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darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts · 6 years ago

Text

Sir

Ok, so this is me taking responsibility for starting a round of fiction on an NSFW prompt (smut off). Each participant got the same prompt “Mitsuhide is the Boss has fun with his employee” it could be interpreted anyway they wanted as long as Mitsuhide was the guy in charge.

@colivara @xathia-89 @jennacat84 @notsafefortum-blr @tarralin sorry if I missed tagging someone in this.

Warnings: Seriously it’s NSFW and set in the workplace. Read responsibly. Adult situation 18+ stuff.

Masterlist

---

Sir

The clatter of desktop paraphernalia hitting to floor punctuated the hungry, needy sounds filling the quiet office space. How had it come to this? He was usually so in control of his own self but right now in this instant, he was lost in a wave of immorality.

---

2 weeks ago…

Mitsuhide had not enjoyed that summoning to HR as much as he thought he would. He couldn’t tease and relish in the reactions of Hideyoshi who had called in the CEO. Nobunaga had been calling the shots from the second he had arrived until the decision had been made to give Mitsuhide a new secretary.

It had become well known in the company that secretaries sent to the sales department did not survive long. They more often than not ran from there in tears or with a look of total muted terror. Hideyoshi had not given up in attempting to assign someone to the position but he was becoming a little more hesitant as he didn’t wish to deal with more paperwork and the string of “broken” female secretary staff.

Hideyoshi had thought to place males in the position for a time but the results were the same as before. He had no idea what Mitsuhide actually did to his staff as none of them really wished to divulge details but it was clear whatever it was meant this was a difficult job to find replacements for.

---

That was how she had arrived at the department, Nobunaga’s chosen female. Mitsuhide always arrived early but she was already placed at her desk quietly typing away on her computer before he entered the office.

Casually ignoring her presence, he walked past her desk to open his own office door. A crisp fresh scent tickled his nose causing him to follow its direction and make eye contact with the unlucky female.

“Good Morning Sir. Would you prefer Tea or coffee?” She asked brightly with a polite poker face.

“Coffee.”

“I’ll prepare it directly.” She slipped away from her desk, the citrus scent trailing behind her in her wake as she went to the small kitchenette and began to prepare the beverage. He chose to follow her, slight curiosity blooming in him as he watched her move around the small space as if she was part of the history of the place.

“You didn’t ask how I would like it.” He spoke to her from the doorway as he leaned against it watching her progress.

“Strong, not totally black. You prefer it with a dash of cream that is just enough to colour the drink but not enough to affect the main flavour of it. If you were entertaining clients the night before you ask for a little sugar and to turn it Irish. If not then you ask for nothing else. Am I right?” Her voice had an edge to it that he noted was similar to his when he was playing games with others. She was good.

“Hideyoshi briefed you in great detail I see.”

“Not just that. I noticed the small bottle of brandy you had stashed in your office. It was about half full and there was a receipt for it in the waste paper basket in your room. You gave orders not to have the normal cleaning staff clean your room which makes it part of my duties to perform and given the date on the receipt and the amount used I can easily connect that to client meetings from the appointment schedule. Mr Toyotomi only gave me direction on your usual drink of choice so I am assuming he has no clue that you add brandy to your drinks.” She was speaking as if everything she was saying in some way was totally obvious and of very little interest to her. Not everyone could make connections to minor points of interest as she had done. She was observant and smart that at least should be enough to hold his interest for a time.

“Haha. It would seem I have been given a rather interesting new toy.”

“Secretary Mr Akechi.” She was at his side before he knew it placing his coffee in his hands. “Now you have no morning meetings scheduled but there were some less standard emails that I could not send adequate replies too and the latest report of that new facility linked to the expansion project that you have a meeting for this afternoon is waiting for you on your desk.” She motioned towards his office with her manicured hands and he noted she was indeed a very well put together office worker. She almost looked exactly like the models used in those presentations Hideyoshi forced them all to attend on appropriate conduct and office attire in the workplace. Something that thankfully hadn’t happened recently, touch wood since Masamune had managed to get a steady partner.

“How efficient.”

“Thank you. I try my best. Now if there are no other tasks for me at the moment, I shall excuse myself and go to the stock room to get some more ink and paper for the printer as we appear to be out of it.” If she had seen the blend of awe and mild shock on his face as she left, she didn’t make a comment on it. Mitsuhide retreated to his office finding it clean and organised just as he preferred it.

“I wonder how long it has been since I had a challenge quite so interesting?”

---

Frustration. That was pretty much the main overriding sensation she was feeling right now and it was beginning to show. She had been warned before taking the position by several of the other department bosses that this was not going to be easy and after a few weeks, she had seen what they had all meant.

Extra work was piling up in the department for her to deal with as her boss decided yet again that he would vanish and be out of communication with the office. The increased work she had to deal with and the enquires she was taking from Mr Toyotomi were all serving to make her feel as if she was some sort of accomplice. One more day another call from HR. “I’m terribly sorry Mr Toyotomi Mr Akechi has just stepped out to visit a client at the minute can I take a message?”

She couldn’t deny it was a little thrilling to play mind games with a man who was as frustratingly intelligent as he was attractive. The small rush she got from landing a verbal blow to him that caused him to stall momentarily in his perverse attacks was exhilarating.

They had attended several meetings with clients that had taken them out of the office. Each meeting was in a private room in a bar with a relaxed atmosphere. The alcohol flowed with the conversation but the only people who seemed affected by the refreshments were the clients. Mr Akechi was somehow able to maintain the calm composed exterior he was known for regardless of how much had drunk at a meeting.

Whilst that was certainly something, she couldn’t help but admire about the man she had not taken kindly to his attempt to rattle her. Sitting next to him the client happily chattering away on the other side of the table, his hand kept “accidentally” brushing against her thigh. He would drop his pen and she could feel his breath travel up the bare calve of her leg from her ankle as he retrieved it.

There was no doubt his little game was becoming more dangerous as the days passed and he realised his words weren’t having the reactions he was wanting. Mr Akechi was a very smart capable man who also had the ability to make suggestive remarks that could easily be explained away as misunderstandings that left the other person feeling as if they were the one who’s mind was living in a gutter.

Thankfully for all his little comments and moments where she had felt a little flustered, she had managed somehow to remain calm and composed enough to deliver a few frustrating blows of her own to him in return. Turn about is fair game after all and if he wanted to play “tease the secretary” then she was more than capable of playing that game as well. There was, after all, a reason Nobunaga had chosen her for this job.

A soft long sigh escaped her lips as she replaced the receiver of the phone. It was late, most of the building was probably empty by now but she still had a stack of papers that needed to be sorted and arranged.

“That was a big sigh.” The sudden appearance of a voice by her ear caused her to jolt in her seat. “I’m sorry did I make you jump?”

“You aren’t sorry at all!” She spun around glaring at her boss who was simply smiling obviously enjoying himself.

“Your words wound me, my dear.”

“Liar.” She spat back. It was unprofessional and something she would not normally do at all but this was hardly a normal situation. She had never had such a difficult superior to answer to in all of her secretarial career.

“My my. It would seem that during my absence you have learnt to speak up. How very amusing.” The smile on his face had turned into an infuriating smirk. She had been right he was enjoying this as part of his on-going little game.

“There is nothing amusing about it. I have just been pushed to the point where my professionalism has snapped. And who’s fault do you suppose that is?” At this point, she had no idea if she wished to smack that smirk off his face or attempt to cover it up with kisses.

---

He had caught glimpses of the woman under that impossibly perfect mask she donned for work. She was practically perfect, smart, efficient in her work. Naturally observant and able to pre-emptively judge with sometimes alarming accuracy his next move. It was frustrating but tantalising. He had found himself lost in his own thoughts more often than he cared to admit thanks to her.

The notion that if Hideyoshi had known the extent to which his little diverting fantasies had progressed he would have seen the man explode, whilst forcing him to attend one of those dreaded seminars on acceptable conduct in the workplace amused him. But here, right now, in front of him was the same composed female from before. Her mask had slipped, her patience of a saint had failed her and she was glorious.

“Quite right my dear. I must apologise.” He leaned close enough to trail his fingertips up the exposed length of her arm. He could feel her shudder at his touch drawing him in closer. “Now however should I take responsibility for sure heinous acts?”

He was more than aware that his voice had taken on a deeper tone, and that his eyes were almost certainly reflecting the same level of darkening lust that he saw in hers. This was where he failed. This was where his intent to tease had merged with all those lewd little daydreams and his mask finally crumbled.

It was, in fact, her that made the first move. Grabbing his jacket lapel in her small fist and dragging him to her. Their lips connected in a hard, passionate kiss that could have started a fire with its intensity. A low growl escaped his throat mixing with one of hers as they finally parted.

Flashes of realisation flickered across her face and before she could collect her rational long enough to reject what was happening, he had dragged her towards him trapping her with one hand around her waist and a firm grip in the hair behind her head. He nipped at her lower lip gaining enough space to push his tongue into her mouth. Tracing the ridges of her palate with the very tip of his tongue she released a rather undignified moan that only spurred him on to push her further.

A desire grew inside him to see this woman become so completely undone. To see her fall so entirely apart at his touch that she failed to function.

---

Momentary shock ran through her mind as she realised what she had done. She had lost her composure and actually kissed her boss. She was used to his teasing taunts and suggestive little gestures so why had she given into to it all now? She wasn’t allowed to process anything further than that as he claimed her mouth with his. There was a hunger in that kiss that was amplified by the tugging she felt on her hair as he deepened the kiss and ran his tongue around her own.

Conscious enough to remember their surroundings she placed her hand on his broad chest and gave it a firm shove. Reluctantly he pulled back. His eyes that were once clear as yellow crystal were melting pools of liquid gold.

“We can’t do this.” Her already swollen lips felt like they were pulsating after his kiss.

“If you really wish not to then…” He pulled back giving her a little space as his eyes wavered.

“No Sir. I mean we can’t do this here.” She quickly grabbed the cuff of his sleeve anxious to alleviate the obvious misunderstanding.

If you had asked her this morning, or at any other point prior to right now if she would do this kind of thing her answer would have been a resounding no. Right now, however, in the heat of the moment. Her pulse was rising, her scent was mingling with his. All of that with the amorous look in his eyes that were screaming pure hunger meant she just knew she couldn’t turn back.

“And to think I once had you pegged for a good girl?” He chuckled as he removed his jacket draping it over the back of her desk chair.

“Even the Devil was an Angel once.” She flashed him a playful smile happy to see him make good on all those little teases he had subjected her too so far.

Scooping her up in his arms he quickly made his way into his own office. He didn’t so much as put her on the floor before he had her back pressed against the now closed door. Her hand running through his white hair as he trailed kisses along her jaw and nape, balancing her with one arm in mid-air as he fumbled with the lock with the other.

---

He had thought she was rejecting him. He was used to that but he had forgotten that this was the woman who had successfully managed to go toe to toe with him over the past few weeks, not only meeting his pace but matched it perfectly. Just knowing that they were so compatible in that regard was enough to get his blood racing wondering how compatible they were going to be in other areas.

His senses were flooded with her scent and voice. He was own thoughts were becoming blurred as he explored her creamy flesh with his mouth. His teeth grazing over the lobe of her ear making her twitch in his hold. He bought his hand to rest on the buttons of her blouse popping them free one by one. His fingertips brushing against her as he moved.

Her legs suddenly gripped him tighter dragging his hips closer to her and she freed her head from his grasp enough to whisper in his ear.

“You terrible tease.”

“Terrible as I may be my dear.” He pulled back to look at the now slightly panting female in his arms. “I have no intention at stopping at just teasing tonight.”

The helpful support of the door gone from her back had her adjusting her grip around his body in a hurry. Taking several larger than normal strides to his desk he placed her on it and unceremoniously swept most of it clear with his arm as he pushed her gently backwards. She gasped as her back touched the cold surface and realised he had already unclasped her bra. He traced the soft mounds of her under the delicate lace.

“To think you were wearing something so salacious to work.” The accusatory tone of his voice did little to mask the arousal he felt when he saw such a sight. He had imagined her in many different styles of lingerie over the past few weeks but actually seeing it, how it hugged her curves and coloured her skin that was something reality made better.

“I can’t believe you only just noticed.”

“Is that an invitation?” He chuckled at her taunt as he pulled his neck free of his tie and hurriedly undid the shirt buttons with one hand continuing to play with her lace covered breasts with the other.

“We are in this position and that is what you decide to ask? I thought you weren’t teasing me tonight?”

He chuckled as he watched her back arch to his touch. Pinching one peaked nipple before drawing a line up her exposed throat with his tongue to her ear.

“As you wish my dear. Just don’t expect me to be gentle.”

He slipped his hand under the hemline of her skirt pushing it higher until it revealed her exposed thigh above her stocking tops. If he had a bit more control, he would have stopped to appreciate the view before him but he was being led by a more basic driving force. Lust and desire were consuming him from the inside out setting his body and its usually cool temperature into a blazing inferno.

---

His chilled hands felt sensational against her increasingly flushed skin. Her heart was pounding so fast it was becoming an effort just reminding herself to breathe. To think she would be here right now doing this…

Mitsuhide yanked her blouse free from her body and tossed it to the ground with his own shirt. He always looked slender but there was no way to have guessed he would be so toned and muscular. The defined lines on his torso clearly mapped out the sections of his abdomen that put marble sculptures to shame. The strength he had was also tender as he worked his magic on her.

Every time he touched her a small sigh or moan escaped her. In an effort, to try to stop herself from feeling like she might be carried away, she placed her hands on his shoulders. He glanced up at her contact and she stole a kiss from him. His lips twitched into a smile as he pulled her tighter to him, she could feel his heart beating like a drum against his chest echoing her own heart.

Laboured breathing, panting and moans of pleasure were filling the office space as fingers glided over her sides leaving smouldering heat lingering after his touch moved to another location. His mouth claiming hers in a frenzy that left her light-headed. That tongue of his that so often spun those teasing and cutting remarks was playing its own game as it crept lower along the expanse of her body towards the apex of her thighs.

---

She whimpered as he removed himself from her. A feral grin spread over his face as he looked down at the beautifully dishevelled woman spread out on his desk like a feast at a banquet. God, how often had he wondered what she would look like? If his own wandering imaginings were close to reality? They weren’t, the reality was a lot more alluring.

He could feel the beads of sweat forming on his back as it ran in small trickling rivers down his flesh. His hand was already reaching for his belt and with a swift motion, he had released the clasp removing it from his trousers with a swooshing crack. The soft leather sat happily in the palm of his hand as he briefly contemplated his next move. Looping it over her wrists binding them both together above her head, faster than she could react to pull away. Her face was the perfect picture of shocked amusement.

“Forgive me my dear but I really won’t be allowing you to leave just yet.”

“As if I would. I had no idea you were into this kind of thing.”

“Oh? Everyone has a few kinks, my dear. Keep playing games with me, I’m sure we can discover some of yours.”

He placed his hands on her hips dragging them higher pushing the thin fabric covering her to one side and entered her in one swift stroke. The heat of her wrapped around him. The way it undulated and stretched to accommodate him had his mouth going dry. She cried out and arched her back which caused her to clench her muscles and grip him harder then he was expecting. It was like she had been perfectly designed to be his undoing.

---

With each rocking motion he made she could feel him edging deeper inside her core. An uncontrollable fire was ablaze under her skin and she could feel its prickling heat causing the skin all over her body to become slick with sweat. He was like a machine of precision reading ever movement and reaction of her body no matter how slight with accuracy she had never witnessed before.

They were passionately entwined on the desk moving fiercely in sync with each other pushing, nudging themselves to the edge of blissful oblivion. It was a display of almost total desperation but there were still shockingly elements of tenderness in their touches. Items on the desktop not previously cast aside now tumbled to the ground as the tremors of their actions caused the desk to shift in position.

This was beyond anything she could have dreamt up in her most dizzying daydreams. She knew she had been attracted to the man, and she knew she had had fun with their little game but never had she imagined they would be this compatible. Everything their bodies did felt like an act of instinct. Every slight shift targeting their partner's main points of pleasure.

Small stinging sensations crept into the back of her mind as she closed her eyes knowing he was putting his mark on her and not caring in the slightest. When the first wave hit her, it was like she had been electrocuted, the second had her almost believing she was witnessing a supernova from up close. The third time was when he joined her, his movements becoming less fluid. His hips rutting against her as he pushed himself through their combined climax.

---

105 notes · View notes

stripestheboar · 7 years ago

Note

Ooooh my stars can you do more PTA Sans scenes?! I absolutely adore that AU!!

Sorry this took so long. Weeks of sickness is getting to me. Not to mention making up jokes can take hours.

Anyways…. PART 3 OF THE PTA SANS COLLECTION!

ENJOY

~Undertale~

Sans: *comes in* okay, what’s going on? Frisk has been late to five doctor’s appointments because the teachers won’t let them leave until i come get them.

Helen: *motions for him to sit down* I’m afraid we just can’t trust your child to leave the class anymore. He keeps writing fake notes just to get out.

Sans: *blinks and sits down* fake notes? whoa whoa, what? that doesn’t sound like them.

Helen: *nods* Yes, he’s quite the troublemaker. Not being her father, it’s clear you don’t know him as much as you thought. He makes fake doctor’s notes, clearly written by him.

Sans: well, how do you know? I always write their notes since Tori’s teaching.

Helen: Well, for one, it’s all types up lowercase. Probably so we don’t recognize her handwriting (he doesn’t seem too bright).

Sans:… typed?

Helen: Mmhmm. Typed up on a flimsy piece of paper. All lowercase and with bad spelling and grammar. And in Comic Sans no less! *slowly coming to realization* If he really thinks the teacher and…. I are dumb enough to let… that… pass…. *blinks*

Sans:…..

Helen:….

Sans: *sighs* y’know, it’s pretty hard being a married working mother when you’re single, unemployed, a skeleton, and most importantly a dude, but damn it, Helen…. Frisk and i donated fifty cans to the food drive. i think we deserve some respect here.

Helen: Well I’m head of the PTA, so there really is no-

Sans: how many cans did you donate, Helen?

Helen: That doesn’t really matter-

Sans: how many, Helen?

Helen:….. *looks down* Four.

Sans: really? wow. i would’ve though you would’ve had the time to donate more with how much time you spend bitching about my kid.

~Underfell~

Sans: *hands Frisk money* here’s twenty g. vending machine is around the corner. don’t go around spending it all in one fuckin’ place. now run along, ya little shithead.

Frisk: *snatches up money and runs off*

Daniel: *walking when Frisk suddenly races past him* Hey, watch where you’re going. *sighs* Little shithead.

Sans: *suddenly next to him* uh, what the fuck did you just call my kid?

Daniel: What? You call them that all the time!

Sans: yeah, it’s okay when i say it because they know i still fucking love them. when you say it, you actually fucking mean it.

Daniel: then maybe you shouldn’t speak to your child that way.

Sans: then maybe you should mind your own fucking business or else!

Daniel: Or else what? It’s your fault you don’t love your child enough!

Sans: *stops* oh… you fucker… *chuckles evilly* i’ll show you love, asshole. *disappears*

The Next Saturday

Daniel: *helping his young son onto his bike* Alright, Cody, today’s the day you’re going to learn to ride like all of your friends. *hands him his helmet* Now, it may be scary at first, and you may fall down a few times, but remember that I will be here to help you-

Cody: *puts on helmet* It’s okay, dad! I already know how! *rides off on his bike perfectly with a smile*

Daniel: *shocked* What? How did he-? When did he-?!

