Faye (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
said_scarlett) wrote2007-01-04 05:08 pm
said_scarlett) wrote2007-01-04 05:08 pm
The Madness of Misora Naomi; Naomi/Light; NC-17
Title: The Madness of Misora Naomi
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing: Naomi/Light
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Up to episode 8
Warnings: Femme-dom, erotic asphyxiation
Word Count: 1759
Author's Notes: AU idea where Light never discovered Naomi's identity.
Summary: She knew who he was. She knew what he'd done. And the idea of his life in her hands was the only thing that made her feel alive...
Naomi was no fool. She knew what this man - no, this boy - was. She knew what he’d done, what he did. But she had no proof. She’d gotten as close to him as she could, despite how it sickened her. But still she had no proof. Not one hint of evidence that would do her any could.
She could kill him herself. The thought had crossed her mind again and again and again. He allowed himself to be vulnerable in her presence. Only for a few moments, but it was enough. He was too cocky, too self assured. He placed his life in her hands not because he trusted her, but because he was too certain of himself and his supposed power over her.
She wanted to see him dead, she wanted to see him punished, but she couldn’t. That wasn’t justice. She wasn’t a fool, to take the law into her own hands and kill a college student with her bare hands, unable to prove that he was Kira.
She hated him. She hated everything about him. The way he smiled, so smug and confident. She hated the way he watched her, eyes narrowed and almost laughing. He thought she had no idea. He thought he’d fooled her. People were a game to him. And she hated the way he touched her. What did he think, when he pulled her against him? Was he reveling in the fact he was bedding the woman of a man he’d killed?
She knew she shouldn’t think about it. But she always thought about it. Her thoughts were dark, bordering on twisted. She tried to stop them, to control them, but she couldn’t.
The bastard had dragged her down into his madness.
“Maki? You‘ve hardly said anything all evening. Something the matter?”
“No.” Naomi shook her head. He had that look. The one she hated the most. He could smile all he wanted but his eyes were always cold.
“You look worried.”
“Just tired.” How long could she keep this up?
The television was on in the background. A news station. She always put the news station on, hoping to catch him at something. But she never did.
“There’s soda in the cabinet.”
“No, thank you.”
“I’m boring you.” He stood, still smiling. He always, always smiled. She only shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. He sat beside her. She could feel him. He put an arm around her and it took all her strength not to cringe. But this was when he gave her power over him.
“Here,” Naomi said, softly. She reached up and undid his tie, her head lowered. He thought her meek and submissive. She pulled away the length of cloth, letting it slide slowly against the skin of his neck. She liked this control. She liked knowing what she could do to him, if she had less restraint. The tie was loose around his neck now. She could tighten it. But she took it between her teeth and pulled it away, not looking at his face. She drew the tie along her teeth, sliding it between them. She knew he was watching.
“Lie down,” she said, her voice still soft. She watched him as he lay back, so trusting. He folded his hands behind his head. Naomi smiled, as fake and bright as he did. She bent and pulled off one of her stockings, lifting her leg to make a show of it. She wore thigh highs, black ones. He liked stockings on women. He was very particular.
Once her stockings were off, Naomi turned and moved, straddling his hips. She held the stockings in her hands, stretching them out. He just laid there and watched. He always did. Not because he enjoyed being submissive but because he enjoyed being pleasured.
Naomi took the stockings between her teeth, holding them there. She stretched out over him, running her hands along his chest and up to his wrists. She pulled his hands out from under his head, pulled them up so his arms were stretched above his head. She took the stockings and wrapped one around each wrist.
“What are you doing, Maki?” There was no hint of fear in his voice. There was no hint of anything.
“A game,” Naomi said. “You like games, don’t you Light?”
She tied the stockings to the bedposts, tying Light to the bed. He was completely at her mercy now. She liked it that way. She wouldn’t kill him, but she could give herself the opportunity. That was enough for her. She was treading dangerous ground, but she didn’t care. She had nothing left to lose.
“Just lay still,” she said, moving down to kiss his neck. To make him comfortable. She didn’t focus on what she was doing, didn’t pay any attention. She kissed him automatically, tracing a line down to the collar of his shirt. She popped the buttons open with her teeth. She liked to use her teeth.
