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if one day Kylar visiting PC room and found a hamster cage with a black hamster named after him? 🥺🫳🐹
He's searching around for things of yours to take when he finds the cage. Kylar can't help but want to hold him but as soon as he pulls the hamster out it bites him and squeaks loudly
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kinktober day 19: somnophilia (m!kylar x f!pc)
word count: 883
tags/warnings: somnophilia, dubcon, cunnilingus, jerking off, kylar is a creep
Kylar gently closed the window behind him, careful to make no noise as he did so. He had peered through the glass before entering your room and knew you were already asleep; he had no interest in disturbing his love.
There you were, fast asleep in your bed. He tiptoed over closer and couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across his face. You were simply too adorable. You looked so peaceful, with your lips slightly apart and hair splayed over the pillow. “So cute…” he whispered as he softly stroked a tendril of hair.
His hand pulled away as if he were burnt when your lips smacked, but you were only shifting and were still fast asleep. Thank god.
Kylar’s eyes traced down from your head to your exposed bare throat and collarbone, shoulders sticking out from the threadbare blanket. Your sleeping form was so…appealing. He licked his lips watching you, pants already beginning to tighten uncomfortably.
Carefully, he sat down at the edge of the mattress, hoping not to disturb you. Then, he tugged down the blanket to expose your full body. Your shirt had ridden up, exposing your tummy, and the short shorts left little to the imagination. “Fuck,” he whispered.
The hunger within him was growing uncontrollably, and Kylar knew he had to act soon, lest he be caught. So, ever-so-gently, he tugged your sleep shorts down to your ankles, exposing your beautiful pussy to the night air.
It was so lovely, and rarely did Kylar get the chance to admire it - you - like this. He reached out to stroke your folds softly, freezing momentarily when a sound came from your throat. But you were still fast asleep.
Then, like a moth drawn to the flame, his face moved closer to your cunt, flicking your clit with his tongue.
God, you tasted so sweet. So perfect. He pressed kisses to your inner thighs before diving back in, enjoying the taste of your growing wetness on his tongue. Quiet whimpers fell from your lips and Kylar hoped you were having the sweetest of dreams while he went to town on your cunt.
Kylar alternated between sucking on your clit and stroking your folds with his tongue, occasionally worming into your hole as well and stroking your inner walls. He pulled his sweatpants down, exposing his aching cock that was practically dripping with precum. He hesitated before placing your legs over his shoulders, then slipped two fingers into your now-soaking cunt as his other hand drifted down to stroke his length.
His hips humped your mattress with every stroke of his flushed cock, in tandem with his tongue on your clit and fingers pumping in and out of your hole. Kylar idly wondered what you would do if you woke up to him taking care of you like this. You’d probably be so happy. What could be better than having him fuck you in your sleep? You’d probably be so grateful you’d let him take you on the spot…
Kylar moaned into your folds as his fantasies went wild in his head. You were mumbling and whining in your sleep, but now, he almost wished you would wake up. He wanted to feel your hands thread through his hair, tugging at it. He wanted to hear the sweet cries and the way you moaned his name come from your mouth. He wanted to see you writhing beneath him, begging him to do whatever you wanted with your body, fucking until dawn broke.
“F-fuck,” he said out loud. His words were muffled by your thighs. “You taste so good…I love you so much.” Kylar was fucking into his fist pathetically, imagining it was your plush walls instead. He imagined he was rutting into your body instead of this uncomfortable mattress. You would call out his name and tell him how much you loved him, how amazing his cock felt inside of you, how you would never love anybody other than him.
“P-please my love,” Kylar mumbled against your skin. “Tell me how much you need me. Tell me you love me.” His thumb rubbed his slit as he felt a tightening in his stomach. His fingers scissored in your core, no rhyme or reason as his breath grew more stuttered.
“Pleasepleasepleaseplease,” he murmured. You were moaning louder now but still were fast asleep, tossing and turning. Kylar hoped that if anyone overheard they would just think you were having a nightmare. But in reality, he hoped you were having pleasant dreams - about him.
A long whimper spilled from your mouth as your cunt clenched around Kylar’s fingers. He would only watch in awe as you came in your sleep.
Kylar knew his release was near and he leaned back, rapidly stroking his cock. “I-I love you,” he moaned as ropes of cum spurred across your stomach. He took a moment to admire it, but you started moving. So he quickly pulled up your shorts (hoping his cum would dry in the night and stay on you), tucked you back in and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.
He pulled his own pants back up and sighed back at you. “Soon, my love,” he whispered.
Then Kylar went back out the window, as if he was never there in the first place.
#author I owe you my whole life#somno kylar content…. literally shaking#i want you#I am on my hands and my knees pls kylar… fck me in my sleep#who said that#sheepietalks
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Join the temple
Based on this post I made below lol
#my art#dol#degrees of lewdity#dol sydney#sydney the fallen#sydney the faithful#dol jordan#jordan the pious
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kinktober day 17: double penetration (m!sydney x f!pc x m!kylar)
word count: 1173
tags/warnings: double penetration (vaginal), unprotected sex, corrupt sydney, lowkey ooc for both syd and ky because neither of them would willingly get into this situation but it's my kinktober and i get to make the rules
“You can’t back out now. This is what you wanted, remember?”
Sydney’s teasing voice taunted you as you laid bare before him and Kylar. Things had started out so lighthearted. You were only teasing, or so you had thought. But one thing had led to another and now you were entirely naked, laying on the bed - and so were the two of them.
“I-I want her pussy,” Kylar muttered, looking shy but his voice having a determination in it. Truthfully, you could barely hear what he said. You were focusing on his hard cock just inches away from your face, with Sydney’s hovering nearby as well.
Sydney sighed and brushed his dark hair away from his face. With the hair dye, if you didn’t know any better, the two of them could be brothers. “That’s not fair,” he chided Kylar, who flushed slightly. Even now, he still treated Kylar like this. “Why should you get it all to yourself?”
Kylar’s face darkened, and he crossed his arms across his chest. “B-because,” he said, but it was clear he had no real argument.
Finding your voice finally, you managed to speak up. “You guys know I’m right here, right? You shouldn’t talk about me like I’m a piece of meat…”
Both of their faces softened slightly at that. “Sorry,” they said in unison. But then, Sydney cleared his throat.
“But I’m still right. It’s unfair to let Kylar hog your cunt.”
