Chapter Text
After their argument, L had worried that Misa would not let him out of her sight, even to work on the case, but when he told her that he wanted to go inform Yagami of what was to happen, she let him leave with only a token protest (after, of course, insisting he promise one more time not to go anywhere near Light). She seemed just as exhausted by her anger as he was. Rem, of course, insisted on staying by her side, even when L pointed out that her absence would be suspicious.
So he went alone to the floor where Yagami had spent the night. As expected, the older man was already awake and fully dressed—and by the dishes in the sink, L could see he had used the groceries Watari had brought up to make himself breakfast and coffee.
“There are some things that I need to tell you,” L began, not seeing a point in beating around the bush now. “You are not going to be happy about them, but you should know.”
As expected, Yagami’s eyes hardened. It was clear that he had very little remaining faith in L. “What is it?”
“Last night, I returned to Namikawa and offered him a deal,” L said, watching Yagami’s suspicion turn immediately to anger. “In exchange for testing the notebook, he will be allowed to go free.”
“Ryuuzaki, you cannot—”
“I already did,” L interrupted, holding up a hand. “You can save your moral outrage—it is of no interest to me. Last night, Namikawa wrote on a page of the notebook the name of his collaborator, Takeshi Ooi, along with a manner of death prescribed by myself. The time of death will be today, in,” he checked his watch, “one hour and forty-seven minutes. You are invited to witness it in order to confirm the power of the notebook. I will also show you video footage of Namikawa writing the name according to my instructions. If he does not die in thirteen days, he will be released.”
Of course, he had promised to remove Yagami’s ownership of the death note before then, which meant that he would lose his memories, but a recorded statement from Yagami confirming that he had witnessed the event should suffice, especially in conjunction with the recording of the death itself. He could bring in Mogi or Aizawa as an additional witness, but he’d already have Wedy and one of his hired mercenaries in the room. It was best not to introduce anyone else not under his direct control, especially as they might try to insist on joining for the excursion to retrieve the second notebook. That would be complicated enough as it was.
“You are still trying to prove that Light is Kira,” Yagami said, as L had known he would. “I cannot believe—”
“I have something you might like to see,” L interrupted again, opening his laptop. There were three videos open, and he began playing the first.
In the video, Rem was visible in the sitting area of L’s quarters—he was lucky, he thought, that she had not insisted on staying in his bedroom with Misa while she slept. “You see,” he began, “that Rem is visible over the cameras. Last night, she was in the living area on my floor while I spoke to Namikawa.”
“Where is she now?”
“Resting,” L said shortly, pausing the video, and clicked over to the next. It showed every angle he had on Namikawa’s old cell, making it clear that the only people in the room were Namikawa and L himself. They watched L instruct Namikawa, and the latter man begin to write on the notebook page.
This served a dual purpose. First, of course, it was evidence that Namikawa had written the name, just as he had said. Yagami looked very unhappy with this, but he didn’t say anything, having apparently decided that shaming L was a lost cause.
“As you see,” L began, “when Namikawa first touched the notebook paper, there was no reaction. This is because Rem was not present in the room. When a person touches the death note, or a piece of it, they do not seem to react unless they see the shinigami.”
“What’s your point?” Yagami demanded, staring at him as though he thought this was too obvious to be worth stating.
L opened the third video. It showed himself standing alone in the sitting area of Light’s floor. As they watched, the L in the video held up a piece of notebook paper, tore off a small fragment, and placed it onto a strip of duct tape.
The video skipped ahead, and Yagami jerked at the sight of his own son sitting bare-chested and restrained on the sofa. “What is—”
“Oh, just be quiet and watch,” L snapped, losing his temper. Yagami shot him a poisonous glare, but did as he said.
They watched together as L slapped the duct tape onto Light’s arm. The other camera views showed every angle on the empty room, making Rem’s absence clear—and, just to further cover his bases, another view showed Rem floating alone on L’s floor. All of this, he hoped, made it clear that there was no reason, none at all, for Light to begin to scream.
Beside L, Yagami sucked in a sharp breath.
He was actually shaken enough, thankfully, to keep his mouth shut for most of the rest of the video, watching in wide-eyed silence as L interrogated his son. The only time he seemed about to say something was when L threatened to torture him, but he’d only gotten as far as opening his mouth before L snapped, “Calm down—I was bluffing.”
He wasn’t, of course. But Yagami didn’t need to know that.
When the video ended—cut off before L took the needle from his pocket—Yagami just sat there in silence. Then he said, “This doesn’t prove anything.” But he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than anything.
“It might not be proof, but it certainly is evidence.”
“You might have—done something to him. To make him react that way. Like he said. And you threatened him. Who says he wasn’t just telling you whatever was necessary to keep you from hurting him?”
L barely kept himself from rolling his eyes. “You are cordially invited to join us in retrieving the second notebook. If Light is able to lead us to it, I don’t think that even you can continue to deny his guilt. Actually, you should be the one to place the death note paper back into contact with his skin—that way, you can see for yourself whether he reacts. Of course, we don’t know for sure that he will react the same way the second time, but if it was a response to having his memories returned, I suspect he might.”
“And if he can’t lead us to the notebook, because he never knew where it was?”
Then he would restrain Yagami and torture the information out of Light.
“Then we will try to find it without his help.”
He considered telling Yagami that Rem had admitted that Light was Kira, but he decided he’d prefer to avoid a situation in which Yagami interrogated Rem—who knew what she might let slip. She didn’t seem all that strategic of a thinker. Besides, he was still working out how to provide Misa an alibi.
“If—when—if Namikawa dies, you will release Light. And Miss Amane.”
