|joudama (stopthatgirl7) wrote in kinkfest,|
@ 2008-07-10 08:08:00
|Current music:||Apocalyptica - Nothing Else Matters|
|Entry tags:||a: stopthatgirl7, f: death note, july 10, p: light/misa|
Role and Duty, Death Note (Light/Misa)
I usually try to post at night so this matches the dates in the west a little better, but I won't be getting home until midnight or close to tonight, so. It's the 10th where I am? ^^;
Title: Role and Duty
Fandom: Death Note
Rating: not worksafe
Warnings: Sex, but of the rather unsexy variety. Also, bukkake.
Word count: 943
Summary: It is his role and his duty, but he will make her as dirty as he feels.
A/N: *buries face in hands* I have lived in Japan too long and have no idea what the correct word for "yokuzai" is in English. I went with "bath pellet," but if any of you know the right word for the things you put in the bath to scent the water, I would love to know, because it's not in my dictionary, and I was ready to just cry because, oh god, my native language, I'm losing my native language.
Prompt: Light/Misa - domestic responsibility - Even though he is the one to initiate, Light cannot help but feel befouled.
Misa is fresh from the bath, her flesh still damp from it and the lingering scent of yuzu from the bath pellets she used to scent the water. Her hair is pulled back, loose strands plastered against her slender neck, her towel wrapped around her with one delicate hand securing it, and Light thinks that, looking at her, he should be stirred.
But he is not.
But more than that, he is aware that he should be, that he should be moved in some way by this, that drives should be impelling him towards her, he puts down his newspaper and rises, moving towards her with a smile that shows a desire that he does not actually feel.
Misa blinks, eyes wide, before she tilts her head downward with false demureness. But she looks up when he is close enough, and tilts her head up for a kiss. He leans down, and puts his lips against hers, and the feeling makes his stomach turn. But instead of pulling back, he pushes closer, flicks his tongue against her lips until they open for him, and she leans against him, her body soft and warm.
"Mmm, you're frisky today," Misa says when she pulled away slightly, her voice pleased and a smile on her lips. Her stance is playful, the towel barely staying in place. Light looks her up and down before meeting her eyes.
"Well, I can't help it," he says, giving her a smile. Misa bounces happily, and lets the towel drop.
"I'm not objecting!" she says with a giggle, and leans into him, raising her hands to his head, bringing his face to hers for a kiss.
He kisses her, his hands against the damp cool of the skin of her waist, pulling her closer to him, pushing flush against her. She grinds a little, against him, and he can feel the beginnings of a physical reaction. His body reacts even as he feels a clinical kind of distance merged with disgust. He does not like Misa, has never liked this fool with no thoughts other than that of getting Kira, and hates that he is bound to her. But bound he is, and he knows that to make use of her he must continue this façade.
Everything is a façade and this is but one more aspect of it, and he will not let this slip.
And so he groans against her neck, pulling her closer, when his own desire is to push her away. And so he instead runs his hands against her skin, upwards until her breasts are cupped by his hands, fingers against her nipples and feeling them grow harder, stand, and Misa's breathing grow ragged; seeing how a flush begins to redden Misa's pale skin.
He breaks away, taking her hand and tugging her towards their bedroom. He pushes her to the bed as he begins taking off his clothes, and she watches him with hungry eyes, her breathing light and quick, and her body moving as if she isn't aware of the fine undulations and quivering.
He joins her on the bed and she reaches for him, warm and accepting, thrumming with something he himself does not feel.
He wants this over quickly, and yet he knows that that is not the way this is played. And so he touches her, and so he takes the time and does this properly, fingers rubbing against her clitoris until she is gasping, fingers slipping inside her slippery warmth, and he feels disgusted at it, at the mucous his fingers are covered with as they move inside her and at how she writhes against him, gasping and making sharp, high-pitched cries. And when she cries out for him to do it, to put it in her and it's ok, he can come inside her this week, it's safe, he withdraws his fingers and lines himself up, then slides into her slowly. She makes a low, breathy sound, and tightens around him as her eyes slide shut.
Sexual intercourse is a dirty thing, base and all too physical for Light's taste. Yes, it is undeniably pleasant when done, but Light would just as soon not do it; spend his time on more cerebral pursuits and plans. This is low and this is base; it is beneath him and it is disgusting.
And he has no choice.
He hates her all the more for it.
And so when he is about to come, when he is close, he pulls out--he may have to rut with her, but he will not produce a child with her--and ejaculates over her, on her, making her as dirty as he feels.
He is disgusted, but he will not show it. Instead he quickly reaches for tissue, apologizing for the mess, as he knows he should, instead of leaving it like he wants.
"I told you it was OK this week. You could have come inside me," Misa says with a pout.
He puts on a smile, perfectly honed, that shows none of what he feels behind his eyes. "Better safe than sorry, Misa. You're still filming, and if you got pregnant..."
She pouts again. "I know. But...I know," she says, and heaves a melodramatic smile before her face lights up. "You look after me so well!" she finishes, and kisses his cheek, the corners of her lips brushing his. "I'm gonna have another quick shower. I won't be long."
He nods, and she gets up and heads to the bathroom. And when she is gone, when the door is safely shut, he allows his disgust to show, and he bites down the bile.