cw 𐙚 mdni — mean!bf, power dynamics, degradation, fíngering, pwp
the humid summer air clung to your skin like a second layer, thick and suffocating in the dim light of quiet apartment. floch's place, all concrete walls and entirely functional, where you were perched on the edge of his stiff bed, the rough wool blanket scratching at the backs of your thighs. he stood across the room, having just pushed the door shut with a heavy, final thud.
the look in his hazel eyes was not one of a gentle homecoming.
"you're late," he said, voice a low and rasping echo that scraped over your nerves. he was hardly asking a question, it was more of a stated fact. a transgression for which there would be consequences.
"the bus–" you started, your own voice sounding thin and reedy.
your boyfriend sighed, waving his wrist sharply, "i don't care about the bus. i care about my time. my time, which you wasted."
he began to pull off his dull moss-green jacket, and you stared at the expanse of the hard, defined planes of his chest, to which a tight grey t-shirt clung to. you could see the ripple of muscle with each breath, the powerful set of his shoulders.
his auburn hair fell thick over his forehead, a victim of summer's cloying, damp heat. floch tossed the jacket over a chair, taking a step towards you. you gulped as the space in the room seemed to shrink.
"stand up."
your legs felt weak, but you obeyed, rising on unsteady feet. he closed the distance until he was right in front of you, the heat of his body thrumming, palpable and pulsing.
he didn't touch you. not yet.
"you know what happens when you're undisciplined," floch murmured, his hungry gaze dropping to your lips.
you nodded, a shaky and barely-there motion.
"use your words, baby."
"yes," you whispered, inhaling the sharp, addictive scent of him. woody, smoky notes of his cologne.
"yes, what?"
"yes, i know what happens," you paused, gnawing your lower lip, "sir."
a slow, sharp-toothed smile touched floch's lips. not quite reaching his cold eyes, "good." his hands came up then, framing your face. calloused palms rough against the soft skin of your cheeks. his thumbs stroking along your jawline, a mockery of a caress.
"such a pretty, little mouth. always making excuses."
floch leans in, breath hot against the shell of your ear, "you're going to learn to be on time. even if i have to fuck the lesson into you."
a shiver wracked your body, a cocktail of heat and raw, undeniable arousal. his words were filthy, degrading, and they sent a bolt of pure lightning straight to your core.
god, you were already wet. the slick heat between your legs was a traitorous secret that you were certain your boyfriend was already aware of.
floch didn't wait for a reply, and his mouth crashed down on yours. not a kiss of passion, but conquest. it was hard and demanding, his tongue forcing its way past your lips to claim the space within. he tasted of coffee, and a faint, metallic hint of the energy tab he was always chewing.
one of his warm hands slid from your face, tangling in your hair and pulling your head back to deepen the angle, while the other roamed down your back, pressing you flush against the unyielding wall of his body. you could feel the hard ridge of his cock, already straining against the rough weave of his trousers, pressed insistently against your stomach.
your boyfriend broke the kiss as abruptly as he started, a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips for a second before it snapped. his hazel eyes darkened with intent, "clothes. off. now."
floch's tone brooked no argument, and your fingers fumbled with the hem of your shirt, trembling as you pulled it over your head. you reached for the clasp of your bra, but his voice stopped you.
"nuh-uh. slowly. let me see you."
you forced your hands to slow, your heart hammering against your ribs. you undid the clasp and let the straps slide down your arms, baring your breasts to the stifling air and his predatory gaze. his eyes darkened further, a hungry glint appearing in their amber depths.
"that's better," he grunted, "now the rest."
you pushed your jeans and cloying panties down your legs, stepping out of the pooled fabric, utterly exposed before him. he, who was still in his combat boots and fatigues. dizzying.
but floch finally moved, closing the last inch between you. his calloused hands were everywhere, mapping your body with a soldier's brutal efficiency. he palmed your breast, his thumb scraping roughly over your sensitive nipple, making you gasp and arch into the touch despite yourself. his other hand slid between your legs, his fingers parting your slick folds without preamble.
