It's not stalking when he's a ghost: smut edition

[lovesickkiller]

[[Continued from this thread. Warnings for sexual content and general horribleness.]]

There's still something distinctly off about this, and Lazarus can't articulate what it is even though he feels it squirming in the pit of his stomach like a sick, wasting parasite. From the outside, this looks like two people who agreed to be together doing things that dating couples do with each other, but it feels like there's weight attached to this, a shift in the power balance.

Even stranger, it almost seems like Misa finds something about atoning natural, going hand in hand with seduction. Is this new, along with her deep attraction to Light Yagami?

The wind shudders in his chest as he exhales. He's already responding to her fingers at the button on his jeans, and it makes him wonder if he's also fucked up for seeing this as something that can conceivably happen following the unsettling revelations of the evening.

"Do you believe me?" she asks quietly, unzipping his jeans. There is no way her intentions are anything but abundantly clear now; she can't tell what Lazarus is thinking, but he seems open to letting her do this.

Comments

[lovesickkiller]

Misa shows no sign of slowing down, plunging him in as deeply as her body will allow with each thrust. It isn't at all pleasant on her end, and she doesn't want it to be; she is not adept at this, and she holds up her inexperience as proof of how far she will go for him. Only Lazarus gets to fuck her throat raw. That proves her dedication to him, doesn't it?

Later she will have time to think long and hard about how healthy any of this is, but in the moment the only thought on her mind is how best to make Lazarus come. She continues playing with him, softer motions with her hands to contrast the reckless pace her mouth has set. Two fingers slide down to stimulate his perineum, seeking to elicit an orgasm that is every bit as intense as it is quick.

[numberedshepherd]

Though he doubts very much that Misa wants to hear about this, now or ever, he actually is very adept at performing oral sex on men. Steady pressure, building in speed and intensity, imitating sex while bringing something new and unexpected to the experience, dexterity and detail that no other orifice can emulate. But even if she has the finesse of a butcher as she takes him in to the point of gagging, rough and dedicated and intensely erotic.

He exhales harshly, the sound tinged with a ragged and desperate vocalization as she fondles sensitive, often-overlooked areas of his anatomy. Her intentions are clear by this point, and he actions are not those of someone trying to preserve the stamina of a partner for a second act. She's going for the kill, and the more he tenses and involuntarily jerks and quivers, the less she relents. He starts to stammer a warning, at a point where he couldn't stop it if he wanted to, but his climax is strong and sudden, matching the the desperate, violent tone of the encounter as a whole.

[lovesickkiller]

Misa doesn't understand the warning until it is all but useless; what he was trying to say clicks into place as he climaxes in her mouth and she is swallowing, swallowing, swallowing. The moment seems to stretch on forever. Then she is abruptly pulling back, sucking in a quick breath, coughing, panting for air. Her eyes land on his knee and stay focused there as she regains her breath, absently wiping their mingled fluids from her lips and chin with the back of one hand. It comes back tinged slightly red; her lipstick is everywhere but her lips.

It feels like she should say something. Nothing comes to mind. Misa chances a peek up at Lazarus, staying on the ground by his feet.

[numberedshepherd]

She accommodates the volume of his output well, considering the lack of notice she had to prepare for it. He feels her swallow as his orgasm cascades through his narrow body, emptying his mind and loins alike.

Maybe something else has been drawn out of him, too, because when it's over and she pulling back, spluttering and breathless, he can't raise his head, much less his body. He's lying prone on the mattress like a stunned victim thrown clear of an accident, white still eroding the edges of his vision as he blinks in the afterglow.

When he feels like he's able again, he raises himself on his elbows, staring at his slackening and lipstick-smeared cock and then at Misa's face. There's really not much to say following that, is there? Did she such out his confusion, any potential for anger or second thoughts?

It doesn't really matter. He made up his mind before she got to her knees in front of him.

"I've never had it done like that," he says honestly, also panting. "Are... you OK?"

[lovesickkiller]

"Yeah," she answers, winded and a little disgusted with herself but also pleased with herself. Even more so, when he says that she afforded him a new experience. "I've never... done it like that."

