đ©ž How They React to You Wanting to Peg Them đ©ž
Brothers Ver.
Contains: Pegging (duh), Polyamory, Dom/sub dynamics, Power exchange, Multiple partners, Group sex, Aftercare, Praise kink, Vulnerability, Anal sex, Voyeurism (implied), Size kink, First-time (implied for Simeon), and others I may have missed
đ©ž Diavolo
His first reaction is a loud, hearty laugh that fills the room. It's not mocking, but full of pure, unadulterated delight and surprise. "What a wonderfully bold idea!" he'll exclaim, his eyes sparkling with amusement and intrigue.
The concept of you, his cherished human partner, taking charge in such a way is thrilling to him. He's a demon who craves new experiences and values strength and confidence. Your proposition is a massive turn-on, and he's 100% on board without a moment's hesitation.
To Diavolo, this isn't just a sexual act; it's an adventure. A new frontier of pleasure to explore with you. He'll likely sweep you up in a hug, kissing you deeply, already planning the occasion with the excitement of a king planning a royal tournament.
He sees it as the ultimate expression of trust and equality in your relationship. He is the ruler of the Devildom, yet he is willing to be utterly vulnerable and submissive to you. He finds the power dynamic shift to be incredibly romantic and a testament to the strength of your bond.
Diavolo is not quiet. He roars. His pleasure is expressed in deep, guttural moans, breathless laughter, and shouts of your name. He's completely shameless, lost in the raw, physical sensation of it all. The entire castle probably knows what's happening.
He's not passive. He'll buck his hips back against you, demanding more, harder, faster. He'll tell you exactly how good it feels, his praise a constant, deep rumble. "Yes, just like that! Don't you dare hold back!"
The future King of the Devildom, a being of immense power, is reduced to a sweaty, trembling, whimpering mess. His maroon hair is plastered to his forehead, his face is flushed a deep red, and his eyes are rolled back in his head. It's a glorious sight.
His huge hands will be everywhere: gripping your hips so tightly he might leave bruises, tangled in your hair, clutching the sheets. He needs to feel you, to ground himself as you send waves of intense pleasure through his body.
Diavolo is on his hands and knees in the middle of his massive, opulent bed, the sheer scale of it making him look like a magnificent offering. He's looking back at you over his shoulder, a grin on his face, his eyes burning with anticipation. His powerful body is coiled with energy, ready for whatever you're about to give him.
You approach, running a hand down his spine, and he shudders, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "Are you ready, my lord?" you tease, using his title to make him shiver.
"Anything for you," he rumbles, his voice a deep, eager purr.
You don't make him wait long. You press the toy against him and push in, and the sound he makes is nothing short of primal; a deep, guttural groan of pure satisfaction. You start to move, and he immediately pushes back, meeting your thrusts with an almost feral enthusiasm.
The bed frame groans with the force of your movements. Diavolo is loud, a constant stream of "Ah, yes!" and "By the devil, that feels incredible!" His powerful arms tremble with the effort of holding himself up. You reach around and wrap your hand around his cock, and he shouts, his hips jerking wildly as he comes undone completely. He collapses onto the bed, pulling you down with him, a laughing, satisfied, and thoroughly wrecked demon king in your arms.
đ©ž Barbatos
His reaction is subtle. His eyes might widen just a fraction, and the polite smile on his face freezes for a split second before melting into something more intrigued and unreadable. He doesn't flinch or show disgust, just a moment of quiet, profound surprise.
He processes the request with the same care he would a diplomatic incident. He'll tilt his head, his gaze sharp and assessing. "An interesting proposition," he'd say, his voice smooth as silk. "May I inquire as to what prompted this desire? I wish to understand the full scope of your intentions."
For Barbatos, whose entire existence is about service and control (of time, of the castle, of Diavolo), this is the ultimate inversion. Allowing you to take him in such a way is the ultimate act of trust and a profound statement of his devotion to you. It means he trusts you with his very being, in a way that transcends his duties.
He won't say no, but he will set the terms. He needs it to be on his own time, in a place where he feels secure (likely his private quarters), and with the understanding that his role as Diavolo's butler must never be compromised. Once those conditions are met, he agrees with a graceful nod.
Barbatos isn't a screamer. His pleasure is expressed in soft, sharp gasps, low moans that are almost swallowed, and the occasional, breathy whimper when you hit just the right spot. His sounds are restrained but incredibly genuine.
He tries to maintain his composure, to observe and analyze the sensations. For a while, he succeeds, his hands gripping the sheets, his brow furrowed in concentration. But once you find a rhythm that overwhelms him, that control shatters beautifully. His back will arch, his toes will curl, and he'll bury his face in a pillow to muffle his cries.
When he's not losing himself in the moment, his eyes are locked on yours. The look is one of pure, unadulterated adoration and vulnerability. He's watching you, his partner, the one person he's willing to let see him like this. It's intensely intimate.
He gives himself over to the experience completely. He doesn't try to direct you or take back control. He is yours to do with as you please, his body pliant and receptive. He finds a strange, liberating peace in letting go of his constant need to manage everything.
