#and then shrug off any ownership of your own choice of what to engage with

[edwardseymour]

‘… but at least it gets people into tudor history’

tudor history is a historical/historiographical field… you’re not actually entitled to a popular fandomisation of it.

[joonsdiary]

the proposal

↳ part one of the: (not) the love of my life series

pairing. ceo!seokjin x hotelier!reader (female) genre. arranged marriage au // humour with a dash of fluff and sprinkle of angst (mayhaps future smut?) word count. 4,8k summary. after losing ownership of your hotel to the satan-spawned ceo-to-be, kim seokjin, you are forced by the powers that be (your parents) into marrying him. you agree under the assurance that you won’t be out of job, but with the title of manager instead of owner. as it turns out, he has other plans and approaches you with a proposal that’s hard to refuse.

note. a cliché, overused trope? check. a series with (maybe) no plot and is just about jin as a billionaire ceo? check. this was initially supposed to be a sequel, but i couldn’t follow it up with the same ambience and mood, so i decided to leave the drabble [as a standalone] and write a spin-off instead. this has been in my drafts for the longest time, so i’m excited to share to you a series that literally nobody asked for.

warning-but-not-really. not all corporate ceos are as chilled out as jin will be portrayed here. may give you high expectations of literally some of the worst people on this planet lmao also purely self-indulgent! read at your own risk tbh

the proposal | the first date | the ceo’s keeper | the engagement

The premise was simple.

Get married so you can keep running your hotel business or refuse and lose everything to the man your parents have personally hand-picked to become the owner.

Scratch that.

The man your parents sold your hotel to, thus making him the newly appointed owner.

Choosing the latter and having your freedom would mean giving up your hard-earned company to the lousy billionaire’s first-born son, who happened to own half the hotels in metropolitan Seoul.

The Kims.

Notorious for their enormous amount of wealth, their class, and having three strapping young men for sons who knew nothing else, but privilege handed to them in a silver platter.

Despite growing up in a well-off family, you’ve always taught yourself that independence and hard work was the key to success. You distanced yourself as much as you could from your parents’ money, stuck it out for four years in college, and graduated with a degree. Running the hotel full time while attempting to finish your master’s in business administration part-time had been the theme for the past year. Until your parents dropped the bomb on you.

Words like, do you really think you had full ownership of that run-down hotel of yours and we had to sell, or we’ll go under had been thrown around. As if keeping the secret of having a huge amount of debt would make you feel better about seeing your hotel assimilated into Kim Hotels. Not only would you lose ownership, but you knew that you were bound to get fired, if not demoted. It usually came with the change of proprietor.

Conveniently enough, the Kims had other plans. Their current CEO, Seokjin’s father, agreed to let you keep working as the hotel manager instead of the owner, which is honestly miles better to you than being jobless. But it came with a hefty price: you were to marry their oldest son, Kim Seokjin. They drove a hard bargain, and you found yourself agreeing. You loved the hotel more than anything you’ve ever owned; having to pour your heart and soul into making it worth being proud of. And you were. That’s why hearing your parents say that it was in debt felt gut wrenching.

Initially, you tried to get a hold of him, hoping you could convince him to re-think the situation. You thought perhaps the media had been wrong about him, and all the talks of him being a calculating corporate shark was a lie. Maybe he would let you work as the manager without having to marry him. But the COO of Kim Hotels refused to meet with you, despite hearing from your parents that he’d been “more than willing” to be married to you.

You scoffed at their baseless statement. Seokjin had a reputation for taking women to bed one night before leaving them to dust by the next morning. As if selling his soul to the devil in order to be worth billions of dollars wasn’t enough; of course, he was sleeping around as well. You weren’t one to judge anybody’s lifestyle choices, but you were sure that someone in that calibre wouldn’t agree to be wed to a person they hardly knew just because. There was something in your gut that told you there was more to the agreement than a simple arranged marriage.

Or maybe the feeling in your gut was due to the bad pasta you had.

“Good evening, Ms. Hwang.”

You’re greeted by Mr. Park, the doorman as soon as you enter the lobby, cradling a piping hot tea you hoped would alleviate the stomach cramps you were having. His smile gave away his old age, wrinkles dotting the corner of his eyes and the lines in his cheeks. You returned the gesture.

“How was your dinner?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you laughed softly, shrugging away your coat without spilling your drink. “I’m never eating out ever again. Please tell me Yoongi is in.”

He nodded, gesturing to the entrance not too far from the lobby. You bid him good night and head to the restaurant in the hotel, which was sparse with customers. Friday nights were usually teeming with life and excitement, but unfortunately business had been relatively slow all week. The worry pooled deep in your stomach – as if you needed any more ratification that your hotel needed to be bought, or you’ll close down.

“Yoongi! I need your cure-all soup,” you called out as soon as you sat on the barstool, propping your tote on the table. Jungkook waved at you from the far end of the bar, concocting a drink for the eager gentleman waiting in front of him. Yoongi popped his head out from the kitchen’s double doors to scowl at you but was met with your beaming smile.

He returned several minutes later with your request and you quietly thank him.

“Bad date?” he asked, wiping his palms over his well-worn apron. Jungkook had inched closer by this time, mindlessly wiping the area beside you.

You nodded. “And terrible food. I should’ve just asked him to take me here to Grigio instead.”

Yoongi raised his brows, but a grin was threatening to burst from his lips. “Why didn’t you?”

“He insisted on going to that posh new restaurant that just opened last week. Said it took months to book and he couldn’t just cancel on a whim,” you rolled your eyes, carefully blowing cold air into your steaming soup.

“This is why I told you to stop looking around,” Yoongi leaned into the counter, studying your expression.

“It’s cuffing season,” you joked. “Blame social norms for my behaviour.”

He gave you an impassive stare, before sighing. “You’re literally cuffed already.” He said, followed by a quiet, “I still can’t believe you’re getting married soon.”

You waved your right hand nonchalantly before lifting the spoon to your lips. You moaned as soon as the flavour filled your senses.

“Did you know you’re the best chef ever?”

“It’s just chicken noodle soup,” he said drily.

“Exactly! The simplest meal yet you manage to bring out so many spices at once.” He rolled his eyes at your attempt to boost his ego. Either way it was true; for you, nothing beat Yoongi’s cooking, no matter how simple he thought the meal was.

You forgo the tea and asked Jungkook for a bottle of white wine. “Nothing fancy — Les Capriades is fine. I heard they came in last month, and I have yet to try them.”

He nodded at your instructions before disappearing off to the back to find your drink.

“Stop avoiding the topic, Y/N,” Yoongi rested his chin in the palm of his hand.

“I’m not avoiding anything,” you stated confidently, yet you couldn’t meet his gaze. “The devil incarnate himself refuses to see me. I guess I’ll have to meet him at the altar.”

“Three weeks from now,” Yoongi said, almost exasperated.

“Until then, I’ll enjoy my freedom.”

“What freedom?” Yoongi scoffed, rounding the table to slide into the seat next to you. Jungkook returned with your promised bottle and your eyes beamed with excitement before quietly thanking him. “You didn’t even date around before any of this marriage circus happened.”

You agreed with the “circus” part and ignored the indirect jab. Besides not having a say in any of the planning for your wedding, your supposed fiancé refused to introduce himself when you tried to reach out multiple times.

Okay, perhaps it wasn’t multiple times. You called his office when your parents broke the news to you a week ago, but his assistant said he was busy with a meeting and that you should call back. You didn’t, and that was the end of it. You’ve been putting off trying again, but it’s been a week and he hasn’t contacted you back either.

Maybe it was mutual disdain; if one of you was testing the other to break, you didn’t want the first to be you. It already felt undignified to be marrying someone for the sake of keeping a semblance of ownership to your hotel, so you weren’t about to grovel and demand to be spoken to when it seemed like he wasn’t willing to spare you a second of his time.

Yoongi chatted for a bit before he had to go back to work, so you were left to pull out your laptop from your tote. For the next few hours you immersed yourself into finances, staring at the excel spreadsheet displayed on the screen far longer than was medically allowed. Surely, you’ll go blind before you see your hotel overcome the negative deficit you were in.

“See you tomorrow, Ms. Hwang,” Jungkook thrummed his fingers on the table as he passed by. You looked up in time to see him mime something unintelligible. Your brows raised in confusion.

“Your glasses,” he laughed quietly, fingers hovering close to your cheek. You mumbled a quiet oh, before pushing the rim higher until it settled snugly against your nose bridge.

“Thanks.” You sighed, tipping your head to one side. After feeling the satisfying pop! you turned back to Jungkook with a grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You slumped back to your work as soon as Jungkook was out of sight. Glancing at the clock on the corner of your laptop, it blinked 00:37, which automatically caused you to yawn. Yoongi should be out soon, so you willed yourself to stand up and prop the close sign by the entrance.

From where you stood, you could see the lobby clearly, as well as the spinning doors of the hotel entrance. A few patrons trickled in, no doubt coming in from their busy day, and filed sluggishly to the elevators where it would take them up their floors.