It was still embarrassing to be talked about like that, but you had to go along with it. “You could take turns?” You offered.
Sydney shook his head. “No, Kylar wouldn’t let me have a turn,” he suddenly snapped his fingers, as if a great idea had come over him. Which sent a shiver down your spine. “I know! We’ll share.”
He had a devious look on his face, and you felt yourself blanch. “S-share?”
Sydney nodded, stepping closer. Not one to be one-upped, Kylar stepped closer too. “You can take us both, can’t you?”
You weren’t confident, honestly, but knew there was no use arguing with them. Kylar suddenly pulled you up to him, holding you close and pressing your chest against his. He whined as he dragged his cock through your folds.
But before he could do anything further, Sydney stepped behind you, his cock hot against your bare ass. “There’s nowhere to hide, beloved.”
Kylar was already helplessly rutting against you, bumping your clit as he did so. “So wet,” he mumbled. “I-I can’t wait.”
With that, Kylar pushed his fat cock into your hole, and you gasped at the sensation. Just when your walls were adjusting to his presence, you felt another poke at your entrance. Sydney’s long, slender cock was attempting to slide in.
“Fuck,” was all you could manage, and after a few moments of trying, you felt him inside you, too. You felt fuller than you ever had before with their two cocks inside, sandwiched between them.
“Oh, god,” you moaned as they both began to move, stretching you out more than you ever imagined possible. You felt a little lightheaded, overwhelmed by the body heat surrounding you.
“Feels s’good inside you,” Kylar whispered, as if it were a secret only the two of you were sharing. He dragged his tongue all over your breasts, sucking on your nipples occasionally. “I love you. I love you so, so much.”
“Do you like this?” Sydney murmured directly in your ear, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “Being filled up like this? I never knew this could - hah - be so fun.”
Sydney’s hands were on your shoulders, his breath hot against your skin, while Kylar’s badly bitten nails scratched your waist. Both boys were thrusting into you, moaning, your cumulative sweat making every plap plap plap as hot and wet-sounding as imaginable.
You couldn’t deny how incredible it felt to be fucked by two cocks at once. Every slight movement hit the perfect spot inside of you, and even just the feeling of their bodies squishing against yours was enough to make your head spin.
You opened your mouth to try to explain this to Sydney and Kylar, but you were already so supremely fucked out that all that came out was a strangled “mmph.”
“Don’t try and speak,” Sydney shushed you, and your head lolled back onto his shoulder. “Just enjoy it, love.”
“Mhm,” you choked out. With Kylar licking and sucking your tits, and now Sydney doing the same to your neck, you felt embarrassingly close. “Ah - ah - gonna cum -”
“Already?” Sydney let out a breathy chuckle, though he sounded fairly far gone himself. Meanwhile, Kylar was mumbling what sounded like “pleasepleasepleaseplease” over and over again.
A guttural cry burst from your mouth as you came on their cocks, unable to form words anymore. Kylar and Sydney were jackhammering into you to the point you felt like you might pass out.
“Feels so good having you clench around our cocks,” Sydney said softly. Kylar nodded furiously in agreement, damp hair sticking to his forehead.
Squeaking out breathy moans, you began to grow overstimulated. It was almost too much to handle. That triggered your second orgasm, and you were thankful for being sandwiched between the two. Otherwise, you would have entirely collapsed, their bodies the only thing holding you up at this point.
“Gonna cum inside you,” Kylar muttered. “Gonna fill you up so much so everyone will know you’re mine–” his babbling got cut off by a sharp gasp, and he moaned your name and buried his face between your tits as his cum spilled inside of you.
“Fuck,” Sydney moaned through gritted teeth. “Not gonna last much longer - I -”
Whatever he was going to say was lost as his own climax hit, filling you up with even more seed. Sydney’s body was hot and sweaty against your back, and you could feel his heart beating erratically and his body trembling as he came down from his orgasm.
After a few beats, the two men gently pulled out of you one-by-one. First, you felt a gush of cum leak out of your fucked-out cunt. Then, your knees began to wobble, and they each caught your arm before you collapsed fully, gently setting you down on the bed, cum still trickling out of you. You needed several moments to catch your breath before you could even think of saying anything to them.
“That was,” you tried, but nothing else came out, so you simply flopped back onto the bed. Kylar gave you a soft smile and laid next to you, tracing idle patterns into your skin with his finger.
“I love you,” Kylar whispered, before his eyes narrowed. “...but I was better, right?”
Sydney scoffed and sat down on your other side. “Seriously?”
Kylar shrugged, but you gave him a sharp look before he could say anything more. Sydney took your hand and pressed it to his lips. And the three of you sat in comfortable silence for some time after that.
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Kinktober 2024 — Ghost Kylar
— ✧ pairing: M!Kylar / F!Reader — ✧ genre: smut 18+ — ✧ word count: 6,988 — ✧ warnings: ghost, ghost sex, yandere, brief depiction of self harm, major character death (duh, he’s a ghost), masochism, blood, dub con, kylar is cringe as fuck, public sex, biting, creampie, knifeplay — ✧ synopsis: it's ironic, isn't it? how the one thing he wants most in this world is the one thing he can't have... his existence does have its advantages though, some that you'll experience intimately!
— ✧ A/N: sorry this took me so long to finish! thank you for your patience. enjoy some kylar fun :D...
— ✧ kinktober masterlist
You’d think that dying and being turned into an ignored ghost would be an absolute hindrance, right? The whole… being incorporeal ordeal might present some issues sometimes, for some people, he imagines. Unable to fulfil that terrible itch to touch, to be touched, floating in a relative void of nothingness for all eternity just because of one stupid, rash decision. It’d be a pain for sure, he thinks, if he was completely disallowed to touch at all. But perhaps his excessive yearning for you is like magic, in the sense of being strong enough to bend the rules of existence itself to allow him a little, just enough feeling for him to be satisfied.
For now, at least.
And isn’t that proof enough of his love for you? That he was made to be with you, just as you were for him? Surely, given that every other ghost he’s met thus far has complained about the lack of literally anything, and how he must be so lucky to be allowed the privileged of reaching out to you on any God given occasion, that is proof. It’s certainly not luck that had him end up here, is it? No, it could never be…
Instead, he puts it down to love, plain and simple.
