#kisame fanfiction

[historicfailure]

Work Under Water

6. Chapter: Washed onto the Next Best Shore

Kisame finally explains why he continues to flirt - and shows it, too.

~ X ~

Hey there, sorry for the long wait. I had lots of stuff going on in my life, and I don't know, possibly had writer's block without even realizing it. Now though, I feel like I can do something about these left and abandoned stories again. If that "something" is good or not, that's not for me to judge. I hope you guys like this new addition. Thanks for reading and have fun :D

~ X ~

The first date was a resounding success. After swimming with Kisame, the two of you laid on the grass and dried under the sun, and even though you hid away beneath your towel, that talk had felt like Kisame truly tried to get to know you on a deeper level. The conversation with him grew deeper as well, continuing all throughout the afternoon and the better part of dinner. The sun nearly vanished in the darkening sky as Kisame dropped you off at the lake again, where your parked car still waited.

As you opened the door of the truck in the nearly empty parking lot and wanted to climb out, Kisame was faster. One hand landed on your arm, holding you back before you could slip away.

“Have a good night, (Y/N).”

The casual touch made your breath hitch. Fuck. How could something so simple as the touch of a hand on your arm could be this fantastic to you? Was it the fact that only a few people ever did this? Touch you just for the sake of touching you?

Fuck, am I really that touch-starved?

He has me in the palm of his hand, for sure.

Does he know? I hope not. 

A smile formed on your face, easy and light. “I hope you have a good night, too.”

His smile turned up a few notches. “Oh, now it definitely is. And think about a second date with me, alright?”

Without a question in your mind, there would be a second date. God, you needed a second date. Like the damned crave for sweets at 2am hit you with a vengeance, you needed that second date. And a third, a fourth, and so on. After just one date with Kisame, you wanted more. More of his voice, more of his touch, more of him in all varieties. Being so addicted to him in a matter of a few hours should scare you, but on the contrary: you felt like you were floating as you walked over the hard parking lot towards your car, got in and waved one last time before you drove off. 

Kisame waited until you left the lot safely, only then he left as well. Making sure you were on your way home, before he went to his own home. A kind gesture, and one you appreciated greatly. On the few dates that you had, the men tended to try to shoot their shot, and when you made clear that nothing sexual would happen on the first date, their play-pretend interest in you evaporated like morning dew under the hot summer sun. 

Barely at home, you fought with yourself a little bit before texting Kisame. Was it too soon? Too rash? Too much? The questions swirled around in your head, but that couldn’t stop your fingers from typing out a message to him and sending it off. 

>It was a wonderful first date. Thank you so much for this day. :)

The answer came in an instant. Like Kisame had waited for your message with his phone in his hands.

>It was my pleasure. Sooo… About that second date…?

A little smile flashed over your face.

> I would love to. If you’re up for it.

> Now that you agreed, you’re not getting off the hook that easily.

It should feel like a threat. Something dangerous and threatening, something anxiety-inducing. Instead, there was a warm tingle spreading from the pit of your stomach all throughout your body. Still in your clothes and with your skin feeling suspiciously like you had a sunburn, you fell into your bed, all the while pressing your phone to your chest. 

You could try. You would, that much was clear. But you didn’t expect that tingle and the warmth, the little fluttering of your heart when Kisame gave again confirmation that he wanted to see you again. 

For the second date, you picked the location. Even though it was tempting to simply pick the secret spot at the lake once more, you went with a simple picnic in the park, followed by a walk through the greenery. Seeing Kisame with clothes on was still a bit weird, and you somehow expected him to wear a pair of swimming shorts beneath the rough jeans he wore to the date. Together with the marine-blue loose t-shirt, which still managed to cling to his muscles in all the right ways, it made Kisame easily the most attractive man in the park. 

A fact a few people also noticed. And they noticed you beside that attractive man, walking beside him, talking with him, being touched by him. And some obviously asked themselves what you had so Kisame spent his time with you.

He noticed. Of course, he did, you weren’t that secretive about your growing insecurity. 

Suddenly, Kisame stopped in his tracks. You nearly walked past him, but paused and turned ever so slightly to him. “What’s the matter?”

“You’re thinking way too loudly.” His askew cheeky grin made your heart pound harder in your chest. He reached out, and when his big fingers closed around your smaller hand, your heart felt like leaping out of your throat. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“And what?” Despite the anxiety chewing at your insides, you dared to raise your chin in defiance. “What could I possibly think?”

“That you’re somehow not worthy to be here with me. That you’re not good enough. That the others look at you with disdain.” Kisame stepped a little bit closer. Just enough for the tips of his shoes to hit yours. Somehow, the new closeness stole your breath away. “But,” he leaned even closer, so close his mouth was tantalizing you with its look, and you could feel his breath ghost over your face, “but I want this. I want you. Only you. Never forget that.”

It didn’t matter anymore that the two of you were standing right on a neatly cared path leading through a wide park, with lots of people nearby to stare at the very open closeness between the two of you. But with your heart pounding and your blood rushing in your ears, you couldn’t care less. There was only Kisame, his scent, his body. All of him, and you were drowning. 

Will he…?

Oh god, no.

Oh god, yes. Yes, please.

For a few long moments, you wished and prayed that he would lean down further. That  you maybe found some courage and leaned in instead, to do what you wanted to do so desperately that it hurt. To feel his lips against yours, with the knowledge and security that he wanted you, warming you from within. 

But it didn’t happen. Kisame merely winked, like he could read your thoughts down to the comma, before straightening himself out. “I know what you want, little one. But you know what they say.”

“What?” You fell into step beside him, with your hand still held by his, his grip gentle and warm against your skin. 

“Third time, and by that I mean the infamous third date, is the charm.” Your hands, with the fingers tightly yet gently intertwined, swayed between your bodies. Such a nice touch, you forgot about anyone else but him.

It was so terribly easy to believe that it was real. You wanted to believe him, and part of you already did. Still, there was a tiny voice whispering and murmuring in your head. The voice was silent whenever you were with Kisame and talked with him, but it grew louder and louder whenever you were alone. 

Your insecurities were just muted when you were with him, not simply gone. You wished life would be that easy, but it rarely was. That was why you still felt like puking when you pulled up to the lake again, decked out with a two-piece swimsuit, light clothes and some light food, fitting for one of the last days of the summer. The nights got colder, sharp winds blew from time to time, and thankfully, rain started to come down more regularly. The last weeks of the hot drought took a toll on the environment, but in the next few days, the forecast announced rain and thunder.

Maybe, rain would fall even sooner than that. You could feel the humidity on your skin as you slipped out of your car, encompassing you like a coat as you made your way over to the beach. At the top of the hill, which descended into the sandy area, you could overlook the entire beach. Your eyes automatically went to the highest vantage point: the lifeguard seat. And there he was, the man you were casually — or maybe not so casually, as you hoped — seeing. Even over the distance, you could see how the man lounged in his chair, the long legs stretched out and dangling, one arm draped over the armrest, the other loosely holding onto a water bottle. A white tee hung from his shoulders, stuck to his skin in places where the sweat glued it to him. That meant he didn’t have to go into the water at all today, or just very early into his shift. 

You smiled. It also meant Kisame would be antsy to swim a few rounds. By now, you managed to find out one simple truth about the man: he loved to be in the water. A day spent without going for a swim was for him a wasted day. Even worse when it was hot and humid. 

You took a quick peek at your phone. Yeah, Kisame’s shift really was over in a few more minutes. Then, a little idea sparked in your brain. Yes, it was definitely a great idea. Before you knew it, you had opened your messenger app and typed out a quick message. Just a tiny hint of newly discovered cheekiness at play, and your thumb sent out the message before you could think too much about it. 

Of course, Kisame couldn’t really look at his phone. But only a few minutes after your message, the lanky guy with white hair stepped out of the small hut for the lifeguards. Without a hurry, he strolled over to the seat, with his arms crossed behind his head. 

Aah. Shift change. 

A bit late. And not hurrying in the slightest. 

Cheeky little…

Watching from afar was possibly even funnier than being up close. Like this, you could fully take in the scene: Kisame turning his head and spotting the younger lifeguard, who then climbed out of his seat and down from the higher vantage point. There, he waited, and waited, and waited for the younger guy to finally reach the stand, while he crossed his arms over his chest as he saw what you were witnessing. To say that he dressed the younger lifeguard down would be an overstatement. Just a small exchange of words, in which Kisame raised his fingers at the younger man, before walking off with wide strides. His eyes were intently set on his goal: the hut for the lifeguards. Only when he was halfway across the beach, he checked his phone, which he had placed into a small bag, together with his water bottle and sunscreen. All of those items were valuable for his job. 

He stopped in the middle of his tracks. Again, he read over the message, only for his head to snap up and scan his surroundings. 

> you’re looking good up there. Can’t wait to see you in the water, though. ;)

You knew he spotted you when his eyes met yours. Even over the distance, you could feel his look ghost over your body like fingers. From head to toe, he mustered you. A pleasant shudder wandered down your back, goose bumps peppering your arms and legs from the raw intensity of his look. Then, he raised his phone to his mouth, spoke for a moment, only to raise the same hand in a little wave. 

A few moments later, your phone pinged. Without looking, you knew the message was from Kisame. 

Just a short message, merely a few seconds long. You pressed the play button, your heart trembling at the prospect of hearing his voice already, while your eyes followed Kisame’s body, which had continued its way towards the hut.

“I’m looking good up there? Babe, why don’t you tell me stuff like this when I’m with you, huh? Then, I could at least tell you the same.”

A smile flashed over your lips. The way he said it… It sounded like he felt just as impatient as you possibly did. Yeah, you didn’t forget the stuff he said about the “third date”. Back at the park, it had been a promise, and now, it could become reality. 

