MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLLIDAYS!
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE!
I hope you are all having an excellent time!
This is the time where I would post up all the requests that people have made, and I am posting some of them, but unfortunately I have not had the time to write out all of them and have also been dealing with a particularly vicious writer's block. Suffice it to say I have some of them but not all, the rest of which I will get out to all of you excellent people before the New Year (seeing as I have all of them either started or thought out). So I apologize heartily and hope you will all forgive me and enjoy these fics while I get the rest written out.
SO, on to the stories in no particular order. (hopefully all the lj cuts will work properly for me)
Xuannie requested a crossover between Arashi and Wiess Creuz..and this is what came out of it.
Aiba didn’t really mind the dress all that much; it was long and pretty and it swished. He actually found himself thinking of whether he could possibly fly in that dress, using the fluttery skirt as a sort of parachute and the billowy, lacy sleeves as wings. Even the color of the dress fit the idea, colors bright and garrulous and clashing into each other, but in what Aiba personally thought was a tasteful way - and he even had a matching bow in his hair for the overall plumage effect.
In fact, he found the skirt rather freeing and almost twirled, and would have, had he not seen the most fitting purple-red-magenta with a yellow center flowers. They didn’t quite match this dress -- which upon loosing the dare he had to wear outside for an hour - but Aiba thought they were sufficiently pretty and would maybe even smell wonderful and so of course he pushed open the door to see if he could buy them.
When Yoji heard the bell jingle, he turned immediately to the door, flirtatious smile already firmly in place, already purring out an inviting welcome, and found that he was promptly ignored, in favor for…flowers.
Yet, whereas at most other times he would have been happy to go back to flirting with his previously entertained admirers, he found himself curious about this brand new visitor and so he sauntered himself over to the girl and tapped her gently on the shoulder, mouth already open to produce an innuendo-laden line.
And that was when she turned around - bright-eyed and sunny-smiled, and bringing the pot of flowers with him in a careless arc - and had Yoji not jumped back with assassin-honed reflexes the collision might have been painful and the flowers ruined.
“How much, ne?” the voice was utterly fitting to the overall chirpy countenance of the girl, if somehow strangely low.
Yoji mustered up another flirtations smile with a bit more force than usual - this girl had after all thrown him off his game more than once now:
“Well for a beautiful girl such as yourself…”
He never got to finish his sentence as the girl rocked away from him with a loud exclamation of “girl?” followed by raucous, high-pitched laughter - it was surprising that in the middle of all this the pot of flowers had not been lost on the floor, not even any dirt spilled in the semi-wild flailing.
As Yoji stood stupefied, the ‘girl’ swished past Yoji to the counter, cradling the flowers carefully to his chest, even as his other mannerisms continued to be anything but contained.
“You do have a strange taste in girls, dontcha?” was thrown over his shoulder, still quite loudly.
Yoji could not contain his blush of mortification as even Omi failed to hide an amused smile.
What kind of guy wore a dress so easily anyways?
THE END.
Andi requested Ohmiya with the keyword: dancing and an AU came out of that one ><;; ... so here..
Nino fidgeted moodily before the closed door of his father’s club. This was stupid - he would have been a lot more happy to slip through the back door - why did his father have to insist that ‘no son of his could go through the back door like a common server’? It was irrational.
Then again, so was standing out here in front of a door proclaiming ‘closed’.
And so with an impatient huff he put the key into the lock and pushed the door, stepping inside and blinking at the change of lighting. It is almost too dark in the currently inactive club, shadows encroaching hungrily on even the small puddles of hazy red and blue coming from hidden lights in the corners of the large ballroom.
Being in the state of irritation and an almost painful need to move, Nino didn’t quite stop to wait for his eyes to adjust, instead taking a few brisk steps inside before stilling abruptly as he notices that the place is not quite as empty as he figured it would be.
His dismay quickly turns into a sort of wonder as he watches the carelessly graceful movements of the boy dancing between the tables, singing snatches of the song playing almost silently.
He doesn’t even notice that he is stepping closer until a floorboard creaks and the boy spins around lazily, tilting his head to the side mutely, eyes almost seeming to look past him.