That was the most fulfilling part of being a hotelier to you. The satisfaction of giving people a comfortable stay, whether they were mere tourists or locals wanting a getaway from their normal life. It certainly isn’t as posh and sleek as the Kim Hotel with their towering glass buildings and boring black, white, and grey colour palettes. But what you had was something you were proud to consider your home, with the vibrant earth tones of the walls and furniture, as well as the rich velvet tapestry draped along the ornate windows. High ceiling chandeliers peppered the lobby, casting an ambience of warmth and security without lacking luxury.

“‘Night, Y/N.” Yoongi clasped your shoulder, startling you out of your mini daydream. “Stop using my restaurant as your office, will you?”

You mustered a small grin. “Bye, Yoongles. Drive safe.”

Yoongi turned to you as his face contorted violently. “I hate that nickname.”

“Love you too!” You called out as he exited through the revolving door before placing your hand down with a sigh. Back to work. You were about to turn and go back to your forgotten laptop when the door welcomed in another guest.

With bated breath you watched the man stalk towards you, eyeing you dangerously as if you were his prey. His midnight black suit made him look slim but highlighted his broad shoulders all the same. You were arrested at the spot, unable to look away and felt as if you’ve been robbed of oxygen. The more he stepped closer, the more unclear your thoughts became.

It’s not as if you hadn’t seen the man. He often appeared on several business magazines — gossip tabloids more so. Yet there was something different about seeing him in person, in front of you, in your hotel.

No. His hotel.

“Ms. Hwang. I was hoping to find you here.”

You blinked up at him, not trusting your voice to form words under such immense pressure. His usually slicked back ebony hair is more mussed; a day’s worth of stress was evident in his restless feature.

When you didn’t reply, he took it upon himself to study you from head to toe, and your body went rigid. Your long, honey-coloured hair had been tied up in a lazy bun and glasses framed your face. You didn’t bother changing out of your mini black dress from your date earlier, whose thin straps clung onto your shoulders for dear life.

You squirmed uncomfortably, finding a small ounce of strength to wrap your hands protectively around yourself. “What are you doing here, Mr. Kim?”

“Please,” he rolled his eyes, supple lips bending upwards for a grin. “Call me Seokjin. Mr. Kim is my father.”

And with that, he welcomed himself in the threshold of your restaurant.

Technically, it’s his restaurant now, too.

You let your anger simmer for a bit before turning to follow him.

“You didn’t answer my question,” you declared. It was hard to keep your annoyance down when he had showed up unannounced after ignoring your existence for a whole week.

He slid next to the seat you had claimed yours, and you almost tripped in your heels as you followed, immediately snapping your laptop shut. There was no new information he could have garnered from looking at the finances of the hotel, as he’s probably aware of them. But the thought of him snooping around made you feel queasy.

“I wanted to see what had my father so enamoured that he’d actually buy this…” he trailed off, waving his hand dismissively, “…hotel?”

You hated the underlying judgement in his tone of voice. You had also heard rumours that he’s unabashedly forward and hard to deal with, on top of all the other rumours that plagued him. So far, all the boxes in the checklist were proving to be true.

“It’s quaint. Not at all what I expected.” His gaze studied you momentarily, and you can tell he wanted to say more but he smartly held himself back. Good. You don’t know what you would do if he strung one criticism after another.

“Well, you’ve seen it. You can kindly screw off now.”

Seokjin seemed taken aback for a second, but his surprise didn’t linger. He leaned back on the stool and swiveled forward before pointing at the shelves lined with alcohol.

“I’ll have a whiskey, neat.”

In an attempt to ignore his ridiculous demand, you powered up your laptop once more. No way in hell would you let him step all over you, not even when he owned the hotel where you now stood. “You have very capable legs and arms. I’m sure you can whip one up yourself.”

Was this man joking? Granted, you know your way behind the bar since you had the privilege to work as a bartender for a few years during your college tenure. But that doesn’t mean he’s welcomed here to treat you as if you were a subservient of his. Which, semantics aside, you were, though that’s beside the point. But if he made an effort to come down here and order you around like a scullery maid in an attempt to intimidate you or put you in your place, then he was barking up the wrong tree.

“I was told you have terrific hospitality. I guess they were mistaken.”

Not for the likes of you, I don’t. You rolled your eyes, not bothering with an actual reply.

Seokjin maneuvered off his suit jacket and unbuttoned his cufflinks before he rolled his sleeves up meticulously. He then rounded the bar and began grabbing materials with familiarity, not stopping to ask where anything was located. You watched in awe from the corner of your eyes, attempting to be discreet.

“Want one?” he gave you a slanted gaze.

You wrinkled your nose in disagreement and raised your wine glass.

“A refill, then?”

Pressing your lips firmly together, you gave him a defiant headshake.

The mild shock of seeing him traipsing behind the bar had rendered you absolutely mute. The fact that he knew where everything was piqued your interest. Was it an outcome of years of experience as a habitual drinker? Or did he often just randomly raid bars, hence his extensive knowledge of their layout? You didn’t want to know, but at the same time you did.

It took him a while to find a coaster before settling back to the spot beside you. Typing away at your laptop, you refused to give him even an ounce of attention despite his attention solely being yours. The silence that ensued was more uncomfortable than anything you’ve experienced.

Suddenly, you were all too aware of your crooked posture and your body snapped, straightening your shoulders rigidly. It felt stupid, but necessary for the sake of your sanity to keep your façade. Although it crumbled ever so slightly when Seokjin laughed beside you.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel tense,” his voice was languid and inviting.

You steeled yourself, refusing to be lulled into a trance by his intoxicating presence. “What did you really come here for, Kim Seokjin?”

“She speaks!” he exclaimed, clearly amused. You turned to give him an impassive stare. “Do I need a reason to visit my fiancée?”

His statement caught you by surprise, your poor heart bearing the brunt of suddenly having to pump more oxygen than usual. It brought warmth to your cheeks and you allowed yourself to fall into the fantasy of marrying the most eligible bachelor in all of Seoul. The fantasy, however, was short-lived as his wink broke the spell you were under.

“Don’t worry, this will be strictly business,” his back straightened up on cue. You tried and subsequently failed not to watch the way his deft fingers moved to loosen up his necktie. He then slightly deflated with a sigh, before grabbing his drink and taking a sip.

For courage, perhaps? It brought a small amount of accomplishment to know that you might have The Kim Seokjin nervous before you.

“It’s about the wedding, which you know is coming up soon.”

This was it. The topic you’ve been narrowly avoiding for the past week suddenly poured on you all at once like a bucket of ice-cold water. It wasn’t the most refreshing way of waking you up to reality, but it got the job done.

“I hope you aren’t getting cold feet now, Kim,” he grins at your attempt at humour.

“I apologize for not getting back to you sooner, by the way. My secretary said you tried to get a hold of me.” You remembered the woman’s monotone voice on the other end of the phone call. Part of the reason why you were reluctant to call back was due to nervousness from hearing her apathetic voice.

You shrugged in response, finding him less of an asshole than you had previously. Was your expectation of decency so low that you found anything remotely human he did to be an act of chivalry on his part?

Yes. Yes, it was.

“I tried calling because I wanted to know if I would be able to talk you out of this deal.”

Seokjin was visibly surprised by your candor.

“Oh yeah, and how would that have played out?”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Surely, it was too late to take anything back, so you tossed all caution out of the window. He might as well hear your piece.

“The ceremony preferably cancelled. The Hwang Hotel back to its rightful owner, as if the whole thing hadn’t occurred in the first place.”

Seokjin regarded you with amusement in his eyes. The warm lights of the Grigio soften his rugged features, making it seem like he was glowing. You came to understand how he had the whole country enamoured by him. He was distressingly handsome.

You gagged at where your thoughts ended up and leaned back a little, terrified of feeling too intimate with the man who had claimed your hard-earned success for himself. The hotel means more to you in ways you know Seokjin will never be able to relate. A man who, with a little twirl of his fingers, would be making more money than you could ever hope to imagine. They say no hard work goes unpaid, but for him it was probably akin to: No hard work, but I get paid either way. How comfortable must it be to sit atop that domineering tower of his, overlooking the city he practically owns?

“And what do I get out of that possible scenario?” he began after a brief pause.

You refused to wilt under his imposing gaze. With a confident voice, you said, “The satisfaction of doing a noble deed.”

He barked out a laugh, tilting his head back in obvious enjoyment. You didn’t share the sentiment as you sighed before removing your prescription glasses. Perhaps hoping for the impossible was futile, after all.

“Look, I don’t care about this little passion project of yours,” Seokjin waved his hands around condescendingly, and you felt a familiar pang of anger surging from your chest. “And you’re lucky my father swooped in to purchase this hotel before you went bankrupt.”

“Thank you for the constant reminder,” you deadpanned, but he ignored you and continued. The gall of the man to show up and ridicule you made you irate. I take that back, he’s still an asshole in every aspect imaginable.

“To be frank, I think we’re both in a pinch here. You want your hotel back, and I’m willing to grant you that tiny little wish.”

You perked up; interest piqued. But you felt an ultimatum coming, so you squashed all hope arising from his statement. There was always a catch.

“My parents have been grooming me to become CEO ever since I learned how to walk. For me, acquiring the position is a no-brainer.”

“But?” you offered, and his grin widened.

“But lately my father refuses to hand me the reins. He’s been wanting to retire, but every year he keeps sticking it out. Then I unceremoniously learned my engagement with you. All of a sudden, his mood shifted, and his plans for retirement began piling up.”