Something deep down in your stomach curled. Curled and heated up, and the heat spread through all of your limbs. Subconsciously, you gripped your phone tighter. Fuck, you were down bad. Down bad for this man. Really, it was unfair.

Just so me to fall so much for someone.

Even if he’s into me, it’s like comparing an avalanche against some light snow. 

I’m sure I’m way more into him than he’s into me.

Before more doubts could arise, the door of the lifeguard-hut flew open, so hard that when it hit the wood of the wall, the entire building seemed to shake. 

Kisame stepped out, now dressed into a floral Hawaiian shirt, which was still open and fluttered around his naked torso more than it covered him up, and another pair of swimming shorts. 

“Sorry,” he spoke so loudly you could clearly understand him even over the distance, “won’t happen again. Have a nice day!” Before anyone could answer, Kisame threw the door shut again and came towards you in a half-jog, half relaxed walk. 

“Hey there.” His cheeky smile was infectious. Your own smile instantly brightened as he leaned down for a short hug. Just for a second, his arm around your shoulder pressed your body close to his, and the scent of sunscreen, lake water and something deeply musky enveloped you. Before you knew it, you took a deep breath in, and that breath kindled the heat inside of you. 

Yup. You were really down bad for him.

Kisame loosened the hug and stepped a small step back. His eyes flew up and down your figure, something akin to appreciation and possibly even adoration in his eyes. “Finally, I can return the compliment. You’re looking hot as hell today.”

“You’re overreacting.” Despite your insistence, you could feel how your face grew warmer. Such a simple compliment, and you were melting. Damn Kisame and his charm! Only barely, you lowered your eyes, only to flinch the tiniest bit when his fingers gently stopped you from doing so.

“Oh no,” Kisame grinned, “not today. Not when it’s the third date. You might think I have been terrible before, but you have seen nothing, babe.”

Babe. Uuurgh. 

Is it normal to get weak in the knees just because of that?

I never liked that nickname. But… I could get used to it.

And the way Kisame said it… Like he was caressing the syllable with his tongue, tasting every letter with the sensuality of a true, dedicated lover, with attention to detail and all the time on his hands. You really felt a little bit weak in the knees, just enough to excuse leaning into his hand as the one cupping your chin flattened against your face. 

“As much as I would love to stand here and grow roots with you,” his grin revealed more of his unusually sharp teeth, and just for a second, you imagined those teeth lightly digging into the sensitive skin of your shoulder, “I can’t wait to get alone with you. I have so much planned.”

“Planned?” you echoed. Really, it was hard to think at the moment. “What exactly?”

“Not much.” He shrugged. “Just a bit of swimming, relaxing, lying around in the sun, making out… You know, the usual.”

“Wait…” Did you hear that right? But before you could ask about what he said, Kisame’s thumb swiped over your lips, then suddenly fell away. Tingles spread all over your lips, making a whimper rise in your throat. What the hell was going on today with him? 

“I’m afraid I can’t wait. You neither. Let’s go to our spot, alright? Then we can… talk. And do the other things I mentioned.”

Your heart pounded at the speed of lightning as Kisame tugged gently at your hand, then started to walk towards the sandy parking lot. Also, your mind was reeling at the things which just happened. Like he promised, the third date would surely be memorable and a wild ride on top of that.

Heh. Wild ride.

Oh, shut up.

But yes. I hope it will be a wild ride.

Your face grew even warmer as you listened to your own horny thoughts. You definitely enjoyed some written porn occasionally, but your own sexual experiences were kind of limited. So, now, with the prospect of being thrust into that kind of situation, you were overcome with a totally different kind of jitter than before.

The walk back to the car was easily forgotten in your mind. The only part you could concentrate on with crystal-clear clarity was the feeling of your small hand in his, the many calluses, the way his fingers tightened as he led you towards his car, and the way his touch lingered just for a little bit longer before he let go, right when you were about to climb into his truck. 

You were still trying to get your warm face back under control when Kisame slipped into his own seat behind the wheel. But you were unsuccessful, measured at the newly awakened cheeky grin spreading across his face as he glanced at you before starting the engine. 

“Don’t,” you warned him, “just… don’t.”

“I haven’t said anything.”

“You’re thinking way too loudly.”

“Believe me,” Kisame craned his neck to leave his parking spot backwards, with one hand safely secured on your seat, the other at the wheel, “if you could truly read my thoughts, then I would be in hot water.”

“Why?”

“Because from the very first moment,” another glance to you, then Kisame turned his eyes completely towards the road ahead of him, “my thoughts about you were completely indecent.”

That did absolutely nothing to calm the raging flush on your face. Nor did it calm you down, with the quickly growing lust burning through your veins like a forest fire. It made you squirm around, wringing your fingers together even though it was in plain sight for Kisame, and the need and want for something you barely really experienced made you press your thighs together.

A sudden hand captured yours, pressing it to the top of your thigh. The touch made the squirming even worse, but you definitely couldn’t wring your hands anymore, not like this. 

“Nothing to say to that revelation?” he asked. His tone was deep and rich, all smooth honey and rich smoke. “Or are you so blown away by that?”

“I honestly don’t know what to say,” you admitted, “and, to continue being honest, I’m also really, really overthrown by your sudden… advances.”

“Advances?”

“Yes, advances. I…” You swallowed dryly, all the while your thumb twiddled with his index finger. “I never had someone… saying such things to me.”

“It’s about time, then.”

“But why now?” The pad of your thumb circled the rough knuckle of his index finger. You stopped for a moment, thought and sorted your thoughts, before continuing. Slowly, with every word weighing on your tongue like iron. “Why… The first two dates were, like… They felt like you wanted to get to know me. This… now it feels like you only want to get into my pants.”

He shrugged. “Can’t I want both at the same time?”

“Yes, of course. But… it was never like that with me.”

“And that’s,” he slowed down the truck, preparing to turn into the small pocket leading into the forest, “exactly the reason why I’m doing it.”

His answer confused you even more. What was that supposed to mean? Some kind of twisted pleasure in seeing you all flushed and flustered? Was that it? Deep down, though, you knew that wasn’t the solution. No, the real answer to the question felt like the one thing you feared a little bit, because it would be so hard to accept: that he was genuinely interested in you. In your personality and in your body, desired both, even. 

As you struggled your way through the thought process, Kisame parked the truck between the trees. As he fastened the handbrake, he had to pull his hand away, but as soon as the engine was off, his touch was back. Insistent yet gentle, unfolding your fingers and allowing them to curl around his hand again.

Your eyes were glued to that miraculous sight. A big hand wrapped around yours, obviously enjoying the feel of your hand in his. 

“The reason,” he started, and his voice seemed to fill every nook and cranny of the car, “is so simple. Because you hinted at something like this on our last date.”

“I did?”

As far as his seat and the limited space allowed, Kisame scooted around. “Yeah. Really, only hinted at. Took me some time to get it.”

“What a relief.” Even though you weakly chuckled, your insides seemed to freeze. What could he have possibly been thinking? 

“You don’t have a lot of experience with… things like this. Relationships. Romance.” Kisame paused. “Sex. And together with other, very human insecurities, resulted in you being nervous around me.”

“You noticed?”

“Babe,” another shudder wandered down your back, so strong you had to close your eyes, “it was pretty hard not to notice.”

“Right.” You still didn’t look up, just continued to twiddle with his fingers. “And why now this… this charm-offense?” 

“Cool people also call it flirting, you know? And I want to flirt with you because I hope that it will boost your confidence a bit. And make you actually believe that I’m interested in you. Mind, body, the entire package,” he answered. His fingers flexed around yours, only to gently slip away. “But if you don’t want that, just tell me and I will stop. Alright?”

“Alright,” you mumbled. The heat on your face would probably stay there forever. No chance to go back to your original body temperature, not when Kisame was so close and so charming. As you climbed out of the car, while he was busy unloading the back of his trunk, you tried to make sense of the revelation.

Kisame wants to flirt with me.

Because he wants to give me some confidence in myself.

And because he finds me attractive.

You couldn’t believe it fully, not yet. But maybe, just maybe, you believed it a tiny bit more than before. And as you continued to watch him, with his sweaty muscles moving right below the fabric of his tee, something inside your chest grew. The small spark of hesitant craving, kindled by the touches and his comments and his unwavering want for you to believe in him, grew more and more. 

Fuck, you wanted him. Wanted this. And just once, you wanted to… Just once, you wanted to be brave and confident and sexy, all the things you never had been. But somehow, he saw those qualities in you, and when he described you in the brightest colors… you felt instantly ten kilos lighter, with your heart leaping out of your chest and a smile lifting the corners of your mouth.

And you tried. Kisame was still busy unloading the truck, setting down bag after bag onto the ground. So, he didn’t look into your direction when you stepped up behind him, but he definitely noticed your tentative hand reaching out and touching his shoulder.

Just a small touch. Nothing big, merely your fingers gracing over the curve of his shoulder. The first contact initiated by you, because you wanted to. 

The reaction was instant. Kisame stopped all of his movement. A tremble flared through him, but he held impossibly still. A statue, just for you. For you to touch and explore and discover. Again, your hand reached over, followed the sharp curve of his shoulder. Down, to the iron cable of his biceps. The muscle twitched beneath your touch, just a small flare. But you felt it; felt the miniscule motion in the palm of your hand, as well as a wave of heat washing through your veins. 

You continued the careful discovery of Kisame’s arm, while the newly found and small spark of bravery made you open your mouth and form words which forced itself into existence. 

“You make me want to be the person you see in me, Kisame. Really, I want to. But…” You shrugged weakly. “I don’t know how.”

When Kisame moved, your hand fell away. His warmth though didn’t. He turned and stepped closer, so close you were forced to look up into his face as your nose would have otherwise hit his sternum. He looked down on you, and you couldn’t help but squirm beneath his gaze. 

If he touches me right now, I will spontaneously combust.

