ihatereiji

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏, 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐, 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑, 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒, 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟓, 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟔

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖, 𝟏𝟖+

Two weeks have passed since that fateful night your friendship with Alastor spiraled into something volatile instead of romantic.

You hadn’t seen much of him since then.

And though your gut still churned in resentment at the fleeting memory of his cruel endeavors, you weren’t exactly avoiding him.

No, not on purpose… as much as you would have loved to torture him with your absence.

The time you had spent apart was owed to college.

It was finals week, and with the high expectations of your parents bearing down on your weary shoulders, you had no opportunity to go out and carouse, to peruse through the French District of New Orleans as you clung to your best friend’s arm, who had wronged you in more ways than one.

Unless you wanted to leave your parents in a state of perpetual disappointment, the weekends were better spent with your nose buried in the books.

You couldn’t afford to spare a single second on the streets stumbling around in your heels with bootleg liquor coursing through your veins.

“You’ve never kissed anybody, have you now?” You tilted your head in curiosity, fingers absentmindedly playing with the collar of a shirt.

Still, you refused to allow college to stop you from partaking in the war Alastor had inadvertently waged in his pursuit of vengeance.

right now, layers of dark plum hair should have gently slipped through her fingers as she brushed strands away from his face, her hooded eyes memorizing every shade of purple that faded into blonded tips. instead, her palms roamed his side of the bed endlessly for him, yet the duvet was cold and abandoned under her touch.

yui slowly forced herself to sit up, pulling the sheets over her bare shoulders as she looked around the dim room, only to feel her heart grow heavy at her husband's absence—again.

it was no surprise that reiji had already left; a wave of disappointment and anxiety washed over her as she wondered when he would return home.

months after settling into their new home, shortly after their wedding, it still seemed like they hadn't found the right balance between work and married life. with reiji working tirelessly alongside shuu as his right-hand man and yui’s new job at a popular florist shop in town, it's been hard to have much-needed quality time together as of late. of course, it became even harder when the second son is away in the demon world for days at a time, especially with tensions rising between the clans.

lately, when reiji is away for so long, yui can't help but become restless. even for just a few days, the overwhelming loneliness that consumed her made her long for him, aching to be by his side—now more than ever.

and so, as soon as her groom finally arrived home safe and sound the night before, his bride wasted no time, collapsing into his arms with desperate longing—seeking for warm his embrace, her safe haven that now felt taken from her. a selfish way of thinking, she knows—they both do—becoming an afterthought the moment she's swept off her feet and carried to their bedroom.

her beloved.

her everything.

her reiji.

oh, did she miss the days when it was just them and only them under the moonlight, so lost in each other that it felt like they were the last beings standing. another sleepless encounter—flushed bodies moving in perfect harmony, melodic sounds of ecstasy, and hushed words of the night opened a new state of absolute bliss by the time the sun started to kiss the horizon—another morning where yui woke up alone.

the bed creaked softly beneath her as she slipped into the fuzzy warmth of the bathtub, trying to escape the cold that nibbled at her naked skin. a sigh escaped her lips as the thought settled—how much longer would she be left alone this time?

she shook off her uneasiness, rubbing her forehead as if a headache was brewing, her mind spiraling into worry. the cold band of her wedding ring caught her attention, causing her to pull her hand away from her face. she gazed down at the diamond, beautifully encased in pale gold, its shimmer offering a fleeting comfort over her bittersweet melancholy.

yui forced herself to look away, pushing aside her feelings to focus on work. just as her nose prickled and tears welled up, she opened her dresser and saw a note resting on top of her neatly folded work vest and apron. with a curious yet knowing smile, she carefully unfolded the paper, fighting back the urge to cry as her eyes caught the familiar handwriting.

“I apologize for leaving before you woke. Please forgive me; I must attend to urgent business, as Shuu is not competent enough to resolve the situation appropriately without my assistance, as usual.”

a small laugh, though dry and tinged with heartache.

“I promised to have an early dinner with you before my departure; however, my professional commitments take precedence over personal matters, so unfortunately, I could not sleep in with you today. To compensate, I prepared one of your favorites for work, and my special blend of revitalizing tea is on the kitchen counter. Steep it to your liking. I will see you later tonight—”

a single droplet falling on his letter, a soft sob resonating in their quiet bedroom.

“Mornin’, mon chouchou,” Alastor murmurs to her, dipping his head to press a reverent kiss to her nose, voice sweet and low. “Did you sleep well? Hm? Did you get a good night’s sleep?”

She doesn’t respond, of course she doesn’t. She’s only 5 months old. There’s a lot she has to learn. She is only capable of cooing or babbling.

“Oh, I’m sure you did, seeing as you woke me up at 6 A.M.,” Alastor softly continues, legs striding towards the living room, trying not to wake you. “You kept your maman up alllll night, didn’t you?”

But there's one detail that makes their connection even more interesting. Before "Black Butler," Yuta Furukawa performed in the musical "Elisabeth" — playing the role of Prince Rudolf.

In that musical, there's a famous duet between Rudolf and the Angel of Death (Der Tod). Back when Yuta played Rudolf, the role of Death was performed by the equally magnificent Shirota Yu. And as it later turned out, Shirota Yu is also connected to "Black Butler" — he played a supporting role in the film adaptation.

(Yu Shirota played Charles Bennett Sato in the 2014 live-action film "Black Butler)

And here's what's most symbolic: now, in some versions of "Elisabeth," Toshiki Tateishi plays the role of Rudolf, while Yuta Furukawa plays the Angel of Death. So their positions in the musical have essentially swapped.

·༻𐫱 In which an adopted apothecary has to help the vicious emperor due to his... 'medical complication'...

wc: 7.8k

Includes:

Dominant reader (she's extreme, but she could be worse) and submissive (sexually) Sukuna (ooc because he would never be like this, but a girl can imagine)

The reader has a loving mother from whom she gets her sass. (I, <3 her mom)

Reader is whimsy and loves nature.

Kinda crack-ish (?)

I hope I wrote the dominant reader correctly because I don't match her by ANY means.

Not proofread, sorry </3

Smut: Cunnilingus, handjob, mutual masturbation, no P in V, use of 'good boy,' Sukuna whining, Sukuna has two tongues, fingering, reader is on the cream team, blood warning... (only a few lines), impact play, spit & cum play, teasing, edging. A lil nasty :)

The birds tweeted at the crack of dawn. The sun peaked above the horizon, rising slowly yet gradually. 

The windy air was dewy and slightly humid. The air tickled your body, stirring you out of your sleep. Your shoji door was cracked open enough to let you see the weeping petals of the ornate cherry blossom tree. 

You lived in a small but comfy shack about an hour's walk from the bustling capital city, where the main palace was. The area near you was deserted, but there was plenty of foliage nearby to keep you company.

The animals also frequented your yards for little treats when they felt like it. You came to know some of them personally, and they became your little pets. 

You enjoyed the city, yes, but you also enjoyed your tranquil little slice of heaven in the middle of nowhere. 

You rolled off the mat onto the floor to stretch a little before rising. You’d tidied your appearance for the day. 

You lathered homemade camellia oil into your skin to keep it moisturized. You took your hygiene most personally. 

You looked through your clothes and decided to put on a newly sewn robe that you’d made. You’d grown to be quite resourceful and crafty for a girl your age. 

You’d lived on your own for as long as you could remember. Your biological mother was apparently from another place besides the main city. She’d dropped you at an orphanage when you were 2. You hardly even remembered the woman. 

You bounced in and out of multiple orphanages as a child before finally being kicked out and relying on yourself from age 5 onward. 

You did everything you could to survive as a child, sometimes even resorting to minor crimes…

One day, a woman caught you attempting to steal a piece of her fruit wrapped in rope. She saw you immediately. She hit you repeatedly on the head with a fan violently. 

You cried out repeatedly for her to stop profusely, but instead, her free hand moved to pinch your ear viciously. 

“You insolent child! What business do you have trying to steal my fruit? Are you aware how much peaches of this quality cost?”

You place your hand atop your head, attempting to protect your head from damage. “I’m sorry, Miss! I was just hungry! I apologize, I swear.” 

A tear dropped from your cheek as your lip began to tremble. You really didn’t know what else to do. to get food. You couldn’t find a job at your age anyway. All you knew how to do was steal. 

“Where is your mother, child? Bring her to me now," the woman demanded, her tone sharp. 

Tears began to flow more; you’d have to be honest with the woman. Maybe she’d considered giving you food. 

“I am an orphan, Miss. My mother left me when I was a baby, and I was kicked out of the orphanage when I was about 5. I believe I am 6 now, Miss... I just wanted something to eat. I am sorry!” At this point, you’d reduced yourself to pleading while sitting on your knees. You hoped to beg her forgiveness, for your fear of being publicly chastised would kill you. 