“I will.”
Yagami stared at him for a long time, and L thought he could see the police chief struggling with his desire to believe in his son’s innocence, his determination to be fair and unbiased, and, above all, his disinclination to believe whatever L told him.
This final sentiment was confirmed when Yagami said, “Your methods are despicable. You are despicable. If I had any other option, I would never work with you.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” L shut his laptop, getting to his feet. “Now, would you like to join me in witnessing the death of Takeshi Ooi, or do you lack the stomach for it?”
Yagami’s determination to see the case through to the end won out, and though he looked sick, he joined L, Wedy, and L’s hired man in entering Ooi’s cell at the required time. He even tried to gently explain to Ooi that he was about to die, and that he was very sorry, but there was nothing he could do. This, of course, only sparked a predictable panic in the prisoner, who thrashed in his restraints and screamed until the designated time arrived and his programming took over.
Funny, the cruelty inherent in Yagami’s attempt at kindness.
When Ooi was dead, Yagami was sick, vomiting in the corner of the cell. Then, hands on his knees, hair hanging in his face, he looked up at L with eyes of blazing hatred. “You’re inhuman,” he said. “To kill him is one thing, but to make him… Have you no respect for the value of a human life?”
L was pretty sure the words omitted were something along the lines of ‘cluck like a chicken.’ “I needed proof that his death was not a coincidence,” he said blandly. “That meant having him perform actions that he would never normally carry out.”
“Fucking psychopath.”
L ignored that, though he noted inwardly that Yagami must be extremely upset if he were using such language. “We will leave to retrieve the second notebook in… two hours,” he said. That would give him and Watari time to get everything in order. “I am going to go check on the shinigami.”
By which he meant, check on Misa, whom he did not want to leave alone for too long. In addition, by returning to her side as quickly as possible, despite not having explicitly promised to, he hoped to win himself some goodwill.
When he entered the bedroom, he found her laying on her stomach in his bed with a magazine in her hands, seemingly fully recovered from her earlier meltdown. Rem was floating nearby, apparently content to simply watch over her, and it struck L all over again how strange it was that such a creature felt love for her. What was it about Misa that captivated everyone so much?
Maybe, he thought, it was how helpless she seemed… at first. It made a person want to protect her, and they only realized too late what she really was.
“Ryuuzaki!” she said, scrambling to sit up with a smile. “Is it already time for you and Rem to leave?”
“Not yet,” he said. “We’re still preparing. I just thought I would see how you are feeling… I missed you.”
It felt like such an obvious manipulation, and yet, Misa smiled. “Aw,” she said. “Come here.”
L climbed up to crouch on the bed beside her. “Is Misa feeling better?”
“Yeah,” she said, then leaned closer, eyes sparkling. Fully recovered, then—not a hint she had just been sobbing and screaming at him a few hours ago. “How much time do you have before you leave?”
“Just under two hours,” L answered. “But I will need to help with the preparations, so I can’t stay long.”
“How long?”
“Just a few minutes.”
Misa frowned, her eyes sharpening, before saying, “Rem, go outside—give us privacy.” As the shinigami phased through the wall, Misa took him by the shoulders and kissed him.
L allowed it, trying to keep the kiss somewhat chaste, because he knew that she was trying to distract him. He really didn’t have time for that, not if he wanted to do everything possible to make sure Light wouldn’t escape during their diversion. Nor did he think he was likely to be easily aroused under these circumstances—particularly with a shinigami just outside the door, likely eavesdropping on them.
But Misa’s tongue pushed against his lips, and her body against his, so that he had to abruptly sit down on the mattress to avoid being pushed over onto his back, catching himself with his hands braced against the bed behind him. Her breasts were pressed to his chest as she draped herself against him, between his spread legs, and her body squirmed on top of his.
“Misa,” he said carefully, pulling back.
“Come on,” she whined, staring into his eyes. One of her hands slipped between them, pressing against his flaccid penis through his jeans. “Misa likes Ryuuzaki. Doesn’t Ryuuzaki like Misa?”
“Very much,” he said “but I only have a minute. It’s very important to make sure Light does not escape today.”
There was a moment of unsettling silence as Misa drew away from him, anger building in her eyes, before it bubbled over into tears that spilled down her cheeks.
Suppressing a sigh, L set a hand on her face, brushing the tears away. “Misa,” he said again, keeping his voice soft and comforting.
“Ryuuzaki hates Misa!” she cried.
“No, Misa, I don’t hate you.”
She went on like she hadn’t even heard him. “Now that Ryuuzaki knows that Misa was Kira, he doesn’t love her anymore! Ryuuzaki is going to dump Misa!”
“I always knew Misa was Kira,” L pointed out. “That never stopped me from wanting you before, so it isn’t any different now.”
Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because Misa sobbed even harder, turning away from him and covering her face, shoulders shaking. L felt annoyed, but he tried to suppress it. He needed to keep Misa happy, especially when he didn’t know how much of their conversation Rem could hear, so he tugged on her shoulder, pulling her around to face him.
“I promise I don’t hate you,” he told her. “Misa is very precious to me. I have a lot going on right now, and it’s very important to me to make sure that nothing goes wrong today, so that I can clear Misa’s name and we can be together.”
“But what if you die?” Misa demanded, seemingly out of nowhere. “What if Light or Ryuk kills you?”
“That’s not going to happen,” L said, speaking to himself as much as to her, but she didn’t stop crying.
“Ryuuzaki is going to die!” Misa shouted. “Ryuuzaki is going to die and Misa won’t even get one last time with him and Ryuuzaki won’t even touch Misa because he hates her!”
