#kisame x reader insert

[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. 

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[snuggleboots]

₊˚♡˚₊ The Akatsuki and their jealousy ₊˚♡˚₊

Tags: GN Reader, GN flirt, general jealousy and implied murder shenanigans.

Tobi essentially zeroes in the instant someone else starts laughing a little too hard at your jokes. Uhm, hello? You're funny, but you're not that funny. In fact, he's pretty sure he's the only person that busts a gut laughing when you crack your silly little one-liners or puns. It's cute to him, nobody else has any business making a play by acting all giggly and doe-eyed. He doesn't need to be violent about it - and really, why would he be? Tobi's just as happy to lean in - uncomfortably close - and then loudly declare that they have something stuck in their teeth! And it's super noticeable! So's their breath! It's not rude, he's just being helpful! He can smell their lunch through his mask! And it's rank! How embarrassing! Haha! They really should go brush their teeth, huh! Go away! Far, far, away!

Hidan is, in fact, very liable to wind up jealous over stupid little things that always result in becoming a pain in the ass for you to defuse when he inevitably hops onto his bullshit. You're out trying to enjoy one meal in peace together? That's funny, because the server seemed to put some weird, flirtatious emphasis on hot when they asked how you like your tea, and that's a problem, and that bitch knows it, too. Oh, they wanna know how hot you like it? Alright! There's loads of people on this earth, and they really wanna get stabbed over you? Fuck it! He just sat down, but clearly he's got some shit to do now. Dinner and a show! Why not?! He gets why Kakuzu doesn't tip now, not that he was gonna anyway. Shit service, and thirsty-ass servers. Fucking ridiculous.

Deidara is the first to notice when someone gets too close and cosy with you. Does it bug him immediately? No. His reaction, however, depends entirely on yours. Do you notice that they're smiling with way too much teeth when they playfully punched your arm? No? Alright. He can let that slide. It's when they deliberately divert your attention from him to themselves that he starts getting annoyed. He's not at all above pointing out tacky behaviour, petty king, and even if it embarrasses you a little, it is highly satisfying for him to see the flirt's face drop into something sour or burn up from the embarrassment. It's even better if you snicker along with him.

Kakuzu's only problem with someone chatting your ear off and really gushing over whatever comes out of your mouth is the fact that they're boosting your ego and he has to deal with it later. Not because the offending flirt boosted your ego, he doesn't give a damn about that, but he's now going to hear the same things you just told them about later when he's already just heard it - and he sincerely doesn't care to hear it again. He doesn't want to act interested, and yet he's going to be faced with either being called a dick, or being forced to feign something to avoid bickering about it after the fact. God dammit.

Kisame doesn't mind seeing someone try their damndest to flirt with you. He trusts you, and he's very happy to sit back while you turn them down- or, if he's lucky, watch while the flirt makes an idiot of themselves trying too hard to clue you in and get your attention. It's funny - he's laughing, and he isn't even trying to hide it. If he's in a cheeky mood, he'll even stir the pot, because he has gremlin tendencies and his humour is catered exclusively to himself. Yeah, he'll egg them on in little ways, until they're feeling nice and confident. Then, while he isn't really a PDA kind of guy, he'll drape a brawny arm over your shoulders, plonk a cheek atop your head and drawl something to the effect of, 'You know what? You do look great in that outfit. It'll look better on the floor later. Ready to go?' Kisame likes finding his own fun like this. The flirts always flap their lips like gasping fish when he hits 'em with that bit, and it tickles his brain just right.

Itachi is generally ambivalent. You have attractive qualities, he knows this, and he's well acquainted with the consequence of having said attractive qualities. As long as you're fine with it and nobody's pushing any obvious boundaries, he's fine with it too. Jealousy isn't an issue at all with Itachi. It only becomes one if you end up uncomfortable and the flirt doesn't pick up on that fact. In that case? He's glad to leave with you, if you don't feel like handling it. If you don't want to leave, or leaving isn't an option? Well, he can use his words. Or, if they've ruffled your feathers enough to annoy him, there are many benefits to being a genjutsu master. Oh, noooo, suddenly all eyes are on the flirt and the judgmental looks are intense and highly disarming. Or, uh oh! There's definitely a fire that just broke out, and they're the only one panicking about it! Oh wow, they left in a hurry. What a shame. They must've drank a little too much, or something like that.

Sasori, simply put, could not possibly care less if you paid him. Possibly aggravated by the fact that someone's breathing air in his direction while he's minding his business with you, someone he can actually tolerate. Yeah, he fully expects you to handle that. He's gained a knack for zoning minor annoyances out- until those minor annoyances become general annoyances. It's only when the offending flirt's voice becomes grating - which, really, doesn't take long at all before he bothers intervening if you haven't already shooed them away yourself. If a terse 'shut up' or 'begone' doesn't dissuade the persistent little gnat, he has poison and many fun, discrete vehicles with which to deliver it. It is purely for the sake of peace and quiet. Does he care when they drop like a sack of rocks, seizing and foaming at the mouth? Not particularly. Do as he does, and zone it out. Don't look at it (derogatory), you'll only encourage it to make more of a scene.

#reader insert #akatsuki x reader #naruto x reader #naruto #akatsuki #tobi x reader #hidan x reader #deidara x reader #kakuzu x reader #kisame x reader #itachi x reader #sasori x reader #writing tag #this is just sillyness b/c i saw a funny tiktok and rolled w/ it #:' ) #also highly based on my own dumb perceptions of everyone

[wing-ed-thing]

Three-Man Squad Relationship Headcanons with Itachi and Kisame

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns, Language, Canon-Typical Violence

𓆃 Oh, you thought you were safe because you got placed with these two? 

𓆃 You thought they were level headed? You thought that because Itachi seemed the quiet and respectable type that you were placed in a normal team? Yeah, that’s called a false sense of security.

𓆃 Kisame is the most personable by default since he’ll talk more and it’s not horribly difficult to build a working friendship based on mutual respect and sparring to pass the time.

𓆃 With lots of time and how boring travel is, Kisame is all too happy to suggest that you test your skills against each other. The more evenly matched, the better. Whether it’s hand to hand or weapon to weapon, Kisame insists on making it a game to pass the time.

𓆃 Each time, he’ll push it a bit further. Maybe he’ll continue to swing when you’ve tapped out. He couldn’t “hear you.” Perhaps he’ll initiate a surprise attack to start your sparring session, shouting out only a word of warning before swinging Samehada at your head.

𓆃 Each swing is a death blow. Kisame does not hold back during sparring. He does not consider sparring practice in the sense that he is conscious of your safety. 

𓆃 Every time he initiates fighting with you, the closer he toes the line to actually killing you. He plays rough and if it’s allowed to go on without you noticing, it will never stop.

𓆃 Luckily, he seems to get bored quickly. Pulling out too many new or otherwise flashy moves is sure to hold his interest and elongate the match. 

𓆃 Your abilities will garner great respect from Kisame and he’s not afraid to praise you often. This praise often comes with sharp slaps to the back, head, and behind as he seems to genuinely enjoy having a buddy who he perceives to be on the same wavelength as him.

𓆃 High respect, high loyalty, strong friendship, and killing you is a part of the circle of life. If you don’t want to die, then don’t!

𓆃 Itachi is quieter but arguably worse. He’ll hardly engage you, which often includes flat out ignoring many of the things you say. 

𓆃 He’ll give you the cold shoulder to the point where it’s almost easier to talk at him. Sometimes when Itachi’s alone, you’ll join him where he is to talk. And he won’t stop you. He’ll never say you’re disturbing him, and just let you talk at him about whatever you want.

𓆃 And then when he does say something to you, he’ll sprinkle in little personal details you completely forgot you told him.

𓆃 “Don’t you have a great aunt from this village?” “I thought you didn’t like that kind of grain.” “This is why you have acute shoulder pain and soreness in your knee—”

𓆃 You used to complain about the things in your life that were bothering you until you realized that Itachi didn’t pull his punches. Everything is on the table from your relationship history, to psychoanalysis, to dissections of your every decision. It doesn’t matter what it is because Itachi has honed into it and will place you on the hot seat with just a few brutal words.

𓆃 And then sometimes, you won’t remember interactions with Itachi at all. Sometimes, you are somewhere else completely and you snap back to reality just in time to see Itachi’s sharingan extinguish.

𓆃 How long were you gone? Where did you go? What caused it? Who knows. You’ll never know if Itachi got annoyed or if you fought or even if he was just messing around with you. Itachi is not above flexing that he is ultimately in control of the team.

𓆃 He’ll just show you things under his superior genjutsu. That’s his fun. He likes to sit across from you showing you things and you know what? You’re none the wiser

𓆃 You’ll bring something up that “happened” on your travels to Kisame and he’ll have no idea what you’re talking about.

𓆃 Welcome to Team Mind-Fuck

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

#itachi x reader #Itachi uchiha x reader #kisame x reader #kisame hoshigaki x reader #kisame x reader x itachi #Itachi x reader x kisame #naruto x reader #naruto headcanons #naruto headcanon #Itachi headcanons #kisame headcanons #naruto x you #naruto x y/n #x you #x reader #reader insert #akatsuki x reader

[aurorafandomblog]

1) Meeting

"You shouldnt be out here in the rain." You look over at the source of the voice to find a man with black eyes staring at you with an almost unreadable expression. The rain drips from his large straw hat as he reaches out a hand towards you.

The gesture takes you by surprise. Why would this stranger care? Hesitantly, you take the man's hand and mutter a word of thanks. With that, he leads you to somewhere that would be dry and as he does, you notice for the first time his long black hair, tied loosely towards the ends, reaching about to his mid-back.

As the two of you approach a small cave, the man drops your hand. Why did he only let go now? Your question is answered when you enter the cave.

"It's not like you to bring in strays, Itachi." The owner of this voice belonged to a greyish-blue skinned man who had gills on his face.

The black eyed man- Itachi. Looks at the companion in almost the same expressionless look on his face- but is it expressionless? You thought you saw something, so slight, almost imperceptible, in his eyes. "You know I do not like casualties, Kisame."

Casualties?? The word makes you worry. Just what kind of men are these?

Kisame smirks in response. "For a cold killer, you've certainly gotten quite soft."

Itachi stares at Kisame with that same expressionless- no. Youre sure of it now. Its ever so slight but you can see it. the ever so slight look in his eye. Its hardened. Itachi is glaring at Kisame.

But all Kisame does is shrugs. "What do I care if you've gone soft?" he asks rhetorically. "As long as you continue to do the job we're paid to do."

Itachi continues his expressionless glare for a moment more before turning his attention to the small camp fire.

master list

@rudecopper tagging cuz your art inspired me. Can you dm me an official link to your artwork, please? I want people to see YOUR work, not an art thief!

#itachi #naruto #kisame #x reader #reader insert #fanfic #itachi x reader

[leporcide]

cicadas in the background

"Fresh air, scenic views, and a beautiful lake offer a perfect retreat when you need to escape life's troubles. But your peace, however, is shattered when rowdy campers move into the cabin next to yours and an eerie presence in the lake takes a keen interest in you."

pairing: modern au kisame hosigaki x gn!reader for: the Cabin event! word count: 12ishk tw: nsft, body parts are named and described, but i have two versions of the smut section for afab and amab,! there's a divider to warn you! its the first full smut i've ever written so i apologize if it's lacking (or too much!) like reading on ao3?: here u go tags: blood, murder off-page technically, smut, breif? description of being drugged/lingering effects of a sleep medication reader took, bullying, animal death and gore (rip to a frog), uuuh being peeped on in the shower, if there's any i miss pls let me know i'm terrible at it notes: this is kind of a super modern au, with a heavy southern US lens, so take the setting with a grain of salt also thank u to mel for beta reading part of this for me :'>

The sun’s rays reach through the water, warm and easy as they ride the breeze-driven waves of the lake’s surface. Their strength wanes the further down they stretch, lost to the gloom further out in the water. Here in the shallows, though, the water weeds eagerly drink it up and grow lush along the muddy bottom. And in turn, schools of glittering silver minnows dart in and out of the greenery.

It’s so alive. And quiet.

None of the noise above the water reaches your ears. When you don’t move, you can hear the rushing of your blood. Your lungs ache—have been aching—for fresh air for a few minutes now. But you’ve finally settled at the bottom, a foot of blue-green water above your head, a large rock in your lap to keep you down, and the minnows that startle easily gather around you. You are so much bigger than them–they swim over and under your calves and duck close under your chin, looking for any place to hide from larger fish.

The bluegills, with their sunny bellies lurk further away. Wary of how you loom over the minnows. Their spiny fins look deadly compared to the small, rounded ones that propel the smaller fish. When they swoop close, trying to snatch a minnow, the sunlight catches on their scales, highlighting the vibrant red oranges of their bellies. They certainly look more predatory than the minnows. But you know the spines and bright colors are more defensive than offensive. Bluegills might be dangerous in the shallows, but in deeper water, they’re on the menu.

Finally, your lungs give—your ribs convulsing once in warning. The movement sends the minnows scattering. Pushing the heavy rock away, you’re suddenly at the surface.

Everything is overwhelming the moment you break the surface. Annual cicadas buzz—loud, high-pitched, and fast. The sunshine is blindly bright. Birds call back and forth. And a squad of vehicles crunches over the gravel path to the campground’s main office, the driver of the last one smacking their horn in a quick burst that startles you.

You push your goggles up onto your forehead, blinking hard against the fresh air. The sight of others surprises you. It shouldn’t.

The lake isn’t massive, certainly nowhere near the scale considered “impressive,” but it’s big enough that while you can see from one side to the other, you can’t swim across without some kind of endurance training. There are waterways leading to and from the lake, namely a deeper stream which feeds into a river boaters like to take. You spent your first night here tracing a map of all the connections until your finger found the ocean.

The lake prohibits fishing, and only the campground owner is allowed to use motorized boats on the water. You hauled yourself onto the dock. The sign at the end of it announces the swimming hours—between noon and 4 pm. Only four hours. The strange rules cut down a lot of people’s summer plans at the lake.

Your towel is sun-warm, dry, and fluffy. You aren’t quite ready to leave the lake yet, though swimming hours are almost over. Instead, you drape the towel over your shoulders and let your legs dangle in the cool water. Water bugs skate over the placid water’s surface, elegantly moving in patterns that you don’t understand but admire all the same.

The new arrivals are loud and excited behind you. Their car doors slam and you hear them joking together. Though they’re too far away for you to make out what they’re saying.

You turn your head, catching sight of the tail end of the group. A short redhead and a taller blond seem to bicker, their stances tense in the office doorway. They’re close, though, nearly nose-to-nose. Your weight shifts, leaning a little closer, trying to see their faces better.

Something closes around your ankle, still in the water. Warm, alive, and strong. It tugs and you’re jerked forward on the dock; the wood scraping against the exposed underside of your thighs. You shriek and jerk back.

For a split second, you’re hindered, and you’re certain that whatever has a hold of you isn’t going to let go. But then it releases and you tumble backward. Your skull cracks against the dock with a sharp stab of pain.

You scramble to your feet. When you look at your ankle, you don’t see anything. Not a mark or a scratch. Your heart pounds wild and scared in your chest. Laughter breaks out from behind you. The blond, his long hair covering half his face, has seen you freak out. Embarrassment warms your cheeks.

His laugh breaks your fear. You feel silly. A curious fish had probably just gotten too close to your ankle. You exhale, fingers twisting in the comfort of your towel. It’s time to get out, anyway.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

The office is small, the tiled floor a dingy white with tread marks a person could spend days scrubbing and they’d still be there. Pictures of the campgrounds, guests, posters, and lists of information cover the walls.

Half the office is a store. A big display fridge hums in the back, hosting neatly organized rows of beverages and cold things. Someone neatly stacked bags of ice in the bottom. Canned goods and snacks with long shelf lives take up space on a single display rack. There’s a window unit propped up by a ten-gallon bucket next to the fridge and from the sound of it, catches the water dripping from the A/C as well.

But despite the constant noise, it’s quiet in here. The group earlier cleared out. The only person left is the campground’s owner. He stands behind the counter that also serves as his desk. You watch him from the corner of your eye while browsing the snacks offered on display. He writes on a piece of paper in slow, smooth movements while the other hand holds a paper fan.

How he’s hot in this little building is beyond you. Then again, you’re in nothing but your bathing suit and a towel, a coin purse in your hand.

You bought groceries before you came, of course. Easy to make camp fair you can make on one of the many grills outside or on the single hotplate in your cabin. Snacks included. There’s no need for you to be in here.

Except that you’re nosy. You haven’t seen anyone else in the campground since arriving. The strangers that stopped by didn’t exactly look like camper material either. It’s a benign sort of curiosity. Something new to poke at more than a real need to know.

You need a plan of action– way to ask the dark-haired man who his previous guests were. When you checked in, you got the impression he was not a talkative person. Shamefully, you can’t recall his name until you spot the nameplate on the counter by the register.

Itachi Uchiha. Certainly an interesting name.

Your stalling comes to an end when he glances up, his dark eyes meeting yours over the top of the display shelves. You duck your head with a silent curse. Grabbing the first thing you can reach, you head to the counter with it.

“Did you find everything okay?” He’s soft-spoken and reserved, his question a rehearsed line more than genuine care.

“Yeah, was just looking for a quick snack. Worked up an appetite swimming,” you lie, putting the treat down.

He sets his pen aside and his long, pale fingers clack against an old register’s keys. The total reads in dim green numbers on a tiny screen that faces toward you. You’re a little disappointed that he’s more focused on his job than continuing the conversation. But you accept it without complaint, handing the due amount over.

“You stayed out there longer than usual,” he says after a beat longer. The register closes with a scrape of metal against metal. There’s a change in his tone, something more amused. “The sign says swimming is closed at 4 pm.”

Your eyes cut away from the path of the creases in Itachi’s face, floundering to focus on anything except him. You almost miss seeing of the upturned corner of his mouth. The big window behind him, decorated with receipts, old order forms, and sticky notes, has a clear view of the lake. And the dock you spend most of the swimming hours on.

“Did I? Sorry, it’s easy to lose track of time out here!” As you apologize, your eyes find the analog clock on the wall above the entrance door. It’s almost five o’clock—an hour over.

“Try not to make a habit of it,” Itachi says, not unkindly. He leaves your purchase for you to collect and resumes writing.

However, you’re not quite ready to let the conversation end. “Is it a slow week? It’s pretty empty for a weekend, isn’t it?”

“No. We’re out of the way. Locals give us the most business in the fall.”

“Oh. Was that group earlier local, then?”

The sound of pen scratching paper pauses.

You look back and find him watching you, face impassive. It makes your mouth go dry, but you press on. “They seemed pretty lively, huh?”

“They are. You would be wise to stay out of their way while they’re here,” he answers after another beat. The way he says it makes you feel like the kid who isn’t in on the joke.

“Noted.” You take the packaged snack off the counter. The plastic crinkles under your grip. “Have a good day, Itachi.”

He doesn’t return the sentiment.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

The cabins don’t have private showers. The campground shares a bathhouse instead. Fours stalls for toilets on one side of the building. Four enclosed stalls for somewhat private showering on the other side. Then a heated bath in the other half of the building. Being the only camper these past two days has felt like a luxury.

Well, luxury is a bit of a stretch.

Like the campground office-store, the bathhouse is an older building. You can only assume that only the most pressing repairs get done around here. Spiderwebs are in every nook and cranny of the place with new ones every day. There are small floodlights on either side of the door and in the dusky haze of evening, the spiders have a veritable feast gathering at their doorsteps.

For you, however, it’s like walking through a bait ball on land and the bait gets its revenge. You’ve made it mostly intact this trip, but when you open the bathhouse door, you duck as a heavy-shelled beetle goes sailing past your head.

The inside of the bathhouse is a little unsettling. The walls are the same thick white-painted cement blocks as the outside and the floor is bare concrete. Both of which make it echo. The showers don’t drain well and underneath the smell of harsh cleaning chemicals is the faint scent of stagnant water. There are four yellow fluorescent lights on the ceiling and one of them flickers at random intervals like some Morse code in its dying days.

But this being your third night visiting, you have outgrown your fear of it. You set your travel bag of non-essentials on the ledge above a sink before taking the shower at the end of the line. It has the best water pressure out of the four. But it lacks the coat hooks the other ones have. You balance your clean pajamas and towel over the stall door and your bathroom caddy sits on the ground.

Calling the bathhouse luxury is a stretch indeed.

You strip out of your bathing suit. A small amount of lake debris has gathered under the elastic band. The water is lukewarm when you first turn it on. You hold a hand under the spray, waiting for it to warm, shifting from one foot to the other on the plastic slip-resistant mat on the floor.

The lake will be colder than this with the cooling nighttime temperatures. It’s unfortunate the swimming hours are so short. The chorus of small frogs, crickets, and katydids is peaceful compared to their daytime counterparts. If the night is clear and the wind is still, the lake’s surface calms enough it reflects the night sky. It would be like swimming through the stars themselves.

However, you would hate to ruin the wildlife’s routines. You snort quietly to yourself once you step into the now steaming water. If you were a raccoon, the last thing you would want is to come to the lake’s banks to wash your breakfast and see some half-naked fleshy thing swimming at your table.

You snort at the mental image.

After a long day of sunscreen, lake water, and sweat showers feel rewarding. Like you’ve earned it. It certainly feels that way as you scrub the grime from your skin.

You want to soak in the bath tonight too. With the group Itachi warned you about coming in, you aren’t sure you want to be caught naked out there. You would stick to showering for the rest of your stay, but tonight you were going to take full advantage of the bathhouse.

Perhaps, though, you aren’t quite used to the hollow feeling of the building yet. Or maybe you’re still unnerved by the fish biting at your ankle.

It starts with a fleeting thought. Just a passing whisper from your mind that maybe you aren’t alone. Your chest tightens and the hand scrubbing soap against your skin jerks.