Sans: *rides by on his tricycle* ha ha asshole! i taught your kid how to ride a bike! you’re never gonna get that back! *rides off into the sunset*

~Underswap~

Sans: *finishes checking off the last name* AND DONE! THAT’S EVERYONE! *grins* GOOD WORK, EVERYBODY! THIS FUNDRAISER WILL MORE THAN HELP THE BAND GET NEW EQUIPMENT! SINCE MARIA’S CHILDREN RAISED THE MOST, THEY GET TOP PRIZES. *walks over and hands Maria a bone* HERE! A TOKEN OF MY ETERNAL GRATITUDE!

Maria: *smiles and takes it, shaking off how weird it is* Aw, thanks, Sans. I really appreciate it. Cindy had fun selling to all her friends.

Sans: WELL CINDY IS DOING AN AMAZING JOB! HERE, A BONE FOR HER AS WELL. *hands her a smaller bone* TELL HER THE PRIZES WILL BE HERE IN A WEEK.

Linda: Bones? Don’t you think that’s kind of weird?

Sans: *tilts head* I’M JUST SHOWING MY GRATITUDE. DO HUMANS NOT LIKE THAT?

Linda: It’s just kinda weird with all the bones. What’s with you monsters and your obsessions with bones? Or is that just a skeleton thing?

Sans: *thinks hard* I’M ACTUALLY NOT SURE, LINDA! I’VE ALWAYS THOUGHT IT WAS WEIRD THAT YOU HUMANS LIKE TO GET MARRIED THREE TIMES AND PULL THEIR CHILD INTO THEIR DIVORCE BATTLES THUS DRASTICALLY AFFECTING THEIR SCHOOL WORK AND MOTIVATION TO DO THE ACTIVITIES THEY LOVE SUCH AS BAND. OR IS THAT JUST A LINDA THING?

~Swapfell~

Sans: AS HEAD BOOSTER MOM-

Gloria: *aside to her friend* As you’ve proclaimed fifty times this meeting.

Sans: - I AM THOROUGHLY SATISFIED BY THE RATE AT WHICH WE WERE ABLE TO HELP FUND ADEQUATE EQUIPMENT FOR OUR CHILDREN. NOW THAT ALL OF THIS HAS BEEN SETTLED, LET US DISCUSS SETTING UP THE STAGE ON THURSDAY TO GET READY FOR THE SHOW. I ASSUME IT MAY TAKE US A GOOD SIX HOURS TO GET IT READY.

Gloria: Wait- what?

Sans: WE NEED TO SET THE STAGE FOR OUR CHILDREN. WE MUST MAKE IT PERFECT; OUR CHILDREN SHALL ACCEPT NOTHING LESS.

Gloria: Six hours of setting up? Look, I don’t have time for that.

Sans: IT WILL BE IN THE AFTERNOON. YOU CAN’T SPARE YOUR TIME FOR AN HOUR?

Gloria: I still can’t make it. I have a busy schedule. Can’t we use some of the money from the fundraiser to hire a few people to do that.

Sans: THAT MONEY IS FOR THE EQUIPMENT! FINE. I SHALL TAKE YOUR CHILD TO THE PERFORMANCE AS WELL.

Gloria: E-excuse me?!

Sans: IF YOUR SCHEDULE IS SO BUSY TO WHERE YOU CAN’T MAKE IT EVEN FOR AN HOUR, YOU WILL SUEELY BE TOO EXHAUSTED TO TAKE YOUR CHILD TO THE PERFORMANCE THE NEXT MORNING. DO NOT DESPAIR. MY MUTT CAN EASILY TRANSPORT YOUR CHILD.

Gloria: You are not touching my son. Look, my schedule is packed tight and there’s nothing I can do about it.

San: GLORIA, YOU’RE A STAY-AT-HOME MOTHER RAISING ONE CHILD. I COULD GET CANCER AND DIE OF IT IN THE AMOUNT OF TIME YOU SPEND WATCHING “THE REAL HOUSEWIVES” IN A SINGLE DAY. IF YOU CAN’T SPARE A SINGLE HOUR, WHY ARE YOU IN THE PTA AND BOOSTER CLUB TO BEGIN WITH?

~Horrortale~

Sans: *sits down in front of the desk* so what’s the deal, Suzanne?

Suzanne: *folds her hands* I’m afraid it’s about Aliza.

Sans: what’d she do this time?

Suzanne: *pulls out a hand-drawn picture of King Asgore getting stabbed by a little kid* The teacher showed me this. Aliza drew it in her spare time; she’s starting to really scare the other children.

Sans: *looks at it and laughs* ha, that’s just Asgore, the former king, being slain by a human who condemned us to rot in the Underground and starve to death.

Suzanne: Why would she draw such a thing?!

Sans: the kid’s growin’ up. soon she’ll be old enough to follow the last one’s footsteps and slay the Undyne. i think it’s kinda her dream at this point. little rascal. kids, amaraite?

Suzanne: You-you actually encourage your child this to do this?!

Sans: hey hey, calm down. don’t worry, Tori and i have already sat her down and had the talk with her.

Sans: college comes first.

~Altertale~

Lillian: Oh, hey, Sans. How’s Kate doing in class?

Sans: *smiles* she’s doing very well. however, i have a few… concerns.

Lillian: *sits down* Concerns? What’s wrong? Is she misbehaving?

Sans: well… somewhat. she’s been spreading around very foul language as of late. swear words and the like. do you know where she could be hearing these words?

Lillian: Oh dear! I have no idea where she could have picked this language up. I’ll give her a grounding when she gets home. How bad is it?

Sans: she’s been saying these words every chance she gets. *turns around* Katie? can you come in, dear?

Kate: *pokes her head in and giggles* Fuck!

Lillian: Hey! Watch your fucking mouth!

Sans: *silent*…..

Lillian: What?

Sans: Lillian do you even have ears?

~Underlust~

Karen: Did I hear right? You’re signing up to be the Sexual Education teacher.

Sans: you heard right, babe. i thought that if it should be anyone, it should be someone with tons of experience and a scientific background.

Karen: That’s….. extremely problematic.

Sans: i kinda get where you’re coming from; you don’t want someone like me teaching your children. trust me, they’re in no better hands than mine.

Karen: Says the one with dozens of past sex partners and only one boyfriend.

Sans: says the one with three marriages and four children and yet somehow clearly not getting enough sex in her life.

Karen:……

Sans: and pfft. “dozens?” you underestimate me. smh, boo, smh.

~Echotale~

Martha: My child just had a cold, is all.

G: no, he has the flu. he needs to stay home. i thought i told you to get him vaccinated.

Martha: Oh what do you know?

G: *hands her his PhD*

Martha: *tears it up*

G: *pulls out another* i know what i’m talking about, Martha.

Martha: Wha- *tears that up as well*

G: *pulls another PhD out* i’ve won this game before, and i’ll win it again.

Martha: *snatches it up and crumples it* How do you have so many?!

G: i made sure to print, like, fifty before i got here. *pulls out two more*

Martha: *smacks them away* You’re insane!

G: *pulls out four more* you can’t fight the inevitable, Martha.

Martha: *backs away* What are you doing?!

G: *pulls out thirty more* *PhDs are all she can see* i’m gonna vaccinate the fuck out of your kids Martha, and they will live a healthy life.

~Outertale~

Anna: -and that’s why I believe every child should be given gluten-free lunches. This is what we should be spending our funds on, not a play about peace between humans and space monsters. It has good intent, yes, but these lunches are far more important!

Sans: *has been silent this whole ten minute period*

Anna: Sans? Are you even listening to me?

Sans: of course.

Anna: Your thoughts?

Sans: just missing the sounds of the cold vacuum of space. that’s all.

~Reapertale~

Elizabeth: *lying in bed, asleep* *eyes shoot open when she hears a creak*

Sans: *slowly rises from the ground and out of the darkness* greetings human mortal. my faithful messenger, Frisk, has told me of your ways. what is it you desire, human mortal?

Elizabeth: *eyes wide, shaking and sweating in fear* M-more coin f-for the schoolhouse? A-and a new writing slate?

Sans: very well. the contract has been sealed. you have five.

Elizabeth: F-five? Five what?!

Sans: no… make it four. *slowly sinks back into the darkness* *appears next to Frisk* this is probably the best thing i’ve done in centuries. alright, who’s next on the list?

~Dancetale~

Beatrice: *grabbing some brownies from the food table* *turns around and shrieks in surprise and drops her paper plate*

Sans: *breakdancing right in front of her*

Beatrice: *sternly* Sans, for the last time, I’m not changing my mind. We’re not wasting our funds on a dance club when they’ll never use it as a future skill.

Sans: *continues breakdancing*

Beatrice: Sans, you can’t keep doing this every time I refuse-

Sans: *breakdancing harder*

Beatrice: S-Sans, I-

Sans: *breakdancing intensifies*

Beatrice: S-stay away from my family-!

Sans: *just breakdancing* *only breakdancing*

~Aftertale~

Frisk: *made a science project featuring Geno and Sans, and how their existence proved the theory of multiple timelines*

Geno: *hops off the table once the science fair ends, pulling sticky notes off of himself*

Sans: *doing the same* first place, kiddo. we’re proud of ya.

Frisk: *smiles proudly*

Helen: *approaches and crosses her arms* Well it’s quite and achievement for an idea so absurd.

Geno: *pulls the last sticky note off of him* Excuse me?

Helen: *turns her head* I just believe Frisk is too much of an… overachiever. We already know he’s saved the world. Why should he rub it in everyone’s faces when he clearly has an advantage over everyone else.

Geno:… lady, i stand here as living proof of the existence of both multiple timelines and universes. i spent countless lifetimes within the Void in endless loneliness and agony, only to be released by this special kid right here. they deserve every award they get, especially when second place was an airplane model built by you, not your kid.

Helen: *cheeks turn red* What?! These are just harmful accusations!

Geno: Helen, i’m a firm believer that people truly can change, but we saw you double dip with Maria’s salsa at the meeting. we know you’re that kind of person.

~Machinatale~

Sans: *looks through the plans* Wait… we’re getting rid of the computer lab? Why?

Sharon: *looks over* Hmm? Oh, that’s just a request for now. We need it approved by the administrators. Children need to tear their eyes away from a screen and hold something real.

Sans: How else are they going to get all the information they need? They’re too young to earn smartphones.

Sharon: The library, of course.

Sans: Okay, yeah, but kids are only allowed to check out two books at a time. Why should they spend so much time trying to find a book with the information they need when the world’s database is at their fingertips?

Sharon: *sighs* They don’t need a screen to figure things out. They spend too much time on the internet.

Sans: They need computers to do the proper research from multiple sources, as well as print out papers. Research could be conducted within minutes, not hours.

Sharon: She can do that at the library. *scoffs* Of course you would be all over technology. You’re a robot. What makes you think you’re smarter than a loving parent?

Sans: Sharon, I have more processing power than modern day’s best calculators, and yet, somehow your bullshit still isn’t adding up.

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thebeautyofdisorder · 6 years ago

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Blog of John H. Watson, Hidden Post #57 (Adlock Drabble, Post S4)

This is what happens when I’m bored at work and speculate on the possible dynamic that could spawn out of Irene’s continued presence in Sherlock’s life being revealed in The Lying Detective, as well as the thought that John totally keeps an up to date documentation of Sherlock’s bullshit, even when he doesn’t share it. Short head canon in a blog post. A happy medium ending shall we say. Compatible with canon.

Rated T, for language and innuendos.

---

Sherlock Holmes is not a romantic, by any meager stretch of the imagination. In fact, if there were a term in the English language adequate enough to be defined as the polar opposite of a romantic, I wouldn't hesitate to employ it in regards to the world's only consulting detective. But, as with everything else in the complex world surrounding him, it's never quite so simple as that, either. For every area of disinterest in his over-wrought brain, there never ceases to be an exception to the rule. He hates the television, except for when he needs to pass the time.; he's seemingly ignorant of any charms the fairer sex may possess, until he decides to point out which one's they're lacking; he doesn't eat while on a case, unless you buy a very particular brand of biscuits and force them into his line of sight; and he doesn't have a single romantic bone in his body until The Woman is brought into the equation.

Now when I say 'romantic', don't think I mean that in the normal sense of the word - marriage and babies aren't something I can see him ever willingly seeking out, even for the likes of her. That man's idea of a valentine is probably the still-beating heart of one of her enemies, but thankfully (dreadfully?) that woman would happily accept it, and even prefer it over the largest diamond at Tiffany's. Domesticity, suffice to say, has never been a prominent part of their 'relationship'. They do so enjoy flirting with it though. The way anyone else would take a holiday from their mundane desk job to somewhere more exciting, every once in a great while, The Woman formerly known as Irene Adler takes a brief respite from whatever chaos she's getting up to on the other side of the pond and finds her way to Baker Street. Sherlock never seems surprised, though whether that's because she warns him ahead of time of her eminent arrival or if he can sense her presence like some sort of lovesick bloodhound, I don't know (I mostly suspect the latter). But one moment everything is perfectly normal, and the next she's there - and the world has turned upside down. It's never really that dramatic a shift, though, truly. Sherlock is still very...Sherlock. Not even Cupid could fix that. It's his resolute single-mindedness that suddenly seems to take its leave. Whatever has been at the forefront of his thought process is, if not completely usurped, carefully shifted over as if to make room for her. Normally anyone or anything having such an impact on his needle-point focus would annoy him - and sometimes it still does, 'defiance' added to the cluster of other emotions that seem to radiate from him in her presence. More often than not, however, he accepts this adjustment without complaint. If he's particularly deep in the depths of boredom, dare I say with relief. One moment he'll be in a rush to go over some experiment or contact a client, and then there she is - sometimes sitting in his chair looking over a file he'd left lying on the floor or lounging in the bathtub as though she had always been there, and hadn't just broken in. If the timing is really inconvenient, he might shoot her a look not unlike one you or I would give a beloved but stubbornly misbehaved house cat - but it still happens, the immediate recalculation of his priorities. He probably just pulls up a day planner in his mind and starts crossing things off and pushing them around. Brooding can wait ‘til next week, there'll be time to annoy Mycroft tomorrow afternoon, etc. The case - if there is one - still gets solved, of course. No force, however unstoppable, would ever halt the investigative side of his brain. If anything we just gain an amused spectator or even another educated opinion. However as soon as the thinking is done and the only thing left of it is the 'boring' part - contacting the client, handing over evidence, explaining all of his elaborate deductions to a mostly confused and unappreciative audience - I tend to finish it out. Hell, I volunteer to do so, or else it simply doesn't get done. Found that out the hard way once when he stopped answering Mycroft's phone calls halfway through halting a smuggling operation and - well, suffice to say he always knocks now, even if he did have a spare key made just to be intrusive. Not that it seemed to phase either of them. Hardly anything does, during these short visits. As affronted or even offended Sherlock will no doubt be at the turn of phrase, the world by and large ceases to exist to him when The Woman is in town. Once the mostly-metaphorical detective hat is off, there's nothing that can begin to compete with her hold over his attention. I've certainly never had any interest in trying. It took me less than five minutes, the first time she showed up, to see how obviously under-stated he had been when he told me that it was 'just texting' between them that first night I discovered their continued interaction. There had been a tension between them since the moment they'd met, obviously, but it had evolved somehow. It wasn't the unresolved curiosity it once was, but it wasn't a comfortable fondness like most couples have after a reasonable period of time either. It was trapped somewhere in the middle: a constant thrum of kinetic energy almost. It was the power of uncertainty and yet the knowing acknowledgement of potential. I've never seen it’s like anywhere else, probably because no other two people in the world have the patience and tenacity to make such an unreasonable constant work. Coupled with the fact they seemed to be in a continuous competition with each other, for what stakes I still don't know, it was a tangible thing. I'd call it a 'battle for dominance' but that seems far too on the nose for my taste. No, the only thing out of the ordinary about her physical proximity to the detective was that I was now privy to it. I'd say I'm now 'in on the joke', but that doesn't sound right, as funny as the idea of Sherlock shagging a (former?) dominatrix sounds. More like being an unwilling member of an obscure and elitist secret society whose meetings I don't attend and yet end up bearing witness to anyway. Then again, with Sherlock Holmes, when don't I feel like that? Neither of them have ever asked me to make myself scarce during these periods (the shortest being all of 12 hours or what I would deem An International Booty Call - the longest was a full week: Christmas to New Year, leading into a suspicious spike in our usual caseload), but I often do it anyway. No matter the innocence of the conversation they're having - or not having, it seems voyeuristic somehow. And not just in the sexual way. There's a certain foreign intimacy to their seemingly benign interactions that makes it almost more intrusive to walk in on them having tea than any of the more explicit scenarios that end up occurring at 221B Baker Street behind closed doors. There are exceptions of course - the three of us have managed a few pleasant evenings (as pleasant as Sherlock is capable of), but all in all, I leave them to themselves. For as suddenly as she arrives, she's just as quickly gone - leaving no obvious sign of her presence save the lingering of her perfume and usually some spontaneous possession that finds its way to the mantelpiece, and remains there until the next time she inevitably appears in another few months. Hell, maybe the next year. A bottle of red nail lacquer, a hair pin. Last time it was a dagger. I think it's probably deliberate - an excuse, outside of sheer interest, to return. Or maybe some sort of weird code, fuck if I know. Regardless, as soon as her presence dissipates, the Consulting Detective is back to his obnoxious and hyper vigilant self, as though nothing and no one could ever distract him from his single-minded search for problems to solve and humans to outsmart. If Sherlock's unhappy with this unstable 'arrangement' - hell, even if he's perfectly happy with it - he's never really said. In fact, he makes almost no comment about her at all when she's not here. This alone, apparently unbeknownst to him, makes her unique in the whole of the human race. The only exception seems to be under the specific pretense of making his older brother look both nauseous and disapproving at the same time. As for Mycroft Holmes, if 'The Ice Man' ever had any specific ill intentions towards The Woman who nearly brought the nation to its knees, he's apparently given up on them for now. He's even stopped making lewd comments about beheadings just to make Sherlock angry. Every once in an even greater while - only thrice in my memory - some mysterious 'case' will arise from overseas and Sherlock himself will vanish from the streets of London for a number of days. He always asks me if I'd like to come along, and I always give some sort of excuse to remain: can't find a sitter for that long, my passport expired, etc. I know what he's really doing, just as he knows that my passport is perfectly legal, and yet neither of us say a word. I don't know if it's some twisted way to extend the 'mystique' of a secret tryst, or he's just helping her out with something very illegal, but I'm not sure I want to. It's not up to me to say if this sort of dynamic will last - if either of them will eventually require something more steady or resolute, or simply grow bored with one another. But for now, as I write this, Sherlock is restocking the kitchen for the first time in months without being harassed and has ceased whining about Lestrade not calling him back all weekend - so I doubt it's going to be a concern for a long while. By morning I'm sure I will walk in to witness my boorish and manner-less best mate who will rarely even boil his own water trip over himself to have her coffee made by the time she wakes, so he can regale her with the gory details of how he solved the grisliest murder we've had since her last visit. And they say romance is dead.