Though he did very little of loving you in his life prior, publicly regarding. Far too afraid of approaching you in fear of scaring you away with his… well, people call him weird for a reason, right? Now at least, he figures it might a good time to catch up on all those missed opportunities he was silly not to take before. It’s what he’s due for his patience, right? For committing the ultimate proclamation of love, undying in his quest to make you his.
He hadn’t intended on dying, to be honest with you. Carving your name into his arm one lonely night to comfort himself— he was just too sloppy with it. But what else could you ever hope to expect from a man who was rock hard at the mere thought of having you brand him forever, self inflicted or not. All the blood rushing to his cock before even grabbing the knife; it’s a wonder he even managed to pass from blood loss due to how hard his cock throbbed for you, blade in his shaky hand and oh so sharp. Sharpened just for this occasion, y’know? Especially for you, nothing but the best would ever do for his girl! And oh, how the slow drag of the pointed tip across his goose-bumped skin felt so good, had his cock all leaky and trembling in excitement just hovering the point above his arm. He hadn’t had much luck catching your attention thus far, regrettably sticking to the shadows in the meantime while you flirt and skirt around the whole school. But surely, with his new permanent tattoo, he’d be able to catch your eye—and hopefully a little more, yeah?
Trouble is, he’s a filthy masochist. A downright depraved mess of a man, erection upright and throbbing in anticipation as he cautiously tilts the tip of the knife against his soft skin. The expectation of it all, giddy with hope that this will once and for all secure his rightful place by your side, proving how only he can be your one and only true love, causes him to miscalculate just how deep he needs to carve his love for you. The strong bite of the knife, hot against his searing flesh, feels so fucking good— enough to have his hips jutting forward in an attempt to fuck the air as well as he’d like to fuck into your pretty princess pussy. It’s immediately dizzying, a horrible misuse of his love for you, but nonetheless a declaration that gets him off like nothing before. Instantly addicting in just how much it hurts, a choked hiss escaping his pouty lips as he digs in, digging as deep as he can with the knife to showcase just how far he’s willing to go for you, even if you aren’t actually present.
And the blood that drips from the first letter of your name should have been the first worrying sign, he knows. But isn’t that what made it all the more exciting in the end? The lack of thought, impulsively seeking more of that red hot high. Gushing from his open wound in waves, turning his arm a sticky red as a permanent stain of just how much he adores you. It’s sickening, really, how the black spots in his vision and the fluttering lashes only coaxed him into continuing, messily dragging the knife across his arm to start the next letter of your name— but alas. He’s always been weaker and smaller than most, and there’s only so much blood one man can lose before death comes for him. It’s not that he was surprised about the outcome given the circumstances, honestly! It’s just… Different. Yeah. Not as bad as the other ghosts he’s came across have claimed— but then again, none can match just how much love he holds for you, he’s certain.
Loves you enough to pester you any and every chance he gets, the one living soul he’s still yet tethered too. He imagines it’s got something to do with the fact that you aren’t fully his yet, and when you are and he inevitably has to leave, he’ll be waiting patiently for your arrival on the other side. But for now, it’s fun to simply exist by your side, to have you be the only one left to notice him; as he’s always ever wanted, really. And, to run his ghostly fingertips up and down your exposed arms, tickling you for attention while you enter the classroom is pleasure enough.
“Kylar—” you whisper shout at him in return, intending to scold, no doubt. But all it does is excited him some more, like the fucking ghoul he truly is, and always has been. A wretched excuse of a man, little fucking pervert, only you get to see his true side now. “Not. Here.”
Though he loathes to be back in this prison, he’s aware that you’ve got grades to keep up on where he doesn’t. And if he’s honest, it’s not so bad being back only because now he can sit besides you every class, every day. Back when he was alive, this was one of his ultimate dreams. And if all it takes is to pass away and to float by your side for eternity to do just that, then he thinks he’d kill himself a million times over just to prolong this dream. Standing by your side through it all, even if all merely consists of keeping you company through your morning math class like the dutiful boyfriend he is.
He always wondered how you did in maths. The school schedule disallowed him from visiting you during such early morning hours, and he always hated sitting anxiously in his own class all alone, eager to get out of it as soon as possible . Not solely because he was regularly bullied in class by his peers, ridiculed to no end for his antsy attitude and twiddling thumbs— stupid, the lot of them. His one regret is not having the time to get back at them some way, somehow. But he was also eager to leave class because that meant he was one step closer to you. Always you, thinking, watching, dreaming, you, you, you. He’d endure the torment of fellow students so long as he survived long enough to simply sit beside you for that one hour during English class together. That, truly, was the highlight of his day. Every fucking day. So much so that he found himself missing the bullying and the shoving and the name calling at the weekends only because he wasn’t in school to see you.
There was always solace in your scent, safety in your stares.
It didn’t so much matter to him that you never really paid him the time of day, always avoiding his wistful looks and deflecting his trembling touch. It didn’t bother him that you’d sneer down at him, spitting those same hurtful words that his bullies so often did, too. It’s okay, he gets it. You were just trying to survive, right? He’d never fault or blame you for that, not when he does the exact same thing. But deep down, you like him, don’t you? You just had to protect yourself, make sure that you didn’t also become a lonely little target like him.
He’d have killed them for you if you asked though, y’know?
Lest his blade get dirtied though, he’s glad that you never. Only so that he could kill himself in such a pure way, untainted by others gross stink and sweat upon his blade. Now, as he watches you sit in math class with hawk eyes, one hand precariously placed upon your shoulder to remind you of his presence, you can rest assured that he’s doing so only with the best, most clean intentions. His tummy filling with butterflies at the way you shiver under his touch, the pencil in your hand wobbling in your unsure grip as his cold courses through your system.
“Sorry,” he whispers to you, though there’s really no need to. Nobody else can see him, he’s almost certain… at least no one else seems to react to him. But old habits die hard or something, and he doesn’t want to get you in trouble for chatting to him during class. “Am I still too cold? I don’t mean to be, I don’t think I can help it, I--”
A shoulder shrug has his hand falling from your body, and he can’t help but to smile wide at the way you continue trying to communicate with him in spite of the orders by River to stay quiet. You’re trying for him, that’s all that matters to his unbeating heart.
