath with blood. He’d be a scourge on the earth if you let him, a one-man apocalypse. The death of the world for a slip of the tongue.

Your hold on his leash is so tight that it’s imprinted past the skin, down into muscle. But on nights like tonight, for things like this… you let out the lead.

“Stay clear of Point B,” you remind into your com.

“Roger,” all others agree.

If they know what’s good for them, they’ll abide by the plan like holy writ. Not even you can promise their lives if they stray.

Shadow looms behind you, grows with each beat of your heart, spills over your shoulders, threads down your arms. You don’t dare glance at the inhuman head hovering right by yours, the maw parting for vicious, pearlescent teeth and pooling saliva. Hungry. Starving.

“Nikto.”

A rolling, ravenous churr vibrates through your skull. The lowest windows of your target begin to crack.

“Hunt.”

More Posts from Crunchyheartbeat and Others

10 months ago

@crunchyheartbeat (what a satisfying name) made a GhostxReader post and I had to nyoom in on a HC I have:

@crunchyheartbeat (what A Satisfying Name) Made A GhostxReader Post And I Had To Nyoom In On A HC I Have:

Imagine in those fics where Ghost has a decent flat and good taste, he has these to drink from

@crunchyheartbeat (what A Satisfying Name) Made A GhostxReader Post And I Had To Nyoom In On A HC I Have:
@crunchyheartbeat (what A Satisfying Name) Made A GhostxReader Post And I Had To Nyoom In On A HC I Have:
9 months ago

Zombie apocalypse -Ghost-

TW: Zombies I guess It is a bit of a longer read compared to some of my other post.

This was hard, really hard in fact to wrap your mind around. Part of you was wondering if maybe you had lost your mind along the journey that you've had to take alone. Being left alone by isolating yourself on your own decision is one thing, but doing it because everyone you loved was taken from you by the dead, the biters, walkers, whatever the hell you want to call them, is something else interlay.

Your alone with a six foot zombie, covered in what seems to be army tactical gear and plenty of weapons on his body, just staring at you. Staring like your the only thing that is occupying the space in its brain.

Holding your knife tightly in one hand, crouched beside a couch hoping that it had missed your precense. You had killed the few zombies that were in the living room but you couldn't believe you somehow missed him. "Honestly it's over for" you thought to yourself. There is no way you can fight a zombie of his size. Maybe if you had better nutrition intake but up to this point all you have really eaten is bags of noodles and cans of beans.

He's not moving... He isn't attacking you... He is just staring...

As you slowly rise to your feet, your legs shaking and your knuckles turning white from holding your knife to tightly, you noticed that his jaw is broken. A bit of confidence makes you take a step backwards, trying to head to the door. If his jaw is broken then it will be harder for him to eat you.

As you slowly continue walking towards the door and looking at him, you see him slowly raise his arms. Eyes widening and a breath sucked in your ready to make the run the last bit of space that is left between you and the door. Counting the steps as you run. one. two. three. four. "waaagh" Stopping in your tracks and turning your head, you thought maybe you heard wrong. Did this thing just try to talk, just try to say wait. "waaagh" Soft and horse, it says it again. Eyebrows raising and fear striking through your body, you focus your attention to his arm, then his hand, then the bag of chips he seems to be holding in them.

"What do I do" You think to yourself. You are obviously imagining it, going crazy from the lack of anything social in your life up to this point. You've been surrounded by zombies for so long you think one is trying to be friendly. You watch as the zombie tosses the chips towards you. as far as it can throw with the few broken fingers it has. Another grunt passes the zombies lips, head jerking towards the chips, and walking towards the couch to sit down upon it. Lifting it's hand and patting the couch next to it to signal you to sit down.

If you would have known months ago when this outbreak started that you would come across a zombie that is capable of still holding on to some part of his past self then you wouldn't believe it, but being here with Ghost while he walks along side you, defending off any harmful things that you guys come across, your thankful for him.

Zombie Apocalypse -Ghost-

So I have an absolute love for zombie ghost to begin with and I'm thinking of maybe adding a few more of these cause any zombie ghost fanfiction is French kiss not gonna lie. But I hope you enjoyed reading and let me know if you would like more of zombie ghost post!


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10 months ago

Soaf

Office worker Soap who almost poops his pants everyday, because you bring him non decaf coffee and he can't bear to tell you that he can't have dairy products.


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10 months ago

His favorite -Ghost-

Simon "Ghost" Riley who bought a glass cup of your favorite color so he can drink bourbon out of. Simon "Ghost" Riley who nicknamed his gun a similar name to yours. Simon "Ghost" Riley who pushes soap over during meal times so he can sit next to you first.