“I can give you a hint, if you want.” His face was suddenly closer. Startled, you stepped backwards, but there was only the side of the truck. Kisame followed, effectively blocking you in, and leaving you with nothing but weak knees, a quickly beating heart and the nervous jitter of anticipation rummaging through your body. He closed in on you, with his arms extending, caging you in between the truck and his naked chest, only framed by the flaps of his floral Hawaiian shirt.

“Is that enough of a hint?” His eyes fluttered down to your mouth, only to flick back up again. “Or do you need… more proof?”

“Yes.” You almost didn’t recognize your own voice, all breathless and needy. Barely above a whisper, and despite the closeness, you weren’t sure if Kisame heard you. But before you could speak up again, he leaned in, and you knew.

Knew when his lips met yours. Barely contained hunger, mixed with hard-earned experience, still a bit wet and tasting of the lake, but still so uniquely him — the kiss was all Kisame, and you could do nothing but ride it out. And god, you wanted to ride it out. With a low moan vibrating deep in your throat, you opened your mouth. Needing him, all of him. Your arms came up, small hands splayed across strong shoulders, holding on just barely, clawing into the warm skin and tight cords of muscles. A gasp was drowned in his mouth as his tongue met yours, first shy and playful, only to flick across your lips with devilish intent. Just for a moment, he pulled back, and you could feel his lips smiling against your mouth. 

“You’re burning for me, babe. So eager and innocent to feel.” His grin widened just a fraction, before he pressed another quick kiss to your lips, albeit it wasn’t any less hot and made your toes wiggle in your shoes. It left you dizzy, with your head spinning, and your eyes fluttered open just in time to see Kisame’s half-lidded eyes and the quickest flash of sharp teeth. At that, your knees grew weak. Fuck, now you were happy about the truck in your back as it kept you upright and standing in the face with Kisame’s… entire being.

He’s… so fucking hot. I’m melting.

Am I melting? Yeah, to a freaking puddle right at his feet, begging to be stepped on. 

Internet horniness has ruined me in that regard. Because I’m so close to just asking to be stepped on.

Thankfully, you didn’t actually ask that. Just a pitiful little whimper left your mouth as Kisame stepped away, with his eyebrows wiggling like the devil he was.

“And please believe me when I say,” his eyes raked up and down your figure, taking every little detail — the slightly disheveled hair, the reddened lips, the hazy look in your eyes — in, “that I’m burning for you just as much, babe. Maybe even more so.”

Only slowly, the meaning of his words filtered through the fog of deep craving for another kiss. He wanted you. Wanted to kiss you, wanted to touch you. But the insecurity inside you still reared its ugly head, slithering around and whispering about your size, your looks and your taste in clothes. As you picked up your stuff and followed Kisame down the beaten path into the forest, you were still pondering. Pondering and trying to reason with yourself. 

Will I ever feel secure? Secure enough to not doubt this every minute of the day?

Will Kisame continue to be this understanding? Or will I annoy him soon enough with my constant self-doubt?

I don’t know what to do. I just don’t know. 

#kisame hoshigaki x self insert #kisame hoshigaki x reader insert #kisame hoshigaki x reader #kisame hoshigaki #hoshigake kisame x reader insert #kisame x self insert #kisame x reader insert #kisame x reader #hoshigaki kisame x self insert #hoshigaki kisame x reader insert #hoshigaki kisame x reader #also on ao3 #historicfailure #freakypseudwriter #naruto fandom #naruto fanfiction #naruto fanfic #kisame fanfiction #kisame scenario #kisame headcanon

[chanfictions]

Kisame and 13 — "This guy bothering you?"

This is some strange, modern, underground rave AU that I now cannot unsee or unsmell and definitely didn’t plan when I outlined this shit. Hidan is a total dick, and Kisame is wearing the world's tightest t-shirt. I don't know what fucking happened. It got away from me. Just roll with it.

Lucky

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

Kisame + Prompt #13 "This guy bothering you?"

Warnings: yandere-ish themes, Hidan being Hidan, stalking, alcohol, violence/fights, blood

Kisame x Reader

3.8k

Deep hums of square-wave bass rolled through Kisame's chest as he scanned the sea of flashing faces bobbing to the hellish beat buzzing through the speakers nestled in the walls at the front of the dirty, sticky,  all-too-crowded dance floor on which he currently stood with crossed arms and a sour scowl stretched across his mouth. The strobing lights and colorful special effects, not to mention the overpowering scent of way too many hot, sweaty bodies crammed into one area was just so goddamn distracting – especially when he had a job to do. 

Party people – drunken dancers wearing too many glowsticks and grungy misfits of varying walks of life gathered in this dingy underground for the unique music scene and the other dubious dealings that often happened on the leather couches in the back – and that was what brought Kisame here in the first place. The hired help, the muscle – Kisame was among other things security for the evening for a particularly paranoid performer that would be going live on stage in the next half an hour or so. He had been charged with doing sweeps of the floor, sniffing out the imagined threats that the little pyro insisted existed before he would set foot on stage. 

He sighed to himself in annoyance. At least this was an easy enough task.

The crowd was clean, relatively speaking at least, and nothing of interest had been left in the open that would be cause for concern, so Kisame situated his hulking frame in its too-tight shirt on a stool at the bar for a moment, nodding to the man with orange hair and a face dotted with metal for a glass of water. As he brought it to his lips, he turned an ear to the quiet argument happening a few seats away.

"Hidan, seriously – leave me alone," you growled as you twisted yourself out from under the uncomfortable drape of your very slimy ex-something's arm around your shoulders. A lock of his glossy, slicked back hair fell into his stupid, attractive – punchable – face, and all you wanted to do was fucking deck him. But Hidan was Hidan, and a fistfight was foreplay as far as he was concerned. You just didn't need that shit tonight.

"Aw, come on," he grinned wolfishly, watching with an intense, unblinking focus as you toed around your stool and snatched your drink with an angry huff. He called after you over the hum of the music as you stomped away from him to disappear into the crowd. "Admit it, cupcake – you fuckin' miss me!"

You did not, in fact, miss Hidan in any sense of the word. He just wasn't getting the memo, or had casually thrown it away without bothering to read it.

Kisame's mouth pulled into a tight line, eyes narrowing on the back of Hidan's head as he watched the leather-jacketed douchebag nonchalantly slither after a very uninterested woman through the crowd. While you weren't exactly on his list of targets to watch for the evening, the little exchange he witnessed left an uncomfortable knot in his chest. The way that scumball stalked after you like a predator, following your movements from a distance made the hair on Kisame's neck stand on end. The hulking giant had good instincts about this sort of thing, as that was precisely what landed him his current job, and his instincts told him to keep an eye on Hidan.

Just as Kisame decided he was going to quietly stalk your stalker, the overhead lights began to dim, and the rhythm-drunk masses hummed with bated breath. When the bright, crackling sparks that would announce the coming of the headliner he had been placating tonight began fizzling at the corners of the stage, the crowd rolled into a frenzied roar, calling the maniac's name as the spotlights and fog back-lit his lanky silhouette.

"DEI-DA-RA! DEI-DA-RA! DEI-DA-RA!" They chanted in unison, summoning the grinning demon on his podium as he raised his hands and ascended into the air, displaying the trademark, tattooed tongues on his palms that made the masses go fucking wild.

Deidara took his place at the console with a smug smile and a flick of his long, blond hair, sighing happily into his mic as he looked down at the screaming faces below. "Do you know what true art is?" He purred into his headset, whipping the already tempestuous dancers into chaos as he queued up the first hypnotic beat that would entrance his adoring fans. "True art is…" Cheering fists punched into the sky as Deidara took a deep breath, dropped the lights and the bass in the pyrotechnic display of a lifetime.  "AN EXPLOSION!" 

You squinted at the searing flash as the mess of writhing bodies swarmed like bees and lost themselves to the thudding music, clutching your vibrating glass as the red, strobing lights and heart-stopping bass all but distorted reality around you. The hairs on your arms stood on end as you squeezed through the sweaty throngs of people, looking for a corner to press your back into so that you could at least try to enjoy the show. But the nagging voice in the back of your head screamed over the roar of the synthesized beat that something wicked this way comes. 

The voice in your head was right.

"Shit," Kisame cursed under his breath, glancing at the stage and then back into the sea of bodies, realizing that he lost sight of both you and the grinning beast that was hunting you in the screaming dark. His pulse pounded in his ears over the blaring noise masquerading as music as his narrowed gaze scanned the beat-drunk mess of stop-motion faces throwing themselves into the cacophonous abyss. His very bad feeling swelled rapidly into a sense of second-hand, impending doom. Kisame knew all too well that events like these were the perfect cover for chaos. He had seen it enough times to trust the barbed wire tumbleweed churning in his gut. The way Hidan looked at you as you snarled and stomped away was inhuman. Monstrous. Predatory. People like him unabashedly wore their bad intentions on their sleeve. People like him spelled trouble.

The giant shoved his way through the moshing crowd, elbowing through the waves of dancing thralls with ease, using his height to his advantage to look for the big, bad wolf hiding in the herd of psychedelic sheep. Deidara would have a king-sized shit-fit if someone died at one of his shows again, as that would mean another investigation and a potential stop to his grand tour. The little psycho wouldn't stand for his art to be sullied by the likes of local laws or regulations – or so Kisame told himself. 

Where the fuck is she?

You took a long swallow of your watery drink, clicking your teeth painfully against the glass as some asshole bashed into your hip and damn near knocked you over in a fit of heated dancing. You stumbled over your feet, trying to catch yourself before you were trampled by the raucous crowd. A long, wiry arm caught you around the waist before you hit the deck and pulled you back up into a nauseating embrace that stunk of whiskey and stale cigarettes as a low voice hummed into your head from behind.

"Careful, cupcake."

Your heart dropped into your stomach. 