You huff at yourself, trying to be rational. The only other person on the grounds is Itachi, and you have yet to bump into him at the bathhouse. There isn’t anyone else here. But the baby hairs on the back of your neck raise. It feels like someone is trying to stare a hole into your back.

Your heart pounds in your chest. Like a child too afraid to look under the bed, you’re struck with the idea that when you turn, there will be someone standing right behind you—breathing down your neck. The feelings increase with the staccato of your heartbeats. Until finally you cannot stand it anymore and you twist, eyes wide to meet—nothing.

There’s absolutely nothing and no one behind you. You almost roll your eyes at yourself, exhaling with relief. Though, you peek over the top of the stall door, just to confirm that you’re alone in the bathhouse. Your mind is on edge. After the bath, you’ll go back to your cabin and go to bed at a decent hour rather than stay up reading to lamplight.

You’ve just stepped back into the warmth of the shower spray when the bathhouse door creaks open.

Everything inside you comes to a screeching halt. Your heart slams against your rib cage like a panicked, trapped bird. Terror floods your system like a bucket of ice-cold water. Thoughts fly through your brain, too frantic to focus long enough to hold on to one. You need to pull clothes on, need to find something to defend yourself. You need to—you don’t know what you need to do in this situation.

You stand there helpless, naked as the day you were born, with no idea what to do now that someone has come into the bathhouse with you. You’re so scared that you can’t move.

Instead, you listen. It feels like you’re going to burst an eardrum with how hard you strain to catch a noise. It’s hard to hear over the shower and after a few minutes of gathering courage, you snake a hand out to turn the water off.

You stand there listening for so long, staring at the wall of the shower, that your vision blurs and you get light-headed.

There isn’t a single sound except your frantic heart and the gurgle of water doing down the pipes. After far too long, you try to rationalize it. The door isn’t heavy, made to be easily accessible. In theory, a breeze could blow it open.

If it opened at all. It’s entirely possible you imagined it.

Your sleep schedule still isn’t great. The stress from the city, from being let go—maybe it’s affecting you more than you originally thought. Staying up late reading horror novels isn’t helping either.

You take a shaky inhale, trying to force your nerves to calm. Everything is fine, you’re fine. You turn, reaching your hand out for your towel. You meet the gaze of someone very tall. His eyes are small, beady, and bloodshot, and staring at you.

The sight of a face peeping over the shower stall’s door, gray-blue and cast in the shadow of a flickering fluorescent light, sucks all the air from your lungs. There are markings on the person’s cheeks, sharp and angular, but you can’t quite make them out. Dark blue hair drips with water, wild despite being soaked.

It seems like everything stops, coming to a deathly stand-still before you scream. It rips so violently from your throat, tearing at the soft flesh of your esophagus, that it throws you back. Your eyes shut tightly when your back hits the steam-wet cement brick wall, hands flying to cover yourself.

There’s noise, the sound of things falling on the floor, the startled shuffling backward—then barely covered laughter just as the bathhouse door creaks open and close again.

It’s the laugh that catches you off-guard. You hear it over the scream dying in your mouth. And when your teeth clack together, you begin to put things together. You feel stupid in an instant. The bastards confirm it when you hear their laughter further away, muffled by the bathhouse walls.

The group Itachi warned you about.

They must have come back while you were in the shower. How they figured out you were in here is beyond you, but isn’t hard to guess with how small the campground is.

Where they had gotten it or why they had put a stupid—if realistic—Halloween mask on to scare you is also beyond rational thought. But after seeing your little freak out on the dock, you wouldn’t put it past them to dress up like some swamp creature to scare you.

From the two you had seen, they were at least your age or older. Adults acting like jerk teenagers had you cross. Angrily, you dry yourself and throw on your pajamas.

You don’t bother going through with the bath or the rest of your nightly routine. Instead, you stalk from the bathhouse, across the gravel road and to the big cabin a couple of cars are now parked outside of. The blond man stands at the door, his arms braced on the lip of the door to hold himself upright while he teased someone inside. Water drips from his long yellow hair.

You clear your throat loud and ugly. It catches the blond’s attention quickly. He glances at you over his shoulder, his brows furrowed in apparent confusion. A second later, recognition flashes across his face and he turns to you, his lips parting in a smile—a greeting on the tip of his tongue. But you’re not having it.

“Listen, pal, I do not care what you and your little friends do but do not fuck with me,” you steel your nerves as you bite out your words.

He hunches his shoulders at the threat, his expression dropping into something hostile. “Excuse me?”

“Your pranks aren’t funny. I’ll stay out of your way if you stay out of mine, okay?” You don’t give him the benefit of the doubt.

“What are you even talking about? Back the hell up,” he snaps back. There’s a nasal grunt at the end of his sentences.

It irks you that he’s playing dumb.

You catch sight of red hair coming up behind him. You’ve told him off, but you don’t think you can handle reinforcements. So you give him one more warning look, tug your bathroom caddy close, and stomp the few feet to your own cabin.

Neighbors. Great.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

The windows of your little cabin rattling from something loud and heavy scares you awake. You scramble in your sheets, heart pounding before you free yourself of fabric and realize it’s music. It comes through the panes of glass muffled, but you can hear it now that you’re conscious. It’s full of drums and rage against society.

It sounds good—would have sounded good if it weren’t seven in the morning.

You groan into your hands, far too tired to be awake. Considering how late your neighbors got in last night, it’s surprising they’re up so early. But they’re obviously making it your problem as well.

The music continues to blast at top volume for the hour it takes to get your day started. There’s a pause after breakfast where the mirror stops shaking. It gives you a clear view of your bloodshot eyes and puffy eye bags. The respite of silence is short-lived. You bite down on your toothbrush when pop music takes the place of heavy metal.

It goes through several more changes, ranging from country music to techno before it quiets downs again. You’ve put on a cute, comfy outfit for the day, draped a towel over your shoulder, and picked out an easy-to-read book to lounge on the dock with.

You brace yourself, hand on the door handle, for just a moment before stepping into the summer day. It’s hot but lacks the humidity from previous days. The sun shines brightly overhead, with only a few puffy clouds drifting through the blue, blue sky. Cicadas call from the trees. This is your vacation. Your new camping neighbors cannot take this from you.

In the next second, pushing the door open just a little more to step out fully, you’re doused in freezing cold water. It’s such a stark difference in temperatures that it burns. You scream, unable to hold it back. Your muscles lock up from the shock, and you can’t dodge the bucket when it comes down too. It thunks against your skull, still a quarter of the way full. It hurts like a bitch and nearly knocks you off your feet.

You grit your teeth, pushing through the tightness of your shocked muscles and the ringing in your ears. Your neighbors laugh, loud and mean. You’re grateful, in a terrible way, that no one can see the tears among the rest of the water dripping down your face.

“That’s who you’re wasting your time on?” an unfamiliar voice asks, clearly unimpressed.

You glance up, seeing a man with stitching tattoos peeking out from under the sleeveless shirt he wears. Saying he looks intimidating is an understatement. He sits on an ice chest, a speaker crooning something low next to him. The two he’s speaking to—the blond from before and a taller, silver-haired man—clearly don’t hear him.

Your teeth chatter, your mouth twisting into something you hope is unpleasant.

The youthful-looking man with the dull, apathetic eyes is there too, pulling something from the trunk of his car. “Children will act accordingly.”

You blink, droplets of water falling from your lashes, before looking away from them. Despite the warm air, you shiver with cold. The water has soaked your towel too. But your book is dry.

Your book is dry. The vitriolic heat burning your tongue cools when you register that fact.

From the corner of your eye, you catch sight of a silhouette at the edge of the office building. Itachi stands outside, leaning against the white-painted brick. You can’t see his face clearly from where you stand, but you feel his disappointed gaze.

It reeks of “I told you so.” Your gaze drops. The last thing you want is to be kicked out of the campgrounds and have your getaway cut short by your own behavior. When you look back up, he’s gone.

You shoot a glare at the four men gathered in front of the cabin next to yours. The blond shifts his weight to a leg, jutting a hip out. He grins, smug. He’d be handsome if the back of your head didn’t ache and your skin wasn’t just now thawing out.

“Deidara, leave it,” the redhead says sharply. Like calling back a dog.

He snorts and you bite back something mean. Your book is dry and in an hour on the dock, so will you. However, you take their plastic blue bucket. If they want it back, they’ll have to really fight for it.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

The sunshine is warm on your back, the gentle lapping of water against the shore soothing you into a comforting feeling. You think about getting in once swimming hours open, but hesitate, thinking about whatever touched your foot yesterday. But it’s your lovely neighbors dragging kayaks out onto the water that makes up your mind for you.

You’ve made it halfway through your book before Deidara seeks you out again.

“You look like you recovered from your shower this morning!” There’s a surprising friendliness in his voice when he calls your name.

Your fingers tighten around the edge of your book, the paper giving slightly. He’s under dressed to be kayaking in deep water—not a life jacket in sight. His shoulders are already turning red. You wonder where he learned your name from. Had Itachi told him?

“I have. Thanks for the concern.” You are far less inviting.

It doesn’t deter him. He dips his paddle in the water, bringing the bright orange kayak closer. The nose of it bumps into a wooden pole and you feel the vibration through the dock.

“Oh, that’s where that thing went,” he says once he’s closer. “Smart.”

Your eyes follow his gaze, landing on the blue bucket. You’ve filled it with ice from the office, drinks buried in it to keep them cold. Irritation pops between your teeth when you say, “It works great. Keeps things real cold.”

“You don’t say…” It’s unfair how pretty he is, with his mouth cocked to the side in that smug way of his. “What are you reading?”

“A book.”

“You’re a straightforward one, aren’t you?”

His grin only grows wider. You think of the knot on the back of your head. Your eyes drop and you turn the page of your book, not reading the words.

“We got off on the wrong foot but look, I’m willing to forgive and forget, alright?” he offers, like you’ve asked for it.

You have to bite back an ugly remark. He shifts in his seat. The squeak of his water shoes against the kayak is loud in the silence. Even the cicadas have gone quiet, as if silencing themselves to spectate this uncomfortable encounter. You turn another page.

Deidara isn’t good at silence. He shows you so in the next moment when his paddle comes up and knocks your book from your hands. It was spared from the prank this morning, but it is the sole victim this afternoon. It lands with a splash on the other side of the blond.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you snarl at him.

“Hey, I didn’t mean for it to go in the wat—”

You don’t touch him—a fact you repeat adamantly later. When Deidara’s kayak suddenly flips, his single cornflower blue eye widening in alarm, you aren’t even close to him.

Your hand reels back in a fist, ready to slug him, but you don’t touch him. Something grabs the lip of the opening of the kayak—you see pale blue, the arc of water droplets catching sunlight like gems—and flips the little boat.

It’s chaos from there. It happens so fast you can do nothing but watch. You don’t feel afraid while he thrashes under the surface, kicking up water and mud.

When Deidara breaks the surface, he’s screaming. Red slashes mar his chest. They’re horrible. The edges of the skin are ragged. Parts of it flap with his panic, barely remaining connected to him. He scrambles to climb atop the flipped kayak, yelling at you.

You think of the knot on the back of your head. It hurts.

It’s Deidara’s friends that save him, eventually. The silver-haired man, Hidan you learn, paddles up, teasing him for being scared of little lake fish. Until he sees the blood. It’s not worry that he uses when he hauls the blond out of the water, though. He seems annoyed at the blood being spilled everywhere, and that Deidara won’t stop screaming that it was a person down there.

The man turns on you until Deidara says it wasn’t you. It doesn’t look like Hidan believes him, but he also can’t believe someone like you could do that kind of damage.

You suggest a hospital, but they both shut the idea down quickly. The other two arrive and they go into the office building, Itachi holding the door open for them. He watches you with his dark eyes.

You feel like he blames you. A part of you blames yourself as well. You should have reached out to help him at least.

You pick up the plastic handle of the bucket and go back home to the cabin.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

The evening is quieter. There’s a bullfrog croaking outside your window, cracked just enough to let an unusually cool breeze in.

You’re watching one of the movies you downloaded on your laptop. It’s an old, black-and-white film. It’s entertaining despite its age, but you think you’re made of stronger stuff than to be scared by it. Especially during this scene, where the lead actress is just swimming. Beautiful, of course, with perfectly practiced flips in the water.

People’s fascination with the underwater world hasn’t changed. You included.

The music changes, sharp and threatening as it pans away from the woman and to the monster lurking in the thick netting of green water weeds.

Knock, knock, knock.

Three gentle but obvious taps against your door startle you. Made of stronger stuff indeed. Your first thought is your neighbors, your mouth set into a thin line. But you haven’t heard a peep from them all evening. You give your unexpected visitor the silence treatment, hoping they’d get the hint and leave.

Knock, knock, knock.

Or not.

You’re aware of yourself. Guilt makes you defensive. You should have reached for Deidara, tried to help him somehow. Acknowledging you’re being cagey doesn’t help, though.

Finally, you sigh and call out, “What do you want?”

Silence is the response. It extends for so long that it makes you uneasy. You pause your movie and sit up on the bed. The bullfrog croaks, deep and bassy outside the window. A voice answers just as you're about to stand and move toward the door.

“I have your book.” The voice is raspy, rough—out of practice.

Your heart pounds in your chest, quick like a frightened bird. You like to think you’re good at picking up on voices, and this one is entirely unfamiliar. Your tongue swipes over your lips. “Thank you…?”

You aren’t sure what you’re supposed to say. It feels wrong, somehow. After everything today, you hadn’t had the chance to worry about the book you had lost. The book Deidara had knocked into the lake.

There isn’t an answer to the drawn-out pause left for them to give their name. In fact, there isn’t any noise on the other side of the door. It makes your mouth go dry and your stomach queasy. You’re filled with so much anxiety it’s hard to breathe. It presses in on you, suffocating. Until you get to your feet and go to the door.

This is stupid. You know it’s stupid. You’d be snarking at the character on-screen that opening the door is an incredibly stupid idea. But not knowing feels so much worse.

You open the cabin door, just a crack to peek. There’s no one there.

Chagrin floods your cheeks. You aren’t familiar with your neighbors. That’s all. One of Deidara’s friends must have returned the book in apology.

The book in question is set in front of the door. Its pages are sun-dried and stiff with water damage. The cheap ink has bled, smearing a lot of the words. But it’s kind of sweet that they returned the book after everything. You flip to the page you had been reading when it was knocked from your hands, then nearly drop it.

The pages here are soaked red, glued together by something thicker than water.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟. The week will end soon.

You try not to let it loom over you, but it’s there—in the quiet gaps between cicada songs and in the stagnant heat of the day. But it is most obvious in the “No Swimming” sign Itachi posted after Deidara’s accident. You can only watch the minnows darting underwater like quicksilver now. It’s an unsatisfactory goodbye.

You stop, sweat dripping from every roll and crinkle in your skin, to uncap your water bottle before downing half of it. The handle of the blue plastic bucket sits in the bend of your elbow, half-full of lakeside debris: fallen leaves, twigs, some acorns, little round pebbles. Things for you to shift through later and make little handmade things for souvenirs. Most campsites are strongly against the practice, but Itachi is indifferent.

You hadn’t planned to take this hike around the lake, but you’ve already made it to the other side. A sigh leaves your lips when you toss the water bottle back into the bucket. You’re being avoidant as well. Your “neighbors” are still around. They’ve pestered you about everything from borrowing your grill lighter to trying to bully you into drinking with them.

Deidara, with white bandages peeking out from under his shirt, has been the most persistent. It’s flattering, in a vain way, to have the blond’s attention. But you aren’t stupid enough to get involved with whatever that group has going on.

If you let him hit? You would never live it down.

You shudder at the phantom catcalling and jeering as you come up to a bend in the trail. There’s running water here, one of the streams that cut away from the main lake. Further down, you can see a bridge that goes over it.

You hear the sound of splashing above the babbling of the stream. It’s not obvious and if you hadn’t stopped you don’t think you would have heard it. You listen to the noise for a while before curiosity gets the better of you.

You’re so nosy.

Stepping off the path, into unmaintained woodland doesn’t feel as foreboding as it should, considering all the stories that come from doing something like this. The sun is too bright, too warm, and the shade too thin to be anything but pleasant to step into. But your gut still tightens. Something brushes against the back of your mind, warning you it could be an animal you don’t want to startle.

But you’re already so close to the source of the splashing. The undergrowth here is denser, the trees coming together in thick green webs of leaves. You peek through them, eyes wide as movement catches your attention immediately. The person on the side, down in the stream rips the breath from your lungs.

The overhead foliage blankets the stream in shadow, dark and damp—a contrast to the warm sunlight caressing your back. While you watch him, a peculiar mix of emotions stirs within. Despite the well-defined muscles, he looks almost sickly, as if he might be unwell. His cheeks are hollow, his face is made up of harsh angles, and his skin is a soft, pale blue-gray that seems more pronounced in the shade.

You watch the water roll up his arms and over his shoulders in wild arcs. Standing with his legs apart and bent at the waist, he appears entirely absorbed in his task, his hands chasing something unseen in the murky water.

Each movement causes the muscles under his skin to ripple. His tall frame moves with a sense of purpose, exuding both grace and strength. There’s something captivating about his presence, an allure that draws you in despite the uncertainty.

A bolt of fear strikes like lightning as you catch sight of his face. You’ve seen him before. You’re the one peeping now, it seems. You should leave—the thought nags at you, screaming in the back of your skull. Whoever, whatever he is, you know he’s dangerous. The shark-like appearance cannot be a coincidence. But a part of you refuses to move. Rooted to the ground, you watch the flex of his biceps, lick your lips at the downward turn of his mouth while he concentrates hard on his task.

You’re fascinated by something so different.

His hands snap out again, closing around something finally by the grin that flashes across his face. Porcelain white teeth, pointed and sharp, catching a sliver of sunshine.

The tiny body of a muddy green frog almost escapes his palms, flinging itself desperately from the giant that holds it. He moves with it, refusing to let it go. You watch, mouth parted, though you aren’t breathing anymore. The man, his eyes gleaming, presses his hands together.

Squeezing and squeezing until—there’s an awful popping sound and pink-stained water drips between the man’s fingers. It’s terrible what he’s done with that handsome grin on his face.

Then he tosses the dead thing toward the bank below you. Two little raccoons, too small to be on their own chitter in excitement. They run forward to where the frog’s guts spill into the mud, squabbling over it before their fighting tears the body in half. They feast like they’re starving.

It’s gross and makes your stomach queasy. But it offers understanding. He’s feeding them. In an archaic, far too gruesome way, but feeding the animals nonetheless.

Your eyes leave the small raccoons, returning to the strange man. He’s looking at you now, too. His grin is gone, faded into a thin frown. You’ve been caught, the blood draining from your face.

Neither of you make the first move.

The baby raccoons, licking their lips after their frog, chatter at him from the water’s edge. They slap the surface, splashing each other by accident when he ignores them. They’re impatient and demanding. The shark-man glances between them and you. Contemplating, he shifts his weight, disturbing the flow of water around his calves. It’s a tiny movement, barely anything at all, but it causes you to flinch back. And the frown on his face deepens.

“What are you lurking like a pervert for?” he calls out, a lilt of sarcasm in his voice.

His strikingly recognizable voice. You’re relieved, somewhat, to know he can speak. Then feel stupid for the assumption he couldn’t. “You’re one to talk.”

“Me? No no, I would never go around peeping at people like that,” he responds quickly. As if he’s eager to be talking with you. “Especially not you. Not with how much you go around shrieking.”

Your stomach twists itself into knots. It strangles the butterflies. This feels surreal to you. You shouldn’t, but you find yourself pushing back the branches of the trees to ease yourself down the slope of the bank, the temperature dropping when the sun can no longer touch you. The little raccoons scamper away with unwelcoming hisses when they spot you.

“Thank you, for bringing my book back,” you say before trepidation can stop you. You can feel it in your gut that getting closer is a bad idea.

The man doesn’t move from his spot in the stream. His expression shifts from his half-smug teasing to more of a question. It’s reflected when he speaks again, “What book?”

“The one that fell into the lake. I recognize your voice.”

“Just from hearing it one time, huh? You sure?”

“I can remember voices pretty okay and yours is very—well everything about you kind of stands out.”

He pauses for a heartbeat, various emotions flickering across his face before he chuckles, “I’ll take that as a compliment from you.”

Oh.

Your stomach swoops in a distinctly different way from fear this time. It shocks you. Somehow you’ve inched closer and mud wells up around the soles of your sandals. Your throat bobs when you swallow your nerves down.

“What’s your name?” you ask him the words a little strained with how tight your throat is.

His sharp, beady eyes observe you intently. Again you find that as unnerving as his gaze is, you don’t dislike it.

“If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you,” he says, his tone light. The way he smiles at you is not comforting.

“Is that code for you don’t have one?” It’s half-playful and wholly unsure. Is it rude to ask another being if they have a name? You offer your own name in the next breath.

He takes it, chewing on it a few times like he’s deciding if he likes it or not.

Suddenly, you’re the frog. Your heartbeat is frantic in your chest once more, desperate for something you’re not sure about. And blindly you think you’re leaping toward the threat when he says your name a final time, his tongue swiping across his blue lips.

“Kisame,” he tells you.

“Kisame,” you murmur, holding the word too gently. “A little on the nose isn’t it?”

“You shouldn’t be so relaxed,” he warns you. “I really could kill you.”

He’s serious. You can feel it in how he looks at you. In the cool shade of the trees crowding too close with the cicada still silent, you know he can. Still, your mouth opens your mouth to protest. Maybe you’re still the desperate frog, jumping the wrong way.

But you hesitate. And he latches onto that hesitation.

