[Persona 3] Weakness
Mar. 11th, 2012 04:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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rose_in_winterCharacters: Akihiko/Mitsuru
Rating: R
Contains: Sex, persona meta
Wordcount: 365
Notes: Written forareyougame.
Betas: None
Summary: She commands his weakness. Akihiko doesn't mind. Postgame (i.e. characters are over 18.)
He can feel the ice under her skin.
It is particularly noticeable when Mitsuru has let go of the icy shell she wears around everyone else (he finds it funny that her ice is closest to the surface when she's not deliberately calling it): when she's almost asleep, those rare unguarded moments when they are together, and when they are in bed together.
It is happening now, when she is on top of him and moving at a rhythm that makes his breath catch. The streetlight outside gleams on her skin, casts shadows where her hair tumbles loose around her shoulders, makes her look almost like the mysterious goddess who resides in her mind and fights for and with her.
When Artemisia sings under Mitsuru's skin, Caesar flinches; he knows just what Artemisia's ice can do to him. And while Akihiko likes the sting and flex of Mitsuru's nails against his skin (like now, when he slips his fingers between them to touch her the way she likes best), he isn't in any rush to feel the nerve-searing pain of ice striking straight at his weakness and bringing him to his knees.
He can feel the little tremors in her muscles as she gets close, and Caesar rears to the surface as Artemisia rises beneath Mitsuru's skin; he's grateful, actually, because having to fight Caesar distracts him from just how good Mitsuru feels, and that means he's not quite so close to losing it himself.
She gasps, her voice catching on his name, and he can feel the chill in her skin as her hands clutch at his shoulders and her nails flex into his skin, and then he feels the long slow shudder when she comes, and he can let himself go. His hands might leave marks on her thighs, but she's never minded before.
She slumps forward onto his chest and he holds her close, combing his fingers through her sweat-dampened hair. Artemisia retreats, and it's just Mitsuru in his arms, warm and sticky and perfect.
Mitsuru can bring him to his knees with a spell, or simply by being herself, and he would be grateful to be there.
Rating: R
Contains: Sex, persona meta
Wordcount: 365
Notes: Written for
areyougame.Betas: None
Summary: She commands his weakness. Akihiko doesn't mind. Postgame (i.e. characters are over 18.)
He can feel the ice under her skin.
It is particularly noticeable when Mitsuru has let go of the icy shell she wears around everyone else (he finds it funny that her ice is closest to the surface when she's not deliberately calling it): when she's almost asleep, those rare unguarded moments when they are together, and when they are in bed together.
It is happening now, when she is on top of him and moving at a rhythm that makes his breath catch. The streetlight outside gleams on her skin, casts shadows where her hair tumbles loose around her shoulders, makes her look almost like the mysterious goddess who resides in her mind and fights for and with her.
When Artemisia sings under Mitsuru's skin, Caesar flinches; he knows just what Artemisia's ice can do to him. And while Akihiko likes the sting and flex of Mitsuru's nails against his skin (like now, when he slips his fingers between them to touch her the way she likes best), he isn't in any rush to feel the nerve-searing pain of ice striking straight at his weakness and bringing him to his knees.
He can feel the little tremors in her muscles as she gets close, and Caesar rears to the surface as Artemisia rises beneath Mitsuru's skin; he's grateful, actually, because having to fight Caesar distracts him from just how good Mitsuru feels, and that means he's not quite so close to losing it himself.
She gasps, her voice catching on his name, and he can feel the chill in her skin as her hands clutch at his shoulders and her nails flex into his skin, and then he feels the long slow shudder when she comes, and he can let himself go. His hands might leave marks on her thighs, but she's never minded before.
She slumps forward onto his chest and he holds her close, combing his fingers through her sweat-dampened hair. Artemisia retreats, and it's just Mitsuru in his arms, warm and sticky and perfect.
Mitsuru can bring him to his knees with a spell, or simply by being herself, and he would be grateful to be there.