"Good thing I was here, eh?" He murmured in your ear with a twisted smirk, tightening his arm around you like a noose. 

"Oh, fuck you," you snarled as you attempted to turn around and extract yourself from Hidan's bruising grip, intent on jabbing him in the ribs with a pointed elbow. You froze mid-swing and sucked in a horrified gasp, your blood running cold as you saw a flash of silver and felt the bite of a blade against your throat.

"Now would be a very good time to apologize to me and admit what a big fucking mistake you made when you left."

All you wanted to do was scream, but the sound died somewhere in your chest as the tip of his knife drew a dark red bead from your sweat-slicked skin.

"Now, be a good girl and drop the glass you're thinking about smashing into my face before I make a fucking mess out of you on the dance floor," he cooed cruelly against your temple with a vicious smile, swaying mockingly with your trapped form to the raging beat as he dug the edge of the knife into the soft flesh beneath your jaw.

The chilling venom in his tone raised nauseating goosebumps along your arms as you swallowed the desert in your mouth and pressed your head back into his shoulder in an effort to gain some relief from the razor edge of his switchblade. "H-hidan, this isn't funny," you choked out in a broken whisper.

"That's because I'm not fucking joking, princess," he hissed. 

Hot tears stung in the corners of your eyes as the glass in your hand slipped through your fingers and tumbled downward, spilling what was left of your drink on your shoes and exploding into sparkling shards that vibrated in time with the deafening beat when it struck the floor between your feet. A lowly murmured threat under the weight of the painful lyrics blaring in the background left your heart shuddering to a stop as a horrifying realization ripped open a sucking void in your chest. 

He's going to kill me when our song is over.

The length of that single song felt like an eternity for Kisame as he scoured the sea of nameless faces for something familiar, snarling to himself as the hazy smoke from the booming pyrotechnics made the already difficult task seem nigh impossible. Too many people. Too much movement. It was like finding a needle in a haystack.

And that's when an unusual sight caught his eye. Facing away from the stage was a familiar looking, studded leather jacket, swaying just out of time with the throbbing beat of the window-rattling bass. Another pair of stiff, shaking legs stood between the figure's, and between those legs was a pile of broken glass.

Even if it wasn't the girl he was looking for, someone was definitely not having a good night. After a quick buzz into his radio with his location and a mention that he was about to get his hands dirty, Kisame cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders as he approached the scene from another angle. As he got closer, it became clear that there was no need for the playful grin and customary "is this guy bothering you, darlin'?'' he typically offered to distressed looking patrons before caving someone's face in with a bar stool. Tangled up in that monster's arms was – you – the pretty girl from the bar, completely frozen in fear with a face streaked in tears stained red by the strobing lights and a glittering blade cutting a dark line into your neck. That was all Kisame needed to see to decide that Hidan's brain would be of more use splattered on the pavement than in his head.

With his lips pulled into a menacing grin, Kisame snatched Hidan by one leather-clad shoulder and spun him around, ripping the knife away from your throat in one swift motion. 

"What the fuck, asshole–" 

It was then that Hidan made the grave error of taking the first swing.

You nearly choked on your own tongue and stumbled forward until you collided with a wall, eyes wide and watering as you spun around and clamped a hand down over the painful, burning gash Hidan had torn across your neck before a stranger spun him away from you. Your heart pounded into your throat, making your head spin as the beating, crimson lights made the vicious, rather one sided grudge match happening between your ex and some mystery mountain of a man look like a scene out of a horror movie. A wide, toothy grin shone monstrously in the bloody flashes of lighting, making your savior appear more like some demon from the deep than a human being as he pummeled the ever-living shit out of a Hidan that just didn't know when to stay down. Their screaming and grunts and the tell-tale bone-crunching sounds of a passionate fist fight were drowned out by the rowdy beat. All you could see were stop-motion flashes of Hidan getting his ass handed to him before being hauled out by another uniformed monster dressed like the one who came to your aid.

It took a few long moments and gushes of blood between your fingers for you to realize that you weren't actually dead. It took several more for you to realize that the goliath of a man who just smashed Hidan into a pulp was now crouched in front of you, looking rather concerned and trying to get your attention. You just wondered how you ended up on the floor.

"Hey, darlin' – look at me," Kisame rasped over the deep hum of the music, moving into your line of sight in an effort to get you to focus on him. "You good?"

You just blinked with a vacant expression, lifting your trembling hand from your neck as you stared blankly at the liquid painting your entire hand red.

Kisame's eyes narrowed, now getting a whiff of the blood starting to stain your shirt. Without thinking, he snatched your hand and pressed it back over the wound before hauling you up to your feet. "Come on. Let's get you outta here."

You could barely hear the stranger's low, rumbling voice over the deafening beat, let alone your own thoughts to try to make sense of what just happened. Your heart was still in your mouth. Your cheeks were still needling with static. And now, you were suddenly tucked under the protective arm of this beast of a man who appeared out of thin fucking air, being led across the club toward one of the side doors emblazoned with the bright white warning of Employees Only.

It made you wonder for a moment if Hidan had actually killed you, and these were just the misfirings of your dying brain as you bled out on the floor to Deidara's spicy cover of Paint It Black.

Kisame pulled you along with him into the nauseatingly bright lights and closed the door behind him with his foot – his hand still clamped over yours as he led you through the little hallway into an area that almost looked like a lounge. "Here, sit down," he gruffed, eyeing the slightly confused, shell shocked expression painted over your clammy face. You mechanically parked yourself on the couch now positioned behind your knees while the hulk cautiously let go of your neck and got up to go rummage through a nearby cabinet. He left a few bloody handprints behind before he sat in front of you on a coffee table and popped open a first aid kit in his lap. "What's your name, darlin'?"

You swallowed hard, finding your mouth now uncomfortably dry when you opened it and answered him. The stark white, buzzing fluorescent light that flooded the room made this all seem so surreal. You wanted to thank him but the words stalled in your mouth as you gazed down at the blood all over his hand.  The only sound you could get to come out of your mouth was, "You?"

"Kisame," he rasped with a crooked smile as he opened a packet of gauze. Carefully lifting your hand away from your neck, that smile pulled into a grimace. "Damn, he got you good. You're probably gonna need stitches," he muttered, pressing the wad down over the wound. 

"Just slap some tape on it. It'll be fine," you mumbled, not particularly wanting to deal with ambulances or emergency rooms tonight.

"Anyone I can call? Got a friend here with you maybe?" Kind eyes were focused worriedly on you – the same eyes that had been so wild with bloodlust only a few minutes ago.

You just shook your head, lost in your own thoughts for a moment. Now that the adrenaline had begun to fade, a black, gnashing pit formed in your stomach as you realized just how close Hidan had come to slitting your throat. "Nope."

"Tape isn't gonna cut it," Kisame declared after taking another look at the mess.

"Not going to the ER," you stated definitively, staring blankly at a wet spot on your ruined shoes.

After taking one more look at the gash, Kisame gingerly took your wrist to press your hand over the wad of cloth and pulsing ache on your neck. "Stay here. I'll be right back." 

With a silent nod, you kept your eyes locked on the floor, watching Kisame's booted feet shuffle slightly as he stood and turned before walking away from where you were seated. Your head swam with wild thoughts and tangents of worry, trying to figure out what the hell you should do now. Hidan wasn't one to just go quietly into the night. The tarry bog of worry in your stomach began to churn and fester as you came to terms with the fact that your little problem wasn't just going to go away.

"Hey, Kakuzu, you back here?" Kisame's voice grew more distant as he called around a corner from the other side of the room and you stewed in your thoughts.

"The hell is going on, Hoshigaki?" A gravelly voice rumbled loudly from the back, only to quiet slightly as it engaged in a brief conversation that you couldn't quite make out over the mess yammering in your head.

You lifted your head as an older man in a black, form-fitting button up shirt sporting a messy bun emerged from around the corner with a white metal box in hand and Kisame at his side. A myriad of tattoos littered his exposed forearms. It took several long moments for you to realize that you had seen him before – the irritated looking man with an intimidating aura was Kakuzu, the club's owner. You were fairly certain you had had a few drinks with him once. He stared at you critically, face knotted into a scowl as he growled to himself and peeled back the bloody cloth you were still holding to your neck.

"If you want me to fix this instead of going to the goddamn hospital like a reasonable person, I don't want to hear any whining about how much it hurts," he said sharply, glaring down with intense, emerald eyes that made the knot in your stomach worse.

"Not a peep," you breathed through your teeth, turning your head to let him take a look. Now, you realized that some of the marks on his arms you originally thought were tattoos were scars and fresh stitches that he had probably done himself.

Kisame stood to the side with crossed arms as Kakuzu rumbled with a low sound of discontent and opened the kit in his lap. It took all of your self control to not flinch as he gripped your jaw with a calloused hand and hooked a curved needle into your skin to begin pulling the wound closed. "You're lucky this wasn't any deeper," Kakuzu growled. 

Your breath caught in your throat as the nauseating sensation of thread sliding through your skin made you dig your nails into your knees and tried to make light of the situation to keep your shit together. "Either Kisame has good timing or Hidan was just fucking with me."

The giant's mouth twisted in concern at how casually you made that remark as he watched you struggle to maintain your composure while Kakuzu worked. "Don't think that guy is gonna be bothering you again."

"Hidan's a fucking cockroach," you laughed weakly, swallowing the sickening saliva pooling under your tongue. "That immortal dickhead probably just dusted himself off and is halfway to my apartment by now."

"I… doubt that," Kisame stated after a pause, carefully omitting the fact that his partner likely hadn't just tossed Hidan out onto the street without giving him another few reasons to not come back.

"You don't know Hidan," you breathed grimly, sucking in a pained breath as Kakuzu hooked the needle into your flesh again. 

"I know the guy who threw him out, though," Kisame answered with a smirk.

