#poly mc anon

[ibelongtowrath]

(Poly MC) So like, imagine you’re at some event for Diavolo and the demon prince himself is showing you off to his guests, flirting with you, dancing with you, the whole nine yards. Barbatos keeps you distracted and just a bit tipsy with a human world vintage he got his hands on and Simeon and Solomon have you laughing all night long and the brothers. Are. Livid. So livid, in fact, that Lucifer actually makes them all leave early, and you don’t really realize what’s going on, you were having a fabulous time, why does everybody look so mad? You only realize what’s gotten into them once you’re back home and laying between Mammon’s legs in the family room, his tongue drawing slick circles across your neck to soothe the fading bite marks while Beel laps messily between your spread thighs, your trembling fingers tangled in his orange locks while Mammon’s arm slings around your waist, pinning you to him greedily. Asmo draws you in for a kiss that has you forgetting everything but where they are touching you, and somewhere (it seems very far away) Lucifer says, “The next time they see you, all they will be able to smell is us.”

“They’ll know who you belong to,” Satan says somewhere near your chest, and you whimper into Asmo’s mouth when he twists your nipples meanly, as if in punishment for your flirtations.

“And they’ll be sorry if they try anything,” Belphie grumbles, coaxing your fingers out of Beel’s hair and towards his throbbing cock. The redhead makes a muffled whine against your sex at the loss of pressure, the sound sending aftershocks up your spine.

Your hand is slick with Belphie’s cum after only a few strokes. Asmo is still kissing you, every push of his tongue against yours a worthy trade for your last shreds of sanity. Levi pushes his cock into your free hand and you hear him release a shaky moan when you begin to stroke.

Satan leaves bites up and down your chest, taking special care to leave some lovely bruises around your nipples and the tender softness of the skin there. He chuckles against his love bites. “They’ll smell us on your breath for weeks, once we’re finished with you, kitten.”

Beel licks a stripe up your sex and you nearly jerk in his grip. Combined with Satan’s wicked promise, you can’t help but whine, needy and clenching and wanting for your lovers. Mammon groans, “They’re ready, they’re ready,” impatience rolling off of him in waves. Beel grunts when he rises from between your legs, Satan moving back too, the two of them watching you carefully. Mammon keeps your legs spread and your needy hole exposed and glistening with slick and saliva both, broad hands passing over your soft inner thighs to keep them open. Mammon whispers praises and love and “You’re doin’ so good for us, precious,” but the next one that fills your vision is Lucifer, his crimson eyes dark and hypnotic and all that you can see anymore as he kneels before you. In his eyes shines his sin, his pride, his pride at the mess you are, his pride because they made you this way — not Barbatos, not Simeon, not Solomon, not even Diavolo himself. You’re aching and shaking and your hole clenches around open air, begging to be filled, and it’s because of them.

Asmo coos in fake sympathy. “You already look a mess, and we haven’t even done anything yet, sweetie. Come on, we’ve got a long night and then the whole weekend before we have to go back to R.A.D.”

“So true, Asmo,” Lucifer murmurs. His gloved fingers dip inside your hole, testing, his eyes glinting when he feels how ready you are. “Though, dearest, if you need to sleep — don’t be shy. We’ll make sure you always stay nice and filled, even as you rest.”

Somewhere next to you Asmo’s low moan harmonizes with your own when the firstborn finally pushes inside you, filling you, stretching you until you’re stuffed and aching and sobbing their names — any, all of their names — and Lucifer moves and every thrust feels like the world moving all around you and the rest of them are touching you, touching you until you are is one frayed nerve of electric feeling, touching you until you’re slick with sweat and cum, touching you until don’t know where you begin and they end, anymore.

Anon, you just casually dropped gold in my inbox 👀 I saw this ask this morning and I have been thinking about it since then and like… YES PLEASE TO ALL OF IT

I think I need a part 2 with the weekend activities 👀👀

[ibelongtowrath]

(Hi! You’re so nice omg, and so is everyone who liked the poly MC, I did not expect that! Sorry this took a few days, life got in the way and so did writer’s block lol. I’m so happy y’all liked my filth 😂 Poly MC Part 2. I might spam u with part 3 if that’s ok because I wanna write jealous Purgatory Hall boys/royals 👀)

So, when Satan said they’ll know who you belong to and they’ll smell us on you for weeks and Asmo said they’ve got the whole weekend, they weren’t lying.

They really, really weren’t lying. Luckily, neither was Lucifer when he told you not to be afraid to rest. They’re demons and they can be infuriating even at their very best, but they always have your comfort in mind. When the exhaustion finally begins to catch up to you, hours after leaving Diavolo’s party, Beel’s big hands are helping your smaller body grind into his own from where you’re perched in his lap, on his cock.

Belphie, naturally, is the first to notice. He coos your name, lips coming close to your ear as Beel stops moving you and starts moving inside you. Pounding into you from below, big body ramming into you hard enough that you swear you’re seeing stars. Your fingers hang limply from his broad shoulders, and somewhere close, you hear him tell you it’s alright to rest, we’ll take care of everything, you’ve been so good for us. Belphie echoes the statements, voice low and almost coaxing, as your exhaustion wins out over your pleasure and you plunge into darkness.

