It's been ten years since I posted smut (I've been writing plenty, just never posting it). I wasn't sure if I should post this here, but it's not explicit.
Notes: femdom, dry humping.
The concern she feels as his back hits the desk and his neck overextends is very much in the back of her mind. She crawls – slinks – on top of him, settling astride his legs.
"Levi," she says, and he drags his head up to look her in the eye, "say it."
He scowls at her and reaches up. She bats his hands away with a raised eyebrow, shifting forward a bit more. Her clothed knees sit precariously on the edge of the desk, feeling ready to slip at any moment. She clenches her thighs over his hips, inching forward until she feels his hard dick right between her legs.
He lets out a breath through his nose. "Mikasa –" But she leans over to press a finger to his lips to stop him.
"No," she says. "That's not what I want to hear." He reaches for her again and she catches him by the wrists without looking away from his face. "Say it."
She rocks her hips forward, the press of the seam of her pants forcing a soft noise from the back of her throat. His face remains bland but she feels him twitch underneath her. A small smile curves over her lips.
"One word," she says. He pulls his wrists free; a strategic grind down is not enough to distract him from reaching for the front of her shirt and wrenching it open. The buttons fly. She stares down at him. The next movement of her hips is more of a thrust, and he breaks eye contact as his head tips back again. "You'll pay for that."
She shrugs the shirt off her shoulders but doesn't remove it further. The press of the skin of their chests together leads to a groan echoing between them. She rolls her hips again, setting a rhythm. When her knee slips, his hand shoots out to grab her thigh. His fingers dig in as she watches his throat bob with a swallow. She follows the motion with a ghosting of her lips over the stretched skin. His fingers clench.
"What?" She draws away to look down at him with hooded eyes. He doesn't meet her gaze. "Say it or I won't keep going." The motion of her hips doesn't stop, but she's sure he knows what she means.
"Mikasa, ah –" She slows the rhythm to slowly drag herself along the length of him. A shiver skitters down her spine. She echoes him. "Just – fuck me already."
She's so close already that thought escapes her for a moment. His fingers sink in farther, so much more that she knows she'll have bruises the next day.
"That's not what I want to hear," she says, eyes closed. He moans, low in his throat, so deep and desperate. She sits up, grinding down on him as the orgasm washes over her. Her hips rock with each aftershock. She feels him twitch underneath her and bites her lip.
She hears a mumble and opens her eyes. He's staring up at her with such dark eyes.
"I'm sorry," she says, "what was that?" She pulls her shirt up on her shoulders: an empty threat.
"Please." The corner of her mouth tilts up into a smirk.
"Good boy," she murmurs back, tossing her shirt to the floor and reaching to unbutton her pants.
