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Title: Tanoshimi
Author: Evandar (yamievandar / hikarievandar)
Fandom: Naruto
Rating: R
Pairing: Kisame/fem!Naruto
Genre: Romance
Warnings: AU liek WOAH
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto and I am making no profit from this story.
Summary: Kisame had never tried to force her to love him.
AN: On Sunday, I was woken up by a text message at four in the morning only to realise that there were crazy-hawt sex noises echoing across the courtyard that had, somehow, managed to work their way into my mind without waking me up. (Why my phone did when the sex noises did not...I have no idea.) Because of this, when my phone went off I awoke with the urge to write Kisame/fem!Naruto smut. This is the result of that urge. It's not outright smut. Be thankful.
She gripped his shoulders and arched her back. Her full breasts pressed against the rough skin of his bare chest. He lowered his head to nip at her neck with sharp teeth and she hissed in pleasure.
Her cloak hung awkwardly off her shoulders. Her shirt and mesh had been pushed up, leaving only the thin material of her incredibly impractical bra between them. One of his large hands rested just beneath her left breast, and when he rubbed it gently with his thumb, shivers ran down her spine.
“Kisame,” she whispered. He grinned against her neck.
“Uzumaki Naruto, you will come with us.”
She’d looked up at Uchiha Itachi – a prettier, older, girlier copy of her team mate – and the man that stood behind him. She’d thought Uchiha more terrifying than his larger partner, even when said partner suggested cutting off her legs to make carrying her easier.
She’d thought about the village that hated her, the team mates that ignored her, and the creature inside of her that made her almost as much of a monster as the men before her.
“I’ll go,” she’d said, and walked willingly into the Akatsuki’s grasp.
He pressed her up harder against the wall, and she raised a leg in response. She hooked it round his hip and tried to bring him closer. His hand slid down her bare side – sword calluses scraping over her smooth skin – and he grasped her thigh. She could feel him pressing into her lower stomach. His tongue flickered over the pulse in her neck.
“Kisame.”
They had studied the seal for days, prodding and poking and doing more research into the workings of the Shiki Fuuin than anyone in Konoha had ever dared. Three days of being analysed had driven her up the wall, but when she eventually lost her temper and screamed at Pein to “get the hell on with it”, he had announced that they would not be removing the Kyuubi.
“To break the seal would be to send the Kyuubi to the stomach of the Shinigami in its entirety,” he’d said. “Kisame, Itachi, she is in your care.”
He lifted his head from her neck and kissed her mouth. She kissed back, pushing her tongue between his sharp teeth and running the tip over the roof of his mouth. He moaned softly and his fingers flexed against her thigh. He pulled away enough to nip at her lower lip.
She pushed him back and lowered her arms, letting her cloak slip completely off and onto the floor. It pooled at their feet, black and red, almost blending in with the blood soaking into the tatami.
She could have chosen anyone else. If she had been anything like the other girls from Konoha, she might have done. But she hadn’t. She’d chosen Kisame. Big, monstrous, vicious, polite Kisame. He’d taught her how to wield a sword and how to use her chakra reserves to their full potential. He’d spoken to her when all Itachi had sought was cold, deathly silence. He’d treated her like a person, when to the rest of the Akatsuki, she was inhuman. Prey. Something to be tolerated.
Kisame hadn’t tried to force her to love him, but it had happened anyway.
Her shirt and the mesh dropped too, and she wound her arms back around his neck, pressing against him again. She pulled him back down into another kiss. He braced himself against the wall with one hand – the other still held her leg in place around his waist – and he thrust against her.
She gasped into his mouth. Fire pooled in her stomach. She slid one hand down his chest and the hard muscles of his stomach to grip him through the cloth of his shinobi pants. The heat of him seared her palm.
Naruto had collapsed, panting, on the edge of the lake Kisame had created with one jutsu. Her clothes had been shredded, and red chakra had bubbled under her skin as the Kyuubi healed her wounds. She’d looked back over her shoulder at him as he walked over the surface of the water, Samehada slung casually over his shoulder – its scaled blade still dripping with her blood.
“You’re getting better, Naruto-chan,” he’d said.
It was true. She hadn’t started to drown this time.
Then he’d reached her side and extended a hand to help her back to her feet. She’d grasped it tightly, and he’d pulled, and she’d staggered off-balance to collapse against him.
The feel of his muscled stomach against her hand had had her blushing for days.
“Kisame,” she whispered. “Kisame. Kisame. Kisame.”
He pushed her pants down over her hips and thighs as she leaned against the wall. Her breasts heaved with every ragged breath. She wanted him to hurry up. She needed it. His touches were so slow – firm, but slow – and they burned her.
“I – please.”