"fuck," he breathed, his voice husky, wavering on the last note. "soaked for me already. you really are a desperate little thing, aren't you?"
you whimpered, burying your face in the solid muscle of floch's shoulder as two of his fingers pushed inside you. they were thick and unyielding, stretching you, a blunt, shocking invasion. he pumped he digits in and out a few times, the wet, slick sound obscenely loud in the quiet room. schlick. schlick.
"look at me, sweet thing," he commanded, his fingers stilling deep inside you, moulding to your gummy, clingy walls.
you lifted your bleary head, your vision blurry with unshed tears of sheer pleasure, that overwhelming sensation that thudded beneath your ribcage.
"i wanna see your face when i take what's mine."
your boyfriend withdrew his fingers and spun you around, pushing you forward until your hands were flat on the cool concrete wall. the rough surface bit into your palms, as you heard the rasp of his zipper, the rustle of fabric as he shoved his pants down just enough to free himself. you felt the broad, hot head of his cock nudge against your entrance, a promise of the pleasure to come.
floch didn't ask, nor prepare you further, save for a guileless kiss to your cheek as he just drove into you in one single, merciless thrust.
a sharp gasp was punched out of you, a choked, guttural cry. floch was huge, filling you completely, stretching you to a burning, exquisite brink. there was no gentleness, no slow build. this was a punishment, a claiming.
floch set a punishing rhythm immediately, his hips slamming against your ass with a series of sharp, wet smacks. smack. smack. thwack! his grip on your hips was iron, sure to leave bruises, marks of his ownership.
"t-tight," floch grunted, his breath coming in harsh pants near your ear, "so fucking tight around my cock. you take it so well, you greedy slut. isn't that right, baby?"
his words were a brand, searing into your mind even as his body ravaged yours. every thrust jolted through you, a seismic shock of pleasure-pain that had you seeing stars. you could feel the sweat-slicked heat of his chest against your back, the coarse hair on his legs rubbing against your sensitive skin.
the room filled with the sounds of your sin. his ragged breathing, the lewd, squelching noise of his cock pistoning in and out of your drenched cunt, your own broken, helpless moans.
ah! ah! baby!
"that's it," he growled, his pace becoming even more frantic, more brutal, "say my name. beg for it."
"please," you sobbed, your nails scraping against the textured concrete, "please, floch, please!"
you felt your boyfriend's thick cock swell even larger inside you, a telltale sign of his impending release. and with a final, deep, grinding thrust that hit a spot so deep inside you it made your vision whiten, he buried himself to the hilt.
a raw, animalistic groan tore from his throat, and you felt the hot, sudden flood of his pearly cum painting your inner walls, pulse after thick, claiming pulse.
the force of his orgasm, the sheer visceral intensity of being filled by him, tipped you over the edge. your own climax crashed over you, a silent, screaming wave that locked your muscles and stole the air from your lungs. you shuddered violently around him, your cunt milking his spent cock for every last drop.
for a long moment, the only sound was both of you gasping for air, your bodies still joined. floch stayed buried inside you, his weight heavy on your back, his forehead resting between your shoulder blades.
slowly, he softened and slipped out, a trickle of his release following, warm and wet on your inner thigh. he turned you around, his hands surprisingly steady now on your waist. floch's face was still hard, but the ruthless edge in his hazel eyes had softened by a fraction. he looked at the tear tracks on your cheeks, the utter wreck he’d made of you.
floch brought a thumb up and wiped roughly at a tear, "next time," he said, his voice back to that low, commanding rasp, "you'll be on time, won't you, baby? let me take care of you now."
Premise: reader is shy and grew up with overprotective parents, leading to her being awkward. Reiner wants her out that shell
Authors note: I can do a part two if you like
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You found it both infuriating and ironic how the sunny day switched into a dark stormy afternoon during your interview for a job. You knew you hadn’t made it, the interviewer would constantly raise her brows in this somewhat pitying look everyone else loves to target you with.