The setting is his impeccably neat room, the scent of old books and calming herbs in the air. Barbatos is kneeling on the edge of his bed, facing the headboard, his hands gripping the ornate wood. His back is to you, a perfect, elegant line of muscle and pale skin. He's stripped down to nothing, his usual poise still present in the straight set of his spine.
You come up behind him, your hands gently tracing the curve of his lower back. He tenses slightly at your touch but doesn't pull away. You lean in, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade.
"Relax, Barbatos," you whisper. "Let me take care of you."
He lets out a slow, shuddering breath and nods, his grip on the headboard tightening. You slick up the toy and press it against him. He inhales sharply, a quiet hiss, as you slowly push inside. His body resists for a moment before yielding, and you hear him mutter a soft, "Ah..." under his breath.
You start with a slow, gentle rhythm, and he meets it by pushing back slightly, silently asking for more. His composure is a fragile thing; with each deep, deliberate thrust, you can feel it cracking. His knuckles are white where he grips the headboard, and his head drops forward, his green hair falling over his face.
âLook at me," you command softly.
He turns his head just enough to look at you over his shoulder, his cheeks flushed, his eyes glassy and dark with pleasure. The sight of the ever-unflappable butler so undone, his lips parted as he pants for breath, is your undoing. You increase your pace, and a broken moan finally escapes his lips, muffled against his arm.
đ©ž Solomon
His first reaction is calculating interest. A slow, knowing smile spreads across his face.
Heâs genuinely curious about the mechanics and the sensations. He'll likely ask a series of questions from a place of sensual inquiry. "What kind of harness? What material do you envision? And what position do you think would be most⊠enlightening for both of us?"
Heâs lived for centuries; vanilla is boring. The idea of you taking control, of experiencing a new form of pleasure and vulnerability with you, is incredibly appealing. He agrees almost immediately, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
For Solomon, this is the ultimate form of trust. He, who is always in control, who holds all the power and knowledge, is willingly handing the reins (quite literally) to you. He finds the concept of trusting you so completely to be profoundly romantic and arousing.
He is not quiet. Heâs a moaner, a whimperer, and a talker. Heâll praise you, tell you how good it feels, and narrate his experience with a breathless, poetic flair. "Ah, right there⊠the way you move is a spell all its own."
Heâs completely invested in your pleasure as well as his own. Heâll watch your face, his expression a mix of adoration and lust, getting off on seeing you so confident and in control. His hands will be on you constantly: gripping your hips, tangled in your hair, caressing your face.
This is the only time youâll see the great Solomon, the all-powerful sorcerer, completely undone. His usual smug, controlled demeanor shatters. Heâll be a mess of sweat, flushed skin, and desperate pleas, utterly lost in the sensation. Itâs a rare and beautiful sight.
He might suggest trying different positions or even incorporating a little magic. A warming spell on the toy? A temporary binding spell on his own wrists? Heâs all for enhancing the experience in any way he can.
The room is dim, lit only by a few floating, magical orbs of light that cast a soft glow on your bodies. Solomon is on his back, pillows stacked under his hips to give you the perfect angle. His legs are spread wide, an invitation. His usual pristine robes are discarded, leaving his pale skin flushed and gleaming with a light sheen of sweat.
Youâre kneeling between his thighs, the strap-on snug against your hips. You run your hands up his chest, your nails scraping lightly over his nipples, and he arches into the touch with a soft gasp. His eyes, usually so sharp and full of ancient knowledge, are hazy with lust and fixed on you.
âAre you ready, my powerful sorcerer?" you murmur, your voice low and teasing.
He lets out a shaky laugh, his hands coming up to grip your shoulders. "I was born ready for you," he breathes, his voice already rough.
You press the tip of the toy against his entrance, and he hisses, his entire body tensing for a moment before deliberately forcing himself to relax. You push in slowly, watching his face as his eyes flutter shut and his mouth falls open in a silent 'o' of pure pleasure.
You start to move, a slow, steady rhythm that has him writhing beneath you. "Fuck," he chokes out, his usual eloquence failing him. "Don't stop⊠please, don't stop." His hips begin to rock back to meet your thrusts, chasing the sensation. He's completely surrendered, babbling your name and a string of curses and praises. Seeing the great Solomon so utterly pliant and desperate, his body trembling as you fuck into him, is the most intoxicating power you've ever felt.
đ©ž Simeon
His reaction is a beautiful, sweet blush that spreads from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He'll be momentarily speechless, his angelic eyes widening slightly as he processes your words. It's not shock or disgust, but pure, endearing surprise.
Simeon is an angel who genuinely loves learning about humanity and all its forms of expression and intimacy. After his initial blush fades, he'll look at you with soft, curious eyes. "That's... a new concept for me," he'd say gently. "Could you tell me more about it? I want to understand what it would feel like... for you, and for me."
He quickly reframes the proposition in his mind. The idea of you wanting to give him pleasure in such an intimate, unique way is deeply touching to him.