You didn't argue with that and just held your  breath through the stomach-churning sensation as the club's owner finished sewing you back up like a sock. When you heard the metallic click of scissors and felt Kakuzu tape a clean bandage over the now closed wound, you felt like you could finally exhale. "Thanks," you croaked, finally opening your eyes again.

Kakuzu just grunted in response, still with annoyance knotted over his face as he put his supplies back away and stood up. "Get her out of here before she attracts more trouble," he sniped to Kisame over his shoulder, eyeing you for a moment before vanishing back into his office. 

After the door closed, Kisame took a seat next to you on the couch as you sighed and buried your face in your hands. "Want me to call you a cab or something?"

"I really don't want to go home," you choked out after a thick swallow.

Something about the way you said that just made Kisame's chest ache as he regarded you carefully and rested his elbows on his knees. "If you're still worried about that Hidan guy coming after you, you can crash at my place tonight."

Heat flooded your cheeks as you picked up your head and blinked at him in confusion. "Sorry, what?"

"I didn't mean that to come off as creepy," Kisame faltered.

"It's not that… just – you don't even know me. Why put yourself out for a stranger with a stabby ex?" Twisting your knuckles in your lap, you gazed over at him again, unsure of his intentions. The ever-present, nagging voice that usually told you to run for the hills was strangely silent, and that just confused you further. 

"I kicked the shit out of him once already. You think I wouldn't do it again?" Kisame teased with a crooked smile in an effort to lighten your mood.

"So, you're a knight in shining armor and mister fucking perfect?" You laughed dryly, looking up at the ceiling for a moment with a tightening throat and unexpectedly teary lashes as you struggled to contain the flood of emotion you had been stuffing.

A deep, rumbling chuckle resonated from Kisame's chest as he gave your hair a light pat and rose to his feet. "You might want to wait on calling me that until after you see the mess that is my apartment."

"If a messy apartment is what you're deeming a fatal character flaw, I stand by what I said," you snorted with a hoarse laugh. 

Kisame just smirked playfully and thumbed your cheek to wipe away a damp line of tears that had fallen during your little exchange before offering you an outstretched hand. "Come on, girlie. Let's go."

#naruto x reader #naruto imagines #kisame x reader #kisame imagines #akatsuki x reader #hidan #deidara #kakuzu #naruto fanfiction #kisame fanfiction #ask games with chan #chanfictions

[nightofhappylight]

Initially just wanted to draw Sasori and Kisame in their respective villages' standard uniform.

...And now there's a whole idea for a fanfic, so here's a short one of GuardianNinja!Akatsuki AU.

.

Snow Country Reading Club

Sasori hates waiting.

Not that he would go on a frustrated, genocidal mass-killing over waiting for a few minutes or anything, but if any of the idiots don’t arrive soon—or worse, if they change shifts without informing him—then there’s no telling what his smallest, mostly harmless doll he’s now fiddling with would do.

Flicking a finger, Sasori absently watches as the doll picks up a stick and starts to draw something on the ground. Not quite distracting enough, he makes it take up a stick on each limb and do a weird, half-remembered imitation of Suna’s traditional fan dance. If he cares enough, there’s a faint laugh he can hear from inside the big, heavily guarded building some meters away from where he’s sitting. He looks down and sighs.

Just fifteen more minutes. He would ditch the idiots if they don’t come after that.

༄ ༄ ༄

Deidara, for the umpteenth time, curses the ancient Tsuchikage for making him put up with this.

The job pays well, yes. And he is qualified, certainly.

But does he care? No, not really. Feudal Lords can do anything and Deidara would pay not even a quarter of shit to it. Their orders are shinobi’s main source of income but Deidara prefers the messy, explosive kind to the boring, tasteless, mind-numbing ones, like body-guarding.

He doesn’t have a choice, though. Not if he doesn’t want to get in another trouble with the old old man. Besides, it’s better than desk jobs, he guesses (because sage forbids he has to sit and write and think), and he gets to switch and take a break for a few hours to do whatever he wants.

…He just hopes a certain redhead wouldn’t stick a poisonous needle in him or something, though, because his shift lasting for one more hour is not his fault.

༄ ༄ ༄

When Kisame comes to their usual secret-but-not-really place, he is in a fairly cheery mood.

After seeing the familiar redhead, though, there’s something concerningly similar to fear—and morbid curiosity—that makes him blink.

“Uh” he starts, eloquently, “Where are the others?” because he’s usually the last one to arrive but there’s no blond or raven in sight.

Sasori looks downright pissed—Kisame wonders why the guy’s still there—and levels him with a look, “Who fucking knows.”

Oh. Wow. Okay.

Whistling a random, carefully low tune, Kisame sits a few feet from the puppeteer, “There’s a change in the Lightning’s Guardians, I heard.”

That, thankfully, gets the redhead’s attention.

“Who died?”

Kisame snorts, “Nah, just resigned, I think. It’s Dodai-san”

“The rubber guy” Sasori recognizes, “He is old, I guess.”

Kisame thinks about how Sasori is pretty old himself—despite his very misleading looks—and keeps the thought to himself. He glances to the windows of the building that currently holds the nations’ Feudal Lords, chuckles at how constipated Deidara had looked and faintly wonders why the convoy from Fire hasn’t arrived yet.

༄ ༄ ༄

When Itachi appears, it’s a day later than the schedule and he is greeted by a whole sour mood that turns off like a light the second he steps onto their self-claimed patch of clearing.

“Hey, Itachi-san” Kisame greets, a hand in a lazy wave, and Itachi follows the Kiri nin’s gaze and blinks at a raised eyebrow.

Ah. Right, he hasn’t had time to change yet.

“There was some trouble on the way” he explains, which is a normal occurrence, really—Feudal Lords eat assassination attempts for breakfast—but there has been a little more effort in the last couple times, “Asuma-san’s team is currently acting as decoy and we went here undercover.”

(Not that Itachi would say it out loud, but he is forever grateful the Fire’s Lord is mostly a chill guy and is fine with their modus operandi, however questionable it can be).

Vainly tapping his flak jacket to at least dust some dried red, Itachi takes a seat on the ground where Deidara is patting enthusiastically.

“We were talking about the Lightning new guy, yeah.”

“Darui-san?”

“What – you already knew??”

Itachi nods, pulling out a gray-bound scroll and a soft-cover book and thumping them on top of the other ones piled on a relatively cleaner spot, “Hokage-sama told me.”

Deidara rolls his eyes, “Of course he would, yeah” he says and goes to mutter something about blonds and old mans and retirement.

Kisame smirks, eyes alight in humor “Good for you, Itachi-san. Yagura-sama prefers his subordinates having surprises.”

“That’s because Kiri nin would die if you don’t get anything exciting happening for more than twenty minutes—”

“Hey! The one who had a rampage on a ‘seemingly empty desert’ doesn’t get to talk!”

“I’m not the one with the huge-ass, chakra-eating sword—”

Itachi snorts softly, taking one random book and flipping it open. Ah, a general history of the Stone’s alliance with Grass. He has read about it in Konoha’s archive, but having another point of view wouldn’t hurt.

“How old is the guy anyway?” Deidara asks by way of redirecting the topic because Sasori is now starting to bring up their tardiness.

“Young.”

“Younger than Itachi was?”

“No one is younger than Itachi was when he first joined.”

“…Fair. Younger than Deidara?”

“No, a little older,” a pause, “Acts ten years more than his age, though.”

They each grab a book or a scroll, a comment slipping here and there, and soon they’re sitting in a semi-circle, silent, each reading one thing or another.

“…We could invite the guy some time” Kisame says some half an hour into the silence, page opened on a certain kata illustration. (…So that’s why he has been… weirdly moving his hands about.)

“I’m fine with that, yeah” Deidara nonchalantly agrees, already on his third book and flipping many pages all at once and stopping randomly to read “Hey, somebody gotta teach me this one!”

Itachi glances at the pointed passage. A chakra control exercise. …Hmm.

“I could show an example” he offers, before looking at Sasori, “Unless Sasori-san is willing to demonstrate it” because the book is from Suna, after all. Said puppeteer just waves a dismissive hand, eyes still focused on an old, fraying scroll pertaining… Kiri’s desserts?

Deidara shoves the book into his hands. The raven reads the page once again to make sure of the theory and starts channeling it into practice. Brown and black dust falls from the hem of his sleeves and he glances forward as he feels the other half of Konoha’s convoy arriving and getting into the building.

It would be his shift in a couple hours, but for now, he is content to enjoy his break with some company.

#naruto #naruto fanart #naruto fanfiction #akatsuki #GuardianNinja!Akatsuki AU #itachi uchiha #kisame hoshigaki #sasori #deidara

[arswiss]

I am obsessed with this fanfic called "Shinra Tensei" so this is a quick snippet of one of my favorite parts.

Sakura decides "fuck it, the life of a ninja is harsh and unfair" and leaves Konoha to end up right with the Akatsuki. She is written wonderfully, badass, and complex, truly the Sakura we deserve. The Akatsuki are written amazingly, and there is so much delicious Itachi content, I love it.

Big thank you to the author, who seems to be looking right into my subconscious and writing everything I have wanted.

#my art #Naruto #Naruto fanart #Naruto comic #comic #Sakura #Itachi #Kisame #Deidara #fanfic #fanfiction #Ao3 #Shinra Tensei fanfic #Shinra Tensei fanfiction #Shinra Tensei Ao3

[nardo-headcanons]

Hey my dear mutual! Another super stupid and weird request coming, so, please, feel totally free to ignore completely if you want, really. So, let's say instead of a criminal organization, the Akatsuki are actually a lab team. Which would be their roles, their work focus or their research topics? How would they behave at work with each other or, I don't know, whatever you can think of. Inspired by your agar plates post, by the way, hahahaha

Hello Sasuke, my dear. Don't call your asks weird, I love how creative they are! If anyone wants to write a fic about this please TAG me!