Your brows creased in confusion, unable to see how you fit into all of this.

“My reputation precedes me, so I’m sure you’re aware of what I’m insinuating here.”

Something clicks in your mind, and you willed yourself to hold back a scoff.

“Enlighten me, Kim,” you propped your chin against your palm. If you were going to agree to this, you might as well have a little fun for yourself.

“My parents aren’t amused by my…” Seokjin trailed off.

“Decision to debauch half the women’s population of Seoul?” you offered, unable to hold yourself back. You grinned triumphantly; he had set himself up for that moral beating.

“I was going to say my inability to settle down, but sure, we’ll go with that,” Seokjin was unfazed, much to your disappointment. “He hadn’t explicitly said it but seeing the way everything is being handled so quickly, I can tell it’s what he wants. For me to get married; then maybe he’ll consider giving me the position.”

“And you didn’t oppose?” you asked incredulously. It seemed at the moment you were the one who is prepped to lose the most. What if it wasn’t you who the Kims chose for their son? Were you supposed to just accept defeat and give up your hotel?

“Oh, trust me, I vehemently opposed,” you nodded at his statement. At least you agreed on something. That was a start. “But that’s partly the reason why I’m here.”

“What more can we possibly do? We’re basically left with no option,” you grumbled, turning back to your laptop. For you, there was no way around this. Both your families have decided for you, so you have to either fall in line or risk losing your business.

“What if I tell you we can go back to our normal lives a few months from now? We won’t be married to each other. You’ll have your hotel back, and I’ll still be the CEO.”

You inadvertently leaned towards him, eager to know where the conversation was going.

“We just have to convince my parents and yours, as well as the board of directors of Kim Hotels and the public alike how we’re hopelessly in love with each other.”

Your mouth formed into a visible scowl, forehead creasing in confusion. You searched for hints of frivolity, waiting for him to say just kidding! at any moment. But his stoic face told you that he was being serious.

“And we’re doing this because…?” your patience had worn thin, expression marred by weariness and fatigue. You had a lot to get back to; you didn’t have time for silly games.

“It will make the divorce more believable.”

You paused, the gears in your brain turning. The agreement your parents told you about hadn’t involved a divorce; so, you were curious as to where Seokjin was going with his idea.

He was offering you an out; a way to get out of his family’s mess unscathed. You’ll have your only prized possession, and he can go back to sleeping with as many people as he wanted while retaining his coveted position. The proposition was too good to be true.

“What’s the catch?” your lips pursed, and you found yourself considering his ludicrous proposal.

“No catch,” he holds his two hands up in surrender, the corner of his mouth forming a smirk. You eyed him with suspicion.

“Just that you give effort into this whole thing. Make my father and the board believe enough to think I’ve ‘cleaned up my act’,” he paused to roll his eyes, “so that they’ll hand me the position without question. I promise you full ownership of the Hwang Hotel, without debt, as soon as we separate.”

While your parents’ original plan had been to marry you off entirely (which you did not want at all) Seokjin was sensible enough to figure out that you had no desires of tying the knot to someone you barely knew. He probably shared the sentiment, hence his proposal.

“This doesn’t make sense though,” you said pointedly. “Wouldn’t they find out about your motives when we divorce? And our parents technically arranged this, so they’ll be mad — I’m sure yours will be more than mine.”

You’re all in for finding a loophole in this whole arrangement, but you’re not sure you’ll agree if it will give you more problems in the long run.

He shrugged, unconcerned. “They can question it all they want. But like I said, if we make it believable enough, we can always reason that we ‘fell out of love’.”

In an attempt to alleviate a developing headache, your hands slowly massaged your temples. The information was a lot to hand, but no matter how many scenarios you played in your head, they all seemed to have the finale you wanted. Regardless of what happened within the upcoming months, you were going to get your hotel back.

“If you’re really that worried, let’s just say I cheated,” Seokjin’s words snapped you out of your muddled thoughts.

Your eyebrows creased in confusion. “Wouldn’t that be worse for you?”

“The public already thinks I’m a man-whore,” he said wryly. “The board is not going to kick me out of office for something tedious like a divorce once I’m CEO. And I’m sure I can reason it out with my parents when the time comes.”

You laced your fingers together, hoping to wring the concerns away. There was no use in overthinking the situation; it certainly beats staying miserably married to someone you barely know.

You let out a shaky breath, before mustering the confidence to say, “Fine.”

“Great, I knew you’d be reasonable.” He flicked his wrist to look at his watch, gaze composed despite the tiredness in his eyes. “I’ll have my secretary e-mail you a written agreement.”

“Great,” you mimicked his deadpan tone. Gone was the casual Seokjin who paced around behind the bar with much familiarity. This was the COO of Kim Hotels Seokjin; precise and straight to the point.

Better get used to that.

“Thanks for the drink, future wife,” he slid off the barstool with poise, the distance between you and him closing ever so slightly. He smelled like pine and cedar, with a hint of citrus; it was enough for you to suddenly sober up, unaware you were inebriated, to begin with.

“No need. You forced your way in, anyway.” You said dismissively, pretending to switch tabs on your screen. Where was that random website you were looking at earlier?

With a quiet laugh, he turned to leave. You listened to his rhythmic steps and perked up when he paused.

“See you tomorrow, fiancée,” he said without turning.

“Tomorrow?” you tried not to give away the surprise in your voice.

“We have to start going on dates to convince them that we’re serious about this, right? Pick you up at eight, sharp.”

With a wave of his right hand, he stalked off towards the exit, leaving you alone in the restaurant.

Suddenly, the premise didn’t appear so simple. You reached for your glass of wine and finished the rest of your courage drink in one gulp.

NEXT ; 

thanks for reading! feedback is always appreciated ;u;

[yodawgiherd]

Collared

Rating: E

>>>Read on AO3<<<

After a lengthy discussion with me, myself and I, the council have decided to cut this chapter into two parts, one covering the foreplay and the other doing the dirty. This was done mostly to prevent the chapter from being too long and also other reasons. This is the foreplay one. I believe that there is still more than enough dom!Mikasa to be found here, but explicitly explicit happenings will be done in the next chapter. The last part was strongly inspired by the "step on me" meme. I blame certain people.

Enjoy!

For Eren to wake up alone on a Saturday morning felt weird, eyes slowly opening to the sunlight. Mikasa wasn’t an early bird if she got the choice, so for her to just leave the warm bed on her own was unusual. With a groan, he rolled off himself, standing up in dire need of some coffee. Down the stairs to the machine, Eren pressed the right button and turned around with the sigh, facing the place where he knew his fiancé would be.

On the pole, doing a nearly flawless flag pose, her body in a perfect 90-degree angle to the pole itself. He sighed, again, rubbing his forehead. This really shouldn’t be physically possible. Mikasa had a look of concentration on her face, which was sweaty, a clue suggesting that she’s been going at it for some time by now. As she was also wearing her sleeping clothes, which meant formerly Eren’s shirt and panties, she probably went to the pole first thing in the morning. Why yes, his girlfriend was indeed quite a gym enthusiast, how could you tell?

The machine beeped behind Eren, signaling that his drink was ready, and also unintentionally breaking Mikasa out of her focus. Snapping into reality, she quickly located her boyfriend, the concentration melting into a huge grin. Sliding down the pole, she padded over to him on her bare feet, standing on her tippy toes so she could kiss him without Eren bowing down to her height. The kiss was a bit salty, considering the sweat and all, but overall pleasurable as always.

“Oh, you made me a coffee?”, brushing past him before he could say it was in fact supposed to be his drink, Mikasa claimed the cup, taking a sip, “You’re so considerate baby.”

Not only a fry thief but a coffee taker as well. Why was he dating her again? Making himself another one, he leaned on the counter, popping the morning stiffness from his neck.

“You know what day it is, right?”, came her voice.

“Saturday?”, he guessed, not opening his eyes.

“That’s right. Which means…”

“Means that I’m yours to command.”, opening his eyes, he smirked at her, “Anything you wish of me, mistress? You already stole my coffee so I’m not sure what else I could give.”

“Good to see that you’re so eager puppy, but I’m fine. For now.”, the tip of her tongue appeared, licking her bottom lip as she watched him over the rip of the cup, “I do have plans tho, big plans…”

“Such as?”

“First, we take a bath, then we go to the city.”

That made him arch an eyebrow.

“You wanna go out?”

“Correct.”

Knowing that today was Mikasa’s dom day, Eren wasn’t sure why would she ever want to leave the house, but he didn’t need to question it. She was in charge, which meant that all he had to do was follow orders and turn his brain off, and he was more than fine with doing that. Shrugging, he took another sip of his coffee, waiting for the inevitable to happen.

In the bath, Mikasa washed away the sweat from the workout, and after that spent a long time thoroughly cleaning Eren. She made him stand still as a statue while she shaved every hair from his body, including those few that managed to appear between his legs. Mikasa even took the cage off for the treatment, leaving only the cockring on, very thorough in her efforts. The razor whispered as it slid over Eren’s skin making him shiver a little. Her hand was steady, but those little looks she threw his way made Eren worry, just a little bit. She wouldn’t hurt him. Would she? No, of course not. Unless?

She didn’t.

