#sub floch

Your harsh words only make him arch his back and buck his hips harder into your brutal thrusts, pushing back against the hand you have bruising his hip. His face is flushed with humiliation but his cock is harder than ever, dripping with pre. With the way Floch was always shooting off at the mouth and beating down his former comrades you were surprised to find out what a submissive wreck he was as soon as someone touched his cock.

You don’t know when he went from a spineless coward to a sadistic freak, but he seemed to crumble around you. 

You know what they say about a paper man.

“Fuck fuck fuck. c’mon I know you – ahhh – can fuck me harder than that!” Floch barely manages to choke out, and you’re in awe of his audacity for a few moments before your hips snap almost painfully hard against his ass and he cries out hoarsely. “Fuckkk! just like that yes yes!”

“You’re in no position to be barking orders at me, Floch. But since you’re so dead set on not walking tomorrow I’ll indulge you just this once.” You laugh, pupils blown as you watch him squirm helplessly. Your thighs and abdominals burn from the effort of fucking him so intensely but you won’t stop until you’ve forced another orgasm out of him.

He’s already cum twice, his cock red and overstimulated as it bobs in time with your thrusts, but he doesn’t care. All he can think about is your strap rearranging his guts and your bruising grip, the way the sweat dripping down both your bodies makes your skin slide deliciously against his.

Your hand leaves his head and your hips slow just enough for you to reach underneath his hips and turn him over onto his back. The faux length slips out of him in the process and he whines at the loss, suddenly shy at the exposed position as you lift his legs and nearly fold him in half before lining yourself up and pressing back inside of him. All thoughts leave him as the tip bumps against his prostate, willing his jaw to go slack again as you continue your savage pace from before, bullying that spot. He has that faraway look you love, face fully flushed red and eyes staring dazed at nothing as he claws and squirms.

His moans become high-pitched and girlish, his dick throbbing against his wet stomach, balls tensing up in preparation. You keep one arm around his knees to keep him bent the way you want and wriggle a free hand around to pump his cock mercilessly, delighting in the way he screams out his ecstasy, sounding crazed as you overwhelm him with the two-sided pleasure.

“Gonna cum gonna cum!” Floch wails urgently, all his muscles tightening as he approaches the point of no return. And just as he dances on the edge, you stop. Your hand leaves his dick and your hips still. “NO! No c’mon I’m so fucking close!”

He thrashes angrily, but you hold him still as he raves and sobs. His length jumps and for a moment you fear he may release anyways, but he doesn’t spill a drop, hips writhing in an attempt to regain the friction you’d oh so cruelly stolen from him.

“Beg for it or I’ll leave you like this.” 

Floch whines pitifully at the thought, wondering briefly if you really would. Surely this wasn’t just hatefucking to you, surely this meant you cared for him to some degree and he was justified in throwing himself at you for the slightest sign of interest after months of watching you from afar.

You were always so frustratingly captivating, and yet so oblivious to his longing looks for so long. That was until he pledged himself to Eren Yeager’s cause and clawed his way to the top of command. That must be why you finally noticed him right? He was important and now he could claim the object of his obsession. You were so mean to him but he didn’t care, he had your full attention and he intended to drown in it. Even if that meant he had to beg for it.

“You fucking – god, fuck – please! Fuck me please, I’ll do anything just let me cum!”

“And who’s bitch are you?” you press, cunt throbbing at seeing such an insufferable man reduced to a sniveling mess.

“Yours! I’m your bitch, your slut – just please, ruin me.” 

Satisfied with his desperate pleas you start up again, pounding into him with renewed fervor in a way that makes him squeal. He’s thrown straight back onto the edge, face twisted into a sinful ahegao that makes you clench around nothing. You’re so wet you can feel your slick dripping down your thighs, the constant rub of the base of the toy against your clit almost enough to have you creaming.

“Thank you – oh thank you – ahh ah! AHH! C-cumming! I’m–” Floch nearly goes cross-eyed as he cums, hot seed being pushed up his shaft as he spurts all over his own chest. Some ropes even land on his face in his folded position, painting his cheeks. His whole body is taut, his abs flexing and his cock jerking with every spasm. 

You watch raptly as he comes apart at the seams, fucking him through his orgasm. After a long minute, he finally goes limp and lax, and you let his legs fall apart onto the bed.

You’re breathing so heavily you can hear your heartbeat in your ears, it’s almost deafening as you slow your hips and finally give your body a rest. Floch is in another dimension still, so you take the time to observe him, eyes scanning over your vicious bite marks and hickeys that litter his entire body. He really is beautiful when he’s pliant and fucked out, it was a shame he was the bane of your existence outside this room. You smooth your palms over his shaking legs and slowly pull out of him, his hips jumping involuntarily from the overstimulation. You wriggle out of the harness as soon as you’re able to stand on your jelly legs, stumbling into the bathroom for a damp rag.

The man hasn’t moved a bit when you return but he jerks when the wet rag touches the flesh of his belly, wiping away his many releases from his tummy to between his legs and he squirms but doesn’t object. By the time you reach his face he’s already staring at you, half-lidded and sated as you clean him up. This wasn’t a part of your usual routine. You cuddled after sometimes sure, but real aftercare had been absent from your arrangement until now. You’re not quite sure what to make of the sudden impulse to nurture, knowing it was nothing good. 

You shouldn’t encourage his already blatant delusions. You aren’t lovers, this was for convenience – and because you wanted to put him in his place. But was that even the whole truth anymore or just what you told yourself?

Floch doesn’t seem convinced, that dull blush and smug grin already returning to his face as you dote on him with surprising gentleness. Damn him.