They were clearly going around in circles, and logic was having no effect, so L did the only thing he could think to do: he kissed her. He felt very much like a puppet as he did so, so obviously was Misa tugging on his strings, and this less than twenty-four hours after he had learned that he still lived only at her leisure.
Misa’s face was wet with tears, and she still sobbed, but she opened her mouth for his tongue, immediately wrapping herself around him. She pressed forward insistently until L was forced onto his back, and she immediately followed, straddling him and beginning to rock her hips.
L, unfortunately, was not aroused, still preoccupied with the shinigami and everything else that had happened, not to mention all that he still had to prepare. When Misa realized he was soft, she pulled back with a pout.
“I knew it,” she told him. “Ryuuzaki doesn’t want Misa anymore. He’s judging Misa for all the things she did, even though she doesn’t even remember them. He’ll never want to fuck Misa again. Misa should just go away, since no one wants her here.”
L didn’t know how consciously Misa made the threat, but he heard it nonetheless. If Misa left, if she didn’t care for him anymore, then he would be thrown to the whims of Rem. Even if he promised not to arrest Misa, the shinigami might kill him anyway, just to be safe.
He swallowed his pride. “I want you very much, Misa,” he told her. “My mind wants you; my body is just too tired to catch up. I need Misa’s help so that I can be with you the way I want. Can you please help me?”
He didn’t have time for this. But what else could he do? He shouldn’t have come up to see her, should have gone straight to work with Watari instead—but then she probably would have punished him for that. There didn’t seem to be any way to win.
“If Ryuuzaki really wanted Misa, he would be hard already, no matter how tired he was,” Misa complained, but she still complied, letting out a frustrated sigh as she crawled down his body and pulled down his jeans and boxers, taking his soft penis in her hand and licking it. “Mmm,” she moaned, faking it.
L closed his eyes and tried to focus on the sensation, rather that on the knowledge that Rem was right outside the door and that he was caught in Misa’s trap. It was difficult, because—what did shinigami even know about sex? He wasn’t sure. What if Rem heard them, or walked in on them, and thought he was hurting Misa?
He couldn’t think of many worse situations to try to get an erection than this: knowing that he might die if he couldn’t, but also that he might die if he could, if Rem got the wrong idea. And the clock ticking away in his head all the while.
Desperately, L thought about everything arousing that he could. Fucking Misa while she was unconscious from the drugs he’d slipped her. Misa stepping out of Watari’s car with his semen on her face. His hand joining Aiber’s on the back of Misa’s head, pushing it down on him.
Misa in a straitjacket, chains around her thighs, a gag between her lips.
Light Yagami’s hands around his neck.
There was a brush of teeth against his sensitive flesh, and he didn’t know if Misa meant it as a threat, but it felt like one. He thought—she might really kill me, any moment now. If I don’t fuck her.
“Mhm,” Misa moaned, pleased, as he began hardening in her mouth, and he abruptly realized that that was what had done it. He’d thought it would make it harder to get an erection, but when he let his brain go down that dark road, to think that his life was in the palm of Misa’s hand, between her teeth, along with his cock… That his survival depended on his ability to please her… It did what her ministrations and feigned moans could not.
He thought, What have I gotten myself into? And then Misa slid her mouth down further, until his growing erection pushed into her throat, and he didn’t think at all, for a time. His heart was beating so fast.
When his mind switched on again, Misa was already naked and on top of him, straddling his hips, murmuring insistently, “Inside, put it inside.” She sank onto him, and he let out a groan at the feeling of being engulfed in her warmth. It felt better, maybe, than it ever had before, because of the danger. Because of his terror, his desperation.
“Oh god,” he said.
“Mhm,” Misa moaned again, grinding her hips down on him, and he grabbed her with both hands, helping to guide her movements. “Tell Misa you love her.”
“I love you.”
“Tell Misa you belong to her.”
“I belong to you.”
Misa threw her head back, bracing both hands on his chest. She was so beautiful. How could she seem to tower over him like this, small as she was? He looked up at her and thought, So this is the woman that two gods of death fell for.
“I’ll never leave you,” he said, watching her brows knit in pleasure.
“You can’t leave me.” Her voice was sharp, with pleasure but also with threat.
“That’s right,” he babbled. The trap didn’t seem so claustrophobic now. Or, if it did, it was only in the same way that Light’s hands had felt when they wrapped around his throat. “I can’t leave—I’m Misa’s.”
“Misa—oh,” she gasped. “Misa needs Ryuuzaki. If Ryuuzaki leaves, Misa will kill him, and then Misa will kill herself. And then we’ll be together—after. Always.”
L didn’t believe in an afterlife—actually, he should probably ask Rem about that—and he should have been afraid, hearing Misa’s words. Or, well, he was afraid. But it just made it better. And at least if she said she needed him, that meant she’d keep him alive. He just had to keep her dependent on him, just as he’d been doing. He could do this, he could.
“Always,” he said, ignoring the feeling that he was in far over his head. In this moment, the small woman on top of him seemed to be the entire world. She was terrifying and vulnerable and devoted and cruel. He wanted to carve her name into his own thigh to match. He wanted her hands around his throat.
Misa grew wild, leaning down to plant wet kisses on his jawline. Her little hands slipped into his hair and tightened, yanking his head back, and she bit down viciously on his neck, sucking until he was certain the bruise would be completely black. Marking her territory, no doubt, to ward off Light, as well as any other threats. He moaned and squirmed, kicking his legs against the sheets, holding on to her for dear life as she rolled her hips quickly down on him.
