Welcome to the Death Note Anonymous Kink Meme!
How it works:
* Comment anonymously with a kinkfic request. All requests must contain a character or pairing/threesome/moresome (any combination of guys/girls/shinigami/whatever are OK, crossovers are fine too), and at least one kink. If you need inspiration, check out this
huge list of kinks by
eliade.
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L took hold of the desk in front of him and pulled his chair in closer to the monitor. Things were really becoming interesting. He could already see Matsuda’s hardness through the layer of underwear, and he fully expected the young officer’s focus of attention to shift southwards any time now- in fact, he was surprised that the man had held out for this long.
But it seemed that Matsuda enjoyed teasing himself: his hand slid downwards over his ribs and hovered over the waistband of his shorts, only to move upwards once more and across to his other nipple. His groan when his fingers closed over it sounded as frustrated as he would have been if someone else were touching him, and L wondered why he continued to pleasure himself like this if it was not satisfying to him. Despite the distortion and pixilation of the image on the screen, it was obvious to L that Matsuda was more than sufficiently aroused: there was a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, the muscles in his shoulders and thighs were twitching as his fingers continued to massage his obviously sensitive nipples, and he was beginning to make whining sounds in the back of his throat, irregular and faint at first but growing stronger and more frequent as the ministrations of his fingers grew more intense. At last, he pinched hard into the by now scarlet nub, and his mouth opened and released a cry while his hips lifted up off the couch.
This seemed to be the final straw: as soon as the cop caught his breath he was running his hand down his torso once more, and this time instead of teasing he at once hooked his fingers into the front of his shorts and dragged them down, allowing his erection to escape from the confines of the material.
Not taking his eyes off the screen, L slowly reached out a hand across the desk, scooped up some strawberry syrup on his finger and sucked meditatively at the digit while he watched Matsuda close his hand around his own arousal.
The officer let out a gasp, his lips twitching, and he seemed unable to prevent himself from groaning as he slid his hand downwards along the shaft towards his body. His back was leaning against the couch and his head was drooping forwards as if there was no strength left in his body, but the way his feet braced themselves on the floor and propelled his hips upwards demonstrated the amount of vigour that his muscles in fact possessed. He was moving his hand slowly, his eyes half-open and following his fist’s journey up and down his length, but his chest was heaving and his throat was emitting frequent and desperate sounds. His other hand remained at his chest, twisting and rubbing at his hard, tender nipples, and the delicate red flush across his cheeks was spreading down his chest as his movements accelerated. The grip of his hand was firm, the skin over his erection shifting back and forth under its force although he was not moving quickly; he had a look of concentration on his face, but the noises that he was making in the back of his throat were more than enough to convey the extent of his need. His fingers shifted upwards and tightened around the head of his arousal, a nail sliding over the tip, and all at once he flung his head backwards and moaned harshly with an open mouth.
L inhaled sharply and shifted his weight in his chair.
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