Big thanks to @the-real-sasuke-uchiha for requesting!

The Akatsuki in a modern research lab AU

Akatsuki Labs, Inc. No one knows what they're actually researching, and how they get their funding, however everyone hires them, they're incredibly popular with institutions and businesses alike...

Deidara is a lab rookie who is still at the beginning of his study. He went to a scientific high school and an absolute ace at chemistry. Besides studying chemistry, his other major is pyrotechnical engineering. He blows shit up on the regular and even adds copper sulphate to fires when he is the one supposed to put them out. He frequently steals minerals from the lab to use them for his pottery projects. And yes, he knows how to make meth.

Hidan is on his way to become a neurologist. He is fascinated by the way the nervous system works (especially while processing pain) and has the ego of a neurosurgeon twice his age. However he is regularly asked for a second opinion because he knows his shit. He's pretty popular with the ladies due to his confidence, however many of them are freaked out when they find out what a huge masochist he is.

I've never seen Itachi as a huge stem guy, but I've actually had a discussion about this with my dear moots @pet-plasma-bubble and @suki91 and came to the conclusion that he's either a plant biologist or studies medicine because he's one of these kids with a chronic and/or underdiagnosed illness going into medicine to make a change. Plant biologist!Itachi regularly talks to his plants when no one is looking and he gives them names as well. He doesn't really care much for the actual lab work and prefers to take care of the plants in the different lab greenhouses. Med student!Itachi is one of these anatomy girlies who draw their stuff in fancy colors and actually enjoy studying human anatomy.

Kakuzu is a senior scientist/professor who initially studied pharmacology/pharmacy to save many lives and prolong the lives of millions, but eventually got disillusioned and sold his soul to the pharma industry. He should technically be retired now, but he joined the Akatsuki labs inc to make some money on the side.

Kisame started out as a marine biologist specializing in shark research, however, seeing these beautiful, innocent creatures get bastardized by Hollywood and pollution made him apply to Akatsuki labs inc to help find solutions to the current crises caused by humanity. During his free time, he volunteers in a dolphin rehabilitation center.

Konan is the cofounder of Akatsuki labs inc, everyone respects her and even looks up to her. Once a brilliant scientist in the field of engineering, she got tired of how male dominated it was and how her male colleagues kept getting the credit for her ideas. She frequently holds lab courses for young girls interested going into the scientific field.

Nagato is the Akatsuki labs founder, and rarely seen in the lab. He has made himself a name in the field of robotics by inventing the Shurado robotics system which helps millions of automated machines run to this day. Rarely seen in the lab, he communicated with his employees via his Pain Alias Email. though to be fair, Konan writes most of these emails for him; she's the only one regularly talking to him face-to-face.

Orochimaru is a geneticist and biochemist, his focus being finding ways to avoid cellular decay, as well as the human genome and anti aging research. His parents are academics as well and he lived up to their expectations to the fullest. He has his own skincare formula which keeps him looking snatched at all times. Given the rumors about several scientific ethical code violations, everyone is kinda scared of him except for his personal lab tech, Kabuto.

Sasori is a renowed mortician who's also very interested in histology. His preparation techniques are unmatched and he even invented new preparation- and histological staining methods, which are called "Red Sand" and "Red Technique", respectively. He often gets into fights with Kakuzu about his microtome collection being unnecessarily expensive.

Tobi is the Akatsuki labs CEO cosplaying as a clueless intern that always steals from the candy bowl in the waiting room. In reality, he has a PHD in physics, his thesis being about rifts in space time and interdimensional interactions, however all of his papers are published under an alias. He has a soft spot for Deidara and refuses to fire him despite the latter's frequent "accidents".

Zetsu is a biological anthropologist fascinated by human evolution and human behavior. Some think even his colleagues are subjects of his studies. Some people say he's two-faced, but he is very chatty and inquisitive most of the time. He volunteered to have Itachi's venus fly traps in his office and can sometimes be seen feeding them dead flies or mosquitoes.

#naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto headcanons #naruto scenarios #naruto au #akatsuki #akatsuki headcanons #naruto modern au #deidara headcanons #hidan headcanons #itachi headcanons #kakuzu headcanons #kisame headcanons #konan headcanons #nagato headcanons #orochimaru headcanons #sasori headcanons #obito headcanons #tobi headcanons #zetsu headcanons #naruto fanfiction #naruto imagines

[wing-ed-thing]

Ghostie: Trick-or-Treat (Akatsuki x Ghost!Reader)

Synopsis: You beg Hidan to go trick or treating. Too bad he's the only one who can see you.

Word Count: 1k

Tags/Warnings: Ghost!Reader, Language, No Reader Pronouns, STUPID

Notes: Happy Halloween!

Sasori could see your approach from down the block, knowing it was only a matter of time before his house was next. He sat on the front steps of his rickety, old porch, reluctantly passing out handfuls of candy to children until Hidan stepped up for his turn, you in tow.

“Trick or treat!” you exclaim, only to be met with Sasori’s silence. Hidan stood to your left with a severe scowl.

“The hell are you supposed to be?” Hidan scrunched his nose, lowering the two pillowcases in his hands. Sasori pointed toward his construction paper ears.

“A cat, stupid,” he scoffed, tossing a single piece of candy into Hidan’s outstretched bag. “You just missed Chiyo. She went to brew more apple cider.” Hidan plucked out the candy, inspecting the wrapper with a frown.

“Can I get something else? I fucking hate chocolate.” He tried to offer it back, but Sasori swiftly swatted his hand away.

“You get what I give you. Now get out of here—” He gestured to the line of kids that were beginning to line up behind Hidan. “You’re holding up the line, and the longer you stand here, the longer I have to sit here.”

“Fine,” Hidan sighed, tossing the chocolate bar back into his pillowcase. He reluctantly offered the one in his other hand. “At least give the ghost some.” Hidan gestured to his side, sparing you a glance for emphasis. Sasori stared at the spot you stood, slowly blinking before returning to Hidan.

“Did you forget to take something you should have?” Sasori frowned, craning his neck to get a better look at the spot again. “Or did you take too much of something you shouldn’t have?” Hidan shoved the pillowcase in front of Sasori’s face and shook it. The fabric depicted a pattern of little ghosts wearing various hats.

“Sasori, c’mon, just spare a little candy for the ghost. A real, genuine ghost is about as spooky as you get,” Hidan huffed, rolling his eyes. Exasperated, he stared up toward the sky.

“I want the blue ones.” You tugged at Hidan’s sleeve.

“The ghost requests the blue ones,” he repeated. With one last look of skepticism, Sasori reluctantly relinquished two candies in the requested color. You watched them drop into your pillowcase with wonder.

“Thank you!”

“The ghost says thank you.” You immediately shot off, hovering to the next house, leaving Hidan to chase you across the street. He knocked over a flowerpot. Sasori stood on the wooden steps, yelling obscenities after him, much to the displeasure of quite a few parents.

“Tell your ghost to kiss my ass!”

***

The houses down the street were far flashier. The one you were most excited about had an excessively large porch at the front of the house. About ten people sat in costumes on rocking chairs while a grand Halloween bash raged indoors. People milled in and out, grabbing drinking and grilled food from the barbecue—the children who passed by the porch for candy left with their bags practically full. 

Kisame clutched the wooden beams toward the roof, giving Hidan a nod and a smirk as he approached. His red jersey draped over his shoulders, leaving a large gap for his arms. “WILDCATS” was printed on the front in bold, white lettering.

“Ay yo, Hidan! You’re a little old to be trick or treating, aren’t you, my guy?” he called with a snicker. Hidan threw up his hands in defeat. The path to the porch was still too crowded. 

“It’s not me! It’s the ghost!” he shouted from the street, gesturing next to him. Kisame glanced at the space with an apprehensive smile. 

“Uh-huh!” He apprehensively acknowledged, sparing a quick look at Obito.

“What?” Obito mouthed. Kisame shrugged, dumping half a bowl of treats into a kid’s

candy bucket before Hidan finally got the chance to make his approach. Kisame held out his hand to dap him up before pulling him onto the porch with the rest of the crew. 

“Nice Jashinist costume,” Kisame said, rewarding Hidan with a firm smack to his back. 

“Who decided on the High School Musical theme?” Hidan chuckled, stepping back to check out everyone’s matching jerseys. 

“Konan,” everyone on the porch said in unison. Hidan nodded from side to side. The information checked out.

“She didn’t want to do Gabriella alone,” Deidara added, bending down on one knee to shoot a volley of candy out of a t-shirt cannon. The ensuing cries were of excitement and pain as candies rained down on the kids crowded in the front yard. Deidara laughed. Monster Mash played in the background. “Tobi is the guy who says ‘I play the cello’ because he thought bringing a cello to a Halloween party was a good idea.”

“He was arrested for robbing a pizzaria!” Tobi turned around from where he was grilling in the driveway. A blond, curly wig sat on his hair. Hotdogs and hamburgers littered the grill, and a table was set out with buns and condiments. A few random chairs were arranged in a circle to allow parents and kids a place to sit. You hovered right over Hidan’s ear.

“That’s true!” you whispered, startling him. Kisame took a half-step back, looking at him with a furrowed brow. “I was there. I saw it!”

“Get back to grilling, Tobi!” Deidara yelled. “Pull!” The candy cannon went off again. 

“You’re letting Tobi grill?” Hidan wiped at his ear, paying no mind to the looks exchanged between his friends. “Isn’t that… not smart?” 

“It keeps him busy.” Kisame shrugged again before gesturing inside. “I know you said you were trick-or-treating for your friend.”

“Ghost,” Hidan corrected. “I’m being haunted by a ghost.” Kisame laughed aloud.

“Sure, guy. Grab yourself a drink. Stick around a little; we miss you.” Hidan didn’t protest, heading inside while your pillowcases miraculously grew fuller as the night went on. 

