It’s around 6 when Nikolai gets back to his cabin from hunting, setting his boots down by the front door and calling out to his husband, John, who was in the living room watching TV.
Getting no response, Nik just chuckles and sheds his coat before walking into the living room and bending over the couch to kiss the side John’s temple, cold skin meeting his lips.
“You are freezing my love.” He says softly, grabbing a blanket and draping it over his chest. “It is below thirty degrees. You should wrap up.”
Still getting no response, Nik just huffs softly before going to shower and changing into something more comfortable, stopping by the kitchen on his way back to the living room to grab some tea for the two of them.
“Your favorite.” He says quietly, setting the mug down in John’s stiff hands and settling beside him. “Do not drink too fast, it is fresh from kettle.”
Still, no response.
Nik glances at his husband with a soft expression, noticing the bags under his eyes and the slight sluggishness to his posture.
“You are sleepy.” He says, and John’s body slumps over onto Nik’s, causing him to laugh. “You need rest dear.”
Just as he said that, John’s phone lit up even more missed calls and unread messages from his team, Laswell, and MacMillan, to which Nik just frowned and turned it over, muttering something about how they ‘always interrupt them’ and how they should ‘leave them alone’.
Soon, Nik gets sleepy too and rests his head atop John’s, not minding the sticky wet feeling on his cheek as he wrapped a big arm around his husband’s back, pulling him closer to his chest.
“Sleep well my love.” He muttered, pressing a kiss to John’s cold forehead before turning off the missing person’s report on the TV and going to sleep.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Warnings: smidge of smut ;)), underage drinking (they are 18)
Summary: Negan and Cassidy are in college. Negan is the football player, he is feared by most. Cassidy is the outgoing, snarky, popular girl and everyone loves her. What happens when a friendly game of spin the bottle is initiated?
“Were you invited?” My friend Alexis asked me. Nodding I laughed sarcastically, “Of course I was invited. Those bitches know better than that.” She crossed her arms and smirked, “Of course, Cass. The party would suck if you weren’t there.” She explained. “Ya know who I heard was going?” I turned to her, suddenly interested.
“Negan.” she quietly revealed to me.
I gasped softly with a look of confusion and surprise evident on my face. “Seriously? Who had the balls to invite him to a social event.” I chuckled. Negan was the star quarterback. He was an asshole to everyone, even teachers feared him. He was the epitome of a bad boy, motorcycle and all. People didn’t tend to invite him to things and if he was, he’d be a no show.
Hearing that he was going to this party must have been a shock to everyone because it was now the subject of the day. Everytime I turned my back I could hear his name leave people’s mouths. Making my way to my locker I looked down to check my phone. Not paying attention to what I was doing, I ran into a tall stranger. “Fuck!” I exclaimed, dropping my books on the floor. I looked up, getting ready to beat the fuck out of whoever rammed into me.
It was him. A white t-shirt, and a black leather jacket with a red scarf peeking over it. No words left my mouth, we looked at each other for a minute. Erasing all the thoughts from I head, I stumbled to pick up my stuff. Trying to escape the situation as fast as humanly fucking possible.
I managed to get away, speed walking to the opposite side of the long narrow hallway. Turning to see if he had followed me, I noticed my coast was clear. Exhaling a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding in. I calmly walked into my next class. Eager to get home and get ready.
When I got home it was around 4. Perfect. Walking into my personal bathroom I took a quick shower, making sure to wash my hair more than usual. I stepped out, immediately missing the feel of the warm water rushing down my body. Walking to my room, I went to my closet and grabbed the dress I bought. The dress was short, but not slutty. The deep maroon color complimenting my skin color perfectly. I loved it from the second I saw it, and now was the perfect time to showcase it.
Sitting down at the vanity in my room I started my makeup, opting for dark eyes and a red lip. I usually didn’t get this dolled up for a stupid party, but I wanted to let loose tonight. I curled my hair in loose beach waves, keeping it down. I finally finished 3 hours later, walking to the full length mirror I smiled. It was a special moment when I could just relax and have fun. I stared at myself up and down one more time. Deciding it was perfect I sprayed my favorite perfume on and walked out of the house. I got into my car, and drove to the party.