She’d kissed him after a mission. Pein had sent her with Kisame and Itachi to assassinate a noble from Lightning. It had been a test of her training and her loyalty. She hadn’t known – hadn’t wanted to know – what would have happened if she’d failed. She’d only known that the Akatsuki wasn’t like Konoha, and one chance was all she would be given.
The noble had died the messy, bloody, painful death that their employer had asked for. She’d broken back out of the palace he’d lived in and returned to the rendezvous point without being followed. She could have sworn that Itachi – for a split second – had looked relieved, but she’d only had eyes for Kisame.
The adrenalin, the high created by her own chakra, and the relief had driven her to his arms. She’d pulled him down towards her and pressed a kiss to his lips and left blood all over his clothing.
He’d ran his fingers through her messy hair, and grinned against her mouth. “You’re beautiful, Naruto-chan,” he’d whispered.
He’d been the first person to ever say so.
“You’re beautiful, Naruto-chan,” he murmured. His fingers ghosted over the elastic waist of her underwear and she pushed her hips towards him. All she could think about was how wonderful those calluses would feel against her. How he would feel inside of her.
She reached for him and fumbled with the fastenings of his own shinobi pants. Her fingers slipped and stumbled, and he lowered a hand to help her even as he pressed her harder to the wall. His lips dropped to her neck again. His teeth grazed her pulse point.
“Kisame. Naruto. This is not the time.”
She turned her head. Itachi stood in the doorway. His Sharingan was active, burning the sight of them into his mind forever. There was a slight tilt to his head, and an odd look to his balance. He looked uncomfortable.
She hadn’t heard him open the door.
“Get dressed,” he said. “We’re leaving.”
She slumped back against the wall. Kisame’s shoulder’s shook, and when he pulled away she looked up into his pale yellow eyes. He was laughing.
She grinned back. They scrambled for their clothes together, and she was just slipping her cloak back on when he took her hands in his own, stilling them. He fastened the clasps of her cloak himself, lingering over her breasts for just a moment. She shivered.
“Best not keep Itachi-san waiting,” he said. His voice was lower than usual, rougher.
“If we’re good, do you think he’ll let us stop for ramen on the way back?” she asked.
He chuckled softly and she leaned up to kiss him. It was chaste this time, though if it hadn’t been for the soft clearing of a throat at the door, she would have eagerly dragged him back over to the wall.
They left the room, and the bodies it contained behind. Another mission was complete.
Author: Evandar (yamievandar / hikarievandar)
Fandom: Naruto
Rating: R
Pairing: Kisame/fem!Naruto
Genre: Romance
Warnings: AU liek WOAH
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto and I am making no profit from this story.
Summary: Kisame had never tried to force her to love him.
AN: On Sunday, I was woken up by a text message at four in the morning only to realise that there were crazy-hawt sex noises echoing across the courtyard that had, somehow, managed to work their way into my mind without waking me up. (Why my phone did when the sex noises did not...I have no idea.) Because of this, when my phone went off I awoke with the urge to write Kisame/fem!Naruto smut. This is the result of that urge. It's not outright smut. Be thankful.
She gripped his shoulders and arched her back. Her full breasts pressed against the rough skin of his bare chest. He lowered his head to nip at her neck with sharp teeth and she hissed in pleasure.
Her cloak hung awkwardly off her shoulders. Her shirt and mesh had been pushed up, leaving only the thin material of her incredibly impractical bra between them. One of his large hands rested just beneath her left breast, and when he rubbed it gently with his thumb, shivers ran down her spine.
“Kisame,” she whispered. He grinned against her neck.
“Uzumaki Naruto, you will come with us.”
She’d looked up at Uchiha Itachi – a prettier, older, girlier copy of her team mate – and the man that stood behind him. She’d thought Uchiha more terrifying than his larger partner, even when said partner suggested cutting off her legs to make carrying her easier.
She’d thought about the village that hated her, the team mates that ignored her, and the creature inside of her that made her almost as much of a monster as the men before her.
“I’ll go,” she’d said, and walked willingly into the Akatsuki’s grasp.
He pressed her up harder against the wall, and she raised a leg in response. She hooked it round his hip and tried to bring him closer. His hand slid down her bare side – sword calluses scraping over her smooth skin – and he grasped her thigh. She could feel him pressing into her lower stomach. His tongue flickered over the pulse in her neck.
“Kisame.”
They had studied the seal for days, prodding and poking and doing more research into the workings of the Shiki Fuuin than anyone in Konoha had ever dared. Three days of being analysed had driven her up the wall, but when she eventually lost her temper and screamed at Pein to “get the hell on with it”, he had announced that they would not be removing the Kyuubi.
“To break the seal would be to send the Kyuubi to the stomach of the Shinigami in its entirety,” he’d said. “Kisame, Itachi, she is in your care.”
