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27 December 2007 @ 10:50 pm
Some Things Never Change - Aoi/Uruha  
Title: Some Things Never Change
Author: Kagome
Warnings: Sap, sap, and more sap (it might rot your teeth XD), smut.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Aoi/Uruha (the GazettE)
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies.
Summary: The only thing that never changes is change itself, right? Not in Uruha’s opinion.
Comments: This one is nothing but happy this time, I promise! *LOL* In Uruha’s POV, and it is incredibly sappy. Takes place shortly after the removal of Aoi’s lipring. Written for spinshadow, and is a belated Christmas gift. ^_^ Hope you like it~.



Some Things Never Change



When our lips meet now, there is no cool touch of metal—there is just the warmth of his lips against mine. I remember the first time we kissed, and how I had been a bit nervous about his piercing, because I had never kissed anyone with a piercing before. I learned that there was nothing to be nervous about, and I’ve grown accustom to the feel of it. It feels strange to kiss him and not feel that piece of metal against my bottom lip. It feels strange to trace my tongue over his bottom lip now, because his corkscrew piercing is no longer there for me to tease.

Regardless, my lips part for his questing tongue, and when he takes the invitation and his tongue tangles with my own, I moan into his mouth and arch against him, my hands finding and fisting his shirt, trying to drag him closer even though it’s practically impossible—we are as close as we can possibly get to each other. Now, if the pesky clothing wasn’t in the way….

The sweet drag of his mouth along my jaw is familiar and yet unfamiliar at the same time; his piercing is not there to scrape against my skin, but his lips and tongue feel wonderful all the same. They rediscover the most sensitive areas on my neck (he teases at that spot just behind my ear quite deliberately) before moving on, gliding smoothly over one collarbone and then the other.

“Why are we still wearing clothes?” he asks me, and then his tongue tickles the hollow of my throat and I almost laugh, the sound abruptly cut off as he slides warm hands beneath my shirt, fingers playing over bare skin.

“I don’t know,” I manage to finally answer as I tug at his shirt again, hoping he’ll get the point. “I was going to ask you that, myself.”

He draws back and smiles at me, and even that is different—there is no glint of metal to accent the smugness of his smile. I feel some strange ache at its absence, as silly as that might sound. But I know he feels the same. I’ve seen him gaze at himself in the mirror; I’ve seen him focus on the spot where the piercing once was. I’ve seen him run his tongue over his bottom lip, only to pause and furrow his brows slightly in confusion when he realizes again that he has removed the piercing.

“I’m getting old,” he had told me last week, when he had removed it. “How many people keep their facial piercings when they hit their thirties?” he had asked. “How many people still have all of their facial piercings right now? I’ve seen so many artists get rid of theirs, and they aren’t even as old as me.”

“You aren’t old,” I had assured him. “You’re only twenty-eight. Miyavi-kun still--”

“Miyavi-kun still has a few years,” he had interrupted. “He’s only twenty-six, after all.” Then he had sighed and looked away from me. “How do you think I’d look with a nose stud? Nothing too fancy, just….”

He does look great with the nose stud. He likes it, too, but he has told me that it isn’t quite the same. I suppose it’s just something he has to get used to. I don’t quite understand why he’d trade one piercing for another, but perhaps the nose stud doesn’t draw the attention that his lipring did. I don’t pretend to know his reasons—I just offer my support, as I always have.

“Let me take your shirt off.” His voice pulls me back to the here-and-now, and I nod, sitting up a little and lifting my arms, helping him take my shirt off. As soon as the pesky article of clothing is removed, he flashes another grin at me and then he lowers his mouth and closes his lips around my left nipple, sucking hard enough to bow my spine.

I make a soft sound low in my throat and slide both of my hands beneath the back of his shirt, nails just barely digging into his skin. “Will you let me take your shirt off, too? I want to feel your skin against mine.”

“No,” he replies simply, turning his attention to my right nipple, licking and sucking it until it is hardened and overly-sensitive. Then he tweaks both wet nipples, and I squirm without meaning to, cursing softly under my breath. He chuckles and continues speaking: “Not yet, anyway. Let me indulge, won’t you, baby? And you just sit back and enjoy.”