He did as he was told. He lay still beneath her while she kissed and licked along his skin. He was in her power now.
She pulled down the zipper of his trousers with her teeth. She could feel his erection. He wanted her. It was twisted. She didn’t want him but she wanted this power. She turned her head away from the sign of his arousal, moving back up his body once it was exposed.
This was the most control she’d ever had over him. That excited her. She lifted her skirt and straddled him once more, hardly even feeling it. It was as though she were out of her body, watching. He was still smiling, shirt open and hair mussed. He was as relaxed as she ever saw him. Good.
“Do you like it?” she asked, wetting her lips as she rode him slowly.
“It’s different,” he said, tugging lightly at the bonds and laughing. “I always thought this was done with silk scarves.”
“I don’t own any scarves.” Naomi leaned forward, letting her hair fall over her face and brush against his cheeks. She reached for the discarded tie, slipping it beneath his head.
“Perhaps I’ll buy you some. And the tie…?”
“Just enjoy it.”
He was always calm. Even now, inside of her, he was calm and collected as though they were having lunch. His control was iron. Naomi couldn’t believe it. She moved her hips, working him over hard, watching carefully for his reaction. His eyelids lowered and his breathing grew shallow. There!
Naomi took the ends of the tie and crossed them before pulling them tight, wrapping the fabric around his neck. Light’s eyes flew open and he pulled at the bonds in earnest now. Naomi dropped the tie, cocking her head.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, a flash of anger across his features.
“It’s just a game,” Naomi said, shrugging. “Erotic asphyxiation. You reduce the flow of oxygen to the brain, to enhance the pleasure of climax.” She bit her lower lip, fighting an internal war with herself. “I used to do it with my fiancé. I know when to stop. I wouldn’t try and hurt you, Light. “
“I don’t know if I like this game, Maki.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have surprised you like that.” But she couldn’t help it. And she hadn’t wanted to stop. “Here. Just let me try… you might like it. Don‘t you trust me?”
Naomi took up the tie again and slowly, slowly pulled it snug against Light’s neck. Not tight enough to cut off air, just tight enough to be felt. She moved on top of him, thrusting her breasts out as she kept a firm grip on the tie. She wanted to choke the life out of him. She wanted him to fear her again, like he had for that one moment when she first started choking him.
She told him it was safe. It wasn’t safe. She’d investigated dozens of supposed homicides that had been nothing more than a miscalculation in pressure and timing during breath play. There was a reason couples were supposed to use a safe word. But he didn’t need to know that.
Tighter, just a little tighter, enough to make it hard to breathe. Naomi held the tie carefully, teeth clenched together tightly. Light’s breathing was rapid and shallow now, his eyes closed as he struggled for deeper breaths. Naomi smiled, watching him gasp quietly beneath her. This was control. This was power. His life was hers. Even if she didn’t choke the breath from him, his life was still hers then and there. It was a dangerous, dangerous line. Maybe she was as mad as he was, maybe she had lost herself to her own form of dementia. But she didn’t care. She couldn’t do anything other than this.
She loosened the tie to let him get a breath and then tightened it again, sharply, cutting off his air. He jerked underneath her, arms straining against the stockings that held him to the bed. Naomi shifted her hips, riding him hard, tugging the tie tighter and tighter and then he was making hoarse noises in his throat and kicking his legs before finally climaxing.
Naomi let go of the tie when he came, forcing her fingers to unclench. She brushed back a bit of his hair, taking in the redness of his face and the wild look in his eyes. Perfect.
“I told you I wouldn’t hurt you,” Naomi said, quietly. She leaned down, forehead resting against Light’s.
“That was… interesting,” Light said, his voice strained. But calm once more. His face was a collected mask once more, even red from loss of air. Naomi reached up and untied him, and he ran his fingers through her hair. She hated when he touched her like a lover. Naomi smiled, but it never really touched her eyes. He had liked it. She had seen it, felt it. He’d let her do it again.
“Next time I promise I’ll use scarves,” she teased. He was hers now. Maybe she would kill him, someday, if she couldn’t find the proof she was so desperate for. But his life was hers. He’d made a mistake.
