Death Note Anonymous Kink Meme
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. ( Read more... )
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. ( Read more... )
Raye said nothing in return. He knew it was best not to speak unless asked a direct question. She was overpowering, almost too much to bear. He closed his eyes, swallowed his saliva loudly, awkwardly, and then opened them again. She still had that same cold, hard smile, looking down on him.
Her pelvis descended, the lacy crotch of her thong brushing just across the sensitive head of his erection, making his length twitch, and yes, yes, she was damp, soaked through the fabric. It was just a teasing motion, rubbing that moisture barely across the top of his stiff, bobbing penis. He knew that he could slip it in easily, even with the thong still on. The thong was narrow and the fabric would simply slide to one side. He suddenly needed penetration with an urgent, pounding lust, enough to brave her wrath; he needed to feel that delicious warmth inside her, and so he arched his hips, pressing upward, seeking the opening.
She wasn't about to capture his hard-on within her yet, and her pelvis retreated out of reach. She smacked his bare shoulder with the flat of the knife blade, stinging the skin, hard enough to leave a mark, he was sure. His heart was racing, straining inside his chest.
She said, "You need to prove your usefulness, Raye. Can you obey?"
"Yes."
"Good."
Her words were almost a purr, the tone smooth and full of mastery. He felt the dull edge of the knife again, tracing a path from his shoulder to his chest and then lazily making a big circle around one nipple, as if to say, "I could cut this off if I used the sharp side."
It left another trail of tingles and his breathing couldn't help but speed up again.
Then she took the knife to one side and it went out of sight as she climbed forward on hands and knees, her long hair falling down around her face on three sides in a long, swaying curtain, making almost a tunnel effect when trying to look her in the eyes. The hair brushed along his naked chest, tickling, making the knife trail come alive even more when those paths crossed.
Then she was crouching back on her heels again, the place between her legs hovering right over his face, so close he could smell her arousal. She hooked one finger in the thong, pulling it aside, and began squeezing the honey directly onto her clit. It was quickly dripping down in globs, sticky and oozing over his chin and then neck.
He waited until she said, "You'll be required to do many things to earn your forgiveness. Start with this."
And then he reached upward with tongue and fingers at once, tasting the sweet honey and sliding two fingers into her slippery crevice on the first try because she was just that open. He took over the thong duty, holding it aside as he worked and she swayed in blissful near-oblivion above him.
His lower regions ached from neglect, but he tried to concentrate on what he was doing, coaxing her hard little nub to full attention with precise licks, feeling it swelling under his ministrations while his fingers went deep inside, finally three and then four, opening her, sinking in again and again in the increasingly slippery, dripping environment, curling in just the right way to make her gasp and tremble.
Raye kept up the relentless onslaught, picking up the clues in several ways as her peak approached. She was suddenly rough, her fingers grabbing in his hair and scratching along the back of his neck to press his mouth hard to the juncture between her legs.
And then, with her head thrown back and her internal muscles clenching around his fingers, she came with a cry that was vulnerable and harsh all at once, something with a note of sobbing and whimpering in it. He removed his tongue from her clit to keep from over-stimulating her but hooked his fingers more deeply, helping her ride out her waves of pleasure at a greater intensity.
He wanted Naomi so badly, wanted to flip her over and fuck her senseless, pound her into the carpet until he was fully satiated, but instead he waited, eager and impatient all at once, ready for her next orders. Not having her yet was a nagging frustration, an itch that kept bringing itself to his attention, but it would make taking her all the sweeter when it happened.
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When the shudders stopped, she raised up the honey bottle, started re-applying, and said, "Again."
His poor, lonely dick bobbed in anguish by itself, but he went to work on Naomi, pouring all his skill into the task of giving her pleasure, driving her more quickly to a second orgasm and then, at her orders, a third.
Raye's neck was sore from the angle he'd been holding it at and the scratches she'd inflicted, but he forgot all that as she moved back down his body in a graceful flash. His flagging erection surged to attention once again, stiff and throbbing before she'd even pressed it to her vulva.
Naomi only allowed the very tip inside her. Somehow, from what he could feel of her, she was open and tight all at once, parting effortlessly for him but clamping down on him once he was inside. Her eyes were bright in the dim room, and a thin sheen of sweat glistened across her back.
He ached for her next command, shuddering underneath her, controlled, owned. He knew better than to try to twitch his pelvis upwards a second time. She tipped herself forward and then back, rocking little thrusts that took only a small portion of his length inside and then let him slide almost entirely out. It was a sweet torment, blissful and maddening, making him groan and then at last to start begging.
She smiled at him as if she were considering it, and then, after it was almost unbearable, but he hadn't lunged upward at all, he'd been good, she started talking.
She said, "Raye, this is how it feels when there is something you were made to do, but your partner keeps you from doing it."
"Please," he said, "Please!"
"Let's talk about this. I gave up being an FBI agent for complex reasons. I'm sure you remember them. Please tell them to me."
Raye gathered his mind together, but it was difficult and his thoughts seemed to slosh back and forth with each of her little, rocking thrusts.
He said, "You had... uh... saved enough money that we only need one income. You were... were... beginning to get... ah... burned out and everyone needs a break sometimes. Your parents were worrying a lot. And you... ngggghhh... knew that... knew that we plan to become parents as soon as possible, and you don't want our kids to be raised by daycare, so someone had to quit."