Well, only an idiot would say no to something like that, coming from him. I nod, though I pout at the same time and keep my hands beneath his shirt, resting on the warmth of his back. “Just cos you’re getting your way doesn’t mean that I don’t still want you naked.”

He laughs and kisses my pout (and my breath) away. “I know. All in good time.” And then he is moving, kissing his way down my chest and abdomen, pausing at the white pants I am currently wearing. “Hmm. I’ve managed to run into another obstacle, it seems.”

“They say that the best thing to do with an obstacle is to remove it,” I remind him helpfully as I move restlessly beneath him, lifting my hips up.

“Do they?” he asks, amusement dancing in his eyes as he rubs the palm of his hand roughly over my erection. It’s in moments like these that he still seems perfectly like himself, dorky and sexy and cute and funny, and not worried about what getting older might mean for his image. Throughout the past several days, I’ve actually wondered if the loss of his lipring has caused him to lose part of himself, too. But then, when he and I are together like this, he is still the same person I fell in love with—he will always be the same person I fell in love with, despite whatever changes might occur, internally or externally.

His fingers squeeze me through the material of my pants, and I don’t trust my voice, so I answer him by nodding and rocking my hips upward, seeking friction.

He smirks and moves his hand, unbuttoning and unzipping my pants with nimble fingers. “As long as you say so,” he breathes as he reaches inside my pants, his fingers lightly caressing the head of my cock. He lifts his head, looks straight into my eyes, and says, “I want to taste you,” and my length twitches in response to his words.

“Then taste,” I reply, my own voice a low, need-roughened whisper. I lift my hips even more, thighs trembling as he begins tugging at my pants, pulling them (and my boxers) down the line of my body. They are quickly tossed aside, and then his mouth is mere inches from my cock, and he is doing this on purpose—he is drawing this out on purpose, wanting to see how long I will wait before asking – or begging – him to continue.

“I can smell you.” He closes his eyes and inhales deeply, and then exhales through his mouth, his breath tickling my sensitive skin, making my breath catch. “God, your smell… it’s fucking intoxicating, do you know that?”

I want to tell him that I know the feeling, because the smell of his arousal drives me to insensibility, so I can relate. But he runs his tongue over the head of my cock and I discover that answering his question isn’t really important right now. Earning myself more of that is. “Please,” I whisper. “You’re teasing….”

“You tease, too. Always.” He circles his tongue around the tip and I shudder, another soft moan leaving my lips. “The way you look at me, even when we aren’t alone. The way you touch me. The way you brush against me when you walk past me, even when there’s plenty of room for you to avoid doing so. You tease me on purpose~. Why shouldn’t I retaliate?” His lips close around the head then and he sucks, and I compulsively tighten my hold on his hair, wanting him to take more of me into his mouth, but not pushing him to do so.

He draws back, murmuring against my heated flesh, “And then there’re the other things you do for me. Like making me feel wanted, all of the time. And not thinking I’m insane for some of the things I do.” His head dips down, and then I feel his tongue tracing along the underside of my hardness, from base to tip. “I feel like I take you for granted, sometimes.”

I open my mouth to reassure him, but all that emits from my parted lips is a groan as he takes all of me into his mouth and throat, past his gag reflex, and I cannot think past this haze of pleasure he’s pushed me into. “Fuck,” I whimper, and then he pulls back, and I miss the old familiar scrape of the corkscrew piercing there, too. He used to do it just right—he used to apply just enough pressure to dance that thin line between pleasure and pain, and it used to drive me absolutely wild.

He knows how to compensate, though, and when he swallows my length again, I feel his teeth, and had we not been lovers for so long, had I not trusted him so completely, I would have been a little afraid. But it is not fear that makes me tremble. It is not fear that makes my toes curl. It is not fear that makes me sharply inhale.

His teeth graze along the entire length of my cock, and then I feel his tongue there again, at the slit, and I lift my hips, silently inviting more. His tongue swirls and he takes me in again, slowly beginning to bob his head up and down, and it is wonderful as always, but this is not how I want to come. Not tonight.

