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electrasev5nwrites · 8 months

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Ninja Daily: AIC 27

"Thank you all for coming so promptly." The Sandaime seated himself at the end of the table, nearest the door. ANBU filed in to dot the walls and crowd his shoulders. "I'm afraid that we have a lot of news to discuss."

Genma kept his lips pressed shut and his back straight. Maybe no one would notice him if he was very, very still.

'Clan heads, commanders, councilors... This isn't good. Judging by this group, the news is above my paygrade.'

Tenzou looked similarly terrified and out of place. Genma would have saved the other ANBU a seat if he'd known the young man would be attending, but so much for that.

"First off all, we do have one more member." The Sandaime raised a hand, and the door opened once more. "You may have heard rumors. It is time to lay them to rest here, and then with the public. Namikaze-san, if you wouldn't mind?"

Inuzuka leaned back and let out a low whistle. Maybe it was shock, maybe it was commentary on how damn good the man looked. 13 years dead, and he was in his prime.

The long-deceased Hokage gave her a polite nod while he passed to the only unoccupied seat.

Tenzou looked absolutely mortified when he realized he'd wound up next to the Yondaime. He slunk down in his chair. It was hard not to smile at that. On Minato's other side, Jiraiya sat up to his full height and clapped his student on the back.

'I haven't seen Tenzou in months. This is not where I would have expected him to pop up. He doesn't look like wants to be here, either.'

"Hello." The Yondaime paused before he sat. He smiled around the table. "I apologize for the strange situation, but I am glad to be here." He met everyone's eyes one by one in that steady, personal way he had.

He got varying reactions. The councilors were clearly prepared for this introduction, a silent wall of solemn faces. Some of the shinobi who had been informed or involved in vetting Minato offered nods and bows. But Inuzuka Tsume was eyeing him critically, dark eyes clever and sharp. Hyuuga Hiashi was implacable, but probably pissed as anything that he'd been in the dark.

Genma gave up on being still and silent. He waved subtly. Because Kakashi wasn't there to do it, the absentee little bastard, and the Yondaime needed some support..

'He's either on a mission or something has gone wrong. He'd be here if he could, no matter that it would ruin his late streak.'

The last possibility was too dire to linger on for long, even direr than the chance that Kakashi might be dead- the possibility that the Sandaime had chosen not to invite him, because Kakashi would be too loyal to the Yondaime. The chance that the Yondaime might be judged as a traitor for whatever he'd probably done.

"As you know, Orochimaru was successful in reviving the First and Second Hokage for the purpose of fighting me," Sandaime said. "He failed, however, to revive Namikaze-san."

"Namikaze-kun was successfully revived for unknown reasons by the woman later determined to be the Godaime Mizukage." Kotaru raked her milky eyes down the table. "Following preliminary vetting, we are now confident that he is who he appears to be and is not under and compulsion from the Mizukage or other parties." She folded her hands on the tabletop.

Inuzuka let out a barking laugh and shook her head, her skepticism fading to sharp-toothed joy. Tenzou looked like he really needed to breathe in soon, but had forgotten about it in favor of gaping.

Genma mostly felt ill. 'The counselor didn't say that she trusted Namikaze. Nothing about whether he'll take up his old role.'

"On to current affairs." The Sandaime seemed impatient. That really did not bode well. "The breach of security was the entrance of two enemy shinobi, Hoshigaki Kisame, formerly of the Mist, and Uchiha Itachi."

"Dear god." Utatane's fingers fumbled on his glasses. Koharu's expression didn't change but she leaned back and her hands flattened on the tabletop.

Danzo glanced at his peers, expression serene next to their evident surprise. "This is bad news," he observed. "What was their purpose?"

"They attempted to kidnap two genin, including the Kyuubi jinchuuriki. In the process, they attacked jounin Hatake and genin Uchiha." Sarutobi seemed so tired. "The genin, Uzumaki-kun and Haruno-san, have been returned to Konohagakure and released from the hospital. Hatake and Uchiha are stable, but show no signs of recovery from genjutsu."

'That explains why Kakashi isn't here. Is Tenzou his stand-in?'

He glanced over at the ANBU. Tenzou was pale under his tan, but unsurprised. Yeah, he'd already been told. He was probably Hatake's medical contact.

"How were they returned?" Homura was incredulous. "Surely Uchiha Itachi was not outmaneuvered by genin."

The Sandaime turned to look at-

Oh, no.

'That's why he's here. So why am I here?'

Tenzou looked like he might faint at all that attention. He cleared his throat. "I have spent my last mission in Kirigakure determining what relationship we may have with the new leadership." The tone was so diplomatic that he had to be full of shit. "The Mizukage heard about the abduction. I do not know how. Using what I can only assume to have been a space-time ninjutsu or fuinjutsu, she took me and two of her private guards to engage Uchiha and Hoshigaki."

'Holy fuck.'

"She knew before we knew about the intrusion. From Kirigakure," Jiraiya said flatly.

Tenzou nodded.

"And came to Fire Country. In minutes. Before we knew."

Tenzou nodded again, miserable.

Jiraiya tilted his head back and said something to the ceiling that ought not be repeated in polite company.

Utatane ignored him, leaning forward over wrinkled hands. "Are we to understand that the Mizukage, engaged enemies of Konohagakure for no perceived benefit? She allowed the jinchuuriki to return?"

His tone was exactly as incredulous as it ought to be. Any reasonable person would be wondering what the hell was Uzumaki up to, what angle she could possibly have. Genma wished he was wondering. This felt like it was going to go badly, fast.

"She took him back personally," Minato-sama said. His tone was hard to read. He didn't seem surprised, but Genma didn't assume he'd be able to tell. "Along with Haruno-san. They chose to stop at training ground 7 and accompany Kakashi-kun and Uchiha-san to the hospital on their way."

That seemed like an acceptable time to bury his face in his hands.

'Uzumaki is a hard woman to predict. I wish I hadn't pissed her off. I want to understand the way she thinks.'

"The Mizukage chose personally to engage Uchiha Itachi," Tenzou added, because apparently he was going to get all of this over with. The Sandaime seemed too miserable to prod him for more answers. "She killed him."

The table erupted in a din.

The loudest voice was- "Holy shit!" Tsume slapped her hands on the table. "Uchiha Itachi, dead? Uchiha Itachi?"

That was interesting data. Genma turned it over in his head, considering just how the international community might react to news like that. It was a bold move, especially considering how weak Kirigakure had to be. Drawing that much attention was a risky move.

'I was wrong. I didn't piss her off that badly. She'd have killed me if she really wanted to. I don't think she gives a shit about consequences.'

'Still might be a good idea to send an apology. A fruit basket, maybe? And a nice card.'

Tenzou raised his voice to remain audible. "Working together, we drove off Hoshigaki-san. I remained with the Kirigakure shinobi to explain the situation to the border guards who came to investigate the fight." He sat back down and tried to sink under the table, as far as Genma could tell.

"How did she kill Uchiha?" Genma didn't realize the question was coming out of his mouth unless everyone was looking at him. But he didn't regret asking. He'd never really thought someone would manage to kill that monster. Not while he was still in his prime, anyway.

Yamanaka Inoichi nodded agreement. "I saw her fighting the Nidaime. If it had continued, I believe she would have lost the match. From that, I wouldn't have thought it certain that she could kill Uchiha Itachi."

Tenzou made an uncomfortable little sound from the back of his throat. He seemed to decide not to stand up again to answer. "It was faster than I could completely observe. I understand that Uchiha-san activated his Sharingan in preparation to cast a genjutsu. Uzumaki-san drove her hand through his chest in retaliation. She was using her bloodline limit at the time. I do not know if she managed to attack before Uchiha-san managed to use a genjutsu on her, or if she deflected it. The attack she used appeared to be suijutsu of some sort."

An elemental technique that the user drove through the victim's chest at speeds fast enough to counter a sharingan. That was uncomfortably familiar. And very specific. Didn't seem like the kind of thing you just came up with on the spot.

'That's an uncomfortable amount of high-level skills that she didn't feel compelled to use against the Nidaime. Why wouldn't she have used everything she had in her arsenal, if she really was pressed to win?'

"There is one final matter to consider. The Mizukage alleged in my office that her parents were Konohagakure shinobi."

The room fell dead silent. The air had changed.

The Sandaime looked around slowly. The weight of his attention and anger pressed down. "Is this true?" He paused. "Minato-san."

"Yes," the Yondaime agreed easily. He leaned forward and then stood up as though he was answering a question in class. "Aiko is my and Kushina's firstborn. I admit I had hoped for one of them to one day be Hokage, but this is something of a surprise, isn't it?"

'And that explains her benevolence to Naruto- it's familial loyalty.' The conclusion was not satisfying. He just felt tired.

The room erupted. Several people stood up. Homura cried out in outrage that could be heard over gasps and exclamations. For once in his life, Danzo looked like he'd been shocked silly.

Having the confirmation made things real, finally. What the hell had Minato been thinking?

The two Hokage matched stares, neither backing down. In contrast to the Sandaime's grimness, the Yondaime was calm and unbothered. He wasn't surprised. He wasn't ashamed.

'How did he hide this? What possessed him to do it?'

"This is why you recognized her when she revived you," the Sandaime accused steadily. His only answer was a nod. "You withheld critical information."

"I was choosing to evaluate the situation," Minato rebutted. "Surely you can understand a bit of caution at seeing the world of the living for the first time in over a decade." His voice was dryly amused.

Genma felt a shiver walk up his back. He had an unpleasant premonition that they were about to learn more than they really wanted to know.

"There is one additional, crucial piece of information that I have gathered in the weeks I have been here. I saw the first hint of it after being revived and I chose to hold my tongue until I understood where I had found myself." He smiled, miserable and cold. "This is not my Konohagakure. Aiko was not born in this universe. If she had been, she would be 13, Naruto's twin. As far as I can tell, she has found herself in an alternate timeline. When she was ordered to summon me, she rose the Minato that she had personally known. Not the soul of the Minato who lived in this world. He must still rest in the stomach of the death god."

The report was bland, slow. Insane.

"That... matches what the Mizukage claimed." The Sandaime seemed to understand something new. He leaned back slightly, but not in a relaxed manner. "I thought that she was mocking me when she said that Jiraiya might guess what I cannot." There was a hint of a wheeze in his voice.

"I don't know why she's here," Minato admitted. He didn't seem upset about it. "I do know that she specializes in space-time manipulation fuinjutsu. She relies heavily on a modification of my hiraishin. That's why she's faster than you can see, by the way, Yamato-san. I can only assume that Jiraiya gave her the materials after my death." He stopped for a few moments, but no one spoke or even breathed.

'Do I believe any of this?'

"That may be relevant to how she came to this place. But we have also seen that she has somehow found herself in the service of the god of death." His lips twisted in a bitter way Genma had never seen in his years working with Minato. "As she is Naruto's twin, I obviously did not know her long. I can provide some information." His eyelids slid low. "The dead are not entirely unaware of the living."

'Very creepy.'

Jiraiya cleared his throat. He looked up and down the table, cataloging expressions. When he looked at Minato, he seemed pained. "Well, shit."

"I am very pleased," Aiko said, because her jounin seemed kind of nervous. "Thank you for coming today."

Hayashizaki gave her a smile, but he still looked a little ill underneath the professional veneer.

'Probably, if I was the first person to publicly challenge the woman who became my kage, I might not be totally chill about her calling me in to a meeting. That seems like exactly the kind of person a different Mizukage might make an example of.'

Fair. His terror was well-founded.

"I am not displeased," she said again. Maybe it would sink in this time. "Actually, I decided at the time that you were one of the more sensible people present." Aiko nodded at him. "You were right to challenge my qualifications at the time. Any patriot would wonder who the hell I was and why I thought I deserved to be your kage. Only you were brave enough to demand an answer."

She flicked her attention to Sanbi, expecting an insult. It never came. Disappointing.

Well, then. Despite her best efforts, Hayashizaki was still waiting for the shoe to drop. She sighed and gave up being soothing as a bad job. Aiko wasn't suited to it. "You've never taught. Do you have any interest or inclination?"

"Not in particular." He was trying way too hard to look impassive.

"What would you say are your strengths?"

Hayashizaki faltered. "My suspicious personality?" He said, but it came out more like a question. "I am methodical and detail-oriented. I am quick to notice irregularities. My genjutsu is above-average." He seemed to get a bit desperate as she just waited. "My fire-nature chakra is an unusual asset in Kirigakure. Aside from the expected weaponry, I am proficient in Gunsen and manriki-kusari, which make me a valuable asset in non-lethal disarmament or in combat in open air and expand my tactical flexibility."

'Wow. He just keeps talking.'

"I bond well with others, as evidenced by my record of team cohesion and string of successful partnerships."

'This is a thing that works? I can just look at people and they feel uncomfortable and talk forever?'

He seemed to realize he was going a bit far. He tried to deflect with humor. "I can also make a completely edible nikujaga." Then he finally had the sense to stop talking.

She gave him a good minute and a half of pointed silence to see if he'd restart the babble, but he'd figured it out. She made a note to remember the nikujaga thing, though. Only a fool would let that slide. A possible source of meat and potatoes should not be passed up.

Aiko sniffed. "Weaknesses?"

"I've heard that I am not prudent about minimizing my words," Hayashizaki said promptly. "Prone to outbursts, and a disappointing swordsman."

Aiko thought back to their first meeting, when good sense but an underdeveloped sense of self-preservation had meant he was the only one with guts to ask her who the hell she thought she was. "I see."

'The Utakata was wary about exposing this person to you,' Sanbi said 'I had assumed that he feared your violent retribution for wounded pride. Perhaps he was instead concerned that you might intimidate the boy into incoherence.'

Plausible, actually. Utakata had said that they were agemates.

'I don't think he's actually timid,' Aiko decided. 'These are unusual circumstances. I think he's more generally hot-blooded. And I saw a strong sense of justice which was offended when he thought someone unworthy might become his leader. That indicates a healthy respect for social institutions. He mentioned his social skills among his strengths, which could be pandering in Konohagakure but in Kirigakure probably does indicate that he is socially oriented.'

Sanbi made a listening sound.

'I think he's a good fit. He's young enough to present an attractive face but old enough not to be dismissed out of hand, is less likely than the average to demonstrate controlling or abusive tendencies, and could build relationships on the ground. What do you think?'

"My only reservation is the allocation of your resources," Sanbi admitted. "Had you twice the shinobi you have now, I would wholeheartedly endorse this plan."

'Thank you for the input.'

Hayashizaki was still waiting, ramrod straight and expressionless. He'd do.

"We are expecting company," Aiko said in a mild tone. "Sunagakure and Konohagakure, certainly. That will mean a significant increase in guests passing through Wave Country."

Hayashizaki nodded, cautious. "I see."

"We will be establishing a temporary outpost on the nearest island of Wave country," Aiko continued. "As the shinobi traffic is at our behest, we are taking responsibility for ensuring that a burden does not fall on the civilians living there."

That was diplomatically prudent. The Daimyo of Wave clearly didn't know or care much about the inaka, but he might manage to be offended enough to get involved if she caused his people too much trouble.

"You will be posted there to provide assistance to our visitors and protect the interests of Higashi-Gyoson. Their village head, Tazuna, is working on reconstruction efforts here, so your contact will be his heir and daughter, Tsunami. Do you have any questions about this objective?"

"I do," Sanbi said. He sounded "Is that truly the name of that village?"

"Yes, Mizukage-sama. Other than myself, who will staff this post?" Hayashizaki didn't seem bothered at all. "What will the mission duration be?"

'The one with the kindly peasants? Yes.'

"An end time has not been designated, so prepare for a long-term mission. I'm looking into the possibility of sending a chuunin there on a different mission, but they would be under your supervision. Other than that, you will have a rotating staff of either one or two chuunin at a time designated as your assistant in problem-solving and maintaining peace."

He lapsed into thought. "It somewhat lacks in creativity. Is that why they do not often say the name?"

There was a pause while Hayashizaki clearly wondered what that chuunin's mission might be and if he could ask about it.

'I think the name mostly exists for administrative purposes,' Aiko decided. 'I mean, I've lived in plenty of safehouses out in the middle of nowhere and it never occurred to me to name them. I wouldn't think of it without an outside reason even if three other families built houses nearby. Probably it was just a small fishing village on the most eastern coast, and then some government representative either picked out "East Fishing Village" as a name, or the village head panicked or something. Whatever. The Great nations all have pretty underwhelming names, too. Any name is dumb if you think too long about it.'

Hayashizaki apparently decided to risk a question. "Have you identified a specific chuunin for the separate mission?"

"Not yet," Aiko admitted. "Tazuna-san, the village head, has expressed interest in allowing his grandson and a classmate to undergo basic training." She watched her jounin's expression carefully, wondering just what kind of asset she had here.

"Oh, he is intelligent," Sanbi noted absently.

The turtle was right. Hayashizaki clearly got that expansion was what she wasn't saying- a small outpost of friendly, professional shinobi would make a big impression on the locals. When they were protecting the civilians interests and deliberately mingling by dedicating one person's workload to training two local children, it was highly probable that other locals would want to send their children to benefit.

Which was the real reason to locate a suitable chuunin to do the mentoring on a long-term, fulltime basis. Almost anyone, even most genin, could conduct an Academy style training regimen. The only reason to have one person assigned to do it was to build consistency in the hopes of drawing in more candidates from the locals.

'Actually, there's no reason that the fulltime shinobi has to be a chuunin,' Aiko realized. 'I was replicating Konoha's academy system. But a genin can teach conditioning, basic weapon skills, and low level jutsu. If the students are all from civilian bloodlines, there's much less reason to be concerned that one of them might be kidnapped. So the teachers don't necessarily need to be strong combatants.'

"Actually, I may have just changed my mind about the mission arrangement," Aiko said. She leaned back in her chair. "Your assignment remains the same. I will update you about the rest of the outpost when we have a full mission briefing. This meeting was a preliminary assessment of your stability and character before I determined you were an adequate candidate." She smiled at the jounin, who was trying not to look too offended. "I believe you are adequate."

'I can spare a genin long-term much more easily than a chuunin. Actually, a team of genin would be good. Career genin, or at least ones who are a little older. An outpost/mini Academy with one permanent Jounin, three permanent genin, and a rotating chuunin or two is damn respectable. Wave would know I was serious about the relationship, and there would be enough manpower to allow Hayashizaki to conduct more operations at his discretion. And it would really only take a few months for any trainees to have some basic uses that would free up my people in case of an emergency- a decent runner, a couple people who know emergency protocols- that would provide a lot of flexibility and be a self-sustaining system.'