“I like the sound of that. But next time…” Light went on, smiling, “why don’t we take turns?”
Fandom: Death Note
Pairing: Naomi/Light
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Up to episode 8
Warnings: Femme-dom, erotic asphyxiation
Word Count: 1759
Author's Notes: AU idea where Light never discovered Naomi's identity.
Summary: She knew who he was. She knew what he'd done. And the idea of his life in her hands was the only thing that made her feel alive...
Naomi was no fool. She knew what this man - no, this boy - was. She knew what he’d done, what he did. But she had no proof. She’d gotten as close to him as she could, despite how it sickened her. But still she had no proof. Not one hint of evidence that would do her any could.
She could kill him herself. The thought had crossed her mind again and again and again. He allowed himself to be vulnerable in her presence. Only for a few moments, but it was enough. He was too cocky, too self assured. He placed his life in her hands not because he trusted her, but because he was too certain of himself and his supposed power over her.
She wanted to see him dead, she wanted to see him punished, but she couldn’t. That wasn’t justice. She wasn’t a fool, to take the law into her own hands and kill a college student with her bare hands, unable to prove that he was Kira.
She hated him. She hated everything about him. The way he smiled, so smug and confident. She hated the way he watched her, eyes narrowed and almost laughing. He thought she had no idea. He thought he’d fooled her. People were a game to him. And she hated the way he touched her. What did he think, when he pulled her against him? Was he reveling in the fact he was bedding the woman of a man he’d killed?
She knew she shouldn’t think about it. But she always thought about it. Her thoughts were dark, bordering on twisted. She tried to stop them, to control them, but she couldn’t.
The bastard had dragged her down into his madness.
“Maki? You‘ve hardly said anything all evening. Something the matter?”
“No.” Naomi shook her head. He had that look. The one she hated the most. He could smile all he wanted but his eyes were always cold.
“You look worried.”
“Just tired.” How long could she keep this up?
The television was on in the background. A news station. She always put the news station on, hoping to catch him at something. But she never did.
“There’s soda in the cabinet.”
“No, thank you.”
“I’m boring you.” He stood, still smiling. He always, always smiled. She only shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. He sat beside her. She could feel him. He put an arm around her and it took all her strength not to cringe. But this was when he gave her power over him.
“Here,” Naomi said, softly. She reached up and undid his tie, her head lowered. He thought her meek and submissive. She pulled away the length of cloth, letting it slide slowly against the skin of his neck. She liked this control. She liked knowing what she could do to him, if she had less restraint. The tie was loose around his neck now. She could tighten it. But she took it between her teeth and pulled it away, not looking at his face. She drew the tie along her teeth, sliding it between them. She knew he was watching.
“Lie down,” she said, her voice still soft. She watched him as he lay back, so trusting. He folded his hands behind his head. Naomi smiled, as fake and bright as he did. She bent and pulled off one of her stockings, lifting her leg to make a show of it. She wore thigh highs, black ones. He liked stockings on women. He was very particular.
Once her stockings were off, Naomi turned and moved, straddling his hips. She held the stockings in her hands, stretching them out. He just laid there and watched. He always did. Not because he enjoyed being submissive but because he enjoyed being pleasured.
Naomi took the stockings between her teeth, holding them there. She stretched out over him, running her hands along his chest and up to his wrists. She pulled his hands out from under his head, pulled them up so his arms were stretched above his head. She took the stockings and wrapped one around each wrist.
“What are you doing, Maki?” There was no hint of fear in his voice. There was no hint of anything.
“A game,” Naomi said. “You like games, don’t you Light?”
She tied the stockings to the bedposts, tying Light to the bed. He was completely at her mercy now. She liked it that way. She wouldn’t kill him, but she could give herself the opportunity. That was enough for her. She was treading dangerous ground, but she didn’t care. She had nothing left to lose.
“Just lay still,” she said, moving down to kiss his neck. To make him comfortable. She didn’t focus on what she was doing, didn’t pay any attention. She kissed him automatically, tracing a line down to the collar of his shirt. She popped the buttons open with her teeth. She liked to use her teeth.
He did as he was told. He lay still beneath her while she kissed and licked along his skin. He was in her power now.
