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... )
*
"While I am of course pleased that your talent for invention is as sharp as ever," L said, eyes poking over the monitor of his laptop, "I am a little concerned about the uses to which a cloning device might be put. I trust you haven't used it, Watari?"
Watari didn't falter, of course, scooping a generous amount of ice cream into L's early morning breakfast bowl. "Of course not, Sir. Banana and strawberry?"
He thanked his lucky stars he'd locked that warehouse door.
*
It never occurred to B that being in a room full of people almost exactly identical to you might be odd. Every morning, twelve pairs of wide dark eyes peered at him; twelve sets of shoulders hunched a little further when they saw him.
Of course, some of the eyes were a little wider, some of the movements were a little quicker. A few of his doubles - ones lower in the pecking order - occasionally even injected a bit of color into their voices, and others didn't seem to have grasped the line between 'thumb nibbling' and 'attempting to gnaw off one's fingers'.
Watari hadn't returned that day. It had seemed natural to suggest taking matters into their own hands: after all, they'd been informed of their own intelligence, their general brilliance. As the thirteenth and final refinement, B had even been rewarded with a nice pot of jam. And while he'd known that agreeing on some common goal and taking steps to achieve their aims would be relatively easy, this wasn't quite what he'd had in mind.
This B was much rougher than the others, biting at B's shoulder as though he was trying to draw blood, fingers tugging at B's hair. Before them, on the floor, B whimpered softly as B attempted to determine whether B could be brought to a third orgasm, hands stroking flushed, over-sensitive flesh.
It was all a bit of a mess, really. Across the room someone yelped 'Holy up!'; it distressed B that this was not the oddest thing he'd heard in the past half-hour. Post-coitus cackling was something he could have lived without hearing.
Groaning slightly, he managed to speak to the B currently attempting to fuck him through the wall.
"I'll give you a strawberry if you let me top."
*
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...MOAR ROFL.
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