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Part I: Zombie Combo, Part II: Artist Duo Part III: The Tattoo Part IV: Not So Ghostie

#hidan x reader #Sasori x reader #kisame x reader #hidan #akatsuki #naruto x reader #naruto #x naruto #x you #reader insert #akatsuki x reader #naruto fanfic #naruto fanfiction #akatsuki fanfic #naruto shippuden

[ladyloveroll]

in fandom, in fanfiction, the kisaita dynamic is often portrayed as hurt/comfort; for both parties. itachi is allowed to take comfort in kisame’s physical affection. kisame is allowed to finally be weak (or at least vulnerable). this dynamic is very cathartic.

i am tired of catharsis.

after years of reading kisaita (which is just a BAFFLING statement to me), i have become very interested in exploring their dynamic in terms of violence, aggression, and adversary. kisame respects strength. this is evident by their first meeting. it’s something he forces itachi to show him. similarly, itachi is ruthless. no, not malicious or sadistic or even LIKING the act; yet he is violent. he communicates a lot through action. he taps sasuke’s forehead. he kicks sasuke back so hard that kisame is surprised by his cruelty. he forces sasuke to kill him. he lets deidara think he won. he stabs kakashi repeatedly for 24 hours. he dismembers orochimaru. he is not so dissimilar from kisame’s own tactics and fighting style. if anything, kisame is shown to be LESS VIOLENT than itachi, but this is biased by how much screen time (or number of panels) they each get. kisame talks big. we never see him dismember someone. of course i believe him. (some writers do not and i also love exploring that too but that’s not what this post is about)

i need. more. violence.

this is not a demand for all kisaita writers to change their style. part of how awesome the naruto fandom is all the different interpretations of characters there are out there (recently i read a snippet of ino being very heavily medicated for self-harming behaviors). i couldn’t give a fuck less what anyone writes. this is all FOR FUN. so. ima make my own different sort of fun now. hehe

#microblog #kisaita #hoshigaki kisame #uchiha itachi #also if i make kisaita violent and kisame is still kinda fucked up after itachi dies #then i can continue his character growth in kisakonan #fandom #naruto fanfiction

[phlebaswrites]

Floating Through Life (On the Water)

Summary:

Kisame might be from Mizu no Kuni, but not all water is the same.

(Some things cannot be drunk without risk.)

Rating: Explicit Fandom: Naruto Relationship: Hoshigaki Kisame/Uchiha Itachi Word Count: 531 (Complete)

Entry for @kisames-corner

Day 1 - March 15: Samehada as a cat | Tea Shops | The Gift he Never Knew he Wanted

This story is a gift to @woofgang69 and @hidendumbassvillage who inspired it.

My apologies for the late submission!

"What are these for?" Kisame picks up one of the eggs, weighing it in his palm thoughtfully. "It's not as if we're going to be cooking."

"They're for you," long fingers gesture elegantly, brushing over the other two eggs still lying next to the pillow. "Traditionally, over the next six nights, you would eat the yolks and rub the whites between my thighs before we sleep, venturing higher with every evening."

"And, on the seventh night…?" Kisame doesn't really need to ask, he can see the answer already, but it's always good to know.

Read the rest on AO3.

#Kisame birthday bash 2024 #Day 1 | Prompt: Tea Shops #Day 1 | Prompt: The Gift he Never Knew he Wanted #Phlebas Writes #Naruto #fanfiction #Story: Floating Through Life (On the Water) #Series: Kisame Birthday Bash 2024 #Hoshigaki Kisame/Uchiha Itachi #Hoshigaki Kisame #Uchiha Itachi #okay to reblog

[welkinsky]

Hiii!! Can I request a Akatsuki new member reader that's like Shinobu? Where the reader always smiles and to the enemy she's like "So we can be friends!! Oh, So I can see, you receive the proper penalty and be reborn, I could gouge out your eyeballs or slash your stomach to rip our your organs☺️" but she's actually such a nice person when she's not fighting enemies, and so what do the members think of her? :)

A/N: Looove the idea! I absolutely love this idea and I'd love to name them with your name "Minahi" I hope you like this!

Akatsuki X New Member

Tobi

Tobi is always happy around you, all say that he can be serious at times and can very easily be scary too but till now you haven't seen that side of him ever so you don't believe them. Neither do anyone want to argue with you on the same because lowkey they think you're like him too.

Pain

Well, you haven't had any long conversations with him at all if we're being honest. Couple of head nods as you both pass each other and that's it. For some reason there is a mutual respect between the two of you. You both were assigned to a mission together once but before he could show up you encountered the target and took them out with ease so he never even showed up. You were kind of hoping to not meet him while at the same time wanted to know him better. But to him he wants to meet with you and talk more but can't do that because of the obvious reasons and to him you're the sanest out of all the Akatsuki members.

Itachi

You've never seen his expression change, ever. But this one time when you both were assigned a mission together you could see him smiling a little as you both stopped by a small tea stall and you both were having some sweet snacks. You figured he liked sweets, so when you both were coming back from the mission and were parting way, you gave him the sweets you got him earlier. You saw a glimpse of smile but it vanished just as fast it appeared but after that he at least smiled while greeting you. He knows what you stand for and why you stand for. He also respects you for the skills that you have at such a young age.

Kisame

Very easy person to be around, apart from the fact that he's one of THE AKATSUKI. If you both have met in normal conditions you both agree that you both have been good friends. He started to kind of like you (as a friend) but as soon as saw you in the battlefield, he back off. Why? Because let's be honest everyone has some screws loose in Akatsuki to make them all this twisted, so he doesn't want ALL THAT (you) against him. Simple.

-------------------------------------------

Would you like a second part for

Orochimaru, Deidara, Sasori, Konan, Sasuke & Kakuzu

Thanks For Reading and for the ask too!

Naruto Shippuden Masterlist

If you liked it you can check out the masterlist too!

For exclusive NSFW/ SFW content by me and for personalized writing by me check this out.

Asks are still open if you want to submit any ;)

#itachi x you #itachi x oc #itachi x y/n #itachi x reader #itachi #itachi fanfiction #itachi fanfic #kisame #akatsuki #kisame x you #kisame x reader #pain x reader #pain x you #pain na #pain naruto #tobi x reader #tobi x you #tobi naruto #akatsuki x reader #akatsuki x you

[adhdnojutsu]

Passionate KisaIta, based on my fic here:

#naruto #itachi #naruto fanart #itachi uchiha #naruto shippuden #itachi fanart #itachi naruto #naruto art #uchiha itachi #kisaita #kisame #kisame x itachi #itachi x kisame #itachi fanfiction #kisaita fanficion #naruto fanfiction

[lemony-snickers]

from @imamonster456:

Kisame loves the rain. Of course he does; he's basically a sea creature. As he and Itachi wander a small forgotten village in search of a meal, Kisame removes his hat, tilts his head back, and lets the rain fall against his blue skin, mouth spread wide in a delighted grin.

Itachi, though? Every time he gets stuck in the rain, it feels like it's trying to smother what little fire remains with him. The faint spark that is still an Uchiha, still burns with pride and purpose.

The part of himself he misses most, the one he must be the most cautious about nurturing.

The place they find to eat is covered, at least, even if it's open air, and Itachi gratefully shucks his cloak and hat so he can hang them on a peg to dry what little they can manage. The restaurant is small, unassuming, the sort of place they always end up. If it has an inn attached, they might even spend the night, which he would appreciate as it would negate the necessity to camp in the sloppy forests surrounding the nameless village in which they find themselves.

Kisame spreads out on his side of the table, relishing the humidity with a deep sigh. The gill-like things on his face flutter a little, which fascinates Itachi almost as much as it sort of grosses him out.

"You're being morose," Kisame complains, glaring across the table, "knock it off."

Itachi just huffs, knowing anything he says to defend himself against the weather or his mood is just going to fall on deaf ears anyway.

Once they've ordered their food, the two men sit in silence. They talk so much all the time--too much, Itachi usually thinks--there is little to say, especially when in range of any potentially prying ears. Villages like this are good for them because no one asks questions of anybody else. But that means the other patrons are just as likely to be criminals as they themselves.

Just as Itachi's curry makes it to the table, a blur of color whizzes by him, splashing his pants with muck. He growls, low in his throat, and turns to give a tongue lashing to the person responsible.

But all the vitriol in his mouth snuffs out when he realizes who is.

The boy has dark hair and eyes, skin that looks like it's only ever existed beneath this same cloud-ridden sky, too pale to have ever seen the sun. He's maybe six or seven, the same age as Sasuke the last time Itachi saw him smile like this boy does now.

He's frolicking in the mud outside the restaurant, spindly legs splattered with it as he spins and jumps, leaping directly into a puddle until his shoes are soaked and he's laughing like he's just heard the greatest joke ever told.

It's sort of magical, Itachi thinks, and the sight nearly rips his heart straight out of his chest. He tries so hard all the time to forget what Sasuke was once like--what Itachi himself was once like--seeing such a stark reminder of what might have been feels like being cleaved in half by Kisame's chakra-hungry sword.

"Oneechan! Oneechan! Come on, it's fun!"

Itachi only turns away from the sight of the young boy playing when he hears the soft voice of oneechan when she tells him, "Fine, fine, I'm coming."

She's pretty, close to Itachi's age and clearly related to the muck-slick kid in the rain, the slope of their noses and the points of their chin all but identitcal. Her eyes are softer, though, even as they're fixed so pointedly at her younger brother.

Itachi watches as she joins the boy in the rain, squealing when he jumps full force into a puddle, splashing her simple dress with muddy water.

"Your'e a menace, otouto," she says, but there's no malice in the words. Only love. So much of it.

Itachi stares for longer than he ought to, but he can't tear his eyes away from the scene. Watching them play together diminishes the effect of the rain on his mood, surreptitiously lifting the corners of his mouth before he even realizes.