Simon "Ghost" Riley who watches the insane amount of TikTok's you send him so you know that he appreciates them

Simon "Ghost" Riley who is always a few inches behind you in the battle field because he would never let anyone harm you.

His Favorite -Ghost-

I hope you enjoyed, maybe tomorrow I will post something about price. Thank you!!!


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6 months ago

Sheepherder Simon

TW: mentions of guns and cussing It was something strange, something interesting to look at when you went outside of your house, following along the riverside to make your way around the small farm that was slowly loosing life.

A man, a giant man to be exact, seeming to be huddled into the herd of sheep you have, the big momma of the group licking his leg in comfort while patiently waiting to see any reaction from the man.

Dropping your bucket of hay you collected you start running inside back towards your house, your no idiot to a situation like this. A man stumbling upon your farm, pretending to be injured just to strike when you let your guard down. Feeling the air between your feet and reaching your hands out to touch the door, you make your way towards the kitchen to grab the shotgun you have below the kitchen cabinet.

Grabbing two shells and shoving them into the barrel you start to pace your breathing as you walk back outside, eyes set on the man that's still laying in the same spot. Letting out a loud whistle and walking through the few sheep you have you point the barrel of the gun towards the man, kicking his leg to wake him up.

"Who the hell are you?" you said loudly, startling some of the sheep.

The man starts to sture a little bit, opening his eyes and moving his hands in front of his face, blinking multiple times and taking small, hard breaths.

"I'm Simon"

"Simon?" you say lightly, kneeling down a little bit to get a better look at him. "Well Simon, I hope that you can see this gun I have in my hand and the fact that your on my goddamn land." You watch as he looks around, setting his eyes upon the sheep that have wondered around yall.

"This is your land?" He states out loud, letting a painful groan follow after.

"Yes, it is mine and you need to leave. I have helped men that have come along in a similar state like you but I shall not do it again, you need to leave."

Simon starts to allow his eyes to wonder, starting from the lack of shoes on your feet to the worried look on your face, as you try to hold yourself together. "Look I don't mean no harm, I was hurt, my leg has been twisted a bit and it's bleeding. If you give me some tools i can help myself up and leave as you wish."

Taking a step back and contemplating on what you do, you do try to get a better look at his leg, you do start to feel a little bad reckon that you did just kick the crap out of the leg that seems to be a bit twisted. "What happened to your leg" you ask him.

"I was running after one of my sheep, I have my own farm a good bit back from yours, though I don't think I have ever seen you before" He states as he raises his eyebrow a bit. "There was some wolves that came around, and I was trying to get my sheep back into there shed when one ran off and I followed, and well here I am."

You watch as he points at you, feeling your eyebrows come together in confusion. "Look behind you" he says. You turn your head slowly and sure enough there is a a sheep, a sheep you don't really recognize. "Simon I have random sheep come onto my land every so often, it's not something that is new, so I need you to really start telling me the truth."

Simon tries to sit up a bit, wincing in pain and leaning back a on his arms when he lets out a long, loud whistle, one very similar to the one you had let out not to long ago. As you stand there above him, you watch as the sheep starts walking towards him, slowly at first but then start to run at a slow pace. "Tots" he says very low. "Her name is Tots and she is my dumbest sheep out of all of them" He starts to pet her head while looking back at you.

"I am not gonna beg you not to shoot me, if that's what you feel like doing then go ahead, but at least if I die here you might as well take care of Tots out of your guilty conscious"

You start to lower your gun and let the barrel set close to your foot. "Let me see what I can find for you, just wait here". As you start to make your way back to your house you start to wonder if this is a good decision, you've helped a man out like this before and where did it leave you?

Alone and nowhere to go.

Gathering what you can and making sure to grab a small bucket of water, you make your way back towards Simon, taking in the scenery of him and the sheep, almost back in the huddle that they where in when you found him. "I have some water, bandages, and a single bandied i found in my kitchen" Simon lets out a small chuckle and grabs what you have " oh yes, a bandied is exactly what I need".

You see him eye you as you start to frown "Well I do have crutches but frankly there in the attic and I can't reach the string to pull the latter down." "You look tall enough to reach an attic string if I say so myself" he lets out while trying to roll up his pant leg. "Well I can't, so unless you can go in there yourself to grab them I don't think your getting them" He looks at you and gives a small nod.

"Can you help me up?, I know I'm a big man but I promise I won't do anything, help me up and ill grab the string to the attic for the crutches and stitch myself up."