I tug at his hair, groaning as he tries to fight, keeping his mouth where it is until I tug a second time. This time, he allows me to pull him away. My cock slides from his mouth with a wet sound, and I groan softly, both at the loss of his mouth on me and at the way he looks right now, eyes heavy-lidded, lips wet.

I pull him down for a kiss and he lets me, lips meeting mine eagerly, his hands moving to cup my face. “I want you,” I whisper against his lips, my own hands finding his shirt again, clutching at it with aching fingers.

I feel him smile against my lips, and then he pulls away, meeting my gaze. “Do you?” he asks, and he licks his lips, making them even wetter. His hands leave my face and slide down my arms, and he catches my wrists. I let go of his shirt and he pins my wrists above my head, rocking his clothed body against my naked one and making me cry out at the almost painful friction. “Ah, yes, you do. I want you, too. Can you feel it?” He grinds his hips against mine again, harder this time, and whatever I might have said is momentarily forgotten, lost in the heat and the almost-painful pleasure and the want.

“… Yes,” I finally reply, voice breathy. “I can.”

Suddenly, the movement of his hips stills, and I whimper in protest, trying to lift my hips up, trying to achieve more friction, but his thighs hold me down. The look on his face becomes one of utter seriousness. “Always. No matter what changes. This won’t.”

I stare up at him, speechless. I am not entirely sure if it’s me he is trying to reassure, or himself. If it’s the latter… that must mean that I haven’t reassured him enough.

“You--” I begin, but he silences me with another kiss, and when the kiss ends, he moves off of me. I sit up, confused and wondering what he’s doing, but then he smiles and I relax, settling back against the mattress.

“You wanted me to take off my clothes, didn’t you?” he asks, and as I nod, he begins a torturously slow striptease, even touching himself as he removes his clothes. However, when I move to touch him, he pulls away and shakes his head. “Nuh-uh~. Not yet.”

When he is finally naked, he reaches for the nightstand, where we keep the lube, and I watch him, eager and impatient, the fingers of both hands twisting the bedsheets into knots.

“Okay, baby,” he purrs once he’s found the lube and returned his attention to me, “now you can touch.”

I feel like I’m in a fog as I reach out for him, hands touching him. The fingers of one hand curl around his length and I delight in the moan that he makes as he presses upwards into my loosely-curled fist. Within seconds, however, he is gently swatting my hand away and opening the lube with slightly-trembling fingers.

“Okay,” he says again, and he slides down my body, coming to a stop between my spread legs. I spread them even wider, allowing him more room, and even now, my hands can’t stay still. I touch his hair, his face, his shoulders—everywhere that I can reach, and he leans into my touches, with low noises of what I believe to be appreciation.

Within seconds, I feel his fingers, slick with lube. They glide over my scrotum and my perineum, circling my entrance before he pushes one finger inside. I raise my hips, his finger slides in deeper, and I clutch at his shoulders, biting back another moan.

“More,” I whisper, eyes sliding closed as he circles that one finger inside of me before curling it, rubbing against my prostate, and my eyes slide shut as I shudder and moan, clutching at his upper arms almost desperately, feeling his muscles shift beneath his skin.

I feel a second finger join the first, and he scissors them, and I practically mewl, pressing my hips down harder. He takes the hint and draws back before thrusting his fingers in hard, and I whisper, “Yes, yes,” and dig my blunt nails into his skin, leaving crescent marks that will fade within minutes.

Then there is a third finger, and my breath catches. As wonderful as it feels, it isn’t enough. It won’t be enough, until he is inside of me—we both know it, and he is going to take pleasure in tormenting me until I spell it out for him.

“Please,” I begin, gentling my grip on his arms, “I need more.” He doesn’t need to hear it, because he knows it. But he likes to hear it and he doesn’t usually cave in until after I have, so I tell him what I know he wants to hear.

And it isn’t enough.

He smiles at me – a beautiful, wicked little grin – and twists his wrist so sharply that my hips snap upward and I almost scream, now holding his biceps in a white-knuckled grip. After a second or two, I realize that I’ve closed my eyes again and I open them almost cautiously, knowing that the look in his eyes will be almost devastating—pleasure and want and smugness and need and love and lust all mixed together.

I am correct.