"I am flattered." Hayshizaki sounded like he was genuinely trying to be charming, but couldn't push down the edge of annoyance. Yeah, that was more like it.

"Don't lie to me," Aiko said cheerfully. She flashed her teeth at the other jounin. "It demeans us both. In any case, I'm sure you can gather that building and maintaining good relationships with the people of Higashi-Gyoson is central to the success of this mission." She tossed her hair and dropped the pretense. "Training Kiri shinobi in Wave is step one to annexing the country."

To his credit, Hayashizaki didn't look like he was considering questioning her judgment for a second. Yes, he definitely respected authority when it had been adequately proven.

"No comments?" Aiko prodded, lazy and predatory.

"My only concern is that your seal will need to be replaced when you are the Godaime Mizukage of Kirigakure, first Mizukage of the Land of Waves," Hayashizaki said. It was by far the smoothest thing he'd said in her hearing.

She eyed him. She thought about it. "Shit. I love that seal."

"You might simply use a second seal for the other office to save it," Hayashizaki suggested. "You may also argue that this is because you are holding the office in trust for your dear friends in Wave, who will one day soon rise to the occasion."

Aiko tapped her jawline. "That's rhetorically sound. I'm going to use that. Also, you're friends with Utakata, I didn't know that." She pursed her lips. "I didn't realize he had friends other than me. I don't like this. I'm going to have to have a talk with him."

Hayashizaki tried not to look unpleasantly surprised.

"That flattery was a little too tailored," she critiqued. "Not many people have heard me express my particular fondness for my seal of office, but one of the two who has is the person who provided me with your name. An agemate, ranking peer." Aiko raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, I just don't buy that you happened to stumble upon one of my vanities. Not impossible, but implausible when there is a more direct explanation." She pointed at him with her right hand, rather as if she was aiming a projectile. Hayashizaki certainly flinched. "You get points for pairing it with an attractive rhetoric I can use on Wave, but next time, I expect more subtlety in your compliments. Do you understand?"

Hayashizaki looked shell-shocked. Ah, yes, that was the most extreme expression she'd gotten out of him yet. "Yes, Mizukage-sama," he said woodenly. "Of course, Mizukage-sama."

"Good, good." She curled her hand back under her chin. "You may go, now."

"Thank you, Mizukage-sama."

He let the door shut just a little too loudly. She could see his flinch in the one-way glass at the top.

Aiko relaxed her body language into a slight slouch and stretched her legs. "What a nice young man," she said.

Sanbi agreed, with a rumble of laughter.

She pushed her chair back so she could open the middle drawer on her desk to pull out her itinerary. There was only one more evening appointment, but she double-checked the time. Ugh. Aiko spun on her chair. The light breeze was a relief in her stuffy office. Actually- she stood up and opened the window behind her desk.

There was no reaction, but she was well-aware that her watching guard was annoyed from his hiding spot. Ah, yes, opening up a direct line of sight into a lit room for anyone with a projectile. You fuck.

"Why do you criticize yourself in this manner?" Sanbi asked, curious.

Aiko lifted her arms into a stretch. 'I can't tell you how many times I had that exact bitchy thought when I was on guard duty in Konohagakure. It was a whole bunch, I resented every window.'

"What has changed?"

She let her arms drop and shrugged. 'Nothing. Except that I'm hot, my ass hurts from sitting, and it isn't my job to obsess over every way someone could possibly murder me.'

It was somewhat irritating to go back to the office after day one of construction work had wrapped up at 4pm. The challenge had been exhilarating, and working as part of a team was a treat she didn't get that often.

It had been good for her relationship with Gaara, as well. They had worked in tandem to terraform and lay foundation. It was kind of fun to discover new, practical ways to utilize shinobi abilities outside of combat. A shinobi who could control sand and a shinobi with fuinjutsu ability could make cement and move it a lot easier than a civilian could with a wheelbarrow. They were a good deal more efficient than even a shinobi using a wheelbarrow to move cement. Like, wheelbarrows, eat your heart out. Two jinchuuriki coming through to steal ya damn job. They would be the most powerful construction company in the world. Who could possibly hope to compete? Actually, that was an interesting thought.

"Must you?"

Aiko interlaced her fingers and stretched again. 'No,' /emshe thought apologetically. 'That was unnecessary and a bit weirder than I anticipated. I'm a little tired. I will stop talking about quitting to form a construction company with Gaara. I don't really even want to.'

"Thank you," Sanbi said. He let out a great huffing sigh. "Have you ruminated on the strange behavior of your ...puppy?"

She was still functionally alone, so it was totally okay to put her elbows on the desk and rest her head on her hands. 'I don't know,' Aiko admitted. 'I don't think I'll know until I talk to him. His hospital check came out clean, his debriefing didn't indicate any trauma, his teammates mentioned nothing unusual. I suppose it's possible that he just had an usually bad reaction to the time in custody, but it just doesn't seem like Yuusaku.'

He growled. Aiko put a hand to her chest for a moment, because it felt like her ribcage was vibrating under the low noise. But it wasn't. She put her hand back on her head and dug her fingertips into her scalp just enough to feel the points of pressure.

"This job sucks," Aiko mumbled. "Too many people. They are all so small and need help. So much help. I barely have time for writing policy and plotting and hunting traitors and committing malfeasance. What's life without a minimum of malfeasance?"

Sanbi seemed to cock his head. "Least likely to result in jailtime and international disgrace."

She made a rude sound. 'Not you too. I'm being very, very careful with my kage bunshin. But drug running is the only reason our economy isn't in the tank while we build up legitimate income and repair a fucking city. It is not cheap.'

"I understand," he said. He seemed much more reasonable about it than Utakata, the only other person in the world who knew about that source of income. "I merely worry about the effect that revelation would have upon your reputation and Kirigakure's international legitimacy."

'Reasonable fear. Can't afford to stop. Am very cautious.' Aiko rubbed at her eyes and then sat up straight. 'Pays very well because no legitimate party can be caught doing that kind of work, I have no travel expenses, is critically needed direct infusion into treasury.'

Her personal demon hummed, accepting the bullet point version of the argument she'd had with Utakata more than once.

Yuusaku was perfectly on time for his meeting. He slunk in with his gaze hovering a foot above the floor.

Her heart ached. "Yuusaku, what's wrong?" Aiko found that a soft tone came out naturally when she was talking to one of her kids. "You've seemed very down since you came back from Konohagakure. How can I help you?"

He swallowed and took a shaky breath. "I've failed you, Mizukage-sama. I don't deserve this." He pulled at his chuunin vest.

'What?'

It took a moment to work past bafflement and push out a level question that wouldn't make him feel any worse. "Yuusaku, I don't understand. Why do you think you've failed me? You met all my expectations. I'm proud of you and your team. I'm glad that we went to Konohagakure together."

He glanced up at her and away just as quickly. His eyes were red, she saw. Oh. Hell. Was he going to cry? Was she going to have a crying child in her office?

"The boy is 15, is he not?" Sanbi confirmed uncertainly. "Do human young cry even at that age?"

'Humans cry at all ages.' Aiko fidgeted. 'Are you thinking of the wailing babies tend to do? That's different. We don't do that after, like, three years old or so.'

"Ah. Should his parents be retrieved to soothe him?"

...Probably not? She wasn't an expert on human young, either.

"Mizukage-sama," Yuusaku said heavily. He blinked many times. "In Konohagakure, I believe I was identified as the weak link in the team. I was taken to questioning that my teammates did not experience."

"What." Her voice went totally flat. "You were situational witnesses, not captives. Are you telling me that Konohagakure subjected you to interrogation?"

'I'm going to kill them. I'm going to fucking kill them. I'm going to go over there and destroy their petty mountainside and use the leftover bits to crush the rats who run.'

"Yes? No? I don't know." Yuusaku rubbed at his eyes. "I was called in to personal questioning by the Hokage." He cleared his throat. "The Yondaime Hokage."

Oh. Oh, no.

'He was a wartime leader,' Aiko remembered. 'Minato is decades behind on diplomatic protocol.'

But it still seemed like common fucking sense that it was unwarranted intimidation to bring a genin, ostensibly a guest from a foreign nation, into questioning with the fucking kage. That was completely inappropriate. It was a dangerous precedent! Would Konoha fucking like it if she brought one of their genin into her office for private questioning? Your own country's military leader was intimidating enough. It was far too much to ask a genin to endure the pressure of a personal interrogation by a foreign military head. It was cruel and unnecessary.

She very carefully put her coffee cup down, because she didn't want to break the glass. "Please continue, Yuusaku."

"He asked me some questions." Yuusaku was talking faster now, like he just wanted to get it all out. "About you. About how long you trained us, where you came from, and what you would do if you wanted to get rid of him." He glanced up at her once again and then back to the floor. "I told him what you said about the timeline. I thought I was being clever with my other responses, ambiguous enough, but I wasn't, I was wrong. I don't know how but I knew it from his face that he got information from me. I'm so, so sorry." He stopped, choked up. "I'm sorry."

He turned to the side to hide his face. She still heard a quiet sniffle.

"Yuusaku," Aiko said. Her voice was exactly as calm as her heart was braying for blood. "A genin is not expected to match wits with kage to achieve promotion. That situation was completely inappropriate, and in no way reflects negatively upon you." She folded her hands very tightly, laced them together and squeezed until her skin turned white. "You performed up to expectations consistent with your rank and age. I would not expect the vast majority of my jounin to conceal information from a foreign kage. That you attempted it is to your credit."

She wanted to cross around her desk and try to comfort her student. But he was turned away- that indicated he wanted privacy. He wanted to protect his pride. She understood that.

"What did you tell him about how I would get rid of him?" Aiko asked, perfectly still and feeling so, so dangerous.

He took a few seconds to master himself enough to answer. "I said that I didn't know, because I hadn't seen you in a serious fight."

Ah. "He understood from that answer that I cannot remotely unwork the jutsu reviving the dead," Aiko explained. "That's the information he got from you."

Yuusaku flinched, waiting for a blow.

"I don't care if he knows that. The information is worthless to me, it's only valuable to Konohagakure because now they know that Minato-san is not about to drop dead at my convenience." She clenched her jaw. "That is acceptable. I am considering how I am going to murder him, and that seems much more satisfying."

Yuusaku gave her a wild-eyed stare. "You can't!" he protested. "A foreign kage?"

She opened her mouth to point out that she'd killed the previous mizukage before she was a citizen, but kept the words in. Wasn't worth it.

"It is politically imprudent," Aiko admitted. "But it is also righting the state of affairs. The Yondaime Hokage is clearly a relic of wartime, unsuited for modern leadership. I'm going to fucking kill him, and then I suppose Kumogakure will be our friend instead of Konohagakure." She paused, thinking about it. "That is also an acceptable outcome. They're closer, even. That's convenient. And that would open up a line of trade to the Outer countries. We could all have TVs, legally. That would be nice. See how it all works out when you murder the Hokage?" By the end, she was really warming to the idea.

"It could lead to war," Yuusaku pointed out. "And it would endanger our relationship with other nations." His voice was strengthening, more comfortable on this familiar ground. "If we were not already at war, a kage personally assassinating another kage is beyond the pale. We would never have another alliance. Who could trust us? We would be destroyed."

'Not if I kill enough of them that nobody wants to fuck with me. Fuck, I killed Itachi. He's shit-scum and stupid as all hell, but he was a loyal Konoha nin. I've already broken that taboo. What's ten more. What a hundred more.'

Aiko took a long, slow inhalation, and pushed down the murderous fantasies. Those were a lot more common lately. Sanbi? She really didn't think that was all her.

He gave a guilty little grumbled. Some of the rage peeled away. Some of it really was hers, though.

"Aa." She clenched her jaw, and then deliberately relaxed the muscles. "You would prefer that I did not kill him, then?"

Yuusaku gave her a look that was hard to interpret. "Mizukage-sama," Yuusaku got out tentatively. "I do not believe that a kage can be held responsible for mistreating foreign genin."

"He's not better than you," Aiko said darkly. "Minato really is not that great. He's selfish, academically unimaginative, makes way too many assumptions about people's competence, and is a shit parent all around. No wonder that he's a fuckup even when it's other people's kids. He did fuck up his whole genin team too, now that I'm thinking about it. The survivors are goddamn lunatics. I'll introduce you sometime, that'll be a laugh."

Yuusaku made a high-pitched sound. When she looked over, he was white. "Sensei?"

"Oh, right. "He's my father," Aiko admitted. "That's classified information, sorry. But he's a useless, stupid garbage human who behaved unprofessionally because he was emotionally compromised." She kicked back her chair and stood up. "And I'm going to make him eat it. Yuusaku, sweetheart, how would you like a personal letter of apology from the Hokage?"

He just stared at her.

"He's not better than you," Aiko repeated, feeling stuck on that. "He has no right to intimidate my people. He has no right to make you doubt yourself when you are doing a good fucking job." Her voice shook with fury on that last part. "You were a damn good genin, and you're on track to be a damn good chuunin. He doesn't get to make you sad."

"Once, when I was in preschool, my teacher made me write an apology to another student." Yuusaku sounded distant and confused. His eyes were glazed over. "Because I broke his toy ship."

"Your teacher was right." Aiko unfolded her hands because she didn't want to break any delicate bones. "When we wrong another person, we say that we are sorry."

She gave in to her urge and walked around her desk to give her new chuunin a hug. He put his hands around her back a moment later.

"I'm going to get an apology for you," Aiko promised into his shoulder. "And he's going to mean it. If he isn't sorry now, I will make him sorry. And then I will make him write a very nice letter."

"Um. Okay."

She hugged him a little harder.

#vapors #uzumaki aiko #electrasev5n #ninja daily #fanfiction #naruto fanfiction #clarity #AIC #Aiko in Canon

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demon-shark · 24 days

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Red Cloud Curse; Chapter 1

Warnings: Cussing, highway meat robbery, alcohol, mystery shipping

Man makes the mistake of leaving his meat truck in the hands of Kisame, Deidara, and Hidan.

Kisame was walking back to the apartment with Hidan and Deidara when they came across a truck. The guy they assumed had been driving it was standing next to it and typing it away angrily on his phone. It must have been dead because the driver ended up angrily shoving it in his pocket. He then looked up at the three of them and pointed while he yelled, “Hey! Yeah, I’m talking to you!” Kisame stepped up to the guy as he approached asking, “You gotta phone?” Kisame dodged the question by asking his own, “What? Did your truck break down?” The man looked between Kisame and the truck before snapping, “No genius, I just like standing around in a shitty neighborhood. Look I’m already two hours late on this delivery, I try to take one short cut and this is what I get. My goddamn kid drained my phone playing some stupid game, my goddamn wife took my charger. Listen, I will give you ¥5 if you let me use your phone. Just one call.”

“Oh, we don’t have a phone. Our Dad said not until we’re 18.” Deidara lied without hesitation. Deidara then turned around and waved down the street, “There is a bar down 10 blocks that way… I can’t remember the name. They should help you out though.” The man’s eyes widened. “10 blocks?! Fricken.” The man then reached into his pocket and started counting out some cash. “This is yours if you watch the truck.” For a desperate man, he sure is cheap. “¥5, cool. Thanks, mister.” The man then started down the street, “And make sure no one gets near it!” As soon as he was out of earshot Kisame pulled out his phone and made a call, “Hey Kakuzu, I’m sending my location to you now, bring a crowbar.”

It took 5 minutes for the rest of the Akatsuki and some of their neighbors to show up. As soon as Kisame was tossed the crowbar he broke the truck open revealing an entire butcher shop's worth of meat. Kisame and Kakuzu jumped in and started helping others into the truck so everyone could take what they wanted. As they started emptying the truck, more of their neighbors caught on to what was happening and joined in. One rather feisty old lady slapped Hidan away from a box of something, “Get back, I’m married to two husbands.” Hidan raised his hands as he said, “Take it easy, Grandma”. As the Akatsuki dragged their portion of the haul into the apartment, Konan stood in front of the freezer, “How are we going to store all of this?” It was then that Kisame came in with a whole cow leg on his shoulder, “Careful, coming through.” Konan looked over everything before turning to Zetsu, “Does Imada still have that chainsaw?” Zetsu didn’t look up from the meat he was weighing as he said, “yeah and he owes Hidan cause he covered for him while he was having an affair.” As Kakuzu went to grab the chainsaw to cut the larger meats, the others took knives to what they could and wrapped them up in newspapers. They soon heard the sound of the chainsaw being used from the sidewalk, “Can someone get the leg to Kakuzu?” Konan asked and she chopped up some beef. Hidan jumped up from his station and plopped the cow leg onto his shoulder, “You got it,”.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Loud bangs shook the walls of their apartment as a grumpy Madara made his way to the door. He nearly ripped the door off its hinges startling the officers, only made worse by the scowl that Hidan is convinced is permanently stuck on his face. “I-I uh…” The first officer struggled to find his words causing his partner to step up, “We’re investigating the recent robbery of a meat truck that took place last Friday. We were wondering if anyone here might have seen something.” Madara crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway as he looked down at the officers. “No.” The first officer took an awkward step back as if trying to escape only to be stopped by the second officer. “We actually have a few suspects we would like you to look over.” She then pulled out three pictures that roughly looked like Kisame, Deidara, and Hidan but Hidan and Deidara were the wrong gender and Kisame’s shark features were exaggerated to almost cartoonish proportions. It was then Kisame walked out from the room he shared with Itachi, Sasori, and Deidara.

Madara turned around at the blue man he found to be a companion and called him over, “Kisame! There are some cops here with some pictures they want you to look at.” Kisame looked only slightly confused before he walked over, the second officer held the pictures out to him and without hesitation, he said, “I have never seen these people in my life,”. Madara heard someone choke down a laugh in the back and if he knew what was good for him he would be gone by the time Madara turned around. “Very well, thank you for your cooperation,” the second officer said before leaving, the first officer practically sprinting away from the door. Madara slowly closed the door behind him, before turning around to a grinning Hidan who looked a little too proud of himself. “Have you never heard of discretion?” Hidan immediately waved him off, “It’s not like the dumbasses recognized me.” Kisame raised an eyebrow at the silver-haired ass, “Where are you going?” Hidan looked around the kitchen as he said, “Maruko du Pain.” Kakuzu then stepped out and headed to the kitchen to start making coffee. “Don’t distract Itachi.” Hidan looked back at him offended as he said, “I wasn’t going to,”. Hidan then grabbed a piece of toast and headed out the door. “Was that picture supposed to be me?” Kisame asked, turning to Madara who grumbled as he rubbed his face and headed back to bed.

