omg i had this on my mind all day 🥺 so, imma share it with ya’ since you’re my favorite dark blog lmao. IMAGINE BEING SAKUSA LITTLE HOUSEWIFE AND NOT COOKING OR CLEANING ON TIME :) hubby would be furious ☺️🤭
- 👁👄👁
that really made me— ahh i’m honored bby ♡!! also, i hope this is okay!
t/w | nsfw, dubcon, abuse, slapping, choking, brief mention of breeding at the end, fem! reader
you woke up late, too late to get anything done. kiyoomi would be home any minute. he’s going to come home and see how much of a failure you are.
'you really can’t do a simple fucking task right?’
and so you rush. you throw on the dress he expects you to wear. you rush to do the dishes, fold his clothes a certain way— just like he taught you, and pick up the living room. all that’s left is the floors...
you make your way to the bathroom, eyeing the bucket and mop. it’s so heavy, too heavy for you to carry alone. normally kiyoomi would do this one thing for you; moving the bucket from the bathroom and into the kitchen right before he leaves the house, but you guess this time he was in a hurry. there’s no time to dwell on it. you grab the handle, waddling towards the living room, but you didn’t account for the stray shoe to make you lose your balance. what is it doing there? why isn’t it in the shoe rack? you gasp, the bucket and you both falling with a thud.
the water spills and you watch, watch as it trails away from you and right into black shoes. your breath catches in your throat and your eyes trail up his legs to his face. his eyes are staring right into your very soul. you already know what he’s thinking without him saying anything, ‘this should be done already, so why the fuck are you doing it now?’
“kiyoomi...” you whimper, scrambling to sit up straight. “i’m— i’m— i woke up late... p-please.”
it’s the silence that scares you. the unblinking eyes that hold so much hostility in them, the way his jaw is clenching and hands in fists. you don’t flinch when his hand swiftly roots itself into your hair, but you do flinch when he drags you across the floor and towards the kitchen.
“omi! please!” you wail, clothes getting even more soaked in water as he pulls you through the puddle. you know not to touch him, no matter how badly you want to grab onto his wrist in some sad attempt to ease the pain. “please, please, please! i’m so sorry!”
he shoves you, head smacking into the tile. your shoulder meets the floor, pain blooming from the impact and a strangled cry leaves your lips. kiyoomi kicks your stomach making you fall onto your back.
“what the fuck is your problem?!” he snarls out, settling between your legs. “can’t fucking wake up on time to do something so simple.”
you can hear the jingling of his belt, the pop of the button, and the pull of his zipper.
“if you can’t even fucking clean up,” he grunts and you can feel him pull your panties to the side, cockhead sliding along your entrance. “here’s something i know you can do.”
he pushes in. no prep. no mercy.
your eyes widen and tears stream down, down your face like the water that fell. kiyoomi wraps his hand around your throat, tightening when you start to try and push him away. it hurts so badly like a fire was ignited within you and it only gets worse when he starts moving. he disregards the way you’re not prepped and you wonder if this even feels good for him.
'does it look like i care about how you feel? it’ll always feel good for me.’
“didn’t you tell me you wanted to be a housewife? didn’t you want to stay at home and cook and clean?” he smacks you, hand wet so the pain is amplified. water smacking and skin tingling. “so why can’t you do it now? or is taking dick all you’re good for?”
he can feel you start to clench around him, pussy gushing at the degrading words.
stupid slut. stupid pussy.
“no, it’s not! i can do it!” you wail. “i can take care of everything, omi! i promise you!”
your hands grip onto his shoulders and your eyes widen when kiyoomi kisses you. it’s bruising and manic, laced with tones of obsessiveness. you moan into his mouth as his hand tightens around your throat. he’s kissing you like he didn’t just hit you and call you useless.
“omi.” you pull back, whispering against his lips. “kiyoomi, please cum in me. i’ll do better. i promise. i promise.”
he watches as your eyes roll back, lips parted as he fucks you into the kitchen tiles. your gummy walls are pulsing, fluttering around kiyoomi’s length and he just wants to wring your neck out.
he hates you for being so malleable, for being so caring, for not making fun of his overt need to have everything be clean. and so his hand leaves you. they settle behind your knees, pushing your legs up and you mewl at the feeling of him hitting deeper. he’s thrusting with such intensity, a fire in his eyes that you’ve never seen before.
“maybe...” he starts. “maybe if i fuck a little brat into you, you’ll start doing things better.”