The woman looked you up and down. Your hair was messy, and your skin was stained with the tan-colored dirt that sprawled along the road. Your outfit consisted of oversized rags tied together. You looked much lower in quality, even compared to those of the lowest class. 

The woman held out her hand to you. You stopped crying and just looked up to her, confused. You rubbed the tears off your face. 

“Pick yourself off the filthy floor this instant, child.” You hesitated to grab her hand, although it seemed like a nice gesture. She outstretched her hand forward sternly. “What are you waiting for? Let's go!”  

You hurriedly grabbed the woman's hand and waddled to your feet. The woman took a piece of fruit off the cloth and handed it to you. You began vigorously eating the fruit in anticipation. Peach juice splattered all over your face. You’d never tasted such flavorful and succulent fruit. This was definitely high-quality fruit, possibly even meant for those of noble birth.

“You're very well spoken for a 5-year-old, but we’ll have to teach you how to eat with some manners, won't we?” You were just so happy that you continued to eat the fruit with one hand. The woman enveloped your other hand so closely. Anyone would think you were her child. You two didn’t even look alike at all. 

The woman brought you into a house with multiple stories. At the bottom floor, it seemed to be a house full of courtesans. 

You curiously looked around to look at the beautiful women. They were truly breathtaking, with luxurious garments and ornate makeup all over. The atmosphere smelled of high-quality perfumes and oils. Men bustled all over, some arm in arm with the women. Others are taking their distance from the others, probably ones of higher status. 

You looked up at the woman curiously as she looked down at you. “This is not for you, child. You, my dear, are far too young and innocent.”

The woman picked you up and carried you up the stairs. Her hand softly pressed your head onto her shoulder. 

After what felt like two more flights, she put you down, letting you waddle on your own again. She then led you into an expansive room. 

The room was beautiful and luxurious. Silks were all over the room, and there was even a vanity with stocked beauty products. 

The woman put her goods down on one of the other desks before turning to you and discarding the peach pit in your stubby hands. 

“Undress, child. You will need to shower & bathe. You are far too dirty. It cannot be good for your health.” You did so, and the woman carried you into a bathroom to get the dirt off of you. She scrubbed your skin furiously, managing to rid you of all possible dirt that could have lingered. 

She then let you sit in the warm water at a private bathhouse, which was tranquil and peaceful. You’d never taken such a detailed bath in your life. You felt really clean. 

She calmly told a servant to fetch you some clothes from a nearby boutique. When you were done, the woman dried you with a towel and sat while the servant fetched your clothes and food. 

You happily swung your legs as she dried you off. Humming and singing to yourself. 

She stopped rubbing the towel for a second as her eyebrows furrowed. “Child, what is your name?” 

All you did was shake your head as she handed you a cracker to munch on. The orphanage didn’t really give you a name, they just ordered you around by 'you.' 

She stroked your cheek while looking at you critically. “Well, child, we shall call you…[y/n]. You are now under my care.” 

You nodded, a smile on your face as you just persisted in your nibbling on the cracker. With a filled mouth, you asked the woman, "What shall I call you?"

“You may call me Fuyuka or mother, perhaps." You smiled with closed eyes at the woman while you kicked your leg off the chair. 

“Ok, Mom!" Your mother continued to caress your face while smiling down at you.

Later on, the servant dropped the clothes off. The robe was extremely comforting. It had a silky texture that made your body feel smooth and luxurious. 

After that, the servant came back with a plate of wheat noodles paired with duck. On the side was more of that yummy fruit from before. You ran to the table and began grabbing the food with your hands to eat. 

Your mother came up next to you and struck your hands with her folded fan. “You will learn table manners! That is not the way for you to eat.” 

And from that day on, she took care of you like you were born from her. You’d learned later on that she was infertile and unable to bear children, so her finding you was like a saving grace. 

Your mother was quite wealthy. She owned multiple businesses & buildings, the main one being the brothel where you resided growing up. 

She gave you a high-class education with the best tutors. You grew up to be a business-savvy young woman. You also gained her keen characteristic of sass, although you were a lot more polite than she was. 

Mother was blunt and strict, especially when it came to business. She even taught you how to run your own. But you always knew business wasn’t your calling. You found your passion one day when you were dropping off some documents to one of your mother's businesses. 

She ran an apothecary shop a few blocks from the brothel. Of course, she was never there, but she employed everyone and ensured the stock. 

When your 10-year-old self went into the shop, it was empty, with the apothecary nowhere to be found. So while waiting, you took it upon yourself to look at some of the herbs… and maybe a few of the books… and maybe try to make something. 

When the older apothecary walked in with his cane, you were grinding some mint leaves to make a tea for liver support! 

“You must be Fuyuka’s child, she told me I’d be expecting you.” 

You turned around shyly, realizing you’d been caught doing what you shouldn’t have. “I'm sorry, sir! I shouldn’t have touched any of your stuff. I am deeply sorry!” 

You pleaded with the man while he just slowly laughed at you. You just stood there looking at the gentleman, wondering how he’d react. 

What you didn’t expect was for him to come up next to you and guide you into using a pestle and mortar. “Grind in a more circular motion, it’ll help quicken the process.” 

The old man looked into some jars behind you, and you continued to grind the leaves. His tip surprisingly worked well. 

He gathered some other ingredients for tea making. He’d taught you how to make 5 different variants of liver support tea that day. You swung your bag on your shoulder and walked away gleefully. 

When you arrived home, you’d made your mother and some of the courtesans sample every single tea, to which they obliged. Your mother did notice your very ambitious connection to the art of medicine making. 

She surprised you on your 11th birthday with a little shack an hour away, solely meant for growing herbs as you wished. The little shack was turned into renovated housing by age 15. Since you spent such a prolonged time growing herbs, your mother figured it was never too early for you to move in. She has been fantastic at making sure you are an independent young woman. 

The man at the apothecary had taught you everything you needed to know about medicines, medical situations, surgery, herbs, teas, and other important facts. When you turned 16, your teacher had died. While doing an autopsy, you confirmed that he had passed peacefully in his sleep from cardiac arrest, which gave you some solace. 

From that day on, your mother allowed you to take over as the general apothecary. Most people were shocked, but being extremely smart helped you a lot. Despite the lack of experience, you were a comparable, and maybe even a better, apothecary than your teacher was. 

You watered and checked on the herbs in your garden before getting ready to walk to the city. You took some plants you were low on so you could restock for the week. 

On the counter were leftovers of rice and trout that you had made the night before. You decided to eat it for some energy before beginning your walk. 

You then packed your bag with water, some tea for your mother, and herbs. You left, making sure to say goodbye to your house as per usual. 

The walk was long, but it was extremely scenic. Also quite good for picking up herbs and plants on the way. You managed to find some mugwort on your way there. 

You always wondered to yourself why some people didn’t want to enjoy the beauty of nature. Maybe if people weren’t so enthralled with things like vanity, they could find more value in what's natural rather than fake. 

An hour later, you arrived at your mother's house. You greeted some of the courtesans as per usual before heading upstairs. 

Your mother was sitting in her chair, drinking some tea while brushing out one of the younger servants' hair. She found that in her free time, she was quite good at styling hair. 

“Hello, my child.” You walked over to her and gave her a polite kiss on her cheek. “Morning, Mother." 

You pulled the tea out of your bag and left it on her vanity table. “Dried peach, monkfruit & goji berry tea. It's a new flavor I created.” She picked up the bag to get a whiff of the aroma from the tea. Her face relayed satisfaction. 

She caressed your cheek as always. “What shall I do with you, my gem? I hope no terrible man swoops you up, but of course, you're too smart to make such a foolish decision.” 

You smiled at her, moving your arms to engulf her in your embrace. “I shall be on my way, Mother. I have to open the shop for the day.” She bid you goodbye, and you started your walk to the shop. 

When you got in, you made sure to restock all herbs as well as extra ingredients you’d picked up along the way. You readied the prescriptions and typical medicines for the day. 

It was the middle of the day, and you’d already sold plenty of things. Over 100 people had already come in, but the rush had died down. Still, your tiredness persisted. You were just one girl, after all. 

You were reading a book when you noticed hushed whispers from the street beginning to bustle. People cleared the roads and opened a path, but what for? 

An ox-drawn carriage appeared in front of your shop. The carriage was large and decorated with gold and unique artistic moldings. The carriage must have carried those of extremely high status. 

2 women stepped out of the carriages and began walking toward you. Soldiers followed directly behind them. By their appearance, they must've been concubines, probably of imperial or honorable rank. 