By the time I got there, people were already drunk and dancing. I laughed, immediately seeing my friends and walking to them. “Holy shit,” I yelled over the loud music, “This place is fucking packed!” They all smiled and laughed. Looking in the corner I saw Negan, sitting back. A beer resting in his hand. A group of girls crowding by him, all trying to get his attention. I rolled my eyes, grabbing a drink and tossing it back, savoring the burning sensation of the liquid rushing down my throat.
I must have done that about 6 times, feeling the affects of the strong alcohol. My head spinning slightly. Someone from the crowd yelled, “LET’S PLAY SPIN THE BOTTLE!!”, we all cheered. Somehow, we all managed to sit in what was supposed to be a circle. Negan stood up, making everyone look up at him as they made room for him to sit. I could feel the alcohol taking its effect, as I admired his facial structure. His dark demeanor intimidating everyone. For the first time tonight, he spoke with his eyes on me.
“So, who’s first fuckers?” His deep, gravelly voice rang in my ear.
A bunch of girls threw their hands up, wanting to get a chance to kiss him. Overtime, Negan hadn’t been kissed once, my situation was the same. I preferred it that way. Then one of the kids in my class span the bottle, the tip of it landing on me. Rolling my eyes, I laughed fakely as he beckoned me over. I held up my middle finger to him. My action making him sigh and make his way over to me, pressing his chapped lips to my red ones I pulled away as quickly as I could. He smirked, as if he was proud of himself. I wiped my mouth dramatically, pretending to gag. Listening to the laughs that came through at my motion.
My turn. I span the empty bottle, hoping it wouldn’t be someone so awful. I watched as it slowed down, my eyes widening as I looked up and locked eyes with who the point of the bottle had landed on. I was met with Negan’s hazel eyes. I noted that his eyes turned a shade darker when he noticed that it had landed on him. A smirk slow as molasses appeared on his face. I smiled back. He repeated the same beckoning action that the other kid had done, I raised an eyebrow. I stayed there, curious to see what he’d do if I didn’t listen to what he said.
Finally he crawled over to me, grabbing me by my waist roughly. He looked angry before he pressed his velvet lips to mine. His one hand on my ass holding my against him firmly. The other on the nape of my neck, allowing him to choose the direction of the kiss. His rough hands, groping at me. I moaned softly against his lips, he covered my moan with another deep kiss. I brought my hand to his cheek, feeling the rough feeling of his scruff against my soft hands.
He pulled away slowly, he gave me his signature smirk at the look of my flustered appearance. My lipstick was smudged around my face, my hair was in different directions, my face was flushed. He looked the same, my lipstick leaving a stain on his perfect lips, his face a warm color. It felt like we had stayed this way for an eternity, but in reality it had only been a few minutes. Negan grabbed my waist, pulling me over to where he was sitting. Setting me down so I was sitting in his lap, my arms wrapped around his broad shoulders. He looked down at me with lust and what almost looked like love. I looked up at him the same way.
We stayed tangled together until the party ended. When we all left, Negan and I left together...
“And we’ve been together since then..” I finished the story to the young kids in front of me. “Again mommy!! Tell it again!” my daughter begged me. “No, noo. It’s bedtime babygirl.” She let out a dramatic sigh, and I laughed. “Just like your father..” I gave a sweet smile. I heard a knock on the door, turning around I smiled lovingly at the face of my aged husband returning from work. The kids getting up and running over to them, he leaned down and scooped them up.
I strolled over to my beautiful family, pressing a kiss to my husbands lips like I have for the last 20 years.
summary: “those who break the rules are scum, but those who abandon their friends are worse than scum.”
word count: 2,534
part two / part four
Your chakra was muted.
