Hello anyone who's reading this.
You may be very confused about a lot of my work, since it only briefly mentions anything actually in the Persona Series. This Note is to explain why.
There is a place irl called the Phansite. In fact, the site is phan s ite . n e t (plz take out the spaces if you wanna use). My fanfics come from the PMs section of the site, and the lovely creator, Mishima, checks it over.
I sometimes get emails or PMs saying they don't really get why my work is in the Persona area, or that it's too vague to be there and it should be moved to other areas of Fan fiction . net, but here's my reasoning for keeping it in the Persona area:
These fics are mostly based off Phansite regular RP-ers who often give me ideas for my shipping and writing. Since the Phansite was very much a Persona aspect (Persona 5, to be exact), it's the reason I keep posting in the Persona section. It's not a massive 'F-YOU' to the people who read it (quite the opposite actually). It's to introduce outsiders into the world that reality Phansite has created.
So please keep that in mind when reading my work, since a lot of it (especially if it says "PMs" in the title, or "Phansite") is directly from a rabid fan's perspective.
Thank you to all who took the time to read this.
-lmBH
Also: Aishi, PB, I am so sorry. This was a moment of weakness and I'm sorry I failed you ;_;
Enjoy!
In the otherwise empty Uno room, Ake pinned Picasso to the wall. Picasso could say he was shocked, only he would've been lying. For the past hour, he'd been screaming out 'SUCK ME DADDY!' and 'SHOVE MY CARDS UP YOUR ASS!'. How could he expect Ake to react?
"You're quite delectable in this light, you know that?" Ake purred, digging his nose into the quivering male beneath him.
"Please… H-have mercy…" Picasso whimpered. Ake dragged his nails along the smaller boy's wrists, pushing him harder into the plastered wall. Ake hummed into the side of Picasso's neck, causing sharp tingles to zap across his chest. Breathing became difficult from the suddenly heated air. Ake, sliding his tongue languidly along the tip of Picasso's left ear, grinned mischievously as Picasso visibly surrendered himself to the taller male.
Deciding that it was better to just give in, Picasso let his back arch with each press of Ake's dexterous fingers. Ake seemed to know every sweet spot and took advantage of each one in abundance save for the main one hanging between the bare man's legs. Ake's knee wedged itself between those long legs, allowing a post for Picasso to grind himself against the taller man's knee. With every press, Picasso would arch further along the thigh, grinding harder and harder each time. His mouth opened in silent moans, to which Ake would insert his thumb into the warm moist opening, eliciting heated pleasure to pool at Picasso's groin. This next-level penetration made Picasso's eyes to roll into the back of his head.
The pleasure only increased tenfold when Ake decided to get creative with his skilled tongue.
Blood rushed to Picasso's head as he bucked his hips into Ake's knee. Dizzying euphoria dominated as Ake's mouth closed around Picasso's, tongue invading the cavern his thumb once inhabited. The kiss sucked the air out of Picasso's lungs making breathing impossible. That burning feeling of inevitable suffocation only egged him on further, Picasso's hips bucking faster and harder into the thigh below him. Ake's grunting was barely heard over the pounding of Picasso's heart. His blood rushed, pounding in his ears as though he were underwater.
Pressure was building. Even as his sight spotted over, Picasso was aware of his balls being caressed. He was especially aware of the sudden chill that accompanied precum beading along the tip of his shaft. Cotton filled his head, and his movements slowed till he was a limp marionette in Ake's grasp. No longer was pleasure being built. No longer could Picasso participate in this erotic dance. He could only gasp in relief as Ake finally released his mouth, allowing him to breathe after long last.
Picasso let Ake press him into the wall and run fingers down his shaft. His mind was stuffed with cotton from oxygen deprivation, his movement non-existent save for desperate breathing. When Ake couldn't get more than a weak whimper for his efforts, he decided to slide his lover down the wall and rest him against the floor.
"Wh—what…?" Picasso breathed out, eyelids half-closed as he recovered.
"That's it, love. I'll let you recover. We'll continue this after you've rested…" Ake whispered, bringing his forehead to rest against the exhausted man's. Picasso's sight clouded over before, finally, he succumbed to the sleep he desperately needed.
With that, Ake finally turned to the Uno room. He was definitely glad he'd locked the door before he'd pinned Picasso.
The camera in the corner still had a red light blinking. Ake smirked.
I'm sure Doll enjoyed the show.
AN: I... I did enjoy this. I enjoyed it a lot. ;_; This was a moment of weakness and I am sorry.