After that, Mikasa washed Eren’s hair, humming a happy melody to herself. It felt good, being cared for like this, but Eren had the feeling as if he was a prize stallion, being groomed by his owner to be shown off. From how much attention she paid to his crotch area, both front and back, Mikasa was likely simply shining her toys before the evening would come.

“It’s been some time since I played with your ass, isn’t it?”, she said, hand rubbing the upper part of Eren’s thigh. Not really waiting for an answer, she went on.

“It’s a very nice ass, don’t get me wrong, I quite like it.”

She was the one to talk, with how flawless her butt was, but Eren had no problems accepting a compliment.

“Thank you, mistress.”

“Hmmm…”, done, Mikasa gave his ass a light smack, standing up from the water.

“Wait here,”, she said, “I have a gift for you.”

Remaining where he was, Eren simply watched her climb out of the tub. It gave him a prime view of her own ass, with the water running down the pretty shape, so he wouldn’t say that he minded too much. Retrieving something small from one of the drawers, Mikasa walked back, slipping back into the tub.

“Here,”, she said, holding it up “Like it?”

It was a ring. Big ring. Too big to fit on his finger. Which meant…

Of course.

“Hold it for a moment,”, Mikasa didn’t really care about his opinion, it looked like, as she handed him the ring and kneeled before him, hands going right between Eren’s legs. While she worked on removing the old ring, still in place, he took a moment to inspect the new one, looking for differences. The most striking was the color, as this new one was gold, not silver. Next, there was something on the surface, which upon closer inspection became an etching, words to be exact.

“Mikasa’s Pet,” it said.

Right.

“It’s great, isn’t it?”, taking the ring from his hand, Mikasa quickly put it in place, her movements already practiced by how many times she used such devices on Eren, “Now everyone will know that your cock is mine.”

“I…Uh... I don’t really take off my pants in public.”, Eren countered, feeling the familiar tightness return after being freed from it for a few seconds.

“It doesn’t matter,”, she went on, “It’s the thought that counts.”

Reaching down to retrieve the cage, she snapped it on top, once again returning her puppy to chastity.

“And I made sure that it's compatible with the cage. I’m so generous.”

“Incredibly so…”

“Look,”, Mikasa extended her hand, showing him her engagement ring, “Now we match!”

Her ring was a simple golden circle, Eren knew that she didn’t like stones that much and acted accordingly when he was picking it out for her. It didn’t have any ownership claim engraved on it either, as that thing between his legs did, but other than that, it looked similar. Now anyone could see that he was owned by his fiancé, how romantic.

“I have one more gift for my puppy, come on.”

With that, she left the bathroom, leaving Eren to stare after her. If her first gift was a new cockring, what in seven hells would the other one be? Carefully climbing out of the water too, mindful of the cage, he followed her, ideas spinning.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Yes, yes you will.”

“Mikasa I…”

“Puppy…”, her voice was low, sexy and threatening at the same time, “Your opinion does not really matter today, right?”

Sexy because Mikasa wearing nothing but lacy black lingerie was a damn sight to behold, dangerous because the way she looked at him made Eren shiver. Even in a strapless bra and panties that made Eren drool a little bit, Mikasa managed to look like a full-time dominatrix. It was written in her face, her posture, the confidence in which she held the collar. With an expression that didn’t allow any discussion anymore, she held up the second gift in her hand.

“You will put this on your neck, you will wear it when we go out, and after we get home..”, her lips curved upwards into a sadistic smile, “I’ll punish you for talking back.”

Not that long ago, Eren had that great idea to make a personal collar for Mikasa, have it fitted specifically for her neck and have her name put on it in huge silver letters. The second gift turned out to be nothing but a very similar collar, the only difference being that it was made for him. And it was a good gift, Eren liked it, but the problem was Mikasa’s request that went right along with the gift. She wanted him to put it on, now and wear it when they go out, have it on in public. Having written that he’s Mikasa’s pet around his cock was fine, none could normally see that, but having it around his neck in the form of a dog collar, with his mistress right next to him was a step Eren wasn’t sure he was willing to take. But from how things looked, it would come down to what Mikasa wanted, not him. As usual.

“You should be glad that I’m not making you get a tattoo of my name,”, she continued, voice dripping poison, “Now, stop resisting and…”

Mikasa held up the collar in one hand, pointing at the ground with the other.

“On. Your. Knees.”

Eren’s legs buckled beneath him before he could consciously react, and suddenly he was staring upwards to see Mikasa’s face. Oh, she liked that, seeing how her smile turned from dangerous to genuinely happy one, she liked seeing him submit to her. She took a step forward, putting the collar around Eren’s neck. It was a perfect fit, of course. Once he was collared, Mikasa ran a single finger up and down the side of Eren’s face, smirking.

“You don’t have to worry, puppy, I have it all thought out. But first…”, turning around, she walked to the wardrobe, throwing the doors open, “I’ll pick some nice clothes for you. Be a good boy and sit on the bed, yes?”

Defeated, betrayed by his own body, Eren slumped down as ordered, waiting how his mistress will humiliate him further. Which… didn’t happen? Mikasa didn’t pick anything weird for him, to match that collar, instead, he was given a normal dark suit, she even allowed him to wear a tie to partly cover the leather hugging his neck. Dressing quickly, before she changes her mind, Eren was soon left with nothing to do but wait, so leaning back on the bed, he engaged in one of his favorite activities. Watching Mikasa dress. If he was asked, he’d probably say that he liked watching her undress more, but even this had a certain ring of intimacy to it. Enjoyable.

On her part, Mikasa wasn’t rushing anywhere. While Eren managed to put on all his stuff, Mikasa just fastened a garter belt around her hips and was now pulling up her fishnet stockings. She knew that he was watching, moving slowly, giving Eren a little show. It wasn’t really a secret that he had a thing for Mikasa’s legs, and the goth was apparently feeling generous. Dragging the material over her leg, Mikasa took her time with hooking the top to the garter belt, winking at Eren over her shoulder. With her stockings on, she turned towards the mirror, readying her makeup. The sheer amount of eyeliner she decided to put on gave Eren a little pause, It was more than usual, but he wouldn’t protest. The dark shades she created nicely highlighted the exotic shape of Mikasa’s eyes. Moving on, she painted her lips black to match. As Eren could see through the fishnets, her toenails were already black, and now she painted the nails on her fingers too, completing the usual makeup routine.

It would be fair to say that Mikasa was never big on make-up, most of the time she didn’t wear any, because why would you ever bother with painting yourself before a workout, are you nuts? But when she did put it on she had a very good hand, most likely gained from watching the professional makeup artists work on her during the photoshoots at the studio. When Mikasa put in the time to brush up her makeup skills, it signified something, a night out, a dinner, a special occasion where she wanted to look her best at, and today certainly fit those requirements, having her puppy to play with without any restrictions was a treat. Eren saw her go through the same movements for what felt like a hundred times but still wouldn’t get bored of it. There was something hypnotizing about the way Mikasa did her short beauty treatment.

Makeup done, black lacy lingerie on, stockings fastened to the garter belt, she stood up, moving over to the wardrobe again, this time in search of her own clothes. Hands moving through her collection, which grew substantially since she started working as a model, Mikasa had a certain dress in mind for her plan. There it was. Black, obviously, tight around her body with a see-through section at the neck, at the sleeves, and seamlessly changing into a nicely flowing skirt at the bottom, ending in the upper part of her thighs. Putting it on herself, Mikasa was nicely surprised when Eren zipped it up for her without the need to order him, his good boyfriend instincts taking over.

“Good boy.”, a little praise falling from her lips, making him smile.

Dress in place, Mikasa moved on the jewelry. Rings, one for each finger, choosing from the big collection that she had nowadays, most of them gifts from her fiancé. Classic cross earrings and a leather choker that was nearly as thick as the collar around Eren’s throat. Necklaces, not missing the chain with the key to Eren’s chastity cage and the silver crucifix Levi gave her, all those years back. Probably her favorite jewelry alongside the earrings. Basically done, all she was missing were her boots, and when Eren watched her pick those massive leather ones with thick soles and many buckles that went all the way to Mikasa’s knees, her strategy finally clicked for him. In this outfit, Mikasa was the archetype of goth gf, as if she literally just stepped out of someone’s wild dream. That normally wouldn’t be that unusual, as she was stubbornly loyal to being goth all the way from high school to this day, not caring in the slightest that the style moved from being cool to being just kinda weird. She liked it, and that’s what mattered. But while Mikasa enjoyed dressing like this, she usually toned it down, because she simply didn’t want to draw attention. Not tonight, however, tonight she was going all out. With this beautiful and strange visage next to him, who would ever pay attention to Eren? Who would ever notice little thing like a collar around his neck when Mikasa was shining like a dark sun, drawing everyone’s eyes to herself?

“Well, puppy,”, she began, standing up from the chair and turning towards her smitten fiancé, “Ready to go?”

Seeing Mikasa bring out the goth inside her like this, full-on out, how comfortable and smug she was in this handpicked outfit of hers, Eren had one of those snap moments where he just looked at her and thought: ok but what the hell. He wasn’t stupid, Eren knew that she’s pretty but damn, how can a woman be this perfect. God, Mikasa was beautiful, and Eren would have no problem with staring at her for over five hours.