It was the first thing that you were aware of as your consciousness crept through your body. A sensation like pins and needles held the space where your natural sensory reception was supposed to have been, alerting you immediately that you were neither dead nor in Konoha.
Blinking the film from your eyes, you gasped when you tried to sit up. An incredible pain shot through your body, arcing through your nerve endings and making you collapse back into the bed you were in. You were still in your mission pants, but your undershirt was gone, cut away in favor of treating the wounds to your chest and side. Your breast bindings were stained with dried blood and gore, used to help hold down the bandages wound tightly around your body.
A bed – that confirmed you weren’t in Konoha nor dead. You must be a captive of Kiri then, or possibly taken in by a civilian who had come across the battle –
Kakashi.
You choked, a sob forcing its way up your throat. You’d died in Grass Country, in Kakashi’s arms. It hurt to cry, so you held your breath as the tears fell over the sides of your face. The kyoketsu shoge blade, the lightning release, and the kama blades – they had killed you.
At least, you had thought they did.
There was the sudden noise of shuffling and you pushed your emotions away, chest spasming painfully against the bandages bound across your ribcage. The pain told you that you were bound for years of recovery work if you didn’t find a med-nin, but you still tried to sit up again, this time favoring your right side. You knew that you had been stripped of your weapons, and, without chakra and the wounds to your side, you were at a severe disadvantage. When your eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room, you made out the lean frame of something white and humanoid but…
“Hello!”
You jolted backwards and your skull hit the headboard as the white figure emerged from the shadows. The figure’s face was a twisting pattern of what you assumed was skin, the seams of its body running across its chest and down the rest of its body. It was waving at you, head tilted as it approached the foot of the bed.
“What are you?” you demanded. There was nothing in your immediate surroundings that you could see that you could use to defend yourself against whatever this thing was. Actually…there was nothing around you that you could see past the faint light emanating somehow around you.
“Curious about you!” the creature replied cheerily. It had no mouth or eyes except for a hole where a right eye would have been, but it rested its head on the footboard on both of its hands as if it were peering wondrously at you. “You are a very interesting person! Can you tell me about –”
“Guru,” someone interrupted. The voice was deep, male, and the sound had you even more on edge than you had been before. Your fists tightened in the sheets beneath you, mind rapidly trying to form a plan of action.
Throw the sheet; kick for the vitals; find a wall and follow it around until you found an exit.
“Who’s there?” you demanded, pressing your back flat against the headboard. At least if someone came from behind, their attack would be thrown off by the wood momentarily so that you could react. You felt blind, the absence of your chakra grating on you. “I’m not a hostage to be taken,” you snarled when there was no answer.
“And yet here you are,” the voice replied baldly. This one was different – older.
You squinted into the dark, trying to see through the shadows. The white creature – Guru – still gazed at you, almost like an intent watchdog.
Kick the creature; capture it from behind; use it as leverage to get out.
“Show yourselves,” you snapped, eyes flicking back and forth between the directions you’d heard the voices coming from.
There was more shuffling, and then a pulse of pure, unpolluted terror shot through your bloodstream.
“Madara,” you whispered, frozen in the spot.
The legend was on the brink of death, that much you could see. But he was still standing, bent over a cane. The hair that had once been wild and black was grey and thin, hanging limply past his shoulders and down his back. He was looking at you, but you could not see his eyes through his hair.
“She looks sick!” Guru commented. He poked your toes. You could not take your eyes off of Madara.
“How?” you whispered fiercely. “Hashirama-sama – he was supposed to have – he said he –”
“Do not believe the word of Hashirama,” Madara spat out.
You sucked in a sharp breath at the hatred in the Uchiha’s voice. “It’s been sixty years since the Final Valley!” You questioned incredulously, “How are you still alive?”
“Out of spite,” another voice replied gruffly. Your eyes flicked to the spot in the dark where you could just see the robes of the other man beyond the penumbra of light.
Madara’s head tilted in the direction of the voice and then he smirked to himself. “Yes…to put it a simple way.”
You clenched your jaw – Madara was alive. You had to tell Minato-sensei. Now.
