how do you think kylar would react if pc started wearing a collar with a tag that said something like “if found return to kylar”
actually tbh kylar would probably wanna be the one wearing a collar submissive ass bitch
starts sobbing out of joy immediately. definitely wants to put it on for you. definitely holds the pendant between their fingers for just a little too long because they're in that much awe that you'd wear something like this for them!!
takes a photo of you straight after. makes it their lockscreen photo. uses it as evidence when people don't believe them when they say you're dating them. cries when everyone says it's photoshopped.
would wear a collar for you no questions asked. i feel like they would show other people sometimes, but some part of myself thinks that kylar would want to cherish the collar for their own eyes or something?? but they'd want everyone to know that they're your property - it's a whole paradox of contradictions within kylar's mind, honestly.
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(prt3)
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 4]
She'd been crossing her arms and frowning the entire time they'd been out. Even though it was a simple material run, she looked overly stressed about it, which was probably his fault.
He hadn't wanted to come in the first place. It was best for them to have space, especially because she wasn't the type to let somebody off the hook for dipping in the middle of a conversation. Goredolf though it was strange for her to not pick him to come (since she usually would), so in the end she did. For posterity or something. Which was a good call, if he'd thought of saying so. Being awkward around other people was worse than being awkward around each other, because then everyone wanted to stick their noses in, make things worse-
"Robin."
Shit, that scared the hell outta him! He'd been lost in his own thoughts for a while, hanging behind, as he usually did on these things. In fact, he hadn't expected to be called on at all. Usually the front line had that job, and if all else failed, he'd clean it up. "Yeah?"
Something at her throat bobbed. "You-"
A pause. He waited, too close and too far to decipher it, but she only shook her head and no answer came. Eventually, she said, "Can you bring me my backpack? I have this...awful headache."
He obliged by shrugging it off his shoulders and shaking it around at his side. "Tylenol?"
When she didn't answer, he brought it over anyway, going so far as to shake it to show he was near.
Her lips parted. When her tongue darted out to wet them, she reached for the bottle herself, reluctant to let go when her knuckles brushed his own- but taking it anyway. Eyes cast downward, her thumb rubbed across the label for a while before her eyes closed in thought- and then aloud, she said, "Why didn't you just say 'no'?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he shifted the bag at his side and zipped it up to the top before slinging it over one of his own shoulders.
"Robin." She repeated, and not for the first time did his title feel like a more potent poison than one of his own.
"What?" If it sounded crabby, he didn't mean for it to be. If he sounded tense, he was sorry.
Her eyes flickered to his with an intensity that made him turn his head. The heat smoldered there, between them both, before she blew out a breath like she'd been holding it for centuries.
"...what do you want me to say?" He shrugged with one hand, the free one, not holding the backpack.
Bewilderment. "What do I want you to say?"
"Yeah," he half-shouted, letting the backpack slide to the ground by his feet, "what do you want me to say! Because I can't think of an answer good enough for you."
Stubbornly, leaned towards him, one hand sliding down to her hip. "It's a yes or no question."
"We both know," he said slowly, his voice lowering as he leaned to meet her, "it's not."
A stale silence settled between them, its existence evidence of their stalemate- and then her face fell and she looked away, the plumpness of her lower lip sticking out just a little as she tried to hide her disappointment. "It is to me."
Her hand shot out to swipe her pack from its place at his feet before she turned and stomped to the rendezvous point where the other Servants were waiting. Clearly this argument was over and though neither of them had won, someone had clearly lost.
Robin Hood put both hands on his eyes and swore.
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