Hidan enjoyed Madara’s breakfast as he made his way into a nicer part of the city. As he did, he noticed a familiar redhead entering his very destination. He grinned to himself as he ran in after Sasori, the door not even having the chance to close. The look on Itachi’s face said it all ‘Please don’t do this’. Upon seeing Itachi’s face, Sasori turned around and immediately regretted it. Sasori turned around and took his usual place in a corner of the cafe that was hidden from the cameras. Hidan strutted up to the counter where Itachi stood with a look of utter defeat, unable to run because of his job. Only Hidan was interrupted by the sound of a woman clearing her throat. She had to have come in after Hidan because he hadn’t seen her when he entered but that didn’t stop her from looking up at him as if she expected him to move.

Upon seeing that Hidan wasn’t going to move she shoved him out of the way. “This creme brulee has dirt in it!” Itachi looked slightly concerned as he reached out his hand, “Can I see it?” The woman handed it over and Itachi quickly relaxed, “This is vanilla.” The woman then scoffed as she asked, “Are you calling me stupid?” Hidan then mocked her scoff as he said, “He isn’t but I’m going to.” The woman then put her hands on her hips as she turned to Hidan, “Vanilla is clear, if you’ve ever baked before you would know that.” Hidan then put his hands on his hips in an exaggerated manner, “Maybe your cheap store brand stuff is, but vanilla pods have little specks in them.” The woman then gave an offended gasp before storming out of the bakery. “What was her problem?” Itachi gave a tired sigh as he said, “That was Okubo Azumi, she lives next door to the bakery and seems to have an issue with the bakery.” Hidan removed his hands from his hips to look over at Itachi, “So she does this regularly?” Itachi gave a tired nod causing Hidan to look back at the door the lady just left, “Who beefs with a bakery?”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

As they lit the trash fire everyone gathered around with their beers and their kids to celebrate the meat hull they pulled off earlier that day. “I’m gonna be honest, when these… teens moved in six weeks ago going on about some cycle of pain or hatred or whatever, I thought they were a bunch of loons. But I’ve come to see the light. How we have come to over rely on heroes causing good people to stand by when someone needs help. Heroes who care more about fame and money than helping down-troughton people like us. Heroes help maintain a system that suppresses us. A system that shames and demeans those for things out of their control. A system that puts assholes in charge because they were determined better than the rest of us at birth. People I had brushed off as just some teens who didn’t know what they were talking about, opened my eyes to real problems with our society. And that’s just my way of saying… thank god for the Akatsuki.” Everyone then raised their beers as they yelled, “To the Akatsuki!” Miyake Hiroki, a drunkard who liked to play the victim, wasn't too far off from what Pein had been pushing since they learned about this hero society. However, what he believed the message was as an individual isn’t as important as how the community had taken it. As he watched over the trash burn and barbeque he was approached by Tobirama. “Pein.” Pein looked over at the albino, returning with his own, “Tobirama”. Tobirama then moved to stand next to his wheelchair, his arms crossed. “We need to talk.”

It was then everyone heard the dreadful sound of police sirens. The lights soon came into view and turned out it wasn’t just the police, a fire truck had shown up as well. The crowd quickly started to boo as the party was shut down. The police ushered the people away as the firefighters put out the fire. “Gotta hand it to um, they handled it faster than the heroes did.” Jouzetsu smiled as he put his hands in his pockets. “That’s because the heroes don’t come into this neighborhood,” Dokuzesu grumbled, the implication of Jouzetsu being a dumbass clear in his tone. “That does remind me though, whose turn is it for the electric bill?” Hidan gave a quiet, “Crap,” before reaching into his pocket and pulling out ¥25000 in cash, “This should cover it,”. Pein then looked over at Tobirama who had been cut off by the situation, looks like he wasn’t going to drop it. Pein gave the rest of them a look before he and Tobirama left to talk.

#deidara #sasori #akatsuki #akatsuki fanfiction #black zetsu #Red Cloud Curse #kisame hoshigaki #itachi uchiha #sasori akasuna #white zetsu #pein #senju tobirama #madara uchiha #kakuzu #hidan #my hero academia #Pein's preaching being misinterpreted by a drunk man #highway meat robbery

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chanfictions · 2 years

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Did I slightly reinvent Tobi's character design? Yes. Did this chapter take an absurd amount of effort to extract from the tangled web of plot in my brain? I don't wanna talk about it. Will there ever be actual Kisame smut for the prompt event?? Also, yes. Eventually. It's coming, I swear. I just have a few… several… thousand words of plot and setup to vomit up first. Angst, fluff, and terrible Sci-Fi jokes. Come and get it!

Lucky Pt. 3

Love Game - Lucky Pt. 1 - Lucky Pt. 2 - Love Game Pt. 2 - Lucky Pt. 3

Kisame x Reader

Warnings: references to past self harm, scars, descriptions of bodily injury that occurred during part 2.

4.1k

"Goddamnit, Hoshigaki, this isn't a fucking urgent care–"

You could clearly hear Kakuzu's pointed displeasure over the running water in the employee's bathroom where you were currently trying to mop the evidence of your terrible day off of your battered face. The thin, scratchy paper towels that did little more than dissolve into a pulpy mess upon contacting anything damp weren't doing any favors to your achy, broken skin. Sighing audibly, you made the mistake of glancing at yourself in the mirror and just cringed.

To put it bluntly – you looked like shit. Your nose was probably broken. No amount of scarves or turtle necks would be able to hide the angry purple bruises that circled your neck and spilled onto your jawline. The shirt you were wearing was beyond saving – torn to shreds and splashed with more than one person's blood. That definitely wasn't going to wash out. You grumbled quietly, bracing your hands on the red-stained lip of the once porcelain white sink as you let your head hang and shut your eyes.

At least today can't get any worse.

A knock at the door prompted your gaze to snap in the direction of the sound as it creaked open. A familiar hand offering a folded t-shirt emerged from the crack, followed by a quiet, "Here," to ensure it had your attention.

"Thanks," you croaked in response, gingerly taking it with a grip that just wouldn't stop shaking.

Fuck, your throat hurt.

When the hand disappeared and the door clicked shut again, you set the shirt on top of the paper towel dispenser and peeled off the wreck you were wearing with a pained grunt before chucking it into the bin, where it landed with a squelch on top of a pile of wet paper towels. Voices carried through the door as you turned from one side to the other to survey the rest of the damage in the mirror. Your face contorted in dismay. You didn't even remember how you acquired half of those bruises. Everything seemed to happen so fast – the impacts all blurred together. The traded blows probably left your apartment looking like a war zone. You groaned at the ceiling. There was no way you were getting your security deposit back now.

Your eyes drifted back to the clean t-shirt waiting for you on top of the plastic box jutting out of the wall. It still had a tag on it and was pressed flat – having lived a long, forgotten life at the bottom of a heavy pile. When you shook it out, holding it by the shoulders, you were greeted with text from a show you had attended last year and the subtle scent of formaldehyde. It must have been a leftover that went unsold, but no matter. You were just thankful to have something clean to put on – even though you wished it had been long-sleeved. The tag popped off with a sharp tug, and you pulled the shirt over your head before glancing over at yourself in the mirror again. To your surprise, it didn't look half bad on you – from the neck down, anyway.

The sound of a new voice joining the mixed discussion occurring just beyond the door drew your attention away from the wrecked reflection staring back at you. Not Kakuzu, not Kisame – definitely not that Zabuza character you had met briefly over nachos and a sports game at Kisame's apartment. This one was low, soft, and somehow still raspy. He was going back and forth with Kisame about something, though you couldn't quite make it out.

Please, Kisame, tell me you didn't call the fucking cops.

Your heart began to pound again as you pressed your ear to the door in hopes of gleaning some insight into what was being said. Gods, you didn't want to have to talk to some judgemental prick in a uniform. You didn't want to be questioned about what you did to get yourself beaten to a pulp.

A cold sweat beaded up on the back of your neck and rolled down onto the pressed collar of your borrowed shirt as a horrifying new thought crossed your mind. What if? What if they just went for the convenient arrest and tried to go after the person who saved you? Oh, gods – did Kisame kill him? Is that why you had to leave so quickly? What if–

A knock at the door.

"Hey, darlin', you decent?"

He wanted you to come out.

Fuck.

"Yeah, just a sec," you answered with a strained voice that hardly sounded like your own. It trembled in time with your shaking. Regardless of how much you wanted to bury yourself in that trash can of wet paper towels and disappear, you had to leave the strange comfort of this single-stall bathroom, though you did briefly consider climbing out the window and vanishing into whatever alleyway was on the other side of the wall.

Don't be a fucking idiot.

They were waiting, whoever they were. You had to swallow the desert in your mouth and quash the doomsday scenarios squabbling in your brain and face the proverbial music.

Why did it feel like you were the one in trouble here?

What a mess.

Kisame stood with arms crossed over his chest, glancing over his shoulder toward the employee bathroom briefly before returning his attention to the speaker at his side. A contact from his old line of work that morphed into something of a friend over the years had arrived at the bar some time after you and Kisame with a hastily packed duffle bag of your belongings and some rather unfortunate news.

When you finally emerged from behind the door looking like a beaten dog, the pair of voices in the room quieted for a moment until Kisame broke the first uncomfortable silence and gestured to the couch.

"Sit down. We need to talk."

Your eyes flicked anxiously from one face to another before you folded your arms over your chest and took a seat. The unfamiliar voice you heard earlier belonged to the figure perched on Kakuzu's coffee table. He had spiky black hair, and one side of his face was badly scarred and punctuated by a blind, clouded eye, giving him a rather intimidating air. It was subtle, somehow – not so much a warning that he might kill you if you annoyed him too much, but rather a testament that he had seen some shit in his life and shouldn't be taken lightly. He didn't look like a cop. You didn't see a badge or notice the stench of self-righteous superiority that normally hung around those types. He wasn't looking down on you, but somehow this was worse. His seeing eye – impossibly red and so clear – burned right through you and followed your movements, taking in your defensive posture, searching, searching, searching. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, adjusting your folded arms as you glanced around at them again, hoping someone would just cut the fucking tension already and speak.

"This is To–"

"Obito, Kisame. We've been over this. I don't go by that name anymore."

"Sorry," Kisame said with a light laugh. "Old habits. Obito and I used to work together doing private security."

"Why does Obito have one of my bags?" You questioned through the tightness in your throat.

Kisame glanced over at his companion and back to you again. "Because you're gonna be staying with me for a while."

You looked between the two of them nervously, settling on the newcomer's scarred face when he began to explain.

"This situation is much much bigger and more complicated than you realize, and goes beyond just you," Obito continued, talking over your stunned silence, crimson orb focused keenly on yours in such a way that you seemed to be shrinking at an alarming rate.

The growing pit in your stomach told you exactly what that something was, but your smart mouth got ahead of you again with a biting accusation staining your tone. "And what is that, exactly?"

When Obito produced a well worn, leather-bound journal in response and flipped it open to a dog-eared page, time ground to a stop, and your heart may as well have stopped beating. A sick, frigid shiver raised goosebumps along your skin and sucked the moisture right out of your mouth. The past was catching up – you knew the image scrawled over the lined sheet all too well. The medallion that hung around Hidan's necklace was surrounded by columns of grimly illustrated notes detailing the darkly whispered promises that had long since sealed your fate – promises Hidan made in response to your desperate request.

"Tell me, have you heard of The Way of Jashin?"

Your voice strained and grew quiet, shrinking along with the rest of you into the couch. "I… H-hidan mentioned it once."

"Then you know what Hidan's interest in you was."

Of course, you knew. Humiliation burned your cheeks as you flexed your jaw and reflexively dug your nails into your arms. Hidan's voice hummed quietly in the back of your head. His touch lingered on the long, numbed scars that ran from your elbows to your wrists. You could still feel his thumb playing over your pulse point, all the while whispering like the devil he was in your ear.

Go on, cupcake. Or do you want me to do it for you?

Your breath caught in your chest as you abruptly lurched back to reality, suddenly uncomfortably aware of the presence of people in the room. Their eyes, their stares – you might as well have been sitting there naked with your broken secrets laying in your lap. The air had no business feeling this thick and swampy. You were suffocating all over again as you choked out a crackling yes in response.

Obito rose to his feet, pulling his leather gloves back on and glancing at Kisame briefly before returning his attention to you once more. "You need to lay low for a while. Don't go out. Don't go home. Turn off your phone. I guarantee he's going to try to contact you – to get into your head. Don't let him."

Even without looking up at him, you could feel that crimson eye in your head, reading your thoughts, uncovering your secrets, rifling through all of your dirty laundry as he probably had to pack the bag sitting at his feet. You wondered how much he really knew – and what he told Kisame, or what Kisame told him for that matter. Your thoughts were racing out of control, and the only rational piece of driftwood you could grab in your personal storm of chaos was the laughable prospect of rent and the countless holes in the drywall that needed repair. "How am I supposed to do that – I have to work–"

"Everything you need is in that bag."

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you twisted your knuckles in your lap as you struggled to get the next question off of your tongue. The momentum you had a moment ago was lost. "So… is… is Hidan…"

"Dead? No. He was gone by the time I got to your apartment."

Untangling your arms from the knot you'd tied them in around your body, you leaned forward, burying your face in your hands as you let out a shaky, defeated sigh.

Great.

You really should have known better than to ask when you knew the answer already. Of course, Hidan was still alive, and now, you were right back where you started – alone on the dance floor, hunted by a starving wolf with a gnashing hole in your chest that left you wondering if your luck had finally run out.

After Obito left and Kisame was guilted into returning to work, you remained locked on the couch, staring dumbly at your hands and listening to Kakuzu's irritated muttering as he tried to carefully remove what was left of the broken threads woven through the delicate skin on your neck. You were decidedly not as cooperative as you had been the first time around, though, tensing at distant noises coming from the bar and reflexively jerking your head back every time Kakuzu moved unexpectedly or the scissors in his hand flashed in your periphery. The low, warning rumble in his chest and the crease forming between his eyebrows made it abundantly clear that his patience was wearing thin.

"Hold. Still."

It occurred to you as you mumbled through an apology that your balled up hands were still shaking, and boy were you ever frustrated about it. This wasn't you. You didn't flinch. You were the girl that no one messed with, not some frightened puppy.

Damnit, you were better now.

But Hidan wasn't going to let you have that, was he?

A calloused thumb brushing over your still itchy and now painfully bruised skin made you lurch again. Your eyes met Kakuzu's glare this time, though the staring contest was short-lived. Kakuzu was not someone you cared to challenge right now, considering you were wearing a product of his generosity, not to mention he had spared you from at least one unwanted trip to the ER. Besides, he wasn't the one you were angry at.

"Here."

A cold glass was thrust into your hand – an order more than a gift, perhaps just to keep you from being a further nuisance to him. You knew what it was without looking down – the slightly sweet scent of your favorite drink wafted upwards. You almost laughed. It seemed like the testy owner kept track of his most profitable patrons' preferred poisons. You silently wondered if he had some spreadsheet with embarrassing nicknames hidden away in his office to keep track of what needed to be on order.

"Thanks," you croaked back, offering a pained half smile that strained your split lip. "I owe you one."

Kakuzu just snorted as he stood and began to walk away. "I'll send you a bill."

It was hard to tell if that was meant to be a joke or not. Ordinarily, you might have had a cheeky quip on the tip of your tongue in response, but today was not one of those days. All you could manage was a dry chuckle before taking a sip to settle your still very rattled nerves as the older man vanished into his office.

You woke with a start when something warm came to rest on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Your body lurched back into the cushion behind you, eyes pinned wide and heart crawling up into your mouth as you fought through the thick fog of sleep to figure out just what monstrous creature was about to sink its infinite rows of teeth into your squishy, human skull.

"Easy, darlin'. Just me."

You blinked in confusion, swallowing the cotton sludge in your mouth as your eyes finally focused on the face looking down at you. No monsters, nor rows of gnashing jaws. No Hidan standing over you, whispering grim little lullabies with silver in his hand – only Kisame. Kisame with his kind eyes and compassion pulling his mouth into a soft line, slowly drew his hand back in an apology for making you think for even an instant that he was anyone else.

"Sorry," you mumbled thickly, pressing yourself off of the sticky leather your sweaty skin had adhered itself to over the last few hours. House music thudded through the walls, still sounding familiar despite being muffled by the minimal soundproofing offered by the back room. Had you really slept through that? "What time is it?"

"A little after ten," Kisame answered while reaching down to snag your duffle bag from the floor.

Right. You had almost forgotten. You weren't going back to your apartment, or rather, you couldn't, assuming your earlier conversation with that Obito character hadn't been an invention of your frazzled mind. The ache wrapped around your throat tightened painfully as you swallowed hard again, wondering if Hidan had gone back to wait for you after the dust settled. Was he sitting on your couch, surrounded by broken glass and fallen trinkets, drinking your liquor? Was he still humming your song?

"You good?" Kisame's voice cut through that unsettling fantasy, drawing you back to the present. Those eyes were fixed on you again, studying your far-off expression, seeing all of your doubt and worry. You really needed to work on your poker face.

You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the image, forcing a small smile. "Yeah. Just tired."

"Come on," he said, offering you a hand. "Let's go home."

Home. He meant his apartment. Is that what it was for you now, too? You took his hand, standing up on shaky legs as he pulled you in under a heavy arm with your bag slung casually over his other shoulder and followed his lead out to the parking lot.

When the exterior door creaked open, a wave of heat gushed into the already humid hallway. The night air had grown heavy with the threat of rain. You breathed it in as you walked together through the packed lot and gazed up into the murky sky for a moment, listening to distant rumblings before climbing into Kisame's truck. Upon glancing down, you realized that there was blood on the passenger seat.

Your blood. From today. It had all happened today.