“I know that look,” Madara mused, taking a few steps closer. Without your chakra perception, you couldn’t detect him beyond your innate senses, which might have been a good thing considering the stories you had heard of this man’s power. He was alive – he was real.
He suddenly grabbed you by the jaw and you yelped, unable to break out of his grip. Old he may be, weak he certainly was not. You stilled when you felt the unnatural heat of a fire jutsu burning in his fingertips; a silent warning. You relented, heart pounding. He tilted your jaw, angling the side of your face towards him. It was then that you realized he had no eyes.
One of his fingers jabbed at the scratch you’d gotten from a kunai you’d barely dodged while fighting those rouge-nins. “I have lived long enough to know better than to doubt the abilities of fate,” Madara growled, and shoved you back. You grasped at your jaw, glaring at him as you rubbed the burn away with your fingers. He snarled at you, “Prove it.”
You held his irate glare – “Prove what?” you bit back with equal tone.
Madara’s cracked lips spread across his teeth as he growled out his answer. “Prove your Senju blood.”
You did not flinch. “I am not a Senju,” you snapped back. Everything inside of you roiled, exposed and writhing beneath the withering glare of the man in front of you.
“Do not lie!” Madara ordered. His voice echoed and you realized whatever room that you were in was the size of a cavern. “Prove it!”
Your lips pulled back over your teeth as you snarled at him, fear forgone. “No.”
The other man who had you forgotten about attacked you.
Your instincts slipped into taijutsu, pain shooting across your chest as you rolled off of the bed and dodged the fireball jutsu barreling towards your head.
You felt a rib break through the bandages as you continued to duck and avoid the other man’s attacks. Without chakra, you were hopeless in this fight. It was only going to be a matter of time because your strength lagged completely and you collapsed, either from exhaustion or from a jutsu to the face.
The man came around behind you forming the seals to another fire-style jutsu, having moved while the fire blinded your peripheral vision. You threw your arm up, forcing your chakra to respond to you. Awareness spluttered and a tide of raging waters shot out from your feet, slamming into the hot flame. Chakra surged back through your body, and the amount of chakra surrounding you nearly made your legs buckle out beneath you, but you held yourself upright, focusing on the man that was circling you. Behind him, Madara was staring at you. He’d been using his chakra to study you, you realized with a chill. His chakra had been in you.
The second man kicked, fire licking towards you as you slammed the largest water serpent you could muster into him. It wasn’t your best, but it swallowed him easily. If you could drown him, maybe then you could handle Madara in one on one now that your chakra had returned.
The man broke out of your jutsu – a near impossible feat – and you realized that he was wearing a mask in the seconds before his soaking leg went swinging over your head. You struck his stabilizing leg and he crumpled easily. You stood over him, panting, one hand facing in each of the men’s directions, prepared to make more seals if need be.
Guru started to clap. “Yay! Yay! Did you see that Madara, hm? She beat him up!”
“You fight like him too,” the Uchiha said darkly.
“I fight like myself,” you huffed. With your chakra back, you could sense the depth of the damage done to you from the fight with the rouge-nins. Someone – you’d rather it be the man you’d bested and not Madara – had repaired what they could of your lung tissue with rudimentary medical ninjutsu and cleared the blood out of your chest cavity while you’d been unconscious. The flesh around the wound entrances were stitched shut with mediocre ability – even Kakashi could do better – of which a few had torn open while you’d fought the man still on the ground.
“The heir of Tobirama Senju,” Madara leered at you. “It appears you did not inherit his pride.”
You clenched your jaw.
“Looking at you makes me hate him more,” Madara muttered, his hand tightening on the wooden cane he was gripping.
Your glare was filled with hatred. “How do you know who I am?” It was a secret sworn by every member of your family – Senju and Tairi clans alike. The youngest founder of Konoha was your great grandfather, and it was his fierce love for your great grandmother that kept his son, his granddaughter, and you within the shadows of history. As far as anyone knew, you were the daughter of two shinobi parents who were killed during the Third Great Shinobi War. As far as the Hokages knew, only you and Tsunade remained of the primary Senju line.