Walking a bit closer to him and debating on wither you really should, you decide to because you do know that you have more of a advantage if he does decide to do anything. Helping him stand up and trying not to fall when he applied most of his weight on you "What's your name?" he says as he turns his head to look at you.

"Y/n" you say out loud. You see him smile a bit and nod his head "Y/n, that's a nice one, really pretty". You turn your head to glare at him as your almost to the front of your house, "Don't think flattery will get you anywhere, i am simply helping then you will be on your way, the same for Tots."

He nods his head in agreement. "As you have said, that is what I shall do." While making your way through the front door and making a turn into the small hallway where your stairs are, he pulls on the string and brings down the latter for it. You help walk him back into your living room to sit down on the couch, to make your way up the attic stairs. You hated going up here, the pile of boxes of someone you loved stacked away being unused and forgotten.

Coming out of the attic and walking back towards the living room you take a stop to really look at Simon. You can't really help but admire how he is really built like a farmer, His muscles tight through his flannel and the scares that ran across his face, let alone the nice tan he has going on, he is a beautiful man to look at.

You watch as he struggles to finish getting his pant leg up past his knee, you walk towards him and bend down to help. " I know how to sew and what not, I use to help my late husband when he would get hurt tending to the animals." You look up to see his eyes widen a bit.

"Husband" Simon says, not really surprised but having a undertone to it. "Well that was before he past, those are his crutches there so please take care of them."

Simon nods his head in acknowledgment while his lips tighten in a line "I understand". He watches as you start to dab the rag in water and onto his wound, taking deep breathes when you start to actually stitch it up. "Thank you y/n, I really do appreciate this."

Giving him a small smile and making sure to clean up the mess, you start to walk away when you feel him grab your arm, very gentle and as soft as he can manage.

"Let me stay the night y/n, I know it is a lot to ask but I can hardly walk and I'm tired, in return I'll help you with your farm the best I can while taking care of mine."

You can feel the tears start to swell and your heart beating heard against your chest. It has been years sense you've last had any man come anywhere near you like this, and even offer to help you. you can't help but feel a bit ashamed. You're a widow, left alone in this house to rot and die, and it is something you have come to accept a long time ago, but here, right now, you can make a decision just like you did years ago when your late husband sat in that same chair, in this same situation.

"Okay" you say to him. "You can help"

Sheepherder Simon

So this story if intended to be sort of a slow burn and i will definitely add a second chapter whenever I am able to. but intel then I hope you enjoy reading my story!!!


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8 months ago

My life -Gaz-

Here is a little love for my baby Gaz. TW: None

F/N = First name L/N = Last name

My Life -Gaz-

Gaz loves to have his things in order. Being on time, clothes being folded a certain way, his shampoos and body soap put in there correct spots in the shower. Sometimes he leaves room for error if he ever needed an off day, some time to himself, but tonight, it had to be perfect.

When it came to you, he needed to feel like he has everything in control. He needed to be perfect and needed to have his things in order for you.

Holding the ring in his hand, snugged inside the pink fuzzy box he stuck into his pocket with a toothy grin on his face. He had planned everything. Made sure Soap and Ghost sent you on a "much needed assignment", while being able to convince price to use the common room to bring together a night you wouldn't forget.

A big banner hanging from the ceiling, extra cushions put onto dining chairs and a table cloth draped over the table. He didn't forget to put on the tux for your guys' shared dog. Everything was exactly as he had imagined it.

The only thing now was to wait for you.

Heart thumping, nervous glances, he watches as you slowly walk in, a blindfold covering your eyes.

"Where are you taking me soap" you say, chuckling out loud

Soap looking at Gaz and backing away from the door.

"Right for this moment" Gaz says

Removing your blindfold and looking at him, there is Gaz, one leg on the floor with the pink fuzzy box in his hand.

Tears running down his face, his hands trembling to the point that he almost drops the ring.

F/N L/N, I have spent every waking day of my life waiting for my moment like this, my moment that I would be able to spend with the one I love, the one I want to hold, and take care of, my one that I would kill for and die for, I have never been more willing in my life to put everything behind me to move forward in life

F/N L/N will you marry me?

Cries of nervousness turning into cries of joys as he hears you scream yes!

Tripping over his legs while trying to run towards you, he indulges you in a hug and slowly slips the ring onto your finger.

"You are my start and my end to life F/N, thank you"

My Life -Gaz-

Thank you for reading my sweet loves!! I hope y'all are having a wonderful Morning, evening, or night!


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1 week ago
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3 months ago

Oh my god, I love this 💗

Blue Eye Blast On Patreon 💙💥💙

blue eye blast on patreon 💙💥💙

10 months ago

Lost and found -König-

Tw: some cuss words?

