Here something that I have asked myself a few now times than I'd like to admit, so.... If Kakuzu were to eat someone out, would it be a tongue or threads? 🧐
as much as it breaks my heart, Kakuzu is innately selfish. He’s not a pussy eating connoisseur who would give you a middle part with his tongue to devour his meal like Kisame, or Mr put-your-ass-on-my-face-breathing-is-for-the-weak-lets-test-my-immortality Hidan. or even Sir Obito who had never known the taste of pussy but quickly became a devotee, on his knees with his mouth open like your pussy is the communion— Uchiha.
Kakuzu is not a pussy eater. but on the rare chance he would, he’d make you beg for him to stop.
Kakuzu does not like working for his meal, he’d lay on his back and beckon you over with a tired grunt, letting you settle on his face. “I said sit, not hover”, he’d grumble, glaring at you as if you’ve inconvenienced him by forcing him to hook his arms over your thighs, flexing his biceps to keep you steady when you attempt to wriggle over his mouth. He huffs tiredly, forcing you still. You can sense the lack of enthusiasm for being in this position. So you attempt to shift, murmuring a sad protest to free yourself from his blatant glare until you feel the threads slither from his arms and coil around your waist— locking you into place.
“don’t move”.
you try to listen, honestly— but the way his tongue strokes your pussy, hot and wet and incredibly rough, sends you into a frenzy. with your mouth open and gasps spilling, you squeeze your thighs against his iron grip, shuddering as his lips suckle on your achy clit and his grumbles vibrate upon your pussy lips. he’s so mean even with his tongue buried in your cunt, pushing in and out in hard thrusts, swishing the hot muscle over your squishy walls, feeling them spasm upon his tongue the familiar flutter you do over his cock.
you squirm, breathless, heated and utterly defenseless. Kakuzu’s name falls with your moans, bucking your hips into his tongue when he flattens it to rub harshly over your labia. Lewd, slick sounds trickle into his mouth, shining his lips and jaw the more pressure he exerts, cruelly squeezing your thighs when you buck your clit on his nose. He doesn’t care about your sensitivity or anything else you huff above him. he prods, pinches and nips your clit with his teeth and lips. Making you yelp and whine when the pleasure spikes into pain. It’s addictive, painfully addictive, especially when his chin juts into your hole while his lips suckle on your hooded bud.
Kakuzu doesn’t slurp on your pussy, he’s not the type to lap hungrily on your folds or dribble spit all over your thighs as if he were an animal starved for his meal (cough, the men mentioned above).
He growls obscenities into your cunt. Curses you for enjoying yourself, slaps your ass and kneads his rough hands on the fat that jiggles over his face. He grunts and bites your thighs when you jerk too roughly on top of him. Kakuzu shames you for every lick and lewd stroke he brushes on your pussy. “Dirty, fuckin’, girl”, he smacks his lips from the taste of your slick, hissing “jus’ makin’ a mess on me. disgusting”.
Yet his biceps flex when you attempt to push off, his lips wrap around your clit and suck meanly when you whine for him to stop. His threads slither out of his mouth to work alongside his tongue, pressing and stroking and fucking into your cunt with harsh glides that make your eyes roll and his jaw glisten. You feel full, your silky walls stretch and pulse around his mouth threads as if they were four, five tongues fucking you. Thrusting, pumping, rubbing in your pussy.
“Stop! Stop- enough, I-I”, you feel your belly tightening. Twisting your fingers in his hair, approaching a climax you know he’d punish you for despite the way he forcibly drives you towards it with his mouth.
His arm-threads squeeze on your waist, threatening you non-verbally, but your breath catches all the same. “I can’t”, you whine, humping his face in a desperate attempt to relieve the ache that flutters in your belly, your body chasing the release your mewls try to prevent. “Kuzu”, you cry, writhing with your hands gripping his hair the way you know he hates (loves).
He answers with a growl, a throaty sound that has you sighing another sound that’s close to his favourite nickname when it rumbles on your clit. His low grunts and murmurs to stay still disappear into the wetness of your cunt as the tight rings of your pussy clamp on his tongue. too sensitised, too wet, too—
“Fuck no”.
With a swift jerk and a low cry, your orgasm surges, splashing on his lap and cock, his threads still squelching in your cunt as they fuck you through your release. Kakuzu grips you tight by the hips, watching you come undone with his dark hair wild and falling past his shoulders, mouth tilted in a half smirk, half snarl, his neck and jaw wet with the same dribbles that now stain his cock. His threads keep you steady as you come down from the high, more of them coiled around your waist and thighs to have you hovering above his body as he sits upright with you.
“I told you”, he grunts, his glare half-lidded and heated with lust rather than hate. “I told you not to squirt on my fuckin’ face”.
You sigh, a dreamy, well-fucked out sigh with a lazy smile slanted on your face, “an’ I told you to stop”. You slump into his chest, admiring the sheen on his dark skin, “can we go again?”
“Fuck no”.
Daddy Kakuzu just isn’t a pussy eating connoisseur :(
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