Nino isn’t quite sure what to say, eyes rapidly cataloguing dark eyes, slightly too-sharp nose, full lips and wonders why the boy doesn’t say something like ‘we’re closed’. He finds that the hazy stare is a bit uncomfortable and so steps a bit closer, voice almost harshly loud for the atmosphere:
“Nice moves, you work here?”
The words sound almost too stupid even as they come out of his mouth, of course he would be working here. Why else would he be holding a cleaning rag and actually be inside a closed club? Nino found then that his emotions were swinging back to his previous irritated state, which was only increased as the boy in front of him just smiled vaguely at him and answered to a question he was positive he had not asked.
“My name is Ohno Satoshi.”
Nino is about to snap something particularly venomous when the now named boy reaches out his hands, eyes finally focusing on him and Nino is almost mesmerized by the new and completely unexpected intensity in that gaze. He isn’t sure quite what it is that makes him stretch out his own hand - after all Ohno had been cleaning and really it isn’t as if he shakes hands with random strangers - but he is once again completely surprised as their fingers brush, because the other boy takes the opportunity to send them into a silent spin just as the music reaches its crescendo.
Nino finds himself smiling even as he strives to pull away.
Perhaps it was a good thing that he listened to his father for once.
THE END
Tash asked for Sakumiya showersmut..and this is what happened with that...
Sho had a certain sort of order for everything he did. This included a careful step by step routine in the shower. Sho didn’t particularly understand how some people proclaimed that the shower was a safe haven away from the real world; more specifically when Nino exclaimed happily about the great pleasure of the water pattering on his back, the calming warmth, he had looked at him with wide eyes and disbelieving laughter and had mostly dismissed the idea.
Showers were, after all, just for getting clean.
Sho was just getting to the last part of his routine, bending down slightly to pick up that small bottle of shampoo when something warmer than the water of the shower molded to his back.
Sho most definitely did not let out high pitches squeak.
Nor did he flail madly.
Nor did careful, cradling hands have to hold him up when he slipped in what was definitely not fear.
Indeed not.
There was soft laugher in his ear, slick flesh sliding against him, teasing kisses against the base of his neck. Sho wasn’t quite sure what to think about this, in fact, he couldn’t even wrap his head around why this was happening, but even though his routine was broken, it was in no way a…displeasure.
“Oh Sho-chan? Lets see if I can prove me point about showers hmm?”
Sho’s mind was still drawing a blank, not yet catching up with this new but decidedly not unwelcome development when he was spun around - once again in danger of meeting the floor of the shower with more than just his feet - and pushed into the wall of the shower. He only saw a hint of curled lips, a glint of sparkling, mischievous eyes before he was staring once again at the far wall of the shower.
What?
O-oh…
Sho’s hands tangled in slightly wet hair, head hitting the wall with a dull thud, hips thrusting forward in immediate and not quite conscious abandon and he was enveloped by delicious warmth - almost too-hot, too-slick, too-good.
Sho thought he could understand what Nino said about the massaging patter of the shower-drops. Each insistent drop added to the experience, carving small rivulets of pleasure on his already too sensitive-skin, running happily downwards to meet and blend with the mind-numbing bliss below.
Hands were almost like brands on his skin.
Every new and old sensation blending seamlessly to bring him ever closer to the edge.
And
and…
This time Sho did slide down to the floor as his legs gave out, wrapping his arms shakily around soft body, kissing those lips, tasting that slight tang that could be nothing else, shuddering slightly as the waterdroplets continued the tease him laughingly, coaxingly.
“So do I win Sho-kun?”
The voice was light and teasing and already entirely too smug.
Sho found that perhaps showers could mean more than getting clean.
He also found, that he quite liked the idea of making a new routine, figuring Nino would fit in more perfectly than any other step.
THE END
And the last for today would be Jemz...who requested w-inds. which I have never tried to write before...while it is not for the prompt which she requested on the other post, this is for her other prompt of "headaches"..so i hope this turned out semi decent..being my first attempt at this fandom and all...
Ryohei found himself unable to keep his eyes open as the pounding in his head reached a new crescendo, spiraling and vibrating right behind his eyes and tap dancing its way through the inside of his scull.