When I tell you that König is a southern man in my head, heee is.

You knew that when you were in high school listening to the speeches of how to not to do drugs, or how bad drinking is for you, or how its double bad to drink and drive, you start to wonder why you didn't pay close enough attention because if you did you wouldn't be stranded on the side of the road.

Truthfully you weren't that tipsy, a shot here and there didn't kill you but having a run down car and only a small amount of water definitely did. You did not think that this was how your night was going to turn out. Watching your feet as you walk along side the road you put your thumb out in hopes of catching somebody, anybody really would be perfect. "Come ooooon" you yell out as another car passes you for the umpteenth time. You sit down in the grass feeling a bit embarrassed for yourself while trying to keep your puke in rather then out. How nice it was to finally see a truck pull over to the side of the road after sitting there waiting for so long, your knight and shining armor. You stood up to slowly start walking to the truck while you feel your nerves go haywire, when the biggest gol darn man you have ever seen steps out of the drivers side. "Hey are you okay?" "Do you need help?"

Your entire body is frozen in place, that is not a knight in shining armor, that is a executioner, why the hell does he have a rag over his face, why is he so big? he looks like he could squeeze your head right in between his arms and you would pop like a cherry. "My name is König, I am sorry to scare you, I just saw you sitting here and wanted to see if you needed any help". You watch as he takes off his red flannel and hesitantly hands it to you. "Here, you can wear this, its a bit chilly out here" As you slowly reach up to grab his flannel you peak at the back of the sticker that on his truck. "Military" you state out loud. König chuckles a bit and nodes his head. "Ya I am in the military, a good chunk of my life really"

"If you want I can drive you someplace safe, or you can use my cellphone to call someone"

If only you knew any numbers on the top of your head, you politely ask him to take you back home. He walks around his truck to open up the door for you as you climb into the passenger seat. Trying to cover your bottom with your hand as you do so, because your skirt might just be a little to short. You watch as he closes the door and steps back into the drivers seat. Sitting there as he starts to drive back onto the road you slip the flannel on. You never would have expected his flannel to smell as good as it does. Like a crisp wood smell with a hint of smoke, and definitely some sweat and dirt to. Maybe because you have been a bit buzzed, only know you have realized that this man has a thick Australian accent as he is speaking to you. "Your jacket is so warm" you say as you cut him off. You see him peeking at you through the corner of his eye, but as he starts to ask you were you live you fall asleep with your head against the window.

Lost And Found -König-

This image is from hqsugax on twitter.

So I do have an idea of maybe adding a second part to this but I am not positive yet. I hope you enjoyed my little story of one of my favorite husbands. Thanks for reading.


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10 months ago

All eyes on you -Nikto-

All Eyes On You -Nikto-

Nikto couldn't understand the feelings he had coursing through his veins, why his pulse was quickening, his hands were clammy, and his throat felt dry, but how lovingly he stared at you with his bright blue eyes. He was absolutely smitten on how your night shirt wrapped around your curves just right, how he could make out the outline of the rolls on your side. How you were shuffling your feet on the ground with a slight smile on your face, while he watched your entire face turn red from blushing so hard. The steam from your shower was still rolling off of you, hair wet and tangled. He had wanted nothing more then to be by your side tonight, to hold you close to his chest and to feel your soft skin. To feel your chest rise and fall and to hear you breathing out loud. He needed to know that you were alive and next to him throughout the night. The thoughts in his head could be a lot for him at times, making up scenarios that had him fighting rage inside that one couldn't see from the outside, but when you invited him in to spend the night when he confessed that he needed you by his side, he knew that he would punish himself if he said no. You were absolutely perfect to him. You are his entire world, his savior in life, the one he needs without even realizing at times. When he decides to strip down to nothing besides his boxers and mask, and asked you if you were comfortable with sharing the bed together, you finally felt like the missing piece in your body was sliding into place. He was so gentle and almost hesitant when you laid yourself next to him. It was like you were going to break if he touched you to hard. You could feel his arm curling itself around you, placing his hand along side your back with the biggest sigh being left out. The hair on his chest was smooth and the scars on his skin deep. When he thought you were asleep he would smell your hair trying to engrave it into his brain. He would rub his hands along side your back and rub his feet along side yours. He was in heaven and he never wanted to let go. He knew that one day he was going to die, and if that day was tonight laying next to you, he would fully accept it with his only thoughts being of you.

All Eyes On You -Nikto-

I hope you enjoyed reading, this is definitely one of my favorite post so far. I hope yall's night/day is going well.


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21 and obsessed with fictionNot the best writer but I do enjoy tryingtiktok - crunchyheartbeat

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