You bowed down to the two women as an honorific. Wouldn’t want to get your head chopped off by Ryomen Sukuna. 

From what you heard about the man, he was quite an asshole. Slaughtering enemy villages, killing servants for small mistakes, and drafting men from his villages without even a care for their wives & daughters. Overall, he was a war criminal who deserved to burn in the lowest pits of hell for his terribly immoral acts. But of course, you'd never let your political ideas be known! You were just a 20-year-old girl who really cared about what you thought. For who knows how he’d torture you for ‘treasonous ideals.'  

One cocubine with long, blonde hair ran up to you and immediately grabbed your hands. The other with brown hair panicked as she ran after the woman, holding her back slightly. 

"Oh, how pleased I am to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you from servants and my counterparts. You are the most educated young lady, aren't you? Do you know what people call you? The queen of your craft—oh, I've never heard of young women of your age being so skilled. I wish I could be more like you—” 

Your face immediately warmed from the attention you received. The blonde woman was quite…energetic, to say the least. It overwhelmed you a little. You were used to calmness.

The woman with the brown hair slapped the girl lightly to cease her rambling. She smiled at you with an adorable closed-eye expression. “Hello, I'm Furi, and this is Hiina.” She pointed to the blonde woman who waved at you softly. 

“Pleased to meet you, Lady Furi and Lady Hiina.” You bowed again out of respect. 

“No need for such formalities. Hiina and I both know your name since we’ve heard so much. I bet we should just cut to the chase here. May we speak with you privately?” You nodded and led them to a more secluded area in the back. 

You prepared some dacha for them both and brought it to the table with block sugar. 

They both sipped the tea, and their faces were elated. “Furi! Furi! This is the best tea I've ever had!” 

Furi covered her face politely and giggled. “I suppose it is extremely good, Hiina.” Furi rested her hand on Hiina's lap softly, as if she meant to calm her down. 

Furi cleared her throat to gather attention. “We needed to come to quite an experienced apothecary. One of the ladies in waiting recommended you. See, we have quite the complex problem.” Furi whispered. 

This had to be a most critical issue if they, women, couldn’t even speak about the issues in front of their guards. Furi hesitated to speak, looking down as she fidgeted with her hands. “I cannot say it.” 

Spontaneously, Hiina screamed in a whisper. “Lord Sukuna's mass arises too frequently,& it becomes an issue for everyone! He is filled with anger and often begins to take it out on everyone! Sometimes even Uraume. It is terrible—” As Hiina spoke more, her voice began to rise to a higher volume. 

Furi slapped her hand across the woman's face to stop her rambling yet again. “Hinna!” The girl just whimpered as she felt the hand hit her face. 

You just sat in your chair, witnessing the two women arguing. You cut them off with the big issues that lingered in your head. “Excuse my language, but I thought the job of concubines was to ease the pleasure that he feels.” 

The two women paused as Furi cleared her throat. “As you’ve heard, Lord Sukuna can be quite…difficult, per se. Basically, he refuses to let any of his concubines please him. There are only 20 of us, 4 of whom are ranked in order of importance. I and Hiina being the top two.”

All this did was further your confusion. Hinna took a sip of her tea and slammed the china down in irritation. “He hates us all. It's not like any of us want to please him anyway. He already is terrifying enough. Imagine how much more scared we were when he showed us his two cocks!” The girl whimpered again in fear. 

“So do you guys know exactly why his, uhm… things are always erect?” The women both shook their heads side to side. 

“How often?” 

“Every day, all day. Even if he touches himself," said Furi. Your eyes popped open. That's highly concerning.

“Even the doctors can’t help,” Hinna whispered with her hand next to her mouth. 

“I am not sure what exactly the problem is, but I hypothesize that his testosterone is too high. I'll curate a blend of herbs and plants that will help lower the amount in his system. He may have to take it multiple times a day to decrease the issues. I’ll try working on a more frequent cure after I see how he reacts to the teas. I’ll get it made now.” 

You immediately got up to start curating the blend. You planned to make a spearmint-green tea blend with some licorice root. 3 minutes later, and it was done. 

You handed the women the tea, and they immediately rushed out, throwing coins on the table.  They must’ve been in quite a hurry.

“Thank you!” as the carriage moves on. 

Three days later. 

You heard the familiar clop of the ox's feet near you. You were trying a new perfume recipe, merging flowers, herbs, and cloves with a base of beeswax.

You added ground cloves with green tea and orchids. The aroma appeared to be quite delightful. Maybe even something you’d wear. 

It wasn’t until you turned around that you noticed the two women looming over your back. Startled, you scrambled to the floor. 

Furi gasped and moved to help you off the floor. “Oh my, we didn’t mean to startle you. We apologize.” Hinna just giggled lightly next to her before murmuring, 'Sorry.' 

Hinna leaned her face closer to the pot and just sniffed the air. “This smells amazing…is it perfume?" 

You nodded and looked down at the curious girl. “Yes, my lady. It's a new blend I came up with. How’d you know?” 

“My family runs a perfume business 3 hours away from here. Would you mind if I purchased a sample? You nodded and moved to get a jar. 

“Sure. But you’ll have to wait till it solidifies to use it.” The girl mmmhmed and pulled out some coins for you. 

As you packed the perfume, you had the two women sit down at a nearby table while they waited. A new, curious tea combination awaited them.

After packing, you’d settled down at the table with them. “So, what brings you back?” Furi pressed her lips together before clearing her throat as usual. Gosh, she must really need the damned tea. 

“Good news: the tea worked. His rampant rages have subsided…but…he drank all the tea in one day. The next day, it was back. We all fear he needs something stronger.” Kuri clasped her hands together, her face showing defeat. 

Hinna just silently nodded along before she explained the rest of the situation. “He’d questioned us mercilessly on where the tea was from, and we tried not to tell him, but his advisor, Uraume, tracked where our carriage had gone. The guards ended up splurging on things for you.” 

Kuri had moved closer to you and rested her hand on your knee. You looked up to her slowly as she blurted out, "His majesty requests your presence at the palace!” 

You looked at the girl and sighed. “Ok, that's not as bad as I expected.” The two women looked back and forth at each other, confused. 

“You’re not scared?” You shook your head. A big man with fluffy hair and four arms didn’t sound very intimidating to you. If anything, he reminded you of a butterfly, a very cruel one, though. 

“Well, we’ll let you get ready to close shop. We will be back here tomorrow at 10 in the morning, sharp. Please be on time, His Majesty is most particular about it.” The two women stood up and scurried out hurriedly as before.

What have you gotten yourself into? 

The next day

You walked upstairs to your mother's room and knocked on her door before sliding it open.

“My child!” She walked over to the room to greet you. Kisses and hugs as always. She adopted that from a French envoy who visits the brothel once a year. 

You hugged her back, finding comfort in her embrace. “Hello, Mother. I'm in quite a hurry. Sit down, won't you?" 

“Oh. Have you come down with some sickness?” She furrowed her eyebrows and pressed her palm to your head.

You grabbed her hand and led her to sit down. She picked up her glass of water and took a brisk sip. “I am fine, Mother. Well, kind of. I’ve been summoned to the palace by Lord Sukuna.” 

Your mother never shrieked so hard in her life. It was so loud that the majority of the first floor managed to spark some panic. She dropped the glass of water and fell to the floor. Her kimono was left slightly damp from the iced water. 

“MY CHILD! What on earth could that brutish man want with my innocent daughter? What have you gotten yourself into this time? Hot tears started to spill down her cheek. 

“Mother—” 

She clawed at the wooden floor, attempting to grip absolutely nothing. “Will I ever even see you again? You know he eats people like us? What if he makes you into a stew?” 

“Mother, please, the servants are watching—” 

The dramatic woman crawled onto her back. “I’d managed to get you out of that terrible selection process! Oh, how much effort it took. All that just for him to swoop up your beautiful innocence at a request.” She wailed as if she were a toddler. 

“Mother! I am being summoned because I made him medicine, not because he wants me as a cocubine.” She slowly rose from the floor with a quiet 'oh.'

She smoothed out her kimono and sat down, looking to regain her composure. She shot watchful eyes at the servants, and they immediately straightened their heads. “Well, in that case, be safe, and get back to me in one piece, daughter.” She snapped her fingers for tea, whispering a quiet ‘thank you’ to the servant. 

You got up and hugged her, making sure to place an extra kiss on her forehead. You ran off to the building with swiftness, making sure you weren't too late. 

You got there fully on time as the guards helped you into the carriage. Well, what next?

The carriage came to a stop after you reached deep into the inside area of the palace. You stepped out to be greeted by an androgynous figure with white and red hair. You bow as always. 