#my writing #adlock #john watson #sherlock holmes #irene adler #post series 4 #john's blog #the adlock yacht #narrative nonsense

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broken-clover · 6 years ago

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Dust Strikers Story Mode 4/4

Part four of the story transcripts for Guilty Gear: Dust Strikers. I apologize for taking so long to submit this last section, I was suffering from a case of my-computer-is-laggy-and-I-can’t-play-Anji-to-save-my-life. I hope you can forgive me.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (Slayer, I-no, Zappa, Bridget, Anji)

Slayer

Slayer: Interesting Bridget: What is it? Excuse me, you don't happen to have a bounty on your head by any chance? Slayer: Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not worth much of anything. But if your skills measure up to me, I might be worth your time. Johnny: Even though he's an old guy, I'm impressed that she wants to take on a guy. It just fascinates me. Anji: You think? I'm interested in guys too. Johnny: What did you say? Anji: Don't get any wrong ideas, now. I'm interested in their powers. Slayer: I agree with that way of thinking. That simplifies matters. Johnny: Wait, I'm not really... Anji: Now you're talking! I'm pumped!

Faust: This is an interesting symptom. I see, it's a cause and effect cycle. Axl: You, I never asked you to check up on me! Even though it's true that I've been through a lot, I've never had any doubts about my body. Faust: Oh, is that right? If there aren't any cures, that may very well be the best treatment. Axl: I'm more concerned about your body. Looks a little mysterious. Faust: Not to worry. It's all functional Slayer: Irregulars with an added spice that changes the world of men. Axl: You talking about us? Slayer: It's because of people like you that makes humans interesting. Even though you're blessed with great powers, it's normal to you. Very typical of how humans behave. Axl: It'll stress you out if you think so deeply. Zappa: Hahahahaha! Slayer: Look. Yet another fellow favored by the goddess of fortune. Axl: I do like women but I'm not sure about the goddess. Slayer: It must be the uncertainty factor that led you into running into me Axl: C'mon, let's just have fun...I thought this was supposed to be a party!

Potemkin: I heard from the president. I've been looking forward to this day to finally exchange shots with you. Slayer: One of the disciples, I gather. You think you can take me? You should beat him before coming to me. You'll pay a high price for this! Chipp: HEY! Hold it right there! You're the dude who founded the guild, aren't you? Slayer: That was quite a long time ago...I no longer have any involvement...but it is true that I am the founder. Chipp: That simplifies matters. I'm gonna destroy you! Jam: Looks like I've gotten myself into a hostile environment. Better get outta here... Slayer: Hmm, looks like you're a ki wielder. I'm interested in your combat style. Would you mind showing me some of it? Jam: I'm no cheap street performer. If you give me some of that spice, I'll think about it. Slayer: I should be able to accommodate you. Jam: That's a promise! Chipp: Quit ignoring me, both of you! You're going down!

Slayer: This is quite an unusual combination. Sol: I'm starting to get tired of your face Testament: Different being. What do you want? Slayer: Nope. Nothing in particular. Just happened to pass by. Testament: Then please go away Dizzy: Oh, you're Mr. Slayer, aren't you? Please excuse Testament's words. He doesn't mean any harm. Slayer: I'm not bothered by it. Don't worry. But this is quite interesting. Sol: So what the hell is your point? Slayer: Those who have veered off the path. I guess the same must be said of me. Testament: What are you insinuating? You better have a good explanation Slayer: My apologies if I offended you. I'm just genuinely interested in your powers Sol: You using us to kill your boredom? I think it's time you hung em up.

Millia: So...we meet again...Zato. Eddie: So you still haven't gotten over him? Millia: Shut up, you damn beast...I'm talking to him, not you! Eddie: What do you want to talk to ME about? Millia: I'm taking you down. I'm sick and tired of looking at your pathetic, bony remains. Venom: Not so fast...! Master Zato is regarded as the crown-jewel of the guild. You'll have to hand him over to me...! Slayer: I've told you the Guild is no more. No raison d'etre and no purpose. Continued existence will only bring further regret and despair. Venom: Oldtimers can keep their mouth shut. The guild no longer belongs to you. Millia: It has nothing to do with me anymore, I don't care what happens to it. I just want to take care of this guy with my very own hands. Eddie: Do you think it will be that easy? What do "I" think?"...Not so easy, "I" say. Venom: I sense you...Master Zato. I am going to free you, Master, from the evil spell of death! Eddie: Ha ha...this is great! Lowly humans who cannot accept death. That's the right evil spirit to have! Slayer: I'm the one who started all of this. I must atone for my past deeds. Fine, let us put an end to it all.

Slayer: Just when I thought it was all over. Gig: Grr... Slayer: Don't want to be adding more trouble. You looking for a dance partner? Gig: Grrrgh! Slayer: Very well then, mademoiselle.

Gig: Grr...grr... Slayer: That was very passionate, wasn't it? I had better get going now... Gig: Ghhh... Slayer: So long! Farewell!

Slayer: Take a look, Sharon. Tonight the moon shines beautifully. The red moon in the dark night sky seems to epitomize the world of man. Those that will shine and stand out amidst this corrupt day and age are those with immortal justice....Don't you think, Sharon?

I-no

I-no: That's an exciting combination. Potemkin: That red outfit and guitar...you must be... I-no: You remember me? That's nice to know. Potemkin: Someone like you go unchecked...lucky for you I'm a little busy now. You pull out and I'll let you go. Zappa: Grrr! I'm gonna curse you! Faust: Looks like this won't need treatment. If we take too much time, the patient is not going to make it. I-no: Look, the beasts are making noise. But I'm afraid I don't understand what they're saying. So loud and annoying. Potemkin: That should be enough! It's time for me to shut you up. Faust: Looks like it is your mind-set that needs treatment. Fine, I shall treat you, then. I-no: Trying to act tough, are we? You damned animals. I'll cut you up and feed the dogs!

Bridget: Something I can help you with? I-no: What a sweetie you are. What do I want? Let's see... May: If you're asking to be hooked up with Johnny, there's no way. I-no: I see, so there's more of you. Hey, I have a fun idea. Bridget: What is it? I've got cool tricks too. I-no: Demons' groaning sounds beautiful. Even more when they're in harmony. Dizzy: Are you trying to hurt everyone? I'm not going to let you do that. I-no: I love all that energy. Come on, play a tune for me. Bridget: I wouldn't underestimate me if I were you. Fall into the hands of the law.

I-no: What do we have here, the desperate bachelorettes council? Baiken: What kind of greeting is that? That's not a very nice thing to say Jam: That's right! You're rude! And what about you? I-no: Oh dear, don't be so uptight. It's just a joke, honey. Or were you offended 'cause I was right on the mark? Millia: You're a joke. Why don't you get outta here. I-no: Oh no. I'm scared. I guess this is how women become as they get older. Baiken: You crazy! I'll cut you up into pieces! Jam: I'm not showing you any mercy either! Millia: If you're not gonna get outta here, we'll have to get rid of you. It's as simple as that. I-no: You're such sweethearts. Very well, I make you cry lots. We'll find out how loud you can cry.

I-no: Hi there. Testament: What the hell do you want? I-no: Don't glare at me like that. You're scaring me. Testament: Get the hell outta here if you don't want anything. Unless of course you want to die. I-no: What do I want? Let's see...I'm here to hunt down all the monsters. I'd like all of you to die. Slayer: Ha, calling us all monsters, huh? You do realize I'm a disparate type? Too caught up in your own powers? Let me give you a lesson on manners. Eddie: Some excellent subject material. I shall test you to see if you are adequate for my body. I-no: Who do you think you're talking to? You can all bathe in your own blood! Testament: I'll show you this monster's power. You can repent your losses in hell!

I-no: You're late. You shouldn't make ladies wait like that. Sol: shut up. What are you wandering around for? Johnny: Hey, what a coincidence. Didn't expect to run into you here....guess yu're busy with a woman Sol: You stay out of it I-no: Ooh, another cute guy Ky: All of you! Freeze right there! I-no: and now a cute boy, too. Ky: Sol..! And Johnny the pirate, and you're..! I-no: I'd stay out of it if I were you. Why don't you just go home to mommy? Sol: That's enough chit chatting. Let's let the fists do the talking! Ky: ...Sol! I-no: The violent guy as always. Sure, why not...I'll cut you all up into pieces! Ky: I guess there's no alternative. Holy Knight combat was initially meant for handling multiple enemies. I'll show you what it's all about!

I-no: I see... Gig: Grr... I-no: So the caterpillar couldn't become a butterfly. Once a piece of junk, always a piece of junk, I guess. Gig: Grrrgh! I-no: Hahaha! What a joke!

Gig: Grr...grr... I-no: How was it? Did you like it? I'm sure you're quite satisfied. Gig: Ghh... I-no: I say that's enough for one day! Time for you to go to hell! Gig: Grr...

That Man:...good. Job well done. You may go now. I-no: Yes, sir! That Man: Well...I'll let you go this time. But refrain from actions that may throw off our plan. Especially if it had to do with him. I-no: But sir! That Man:... I-no: My apologies, sir. That Man: Now there is another good reason...to be killed by him.

Zappa

Zappa: Hey! Miss! Millia:...Yes? Zappa: If it's possible, can you be my wi... Millia:... Zappa: Actually, never mind... Axl: Dude, let me show you how it's done. Hey, you in the beautiful blond hair! Let me buy you a cup of coffee so I can see which glows brighter, your hair or your eyes. Millia:...Um, I'm in a hurry. Ky: You're Millia, the former assassin. If you're not with the guild anymore, leave the rest to the police force. No need to put yourself in danger. Millia: I'll take care of him. It's none of your business. Ky: But no, we have to... Zappa: What's all this talk about? Even the police are here. Maybe I should get outta...NO!...Happiness. Hatred! Hatred! Millia: Why don't I ever have luck with men?

Johnny: Whoa, check out this beautiful lady. How flirty you are. Jam: I'm not into guys like you. Take a hike. Johnny: Playing hard to get, are we? Zappa: Good cook! Good cook! Good cook! Jam: What's that? Zappa: High points as a wife candidate. Ready for engagement. Let me eat you up! Johnny: That's a dangerous pick up line Jam: A ghost? Very unscientific. Eddie: Ha! Your body shall be mine! Jam: You're much more scientific than him. Anyway, you're not my type either. You can all take a hike.

Zappa: Um, excuse me! I'm lost and was wondering if...if, if you wanted to die! Sol: Out of my way. Zappa: Where'd this big burn come from? Help me! I don't wanna die!...Die! You shall die! Dizzy: What's going on? No, Necro! Zappa: Wh, what?! My head's cold...It's blood! No! No! No!...Tear you up into pieces! Slayer:...Just a little nudge. Zappa:...Huh? Why am I going backwards when I'm moving forward? Huh? My head's on the wrong way...

Zappa: Um, excuse me, I was wondering... Baiken: Yeah what? Why are you so fidgety? Act like a man, will you? Zappa: Oh, I'm sorry. I'm looking for a person, Fa- Baiken: Fa...who? Zappa:...Fricken nasty! Baiken: What's going on here? I'm surrounded by freaks. Testament: How rude of you to say that. I've long given up my human name, but by no means am I a freak. Venom: This is a supernatural phenomenon. Quite interesting. I'd like to see more of your powers. Baiken: Man, this is a real drag. I'll blow you all away! Testament: Lowly humans shall die!

Bridget: Wow, what a massive frame you got. Potemkin: Well, I was born big. This fist I use for what I believe in and to engage in art, nothing else. Bridget: So you're an artist. Good for you. Maybe you can draw something for me? Faust: Should be safe if I've come this far. Bridget: Wow, landing using just an umbrella, that's amazing. You from the circus? Faust: No actually, believe it or not I'm a... Zappa: Dr. Faust! (sigh...sigh...) Faust: My goodness, he's caught up already. Bridget: This is remarkable! How do you bend your joints and run like that? You must be a yoga expert. Zappa: Quick, doctor, please do something! Look! I'm bent all over the place! Oh no!!! Faust: Looks like it's begun. I'll have to take drastic measures. Potemkin: Is it fate that I happen to be here? What the heck, I can help out. Bridget:...! What amazing tricks! Now it's my turn! Check this out!

Zappa: Good grief! I'm lost again. Plus it's getting dark. Gig: Grr... Zappa: Huh? Excuse me, is someone there? Gig: Grrrgh! Zappa: Aaaagh! Good time to pass out!

Gig: Grr...grr... Zappa:...I can sense it from you! I sense...a bitter grudge! Very similar...to me...aaaagh! Gig: Ghhh... Zappa:...Huh? What's going on? Why's my whole body so beat up? Gig: Grr... Zappa:...Huh?

Bridget

Bridget: Are you Testament? Testament:...you a bounty hunter? Bridget: You got it. Testament: Aren't you a little too young? What is this world coming to? Bridget: Nothing's going to change if you're so pessimistic all the time. Testament: How come you don't realize you are turning yourself into a machine at the price of countless bloodshed. I must teach you a lesson! Ky: Hold it right there! International Police Force is now... Jam: Ayah!!! Yes! This is my lucky day! Testament: Yet another shameless human looking to land a bounty... Jam: That's not what I'm here for. It's not very often you can hire 3 cute waiters in one day! Bridget: Umm, I'm a bounty hunter. Jam: Quick, let's have a match! I win, and you all have to work for me! I don't mind if it's 3 on 1. Cute guys beating you up is cool too! Testament: I can't deal with this. Let me through. Bridget: Fine, then. We'll do it all in one go! Ky: What? Me too?

Axl: Hey, what's that you're holding? I didn't know you had those toys, even in this day and age. Bridget: This is not a toy! It's a tool of my trade! Axl: Ouch! I'm sorry! What have we here? Playing pool at a place like this? Venom: How dare you insult my combat style. I say you deserve a beating. Axl: Hang on a sec! Something wrong with this era. Every toy's being used as a weapon. So what do people actually play with? Johnny: The best for of entertainment, I'd say is the thrill and romance of playing with fireworks at night. I'm pretty sure that's the consensus. Axl: You know what you're talking about! I'm actually great with fire myself...here we go!

Bridget: Whoah, everybody looks tough Chipp: Hey! what's a kid doing here? Eddie: A child. Attractive in terms of her youthfulness but too immature to become my host Bridget: You're not taking me seriously? Then let me show you my moves Sol:...back off. Don't be wasting my time Eddie: Interesting. I shall keep a record of the battle results for future reference Bridget: Don't be surprised! Here I come! Sol: What am I, a babysitter? I can't deal with this...

Bridget: Whoa! What's this? Gig: Grr... Bridget: Some sort of costume party? That's a great costume. Gig: Grrrgh! Bridget: Wait. Is it real?

Gig: Grr...grr... Bridget: Phew, that was hard work. He's a big guy but that made it easier to get up close. Gig: Ghhh... Bridget: Umm...guess there's no bounty. Okay then, see you later. Gig: Grr...

Bridget: Hmm...starting to run out of travel money...and I'm getting hungry. Hey! That guy! Maybe he's... Bridget:....Umm, excuse me, sir...is there a bounty on your head?

Anji

Anji: You must be Ky Kiske, former leader of the Sacred Order of Holy Knights Ky: Yes, that would be me. And who are you? Anji: Last name is Mito, first name is Anji. I'm just a journeyman Ky: So what can I help you with? Anji: I'd like to challenge you to a match. I wanted to see firsthand the skills of a top-class warrior like yourself. Ky: I can tell from your presence that you're not an ordinary foe. Asian martial arts? Interesting. I accept your challenge. Slayer: In that case, count me in too. Fighting for the sake of fighting. To me fighting is life's best form of entertainment. Don't you think? Potemkin: I myself haven’t had any worthy opponents recently. Sure, I'll take you on. Ky: This is getting interesting. It's been a while for me too. Bring it on!

Anji: You're using that thing as a weapon? 'Assassins' are something, aren't they. Venom:...You should talk! Your combat style is bizarre too! Anji: I don't mean to be conceited, but my moves are second to none. How about a quick match? It may help me to learn new tactics. I'd like to say yes to your offer, but... Anji: I guess it's not going to be 1 on 1. Chipp: That's right. I'm not a nice enough guy to let go of this great chance at revenge! Testament: Sacred treasures? How effective my sorcery will be....please allow me to test it on you.

Anji: So you're Dizzy... Dizzy:...That is correct. What can I do for you? There's no bounty on my head anymore. Anji: Nope, nothing vicious like that. Jam: By the way, I'm the one who got the bounty. Thanks to the money, I've been able to open up my own restaurant Bridget: Hey, I wanted that bounty too. First come first serve, I guess. Life isn't always fair. Anji: I wanted to know where 'That Man' is. Do you know something? Dizzy: I'm sorry, I don't know much. Anji: All right, then. I guess I'll try somewhere else. Bridget: Is there a bounty on his head? Then I wanna know, too! Jam: I wanna know, too! Good chance to expand my restaurant! Anji: Hey, you guys are missing the point.

Anji: You know Sol, don't you? I-no: You meet a woman for the first time and that's the first thing you ask me? I want to know more about you. Anji: My apologies. Last name is Mito, first name is Anji. I'm just a journeyman. I-no: thanks for the introduction. And what can I help you with? Anji: I've been wanting to meet 'That Man.' I-no: Really. You won't live long, dear. Eddie: That's not necessarily the case. As long as you become a part of my body! Ha! Anji: Two on one? This is a tough situation. Faust: Looks like you're having trouble. I can assist you to the best of my humble ability. I-no. Thanks for showing up to your own funeral, doc! Faust: No matter who, my mission is to save lives. Let us apply some drastic remedies, shall we?

Anji: Finally found you. Sol:...It's you again. Anji: Let me ask you straight out. Do you have any idea where 'he' is? Sol: So what if I know? Anji: Can you tell me where he is? Of course I'm willing to work for it. You and I have a bout, and if I win, you tell me. Sounds fair? Baiken: Wait! Let me in on the festivities Sol: Sorry, not interested. You guys enjoy each other's company Anji: Even Justice feared my powers...Still not interested? Sol:...! Baiken: Shut your trap! You're starting to get on my nerves. I'll kick all of your butts right now! Axl: Whoa!...Damn it...is this a bad time? Baiken: Eavesdropping, are we? I'm not impressed! Axl: I just wanted to ask chief something Sol: And even you. Why does everyone want to stick their noses in other people's business! Axl: No worries, chief! Just a quick bout, no hard feelings! Sol: I'm not responsible for what happens.

Anji: Well, well... Gig: Grr... Anji: I'd like to see if my calculations...were correct or not, but... Gig: Grrgh! Anji: He's probably not willing to talk.

Gig: Grr...grr... Anji: Man, I thought I was gonna die! My victory, nevertheless! Gig: Grr...

Anji: If Gear wasn't created as a weapon...then what was the creator thinking...actually, no point think about it. Anji: Won't know until I meet him anyway. So...I wonder where he is now...

#guilty gear #Guilty Gear Dust Strikers #resources #dialogue #Slayer #I-no #Zappa #Bridget #Anji Mito

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londontoseoularchive · 7 years ago

Text

movie shoot. | m.