At times like this, Ryohei found the whole world a little bit annoying -- full of sounds that were too loud, colors that were a little too bright, motions a smidge too painful to stomach. And so, he would try to pass through such painful, too-long parts of life by sitting incredibly still with his eyes closed and the droning in his ears doing at least one good thing by blocking out all extra noises.
Noises like the air-conditioning, or the loud music bouncing out of the walls, or the less-than-stealthy movements of Ryuchi sneaking ever closer to his little spot of quiet misery.
Ryohei decided fuzzily that opening his eyes would be more detrimental than letting Ryu do whatever he had in mind, and thus remained quite unmoving, trying faithfully to keep his breath from hitching and focusing his hearing on the soft, steady click of fingernails on the wooden floor, the near-silent shift of cloth, instead of the hammering in his head and the sound of his own, too-loud heartbeat.
There was a moment of silence, and Ryohei almost opened his mouth to tell the other that he was aware of his presence, but at that moment there was a warm, wiggling weight pressed against the front of him an gently hands skimming over his hair, face, lips. It was almost as if another world intruded in on his own; as if this bright - albeit silent - sun had brushed too close to his, tipping the careful balance into chaotic confusion.
It was almost more painful this way.
He was already pushing weakly at the too-warm body in front of him before he realized - a weak protest - but there were soft, lulling murmurs and tender, massaging hands at the sides of his head and an all imcomesing motion against him and he found himself drowning, not in pain now, but in soothing contentment.
Ryohei soon realized that he was relaxed against the wall, and that his arms were wrapped tight around Ryuchi and that the pounding in his head had been replaced by a gently purring haze.
He smiled and opened his eyes.
“Next time just let me help, ne?”
His voice was very carefully low, with that light squeak at the end -- a rise that is a little too sharp and bouncy on that last word -- like he wished he could say that with all the energy and volume his usual voice contains, but watchfully held back.
This was all very considerate of him.
Amazingly thoughtful.
Selflessly caring.
Loving.
Ryohei doubted that he would ever let a headache go away on its own again.
THE END
That is all for now. I am sorry for all those that did not get their fics yet, and its not because I love you any less, I swear..its just because I fail...and my writter's block is horrid...so! I will get the rest out soon..and hope that the people who got theirs are happy with the results...
once again MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!
I hope you are all having an excellent time!
This is the time where I would post up all the requests that people have made, and I am posting some of them, but unfortunately I have not had the time to write out all of them and have also been dealing with a particularly vicious writer's block. Suffice it to say I have some of them but not all, the rest of which I will get out to all of you excellent people before the New Year (seeing as I have all of them either started or thought out). So I apologize heartily and hope you will all forgive me and enjoy these fics while I get the rest written out.
SO, on to the stories in no particular order. (hopefully all the lj cuts will work properly for me)
Xuannie requested a crossover between Arashi and Wiess Creuz..and this is what came out of it.
Aiba didn’t really mind the dress all that much; it was long and pretty and it swished. He actually found himself thinking of whether he could possibly fly in that dress, using the fluttery skirt as a sort of parachute and the billowy, lacy sleeves as wings. Even the color of the dress fit the idea, colors bright and garrulous and clashing into each other, but in what Aiba personally thought was a tasteful way - and he even had a matching bow in his hair for the overall plumage effect.
In fact, he found the skirt rather freeing and almost twirled, and would have, had he not seen the most fitting purple-red-magenta with a yellow center flowers. They didn’t quite match this dress -- which upon loosing the dare he had to wear outside for an hour - but Aiba thought they were sufficiently pretty and would maybe even smell wonderful and so of course he pushed open the door to see if he could buy them.
When Yoji heard the bell jingle, he turned immediately to the door, flirtatious smile already firmly in place, already purring out an inviting welcome, and found that he was promptly ignored, in favor for…flowers.
Yet, whereas at most other times he would have been happy to go back to flirting with his previously entertained admirers, he found himself curious about this brand new visitor and so he sauntered himself over to the girl and tapped her gently on the shoulder, mouth already open to produce an innuendo-laden line.
And that was when she turned around - bright-eyed and sunny-smiled, and bringing the pot of flowers with him in a careless arc - and had Yoji not jumped back with assassin-honed reflexes the collision might have been painful and the flowers ruined.
“How much, ne?” the voice was utterly fitting to the overall chirpy countenance of the girl, if somehow strangely low.