Kisame caught you staring as he turned to back out of his spot, braced with his hand behind your headrest. He wanted to tell you not to worry about it, that his old beater had seen so many coffee and grime stains that a spot of blood hardly even registered to him, but it seemed like you were on another planet again. As he righted himself to put the truck into drive, he paused – wanting to touch, to offer some kind of physical reassurance, but ultimately just put his hands back on the wheel to make the journey home out of fear that he might startle you again if he did. It hurt to just look at you – so bruised and battered with that distant uncertainty fogging your eyes.

A thick, uncomfortable silence hung in the cabin, making what should have been a short, easy drive stretch on for eternity. You were lost somewhere, mired in self-deprecation and doubt, and Kisame wasn't entirely sure how to best drag you out. You weren't like this the first time – after Hidan had been thrown out of the club. That drive was full of chatter and apologies – you made lighthearted jokes at your own expense, determined to not let ghosts get the better of you. Your head was still above the water then.

But now… now, it seemed like you were drowning.

When Kisame pulled into his assigned spot and parked, you finally looked up from the blood stain on the upholstery. He popped open your door and hoisted your bag back over his shoulder, coaxing you out of the truck with an open arm. You climbed out and walked under his wing with no argument, much preferring having the weight resting over your shoulders the way it was, even in the stifling heat.

He unlocked the door and flicked on the light, ushering you back through a familiar doorway into a pleasantly cool, familiar kitchen – all looking exactly as they had this morning but somehow different. An uneasy feeling was settling in your stomach like toxic silt – as though your home had burned to the ground and you were walking away from the ashes with nothing but the clothes on your back. Your situation suddenly felt less temporary. It was your horrifying, new reality.

"You hungry?" Kisame interrupted your spiraling again with such a simple, mundane question as he set your bag down on a table and made his way toward the fridge. It almost made you laugh. Kisame was always hungry.

"No. I think I just want to take a shower and pretend today didn't happen," you mumbled back, unzipping your bag to rifle for pajamas and maybe a towel.

"If Tobi forgot to grab your soap, you can use mine," his voice stated from inside the fridge. So casual. So domestic. So frighteningly normal. Glasses clanked loudly as he moved things aside and dug for leftover pizza. "He got in and out of there in a hurry."

"Thanks, Kisame." You made a mental note that you needed to clean his fridge before a forgotten Chinese food container had the chance to gain sentience.

"You sure you don't want anything?" He asked again, emerging victoriously with a box of pizza and setting it on the counter as he peered over his shoulder.

You managed a small smile when he glanced back at you and your armful of things, hoping that it looked more convincing than it felt. "Yeah, really, I'm good."

With the dim, flickering light of an almost muted TV illuminating your face, you sighed quietly, burying your face in your hands for the umpteenth time today. While your boiling shower had temporarily relieved you of your stresses while you were trying to scrub away the day's horrors, the gnawing sense of unease that had been festering in your stomach came creeping back as the purifying heat began to dissipate from your skin. You sat numbly on the couch, the same one that had been your bed for the last week, unable to find the fatigue that allowed you to pass out in the lounge outside of Kakuzu's office. You were wired. Antsy. Suspicious of neighborly noises and creaking floors. The rolling thunder and rain pelting the windows outside weren't helping either. It was almost three in the morning, and you still couldn't fucking sleep.

"Hey, darlin', you still awake?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin with a startled gasp, having somehow not heard the opening and closing of his bedroom door over your own paranoia. "Y-yeah. Sorry, did the TV wake you up?"

"Nah, just got up for some water."

That was a terrible lie. He came to check on you.

"Anything good on?"

You glanced back at the screen, having completely forgotten what you were even half-watching. Oh, right. Your guilty pleasure. "Just a cheesy Sci-Fi marathon. They always play the good stuff after midnight," you said with a half-hearted smile.

Kisame's dark eyes lit up as he stared at the screen. "Is this the one with the zombie sharks?"

You snorted, covering your mouth to stifle genuine laughter at your surprise that he could even identify the movie based on what was on the TV. "Dead Sea 2? Yes."

"Want some company? I never got to see the ending," he offered with that winning, crooked smirk.

You patted the seat next to you. "It's your couch, big guy. And you're in luck. It just started."

Kisame retrieved the glass of water he had insisted was the reason for his late-night shuffling before settling in beside you, leaving the drink on the table and stretching his arm over the back of the couch.

It took two commercial breaks for you to realize that you were more relieved than anything that Kisame was sitting beside you now. The tension you had been carrying that seemed to wind tighter with every passing bump in the night was finally letting go. You hardly heard the thunder anymore over the badly written script and Kisame's raspy barks of laughter. He was Team Zombie Shark, which you found endlessly amusing, considering you always rooted for the toothy antagonists yourself. It was a breath of fresh air – a welcome break in the storm.

You shimmied into the back of the couch, drawing your legs up with a yawn as the fatigue you had been so waiting for finally made itself known. You exhaled sleepily, closing your eyes for just a moment, swearing to no one but yourself that you were going to at least make it to the end of the movie. Without thinking, you tucked in closer to the source of warmth at your side, setting your head down against something firm and familiar, nuzzling your cheek into pleasantly soft fabric. Kisame made no objection, of course – only pulling a blanket down off of the back of the couch to cover you and setting his arm back around your shoulders as the soothing beat resonating in his chest slowly lulled you off to sleep.

#naruto x reader #kisame x reader #akatsuki x reader #kisame imagines #naruto imagines #naruto fanfiction #kisame fanfiction #kisame x you #chanfictions

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lavender-long-stories · 1 month

Text

✿ Monday Sneak Peaks ✿

Painting One Shot InoHina ✿ New

Hinata paused her paintbrush and glanced over her shoulder. “You need to roll some of the paint off before you bring it to the wall. You have too much on the roller.” “Stop back seat rollering.” Ino shot back as she spread the paint out over the wall half haphazardly.

A Kiss Between Strangers Chapter 4 GaaHina ✿ Ongoing

“Thank you,” Gaara said, but he didn’t go in right away. He lingered to say something else. “It’s good to see you again.”

Guarding Affections Chapter 29 KisaHina ✿ Ongoing

“I am going to go over there.” Kisame picked up the key card. “No.” Hinata hissed as she pulled a shirt over her head. “It could be housekeeping.” “At three in the morning?” Kisame countered

The Best Revenge Chapter 12 ShikaHina ✿ Ongoing

Naruto lunged at him again, but Hinata appeared between them. “Stop it!” She put her hand shy of his chest, quivering there as firmly as she could manage. “Do that again, and it's an attempted assault.” So she could stand for others, just not herself. “Seriously?” Naruto deflated. “You’re going to use the lawyer voice on me? What happened to you?”

Riding Hearts Chapter 7 Akatsuki x Hinata ✿ Ongoing

Hinata blinked at the bottle. “It smells like a sad memory?” Deidara pulled her wrist to sniff it. “Hm?” He shrugged. “Kind of an older woman's scent. Did it make you remember something?” Hinata shook her head, putting the cap back on and putting it on the shelf. “I wonder if I knew someone who wore it?”

Red Memories Chapter 27 SasuHina ✿ Ongoing

“These are cute.” Hinata picked up one of the string bracelets and placed it around her wrist. “Kiba-kun asked me for one of these as a kid.” Why couldn’t he make it himself?” Sasuke wondered as she put the bracelet back. They seemed simple enough. Most of them were just a series of knots. We were young, and making jewelry was still something he thought only girls should do.” Hinata shrugged as she slipped her arm around his to look at the next stall.

Why Is It Always You? Chapter 22 SasuHina ✿ Ongoing

Sasuke thumbed over the box he bought, but the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to throw it across the room. Maybe he was being stupid. They had one good day without fighting, and he was acting like… “Ugh.” He chucked the box at the wall and flinched when he realized Itachi was standing in the doorway.

Another one-shot. ~

Guarding Affections only has one chapter left T_T

#SasuHina #ShikaHina #hinata hyuga #KisaHina #gaahina #inohina #Akatsuki x Hinata #naruto fanfiction

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eyeles-writing · 2 years

Photo

Stupidity Is Not a Right

⭐︎Word Count: 2794 ⭐︎

⭐︎Pairings: Kisame Hoshigaki/Reader ⭐︎

⭐︎Content: Slice of life. First encounter! ⭐︎

⭐︎Description: Two shinobi are outside your door during the latest hours of the night, in desperate search of a place to stay. You, either out of stupidity or self-preservation, offer them your home for the night.

⭐︎ Kisame Week 2022: day 5 - “do you come here often?” “i live here” & teeth

About thirteen minutes ago, a large shinobi had bursted through your front door, a smaller one in tow. They eyed your home interior for a moment while you stared, heart racing at the appearance of two infamous killers at your doorstep. One was a shark-man hybrid with teeth sharper than a sword, and the other a silent killer known for the murder of his entire clan in a moments notice. You’d heard of the two men before, being a civilian from the Leaf caught up on current events, but you’d never expect them to show up at your door in the middle of the night.

The larger one, who was a pale blue shade somehow, locked eyes with you the moment he stepped through your door. You’d seen them through your window just moments before as they walked down the path to your home - after a brief internal panic, you froze in fear and decided that standing still in the middle of the room would be your best defense.

“Well,” The large one said, “do you work here?”

You didn’t even have time to process the weirdness of the question. You just shook your head slowly, as if to say “no, I don’t work here, and I’m incredibly fucking scared right now.”

The one behind him, who was currently staring you down intensely with no indication of emotion across his face, furrowed his brow gently at your lack of response.

“Do you come here often, then?” The man asked, flashing a grin at you. His sharp teeth glimmered in the candlelight, and a shiver was sent down your spine.

“...I live here,” you said faintly.

The large man looked back at his partner, clearly confused, then took a look around your living room for a moment.

“Kisame,” The smaller one spoke up, “I believe we’re terrorizing this innocent person for no reason. This is not an inn.”

A blush crept up to Kisame’s face, and he grinned apologetically. “I- ah, I’m sorry-!” He said, waving his hand in the air erratically, “I thought this was an inn-”

“Do you need somewhere to stay?” You asked abruptly, startling even yourself.

Kisame paused, shocked. Were you really offering them a room for the night?

“We would sincerely appreciate any hospitality you could offer us,” The smaller man spoke plainly. His voice was quiet, but it carried through to you just enough for you to understand what he was saying.

“Itachi is right,” Kisame said. “We badly need a place to stay, and we’re running out of options.”

“I… I guess I can, uh, offer you my living room for the night?”

You were still stood frozen in the middle of the room. Finally, you lifted your foot and took a few steps toward your couch, which appeared to be just large enough to fit one person. “I know it’s not much, but I also have some extra blankets for the floor…”

“It’s okay, sweetheart, sleeping on the floor is no issue.” Kisame shot you a smile, one much less malicious this time, and it was suddenly your turn to blush.

A feeling of awkwardness filled the room, as you were now left completely in the dark as to what you were meant to do now. There were two infamous killers in your living room, and you (out of stupidity or self-preservation, you’ll never know) offered your space to them. Now what?

“Um,” you spoke up, watching the two of them stand there idly as they waited for your direction, “I was going to make dinner… Did you guys… want any?”

“If you’d like assistance, I’d be glad to help,” Itachi gave you a gentle and seemingly genuine smile. “I’m an excellent cook.”

“O-Oh! I’d love that!”

Being the terrible cook that you are, you let Itachi take the reins when it came to dinner. He looked through your cabinets twice before he decided on a meal - rice with steamed vegetables and a bit of meat. It was simple enough to not take long at all while also being both decently healthy and only used the simplest ingredients in the house. You watched him while he worked, and Kisame continued chatting with you at your kitchen table while Itachi steamed the vegetables at your stove.

“So, you work in town?” He asked you initially, and you nodded.

“I’m a librarian, yes.” You swallowed the lump in your throat as your nerves slowly began to die out once it became clear that the two Akatsuki members were not intending to harm you. “I decided living a bit outside the village to grow my own produce was worth the commute, and it’s not been a problem as of yet.”

“Until now,” Kisame laughed, and you chuckled in response.

“What do… you do?” You asked hesitantly, hoping that he’d just lie to you out of politeness.

“I have a feeling that you know exactly what me and my partner do,” he said lowly, though the amount of charm in his voice did not waver once. “We do lots of things, primarily work toward our common goal of making the world a better place.”

“Through murder,” you clarified. Kisame shrugged.

“It can’t be helped.”

As you talked with the man, you began to realize just how delightful of a person he truly was. He was kind, actually, and intelligent. He answered all of the questions you asked him, which were primarily regarding his skill as a ninja - being born and raised a civilian and having little interaction with the shinobi world, you were almost completely oblivious to how the life of a ninja went. You even asked him some more personal things, and he answered gracefully.

You asked him about his living situation and he was quick to answer.

“We simply live nowhere,” he shrugged. “We go where there is work to be done. Whether that means living in hotel rooms or a cave for an evening, it is beyond our control.”

In your heart, a twinge of sadness rung. “You really have nowhere to call home?” You expressed, a frown on your face. “That’s really sad, you know.”

Kisame laughed, a boisterous noise echoing through the room. “If you think that’s sad, you ought to hear Itachi’s backstory.”

A cold shiver ran through your spine as Itachi, as if he’d been summoned, walked into the dining room with some plates in his hands. He set them in front of both you and Kisame, and then one for himself.

“There will be no sharing of my backstory tonight,” he mused, and Kisame chuckled. “Though I heard yours is quite entertaining, Kisame.”

His partner smiled. “What backstory? I just killed some teammates and stole a sword, there’s not much entertainment there.”

“You killed your teammates?” You asked, and Itachi smiled in amusement. Kisame bit into his food and nodded, his gills flexing outward with the movement of his jaw. You saw his sharp teeth bite into the meat that was mixed with the vegetables, and it reminded you just who you were talking to.

“I killed my teammates because they were filthy liars,” Kisame said. He took another bite, swallowed, then continued speaking. “They were selling out their village for personal gain, which is something I despise. I hated my village, but I hated liars more.”

“And you’re not concerned about that?” You glanced over at Itachi, who was staring down at his food and taking small bites occasionally. He hummed.

“Itachi could kick my ass if he wanted to,” Kisame laughed, “I don’t think he’s got anything to worry about.”

You took a bite of your food as you thought of his words, doing your best to think back to what little knowledge you have about Itachi and the Akatsuki. Being from the Leaf, Itachi was the only member of this organization that you were familiar at all with. You knew that his brother, Sasuke, was becoming a star ninja at the academy as of late - your brother was only a year above the boy and had told you all about his stellar skills. He’d also told you about how Sasuke went home to no family every day, left to sit alone in the Uchiha estate that had been abandoned almost a decade prior.

Kisame talked for both him and Itachi over the course of dinner, as it became very clear that Itachi was not a man who enjoyed talking to anyone. The shark-man charmed you quite easily with his fantastic stories of adventure, filling you with a deep and alluring sensation that made you want to continue asking questions. There was something about the way that he rested his chin on his palm as he talked to you, mindlessly tapping his other hand against his thigh, that had you entranced.

Itachi stood up suddenly, which broke you out of your conversation with Kisame regarding his favorite foods.

“I’ll be getting ready for bed now.” Itachi turned to you and his voice shifted into a softer tone. “Y/N, would you please show me to the bathroom?”

You stood up and smiled before heading down the hall and into the door on the left where your bathroom was. Itachi thanked you and, right as you were about to walk away, spoke in a volume so low that you could hardly catch it.

“I must warn you,” he whispered, “getting involved in Akatsuki business has proven time and again how dangerous the world can be.”

You furrowed your brow in confusion. “What do you mean?” You asked.

“I am silent, not oblivious. I see the interactions you and Kisame are having, and I am simply warning you. The world is not kind to the Akatsuki, and that is for good reason.”

A blush formed on your face as you crossed your arms in defiance. “I-I don’t know what you think you’re seeing, but you’ve got it wrong!” You glanced your eyes back to the end of the hallway, making sure that Kisame wasn’t listening, “I just think he’s funny!”

Itachi sighed audibly before turning into the bathroom. “Nonetheless, I appreciate your hospitality. Thank you.”

When you returned to the dining room, you found Kisame had taken all the plates to the kitchen and began washing them for you. You smiled at this and expressed your gratitude for what he had done, and he simply shrugged and said it was payment for a place to stay for the night.

“I hope you don’t mind sleeping on the floor,” you said. Your eyes glanced over to the floorspace in front of the couch, wondering to yourself if you had enough blankets to make the evening bearable for Kisame.

“Unless you’ve got space for me in that bed of yours, I’m afraid it’s my only option,” Kisame winked at you. You chuckled in embarrassment and ignored the obvious flirting, Itachi’s words echoing in the back of your mind.

“I’ll go bring out some blankets for you,” you smiled.

You scoured the house for every blanket you could fine, even considering removing the one on your own bed for Kisame. You piled them all on the ground and pushed some furniture aside to make room for the makeshift bed - it looked horrendous and uncomfortable, but you knew it was all you had. After all, it was either sleeping on the floor here or outside, where it would likely storm above them and destroy whatever shittily-built tent they had made. As you set up the bed, you had to remind yourself that you were currently housing two well-known killers. After spending the evening with them, it was hard to not feel compassion for the two - especially Kisame, who had somehow caught your interest.

“You did all this for me?” Kisame grinned at you playfully, his teeth reminding you once more that he was far more dangerous than you could ever realize. You nodded politely.

“I looted every closet in the house just for you, Kisame!”

After Itachi had entered the living room, Kisame took his leave to go get ready for bed. You were left alone with his partner, who took it upon himself to take a book off of your shelf in front of the fireplace and begin reading it on the couch. You noticed that he had also made himself a cup of green tea, and you wondered to yourself where he obtained the teabag from - you enjoyed tea, but green tea was the only one missing from your collection.

Kisame eventually returned from the bathroom, his attire having changed completely. Instead of the long and intimidating cloak he wore previously, he now wore a plain pair of grey sweatpants and a black tshirt. For the first time, you saw the rest of his body - his muscles were toned like no other you’d ever seen before, and the veins along his arm protruded just enough to catch your eye. A various amount of scars were also clear as day across his skin, hinting to a long history of kunai interception. All-in-all, though, Kisame was certainly very attractive.

You said your goodnights only a few minutes after Kisame returned, as you started to feel the effects of being awake so late. Your yawns became frequent enough that even Itachi had suggested you go to bed, and at that point, you were quick to listen to him. You shuffled down the hallway sleepily, said your goodnights, then promptly closed your door.

Two hours later, you awoke to a gentle knock at your door.