➵ characters: christian yu x reader (feat. song minho)

➵ genre: smut

➵ wc: 12.6k

➵ summary: what started as a favour turned into something more, further complicating already blurred lines. with inspiration from mino’s body m/v.

warnings: this is explicit. like, hella explicit. didn’t spare on the details on this one. overstimulation is definitely a factor in this too. and dirty talk.

➵ more: an extra chapter because why not.

➵ masterlist

➵ disclaimer

“You want me to do what?” you put down the dish you were rinsing on the drying rack to turn to Christian standing a few feet behind you with your eyebrows raised.

He leaned against the counter with his arms casually crossed, thinking he has just made a very reasonable request. “Just for a day,” he said. “We’ll dress and make you up. Really, all you have to do is follow a couple of instructions and look pretty. That’s not too much to ask, is it?”

“Well, you are also asking me to step in for a YG model. YG. I’ve worked with those people, they’re basically walking masterpieces,” you noted.

“And you’re not?” he chuckled. “She got given an editorial shoot in Milan, even I wouldn’t have turned that down… But I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t think you could do it.”

“Yeah, but…” you tried to come up with another excuse. Reassessing the situation, you tried to remember all the details Christian had given you: to shoot a music video in two days for one day directed by Christian himself in a penthouse apartment in Gangnam. With Minho. “What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Who?” Christian narrowed his eyes in confusion, taking a second to realise who you were referring to. “Don’t be ridiculous, everyone adores you the second they meet you! Again, I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t think you could do it.” He straightened himself from the counter, unfolding his arms. “Please, Y/N. For me as a friend, and then I’ll owe you one, please.”

You tutted at his plea. “Alright, you don’t have to beg.”

Gasping dramatically, he asked, “so you’ll do it?”

Reluctantly, you nodded.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” you were taken by surprise when he held you by your thighs to pick you up and spinning you, making you squeal. “You’ve saved me so much trouble.” Letting you be on your feet once again, he held you tightly to plant the sloppiest kiss on your cheek possible, to which you made a face of disgust.

“Ew, Christian,” you frowned in his embrace.

“Oh, shut up, you love it,” he teased you.

The shoot was scheduled to begin at eleven a.m., in a car park already well-known for shoots that include car scenes. The location already got you thinking of what type of music video this will be, with Christian’s brilliant idea of keeping you in the dark about the concept making you curious. You’re not one to despise surprises, but just a little context would have been nice. But alas, you were only to find out once you arrive.

In sunglasses and trying your best to look presentable while not trying too hard, you called Christian as you approached the allocated place half an hour before everyone was expected to arrive.

“I’m just around the corner, where you at?” you said.

“I’m here too, just waiting on you, sweetheart,” you could just imagine the smug look on his face, knowing that those type of pet names between you two were just to push each other’s buttons.

“Well, darling, you still haven’t told me what I’m in for today.”

“You’ll know soon enough, just get here. I think I can see you.”

From the distance, you saw Christian right at the entrance of the recognisable building. You waved at him, hanging up the phone.

“You’re early,” he recognised as you approached him.

“I want to make a good impression, don’t I?” you smiled widely.

“Ah, already kissing up to the director, are you?” You both started walking side to side to side and into building, headed to the lifts that would take you underground.

“Well, from others, I heard he’s quite the asshole,” you laughed sarcastically, and he reciprocated the same chortle.

“Hilarious,” he said blankly.

“Aren’t I?” you smiled widened even more. “Hey, I’m still on the loop here, what am I doing today?” Entering the lift, you looked to Christian for an answer. “Well?”

“You really want to know?”

“Yes!”

He pressed the button to go to four floors beneath ground and sighed. “We’re here right now just to shoot some doughnuts, nothing special. You’re actually in the driver’s seat and Minho will be sat next to you with the head out of the window and—by any chance, do you know how to do doughnuts around a car park?”

“Well, I don’t wanna brag but—wait, I’m in the car with Minho?”

“Yeah, and you’ll be like flirty and touching, the normal ‘girls in a music video’ shit.”

You tilted you heard, piercing your cheek with your tongue. “Ah, so is that what we’re doing today?”

“The song’s about a guy missing this girl’s body, wondering where she at, missing her… head over heels for her. Get the gist of the video yet?”

“Uh-huh I think I got it.”

Reaching the floor, the first thing you noticed was how dark everything was, only lit with a few artificial lights, but the place still kept pretty dark. Christian was badgering you with even the smallest details about the shoot, completely different from the secretive stance he once took up. Listening to his voice had become almost insufferable, wanting to tell him to shut up, but just opted for the “alrights” and the “I got its”. He finally allowed you to leave to your designated area to start preparing, meeting with a stylist and makeup artist, but not before a few more pointers.

“Alright!” you laughed, pushing him away from his shoulders, also making him laugh. “Now go get ready yourself, jeez!”

The moment he left, you greeted the others adequately, promising not to be much of a hassle and to do your best today. With that, you commenced preparing yourself to shoot the first scene, seeing the first outfit already ready for you. However, only a few moments later, you heard a deep voice clear their throat.

“Christian, I swear if you don’t leave me alone for just one minute—“ you turned from the floor mirror to look behind you, expecting to see him there. “Oh! Sorry, I thought that—“

“You’d rather it’d be the director?” a man definitely not Christian asked. “Sorry to disappoint. I’m Minho.” But of course, you already knew that.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” you almost stuttered, timidly bowing. “I’m—“

“My leading lady.”

“Yeah, pretty much. Y/N,” you laughed nervously. “I know I’m not who you were expecting but—“

“No, no, you’re exactly what I pictured,” he eyes were trained on you, scanning your features from head to toe. “Even better… Are we ready?”

“We are,” you smiled brightly, still wanting to make that good first impression.

“Shall we?”

You took the hand Minho offered you, taking baby steps in the stiletto heels you wore to ensure you would not trip, making you hold onto his hand a little tighter than usual.

The walk to the make-shift set was not long, with the car already in its centre stage. On your walk there, you saw Christian taking his place behind a monitor and several cameras, receiving and exchanging words with his assistant. When they both looked up and saw you and Minho approaching, the assistant left Christian’s side to come to you and Minho, informing you of the events and structure of this scene. Christian paid close attention to you, skimming his eyes over you much like how Minho already did, reacting in the same manner in awe. He had not even realised when the assistant had returned to his side, stating that everything was set and ready to begin.

Minho opened the driver’s seat car for you, and you looked at him in appreciation. Once you were in, Minho quick stepped to the passenger side to make his own way in, shifting in his seat to stay as close to you and as comfortable as possible.

“So how do you and Christian know each other?” Minho asked resting his arm on the back of your seat.

“We met at one of his early video shoots. I was just dropping by to visit one of the producers, a friend. And then we just saw more of each other, stayed close.” You noted how suddenly Minho had become tense, his jaw clenching. Needing to relax him, you added, “just as friends, though.”

“Hmm,” he dropped his gaze, seeing your hand cling onto the edge of the leather seat. “Do you stay close with those you meet on set?”

“If they’re interesting enough, why not?”

He looked back at you and chuckled. “I like that.”

A producer called out for places to be taken and for the set to be cleared, ready for rolling. That was your cue to get a grip on the wheel. Minho scooted closer to you, turning the car’s engine on.

“Music, please!” Christian called out. “Y/N, start it up! And action!”

As you were instructed to, you drove in the premeditated course around the car park as Minho is to be flirtatious with you. This included touching your thigh, caressing your hair and whispering into your ear.

Minho chose the latter, getting as close as possible to you. “Do you like the song?”

Not diverting your attention away from the task, you still answered him, “yeah, it’s hot. Would make any girl’s panties drop.”

“Even yours?”

You knew he was teasing you, but for the sake of the chemistry, you played along. “Even mine.”

“My kind of girl,” he grinned. He looked at your lobe, though with an earring, still thought to nibble on it. The fact that you had just met him held him back, and no boundaries were set yet, it was still early hours.

Minho’s affection continued by stroking your exposed thigh, his palm feeling warm and your skin soft under his touch. You exhaled deeply at the sensation it created.

“Mmm, you like that, do you?” he continued to whisper in a huskier voice.

“You’re a tease, aren’t you?” you quizzed him, trying to hide the fact his touch had you shifting in your seat with a laugh.

“It’s no fun if I don’t tease.” He was right about that; you were finding this more and more fun.

Christian stayed put in his station, seeing everything the camera picked up through the monitor. The fact that you were able to get so close to Minho and get into character so quickly didn’t shock him; your professionalism was something he constantly praised. But something about not knowing what Minho was saying to you, that had you giggling and swooned, was what made his fists secretly clench.

The next thing for you to do was to halt the car and interact further with Minho, with it being your turn to touch him. Pulling on the brake lever, having your legs crossed you turned to Minho. His hand instantly found itself on your waist as you gently swooped the hair strand dangling over his forehead away.

A finger traced along the side of his face before caressing his jaw, gliding your thumb across his plump lower lip. How he growled at your delicate touches meant you felt his mouth vibrate. In the spur of the moment, Minho pulled you in closer, making you hold onto his neck and jaw with both hands.

Being so close again, this time your faces being mere centimetres away, Minho was able to say lowly, “You’re a tease yourself, aren’t you?”

“You started it,” you gazed at him, peering down at his lips. “And two can play at that game.”

Minho tilted his head as if he was preparing himself to kiss, getting as close as he could, but still not allowing your lips to even brush against one another.

You’d be lying if your heart wasn’t currently beating as if it was going at a hundred kilometres an hour right now, but you kept your cool, even if your insides were heating up.

“Cut!” Christian interrupted the moment. “Prepare for Minho’s individual shots.”

“That’s a shame, I was just starting to like this,” he smirked. “Another time, Y/N.” He winked at you before opening the door on his side, exiting the car.

You followed suit, but while Minho stayed to speak to the cameraman, you headed straight to Christian, not having strayed too far. His hands rubbed at his neck as if he was massaging a strain, all while replaying the footage just captured on the monitor.

“How was that?” you asked giddily.

He looked up at you. “Do you wanna see?”

“Ah, I don’t like seeing myself on screen. I’ll leave it to you to just show me a final cut of everything,” you declined the offer. “But how was it? Is this what you meant by ‘girls in music video shit’?”

He sighed. “You did it perfectly. Next, though, is a bath scene. You don’t mind having your back bare, do you?”

“You guys have those pasties or bras that just cover the bare minimum, don’t you?” Christian nodded. “Then it’s fine.”

“Go with Hyejin, she’ll take you to the next location. There are some camera guys there already. Just wait for me, alright?”

“We can’t do anything without Director Yu, can we?” you said softly, taking that the long day ahead of him is already getting to him. You rubbed him arm to comfort him. “You’re doing great.”

“Thank you,” he said genuinely. “Now, go.”

You gave him a departing smile, and when he was sure you were out of sight, he groaned in frustration, placing his hands flat on the table in front of him, letting his head drop. With being so currently immersed in his emotions, he didn’t even notice Minho approaching.

“That was a good take, huh?” Minho said, essentially congratulating himself. “Made it a lot easier with such a hot girl. Where did you find her?”

Christian raised his head with furrowed his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

By his tone, Minho understood he may have crossed the line by an inch. “You know, h-how she’s so beautiful, but still s–so down to earth… You want me to get ready for the next shot?”

“Yeah, you do that.”

Minho didn’t dare say another word, and instead quickly turned on his heel to walk back towards the car.

Christian straightened his poster, muttering under his breath, “asshole.”

When Minho and Christian made their way through the entrance of the penthouse, you had already taken a tour around the place, noting the large bedrooms and the adjoining bathroom, guessing that its tub was where you’d find yourself soon. Outside was a swimming pool fit for at least twenty people; if your instincts were correct, this pool was to be put to its full use that evening.

You changed your wardrobe from the skirt, blouse and choker to jean shorts, a crop top and an oversized shirt. The stylist said this would be better for the bedroom scene, the shorts allowing you to widen your legs freely and the shirt making it seem as if you were wearing one of Minho’s shirts.

The final touches were being made to your makeup when the front door opened, and your heart skipped. Minho and Christian made their way to you to greet you once again. Minho would not stay long as he himself would have to get ready, allowing Christian to brief you.

“You do know how to have sex with your clothes on, right?” he asked you leaning against the door frame, hands shoved down his pockets.

“I was a teenager once, I did go through all the bases before the clothes came off,” you said zipping up your jeans. “But let me guess, I can’t make it too risqué or kiss him.”

“Actually,” Christian said as if had something planned already. “I was talking to Minho, and for the sake of authenticity, just do what feels right.”

“Even kiss him?” you widened your eyes. “You’re allowing that?”

Instead of answering, Christian swallowed hard and looked away from you.

But just from his body language, you understood exactly what he meant. “Alright, if you insist.”

“I mean, only if it feels right,” he reiterated.

“Alright, I got it.”

Christian was about to say something else, but a woman came from behind him to pass on information to him. He nodded, allowing her to be dismissed. “Minho’s ready. Take your place.”

Doing just that, Minho sat in beneath you and between your legs, seeing this as the perfect opportunity to continue the game you played. You simply started by skimming your hand over his exposed neck and collarbones softly, taking it as far down as in his chest. Coming back up, your nails gently scratched at his skin, making him shiver.

His hand reached up to hold onto your forearm, and before your hand could reach his neck again, he slowly pulled you down, having you hunch over and his face near his.

“You’re really gonna keep teasing me like this?” he exhaled.

“I told you,” you smirked, placing your hands on his cheeks. “Two can play at this game.”

Your noses grazed against each other, feeling each other’s breaths. His lips were right there, so plush and tempting. The cologne he wore earlier remained with the same enticing smell. His hand came up to rest on the side of your face, feeling the softness of your hair.

As sweet as it may have all looked, you needed to take it up a notch; on the floor is what seemed to be a long black ribbon, probably used as a belt, and perfect for a last minute blindfold. You reached for it, allowing Minho’s head to straighten again. You brought it over his eyes, not tying it but holding it in place. Minho didn’t protest, and, in reality, became excited at this turn of event. Leaning down once again, you were close to his ear.

“I wonder if you’d allow me to take this much control,” you whispered. “You don’t seem like the type.”

Minho allowed his head to drop backwards onto your lap as you kept the material over his eyes. “For the right woman… But I’d like to show her what I’m capable of first.”

He placed a hand over one of yours that held the blindfold, always holding onto your hand as he removed it from his face. You were forced to let go of the ribbon as Minho wanted to hold your hand, pulling you closer to him. No time was spared as Minho held you by beneath your thighs, his strength enough to make you hop onto his lap. For support, you held him by his neck, allowing him to move his hands from your legs to your waist, taking extra care when he laid you down on the dishevelled bed, always ensuring to stay close to you.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do,” Minho ensured you in a whisper. “But let me make you happy at least. Any way you want. Just tell me.”

Your lips parted to speak, but your words got caught when Minho decided to land his lips upon the most sensitive part of your neck, granting a surprised reaction from you.

However, the sigh you exuded signalised pleasure. “That’s a good start—oh fuck,” you hissed at Minho tongue wanting to burrow his lips and tongue further into the crook of your neck, pleased with how much he was affecting you.

“Then how about this?” His open mouth when from your neck to your exposed chest and collarbones, making you gasp. You couldn’t help but have your fingers tangle in his styling his hair, only coming to you as a second thought, and when Minho looked back up at you, that you may not want to do that.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you giggled quietly. “I didn’t mean to—“

“You might not wanna do that, baby girl, or else…”

“I know, I—“

“I might not be able to control myself.” But what Minho could not control was his urge and need to kiss you. He’s held himself back since the moment he saw you, his lips itching to latch onto yours, wanting it to last an eternity. So when he suddenly hovered his face above yours, your lips in danger of touching, your heart thumped against your ribcage, and all breathing essentially stopped. Still, a gaze was exchanged between you two for a moment without words.

When you remembered to breathe, you also spoke. “You’re really quite the man, Song Minho.”

“If anything, you’re the one to blame, Y/N,” he laughed lowly. You reciprocated the laugh as you hugged him warmly.

“They were able to really hit it off so quickly, weren’t they?” the assistant director commented giddily, turning to Christian for a response, just to see him lean on a fist made with the arm that leaned on the arm rest, glaring silently but attentively at you and Minho. “Director?”

“Yeah…” he said emotionlessly. “Such a great couple.”

The water you stepped into was warm enough, nothing that would not be able to immerse yourself in. Once one foot was in, the other followed, until your lower body was within the water. Sitting down, you dipped your body low enough to have the water rise to your shoulders, getting as much of your body as possible wet. You had done so just in time for Christian to enter the bathroom, bringing with him only a camera.

“The monitors are outside, it’s just you and me in here.”

On the other side of the wall was the shower, where Minho took his own place, shooting his own scene. It was multi-tasking, and you had the privilege to work with the director one on one.

Christian kneeled by the tub, trying to position himself perfectly to get the correct angle of revealing as much as modesty would allow before letting the camera roll.

Your poses were soft and delicate, having your fingers skim your shoulders, noting how the warm water trickled down your arms, letting it fall. Through your peripherals you saw Christian maintaining close to you. With this shot being difference, since it was Christian now holding the camera, the situation felt more intimate; as if you were putting on your own show and Christian was a spectator.

So you continued this show of seduction and mystery, leaning your head to the side to expose as much of your neck as possible to your right, slowly rotating it to the other side. Your hands went from an embrace to extend across the bath edge, once again playing with the droplets of water. The porcelain felt cool against your skin, a complete contrast of the heated blood running through you. It was how the day progressed with riskier moves and more lustful intentions which had you all hot and bothered, and now you had a man’s eyes focused solely on your as bare as possible body, providing more excitement.

You chuckled to yourself, the realisation that you were stuck between two men just hitting you; one you had just met but was setting you alight, and the other who you were patiently waiting to ignite you. But your patience was running low.

“Hey, Christian,” you called him over your shoulder, not looking directly at him. You waited for an answer, but nothing, prompting you to turn your head further. “Christian.”

He was engrossed in the footage he was capturing to the point he couldn’t even hear the subject at hand. “Hmm?”

“Are you alright?”

He cleared his throat. “W-why wouldn’t I be? Um, we have to move on. Minho’s already done his shots in the shower, it’s your turn with him now.”

You turned your head in the opposite direction to see Minho just in loose shorts, his torso free of any material. You bit your lower lip, looking at him. Then, you turned your head back to Christian to find him further out in the bathroom, reviewing footage in a small monitor. So much for an intimate moment.

Rising to your feet, you were careful to remove yourself from the water, the cold air of the atmosphere causing your skin to become prickled in goosebumps. With one foot out, the next one was going to be tricky if you were to be sure you weren’t going to slip on the tile floor. Just as the other foot came off the floor of the bath, your hand became occupied by another, seeing that Christian quickly came to your aid. You thanked him quickly and straightened yourself, finding yourself very close to him.

He swallowed a lump. “Were you going to ask me something?”

“Oh, it can wait… Let’s get this done first.”

Before you let Christian say another phrase, you tip toed as quickly as you could to the shower Minho found himself in, calling him out upon arrival. He quickly turned in your direction, his facial expression changing from nonchalant to surprised immediately. Minho first mistook your flesh-coloured strapless bra as you actually being naked, taking a few seconds to register that you were not.

“Well, if this gives the allusion, I’m all for it,” he joked with a light chuckle. “Is this when we become close again?”

“Closer than ever before.”