“Follow me," is all they say before turning around and leading you to an ornate building. “I am Uraume," is all they said after. They're the ones who got you dragged into this whole situation. Trust that they’ll reap what they sow. 

After a few minutes of confusing corridors and multiple sliding doors. You stop at a door bigger than all the others. You assumed this is where he was. Uraume just turned back to you with the same stoic expression. “Good luck.” They slid the door open and led you in. 

You walked in to see the miserable man. He was bigger than you expected, 7 feet tall at least. His fluffy pink hair was slightly disheveled, signaling his distress. His lower two arms rested near his sides. One of his upper arms held his face up with a fist while the other rested on the arm of his chair. 

His body was sculpted perfectly, his muscles were defined and carved smoothly. His arms, face, and body had neat jet-black markings all over. The hakama lay loosely and low around his waist. As you looked further down, his two cocks were obviously bulging against his pants with two thick, long silhouettes. 

His two piercing blood-red eyes found you walking toward him. His eyes lazily followed your body. 

You walked in and immediately folded into a symmetrical bow. You’d hold the stance until the man told you to do otherwise. “My lord.” 

“Stand straight.” You stood up immediately, your hands clasped in front of you. 

“You know what you're here for, yes?” You pursed your lips, shaking your head slowly. “Well, not exactly.” 

He slapped his fingertips along his forehead, looking down with dismay. "Foolish, stupid humans.” Big, brutish monster. 

“You are here to solve the issue with my cocks. That's all, make a cure and leave. In return, I spare your life.” Great, my time is being used to solve his damn penile issues. 

“You will have your private quarter and access to anything you need to help me.” You nodded quietly. The two of you stood in silence for a brief second. 

“What are you still standing here for, you idiot? Move along.” You exited the room, eager to get away from the overly hormonal man. 

You had one of the guards walk you to the quarters of Lady Hanni’s quarters. As you expected, Kuri was already there, attached to her side. 

You bowed to the women and then proceeded to sit down. There were some questions you had. "Hello, my ladies, I'm pleased to see you.” 

The two women smiled while drinking their tea. “Hanni and I are glad to see you. How have you been acclimating to the palace?” 

Hanni nodded in agreement, snuggling her head onto Kuris's shoulder. “I am doing quite well, thank you. I actually came because I have a few questions.” 

Kuri set her tea down and gave you that same usual closed-eye smile. "I'm glad we can help, ask away, my dear.” 

“Why is Lord Sukuna reluctant to have bed with any of his cocubines?” The two women's bodies immediately ceased movement. Their faces held visibly shocked expressions. You even heard the guards & ladies-in-waiting gasp behind you. 

Kuri sent a piercing glare at the ladies in waiting as well as the guards, prompting them to usher them out of the room quickly. 

Kuri cleared her throat and set her teacup down. “Well—it is quite the complicated situation.” Hanni raised her head from Kuris's shoulder. She was about to blow.

Words began to fly out of Hannis's mouth quicker than 24 fps. “No, it is not. Lord Sukuna really likes to be dominated in bed by women, and we're all too scared of him to even come close to him, so typically, he's left irritated and unfulfilled. His cock is also too large inside. What if he breaks us? I tried t—” 

Kuri’s striking hand flew down on Hannis's head, stopping her rambling speech. “Hanni, must you always speak out of bounds?” 

The girl rubbed her head soothingly while Kuris's face grew red and angry. “But, yes, Hanni’s words are true. He hates it when women tremble in fear. Sometimes I wonder how most people even fear him. He’s just a big toddler. Throwing a tantrum because women won't yell at him.” The woman ‘tsked’ and persisted in drinking her tea. 

You finally believe you came up with the correct cure. After days of trial and error, you noticed that when the concentration of spearmint was heightened, along with licorice root. The results became more long-lasting. You figured white peony would also have stronger results due to its ability to convert testosterone to estrogen. 

You hummed happily as you walked to the man's quarters. You’d finally be able to go home to your little cottage and your mom and your shop! 

You opened the door and bowed as usual before preparing the man's tea with the mix of leaves. He watched your bustling body move in disdain. His red eyes were focused enough to burn a hole into you. 

Any more movement from your disobedient ass and maybe he’d stick his c— 

You walked up to the man with the tea and forced him to drink it. Ten seconds later, he was writhing in pain in the chair. The man began to groan and squirm uncomfortably. 

“You bitch. What have you done to poison me, you foul temptress?" You looked down at his pants to see his cocks throbbing erratically in his pants. It was bulging and visibly twitching, even while covered. 

“I beg your pardon, my lord, but I have done absolutely nothing.” 

He rose from his chair. He was even struggling to walk. “You must've done something, my cock is inflating in size. It pains me.” All the help you've given him, sacrificing your business for what? 

"Respectfully, my lord, I have not done anything but give you a tea to decrease your male hormones.” 

He began to grip the arm of the chair so harshly that the wood cracked. “My hormones are fine. Maybe it's your incompetence that cannot solve my issues.” 

You crossed your arms while the disgust on your face grew. "You're supposed to be the most powerful being on earth, yet you cannot solve your own bodily issues.” 

“I am the most powerful being, so that means I have the power to summon you at a snap so that you can solve my bodily issues. So solve my issue this instant.” The goosebumps on your body rose while your patience lowered. 

Maybe if he’d stop being such a scared bitch, he’d resolve his issues. 

“I fear I may no longer be able to assist you, my lord. Maybe if you’d use one of your concubines to solve your issues, we wouldn't even be here! Respectfully, my lord.” 

He swung the table between you two with his foot against the wall in pure rage. “I do not desire to fuck any of those useless women. I will not waste my time on dotish human beings.”

You widened your eyes in shock. The man was a walking contradiction. “Useless? Yet you beg for women to degrade you. You desire to be degraded, yet you're trying to do it to me now.” 

“I have roamed this earth for years. I have never begged for anyone's presence." His fist balled in rage, and his body grew sweaty and red. 

You were not afraid of him, you stepped closer to him, defying all mannerly principles you’d been taught as a child. “Then why are you begging for my presence like a dog in heat?" 

The man's facial expression went soft, and all four of his eyes focused solely on you. “I shall have you beheaded for your insolence.” 

“No, you won't. Your desire for my body is stronger than any other, and I can practically smell it on you. If you want my help with your issues, you will need to solve the request on my behalf as well.” 

Sukuna breathed out so hard, you’d think steam would flow out of his nostrils. “You're not worth begging for.” 

You turned around on your heel and began to stomp off. You are no man's peace. “Stop walking.” 

“No.” His selfish pleas could never work. 

“Be still at once, woman.” His loud feet began to smack the ground as he walked toward you. 

You reached to open the door, but his tall stature loomed over your back. “If you will not, beg. I will not entertain your foolish words. My mother raised me to fear no man.” You pointed your finger at his chest, pushing a dent into his hardened chest. “You do not scare me, Sukuna.” 

“I am—I, I’m sorry,” he whispered, looking at the floor. For the first time, you’d seen the man avoid eye contact. 

His body went fully lax as you moved to reach your arm atop his shoulder. You pushed his big body down slowly as he fell to his knees. He grinds upon your foot needfully to try to relieve just a little bit of the agonizing desire he felt. 

“Good boy.” You unwrapped your kimonos, letting them fall to the ground slowly. He viciously threw it to the side of the room. He proceeded to rip your undergarments in half, making them fall to the ground. 

You slapped the man across his face. Printing a red handprint on his face. “I did not permit you to rip my clothes. You will make me a new one.” 

He nodded and ran his hand down your soft thigh. “I’ll get you a new one. I am so, so sorry.” 

You ran your hand through his hair, pulling his head back softly so all he saw was your torso and up. 

You pushed his head down so that his head sat in front of your damp underwear. “You are not permitted to touch me until I tell you to. You crazed beast.” 

He nudged his nose closer to your pussy. You could hear his muffled sniffs as his hands bore crescent-shaped marks into your thighs. He exerted so little force yet managed to pull you so much closer to him. 

You pulled his hair tighter. “I said, Do not touch me. You have to earn the privilege, my lord.” He silently 'mmm'-ed as he lowered his hands down your legs slowly. 

You turned around and walked toward his bed slowly. You turned around to see the man crawling toward you on his hands and knees before you crawled onto the bed yourself. 

You lie back and spread your legs open. You curled your fingers seductively, telling him, “Are you hungry?” 

He pounced onto the bed like the beast he was. He eyed you like you were his prey, little did he know it was the other way around. 

“May I devour you like you’re my last meal? Please.” Sukuna said pleadingly. His head lay between your thighs while he gazed at your sopping wet pussy. 