“Got it. Too cold, sorry.” He quips, making sure to keep his voice low enough so as to not annoy you, but also so that he has a better chance of hearing your bored little sighs. The huffs of concentration as you do your best to work through the questions presented before you. He always did admire your work ethic, and it’s a genuine joy to be offered the privilege of watching you hard at work this morning. The little tips and taps of your pencil against the old wooden desk, scribbles on your work book, even the slight creaks and squeaks of your school chair from under your bored wiggles. More than anything, he simply adores just watching you. From every angle, behind any shadow. You’re just so perfect to him, even when you ignore his circling attempts, stalking around you like some sort of overbearing teacher— or shark.
He doesn’t mean to be weird, it’s just… Despite not being with you for very long in his more ghostly appearance, he can’t stop wanting to watch you. Creeping around you at every opportunity— you were the first person he thought to haunt when he realised his predicament fully. And now, knowing that not only is his temptation going unnoticed by those around him, but that you specifically are allowed to bear witness to his wanting, is everything he could have ever asked for and more.
Well, besides asking for his touch to return to its normal heated self, for your benefit solely. But coldness has its play reasons too, right? And he’s so sure you’d get used to it eventually, and he doesn’t mind waiting for as long as you take. Because he loves you. And because he doesn’t have anything else worth doing with his boring existence now, too.
Besides continuing to dote upon you.
Which is what he plans on doing, leaning closer in from behind you, intending on playfully distracting you from your work with a quick peck on your cheek; if not for the fact that something, or someone else, steals your attention away from him before his rightful opportunity.
Lamentably, he turns his head with your own snap turn, a scowl present on his face before he even considers the possibility of who might have called your attention before him. Instead, he’s upset merely that he doesn’t get to see your reaction. Surely it’s one of annoyance that you wear, right? How dare you interrupt my studies, leave me and my ghostly boyfriend alone before I report you!
In an ideal world, that’s how he’d like you to react. And, perhaps a little selfishly, that’s how he expects you to react. A quick dismissal, a rude awakening to whatever sap decides to distract you from your hard work, studying so prettily for him...
But he’s dead. And that certainly isn’t ideal, so he doesn’t fully expect your reaction to be perfect either. It’s okay, there’s time to work on it… in this life and in your own after life. But alas, the rude awakening that greets him upon coming face to face with Whitney’s horrible leer rocks him to his core. His fists automatically balling up at his sides in an attempt to protect himself from one of his biggest bullies, ready to fight back if need be— he’s already went ahead and killed himself anyway. But of all people, it just had to be his arch nemesis that threatens to dirty you with that eye fucking, huh? Fucking typical, though he obviously could tell that Whitney sat behind you in math class— not in the least because you’ve complained time and time again about just how much that man bothers you, he had been silently hoping, fucking wishing to be left alone with you. Just this once. Is that too much to ask?
Hasn’t his death been payment enough?
Or better yet, his genuine lifetime of pain and suffering, standing between you and the bullies as much and as often as he could, should be worth at least a look in his direction, right? Not that he’s mad at you, God, never… rather, he’s angered by Whitney’s continued dislike of him, going so far as to bully him in death, too. How Whitney is so wanting, always, of what does not belong to him. The sultry “Got the answers, slut?” That falls from his lips is disgusting, an immediate wave of nausea crawling up Kylar’s throat in response; if only his voice could be heard. Whitney never fails to irk him, and it saddens him to learn that there’s very little escape even after his passing.
Thankfully, though, you tell him to piss off.
“Atta girl!” Kylar commends you, beaming down at you from behind as the words he’s always wanted to say roll off his tongue so easily, now that he’s in constant privacy with just you. And, dare he admit, your refusal to submit to the bully has his cock twitching in his pants. Just a little, like a small warning. It’s hot seeing you fight back, even more so when he’s convinced that you’re doing it in an attempt to be left alone with him some more.
But still, no reaction from you upon his praise. And still, Whitney tries to steal your attention off of his kind words, a sulking huff escaping him at the way you instantly allow the bully the privileged of looking at you, let alone talking to you.
Despair grips his dead heart, dead to all but you, phantom pangs of pain begging to console you when Whitney tugs on your hair so unfairly—he’d never do the same to you, y’know? He’d brush it if you’d let him, wash and dry it all for you in a heartbeat. He’d look after you so well, if only you’d look at him and not—
“What was that, slut?” Whitney glares at you in the same way Kylar has been unfortunate enough to stare back at the barrel of a gun, too. And it upsets him, terribly so. So much so that he finds himself standing between you and Whitney on instinct; though this is immediately ineffective given how translucent and invisible he is to all but you. Quick, he thinks to himself. Something else, something that’ll immediately have you exiting the unfair situation…
He doesn't have much time to think, so he hopes you’ll forgive him for his rash actions of spinning around and pecking your cheek just like he’d originally wanted to do all along… but you should forgive him, because you’re his, after all. And he’s only trying to help you at the end of the day.
“The fuck are you blushing for, freak?” Whitney’s voice continues to ring in his ears, and he can’t stop the creepy smile from tugging on his lips when witnessing the pretty pink that dusts your cheeks in response to his help. See, he knew you’d appreciate it!
“I can, um… Kiss you some more, if you’d like?” Kylar fights for your attention, though meek as he might be. He knows what’s best for you, obviously, but it’s easier for everyone involved if he makes you feel like it’s your decision, right? That’s what he read online, anyway, when researching about how to find a girlfriend…
But perhaps the double attention is a little too much for you to handle, the frown you wear in response is surely distaste borne out of Whitney’s incessant yapping, right?
It couldn’t be anything else. Certainly not because of him, he’s sure. Because he’s helping, isn’t he?
Seconds feel like minutes as you stare at—or is it through?—him. But before he has a chance to double check with you that he made the right decision—which he did, but sometimes you need a little reminding, of course—you steal the opportunity of speech away from him. A quick nod in his general direction, he can’t tell if it’s aimed more at him or Whitney, but what matters is that the glare that soon follows cannot be mistaken for anyone other than him.
So hot… has him tensing up in excitement.
“Excuse me.” You say, voice tense as your lips press into a thin line. “Sir,” You promptly raise your hand, and Kylar is so pleased that you’re standing up for yourself that he claps for you, cringe as it may be. Theres no one but you to witness it anyway. “Can I use the restroom?”