Minho’s hair was already soaked and raked back with his fingers having pushed it. The tattoo between his neck and shoulder was now much more apparent, as was his toned physique. You felt your throat becoming dry, having to swallow to alleviate it.

You looked down at his relaxed hand, taking it into yours. “You’re not going to turn shy on me, are you?”

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem in the slightest,” Minho smirked and pulled you in closer. “Once I have my hands on you, it’s keeping me away that’s gonna be the problem.”

This sly motherfucker. You bit the inside of your cheek to prevent you from commenting, leaving the playfulness to him. He saw you trying to hide that smile, making him chuckle.

“Haven’t you had fun so far?” he splayed his fingers to weave them between yours, his other hand now resting on the small of your back.

“I’ve had a lot of fun. More than just fun.” You looked up at him to gaze into his eyes, not wanting to blink and break eye contact. His lips were parted as if he was breathing heavily, still with a slight smile on his lips. “I apologise again that the original model couldn’t make it,” you teased him.

The smile widened. He inhaled and moved his body so you would have your back flushed against his chest. The embrace suddenly became closer and tighter, but you still felt profound comfort in his arms. He exhaled a sigh, stating, “No need to apologise. We both come out as winners, don’t you think?”

As he waited for your response, he peppered sweet kisses along your shoulders, making their way up your your neck, making your breath hitch. Your hands grasped at his forearms, the tension Minho felt made him hold you even tighter.

You let your head drop backwards and onto Minho’s shoulder, allow him to progress with his trail further to the shell of your ear.

“I just hope you feel the same way as I do. I want to hold you, to kiss you, to—”

“Don’t say any more,” you stopped Minho in his tracks, releasing yourself from his embrace and turning to face him, cradling his jaw and face. “Keep the fantasy alive. And then show me later.”

Minho groaned lowly, holding you close by your hips. “Fuck, you’re driving me insane.” Resting his forehead on yours he said, “I swear to god, by the end of all of this, I’m gonna–”, but was interrupted by Christian’s loud voice yelling to cut. The cameras were rolling this whole time and neither of you even noticed.

Your head was spinning and you were barely able to focus on much other than how Minho’s body detached from yours reluctantly. Your hand almost reached out to him to pull him back in, fighting with the reality that this was just a video shoot. Forcing yourself to shake yourself out of the thought, you reached for the towel being offered with a smile, dabbing your body from the water that had fallen over you.

Christian neither Minho were in sight anymore, leaving you to exasperate a sigh loudly, shaking your head, “these two…”

Before you knew it, the evening was upon you, just in the time for the outdoor shoot at poolside. It was the assistant’s turn again to inform you on the scene as you were the first to arrive, Minho coming a few minutes later. He was spoken to individually, giving you time to familiarise yourself with the setting. When you turned your head once again, Minho was already making his way towards you.

“Ready?” he winked.

You nodded, leaving him to start getting into the water as instructed. Behind Minho but still at a distance was Christian already looking in your direction with his hands in his pockets. Taken by surprise, your heart jumped, making you clench onto your chest. But you still smiled warmly at him. However, it was not reciprocated. Instead, his body just turned away from you to head towards his station. Baffled by his sudden coldness, you felt the urge to make your way to him, wanting to ensure that you had not done anything wrong or out of line. You couldn’t even do so if you wanted as Christian was quick to call for people’s places, and you had no choice but to do so.

“Roll… Y/N, get ready. Action!”

You took your first steps down the concrete slabs and into the warm pool, picking up a glasses of champagne beside you on a outdoor table. Wearing the clothes meant your body gained mass the more you were inside the pool, but it made for slower and sexier walking.

Coming from behind Minho, already sat down in the shallow end of the pool, he took the opportunity to watch you descended, licking his lips, gawking at the skin the shorts and top you wore exposed. Seeing that you were now coming his way, he shifted to part his legs further, allowing your entry.

Through the dark sunglasses in the night, you could still see how Minho’s eyes wandered over your body, making you bite your lower lip nervously. Getting as close as you can to his body, you kneeled between his legs as you handed him the glass. Clinking his and your glasses together, you held a gaze and you chuckled before you both drank it in one gulp. Minho offered to take both of them to set them well aside and out of your way, turning back to rest his arms along the side of the swimming pool.

You allowed Minho’s body to be turned back to you before you slowly removed your glasses and started to step back and a few feet away from him. You turned and swayed inside the pool, dipping your head so that only your hair would be wet. Straightening your posture again, you made sure to make Minho your focal point, just like you were to him.

Throughout the day, though Minho was flirtatious, he was still sweet in his approach, with a few laughs and smiles. As the day progressed, however, the sweetness in his eyes slowly but surely disappeared, being replaced with lustful and predatory intentions, due to how physically close you had come with him, yet he felt thoroughly teased as he could barely do much more. By the time you reached the late night portion, the pretence that he wanted your body, and that had to show so throughout the whole shoot, became his truth.

Approaching him slowly once more, you could see his sultry eyes, inviting you back to him. Taking the kneeling position once again, you stood on them so you could be eye to eye with Minho.

Barely a centimetre away from his face, you whispered, “I got you worked up, haven’t I?”

“That’s an understatement,” he declared, peering down to your lips. His arms dropped from the pool side to your sides, scooting forward before slipping his hands to your legs, moving them the straighten them and have the wrap around his waist and back. For support, you held on to his neck, but never breaking eye contact. “I feel outrightly denied.”

“Wasn’t the car enough?” you slightly taunted him. “The bed, the shower? Me sitting on your lap right now?”

“Nowhere near enough,” he growled lowly. “I need more of you.”

You looked for signs of genuineness in Minho’s face, to distinguish whether he was being extremely committed to the role, and practically repeating his lyrics to you, or if he does in fact need more of you. His eyes never faltered, his lips perfectly still, not a single knot of tension was felt from his body. Shit, he’s being for real.

You could just imagine Christian seething behind the monitor screen, his fists either clenched on the arm chair or hidden inside his pockets. His jaw locked shut and a slight eye twitch as he watched far from away, struggling to contain as his emotions, but still being the perfect professional.

The perfect professional you were too, and you ran with it. “How do you need me?”

“Fuck,” Minho exhaled, stroking your back under the heavy fabric of your top. “I just need your body. On mine. I want to make you feel good, Y/N.” His head dipped to the side of your neck facing the camera, not allowing anyone, and Christian, to see the mixture of delicate and rough kisses he was placing on your skin. You tried to resist the urge to moan, but when his hands found themselves on your ass cheeks to grind your groin on his, noticing just how stiff Minho had become with you on top of him, with your eyes closed, a long, drawn out moan escaped.

With his teeth clenched, Christian ordered, “start moving around!”

Still holding onto you, Minho rose to his feet, taking further steps inside the swimming pool until the water was up to your shoulders. Minho could not take your eyes off you, still mesmerised by the moan he had just heard. Your hands at his nape travelled up into his hair until your fingers locked on enough strands to pull them, making Minho hiss and clench your ass cheeks more.

“I knew you liked it rough,” he said with a grin, leaving open mouth kisses on your neck and chest, trusting himself he won’t take it as far as to mark you.

The chemistry of your body meant you were easily getting turned on by Minho and his words, his mouth and his hand. Your mind battled with itself with how far should you take this; continuing with what has become soft porn would make great content, but cloud yours and Minho’s emotions, as well as upset Christian further. Stopping this now meant your whole effort was half-assed and you wanted to make a good impression as Christian was the one that brought you in, making you both look bad, but how far did your loyalty to Christian go?

Noting how vacant you were becoming, Minho asked, “What’s on your mind, Y/N?”

“I-I don’t know…” you stuttered, but held Minho closer by wrapping your arms around his neck. “This… is just so hard.”

Thinking he understood what you meant, he suggested, “don’t think about that now. Right now, it’s just you and me.” He got closer to your lips, “just you and me.” As he spoke, his lips brushed lightly over yours, making you lick yours before you resumed the soft contact for a kiss.

Christian swallowed dryly as he watched, clearing his throat before turning his head away to his assistant director. “The underwater camera is ready, right?” As a response he received a nod, but struggled to face the monitor once again.

The kiss was only gentle at first, but enough to make you both sigh deeply. You opted to tilt your head to only increase the pressure of your lips on Minho’s, but the tongue he sneaked out over your bottom lip meant you parted your lips. The kiss was deepened in a matter of minutes, and with your eyes closed, it’s like you had forgotten your surroundings, solely consumed in Minho.

This was to be stopped when Christian had enough, yelling “cut!” to prepare for the next scene. However, the kiss you shared didn’t end as abruptly, with Minho opting to peck your lips before slowly stopping.

“You’re a great kisser,” he complimented biting his smile down on his lower lip, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

Before you could say anything, Christian had already approached you both. “Okay, listen–”

“Was that good?” Minho interrupted him, curious.

“Huh?” Christian pretended to be unphased. “Oh. Yeah, yeah, whatever. Listen, we’re gonna do the underwater shot. You’ll have two cameras out of frame from each other on each side. All you have to do is know where the cameras are and fall in holding each other. Alright?”

Though you looked at Christian, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you, and just looked to Minho for clearance. Christian got a thumbs up from him but didn’t see your nod, turning away instantly.

Minho held your hand to lead the way out of the pool to then let you pass him so you could walk up the stairs first. The assistant director was already standing in your allocated spot waiting for you, instructing you that you were to fall one on top of the other to allow the cameras to face the sides of your faces. Who would fall back first was up to you to decide.

“I’ll lead the way,” Minho said, this whole time still holding your hand. You also suggested it’d be best to fall on your knees to minimise splash and waves in the water to get a clearer shot. The assistant director agreed, leaving you both to take your places.

Minho kneeled down with his back to the water, and you followed suit being as close to him as possible. He held you tight by your waist and you by his shoulders. Looking down at your placement in the pavement, you could feel his fingers stroking your wet lower back in the attempt to relax you again.

“Don’t forget to hold your breath, just like how you do whenever I touch you,” he teased you.

“And I’m surprised you still have enough blood circulating to get to your brain,” you teased back, indicating with your eyes to his hard-on.

He smirked before leaning in to your ear. “I’ve been like this since the moment I saw you, imagining all the things I could be doing to you after.” Your eyes widened and you swallowed dryly, making him laugh lowly and peck your cheek.

“Places!” you were reminded of Christian’s presence. “And, action!”

An above water camera followed your moves and Minho leaned back his body holding onto yours until you were submersed in the water, both of you closing your eyes. Though you leaned with your chin under his shoulder, he pulled away from you slightly to face you once again, instantly planting your lips on yours. Your hands traced his face before creeping lower to his abdomen, tugging at his shirt. His own hands went from your waist to your face, cradling in to kiss you harder.

With your eyes closed, though your body was submissive to Minho’s every move and touch, your mind started racing with a thousand questions and thoughts: what have I gotten myself into? Why did Minho fall for me? Did we take this too far? I want Minho. I don’t want Minho. I’m here for Christian. What would Christian think? Christian. Christian!

Feeling your stored air supply running low, you brought yourself above water, gasping immediately for air. The water still in your ears muffled your surrounding, not hearing your name being called out.

“Y/N!” You turned your head in the direction of the voice, seeing it was Christian. “I called cut thirty seconds ago!”

Were you in there for that long? You turned to your right seeing Minho above water also, a stern expression on his face, to then back at Christian.

“I-I couldn’t hear well underwater and–”

“You should have paid more attention!” Christian’s voice was far too loud, and you could tell the malicious intent behind his words. The whole crew stood still as they looked at you and Minho, anticipating with fear what Christian might do next. You’ve never felt more embarrassed in your life. You looked at him disappointingly, but his angry glare never dying down. Because of this, you looked away from him and turned your back, heading for the stairs. Just by this, Christian knew he fucked up.

You didn’t allow Minho to help you at any stage, always three steps ahead of him. A production assistant was ready to offer you a towel, mouthing a thank you before you took it. Having to walk past Christian, you avoided looking at him, and kept walking as fast and as carefully as you could due to the wet surface.

“Come on, Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that–” he tried to apologise, attempting to reach out for your arm, but the water droplets on you meant you could pull away from his hold with ease, continuing to walk.

Christian stayed glued in his place, and Minho approached. “Don’t you think that was too harsh, hyung? I couldn’t hear you either.”

He didn’t respond, just turned to face him, biting his tongue before he said anything he would regret.

When he didn’t answer, Minho said, “I’ll go talk to her.”

“No,” Christian barricaded Minho with his arm to stop him from stepping any further. “I did this, I’ll go talk to her.”

Walking back into the penthouse and down its corridor, he noted that the front door was wide open but no one by it. He knew the room you used to get ready in was the room directly next to the front door, jogging there, but it was empty.

“Fuck!” he hissed to himself. He scrambled for his phone in your pocket, unlocking it to reach his recent calls, tapping your name immediately. Straight to voicemail. He cursed again.

Walking out the door, he still thought he could catch up to you, but by the time he reached the lobby and the main entrance, you were nowhere to be seen. Christian couldn’t abandon his crew as he had not called it a day yet, and so he returned to the top floor.

“Guys, it’s a wrap! Thank you everyone for your hard work! Let’s wrap everything up and go home!”

The crew was only able to meekly clap for themselves, quickly returning to the chatter of what just happened. But Minho wasn’t buying it.

“Hyung!” he called out making his way to him. “Where is she?”

With sadness and uncertainty, he shook his head, “I don’t know.”

The editing room was dark as per usual, but now also in the mood and not just in atmosphere. In the early mornings of a Sunday morning, a week after having completed the shooting of the Body video, Christian continued to struggle to concentrate with the work at hand. He ruffled his hair in the attempt to vacate his mind with thoughts of you, thinking if you didn’t think to call him in these last few days or be at your apartment where he knew he’d find you, then he should not be worried about you either.

But it wasn’t that easy; as soon as he’d decide to resume life as normal, he’d pick up his phone to check for any missed calls again, and if there were none, he’d call you. Of course, you would not answer.

Christian had a deadline to meet and it was fast approaching. The video was to be released in two weeks and YG, after having seen a draft cut and providing suggestions and requirements, wanted to see a final cut by Monday. Agreeing with himself that if he spent just this night editing, he would not need to worry about it in the following morning. And so, the following six hours were spent in front of two monitors, struggling to keep his eyes open. As soon as the draft file was exported, Christian was knocked out cold in his chair.

He was woken abruptly by his phone vibrating on his desk, groaning as he raised his head off his folded arms. He scrambled for it, turning it facing upwards to reveal ‘DB.’

“Hello?” he mumbled.

“Hey, Ian,” Dabin said. “You up yet or nah?”

“What time is it?”

“Like two in the afternoon?” he said. “Yeah, seven past two.”

“Jesus…” he groaned once again, slowly getting to his feet. “I fell asleep right after editing.”

“Damn… I’ll call you when you’re more awake,” he offered with a chuckle.

“Alright, just… give me ten minutes.” Christian hung up to throw his phone onto his desk once again, running his hands over his face. Slowly but surely he walked to the bathroom to head into the shower. The quick shower was enough to refresh him, wearing his typical casual attire.

Dabin did as he promised and called a few minutes later. “I called just wondering if you’ve heard of Y/N lately. I’ve been wanting a favour—“

“No, I haven’t spoken to her lately,” he gritted his teeth at hearing your name. “I’ve tried calling her but…”

“I know you fucked up but I didn’t think she’d give me the same cold shoulder, damn.”

“I didn’t fuck up, I—“ Christian sighed. “Can I ask what you need from her.”

“Really, I was just gonna ask her to talk to Loco or Zi. Minho’s been asking around for her, she could get his number from them.”

He gritted his teeth again. “Of course… I honestly don’t know where she’s at. I’ve been trying to call her, been to her place… nothing. Don’t even know if she’s not in the damn country or not, if she could just—“ Christian was stopped by the bell of his front door ringing, followed by a lazy knock on the door.

“You know what Y/N’s like,” Dabin spoke. “Just give her a few more days, and she’ll come to her senses.”

Christian approached his door with the phone still in his ear. As he was not expecting anyone, he was sure to peek through the peephole before opening the door.

“Uh, hey man,” Christian said, having his hand to the door handle, opening the door. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

“Oh, aight. Remember, give Y/N the message, this dude is pissing everyone off asking around for—“

The phone call ended before the sentence could even be completed, as Christian opened the door in anger as well as relief. “Where the fuck have you been?”

“Not that it’s anything to do with you,” you replied coldly. “I’m just here to see the video.” You attempted to make your way into the apartment, but was blocked by Christian stepping in to block your path. “Can you let me in? Please?”

“Not until you tell me where you’ve been. You’ve been gone a week, I’ve been trying to call you, went to your place. You’ve acted like such an insufferable brat, god, I just—“ Christian stopped in his tracks when he remembered that he too acted like an insufferable brat that day. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...”

He looked at you for some kind of response, emotion or movement. But you remained still in your spot still waiting for him to move out of your way. Rolling his eyes and sighing, he finally gave in, stepping to his left.

You smiled sarcastically. “Thank you.”

Being able to walk in, you were quick to slide off your shoes, heading straight to the living room. Christian went to the table where his laptop was, bringing it with him to sit beside you. Opening it on his lap, it only took a few clicks before he had the video playing, making sure it was at full volume.

You held onto your knees tightly as the video began, paying close attention to the shots chosen. When you first saw yourself on the screen, you were surprised at how the camera moved over you, seeing how well executed they were. During the whole shoot you were afraid you weren’t hitting the right movements or poses, providing only awkward angles, but Christian proved otherwise.

The scenes chosen of you and Minho where the sugar-coated or tame ones; the video oozed the sex appeal it was trying to portray, doing so perfectly. You were more interested in your own portrayal, with the thoughts of ‘could you have done enough’ clouding your thoughts since you left the location. Although the more intimate scenes of you and Minho brought back vivid memories of the day, you would catch a peak at Christian to see how he’d react. He was just as pissed as ever.

When the video came to an end was when you could finally relax the grip on your knees, sighing deeply. “Is this what you’re giving to them?”

He nodded, closing his laptop and placing it on the coffee table. “Minho hasn’t even seen any of it yet.”

“No? Oh...”

“He, um,” he cleared his throat. “He’s been trying to get your number too.” He leaned back in his seat with an arm behind your head resting on top of the sofa, slightly turning his body to you.

Turning to him also, you asked, “you didn’t give it to him, did you?”

“Of course not, I’m not that stupid.” And have him take you away from me? Fuck that.

“Good, because...” you scratched the back of your head. “That shoot was... something else. It was only that one time, if you have any more models flake out on you, then I’m sorry, but leave me out of it.”

“You took the job a little too seriously...” he turned his head and said under his breath, but you still heard him clearly.

“Excuse me?” you raised an eyebrow. “I did as you told me to do, don’t bring that shit onto me now.”

Christian clenched his jaw at your truth. “I won’t ask you again. To have you all over someone else like that again, the dude’s lucky I didn’t—“ He let his thoughts run through his head and past his lips, not having realised he done so. With each word he confessed, your eyes grew in shock.

“You motherfucker!” you shoved him. “I knew you were jealous! It was written all over your pitiful face, giving me the dirtiest looks when all I was doing was a favour for you!”

“I needed someone and quickly, Y/N. You were the first woman I thought of that I knew Minho would like. Plus, you liked the video, they’re gonna like the video, so what’s the fucking problem?”