Standing up to match her, Eren noticed that while the massive boots gave her height a little boost, she was still shorter than him. When Mikasa wore those killer heels of hers, their eyes were roughly at the same level, but not now, the gothic queen was smaller than her devoted servant. Reaching out, he took her hand into his, intertwining their fingers.

“You know,” he said, looking her up and down, taking in the whole getup, “You kind of look like a superhero in this.”

“I do?”

“Yea, like… hmm… the super gothic… dark princess of….hmm.. darkness?”

“Dark princess of darkness? Wow, how expressive.”

“Your attempts at mockery are not needed, vampiress.”

That made her smile, black lips curving up.

“Well, if you are a good boy today, and I might suck something else than blood.”, she gave him a wink, taking a few steps towards the exit and tugging him right along with her.

“Come on, baby,” she said.

“Let’s go save the world.”

Mikasa’s plan worked, that was for sure. While they drew looks, as a pair, it was only Mikasa who the attention was centered at. With miss goth 2020 on his arm, no one paid Eren much attention, especially when his clothes were simply a suit, nothing as interesting as her dress-up. The only one who knew about the collar was the woman who put it there. And no one would know. Eren was just a smudge of black suit next to the dark goddess next to him, radiating beauty and confidence with each step. He really was not much more than a servant, being taken by his mistress out of a nice walk. Eren heard them, heard the few whispers that praised Mikasa, heard the people saying how beautiful she is, and he couldn’t agree more. And the fact that this divine being was holding his hand, her attention almost solely focused on him made Eren feel all warm and happy inside.  Mikasa was a supermodel, she could wear anything she wanted and pull it off perfectly. And the world just stared. It’s called fashion sweetie, look it up.

Overall, this day out was an otherworldly experience. Mikasa was in the lead, completely, Eren simply followed her like a dog on a leash. First, they just walked around the city for a spell. After that, she took him to a cinema, but not for the movie. Sure, they bought tickets for something, Eren couldn’t even remember what, enchanted as he was. Sitting next to her, Mikasa kept the contact between them light, just the tips of her fingers tapping away at his skin, and Eren was touch starved before he realized it. Not for long.

As soon as the lights went down Mikasa confidently climbed into his lap and angling his head up, she claimed his mouth. Whatever the movie was it must have not been very good, as they were alone in the room, fact that Eren was grateful for, considering that he spent most of it by having his mouth ravaged. Mikasa kissed him, bit into his neck, did anything she wanted to her pet while all Eren could do was groan, head swimming from her intensity. Of course, the cage turned from dismissible thing into a small inferno, his body attempting to react as it normally did to being kissed by his goth gf. And couldn’t, his attempts at erecting cut short by the metal bars of the chastity. Her weight on his lap, her tongue tracing his teeth, Eren moaned into her mouth, in paradise and hell at the same time. Mikasa was wearing a dress, which meant that the only barrier between his caged pride and her heat was Eren’s jeans and her lacy panties, the way she slid against his crotch made him go close to losing it. And she knew perfectly what she was doing, of course, stirring her hips a little, mimicking those movements she did while riding him, driving her puppy insane. A film never felt this long in Eren’s life before.

After the “movie” they both had to visit the bathroom, Mikasa to reapply her lipstick, as she left most of it littered over Eren’s face and neck, and him to wipe away the said stains. Despite his best efforts, some residue remained, dark spots littering most of the skin above the leather collar. Holding the sink, Eren stared at himself, at the ravaged face that looked back at him from the mirror. Mikasa was doing things to him, things that were beyond his power to explain, she was wrapping him in her spells. The black smudges on his face and neck, the collar, still visible even beneath his tie, the cage, tight between his legs, those were all little stamps of her ownership and Eren couldn’t help but wonder on the long way she came. From an insecure blushing, silent, weird goth girl at school to this. A smug and beautiful goth dominatrix who had no problems with using her pretty boy in any place and any way that she saw fit. And from the way his eyes were unfocused, how red his face was, Eren knew that he was loving it, loving when Mikasa displayed her confidence and beauty like this. She was sexy, she was hot, and she knew it, wearing it out in the open without a care in the world. Eren was glad that he was partly the reason why she could do this, he and others have together chipped away at Mikasa’s made-up insecurities, bringing out the inner goddess. It was high time that his fiancé realized that she is indeed a queen. Eren was just lucky that he was allowed to accompany her.

The next stop of Mikasa’s grand tour was a small restaurant, saying that she’s hungry. And nothing even happened, for a long time, she just played with the key around her neck a lot, obviously teasing her puppy. When the dessert came, she turned up the heat.

“Spread your legs.”, she ordered out of nowhere.

“W-What?”

“Spread your legs.”, Mikasa repeated, eyes completely serious, “Now.”

Choice was an illusion, he couldn’t say no to her. Obeying, Eren soon discovered why she wanted this. Under the table, hidden from view, Mikasa lifted her leg and pressed her heavy boot against Eren’s crotch, putting some weight behind it. Shaking it a bit, literally rattling his cage, she smiled oh so sweetly at him at the same time, her black lips curved upwards.

“Are you okay, baby?”, she said out loud, faking the concern in her voice perfectly, “Your face is all red.”

How was it supposed to be not red, when she went on with her little torment underneath the table, the thick sole of her boot perfect for the teasing.

“I’m…I’m okay.”, Eren squeezed out, managing a smile, “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?”, the intentionally dragged out the word, increasing the pressure.

Eren’s fingertips dug into the table for the sides, his legs shaking. It would be a logical course of action to close them, to force the pressure away from his crotch, but his mistress ordered him to keep them open. And her word was more important than self-preservation, it looked like. She went on, moving her leg a bit, increasing and decreasing the strength of the push, while all the time keeping eye contact with her pet. You’re mine, her dark eyes said, you let me do this to you because you know that I own you.

“I’m fine, fine…”, breathing was difficult, as anytime Eren drew breath the collar made its presence known, tight around his throat.

And he was basically panting at this point, as Mikasa went on with her fun, toying with his helplessly restricted cock using the toe of her boot.

“Thank you for your concern,”, eyes meeting hers, he forced himself to smile back, “Mistress.”

“That’s good, very good, because when we get home…”, Mikasa leaned over the table, her lips brushing Eren’s ear when she whispered, “I’ll make sure that you won’t be okay or fine anymore.”

As quickly as it appeared, her boot was gone from his crotch, and Mikasa stood up, a radiant smile on her face.

“Let’s go, we have a long night ahead of us.”

This whole day, everything Mikasa did, Eren didn’t even realize that she was slowly but surely enchanting him. All the little touches, the teasing, the smiles, she was weaving an expert web around her puppy, drawing him into it. The audacity of the things she did to him, how nonchalantly she ignored any chance of them being found out, it shocked Eren and turned him on at the same time, exactly as Mikasa planned. The goth witch had him under her spell completely by the time they reached their house. Eren belonged to her in body, mind, and spirit too, broken and ready to be ordered around. Mikasa wanted an obedient pet tonight, not a bratty one, and molded her puppy just the way she wanted to. They surely didn’t save the world today, but Mikasa positively wrecked Eren’s. Now, he was ready to serve her.

“Maybe next time we do this, I’ll put a leash on you too.”, she was saying as they entered, “What do you say, Eren, would you like me parading you around on a leash? Maybe on all fours too, like a good dog.”

“Anything for you, ma’am.”, came from behind her in an unfocused voice, as Eren was too busy staring at her legs and ass as she walked in front of him, hips swaying, hypnotizing.

While Eren removed his shoes and jacket, as they usually did before entering the living room, he noted that Mikasa didn’t take off anything, keeping even the massive leather boots on. She’s most likely going to order him to take them off for her, not wanting to bother herself with all those buckles, he deduced, following his queen. Walking into the living room, Mikasa sat down, graciously, on the sofa, eyeing her prey. There was plenty of room to sit next to her, the furniture was massive, but Eren knew what she wanted him to do, and sitting wasn’t it. Coming to stand next to the goth, he sank down to his knees, keeping his back straight as he looked at his mistress with a glint of adoration in his eyes. Judging from her smile, he passed the test.

“You’re a good boy tonight.”, she said, appreciative.

“Thank you, mistress.”

“But I’m damn tired,” she drawled, stretching her body, all that walking….

From the corner of her eye, Mikasa could see how hungrily Eren eyed her legs, giving her an idea.

“What do you say, pet, do you want to make me feel better?”

He nodded, rapidly.

“Perfect. But before you can serve me, I need to see you better.”, she gestured with one finger, “Take off your shirt and tie, I wanna see those pecs.”

But when Eren moved to obey, she held up a hand.

“And do it slowly, I want a show.”

Button by button then, Eren undid his shirt, letting it hang open. Mikasa almost immediately took advantage, reaching out to place her hand over his chest, tracing the muscles there with a light touch. Oh yes, this felt good.

“I like it when my slaves are in good physical condition,”, she mused, “Then they can serve me for a longer time. And you do have some nice shapes here.”

The edges of her rings scratched along his heated skin when Mikasa dragged her knuckles over the exposed patch of it before reluctantly pulling her hand back.

“Continue.”, she ordered.