It was just loud enough to bring you out of your sleep, but certainly not concerning enough to fill you with any emotion besides the unfathomable rage you felt at being rudely awoken in the middle of the night for the second time.

“What?” You asked groggily as you opened the door, a hint of irritation very present in your voice.

“Sorry to wake you, sweetheart, but your floor is much harder than I thought it would be.”

Kisame’s voice penetrated your ears at a much louder volume than you liked, and you took a step back into your room. He continued talking. “Do you mind if I borrow some pillows?”

You sighed.

In your sleepy thoughts, you decided that the better course of action was to gently grab Kisames hand and drag him into the dark bedroom. You shut the door once more and then climbed into your own bed, pulling the covers aside for Kisame.

“Get in,” you mumbled, and Kisame remained standing at the door.

You glared at him, eyes barely open. “Get in before I change my mind and leave you to rot out there. I don’t have any more pillows.”

Kisame hesitantly climbed into the bed and pulled the covers over himself, careful not to disturb you in any way as he was already very aware that you were pissed off. When you rolled over and began hugging the blankets, though, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. You were already falling back asleep and clinging to a small stuffed animal in your arms.

“It’s so cold,” you muttered, and you scooted closer to Kisame. In the slowest movement possible, the man lifted the covers up and pulled them above you in an attempt to give you more heat. You shivered, though, and scooted closer. Your face was now almost buried in his side, and he couldn’t help but blush at the interaction. He silently thanked the heavens for the darkness. He decided it would be best if he rolled over so his back was facing you - this way, there was no chance that you would end up in a weird position.

He felt something pressing against his back and was about to turn around, but an arm snaked its away across his waist and rested loosely on his stomach. “Uh, Y/N,” he whispered, but you just hummed in response.

“Just go to sleep, Kisame, I’m too tired for this. You’re hot in many ways and I am fucking freezing, please just deal with it and shut up.”

Kisame chuckled to himself before he rolled back over, now confident in his ability after being given permission to touch you. He tapped you gently and pushed you a little as if in command to roll over, and you obliged. He then laid down fully and pulled you into his chest, now fully becoming the big spoon.

In the morning, you woke up to an empty bed. A piece of paper was sat on your nightstand, words written in horrible handwriting from your nighttime companion.

Y/N,

thank you for your hospitality.

and for your comfort.

we’ll be back in four days.

Kisame.

Four days later, you picked up some extra meat from the grocery store on your way home.

#kisame week 2022 #kisame hoshigaki #kisame hoshigaki one shot #kisame one shot #one shot #kisame x reader #kisame hoshigaki x reader #eyeles writing #eyeles-writing #akatsuki x reader #naruto x reader #naruto shippuden #naruto #fanfiction #kisame week #slice of life #established relationship

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themidnightguardian · 2 years

Text

Up to No Good

Naruto | Itachi/Kisame | mostly fluff and humor | Rating: T

warnings: mild mention of violence & wounds

Wherein Deidara is absolutely convinced Itachi is up to something, but that something is Kisame.

Itachi was a shifty character.

Sure, the Akatsuki in general was full of…unique individuals. For fuck’s sake, Pein-sama had six bodies, and Konan was like a papier-mâché piñata of nightmares. Hidan was a freak who got off on self-mutilation. Kakuzu had a money fetish. Sasori-danna was not only fucking wrong about the nature of art, but also had turned himself into a puppet. Kisame was probably the most normal one, and he was a whole ass man-shark who talked to his sword.

(Deidara was at least self-aware enough to know that his fascination with explosions—while indescribably cool, yeah—was not exactly a good indicator of sanity. But then, you had to be a little crazy to make good art.)

So yeah, the Akatsuki was full of fucked up freaks and that meant the definition of normal got a little twisted. But that didn’t change the fact that Itachi was shady as hell and clearly up to no good.

Oh, sure, he seemed fine most of the time—he was quiet, usually, and didn’t talk much, though when he did, it was straightforward and irritatingly polite, and he mostly kept to himself, and he was unflappable, and…

Anyway, as Deidara had already established, Akatsuki was full of weirdos. And because Itachi didn’t seem like a weirdo—aside from maybe being standoffish and socially awkward—that obviously meant that he was hiding something.

“Have you considered that you only think Itachi-san is up to no good because of your irrational and petty dislike of him?” Sasori asked blandly when Deidara shared his theory.

“It’s not about that,” Deidara snapped. When Sasori only turned to stare at him impassively—and Deidara could practically feel the judgment radiating off the other man—he continued. “He’s doing…stuff, hm. Suspicious stuff.”

“Suspicious stuff.” Sasori always spoke with the same apathetic tone, but Deidara had learned to read him even without intonations, and it was obvious that Sasori was less than impressed. “Don’t waste my time with this drivel.”

“I’ll just find proof, hm.”

A sigh. “Will that get you out of my workshop?”

“Yeah, obvious—”

“Good. Leave.”

Deidara rolled his eyes but conceded, knowing better than to push Sasori further when he was in a mood. Besides, he had an Uchiha to watch.

Whatever secrets you’re hiding, you bastard, I’ll figure them out.

Once Deidara really started thinking about it, the possibilities of what Itachi could be up to seemed endless. Was Itachi hiding some dark secret from his past? Was he being blackmailed? Was he blackmailing someone else? Was he working with someone outside Akatsuki in secret? Was he betraying them?

Maybe it was about the other Uchiha, Itachi’s little brother. The kid was with Orochimaru now, right? Were they in cahoots? Was it a scheme to take down Orochimaru? Or was it a scheme with Orochimaru to take down the Akatsuki?

Deidara hoped it was the latter. Maybe if Itachi was a traitor, Pein-sama would finally give Deidara permission to kill the Uchiha.

“Did you just say cahoots?” Sasori asked, right beside him as they walked down a road leading to some town in Tea where their next mission was. Almost as soon as the words had left his mouth, Sasori shook his head. “Never mind. I have no desire to know.” A pause. “And stop thinking out loud. It’s annoying.”

The more Deidara watched, the more apparent it was just how suspicious Itachi was acting. When they happened to be at the hideout at the same time, Itachi was never in the communal spaces except to eat and train. He disappeared like a ghost immediately after, and Deidara had no earthly idea where the Uchiha went. It wasn’t back to his room, that was for sure. Deidara had sent a few clay spiders in there just to scope it out, but they’d returned emptyhanded.

Which meant Itachi was sneaking off somewhere.

“Rendezvousing with the enemy,” Deidara explained eagerly to a significantly less eager Sasori.

“I will regret asking,” Sasori said surely, “but what enemy is Itachi-san meeting with in this nonsensical hypothetical?”

“That’s the real question, hm. It could be Orochimaru, or that other Uchiha brat, but you want to know what I think?”

“No.”

Deidara ignored him. “My money’s on Konoha.”

Sasori was quiet for a long moment, and then, “Were you born an idiot, or is this the result of continual exposure to volatile chemicals? Or perhaps brain damage from standing too close to explosions?”

“Sasori-danna, but it makes sense if you think about it!”

“It does not.”

“It does,” Deidara insisted. “How much do we really know about that Uchiha bastard’s past, hm? He’s pretty damned tight-lipped about the whole massacre thing—”

“Just because Itachi-san does not brag about his accomplishments like an attention-seeking child, does not make him a traitor.”

“—and you know how he avoids conflict otherwise—”

“I do not think Itachi-san avoids conflict so much as he is efficient and does not waste time with fights that serve no purpose. Something you could stand to learn from.”

“—I bet he’s been sent undercover in Akatsuki to report on us to those tree huggers in Konoha. It’s all a setup, yeah.”

“You have no evidence to suggest this is even remotely true,” Sasori said tiredly. “Cease with this useless conspiracy.”

“But that’s not all,” Deidara continued. “I think Kisame is in on it!”

Sasori’s head hit the top of his work desk with a heavy thunk.

The southern tip of Tea Country was hot and humid. The moisture clung to Deidara’s skin and clothes until everything was damp. Hell, even the spare clothes that had been tucked away in his pack were damp. Sasori-danna, being a fucking puppet and made out of fucking wood—at least primarily—wasn’t suffering the way that Deidara was, and that was un-fucking-fair.

(Sasori was suffering in other ways, like being subjected to fifteen rants a day on why Uchiha Itachi was a no-good, lying, cheating, treacherous son of a bitch. Not for the first time, Sasori wished he hadn’t given himself ears.)

The other thing that was un-fucking-fair was that they were set to meet up with Itachi and Kisame to travel to their next job in Wind Country.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just handle it ourselves,” Deidara muttered.

(For the twenty-seventh time, Sasori counted.)

“Shush, brat.”

“I mean, what can they do that we can’t—holy fuck, shhhhhhh.”

“I am not the one being obnoxiously loud—”

“Sasori-danna, look!”

Some ways ahead on the road, just outside the inn where they were set to meet, stood Itachi and Kisame. The two faced each other, heads bent close as they talked. It was impossible to hear the subject matter from such a distance, and it was equally impossible to see exactly what Kisame was looping around Itachi’s neck, but Deidara felt the rush of vindication none the less.

Sasori hummed. “Good. They’re on time.”

“No. I mean, yes, fine, but look. They’re conspiring.”

“They’re conversing. As partners do.” The armored body of Hiruko, Sasori’s puppet, glared up at Deidara. “As partners do when they are not having inane and unnecessary discussions about their colleagues.”

“I told you he was up to something—”

“This is absurd.”

“—and now that Uchiha shit-stain has involved Kisame too!”

“If you can’t behave, I will poison you and make Kisame-san carry you to Wind.” Deidara was silent in the face of that entirely plausible threat, and Sasori allowed himself a moment to enjoy the peace.

“Sasori-san. Deidara-san,” Itachi nodded politely in greeting as they approached. “We are ready to depart, unless you need a moment to rest.”

“Fuck you. We’re not some fucking pathetic weaklings,” Deidara spat. “We’ll leave now.”

Itachi—the utter asshole—just blinked. “As you say.”

Deidara was going to kill him.

“He’s got another ring!”

Sasori sighed. “What?”

“Itachi. He’s got another ring. This is proof!”

“Your argument is a logical fallacy,” Sasori droned. “The existence of a ring does not prove anything.”

Deidara rolled his eyes. “He could be using it to communicate with Konoha!”

“Yes, because rings of the variety that the Akatsuki possesses are so common.” Sasori glanced at Deidara from the corner of his eye. “Though it may prove difficult for you, please try to think before you open your mouth. It would save us both a tremendous amount of time.”

“I’m serious! That’s the only reason he would have it, yeah? He doesn’t wear other jewelry!”

“He wears a necklace.”

“Yeah, that the ring hangs on. I think that’s what Kisame gave him in Tea Country. They’ve probably both got—”

“In Tea Country?” Sasori interrupted. “Kisame-san gave it to him?”

“Yeah, I guess. When we met up with them for that last mission, hm. I knew something was up.”

“Ah.” Sasori’s face, despite being largely immovable, was making a complicated expression. “I see now.”

Deidara paused. “Wait. You finally believe me? That Itachi’s been up to something?”

Sasori, miracle of miracles, actually chuckled. “No. I am certain your conspiracies are quite far off from the truth.”

It wasn’t like Deidara wanted to be knocking on Kisame’s door at one in the morning, but he’d just returned from Lightning Country and Deidara’s arm had seen better days. It wasn’t the most serious injury he’d sustained, but the cut was deep enough to warrant stitches. It was bad luck that it was his dominant arm that was injured or else he’d have done it himself, bad luck that Kakuzu—who was unequivocally the best at stitches—was out somewhere in Water right now. If Deidara asked Sasori to patch him up, there was a 70% chance he’d just take off Deidara’s whole arm and build him a new one for the sake of future efficiency, and Deidara would rather chew off his entire arm himself than ask Itachi.

Which left Kisame. Who would probably laugh at him and call him a baby for needing help with something so minor, but at least he’d probably help.

And because it was one in the morning, because Deidara was injured and exhausted and miserable, he was extremely confused when Itachi answered the door. In a pale blue yukata that was loose around the chest. A very chiseled chest. And—

“Holy shit, did you get mauled? What the fuck?” Deidara said, his brain to mouth filter non-functional. There, at the crook between Itachi’s shoulder and neck, sat the biggest fucking bite mark Deidara had ever seen. A bunch of smaller ones littered his clavicle and lower half of his throat, others peeking out at the edge of his yukata, all in varying shades of red, pink, and purple.

One part of Deidara’s brain was stuck on the fact that Itachi was covered in hickeys. Another part wondered just how far the love bites went down. Yet another part noticed that Itachi was blushing faintly, just the barest hint of pink across his cheeks. A fourth part suddenly remembered that he had knocked on Kisame’s door.

Deidara spluttered.

“Is there something you need, Deidara-san?”

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?

“YOU AND KISAME??????” he blurted out, entirely against his will.

And then, emotionless bastard Uchiha Itachi smirked.

“What the fuck’s with all the noise?” a lower, raspier voice grumbled approximately two seconds before Kisame’s larger body filled the door frame.

“You’re…you guys are…what the fuck,” Deidara mumbled to himself. “Is this a fever dream?”

Kisame nudged Itachi softly and with obvious affection. “Did you put him in one of your fucked up genjutsus?”

Itachi shook his head even as he leaned back against Kisame’s chest. “He came like this.”

“You’re fucking,” Deidara whispered, mostly to himself although it was perfectly audible in the otherwise empty hallway.

Kisame grinned. “Yep.”

Deidara suddenly remembered with an unwelcome clarity the fact that Kisame had given Itachi a ring.

“You’re engaged.”

Itachi’s smirk grew, if only marginally. “Married.”

“What the fuck.”

“You’re bleeding,” Kisame pointed out. “Like, a lot.”

Deidara blinked. Right. His arm. No fucking way was he going to sit in the room where they’d obviously just…ugh. His gag reflex was activating at the thought. Without another word, he turned and trudged back towards Sasori’s room. He’d probably yell at Deidara for bleeding all over his floor, but on the plus side, maybe he could bribe Sasori for the good anesthetic that would knock him out for the next twelve hours.

Maybe he has something that will bleach my brain.

“Sasori, you won’t fucking believe what Itachi—”

“I am begging you, please stop telling me things.”

#kisaita #akatsuki #naruto #sasori #deidara #hoshigaki kisame #uchiha itachi #fanfic

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historicfailure · 10 months

Text

Work Under Water

7. Chapter: Springtide

The date is going well, but you're still feeling insecure. Luckily for you, you decide to voice your insecurities and Kisame is more than happy to proof them wrong.

~ X ~

Heya! Welcome back! This is... a monster of a chapter. It's 18 pages long, I sat last night down and finished it, thus why the ending might be a bit lazy. I'm just happy I finished this fic by now. Sorry for this half-assed attempt, I hope you guys still like it.

~ X ~

You didn’t speak with Kisame on the way to the small, secret spot. As you reached it, you started to prepare the blanket, spreading it over the ground and smoothening down the edges endlessly, even though they were without any wrinkles almost from the get-go. Your thoughts were still clouded when a real shadow fell upon you and your hands, still busying themselves with stroking slowly over the rough fabric.

“Hey there.” For a moment, Kisame towered over you. His body shielded you from the sun, but then he kneeled beside you and reached for one of your hands. A small sigh escaped you as his fingers slid over the back of your hand, only to slip into the spaces between your fingers. “All good?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Still, you couldn’t look up into his eyes.

“Something is wrong, though.”

“Damn, you.” A weak smile flashed over your face. “So perceptive.”

He hummed. “I’m getting better. For example, I think you still have some reservations.”

“That’s…” You breathed in, breathed out. I can do this. “That’s an understatement.”

“Need more proof?”

“No, I mean… yes.” At his teasing tone, you had to laugh. Just a bit, nothing more than a short giggle, quickly wiped away by the anxiety curling deep down inside your stomach. “It’s just… I want to believe that you’re into me. I really do. It’s just… so unbelievable.”

“Eloquent and straight to the point. I knew why I liked you.”

“See?” Helplessly, you shrugged, all the while your free hand continued to wring itself into the blanket. “I’m… I’m an anxious mess about this. About relationships. If that is even what this is, because I have no idea if that is what you have in mind. Maybe, you just want to sleep with me once and wash your hands off of me. Which, for the record,” you breathed again in, even though the tears already burned in your eyes, “I would be totally fine with.”

“Woah, there, there. Calm your horses. I definitely don’t want this to be a one-time-thing. Do you?”

“No,” you admitted, so quietly that the faraway engine of a boat nearly overwhelmed your voice, “I… I want this to last longer than that.”

“See?” Ever so gently, Kisame pulled at your hand. Pulled and pulled, right to the point he got up and pulled you up with him. In his shadow, it was easy to lean into him to look up, right into his face.

He seemed calm. Calm and collected, despite the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. One hand was still holding yours, the other came up to wipe a wisp of your hair away from your sweaty temple. “I really want to get to know you better. I really want this to last. I really, really want to kiss you again, and be kissed by you.”

“But…” The single word slipped out before you could stop it. In real time, you could see how that single syllable confused the man. His eyebrows drew together, the smile faded away, and his jaw tensed just for a split second, before loosening up again.

No use in backing down now. So, you breathed in and finished the sentence. “But do you find me attractive? Like, really, really attractive?”

Your voice shook a bit as you spoke. For a second longer, you were able to look into his face, only for your eyes to drop to his collarbones. Way safer than to look into his eyes, which seemed to bore through your facade and right into your soul.

Not for long though. Suddenly, his hands slipped away, away from your hand and your face. Without a word, they wandered down your body. You bit your bottom lip as they explored the soft curves of your chest, barely avoiding indecency by merely cupping the side of your boobs. A teasing thumb swiped up and down, only for the hands to slip further down.

Your body turned into stone. Pliable, hot, wanting stone, unable to move and to an extent also unwilling to move even an inch as Kisame’s hands teased and hinted, sliding over your clothes like he wanted to memorize the shape of your body for all eternity. They stopped briefly at your hips, the lovehandles somehow perfectly fitting into the plane of his palm. Then, with a huff ghosting over your hair, Kisame continued to touch you. Sensual and, as you dared to glance upwards, with half-lidded eyes and a tilted grin again on his face, he bent ever so slightly forward to draw small circles on the top of your thighs. His index finger followed the hem of your shirt, which had barely touched your skin. From the outside over the apex, only to inch dangerously close to the inside of your thigh.