“I’m not sure, you haven’t done a good job at listening to me. You yell and belittle me like I'm a mere servant.” 

Sukuna's breath grew untimely and erratic, he was beginning to spiral without touching you. “I said sorry. I’ll be good, I swear to it. You can use me, I'll be your servant.” 

You raised your head to get a good view of the pathetically desperate man. You knew the throbbing of his cock was bothering him, he’d do anything just to even lick you. “You shall refer to me as ‘my lady.' From this moment on, you’ll listen to every demand I give you. If you do not, it will result in punishment. Ok?” 

"Yes, my lady.” Sukuna's hands began to latch onto the silk covers. You heard small tears around you, he was becoming too angsty. 

“You may eat me.” He didn’t even hesitate before he dived his face into your wetness. His tongue extended and swirled around your sensitive clit. 

He sucked on and mauled the bundle of nerves like he’d been starving for days. His left pair of arms pulled you closer to his face as your body squirmed in a circle. "You're doing so good..." 

He was so focused, he didn't even have time to respond to you. Suddenly, you felt something extremely foreign to you. 

It felt like he had two tongues???  

One of them massaged each side of your clit and up and down while you felt his sharp teeth latch onto your mound. Both of your legs tensed up, and it felt like they’d begin trembling any second now. 

You heard him moaning and whimpering down below as he slowly writhed against the bed.

Gruntled sounds exited your mouth while one of his tongues made its way slowly down from your clit into your cunt. The other one stayed persistently lapping circles around your clit.

The tongue was so long that he managed to elicit a choked moan from you just by inserting it inside. The muscle swirled around and curled itself in multiple directions, all while the other tongue flicked your clit ruthlessly.

"S-Sukuna… you're such a good boy…” You heard a deep grumble come from between your legs. It seems like your words taunted him…he sped up 3 times his previous speed before. It seems like praise was his golden buzzer. 

Your eye twitched, and you grabbed his hair tighter. His finger gripped you harder. He’d surely be on his way to piercing your skin. 

You felt yourself reaching your climax. Your cream, sweet and tangy, filled his mouth to his delight. His tongue lapped up the substance into his mouth and moved it around before spitting it back into your cunt. He wasn't done. 

Sukuna's desperate grip tightened for the third time. He used one arm from each side to force your knees to your head. He truly wanted to test your flexibility.

Sukuna plunged two fingers into your cunt as you rolled your hips into him. He scissor-curled his fingers inside of you in a steady pattern. All while worshiping your clit with his two tongues. 

He pulled his head up for a second while he continued to finger your pussy. “Am I doing well, my lady?” 

You nodded while pushing your head back deeper into your cunt. “Yes, s’good. But did I tell you to stop eating after I so graciously gave you the rare privilege?” 

You heard his muffled 'mmm-mmm' as he shook his head. I know that's right. 

You murmured, 'Insolent man—’ under your breath until his fingers became quicker and sloppier. The pressure that was built up was familiar & intense. 

Every deep breath you let out delayed your orgasm, but at the speed he was going, he managed to outpace your choked breaths. 

It wasn't long until the psychedelic sensation began to spread throughout your body. Your legs trembled desperately. 

Sukuna's fingers bored into you, leaving 10 piercing holes in your skin. Blood slowly beaded at the points. 

You creamed all over his fingers, coating them with a warm, creamy white. Still, he pushed until you told him to stop. 

You suddenly felt the need to pee as you closed your thighs around his head. The blood rushed to your face as your body got more restless. 

“Ngh, mmm…Sukuna!” 

Your squirt covered his face as he rubbed your clit ferociously. He dived back in and drank every drop of your juices. 

You lie back on the bed with your head comfortably on the pillow. 

“I think I did, exquisitely, my lady.” You sat up, your arms supporting your back. 

“You did very well, Sukuna.” Your hand reached for his chin and clawed it. “But did I tell you to draw blood? NO!” 

Your hand bolted as you moved to backhand him. The big beast just sat on his knees and whimpered like a bitch before you. “M’sorry, my lady.”

He moved his hands to sit patiently on your thighs. His head just faced the floor with guilt. “Lick all of the blood before it makes a mess on the sheets, you damned brat.” 

He crawled onto the bed and began to lick the blood from your wounds. He was careful not to suck blood anymore from off the surface. Just soft little kitten licks. 

When he was done, he lay his head onto your thighs as he continued to rut against the sheets. You’d almost forgotten his cock was inconsolable in its hardness. 

You stroked his head softly. “You’ve been a good boy, Sukuna. How about you let your lady help with your issue?” 

He looked up at you with big puppy-dog eyes. He was so needy it was pathetic. He killed people for fun, and look where he is now. 

You scootched back on the bed before opening your legs for him. “Sit between my legs, dear,” and he listened as he was taught. 

You released his cock from his undergarments. The thick leg sprained. It was so red and irritated. His throbbing made the poles spatter like a volcano. Bits of precum flew out and slid down his cock. 

“Someone looks like he needs to cum…” You grabbed his balls and massaged them to feel how firm, tight, and warm they’d become. His balls were almost rock hard. 

You moved your hand to your cunt to gather some of the slick, then spat in your hands just to be sure you were lubricated enough for both of his cocks. 

You let the substance drip from your fingers slowly onto his cock, making him twitch and whimper. 

One of your hands moves to spread the substance slowly all over his cock. You heard his breath in your ear become shallow and needy. 

You pulled your hand back, then used two fingers to swirl around the precum coming out of his cock. 

“M-my l-lady, please…” Sukuna had become a stuttering mess, slurring and breaking his sentences. 

“Please, what?” He rutted his hips up, pushing his cock into your fingers. “Rub my cock, please?” 

An evil grin appeared across your face. “You are under absolutely no obligation to make demands of me. I am in charge. Not you.” 

You slapped both of his cocks down so hard they hit his thighs. Pained moans left his throat as the stinging sensation spread through his cocks. 

"N-ngh, I'm sorry. So sorry. Won't do it again.” You jerked one of them soothingly, just as a little reward for apologizing. “You will have to beg if you want to come. Ok, my darling?” 

He nodded up and down frantically, but you wanted more. “Words.”

“Y-yes,” he panted out. 

“Beg.” 

You finger-teased the side of his cock, tracing his electric-blue veins up and down. “I’ll be a really good boy. I’ll be courteous. I’ll worship you and give you what you want. Please.” 

You laughed at his pathetic pleas. “Will you stop giving the concubines a hard time?” You pinched the tip of his cock, making pre-cum spurt out. 

“N-ngh, mmm. Of course, my lady. Anything for you, please. I’d do anything.” You licked his ear, slowly, making his face flush a deep red. 

You took each of your hands and began to rub each of his cocks. Your finger rubbed over his tips to spread the creamy, clear-white substance all over. 

His hips moved in various directions and rubbed all of your hands. His thrusts were brutal and sloppy, typically making his cocks glide off your hands. 

He leaned his head back onto your shoulder so that you could see his face. His eyes were tired and low, staring directly into yours. 

You moved your lips toward his to embrace him in a sloppy kiss. Your tongue dominated his as he moved weakly through your mouth. Your tongue flicked against his in what felt like a battle. You pulled back and spit into his mouth before going back to kissing. 

Your tongue ran over his lips before he moved in closer to melt into yours. Your lips moved down his neck, creating dark red marks all over. 

You began to move your hands in twisting motions as you proceeded to jerk him off harder and harder. His moans began to build up in volume. He was finally going to cum.

“My l–l lady." 

“Not yet.” Your hands sped up, as did the twitching of his cock. 

“P-please.” You kept refuting his pleas. 

“Not until I say so.” His moans filled your ears like a symphony. 

“U-ugh.” Your hands tightened around his cock. 

“You can cum now, pathetic man.”

White long spurts of cum fell over your hands and his thighs as you continued to jerk his cock. The hot spurts erupted out of him for what felt like an eternity. The more he came, the more his body shook, and the farther the cum sprayed. 

By the time he was done, his body was weakened and tired. Loads upon loads of cum covered your hands to your delight. You licked all of it as if it were a treat.

You swallowed most of it but made sure to leave some for when you sloppily kissed him. You kissed the man for about another 10 minutes before he began to doze off. 

“Y’actually did it…” he whispered.

“Did what?” 

“My cock hasn’t gotten hard again…” 

Oh yeah, that's why you’re here. 

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Fandom: Hazbin Hotel. Pairing: human!married!Reader x Alastor's brother husband x human!Alastor. Rating: explicit. Summary: you've been married to your husband, Alastor's brother, for many years. You want only one thing: to have a child. Despite repeated attempts, you've yet to succeed. The alternatives are too expensive. So, one night, wallowing in desperation, you ask Alastor for help...