The boy grasps his sister's hands and starts twirling the two of them in circles, skipping and jumping while his older sibling maintains her footing, makes sure to steady him when he slips so he doesn't fall.

Their laughter drifts between the sparsely populated tables of the restaurant, and Itachi is suddenly glad they found an open air place to sit because otherwise he might have missed the sound.

"Just go already." Itachi turns back to find Kisame's food gone, though he hasn't touched a bite of his curry. "If it'll help your mood or whatever," he adds, pouting slightly as if disappointed his company isn't enough to lift Itachi's spirits.

In that way, Itachi sometimes thinks Kisame is like a big brother; wonders if he had any siblings of his own before he left his home village. They never talk about their pasts; once you're part of the Akatsuki, that's all you are.

"Don't be stupid," Itachi says, bending over his curry to take his first bite. It's still warm, thankfully, but no longer hot, which only proves how long he's been staring.

He sensitive shinobi ears perk up the moment the young woman's shoe catches on a stone, the small yelp she makes when her feet slip out from under her.

Itachi doesn't really know why he uses his finely-honed skills to catch her; only registers the movement when he feels her solid weight in his arms, looks into her wide, half-startled eyes, his long hair a curtain around both their faces, shutting out the rain and the rest of the world.

Any drying off he's done is worthless, now, the water soaks into his back and his shoes mercilessly as he asks, "Are you all right?"

"F-fine," she says, shaking her head as she steadies herself on her own two feet again.

Her brother pokes her in the hip and mutters, "You're clumsy, oneechan."

She smiles down at him. "That's true, but this nice man helped me. What do we say?"

The boy ducks behind that same hip, staring cautiously at Itachi with one eye. His mumbled, "thank you," is so quiet Itachi can't actually hear it over the patter of rain on the dirt road. He only knows the kid says it because his mouth moves.

Itachi should go back to his seat. Finish his curry and see if there's a dingy inn where he and Kisame can take refuge for the night. Instead, though, he crouches down so he's eye level with the boy and says, "You know, I have a younger brother who's a lot like you. You're lucky to have such a good big sister to play with."

In truth, Itachi has no idea whether Sasuke is anything like this boy anymore. And he certainly hasn't been a very good brother for him. But he stuffs down that grief, buries it deep.

"Do you think we should invite him to play with us, outoto?"

Itachi glances up to find the young woman smiling down at him, which catches him off guard. He's even more surprised when the young boy nods his head and jumps out from behind his sister, all vestiges of his shyness suddenly forgotten in favor of recruiting a new puddle jumper.

"Yeah, yeah! We can splash even bigger with another person! And he's strong, right, because he caught you oneechan, I bet he could make a huge splash even by himself!" The whole sentence comes out in a rush, the way excited kids always seem to string all their words together into one.

Itachi blinks when the woman's hand appears in front of his face. "Would you like to join us?" He flicks his eyes over to Kisame, who shakes his head, drags Itachi's curry across the table, and begins to eat.

Itachi smirks as he slides his palm against the one he's been offered and stands. That's fine. Itachi can always place another order for curry to go. For now, he wants to enjoy this feeling for just a little longer.

And as he skips in a circle with the little boy that reminds him so much of Sasuke and his big sister, Itachi feels his mouth pull into that same unexpected smile. He forgets about the dampness, forgets about his grief and all the weight of the expectations he still bears.

For a few brief moments, Itachi is no longer a rogue nin, a criminal. He's just a teenager having fun, letting his slacks get dirty and his hair get wet, and when he and the woman beside him laugh loud and long as the kid stomps into another mud puddle, he realizes he hasn't made that sound in a long, long time.

Maybe this weather isn't so bad, after all.

#itachi uchiha #itachi fanfiction #kisame hoshigaki #lemony scribbles #april 🌧️ lem 💐 #vague itachi/fem!reader vibes but more just joyous itachi in general

[chanfictions]

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

[skyeventide]

not me checking out one (1) Naruto fanfiction after appoximately ten years or more and thus stumbling on the best Itachi/Kisame story of my life

#Naruto #did you know that I have a decently-sized corpus of naruto fanfiction #on EFP lmfao #Itachi Uchiha #Kisame Hoshigaki

[nardo-headcanons]

Kirigakure Worldbuilding II - Specialties

Inspired by a recent conversation I had with @pxssy-stuntin-for-itxchi, I got wanted to add more to my Kirigakure worldbuiling post!

Food Preservation Since except for a month during the winter, it never really gets cold in Kirigakure. This has lead to its citizens becoming very creative at enhancing the shelf life of the food that they have. Meat/fish is dry-aged and smoked, fruits are turned into preserve, cheong, or slow-dried. Dairy is a luxury in the water realm, so there are a lot of plant based dairy alternatives already, so it’s no surprise the wave realm has a quite big vegetarian and vegan population. Even though their spice tolerance is not the highest, when talking SALT tolerance, no village can beat Kiri. They are VERY generous with salting their food. In order to get a smokey flavor to any dish, you can obtain smoked salt everywhere in the country. The water realm was the first region the come up with the concept of fermentation of food. Milk is turned into yoghurt and cabbage is turned into kimchi and its more popular variant - sauerkraut. Fun fact: Suigetsu comes from a high ranking caste, so he actually was able to afford dairy yoghurt and jello with actual gelatine, and they're his favorite foods.

Kimchi and Sauerkraut

The general spice tolerance of Kiri citizens is not the highest across the shinobi world, so kimchi is mostly exported to Konoha and Suna. The cabbage grown in the water realm is specifically bred to be extra heat resistant and crunchy. In order to cut down on waste, the excess is turned into sauerkraut juice. To put less of a strain on the public healthcare system, the water realm government has issued its citizens to exercise and eat healthy – especially children. To get more children to drink sauerkraut juice, it is produced in portable, biodegradable little juice boxes which are handed out for free in the Kirigakure academy. Every Kiri genin has tasted it atleast once. Scurvy was once a big problem for most shinobi going on long term stealth missionas, since most just lived off dried meat and crackers, except for Kiri Nin, since they always carry sauerkraut juice (and kumquats) with them.

Fruit

Mangos: With their sweet and fruity taste, they’re popular amongst children, especially when dried, rolled into balls with an added sugar crust. While other countries see them as a special treat they’re a staple in Kiri. Papaya: Another Kiri staple. It is eaten either as a fruit in its orange form or in its green form in more hearty dishes. The seeds are ground and sold as a pepper alternative. Its extracts of the are used by the Kiri beauty industry, which is the biggest one, closely followed by Suna's beauty industry. Peaches: Often grown on the mountaintops of the water realm, they’re loved all over the country. Peach trees are seen as a sign of fertility, renewal and good luck. The pits are turned into persipan, which many foreigners don't like. Durian: Those stinky fruit are banned in Kiri’s public spaces. However, it is still the most popular fruit overall, so only a few get exported yearly, much to the other countries' durian lovers' chagrin. Jackfruit: Not a lot of Kiri citizens like its fleshy texture but it is often used as meat alternative by Kiri’s large plant-based population. Lychee: They’re often sugared and canned, or added to jelly. They're amongst the most popular fruit to make cheong with.

Kumquat: Kiri nin love them because they’re basically easily portable, vitamin c filled snacks. Other honorable mentions include: Rambutan, Mangosteen, Starfruit, Cherimoya, Soursop, Yuzu and Tamarillo.

Jelly If you’ve read my last post on Kiri specialties, you probably know that instead of manufactured candy, Sweet tooths (teeth?) in Kiri chomp down on dried fruit, fermented sugary sticky rice and – jelly. Gelatine, like most non fish animal products, is a luxury so most jellies are made with agar-agar, a plant based “gelatine”. Just take some fruit juice and set it with agar – and there you have jelly. Most foreigners find Kiri’s obsession with jelly pudding off-putting, but that doesn’t stop them. Fun fact: Suigetsu comes from a high ranking caste, so he actually was able to afford dairy yoghurt and jello with actual gelatine, and they're his favorite foods. Non food fun fact: As genetic engineering gets more advanced and Kirigakure already having no issues using bacteria, they're also the biggest exporter of nutrient agar for agar plates which are used for the cultivation of bacteria and funghi. Kigakure is the leading village when it comes to biological and medical advancements, which is why Orochimaru has visited very often (and eventually ran into Kimimaro)

#naruto headcanons #naruto shippuden #naruto #naruto imagines #naruto scenarios #akatsuki #naruto fanfiction #headcanons #fanfiction #suigetsu headcanons #suigetsu #naruto meta #kirigakure headcanon #kisame headcanons #kisame hoshigaki #kimimaro #orochimaru #zabuza momochi

[x-authorship-x]

Chapters 1-14^^^^

Until Dawn Breaks

Update

Chapter Fifteen: Suffocate

Summary: “You don't need an ocean to feel like you're drowning.

You feel it, between your chest and your throat,

the weight of it stretching you outside yourself,

like a dead fish on the shore.”

― M.E.H

Updated: 20/01/2023

#torship #torship writes #fanfic #naruto #shisui #kakashi #itachi #fanfiction #genma #hope au #UDB #kisame #akatsuki #tobi obito #mikoto #raidou #tenzo #konoha

[cybernetickitten]

HI! This is a comic inspired by the fanfiction

The Joy of Cooking-https://archiveofourown.org/works/37818967

By @windflowering

Its supposed to be a continuation. See in the fic kisame tries to find obitos favorite food by making him a variety of dishes. But alas he hasn't found it just yet.

This is placed after obito revealed his identity to kisame.

I really love any ship with obito in it, and kisaobi is my all time favorite one! It's just so cute!

#kisaobi #kisame x obito #obito x kisame #obito uchiha #kisame #akatsuki #naruto #naruto shippuden #fanfiction #fan comic