She licked her way up his neck to whisper in his ear, confiding horrible things in the most erotic tone of voice he’d ever heard. “Misa is worthless,” she moaned, her breath on his ear making him shudder as he hardened further inside of her. “Misa is useless and broken. She’s not a person at all, she’s a shell, all empty and hollow inside. Misa needs Ryuuzaki inside of her to fill her up and give her value so she can exist. Misa… Misa only matters when Ryuuzaki is inside of her.”
She sounded like she might be crying, but he also thought she might be on the verge of orgasm. Maybe both. There was so much desperation in her voice, like she really thought she might die if she didn’t please him. “Fuck Misa, make her real. I’m so worthless, Ryuuzaki, I’m so empty, I only exist when you’re inside me, please, please.”
L felt sick and sad and harder than he’d ever been in his life. “I’m gonna come,” he gasped, and Misa’s rhythm stuttered.
“No!” she moaned. “Misa is so close, so Ryuuzaki better not come yet! Ryuuzaki can’t stop, he can’t, Misa needs it.”
She was definitely crying now.
“I won’t, I just need to stop for a second, just a second, and get a hold of myself.”
“No!” Misa cried out again. “No, no no no, keep going, you have to, you have to!” She whined in frustration and ground her hips down on him as hard as she could.
L knew the danger well, knew that his ability to please Misa, to keep her happy, was all that he had left. If he failed her in this, she probably wouldn’t have him killed yet, but he couldn’t risk it. He didn’t know where the line was, not with someone as volatile as Misa, so he needed to stay as far in the safe zone as possible, to grant her every request.
His heart pounded as he tried to think of things that were boring or gross enough to hold off his orgasm, but not so much so that he would lose his erection and fail Misa that way. Pleasure built and built, even as Misa’s movements grew erratic on top of him, her breath coming hard and fast, but he knew that he couldn’t come, he couldn’t, he had to stop himself, his life might depend on it.
“Oh god,” he gasped. “Oh no, I can’t, Misa, I’m—oh god.”
“Ryuuzaki!” Misa shouted, starting to lift off of him in her anger, and L acted on instinct, gripping her hips tightly and slamming her back down on him, groaning in pleasure as her clenching muscles slid all the way back down his shaft and engulfed him once more. He snapped his hips upwards and cried out helplessly as his orgasm was ripped from him.
He couldn’t stop it, couldn’t do anything, his pleasure intensifying into a wave that knocked him off his feet because it was forbidden, because it was dangerous. He came so hard he seemed to be falling apart, chanting, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, oh god,” over and over again as he pulsed and spent inside of her.
“Ryuuzaki!” Misa shrieked. “No!”
Which was, of course, when Rem came through the wall, moving faster than L had even known she could, and ripped Misa from his body. She lifted Misa’s naked form right into the air, snatching her away, leaving L alone on the bed, still ejaculating weakly into empty space, head spinning.
“Rem, stop!” Misa shouted, pounding the shinigami’s chest with her fists. “Put me down!”
“But he was hurting you,” Rem said, looking utterly baffled. “You were screaming.”
“I—it wasn’t like that! Put me down, damn it!”
Finally, still looking confused and angry, the shinigami set Misa on her feet.
“Don’t look at him,” Misa snapped.
“What?”
“Don’t look at Ryuuzaki when he’s naked! That’s just for Misa!”
L, whose pleasure had transitioned straight into mind-numbing fear at the sight of the shinigami, covered his penis with both hands and fought back the inappropriate urge to laugh. Was she… jealous? Of the shinigami?
Rem closed her eyes and said, “I don’t understand.”
Misa let out an inarticulate noise of frustration, probably as much from her stymied orgasm as from the shinigami’s behavior. “This is human stuff,” she said. “It has nothing to do with you. Go wait outside, and don’t come back in unless I call your name!”
L wasn’t sure how on earth he could tell that the shinigami’s feelings were hurt, and yet, he had the very strong impression that this was the case. “Fine,” Rem said stiffly, turning and phasing back through the wall without a word, and Misa collapsed onto the bed next to him, fixing him with a glare.
“I was almost there,” she complained.
Though he considered pointing out that, if she had reached orgasm, Rem probably would have mistaken her sounds for ones of pain and interrupted them anyway, he decided not to. Instead, he said, “I know. I’m sorry. Misa just felt so good, I couldn’t last.” He hoped that framing it this way would make her more sympathetic, or she would even take it as a compliment, but she didn’t look any less annoyed.
The Misa he was used to would have forgiven him, wouldn’t have complained. But the way she looked at him now was different, and he suddenly wondered how much of the Misa he knew had been a role she played in response to the immense power he’d held over her. Now that the shoe was on the other foot, she was replaced by someone he didn’t understand, didn’t know how to handle. He suddenly found himself having to try, to think of her rather than taking whatever pleasure he could. He didn’t really know how.
Thinking back to how Misa had catered to his needs all this time, though, he had an idea. “Here,” he said. “Here, come on, come up here.” Taking her by the hips, he guided her up the bed, laying back again, ignoring the voice in the back of his mind that told him how short on time he was.
“Ryuuzaki?” Misa asked, confused.
“Misa is always so good for me,” L said. “I should have returned the favor a long time ago. I’m going to take care of Misa until she’s completely satisfied.”
She still looked confused, but when he pulled her to straddle his face and slid his tongue between her labia, she let out a happy, surprised squeal.
Though L could taste his own semen on her, he didn’t mind. Back before their relationship began, when he wasn’t spilling himself onto pictures of her, he would often curl himself up into a ball and ejaculate into his own mouth after masturbating, for easier clean-up. The taste was not exactly pleasant, nor was the way it coated his chin, making a mess of him, but he could bear it.