His eyes are dark and heavy-lidded, and for the time being, at least, it seems as if all the uncertainty has been chased away, replaced with all that I have become accustomed to seeing in his eyes when we are together like this. Though I’ve become accustomed to it, I can honestly say that the effect of that look of his hasn’t changed: that one look never fails to make me forget myself, forget everything but him, every single time.

My gaze finally leaves his eyes and settles on his full, pouty lips, and his smile widens. I watch those lips, my full attention on them (the piercing isn’t there to distract me) as he speaks: “More of what? Of this?” He twists his wrist again and I squirm helplessly beneath him, shaking my head, my words momentarily robbed from me.

When I trust myself enough to speak, I open my mouth again, and my words are low and needy and trembling as they leave my lips. “No. You. In me. Please.”

Still smiling, he slides his fingers out of my body, and I miss the feel of them for a moment, but I know what is coming next, and I know that that will be even better. “Tell me again,” he says, and my eyes stray from his as he reaches for the lube again and squirts a generous amount onto his palm. I swallow hard as he begins stroking himself, unconsciously spreading my thighs wider apart.

“Tell me.” He maneuvers so that he fits comfortably between my legs, and he places one hand on my hip. He uses the other to guide himself to me, and when I feel the slickness of the lube and the heat of his cock pressing against me, I look back up at his face. He is biting his lip (which makes me want to lean up and suck where he is biting), and I can tell – despite his outward appearance that he is in perfect control – that he is having to fight himself to keep from shoving into me.

“I want you,” I tell him again, trying to press my body downwards, trying to force him to enter me, but he shies away, teasing us both. “I want to feel your cock inside of me. I want you to fuck me.” I say his name, then. His real name, not his stage name, and his eyes widen slightly. Without breathing another word, he leans down and kisses me again, and as he kisses me, he begins working his way inside of me. It isn’t necessary to go this slowly and we both know it—it’s useless to try to stave off the inevitable, but I suppose you can’t blame us for wanting something as delicious as this to last as long as possible.

When he is all the way in, he whispers my name, too (not ‘Uruha’, but Kouyou), the kiss broken, but his lips still pressed against my own. Then he groans and I inhale sharply at the sound, feeling myself clench around him. I want him to move - need him to move – but at the same time, I want him to stay just like this. Is that possible, to want two different things at the same time? Well, I suppose it’s possible to want two different things at the same time, but it isn’t possible to actually have those two different things at the same time, is it?

I am attempting to figure out whether I should ask him to move or stay still a bit longer when he makes the decision for me, drawing back and then pushing in again, the movement slow but deep. I moan and clutch at him, murmuring ‘again, again’ against his lips. He does as I ask, and his next thrust is even harder, the angle changing so that he is brushing against my prostate already. I try to protest—try to tell him that it’s too early to be doing that, because there’s no way in hell I’ll last if he keeps going like this. However, he effectively silences me – or, rather, silences my words - as he shoves inside of me again, beginning a rhythm, gradually driving me insane with the sweetest of tortures.

“Always so tight,” he hisses, pulling back, his lips leaving mine. “So fucking perfect.” One of his hands moves, fingers curling tightly around my cock and I nearly scream, my hips moving of their own volition, thrusting up into his fist and then back down onto his length. “I want to see you come,” he continues. “I want to feel you shaking beneath me, clenching around me. I want your cock to throb in my hand. I want your cum on my fingers.” He leans in again, licking at my lips before just as quickly retreating. “I want to hear you say my name again, when you orgasm. Can you do all of those things for me? Will you?”

Breathlessly and wordlessly, I nod, yet again not trusting my voice. If I speak now, my words might not be coherent—they’ll probably all come out in a jumble. A simple ‘yes’ ought to suffice, but I don’t trust myself to say that, either. I do trust myself to nod. It’s the same thing as a ‘yes’, anyway. Yeah, I can do all of those things for him. I will do all of those things for him.

“Good.” He seems to want to say more, but then he pushes forward and in again and squeezes, and I tighten and throb, and he says, “Yesssss, like that,” and the look of pleasure on his face is so fucking beautiful that it’s almost painful for me to see it. How can someone be so beautiful?