🔞 Warnings: cheating, infidelity, brother-in-law relationship, secret sexual encounter, breeding/impregnation themes, creampie/insemination, moral conflict & betrayal, angst-heavy romance, domestic drama.

│ you’re here │ next (cumming soon...)

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It was a night like any other. Your husband was at work, working the night shift. Just before going out, you took a pregnancy test together and, once again, the result was negative. That night was raining and you couldn’t sleep. It seemed as though the bad weather mirrored your emotions... you were so sad, so depressed. Life had lost its color and meaning. All because... you wanted a child. You and your husband, too. You longed for one. Yet it never came...

Never.

You were tired. Worse still, you felt bad, you felt guilty. What kind of woman were you, unable to give your husband a child—the man you loved and had married to spend your life with? Guilt was poisoning your mind and body. The more you wore yourself down, the more your body rebelled against you. You felt frustrated. Nights with your husband had become a source of torture and unhappiness, nothing more than a mechanical, routine act, without love, without passion.

“Do what you have to do,” in the hope that a child would grow in your womb. But that desire withered inside you, with you. But you loved your husband, so you pulled yourself together, trying to move on, trying not to think about it... You married him because you loved him. You grew up together. You spent your childhood together. You matured together, faced many challenges together. You loved him and he loved you. There was no doubt about it. Everyone saw, on the surface, your happy love story. Everyone congratulated you and saw how much you were in love. Everyone, except one: your husband’s brother.

Alastor.

He knew...

You felt empty, broken, devastated. Your husband, however, stayed by your side. He comforted you. He worried about you. He stroked your hair and held your face close to his shoulder, whispering words of comfort every time you took the test and the result was negative. This only increased your self-hatred. Despair was a vice around your bleeding heart, shattered into a thousand pieces for what you had always dreamed of as a child. And in fact... the hum of the dishwasher working was the only sound in the kitchen that night. The words had lost meaning, they no longer interested you. You stood at the sink, staring at the soapy water circling in the drain, feeling the emptiness swirl inside you too.

“You said you’d be okay, that you wouldn’t made an obsession of it,” your brother-in-law’s voice came from behind you, soft and careful. You turned. He was leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. His dark, curly hair was neat, his usual button-down shirt crisp, but his eyes held a gentle worry you’d seen too often lately.

“I’m…” you started, the words cracking like weak breadsticks. “I told your brother… I told him the test results. Negative... again.”

His brow furrowed. “He…”

“He just hugged me. Said it was okay. Said we’d keep trying,” you wiped your hands on a towel. “It’s not okay. My body… it doesn’t work. I will never be… mother…” your throat burned; tears choked in your windpipe, not wanting to show them to your brother-in-law. You walked past him into the living room, without even giving him a glance. Your gaze was empty, just like your body, which was walking by inertia. The whole house felt silent, empty. A cemetery of your dreams... You’d often imagined your children’s laughter filling the house, imagining the warmth, the parties, holding them in your arms… with their little feet and their little hands. Years had passed. And that dream seemed like a nightmare now, slowly fading you away, day after day... Time ticked by. You were approaching 35… what would become of you? Would this sadness ever go away? Or would it follow you throughout your life, driving you to madness? Would you ever really get used to it? Would you ever be yourself again? The smiling girl, enthusiastic about life, dreamer. You missed that you, that versione of yourself.

Alastor followed you into the antechamber and into the corridor, shadowing you into the living room. He sat on the armchair opposite you, his hands resting on his knees. You slumped onto the hard, floral-patterned two-seater sofa, pulling a throw pillow against your stomach, a pathetic mimicry of the fullness you craved.

“He’s devastated,” you whispered, not looking at Alastor. “He doesn’t show it, but he is. He wants a family so much. And I… and I can’t make his 10-year-old dream come true.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said, his voice firm but quiet.

“It is!” The words burst out. “Every month, it’s just… the same story! And disappointment! And this gaping hole where a child should be!!! I can’t… I can’t give him what he wants! What we want...” You pressed the pillow harder against your belly, hoping that wishing for it badly would make it real; hoping that that pillow, deceptively, could be something else. Alastor watched you, his expression unreadable. His eyes were fixed on your face as he gestured with his hands, though his movements betrayed no emotion. Then, his gaze fell on the pillow you were clutching in your lap. You looked up, staring back at him. He was very different from his brother. His brother had light colors, light eyes, Alastor was darker despite sharing the same parents. But, in many ways, he was the more composed. Calmer. More observant. He’d been living with you both for some years now, after his own apartment lease fell through. He was part of the family you couldn’t build and you all agreed on that. The silence stretched. The dishwasher finished its cycle, leaving a deeper quiet.

“There are… options,” Alastor offered, hesitantly. He didn’t mean to make you angry, just to give you hope. “Donors. Procedures,” his eyes fixed on yours, unblinking. His intense gaze pinned you to the couch.

“We looked into it,” you sighed, the exhaustion bone-deep. “The cost… it’s astronomical. Our salaries don’t cover expenses. Not now. Maybe not ever...” you looked at him. His eyes were dark, earnest.

Another pause. You could hear the clock ticking on the wall. And then… the idea made its way, insidious and brutal, into your mind.

“What if…” you began, then stopped. The idea had been gnawing at you for weeks, a desperate, ugly thought. You’d shoved it down, buried it in a hidden corner of your darkest thoughts. But tonight, with your husband at work for his late shift, with the quiet house pressing in, it had raisen up in your thoughts, burning on the tip of your tongue. You had clung to everything, and that hope refused to die...

“What if... we are not made to conceive together?”

Alastor leaned forward slightly. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve done all the tests, neither of us is infertile,” you swallowed, your throat tight. “Maybe is just… incompatibility?” Alastor’s gaze didn’t waver, it only got more intense.

“Maybe the problem is… something between us. Something that just… doesn’t work.” You let the pillow drop. Your hands clenched in your lap.

“What if… what if with someone else… it would work?” Your eyes rested on his, serious, questioning. Alastor’s face went still. Very still. The understanding dawned in his eyes, slow and dreadful. He didn’t speak, but he got your hint.

Oh, shit, he got it. You were asking him to get you pregnant.

Or at least, to try it…

He raised a hand, frowning and adjusting his glasses on his nose. You forced yourself to continue, the shame heating your cheeks.

“You… you’re his brother. You’re… our family. The genes would be close. It would still be… his family’s blood. It would still be… his child, in a way.”

“Do you understand the gravity of what you’re asking me?” His expression changed to disgust, not at you, but at the idea. His tone was sour.

“I’m not asking,” you answered, tears stinging like shards of glass in your eyes and throat, “I’m begging you,” you corrected, your voice trembling. “I’m falling apart, Alastor. Even your brother is falling apart, and he’s hiding it for me. I see it in his eyes. The hope is dying. I need… I’m slowly dying. Please, give me a chance. It’s better than doing it with a stranger or a sperm donor who looks nothing like your brother. I want a child of my own. Please...”

He stood up abruptly, walking to the window behind him. He looked out into the dark backyard, looking at the rain, his back to you.

“It’s cheatig,” he spat in disgust, accusatory, without turning. “Do you really want to cheat on my brother with me?” He was looking at you from the reflection in the glass, without you noticing.

“I know, but... I have to try,” you admitted, playing nervously with your fingers in your lap, looking at them. “He won’t know. It would be… just… just for… for the baby. Nothing else. It’s just… a desperate attempt.”

He turned then, his face a mask of conflicted pain. “You think I could do that? To my brother? To... you? How will you sleep in his bed? How will you look him in the face? How will you look ME in the face? Hm? Have you thought about that? You’d condemn a family to discord!”

“You love him!” You answered raising your voice, standing now too, facing him. “You’re the only one left in the family, you’re everything to him. Put an end to our suffering! Just... a child. A family. With me. It would still be our child. Just… conceived differently.”

The logic was twisted, selfish. You knew it. But desperation had reshaped your morality into something wrong and absurd. Even for you, even for him.

Alastor’s jaw tightened. He looked at you, at your pleading expression, your eyes brimming with unshed tears. He saw the depth of your despair, the cracking foundation of your marriage.

“My brother is at work until midnight,” he said, his voice low; as if saying it quietly made it less real, less of a betrayal.

You nodded. “Yes.”

He looked up at the wall in the entrance room, checking the clock. The muscles in his neck were pronounced, tense. “It’s nine now.”

Another nod. Your heart was pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Was he really accepting? He exhaled, a long, heavy breath. Then he ran a hand through his curls, huffing in disbelief. “If we… do this, it’s only for that... for your happiness.”