“At what cost? Huh? Now we’re here arguing--”

“You’re the one who ran away instead of facing me like an adult! And why did you do that? Did you not want to face me afterwards or something?”

“I just...” you groaned, “needed some space. And if you were the adult that you’re trying to preach, why couldn’t you just tell me from the get-go that you were uncomfortable? For the sake of the video?”

He bowed his head. “I was going to talk to you after... I was—for fuck’s sake, Y/N.”

The distress was clear in Christian’s body language, making you feel rather guilty. “I didn’t mean to get you so worried. The whole thing was overwhelming, so I just needed a few days away from everything.” Because Christian would not raise his head, and simply looked at the gap between you both on the sofa, you shifted closer to him, placing your index finger under his chin to make him look at you. “The video turned out great. They’re gonna love it, I promise.”

Christian was almost taken aback at how close you now were, his eyes couldn’t help but divert to your lips before licking his own.

His hand came up to your cheek and jaw, using his thumb to caress your face. “You really think so?”

The finger under his chin moved to his cheek until the hand eventually came around his head to the back of his head. “I know so.”

Your lips glued to Christian’s like a magnet, revelling in the softness of his lips over yours. The kiss would only be gentle for a few moments before Christian leaned into your further, becoming more rugged and needy.

With the hands he placed on your waist, he was able to hoist you over on top of his lap, already dragging his hands along your back. “You better be fucking sorry.”

You growled. “So should you.”

The kiss left you both breathless, but neither one of you seemed to want to stop. The material of your black leggings was thin enough to feel Christian’s growing bulge beneath his grey track bottoms, having it sit perfectly in between your clothed slit. As if innately, you started to slowly grind against him slowly, providing yourself with enough friction.

The motion of your hips had Christian moaning into your mouth. “Ugh, fuck, Y/N.” He held you by your waist tighter, wanting you to grind down on him harder. “You’re such a tease.”

“But doesn’t it feel good?” you paused the kiss and smirked, looking at him with sultry eyes, seeing the neediness in his.

He looked down at where your crotches connected, watching as his mouth gaped. “Fuck, more than good.”

You held him by his chin to pull his face back up again, resuming the deep kiss. Beginning to multi-task, you removed your jean jacket while still maintaining a motion in your hips and keeping Christian’s lips on yours.

Reluctantly, though it was necessary, Christian parted his lips from yours to remove his black tee, giving you the chance to take off your white tank top. Once the top part of your breasts were exposed by your bra, Christian began to trail sloppy kisses from your jaw, placing a few on your neck, continuing down to the flesh, nipping at its soft skin.

You hissed and exhaled at his marks, feeling that he was leaning into you more and more. However, you decided to take back the upper hand by shoving him back to the sofa by a push of his shoulder. Before he could say anything, you proceeded the same treatment as he done onto you previously, repeating the same trail of kisses whilst also removing your legs from his sides.

Getting your kisses lower down to his stomach, you got yourself onto your knees between his widely parted legs. As you travelled down his body, his gaze never left not even wanting to blink and miss a moment.

Christian had his bottom lip under the grip of his teeth as he continued to watch you closely, after having quickly disposed of his basketball shorts and boxers, whining inwardly at how much you teased him, placing the sweetest kisses along his shaft. Your fingers wrapped around the tip, holding onto it, rotating your hand over him gently.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he exhaled. “You’re killing me here.”

You chuckled. “Good.” Drawing out a wet tongue, first you massaged his balls with the muscle, slowly dragging it up his cock, being sure to leave a trail behind. Pulling back his taut skin entirely, your tongue reached the underside of the tip, and Christian hissed.

His jaw gaped and he held his breath as your mouth took just the head in, sucking softly. Having his breath still trapped in his throat, you widened yours to drop your widened lips, wanting to reach the shaft. As soon as Christian felt himself hit the wall at the back of your mouth, he groaned loudly. You held your mouth there for a second before bopping your head, making his lower stomach tighten already.

“Holy fucking shit,” Christian moaned, attempting to insert himself further into your mouth. “Fuck, that mouth of yours–keep going, baby.”

You withdrew yourself from his cock, leaving it far wetter than previously, but quickly returned, creating a steady pace. Christian had his eyes screwed shut with a heaving chest, trying to breathe as normally as he could. It was becoming increasingly hard to do, his throbbing cock being stroked and sucked such a way he was at your mercy.

“If I just knew earlier, ah,” he tried to speak, though would also moan, “we would have cut the bullshit way earlier.”

Your mouth released him, having only your hand work over his slick cock, the lewd sounds you created turning you both on further. “Let’s make it worth the wait.”

He sighed deeply before letting his head fall back on the back of the sofa, one hand gripping the material beneath him, the other hand raked its fingers through his hair. When you took him back into his mouth, at a faster pace this time, his hisses and whines became more frequent. He was putty in your hands, and mouth, his moans making you grin to yourself mentally. As a physical reaction, you did feel the lace of your panties get increasingly soaked at the sight of Christian’s twisting face, wanting to see it more. So, to kick it up a notch, the grip you help him with tightened, sucking harder.

“Fuck, fuck!” he now yelled out in pleasure. “You’re gonna make me–fuck, I’m cumming!” Both of his hands flew to the side of your head to keep it still, thrusting himself into your mouth. You didn’t stop, however, wanting to take him over that edge.

With a few more strangled moans, his voice halted. Upon your tongue, you felt the salty ribbons of cum shoot onto it, coating it entirely. Christian’s thighs shook beside you as you didn’t let him go, making choke out.

“Y/N!” it sounded like a plea, but you didn’t respond. Instead, you continued to work your mouth over him, though slower this time. Breathing heavily, he couldn’t help having his hips sputter as you took him into overstimulation. “Baby, please!”

You giggled as he begged, being merciful enough to slowly take yourself away him, looking at him. You gulped loudly, letting him seed trickle down your throat, and quickly making your way up his body to reach his neck, kissing its skin roughly.

“You sound like you enjoyed that,” you chuckled, embracing him. He didn’t respond, and instead pulling his shorts up again and returned a stronger embrace, enough to pick you up.

“I’ll be glad to return the favour,” he said as he got up to his feet, taking you with him. The walk to the bedroom was short, and you two were in bed in no time. First thing that had to be done was discard yourselves of all items of clothing, leaving them on the bedroom floor.

Christian still kept the upper hand, parting your legs for him, nestling between them. His hardening cock was felt on your inner thigh, making you wince. Your whines became louder when Christian pushed up a breast to his mouth, licking its nipple. You squirmed under him, already feeling yourself getting wet. He followed on to the next breast, now making you moan.

“Get on me,” he stroked your thighs, kissing your chest. “On my face.”

You were about to ask if he was sure about it, but you were becoming increasingly impatient and Christian was already on his back ready to take you. Large strands of Christian’s jet-black hair fell across his forehead, making you brush the backwards and keeping your fingers locked in them. Taking the opportunity to keep his head still, you scooted up his torso, widening your legs to prepare your knees to have them rest on each side of his head. Providing enough space for him, Christian’s arms came under your thighs to secure themselves around them.

You peaked at Christian’s smug face one more time, chuckling at his confidence, returning the same look. The chortle stopped when you felt kisses being placed on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your centre. You gritted your teeth as Christian continued to tease you, impatiently waiting for more. To get a point across, you tightened your grip on his hair, making him hiss. In response, he began to graze his teeth on your soft skin to then suck on it harshly.

“Ah, Christian,” you gasped. “You haven’t just been teasing me only now and this past week, it’s been a whole damn year, don’t–”

“How do you think I feel?” he whined, digging his nails into your thigh. “It’s nothing you can’t handle.”

“Nuh uh, you already got yours, I want mine now.”

Christian cocked an eyebrow. “Be careful what you wish for, baby.”

“I’m not wishing for anything, I’m telling you–”

Your words were cut short having felt a long swipe of Christian’s wet tongue on your swollen clit, the sensation overtaking your body almost immediately. You fought to keep your body up straight as his tongue continued to manoeuvre perfectly beneath you, taking in deep breaths to see if it’d help you regain control of your body. The effort went to waste when Christian used a sturdier tongue on your clit and your body bucked forward, making you use flattened hands on the wall in front of you.

Christian groaned into you, becoming turned on again by how much of an effect he was having on you. With that, his arms encased around your thighs tighter, drove his mouth deeper and faster in your pussy. You were a moaning mess above him, no longer being able to suppress your moans. With each passing moment, with your sweet voice being music to Christian’s ears, he found himself slowly thrusting his hips up into the air, his cock lying thickly on his pelvic bone.

“That’s it, baby,” you panted. “You’re turning me on so fucking much, holy fuck.”

Your pending arousal coated Christian’s lips, and he ensured to sop up every last drop, using your wetness to glide his tongue across your clit more quickly. Your nails scratched at the paint on the wall, looking for something to grip onto for control. That extra support on your hands enabled you to start gyrating your hips, grinding your pussy on Christian’s tongue. Once again he moaned, louder this time, and pushed up his hips too.

Your focus was divided in search for your orgasm as well as how hot Christian looked. The way he clasped onto your thighs, the determination in his eyes and how he got turned on each time you made a bold move, all those together were a recipe for pure bliss.

But you wanted one final ingredient; you pushed yourself off the wall to stand up straight, having your hand reach down to your lower lips, spreading them with your index and middle finger. “Let me see that tongue of yours.”

Christian complied with your request with another groan, parting his lips wide enough to expose most of his tongue. At first the tip of his muscle circled around your clit, and as it was now more exposed, your sensitivity was on another level. The hand that was initially in his hair returned, earning a grin from Christian.

“That good, Y/N?”

“Not good, it’s fucking amazing–shit!”

Christian’s whole tongue was now rapidly and roughly probing your clit, and let your let escape a loud whine. Your thighs also started to shake within his hold, feeling that familiar but more satisfying sensation at the pit of your stomach.

“Christian!” you shouted.

“Come on, baby, cum for me,” Christian ordered. “Be a good girl for me and cum in my mouth.”

His words certainly had you weaker to the point your hands had to return to the wall for support one more time. A few more choked moans escaped until your body convulsed, succumbing to your first orgasm of the night. Crying out, your peak hit every corner of your body with Christian’s tongue still flicking rapidly over your clit.

“Oh god!” You were hit with a second wave, almost making you fall backwards. “Okay, okay!” you giggled hysterically. “Christian, I—“ He didn’t stop. “Fuck, stop!”

The hold he had on your thighs loosened as he found your pleas amusing, laughing with you. “I warned you.”

“Have you got any more tricks up your sleeve?” you asked sliding down his body until your face aligned with his, seeing him smile at you.

Your lips roamed freely across Christian’s jaw and neck, holding him close to you by his nape. Christian, in the meantime, held his shaft, using his tip to tease your entrance and clit, wanting to see you writhe over him.

“Oh, come on, Christian,” your voice shook, your nails clawing at his skin. “You’re the worst fucking tease in the world.”

Christian chortled at your remark, “Patience, baby. Just enjoy it a bit. Enjoy me.”

He kept a hand on your waist, trying to keep your lower body still though your hips moved on their own, but he was fighting a battle against himself, trying to prevent him from fucking you senseless right then and there. But why deny himself?

“I’ll enjoy you a lot more once you start fucking me.” You took matters into your own hands, holding his cock over his own hand, finding your entrance quickly. You both moved your hands to allow Christian to sink into you, lowering your hips steadily.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Christian gritted his teeth, hands flying to grip your waist. “Slowly or I’ll cum already.”

“Christian! I just–” you started to work your hips despite Christian’s hold, dipping lower to have him deeper inside of you, getting that tantalizing stretch you were looking for. “Just let me ride you.”

At your request, Christian let his head fall back onto the pillows, releasing his hands from you, allowing you to do as you wished. You were able to stand up straight, seeking leverage by flattening your palms against his chest, enabling you to pick up your speed. Christian adored the view of your gaped mouth, your bouncing breasts and peaking to see himself disappear inside of you every time you descended onto him.

“Fuck me, you’re tight,” he panted. “Just a little faster, Y/N.”

His hands returned to your waist to commence the desired speed, thrusting his hips upwards. Your nails dug deeper into his flesh as the pleasure began to be intensified. You still tried to work your hips against his, having you both in the work, only creating more friction between the both of you to the point you couldn’t even hold yourself up.

Collapsing against his chest in indulgence, the most you could was wrap an arm around his neck as the other hand scratched at the bed sheets. Your moans and deep breaths became more sporadic the faster he went, his intentions of keeping you on edge until the end long gone, immersed in his own needs.

“C-Christian!” you choked out. “You’re so deep–shit, don’t stop!”

He groaned deeply at your demand, snaking an arm entirely around your waist, and his other hand gripped onto your shoulder, keeping your body perfectly still for him to slam his cock faster and deeper into your pussy, cursing under his breath.

“You like me filling up your tight, pretty pussy, huh? Getting my cock so fucking wet, goddamn…”

“It’s all you,” you heaved, his words making your heart beat faster. “All you, baby. I’m not going to–you’re gonna make me cum.”

“You’re gonna cum again for me?” he smirked. You nodded. “You better cum so fucking hard on my cock.”

“Then keep going. I’m so close!”

The tight grip Christian had on you maintained as he suddenly turned you onto your back but never breaking contact. He took the arm you had over his neck to put both of them over your head, pinning you to the bed by your wrists. Your knees instantaneously raised to part your legs further, facilitating Christian’s relentless thrusts.

The constraint he had over you disabled you from movement, in turn you focused on the pleasure you were receiving, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to your impending orgasm.

“F-fuck!” you gasped, that familial sensation rising to the surface. “I’m cumming!” Your eyes couldn’t help but roll to the back of your head, shutting your eyelids. With your lower back digging into the mattress, your back arched deeply, and Christian’s cock continuously brushed harshly against your g-spot as his thrusts never faltered. “Oh god!”

Your walls spasmed and contracted around Christian, increasing his satisfaction. “Ah, Y/N!” This only made his fuck you more rapidly through your orgasm, and your legs began to shake beyond your control. He chased his orgasm in the middle of yours with such ferocity, taking no mind to how sensitive you now were. You cried out his name, but not telling him to stop. You wanted him to cum too, even though you were being driven into oblivion. When he released your wrists to fist the mattress on the sides of your body, your fingernails returned to leave marks all over his back and neck, trying to hold on tight.

“Christian!” you couldn’t take it anymore. “I–fuck–I–”

“I’m gonna cum! Y/N, I’m gonna cum!” the pitch of his voice was higher. His hands flew to the crease between your thigh and groin, pulling you closer to him as he administered the last remaining deep thrusts, burying himself inside of you entirely, spilling his seed inside the latex sleeve. He moaned your name a few more times as he breathed erratically, his orgasm washing over him. “Holy fuck!”

As he tried to control his breathing, his thrusts were shallow and slower, easing up on you. Eventually sitting up on his knees, Christian was able to dab with the back of his hand some sweat droplets that had formed on his forehead. Still, the overstimulation left you sensitive to any touch, needing a moment to recuperate.

That clearly wasn’t going to happen. “Baby, one more.”

Your eyes widened. “What?! Oh no, Christian, I can’t take another one, please!”

“I can’t get enough of you,” he breathed heavily. “You feel too fucking good, let me make you feel good too.”

As you were about to whine at how worn out you felt, Christian dipped his mouth instantly on your neck, grazing his teeth across it roughly. Instead of speaking your words, you moaned restlessly. Lost under his lips, you hadn’t even realised he had already disposed his previous condom, already opening the packet of a new one.

“Don’t expect me to do any more work,” you giggled. “I’m worn out.”

“Of course not,” he held you by your hips, wanting to put you on your stomach. “Let me take care of you now.”

Though your body was limp, the little bit of energy you managed to generate was used to aid Christian, turning your body to have your ass up to him. He kept you low, only wanting your legs spread enough to slide between them. One leg lied in a ninety degree angle, as the other was between Christian’s thighs. He scooted closer to you, his cock still as hard as ever.

He clenched onto a cheek, giving him way to slide his tip along the length of your core once again to ensure you were just as wet. He received confirmation when he slipped into you with ease, though your walls still gripped his shaft. Just as tight and wet as before, Christian wasted no time in the gradual build up, deciding to thrust into you at a steady but rough pace from the get-go.

You thought your sensitivity would subside with short break taken, and you were so wrong. You began to contract over his cock as if your orgasm was still recent and fresh, and your lower body started to shake once more.

“Fuck, oh god,” you were somewhat surprised that despite your mind signalling that you were spent, your body reacted otherwise with your g-spot being easily stimulated once again. Trying to keep your whimpers low, you grabbed for the pillow to bring it closer, biting down onto the fabric of the pillow case. Some moans still escaped but for the most part, you were relatively quiet.

Christian took note of this and dipped his head down to your ear, maintaining the fierceness of his thrusts. “Don’t hide from me now, Y/N, I want to hear how good I’m making you feel. Can you do that for me, hmm?” He purposely administered harder thrusts just to get a reaction from you, and succeeded. “So much time wasted, keeping this good pussy from me. I should be making you beg for me, but you feel too good, fuck.” His palm went flying to swat your cheek with admirable strength, making you yelp. He did it once again and you groaned, both in pain and pleasure. “You like that, baby, huh?” he grinned mischievously. “You looked like you were ready to fuck Minho that night, knowing that I was watching, getting jealous. You wanted to fuck him, didn’t you?” Another smack.

“Fuck! No!” you panted. “I wanted you that whole time. Only you!”

“Say it again.”

“I only want you, Christian. Only you.”

Like music to his ears, the grin never disappeared from his face as he slammed his hips into you more quickly with much more force. Your moans turned into whines and cries, the pleasure too intense.

“He’d never be able to fuck you like this. Never,” he snarled into your ear. “You’re mine. All mine.” Christian himself breathed heavily in the midst of his loud moans, feeling every stroke get him closer to his third orgasm. “Shit, shit, I’m—“

“Gonna cum! Fuck!” You pulled the sheets out of the corners of the bed, feeling your body tense up for the third time, more rigidly this time around. Christian’s body collapsed over yours, still thrusting deeply inside you.

“Oh, baby,” he grazed his teeth on the flesh of your shoulders. “You’re... whew, fuck me.”

“I can’t...” you said weakly. “I really—goddamn it, three times?”

“What, not enough for you?” Christian rolled off you, taking off his condom and tying it at the end. “Just give me ten minutes.”

“No, I mean,” you got onto your back. “Jesus, I don’t even know what I mean.”

“I didn’t make you that lost for words, did I?” He turned to you with open arms, taking you by your waist to face him. “But you sounded so hot when you were moaning for me... saying my name...” He kissed your lips softly like in the beginning, caressing your back. “Come with me tomorrow to give in the final cut.”

“With you?” you sounded surprised. “You already want to show me off?”

“I said you were mine,” he sighed. “And I meant it.”

Christian became possessive with his touch and kisses again, pulling you in close once more.

“I thought you said you needed ten minutes.”

“I can’t wait anymore,” he pulled your thigh over his body before turning into you, positioning himself between your legs once again. “And neither can you.”

a/n: well, sweetheart, i hope you had fun reading this.