You see his plan in the wicked curve of his grin returning before he does it. But you still squeal when he lungs forward, his big arms scooping up water and splashing you in a great wave. The bucket slips from the crook of your arm, cracking against the mud.

His hand, rough but warm, brushes against the exposed small of your back when you turn, fleeing up the side of the bank like a drowned rat. His booming laughter follows on your heels when you return to your cabin.

Your heart is pounding and you stupidly want to see him again.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

The first mistake you make is with Deidara.

You’re outside cutting up pieces of your favorite fruit. Fresh and in season, it’s quite a treat. The juice slips down your knife and onto your fingers. You don’t the like the stickiness as much but tolerate it for your snack. The cicadas are at full volume again and sitting beside you is your journal, with glue drying leaves to one of the pages.

It’s a nice day, with a light breeze that occasionally sweeps past you. It makes you drowsy.

You watch the lake. After meeting him, you’re certain it was Kisame that grabbed your foot and injured Deidara. Every disturbance on the water makes you hopeful. Disappointment fills your chest when nothing comes from it. Your ride these up-and-down mood swings for most of the day.

You have to wonder if Itachi knows about Kisame. Is that why he put up the sign? You’re itching to ask, but if he doesn’t you’d sound out of your mind. Or be exposing Kisame’s existence. Which feels worse than being called crazy.

You don’t want to admit there’s selfishness at play too. A part of you resists the idea of sharing the secret you now know. You want to keep Kisame for yourself.

You pop another slice of fruit into your mouth, swiping away the juice that dribbles down your chin with the back of a hand. There’s another disturbance on the water, right next to the dock that’s more agitated—

A figure steps in front of you with a grunt of your name, blocking the view. You sit up in your chair, snorting as you meet Deidara’s gaze. He holds it for a second before darting away. His painted nails tug at his shirt, pulling it up to cover the stark white bandages.

He opens his mouth once, twice, before he finally says, “Hey.”

You chew the flesh of another slice of fruit, holding your gaze on him. When you swallow you drop your eyes to watch the blade of the knife cut another one. “What do you need Deidara?”

“I don’t need anything,” he snaps back too quickly. “Can’t a guy just say hi to his neighbor?”

“Then, hi.”

“You don’t have to say it like that.”

You stop what you’re doing, lips pressing into a flat line. Deidara’s gaze doesn’t waver when you meet it this time. A muscle in his jaw twitches. The mutual annoyance feels heavier than the humidity in the air.

You’re being unfair to him and you know it. The first night they were here you had torn out of the bathhouse, picking a fight with them. But it had been Kisame who had been peeping on you, you’re sure of it despite his denial.

But everything else he had done himself. He didn’t deserve the apology on the tip of your tongue.

“You like art?” he tries again, smoothing the irritation from his expression. You glance at the journal he gestures to.

“Yeah.” You can’t make yourself happy with the conversation change.

“I do art,” Deidara continues as if you’ve asked. “Not any of this kid stuff, of course. I have an appreciation for finer art. The kind of beauty you can only see for a fleeting moment before it’s gone, the aftermath of it vibrating through you.”

He’s animated, his hands moving as he speaks. Whatever he’s talking about, it’s obvious it’s his passion. But you’re stuck on the fact he called your glued-on leaves and scribbles “kid stuff.” Deidara always has a haughty air to him, but it’s most apparent in this aspect.

You have to hide the scowl in the corner of your mouth. But it’s pointless when you say, “So like fireworks?”

Deidara catches you immediately. He scents the mockery in words like blood in the water. His eye flashes, dangerous and scorned.

“I’ll have to show you what I mean sometime,” he offers, challenging.

“Maybe,” you reply. He frowns at the rejection.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

The second mistake you make is not locking the door to your cabin.

Well, it’s more so that you’re listening to that damn fluttery feeling in your stomach. You nearly vomit twice from the nerves before you settle onto the bed—it’s neatly made up and smells of air freshener to hide a week worth’s of you.

Your laptop is open, the fans whirring while another black-and-white movie plays on-screen. It’s the sequel to the previous one you watched.

You can’t focus on it, though. Picking at your nails, chewing on the inside of your lip, and glancing like a fugitive at the door takes up more of your attention. For once, you hate the isolation of the campground. You’d be less nervous if your phone had a connection to the outside so you could doom scroll the hours away.

Music from your neighbors rumbles through the walls. It’s nowhere near the volume of their first full day here, but tonight it’s full of spite and bass again. Occasionally you hear one of them belting out the lyrics.

You bite down a tad too hard on the tender flesh inside your mouth. The taste of copper spreads across the tip of your tongue.

A scream rips through the quiet hum of the window unit and the night chirping outside. It’s so sudden it startles you, your heart jumping into your throat before you realize it’s the movie. You reach over and turn the sound down, scoffing at yourself. “Jesus, the volume is all over the place.”

“That’s what you get for pirating bad movies.”

He doesn’t give you the chance to scream, a hand clapping down over your mouth. Panic and terror rips through your system, eyes rolling wild while you try to pry his hand off. The bed dips behind you and then you’re pulled up, back pressed up against a damp chest.

Kisame’s laughter rolls over your ears, rumbles against your back. And your heart beats hard for a reason different from fear. When you stop struggling he eases his hand away and then drops something on the bed in front of you. Shiny blue plastic reflects a warped version of yourself, Kisame wrapped around you. A crack splits the image in half.

It’s filled to the brim with leaf litter.

How he came in through the door without you noticing is a mystery. It’s closed when you glance toward it.

“I’m starting to think you’re leaving excuses to see me again.” Kisame’s thumbs press into the skin of your arms. He hasn’t let fully let you go yet.

Your breathing steadies. “What?”

Lips ghost over the shell of your ear. “You keep leaving trash in my lake.”

“That’s not fair,” you start to say, then think better of it. Looking away from his plastic reflection, turning your head to look at him. He’s startling close. “The bucket technically isn’t even mine and you turned the water into a bloodbath so I couldn’t get my book back.”

“Oh, I suppose that too,” he says with an edged humor.

Your brows furrow. Then you realize what he means. Laughter, surprised and jittery tumbles out of your mouth. “Not a fan of him either, huh?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Someone has to like him, with all the confidence he’s got.”

“But not you.” There are teeth in his statement.

“Definitely not me.”

Kisame grunts in response. He’s warm against you, sturdy. And you find that you’ve relaxed into him. He notices it too, his muscles tensing. For a second you think he’s pushing you away—except he’s moving the little blue bucket he’s returned. It finds a new place on the windowsill by the bed.

You find yourself rearranged as well, scooted to the side so Kisame can sit on the bed next to you. It’s a tight fit. He takes up so much space—even more when he leans into you.

“What are you watching?” he asks, drawing your attention to movie still playing.

Warm embarrassment floods your system. You flounder for words, only to mumble, “A bad sequel.” He snorts and you offer, “You wanna finish it with me? Or… do you need go back into the lake?”

Kisame watches you for breath, considering. “You’re awfully comfortable next to someone who could kill you.”

That gives you pause. The words you want to say are sticky in your throat. They’ll choke you if you try to speak them to life.

You like that he’s dangerous. You like his sharp teeth. You like the way his fingers have inched under your shirt to trace the line of your spine—

“That doesn’t answer the question. Do you dry out on land?” you refocus the conversation.

“I’ll be fine for a couple of hours,” he chuckles, low and raspy.

“Good then buckle up for a feature film from the 1950s.” You give him another pause to change his mind. But when he leans back, his hands behind his head, you settle in next to him.

His brows raise when the antagonist appears on-screen. The costume—a feat of practical effects for it’s time but now barely believable—is awkward on land and even more so when it swoops the female lead for the movie up. Another loud shriek crackles out of the speakers.

You’re deathly quiet while it plays out–a back-and-forth between the hero and the monster before it escapes out to sea. The main couple embrace after the ordeal, but there’s still a third of the movie to go so it’s not over.

Kisame sits with you while it plays out. His mouth closed, eyes intent on the screen. He knows quite a bit for not being human. You wonder if he was one once, or if he learned everything somewhere.

“Does Itachi know about you?” You break the comfortable silence when the credits begin to roll. Somehow the two of you have become entangled, hands touching places bordering overly-friendly.

“You ask a lot of questions.” Kisame is quick to answer, a hand sliding a little lower on your hip. His nails scrape at the sensitive flesh, not friendly at all. “You worried he’d see you with a swamp monster?”

“Not at all,” you say just as easily.

He hesitates at the elastic band of your pj bottoms. Teases the flesh of your hip. “He does. We have…an arrangement of sorts.”

The question must be plain on your face because Kisame laughs. It makes your heart squeeze and a heat flare between your thighs.

“I’m not fucking him,” he says just as plainly, his grin half-feral at the expression you must be making. “Don’t let him fool you. Itachi’s more dangerous than I am. But he hates getting his hands dirty. Sharks gotta eat. He keeps the lake mostly free of shitheads.”

You swallow thickly. His tone is light, joking, but his gaze is sharp. Testing.

“Is he how you know so much about everything?” you ask, voice quiet. Trying to keep the mental images from rushing to the forefront of your mind.

You know you’ve made a mistake when his expression clouds, dark and stormy. “No.” He pulls away so quickly it leaves you cold and falling onto the blanket. “Movie’s over. Try to pick a better one next time.”

Kisame slips out of the cabin as quietly as he came in. He takes the heat of the summer night with him.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

The third mistake you make is drowning in desperation.

The sun burns hot outside, the humidity is the worst it’s been all week. Cicadas scream, loud and wretched in their search for a mate.

You slept like shit after Kisame left. Your morning is filled with a back-and-forth of what you wanted to do and what you should do. It’s a game of tug-of-war within your mind and it shows in the shadows under your eyes.

There’s an ugly sense of longing in your chest you can’t let go of. Even when the handsome lines of Kisame’s face clashes with the vivid imagination of him knelt over a body, tearing into the gore of it with his sharp teeth. There has to be something wrong with you. Losing your job couldn’t have driven you to this in a week, could it?

You need to see him again. Before you go home.

Your despair must ooze from your pores, acting like blood in the water to those in the campground. Like with the lake, there’s a new sign at the start of the trail that goes around the lake. The one where that leads to the stream you first found Kisame in the stream. You can see it the moment you step outside, the sweltering heat swarming close to your body.

Your “neighbors” are out too. Hidan and that tattooed man haul packs of beer from the back of their truck. More than four men should have. You would have ignored them like you intend to ignore the sign, but Hidan makes an effort to catch your attention with a wave. He grins too widely to be well-meaning.

Your mouth forms a thin line. It just feels off—wrong.

Before you reach the trail, Itachi steps out of the office. His expression is unmoving as he approaches you. Your intentions are obvious. Your feet are still pointed toward the trail. He is not surprised.

“You’re causing trouble,” he says, stopping a foot away from you.

You bite the inside of your lip before you answer, “I haven’t done anything.”

His dark eyes watch you with a sense of apathy. You feel it in how he talks to you. He isn’t telling you this out of annoyance or anger. Not even out of worry. It’s as if he doesn’t care one way or the other but he knows he’ll have to deal with the aftermath no matter what.

Through sheer respect, you don’t try to step around him. You’ve wasted the morning though, you can’t just stand here.

“It’s a bad idea,” he warns again. His voice is softer. It almost makes you want to listen to him.

But your heart doesn’t want to. It bares its teeth with a petulance. “I’m grown. I don’t need to be told what to do.”

“Then let me suggest you go home before you get yourself hurt,” he intones.

Cicadas scream from the tree line behind him even louder. Furious with how long they’ve been alone, their cries unanswered. It constricts around your bones. “Are you kicking me out then?” He stares at you, silent. “I paid for the week. I’m staying until that time is up.”

“Your time is up tomorrow morning.”

Sharply you inhale. It’s a truth you don’t want to hear. It sits like rot at the forefront of your mind. Itachi doesn’t say more when you ignore him—doesn’t stop you when you walk past his “Trail Closed for Maintenance” sign.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

The emptiness in the cabin reflects the feeling in your chest. It’s pathetic, mourning like a lovesick teenager again. But you know what’s waiting for you when you go home to your tiny apartment in the city. Bills will be due. Your bank account will be empty. And you’d have to start looking for a new job.

You’ve packed away your things and tucked all but the bare essentials into your car. You want to make another trip around the lake before you leave in the morning. Just one more chance to see him again.

There hadn’t been a sign of him yesterday.

And here you are with a puffy, wet face from hurting your own feelings. Sleep can’t come fast enough. Stupidly—so undeniably idiotically—you’ve left the cabin door unlocked again.

Your “neighbors” are playing their music impossibly loud again. The glass in the windows rattles. Curling in tighter around yourself you cover your ears. It sounds so angry you can’t stand it. It’s too much noise. Too much emptiness.

Too much everything for your sad little self.

Eventually, you have to get up and dig through your bag in the car to find a sleep aid. Deidara sits on the porch outside the other cabin, drinking. It’s too dark to see properly but you can feel the heat of his stare. It burns into you long after you get back into bed.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

The laughing is what wakes you.

It feels like you’ve only just closed your eyes when the drunken snorts and giggles of men too old for it pulls them open again.

The handle turns. The door swings open. The sleep medication you took slows your reflexes, your understanding.

For a long, sluggish moment your heart flutters between your ribs.

But then the figure in the doorway splits in two and they step fully into the cabin. Pale yellow and silver catch the dim moonlight. A single, pretty blue eye meets your gaze. A mean sneer mars his expression as he looks down at you.

Deidara crouches to your level, his breath fanning over your face reeks of alcohol. Amusement is tucked into his words when he coos, “Aw look at you, hm? Did our music keep you awake?”

The nasally grunt at the ends of his words makes it hard to focus on anything else. What had he said? You blink hard, trying to remember. Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth, dry. A soft hand brushes against your cheek.

Your nose scrunches, a low warble leaving your lips as you pull away. Hidan cackles behind him.

“They’re so fucking over you,” he scoffs. “Let’s just toss them.”

“Shame,” Deidara huffs. “Would have loved to show you my art.”

Your vision swims, sleep trying to pull you back down. You remember the conversation about his art though, and snort. “Fireworks.”

The taller man finds this hilarious, nearly folding in half laughing at his friend’s expense. You aren’t sure why. The blond’s expression is thunderous–ugly and mean. You hate it.

You hate the way he digs his fingers into your face more.

“Let’s see if a dip in the lake will make you a little less bitchy,” Deidara hisses, spittal flying from his lips and hitting your face.

The sleep aid dulls your fear and that’s terribly dangerous. It doesn’t make sense to you at first. Why are they here? Why is Deidara so mean to you? Your head spins and you can’t think straight.

You’re still so sluggish when he pulls you from the bed, locking his arms under your armpits. It’s uncomfortable and you weakly protest. But it doesn’t hit you just how bad the situation is until Hidan takes hold of your legs.

You’re so fucking stupid. Everything goes sideways as you fight against them; slow, uncoordinated kicks of your legs and slurred screams. You didn’t lock the door..

They don’t have any trouble carrying you to the dock between them. Nor do they struggle when they throw you. You hear them laughing, mean, and loud again. The late-night cicadas laugh right along with them when your head goes under.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

The lake water is cold. It’s a shock to your muddled brain.

Your muscles lock tight, refusing to move at the sudden drop in temperature. It’s not terrifying at first. Just cold. Your vision blurs in the dark water, and the moon becomes a hazy image as you sink downward.

Down, down, down.

You don’t even need a rock to sink you to the bottom this time.

Then your body releases you from the shock, limbs unlocking with a rough beat of your heart and your lungs swelling to take a breath.

Except you’re underwater and instead of oxygen your lungs fill with the lake itself. It’s painful and so much worse than you ever imagined drawing would be. It feels like someone’s shoved sandpaper down your throat, into your chest and it’s grinding the soft tissue away in there. Your heart hammers as panic bursts awake under your skin.

How stupid this all is. You’ve drugged yourself—Deidara probably hasn’t even realized. You flail weakly in the darkness. You can’t see the moon above the surface anymore. There’s no way to tell which way is up and which way is down under water like this.

Pain sears, angry, and bright in your chest as your body coughs harshly to try to expel the water. There is nothing but water around you, though.

You want to scream.

You’re going to drown.

Going to die.

Something collides with your torso, even in the water it feels like you’ve been rag-dolled. Your head snaps back on your neck and everything from your lungs is forced out with no time to inhale more water. You’re terrified—so incredibly disoriented. Has your soul been ripped from your body? Are you dead?

Your head breaks the surface. Warm night air kisses your face, your cheeks, your mouth. Dazed you see stars above you, twinkling next to the half-moon above you. Silhouettes of clouds drift lazy and unhurried under them.

It’s so pretty.

A wretched sob breaks free from your chest, hacking up lake water with it. Strong hands, clawed and webbed heaves your body up and dumps you on a dock. It’s not the sun-weathered one with smoothed wood. It’s older. It leans to one side, the dark wood splintering and covered in moss.

You cough and gag up water, whoever—whatever—saved you keeping a hand on your back. It’s horrible. It hurts going out as much as it did going in. Your mind is still foggy, slowed by the sleep aid you had taken.

Finally, when you aren’t vomiting up water, you look at your savior. You recognize him instantly, though he’s different—monstrous in the most basic meaning of the word.

Kisame looms over you on the old dock, his pitch-colored eyes glinting. He is, for certain, more shark than human at this point.

He’s horrifying at first glance. His sharp features merge with a more streamlined shark body. Muscles ripple beneath scale-like patterns down his biceps and forearms, bent to accommodate the fins that sprout from them. Gills at his neck pulsate rhythmically, wet and sticky above water. A massive dorsal fin goes down his back and to a tail that stirs in the lake.

But you know it’s Kisame. You know it from the fluttering beats of your heart that’s been yearning to see him again. He’s saved you from drowning.

He jerks backward when you lift a shaky, uncoordinated hand to his face. You gently cup his jaw, not letting him avoid you. Your thumb brushes a serrated tooth. A pearl of blood beads instantly. His pupils shrink.

There’s so much you want to say–so much you need to confess.

Somewhere on the other side of the lake, Deidara is shouting. He sounds like he’s in a panic. An ungodly sound rips from Kisame’s chest. His webbed hand pushes you down, not unkindly.

“Stay,” he says. When you don’t fight him, he slips off the dock and back into the water.

You sit there, shivering in your soaked clothes feeling like you’ve been drug through hell. It’s less than a minute later when you hear the first scream.

smut warning! afab body parts named and described here! scroll down to the next divider for amab!

The screaming continues even after the cicadas fall quiet. The first one you heard ended quickly. Whoever it was died choking on their own blood. You want to pretend you don’t know who it is.

But you know both the victims and the attacker.

You should leave. Itachi’s office should have a radio or satellite phone— some way to reach help. You don’t like Deidara, but you don’t want him and his friends to die. Your stomach somersaults unpleasantly at the thought.

Getting to your feet has you wheezing by the end of it. You wobble on the first step but can make it to the second step without tipping over. You take a deep breath, you can do this.

On the third, however, your foot goes through the wood. You go down with it, the soft skin of your thigh snagging on the edge of the broken board. It happens so fast you don’t have a chance to even think about screaming. And when you realize what’s happened, you have to bite it back to keep quiet.

Katydids and frogs chirp back and forth while you cry, scooting back to pull your leg out of the hole to look at the damage. You’re bleeding but it’s not gushing blood. It’s hard to tell just how bad it is in the half-moon lighting.

You waste too much time.

A hand closes around your ankle, too close to the edge of the rotting dock. Lacking the claws and webbing between his fingers this time, and strong. He tugs you forward on the dock, the wood scraping against the exposed underside of your thighs.

Kisame doesn’t leave you wondering this time. He lifts himself out of the lake, meeting your body with his own.

Despite being in the water, the blood hasn’t washed off. It’s deep red, staining from his mouth and down his chest. It rolls downward to his naked hips. The sight plucks a cord of fear down your spine.

Just as you’re staring at the blood on him, Kisame is staring at the blood on you. His hand drags upward, over your calf. When he brushes his thumb over the scratch on your thigh you wince, but keep quiet. There’s a fear inside you that you’ll trigger something predatory if you make a noise.

But you can’t stop the gasp when his rough lips meet the flesh of your thigh. It’s just a brief kiss, tender and gentle before his tongue slips out to lick up the length of the wound. He hums, the sound and vibration going straight to your core. He leaves behind goosebumps and smears of red.

His touch drifts higher and higher until he pauses. Your stomach is tight in anticipation, breaths shallow. After a long minute, you meet his gaze, flesh burning under his scrutiny. He’s waiting. And you—you’re sick to death of waiting.

God, you are fucked. “Don’t stop now.”

He grins, full of teeth. The sight of them between your legs, stained with blood, with a different kind of hunger sends a terrible sort of thrill through you.

His fingers hook in the waistband of your shorts. You lift your hips to help him ease them down your legs. Kisame groans out loud when you’re exposed to him as if he’s been waiting for this too.

His thumbs part your sticky, slick folds. His warm breath sends a tremor up your spine. The millimeters of space between his mouth and your cunt feels too far and you can’t wait. He meets your core with more force than intended because you buck your hips upward, needy and eager.

He chuckles into your wetness, flashing those sharp teeth so dangerously close to your sensitive flesh. The hand that pushes your hips down is gentle though, fingers kneading the heated skin in soothing circles.

“Easy,” he rasps.

You have to bite back a whine, grounding yourself by scraping your nails against the rotting dock underneath you.

His tongue meets you again, pressed flat through your folds. It drags a shivering moan out of you. Kisame’s answering groan makes you throb. It’s embarrassing how wet you are—how quickly your lower belly coils tight.

He’s gentle at first, his mouth cautious on your puffy slit as he explores you. Like he’s savoring the flavor of you. One of your hands sinks downward, slipping through his wet hair, fingertips pressing against the back of his skull to push him into you.

“Kisame,” you pant, “please.”