L felt vaguely guilty at how rarely he had done this for her, particularly during the period between his first and second encounters with Light, when he had thought of nothing but sating his own lust before it led him back to the other man. At the same time, he felt trapped, performing for Misa like a plastic toy so that she would not tire of him.
Part of him wondered if this was how she had felt before: desperate to please him, always aware of the absolute power he held over her. He wondered how she had handled it so well, becoming submissive and cloyingly sweet rather than angry and frustrated.
In any case, he didn’t have to do it long, since she had already been close to orgasm. L flicked and laved his tongue against her, her neat black pubic hair tickling his nose, as she bounced and moaned atop his face. He kept his eyes open and could see her above him, the undersides of her breasts shaking, her hair hanging forward into her face.
Misa slipped right back into her earlier dirty talk, though it was more unsettling now that he was no longer aroused. She babbled down at him, telling him that she was worthless, that she was empty, that she would die if he stopped wanting her, that they both would, that she’d never let him leave her, and then she came screaming. He wondered vaguely how much difficulty Rem was having, restraining herself from interfering again.
Pushing that out of his mind, L smiled up at the panting Misa, grateful that he had found a way to satisfy her, despite his premature ejaculation. Earlier, he had felt angry and helpless, forced into sex by her tears and the implications thereof, but now he couldn’t help but feel warm and satisfied, seeing that she was pleased with him.
(Was this how he’d done it to her? Broken her down, made her into a needy thing that thought only of pleasing him, one hit of oxytocin at a time?)
“That was fun, Ryuuzaki!” Misa told him happily, running her fingers through her sweaty hair and practically glowing down at him. “One more?”
It took L a second to catch on. Somehow, it hadn’t occurred to him that she wouldn’t be satisfied with a single orgasm. After all, that was more than he usually gave her. “Ah,” he said, “could we do it again later tonight? My tongue is tired, and I need to prepare for the trip out of headquarters.”
His heart sank when he saw the tears welling up once again in her eyes. “Ryuuzaki doesn’t love Misa the way that Misa loves him!”
L took a deep breath, the smell of Misa’s cunt overwhelming him. “What? Why would you think that?”
“Because!” Misa said, tears already falling onto the pillow beside his head, still straddling his face. “Ryuuzaki said that he wanted to please Misa, just like Misa does for him. But Misa never says no! Even when Ryuuzaki choked Misa until she couldn’t breathe and almost made her throw up, Misa let him. Because Misa loves Ryuuzaki. So if Ryuuzaki won’t do this for Misa, he must not love her enough.”
Her shoulders shook, and even though he felt like he was being manipulated, she seemed genuinely devastated. He wondered how she could do this—convince herself of things so quickly and totally.
“No one ever loves Misa the way Misa loves them. Misa’s not good enough.”
Well, L couldn’t even argue with her logic. Even though part of him still resented her for forcing him into this, he was the one who had gotten himself into this situation. When he was the one in control, he had used Misa selfishly and constantly, wringing every ounce of pleasure from her with no regard for her comfort. Could he really blame her for doing the same? He had thought she didn’t mind it, that she welcomed it, even. He hadn’t expected the roles to ever be reversed.
Only, could she not have picked a better fucking time? The clock ticked away in his head, but he pushed it back. All she had to do was scream for Rem and he would have far bigger things to worry about than Light’s plan to escape.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I would love to pleasure Misa as much as she wants.”
“You mean it?” Misa asked, and her sniffling immediately stopped.
L had a flash of inspiration, a way to prove that they were on equal ground. He knew he would regret it later, but as long as it kept him alive…
“Misa told me that she would have sex anytime I wanted it, so I would no longer need to masturbate. Now I want to promise Misa the same thing. No matter what, at any time and in any place, if Misa wants my body, she can have it. And I promise never to touch myself without Misa present, and to never go to someone else again. From now on, my body is Misa’s.”
Though he told himself it was simple pragmatism, he found himself flushing slightly at the words coming out of his mouth. Of course, he knew that he already belonged to Misa. One word from her and his heart would stop. All he was doing was admitting the power she held over him. And though he felt reluctant to reveal how completely powerless he was before her, part of him thrilled at it, his cock stirring slightly against his thigh.
“You mean it?” Misa asked, a pout in her voice, but she sounded much happier than she had a second ago. How quickly she swung between her moods.
“I mean it.”
“Misa is so happy,” she said, and then sat right back down on his face. “Please lick Misa’s pussy now.”
L fought back a sigh and did as he was told.
While he licked her, Misa spoke, muttering to him, or to herself—he wasn’t sure which. Now that she had come once, she seemed less frantic, taking the time to revel in her fantasies.
“Ryuuzaki likes it, doesn’t he?” she asked. “Misa’s pussy.” In response, he licked said body part more fervently, and she moaned louder. “Misa’s worthless,” she moaned. “She’s not even human. This is the only part of Misa that matters—this, and Misa’s mouth, and Misa’s ass. Misa’s holes. Ryuuzaki likes fucking them, doesn’t he? They make Ryuuzaki feel good.”
She didn’t seem to want a response, so he just kept on licking. Her hands slid into his hair, tugging at it, holding his head down against the pillow as she rocked on top of his face.
“Ryuuzaki wants to hurt Misa. Everyone wants to hurt Misa. They look at Misa and they want to stalk her and fuck her and kill her.” Her voice was breathy, almost like a sleepwalker, like she was somewhere far away. “Didn’t Ryuuzaki like it?” she cooed. “Didn’t it feel good when Misa choked for him? When he—oh—when he fucked Misa’s ass and made her cry?”