Completely under her spell, Eren moved automatically, shrugging off his shirt and folding it neatly next to him. The tie came next, unwrapping the knot and pulling it from his neck, fully exposing the collar that was there. The large letters caught the light, nicely shimmering, spelling out her victim’s name. Now naked from the waist up, save for the leather collar, Eren once again resumed his kneeling position. Back straight, hands behind his back, one holding at the wrist of the other, eyes only for his mistress, waiting for her to order him, to tell him what to do. On her part, Mikasa was in no rush, reaching out to run her fingers up and down his firm stomach, over those nice abs and between his legs, feeling up the metal of his caged cock. The way her slow exploration made him groan was completely worth it.

But it was about time that her puppy felt some pain too, she knew how much he enjoyed it. Back up, Mikasa arched her fingers, changing her hand into a claw and digging her nails into the firm muscles of Eren’s abdomen. Mercilessly, she dragged her hand, creating a nice red path behind her hand. Eren’s eyes widened as he took a sharp intake of breath, but didn’t make a sound, even as Mikasa took her time in scratching his skin. He didn’t question it, didn’t protest, didn’t do anything to stop her. After all, Eren was Mikasa’s property, and if she wanted to mark him, then who could say no to her. To test her puppy further, Mikasa moved her hand again, this time all the way up to Eren’s chest. With delicate movement, she reached out, tweaking a nipple between her black fingernails. The sudden surge of pain made him curse, a muttered word said between clenched teeth, but it didn’t escape her attention.

“What was that?”, she said with a grin, “You said you wanted more? But of course…”

With a rustle of her dress, Mikasa leaned forward. Her every move carefully tracked by Eren’s eyes, who was just a little bit nervous about what she was going to do to him. Mikasa could get creative if she wanted to. Noticing his nervousness, her mouth moved up to his ear, whispering.

“Aww, poor baby, are you scared?.”, her tone dropped lower, “Good. You should be.”

Gently, she kissed his earlobe, the tip of her tongue playing with that sensitive body part, all fun and games, until she decided that Eren relaxed enough. And then she bit it, forcing another groan from her abused boy. With an evil giggle, Mikasa pulled back, one hand snaking behind Eren’s back and taking hold of his overlong hair, yanking his head back. Forced to stare at the ceiling, he could only feel as her lips descended to nip at his neck, abusing that little part above the collar’s edge. When her teeth sunk into it, adding another lovebite to the collection from the cinema, all he could do was groan. Again. Far from done, Mikasa moved her head down, kissing and nipping all over his skin, down until she reached her prize. Sealing her lips around Eren’s nipple, she flicked it with her tongue, lashed it with small kitten licks, loving how it made him shiver. Mikasa couldn’t wait to put the clamps back to work, as his nipples were very sensitive, same as hers, and she knew firsthand just how intense the metallic bite can be. For now, her teeth would do. Grazing the peak lightly, she used her hand to play with the other one, tips of her nails scratching lightly around the skin.

It was the anticipation that was the worst. Eren knew what was going to happen, sooner or later Mikasa would bite down, make him writhe in pain again, abuse his body, but all she did was featherlight, pleasurable, and the waiting was killing him. It used to be alien, weird, to derive pleasure from having his nipples played with, but he and Mikasa had long since crossed that bridge. Nowadays, they were up to some much darker stuff. At exactly that moment, she bit down, and her fingers that till now were only lightly tapping at his other nipple twisted it, making Eren’s whole body tense up from the sudden lash of pain. But he managed to remain silent, much to Mikasa’s delight. She did enjoy training her puppy, after all. Easing her hold, she once again returned to the nice treatment, as if that sharp sting was simply Eren’s imagination.

Taking her time with it, Mikasa developed a routine. Alternating between both of the sensitive peaks on Eren’s chest, she moved her mouth between them, but never let the other one rest, using her hand to play with it. Sometimes, her lips completely abandoned that area, choosing instead to nip at his collar bones, neck, everywhere she wanted to. She had two hands to use, didn’t she? Her mouth was an addition, she could very well handle her boy without it. His body was her playground, a canvas which she was slowly but surely painting red. Only here for now, but Mikasa had plans for the rest of it later, no rest for the wicked. Always unexpected, she was gentle before being rough, fondling and licking before biting and scratching, turning pain into pleasure and pleasure into pain on a moment’s notice.

Eren was taking the abuse or training, rather well, although groans and shivers moved his body anytime Mikasa got rough. It doesn’t really matter how much do you prepare mentally, having one of your nipples bitten into and the other tweaked by strong and nimble fingers just have certain effects on your body.

“You like pain, pretty boy?”, she murmured, “Do you like it when I torment you?”

As if she didn’t know the answer to that by now, as if his cock wildly straining against the cage wasn’t a proof of how much he craved it.

“I..L-Love it… Miss-“, Mikasa chose just that moment to bite again, “F-Fuck… Mistress..”

Eren wanted to touch her so bad, his hands straining where they rested behind his back, fingers digging into his own skin to keep himself from moving. There must have been red spots from how tightly the fingers of his left held his right wrist, and vice versa, effectively cuffing himself without Mikasa tying him up using anything physical. Her word was more than enough. The collar bobbed around his neck, when he swallowed, sweat beading on his skin, the abuse Mikasa was enjoying rather difficult to endure. Yet he did so, suffered it without moving a muscle, and that impressed his mistress enough to consider this part of the training as complete.

Pulling back, Mikasa returned to a more comfortable position at the sofa, her half-lidded eyes watching her toy. His own eyes were darkened, pupils dilated, breathing heavy and skin covered in sweat, beads of it running down over those pretty firm muscles. It made Mikasa hungry for more. And seeing his face, somewhat devoid of any marks, she got an idea.

“You’ve been eyeing my boots before.”, she said, turning her leg to give him a better look, “You like them?”

Eren’s eyes flickered down, taking in the glory that was her calf encased in tight leather.

“Of course, mistress.”

“Tell me, how would you reply if I said that they make me want to step on you?”

Oh god.

“I…Uh… I mean….”

The slap was hard, ringing Eren’s ears while his head snapped to the right with the strength of the blow. The rings didn’t make it better, surely leaving their marks on his cheek. Automatically, his head moved back to its original position, ready for more punishment if his mistress decided that it was necessary.

“When I ask you a question,”, another slap, “I expect only one answer,” another one, “Do you know what it is?”

“Yes.”, his jaw ached while talking, “It’s: Of course, mistress.”

“Good. Now get on the fucking floor.”

Immediately obeying, Eren lay down on his back, presenting himself in front of his mistress. Standing up, Mikasa loomed over him, looking down at her slave, the hint of sadism back in her eyes.

“Now, ask me for it.”, she drawled, “Beg.”

Not like Eren had a choice.

“Please, mistress, step on me.”

With a huff of satisfaction on finally being given the appropriate respect, Mikasa lifted her leg before slowly setting it down against Eren’s chest. His hands balled into fists as she increased the pressure, muscles clenching. Deeming that he’s ready, Mikasa let go of solid ground, fully moving to stand on Eren, his chest broad enough to fully accommodate her, looking down at him, the hint of sadism evolving into a full-blown grin. Mikasa could say that she was standing at the top of the world, or better yet, had the whole world beneath her feet. Funny.

The boots may have seriously been made for walking on people, the massive platform soles cushioning her feet very nicely, making even standing on such even terrain quite easy to do. For Eren, who was apparently turned into a human carpet, a footrest, it was rather hard to endure, although it gave him a little bonus. Lying under her, it gave him the perfect place from which he could peek under her dress, to see not only her beautifully strong pale legs in all their endlessly long glory but also the part between them, covered by the black lace of her panties. You know what, for this view, the suffering was worth it. That was until Mikasa took a step backward, planting on of her boots right on his crotch.

“Do you think your cock is feeling neglected?”, she thought out loud, increasing the pressure of her foot, “All alone in the cage, while we are having so much fun….”

Fishing between her necklaces, she pulled out the key, looking at it thoughtfully. Wiggling her leg, Mikasa forced more of those delicious sounds from her captive.

“Maybe I should unlock it…. Hmmm…”

Eren couldn’t really answer. Mikasa was not light, her athletic build made sure of that, so speaking was impossible with all her weight settled on his chest, pushing out any air he managed to squeeze into his lungs. He wasn’t really expecting to be let out this early into the play, but if she was offering, then maybe….

“No, not yet.”, she decided, letting go of the key and it vanished right back among the collection around her neck.

There goes that hope.

At least she lifted her foot back from his crotch and moved it to stand once more on his chest. It’s the small victories that count. The moment of triumph didn’t last long, as Mikasa once again lifted one of her legs, this time using it to turn Eren’s head and step on the side, squishing his face into the floor.

“You look so good under my boots, puppy, beneath me, it’s where you belong.”, the pressure increased again, making Eren’s eyes water, “It feels amazing to put you in your place.”

Having Eren endured all this shit she threw at him without a word of protest, the fact that he literally let her walk all over him made her so aroused that Mikasa had to hop off, otherwise she might just not be able to hold herself and fuck him here and there, which would be a waste of all her evil plans. Breathing hard, she stared at his devoted face under her foot, loving this moment of dominance so much. When Eren gave himself to her this willingly, when he absolutely followed orders, it never failed to make her wet between the legs. Regaining control from her primal side, Mikasa closed her eyes for a second, searching that lost composition before forcing herself to stop and get on with it. Fuck, but this was hot.