He obliges, a thick arm sliding over your hips and tugging you closer to him, lifting your lower body slightly for better access. Your head tilts back, knocking against the rough wood. His tongue cuts through your wetness, sending sparks of electricity through your core as he teased your clit with skillful flicks. Each groan and gasp that leaves your lips makes him work harder.

Your inner muscles ache, clenching tightly around nothing. Kisame takes his time though, following his own sweet rhythm. You almost beg for him to touch you more, but before the words have the chance to form his fingers are inside you. Thick and skilled two of them stretch your hole, curling against your sensitive walls while his mouth suckles your clit.

He drags his tongue back and forth over your sensitive bud while his fingers maintain a steady rhythm, coaxing you ever closer to the edge. His finger finds the spot inside you that sends your hips bucking up in pleasure and an involuntary cry spills from your lips. You can feel Kisame's rumble of approval vibrating against your core as he licks and teases until you finally go limp, still panting heavily from the sheer intensity of your orgasm.

“Not bad,” he all but coos to you, letting your thighs drop.

Words die on your lips as he settles himself fully between your legs and seals his mouth against yours. The taste of yourself is heady and thick. You want to pull him closer, to delve into his mouth like he had done with your sex. But he pulls away before you have the chance.

You make a quiet sound of disappointment when he moves away. It morphs into a startled cry when, without warning, his hips buck forward and the thick head of his cock sinks into you. His fingers dig into the plush meat of your hips, holding you still so he can fuck himself into you. He splits you open, bigger than you expect.

You’re over-filled by the time his hips lay flush against you. Your chest heaving between adjusting to him and fighting the pleasure wracking up your spine.

“Been thinking about how good you’d feel since the first time I saw you,” Kisame says, voice husky and low with a teasing roll of his hips.

You manage a smile, trying to appear unaffected despite the heat coursing through your veins, “Me too.”

His expression is feral in the silvery moonlight, all teeth and pride. Red smears across his face, between your thighs. Kisame, even in his more human form, looks like a monster. It sends your heart fluttering something terrible.

There isn’t time to admire him, though. You buck your hips, a whine on your lips. His length twitches inside you once before he answers, snapping his hips into you. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder and feels like he reaches even deeper inside you. Groans leave both of your mouths.

It’s hard to think straight as he rocks into you, picking up the pace when your hand slips down to rub your clit. He presses into you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His sharp, sharp teeth graze the sensitive skin there and earns him a drawn-out moan, your walls fluttering around him.

“Fuck…not gonna last long,” Kisame pants into your ear. It almost sounds pleading.

“Almost there,” you whine, your core tightening. You’re so close.

His hips stutter a strangled moan slipping out of his mouth. His teeth press a bit harder into your throat and you feel him gush inside you. It sends you over the edge again, insides clamping down around him. It’s quiet aside from the heated panting as you both try to recover and the lapping over the lake against the dock.

A soft-breathed moan wrings itself from your throat when Kisame pulls out. Warmth trickles out of you. But you can’t focus on it because he kisses you again—softer without an urgency. You still chase after him when he pulls away.

He tucks a grin into the corner of his mouth, trying to look serious. “You need to go talk to Itachi.”

“Itachi? Why?” you ask, eyebrows raising.

“He’ll walk you through what to say,” Kisame says hands sliding your shorts back up your legs. As if it’s the most simple thing in the world. His teeth flash in the silver moonlight, unable to help himself. “You look fucked up. The police won’t question you too much.”

It’s so stupid you laugh.

smut warning! amab body parts named and described here!

The screaming continues even after the cicadas fall quiet. The first one you heard ended quickly.  Whoever it was died choking on their own blood. You want to pretend you don’t know who it is.

But you know both the victims and the attacker.

You should leave. Itachi’s office should have a radio or satellite phone— some way to reach help. You don’t like Deidara, but you don’t want him and his friends to die. Your stomach somersaults unpleasantly at the thought.

Getting to your feet has you wheezing by the end of it. You wobble on the first step but can make it to the second step without tipping over. You take a deep breath, you can do this.

On the third, however, your foot goes through the wood. You go down with it, the soft skin of your thigh snagging on the edge of the broken board. It happens so fast you don’t have a chance to even think about screaming. And when you realize what’s happened, you have to bite it back to keep quiet.

Katydids and frogs chirp back and forth while you cry, scooting back to pull your leg out of the hole to look at the damage. You’re bleeding but it’s not gushing blood. It’s hard to tell just how bad it is in the half-moon lighting.

You waste too much time.

A hand closes around your ankle, too close to the edge of the rotting dock. Lacking the claws and webbing between his fingers this time, and strong. He tugs you forward on the dock, the wood scraping against the exposed underside of your thighs.

Kisame doesn’t leave you wondering this time. He lifts himself out of the lake, meeting your body with his own.

Despite being in the water, the blood hasn’t washed off. It’s deep red, staining from his mouth and down his chest. It rolls downward to his naked hips. The sight plucks a cord of fear down your spine.

Just as you’re staring at the blood on him, Kisame is staring at the blood on you. His hand drags upward, over your calf. When he brushes his thumb over the scratch on your thigh you wince, but keep quiet. There’s a fear inside you that you’ll trigger something predatory if you make a noise.

But you can’t stop the gasp when his rough lips meet the flesh of your thigh. It’s just a brief kiss, tender and gentle before his tongue slips out to lick up the length of the wound. He hums, the sound and vibration going straight to your core. He leaves behind goosebumps and smears of red.

His touch drifts higher and higher until he pauses. Your stomach is tight in anticipation, breaths shallow. After a long minute, you meet his gaze, flesh burning under his scrutiny. He’s waiting. And you—you’re sick to death of waiting.

God, you are fucked. “Don’t stop now.”

He grins, full of teeth. The sight of them between your legs, stained with blood, with a different kind of hunger sends a terrible sort of thrill through you.

His fingers hook in the waistband of your shorts. You lift your hips to help him ease them down your legs. Kisame groans out loud when you’re exposed to him as if he’s been waiting for this too.

His thumb ghosts up the underside, until he reaches the head smearing the pearl of pre-cum. His warm breath sends a tremor up your spine. The millimeters of space between his mouth and your dick feels too far away and you can’t wait. He barely has time to wrap his lips around his incredibly sharp teeth before you buck your hips upward, needy and eager.

He chuckles around your length, flashing those sharp teeth so dangerously close to your sensitive flesh. The hand that pushes your hips down is gentle though, fingers kneading the heated skin in soothing circles.

“Easy,” he rasps.

You have to bite back a whine, grounding yourself by scraping your nails against the rotting dock underneath you.

His cheeks hollow out, tongue dragging over you before swirling around the head. It drags a shivering moan out of you. Kisame’s answering groan makes you throb. It’s embarrassing how hard you are—how quickly your lower belly coils tight.

He’s gentle at first, his mouth cautious on weeping cock as he explores you. Like he’s savoring the flavor of you. One of your hands sinks downward, slipping through his wet hair, fingertips pressing against the back of his skull to push him further down on you.

“Kisame,” you pant, “please.”

He obliges, a thick arm sliding over your hips and tugging you closer to him, lifting your lower body slightly for better access. Your head tilts back, knocking against the rough wood. His head bobs wetly over your length, sending sparks of electricity through you. Each groan and gasp that leaves your lips makes him work harder.

Your balls tighten, your hole clenching tightly around nothing. Kisame takes his time though, following his own sweet rhythm. You almost beg for him to touch you more, but before the words have the chance to form his fingers are inside you. Thick and skilled two of them stretch your hole, curling against your sensitive walls while his mouth sucks you in further, your tip touching the back of his throat.

He pulls back, inhaling softly and swiping his tongue over the slit of your cock head, while his fingers maintain a steady rhythm, coaxing you ever closer to the edge. His finger finds the spot inside you that sends your hips bucking up in pleasure and an involuntary cry spills from your lips. You can feel Kisame's rumble of approval vibrating around your length as he licks and teases, swallowing your cum until you finally go limp, still panting heavily from the sheer intensity of your orgasm.

“Not bad,” he all but coos to you, letting your thighs drop.

Words die on your lips as he settles himself fully between your legs and seals his mouth against yours. The taste of yourself is heady and thick. You want to pull him closer, to delve into his mouth like he had done with your sex. But he pulls away before you have the chance.

You make a quiet sound of disappointment when he moves away. It morphs into a startled cry when, without warning, his hips buck forward and the thick head of his cock sinks into you. His fingers dig into the plush meat of your hips, holding you still so he can fuck himself into you. He splits you open, bigger than you expect.

You’re over-filled by the time his hips lay flush against you. Your chest heaving between adjusting to him and fighting the pleasure wracking up your spine.

“Been thinking about how good you’d feel since the first time I saw you,” Kisame says, voice husky and low with a teasing roll of his hips.

You manage a smile, trying to appear unaffected despite the heat coursing through your veins, “Me too.”

His expression is feral in the silvery moonlight, all teeth and pride. Red smears across his face, between your thighs. Kisame, even in his more human form, looks like a monster. It sends your heart fluttering something terrible.

There isn’t time to admire him, though. You buck your hips, a whine on your lips. His length twitches inside you once before he answers, snapping his hips into you. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder and feels like he reaches even deeper inside you. Groans leave both of your mouths.

It’s hard to think straight as he rocks into you, picking up the pace when your hand slips down to jerk your dick, already half-hard again. He presses into you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His sharp, sharp teeth graze the sensitive skin there and earns him a drawn-out moan, your walls fluttering around him.

“Fuck…not gonna last long,” Kisame pants into your ear. It almost sounds pleading.

“Almost there,” you whine, your walls tightening. You’re so close.

His hips stutter a strangled moan slipping out of his mouth. His teeth press a bit harder into your throat, and you feel him gush inside you. It sends you over the edge again, insides clamping down around him. Your cock throbs again, cum coating your fingers. It’s quiet aside from the heated panting as you both try to recover and the lapping over the lake against the dock.

A soft-breathed moan wrings itself from your throat when Kisame pulls out. Warmth trickles out of you. But you can’t focus on it because he kisses you again—softer without an urgency. You still chase after him when he pulls away.

He tucks a grin into the corner of his mouth, trying to look serious. “You need to go talk to Itachi.”

“Itachi? Why?” you ask, eyebrows raising.

“He’ll walk you through what to say,” Kisame says hands sliding your shorts back up your legs. As if it’s the most simple thing in the world. His teeth flash in the silver moonlight, unable to help himself. “You look fucked up. The police won’t question you too much.”

It’s so stupid you laugh.

#myfiction #kisame hosigaki x reader #reader-insert #x reader #naruto #naruto fanfic #daryascabin #the cabin fic event #sobs the header art and dividers are mine too pls ignore them #nsft

[dolliestfairy]

Tw : Noncon/Dubcon, Predator x Prey kink, fear kink, Manhandle (?) & Outdoor sex. lmk if i miss anything. Chubby Reader Fics With No Skintone Of Reader Mentioned.

Mdni!

Currently thinking abt men who have a predator x prey kink. Men who love to see your trembling expression when he act like some merciless predator. men who loves to play hide and seek with you. despite his own self being a grown man, he cant help but get even more turned on when he sees your scared expression, while his hand pinch your chubby cheeks, only to make you more trembling in fear.

"look at you.. all scared and stuff... you're only making me more excited y'know?"

he's a man who is soo thrilled when he was chasing you. catching you around like a crazy dude, its only a matter of time before his hand get onto your clothes and easily ripped them off, and later on, you'll be getting pinned down beneath him while your pussy service his cock, laughing as a respond from him to your cries, slapping your fat belly and grabbing them with a very harsh grip. and.. ngl you both are going to look like some wild animals fucking each other in the woods, but dont worry though. he's a mass fucking possesive dude. theres no fucking way he'll let some random stranger look at your body. your body is all his and his only for see and touch. and if you forget it? he'll gladly reminds you.

The Men That i'm talking about Are;

GETO SUGURU, OBITO, Itoshi Brothers, MIYA ATSUMU, KUROO TETSURO, Tsukishima Kei, HOSHIGAKI KISAME, ALEC, Sakamaki Brothers, MUKAMI BROTHERS, Lev Haiba, TENDOU, MADARA, KIBA, ITTO, Childe, Scaramouche, POSEIDON, SEBASTIAN, Malleus, HADES, SHIVA, OVERHAUL, SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY, Horangi, Alejandro, HIDAN, Deidara, Sasori, KAKUZU, OROCHIMARU, UCHIHA SASUKE, SUKUNA RYOMEN & Bachira.

DID I FORGET ANYONE? INSERT UR FAV!

#chubby reader #plus size reader #tw.dubcon #tw.noncon #naruto smut #naruto x reader #obito x reader #orochimaru x reader #kuroo x reader #miya atsumu x reader #rin itoshi x reader #sae itoshi x reader #blue lock x chubby reader #diabolik lovers x reader #kisame x reader #overhaul x reader #ghost x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #mahito x reader #kakuzu x reader #akatsuki x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #itto x reader #itto smut #tsukishima x reader #kisame is my husband #hidan x reader #obito smut #haikyuu x reader

[therantingfangirl]

There's no way to come up with a nickname based on my username...trust me, we've tried. Just call me Kenna!

Requests are opening soon! I will write NSFW and SFW. I live and breathe angst, and I absolutely love fluff when I'm in the right mood for it. When my requests open, I will write a new posts with rules and more information regarding what I will be writing.

AO3 | Masterlist | Rules

My OC:

Kurono Uzumaki Daiki Kazama Mamorou Kazama

Kinktober 2021 (I hate to admit that I'm still working on these)

Fandoms I write for:

Naruto Fruits Basket Tokyo Revengers Hunter x Hunter

Anime I love, in no particular order:

Naruto, Hunter x Hunter, Tokyo Revengers, Assassination Classroom, Fruits Basket, Bleach, Attack on Titan, My Hero Academia, Demon Slayer, Jujutsu Kaisen, Violet Evergarden

Other nerdy things I love:

Fantasy books, greek mythology (especially Medusa, Persephone, and Hades), Iron Man, Hawkeye, Batman, Jason Todd, Harley Quinn, Lord of the Rings, Game of Thrones

Not-so-nerdy-things I love:

Dogs, rock music, punk music, the color black, tattoos, piercings, colored hair, baking, cooking, fluffy blankets, and travelling

My favorite characters that I would love to write for:

Naruto—Kankuro, Itachi, Deidara, Kisame, Konan, Obito, Hidan, Kakuzu, Sasori, Gaara, Temari, Genma, Kiba, Kakashi, Anko, Ino, Madara, Shikamaru, Shino (@justmyownreality is completely to blame for that one), and Suigetsu Fruits Basket—Hatsuharu, Kyo, Yuki, Shigure, and Hatori Tokyo Revengers—Draken, Mitsuya, Mikey, Baji, Kazutora, and Chifuyu Hunter x Hunter—Chrollo, Illumi, and Hisoka

Characters I won't write for:

Naruto—Sasuke, Danzo, Hanzo, Karin, and Hiruzen Fruits Basket—Kisa and Hiro Hunter x Hunter—I will write for Gon and Killua, but NOT if it's smut

Things I won't write about:

incest, pedophilia, rape, sexual assault of any kind, defecation, and piss

Please, be aware of the potential for spoilers for anything that I fangirl over. I will tag spoilers, but I cannot guarantee that you will not see any in a fic that I post!

I am a 25-year-old, bisexual, cis white woman. I try my best at writing things for a diverse audience, but I may not be able to fully expound upon certain experiences. Feel free to ask for authors that may be able to fit what you're looking for better, and I will do my best to find you one! My reader-inserts are female, but I do not include ANY descriptions. I can write gender neutral, if it is requested. I'd prefer not to write the reader as male, since that is not what I am familiar with.

Minors and ageless blogs, do not interact with any NSFW posts. I do not solely post NSFW so this space isn't necessary unwelcome, but it is present and you should proceed with caution.

This post is subject to change as time passes.

I do not give permission to anyone to copy any of my information or writing for themselves.

I love to rant and talk about the things I love, so feel free to talk to me about them, either anon or not!

Beautiful avatar by my ride or die, love of my life, and would be my bride if she hadn’t found herself a husband: @mortyvongola2-0

#fanfiction writer #reader insert #naruto oc #naruto fanfiction #fruits basket fanfiction #tokyo revengers fanfiction #hunter x hunter fanfiction #the ranting fangirl writes #the ranting fangirl #the ranting fangirl navigation #about me

[prettynice8]

could i request kisame x transmasc reader? thanks!

OMG first request thank you, also trans representation, we love that. Sorry if I get it wrong this isn't usually what I read.

Warnings: smut, NSFW, Kisame has 2 dicks, he puts both dicks inside, doggy style, anal fingering, anal sex, pretty much it, Trans man reader

Word count: 771

Notes: sorry if this is utter shit it's my first one, please don't be to mean unless I deserve it, then give me hell.

"Y/n I'm home!" Kisame yells as he opens the door to the small apartment you own with him. He walks through the hall and sees you in the kitchen cleaning the dishes. He walks up to again and screams "Y/n, I'm home" he sees you swaying from side to side, he realizes you're listening to music, probably (insert favorite song).

You feel strong arms gripping you from behind. Immediately you realize it was your boyfriend Kisame. You take the earbuds out and set them on the counter. Kisame turns you around, so you're face to face with his arms around your hips. "I've missed you" he admits. You laugh "it has only been half a day." "Yeah but being in the Akatsuki can be such a bitch sometimes." You wrapped your arms around his neck and gently kiss him. You're stunned as you feel his arms lift you up bridal style and carries you to the bedroom all the while still holding the kiss with you.

As he carries you both to the bedroom, he begins to attack your neck with all kinds of love bites and kisses. He stops right in the hallway to completely focus on your neck. He starts at your throat but then eases down to your collarbone. You moan delight as he ravages your neck. "God, I could just eat you up." he says between kisses. You can only manage to moan as he finally begins to walk towards the bedroom. Not that you don't love when he kisses you but like come on let's get to him blowing your back out.

Near right after he enters your shared bedroom, he immediately plops you onto the bed. He stands there for a little while, just soaking up all of your beauty. Finally, Kisame goes on top of you with his knee between your legs and arms caging you in. "Can't believe these are still off." he refers to your clothes; and just like that he rips your shirt and shorts to shreds. "Sorry, but I just can't control myself." "Dear God just shove those shark dicks in me already." you say, exasperated. "Your wish is my command love." he says as he rips your boxers off. "I know you want you are needy right now, but I don't want to literally rip you out." you just groan in response; all the sudden you feel Kisame flip you over and shove 2 thick fingers into your ass. "Oh my Kisame, a warning would have been nice" you say while also moaning like fucking crazy. The fingers inch their way into your ass, and right when he puts them all the way in, he pumps them impossibly fast. You moan as loud as one person can as his fingers impale you from behind. Sadly, he pulls them out, but as they say, one door closes another one opens, except in this case one door opens and 2 much bigger doors open.

The thing you've all been waiting for. He takes his shirt and pants off. Next, he pulls out his two luscious, beautiful, humongous, amazing, fantastic, spermerific cocks. You begin to crawl up to him and put the top one in your mouth, "Not this time Y/N, I need to be inside you now." "Fine by me." He gets behind you as you set yourself up on your hands and legs and whispers, "If I hurt you to badly then-" "I know, I know, say Cinnamon" You state. He grips your hips and, to your surprise, PUTS BOTH OF HIS COCKS INSIDE YOU. You scream out in pain and pleasure as he goes in inch by inch. "Do you want me to pull out?" he questions, his voice a little shaky. "Don't you dare!" You answer. It was after you say that is when he bottoms out. He leans in, his chest on your back and states "I'm going to start to move now, okay." "Just fuckin do it already!" you moan out.

He Finally starts to plunge his dicks into you slowly. "Please go faster~" "As you wish." he calmly states before plunging at a sloppy and quick rhythm. He fucks you as quick as he can. He begins to find a steady pace. He somehow rams into even more at an even quicker pace. Your scream and moan your heart out.

Eventually, you both feel your heavenly releases "Every time we fuck is better that the last." "For real" you both share a long breathless laugh. Kisame then wraps his strong arms around you and pulls you closer to him.

AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER

sorry for how long this took to finish, I absolutely hated writing on my phone so I literally got a lap top just to type fan fiction. You're fucking welcome Charles

#kisame smut #kisame x reader smut #smut #x reader smut #x reader #reader #fluff ig

[animedaddymilkers]

Kisame for the ask game please hehe 🦈

tags: soft fish boy uwu

kisame's love language: words of affirmation!

It's constant affirmation and positivity from kisame

Nothing too outlandish or ridiculous, but he's CEO of supporting you and letting you know how he's feeling

"You look great today!" He says, every day

"Oh you did the dishes?! That's amazing!" he's so thankful bc Kami, he didn't want to do them

"You deserve a nap and a bath, darling, you're working so hard."

He's chock full of inspirational quotes and uplifting messages

If he's thinking about you he's going to vocalize it

"Hope you have a good day!"

"I'm so proud of you."

#naruto #naruto x reader #x reader #reader insert #kisame x you #kisame x reader #kisame hoshigaki #fluff #🎮{ask game}🎮 #love langauges #sleepy-zeepy

[historicfailure]

Before the date with Kisame, you're incredibly nervous. When the two of you are alone though, you're being pushed to your limits, until all the insecurity breaks free. 

~ X ~

Hey there ^^ Welcome to the next chapter of "Work under Water". I'm really happy with the progress so far, and I really hope I can keep up the posting schedule for the last two chapters as well ^^ Thank you all so much for the support, I love to see all you guys seeing yourself in this fic. It was supposed to be an incredibly self-indulgent fic, but it's wonderful the topics also resonate with so many of you.

Oh man, way too much talk. Onto the story ^^ Have fun!