L was not certain how he was meant to feel about the things she was saying. A good man would be horrified, but then, as Yagami had pointed out, he was far from a good man. A ‘fucking psychopath,’ he’d called him.
“Misa knows Ryuuzaki hates her sometimes,” she went on. “Misa knows she’s stupid and annoying and no one likes her. But Ryuuzaki likes fucking Misa, doesn’t he? Ryuuzaki likes Misa’s holes.” She moaned, moving faster. “That’s all that Misa is. Just an empty hole for Ryuuzaki to fill up with his cock.
“Misa bets Ryuuzaki would like her better if… oh, if Ryuuzaki, what’s it called. Lobotomized her.”
Wait, what?
“Ryuuzaki could throw away all the parts of Misa he doesn’t need, only leave enough to keep Misa’s holes warm for him to use. Keep Misa in, in a cage, like a dog, take her out just to fuck her and put her back. Misa could be so good for Ryuuzaki if he forced her to be. He wouldn’t hate her anymore, because the only things left of Misa would be the parts he wanted.”
What the fuck. L was… well, he was getting hard again, but he knew he shouldn’t be. Though he tried not to imagine it, he’d always had a particularly visual imagination, and he could see it so clearly: Misa reduced to a mindless, drooling thing, with just enough brainpower left to be trained to offer up her body on demand. There wouldn’t need to be much of her left for that—for him to use her.
And, like when he’d drugged her, she’d be easier. (Did she know he felt that way? What she’d said, about him hating her, hating when she was anything more than an object for him to use… She’d always been such a sensitive instrument.)
“And when…” Her breath caught, a throaty moan tearing out of her, and she shuddered, so he licked faster, trying to tune out the horrible, arousing words coming from her mouth. “When Misa is old and ugly and even Ryuuzaki doesn’t want her anymore, when her boobs get saggy and she’s fat and her holes are all loose and used up—no, no, before that, Misa doesn’t want to wait that long—before Misa gets old and loses her value, Ryuuzaki should—should kill Misa.”
He paused, so thrown by her words that he forgot what he was doing entirely, at least until Misa let out a frustrated noise, said, “Don’t stop, don’t stop!” and yanked painfully on his hair.
Once he picked back up again, and her hips were once again sliding in a steady rhythm back and forth on his face, she continued. “Ryuuzaki should… should put Misa down like an animal. Misa wants it, oh, fuck, Misa wants to die. Misa wants to die with Ryuuzaki’s cock inside of her. It would be so good—Misa would never have to be empty again. Misa would be good, good enough.
“Maybe—maybe Misa would get tighter, while she was dying. Wouldn’t Ryuuzaki like that? That would be perfect, Misa thinks—if Misa’s death made Ryuuzaki come. Then she would finally be good for something.”
Once again, his active imagination worked against him. He’d do it with his hands on her throat, he knew. He would strangle her to death. Would it be like she said? Would her cunt tighten around him as her body fought for air? How would it feel? He reached down, wrapping a hand around his cock and stroking.
What would Misa feel, in the end? Would fear come into her eyes as she realized, too late, that she didn’t want it after all? Or would she smile up at him, blissfully sinking into the knowledge that she was worth something, if only in her death? He didn’t know, but he knew what it would look like when the life faded out of her eyes. He had seen enough people die to know that much—had seen it only a few hours ago, when Ooi’s heart had stopped.
And he’d seen what came after, too. The bodies—mostly women and girls, sometimes boys, rarely men—dumped in rivers and forests, thrown in dumpsters, discarded naked on cold, dirty ground. Dark, hand-shaped bruises around their necks. Semen trickling out from between their thighs, if the perpetrator was sloppy.
It had always seemed to him one of the most monstrous things imaginable—to use up a human life in a few seconds of selfish pleasure. To take a human being—someone with a past, a mind of their own, who had loved and been loved by others, who had been someone’s precious child—and treat them like—well, like a tissue, an object to be ejaculated into once and then discarded, as though that were their only purpose, what they’d been born for—their entire life only the prelude to their killer’s pleasure.
And if he had occasionally grown erect on those crime scenes, well, he had been a young man—a teenage boy, for many of them—and they had been the first naked bodies he’d ever seen. It needn’t mean any more than that. Maybe that was why he was the way he was: he’d first learned of sex in the context of those who used it to hurt, who took it from others, destroying them in the process. Sex not as an act of love, but as violation, as just another means and motive for killing.
But never had he imagined that one day a woman would be begging him for it, begging for him to turn her into one of those bodies. It was—it should have been—unthinkable.
He tugged faster on his cock, hips rocking up, slurping messily at Misa’s cunt.
“Kill me,” she begged, “kill me, fuck me to death, come inside me while I’m dying, look me in the eyes when you do it. I deserve it, I’m bad, I did something bad, you’ll hate me, punish me, please Ryuuzaki.”
L groaned into her flesh, fucking up into his tight fist, pretending it was her body, and Misa suddenly stopped, looking back over her shoulder. “No!” she shouted, rising up just enough to slap him across the face, then grabbed his arm and yanked on it, pulling his hand away from his crotch. “Ryuuzaki can’t, he promised!”
Wasn’t he even allowed to touch himself while pleasuring Misa? He groaned again, this time in frustration. “Please, Misa,” he begged. “I want to come so bad.”
Misa looked down at him with a sudden, cruel smile. “Did it turn Ryuuzaki on?” she asked. “Thinking about killing me?”