Yoji mustered up another flirtations smile with a bit more force than usual - this girl had after all thrown him off his game more than once now:
“Well for a beautiful girl such as yourself…”
He never got to finish his sentence as the girl rocked away from him with a loud exclamation of “girl?” followed by raucous, high-pitched laughter - it was surprising that in the middle of all this the pot of flowers had not been lost on the floor, not even any dirt spilled in the semi-wild flailing.
As Yoji stood stupefied, the ‘girl’ swished past Yoji to the counter, cradling the flowers carefully to his chest, even as his other mannerisms continued to be anything but contained.
“You do have a strange taste in girls, dontcha?” was thrown over his shoulder, still quite loudly.
Yoji could not contain his blush of mortification as even Omi failed to hide an amused smile.
What kind of guy wore a dress so easily anyways?
THE END.
Andi requested Ohmiya with the keyword: dancing and an AU came out of that one ><;; ... so here..
Nino fidgeted moodily before the closed door of his father’s club. This was stupid - he would have been a lot more happy to slip through the back door - why did his father have to insist that ‘no son of his could go through the back door like a common server’? It was irrational.
Then again, so was standing out here in front of a door proclaiming ‘closed’.
And so with an impatient huff he put the key into the lock and pushed the door, stepping inside and blinking at the change of lighting. It is almost too dark in the currently inactive club, shadows encroaching hungrily on even the small puddles of hazy red and blue coming from hidden lights in the corners of the large ballroom.
Being in the state of irritation and an almost painful need to move, Nino didn’t quite stop to wait for his eyes to adjust, instead taking a few brisk steps inside before stilling abruptly as he notices that the place is not quite as empty as he figured it would be.
His dismay quickly turns into a sort of wonder as he watches the carelessly graceful movements of the boy dancing between the tables, singing snatches of the song playing almost silently.
He doesn’t even notice that he is stepping closer until a floorboard creaks and the boy spins around lazily, tilting his head to the side mutely, eyes almost seeming to look past him.
Nino isn’t quite sure what to say, eyes rapidly cataloguing dark eyes, slightly too-sharp nose, full lips and wonders why the boy doesn’t say something like ‘we’re closed’. He finds that the hazy stare is a bit uncomfortable and so steps a bit closer, voice almost harshly loud for the atmosphere:
“Nice moves, you work here?”
The words sound almost too stupid even as they come out of his mouth, of course he would be working here. Why else would he be holding a cleaning rag and actually be inside a closed club? Nino found then that his emotions were swinging back to his previous irritated state, which was only increased as the boy in front of him just smiled vaguely at him and answered to a question he was positive he had not asked.
“My name is Ohno Satoshi.”
Nino is about to snap something particularly venomous when the now named boy reaches out his hands, eyes finally focusing on him and Nino is almost mesmerized by the new and completely unexpected intensity in that gaze. He isn’t sure quite what it is that makes him stretch out his own hand - after all Ohno had been cleaning and really it isn’t as if he shakes hands with random strangers - but he is once again completely surprised as their fingers brush, because the other boy takes the opportunity to send them into a silent spin just as the music reaches its crescendo.
Nino finds himself smiling even as he strives to pull away.
Perhaps it was a good thing that he listened to his father for once.
THE END
Tash asked for Sakumiya showersmut..and this is what happened with that...
Sho had a certain sort of order for everything he did. This included a careful step by step routine in the shower. Sho didn’t particularly understand how some people proclaimed that the shower was a safe haven away from the real world; more specifically when Nino exclaimed happily about the great pleasure of the water pattering on his back, the calming warmth, he had looked at him with wide eyes and disbelieving laughter and had mostly dismissed the idea.
Showers were, after all, just for getting clean.
Sho was just getting to the last part of his routine, bending down slightly to pick up that small bottle of shampoo when something warmer than the water of the shower molded to his back.
Sho most definitely did not let out high pitches squeak.
Nor did he flail madly.
Nor did careful, cradling hands have to hold him up when he slipped in what was definitely not fear.
Indeed not.
There was soft laugher in his ear, slick flesh sliding against him, teasing kisses against the base of his neck. Sho wasn’t quite sure what to think about this, in fact, he couldn’t even wrap his head around why this was happening, but even though his routine was broken, it was in no way a…displeasure.