~ X ~

Time was a strange thing. Even though you wished that the days would stretch into eternity, so you could avoid thinking about the upcoming meeting, they just flew by like the scattering of carefree sparrows on the sidewalk. There was barely time to worry, and like that, you found yourself by the lake on Wednesday, shortly before 2pm. 

You deeply breathed in, letting the gust of air settle in your lungs, before pushing the breath out again. It only did little to calm your frayed nerves. 

I’m looking ridiculous. 

I shouldn’t have spent so much money on this outfit.

Why did Maimi convince me to even buy it in the first place? 

On top of buying a new bikini, Maimi also forced you into all kinds of clothing stores. Spending hours and hours of underneath the terrible lighting and inside those stupid small changing cabins, of forcing yourself to not look at the size tables of the clothes and ignoring the pitiful stares of the thin women who worked at the stores and having had to put away all the clothes which didn’t fit. All of that, and even though you liked the new ensemble, it didn’t help that it was so unlike your usual style. 

Your heart fluttered inside your chest. Again, your eyes swept across the packed beach with all the playing children, the relaxing families, the happy people who were just enjoying the summer sun and warmth to the fullest. None of them seemed nervous about anything. 

But none of them had a date there, right?

You reached into the bag hanging by your side. One glance at the phone and you breathed out. A few more minutes until Kisame’s shift ended.

There’s still time to run away. So he doesn’t have to see you like this.

Poor guy. His eyes will bleed.

Nobody wants a cow like me. With a sad smile, you stroked over the fabric of your new clothes. Kisame just wants to be nice. Maimi isn’t always right. She just wants me to feel good about myself. There’s nothing—!

“Hey there. Sorry, did you wait long?” 

You swiveled around, heat already rising onto your face at his voice so unexpectedly close to you. “N-no! I didn’t, just a few minutes…”

An easy smile flashed over his face. “Great! I will be with you in a second, just need to get out of my uniform. Otherwise, the people won’t leave me alone all day. Will you wait for me?”

Indeed, Kisame was still wearing his white tank-top with the red cross boldly printed upon his wide chest, as well as the red swimming shorts. There was a thin sheen of sweat covering his entire body, but it especially accentuated his strong arms. Only barely able to form just a single coherent thought, you nodded weakly.

“Nice. Okay, I’ll be back in a second.” His smile didn’t waver as he turned again away to half-jog over to the hut for the lifeguards. He made it look so effortless, when you knew that running on earth and sand was anything but. 

Besides, from behind, you could ogle him at least a little bit before he would turn you down. Something nice to remember when you would tell Kaya about the one time the hot local lifeguard had a pity date with you. 

Your fingers clawed into the strap of your bag a bit harder. Right. Just get through the first few hours, until Kisame had enough, and then you were done with it. A deep breath in, and you turned around to look towards the lifeguard hut. Until then, you could try and enjoy the pseudo-date as much as you could. 

Suddenly, one of the windows opened. It took a few seconds to recognize Ringo, as she had lost her tightly bound hair, but she instantly recognized you. She waved, you waved back, then the woman turned over her shoulder to say something. Probably teasing Kisame somehow. Another wave from Ringo, and the window was shut with way more force than necessary.

It took a few more minutes for Kisame to emerge from the hut. A few more minutes in which you could worry and fret and overthink, but when he walked up, all of that seemed to disappear. Washed away by the sight of him.

A crisp, white, short-sleeved button-up shirt spanned across his wide chest. A few buttons were left undone, so you could catch glimpses of his skin and sometimes even his collarbones when he shifted around. His legs were also only half-covered by a simple pair of royal blue swimming shorts, showing off his muscular legs as well as another tattoo of a set of shark-teeth on his calf. Kisame raised one of his arms, scratching the back of his head with a little cocky grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“Well? Am I well-dressed enough to impress?”

Like he even had to ask that. He had to know…

“Yeah.” You felt how the heat creeped up your neck and cheeks, but tried so, so hard to not flail and stutter around. “You are definitely well-dressed.”

“Same to you,” his small grin turned bright, all happy and confident, “You look stunning.”

That was it. Your entire face must’ve turned into a tomato at this point. Unable to meet his eyes, you lowered your head, staring at your feet as you mumbled a quick “Thank you.”

Fuck. Like you could say anything to that. Like you could look him all cool and proper in the eyes, thank him properly and without sounding like you had wool in your mouth, as well as act like nothing ever happened? Even though you knew it was probably a gentle lie to make you feel better about yourself, you couldn’t help but… feel the tiniest bit happy about the compliment. 

That’s it. This one will definitely go into the collection of rare feel-good-moments I will always replay when I’m feeling seriously down. 

Like when my classmate told me I had beautiful eyes. 

When was that? Third or fourth grade?

Before you could get lost in your thoughts, Kisame spoke up again. He pointed towards the parking spots, overrun by cars, bikes and all kinds of vehicles. “If you don’t mind, I know about a peaceful spot at the lake. It’s only a five minutes drive from here. Of course, if you don’t want to get into a car with a stranger and drive to a secondary location, I totally understand that.”

“I mean,” it was hard to speak up, but you did anyway, “I think I know one of your numerous occupations as a lifeguard for sure. Then, Ringo also saw me leave with you, and my sister also knows that I’m here with you. I hope that is enough to not kill me on the spot, so I’m willing to take that risk.”

Kisame whistled. “Lots of preparations. Alright then, I have to restrain myself and not devour you on the spot.”

“A cannibal? At least it will be an original murder-case.” 

“Well, I’m not going to eat you up… on the first date, that is.”

“Aah.” You hummed under your breath as your feet hit the asphalt of the parking slot. “A cannibal with some honor. Well, who am I to deny that invitation?”

His boisterous laughter made you feel all warm and tingly all over. “Now I think I know where Kaya got his humor from.”

“Someone had to teach him how to make people laugh, right?”

Light bantering was easy enough. You were good at that, at least, and secure enough to let go of some of your defenses. Right. Maybe you could enjoy this “date” as much as you could. After all, when would you again have such fit, attractive company? Why not just let go of your inhibitions for once and enjoy life?

It was harder said than done, but you could try. 

“Alright.” Kisame stopped beside a big, fire-red truck. “That’s my car here. I know, I know,” he answered your badly concealed shock, “but I need it for hauling around the boat for the lifeguards. Plus, a small car won’t fit me, my long legs and my big attitude.”

“I noticed.” Another look at the monstrosity of a car, then you nodded. “Okay, let’s go to that mysterious secondary location. I’m ready to get murdered and eaten up.”

His face brightened in an instant. “Nice. Hop in!”

After carefully storing your belongings onto the backseat, Kisame gave you a helping hand in trying to climb into the high passenger seat. His fingers closed around yours like a promise and you were proud of yourself for not blushing like a tomato yet again. Still, Kisame’s silent chuckle as you let go of his hand all too early was enough proof for you to know that he knew what kind of effect he had on your poor mind. 

Just a few precious seconds in which you could calm yourself down, then he easily slid onto the driver's seat. “Well then,” he had the guts to wink full of cheeky confidence, “time for some fun, eh?”

“I’m definitely up for it.” And this time, you even meant it a little bit.

To hell with your insecurities. To hell with your internalized shame. To hell with all of that and more. You wanted to have some fun, and if you forgot about all of that, then you could make taking away a nice memory, which would warm you in nights you were unsure if someone would actually be able to find you attractive, a reality. 

The truck roared to life. With it, the radio also turned on, instantly blaring way too loudly inside the car. So much so, everything seemed to vibrate.

“Oh fuck.” Kisame twitched forward. His hand closed around the little knob controlling the audio level, instantly turning it down to zero. “Sorry. Had a little,” he fiddled with the knob, fingertips barely edging at the metal, “jam session this morning.”

“We all need that from time to time. What was that music?”

“Some dance remixes of the 90s and ‘00s. What can I say, I grew up with those songs. And they are great for workouts.”

“I can only imagine.” A hint of bitterness swung in your voice, but you quickly pushed away every thought of your own fat flabbing around while doing sports. “Do you like anything else? I mean, in music. Or any form of media you like.”

The small smile splayed across his face betrayed nothing of his thoughts. “Oh, already jumping to the typical date-questions, huh?”

“Is that bad?”

“Not necessarily, no. So… I’m into the mentioned ‘90s and ‘00s electronic music, but I also like some songs on the radio. I don’t really have time to watch movies or series really diligently, but sometimes, I like to indulge in some of the more popular series. Whatever is the hype at the moment, to be honest.”

“So, basically everything on Netflix?”

“Almost everything on Netflix,” Kisame chuckled, “and really, only when I have the time. Mostly, I’m out at the lake, swimming, educating myself on the latest discoveries when it comes to water rescue, boot mechanics. There’s no time in between, really.”

“So, pretty much married to your job?”

“Yeah.” He paused for a moment. “Yeah, that actually tracks. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t make time for someone special, of course. If I had a girlfriend, I would definitely cut back on some of my habits.” He threw a small glance into your direction, before concentrating on the road again. “I believe that it’s important to spend quality time with my partner.”

“That sounds great.” And you meant it, even though you knew that the “quality time” would never be spent with you. “And like you really want to dedicate yourself to the person you love. That’s a wonderful quality.”

Oddly enough, Kisame didn’t answer. One glance at him and you could spot a smug grin on his face. Though, the smile wavered, his hands on the steering wheel tightened, only to switch positions and turn the entire car left. Right into a small back road, not paved and hidden away between bushes and low-hanging branches. 

“Hang on,” Kisame lowered the speed of the truck, and still, every bump of the road shook you in your seat, “the road is a bit bumpy.”

“Really? I didn’t notice.” But you laughed as you said the sharp words, turning them into good-natured banter. “The road is basically as smooth as butter.”

“Damn, you’re mean today.” A flash of his teeth, then he concentrated on the bumpy road again. “I like it. There’s some bite to you, huh?”

“Of course.” Another big jump of the entire truck made you choke your next words. “Ah. Fuck.”

“Sorry. We’re nearly there, so hold on for a second.” Kisame shifted the stick to change gears, drove a few meters forward, only to come to a complete halt. “And the second is over. The last bit of the way, we have to walk.”

Quickly, you unbuckled your seatbelt and opened the door before Kisame could even pull the key out of the ignition. The silence of the forest was only disturbed by the faraway screams of delight as children jumped into the cool water, as well as the faint glimmer of blue water glimmering through the trees. 

“My my,” the back of the truck popped open, making you turn around to Kisame, who rummaged through the trunk, “already excited about our little swim? But I definitely understand that.”

“Didn’t you get to jump after overly eager kids and fainting aunts today?”

“More than enough, to be honest.” Kisame laughed while hauling a small cooling bag and a huge backpack out of the trunk. Shouldering both, he managed to close the trunk and locked the car. “But there’s nothing more satisfying than going for a leisurely swim after a day of hard work rescuing people. Especially on a hot day like this, and with company like this.”

You had no idea what to make of his tone when he finished his sentence. There was something lying underneath and you didn’t dare to listen all too closely. Just a small smile flashed over your face, then you turned towards the lake again. No false hopes, no make-believe. Just enjoying the present, nothing else. 

Kisame seemed to sense the shift of atmosphere, but didn’t comment on it. Instead, he shrugged his backpack even more onto his shoulder before brushing past you. The man didn’t show one bit of the weight hanging from his shoulders. For a long moment, you were allowed to appreciate the way his back muscles played beneath the flimsy white fabric of his shirt, only to be caught red-handed. 

He had quickly turned his head, a predator checking out their prey with small, handsome, dark eyes. “You coming?”

“Yeah.” With heat rising into your face, you shook your head. “Sorry.”

“For what?” Kisame took a big step into the forest and you tried to quickly follow him on the same beaten-down path towards the lake. “For looking at me like I’m the last drink before you have to enter a desert? Like I’m a good, raw steak, and you’re a dog? Like I’m—”

“Stop! Oh god, stop. I get it.” Laughter bubbled up in your lungs, easily pearling over your lips. Kisame’s chuckle mixed into your own and you couldn’t help but notice that both of your laughs intermingled, intertwined, and somehow mixed into something… pleasant. 

Lots of dangerous thoughts to your personal inner peace swirled through your head as you followed Kisame onto the overgrown, nearly invisible path. The air was hot and humid, with the promise of some rain in the night, certainly not making the waterfall of sweat pouring down your back feel any better. 

Your eyes snaked over Kisame’s wide back. His white button-down shirt was already see-through in some places, with his muscles rippling right beneath the thin fabric as temptation for your thirsty mind. Not that you hadn’t seen the naked skin already, but with the newly added layer of fabric, looking at Kisame was again worth every moment.

And you looked. You stared, appreciated, and maybe even salivated the tiniest bit. Your focus was entirely on him, so much so, you didn’t watch the path as much as you should.

You merely felt a small tug at your toes. A small tug, then your entire world jerked and stumbled forward. In a matter of split seconds, Kisame’s back rapidly crashed towards you. Or you were tumbling towards his back. It didn’t matter either way.

But before you made contact, Kisame easily turned around and caught you with his free arm. Really, like he had eyes in the back of his head. Safe and secure like a baby, you hung over his arm, still a bit flabbergasted at what just happened, while another part of you swooned at his natural ease and grace. 

He really just… caught me. Right in the air. 

He’s still holding me up! Oh god, he’s still holding me up like it’s nothing!

I really should…

“Oh god, I’m so, so sorry!” You scrambled onto your own two feet, all the while not daring to look into his eyes. The ghost of his arm tingled against your skin, right across the area of your stomach he had to touch to save you from yourself. “I didn’t mean to, I’m just… Sometimes, I just…”

“Hey, no worries there.” His teeth flashed with his little, cheeky grin. “I’m always happy to be of service.”

“Asking you to carry me again would be a bit too much, right?”

The words slipped out faster than you could even think about them. One second, they just emerged from the depths of your consciousness, the next, they already rolled off your tongue and echoed between the silence of trees. Immediately, you wished you could take them back, but no such luck—or mercy. 

Kisame heard them loud and clear. His little grin instantly turned brighter and bigger, revealing more of his teeth and more of his delight. “So, you liked being carried around, hm?”

No way to back down, so the only thing you could do was charge ahead. So, you crossed your arms over your chest, answering his cheeky grin with a defiantly joking glare. “It’s for convenience. How else would I reach that secret spot of yours without falling on my nose?”

“You could always fall on me… or for me.” He shrugged, still grinning like he truly enjoyed the conversation. “I’m not picky.” His eyebrows waggled up and down, cheeky suggestion and perhaps, even a bit of a joke to himself, too. “But I have a bit of a preference, of course.”

“Everybody does.” 

This time, you couldn’t hide the hint of bitterness in your voice. You had tried, but everyone had their limit, right? And this one was yours. Sooner than you wanted or anticipated, but you knew that you would reach it today. How could you not? With this so-called date, or more like, thinly veiled joke on your cost, it had just been a matter of time. 

Kisame’s grin withered away, and suddenly, you had trouble breathing. Fuck. That was your doing, your tone, your bitter words poisoning the easy atmosphere between the two of you. Quickly, you forced a fake smile onto your face while avoiding his inquiring eyes. “Sorry. That was… Let’s just get to your secret spot, alright?”

“(Y/N)...” He reached out, but you stepped aside. 

“No. It’s… it’s fine. Everything is fine. Let’s just forget about this.”

“Okay. If that is what you want.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, before pushing past Kisame. “It’s just straight ahead, right?”

You didn’t wait for an answer. You couldn’t. Not with the sinking feeling deep down in the pit of your stomach. It made you feel sick, with bile rising in your throat and the first tears burning in the corners of your eyes. 

I hate this. I hate feeling like this.

Like I’m just the big, dumb cow who gets played.

I wanted to enjoy this. So why can’t Kisame just stop mocking me with his flirting? 

His sweet words and easy smiles were wasted on you after all. 

You barely heard Kisame follow you through the loud heartbeat thundering in your ears. A small jitter still wandered through your body, mostly settling in your hands and fingers, but you gripped the handle of your bags tighter. It helped. Marginally.

Still fighting the faint trembling in your hands, you didn’t notice how the surrounding forest opened up. Only when the first rays of unfiltered sunlight hit your eyes and you were blinded for a short second, you awoke from your miserable self-pity. 

The first thing you saw was water. Water and the smallest of waves, making the surface glitter in the high afternoon sun, splashed upon a small strip of land. Just a hint of hard sand and dirt, only to directly lead into the water. 

Behind you, Kisame grunted as he also stepped out of the cool shadows of the trees. “Nice. Looks like nobody has been here since last time. It’s still pretty clean.”

“That’s always a relief, yeah.” With a low sigh, you let your bags drop onto the grassy ground, just a few meters away from the sand and the tempting lake. “Is that also a problem at the beach over there?” You jerked your head into the direction of the beach, which you could see from your position, a long strip of beige with some bright-red buoys bobbing up and down in the water.

Kisame chuckled as he dropped his own bags onto the grass. “You have no idea. Every few hours, we have to patrol around the beach and pick up trash. Some people have no thoughts left in their self-absorbed brains to think about the ones visiting the lake after them.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “it’s disgusting. Nobody wants to sit between empty soda cans.”

“Or used condom wrappers.” Again, Kisame’s eyebrows waggled up and down. “You have no idea how horny people get at this lake.”

“No way.” You cringed at the thought. “No… Please, now you put pictures in my head.”

“One time, I was on trash-duty and found an entire string of them. And not only normal ones, no.” He seemed to delight in the chance to gross you out, just the tiniest bit. As he kneeled down and opened one of his bags, he looked up at you, with an absolutely adorable dimple showing in his left cheek. Some strands fell into his sweaty forehead, before he wiped them away with the back of his hand. “Some were of the… kinky kind.”

“Kinky kind? How old are you? Five?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t want to tell you about all the strawberry-lubricant, the nobs and edges. Had the feeling you would keel over… or something.” Mischief blinked in Kisame’s eyes. “Didn’t want to scare you off.”

You snorted. “Before you can scare me off, you have to try harder.”

“Really?” But just when you thought the banter would continue, just when the man opened his mouth again to fire the next playful words back, a thought flashed through his mind. You almost saw the train of thought race behind his forehead, only for his jaw to tense up and his mouth shut close again.

Was that it? Your stomach curled up as you busied yourself with unpacking the bags you dropped onto the ground. Was that the moment? The moment in which Kisame would call the date off? Or at least, drop the pretense of taking you out because he was interested romantically?

But nothing of that sort happened. Out of the corner of your eyes, you watched the man, who did the same thing as you: unpacking the bags and bringing forth more and more items which were all meant to make the leisurely time spent at the lake as comfortable as possible: a large blanket, a small umbrella to add some shadow for the two of you to relax under, a towel, sunscreen, a small bluetooth-speaker and a sun-powered power-bank…

“You’re fully decked out, I see.” 

He shrugged. “Lots of experience.” He glanced upwards, at your own pile of a few bottles of water and the container with a small cake. “And your favorite cake, I take it?”

“Of course. Someone wanted to taste it, or so I heard,” you added after a long, long second of silence.

Kisame nodded weakly. “And I can’t wait for that. But only after a nice swim, without having to work. What do you say, hm? Care to join me?”

Honestly, you didn’t even think it would get this far. That much had been clear. Now, you were confronted with Kisame’s unwavering willingness to see you swim. 

You swallowed thickly. Fuck. This was it. Your time was up. There wasn’t really a chance to deny him anymore without having to explain yourself. And that was totally out of the question. Way too embarrassing to admit out loud that you felt so insecure about yourself. So, you had no other choice but to nod while your mind went haywire with all the possibilities.

He could laugh.

He could make a comment.

He could say nothing, just look at me with disgust.

I don’t know which one would be the worst, to be honest.

But going for a swim would be so nice. One look at the tempting blue water, and you sighed inwardly. The walk over here together with the humid weather really took its toll on you. Sweat made your clothes stick in the most uncomfortable places, to the point you wanted nothing else but to get rid of the fabric and finally cool down a bit. 

But again: taking off your clothes around Kisame? Carefully, you tried to sneak a little peek at him. Maybe he wasn’t looking. Then you could—!

No such luck. His eyes were fully on you. He even noticed the little sneak-peek, grinning as your eyes met and your head snapped back around to stare intently at the water. 

“Well,” he said behind you, spread out over the big blanket, “go on. The water is nice and cool, that much I can tell you.”

“I believe that in an instant.”

“Then why are you hesitating?”

“I need…” You searched for the right word, but nothing came to mind. “I…”

“Maybe,” Kisame interrupted, his low voice unusually gentle, “I will test the waters for you, hm? Would that make it better?”

Infinitely so. A chance to undress without his full attention on you was exactly what you needed. So, you nodded, while the tips of your fingers were still digging into the flesh of your own palm. 

Kisame didn’t look annoyed or frustrated, just pushed himself off the ground. “Alright. But promise me one thing.”

“What?” you asked after several seconds of heavy silence. “What should I promise you?”

His smile was infectious. “That you will definitely join me in the water.” With that, he reached for the buttons of his shirt and started to unbutton the fabric. One after another, and with each and every button, the white fabric fell more and more open. Your eyes were stuck to the revealed skin, the rippling muscles and the casual way of teasing you with each movement. Was this intentional? You had no idea.

No matter what, Kisame continued to undress with the casualness of someone who was used to the process. As he stripped the shirt off his shoulders, he made the effort to fold the white, sweaty fabric properly, before placing it with a gentle pat onto the blanket. Then, not without a little, cheeky wink, he let the muscles of his chest twitch. Right there, right in front of your eyes and without any shame. 

“Like what you see?” he asked, still without any shame. Again, as it was kind of his signature-pose, he propped his hands into the sharp “V” of his hips. “For more though, you have to join me in the water. Don’t leave me hanging.” 