It isn’t for long. Belphie meets you in dreams more often than he seems to meet you in the waking world, and this is no exception — often you’ve found yourself in wet dreams of his own construction, but this? This is different.

Very faintly, you can still feel the ache and the force of Beel’s body entering your own, the sheer ferocity of his cock hitting the tender deep parts of you, following you into dreams. In your dreams, though, Belphie is careful not to touch you — ghosts over your body with a feather-like touch until the deluge of sensation, both physical and mental, leaves you quivering. The seventh-born chuckles, his eyes dark violet when he meets your gaze, when he asks “What do you want? Tell me. Anything you want, I’ll give you.”

You tell him, with quivering lips, and you know this is his way of marking up your soul while the others do their work on the rest of your body. They want you marked in every capacity, so there’s no room for doubt, so even angels like Simeon won’t be able to look at you without knowing what you’ve done for these seven. The way you’ve let them inside you — all of you, your heart, soul, the tight wet space between your legs. There’s no part of you they haven’t touched.

It could be minutes or hours, but when you wake again you wake gasping, wet, moaning for more. It’s something about the dream, the dream and the sheets beneath your body, the dream and something deliciously thick sliding between your thighs. You woke at the best part of the dream, the very peak of it, before you could cum, only to be thrust back into the waking world. Your room. They’d moved you to your room and they hadn’t stopped.

“There they are,” Asmo sings cheerfully. His body is slung over yours, hands roaming across the aching, love-bitten skin. He nuzzles you, scents you. Says mine without saying a single word.

“Did you sleep well?” Belphie chuckles near your ear. You open your mouth, maybe to reply, but he bites your shoulder hard and what comes out instead is a strangled moan. “Do you remember seeing me? I tried to make it as eventful as possible while you still got to rest, you know.”

Still half in the hazy memory of the wet dream he’d supplied you with, you moan again, arching your back against the small ocean of pillows and blankets that’s become of your bed. You’re surrounded by them all still, Asmo over you and Belphie beside you. Beel sits beside the latter, bending to kiss your belly or your chest every so often. Satan sits beside Asmo, his fingers threading lightly through your hair in some mocking attempt to soothe you while they take turns rearranging your fucking organs.

Levi is between your legs now, your ankles in his hands while he moves just right against you, until you can’t focus on anything but the fullness inside you. Lucifer stands nearby, watching the space where you two are connected with keen fixation, as if measuring and judging every thrust and your reaction to it. It might have been humiliating if you weren’t already so far gone. You want to say something, but the words are battered out of you with every hard, clumsy thrust. You think you hear Mammon’s voice, and then Belphie is gone and you can taste your favorite greedy demon, cigarettes and something spicy and warm. Your hands tangle in his hair. “Mine,” he growls when he lets you breathe, only to push his mouth against yours once more.

Faintly, you hear Levi mutter, “Ours.” His hands grip your hips hard enough to bruise and you feel the flood of his warmth coating you, dripping down your thighs, one of many loads they’d pumped into you since you’ve returned home. You whimper. You’re so full, and you decide then that’s the way you’d like to stay, forever and ever, for always —

“Yours,” you gasp, when you can breathe again. Your lashes flutter, and out of the corner of your eye, you think you catch Lucifer’s smile.

No need to apologize, I know life can get in the way a lot!

This is just… so good?! Amazing! So hot and sexy and filthy but tasteful and damn! You’re a great writer, and of course you are welcome to write and send me a Part 3! I don’t think anyone would argue with that 👀

I would 100% let Belphie give me a wet dream, it’s so sexy and aaaaaaa

Thank you for another piece of absolute gold yet again omg

[ibelongtowrath]

*slamming fists on the table* PO~LY! AN~ON! PO~LY! AN~ON! PO~LY! AN~ON! PO~LY! AN~ON! You're doing amazing, sweetie!

Compiled all the love for Poly MC anon that is currently in my inbox lol 🙏🏼

I tagged them as “poly Mc anon” but I think ima just go with “poly anon” from now on lol

[ibelongtowrath]

Satan: As everyone in the House of Lamentation is aware, there is someone in our lives, someone we care deeply about, a beautiful and kind person we would do anything to keep happy, to protect —

Asmo: Me?!

Mammon: No, idiot, REBECCA.

(Hey boo, it’s poly!anon here. I just wanna drop in and say I'm so sorry about what you’re going through. But your followers (and the boys 😉) all love you and are wishing you the best. I know it hurts, but remember you’re amazing and I’m sending you lots of love. I hope today is a little bit better for you 💕)

Hi bb! Thank you so much, this was cute 🥺💙💚💕 I’m happy to know all you guys love me, even the boys 🥺

I did have a bit of a better day yesterday, and I’m going on a trip today so I have that to look forward to. I hope you’re doing well yourself, you too are very loved and appreciated on my blog! 😏💙💚💕