Oh, “Good idea,” Kylar commends you, racing around to the front of your desk in a genuine effort to help you pack up your things, forgetting that he’s a fucking ghost. It’s the one negative that he’s came to experience with his new existence— he wishes he could physically help you out some more. “Escape into the bathroom, a classic—”
River cuts him off with an exhausted: “If you must.” but Kylar can hardly complain. The sight of you collecting your items pairs nicely with the scoff Whitney lets out following your dismissal, and like the lost little puppy he is, Kylar eagerly follows you out of the classroom and into the school hallways with his metaphorical tail wagging happily behind him. Not a single fucking a care in the world, which makes a change in such a setting.
Because he helped. Because that’s the only thing he ever wants to do for the rest of his afterlife; help you. Be with you, be around you, slipping around hallway corners and into the girls bathroom with you— which he’s been inside of on occasions, in particular when stalking you during lunch break. He wonders if you ever noticed? Still, you enter into the same cubicle you always do— second from the left, closest to the wall. And he figures the fact that you slam the door on his face isn’t because you want him to leave you alone, but out of sheer frustration over the situation, over Whitney and his bullying tendencies. He forgives you for the rude action anyway, so it doesn’t really matter the reasons why.
He’s a ghost.
And he’s not so sure why you adopt such a look of surprise upon his passing through the door to be beside you, offering you a lovesick little grin in response.
“What are you— why did you follow me, Kylar?”
The amount of pain in your voice aches him, has him reaching out to tenderly stroke your cheek with a soft coo falling from his pouty lips.
“Wanted to make sure you were okay, mostly…” which is the Gods honest truth! More than anything, he wanted to check that you were doing okay in private, where he could look upon you with stars in his eyes and dote on you to his hearts content. Congratulations resting at the tip of his tongue over just how well you handled that situation, and reassurances caught in his throat over the fact that he’s always more than willing to help you in any situation, utilising his ghostly energy solely in an effort to make your life all the more comfortable. But your scathing tone is quicker than his love, and instead of all those well intentioned thoughts spilling from his anxiously bitten lips, a tut now resides behind his teeth.
You avoid his gaze with another reprimand. “Okay?” is all you initially say, and he wants so badly to beg at your feet, yes, yes, I helped, didn’t I? Didn’t I do so good? But you once again cut him off before he even has a chance of pleading his case. “I was doing fine until, until you—”
Ah. He understands better now, he thinks. It’s true, you were handling yourself so well, better than he ever did when face to face with some scumbag like Whitney. He had to commend you there! But, with his helpful kiss, you had enjoyed it so much so that it ended up distracting you into a flustered state, right? Poor baby… you just need taken care of, right? He can understand why that’d be frustrating, having to escape the classroom and into the bathroom to try and deal with all of those assumed butterflies in your tummy— one cannot easily explain the intricacies of harbouring a ghost boyfriend, right? You— you must have wanted to get him alone in private to playfully scold him or something, a knowing giggle crawling up his throat at how red and cute your little cheeks are when staring back at him.
This is the perfect place to reward you, no doubt. Somewhere hidden, though still in public. He’d have liked to have played with you in proper public, watch you struggle to contain your enjoyment in front of so many others— because what would you even say to them? Oh, don’t worry, my ghost boyfriend is just balls deep in me right now, that’s why I’m moaning so loudly! No, of course not! It’s something to work up to, he concedes to himself. And for now, he doesn’t mind playing with you in secret public… since it’s what you're obviously wanting, after all.
It’s his turn to interrupt you for once, though it pains him to even think about being so rude to you, he thinks you might appreciate his efforts in the end. So long as he’s reading your signals right; there’s no way that he isn’t, his death and subsequent haunting of you has already proven just how strong his connection to you is… he could never be wrong when it comes to you.
“It’s okay, look,” he grabs your attention, one cold hand atop your head to gently push your vision down, until your eyes are in line with his crotch. He wants to show you just how much he appreciates you, how much he loves you and adores when you fight back, standing up for yourself is so attractive to him. And, more selfishly, “Look at what you do to me—” he huffs, wanting to help you understand exactly what your actions have stirred up within him today, so early on, too. You’re just so perfect, such a pretty girl to haunt, he can’t help but to want to express his feelings for you in the most plain way possible, y’know?
Front and centre, under your watchful eye, his cock throbs for you. Hard and heavy even if a little translucent; it still yet pulses with life, hidden under the loose pants he managed to die in. Not his first choice of clothing to be stuck in for eternity, but it gets the job done he supposes. And by that, he means that you can clearly see how it tents in your direction, dribbling precum all over himself simply from looking at that pretty expression you now wear. Brows furrowed and mouth agape, a gasp tumbling from your pretty pouty lips no doubt from his appreciation of you.
In awe, aren’t you? Of his utter dedication, how loyal he is to you, much like a dog. Tugging his bottoms off to wag his cock at you like a treat— “Got me all riled up.” he smiles genuinely, a soft sigh escaping him at the way you run your fingers through your hair, bashfully avoiding the rock hard cock right in front of you. He oh so loves how cute you are when you get all shy, light loving laughter spilling from his lips as he places a cool hand on your shoulder.
“There isn’t much room in here…” he thinks out loud, humming in faux thought for just a moment before surprise swivelling you around so that your back is now facing him. And the elbow you send into his side only turns him on some more, silly. He enjoys it when you fight back, because every punch and kick from you feels so much like a kiss, a reminder of the life he once had as pain courses through him and pools in his cock. “But there’s enough, I think.”
And if there isn’t, well… Perks of having a ghost for a boyfriend— he can just phase through the stall and still fuck into you. Half in and out, it doesn’t matter. You’re the only person, and thing in general, that he can meaningfully interact with.
His cock automatically taps against your ass when you teasingly squirm around with want, hypnotising him with your movements from side to side. Like you’re encouraging him, right? The way your knees buckle from under you as he towers behind you is so cute too, coaxing some more pre to leak from his tip just for him to smear it against your school skirt, a soft cooing tut escaping him as he tugs on the end of it, your panties soon following, and letting them drop just enough to have his cock pressing against your bare ass cheeks. And oh, how warm you are against his cold tip, prompting him to shiver against you when you refuse to let up tempting him with those pretty wiggles.
It only turns him on more seeing how excited you are for him to show his appreciation, those cute little muffles and whimpers you sound as he angles his hips down so that his spectral cock can rub between your soft and squishy thighs is soooo nice, something worth dying for, he thinks to himself.