He couldn’t even lie to her anymore. “Yes,” he whispered, staring up at her with wide eyes. Then, under the uncannily sharp scrutiny of her gaze, he added, “It’s Misa’s fault. Misa’s the one who made me think those things. Please let me, just a little…” He reached back down for his cock and she slapped him again.
“Ryuuzaki can’t waste it! That has to go inside of Misa.”
“Okay, then let me come inside you,” he said. “Doesn’t Misa want me to fill her up?”
“Mm… no,” she said, and he gaped at her. “If Misa lets Ryuuzaki stick it in again, he’ll just come right away, and Misa won’t get to feel good.”
“I won’t,” he lied. “I won’t, I promise, just let me fuck you.”
She laughed at him. “You’re a dirty animal,” she said. “You can’t keep your hands off your cock for two seconds, can you? All you can think about is finding somewhere to put it.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, nodding his head between her legs. “I want to put it in Misa.”
“Maybe if Ryuuzaki is very, very good,” she teased, then slid her hands down his arms to grab hold of his wrists, pinning them to the bed on either side of his face, sitting back down before he could argue further. “Now lick. Don’t stop until I’m done.”
L sobbed in frustration, thrusting uselessly up into the empty air. He could break Misa’s hold on him, but he might hurt her in the process, and even if he didn’t, she might still tell Rem to punish him for disobeying her. There was nothing else he could do but pleasure her, hoping to do a good enough job that she would allow him to fuck her after.
And yet, even as he obeyed, he was so angry, so desperate, full of lust and hate and barely restrained animal need. He didn’t care anymore. If it weren’t for Rem, he’d do what he wanted—would shove Misa off of him, pin her down to the bed, and fuck her whether she wanted him to or not. She’d said he could whenever he wanted, so he’d do it, even if she screamed and fought him. Then he’d put his hands around her throat and squeeze, just like she’d asked him to.
If Misa wanted to be fucked to death, destroyed, he’d do it and enjoy it, if only to pay her back for toying with him like this. If only to feel, for once, like he had the upper hand.
Because she’d had him on a string for too long, from the day she’d gotten them caught by the task force to the day she’d manipulated him into ejaculating on her face at her film set. Even when he’d thought he was the one in control, he hadn’t been, not really. But even Misa couldn’t turn things around on him if he killed her. He would finally have the power—would kill her, lobotomize her, inject her with drugs to keep her compliant and quiet and easy, a thing that he could control.
Besides, she was a killer. She’d taken hundreds of lives—what was hers, in comparison? Didn’t she deserve everything he’d done to her and more? If she deserved to die for her crimes, then who cared whether her punishment came by means of lethal injection or by L’s hands on her? Interpol would give her to him if he asked—she’d be his reward, and he would be her punishment.
Or maybe the other way around.
But Rem was outside the door, the leash was around his neck, and he had no confidence that Misa would actually allow him to fuck her. The way she was going, she’d probably just keep making him give her orgasm after orgasm, refusing to ever let him come or to go get the notebook with Light. (Was that what this was about?)
After all, if he had her lack of refractory period, that was what he would do.
Well, if he didn’t have the right to tell her no anymore, then the only way to end this was to exhaust her, completely and totally. And so, when she climaxed a second time, L didn’t allow her to pull away. He tore loose from her grasp, wrapped both arms around her thighs, and held her in a vice grip against his mouth. He kept on licking her clit at exactly the same rhythm and intensity, feeling a sort of vicious pleasure in his malicious compliance with her orders.
Misa thrashed above him, her back arching, and she literally screamed in pleasure. She writhed and bucked, grinding down against his face, surrounding him with the smell and taste of her, and still he wouldn’t let go, forcing her pleasure to build and build until she began to shove against his forehead, gasping, “S-stop!”
When L ceased his ministrations, relaxing his grip on her thighs, Misa’s head fell forwards as if her strings had been cut, hands barely supporting her against the bed. Her body gave a few last weak jerks, thighs clenching against his head and releasing again. She panted, her hair falling in a curtain around her face, her body silhouetted against the ceiling lights. “Oh my god,” she gasped. “Oh my god, that was, that was, oh my god. Ryuuzaki. I can barely sit up.”
He took a deep breath, letting himself relax at last. He had done it. His jaw and tongue ached, and his face was coated in her fluids, but Misa was satisfied. She lifted one delicate hand to cup his cheek, and he leaned into her touch, closing his eyes, distracted from his own arousal for a moment by a feeling of triumph.
“Ryuuzaki…” Misa said breathlessly. “Do that again.”
By the time Misa allowed him to stop, she’d come four more times and his tongue felt like it was about to fall out of his mouth. She’d held his wrists down the whole time, so his cock was aching, standing up stiff and red from his pubic hair, feeling like it would explode if she so much as laid a single finger on it. But Misa only lay boneless on the bed next to him, seeming utterly uninterested in doing anything but languishing in the afterglow of her pleasure.
“I was good, wasn’t I?” he asked, sitting up halfway on his elbows, looking down at her, but she ignored him. “Can I come now? I did what Misa asked. It’s my turn.” He crawled closer, until his penis was right next to her face, but she only wrinkled her nose and turned away, and he let out a sound of frustration. “Come on, Misa, please, just let me put it in your mouth. You don’t even have to do anything; you can just lay there and let me fuck you.”
And once she did, he wouldn’t hold back. He’d grab her head in both hands and fuck it as hard and fast as he could, make her feel every bit of his rage, make her pay for teasing him for so long. Take back control. Nothing would make him stop, not until he’d come. God, fuck, it would feel so good.
She still hadn’t said anything, so he continued. “Please, I’ll do anything. You love me, don’t you? You want to be good for me.”