You nearly choked at a single breath. Subconsciously, you gripped into his upper arms, not wanting him to stop but acutely aware of your surroundings. Sure, you were all alone here, but there were still people around. On the lake, on their boats…

“That here,” Kisame suddenly breathed into your ear, “is real. This is not your imagination. And I want you. So, so much. I’m just trying to be a nice guy here.”

“And what if you don’t try to be a nice guy?”

He closed his eyes and sighed loudly. “You don’t want to hear that.”

Your fingers on his arms tightened. “Maybe I do.”

His eyes snapped open. Your eyes locked. Locked and couldn’t let go as he stared into your soul, searching, hunting and coming up with something he would work with. The corner of his mouth quirked higher, revealing the hint of pearly-white teeth and badly hidden mischief.

“Then let me tell you something, babe.”

You only had the hint of a warning, in the way the corners of his mouth quirked up. His massive hands grabbed the back of your thighs and pulled. Lifted you upwards, still grinning and obviously reveling in the surprised squeal you let out. Your arms automatically wrapped themselves around his shoulders, holding onto for your dear life. But fuck, if him lifting you up easily into his arms wasn’t hot, you didn’t know what else was.

You were wrong, as you realized quickly when Kisame spoke up again. “Since the moment I saw you,” a quick kiss was pressed to your lips, just a hint of toe-curling passion and lava-hot lust, “I wanted to bury myself inside you. Fuck, you and your curves. Everything about you screams to be ravished.”

Heat rose into your face. Sure, you had read one too many steamy novels and fanfic where characters talked like that, but to experience it first hand… Especially as it was directly aimed at you! For the first time ever in your life, someone talked like that about and with you!

Kisame continued, ignoring how you squirmed and wiggled in his grip, his hands as secure and safe as a baby’s cradle as he held you against him easily. “Not one day passed since I saw you in which I didn’t have to stop myself from jerking off to you. Sometimes,” his grin widened, turned cheeky and almost devilish, “I came so hard that I didn’t have the strength to get up and clean myself afterwards. I would just lay there, cum spread all over my stomach and my own dick still twitching and wanting more. More of you, babe.”

“Oh god, Kisame…”

Him breathing heavily, chest heaving with spurts and splutters of white ribbons painted upon his skin. One hand fisted into the sheets of the bed, the other still loosely curled around his still painfully hard cock. Face flushed, eyes half-lidded, a satisfied smile drawn upon his features as his body relaxed into the afterglow.

Fuck, you wanted to see for yourself so, so badly.

“Seeing you in your bathing suit was torture. Sweet, sweet torture and cruel heaven”, he continued. Without even a grunt, he hoisted you up higher, to the point your face was hovering slightly above his and your throbbing crotch rubbed with every breath against his rock hard abs. Another quick kiss, merely breathed to your mouth, only for him to lean backwards to take your features in without any obstruction. “I dream about your tits, your stomach, your thighs. You’re so soft all around. This here,” his grip on your upper thighs tightened, “and this,” his chest bumped into yours, “and especially this,” his hands slipped just the tiniest bit higher, teasing the curve of your ass before quickly securing his grip once more, “begs for me to kiss and mark you all over. When we start, I’m going to take my sweet time with you, babe. Because you’re sexy, beautiful inside and out, and so damn worth it.”

“And what about now?”

The words slipped out so fast you had no time to hold them back. You cursed yourself for that; your hormonal, horny, mesmerized self, totally entranced by Kisame’s description of you, as well as your drenched middle screaming at you to give in.

“Now?” One of his eyebrows wandered up. Then, he turned his head, eyes wandering over the wide open lake and the possible watchers out there. “Right now?”

“Not if you don’t want to.” Something wild and crazy possessed you; born out of years of neglect and the newly awakened flame burning deep down inside your stomach. Your skin tingled all over, in all the spots your body was pressed against the hard planes of his. You could feel his every move: Kisame’s chest heaving as he swallowed thickly, a little shift in his stance to distribute your weight better, and his hands gripping a bit tighter into your ass, holding you harder against him.

Like he didn’t want to let go.

Your heart fluttered a bit at the thought. The wings of a butterfly, vibrating against your ribs like it wanted to escape and fly up into the sun. Kisame’s face never had been closer, and as he turned around to look into your eyes again, you could inspect every little detail. The sharp edge of his jaw, just a hint of beard-shadow. The little creases around his eyes as he showed off his trademark-smirk, just enough of a smile to not look douchey — at least, not by much. A thin line of sweat rolled down his temple, glittering under the sunlight and a temptation to just follow with your finger.

Kisame breathed in, the wings of his nose fluttering weakly. “Babe. Fuck. I didn’t want to do it like this… but you have two choices.”

The knot in your stomach tightened further. Biting your lower lip, you grinded your body against him, relishing in the groan he buried deep in his throat. “Yes?”

His eyes sparkled with the same storm of feelings “The forest… or the back of my car.”

For a few moments, you didn’t realize what Kisame offered there. Then, the lust crashed into you with the weight of a freight truck. Nothing but the deep-seated crave to be close to him, to feel him, to know how it was to be touched by him existed.

“Hey.” His eyes flashed down to your lips, only to flicker back up. All in a split second. “It’s your choice. All yours. I will just follow your lead.”

A decision. Your choice. Suddenly, it was way hotter than before. The possibilities of the very near future were both so very tempting. Laid out in the back of the truck, hasty hands ripping at flimsy, sweaty clothing, or your back pressed against the rough bark, scratching ever so slightly over your skin as he pumped-!

“The forest,” you said before you could stop yourself, “just… I can’t wait.”

Kisame chuckled as he already started to move. “You don’t know how relieved I am to hear that.”

His steps were strong and measured as he continued his way, his eyes intently set on your face. There was no doubt on his own, not an inkling of a shadow. Just honest adoration, and for once, without the self-doubts clouding your mind, you were able to see clearly. All too eagerly, you let your hands wander. Over his shoulders, contracting under your touch. Over his neck, adoring every little muscle. Your fingers wandered over his jaw line, just before the boldness inside you boiled over, and you leaned forward to press a small kiss to his cheek. And another, right beside the first one. Your lips moved on their own, mouthing the rough skin with the small pricks of growing stubble. He tasted of summer; heat, sweat and a bit of sunscreen. It was addictive, so much so that you weren’t willing to stop. Not at all, mouthing more and more bites onto his skin, hungrily devouring every centimeter of him, until Kisame groaned loudly into your ear.

“Fuck, babe. You’re killing me. Give me just a few more seconds,” he groaned. The hands on your ass flexed, eager and more than willing to touch every single part of you. “You’re torturing me.”

“Says the right person. You know exactly how good you look shirtless.”

“Oh? Have you been watching me?”

“Every time you swing your ass into the lake to drag a bunch of rowdy kids out of the water,” you admitted, “I’m watching. Very closely. Just like the rest of the beach-goers.”

Kisame’s smile could have turned the desert itself into an ocean. “I don’t care about the others. The only pair of eyes which matters to me is yours.” He thought for a moment, only to chuckle. “And the rest of you. Your ass is mine.”

Without you noticing, Kisame had already reached the forest and stepped into the cooler shadows. His steps were light and easy, and his arms didn’t tremble one bit despite your weight. Only when he stopped, you broke the intense eye contact.

When you spotted a nearby tree, a mighty oak with a trunk wide enough to accommodate you, Kisame spoke up.

“Is that okay for you?”

Just for a moment, you hesitated. Then, you nodded. “It’s perfect.”

Kisame laughed. “Thank fuck. Watch out, babe.”

Only the hint of a warning, but you reacted out of instinct. Carefully, he let you down, teasingly letting your body slide across his torso. Every hard ridge and bump made you close your eyes and pray that he couldn’t feel the overbearing heat of your skin. As you felt the ground beneath your feet, you stayed close to him. Tilting your head up in a silent invitation, you looked up at him. And thankfully, Kisame understood.

His lips claimed yours once more. It was so easy to forget about everything else. The possibility of getting caught out here in the woods, the chance of being seen from the water, the still lurking doubt. Kisame swept everything away; a big wave crashing into you and drowning everything else out.

Your hands clawed into the sweaty fabric of his shirt. Fingernails scratched over his abs, while his hands cupped your face. His mouth opened, and together with a weak groan, hushed words brushed over your mouth and chin.

“Fuck… fuck.” He pressed those two words out like a curse, but you just knew that nothing could be farther from the truth. Not a curse, but a plea. The kiss stopped for just a moment, in which both of your breath’s mingled, mixed, intertwined. Only for his lips to descend upon yours again. The hunger was evident in every careful swipe of his tongue, every greedy move of his lips, every eager finger pulling you close; closer to him. You were hungry for him too. Your lips parted for him, for his taste and his scent, his very essence.

Rough bark pressed into your back. With a low grumble, Kisame pulled back, only to pepper more kisses down your neck.

The feeling of his lips on your skin like this sent small bursts of raw lightning through you. Your hands threaded themselves into his hair, tried to drag him where you wanted, no, needed him the most.

You could feel his chuckle more than you could hear it, buried in the curve of your shoulder. “Fuck. You know what I like, huh?”

“For sure,” you breathed out, barely able to think straight, “but why don’t you remind me again?”

“Someone who reacts to everything I do with them,” just to prove a point, his lips nibbled along your clavicle, and your fingers gripped harder into his scalp, “someone who clings to me like their life depends on it, and someone who wants me so much they get vocal about it.”

A little whimper vibrated in your throat. He was so close that his hard dick pressed against you. Even within the restraints of his pants, you could feel the molten heat as well as the size against your soft stomach. You writhed against him, whining deep within your throat. The lust and need clawed at your insides, desperate to break free. You never felt like this before: being utterly consumed by the feelings wrecking havoc, and Kisame was the promise of relief and peace.

He understood. Without a word, he came up to look into your eyes, while his hands slowly descended upon your clothes. Carefully, almost reverent in their care, he pushed your shirt upwards. When the fabric revealed your stomach, you had to close your eyes for a second, but a hoarse whisper made them snap open once more.

“No. Look at me. Look at me, (Y/N).”

And you did. Even though your pulse fluttered as more and more as your stomach was revealed to him, you kept your eyes open. Out of instinct, you sucked the air in to flatten your stomach.

He didn’t laugh nor did he chuckle. Thankfully, you probably would have burst into tears if he did that. No, Kisame instead cupped your face with one hand. The other was still curled around the hem of your shirt, his knuckles dragging over your stomach with exquisite, terrifying little tremors.

“I want you,” he said simply, “I want you so much it hurts.”

“I want you, too,” you whispered, “but… I don’t know if you will look at me the same way if you see me… like this.”

“Then, maybe…” He stepped backwards, and you nearly would have begged him to come back closer. But as his own hands curled around the hems of his open shirt, suddenly, all the worrisome thoughts vanished. You weren’t opposed to Kisame stripping some of his clothes completely off. Not at all.

Before, you didn’t have the nerves to openly ogle at his wide and muscular chest. Just fleeting glances up to close or some lingering ones from afar. But as he bared himself completely in front of you, accompanied by the teasing slowness of someone who liked to be watched, you stared, studied and watched carefully.

His knuckles graced ever so slightly over his chest as he pulled at the fabric. One shoulder slipped free, nothing more than a bit more of his skin on display. Nevertheless, your heart stuttered for a second. Your breath as well, rasping over your lips in a silent “Haah…” as Kisame’s arm slid out of the short sleeve. He stopped, grinned, and let his arm flex to tease you even more. His biceps swelled beneath the skin. You could easily believe now that he was able to carry you without a problem.

“I guess you like what you see.” Not a question, not by a long shot. Just a simple statement, and yet he managed to make you feel silly for ogling him that much. Before you could turn away, his now free arm rose and a big, calloused hand captured your chin with care and gentleness.

“Do not,” Kisame’s eyes flickered again down your body, touching you with his mere look, “do not think for a moment that I’m not affected by you. Do not think I’m embarrassed by you being affected by me. It’s one of the best compliments for me to see how much you want me.”

The rest of his Hawaiian shirt fluttered to the ground, without any preamble. Carefully, you peaked again at him, letting your eyes roam freely over his skin. Your mouth ran dry at the sight of his perfectly sculpted upper body. But even more tempting was the sight below the waistband, and when your eyes followed the lines of his body downwards, you just had to gasp at the sight.

“See?” Kisame palmed the distinct bulge in his swimming shorts. “This is all your doing.”

“I haven’t done anything, though.”

“Believe me, you being all over me is more than enough.” He paused for a heartbeat, only to step closer. So close, the bulge nearly brushed against you.

Your brain couldn’t form a single coherent thought. All of your attention was drawn to his hard dick, clearly visible even beneath the thicker fabric of his shorts.

“And?” His breath ghosted over the top of your head. “I showed you mine, you show me yours?”

“So, that was what you were going for.” And it had somehow the desired effect. You wanted to be closer to him, even more so now. He made himself clear, again and again, was patient and kind, to the point it almost hurt. Another glance towards the insistent bulge in his shorts, only to look into his face again. Accompanied by his intense eyes, you curled your hands into the hems of your own shirt. Still, you paused for another long moment, in which you could listen to Kisame’s labored breathing. Just a tad bit faster than usual, just a little bit heavier than you were used to. And it let the flames in your stomach flare up like a wildfire.

Shortly, you were blinded by your own shirt as you pulled it over your head. Then, you were bare, apart from the bikini top. Nothing fancy, something which could actually support you, but it was still so much riskier than any of the other swimsuits you had already worn in his proximity.

He stared at you. You tried not to squirm too much, but only when he shook his head weakly, all the while his eyes still roamed up and down your body, you froze into place.

Then, a grin appeared on his face. “Fuck. You’re even prettier than I thought.”

Calloused fingertips brushed over your stomach. You gasped, the air nearly punched out of you, but then the touch was already gone.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, and yet, the offending hand was still flexing weakly, like he wanted to touch you again, “I just… can’t believe it.”

“Me neither.” Despite your joking tone, you nearly jerked away when he moved. But he didn’t touch your stomach, just reached out to one of your hands, dangling by your side. “There,” he placed your hand on his chest, right above his sternum, “then we’re even.”

The moment was clearly special. You could feel it in the air, a constant thrum of shy awareness and unbridled lust. Still, you wanted — needed — to keep things slow, as you didn’t want to overwhelm yourself and turn him away. And fuck, you would be insane to turn Kisame away.

Your hand flattened against his chest. Your fingers stretched out, and still seemed so small in comparison to the rest of him. His skin was warm and slightly wet, either residue of water or a faint sheen of sweat constantly coating him. On anyone else, you would’ve found that prospect slightly disgusting, but on Kisame, you found yourself… intrigued.

Would it be weird to suddenly lick all over him?

Of course, it would be salty? Or would there be something else?

Fuck, that is way too horny. Way, way too horny.

But you couldn’t help it. With your heart beating like a drum, you leaned forward, glancing up at the man as you did so. His eyes were blown-wide as he probably pieced together what you were doing, but he didn’t stop you. Didn’t stop the contact of your lips with his chest, just held still as you dared to explore his chest with your hand and mouth alike.

Probably the most daring thing you ever did. Honestly, you were surprised yourself that you did something like this, so bold and confident and so unlike yourself, but when you started to gently nibble at his skin, every other thought was pushed away.

Salt. Some sunscreen, and a hint of the lake-water, all mixed together with a faint whiff of deep, heavy cologne you couldn’t quite name. A small moan vibrated in the back of your throat as you continued to map out the plane of his chest, edging higher and higher. When you couldn’t go up anymore, you had to stand on your tip-toes to reach further, and even that didn’t help much.

Kisame’s hands grabbed your waist. Your own arms came up and steadied yourself against the man, while your mouth continued to suck and nibble along the skin you could reach. Your mind reeled with all the new sensations; everything seemed so much more and vibrant: his heat enveloping you, the feeling of his fingers flexing against your waist, his bulge pressing into your stomach.

When you couldn’t stand on your toes any longer, your mouth slowly wandered down again. Your lips brushed over his pebbled nipple, circled it, peppered small kisses all around the sensitive skin. Just shy of completely touching it.

His hands on your waist tightened. Just a bit, but together with the first loud sigh from him, told you enough. “Do it,” he hoarsely whispered, the rasp in his throat sending shivers down your spine. “Fuck, please. Do it.”

Well, when he’s asking so nicely…

How could I refuse?

Ever so carefully, you kissed the skin right above the nipple. Then, just after another small glance into his face, you allowed your lips to close around the pebbled nub. Your teeth scraped over his skin, feeling some small hairs the razor missed against your tongue, before flicking the nub with the very tip.

Kisame outright moaned. Looking up, you could merely see the juncture of his neck and head, as he had thrown his head back and clearly enjoyed the sensations of your mouth. And fuck, if that wasn’t an ego boost, you had no idea what else would. It made you smile, with your heart lurching into your throat, only to go back and lick and suck at the nipple over and over. Your tongue dragged over the nub, lapping at it like a thirsty dog. Kisame trembled, but just buried his face in your hair. His breath felt humid in your hair, but you were only dimly aware of that fact. Feeling the man tremble ever so slightly because of your actions was a way stronger drug than you anticipated.

When fingers gently wrapped around the back of your neck, you moaned against his chest. His grip was the slightest bit possessive, a hint of desperation, and maybe just a tiny bit painful. He was strong, after all, and his mind was probably gone due to your tongue still playfully flicking over his nipple. At least, you hoped so.

Your teeth gently closed around the nub. Before you knew it, you tugged at the skin, and you swore you could feel his cock pulse against your lower stomach.

Kisame’s groan rumbled through his chest, so powerful it rocked your entire body to its core. “Fuck. Fuck, babe. You’re killing me.”

“Hopefully not.” Cheeky as you felt, you laid a kiss onto the other nipple, not yet puckered and wet with your spittle. “I still want you in a different way.”

“And I definitely want you in any other way.” Kisame groaned as you started to lavish the other nipple with your attention: licking, nibbling and gentle biting to tease and rile him up further. Such an aphrodisiac you had never experienced. Heady confidence encompassed your mind, like a heavy fog urging you forward.

More. More of his taste, more of his sounds, more of his touches. More, all of it.

I need him. Fuck, I need him so much.

I need to, I have to…

Before you could lean more into him, reach more and more of his skin with your hands and lips, Kisame sighed heavily. His fingers gently closed around your wrists, forcing you to wake from your lust-driven stupor.