She waited, saying nothing, driving him crazy with the sweet partial penetration, over and over. He wanted all the way in. It was a desperate, all-consuming need.
No, there's more. Think, think.
His mind stretched back to the conversation they'd had, only a few months ago, but there was hardly any blood in his brain. It was all elsewhere.
Raye continued, "Because you had enough... uh... enough recognition that you could get your job back at anytime you wanted... but... mmmmmm... I might not have the same luck... don't want to waste my career-building in the FBI."
Naomi said, "Yes, it was a favor, Raye, and it was the most logical decision for this time. Always remember, at any point in the future I might decide I've had enough of the home life, and turn you into a house-husband for a change of pace. I will do it the instant I see you say anything misogynistic in front of our kids. They will not be raised with such beliefs."
He replied, "I deserve it... I was a bastard... just let me... please!"
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And then, she was moving onto him, sliding down his sensitive shaft, everything he wanted and needed simply delivered to him in that one movement. He could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat in the head of his penis, he could feel her all-enveloping heat, slippery and tight, deliciously deep within her cleft, and a mindless instinct set him to rutting upwards into her, arching his back, grabbing her hips, timing his thrusts to her continued rocking.
They were a tangle of bodies, surging towards pleasure, a shared goal they both pursued with an instinctual rhythm, losing all capacity for words in the fever of the experience and merely making animalistic sounds, grunts and moans and pants. She grabbed one of his hands and placed his thumb next to her clit, and he had just enough presence of mind to slide it back and forth gently as he fucked himself upward into her and she snaked her hands behind his back, scratching him like a wildcat, but the burn of her nails on his skin just heightened every sensation.
He was lucky. She came first, semi-collapsing into his arms, and it was so hot, so freaking hot that it drove him into a frenzy, holding her hips up with both hands and slamming into her convulsing vagina, feeling every tremor inside her as his orgasm rose within his balls as a white-hot point of pleasure and flashed upward through the shaft, deep into her. She milked him, relentlessly, sucking it all out, taking everything he had to give. He closed his eyes and shouted something incoherent and felt the exquisite pulses flowing into her as she continued to take it.
They were a mess afterwards. Sweat and honey and semen and bits of ruined clothing all tangled together, their bodies spent and exhausted, the most blissful exhaustion he'd ever had. When they got up, he realized he'd put his elbow on the sharp part of the knife-blade at some point when his focus had been elsewhere, and he'd opened a small gash, left a bloodstain on the carpet.
Naomi just laughed and said, "It's your fault, so you'll clean it up or apologize to the staff if you can't, but first we've got to save you from Kira."
Raye frowned at that, not ready for the argument to re-start again so soon, and said, "My suspect is just a kid. Besides, he can't be Kira. Kira would have killed that hijacker and saved himself."
Naomi gave him a look that brought back some of the cold shivers, and he decided to shut up and hear her out. She probably had a point.
She replied, "Kira could be a kid. Wouldn't it take someone childish to think that killing off all the world's criminals would be a good idea? Also, I would agree with you about the hijacker, except that everything about the incident would have to be a strange coincidence if you're right. You're forgetting that hijackings are exceptionally rare in Japan. It is especially worrying that the suspect was able to obtain your name. I think, if I'm right, you've got a limited time to live unless we can get L to interfere."
Raye couldn't believe it. He still couldn't believe an innocent-faced high-schooler like Light Yagami could be the notorious Kira. But instead of objecting again, he said, "Why limited?"
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"If Kira is stupid, he'll kill you right away after obtaining your name. If he did that, he'd immediately become the prime suspect. But if he pulled a trick like the hijacking, he must be smart. A smart Kira would need to wait, and perhaps create other schemes to get the names of every FBI agent working on the Kira investigation. If all of them died at the same time at a later date, then it might be impossible to narrow the list of suspects any further than it already has been."
She paused and looked straight at him, sadness and determination shining in her eyes.
She said, "You may only have a few days to live, Raye. We'll try to save you, but you need to write a detailed report of this entire incident now, and make sure it gets to the right people. Let me look it over before you send it."
"Oh God," he said, "I would get fired for breaching security like this, discussing everything with someone who isn't an agent. We're not even supposed to write anything down unless it's vital, to minimize any chance of leaks."
"This is vital, and they won't find out you told me. We'll just pretend my ideas are yours. It will be fine. You need my help on this. Can you send your report directly to L?"
"Nobody has direct contact with L, but my boss can send information to Watari, and then he'll contact L. I can put that request in my report and keep calling my boss until he gives in."
Raye felt stupid to be typing up his report in the nude and with all sorts of sticky substances adhering to him, but he wrote up the entire thing while Naomi stood behind his shoulder, sometimes making additional suggestions, and then he sent it off.
Knowing it was out there, ready to be acted on, sent a wave of relief through him. Perhaps Naomi was right, and in any case maybe it was better to be careful. Raye called up his boss immediately after, and argued with him until he agreed to summon Watari immediately.
As soon as Raye set down the phone and sighed, Naomi said, "Now, Raye, go in the kitchen, and make me a sandwich!"
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That is a brilliant portrayal of Raye and Naomi's relationship! She calls him on his actions, but she's not being a bitch about it. Awesome work!
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