“Like that,” I echo, and my voice shakes, just as I suspected it would. He opens his sex-glazed eyes and gazes down at me, making a sound of what I assume is approval, and he begins fucking me faster, his hand matching the movements of his hips. Feeling mindless, I press the back of my head further back into the pillow and close my own eyes, knowing that if I don’t watch him, I can hold on just a little bit longer—a negligible amount, but still. A few seconds is more than nothing at all.

Even with my eyes closed, I can see him. It is like his image is burned into my retinas, and I wouldn’t be surprised at all if it actually is. He keeps moving, faster and harder, and I can tell that he’s close, too. His other arm – the arm that is helping him to keep his balance – is shaking, and I lift my legs, wrapping them tightly around his waist and dragging him closer, drawing him in even deeper. It makes us both cry out, makes us both open our eyes, and we stare at each other, breathing heavily, perfectly still for a span of mere seconds.

Then we are moving again, his hips slamming down and my own rocking to meet his. My eyes are open, but it doesn’t matter. I want to watch him. I want to watch him fuck me. I know that I am already too far gone to hold back now—not even closing my eyes will help. I run my nails down his back and tell him that I’m close and that I don’t want him to stop or slow down.

Perhaps he would have laughed if he hadn’t been so lost in this himself. Perhaps he would have told me that he wasn’t going to stop or slow down. But he doesn’t do either of those things. Instead, he shoves in even harder, pain mixing with pleasure, and he presses his thumb into that sensitive spot just beneath the head of my cock and growls, “Come on, then.”

I feel my body tense up, and then there is sweet release. My nails dig even harder into his skin and I say his name over and over again as I clench around him, shuddering uncontrollably in spite of my attempts to stay relatively still. Throughout my orgasm, his hips keep moving, albeit at a slower pace, and his hand keeps moving as well, milking me dry.

My trembling eventually subsides for the most part, and I slide one hand up, tangling it in his dark hair and pulling him down to me. “Keep going,” I urge as my hips begin rocking again. He keeps gliding over my prostate, and my body is ultra-sensitive now, so that each time we move together, my inner walls tighten around him, and he moans. My spent cock twitches at the sounds he makes.

“I’m--” he begins, but cuts himself off with a near-sob as he clutches at my hips, his nails digging into my skin hard enough to leave marks—hard enough to hurt, but I do not protest. I arch against him, my eyes never leaving his face as he rides out his orgasm. I whisper soft, sweet, nonsense words to him, holding him as he trembles, kissing him even as he moans against my mouth. All the while my eyes stay open, drinking him in.

Eventually, he draws back and slides out of me and I grunt as he does so. He presses a gentle kiss to the corner of my mouth—a silent apology. I watch as he lifts his fingers to his lips, licking some of my cum off of them, and then he offers those fingers to me, and who am I to refuse? I kiss and suck on each digit, tasting myself and tasting his skin. I tease him with the tip of my tongue and he whimpers, and it is music to my ears.

He slithers down my body then, lapping at the bit of remaining come, and I shiver in spite of myself, wondering how long it’ll be before he’s ready for round two. I blush at the thought and he grins up at me, obviously knowing what I’m thinking. “Soon,” he purrs and kisses my thigh.

For a moment, there is silence. He rests his head on my abdomen and I stroke his hair, my hands still somewhat shaky. Then he looks up at me again, completely serious once more, and says: “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I breathe. “Always.”

“Always,” he echoes. “No matter how much either of us changes.”

Have you ever heard the saying, ‘the only thing that never changes is change itself’? It’s a paradox in itself, I suppose, that change can be the only thing that never changes. I both agree and do not agree with that saying.

He and I… we’ll continue to change, both outwardly and on the inside. Our image will change for the band—we’ll dye our hair a thousand more times, we’ll add and/or remove piercings based on our own personal preference, we’ll wear all kinds of different clothes. Our ideas about certain things will continue to change over the years, because that’s how things work. We learn new things. We grow. We get older.

I also believe that it’s possible for some things to never change. Take, for instance, my love for this man. He could go get thirty piercings in various places on his body or he could have all of his piercings removed, he could refuse to wear makeup ever again, he could dye his hair polka-dotted, and I would still love him.

