[ scaramouche / male reader ]
tw : reader has a toxic behavior, i do not condone it. angst… i think. short, kind of—it’s just a brainrot. nsfw. minors, though i do not control what you consume, just read at your own risk—i certainly will not be responsible for you.
There you are again, coming home from work with some… marks on the side of your neck. Kunikuzushi could feel his chest clench uncomfortably once again. This isn’t the first time, and he’s certain it won’t be the last.
He’s nothing but a mere housewife. Just waiting for you to come home and serve and take care of you like how a servant would to his master. Kuni’s a weak, fragile little thing when you first met him, married him, and until now.
“Hi…” he greeted meekly when you plopped down the couch, and Kuni approached you slowly, an apron tied around the dip of his hips, having just finished cooking dinner. “Um… how was work?”
“Tiring,” was your simple reply, proceeding to lean your head back and close your eyes to the cushions—and Kuni saw more of those hickeys. He fought hard to not let the tears spill from his glassy eyes.
Despite how helpless he is, Kuni already knows you have… someone else. Where would all the hickeys come from? And the condoms on the pocket of your trousers whenever he washes them…
Kunikuzushi managed to steady his voice, “Are you hungry? I just finished cooking dinner…”
“Hm, no,” you replied. “Not hungry. Just tired.”
Yeah, tired fucking your assistant, is what he desired to say, but he knows better than to open his big mouth and risk getting a harsh slap on the face.
“Come here, sweet darling, why don’t you?” you said, spreading your legs. Kuni swore you saw the hesitation in his eyes, and he watched as your face dissipated into an unreadable expression—your gaze darkening.
Nonetheless, Kunikuzushi complied, moving to slowly kneel down, his face in front of the bulging tent of your pants.
“Help me relax, will you? After all, it’s your obligation as my loving wife to comfort me after a long, exhausting day of work.”
You delicately placed a hand under his chin, looking into his alluring, doe-like indigo eyes as it looked up at yours. Kuni felt your thumb trace his soft, flawless cheek, which slowly trailed over to the corner of his mouth, to his pink, plump bottom lip.
“So pretty…” you mumbled. You never cease to give him compliments like this, and when you do, Kuni will always feel his insides turning jelly—no matter what the situation is. “Put that lovely mouth of yours into good use, hm? Is that okay for you, darling?”
Asking whether it’s okay or not is another one of your tactics of manipulating his little brain. Of course, what has he to do? If he refuses, he’d have to meet your wrath. You will pound him into oblivion, fuck him until he’s pliant and docile again, until he can’t walk—
Kunikuzushi wonders how it got to this. When you two had just began dating, you were so, so, so sweet, and it was the reason he fell deeply in love with you. He could feel you deeply in love with him, too. And then a several more years passed, you proposed to him after your first sex together. He remembered crying tears of joy, clinging onto you tightly after you put the ring on his finger.
The first years of your marriage had been pleasant he couldn’t ask for more.
But he should’ve known everything is bound to change. Ever since that pesky person had been promoted as your assistant… everything changed.
Kunikuzushi remembered when he first stepped foot in your company as your spouse. There’s this one employee of yours who will always wear provoking clothes, bring you coffees, send a seductive wink and smile, with their hips swaying as they walk out of your office—Kuni can’t help but feel insecure.
He wondered if you found them more pretty than he is, if you will replace him with them. When he voiced out his concerns one night, as you two laid naked under the covers, you reassured him: “Oh, come on. If I am to replace you, I wouldn’t have had sex with you.” And you had said it so carelessly and casually he can’t help but clench his hand into a fist, clutching the blanket.
A couple of days later, you began coming home with hickeys on your throat that Kuni certainly didn’t give you. You’d also just ignore his existence and just proceed going into your shared bedroom and sleep—you will only acknowledge him when you need relief; his body.
Kuni let the first tear spill from his eye when he felt your fat cockhead hit the back of his throat. No matter how many times he had taken you in his mouth, he will never not gag around your long, and huge monstrosity of a cock, and you’re just halfway in his mouth! He wrapped his small hands on the few more inches he couldn’t accommodate, drool sliding down your shaft.
How did it come to this? Kunikuzushi thinks. He’s more of a sex slave than a housewife now. Tears spilled, he doesn’t know if it was because of the asphyxiation of your cock blocking his airways, or because of the thought that, right now, at this moment, he’s nothing more but a mere slut giving you the relief you needed.
Kuni felt like a cheap whore, his whole pride and dignity eaten away. He should feel good that he’s making you feel good, but why isn’t he? Why does he feel like this isn’t enough?
He misses your kisses, your hugs, your sweet words of affirmation.
Kuni cried with a heavy heart when you released in his mouth, some of it dripping down his chin.
And he cried as you stand up and leave him kneeling on the ground, not even sparing him a single glance.