“Yes,” you whispered, “just for the baby, our miracle. Nothing will change. He won’t know.”

Alastor repeated the phrase, his tone hollow. “He won’t know.”

Then, he walked past you, toward the hallway.

“Join me in my room,” he said, not looking back.

Your legs felt weak, but you followed him. The walk down the hall to his bedroom was the longest distance you’d ever traveled. Each step was a treason. Your rib cage ached. You even felt a little nauseous. Having sex with your husband’s brother… you were simply disgusted by yourself. But for that baby you so desired, it was worth a try.

Right?

The door to your own bedroom, shared with your husband, was ajar. You looked away, you couldn’t feel worse now… not now that you were so close to getting what you most desired. Alastor opened the mahogany door of his room, moving his head inviting you to come in, following you shortly after and leaving the door wide open. His room was neat, basic: a bed, a desk, a bookshelf. Nothing more, nothing less. The bedspread was a simple dark gray. He didn’t turn on the main light, just the small lamp on his desk, casting a soft, intimate glow that felt natural and… less intimidating. He stood by the bed, looking at you as you moved around the room. His room.

“Are you sure?” he asked, both aware and conscious that from there, there would be no turning back, staining yourselves with a profane secret.

Your mouth was dry. “Yes.”

He didn’t move to undress you. He didn’t move to undress himself. He simply gestured to the bed, to take a stand, to do what you had to do and be done with it.

“Lay down,” he said, raising his hands to his temples to remove his glasses and placing them on his bedside table.

You obeyed, your movements stiff. You were nervous, your stomach churning with anxiety. Your heart was pounding obscenely. You sat on the edge of the mattress, then swung your legs up, lying your head back against the pillows and your rigid body to his mattress. You were still fully clothed with your nightgown, your skirt slightly raised by the force of gravity, which you quickly adjusted out of shame, hiding your bare thighs. He, instead, was still dressed in his shirt and trousers. After watching you lie down, he arranged your long hair on the pillow so that it wouldn’t get crushed under your shoulders. After, he approached the bed, kneeling on the bed between your legs. He didn’t touch you anywhere else. His hands, gentle and careful, went just to your hips. His hands glided lightly under your nightgown, finding the waistband of your panties, rolling it down, and letting them slide down your thighs. Then he slid them down your legs, past your ankles, pulled them off your feet, and let them fall to the floor. His hands were smooth, and they were also warm, pleasant to the touch. Even though it was supposed to be a quick, clinical act, Alastor went slowly. His hands caressed your legs very slowly, savoring the sensation of having you under his touch for the first time ever in your entire life, while his eyes ran over your body, following the movements of his veined hands. Then, he pulled the cover from the bed and draped it over both of you. It covered him from the waist up, and you from the chest down.

A hiding place.

His hands returned to you. One hand rested on your inner thigh, a warm, steady pressure. The other hand… moved on you. You felt his fingers, initially timid, brushing over the bare skin of your thighs, going up your lower belly, under your nightgown. Then they trailed lower, tracing a path you hadn’t felt from anyone but your husband for years. His touch was very gentle, not rougher. It was a brother’s touch. A forbidden touch… His fingertips found your slit. You were dry, tense, clenched tight with anxiety and guilt. He didn’t comment. After all, it wasn’t his right, and he shouldn’t have had any claims either. He just applied a gentle pressure, stroking it. He was preparing you, of course. Helping you. His touch was patient, not rushed. His fingers dipped shallowly, testing. You gasped, your breath coming in short, labored gasps. But it wasn’t pleasure, it was shock. Your husband’s brother was really touching you. Alastor was really touching, with his slender fingers, the inside of your intimacy, your pussy. Nervousness filled you, burning your cheeks red. You covered your lips with your hands, forming fists, and tried everything you could not to look at him and holding back the moans that welled up from your lungs, filled with air.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice muffled by the blanket over his head, brushing against the burning skin of your face. “It won’t work if you’re too nervous.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, his eyes fixed on you as his fingers worked lower. But you couldn’t look at him… otherwise you would have kept wondering and thinking about what he was thinking. And what he was thinking... about you. You had him cornered, forced him to fuck you for a selfish desire: to have a child, because you couldn’t have one with your husband, his brother. Your heart was pounding. You tried to relax. You tilted your head to the side, focusing on the floor. You thought of your husband’s smile when he talked about kids. You thought of the empty room ready for them. You forced your muscles to loosen, to yield. His fingers pushed deeper. One, then two. A slow, stretching intrusion. The wet, yielding sound of your body accepting him. And Alastor... he kept watching your face, your reactions to his fingers pushing inside you and touching spots that should have been forbidden to him. It felt wrong. It was, actually. But you also felt… pleasure, now. A tiny, traitorous flicker of physical response. Your body, starved for hope, reacting to the simple mechanics of stimulation. He moved his fingers inside you, again and again, a gentle in-and-out motion. The sounds were obscene as you get wetter from it, because of him. You bit your lip, refusing to make a sound. It was so hard… and so enjoyable…

After a few minutes, he withdrew his fingers. The wet, empty sensation lingered. He shifted his position on the bed, his knees adjusting on the mattress.

“I’m going to put it in now,” he said, his tone calm, instructional, waiting for you to look him in the face. You turned your head slowly towards him.

“Don’t you need… stimulation? You know, for…” you asked timidly and embarrassed. Alastor pressed his crotch between your thighs, pressing his fully erect cock against your pussy. He didn’t say a word. It was superfluous and clear what he was proving to be saying and it was enough to let you know he was already hard simply because of you, simply because he had been inside you with his tapered fingers. You nodded, shocked, and suddenly you turned your head back toward the floor, jerking it around. Alastor shifted his weight onto one arm, supporting himself while his palm rested on the pillow beside your face. You felt his other hand moving, below, guiding himself. His pants were already unzipped from before, partly because they were too tight for his hard cock, which needed more space. You could feel his trousers rubbing against your thighs, making you shudder. Then, suddenly, the pressure, turgid and firm, at your entrance of his cockhead.

Alastor penetrated you slowly. His hips slowly pressed inside your pussy. Without hurting you. Giving you time to accept his tip, first. The head of his cock, unfamiliar to you in its shape and feel, pushed deeper, stretching as it passed your tight ring of muscle. You stifled a moan, turning it into a choked gasp. He pushed further, inch by inch, filling you completely with it; with him. A long, sliding wet pressure as he seated himself fully inside you. He was bigger than your husband, his brother. Different. The sensation was overwhelming, a total occupation of a space that belonged to someone else and not to him. You trembled beneath him. When he was all the way in up to his balls, he stopped. He didn’t move for a moment, letting you adjust. His body was still under the blanket. You could feel his heat, the solid, muscular presence of him above you. You could smell him, and it was so good. It was distinct from your husband’s smell. Your husband’s scent was familiar, comforting. This was… new. Unknown. Intriguing.

“How are you feeling? Are you okay?” he asked, his voice close to your face with a little hint of concern.

“Yes, we should… do it quickly,” you breathed out.

He nodded. Then he placed his other hand on the pillow to balance his weight. His face pinned yours between his arms on the pillow. Alastor began to move his hips again. His thrusts were gentle. Each withdrawal was slow, a dragging slurp as your wetness clung to him. Each re-entry was a deep, filling thump that jolted your body. The blanket rustled with his movements, the bed creaked as it banged against the wall it was pressing against. The embarrassment of what was happening was eating you alive, so you closed your eyes. You tried to think of your lover. You tried to picture his face. But your mind, treacherous, began to focus on the sensations. At the fullness. On how deep Alastor was. On the careful pace. To his attention for you. Alastor was being sweet, considerate, even in this perverse act. Even if he didn’t want to do it, even if it went against everything he felt for his brother. He wasn’t rough, nor did he act as if he hated you for having almost forced him to commit this betrayal. He was… taking care of you, of your desire. Like a gardener planting a seed. The infidelity burned in your gut, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. But beneath that burn, a physical warmth began to spread. Your muscles relaxed further. Your inner walls, initially resistant, began to cling to him, to pull him deeper on each stroke, making you wetter. A soft, involuntary moan escaped your lips. He heard it but he pretended nothing had happened, continuing to look at you as you narrowed your eyes even more. His rhythm didn’t change, but his next thrust was a little deeper, more harder. A plap of his body meeting yours.