Finally, Misa opened her eyes and looked at him. “What time is it?” she asked.
What? Oh, right. L turned to look at the clock on the nightstand. “Half past one.” Half an hour after he’d told Yagami they would leave to get the second death note. He could only imagine how angry the man must be.
“You have to go, don’t you?” Misa asked. “It’s important.”
She was throwing his own words back at him. If he said it wasn’t, she would point out that he’d tried to use it as a reason not to fuck her earlier, only to turn around and decide he didn’t care now that he wanted to come.
His voice tight with frustration, L said, “Well, I can’t really go like this, can I?” He could only imagine Yagami’s reaction if he walked downstairs with a massive erection and said, ‘Alright, let’s go.’
“I guess you can’t.” Misa turned to look at his cock, and for a second, he let himself get his hopes up, before she added, “Ryuuzaki better go take a cold shower.” At the dumbfounded expression on his face, she laughed, pushing herself up into a seated position. “Oh, is it frustrating having someone use your mouth as much as they want and not even touch you? Poor Ryuuzaki.”
Okay, he got her point. Glaring, he pulled out his cell phone and called Watari.
“I presume you will be needing extra time?” Watari asked, and L thought he heard the tiniest bit of exasperation in his voice, despite the fact that L had already informed him of their precarious situation. He’d warned him about Misa and Rem, and told him that, until he found a way around it, they needed to do whatever the pair of them said. What right did he have to act like this was L’s fault?
Oblivious to his annoyance, the old man went on. “I have already informed Miss Kenwood, Mr. Yagami, and the others. Everything is awaiting your order.”
“The precautions for Light?” L asked. He’d anticipated needing to go over those himself.
“All taken care of,” Watari said, rattling off the long list of security measures they’d be taking. “All that is left is to collect the young Mr. Yagami from his room.”
“Has Light seemed like he remembers being interrogated?”
“He has done nothing out of the ordinary today.”
L hung up and turned back to Misa. “I’m going to go shower,” he said, biting out the words in anger.
“Have fun,” she said sweetly, giving him a little wave and a smile.
Closing the bathroom door behind him, L banged his head against it and let out a groan of anger. That cruel, vindictive bitch. His hand slid down, cupping his aching cock for a moment, and he very nearly started jerking off, but he knew too well that Misa would find out and punish him for it.
Damn you, Rem. If it wasn’t for the shinigami, he would go back to Misa, inject her with a drug to render her unconscious, and spend the next twelve hours satisfying himself with her body in every way possible—second notebook be damned. Instead, he was standing alone in a bathroom, utterly emasculated, unable to even touch himself without her permission.
L slammed his hand against the wall once, breathing hard, then stepped into the shower and turned the water all the way to cold.
When he emerged, hair lying wet against his shoulders, sending streams of cool water down his bare chest, Misa was waiting for him. He grabbed his clothes, beginning to quickly dress himself, and said, “I can send my men to collect Light from his room. I’ll just need to watch over the cameras to make sure he doesn’t try anything.” As frustrating as it was, he couldn’t afford to piss her off now.
But Misa surprised him. “No,” she said, “it’s okay. Ryuuzaki can go get Light himself.” That was such an unexpected thing for her to say that it didn’t really surprise him when she added, “Misa will go with you.”
L’s pulse accelerated immediately. “Misa, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said, watching her face harden. “Won’t it be upsetting to see me interact with Light? Besides, I don’t want to see him. I’d rather let my men take care of it.”
Misa gave him the oddest look, determined but smiling. “Misa isn’t worried about Light anymore,” she said. “Misa wants to do this.” At his hesitation, she said, with more emphasis, “This is what Misa wants. It will make her feel better.”
This was such a fucking bad idea. But L didn’t see any way around it, not when Misa’s eyes flickered to the door as though she were contemplating calling Rem in for backup.
“Alright,” he said. “Let’s go get Light.”
L’s heart was pounding as he led Misa to Light’s floor, handcuffs dangling from his hand. The last time the three of them had been in one place, it had gone poorly, to say the least. This simple mission to find the missing death note was rapidly spiraling out of his control. And yet, what could he do? Somehow, without even noticing at first, he had entirely lost control over his case—his life—and now he found himself pulled along, caught in Misa’s wake.
Looking down at the girl holding his hand, smiling to herself like she had some private joke, L realized that he had a very, very bad feeling about this.
The feeling only grew until it was nearly excruciating. As they unlocked the door to Light’s quarters, L felt like he was outside of his own body. Like his feet were stepping forward without his consent, carrying him mercilessly towards something horrible.
Light got to his feet from where he’d been sitting at his desk, lost in thought. They’d told him nothing—he shouldn’t even know that L had visited him the night before, let alone that he was about to go out of the headquarters. He opened his mouth, and L was so certain he was going to say, ‘What are you doing here?’ that he practically heard the words before they were voiced.
That was why it took him a moment to process the words that Light did say.
“L belongs to Misa,” Light said, his face going strangely slack. “No one will take him away from her. And anyone who tries… Misa will punish them.”
That being said, Light blankly stuck his tongue as far out of his mouth as it could possibly go and bit down with his full strength, letting out a strangled scream. The muscle dropped to the ground in a torrent of blood. A second later, Light followed it, thrashing and gurgling as even more blood poured from his mouth.
For a long moment, that was the only sound in the room. And then L heard himself say, as though from distance, “Misa, what have you done?”
On the floor in front of them, Light stopped twitching and lay still, the slowly spreading red puddle beginning to soak into the carpet. And Misa—her small, soft hand still interlaced with L’s—began to laugh.