And before you knew it, the man was gone. Just a big splash as well as boyish, excited laughter which echoed in the air, as Kisame immediately jumped into the water without any regrets. 

You turned fully towards the water. Your eyes followed Kisame, how he dived and swam and moved through the lake like he was born to do so. Meanwhile, your mind still struggled to command your body. Only slowly, your fingers curled around the edges of your clothing, ever so slowly pulling at the fabric. Every fiber of your being protested, howled, screamed at you to not do it, to just grab your stuff and run far, far away and never return to the lake. 

Calm down, you chastisted yourself, calm down for once, alright? 

No need to be so melodramatic. 

Yeah, just moving away would be sufficient.

Nevertheless, your body continued. Your hands moved, revealing more and more of your body until the dreaded moment came. The moment when your clothes dropped to the ground and you were left standing in your bathing suit. It was definitely freeing, but the anxiety about Kisame possibly seeing you was too much to bear to revel in the loss of your sweaty, sticky clothing. You hurried towards the water, not caring that you nearly stumbled again or that you stubbed your toe against some pesky stone in your way. 

The water was lukewarm as you placed your first foot in the shallow waters. The first few steps were easily done, only for you to realize that the water was only warm at the surface. The shore quickly fell off, thankfully, leading your entire body underneath the water and covering every unflattering part of you quickly. After a few more steps, you lost the ground beneath your feet and you started to swim. Calm, collected motions, cutting through the water easily. Just swim. Your muscles moved and your mind drifted off. 

I once loved swimming.

Yeah. Loved.

Until the popular girls at school made fun of me for being fat. Good old school-bullies.

You shoved the painful memories of the sneering, thin girls aside. The more pressing issue was: where was Kisame? Because you sure as hell didn’t spot him anywhere near you or anywhere you looked while paddling away with both of your arms and legs. But he was close, had to be. Even though you couldn’t see him anywhere near you. It was like a distinctive presence in the water, looming beneath the surface. You hadn’t seen him dive beneath the water, but that was the only possibility left. Also, you swam in his direction, so—!

“There you are.”

His voice was way too close. You yelped and flinched away from Kisame’s voice, only to slowly turn yourself around. Fuck, your heart jumped right into your throat there. 

Kisame didn’t look one bit apologetic. On the contrary: the same cheeky grin you already knew so well tugged at the corners of his mouth, like he had to suppress a full, throaty laughter. Then, like a sea monster in the old movies, his body rose over the water level. None of you could stand here out in the water, but Kisame still easily held himself upright and calmly, while you had to work a bit harder. His face was way closer than usual, stealing your breath away for entirely different reasons than the scare.

Still paddling, you glared at him. “Not funny.”

He cocked his head to the side, grinning and with a spark of mischief twinkling in his eyes. “Eh, kind of. Your little yelp was very cute.”

“It wasn’t.”

“It totally was.” His eyes twinkled even more at your denial. “Because you’re cute.”

If your stomach could turn into sour milk, it would have. Everything inside of you turned sour, curdled up, and just straight up wanting to vanish. Because you knew, you just fucking knew Kisame was lying to you.

“Don’t say that,” you mumbled as you softly floated backwards, away from the man and his lies, “just… don’t say that again. Please.”

“What?” He shrugged. “You are cute. I can’t do anything about that, so I just point it out.”

“It’s just…” A few more meters of distance between the two of you and you tried not to show how hurt you were. Just by being lied to. “It’s just that that is not… It’s not true.”

Kisame paused. “What?”

“I’m not cute. I’m not pretty. I know that, okay? For a fact.” You raised one arm above the water, showing off the fat and let it drop again, where it was covered by the water with a big splash. “I’m fat. No one ever told me I was cute, because that’s simply not the truth. And no one ever did go on a true date with me, because of the same reasons. It was always just a pity-date, or to get with one of my friends, or anything but another person being interested in me. By lying to me, you’re just making everything worse in the long run, so just say straight up what you want to achieve by doing this,” you gestured around, the water splashing and sloshing with every of your motions, “and then we can be done with it.”

The words spilled faster over your tongue and lips than you could control them. All the frustration, nervousness and bad premonitions over this “date” finally erupted, as you paddled there and stared up to Kisame, who loomed over you, casting a long shadow over the water.

He listened to your rambling without a word. The cheeky grin on his face faded away, getting replaced by a slightly confused and even hurt look in his eyes. A small wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows, growing deeper and bigger the longer you went on. At the end of your tirade, Kisame almost looked downright offended.

But that couldn’t be, right? 

“So,” you sputtered, “I would really appreciate it if you could just stop leading me on and say what you are planning, so I can go back to my life with cakes and cookies and all of my fat, while dreaming about the day an absolutely gorgeous lifeguard asked me out, pretending he’s interested in me.”

Only the gentle murmur of the waves as well as the faraway laughter of children echoed in the deafening silence between the two of you. Looking up, you could read nothing on his face. None of his earlier cheeky chagrin. None of the frustration born from your words, not even a hint of any emotion visible. Just a stony face, with small, cold eyes looking you up and down. It felt like he could even look beneath the water surface, to parts of your body you didn’t want him to look at.

When he opened his mouth, the entire world seemed to pause, just for a few seconds. “Why do you think I am pretending?”

“Because…” You gestured towards him; all of him in all of his glory. “You are… you. And I am me. You, the attractive lifeguard, fit and kind and good with children versus me, the sugar-loving cow who does nothing but eat and is so insecure she can’t even find a single good thing about herself.”

“And?”

“And it’s just impossible that you want me when you could have any women or men under the sun!”

“Really?”

“Yeah!” You glared up to him as the acid in your stomach slowly crawled up into your throat. “So just spit it out! I’m a big girl as you can see without a doubt, so I can take it. And fuck, I get it, I wouldn’t date myself either! Who would seriously want me when I look like this?”

“But,” he sighed weakly, “I would date you.”

“What?” That took all the wind out of your sails. Did he just… “What did you…?”

“I think it’s a mistake to think no one wants to date you. I want to.”

“Why?” Like a stubborn donkey, you dug your heels in—metaphorically speaking, as you were still swimming. “No one ever showed interest in me, so I’m pretty sure of my assumption.”

“But I do. I want to date you,” he repeated for the third time, as calm and reassuring as one could be, and with the patience of a hunting predator.

“Why?”

Again, Kisame sighed, this time a lot heavier. “Because I’m into you.”

Your mind went blank for a moment. To think that he was still lying, right into your face… Your eyes narrowed. “You’re not serious.”

“I am.” 

“Why?”

“Because I think you’re hot as hell, have a sharp wit—if it’s not diminished by crippling self-doubts—and bake like a goddess.” He shrugged, the water rippling around his body. “Is that enough? I can make a longer list, if you want.”

The flames of your anger and frustration should burn brighter than the summer sun hanging above your head, but instead, you felt how your entire body warmed up. Somehow, your mind wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe, desperately so, that Kisame saw something in you that many others didn’t. That he was romantically attracted to you and not disgusted. That he was actually serious and somehow, that thought alone scared you to death. 

Because it meant that your attraction to him already went far deeper than you initially planned.

Instead of denying everything and anything, instead of showing some of that praised wit, instead of just simply swimming away and leaving Kisame in the dust, you stayed there, looked up into his face and felt like melting against him. “You think that?”

“I do,” he answered simply, “and, as we’re being honest here, all the guys who said “pass” when it comes to you have no clue what was in front of them.”

“But…” 

“No.” He cut you off, his voice soft and gentle. Just like the hand which rose from the water, its fingers followed the contour of your shoulder. From the biceps up to the curve, then dipping an inch lower to your collarbone. Before, when he caught you from stumbling over that damned root, the touch was almost accidental and casual. Now, the touch was deliberate, full of tension and definitive purpose. The purpose of touching you, experiencing the feel of your skin and seeing your reaction to his touch. 

You first flinched at the sensation on your skin, caught off guard and confused, before looking up and holding his gaze. You didn’t want to back down, wanting to prove your thoughts right—as weakly as that argument was holding in your mind. The trail of his finger slid higher again, up to your neck and jaw. There, Kisame stopped, with his index finger right beneath your chin and his thumb drawing tiny circles onto you. His touch burned your skin, leaving thousands of tingles and an instant craving for more in its wake. He gently forced you to continue looking at him, and without a chance or will to escape, you did. 

“No,” he repeated, “they had no clue. Because if they saw what I see, then they would have snatched you up the moment you stepped into their lives. Fuck, just look at you.”

His thumb stopped for the blink of an eye, only to pick up the soothing back-and-forth motion against your jaw. Out of instinct, you leaned into his hand.

It felt good. Great, even. Great enough to become addicted really quickly. But you weren’t strong enough to pull away, and Kisame didn’t let go as he continued to talk to you in the same calm, gentle tone he used before.

“I want you. And if I can erase your self-doubts along the way, fine. But don’t push me away before you even have the chance to get to know me, and before I have the chance to get to know you more.” His thumb stopped and just for a second, swiped over your bottom lip. You gasped again. Your mouth opened and like the wing of a butterfly, his thumb ran across the sensitive flesh again. Just the hint of a touch, without any real pressure behind it, and yet making your heart beat like you ran five flights of steps. 

Without realizing it, you nodded. Didn’t matter that he didn’t ask a question. The resounding belief that he truly meant it vibrated through your chest with a need to break free. 

Kisame’s smile grew. “I take that as some compliance on your part. My proposition to you, with absolutely no pressure: we continue this date, have a nice afternoon, then we can go to the next restaurant, sit down, talk and get to know each other. Tomorrow, you can think about it and if you want to continue, then I’m more than happy to.”

Not able to speak up, you nodded once more. 

His eyes closed with his smile; the biggest smile you had seen so far, with teeth and all. “Great. Now, I don’t know about you, but I will go for another round of swimming. You can join me if you want.”

“I…” Your voice was raspy and thick, so you coughed and tried again. “I would like that.”

Another swipe of his thumb over your bottom lip, now heavy, deliberate and pregnant with meaning. A meaning you hoped to finally have deciphered, now that Kisame told you his truth. Only then, he stepped backwards, leaving you fully exposed to the sun and the sight of his upper chest glistening beneath the sunlight.

As you followed him into the deep water of the lake, your insecurities still screamed at you. That he was probably still lying, that nothing he said could be possibly true, that you should leave and never see him again. A much bigger part of you, emboldened by his words and his tender touch, was intoxicated to the point of being able to ignore your self-doubts without a second thought.

#kisame x reader #kisame x reader insert #kisame x self insert #kisame hoshigaki x reader #kisame hoshigaki x reader insert #kisame hoshigaki x self insert #hoshigaki kisame x reader #hoshigaki kisame x reader insert #hoshigaki kisame x self insert #kisame #kisame hoshigaki #hoshigaki kisame #reader #reader insert #self insert #kisame headcanons #kisame scenario #kisame hoshigaki headcanons #kisame hoshigaki scenario #hoshigaki kisame headcanons #hoshigaki kisame scenario #lifeguard!kisame #lifeguard au #naruto fandom #naruto fanfiction #naruto fanfic #also on ao3 #historicfailure #freakypseudwriter

[snuggleboots]

₊˚♡˚₊ The Akatsuki, communicating their love ₊˚♡˚₊

₊˚♡˚₊ feat. Itachi, Kisame, Kakuzu, and Hidan ₊˚♡˚₊

Tags: Fluff, mishmash of random headcanons, general cutesy relationship stuff.

♡ Kisame communicates his love in various ways, but it's always most sincere in the little things he does. If you're both walking up a flight of stairs, he'll always walk behind, just so he can steal a kiss without having to lean down a bit to reach you. Usually, he'll follow that up with a stupid little, 'How's it feel to be the tall one for once?'

♡ He's a man who likes to sleep in, but when you're sleeping with him, it's his god-given duty to wake you up with some combination of stupid, sleepy shenanigans. It typically starts with some needlessly aggressive cuddling while he's waking up, which becomes a smattering of kisses and little nips dealt wherever he can reach, and eventually develops into... either cackling over your groggy irritation or moving into a little extra lovin', if you feel up to it.

♡ Cuteness aggression is a real thing, and it's his curse. If your tongue pokes out just a little bit when you're thinking hard or focused on something, if you flex your toes like a little cat when you stretch, or purse your lips when you're frustrated - he's gonna bite you. Always does. He can't help it, he gets the impulse to squish you, bite you, pinch, or bully you a little bit when you're minding your business, doing things that he finds objectively precious. You make his teeth itch when he catches you off guard, and you flash him those big eyes, and- UGH.

♡ Now, he isn't the perfect listener by any means, but Kisame is very attentive when tiffs happen in the relationship. He listens with the full intention to learn and solve the problem, and if things get a bit heated he'll calm himself down and ask you to back up and explain why you're upset. He doesn't make a habit of taking himself too seriously, which really helps him navigate rough patches well.

♡ Your personal space is his preferred space. You're stretched out, reading a book or resting your eyes? It doesn't matter where you're hanging out, that's still just as good as an invitation in his books. When he saunters on over and nonchalantly plonks his entire body weight on top of you, he doesn't even have the courtesy to say sorry for the disturbance. Nope, he's on a mission, hooking his arms around your waist and just burying his face in your belly. You're warm, you smell so nice, and he's livin' large on cloud nine, which means you're stuck there until he's decided he's had his fill for a bit.

♡ Itachi's a man with simple wants and simple displays of love. If your days are busy and he's tucking into bed before you are, he'll cosy up on your side to keep it warm until you're ready to join him for the night. It's a little silly, a little cute, watching a man like him streeeetch right out when you meander into the bedroom, and unceremoniously shimmy back over to his side before settling in and promptly passing out. That is, however, a quiet little token of his affection.

♡ He's perceptive about things you don't enjoy doing, and especially things you tend to stress about. Without so much as mentioning it, he'll tend to the little things like that just to take them off your plate. If you're sick or in pain, Itachi is more than content to take care of you. Sorry, it's a small facet of who he is, to tend to the very few people he cares about. The man also cooks, and pretty damned well at that. His breakfasts are a cure-all when you're feeling like absolute garbage.

♡ There is such a thing as an 'Uchiha pout', and he weaponizes it for petty reasons and to ridiculous extents. He isn't always just some stone-faced caricature of a stoic, and it's brilliantly displayed when you deny his simple requests, such as relaxing after a long day, curled up on the couch with him when he's having a low-energy, no spoons left kind of day.

♡ Yes, he wants to settle his weight into your side and just be - or better yet, rest his head on your shoulder and soak up some easy, effortless affection until he's feeling a bit better. (Please card your fingers through his hair, he won't nod off again, really-) If you really have the audacity to say no - and he will call it that - you're going to see him purse his lips, pinch his brows and angle his face away from you like some kind of disappointed housecat. 'You make me lonely', he'll halfheartedly mumble, because it's a guilt trip that works and he's fully aware of that fact. No, he does not feel bad about it, either.

♡ Kakuzu's 'love language' exists in subtle acts of service and physical touch, generally shared in private. No, he's not going to say he loves you, but he can show you that your presence doesn't irritate the part of his brain that makes him want to shove his fist through someone's skull.

♡ When the seasons turn and you inevitably wind up freezing cold every goddamn night, he's content to settle beside you on the couch and tuck your chilly feet under his leg while he unwinds with a good book. There's no need to fill the silence, just let it be and enjoy the moment. You're cosy, he's relatively happy, and for all intents and purposes, you two are set to have a wonderful, quiet night.

♡ And since Kakuzu's a habitual early riser, you're typically still snoring long after he's up and ready for the day. When it's time for him to get up and get dressed, he'll flop his blanket - because he sure as hell doesn't share one - over your head before he turns on the light to get dressed. When he's done and the light's out he'll pull it down and be on his way without having disturbed your sleep.

♡ On the odd time that you're waking up with him, he'll slip by while you're getting dressed and steal a kiss to your shoulder.

♡ When his nail polish is chipped and it's time to reapply, he'll let you do it. For one, it's less for him to do, but! It's also a little token of trust on his part to toss you the polish, plop his hand in your lap, and grumble something like, 'Don't paint my damn fingers this time'. You probably still manage to flood his cuticles, which he will grumble about, but it's the thought that counts.

♡ Hidan's love can sometimes be compared to that of a fat, obnoxious housecat. If he's off-duty when you're trying to enjoy some free time, he is firmly wedged up your ass because he likes attention and you actually listen to him when he talks about... whatever's bouncing around in his head.

♡ Lounging on the couch when he's just coming in from a month on the road? Haha, sucks to be you actually, because he's instantly ripping through the living room at terminal velocity, with full intentions of divebombing your sorry ass before you have the chance to scramble up and evade him. You're still wheezing from impact, and this guy's already launching into a tirade about every little gripe he's had about his mission. 'Kakuzu was a dick, the ration bars taste like shit, the coil broke on my scythe and, and, and...'

♡ Hidan loves a good late-night hangout, so he's usually around to burn time with you when you can't sleep. Even when you don't feel like talking, he always fills the silence himself by chatting your ear off about whatever comes to mind. Sometimes it's just life stuff, other times it's his interests - and often, he'll animorph into a used cars salesman for Jashinism. You expect it, he loves that you actually listen and engage with him.

♡ 'You only get to die if you lived, no matter how great or shitty your life was, get it? Seeing the end is a privilege', he'll mutter into the lip of a half-full mug. When you're tired at the table, jolting upright after accidentally dozing off for the fifth time during his proselytizing, Hidan will slide you a cup of something that'll keep you fucking wired for the night. It's not to be a dick, obviously, but you're listening! And this is important shit! 'Diseased, crippled, or fuckin'... broke; at the end of the day, you're alive, and your pain's recognised by Lord Jashin. Suffering is a gift imparted, that only the living receive, and...' something something Jashin is great, and you should probably definitely convert.

♡ He's claimed half of your bed, and sleeping with him fucking sucks. He sleeps like a starfish and steals the blankets, and you're not waking him up unless you feel like investing some serious effort into doing so. He snores, and on the nights that he winds up sleeping half on top of you, you have to deal with the fact that he drools like a dog and sleeps with his mouth hanging open. You don't wanna deal with that? Tough shit, you're comfy, and somehow your bed is just waaaaay better than his. Okay? Okay.

#akatsuki #naruto #kakuzu #hidan #itachi #kisame #writing tag #hcs #reader insert #akatsuki x reader #kakuzu x reader #hidan x reader #itachi x reader #kisame x reader #meant to do the rest but my brain refused to write the others #they'll get their own post at some point probs

[wing-ed-thing]

Kisame Hoshigaki Friendship to Lovers Headcanons

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns, Fluff

𓆃 It's about the only way it's going to go. Kisame isn't exactly the type to seek out a romantic relationship off the bat. He just isn't very interested, but unlike some of his peers, he hasn't sworn off the potential of a partnership.

𓆃 And yes, to him it's a partnership which is why the friendship to lovers pipeline is so smooth. Because in any potential professional partnership, you'll grow closer and more personal until you've ended up in a place where you don't know what you are per se.

𓆃 Will Kisame ever answer you? Hell no. You shouldn't even ask because he'll laugh you off, mess up your hair, and move along.

𓆃 He's weird about labels, but that doesn't stop him from being territorial.

𓆃 Rather, he expects for your relationship to be just be understood. That any special relationship or importance or any other sappy title doesn't need to be said nor should it (because that's the line of work your in).

𓆃 While he doesn't really stick to the old-fashioned shinobi codes, they are very deeply ingrained in him. The Hidden Mist was a very rough village and used draconic methods for longer than a good number of other shinobi societies.

𓆃 So while Kisame doesn't swear off close friends or other valued individuals, he's prone to keeping other's at an arm's length. The underlying value also being that he wouldn't hesitate to cut down anyone for the sake of a mission.

𓆃 It's likely best if you understand that to a degree. Not to say that you would have to agree, but being in the shinobi world should allow you to understand his attitudes.

𓆃 Although, this doesn't differ too much from other shinobi values.

𓆃 An ideal partnership would be most possible with someone Kisame hits it off with. He likes the kind of person who is willing to go along with impulsive ideas and keeps things interesting.

𓆃 Not to mention who will make a great sparring partner. It's how he likes to have his fun, so if you have good stamina and take pride in your combat abilities, you're sure to build a close relationship.

𓆃 Kisame likes to roughhouse and that will make up a significant chunk of your banter.

𓆃 And you'll carry on just like that, not even noticing the exceptions you make for each other because you're together all the time.

𓆃 And one day, maybe he'll surprise you.

𓆃 "I've had my fill," Kisame might say, heaving a heavy sigh the last of his opponents falls to the ground.

𓆃 You might snort, jesting that you had never heard him say that before or a snide remark about how you fought more than he did.

𓆃 And when Kisame tells you, "I think I'm retired," he doesn't blame you when you laugh at him. He snickers along with you at the ridiculous thought.

𓆃 Because he never truly is retired. But if turning in a bounty to get the fighting itch out of his system before coming to your secluded spot by the shore to start dinner is his version of retired, you supposed you should give it to him.

𓆃 You'd throw your headbands and cloaks off a nearby cliff. You'd build your little cottage yourselves, your two weapons next to the door as if they were umbrellas.

𓆃 A little dock would be nearby where you'd continue to spar, and a thick, fortified kitchen table for when you're stitching each other up later that night.

𓆃 You supposed nothing really changes in Kisame's version of retirement other than no longer having any allegiance to a nation.

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

Notes: I'm still recharging but since it's taking so long I wanted to throw y'all a bone.

#kisame x reader #kisame hoshigaki x reader #akatsuki x reader #naruto x reader #naruto #akatsuki #kisame #kisame hoshigaki #naruto headcanons #naruto headcanon #naruto x you #naruto x y/n #reader insert #x you #x reader

[kinksandkurlsss]

You have become increasingly agitated with the Uchiha’s constant emergence in your thoughts and decided to try something, or someone in this case, new to take your mind away from him. While on your travels with Kisame, you find just the target as you cross paths with a silver-haired shinobi from the Leaf.