And there’s so much satisfaction to be had in grabbing your wrists before you know what’s happening to you, pinning them above your head as you’re forced to submit over the toilet below you. There’s nowhere for you to run, nowhere that you can hide from him now that he’s dead— and isn’t that just so fucking exciting? So hot to him, his cock twitching incessantly against your flushed skin with a sweet sigh escaping him. You always have him feeling like a dirty little virgin again every time he dotes on you like this, his hips stuttering against you on instinct; it’s fucking silly how you have him feeling so good from relatively very little already.
Which just proves to him further that not only do you belong to him, but that you want this sort of treatment too. You could never convince him otherwise.
And how could you not want him anyway? With the way your body tenses up for his enjoyment, hands balled into tiny little fists for stability against the wall while he pins you in place. Your pretty pussy—God he’s so in love with her, wants to eat her out forever and ever, mark her all up with his seed, worship and lick and fuck her always, you’ve got no fucking idea the things he’d do for just a smidge of your cunt—leaking all over him, drooling slick up and down his cock for him to gag at; he’d die over and over again for this cunt.
He’s only so riled up because he witnessed your bravery too, but honestly, just being near you is enough to set him off. His grip on your wrists tightening while his other hand passes through the stall wall; sometimes he forgets that he can’t lean on anything but you for support. Which you happily accept, right? His free hand coming down to lock onto your waist, grabbing and pinching as a means to stay somewhat present in the moment, but he always inevitably loses his mind a little when it comes to you. Squeezing at your side from the delight of physical touch, finally. Balls just aching and heavy with seed for you as he rubs one out between your thighs idly, lazy with his strokes in the hopes of warming you up to how cold his spectral body is.
The things he wants to do to you. The things he will do to you.
“Wanna keep you like this forever—” he huffs, wondering if the breath that fans across the back of your neck is hot or cold, though it doesn’t truly matter. You shiver into it regardless, in turn choking his cock a little tighter against the fat of your thighs to have him choking on thin air above you. “So pretty, so proud of you today, God… Wanna praise you forever ‘n ever ‘n—”
He cuts himself off with a moan, his cock tip severely sensitive due to being unable to so much as rut against anything other than you. It’s only natural that he then relies on you a little more, right? He doesn’t mean to, but he simply has to; lest go goes insane and dead. But he hopes that in return for relying on you more than he should, he can make it up to you with how his cock slips and slides between your folds, rock hard and pulsing pleasantly with each knock against your clit. All sloppy with your slick— because duh, you want this reward, right?
Evident from how pitchy and strained your voice is when you regard him with: “Kylar, will you— quit it—!”
A sly smirk tugs on his lips in response. Sneaky and mean, a low sigh crawling up his throat before he gives you exactly what you want. Impatient little girl, it’s like you know that he’d do literally anything for you, whenever for you. Whatever princess wants, princess gets…
Which is exactly why he stops humping, as per your request. Drawing his hips back so that his tip catches perfectly on your cute little hole, the hand on your waist dipping a little further down to spread your ass cheek to the side for his viewing pleasure, before he rather unfairly thrusts his hips forward in one fell swoop and fucks you so full of his ghost cock that you’re left gasping for air. Nice and cooling, right? Especially against such soft and warm squishy insides— yin and yang. You expertly match him, his better half.
All wind is knocked out of him upon entering your sweet heat too, don’t worry. You’re not the only one struggling to take the stretch, carving his size out of your hole as a means of ownership. As if to say: this is my cunt. And he wont lie, part of why he immediately settles into a quick pace of in and out is to prove as much to you too. To prove to Whitney, look, see how much she’s gasping for me? How she tightens up with every pass of his throbbing cock in and out, only pulsing for you, because of you. Nothing else quite literally does it for him, his head thrown back in immediate sheer bliss, his own little personal heaven bent over before him in such a dirty cramped little space…
You deserve better, absolutely. And he’d love to give you just that later tonight when he follows you home, too. But a good boyfriend listens to his girlfriend, even if she doesn’t speak. You may not have voiced your want for him to fuck you raw in the school bathroom today, but he knew. Could pick up on all your little tells and non verbal communication so easily— and he’s pleased to know that he listened well given how your tight cunt just leaks over him. A loud slap surely to be heard from his fucks in and out— if he wasn’t a ghost, that is.
Another point as to why he must be fated to be with you, right? His groans and moans, the way his heavy with seed balls slap against your puffy little slit as you whine and wriggle all pretty for him; it’s all only for you. The sole listener, the only one able to hear and see him. In return, he muses to himself that if anyone were to walk in on this scene, him balls deep in your pretty pussy, hunched over you like a fucking dog in heat… they’d see nothing but your gaping hole struggling to take him. And isn’t that just so fucking hot? How you must stay quiet, lest anyone sees you in such a compromising situation? Nobody would fucking believe you, and he can feel the power he holds over you course through him with every greedy hump forward, and every quick draw back. Slamming his cock into you, fucking the breath right out of you with the weight he throws behind his possessive thrusts.
“Perfect—” spills from his smiling lips, tugged into a cheek aching grin the moment you begged him for more, like a good girl. “You’re so, so perfect, ah—“ his voice is high pitched, cunt rendering him useless, just a moaning mess of a dead man as he loses himself inside of you. Eyes rolled back and jaw slack with open mouthed sighs— he even drools on you. Just a little, in sheer pleasure. All he wants is to make you feel good, praise dripping from the end of his cock to leave your insides all sticky and goopy with precum, but you make it difficult for him to focus on the task at hand when you’re breathing so heavily like that, and tensing up to make it easier for him to thrust into you.
“Never gonna leave you.”
And he’s so happy to hear your muffled whimpers in response to his reassurances, coaxing him into stuttering his hips into you, unable to keep up with the amount of love and devotion pouring from his every greedy grab of your heated skin and wet smack of his cock into your gushing cunt. Like she can tell just how serious he is, loyal to you in life and in death, refusing to let up on showing you his affection with fast enough fucks to have him on his tippy toes for you. It’s silly, how he’s just so easy for you. A simp through and through, strengthening the grip he has on your wrists only to pin them behind your back, using your own body against you as leverage to better fuck into you. And he doesn’t hear you complaining— quite the contrary, actually.
Gently, he hushes you. A soft sound pressed right against the shell of your ear, followed by a greedy groan of his own at the deeper angle he now fucks you in. “Wouldn’t want anyone to hear you, right?” his whispers against your soft skin, humming in faux thought over the imagined scene of you getting caught. It’s hot, of course, imagining the shocked look on your face upon the stall door swinging opening, his cock throbbing harder when he thinks about how he wouldn’t stop, not even for a single fucking second in the hopes of publicly claiming you as his own. God— he’s so close just from thinking about it.