“You are his spitting image,” Madara muttered, “in both spirit and appearance. Female, this time though.” It was the obvious truth at least – you kept your white hair short and cropped above your shoulders, and did not care to use genjutsu to hide the scarlet hue of your irises. “I wonder whose brother he will murder in this life.”
You were shaking – it was so hard to keep yourself from running into the dark.
“As my great-grandfather’s heir,” you said maliciously, owning up to your identity, “maybe I should finish what he started and kill the last Uchiha still fixed in the warring states period.” It was a weak threat against Madara Uchiha with your body in the state that it was in, but it had the intended effect regardless.
“Brat,” Madara growled. He started forward, the seals to a fire-style jutsu, and you prepared your chakra for the defense.
A sudden thought occurred to you and you pulled –
Your tagged kunai snapped into existence in your hands and you sent it flying for Madara’s chest. There was a flash of white and the creature, Guru, was standing protectively in front of the aged Uchiha, your kunai buried deep in its chest.
“Now, now,” Guru started to say.
You leapt through space-time, yanking the kunai out of the creature’s chest and twisting to bring it down into Madara’s shoulder –
The space where the old clan head had been standing microseconds before was suddenly empty. You hit the hard ground and forced yourself to roll, coming up on your haunches panting.
Guru was yelling for someone – White Zetsu? – and the other man you’d left on the ground was on his feet again, running towards you. That jutsu – the one that had taken Madara away from your attack – that wasn’t the same as your great-grandfather’s jutsu. You moved in an instant, and Madara…he was nowhere that you could see.
You raised the kunai in front of yourself as the man stopped in front of you.
“Let me out of here,” you demanded, reflexively fixing your grip on the kunai.
“No,” the man answered. There was a tinge in his voice.
He met you in hand-to-hand.
Your stiches ripped further as you fell into routine with the man, blocking every punch for every blow he tried to land against you. He avoided your wounds, you noticed, his throws falling short even as you brought a kunai hurtling for his face.
The blade scraped across his mask, leaving a long etch through the carved wood. He wheeled backwards, startled, and you brought your leg up, hitting him across the stomach.
“Tobi!” Guru yelped.
“Tobi?” you repeated, looking up. That was –
The man – Tobi – punched you in the jaw and you stumbled, your legs giving out from under you. You hit the ground and sprawled onto your back, panting. You were bleeding again, your wounds having reopened almost completely.
“Unity,” Tobi said flatly. He did not offer his fingers to you for the exchange.
You swallowed and then jerked your chin out at him. “That’s the gesture of Konoha nin,” you hissed, “not of scum. Keep that word out of your mouth.”
It was like you had electrocuted him – Tobi stiffened instantaneously and you heard him scowl from behind the mask.
“White Zetsu,” Tobi spoke sharply, “tend to her wounds. Now.”
Another figure that you hadn’t noticed emerge from the dark was standing beside Guru. It stepped slightly forward, regarding you with the one yellow eye that it had. The left side of its face was scarred into ripples of white flesh, and it was naked like Guru, except spiking tendrils of the same colored flesh reached out from its waist. The sight of it made you sick to your stomach.
Tobi turned on his heel and walked away, leaving the two white creatures with you. You still held your kunai.
“You won’t defeat us easily,” the one called White Zetsu said, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Come on now, Her, let’s stop the blood.”
“What does it feel like?” Guru questioned, its head tilting again. “We can’t bleed – so what does it feel like to do it?”
You gave both the creatures a long, resentful look. “My name is (Y/N),” you said shortly, “not Her.”
“Tobirama-chan,” Guru compromised and they both reached to pull you off the floor.
You couldn’t fight them off and begrudgingly let them lift you out of your own puddle of blood.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
I just realised something, cain, able and seth were the children of Adam and Eve and cain killed able This gave me a bad gut feeling about cain and able is starfighter...