He lifted his head from her neck and kissed her mouth. She kissed back, pushing her tongue between his sharp teeth and running the tip over the roof of his mouth. He moaned softly and his fingers flexed against her thigh. He pulled away enough to nip at her lower lip.
She pushed him back and lowered her arms, letting her cloak slip completely off and onto the floor. It pooled at their feet, black and red, almost blending in with the blood soaking into the tatami.
She could have chosen anyone else. If she had been anything like the other girls from Konoha, she might have done. But she hadn’t. She’d chosen Kisame. Big, monstrous, vicious, polite Kisame. He’d taught her how to wield a sword and how to use her chakra reserves to their full potential. He’d spoken to her when all Itachi had sought was cold, deathly silence. He’d treated her like a person, when to the rest of the Akatsuki, she was inhuman. Prey. Something to be tolerated.
Kisame hadn’t tried to force her to love him, but it had happened anyway.
Her shirt and the mesh dropped too, and she wound her arms back around his neck, pressing against him again. She pulled him back down into another kiss. He braced himself against the wall with one hand – the other still held her leg in place around his waist – and he thrust against her.
She gasped into his mouth. Fire pooled in her stomach. She slid one hand down his chest and the hard muscles of his stomach to grip him through the cloth of his shinobi pants. The heat of him seared her palm.
Naruto had collapsed, panting, on the edge of the lake Kisame had created with one jutsu. Her clothes had been shredded, and red chakra had bubbled under her skin as the Kyuubi healed her wounds. She’d looked back over her shoulder at him as he walked over the surface of the water, Samehada slung casually over his shoulder – its scaled blade still dripping with her blood.
“You’re getting better, Naruto-chan,” he’d said.
It was true. She hadn’t started to drown this time.
Then he’d reached her side and extended a hand to help her back to her feet. She’d grasped it tightly, and he’d pulled, and she’d staggered off-balance to collapse against him.
The feel of his muscled stomach against her hand had had her blushing for days.
“Kisame,” she whispered. “Kisame. Kisame. Kisame.”
He pushed her pants down over her hips and thighs as she leaned against the wall. Her breasts heaved with every ragged breath. She wanted him to hurry up. She needed it. His touches were so slow – firm, but slow – and they burned her.
“I – please.”
She’d kissed him after a mission. Pein had sent her with Kisame and Itachi to assassinate a noble from Lightning. It had been a test of her training and her loyalty. She hadn’t known – hadn’t wanted to know – what would have happened if she’d failed. She’d only known that the Akatsuki wasn’t like Konoha, and one chance was all she would be given.
The noble had died the messy, bloody, painful death that their employer had asked for. She’d broken back out of the palace he’d lived in and returned to the rendezvous point without being followed. She could have sworn that Itachi – for a split second – had looked relieved, but she’d only had eyes for Kisame.
The adrenalin, the high created by her own chakra, and the relief had driven her to his arms. She’d pulled him down towards her and pressed a kiss to his lips and left blood all over his clothing.
He’d ran his fingers through her messy hair, and grinned against her mouth. “You’re beautiful, Naruto-chan,” he’d whispered.
He’d been the first person to ever say so.
“You’re beautiful, Naruto-chan,” he murmured. His fingers ghosted over the elastic waist of her underwear and she pushed her hips towards him. All she could think about was how wonderful those calluses would feel against her. How he would feel inside of her.
She reached for him and fumbled with the fastenings of his own shinobi pants. Her fingers slipped and stumbled, and he lowered a hand to help her even as he pressed her harder to the wall. His lips dropped to her neck again. His teeth grazed her pulse point.
“Kisame. Naruto. This is not the time.”
She turned her head. Itachi stood in the doorway. His Sharingan was active, burning the sight of them into his mind forever. There was a slight tilt to his head, and an odd look to his balance. He looked uncomfortable.
She hadn’t heard him open the door.
“Get dressed,” he said. “We’re leaving.”
She slumped back against the wall. Kisame’s shoulder’s shook, and when he pulled away she looked up into his pale yellow eyes. He was laughing.
She grinned back. They scrambled for their clothes together, and she was just slipping her cloak back on when he took her hands in his own, stilling them. He fastened the clasps of her cloak himself, lingering over her breasts for just a moment. She shivered.
“Best not keep Itachi-san waiting,” he said. His voice was lower than usual, rougher.
“If we’re good, do you think he’ll let us stop for ramen on the way back?” she asked.
He chuckled softly and she leaned up to kiss him. It was chaste this time, though if it hadn’t been for the soft clearing of a throat at the door, she would have eagerly dragged him back over to the wall.
They left the room, and the bodies it contained behind. Another mission was complete.