It’d be the perfect display, he thinks. Pure ownership, indulgence at its finest. He only wishes he had the guts to do so when he was alive, cock balls deep in your tight little angel cunt for all to see just how well you squirm on it, like you were fucking made to take his cock. For him and him only, a ring of cream forming at the base of his cock to prove that he still has life left in him yet.
Even if it feels like he’s fighting for his life, fucking so deep into your cunt that he’s sure his cold tip is rocking against your cervix, kissing her so full of precum that you’re fucked into squelching around him. He’s just so sick for you, completely and utterly down bad in every sense, that he can’t help but to keep going. Ignoring your cries and pleads for something— he’s too busy getting his cock wet to fully listen to your words. Only that you sound good, making his cock tremble with impatience as his balls grow taut and his hips fight to keep up with the speed he wants to fuck you at.
It’s a wonder you haven’t fallen over by now, getting fucked by the ghost of a rabbit behind you.
“Close—” he chokes out for you, inhaling as much air as he possibly can in an attempt to keep up with himself, but his thrusts falter regardless. Failing to fucking you at a consistent speed and rhythm, caring selfishly only for his own enjoyment as he pounds you uncomfortable against the toilet wall. “So close,” he gasps, genuine and fraught with so much need, the tight suck of your cunt coaxing him closer, as if instinctively trying to help get him off faster, proves to be all he needs in the end.
Because it’s you. Because he’s downright obsessed with you, he doesn’t need much else to get off like a filthy pervert but you, to be honest.
And like the slut he is for you, he bends you over some more, chomping down on your clothed shoulder in a feeble attempt to leave more of his mark. The resulting sob you let out at the painful reminder of his existence forever by your side is what really does him in, fat ropes of cum shooting from his tip to surprise him into pained whimpers of enjoyment. Still, his hips don’t stop, fully milking himself to completion inside of your warm and wet cunt, filling her up enough to have some of his seed drip out and down to the bathroom tiles with muted thuds!
You’re so perfect, so fucking pretty and pliant, unable to escape him forever and ever. He wants to fuck you to death, wants to lock you up and keep you in his pocket so that he can praise your cunt whenever he wants— which is always. Let no one else even think about looking at you, breed you forever and always as thanks simply for existing. Making him feel so good, taking his cock so well—
Heavy breaths escape him as he soon slows down, still yet fucking into you at a lazy pace to make sure you get every single drop of seed he has to offer you. It’s what you deserve, after all, for being such a good girl for him. For being his good girl, more specifically. A sadistic smile making its way to his lips when he wonders if his cum will be seen dripping out of you by others, or if that too will be hidden from everyones view but your own. Your own dirty little secret to share with him; how romantic, huh?
“Love you,” he rushes to sputter as soon as he can catch his breath again, idly stroking himself off still while buried deep in your cunt, nuzzling against your neck while you shiver from under him. “Love you so much, ‘m so happy to be with you, you’re so pretty and perfect and— oh—” your cunt distracts him, as always. Squeezing and suckling his tip in his idle state, a breathy laugh escaping him at your lewd display of continued want.
“S’okay,” he reassures you, humming sweetly down your ear when you sniffle back at his lack of thought. Poor thing, it’s a shame you sound so nice when you cry. “Haven’t forgot about you, promise, just— lemme pull out, okay? Will look after you, make you feel good too.”
Anything to keep you by his side, really. It’s only a bonus that break time is soon approaching, and you’re gonna struggle to keep your mouth shut once he has a chance to get his lips on you. Determined to prove his existence through you by way of getting on his knees on the dirty bathroom stall, tongue already poking out in unadulterated excitement to make you feel good. Better than ever before, so that you’ve got no choice but to accept that he’s your fated mate.
So that you’re forced to accept him by your side, forever and ever. Even after death, you can’t and won’t escape him.
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ok but what if Kylar had a brainrot and said mthat’s so sigma my little toilet’ to you. What if whitney laughed at a rizz joke and tried to rizz you up with his mewing
- skibidi on my toilet anon
im actually gonna strangle u
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Do u think when pc and kylar finish having sex at the orphanage kylar rewatches it on his monitor
#sheepietalks#dol#he’s watching like :fuck I look so stupid when I cum what if I gave pc the ick#watching it and he’s like ‘’I need to correct my form’’#guys I miss him so much I miss my cute husband#I miss that little freak who I want to marry#dol kylar
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The DOL stickers are here (as well as some other stuff)!! Buy one for you and your freaky little friends <3
#oh my gODDDDDD#I was feeling like shit 2day BUT#*zooms into the tinnie kylar*#my pookie#the light of my life#my husband#my boyfriend#kylar my sweet little chewable boyfriend who i love sm#my good time boy#after I take a nap I’m buying one REAL
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The DOL stickers are here (as well as some other stuff)!! Buy one for you and your freaky little friends <3
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kinktober day 10: knife play (f!kylar x f!pc)
word count: 1286
tags/warnings: knife play, blood play, cutting, typical kylar yandere nonsense, no gendered terms used for reader but reader does have a cunt
“Don’t you like my knife, my love?” Kylar cooed, the cold steel scratching your neck as she gently dragged it down your skin. She wasn’t pressing hard enough to cut or injure you, but it was enough to make you nervous.
You were trapped in Kylar’s basement, as you had been for several days now - you weren’t entirely sure how long you had been there, as it was difficult to tell the difference between day or night in the dark, dank room. But Kylar - the sweet, lonely Kylar you had thought was just a bit of an oddball loner, but nothing too crazy - seemed to be growing more unhinged by the minute.
Now, she was flashing her knife to you, the handle decorated with a beautiful pink ribbon. “I made it pretty for you,” she said, using the tip of the knife to trace a heart on your skin. You shuddered. “Don’t you like it? Please tell me you like it.”
Despite everything, you still felt a pang of sympathy for the girl. After all, she was trying so hard just for you…you swallowed. “Yes,” you croaked out, voice raspy from disuse. “It’s…lovely.”
Kylar beamed, showering your face with kisses. “Yes! I knew you would love it! Oh, my love, you have no idea how happy this makes me!” She pulled away and pressed the flat end of the blade to your neck. It was cold. She pressed another kiss to your cheek.