A sheltered life provided you with this talent of making people look down on you, like they knew something was wrong by instinct.
Now, being in the real world even in your twenties, feels… misguided.
You walk to the bus stop with your clothes drenched and muscles tightening from the cold. Your skills in confidence may not be there, but it doesn’t stop you from finding great people.
Your fiancé, Reiner especially, had been a blessing you somehow managed to catch amidst a sea of chaos. Despite your self loathing, he was patient and kind, even if you had bumpy moments. Specifically about seeing his mother.
You wanted to, of course! He met yours, if anything, a favour should be repaid. However, a gnawing worry always caught you before you could agree. Given how many people your sheltered personality had scared, you don’t want disapproval from your mother in law.
Instead, you constantly promise Reiner you’d keep trying and fail him anyway.
Your thoughts swallowed you to the point the cold turns into a numb chill. Realising the bus won’t turn up anytime soon. Now you have to accept the idea of a cold.
Before you could take a seat on the bus stop bench, a familiar car slows by the opposite side of the street.
“What are you doing out here wet, love?” The window rolls down to reveal a concerned Reiner.
“Didn’t predict this!” You call out amidst the droplets that aggressively pour down. He hurries out and uses his jacket to block you from anything further.
“You’ll catch a cold.” He helps you in, restraining his mother hen behaviour and getting into the drivers seat.
The wind wipers break you out of thought and you blink towards his careful driving. “What were you doing?” He asks whilst adjusting the heat.
Your eyes shut at the breeze of warmth fanning at your face and wet clothes. “Interview,” you hoarsely sigh. “Couldn’t really sleep last night from the fear of it… ‘n now I know I probably flopped it.”
He spares you a tight browed look and waits for the cars to pass by. “What makes you say that? The results haven’t even come in.”
“She kept looking at me like I was a wet puppy.” Your chin tilts to your window, as if checking to see how pitiful you truly appear.
“Maybe it was a motherly look and she’ll hire you.” He smiles, his hand on your knee. You soften at the touch and chuckle at his odd optimism.
“Yeah well-“ you pause and glance around in a panic when you realise he’s taken you to his mothers. “Baby…no-“
His seatbelt pops open and Reiner cocks a brow, “It’s a house, love not a haunted factory.”
“But- but… I didn’t get flowers for your mother! Or chocolates!”
“She hates chocolate.” He exits and walks round whilst you hastily undo your belt, your stomach spinning. She’ll disapprove of you in this state surely, soaked and shivering.
The door opens and you find a calloused hand waiting for you to accept.
Not wanting to hurt your poor Reiner’s heart, you take it and come out of the car like a mouse scurrying out of a hiding hole.
“I’ve got some clothes you can wear,” he mumbles as he unlocks the door and calls out for his mother, you hide behind him shyly, noticing the droplets of water from your clothes falling on her mopped floor.
When Reiner receives no answer back, he ushers you upstairs and gives you a shirt and pants he doesn’t wear anymore.
His childhood bedroom somewhat soothes you as you enter clutching the dry clothes he suggested you change into. The bed frame is very obviously a replacement, old and won out but the charm of the toy box and desk full of his folders and books remind you that you’re okay.
The bathroom is connected to his room, providing you with safety of not having to socialise with his mother. The dim light turns on with a hum, the mirror revealing how much of a mess you are.
The clothes may be oversized but at the very least cosy. Cosy enough that the bed looks inviting.
After closing the bathroom light, you pad over the bed and sit, promising yourself you’d only lean on the pillows without sleeping.
Before your eyelids could weigh you down, the door opens to Reiner in a jacket. “Gonna go pick my mum from the grocery store, love, I’ll be back, yeah?”
He hastily walks on over and kisses your forehead, “sleep if you like”-
“What-?! No! Not sleepy! Not even sleeping!” You laugh, cheeks heating up at the fact that he caught you.
Reiner doesn’t seem to process your words properly and checks for his keys before smiling at you. “Bye, sweetheart.”
