P3: Going Under
Fandom: Persona 3 FES
Main characters: Akihiko, Mitsuru
Referenced characters: N/a
Pairing: Akihiko/Mitsuru
Contains: Dubcon, sex
Rating: NC17
Summary: The fog is thick in her head, so thick she can hardly think.
Note: Set during June's full moon, hence the dubious consent.
The stream is heavy, thick, like the fog in her head. Akihiko's hands are warm, warmer than they should be. They're rough against her bare skin, the hands of a fighter, and for once -- for once Mitsuru wants to yield, to give. His mouth is on the back of her neck, hot, wet, tasting her, and she knows she should be flinging him off, but she just shudders. He bites down, lightly, and she gasps aloud, sucking in a deep breath of the steam that seems to mess things up even more. Mitsuru turns then, finds his mouth with her own blindly. She fists a hand in his hair, draws him closer to her, presses herself against him. He's hard, and a voice in her head speaks, tells her this is wrong, that she's messed up --
She ignores it, and touches his cock, wraps her hand around it and strokes slowly. He groans in her ear, soft and low, and she wants to moan too because of the way he sounds. She doesn't, though, but she does squeeze gently, does slip down onto her knees to taste him there. She takes him into her mouth, carefully, listens again for his moan.
"Mitsuru -- " he says, choked, and gets his hand in her hair. He tugs a little, but not too roughly, and she's -- she's still lost, still ignoring the small voice of sanity inside herself, the tiny voice that's worried about Minato and Yukari, that knows this has just gone crazy and that she should stop. She sucks gently, like this is instinct, like she's done this a thousand times before; she scrapes her teeth over the tip of Akihiko's cock just lightly, and feels him shudder, and knows it wasn't too much. His hands tangle in her hair more, not tugging now, just taking a hold, and she takes him in deeper. "Mitsuru," he says, again. She tries not to hear, tries not to let his voice cut through the confusing fog.
It's easy to figure this out, to figure out how to touch him, how to bob her head and swallow around him, how to get it just right. Akihiko makes a broken noise, moans, but he doesn't speak again, doesn't say her name. He leans back against the wall and she feels his body shake with tension under her hands. She suddenly, powerfully, wants him to touch her; feels like there's an ache inside her. She moves one hand down, rubs at her clit and pushes her fingers inside herself, and everything feels so good, so right, that even the little nagging contrary voice inside stills in wonder. She stands, pulling Akihiko close, letting him back her up against the wall, the tiles cool against her hot back. She kisses him again and again, biting at his lip, as he runs his hands over her and hooks her legs up around his waist.
The voice inside cries out in sharp sudden warning, but it's too late and most of her just doesn't care. Dizzily, she wonders if it will always feel this good. She digs her fingers into Akihiko's shoulders, moves against him, their bodies finding an easy rhythm together. Not so different to how they fight, falling into patterns, complementing each other. He thrusts deeper, so deep, and she arches, cries out his name softly, hears the sound get swallowed up in the thick air. He buries his face against her, kisses, bites, and she just pants for breath and rakes her nails over his back.
It doesn't take long. In just a moment he's stiffening, crying out, biting harder. The voice inside her is drowned for a minute as it sweeps over her too, an orgasm harder and longer than she's ever known before, and she clutches at him, leaves the marks of her nails deeper in his shoulders.
"Mitsuru," he says, after a moment, and then, with growing horror, "Mitsuru!"
Slowly, slowly they part. Akihiko can't seem to look at her.
"Minato," she says, crisply, when she thinks she has it all again. She moves under the shower, rinses herself quickly, and then steps out, finding a towel. Somehow her hair is barely wet, just the ends, curling more. There are tangles, but it looks no worse than it usually does after a hard fight. Akihiko is moving slowly, like he's numb. She darts him a quick look. "Come on, Akihiko. Yukari and Minato might need our help."
"Mitsuru -- "
"Not now," she says, willing herself to be hard, cold, unyielding, ice. Akihiko shakes his head one more time, like he's shaking away the last of the fog, and then finally he's moving, sliding into his clothes, finding his gloves.
"I'm ready," he says, and Mitsuru leads the way out.