“My turn,” he stated. His voice was thick and heavy, just like his cock promised to be. Your breath hitched when he let go of your wrists, the fingertips sliding down the inside of your arm. A shudder wandered down your back. His touch was so tentative. His fingers explored your skin like he wanted to commit every minute detail to his memory. Down from your wrist to your elbow, where he lingered, drawing the lines and watching your reactions.

You tried not to react too much, but his touch tingled. Tingled like the greatest fireworks going off right below the surface. It just took a few seconds to simply break, and a gasp slid out between your lips, and you had to close your eyes to try and control yourself from not simply sinking to your knees.

Mhm. Maybe not such a bad idea.

Kisame’s fingers didn’t stop. They circled lower, down to the wrists, feeling your heightened pulse beneath his fingertips. He waited, enjoyed, grumbled lowly, only for his hands to jump over to your hips. His big, strong hands which spread over the curve of your hips.

“You fit so perfectly,” the words ghosted over your face, warm breath and the scent of lightly sour sweat embracing you, “and feel so fucking good.”

His hands squeezed. In the sweltering summer heat, everything felt like it was too much. You shouldn’t try to bury yourself in Kisame’s wide chest, you should be disgusted by the nearly possessive touch of his hands, you should be nervous about him feeling your soft, squishy, fat body up. But you tried, and you weren’t, and you felt the tiniest bit confident as Kisame obviously reveled in the feel of your body in his palms.

You almost didn’t notice when his fingers slid towards your stomach, but when a curious index finger followed a few stretch marks on your stomach, you breathed sharply in. In comparison to before, this wasn’t a quick slide, but a careful exploration. And also in comparison, you held still instead of reflexively pushing the offending hand away. Even though it was hard, you didn’t move a muscle as Kisame’s hands moved further inward, further toward your stomach and all the fat you carried around. His thumbs met, over the dip of your belly button as our heart beat so loud in your chest, you believed it to jump straight through your rib cage out in the open.

Due to the proximity, you could hear him swallow. “Please, let me… I want to make you feel so good, babe.”

You were pretty sure he was talking about something more than the petting you both were indulging in. And before you even realized it, you nodded, unable to speak as your tongue was suddenly glued to the roof of your mouth.

Kisame’s entire face lightened up. “Fuck, yes. Right now, yes?”

“Yes…?”

“Are you sure?”

When you thought you had the man all figured out, he surprised you all over. Out of the few sexual encounters, no man ever really had seemed to care about your level of comfort. Then why did you feel so much better out here in the middle of a forest, with the risk of being spotted by innocent passerbys, than in the bed of one of those past men you slept with?

You nodded. A conscious, easy decision, and seeing Kisame’s face light up like the sun itself only reassured you in your decision. So, his fingers sneaking down the band of your bikini bottoms didn’t come as much of a surprise. Still, you sucked the air in as you felt them curl around the fabric, only to tuck gently at it. Despite everything, despite his reassurance and you feeling secure with him, you couldn’t help it.

He instantly paused. You could feel his body tense as he tried to make out what went wrong, where he went wrong. Then, he breathed through his nose, nothing but an airy puff of air ghosting over your temple, followed by his mouth pressing a sweet peck right where his breath had hit your skin just seconds before.

“‘s okay,” he whispered, “we can always stop. Just say a word and I will-!”

“No, don’t stop. I just…” Another kiss was breathed to your temple, and you nodded. “I just need… a bit longer.”

“Okay.” The fingers withdrew from your bikini bottoms, but stayed close enough to stay on your mind. A threat or a promise, one of the two, and you had to figure out what his touch would do to you quickly. Otherwise, he might be gone within a split second. So, you closed your eyes and breathed, breathed the man in and his very essence. Your fingers gripped his upper arms tighter, knuckles white and hard when his fingers lowered themselves again, carefully toying with the band of your bikini bottoms. Kisame advanced with all the carefulness of the world. Even though your stomach quivered with every featherlight touch, you allowed him to touch you, destroying every single one of the boundaries you subconsciously set for yourself in the gentlest way possible.

First, he drew line after line around your stomach. Always careful, he followed the hem of your bikini bottoms around your body, happy to indulge himself in such a simple, mindless activity. His breath crashed in harsher and harsher waves against your sweat-stained neck. You could feel some of his jitters against your own body, born out of restlessness and eagerness to go forth, but waiting. Waiting for you.

Pressing your eyes closed, you nodded. Nodded again when his fingers halted, just right above your ass. More trembles you could feel, only for the man to breathe out in sheer and utter relief.

“Thank you. God, you’re…”

His hands instantly sneaked below the band of your bikini bottoms, not caring about your squeal of surprise or your instinctual scramble of limbs. That only led you more into his embrace, pressed against his chest, and against his hard dick.

Kisame chuckled at the look of wide eyes on your face. “Gotta say, babe, your ass feels just perfect.” Another squeal fell from your lips as he squeezed your flesh, thumbs digging into your butt cheeks. “If I weren’t so damn horny for you right now, I might have been tempted to take a little bite.”

A brief flash of his goddamned perfect teeth made you weak in the knees. This man and his charm would be the death of you, for sure. The only thing you could do was pay him back and forward, somehow.

“Perhaps there is a chance for that later”, you whispered back. The pleasure of seeing his pupils narrow in on your lips at your words, followed by a third squeeze of your ass, was more than enough.

“I’m counting on that promise. For now though,” he breathed harshly in, “how about we… get a bit more undressed?” His fingers, still caught beneath the fabric of your bikini bottoms, wiggled around.

After a moment of hesitation, you nodded. Slowly, but full of knowledge that Kisame was there for you for every step of this journey. The eagerness burning through the nervousness deep down in your stomach helped as well, as you allowed Kisame to slip your bikini bottoms over the curve of your hips and down to your legs. Halfway down, the fabric just slid down your legs, exposing your ass and everything else to the sweltering summer air.

There wasn’t much time to feel nervous. Your own hands only trembled a little bit when you reached for the strings and waistband of Kisame’s swimming shorts. Feeling his sweaty skin beneath your fingertips, you allowed yourself to stray a little bit.

It’s just so goddamn tempting.

Just a little bit, okay?

You had never been with a guy like Kisame before: so muscular that he could model for a sport’s magazine. So, your fingers of course had to follow the sharp V of his hip bones, feeling the roughness of the skin as well as watching how the man sucked sharply some air in at the tentative touches. Looking up, you found his eyes already intensely studying your face. A small flash of his teeth, and he leaned back against the tree. The back of his head hit the bark, exposing his neck in a silent invitation.

Touch me more, if you want. Right now, I only belong to you.

You bit your lips at the gesture. Thus, letting your hands quickly drift lower felt right, ghosting over the tented fabric of the shorts, only to nestle with the strings of the shorts. And even though he looked absent-minded and detached, Kisame’s hands joined yours, helped to push and shove and pull the obscuring fabric out of the way.

The freed erection sprung out of the shorts. You gasped, one hand flying to your mouth at the sheer size of the dick. Every little detail about it seemed so important, illuminated in the hot summer air: cleanly shaven, circumcised, the head already weeping translucent tears which had dried previously in his shorts, only to now roll down the entire shaft. Big and obviously heavy, the cock curved ever so slightly to the left. Way bigger than you had ever seen before.

Would that even… I mean, I’m pretty sure I can close one hand around him, but just… barely.

Does he even fit into any condoms?

“Don’t worry,” Kisame’s dark rumble made you tear your eyes away from a few more spurts of pre rolling down the heavy cock, “I will prepare you thoroughly for this.”

“We don’t have…” You swallowed thickly as you stared at his cock, heavy and oh so tempting, trying to find your voice and thoughts alike. “You don’t happen to have some protection on you?”

Every movement of Kisame stopped. That alone said more than enough, but when he groaned like a wounded animal and let his face fall into the crook of your neck, you knew for sure.

His mouth moved against your skin, his muffled voice tickling ever so slightly. “I’m almost tempted to say fuck it and ask if you want it raw, but even though I can be an asshole, I’m not that kind of asshole.”

“Very good to know. And very responsible.” You chuckled weakly as you felt his huff against your neck.

“Fuck responsibility. For weeks now, I’ve dreamed of getting inside you and staying in there until I’m completely spent. And now, when I’m so close…” Another sigh breathed across your skin, then Kisame snuggled even closer. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, indeed,” you echoed. “But…”

Kisame paused. Every muscle in his body went taut; rock-hard against yours. A wolf, ready to pounce onto his prey at any second. “But?”

“I mean, I’m not sure if I could fit you in my mouth…”

“And I would never ask for that.”

“Mhm, I also need time for that certain endeavor. But right now, I definitely want to see you cum.” The words were out before you even realized what you were saying. With your face growing warm, you held Kisame’s look as you said: “I at least want to see what you did to yourself when you thought about me.”

He hummed, eyes scanning your face intently. “Aw, you can say it. Then I might make good on my promise to eat you up. Because I cannot wait to taste you, babe.”

You were pretty sure he was teasing you. Still, you had to gather all your courage first before you formed the fateful demand you had. “I want to watch while you fuck my hand, thinking about me. I want to watch you come undone. I want you to cum all over yourself.”

A deep, wounded groan erupted from the man, and he closed his eyes again as he leaned harder against the tree. “Babe, that was… holy fuck. When you’re like this… I nearly came right then and there.”

That Kisame was already this close, and nearly reached its peak just because you stated what you wanted from him loud and clear, let another powerful rush wash over you. Every cell in your body burned, sung, vibrated in its eagerness to get on with it.

Fuck.

Indeed.

So, Kisame liked it when you were confident? Hiding behind the nervousness was easier, but at the same time… you wanted to give this man so much back. He had been calm, reassuring, so benevolent in all of his actions, that you wanted desperately to give him just a fraction of the pleasure he had given you already. So, you swallowed your nerves down, stepped forward, and wrapped your hand around his twitching dick.

The gasp you elicited from him was music to your ears. But even more than the wonderfully strained sounds he let out, you were interested in the cock in the grasp of your hand.

There was no other word for it. The few you had seen so far really didn’t measure up to the word “cock” anymore. Big and heavy, it laid in your hands. You could feel the veins against your skin, running right below his. The head was weeping still; more and more pre spilling over the top of the purple-ish crown and coating your hand.

You had to test the waters. Carefully, you let your hand drift from the middle up to the head of Kisame’s cock. His body strained, obviously trying not to move, as you took your sweet time to torture him a little bit. Reaching the tip, you let your thumb run over the little slit, the source of all the wetness, spreading it more and more around with slow, deliberate motions across the sensitive spot. Back and forth, just back and forth and enjoying the twitches you could feel in your palm.

“Enjoying yourself, babe?” Kisame asked. For a moment, you thought he sounded like always: a bit cocky, lots of confidence, and incredibly calm. Though, as your thumb continued swiping across the head of his cock, you could see some changes. There was a flush spread across his face, just along the lines of his cheekbones and over the bridge of his nose. A rasp distorted his words the tiniest bit, the soft grumble making a shiver wander down your spine. And his eyes, half-lidded and slightly unfocused, were still fixated on you like his life depended on it.

“Kinda”, you answered. Ever so gently, you let your thumb run another circle around the head, before luxuriating in the feeling of the entire cock twitching in your grasp as you stroked downward. Kisame gasped, and a smile broke out on your face. “On second thought, I really enjoy this.”

“Good.” The man laughed hoarsely, only to moan at your continued touches. “Because I won’t make it for long. I clearly waited too long for this.” But Kisame grinned at you; a tired, breathless, deliriously happy grin. He hadn’t wanted it any other way, even if it might have not been the way he planned today to go.

And honestly, you also wouldn’t want it any other way. You didn’t have any expectations towards this day, at least not high ones. Surviving the date with Kisame without making a total fool out of yourself had been one. Doing anything remotely sexual with him hadn’t even come to your mind, but here you were: badly hidden away in the forest, half-undressed and obviously horny beyond belief, as you were jerking Kisame off and were dripping at the prospect of being eaten out by him.

Your hand sped up, fueled by the increasing wetness and his sounds. His hips bucked upwards, seeking the friction and pleasure. Gently, you let your fingers run across his cock. The dick twitched in your palm, more and more wetness coating your fingers and his skin. This allowed you to go faster; watching Kisame unravel at the seams with every upward stroke and being pulled together with every move downwards. His eyes were screwed close, mouth agape, the hands balled into fists like he had to hold onto something to keep the last bits of his composure.

But you wanted to see him fall apart completely. By your hands, no less. So, you tried to find that sweet, sweet rhythm which the man liked the best, just to achieve your goal. And you believed you had found it, as the man gasped out loud.

“Babe,” Kisame groaned, “I really can’t-!”

“It’s okay,” you answered, “it’s okay.”

A tired grin flashed over his face. “Of course it’s okay. You’re doing this to me.”

You had to grin back. Your fingers twisted, caressed, loved the cock, right until the point Kisame’s entire body suddenly tensed up. The orgasm broke out of him with the force of water exploding out of a broken faucet. A deep, guttural groan ripped itself out of his mouth, as white ribbons shot out of his spasming cock. Right over your fingers, spurting up to the underside of his chest, and dribbling down in long lines. Hot and heavy, the cum clung to his sweaty skin, running down with every heaving, shutter-y breath the man took. When his eyes fluttered open, his look seemed unfocused, hazy even, and it took Kisame a few moments to gather his brain back together.

In those few moments, you allowed yourself to take the entire picture of him in. The man was even sweatier than before, hair adorably tussled and red in the face. If his body had been tense before, his muscles now had clearly relaxed to the point he didn’t use the tree behind him for support anymore, but to keep himself upright entirely. His chest moved like he had just run a marathon, more of his cum — thick and blindingly white — still running down his chest and stomach. His cock, still in your grasp and still hard, softened slowly in your hand, but continued twitching in small spasms as you continued to jerk him through the aftermath of his orgasm. Kisame groaned again, the adam’s apple in his throat bobbing.

“Yeah, just like… Shit, babe…”

“You’re gorgeous.” The words slipped out before you could control yourself. You could feel your face heat up, but continued nevertheless. After what just happened, it would be more than silly to keep genuine compliments to the man to yourself. “And you really…?”

“Every single time you visited the beach.” Kisame chuckled. One of his hands rose, fingers dipping into one of the quickly cooling streaks of cum splattered across his stomach. “And every night, I would finish so hard I saw stars. But this,” he sighed, “this is even better.”

Silence spread between the two of you. The few more moments of peace allowed you the attempt to clean Kisame a bit up. His half-hard, half-soft cock was gently tugged back into his swimming shorts, and you were in the middle of cleaning up the first streaks of cum across his lower stomach, when one of his hands gently grasped your wrist.

“Leave it,” Kisame whispered, “that was all you, after all.”

Before you could answer, he leaned in. His lips found yours, stealing a quick kiss and a nibble of sharp teeth. “Now let me take a bite, too.”

“What are you-!” Quick like a shark in water, Kisame had turned the tides. His hands easily handled your body, until you found yourself in his position: Back pressed against the rough bark of the tree and overshadowed by this tower of a man. All of a sudden, you were again heavily aware of your own unprotected state: just a bikini top covering your boobs, otherwise you were painfully naked and still horribly aroused. You tried to secretly rub your thighs together to relieve some of the horniness, but the only thing you noticed was how more slick was slathered across your inner thighs.

Kisame noticed, of course. His lazy grin widened by a fraction, before he sunk to his knees right in front of you.

“Do you want to try this?”

Quickly, you nodded. Fuck, you wanted this so much. And even though it was scary, you allowed Kisame to manhandle one of your legs over his shoulder, opening you up to him and his intense eyes. His hands stroked over your bare ass, gently soothing some of the nervousness, before he laid a small kiss onto your inner thigh. His breath ghosted in harsh waves over your wet pussy, to the point you worried that you were dripping all over him.

“I’m starting slow, okay?” A questioning look was thrown at you. “And tell me when you feel-!”

“Uncomfortable, yes.” You almost didn’t recognize your own voice: So breathy, needy and almost harsh. To soften the tone, you reached over, finger sinking into his sweat-slicked hair, and let your fingertips run through it. He leaned into your touch, cheek smothered against your thigh and eyes twinkling in badly hidden mischief. “Please, Kisame. Get on with it. At this point, I’m way too horny to care.”

The embarrassment would come later.

Kisame chuckled, but obliged. Without any fanfare, his fingers sunk into the locks between your legs. He was careful, gently spreading your lower lips apart and coating his fingers in your wetness before advancing further.

Subconsciously, you spread your legs a bit wider. Fuck, you were shaking, and only Kisame and his needy breath with whispered words crammed in between kept you upright. “You’re being so brave. I can feel you, so, so eager for my touch. So sweet, sexy and fucking hot.”

His fingers teased your clit, playing with the small pearl but not giving you any kind of pressure. He rolled the button around, making you whine and roll your hips into him in your feeble attempt to receive more.

“You have to tell me what you want, babe.”

“Fuck you,” you pressed through gritted teeth, “you’re… oh please!”

Kisame licked again over your clit. Just a short touch of his tongue, like a kitten tasting milk for the first time. “Yes?” he asked, tone as innocent as one could act.

“Please, Kisame…” You weren’t too proud to beg. Not anymore at least. You tried to inch your hips closer to him; to him and the promise of a mind-shattering orgasm. “Please, I really can’t wait anymore. Please.”

The mischief in his eyes softened. One of his fingers rested on your clit, not moving an inch yet hinting at what was about to come. “Because you asked so nicely. Hold on babe, and scream as loud as you want.”

You held your breath as his index and middle finger slipped lower, circling your entrance. Another long moment in which you waited with bated breath passed, eager like a common whore as you stood there: Leaning against the tree and with one leg hooked over Kisame’s shoulder, so eager and wet for him you could hear the sounds of his fingers pressing into you in the air.

His fingers stretched you almost painfully. Just a small twinge, just a certain edge of pain taking some lust away, yet heightening the experience into infinity. A whine drifted through the air, high and oh-so-needy, and only moments later you realized that that whine left your own mouth. God, you needed him so badly. Needed him like you needed air, like you needed sunlight, like you needed sugar sometimes. A deep, painful crave, and one you could satisfy with just your words.

“Please,” whining and unable to stop yourself, you rolled your hips into his fingers, “please, Kisame! Oh fuck, I’m-!”

