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."
⊹ your gear is your own: this is an 18+ blog, and please adhere responsibly to this boundary. mdni. i don't write nsfw or suggestive for any minor characters.
⊹ fight with honour, flirt with abandon: hateful, discriminatory or any form of bigotry will be deleted and blocked. any form of sexism, homophobia, racism or transphobia won't be tolerated!
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✩ 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 — questions & answers
q: who do you write for?
a: as of now, i write for jujutsu kaisen (呪術廻戦) and attack on titan (進撃の巨人)
q: will you write [specific kínk?]
a: i'm happy to push the boundaries and write some less-vanilla plots. but the list of prompts i won't write are pretty standard, like non-cón, or gross body fluids.
q: will you write for [insert here] character?
a: i'll seriously write for anyone, apart from nsfw mahito. fuck mahito. all my homies hate mahito.
q: can i send a request even if you haven't answered anything? why haven't you answered?
a: please feel free to send a request! a long queue just means the scouts are busy on an extended expedition (as in life is kicking my ass). but your request will always be logged, and i will get to it in the order it was received. i always prefer an ask or request off anon, so i can tag you!
q: what's your dream tag-team?
a: i need to get in the middle of that gojo satoru/levi ackerman sandwich so bad.
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