When Kylar looked at you again, you saw her eyes were dark and wild. A wave of fear coursed through your body, but along with it was a wave of arousal. It was undeniable that this side of Kylar, however crazy and scary it was, also was insanely attractive to you. You could feel your skin flush, making the knife blade feel even colder.
“You’re so, so beautiful,” Kylar whispered, jumping off your lap to kneel in front of you. “My love, I want to taste you.”
She gently pushed your legs and they parted with ease. She still gripped her knife tightly in one hand, the other tracing random shapes on your bare thigh. “I want to mark you,” Kylar said softly, fingers tightening around the knife’s handle. “I want the world to know you belong to me, and me alone.”
You nodded in response. “...okay,” you said, and Kylar lit up again.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said cautiously, but her smile betrayed her true feelings. “But you have to let me do this. I promise it won’t hurt too much.”
You nodded again, and Kylar covered your thighs in even more kisses. Her hot breath so close to your wet cunt made you shiver with arousal. Your muscles tensed, and she rubbed your thigh gently. “Relax, my love. It’ll be fine.”
Kylar held up her knife resolutely and then brought it down on your skin. The sharp blade made you hiss as she swiftly drew lines across your flesh. You looked down at where she had held the knife, as the pain was over quick. On your bare thigh, blood bubbled up in the shape of the letter “K.”
She smiled again at you. “See, my love? It’s undeniable. If anyone dares to get closer to you -” her hand tightened even further on the knife handle. “- this mark will show them who you belong to.”
Kylar then bent her head over and lapped up your blood, like a small vampire in front of you, although she looked more like a tiny kitten. When she looked back up, her eyes were shining in adoration. “Now you’re a part of me.” She licked the blade too, ensuring every last drop was gone.
“Fuck,” you moaned. The sight was simply too erotic. Kylar grinned wildly at you.
“Oh! And guess what, my love!” She tugged up the skirt of her dress, revealing her entirely bare lower half. On her stomach was carved your first initial, slightly scabbing over, but nonetheless a fresh cut. “I did this earlier so we could match. I would’ve done it in front of you to show my eternal love, but I was afraid you might be squeamish about blood. I didn’t want to alarm you.”
Admittedly, the sight of Kylar with your initial carved into her skin…it certainly did something to you. “Oh,” was all you could squeak out, feeling lightheaded from how turned on you were. In response, she hummed happily, gently tracing your skin with the tip of her blade. It didn’t draw any blood; she was just doodling little scratch marks on your legs. Her chin rested on your knee and the vibration of her vocal chords sent tingles through your body.
You were starting to feel uncomfortable with how horny you were getting, and when you shifted slightly, Kylar didn’t miss it. “My love,” she giggled, forcing your legs open further. “You’re dripping for me.”
“Please, Kylar,” you breathed out, and her face instantly colored. She giggled again, sounding a little nervous and shy.
“M-my love wants me!” Kylar trilled. “O-of course you do. Of course. I must do what my love wants!”
Then, she dove her head in, lapping up your dripping juices the same way she had lapped up your blood mere moments before. You moaned as her tongue wormed into your aching cunt, licking you up as if she were dying of dehydration.
“Feels s’good, Kylar,” you groaned, your hands flexing in their bonds. How you wanted to lace your fingers in Kylar’s hair at that moment, knowing how she loved having her hair pulled hard.
“I love you,” she murmured, vibrations ringing across your folds. There was a clatter as she dropped the knife from her hand, instead slipping two fingers into your hole as her tongue traced hearts around your clit. “I love you. I love you, so, so much.”
“Oh my God,” you sucked in a sharp breath as her fingers curled at just the right angle inside of you. “Oh, fuck. Please don’t stop.”
“You’re so warm,” Kylar mumbled against the skin of your inner thighs. “And you taste so sweet.”
“Ah, Kylar,” your breath hitched as your body squirmed against its bindings, moving of its own accord. There was a slight stinging feeling in your thigh from her cuts that heightened your arousal. “I’m so close…”
She giggled, her breath warm as her fingers pumped in and out. “Please, my love. Please cum on my face.”
Your nails dug into the arms of the chair as your climax hit, whining out Kylar’s name while your hips lifted off the seat. Kylar diligently kept licking, not letting a single drop of your juices go to waste. The things her tongue was doing to your oversensitive clit made you feel like you were going to explode.
You rode out your orgasm and finally, Kylar pulled away, her chin glistening. She never looked so happy in her life, you thought. “Now I get to have even more of my love inside of me!”
“Hah, yeah,” you mumbled, still coming down from your high. Kylar had picked up her knife again and was idly twirling it in her hands as she gazed at you adoringly. “I…I really did like the knife, Kylar.”
She smiled and held it close to her chest, resting her cheek on your knee. “That makes me so happy!” Kylar traced her fingers on the “K” she had carved into your skin. The bleeding had stopped, but the scratch was clear as day. “Hm…maybe I should put my whole name on there! That way, everyone will know for sure what it means…”
All you could do was smile weakly as Kylar rambled on and on.
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Do you think that if you were to die Kylar would cannibalize you like how animals eat their owners after death?
God I love cannibalism
He honestly might, but I'm not 100%. I'm just not sure what order it would all going in. You dying, him going crazy and destroying everything, and the cannibalism....
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HOLY SHIT the rest of your art is so pretty im geeking sorry for sending seven million (two) things to ur inbox
LQMSKQMKWMW THANK YOU!!?!?L? I’m just a little creature,,, doodling for everything that catches my eyes,,
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Wait, how does Bailey feel about Xavier and what he did? Does he even know the full picture?
Bailey feels a bit annoyed by Xavier’s existence, the man did damage his most profitable money maker after all, if he sees Xavier bothering Kian he might pull the boy to the side- BUT! …. If there’s money involved,,, I could see Bailey letting Xavier,,, borrow Kian for awhile☺️ as long as he doesn’t bring Kian back too roughened up😊
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waogh... same lukawoo anon from beforl thanks for tossing me into the dol rabbithole i had no idea what the fuck that was until now but im frolicking in a flowery field
IM SO SORRY LUKAWOO ANON😭😭😭 I HOPE U LIKE PLAYING!!L! Kylars my favorite if u couldn’t tell !!! HERE !!! Have a kylar,,,
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