She pulled down the zipper of his trousers with her teeth. She could feel his erection. He wanted her. It was twisted. She didn’t want him but she wanted this power. She turned her head away from the sign of his arousal, moving back up his body once it was exposed.
This was the most control she’d ever had over him. That excited her. She lifted her skirt and straddled him once more, hardly even feeling it. It was as though she were out of her body, watching. He was still smiling, shirt open and hair mussed. He was as relaxed as she ever saw him. Good.
“Do you like it?” she asked, wetting her lips as she rode him slowly.
“It’s different,” he said, tugging lightly at the bonds and laughing. “I always thought this was done with silk scarves.”
“I don’t own any scarves.” Naomi leaned forward, letting her hair fall over her face and brush against his cheeks. She reached for the discarded tie, slipping it beneath his head.
“Perhaps I’ll buy you some. And the tie…?”
“Just enjoy it.”
He was always calm. Even now, inside of her, he was calm and collected as though they were having lunch. His control was iron. Naomi couldn’t believe it. She moved her hips, working him over hard, watching carefully for his reaction. His eyelids lowered and his breathing grew shallow. There!
Naomi took the ends of the tie and crossed them before pulling them tight, wrapping the fabric around his neck. Light’s eyes flew open and he pulled at the bonds in earnest now. Naomi dropped the tie, cocking her head.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, a flash of anger across his features.
“It’s just a game,” Naomi said, shrugging. “Erotic asphyxiation. You reduce the flow of oxygen to the brain, to enhance the pleasure of climax.” She bit her lower lip, fighting an internal war with herself. “I used to do it with my fiancé. I know when to stop. I wouldn’t try and hurt you, Light. “
“I don’t know if I like this game, Maki.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have surprised you like that.” But she couldn’t help it. And she hadn’t wanted to stop. “Here. Just let me try… you might like it. Don‘t you trust me?”
Naomi took up the tie again and slowly, slowly pulled it snug against Light’s neck. Not tight enough to cut off air, just tight enough to be felt. She moved on top of him, thrusting her breasts out as she kept a firm grip on the tie. She wanted to choke the life out of him. She wanted him to fear her again, like he had for that one moment when she first started choking him.
She told him it was safe. It wasn’t safe. She’d investigated dozens of supposed homicides that had been nothing more than a miscalculation in pressure and timing during breath play. There was a reason couples were supposed to use a safe word. But he didn’t need to know that.
Tighter, just a little tighter, enough to make it hard to breathe. Naomi held the tie carefully, teeth clenched together tightly. Light’s breathing was rapid and shallow now, his eyes closed as he struggled for deeper breaths. Naomi smiled, watching him gasp quietly beneath her. This was control. This was power. His life was hers. Even if she didn’t choke the breath from him, his life was still hers then and there. It was a dangerous, dangerous line. Maybe she was as mad as he was, maybe she had lost herself to her own form of dementia. But she didn’t care. She couldn’t do anything other than this.
She loosened the tie to let him get a breath and then tightened it again, sharply, cutting off his air. He jerked underneath her, arms straining against the stockings that held him to the bed. Naomi shifted her hips, riding him hard, tugging the tie tighter and tighter and then he was making hoarse noises in his throat and kicking his legs before finally climaxing.
Naomi let go of the tie when he came, forcing her fingers to unclench. She brushed back a bit of his hair, taking in the redness of his face and the wild look in his eyes. Perfect.
“I told you I wouldn’t hurt you,” Naomi said, quietly. She leaned down, forehead resting against Light’s.
“That was… interesting,” Light said, his voice strained. But calm once more. His face was a collected mask once more, even red from loss of air. Naomi reached up and untied him, and he ran his fingers through her hair. She hated when he touched her like a lover. Naomi smiled, but it never really touched her eyes. He had liked it. She had seen it, felt it. He’d let her do it again.
“Next time I promise I’ll use scarves,” she teased. He was hers now. Maybe she would kill him, someday, if she couldn’t find the proof she was so desperate for. But his life was hers. He’d made a mistake.
“I like the sound of that. But next time…” Light went on, smiling, “why don’t we take turns?”