Chapt. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8,  9, 10, 11, 12, 13 and 14

You stared blankly at the darkness in your room, bundled by the old, prickly feather comforter provided by the pub, trying to quiet your thoughts as you prepared to sleep finally.

When you closed your eyes for good, or so you thought, you let out a deep exhale while you let the increasing weight of your exhaustion anchor you to the lumpy mattress.

You began to feel your mind getting lighter and lighter, as you lazily released a slower breath just before slipping completely into slumber.

Sleep at last --

But, suddenly, your thoughts were interrupted by the increasingly louder thoughts of … another?

Was that … Kisame?

Right away, your eyelids stretched wide open.

No, no, no, you silently pleaded, your hands instinctively clasping your face as the blue giant’s raunchy thoughts began to inundate your mind while he loudly stomped up the stairs. 

From your unwanted sight into his mind, you could see he carried the same brunette woman from before in his hand, both of them drunkenly singing as they ascended to the top of the squeaky, wooden staircase and eventually to the outside of his room. 

The same room right next door to you ...

You snatched a pillow from the other side of the bed and groaned deeply into the stale, cotton-filled item.

Why, why, whyyy did this need to happen now?

Within an instant, your brain caught more unwanted visuals from the minds of the horny pair next door … who, by the way, had now been completely ripping off each other’s clothes.

You immediately huffed as you hurriedly swung your legs to the other side of the bed. Once on your feet, you flew through your room like a tornado as you looked for something, anything to plug your ears from the growing onslaught of moans and throaty laughs that bursted from the wall behind your bed. 

Your desperation led you to creating a pair of your own makeshift earplugs, using pieces of toilet tissue dampened with water to drown out the noise. 

You frantically sighed as the sound of Kisame’s low grunts instantly became muffled by your clever little invention. 

But, to your detriment, your small, damp beacons of hope were no match for the vulgar, pornographic scenes that flooded your mind in a never ending stream from your loud neighbors as they continued indulging in their lascivious activities.

Ugh, again you find yourself questioning why you agreed to share a wall with this brute? You saw those mucky thoughts of his beginning to bloom when you both were downstairs after he caught sight of some of the women in the pub during check in. 

You should’ve known better … should've seen this coming with the horny giant. 

Usually, in moments like this, when you were picking up another frequency of someone’s mental radio that you didn’t want to tune into, distance proved to be your best friend. But to your credit, as you desperately glanced up at the nails securing your bed’s headboard to the wall, who the hell plans for that?

But … seriously? Who nails a bed to a wall?

Just focus on clearing your mind, you told yourself, trying to begin to meditate in a hail mary to hush the ceaselessly intruding thoughts of Kisame and his acquaintance.

But every time you tried to focus, Kisame’s caveman-like ruminations about rutting the woman next door would blare through your own mind like a foghorn. 

It also didn’t help what Kisame and his “friend” were doing either when it came to your attempts to tune out the thoughts. Typically, the more intense an activity someone was performing, the harder -- ‘no pun intended,’ your brain automatically added -- the task was to block out their inner thoughts. 

You figured it had to do with how much effort the individual was putting into focusing on the task.

By now, twenty minutes had passed of you trying to quiet their thoughts. 

You were beginning to come to the somber realization — all the while Kisame’s bed kept banging against your and his shared wall — that this may be something you’d have to ... wait out.

Your shoulders recoiled and your face scrunched together as the rhythmic quakes from the wall continued to assault your headboard, making your bed frame shake along with your own mattress from Kisame’s attacks.

Ugh… how fitting this would happen to you, you thought to yourself.

As the woman’s loud thoughts of increasing ecstasy also began to barrel their way through your mind, you closed your eyes, trying again to think of something, anything else. In situations like this, it’s helpful for you to occupy your own thoughts with something more interesting as a way to force out the mental chatter of others into the background of your brain.

A few seconds went by and your mind was still blank, save for the lewd musings from Kisame and his company.

 And then all of a sudden, your mind conjured up an image of … Obito. 

Absolutely not. 

You instantly clenched your eyes even tighter and shook your head vigorously in response, as if trying to erase the visual like an Etch A Sketch. 

Literally anything else, anyone else, you told yourself, but not him. You were already slightly peeved about the amount of time you’d been devoting to thinking about the Uchiha on the way here.

A second later, the woman next door let out a series of loud “yeses” and high-pitched moans, making you wince.

When Obito’s frame creeped up again in your mind a second time, you grew agitated.

Gods, were you going to think about him the entire trip?

Your lips pressed into a white slash as you crossed your arms in annoyance.

There was nothing really that noteworthy about him, you told yourself, beginning to tap your foot against the metal slats stacked atop the other end of the bed. 

Yes ... he is the secret mastermind behind a criminal organization … one composed of some of the most wanted, ruthless individuals in all of the great nations. And yes, he is basically your boss, with whom you seem to share a weird connection …

You squished your lips together as you bit the tip of your tongue.

Okay, maybe there was something technically worth a note or two about him in the most literal sense, you figured …

As you began to think more about the Uchiha, the thoughts of Kisame and his associate faded some.

Though you had mixed feelings about him for obvious reasons, you noticed a small annoying part of you that seemed to actually want to be near Ob--

You were pulled from your thoughts when the vase on the shelf against the wall fell to the ground, shattering as Kisame and his partner seemed to kick their feral frenzy into another gear.

The increased pressure making the wall thud against your headboard, shaking you and your mattress even more rapidly than before, drew a hardened scowl from your face as your eyes felt like they could burn holes into the wall in front of you.

Though the interruption to your sleep largely served as an annoyance to you at this time, you were beginning to detect what felt like hints of ... jealousy?

It probably isn’t even that good, you thought, as the woman again let out another series of loud moans from the other room. 

You repeatedly flexed your fingers against the cover before crossing your legs and sighing deeply.

If you were being honest with yourself, you couldn't even remember the last time you had sex. 

It had probably just been months, but it felt like decades now as you could hear Kisame and his lady friend’s thoughts beginning to increase in volume again. His animalistic growls started to grow louder to the point you could clearly make them out now despite your makeshift earplugs.

Huh. Before you could stop yourself, a wild thought crossed your mind about what kind of noise a guy like the Uchiha would make in the throes of passio—

You clenched your eyelids shut again. 

Must change the subject, you reminded yourself. 

You were not going to do this, you thought forcefully.

A few minutes passed as you deliberately tried to think about random things like bunnies, clouds ... whether you needed to get your swords sharpened.

But you couldn’t manage to focus long enough to overpower the persistent, loud thoughts of your neighbors. You drummed the fingers of both your hands together in frustration as you tried to think about something else. 

When Obito materialized in your mind suddenly again, your lips involuntarily parted to let out an exasperated exhale.

Why was your brain doing this?

“Don’t sto-- --ucking me, -isame!” you heard broken cries loudly from the wall as you felt your bed shake more raucous from the two next door.

Desperate to muffle the thoughts of your noisy neighbors, you reluctantly allowed your own thoughts about the Uchiha to proceed… 

And though you wouldn’t admit it, a part of you was also curious as to where the thoughts would lead ...

You continued to keep your eyes closed as the cool air from the window began to hit your hot skin. While you settled into the mattress, you sucked in a breath as your brain imagined the Uchiha now standing … before you. 

A scoff left you. What could your subconscious possibly want with him here?

You tried to ignore the fluttery sensation that hurriedly followed in your chest as you let the thought continue.

He wore the same black cloak, which fit perfectly to his broad shoulders, and his shadow seemed to cover your bed as his large, muscular frame loomed over you. 

The sight was menacing, though something about it seemed … suggestive almost, as if filling even the imaginary air that stood between you and the Uchiha in your mind with intensity. 

You hastily swallowed.

When he began to walk slowly toward you in your mind, you could feel your back slightly arch against your will as your eyes remained closed while you envisioned the Uchiha.

You imagined him getting even closer to you before he eventually hovered over you, tenderly leaning further and closing the inches between your faces whil---

Suddenly, you snapped out those thoughts with a jolt in your bed when another fragile item fell from the shelf in your room, shattering, due to the “party” next door.

Incensed about yet another interruption from the couple, you snatched that last fragile item from the shelf to prevent any further cleanup you’d have to do in the morning and started to bang your fist against the wall.

“Knock it off!” you yelled angrily. “You assholes are fucking up my room!”

In response, all you could hear was Kisame’s boisterous, throaty laugh sound from the other side of the thin wall along with his partner’s continued moans and squeals.

“OH  -E’RE -UCKIN AL-IGHT!” you could hear Kisame’s muffled voice scream loudly through the wall.

You plopped down on the foot of your shaking bed as you stewed in your anger. 

When visuals your mind conjured of Obito just before the interruption began to pop back up in your mind again, you shook your head and gritted your teeth before looking down at the floor.

The realization of what just happened transpired to dawn on you. 

Gods, you had been fantasizing just now about … Obito.

Your frame suddenly loosened, allowing your upper half to collapse onto the bed hopelessly.

“What am I doing,” you whispered to yourself as your feet dangled off the other end of the mattress while you looked at the ceiling.

This was fucked for so, so, so many reasons. 

That had to be fluke. There was literally no way you could be attracted to this man, you tried to convince yourself.

 Right?

It was just …

Your hands shot up to your head as you closed your eyes. A deep breath escaped your lips while you rubbed your temples, trying to make sense of the situation.

You reminded yourself of the Uchiha’s actions, how you were roped into joining the Akatsuki in the first place … for crying out loud, this man was bent on world domination, you told yourself.

You hastily swallowed another deep breath.

Right, you told yourself. Clearly, you were just suffering from ….a lack of a small dry spell and a severe lack of options between the members of the Akatsuki and the Uchiha. 

You slowly nodded your head. Yes, this made sense to you.

Because there was no way, no conceivable way in hell that you could be attracted to him.

In fact …  you would prove it.

Seconds later, you rose to your feet again, beginning to rummage through your packed clothes for anything remotely form fitting. You eventually settled on your white tank top and tight black pants. 

As you started to put on a pair of your black, grunge boots, you checked out your frame in the mirror before heading out.

Tonight, you were going out, you decided. 

Kisame wasn’t the only one who could snag a fish, you thought as you threw your wild hair into a tight ponytail and gave your reflection a haughty smirk before leaving out the door. 

Though the village where you and Kisame set up a lodge for the night wasn’t very large, you were able to find what looked to be a club not too far from the pub. 

As you approached, you could see droves of people dancing through the windows, which seemed to reverberate from the loud music that blared inside. When your hand met the handle of the door, you took in a deep breath before straightening your frame and walking through.

Tonight, you were going to assume some control in your life. You were going to meet someone and you were going to enjoy yourself.

Clearly, this was what you needed instead of actually thinking of being with the Uchiha in … that way.

A shiver rolled up your spine at the thought before you changed focus, allowing the barrage of memories and deliberations from the dozens of people that were nearby swarm your mind while you made your way to the bar.

First order of business, you would get yourself a drink. 

Drinking was always an instant way to not only help soothe your thoughts and loosen you up, but also mute the thoughts of others around you, a quick and now much-needed suppressor for your kekkei genkai.

 You ended up ordering a side of cheesy fries, which were gone within minutes, and a glass of brown liquor. 

You allowed yourself to savor the drink as you got comfortable, becoming instantly more relaxed by the passing minutes with each sip.

The lighting was somewhat brighter at the bar, letting you get a clearer look at the smooth, dark blue counter you were seated at. When you glanced up, you saw a row of recessed lights along the ceiling above you. 

They shined a soft, low white on the bar area while the dance floor behind you was lined with red lighting strips along the edges of the space on the floor and ceiling. Flashes of neon colors flickered across the area from some kind of lighting mechanism near the DJ’s space.

You could only make out the faces of those who were closer to the bar lighting that had been dancing and drinking on the edge of the floor space. But you spot dozens more silhouettes gyrating and swaying to the loud music beyond them.

After your quick sweep over the spot, you turned your head back to the bar in your cushioned stool and continued to tend your drink. When you sipped to the halfway point, you rubbed your temples and closed your eyes as you let the alcohol do its work.

While your eyes were closed for a moment, you got the strange feeling that someone was watching you.

When you opened them, you saw a silver-haired man eyeing you from the other end of the bar counter. 

Gods, another man with a mask, you thought to yourself as you looked back at him before your thoughts began to flicker again to the orange-masked man who had seemingly begun to live in your head rent-free recently.

The man at the bar had a black mask that covered the bottom part of his face and you gathered he was likely a shinobi, given the metal head wrap. Though, from this distance and with the current low-level lighting in the room, you weren’t really able to make out the markings on it.

You took another sip as you forced yourself to focus on the other man in front of you, who also just happened to start walking in your direction.

When he took the seat next to you, his attention was first directed at the bartender, whom he ordered two drinks from shortly after. 

Then, without turning to face you, he began to speak.

“Hello,” he said in a soft, cool voice, his eyes still set in the direction before him, not on you.

From your seat next to the shinobi, you fought a chortle as you took in his overly nonchalant exterior. While the black mask he wore covered most of his face from your line of vision, you could tell from the imprint behind the covering that he also seemed to be smirking. 

 You smiled to yourself as you turned to look back down at your drink.

“Hi,” you responded, after taking a sip, while also setting your eyes on some random cup on the bartender’s workstation before you. 

After finishing your glass, you turned with a smile to face the man with an examining gaze. Seconds after, he turned similarly to face you. 

From what you could gather from your first closeup look at the man, he seemed to be in good shape, making him a potential target for tonight. But with one look at his head band, you struggled to keep your eyes from rolling when you figured out the village he descended from. 

Of course he was a Leaf Village shinobi, just like he was…  Your jaw tensed slightly before you wave over the bartender for another drink.

The shinobi squinted his eye at you, no doubt studying you after noting your reaction to his headwrap.

You could tell from the few thoughts you were able to see that the reaction stuck out to him, but he’d also been tipsy too and, it seems, on the prowl for a good lay tonight.

You weren’t able to see much in the man's thoughts, since you’d also been intoxicated, but from what you did see, he wasn’t too deterred about your apparent aversion to his shinobi headwrap for long.

“So, you … come here often?” the shinobi eventually asked you in a flirtatious tone, raising one eyebrow before chuckling to himself.

Gods.

“Not really,” you said while retrieving your second drink of the night from the bartender. “You?”

“Me neither,” he said, lightly chortling again to himself after taking a swig of his own glass.

“So, what brings you around this area?” he asked a few seconds later.

“Oh, you know, a little bit of this, a little bit of that,” you said as you began to sip from your drink before you started to playfully twirl your drink stirrer.

“You?” you asked him seconds later.

“Same answer,” he rasped lowly.

Although you could smell the liquor on the shinobi’s breath, even with the mask, you could tell he was still sober enough to keep his wits about him. You could feel his eyes still casually studying your movements, a trait that no doubt was probably second nature to the shinobi by now. 

You could even see from your peripheral vision how his eyes would flicker quickly or how his ears would twitch in response to sudden movements or noises in other parts of the club. 

The constant surveillance would’ve also had you on edge to speak to him on a night you were drinking. But, thanks to the close distance, you were still able to get some small glimpses from his mind, despite the alcohol, revealing what he was thinking about .. which, by the way, was something that made your cheeks hot as you set your gaze back on your glass.

After finishing the second drink, you looked back up at the shinobi to examine his features further. But when your eyes reached his face, you noticed he had been ogling everything but yours.

You smirked when he adjusted his frame quickly and widened his eyes as he met your gaze again.

For some reason, for a second when you looked into the shinobi’s sole eye, you suddenly thought of Obito’s single gaze. You felt your core tighten in response before you tucked away the thought and forced yourself to focus on the man in front of you. 

Not now, you told yourself when thoughts of Obito emerged again, not him.

You chuckled before slowly leaning in closer to the shinobi until your lips were inches from his ear. 

“We should dance,” you said to him, before leaning back into your stool and giving him a grin as you checked him out this time.

His eyes grew more lidded as they raked over your frame another time and back up to your face.

“That sounds --” he began to say in a soft voice before clearing his throat to speak in a more husky tone “-- that sounds good.”

It felt like his eyes were staring daggers into your backside as you took him by the hand and guided him to the dance floor. 

When you both found a space in the middle of the packed floor, you began to blend into the crowd easily as you started to dance to the club music.

Before being forced into the Akatsuki weeks ago, you would sometimes go out dancing at the nearby villages. You loved the feeling you’d get when you’d sway on the floor, the exhilaration you received from allowing your limbs to respond freely to whatever current the music offered.

You could feel the Leaf shinobi’s hands start to wrap around your hips from behind as you moved on the floor. The feeling was nice, but something felt like it was … missing. 

You continued to sensually sway your hips to the music, even lightly closing your eyes, trying to allow yourself to succumb more to the moment as you felt the shinobi begin moving along with you.

When your back touched his front, you thought of Obito again. You quickly opened your eyes, your mouth tensing as you tried again to shoo away visuals of the Uchiha.

But when you closed your eyes, he appeared again in seconds. 

While you danced with the Leaf shinobi, your mind continued to arouse more images of the Uchiha. His scent. His voice. His essence.

You could feel a warm tingle begin to spread in your lower stomach as you started to dance more sensually, rolling your hips against the shinobi.

The movements earned a guttural noise from your dancing partner, whose hands gripped down tighter on your hips as he leaned in closer against you. 

When you felt him begin to roll against you from behind as you danced, you again responded in kind, but instead of him, you imagined it was the Uchiha behind you, touching you greedily as he pressed against you.

You could feel yourself becoming sensitive as a desire for the Uchiha hankered within. Your hand raised to the back of the shinobi’s neck behind you while you danced against him in the dark club. Hot and increasingly rapid breaths met your ear in an instant. 

Your eyes clenched tightly as you continued to lose yourself in your tipsy haze, your mind imagining the Uchiha was behind you now, his heated panting warming the soft, sensitive flesh at your neck. His hardening bulge below rubbing against your lower back. 

When you slowly turned to face the shinobi, you felt his breath hitch as he turned his jaw to meet yours. Your lips were less than an centimeter from his, your heavy breaths mixing those from the shinobi, when you slowly opened your eyes.

When you saw the shinobi’s lidded ebony eye staring down into yours as he leaned closer, you instinctively leaned back.

Wait ... oh gods.

This … wasn’t right. Nothing about this felt right at all.

The shinobi scrunched his eyebrows, seeming confused when he realized you had suddenly taken a step back from him.

“Is -- is something wrong,” he asked, appearing concerned.

“Uhm, no-- sorry, I just,” you started to sputter awkwardly as you tried to wrap your head around what just happened.

“I just -- uh had remembered … um, I have to work early in the morning,” you said as you started to bring your hand to the back of your neck.

You began to smile nervously while you rubbed the back of your head, stuttering.

“Sorry, I -- I completely forgot,” you said again.

“Oh -- um, yeah I… get that,” the shinobi said, his shoulders beginning to slump slightly. 

“Yeah,” you continued, before making weird finger guns at him. You hated when you didn’t know what to do with your hands all of the sudden during awkward moments. “So I guess I’ll catch you later.”

Just as he opened his mouth again, you took a few steps backwards until you backed into another couple dancing before waving one last time at the shinobi and turning to speedily head for the door.

Once you were finally outside, you let out a huge breath, wincing as you let the past half hour or so sear into your memory bank for what would likely be all of eternity.

“Oh my gosh,” you muttered, again rubbing the back of your neck as you started your short walk back to your room. 

You thought of the shinobi’s face right before you left and instantly felt like an asshole.

Did you need to drink that much?

Things had just moved so, so quickly and … 

“Ugh,” you let out again.

You suddenly heard a throaty laugh erupt from the narrow alley next to the building.

The sound startled you, bringing your steps to a halt until you noticed who it was.

“Look who’s quite the man eater,” Kisame said in a more than amused tone as he emerged from the shadows.

“Youuuu dick!” you exclaimed. “You -- erg! What do you see?”

Seconds passed of Kisame just laughing while you stood there, fighting an urge to wrap your arms around yourself and put your head down from the sheer embarrassment.

No.

Fuck if I’ll let him see me like that, you thought. As he laughed, you straightened your frame, rolled your eyes, and returned to walking back to the pub.

He followed after you, still chuckling.

“I saw everything,” he roared again from feet behind, you could tell from his tone that he was still smiling widely. 

“Who knew the new girl would turn out to be quite the black widow,” he said before laughing again. 

“You know you totally gave that guy blue balls, right?” he teased as you neared your lodging area, he was clearly still very humored by the whole situation. 

“You are one to talk,” you shot back while opening the front door before slamming it so Kisame would have to open it himself.

As you began to walk up the stairs, you heard the door open and him laughing again. 

“You were the reason I left in the first place. I couldn't bear to have to listen to a whole night of your ‘party’ next door,” you said, obnoxiously using air quotes to emphasize the word “party” before reaching the top step.

“That’s not nearly as bad as what you did,” he said jokingly, “at least I leave my playdates satisfied.”

“And next time,” he said as he laid his hand on your shoulder when you both made it down the hall to your adjacent rooms, “try ear plugs.”

When you swiped at his hand and opened your mouth to yell to him that you did and they didn’t work anyway you stopped yourself instead. 

Earplugs couldn’t quiet the thoughts you’d heard because of your kekkei genkai, but this bozo also didn’t know about your special abilities.

While your mouth remained open, he pointed his finger at you, chuckling again.

“Didn’t think of that did you?” he jested, prompting you to scowl at him.

When you opened your door, you made one more look at Kisame before warning him, “What happened here, stays here, dick.”

As you closed the door, you heard Kisame say laughingly, “Oh, we’ll see about that,” before the door shut entirely.