Just as soon as it appeared, the heavy boot was gone, allowing Eren to turn his head back up, just in time to catch Mikasa stepping down from him and returning to her place on the sofa. Reaching out, she crooked a single finger in the well-known gesture of Come here.

Able to breathe freely after what felt like an eternity, Eren slowly picked himself up from the floor and back into the kneeling position by her side. To say that she was harsh would be an understatement, Mikasa was really letting her cruel sadist side run free tonight. Aside from all the scratches left behind from before, his chest now had boot prints from where his cruel mistress deemed his body to be worthy of being stepped on by her divine being.

“That was fun,” she said, awfully cheerful, “I’m definitely doing it again, soon. But now…”

Stretching her legs, Mikasa smirked.

“Those boots are heavy to wear, and I’m growing tired.”

She tapped the top of one with her finger, her nail lightly touching the black leather. Eyes looking straight at Eren, her voice changed from the normal one back to her dominatrix tone, giving orders and not taking no as an answer.

“I want your mouth on my boots, puppy, I want you to kiss and lick every part of them. I want you to show just how devoted you are to serving me. After that, I’ll allow you to take them off and you will give a similar treatment to my legs, and massage my feet too, it was a long day of walking after all.”, smirk once again curved her black-painted lips, “What do you say, pretty boy, up for the task?”

Taking a wheezing breath, Eren tore his eyes away from those sexy shoes, meeting her gaze. Was he up for it? Damn, that was not even a question. Not only was he completely under her control, but from the way she worded the order it was clear that Mikasa wanted Eren to help her relax, to feel good, and that was always high on his priority list, doesn’t matter if she was domming him or not.

“I would love to do it.”, he said, “To worship you, mistress.”

“Good boy.”

Relaxing once again into the sofa, Mikasa lifted her leg, letting Eren take hold of it. Seeing how eager he looked, how his eye darted all the way over the knee-high boot and up to the for now forbidden garden of Mikasa’s stocking covered thigh, it did things to her, to the place between her legs which was getting more and more aroused by the second. For now, however, the dominatrix would just sit back and enjoy the show. Seated comfortably, she nodded at her puppy, ordering him to start with a single word.

“Begin.”

[iainwrites]

The Rise of Skywalker Likes and Dislikes

This is going to talk very bluntly and blatantly about things that happened in the movie.  So if you’ve been holding off on seeing it, here’s your warning.  Or if you don’t want to read someone criticizing something you enjoyed.  Skip past everything.

Likes:

-Finn at the beginning.  It’s nice to see his character growth from oblivious and try-to-hard former Stormtrooper, to still a little blundering Resistance fighter but still shows he’s capable, to a man confident in himself/in himself/in his friends and allies.

-When Chebacca learns of Leia’s death.  That’s the look of someone who has lost their oldest friends and don’t even have the strength to be angry.  There’s just loss.  THAT is one of the most powerful moments in this whole movie.

-Fine.  Ben’s “Okay bitches.  Now we can do this.” shrug before carving through the Knights is a great bit of physical acting and (I guess) comedy.

-The new main trio meet at the end and… hug.  No kissing.  No pairing off.  Three people who just survived a war and are happy that each is still alive.  Especially Finn.  This is his family and they’re okay.  Not everything has to end with hook-ups or resolved love triangles.  

Dislikes and Opinions:

-Palpatine.  Why?  He did his bit in the prequels, died in the OT, had no bearing in either TFA or TLJ.  So why bring him back now?

-What was the point of Rose in this?  She gets limited screen-time and doesn’t move the plot along.  The movie could have used this as a means to continue its slow show of representation, but apparently that’s a bridge too far.  But we did get Naomi Ackie as a supporting character of color with screentime and lines?  So we… traded?  Maintained?

-The fuck was with that Finn “I have something to tell you” line?  There was no lead in from any of the prior movies at all.  And no, it doesn’t count if it was revealed in the novelisation of either of the previous films.

-So Rey can sense Chewie is on a ship… but can’t tell that he’s on a different ship than the one she blows up?  Or that he’s not on the ship that she’s telekinetically fighting over?

-D-O is cute factor and nothing more or better.  Add onto that: Babu was there for cute factor.  And people shit on Jar Jar (me included) because he was written as something to entertain children.

-Rey is a Palpatine.  Why was that a choice that was made?  Why does she have to be related to anyone pre-existing in the Star Wars canon?  And why did things have to be explained not in the movie, but in tweets, interviews, the novelisation, etc?  Like the fact that Rey is a Palpatine.  Movie made you think that one of her parents was Sheev’s child, right?  Which one?  Sorry, didn’t tell us.  Oh, and it was her father, by the way.  Oh, and he wasn’t Palpatine’s child; he was actually a failed clone of Palpatine.  And that’s just one part.

-How does the blade work in the grand scheme of things?  Was it made after the destruction of the Death Star (because how else would it be able to line up so well with the wreckage)?  Who made it?  Why didn’t they pillage Palpatin’s hidden room of important shit?  Why didn’t they pass it on immediately to Kylo if he’s the second coming of Vader?

-Leia’s death.  Yes, all they had was archival footage.  So you mean to tell me that they couldn’t have done anything with that miraculous CGI technology to create a facial/vocal facsimile?  That they had no point of reference of ever doing that?  That there was absolutely no budget?  Or that rewrites were an impossible thing?  Because “Leia lays down, dies, and gives her son a moment to pause and get stabbed” isn’t doing right by Carrie Fisher or respecting her legacy.  That’s “Well, this is what we have.  Guess all we can do is use only what we have to make something and not put any more effort into it.”

-”We have no source material!” Except the whole “Emperor trying to find a new body” thing was done in Dark Empire.  As was the fact that the Emperor we saw was a clone that decayed rapidly without a Force-strong host.  And the fleet of ships to turn the tide of things was done with the Katana Fleet.  And Force Heal has been done in games like the GBA version of Revenge of the Sith.  And and and.

-Han Solo forgives his son!  Except it’s not Han, or a Force Ghost of Han (because Han wasn’t Force sensitive or trained to become self aware in the Cosmic Force after he died because that’s the explanation that they’ve been establishing in the Clone Wars TV series since the end of Season 6), but a figment of Ben’s imagination.  So Ben imagined that his father forgave him for murdering him.  … That’s not how it works.  If you’re imagining your murder victim forgiving you, there’s probably some deep psychological shit to deal with.

-People have talked about it, so I’ll hop on the train: how in the hell did Lando travel quickly enough to get that many ships when a distress call put out by Leia herself couldn’t shift asses?  How can he cover that much area, gather all those ships, then get through the mists or whatever the shit surround Exogal when one of those tracking beacon/map thingies have been set up as the only way a ship can travel through?

-For everything that Abrams did to negate TLJ, Palpatine’s monologue of Rey’s actions is very similar to Snoke’s monologue of Ren’s actions.  Down to the “HAHA PSYCH!” moment.

-The Knights of Ren are just a shit-show.  The name sounds cool, though, right!  Aaannnddd they’re killed off without a single line said or them proving to be any sort of threat representative of their “feared” name.

-Here’s something: when all the past Jedi are talking to Rey, you’re told who the male voices belong to (including stuff like Young Obi-Wan and Kanan).  But you only get Female Jedi 1 and Female Jedi 2.  That’s kind of fucked up and sexist, right?

-They set up Rey’s anger throughout the trilogy as being her path to the Dark Side (going as far to show what she could be like if she gives into those darker urges)... and never really do anything to resolve it.

-They REALLY lean into the idea that Finn is Force sensitive in this movie, don’t they?  Despite no evidence of it in any other movie.

-The random scene of just revived Rey grasping Ben’s hand and the frames drop (maybe that’s just my copy, but it's still a standout).  If it’s something everyone gets… then why the hell is something that glaring still in the movie.

-The kiss.  The novelisation said that the kiss was one of “gratitude,” but seriously?  Rogue One had a moment of gratitude where Jyn and Cassian are together and they… hug.  That’s it.  Piss off with your gratitude; there was a kiss because this movie substitutes sense with forced fanservice and they knew that people wanted to see Rey and Kylo together at some point.  Just like they likely kept Rose out of the movie because people gave Kelly Marie Tran shit.  Like that could have made the movie even possibly worse.

-Ben dies and fades away… and Leia’s body fades away at the same time.  Even though she’s been dead for a day+ at this point.  Because… she connected her spirit to her son?  See, that’s something I pulled completely out of thin air, but wouldn’t it be nice if that was the truth and the movie actually explained that was what happened instead of just giving random ass coincidences?

-Rey Skywalker.  Why does she have to be Rey Anybody?  There could have been such a positive spin to what she said earlier in the movie.  “Just Rey.”  Have her say it with pride and ownership now.  She’s her own person, unburdened by the names of those who have gone before.  She doesn’t have any name to live up to.

-Fuck you for your obvious, blatant and unecessary fanservice and self pleasing imagery where the twin suns are arranged to look like BB-8.  He’s not so important that one of the last lingering moments has to be of your new creation, Abrams.  You’re not so essential to Star Wars that you have to make a “HEY LOOK AT ME THE GUY WHO MADE THIS MOVIE” made-for-screenshots image.

