InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I'm Duck. It's a nickname. "

inmyownworld (inmyownworld) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-05-14 16:23:00

Current music:	Ben Folds- "The Luckiest"
Entry tags:	!complete, day 07, l lawliet, laura moon, location: pharmacy/liquor store

And In a White Sea of Eyes, I See One Pair That I Recognize And I Know...
Who: L Lawliet and Laura Moon
What: Snowed in equals things happen.
Where: The snowbound drug store.
When: Day 7, morning
Rating/Warnings: R for sexuality, ~~necrophilic overtones~~ Full-blown necrophilia. Batten down the hatches if you're squeamish.
Status: Complete

Things were different that morning. L woke stiffly on the makeshift bed in the corner, cobbled together with various things he had found in the thrift shop. He still used Laura's cardigan to rest his head on; though he had tried to give it back to her, she always insisted that he use it that way.

Stretching, he shuffled towards the door, pushing it open... except that it wouldn't budge. Puzzled, he rammed his shoulder against it, wondering if it was jammed... but to no avail. Had Bob or Light locked him in? Just then, he noticed that the darkness he'd presumed came with early morning was actually due to heavily packed snow piled up around the windows.

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spitandviolets
2009-06-03 02:28 am UTC (link)

Nervous was not something that she could clearly remember. She wished that she could. It lead to moments of giddy anticipation, and it was a good warning mechanism. Still, all she could do was hope that his nerves would fade. Hopefully her careful attention to detail was enough to make him relax. She would not have been wholly alarmed, however, if he had passed out in the middle of it all. She was very understanding and compassionate, and she was a person who was good to have around in the face of a crisis. Fainting during sex counted as a crisis, though it was more so for him than for her. She would have been disappointed, but it would have been excusable.

The fact that his breathing slowed seemed unusual to her. His pulse was pounding, and his body was doing some serious work. Did he not need more oxygen? Then again, it was important to stay calm for a guy. She had never just lost it, but she had been with guys who had. Honestly, L was lasting far longer than some men she had known biblicaly over the years. There was one gentleman who had been finished the moment that she'd unzipped his pants. That had been an inconvenient mess; her hair hadn't felt quite right for several days. There was also the time that he had called it a night when she had sat in his lap. This was going very, very well, all things considered. He was performing admirably.

"Yes," she hissed, "that's better." The friction of his skin, as warm as the sun to her, against her own was wonderfully stimulating. The choice was made for him when she sat up, her hips resting squarely against his. If he wanted it differently, he was free to adjust her as necessary. After all, even he could have lifted her, and even from this position. Tilting her head back, she gripped at her thighs, holding onto them as she let him dictate the flow of her movements. Part of her was worried that she was taking advantage of him somehow; she had to keep reminding herself that he wasn't so young. He chose to be there, sharing himself with her. She had not taken anything, and she never would. The option would always be his. Part of her longed for the Laura Moon who would take the initiative, who would attempt, on a nearly daily basis, to seduce him. Still, this was better. She was there for him, to love him and to keep him safe.

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