He leaves you with a grin only a lovesick teen could have, the kiss lingers on your skin even as the front door closes and his car pulls out of the driveway.
How sweet could a man his size be? A bear, practically built to intimidate comes across as a teddy bear.
You find yourself dizzily fighting sleep, the gentle pelts on the window eventually soothes you into passing out.
Somehow, it felt like the best sleep ever. Despite given the events beforehand, you slept like a baby, waking up to find yourself tucked in and properly inside the bed. Reiner must’ve done this.
You rub your eyes, hoping only Reiner saw you like this and not his mother too. You clumsily climb out of bed, your sleepiness somehow infects your legs as you stumble around to grab your phone and call your family to let them know you’re safe.
“Woah,” two calloused hands steady you, gently guiding you into sitting back down. You clutch the phone and comply.
“Rein… ‘m sorry.” You whisper, sleep plaguing your voice. The shame wakes you and your chin tilts down. “Did your mother see me…?”
The broad male kneels in front of you and rubs your arm, “sweetheart you’re always welcome here, those are my mums words…”
“In your shirt and mismatched sweatpants?” You grunt, heat prickling your flesh from embarrassment.
He smiles and pulls you in, as if you needed more warmth. His chest is hotter than you’d like but you remain. “I called your parents, let me know if you want me to drop you off or spend the night here,” he says into your hair.
“Home,” your voice muffles against his shirt.
He reassures you he’ll do just that after he showers, knowing Reiner, it won’t be too long. You collect yourself and go downstairs by your own will.
“M-Mrs Braun…?” You glance around and hear noise in the living room. Your footsteps carry you towards it and find her sat in front of the television watching a drama you recognise.
“Oh darling,” she pats the space next to her, an inviting smile encouraging you to be yourself. “Call me Karina, I’ve already told you this.”
“Karina,” you smile back and accept the seat, the show playing on. “I’m so sorry I didn’t greet you… I- I’m sorry I fell asleep I didn’t even realise I had”-
“Oh you silly thing,” she interrupts and pauses the show, “do you believe falling asleep on a bed is an unacceptable thing?”
You chuckle, “it was rude of me… I didn’t… I haven’t even been visiting as much as I should.” You fiddle with your shirt and watch the show with a small grin. This isn’t as bad as you thought, she’s quite similar your mother anyway.
“I love this show,” you whisper and Karina hears, smiling maternaly at you.
“It’s quite dramatic but it keeps me from boredom.”
“Aren’t all Turkish shows dramatic?” You laugh, bonding over the show together until your fiancé- who usually spends only ten minutes in the shower comes out after thirty.
His hair is damp and his jacket is still not on, “Love,” he calls out as if searching for you.
“In here, Reiner.” Karina responds and winks at you.
The blond seems pleasantly surprised at the sight of you and his mother sat together watching a drama.
“You’re watching that godawful show again,” he playfully shakes his head, Karina almost looks appalled at his words.
“Trust me darling he’s always in the corner of the room watching with me!”
You laugh as the two banter with each other about it, getting up between them and making your way upstairs to get your things.
Just as you grab your clothes and bag, the drizzle against the windows intensifies. This looks too dangerous to make Reiner drive in…
“Baby?” He follows in after you, his broad shoulder leaning into the doorframe.
“I can’t make you drive through this storm, Rei.” You turn to him with knotted brows, “I-I’ll call my parents and tell them I’m staying for the night, it’s okay.”
He can read the worry and disappointment in your voice and chooses to ignore it and capture you in a playful hug. “It’ll be like a sleepover, trust me.”
You whine at the noogy he rubs into your head, squirming around in his arms. “Rei!” It’ll be a long night for you.
THERE IS NEW OFFICIAL ART OF FLOCH AND NOT ONLY IS IT OFFICIAL CONTENT BUT ITS STEAMPUNK AND HE'S WEARING A SKIRT. I'M GOING TO BE SICK. SOMEONE HELP ME.