Some things never change. The fact that I love him – that I will always love him – is one of those unchangeable things.

Because when I say always, I mean it.


~END~
 
 
 
andidpandidp on December 28th, 2007 04:39 am (UTC)
...well hang on a damn minute while i collect myself,...
Kagome_newworld on December 28th, 2007 04:43 am (UTC)
Is that a good thing? ^_______^ XD
andidpandidp on December 28th, 2007 04:42 am (UTC)
ahem,.. k, ... not much better but, maybe i can type a little more!

the smell part,... omFg,.. the smell part made the hair on the back of my neck stand straight up.... daaaaaaaaamn that was a nice touch!
Kagome_newworld on December 28th, 2007 04:45 am (UTC)
Heh~! There you are~.

Oh, thank you! I'm glad you like that part! I couldn't resist putting it in there. ^_^
(no subject) - andidp on December 28th, 2007 04:54 am (UTC) (Expand)
(●´┏_┓`●): Gackt - Break Freemissykitty0115 on December 28th, 2007 04:47 am (UTC)
♥! ...I think that pretty much will suffice as a comment, no? XD ♥

That was really...pretty. It was written beautifully. I just love how Uruha's feelings were described. It's fics like this that make you think. I love it and hate it at the same time. But don't worry, more love than anything else. XD; Sort of things that can be applied to anyone.

But Aoi's lip ring. I'm still upset over that loss. ;_; But as long as he is happy, well, that's what's important. ♥ :)
Kagome: Exotic Touch - witch-licks_newworld on December 28th, 2007 01:37 pm (UTC)
Aww, thank you! ^______^ I tried to make this seem... pretty, while I was writing it. To make absolutely certain that no-one would mistake this for just sex while reading. I wanted to convey all of the feeling, even as they were in the midst of sex. XD

I'm glad you have more love for it than hate (for it making you think). ^_~

I miss his lipring, too. :/

Thank you so much for reading and leaving such a lovely comment! ^______^
★ たびとあ。sutoreicat on December 28th, 2007 05:12 am (UTC)
*sputters incoherent words*

That... whoa. Just whoa. Uhm, that was pretty much amazing and damn near perfect. o___o;

I whisper soft, sweet, nonsense words to him, holding him as he trembles, kissing him even as he moans against my mouth. All the while my eyes stay open, drinking him in.

That is the most beautiful sentence I've ever read, really. <3

Thank you so much for sharing this! ^__^;
Kagome: Breathless - witch-licks_newworld on December 28th, 2007 01:41 pm (UTC)
*blush* Near perfect? *more blushing*

That is the most beautiful sentence I've ever read, really. <3

I AM SOOOOO glad that you guys are seeing the beauty in this and not just the hawt smex. ^______________^ Thank you soooooooooo much~.

You are welcome! Thank you for reading and commenting~!
wilhelminawilhelmina111 on December 28th, 2007 05:49 am (UTC)
Oh. My.
This was... just. So, so so exquisitely good and gorgeous and perfect and...

“I want to see you come,” he continues. “I want to feel you shaking beneath me, clenching around me. I want your cock to throb in my hand. I want your cum on my fingers.” He leans in again, licking at my lips before just as quickly retreating. “I want to hear you say my name again, when you orgasm. Can you do all of those things for me? Will you?”

*whimpers*

I think I died there, or at least my brain shut down from all the gorgeous images you'd managed to paint into my head with your words.

<3
Loved this. So much.
Kagome: Exotic Touch - witch-licks_newworld on December 28th, 2007 01:43 pm (UTC)
*grins* Do you need medical attention~? ^__~

Thank you! I am so glad that you enjoyed reading this and that you think so highly of it. <3 Means a lot when readers leave such wonderful comments.
aniffa: uraniffa on December 28th, 2007 05:54 am (UTC)
I loved every aspect of this There were several times I caught myself saying 'holy sh-WoW'. It was so beautifully written also.
Kagome: Breathless - witch-licks_newworld on December 28th, 2007 01:44 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much. ^_______^ <3
totchi_san_622 on December 28th, 2007 07:00 am (UTC)
OMG...That was so beautiful. *-* I loved this so much! I could feel the love seeping out of this between those two. xD Wow...I don't really know what to say but this was wonderfully written. Nice job! ^_^
Kagome: Shh - witch-licks_newworld on December 28th, 2007 01:45 pm (UTC)
alksdjfpawoeitjpoewij I keep getting all of these lovely comments! ^_______^ I'm so glad you could feel the emotion between them, and I'm glad that you enjoyed reading.