Main characters: Akihiko, Mitsuru
Referenced characters: N/a
Pairing: Akihiko/Mitsuru
Contains: Dubcon, sex
Rating: NC17
Summary: The fog is thick in her head, so thick she can hardly think.
Note: Set during June's full moon, hence the dubious consent.
The stream is heavy, thick, like the fog in her head. Akihiko's hands are warm, warmer than they should be. They're rough against her bare skin, the hands of a fighter, and for once -- for once Mitsuru wants to yield, to give. His mouth is on the back of her neck, hot, wet, tasting her, and she knows she should be flinging him off, but she just shudders. He bites down, lightly, and she gasps aloud, sucking in a deep breath of the steam that seems to mess things up even more. Mitsuru turns then, finds his mouth with her own blindly. She fists a hand in his hair, draws him closer to her, presses herself against him. He's hard, and a voice in her head speaks, tells her this is wrong, that she's messed up --
She ignores it, and touches his cock, wraps her hand around it and strokes slowly. He groans in her ear, soft and low, and she wants to moan too because of the way he sounds. She doesn't, though, but she does squeeze gently, does slip down onto her knees to taste him there. She takes him into her mouth, carefully, listens again for his moan.
"Mitsuru -- " he says, choked, and gets his hand in her hair. He tugs a little, but not too roughly, and she's -- she's still lost, still ignoring the small voice of sanity inside herself, the tiny voice that's worried about Minato and Yukari, that knows this has just gone crazy and that she should stop. She sucks gently, like this is instinct, like she's done this a thousand times before; she scrapes her teeth over the tip of Akihiko's cock just lightly, and feels him shudder, and knows it wasn't too much. His hands tangle in her hair more, not tugging now, just taking a hold, and she takes him in deeper. "Mitsuru," he says, again. She tries not to hear, tries not to let his voice cut through the confusing fog.
It's easy to figure this out, to figure out how to touch him, how to bob her head and swallow around him, how to get it just right. Akihiko makes a broken noise, moans, but he doesn't speak again, doesn't say her name. He leans back against the wall and she feels his body shake with tension under her hands. She suddenly, powerfully, wants him to touch her; feels like there's an ache inside her. She moves one hand down, rubs at her clit and pushes her fingers inside herself, and everything feels so good, so right, that even the little nagging contrary voice inside stills in wonder. She stands, pulling Akihiko close, letting him back her up against the wall, the tiles cool against her hot back. She kisses him again and again, biting at his lip, as he runs his hands over her and hooks her legs up around his waist.
The voice inside cries out in sharp sudden warning, but it's too late and most of her just doesn't care. Dizzily, she wonders if it will always feel this good. She digs her fingers into Akihiko's shoulders, moves against him, their bodies finding an easy rhythm together. Not so different to how they fight, falling into patterns, complementing each other. He thrusts deeper, so deep, and she arches, cries out his name softly, hears the sound get swallowed up in the thick air. He buries his face against her, kisses, bites, and she just pants for breath and rakes her nails over his back.
It doesn't take long. In just a moment he's stiffening, crying out, biting harder. The voice inside her is drowned for a minute as it sweeps over her too, an orgasm harder and longer than she's ever known before, and she clutches at him, leaves the marks of her nails deeper in his shoulders.
"Mitsuru," he says, after a moment, and then, with growing horror, "Mitsuru!"
Slowly, slowly they part. Akihiko can't seem to look at her.
"Minato," she says, crisply, when she thinks she has it all again. She moves under the shower, rinses herself quickly, and then steps out, finding a towel. Somehow her hair is barely wet, just the ends, curling more. There are tangles, but it looks no worse than it usually does after a hard fight. Akihiko is moving slowly, like he's numb. She darts him a quick look. "Come on, Akihiko. Yukari and Minato might need our help."
"Mitsuru -- "
"Not now," she says, willing herself to be hard, cold, unyielding, ice. Akihiko shakes his head one more time, like he's shaking away the last of the fog, and then finally he's moving, sliding into his clothes, finding his gloves.
"I'm ready," he says, and Mitsuru leads the way out.