#christian yu smut #christian yu scenarios #khh smut #khh scenarios #dpr smut #dpr scenarios #christian yu #kpop smut #dpr #kpop scenarios #do i tag this as c-clow smut too #ehhh nah #this took 24 hours in the span of four week to write goddamn #mino smut #mino scenarios #winner smut #winner scenarios #i've already thought up and started on a small part 2 to this lol that's how fucked up christian and his insta lives have me #*

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landonho1993 · 4 years ago

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misspandalily · 7 years ago

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because Team Gai is so extra

Last entry for Nejiten Month! Prompts used: it isn’t my fault you’re perfect, gifts

AO3 | FFN

"Your new hurdle assessment piece: in pairs, you will be assigned an egg to care for over the next month. Now, please come up to the front to draw your partner's name."

Because she has no surname, Tenten is the first to draw a name from the weird, sparkly blue top hat that Mr Hatake insists on displaying year-round, even though it's a little frayed at the edges and losing the rich sapphire colour it used to have. She remembers Temari the Senior telling her that it's because he actually stores his porn books in it, though no one's ever come close enough to the hat to find one. He also wears a mask, for some reason, and she's pretty sure that it's against Departmental Regulations but Mr Hatake is also the coolest health teacher on campus so she isn't about to cross that line. Yet.

She dips her hand into the hat, swirls it around a bit, prays that she'll have a partner who'll help her pass and not shatter the egg, then picks up a piece of paper that's folded so precisely it's an exact square. Opening it up, Tenten is awarded by the most shocking revelation of her life. Who in the blazes is 'Neji Hyuga'?

Neji Hyuga, apparently, is that guy who sits right at the front with his hair immaculately tied into a ponytail and snaps out lines that border between poetry and insults. She honestly has never paid much attention to him, only now knowing that he's been topping the academic board for so long that no one - not even the teachers - bother acting surprised when he scores highest every year. Also, he's the cousin of Konoha High's wallflower, Hinata Hyuga, a sweet sophomore who's so quiet and kind that no one in the school wants to pick on her, ever. Which is why their relation comes as another shock to Tenten because Neji (who actually talks a lot in class, to her surprise) is probably the worst person she's ever met.

"Hi, I'm Tenten," she holds out a hand for him to shake. Their seats are being reassigned to whoever their new partners are, and amongst all of the shuffling and shouting that's going on, Tenten is one to always remember etiquette because she's a good girl who was raised right by the orphanage caretaker. The same doesn't seem to go for him, because he leaves her hanging and replies with a stiff nod. "Okay," she slumps into her new, disgustingly warm, seat, "nice to meet you too."

"Let's just get this over and done with," he says with an air of finality. Tenten sputters, her eyes darting between the egg sitting before them and his stoic face. He returns her incredulous gaze with one of impetuousness. "We only need to talk whenever the assignment entails it."

"Wow," she mutters to herself, then side-eyes him, and decides to completely skip over the part where she wants to retain her etiquette, "You are such a loser."

That gets his attention. Neji swivels in his seat, abhorred. "I don't think I recall you topping the school's academic board."

"I came first in PE, doucheface," she hisses back when Mr Hatake's powerpoint slides pop up - a sign for total silence that no one has ever listened to in the years he's been teaching here (so, five).

"Ah, a subject for men."

"Yeah, well," her brain is rifling through the vast database of insults she stores in her mind whenever she's in the shower and arguing with an imaginary person, "If you look at that list, you don't even qualify as one."

Neji stares. Mr Hatake finally manages to quiet down the class with a horn he keeps stowed away in his top drawer. Neji continues to stare, to her satisfaction. "I don't like you."

"Neji," Mr Hatake calls out, having caught him for breaking the Sacred Rule of Silence, "Kindly refrain from defying authority for today, thank you."

From her slumped posture, elbows on the table, fingers holding her pens and paper in place, Tenten tilts her head back and lets out a silent laugh.

"Look," Tenten sighs for the fiftieth time since entering the Hyuga Compound. It's a large mansion with marble floors, columns and staircases; she's slipped once or twice, because that's how polished it is. They're in Neji's room, deciding on a name for their egg (which apparently takes more than the six allotted hours of a school day when it comes to Neji Hyuga's 'List of Adequate Baby Egg Names, Condensed and Revised for Tenten's Stupidity') and timetabling their shifts. "Could you please stop thermoregulating the egg? Literally nothing has changed in the past two hours. Give it a rest."

He almost gasps in astonishment, but she counts it as a success when he finally removes his thermometer from the mini marble egg bathtub. Don't ask, because she'll tell you anyway, but Neji claims that his little cousin Hanabi has a Thing for collecting elaborate, custom-made egg-holders. Tenten doesn't buy it. At all. "Excuse you. My child will be cared for in the way I deem fit."

"Wow," she watches him fuss over his - their - egg like a mother hen and massages her forehead delicately. "I think I just understood something."

"Meaning?"

"Nothing flattering for you, that's what."

"I don't need flattery from you when I have Eggbert to care for."

"Hold up," Tenten places her palms in the air, affronted, "Eggbert? I thought we agreed on Eggs Benedict?"

Neji scoffs with his nose high up in the air. "No child of mine will be named Eggs Benedict. How barbaric."

"I'm sorry," she starts sarcastically, "It's not my fault you're so perfect. After we inaugurate the egg into your clan, shall we decide on Eggbert von Hyugastein's bedroom decor?"

"The best suggestion you've made since...well, ever."

Tenten groans. This is going to be a long month.

Despite the looming threat of mid-year exams catching on, Neji sticks to their shift timetables like a slavedriver and insists on getting the compulsory 'joint parenting outing' out of the way so that he 'never has to see her face again'. Like he can even help that. They literally have every class together.

Because he's the one forcing her out of her procrastinatory slumber, though, she gets to choose where they go - egg-racing in the park with Lee, since he refused to pay for a huge dinner at Konoha's most expensive restaurant (The Golden Flower) for their family.

Reputedly the most active person in all of Konoha, tying only with Mr Gai, Rock Lee wears spandex-green jumpsuits on a constant basis and emulates his idol Bruce by spending almost every waking second in the gym and dojo, if not on his extremely sleek bob. He's overwhelming, but he's also Tenten's best friend, as well as someone Neji once described to her as 'pitiful' and 'annoying', so that's why they're meeting up with him.

Predictably, Lee's egg is painted forest green, complete with orange leg-warmers and a mini-bob, and is called the 'Springtime of Youth'. Tenten takes utter delight in the cringe that spreads across Neji's face when he realises that they have to spend the next ten hours with Lee unless he agrees to spread out 'joint parenting outing' over a month instead of a day.

Anyway, the race is amazing. Lee puts all of his energy into everything he does, so it's a complete obstacle course of sloping slides and mazes for the waxed eggs to roll through. She places all of her savings (so, fifty cents - she likes to buy things, okay? Shut up, Neji.) on Eggbert von Hyugastein and is shockingly backed up by Neji's big, fat, fifty-dollar bill. The gesture catches her off-guard, because he's actually smiling at her, but then Lee declares the betting pool closed and starts the race.

Here's a snippet of how it goes:

"Lee's winning. LEE'S EGG IS WINNING. SPRINGTIME OF YOUTH IS WINNING. NEJI."

Neji calmly squints at their egg, dressed to the nines in tailored Hyuga robes, to move faster down the padded obstacle course. It works; Springtime of Youth suddenly comes to a halt, giving Eggbert the precious few seconds it needs to gain ground. Tenten whoops and tackles Neji into a headlock.

"YOU'RE AMAZING. NEJ, WE'RE WINNING!"

Neji manages to claw his way out and straighten his robes with enough dignity to make the Queen feel ashamed. "I told you," Tenten's seconds away from crying tears of happiness when she looks at him, "Eggbert is telepathic."

"My baby's growing up," Tenten wipes a tear away from the corner of her eye as she leans her head onto Neji's stiffened shoulder. "Our baby's growing up."

"Honey, I'm home!"

Neji opens the door to his room and greets her. "I prefer being called Neji."

"I was talking to Eggbert, loser."

"Oh," Neji replies, trying not to look too disappointed.

Tenten places her bag on the ground and coos at the egg perched in its diorama-room, in between the mini-marble columns and Picasso paintings on the walls. "How's my widdle baby doing? Mummy's home now and she has a gift!"

Tenten extracts a decorative egg cup with 'SPELL-BINDEGG' printed in bold over the surface and situates it in the corner of Eggbert's room.

Neji joins her and smiles down at his child. "They grow up so fast. An hour ago Eggbert rolled over."

She gasps in delight before letting her face fall. "I've been meaning to ask," Neji turns around and quirks up an eyebrow. "Don't you think I should get some home-time with Eggbert now? You've already had your two weeks and I am the mother of our child."

Neji gawks at once. "But-what will I do in my spare time? This is just cruel."

"You'll still get to see Eggbert every second day and on weekends - it's not like I'm taking it from you forever."

Neji gives Eggbert a pained look and says, "I'm sorry this is the way things have turned out, son. But understand that your mother and I love you very much. It's just best for you to know what it's like to have a mother before you come back and live with me forever."

Tenten turns to him, aghast. "Forever? What happened to equal coparenting? I'm family too! I deserve to be with my baby and if you won't accept that then I demand full custody. In fact," she grabs Eggbert and the cup and seizes her bag from the ground. "Good luck seeing my baby again."

It's a little dramatic, even for her tastes, but it's her baby. She can't help it if eggs bring out the drama queen inside of her.

"Are you going to keep ignoring me?"

Tenten sniffs, like Neji sitting next to her like he always does in class these days is the beginning of the apocalyse. Eggbert is sitting on her side of the table for the in-class examination of egg-health.

"We have to make up someday. Eggbert needs both his parents. I'm sorry I tried to take you out of the picture, but I've thought about it and I think we can come to a compromise."

She turns to him with a slight smile. "You mean it? You don't think I'm a horrible parent anymore?"

"No," Neji shakes his head encouragingly, "I think we both have our strengths and weaknesses. It's up to us to give Eggbert the family it deserves."

Mr Hatake walks in twenty minutes late with his briefcase, and Tenten sniffles and slides Eggbert to the middle of their table. "Okay."

"I don't want to see Eggbert go," Neji whines when the alotted month is up. Tenten's sniffing beside him as they walk up the steps into their classroom. "You think you know a person but they're really just an inhumane teacher trying to steal our babies away from us."

They reach the door to the classroom, where they're greeted by Lee's strange green egg, Naruto and Sasuke's predictably smashed egg yolk and Sakura and Ino's bowtied egg, and Neji makes a strange hissing sound.

"My precious," he clutches Eggbert to his chest and glares at Mr Hatake, who's not late for once and rolling his eyes at them humourlessly. "You will not take my baby from me."

"It was never yours to begin with," their teacher calls out flatly, because yes, chickens lay eggs.

Churlishly, Tenten stomps to her desk and shouts, "You're never yours to begin with," Neji in tow with Eggbert still held tight against his chest. They take their designated seats at the front and glare up at the teacher in silent protest.

Mr Hatake ignores their passive aggressive intervention and drawls out the names of partnered groups to walk up to the front for presentations. Predictably, as Kakashi always calls people at the top of the roll, she and Neji are called up first. They make a show of whipping out her custom made shuriken USB drives when they go up, terror-inducing glares still glued onto their faces and aimed at Naruto, who's suddenly confused as Hell.

"It is time," Neji starts when their very detailed slides finally pop up on the screen, "to ask yourselves a question. Who are you?"

There's a groan at the back of the classroom that Tenten silences with Kakashi's blue whiteboard marker. Neji continues. "I am Neji Hyuga."

"And I am Tenten."

"Today we bring to you not a presentation, but an expression of our souls. Our time together with Eggbert von Hyugastein has taught us many valuable lessons." There's a slight cough when Eggbert's name is brought up.

"Humility," Tenten quips, slamming her closed fist into an open palm as each new word is accompanied by a different picture of Eggbert wearing different costumes, "Patience. Creativity. Respect. Cooperation. Bonding. Compromise." She shoots a megawatt smile at Neji that he doesn't have enough time to properly absorb but responds to with gusto nevertheless.

"We found ourselves struggling to juggle work with family, fun with stress, and sternness with flexibility - but in the end, we pulled through and learned the true meaning of parentage. And that is, responsibility."

Neji retakes the helm and places Eggbert on the front desk. Their PowerPoint presentation lands on the final picture - one of Neji and a Tenten smiling down at their baby. "After a month with Eggbert, I can safely say that if anything happens to my baby I will make everyone's lives a living Hell." She beams proudly at how he maintains his classic straight-faced, no-nonsense face. The classroom remains deafeningly silent. "Many times, I have considered electrocution, but apparently that's illegal when performed deliberately."

"Apparently," Tenten reinforces with a dagger-like glare at the audience.

"And now I ask you all - who are we? We are parents," the slides move alongside Neji's words. "Parents who love, hate and sacrifice for their children. I think I can vouch for everyone here that they would devote their lives to their children. Except you, Lee. You'll chase them away with green spandex."

"Hear hear!" Lee cheers from the back, causing several others to join in with the standing ovation. Neji and Tenten bow at the front with ear-splitting grins on their faces before walking back to their desks triumphantly. The whooping does down as Mr Hatake heads to the front of the classroom, mildly dazed.

"Thank you, Neji and Tenten, for that shining pearl of wisdom. You truly...outdid yourselves," he allows a brief silence to commemorate his words, "Now, who would like to go next?"

The classroom immediately shrinks back, leaving Lee to stand up from his desk exuberantly and march to the front with lines of determination on his face. "Me! Me!"

"You know, we don't have to hang out after school anymore." Tenten swings her backpack around her shoulder and smiles at Neji, who's standing beside her expectantly. They'd received an A, of course, though Neji's been whining about the lack of a '+' and Mr Hatake's lack of a spine, apparently, for not being able to stomach empty threats. She's just glad that they scored so high, really, and that they got to keep their egg.

"True, but I've been meaning to say something."

He waits for her to finish rifling through the rest of her papers and look up at him before continuing. "I think you're great."

"Oh. Thanks!" She replies brightly, pretending that Neji Hyuga overtly displaying his thoughts isn't throwing her off a ledge at all.

"I mean," he seems to retract a few mental steps, a little deflated at her reaction, "If you ever need anything, like lunch at The Golden Flower, or a movie partner, or perhaps-"

"Hold up," she stops him, her palm pressed directly over his sternum. He flushes a little at the contact but clamps his jaws together regardless. "What are you trying to say?"

"Date," he blurts out, face reddening, "Would you like to go on a date some time?"

"Sure. How about this Friday?" Grinning, Tenten lets go of her hold over his chest and skips a little when they exit the classroom. Neji positively beams.

"That sounds perfect."

#nejiten #nejiten month #nejitenmonth #egg-sitting trope #high school #AU #neji hyuga #tenten #rock lee #naruto #fanfiction #fanfic

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john-laurens · 8 years ago

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As a sort of follow-up to this post, I decided to put together a list of every time that Hamilton or Laurens mentioned the other. There were two categories of quotations I compiled:

Hamilton or Laurens mentioning the other in their piece of writing

Records of meetings which note that Hamilton or Laurens spoke of the other

Again, these are all the instances I have come across or could recall when I made the list - if you can think of any more, feel free to add them!

“Col. Hamilton who was sent to the Northern Army to explain the necessity for Reinforcements from thence, lies dangerously ill on the Road_” - John Laurens to Henry Laurens, December 3, 1777

“two of our Gentlemen (*Cols. Harrison & Hamilton) are appointed Commissioners to meet General Howe at German Town, for negociating the exchange of prisoners_ their absence will render the presence of the rest more than ever necessary_” - John Laurens to Henry Laurens, March 25, 1778

“Col Hamilton in the absence of Mr Boudinot goes to hear Mr Lorings Propositions relative to the exchange of Prisoners; it is probable that Mr Clinton wishes to disburthen himself of such as he has at Philadelphia_ to save the trouble of transporting them_” - John Laurens to Henry Laurens, June 4, 1778

“I have seen the General much embarrassed this day, on the subject of those who distinguished themselves in the battle of Monmouth_ to name a few and be silent with regard to many of equal merit wd be an injustice to the latter_ to pass the whole over unnoticed wd be an unpardonable slight_ indiscriminate praise of the whole wd be an unfair distribution of rewards_ and yet when men generally conducted themselves so well as our officers did_ this method is Allowable, and is eligible because least liable to give offence_ The Merit of restoring the day is due to the General, and his conduct was such throughout the affair as has greatly increased my Love & esteem for him_ my three brother aids [John Fitzgerald, Alexander Hamilton, and Richard Kidder Meade] gained themselves great applause by their activity and bravery_ even the three Secretaries acted as military men on this occasion, and proved themselves as worthy to wield the sword as the pen_” - John Laurens to Henry Laurens, July 2, 1778

“What part our family acted let others say. I hope you will not suspect me of vanity when I tell you that one of them Fitsgerald, had a slight contusion with a Musket ball, another, Laurens, had a slight contusion also—and his horse killed—a third, Hamilton, had his horse wounded in the first part of the action with a musket ball.” - Alexander Hamilton to Elias Boudinot, July 5, 1778

“I am sure it will give you pleasure to have heard, that our friend Greene did ample justice to himself on this expedition; and that Laurens was as conspicuous as usual.” - Alexander Hamilton to Elias Boudinot, September 8, 1778

Narrative of an Affair of Honor between General Lee and Col Laurens - Alexander Hamilton, December 24, 1778

“Major Tallmadge is in such a hurry that he will not allow me time to write to Capt. McQueen_ be so good as to excuse me to him. Col. Hamilton &c desire their respects_ He has half resolved to accom go to So Carolina_” - John Laurens to Henry Laurens, March 6, 1779

“Col Laurens, who will have the honor of delivering you this letter, is on his way to South Carolina, on a project, which I think, in the present situation of affairs there, is a very good one and deserves every kind of support and encouragement. This is to raise two three or four batalions of negroes; with the assistance of the government of that state, by contributions from the owners in proportion to the number they possess. If you should think proper to enter upon the subject with him, he will give you a detail of his plan. He wishes to have it recommended by Congress to the state; and, as an inducement, that they would engage to take those batalions into Continental pay. It appears to me, that an expedient of this kind, in the present state of Southern affairs, is the most rational, that can be adopted, and promises very important advantages. Indeed, I hardly see how a sufficient force can be collected in that quarter without it; and the enemy’s operations there are growing infinitely serious and formidable. I have not the least doubt, that the negroes will make very excellent soldiers, with proper management; and I will venture to pronounce, that they cannot be put in better hands than those of Mr. Laurens. He has all the zeal, intelligence, enterprise, and every other qualification requisite to succeed in such an undertaking.” - Alexander Hamilton to John Jay, March 14, 1779

“Col. Hamilton informed me that Col. Gibson had mentioned to him that he and Col Parke were concerned in the publications in favor of Mr Deane_” - John Laurens to Henry Laurens, April 1779 (more context here)

“I omitted informing you that a couple of horses which I received here from Col Abeel on my way to the French fleet were on my return delivered at this place to Lt Col Laurens and he took them to Philadelphia.” - Alexander Hamilton to Nathanael Greene, January 22, 1780

“I have received a letter from my Laurens solicitg an interview on the Pensylvania Boundary. The General has half consented to its taking place. I hope to be permitted to meet him; if so, I will go to Philadelphia and then you may depend, I shall not forget the picture you requested.” - Alexander Hamilton to Elizabeth Schuyler, July 2-4, 1780