“Oh Sho-chan? Lets see if I can prove me point about showers hmm?”
Sho’s mind was still drawing a blank, not yet catching up with this new but decidedly not unwelcome development when he was spun around - once again in danger of meeting the floor of the shower with more than just his feet - and pushed into the wall of the shower. He only saw a hint of curled lips, a glint of sparkling, mischievous eyes before he was staring once again at the far wall of the shower.
What?
O-oh…
Sho’s hands tangled in slightly wet hair, head hitting the wall with a dull thud, hips thrusting forward in immediate and not quite conscious abandon and he was enveloped by delicious warmth - almost too-hot, too-slick, too-good.
Sho thought he could understand what Nino said about the massaging patter of the shower-drops. Each insistent drop added to the experience, carving small rivulets of pleasure on his already too sensitive-skin, running happily downwards to meet and blend with the mind-numbing bliss below.
Hands were almost like brands on his skin.
Every new and old sensation blending seamlessly to bring him ever closer to the edge.
And
and…
This time Sho did slide down to the floor as his legs gave out, wrapping his arms shakily around soft body, kissing those lips, tasting that slight tang that could be nothing else, shuddering slightly as the waterdroplets continued the tease him laughingly, coaxingly.
“So do I win Sho-kun?”
The voice was light and teasing and already entirely too smug.
Sho found that perhaps showers could mean more than getting clean.
He also found, that he quite liked the idea of making a new routine, figuring Nino would fit in more perfectly than any other step.
THE END
And the last for today would be Jemz...who requested w-inds. which I have never tried to write before...while it is not for the prompt which she requested on the other post, this is for her other prompt of "headaches"..so i hope this turned out semi decent..being my first attempt at this fandom and all...
Ryohei found himself unable to keep his eyes open as the pounding in his head reached a new crescendo, spiraling and vibrating right behind his eyes and tap dancing its way through the inside of his scull.
At times like this, Ryohei found the whole world a little bit annoying -- full of sounds that were too loud, colors that were a little too bright, motions a smidge too painful to stomach. And so, he would try to pass through such painful, too-long parts of life by sitting incredibly still with his eyes closed and the droning in his ears doing at least one good thing by blocking out all extra noises.
Noises like the air-conditioning, or the loud music bouncing out of the walls, or the less-than-stealthy movements of Ryuchi sneaking ever closer to his little spot of quiet misery.
Ryohei decided fuzzily that opening his eyes would be more detrimental than letting Ryu do whatever he had in mind, and thus remained quite unmoving, trying faithfully to keep his breath from hitching and focusing his hearing on the soft, steady click of fingernails on the wooden floor, the near-silent shift of cloth, instead of the hammering in his head and the sound of his own, too-loud heartbeat.
There was a moment of silence, and Ryohei almost opened his mouth to tell the other that he was aware of his presence, but at that moment there was a warm, wiggling weight pressed against the front of him an gently hands skimming over his hair, face, lips. It was almost as if another world intruded in on his own; as if this bright - albeit silent - sun had brushed too close to his, tipping the careful balance into chaotic confusion.
It was almost more painful this way.
He was already pushing weakly at the too-warm body in front of him before he realized - a weak protest - but there were soft, lulling murmurs and tender, massaging hands at the sides of his head and an all imcomesing motion against him and he found himself drowning, not in pain now, but in soothing contentment.
Ryohei soon realized that he was relaxed against the wall, and that his arms were wrapped tight around Ryuchi and that the pounding in his head had been replaced by a gently purring haze.
He smiled and opened his eyes.
“Next time just let me help, ne?”
His voice was very carefully low, with that light squeak at the end -- a rise that is a little too sharp and bouncy on that last word -- like he wished he could say that with all the energy and volume his usual voice contains, but watchfully held back.
This was all very considerate of him.
Amazingly thoughtful.
Selflessly caring.
Loving.
Ryohei doubted that he would ever let a headache go away on its own again.
THE END
That is all for now. I am sorry for all those that did not get their fics yet, and its not because I love you any less, I swear..its just because I fail...and my writter's block is horrid...so! I will get the rest out soon..and hope that the people who got theirs are happy with the results...
once again MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!