“You’re so fucking hot, babe.” His rough whisper easily carried over your own breathless pants. “And from what I can tell… you’re going to taste absolutely delicious.”

You could feel the tip of his nose nudging against your clit, with his fingers only halfway inside. They stayed still for now, just trembling from time to time as Kisame’s lips nibbled, caressed and tasted, but you could feel them ever so slightly curl.

And they hit that perfect spot. A gasp flew from your mouth, as stars and fire shot through your entire body.

“Kisame!”

His chuckle was breathed right against your wet folds, making you shiver yet again. “Oh, I do like the sound of that.”

“Please, I can’t…” Your head shook left and right, as your mouth was unable to form any coherent sounds. “I can’t wait, I can’t-!”

“Alright, babe. Alright.” Kisame licked in a long stripe all over your pussy. He obviously relished in your trembling breath, the way your body tensed up, and the way your mouth spilled more senseless begs to make him get on with it. Finally, his fingers inside of you slipped deeper, right up to his knuckles, only for his tongue to playfully lick over your clit and tease it.

With a long moan, the back of your head hit the bark of the tree. Your hips rolled into his fingers, which started to slowly fuck in and out of you. The squishy sounds were mingling with your stuttered breathing, but the pleasure roaring through your veins was worth every second of it.

His tongue was talented and as nimble as his fingers. The very tip flicked against your clit time over and over, only for him to dig deeper and rim your stuffed hole with his fingers twitching inside. Kisame himself was full of abandon; clearly sinking himself deeper and deeper into the task at his hands. Still gently fucking his fingers in and out of you, his lips wandered back up, only to close around your clit and start gently sucking. The suction was too much for you.

“Oh fuck!” Pleasure pulsed through you with the might of an earthquake. You had to bite your lips to keep yourself from making too many sounds, but your hips rolled on their own into Kisame’s mouth. The man hummed, obviously pleased with your reaction, only to suck even harder. His fingers picked up speed, moving and spreading apart and curling, aiming right into that little spot which made you see blindingly white stars.

The orgasm had built over the entirety of the date. No, actually, it had been built since you had laid your eyes on Kisame, and since he had smiled his first wickedly sexy smile at you. Now, with your back pressing so hard against the tree that it hurt and with this gorgeous, gentle, wonderful man burying his man between your legs, the peak was so quickly approaching you had no time to warn him in any way. Every muscle in your body seemed to tense up, pull together — only to fall apart just a moment later. A weak gasp wrung itself from your mouth, quickly followed by a long, low moan from the very depths of your soul.

“Kisame…” you sighed. “Fuck… okay, that’s…”

He laughed again, the warm rumble vibrating against your clit. His licks and little sucks turned into kisses and nibbles, gently bringing you down from the peak back to earth. It hurt a little bit, but he followed every little motion of your body like he could read your body like a book. Looking down, you noticed that you had buried your hands in his hair, subconsciously pulling him closer into your body. Insatiable, always hungry, trying to devour him with every fiber of your being — shamelessly having taken what he so graciously offered. Carefully, you loosened your grip on him, stroking and combing through his sweaty, dark hair.

Kisame gave your pussy a last, longing lick, then looked up. His chin and the area around his mouth were slick with spit and your own wetness, and with his hair disheveled even more than usual, he looked the part of a man being caged by a woman who hadn’t had a good orgasm in years.

Well, that part is definitely true. Every other one pales in comparison to this one.

“I was right.” His eyebrows wiggled. “You’re fucking delicious.”

“And you’re absolutely filthy.” Again, you let your fingers run through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize. I wanted to do this for you. And also for myself.”

“Mhm…” Still, you couldn’t help but wince as you watched the big man get up and hear his knees cracking. What he also couldn’t hide was the renewed boner in his swimming shorts. Because there was absolutely no way he was still hard after that massive orgasm he had just a bit ago.

Kisame rose to his feet again, one hand brushing off his knees, the other flying up to wipe a lick of your mixed liquids off his cheek. He mustered his thumb for a moment, only to quickly lick off the substance. “Might get addicted to this.”

You let your eyes linger on the bulge in his shorts. “I can see that.”

“All you. But don’t worry. For now,” Kisame sighed dramatically, “I can live like this. I’m definitely less pent-up now. And…”

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure now?”

For a moment, you had to think about what Kisame meant. Your brain worked, until the earlier conversation popped back into mind. “Oh… Yeah.”

“Yeah, like yes, or yeah like, “yes, I remember”?”

“Yeah, like… yes.” You felt your face warm up. Your eyes darted over the ground, getting caught at the fabric of your shorts and bikini bottoms. Right, you were still mostly naked. Stepping away from Kisame gave you a small moment of reprieve, but as you bent over to pick up your clothes, you could feel his eyes on your butt, scanning every little centimeter of skin. As you straightened out, you tried to find the words while not trying to think about the fact that he was still ogling your ass.

“Yes,” you turned around, while folding the fabric over your arms, “I’m feeling… definitely better. About you, about - about us, this… A lot better.”

Kisame flashed you a bright smile. “Sounds good to me. Well then… As much as I love to watch you like this, how about we still continue the date?”

“More than fine by me.” You smiled back. Nothing bad happened. Kisame had been nice about everything, understanding of your reservations and insecurities, and he didn’t laugh one time.

The sky was still in place, not shattered, and the sun was still shining. The world was still alright. And this… this could maybe work.

One day at a time. Calm down, one fucking day at a time.

Quickly, you pulled your clothes back on. Kisame merely picked up his shirt, which he had haphazardly discarded before, and his eyes followed your every move as you stepped into the bikini bottoms. You only caught him staring when you were done adjusting the band around your stomach, making sure the fat rolls were again safely secured and covered. “Uhm… what is it?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just…”

“What?”

Kisame reached over. Out of instinct, you took his hand, despite not having pulled on your shorts yet. The man started to walk back into the direction where you two had come from, and you were forced to follow his gentle lead. “In the danger of sounding ignorant and self-absorbed, but I can’t wait to get into the lake.”

“Hey, I totally get you. You’re still…”

“Sweaty? Messy? Hey, if you would use a dark light on me, I would glow like a murder scene.”

A silly little giggle broke out of you. “I’m pretty sure, yes. So, a good swim it is.”

Kisame hummed. Your joined hands and arms swung weakly between the two of you, as you walked through the forest. “A good swim first. Then some food. And maybe…”

“Yes?”

“If you want to, we can go back to my place. I have some condoms and no shift tomorrow morning. And,” he squeezed your hand, “my bed is really big, sturdy and definitely more comfy than the tree.”

An offer. A more than tempting offer for more: more of Kisame, more pleasure, and more confidence. You breathed in, breathed out, then squeezed his hand back.

“Yeah. Sounds really good to me, too.”

3 notes · View notes

sharkfinx · 2 years

Text

@hatredcurse asked: “ why are you looking at me like that? ”

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒

“—Because Sasuke kun’s expression is scary, nee nee. Have you been overworking yourself lately?” Adorned with pink bunny ears and a salty pretzel at hand. Kisame shook his head. Their zoo visit had become a hide-and-seek. So far, any animal as soon their gaze meets with Sasuke, they would hide out of fear. Was their work so stressful that he forgot how to have fun? Nibbling on the pastry as he leaned another one for him, Kisame looked around with a lost gaze. “What kind of animal do you like, Sasuke kun. Maybe those won’t run from you.”

#| ic #hatredcurse | Sasuke #| meme questions #// a nice zoo visit for my son

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chaoticclaybomber · 5 months

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🧠

Memory Asks

🧠 ― a memory that had a big impact on you.

Red eyes, swirling tomoe, digging into his mind and soul. He couldn't move, his own creation wrapped around himself and primed to explode. Trapped by his own hubris at the hands of Uchiha Itachi, hardly older then himself but just so much better.

Trapped, caged, ensnared for his abilities and unable to escape for fear of being hunted down and forced to turn his own weapons on himself. He hadn't found his ultimate art yet, hadn't perfected his craft, he didn't want to die yet!

Hate boiled up, simmered down, settled into his bones. Kisame laughed at his idiocy, Sasori shook his head. But Itachi... Itachi couldn't even be bothered to care. He'd done his job and was leaving, with Deidara just expected to follow. The blonde does, because he knows the choice is an illusion. He's not powerful enough.

But one day... one day he will be. And he'll break away from this cage as surely as he escaped the last one, leaving rent bars and a smoking ruin in his wake. And Uchiha Itachi's smoking corpse among the wreckage.

#meme friday #idle hands making sparks ( drabbles )

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sonorous-cicada · 9 months

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Breathe Part 8

Crickets chirped outside. They always did this close to the Land of Grass. Wind swept through the old wooden corridors of the Ryokan, the paper doors crinkled against the gentle barrage.

Hana moved her hand against my bare hip. Small callouses that had always dotted the sides of her index fingers, rasping along my skin. “Why are you up?”

The moonlight streamed into the small crack in the sliding door.

I snuggled further against her, kissing the side of her neck. She was so warm, or was it the Haimaru triplets scattered around our bed? Warm fur was against my back. Hai’s drool always dried on my shoulder when we slept together. Out of the three, he was perhaps, the biggest cuddler.

Hana scrubbed a hand over her face. “Why are you awake?” she repeated. “Is something wrong? Do you need your medicine?”

I shook my head against the pillow and held her closer before she had a chance to get up. “No, I’m fine. It’s just a beautiful night. I wanted to take it in.”

“I don’t buy that for a second,” she murmured sleepily, pressing her lips to my forehead.

“You should,” I whisper back, savoring the feel of her body against mine. My lung disease was progressing. In the mornings, I would wake up and expel the mucosal build-up from the night. Lately, that included copious amounts of blood. I would never mention it to her. She’d only worry. She’d demand that I stay in the village for tests. She might shut down, and lock herself away in search of a cure that doesn’t exist and never has.

Perhaps I was being selfish, keeping her here with me while I meet a rogue-nin from Kiri. I wish she’d go back to sleep so I could possibly run away and meet him by myself. After all, it’s no great loss to the village if I pass, but her? She’s the sun, breathing warmth into my heart that had long closed off to anyone who wasn’t kin. Guilt consumed me at the thought of leaving her behind, the only relief I could find was in knowing she would find someone else. She was charismatic, beautiful, and tender-hearted. A woman anyone would dream of being with, I certainly had.

“Chizu—” Hana groaned. She tightened her grip around my waist. “You’re thinking so loud.”

Hai huffed an agreement from my right. His heavy paw landed on my face; the calloused pad scratched against my nose.

Dawn came far too early, bathing the room in a wash of pinks and oranges through the rice paper door. The light crept over her face, highlighting the errant hairs that had escaped her nightly braid. Gods knew I loved her. The love I felt for her could rival that of my brothers. Or my parents. Or cousin. I would happily go to the grave for her.

I rolled out of the bed, shoving Hai’s leg off of my shoulder. Ru sighed and stood up from the end of the bed. He laid down in the spot I had vacated and enjoyed the residual body heat. As quietly as I could I turned on the shower, then used my medical equipment. By the time the nebulizer treatment was started, Hana walked into the bathroom and kissed my bare shoulder.

She hugged me over the towel I had tied around my chest. “I love you,” she said quietly. “I don’t know all of your plans, but felt you needed to hear that this morning.”

The mask on my face prevented my reply, instead, I turned and pressed my forehead against hers. All she was supposed to know was the Hokage had sanctioned a civilian merchant to meet with a notorious nuke-nin, ostensibly to broker a deal for rare dyes made from ingredients found in the distant sea. Hana wasn’t stupid by a long shot. She knew long before anyone could guess I was an agent for the Hokage. When I received permission to leave on this mission, she went to the Hokage and begged to accompany me. I don’t believe my godfather was fooled by her feigned cluelessness, but he is far too romantic to deny such a request. He would have done the same for his wife.

For the nuke-nin, Kisame, it was quite a deal. In exchange for information on a new terrorist organization, the Hokage offered citizenship and amnesty. Why Kisame? The former head of the intelligence division of Kirigakure no Sato turned rogue, well. That made for quite an illustrious story I could not resist following. Every scrap of information I could collect was neatly collated into a folder nearing two-hundred pages by the time I turned in my proposal to the Hokage. I could only hope the rogue would be amenable. We would find out this morning.

I think, if I had more time in my sandglass, I would have made her mine. I could easily picture her in her clan’s colors standing next to me at the shrine entrance. I would happily fold into the Inuzuka clan, and shed the trappings of my birthright. Not that the Uchiha elders would argue, to them, I was a waste of space. We’d have matching bouquets of daisies, fancy bows for the Haimaru triplets, and excellent food. Maybe we’d dance until our feet became sore, then sleep until noon the next day still in our wedding clothes. If I only had more time…I wish I did. I really do. Gods knew I wish I had more time.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The guards at the village gates watched with sympathetic gazes as Team Seven signed in. Kakashi frowned at their quiet expressions.

He tapped on the wood in Konoha standard code, ‘Did someone die?’

Kotetsu nodded. He brushed the rough grain wood of the check-in counter with his finger, then haltingly replied, ‘Chizu Uchiha was attacked two weeks ago. Itachi brought her home, but he was too late. She will be taken off life support this afternoon.’

Kakashi sighed and rubbed a rough hand over his face. ‘Don’t say anything. I’ll tell him.’

The gate guards’ shoulders dropped, and they sat back in their seats, relieved of responsibility.

Team Seven continued to walk through the village. Dismissing Sakura and Naruto, Kakashi turned to Sasuke, pointing him to Hashirama Park. They walked the trail in silence, winding closer to the hospital with each footstep.

“Why are we walking to the hospital?” Sasuke asked suspiciously. He threw his hands in his pockets as they continued to meander down the path. “Is Chizu having an episode or something? Is that what this was about?”

Kakashi placed a heavy hand on Sasuke’s shoulder. “Stay calm, remember, we’re headed to see her. They said she was attacked. Your older brother managed to save her. However, she will be taken off life support this afternoon.”

Sasuke stopped, his feet refused to move any further on the cobblestone path. “It’s too early. She still has another year, maybe two. She takes care of herself.”

“I understand this is difficult to process. We should keep moving.”

“She still has more time!” the teenager protested, shrugging Kakashi’s hand off his shoulder. “They’re wrong.”

“Sasuke, I’m sorry.”

“No! They’re wrong. It’s a mistake. She still has time!”

*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sasuke barely registered the tapping of his feet on the sterile linoleum tiles of the hospital. Nor did he feel the frigid air pumped through the vents above his sister’s bed. He couldn’t hear the beeping of the machines, the whoosh of the oxygen equipment, a nurse’s mumblings. He didn’t smell his mother’s perfume when she held him against her chest, whispering that it was time to let go.

How could it be time? She still had more.

The door to the room opened again, and the bottom dragged against the floor softly. Itachi sat down heavily at the end of the bed, pushing Mu to one side. Sasuke didn’t realize that his fingers were interlaced in the large dog’s soft fur. The door kept opening, and more people crowded along the bed, hoping, praying for a miracle. Shisui leaned against the supply closet door. Hana held Fugaku’s hand from the chairs near the window.

A stranger walked into the room in an obscenely white coat. Far too sterile for words, Sasuke could only pray he didn’t contaminate the room’s watchful silence with his voice.

“I’m Yakushi-Sensei. First, I will conduct the exams to determine the constitution of Chizu Uchiha. Per her last will, she has requested to not have extraordinary life-saving measures continue past the second week. That time passed exactly ten minutes ago. My condolences for your loss. I cannot hope to understand what her family and friends are feeling at this time. Though looking at this full room, I can tell she was very much loved.”

The door opened once more, Minato walked in quietly, followed by Kushina and Naruto. Naruto silently slipped his hand into Sasuke’s.

The physician continued, “Right, well first, I will remove the intubation tube from Chizu’s throat. Please do not expect a miracle if she breathes on her own, we have run several tests, and each indicated she will decline without the supplemental oxygen. Please do not be alarmed by any gurgling, convulsions, or tremors she makes. I promise she is well sedated and pain-free at this time.”

Hana sniffled against Fugaku’s shoulder. When Sasuke glanced back, her knuckles were white in his father’s hand. The small ruby pendant Chizu had given her for her birthday reflected the afternoon sun. Foolishly, he always thought they would get married, maybe adopt a few kids. In his dreams, he would see them running the small yarn shop together, two old ladies, bent with time.

Itachi’s face was wrecked, red, and blotchy. His eyes were rimmed in red, his hair was mussed in a ponytail. He reached out for their mother’s hand. Instead of holding his, she pulled him closer, his shoulder brushed against Sasuke’s as their mother held them both. She was their bastion of strength against this long-foreseen storm.

The tube was removed with a soft pop. As promised, Chizu gave a sickly gurgle as it was laid on the tray. The nurse assisting the physician turned off the monitors and oxygen. Shisui squeezed his eyes shut and stuffed his hands in his pockets. The IV was removed, and a small square of gauze tapped over the access.

“We’re done here. Nurse Maiya will continue to monitor her vitals manually until she has reached the end. Again, I wish to express my deepest condolences.”

Chizu’s even breathes tapered into watery growls. Mu whined from her lap, he held her down with his paws as her body convulsed slightly. Her breathing continued. Warmth fell down Sasuke’s cheeks as he watched her labored breathing. Mikoto’s grip on his shoulder tightened. The wince on Itachi’s face told him more. He imagined he could feel Chizu’s end. They were twins, they had always been weird together.

“Chizu,” Itachi whispered, reaching out for her hand beneath Mu’s chest. “It’s…okay…” Every word was a struggle for his brother, each one held more pain than the next. “We…I…will be okay. We will grieve. We will live. Go in peace, without pain. We love you. You are always loved.” He reached up and poked her forehead with two fingers before retreating back to their mother’s arms.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

‘I love you too. All of you…I wish I had more time…’

The breath seized in my chest. I was tugged back to a distant sea, painlessly crushed beneath the waves as they dragged me down. My soul was an anchor, willing to be tethered in the depths, released into the next cycle. I would see them again, in another life, perhaps. One where it wasn’t so cruel.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

To read more click: Ao3 or Ffn.net

Or...dig through my tumblr o.O I certainly don't want to go through the garbage bin. They're all labeled under 'Breathe.'

#breathe #breathe drabble series part 8 #oc #hana inuzuka #oc x hana #itachi uchiha #sasuke uchiha #naruto fanfiction #lesbian oc #lgbtq+#Final part!

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