Meh

-There’s no meh.  There are just rare moments of contentment amongst a constant feeling of disappointment and frustration.

Random Asides

-Kathleen Kennedy did an interview with Rolling Stone in November of 2019 leading up to The Rise of Skywalker.  You may have seen it float around, but she said “Every one of these movies is a particularly hard nut to crack. There’s no source material. We don’t have comic books. We don’t have 800-page novels.”  It’s in relation to how difficult it is to write and direct the movies, but come on.�� There’s TONS of source material, dating as far back 1977 for the comics AND the novels.  There might not be 800 page novels, but there are trilogies, doulogies and massive story arcs that exceed those numbers (NJO and Legacy of the Force may not be your thing, but they’re there).  Rebels went and borrowed Zeb’s look from the original script AND took characters directly from Zahn’s Thrawn trilogy; Clone Wars pulled from Legends while Legends were still considered canon and afterwards.  Not all of it is good; it’d be difficult to translate a lot of it to screen without heavy edits these days.

“I love that we have these amazingly passionate fans who care so much. And I know sometimes they may think we don’t listen, but we do, and I thought it was fantastic that people got that engaged. It just showed me and everybody else how much they care. And that’s important for all of us that are doing this. We really look at them as the custodians of this story as much as [we are]. We look at it as kind of a partnership.”  Except when we’re not happy with a product that turns out to be sub-par.  Piss right off.

-Billie Dee Williams seems like he’s dropped in from a different movie entirely.  Not a bad thing; his delivery and presence is just so different from anyone else’s.

All In All

-It’s my least favorite of all the movies.  Worse than any of the prequels.  And say what you will about the prequels: at least they had a connecting story and the director didn’t try to kneecap something that happened in the middle movie before burying it in a shallow grave while taking a dump on the things left behind that didn’t fit in their vision.  It’s worse than Solo.  No amount of fanservice can fix the fact that the movie was by-and-large unenjoyable.   

[childpsychnurse-blog]

The Bad Kid

Disclaimer: all names and identifying information about patients have been modified. Please see “About and Disclaimer” for more information.

I don’t know what my first post should be about.

Sometimes my work is sad. Sometimes it’s funny. Sometimes it’s hopeful. Sometimes it’s disheartening. Sometimes it’s fun. Sometimes it sucks. A lot of the time it’s downright weird.

I love it and would not trade it for anywhere else, at least not right now.

I think the first story I’ll share is one from when I first started, back when I was still learning how to coach and advocate and manage behaviors and be a part of this wild and crazy thing. It may not be the most interesting story I have but it was pretty instrumental in my own development. There were two defining moments in this day: one that taught me about myself and about the vulnerability that still touches us as staff, and one that greatly deepened my understanding of my patients and their humanity.

A little background: on my unit everyone starts as “coaches,” including the nurses. The coaches are a little like the CNA’s of the psych world. You could also call them mental health techs. They’re the ones who are the most “on the floor.” They wake kids up, take them to breakfast, teach them skills’ groups, run their schedules, chart on them, call nurses with concerns, monitor conversations, and basically do a good chunk of the ground work. They’re amazing, and the thought process is that anyone who will be managing the coaches (such as the nurses) should have a solid handle on the job first. The work they do and skills they learn are also pretty foundational to all the behavioral management the nurses do, hence all the nurses spend a few months working in the coaching role. The reason I’m sharing all this detail, although perhaps it is a little excessive, is that this story is from when I was working as a coach in my first month or two as a new hire.

My assignment on this particular day was to work with our younger teenager group. Working with this group can have pros and cons from a staff’s perspective. They can be a lot of fun, have a great sense of humor, and tend to be more engaged than the older teens who can check out and be “too cool” for peer groups. They can also be super sassy and overly fueled by peer pressure and insecurity. Some of our kids are very sweet and they come to our unit for a variety of reasons, so groups (and individuals) can change a lot. This particular hodgepodge of kiddos I was to work with was a bit notorious for being difficult to manage.

I was having a terrible day with them.

They were arguing with me about any sort of limit or task demand I tried to impose, they were whispering to each other and sharing personal information (a big no-no for lots of safety reasons), and we were making very little progress on much of anything. I found myself swept up into a series of power-struggles and on the verge of tears but trying to put on a tough front.

One kid was particularly challenging. He was in for aggression or something like that, I don’t really know and it doesn't really matter. He kept calling me bad words and pulling the rest of the group even more off-track. He was in and out of group, and emotionally I was done with him pretty early on in the shift. He’ll come up again later in this post.

Eventually another patient went into a crisis that necessitated the rest of us leaving and transitioning to a different area of the unit. We sat in the living area, arguing, and me wondering how the hell I thought I could do this job.

The first defining experience that came out of the day for me happened in that living area. Another staff was over there with a kid who was assigned to have an individual staff rather than being in a peer group. This kid was asleep, and the staff came over to check in with me.

“Hey, how’s it going?”

I look at her. “It’s okay. Well, I don’t know. I’m stuck. I don’t know what to do with this group.”

She nods at looks at the kids, drawing penises and writing down phone numbers and cuss words, then looks back at me. “You need a break.”

“Nah, the shift’s almost over. I’ll be fine.”

My coworker shakes her head. “No, you NEED a break. Trade with me. [My patient] is sleeping anyway; you just have to be here so he has access to a staff. Get some charting done, I’ll finish out with your group.”

Almost reluctantly but with a great deal of unacknowledged relief, I agree. She takes my group and I go sit in the nursing station and chart while checking on the sleeping patient.

There were a lot of things going through my head. First of all, I’m supposed to me a nurse. I went through an incredibly intense program and I did it. I got here. I’m supposed to be a leader. I’m supposed to be strong. Did I just fail? I think I might have. I shouldn’t have been power-struggling that much with the kids, that wasn’t helping anyone and was making it worse. I was letting them control me. None of my interventions worked, I can’t be a leader here, who am I kidding?

Then, in the middle of the nursing station, another thought. What does it mean to experience weakness as strength? We’re only human, after all. If I’m around people in crisis, I’m going to be in crisis too. What I can control is how I chose to respond to it, how I chose to take care of myself, how I chose to cope. And it’s okay for the kids to see that, maybe even healthy for them to see someone model functional ways to deal with that kind of emotion, and also to see the impacts they can have on other people.

It’s okay to take a break. It’s okay to ask for a change. It’s okay to have an emotional reaction, even if you’re the staff. This job is hard. These kids are sick. You didn’t make them sick, but you can help keep them safe. You do need to take care of yourself if you want to last here, and taking a break is sometimes part of that self-care.

I was fortunate enough to have some follow-up at the end of that shift that would become the second defining moment for me in my job of that day.

We moved our sleeping friend and I was back to helping with evening routine and getting kids into bed. The patient I mentioned earlier was sitting in the hall, refusing to brush his teeth, go into his room, or complete pretty much anything that had been set out as an expectation. He was chatting with a peer.

“This unit used to be one floor, you know, then they added upstairs,” he told the peer. He glances briefly at me, then away. “I’ve been here a lot. I’m a bad kid.”

This kid has, quite frankly, been pissing me off and hurting my feelings all day. His words in that moment, however, grab at my heartstrings and completely catch me off-guard.

“Dude,” I tell him, “you’re not a bad kid. You’ve made some bad choices but they don’t define who you are. You can still make good choices.”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Y'all only ever say something when we’re being bad, nobody says anything when we’re being good.”

He’s right and I know it. Not about the entire unit: lots of staff members are good at positive reinforcement. But I haven’t been doing that today and chances are that a lot of coaches haven’t been recently, especially with this guy. I own it.

“You’re right. I haven’t said anything when you’re doing a good job, and I’m sorry. I should have. That’s on me, and I’ll work on it.”

He shrugs and doesn’t say much else. Shortly thereafter though he does go back into his bedroom and go to sleep.

I’m a bad kid.

Is that a story I tell myself when I’m frustrated with the kids? That they’re just bad kids? Does that thought, lurking in my subconscious, influence and drive the way I interact with them and the interventions I choose?

Some of these kids have been through hell. Some of them have lived on the streets, been abused, grown up in the foster system, and/or never had any sort of positive role model. And that’s not even factoring in the pressure of whatever is going on in their heads: anxiety, depression, shame, or voices outside of their cognitive control. They do make choices and they need to take ownership of their actions, but sometimes those choices are infinitely harder for them because of factors way outside of their control.

And they’re just KIDS.

They’re not bad kids. They’re just kids. They want the same things any kid wants: love. Acceptance. Security. Food. Water. Safety. Rest. Look at Maslow’s hierarchy. We see that all the time.

As it happens, I worked with that particular group again a few days later. The personality of the group had evolved slightly due to discharges and admits but was more or less the same, and my friend from the previous shift was still there. I focused really hard on praising that patient when he was making good choices, however small they were. I worked on not power struggling with the group and talking to them like adults. I let them know I expected them to be respectful and take ownership of their own learning and skill building because it would help them, but I wasn’t going to patronize them and was willing to be flexible on how we ran the day as long as they were respectful and somewhat engaged.

They had a great day.

And I had a great day with them, working with the group of great kids that just needed a little extra help and compassion.