“Two days since I wrote to you my dear girl and sent the letter to the care of Colonel Morris: there was with it a bundle to your mamma, directed to your father, containing a cloak which Miss Livingston sent to my care. I enclosed you in that letter, the copy of a long one to my friend Laurens with an account of Arnold’s affair. I mention this for fear of a miscarriage as usual.” - Alexander Hamilton to Elizabeth Schuyler, October 13, 1780

“I expect in a few days to go to Philadelphia for a day or two. I shall there see my friend [Laurens] and make him participate in my good fortune by giving him a picture of my mistress.” - Alexander Hamilton to Elizabeth Schuyler, October 27, 1780

“Your Excellency will be not a little surprised to learn that Congress have determined to send me to France for the special purpose of representing the present state of our affairs, and solliciting the necessary succours—I was in great hopes that Congress would have availed themselves of the abilities of Colonel Hamilton for these important objects—and that I should have been suffered to persevere in a line of duty, to which I feel myself more adequate—but unfortunately for America, Col. Hamilton was not sufficiently known to Congress to unite their suffrages in his favor and I was assured that there remained no other alternative to my acceptance than the total failure of the business.” - John Laurens to George Washington, December 23, 1780

“I must trouble Your Excellency to present my Respects to Mrs Washington—my love to the Marquis de la fayette Col. Hamilton and the rest of the family.” - John Laurens to George Washington, April 11, 1781

“Agreeable to your orders we advanced in two columns with unloaded arms, the right composed of Lt. Col Gimat’s batalion and my own commanded by Major Fish, the left of a detachment commanded by Lt Col Laurens, destined to take the enemy in reverse, and intercept their retreat. The column on the right was preceded by a van guard of twenty men let by Lt. Mansfield, and a detachment of sappers and miners, commanded by Capt Gilliland for the purpose of removing obstructions. [...] The rapidity and immediate success of the assault are the best comment on the behaviour of the troops. Lt Col Laurens distinguished himself by an exact and vigorous execution of his part of the plan, by entering the enemy’s work with his corps among the foremost, and making prisoner the commanding officer of the redoubt.” - Alexander Hamilton to the Marquis de Lafayette, October 15, 1781

Laurens's detachment at Yorktown is mentioned in an enclosure - Alexander Hamilton to the Marquis de Lafayette, October 15, 1781

“I feel the deepest affliction at the news we have just received of the loss of our dear and inestimable friend Laurens. His career of virtue is at an end. How strangely are human affairs conducted, that so many excellent qualities could not ensure a more happy fate? The world will feel the loss of a man who has left few like him behind, and America of a citizen whose heart realized that patriotism of which others only talk. I feel the loss of a friend I truly and most tenderly loved, and one of a very small number.” - Alexander Hamilton to Nathanael Greene, October 12, 1782

“Poor Laurens; he has fallen a sacrifice to his ardor in a trifling skirmish in South Carolina. You know how truly I loved him and will judge how much I regret him.” - Alexander Hamilton to the Marquis de Lafayette, November 3, 1782

“Col: Hamilton who warmly & cogently espoused the ratification, as an additional argument mentioned, that some intimations had been given by Col: Laurens of the army with the privity of Genl. Washington, to Cornwallis previous to his capitulation, that he might be exchanged for his father, then in the Tower.” - Continental Congress, Remarks on the Exchange of Charles, Earl Cornwallis, November 25, 1782

Laurens is mentioned in a list of names - Alexander Hamilton to Francisco de Miranda, November 23, 1784

#Alexander Hamilton #John Laurens #Henry Laurens #Marquis de Lafayette #Elias Boudinot #Francisco de Miranda #Nathanael Greene #George Washington #Elizabeth Hamilton #John Jay #Charles Lee

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mndoughboy1918 · 7 years ago

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Pershing, the British, the French, and an Amazing History Lesson

May 22, 1918 - Full diary entry:

“Went to gas mask and rifle drill today. The RIR men instruct us.

The French people put up with this bunch patiently. Their lives are hardly their own.”

“RIR” was the Royal Irish Regiment, part of the British Army 30th Division as mentioned by Robert a few days ago.

The details of how American troops came to be trained by and embedded in British Army units is fascinating. Meeting summaries, memos, telegrams and letters written by both governments are captured in United States Army in the World War, 1917-1919, vol. 3: Training and Use of American Units with the British and French. All quoted material (in italics) below is from this book.

Throughout 1917 and into 1918, the British and French governments were terrified that their available manpower would be insufficient to hold back the German advance. Both countries requested help from the Americans, who had not yet sent large quantities of men to fight. Specifically, both countries wanted battalions or companies of American soldiers to be brought over, trained, and made part of the British or French armies.

On December 2, 1917, the British Prime Minister David Lloyd George approved a proposal by the Chief of the Imperial General Staff William Robertson to request assistance from the American military. George commented:

We shall be hard-pressed to hold our own and keep Italy standing during 1918. Our manpower is pretty well exhausted. We can only call up men of 45-50 and boys of 17. France is done. The American soldiers will not be ready to fight as an army until late in 1918. Our experience proves that meanwhile we must keep the fight going. Even half-trained American companies or battalions would fight well if mixed with two or three years' veterans. Beg House to consider this favorably.

“House” was “Colonel” Edward House - he was a colonel in nickname only - President Wilson’s closest confidant during the war. The British felt convincing House was their best approach to convince Wilson.

On December 16, 1917, Colonel Fox Conner of the AEF recommended to the Chief of Staff that the British proposal be rejected:

1. In May it was decided that our land forces should be more immediately associated with the French than with the British.

2. The relations between the French and British have for a long time left much to be desired. Both are jealous of our immediate cooperation.

3. We are operating on French soil and due to our long oversea communications are far more dependent upon good understanding with the French than are the British.

4. To place our troops with the British means straining our relations with the French to the breaking point. Practically, we could only put such elements as come through England with the British. An attempt to bring units through our base ports and distribute such troops on the British front would be met with the various difficulties and obstacles which the French are such masters in politely presenting when they care to do so.

A summary of the negotiations as of December 23 reiterated some of the concerns on the American side (some of which seem really surprising 100 years later):

The various objections to this were carefully considered, being principally the probable resulting dissatisfaction with the French; the fact that the training would be British and not American; that if an emergency called for the sudden employment of our troops they would stand to be widely scattered, part going in near the British and part farther to the east, their identity as an American force thus being lost.

By January 9, General Pershing and British Chief of Staff Robertson were discussing details of using British ships and ports to transport American troops, and the British again raised the question of bringing over battalions to be incorporated with the British brigades. General Pershing raised the issues that would be caused by breaking up the American divisions, but also mentioned that he would be having a similar discussion later that afternoon with the French. Robertson pointed out the difficulties that would arise from the French and English languages.

The British were so desperate for help that they discussed taking ships that were currently transporting food and materials and using them to transport the American troops - a huge risk. If the Americans insisted on keeping their divisions together, the movement of forces would take too long. They could only offer the ships with the agreement that American troops could be moved in smaller battalions.

In a summary of these meetings on January 10, Robertson was very clear about how dire the situation had become:

It is obvious that Germany may be expected to strive her utmost, if not to win outright, to place herself in a winning position during the next 7 or 8 months. Russia's defection enables her greatly to strengthen her forces on the west or Italian front or both, and for the last three months German divisions have been coming over as quickly as they can be transported. Italy is still weak and will probably continue to require British and French assistance. The manpower of France is rapidly diminishing. The British divisions are being reduced from 12 to 9 battalions because of the shortage of men and it will be difficult for us to maintain at strength even 9 battalion divisions throughout the year. There are already twelve more German divisions on the west front than a year ago; there are 11 fewer British and French divisions (gone to Italy), making a net gain to Germany of 39 divisions; she can easily bring over 40 more divisions by May, as well as a large number of heavy guns; and as shown above, the British divisions will in future have 25% less infantry in them than in 1917. The situation is, therefore, becoming very serious and it is with considerable anxiety that the British and French authorities look forward to the summer, because even if we hold up the German attacks, as we hope to do, our divisions may become so attenuated and exhausted in the process as to be fit for little employment afterwards. In other words, if France and England do not receive substantial American military assistance before the summer, the assistance America is now preparing may come too late to admit of the Entente securing the kind of peace for which they are fighting.

Coming out of the January 9-10 meetings, Robertson was not optimistic. He wrote to the British War Cabinet on January 12:

The War Cabinet will wish to know the result of my interview with General Pershing. Apparently he had never seriously considered the proposal sent to Colonel House by the Prime Minister, although Colonel House had shown him the memorandum on the subject. The fact is, he does not like the proposal because (a) he is anxious to bring over his divisions as such: (b) he naturally prefers to preserve national identity and argues, quite rightly, that American battalions cannot be expected to do as well in British as in American divisions. The result of the interview was that he will forward our proposal to his Government, giving it a mild form of support and telegraphing me a copy of the communication he sends...

I have never been very sanguine as to American assistance in any form this year, and I must tell the War Cabinet that I have returned still less sanguine. The raising of new armies is a tremendous task for any country, and although one might expect that America, with her two previous experiences, and her supposed great business and hustling qualities, would do better than other countries, the fact is she is doing very badly. She had, of course, very little to work upon in the way of cadets and officers; she has never made any real study of war organization; and there is no adequate decentralization. The French have lost all patience and their relations with the Americans are the reverse of good. The French are always much too optimistic in such matters, but they may well be excused for being dissatisfied in the present case. The Americans are proceeding as if they had years in which to prepare...

General Pershing is looking older and rather tired, and I doubt if he yet has an intelligent and considered view of the nature of his task, or how to set about it. My general impression is that America's power to help us to win the war - that is, to help us to defeat the Germans in battle - is a very weak reed to lean upon at present, and will continue to be so for a very long time to come unless she follows up her words with actions much more practical and energetic than any she has yet taken.

Fortunately, General Pershing seems to have been more convinced by the British arguments than it appeared. He wrote to the Secretary of War Newton Baker on January 13:

Held conference in PARIS on tenth January with General Robertson on subject of providing additional men for British divisions. He presents request from British Government that American battalions be sent over for service with British divisions. This memorandum is practically the same as that submitted to General Bliss.

This whole question seems to me to be one of necessity, and we must consider the probability of strong German attacks in early spring and summer.

Have had a full and frank discussion of this question with the French as far as any such plan relates to them. And have stated that, in my opinion, generally speaking it would be a dangerous experiment on account of differences in language to put our regiments into French divisions for active work. They apparently hold the same view. M. Clemenceau gave his entire approval of the plan of our aiding the British as above set forth. General Petain also gave it his approval.

I would, therefore, recommend (1) that this request of the British Government be given serious consideration from the point of view of our national attitude regarding service in another army; (2) that it be regarded as a temporary measure to meet a probable emergency; (3) that as soon as possible the remaining troops of divisions thus temporarily broken up be brought over and the divisions reorganized; (4) that division, brigade and regimental commanders and their staffs be sent over with their infantry for training with corresponding British units; (5) that the infantry be taken from those divisions that would not otherwise be transported until after June.

Following this, on January 21 Secretary of War Baker directed the US Army Chief of Staff Tasker Bliss to move forward:

This project has the approval of Pershing and the French General Staff. You are authorized to make necessary arrangements with the British to carry the plan into execution. I infer from cablegram received from Pershing today that he is in PARIS. Please discuss the matter with him before acting.

Pershing, however, cast some doubt in a letter to Bliss that same day:

I think we should be very guarded in making any concessions to the British with reference to providing troops for them, and I trust that any final conclusion in the matter may be deferred until we can discuss the entire question here in Paris after your arrival.

And then the agreement seemed to fall apart. Pershing met with French Marshal Joseph Joffre on January 26. Joffre had previously led the French Army, but had been removed and placed in a largely ceremonial role in 1916. It appears the Marshal intended to sabotage the British and American agreement:

[Joffre] stated that the condition of the British was not so good, and that they were confronted with the necessity of very soon reducing the number of battalions in their divisions from 12 to 9.

Without further comment the Marshal then remarked on the British proposition to bring over 150 American battalions (of which he seem thoroughly informed), that it was on these American battalions that the British relied to relieve them from the necessity of reducing their divisions from 12 to 9 battalions each. He then stated that, as a friend of General Pershing. he wished to express his views as to the matter of incorporating American battalions in British divisions. First, he said, there would be an adverse effect in the division itself. American battalions would find themselves commanded by a British general with a British staff. They would resent orders received under such circumstances which they would accept without question under an American commander. In case of a reverse there would at once be the tendency to assess the blame to the command.

Further, in case of an attack, American infantry would be supported by British artillery. He did not believe it possible that there could exist between them that perfect confidence and liaison that was absolutely necessary and would exist between American infantry supported by American artillery. As indicative that it was not a policy indicated by good practice and organization, the Marshal pointed out that during the whole course of the war the British have never found it advisable to incorporate in the same divisions Canadians, Australians, New Zealanders, Indians, Portuguese, or even Scotch with English. They have never mixed them in the same division. There must also be considered the effect on the American people at home; on their interest in and support of the war, which he seemed to think would be adversely affected by amalgamating American battalions with British divisions.

The next day, Bliss wrote back to the Secretary of War:

Your [cable] stated that General Pershing had approved the project of 150 of our Infantry battalions to serve temporarily with the British but directed me to confer with him before making final arrangements to carry project into effect. General Pershing states that he has never approved this project and in conference with British Chief of Staff, General Robertson, and myself, he insisted that British should bring over 6 of our complete divisions instead of the 150 battalions. This would give British 72 battalions instead of the 150 which they want. General Robertson telegraphed General Pershing's proposition to Mr. Lloyd George and he has replied tonight asking for an interview with General Pershing and myself at Versailles January 29.

The meeting on January 29, which included Pershing, Bliss, Robertson, and the Prime Minister, was heated:

Mr. Lloyd George asked what the position was as to the proposed incorporation of American battalions in British brigades.

General Pershing stated that the question was for the moment in abeyance awaiting the action of the British Government on the receipt of General Robertson's dispatch.

General Robertson explained that General Pershing, contrary to their understanding, had not approved the plan from the first, and had not intended that the administration at Washington should believe he did. He had felt very strongly the sentimental and national consideration involved in the proposal. His latest proposal was that not merely the infantry divisions should be brought over, but the rest of the fighting troops in those divisions as well. In this case there would be only sufficient transport for 72 battalions instead of the 150 which they had hoped for. The question therefore arose as to whether it was worthwhile for them to carry out the transaction in view of the shipping sacrifices involved.

The prime minister read the cable General Bliss had received in London and stated that this meant that Washington agreed to the proposition.

General Bliss said that the question had now got into an inexplicable confusion; that the cable from Washington expressed no approval of the proposition, but rather submitted it to General Pershing who does not approve. He, himself, after reading all the telegrams on the subject. was unable to understand how Washington had come to the conclusion that General Pershing had approved the recent project for the 150 battalions; that General Pershing had recommended it for serious consideration, and had called attention to objections in connection with the proposition.

Mr. Lloyd George said that the British Government had understood from General Pershing's telegram to the British that he approved the proposal for the bringing of 150 battalions for incorporation in British brigades.

General Pershing stated that this telegram was sent to outline conditions which the British would have to fulfill before he could submit the proposition to Washington recommending serious consideration, and that he had never stated any approval of it and had never so gone on record.

Mr. Lloyd George said that the British Government had taken the words "serious consideration" to be tantamount to approval.

General Pershing stated that this was not the case; that he had only submitted it for consideration and that his telegram referred to the political considerations involved and the moral effect; in a subsequent telegram he had laid great stress on the importance of keeping the American troops under the command of their own officers.

General Robertson pointed out that Washington, in its reply, had not mentioned the political difficulties and had only pointed out the shipping difficulty and he had thought that the government had no objections to the proposition.

General Pershing remarked that General Bliss had just pointed out that this was not the case.

Mr. Lloyd George said he gathered that the question was now left to General Pershing to decide.

General Pershing said he thought Washington wanted a straight recommendation from him.

It goes on like this for many, many pages. At one point they discuss the feasibility of combining troops from different countries and Pershing throws in a gibe from his earlier conversation with the French:

General Pershing remarked that even the Canadians had not amalgamated with the British.

Sir William Robertson stated that there had been no call for this.

Shortly thereafter, another indication that Marshal Joffe’s comments had had a strong impact on Pershing’s thinking:

In reply to a remark by Sir Douglas Haig, General Pershing stated that Sir Douglas implies that we are to continue supplying the British army with recruits. He asked where this proposition is supposed to stop. In his opinion, it should stop now, and we should bend all our efforts toward building up an American army.

Field Marshal Haig said that he had always understood the scheme to be a stepping stone towards training and turning out American divisions more rapidly.

General Pershing said that, in this case, he thought he and the field marshal were in entire agreement. He was quite willing to train troops in the British army. and had actually telegraphed this as a recommendation. He understood, however, that General Robertson wanted to feed American troops into the British line as a more or less permanent arrangement.

Mr. Lloyd George said that the British War Cabinet had never understood this.

Field Marshal Haig said that he had quite understood that the scheme was intended for training American troops.

General Pershing said he had understood that General Robertson wanted American battalions put into the British divisions in order to fill up the depleted British battalions.

Lord Milner said that he understood that the proposal was to use the battalions in the British divisions, in order to form United States divisions more rapidly. As he understood the matter, General Pershing would get his divisions formed more rapidly by passing them through the British line than by confining his training to the American camps.

General Robertson then read out the conditions which had been agreed on as the basis for the incorporation of the American battalions in British divisions.

General Pershing said that he had not himself laid down these conditions, but had merely stated them as General Robertson's proposals. He said he wished to make a clear distinction between placing battalions with the British for training and for service. He agreed that fighting is the best training that troops can have. He wanted, however, to make it clear that the American battalions were not coming to stay in British divisions, but merely to train until they were ready for incorporation in a division of their own.

Mr. Lloyd George asked if they proposed to take the battalions out of the line before the fighting was over.

General Pershing replied in the affirmative. He wished to be free to take them over when they were sufficiently trained to be united into American divisions.

Mr. Lloyd George asked if he would be prepared to put in more American battalions to replace those taken away.

General Pershing asked where they were to come from. If he did so it would interfere with his scheme for organizing an American army. He insisted that whatever might be done in carrying out this scheme must be a perfectly separate and independent scheme from the formation of the American army.

So much going on here, but after originally getting the impression that Pershing was being wishy-washy about this, I now get the sense that he was right to be suspicious. It really does seem that the British were looking at American troops as a source of manpower to bolster their own army, not just offering to provide training.

On January 30, the British agreed to Pershing’s proposal to bring over six complete divisions, totaling 150,000 men, instead of 150 infantry battalions. The men would be transported at a rate of 12,000 per month. The logistics involved, including land and sea transportation, supplies and equipment, medical arrangements, training plans, etc., were staggering and negotiations on these areas continued throughout February and March. Cables and letters from the British to the US Army and government, urging the Americans to send men as quickly as possible, continued into April.

This has been by far my longest post and if you have read this far, you have my gratitude. I’m fascinated by this account (and the drama continues long after I stopped my report) and am very thankful to have found it today.

Next: Training

#wwi #ww1 #ww1 centenary #pershing #world war one #world war 1 #140th Infantry #35th Division #AEF #doughboy #diary

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