The guilt twisted tighter. You were enjoying this. Your body was responding, warming, wetting. Your pussy was soaking his cock, not from love or passion, but from stimulation and a desperate, deep-seated hope. Hope that this would work. Hope that this forbidden joining would create your baby: your husband’s and yours. The sounds grew wetter, louder. The blanket rustled with every push he made. Your breathing became shorter, more labored. You could hear his breathing too, deepening, gasping on your face. You couldn’t stop it. The orgasm was happening, a coil tightening low in your belly. It was shameful. It was wrong. You were cumming on your husband’s brother’s cock. The thought made you want to scream, to cry, but it also made the coil tighten more, a cruel paradox. Your thighs trembled. Your hands gripped the blanket at your sides. A high, thin moan escaped from your throat. He felt it. His thrusts became more forceful.

Thump-thump-thump.

The bedframe creaked against the wall.

“I… feel something,” you started, but couldn’t finish, hiding your face by pulling up the covers in shame.

“It’s ok, it’s ok,” he tried to reassure you, keeping himself detached, his eyes still on you. “You can cum,” he murmured, his voice strained now. “It’s better if…”

You couldn’t hold back. His warm, deep, gasping voice close to your face, made you explode. Your back arched off the bed, a silent cry locked in your throat. You didn’t want to show him how much you were enjoying it, how much you were enjoying it because of him. Your pussy clenched around him, a series of intense, gripping spasms. The internal contractions milking his length. He gasped, unable to hold back at the feeling of your pussy squeezing him. Your climax had pulled him closer to his own edge. His thrusts lost their gentle rhythm, becoming faster, harder.

Fap! Fap! Fap!

The impacts were drier, the wet sounds louder. He was close. You could feel it in the tension of his body above you, in the frantic pace, in his breathing. He slowed suddenly, stopping deep inside you, ready to cum. He held himself there, pulsing, throbbing against your convulsing inner walls. You poked your head out from under the blanket, leaving only your eyes visible, and looked at him.

“Are you sure,” he gasped, the words heavy with effort, “you want me to… cum inside you?” His gaze was merciless. Not aggressive, but dark… penetrating. He wanted you to be sure even if he was the one against it, right from the start.

“And you?” you panted, the question desperate. He didn’t answer with words. He answered with action. He gave you other strong, deep thrusts, burying himself as far as he could go deep inside your womb, and then he released, painting your uterus white.

You felt the first surge, a hot, liquid jet deep inside you. A gush, followed by a series of powerful, pumping pulses. He moaned again, longer. His hips pressed firmly against yours, holding you in place, ensuring every drop was deposited as deeply as possible. The sensation of being filled, over-filled, made your head spin. The damage was done. His warmth spread through your core, an enveloping heat that felt both invasive and… hopeful. You lay there, panting, feeling the last few weak throb-throb-throbs of his cock inside you as he finished.

Alastor stayed above you, still joined to you, his body heavy atop yours under the blanket. His eyes where on yours, oscillating between them, looking for disgust and repentance. But there was nothing but a burning, glowing flame in them. Then, slowly and carefully, he pulled it out and withdrew from your pussy. The withdrawal was long. His cum slipping and dripping from your outer lips. You felt empty, but filled. Contaminated by another touch, but maybe… fertilized. He shifted off the bed, removing the blanket from you gently and carefully so as not to make any air. You lay stil, hearing him move around the room, then shifting on the mattress; then, his hands, gentle again, grasped your ankles. He lifted your legs, pulling them up, bending your knees toward your chest. He held you in that position, your hips elevated.

“To aid fertilization,” he explained quietly, his voice back to its calm tone, while with both hands he brought your ankles together so that he could hold them both with one hand, while with the other free hand, gently, he used two fingers to push his seed inside your pussy, deep, before it was too late. You understood. He was tilting you, keeping the seed pooled deep, aiding conception. He held your legs in place for a few minutes. Then he lowered them gently on the warm mattress, fixing your nightgown and handing you the panties that he had already picked up from the floor earlier. You looked at him. His shirt was slightly rumpled, his face flushed, his beautiful curly hair a bit disordered. But his expression was composed, neutral. You sat up, swinging your legs off the bed. Your body felt used. Heavy. But your mind kept wondering… about what you’d dared to do. You hadn’t thought about the consequences of Alastor’s relationship with his brother. How Alastor would feel looking at his brother? Would he feel dirty? Uncomfortable? Would their relationship have been ruined? You hadn’t given any thought to that…

He stood, watching you, his hands now at his sides. “You should… clean up. Before he gets home.”

You nodded, standing. Your legs were shaky. You were too quiet. It scared him a little, too, not knowing what you were thinking… Alastor called your name.

“Y/N,” he called out to you as you stood at the door, before you left his room. “Do you… regret it?” His gaze had a strange light and intensity, but you thought that, like you, he just felt guilty deep down.

“No… I just… I hadn’t thought about how you would feel in the presence of your brother. I’m sorry...”

You walked past him as he reached up to grab your shoulder, opening his mouth to, presumably, say something. But he did neither. You walked out of his room, down the hall to the bathroom you shared with your husband. In the bathroom, under the bright, accusatory light as if you were under interrogation at the police station hiding a crime, you looked at yourself in the mirror: your clothes were intact. No evidence of what had happened on the outside, but inside… everything was upside down. Inside, another man’s sperm was reaching your ovaries, perhaps planting a baby. From a man who wasn’t yours. Who didn’t belong to you. Your face was pale. You felt the wetness inside you. Then, slowly and with a heavy body, you opened the tap, letting the hot water flow out. You cleaned up as best you could, wiping away the evidence from your skin. You couldn’t wipe it away from inside. You kept rubbing your hands under the water, but the feeling of dirt and inadequacy didn’t go away. Tired and exhausted, you turned off the tap, dried yourself with the towel and left the bathroom. When you returned to the living room, Alastor was there, sitting in his armchair again, a book open in his hands as if nothing had happened. He didn’t look at you. You returned to the kitchen, sitting at the round table, thinking about what had happened and how rotten you felt inside. You placed a hand on your belly, with the hope that made you a little more alive and hopeful, waiting for your husband’s car to pull into the driveway, to welcome him and go to sleep together ready for your married life that was about to change.

part 1 below | next | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

the air is thick with it—wet, greedy kisses that sound like he’s trying to overwhelm you, even as his mouth keeps brushing yours like he’s afraid to let go.

sukuna kisses you while you’re on his lap like a starved man, lips moving with a kind of urgency that blurs the line between respect and pure want.

one hand stays firm at the back of your neck, his palm hot against you your skin. the other swallows your face, cupping your cheek with a gentleness that almost feels wrong on him. though his grip tightens as if he can’t help it—holding you there, trapping you in him.

you’ve kissed him before, sure—shy, hesitant things that barely brushed the surface since the time you’ve began dating.

he was your first boyfriend. your first kiss.

but you’d never done anything like this before.

sukuna won’t ever admit it, but you were too damn cute today—your oversized sweater, glossy lips, baggy jeans, and glasses slipping down your nose. of course he couldn’t hold back any longer.

his tongue slides against yours and you whine into his mouth, finally melting above him. your fingers twist in his shirt, he lets out a low sound against your mouth—something between a groan and a laugh.

your glasses press crookedly against his face, the cool frame digging into his cheek as he kisses you harder. he doesn’t even care. if anything, it only spurs him on. he growls a quiet curse against your lips, chasing you when you try to pull back to fix them. his hand shifts from your neck to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as if to say don’t you dare.

hazbin hotel smut | human!alastor x reader one-shot

summary: Alastor prided himself as being a man of great care - from having polished his appearance to please the folks on the street or charming his producers at the station, down to making sure nobody would ever think to suspect him of doing any sort of unsavoury business. So, how did he allow this slip up? It was no fault of his, certainly!

content & warnings: ~4,9k words, smut with afab!reader // porn with accidentally too much plot, mentions of blood, non sex-repulsed!alastor, dry-humping, fingering, p in v, alastor being terrible at dealing with feelings, alastor being alastor and doing alastor things

author's note: so, um. hello. this was written in one and a half nights so my friend had something to read during class or whatever, so bear with me here. this is also my first x reader fic that i did not even plan on writing, but i had to get this idea out of my system to get back on my main projects. so, i'll uh... just leave this here. for you. ~xoxo

LMAOOOO LIIIITERALLY i do support this HC for sure—he can be such a fucking dork. I mean bro literally is superstitious like with using belly warmers etc even though vampires can’t get sick. It’s very funny.

We see him fill out a crossword puzzle in a book or newspaper or something, which most people nowadays do that on their phone.

The dichotamy of this guy is insane

i swear i wouldn't be surprised if we caught him with a nightcap/nightgown and walking around with an oil lamp even tho it would be daytime if he was supposed to be asleep and that makes it even funnier

Here’s the silly drawing, I actually love how it turned out lolol!

what an amazing thing to wake up to oh my god