You let out an aggravated scream, which drew another loud laugh from Kisame that you heard from the thin wall separating your room, before you began to angrily undress for bed.

At least it was quiet this time when you fell asleep.

--

Early the next morning, you awoke to a slight headache from your drinking the night before, but thankfully nothing couldn't be managed. 

Thank you, cheese fries, you thought as you got ready for the day.

You set out not long after with your partner to continue your mission to deliver a scroll from the Hidden Stone to one of the village’s shinobis, who was stationed at the edge of the Hidden Frost Village.

You estimated the trip ahead to be about half a day, give or take, when considering the rest area’s location wasn’t too far from the Hidden Hot Water Village.

For the first few hours of the trip, you remained silent as Kisame would crack jokes from time to time about how the “poor Leaf shinobi [y/n] gave blue balls.”

Eventually, you both fell silent as you continued to clock miles.

Until, at one point, you came across a strange flower. You stopped walking briefly once the plant caught your eyes, prompting Kisame to also stop feet ahead.

The flower had been native to the Hidden Mist, where you were raised in an orphanage as a child after your parents …

You inhaled deeply.

… after their killings. 

A wave of nostalgia gripped you when you saw the flowers, which were blue with pointed white lined petals that the locals said looked like …

“Shark’s Teeth, eh?” Kisame said in reference to the flower’s name, a smile tugging at his lips after he realized what you were looking so deeply at.

“Yeah … I … used to stare at them for ages growing up,” you said without thinking, your head tilting as scores of memories of you sitting outside, gazing at the odd but beautiful plant swarmed your brain. 

Kisame’s grin turned smug. “I figured you were from the Mist,” he said coolly. 

“Make sense,” he said, after taking a calculated look at you before shifting his gaze to the flower.

“And why is that?” you asked him without any emotion, trying to make sense of his muddled thoughts as you also peered more closely into them. 

It’s her eyes, you heard Kisame think to himself.

You stilled.

“No reason,” he said, looking up at you and smiling his menacing toothy grin.

You kept your focus on the flower as you continued to look more deeply into Kisame’s head.

His mind had been replaying … memories.

So many memories …. those of children, himself included, that had been unfortunate casualties of shinobi wars and violence. 

You gulped as you captured harrowing glimpses into the former Mist Village shinobi’s mind of an upbringing marred by blood from young, one that had been filled with such strife and trauma. 

Of a boy who fought since birth for survival in the Bloody Mist until he was hardened into a tool for his village leaders. Of the eyes of others he’d known who grew up in the Mist and had also been deadened entirely or almost by the village’s past blood-drenched ways.

Your breath caught as you felt a sinking feeling in your core. When Kisame turned again to look at you, he examined your slight change in demeanor.

“Come on ... just take the flower,” he said, forcing another smile to ease the mood. He hadn’t been sure what you were so deep in thought about, but assumed he probably shouldn’t know either. 

He didn’t like to get too close to other members of the Akatsuki, since, given his ruthless past as a shinobi of the Mist and later as one of its most infamous swordsmen, he knew any of his comrades one day could likely be his target the next.

“You know you want to take it … just do it already,” he continued to say, his voice playful though with a slight undertone of annoyance as you saw his mind regain focus on completing your current task.

“Besides, we’ve only a short distance to complete the mission,” he added.

And he always finished those, a soft voice in his mind reminded him, making his mouth tense as he tried to fight back an onslaught of more memories from his past.

You felt a shiver crawl up your spine before you started to move again.

“Yeah … I guess,” you said, forcing a small smile as you inched toward the flower, “I’ll just plant it when I get home.”

With that, Kisame started again in front of you now. You followed not far behind.

As you looked at Kisame’s large back, you began to feel sympathy for the former shinobi. 

A few minutes of silence passed before you spoke again after thinking more about the words he said aloud and the ones he didn’t.

You told him, “I’m not from the Mist by the way … I just grew up there.”

He chuckled before responding to you again.

“Then you’re from the Mist,” he said. 

“Whatever,” you said before eventually joining Kisame in light laughter.

 You both walked on for a little more of the way before you thought you felt something nip at your cloak.

When you casually looked down, you saw the grinning teeth of Kisame’s Samehada after it just missed your ankle.

You instantly jumped with a screech as you pointed wildly at the terrorizing pet.

“What the hell is that -- that THING doing?” you yelled, your hands beginning to reach the tips of your swords on either side of your leg.

Kisame let out a roaring laugh as he watched you while pulling the other end of Samehada behind his back.

“Whooaa, easy now,” he rasped after laughing.

You couldn’t tell at first whether he was speaking to you or his pet before he brought his arm around to lightly stroke Samehada.

“Again … what the hell just happened?” you said, your hands still at the ready with your knives.

“I … think she was trying to get at the Shark’s Teeth flower,” he said hesitantly before grinning after looking at the blue petals hanging from out of your cloak.

Chuckling again, he added, “I may have … eh forgotten those used to be a favorite snack of hers. She used to be able to scent those things from like a mile away.”

Hers? First off, you didn’t even really know Samehada was a girl.

Suddenly, you shook your head to focus on the matter at hand. That wasn’t the point!

“That would have been important information,” you breathed out slowly through your teeth.

You could tell from his thoughts that Kisame hadn’t been lying and meant no ill intent, though you were still a little annoyed by the fact that you almost could have gotten your ass literally eaten by his pet just seconds ago.

Kisame began to fasten Samehada more tightly to the leather holder on his back.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got her wrapped tightly now,” he said, his voice now more hoarse from his laughing, before he motioned for you both to continue walking.

“You don’t need to be scared,” he teased seconds after. 

You grunted at him in response, “I’m not scared!”

After several more joining swipes from Kisame, you both began to grow quiet again with your thoughts.

A little while later, as you and Kisame passed another small village on the way, you found yourself thinking about last night. You felt a tinge of shame creep up as you recollected your encounter with the shinobi from the Leaf.

 Gods, why had you done that? For a moment, you felt guilty for how you used him. 

Though you’d given yourself some slack not long after. 

Honestly, though you were drunk and your judgement was a little skewed last night, you thought he seemed somewhat attractive from what you recalled. And you’d left him at a club with a room full of women, many of whom seemed easy on the eyes, at least in the dark. 

All in all, you were sure he made it out okay. That made you feel a little bit better, thankfully.

But that still didn’t erase the sinking feeling you felt in the pit of your stomach when you thought longer about last night.

You had thought about … Obito, craved for him even, while you had a perfectly decent looking shinobi in front of you. 

Honestly, what the --

“What the fuck?” you muttered before realizing you were thinking out loud to yourself again.

When you looked ahead, you saw the back of Kisame’s head tilt to the side before he eventually adjusted his posture and continued on walking.

Part of him thought you were a little off, you could gather after peeking into his mind just now.

The thought from Kisame made you smirk before your mouth flattened seconds later as you continued to think about last night.

Then cognizance began to set in.

Might you, at least on some minuscule level, actually be … attracted to Obito?

--

Hours later, you and Kisame finally arrived at the meeting spot.

Just like before, a Stone shinobi approached you both shortly after your arrival. You were quickly able to confirm from his thoughts that he was the shinobi you were scheduled to meet, Azumi.

Kisame greeted the shinobi, bearing his wide, sharp-toothed grin.

“Hello,” he said in his cool, raspy voice.

The shinobi remained silent but his face tensed before he humphed to himself. 

Just as the previous shinobi from the Stone that you’d both met yesterday, you could tell from this one’s thoughts that he also had an aversion to the Akatsuki over its reputation, and wasn’t a fan of the village’s leaders turning to employing the organization for any missions.

You didn’t need to read minds to know just from looking at how Kisame’s jaw ticked that he was agitated by the shinobi’s rude behavior.

While you weren’t near as annoyed by the shinobi as Kisame was, you began to narrow your eyes at the shinobi when he held out his hand and glowered at you both, as if you had been holding him up.

Your jaw stiffened when you caught wind of his further thoughts. He looked at you both like you were nothing more than animals, savages. Your fists clenched before you loosened your hand.

Though, again, negative feelings toward the Akatsuki were understandable, his arrogance really rubbed you the wrong way.

Before Kisame could retrieve the scroll from his cloak, you quickly put your hand on his arm, stopping him, before getting in between him and the Stone shinobi.

“I believe my partner greeted you,” you said through your teeth at the shinobi. “And he doesn’t take kindly to people who don’t have manners.”

Kisame stilled for a moment, confused by your actions before reality set in, prompting him to smirk suddenly as he watched you.

You winked at him from the corner of your eye before looking back at the shinobi and clearing your throat.

Azumi’s frame tensed and he remained quiet for almost a minute longer. You could see the rage building up through his frantic thoughts before he decided to speak.

“Hello,” he eventually said, his teeth gritted.

“Hiiii,” you cooed in response before taking your hand off Kisame’s arm and bringing it down to your side.

A second later, Kisame, who was still grinning, slowly pulled the scroll from his cloak and handed it to Azumi. 

In an instant, the shinobi retrieved the scroll.

You rested your eyes on his again as he stepped back. You greatly angered him, you could tell. Though, part of him seemed spooked by how you looked at him, like you could see right through him, he thought.

This time, you shined your own proud smile at him. He had no idea how right he was.

He then gave Kisame a bag of coin, which you had the shinobi count out in front of him, for the mission. 

“Th--thank you,” he said, looking at you before shifting his gaze to Kisame and nodding as he quickly made for his departure.

And just like that, with a sack of gold in hand, you and Kisame were back on the road to return home. 

A few moments passed before Kisame again spoke.

“You know,” Kisame said, looking ahead at the road as you both started the trek back, “I didn’t need …”

“I know,” you cut him off, bored as you already knew the gist of what he was likely going to say.

It was clear to him and you, though he wasn’t aware, of the kind of shinobi he used to be. One who prided himself on not forming close relationships and on completing the mission above all.

“So, then why did you --” he began to ask again before you interjected a second time. 

“Because I wanted to,” you put simply, “and I can do as I want when the mood strikes me.”

“Just count yourself lucky you were the benefactor in this instance,” you added, jokingly.

You drew a laugh from Kisame in response as you continued the journey back. 

Over the next day and a half, you walked with Kisame, talking some of the way and spending the rest in thought. This time around, you both opted to camp instead of checking in somewhere, as Kisame’s more … private needs had still been sated for the shark-like man after his bout with the brunette not long ago.

Though, you both did make one stop along the way.

At your suggestion, you both stopped to get wine from a famous winery you were passing after Kisame eagerly agreed.

“Because why the hell not??” you recalled yourself saying to Kisame at the time.

Although he had a close relationship with his partner, Itachi, with whom he shared a strong sense of commitment when it came time to carry out a mission, Kisame could also grow tired of the mundane after the work was done.

He wouldn’t admit it outright or to himself, but you could tell a small part of him liked something about you then and there.

When you both finally split up on the walk back, you journeyed for about half a day home, smiling every so often when you’d glance at your wine bottle. 

-- 

Once you were back inside the compound, you caught sight of Obito’s light from his bedroom door on your way to your room to take a much-needed bath.

You immediately wondered what he was doing but changed your train of thought when you finally made it inside your room.

Soap and water. These were the only things you should be thinking about, you silently told yourself as you laggardly slipped out of your clothes before turning on the hot water.

You then poured yourself a glass of wine while you fetched your pajamas and towels.

The first dip your toes made into the hot water felt like pure bliss.

With every inch submerged into the heat, tension that had gripped your muscles over the past few days of walking seemed to melt from them. Your eyes rolled back once you were completely underwater from the neck down, save for your wine-drinking hand.

After the first glass, you instantly treated yourself to another, hastily topping off the rim of the cup before sinking into the tub again.

You thought about your mission with Kisame while you sipped away at the rich drink, a culmination of notes of blackberries and black plums.

Though you had in no way looked forward to the days-long task with the blue giant, you could honestly say you somewhat enjoyed yourself. And you already knew, despite his thoughts telling him he hadn’t, that Kisame had a not so unpleasant time with you, too. 

You smirked to yourself as you quickly sank your face below the water for a moment before hopping back up in the tub again, wiping away the soapy water with your free hand.

About half an hour and two more glasses of wine had gone by before you noticed yourself pruning. It was about time to get out, you thought.

And then what, the mischievous intoxicated part of your consciousness asked.

From there, your thoughts began to drift again to the Uchiha, the man who had essentially been the star of your thoughts over the past few days and ... who was now just a door down from yours.

More than just a little tipsy now, your lower jaw dropped into an unrestrained smile as you started to get up from the tub to dry off, deciding it was time to get out before you turned into raisin.

What if … you went to see him now, that same mischievous voice from before said again.

Your eyes widened as you started to steer your brain with haste from the wayward idea.

No, no, no, no, you quickly thought to yourself. That’s definitely drunk you thinking.

Though, you’d be lying if you said you also didn’t kinda want to see him right now … 

Plus, you had never really thanked him for saving you, that roguish voice added.

That’s right, your drunk mind continued as it feuded with what bits of your logical mind remained.

You wobbled a little, struggling to maintain your balance while you dressed for bed, both halves of your mind still warring … until one began to gain the upperhand.

You know, come to think of it, that was kind of a good point ... you never did actually thank him, really, you reminded yourself. You pouted obnoxiously as you stuffed your head through your shirt. That was a bummer. 

“Maybe now would be the perfect time,” you whispered to yourself.

Yes, the impish voice said back to you in your thoughts, there was no time like the present.

You paused for a few moments. 

Then you nodded as you left your room and began to walk down the hall. When you stopped in front of his door, you knocked three times before any sound part of your mind that remained awake right now could convince you not to.

Obito, who had been working at his desk for the past several hours, stirred, somewhat surprised by the noise. It wasn’t often he had … guests.

He knew it wasn’t Zetsu. No, the creature would have said something if it didn’t vexingly barge into the room without knocking.

Could it … be her, he wondered to himself, slightly confused. He’d heard you arrive not long ago, though he figured you were likely off to bed, given your recent mission. 

So … it must be her, he determined.

He could feel that strange tingly sensation in his stomach as he rose to his feet.  

What could you want, he thought to himself, still standing as he contemplated next to his desk. 

When you knocked again, it felt like his nerves were shooting off all at once as he began to approach the door.

The idea of you coming to his room, alone … especially at this time was strange to him to say the least.

Unless she --

He stopped that thought before it could continue as he reached for the door.

Having been standing outside his door for almost a minute now, you started to assume the Uchiha was gone … or maybe just working and ignoring you. 

The longer you stood, the more you wondered about the optics of the situation. How it would look to the Uchiha, you standing here, just outside his door … a little hammered in the middle of the night.

You could feel your hands moisten as you held your arms crossed before you ran them down the sides of your shirts. The more you thought about what you were actually doing, the more you questioned yourself. 

Your breaths quickened and you felt a nervous energy swell in your chest as you thought about possibly leaving before he could open the door.

Maybe you just give some stupid excuse about being drunk and testing the wood with knocks or whatever, you thought.

But just as you began to turn to head to your room, his door opened. A tall shadow covered your frame from the light behind the large Uchiha before you slowly turned back around.

Fuck.

“Yes?” you heard his thick voice say in that serious tone of his, making you sharply turn your attention to him … though those elements, coupled with the slight rasp to his sound, also seemed to call the attention of other parts of your body to his as well.

He answered the door in a long sleeve black shirt that molded to his upper half perfectly. Every dip, curvature, ridge of his chest and sculpted torso seemed to be more pronounced than you’d ever seen him before when he would just usually be sporting his Akatsuki cloak. 

You could feel yourself in your drunken haze beginning to get a fluttery sensation of sorts in your lower stomach as you gazed up at him. 

You could hear that devilish voice speak to you silently in your mind suddenly.

Mount him, it said.

Wait, no, your logical brain sharply responded as you fought the urge to wince from the back and forth in your mind. 

The Uchiha squinted his crimson eye at you, as if he was already analyzing you as you started to lean against his door frame while struggling to find your words.

When he looked more closely at what you were wearing, he felt his muscles tighten. 

A tight pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt, just as you had worn when he watched you outside your window from a few nights ago. He wrestled with his want to allow his eyes to rake over your bare legs. 

He almost grunted as he reluctantly brought his gaze back up your frame when caught sight of your breasts.

No bra, he thought, biting his lip before he finally fixed his gaze to your face.

Focus, his mind told him. She is just a tool, nothing more, he tried to convince himself. 

When you spoke again, his eye watched your lips.

“I just, er, wanted to say,” you began to say slowly, trying to pace your words while attempting to remember up from down as more of the wine dulled your senses. “Um, thank you.”

Gods, this was a terrible idea.

Obito was quiet for a moment, his frame involuntarily leaned toward yours while he continued to examine you more closely.

Something seemed ... unbalanced to him about how you were acting. Your form. Demeanor. The way you spoke even seemed different to him. Like you were … nervous for some reason.

When his nose caught the scent of alcohol from your breath, the corners of his lips slowly started to turn up from behind his mask.

Ahhh, he thought to himself. So, you must have been intoxicated, he summed up. 

His tongue darted along his lips before he spoke again, clearly becoming more amused by you with every passing second.

“And …  what might you be thanking me for?” he eventually asked, his voice lighter than before as he grew humored from the sight of a drunken you.

You thought you could hear the amusement in his tone, which should have made you more embarrassed of your poorly thought out drunken plans. But instead, you turned your head to avert his gaze and smiled.  

Welp, might as well own it, your drunk mind said.

“You know what, let’s restart this,” you began again, slightly raising your hands. 

“I may be a little drunk, which is why I’m even here like an absolute mess this late,” you said, your speech somewhat slurred. The Uchiha tilted his head at you now, his scrutinizing eye still squinted at you while a wider grin broke out across his mouth under his mask.

When he caught himself grinning so wide, he straightened his lips quickly. What was it about you that made him react this way?

“But,” you continued, pointing your hand in a random direction, “I just thought.”

You let out a breath, authoritative finger still raised.

Obito couldn’t help but grow amused again by you.

“Yesss?” Obito responded in that same smug tone, smirking.

You sighed. Ugh. This shouldn’t be so hard.

“I just thought … I should thank you,” you said hesitantly, your tone becoming more heavier as you continued, “for uh, for … saving me.”

At that moment, you let your hands drop to your sides and looked anywhere else but his eyes.

“I know you didn’t, um, have to,” you continued, your thumbs grazing the rim along the bottom of your shirt. “And, regardless of the reason why you did, I just wanted …”

You looked up again now. “I wanted to say thank you.”

The Uchiha stilled for a moment, his smile fading and lips parting slightly as he registered your words and your change in tone.

A few moments of silence passed without either of you speaking. 

When your eyes met his, it felt like the room, which seemed to have been spinning these past few minutes, finally stopped.

His head moved back faintly as he watched you. When you realized you were still staring at him, you broke the stare and your eyes darted in another direction from the Uchiha. 

But shortly after, your drunken gaze caught sight of …. wait, was that stack of board games in the corner of the Uchiha’s room?

Seconds later, a wide grin broke across your face when you started stalking toward the pile of games, passing Obito as you ventured into his room for the first time.

The small, soft logical voice in your head told you to go back to your room … but so much for logic when you’ve had almost an entire bottle of wine in your system.

“You’re kidding me,” you exclaimed incredulously as you picked up a shogi board and the Connect 4 board it sat upon. “The Obito Uchiha actually keeps games in his room?”

Obito stood at the door several seconds longer, his face still turned to the hallway as he fought the urge to scratch at the side of his head along his mask.

It was like she currently has the attention span of a five-year-old, he thought. But, bizarrely for the Uchiha, he seemed to enjoy something about this moment with you. Like there were less … barriers between you and him all of the sudden.

When he turned to look at you, you had already been setting up one of the games for you both.

He felt conflicted as his gaze wandered from you to his desk of work.

Once you turned up to face him again, excitedly holding up game pieces as an unspoken  invitation for him to join you, he could feel his pulse rate begin to increase.

Still staring at you, he extended his hand to close the door.

“Er, no, They’re … Tobi’s actually,” he hesitantly said, answering your question from before while you returned to preparing the game you chose.

He slowly walked toward you before pausing in place and eventually taking a seat on the ground across from you.

From his line of vision, you were seated right in front of his stack of papers on the desk behind you.

And ... at this moment, you were the only thing that seemed to hold his attention.

--

Chapt. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8,  9, 10, 11, 12, 13 and 14

#obito x reader #Obito #kakashi x reader #akatsuki #naruto reader insert #naruto fandom #tobi x reader #tobi #kisame #naruto x reader

[leporcide]

The Pinned Post

It's your local shapeshifter welcome home you fuckers. Age in your blog bio or I block :knife:

Important tags:

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-18+ Blog, Minor DNI please for the love of god -I try to tag things to the best of my ability but I am stupid so feel free to ask me to add tags to something -I like some dark shit. I won't lie. I'm not going to explain my trauma to you and get right the fuck out if you want to shame me for it. The block button is free and I use it to curate my own space. You should too. -I fandom hop often and wildly. I don't have dedication, only simp thoughts and nasty little gremlin hands.

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Recent Fics:

masterlist: coming soon besties

the cabin event: > cicadas in the background: Kisame Hoshigaki (Naruto) x reader, "Fresh air, scenic views, and a beautiful lake offer a perfect retreat when you need to escape life's troubles. But your peace, however, is shattered when rowdy campers move into the cabin next to yours and an eerie presence in the lake takes a keen interest in you."

> in the dark: kyojuro rengoku (demon slayer) x reader, drabble

[pinkfaeriefan]

I have a crush on Kisame 😳😳💕

#kisame #anime #naruto #self insert #x reader #naruto fanart #oc #naruto oc #akatsuki

[tumblingthingz]

not my fic but i really liked it so i thought i'd share

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14631714

#kisame x reader #kisame #akatsuki x reader #akatuski #naruto reader insert #naruto #naruto shippuden