Erase The Name

BY : NothingsXSorrow
Category: Death Note > General
Dragon prints: 848
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or its characters, nor do I profit from these writings


Mello studied the ornate rosary, fingers tracing over the small metal of the savior crucified, his arms outstretched, nails driven through hands and ankles. He had died in agony, paying the price for man's sins so that they may be forgiven and enter into his father's kingdom.

He had come into possession of it quite recently, a "gift" from a former Wammy's House alumni that had been sent to bring him in. For all the education bestowed and bravado they had displayed, she had been reduced to a blubbering mess, sobbing and pleading as the cool barrel of his gun had rested against her forehead.

The blond snorted, what a crock of shit religion was he thought. God had not answered her cries, Mello had pulled the trigger not showing her any mercy. Wammy's got a corpse, he got a new piece of jewelry, not a bad trade. Allowing the cross to settle back against his bared chest, he sat up, the burgundy sheet that had been covering him pooling at his waist as he retrieved a half empty beer bottle from the nightstand. After taking a swig he offered the rest to his companion, accepting the half smoked cigarette she offered him in exchange.

"You seem high-strung tonight." She said, her black lined gray eyes flitting over his toned body, before settling a hand against his lower abdomen. "Do you wanna talk?"

He eyed her for a few moments, wondering if he should voice his concern about the desperation with which a certain institution seemed to have in regards to his capture. An institution that had incalculable wealth and resources that may make that desire a reality. He shivered involuntary as her hand moved lower, leaning back against the head board, eyes sliding closed as her hand circled him.

"No." He breathed out, hips arching into her touch.

Although he couldn't see her, she nodded her head in understanding. She had been around long enough to know when things needed to be left alone. She tossed the now empty bottle to the ground, and leaning over placed a soft kiss to his navel.

"Would a blow job fix it?" She whispered against sweet slicked skin, tongue tracing a wet trail lower.

Mello shrugged, "Wouldn't hurt." he chuckled.

Fingers threading through plum colored hair guided that expert mouth of hers lower. Her lips replaced hand, working him slowly, teasing the sensitive underside with her tongue.

He had acquired her two years ago from a business associate who had owed him money. A few years younger than himself, wise to the world and the way things worked. With her looks not yet ravaged by the life and drugs, she had be a good acquisition. They had come to a mutual understanding soon as ownership had been passed onto him. She was to exclusively share his bed, a private whore who would serve him without question or complaint and in return he would grant some small semblance of freedom. Her choices limited, the only other option being that he turned her back to the sex trade, pimping her out filthy perverted old men, she had chosen his bed without a second to linger upon the possible repercussions. He had christened her Skye due to the blueish shade of her hair during their first meeting, never caring to actually learn her real name, he never asked she never offered.

He watched her through half slitted eyes as she worked him, and in spite of the fact he had gotten off earlier he was soon hard, a familiar knot beginning to form in his abdomen as she took more of him in between black painted lips. His hand traveled to her back, rubbing small circles as he felt the pressure building.

"yeah, suck me" He moaned softly, licking his dry lips.

She hummed around him, the vibration sending jolts of pleasure through him, blunt black nails biting into her shoulder as his muscles tightened, a soft growl escaping him as he emptied his seed into her mouth. She pulled away, her tongue licking his seed from her lips as she shifted, resting her head against his chest.

"Paul was behind the theft." She yawned, fingers tracing lazy patterns along his thighs.

He cursed, "Fuck. Is Rod aware?" A week ago a large shipment of narcotics had turned up missing, and the Rod had launched an informal investigation into who had been responsible for its disappearance.

"I don't think so."

"Fuck." His hands rubbed at his face."Are you sure?"

"Yeah, pretty sure. I was gonna tell you when you came back but-"

She didn't need to finish. He already knew the reason for her remaining silent, he had come back in a violent mood, some nameless underling having incurred his wrath due to lack of competence and a loose tongue. He had vented on her flesh, ripping her clothes as he had unceremoniously stripped her and fucked her.

"I better go inform him then." He stood up, bending to retrieve his leather pants and pulling them on.

He glanced over his shoulder, taking in her nude form. The bite marks on her small breasts, bruises that were starting to darken on her hips where he had held her down before, his semen from their earlier tryst drying and starting to flake on her thighs.

"Take a shower, I'll be back."

She watched him retreat, sighing as she extracted her legs from where they tangled in the sheets and slowly made her way to the bathroom, pausing to fetch another beer from the refrigerator.



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