Thank you so much for reading and commenting!
aoiismineaoiismine on December 28th, 2007 07:36 am (UTC)
*applaudes*
Kagome: Exotic Touch - witch-licks_newworld on December 28th, 2007 01:46 pm (UTC)
*bows* Thank you, thank you. ^________________^

And your icon is so cute. XD
「ナオ子」♪athenstorm on December 28th, 2007 08:04 am (UTC)
I absolutely ADORE sex with love. It's my favorite. Slow, heartfelt, intimate - almost fairy-tale like. And you wrote this with that touch of romance that doesn't come as cheesy but simply realistic and sweet. Sappy? No way.
I loved loved loved it! Thanks for writing it and sharing it! :D
Kagome: Want Me? - witch-licks_newworld on December 28th, 2007 01:48 pm (UTC)
Oh, me too. XD Sap/romance is good in my book. ^_^ I'm glad, too, that I didn't over-do it in your opinion (I was a bit worried that I had made it a little too mushy~ ^_^).

You're welcome! Thank you~! ^_____________^
bubbalooee9: gemcerey close *textless*bubbalooee9 on December 28th, 2007 12:05 pm (UTC)
I was going to quote so many parts back to you that I totally adored..but I just don't know where to start..the whole thing, from start to finish was just heaven.
It even made me cry.
Wow...that was just wow. Not sappy..incredibly romantic but not sappy.
You did an amazing job.
Thank you <3
Kagome: One Night? - witch-licks_newworld on December 28th, 2007 01:49 pm (UTC)
It made you cry? *cuddles and offers tissues* <3333

*blushdies* Thank you so much. ^_^
(no subject) - bubbalooee9 on December 29th, 2007 02:16 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - _newworld on December 30th, 2007 04:12 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - bubbalooee9 on December 30th, 2007 05:46 am (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - _newworld on December 30th, 2007 09:24 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - bubbalooee9 on December 30th, 2007 09:37 pm (UTC) (Expand)
lilja_june on December 28th, 2007 12:51 pm (UTC)
**** speechless ****

(...now for me, this means a lot XD)
Kagome: Shh - witch-licks_newworld on December 28th, 2007 01:50 pm (UTC)
*grins and hugs* I HAVE BEEN HONORED. ^_____^
yueyue_yue on December 28th, 2007 01:07 pm (UTC)
ok, since I'm not much of a gazette fan I kinda missed this whole aoi without piercing thing...why, when?....and why?
I loved his piercing
Kagome: Breathless - witch-licks_newworld on December 28th, 2007 01:53 pm (UTC)
Months ago. He never explained why. ^^
yamada_akihayamada_akiha on December 28th, 2007 02:08 pm (UTC)
this is the best story i ahve ever read in my entire life. if there is some kind of story winning competition i would fight with all my life to make this story the champion because this worth so much.

damn good. i just love everything and everything you've written here. gah, words have left me <__<
Kagome_newworld on December 29th, 2007 02:00 pm (UTC)
^________________^ Gosh, I don't know what to say! Thank you so much. <33333 I'm so happy that you enjoyed this fic as much as you did. XD
(Deleted comment)
Kagome_newworld on December 30th, 2007 03:41 am (UTC)
*blush* Thank you so much! I'm happy you like it! ^____^
(Deleted comment)
Kagome_newworld on December 30th, 2007 03:47 am (UTC)
Oh, and such a wonderful comment it was! ^_____^ I think this is probably one of the most romantic sex scenes I've ever written, actually. *LOL* And ooooh, I can imagine this too. *________*

*gives you tissues* I didn't mean to make you cry! <3333

You are very welcome! Thank you so much for reading and commenting so nicely! It means a lot.

*gives you ten thousand hugs* ^_^