Misa remains where she is, eyes glancing over his now flaccid penis and the mess she has made. She doesn't even want to think about what her face must look like right now. What she is waiting for, permission or an invitation to stand, she has no idea. But she feels rooted to the spot, vaguely nauseous from all the stimulation and forced repression of her gag reflex.

"Was it good?"

[numberedshepherd]

He pants shallowly, his body unwound and unguarded as she just stays there, waiting for... what?

She doesn't look OK. Maybe it's the red, smeared around her lips and around his softening, slick erection, but none of this actually looks OK.

Though he's sleepy, he sits up, nudging and tugging at her shoulder.

"It was good," he confirms. "Please get up, Misa."

[lovesickkiller]

"Coming, coming," she mutters, responding to his nudging by joining him on the bed and all but sitting on top of him. Personal space does not seem high on her list of priorities at the moment. "I'm glad it was good."

She leans in, as if considering kissing him, then seems to decide against it. "I guess we should clean up."

[numberedshepherd]

He can't help to reflect on the vulgar irony that she is not coming, that he had no opportunity to work her over and give her the same pleasure she gave him. It feels unbalanced and off, and he starts to draw his knees toward his chest as she climbs onto the bed next to him.

Well, fuck. It's off, and odd, but she's not the one making it that way. He owes her, at least, some semblance of gratitude and normalcy, doesn't he?

Instead of making a move to immediately find something to clean up with, he closes the distance between himself and the considered but abandoned kiss, pressing his lips against hers. Misa's taste mingles with his own, and he deepens it.

[lovesickkiller]

Misa stiffens, surprised when Lazarus takes the initiative to kiss her, but she soon softens into it. If he doesn't mind the taste of his semen lingering on her tongue, she won't argue. The kiss is nice, reassuring in it's normality. It feels like assurance that they will be okay.

She raises a hand to touch his cheek, gentle and tentative after the near-violence of her blowjob.

[numberedshepherd]

It does feel like some kind of assurance. Salt and saliva aren't so terrible a combination, and if Misa can stand the taste to bring him pleasure, he can stand it to give her that assurance. He's not even worried about the waxy pigment of the lipstick getting on his face; they're not trying to impress anyone right now, look like their relationship is rock-solid or enviable, they're just two lost souls looking for some goddamn peace of mind in each other's embrace.

He nudges her down on the mattress, breaking the kiss only when absolutely necessary. "Let me..." he coaxes, reaching a hand under her skirt. "It's my turn."

[lovesickkiller]

Misa follows his cues, lying on her back despite not knowing quite what he has planned. When he breaks the kiss to make his intentions clear, she can't help a shy smile spreading across her face. This isn't how she planned for this to go, but... it's alright, isn't it?

"I wanted to do something for you," she says, not quite a protest but making it clear she did not expect reciprocity all the same. "But, if you want to..."

[numberedshepherd]

The smile almost puts the uneasiness from earlier out of his mind. Misa's slight bashfulness is a drastic departure from the manic, persistent tone of a few minutes before, and, comfortingly, it's more like the encounters he's used to.

He nods, pushing her skirt up around her waist and pulling at the soft cotton of her underwear. "We're... in a relationship, and that means a give and take, right...?"

[lovesickkiller]

"Right," Misa breathes, lifting her hips to assist him. She swallows before continuing, throat still sore even as the flash of nausea starts to subside. "But, you're not the one that needs to prove anything, or make up for anything..."

[numberedshepherd]

Lazarus shakes his head briskly, mouth already pressed against Misa's cleft. "Mm, no..." he says, pulling away for a moment. "But it shouldn't be about that. I just want to do this..."

He takes her clit in his mouth, swirling his tongue over it as he strokes a hand along her thigh.

[lovesickkiller]

"Ah-!" Misa can't help a surprised cry as he suddenly toys with her clit. "If- if you want to do it-" she trails off, breathing noisily. "I... love it when you do that, so-"

Words are failing her. What started as a desperate bid for redemption has somehow become Lazarus lapping at her most intimate parts, and Misa still doesn't quite feel like she deserves this but who is she to say no? She lets her head fall back against the bed, giving up on coherence. Talking can happen again later.