He agrees, not out of mere curiosity, but because he trusts you implicitly. If this is something you desire, and it's a way for you to connect, he is more than willing to try it. His acceptance is quiet, sincere, and full of love.
His sounds are soft and melodic. He lets out breathy gasps, soft whimpers, and will whisper your name like a prayer. He's not loud, but every sound he makes is filled with genuine emotion and pleasure.
He's a bit shy and self-conscious at first, unsure of what to do with his hands or how to position himself. But once you start and the pleasure builds, he becomes incredibly receptive, melting into your touch and the sensations. He's completely pliant and willing to follow your lead.
For Simeon, the experience is intensely emotional. It's not just about the physical feeling; it's about the connection between you. He'll keep his eyes locked on yours, his gaze full of so much love and vulnerability it might make your heart ache.
You'll get to see the usually calm and poetic Simeon become a trembling, needy mess. His brow will be furrowed in pleasure, his lips parted in soft pants, and his hands will clutch at you desperately as if you're his only anchor to reality.
The atmosphere is soft and romantic, with candlelight flickering gently in his room at Purgatory Hall. Simeon is lying on his side, facing you, with one leg lifted to give you access. He's naked, his pale skin glowing in the warm light, and his expression is a mix of nervousness and anticipation.
You're spooning him, your arm wrapped around his chest, holding him close. You press a soft kiss to his shoulder. "Just relax, my angel," you murmur in his ear. "I've got you."
He lets out a shaky breath and nods, leaning back into your embrace. You slick the toy and slowly press it against his entrance. He tenses with a soft gasp, his hand coming up to grip your arm. You wait, letting him adjust, before pushing in slowly, inch by inch.
A low, drawn-out moan escapes his lips as you fill him. "Oh..." he breathes, his voice trembling. You begin to move, a slow, gentle rocking rhythm that has him whimpering against your hand. He's so responsive, his body arching into yours with every thrust.
You reach down and take his hardening cock in your hand, stroking him in time with your movements. That's his undoing. He cries out, a beautiful, broken sound, as he spills over your hand. His entire body shudders, and he turns his head to bury his face in your neck, his breathing ragged. He holds you tightly, his body still trembling with the aftershocks, whispering "I love you" over and over again.
đ©ž Poly!Side Chars
The moment the words leave your lips, the air in the room shifts. Diavolo lets out a booming, joyous laugh that immediately breaks any tension. "Ingenious! Absolutely magnificent!"
Across from him, Simeon blushes a brilliant scarlet, his angelic eyes wide as he nervously smooths his robes, but a small, curious smile plays on his lips.
Solomon simply grins, a sharp, calculating look in his eyes as he steeples his fingers. "Now that is a fascinating idea," he purrs.
And Barbatos? Barbatos remains perfectly still, a faint, knowing smile touching his lips as he observes the reactions of his lovers, already planning the logistics in his head.
They don't even need to speak. A silent understanding passes between them. Diavolo, ever the enthusiastic leader, claps his hands together. "Well, this settles it! We simply must!"
Solomon leans forward, adding, "The shared energy would be unparalleled. We must document the⊠effects."
Simeon, gaining confidence from their excitement, adds softly, "To share something so⊠personal with all of you⊠I'd like that."
Barbatos gives a single, decisive nod. "I will clear my schedule for the entire evening. Lord Diavolo's chambers. I will ensure we are not disturbed and that everything is prepared to your exact specifications, my love."
There is no hesitation, no judgment. Instead, there's an immediate and overwhelming sense of shared excitement. They see it not as a strange request, but as a thrilling new adventure for their polycule. It's a chance to explore a new dynamic of trust, power, and intimacy that will bind them all even closer together. The proposition is instantly accepted as a group, with you at the very center of their eager, loving attention.
The conversation immediately shifts to logistics, but in the most loving and enthusiastic way possible. Diavolo wants it to be a grand event. Solomon is already suggesting different positions and maybe a few pleasure-enhancing spells. Simeon quietly asks about making sure everyone is comfortable and feels safe. And Barbatos, in his element, takes mental notes, already preparing a list of supplies: the finest oils, soft sheets, and perhaps a special tea to help everyone relax beforehand. They are a well-oiled machine of love, and your proposal is their new favorite mission.
The room is filled with a chorus of sounds, each distinct and beautiful. Diavolo's booming, uninhibited moans and laughter are the bassline, grounding the experience in raw pleasure. Solomon's breathless praise and dirty talk are the melody, a constant, erotic narration of the events. Simeon's soft, whimpering gasps and whispered praises are the harmony, the emotional core that makes the moment so intimate. And Barbatos... Barbatos's choked-off moans and sharp, quiet intakes of breath are the percussion, the thrilling, unexpected beat that proves even he is completely lost to it.
As you take one of them, the other three are not idle. They are participants. Hands roam, stroking and caressing. Lips meet in passionate kisses between gasps. Solomon might be whispering filth in Diavolo's ear while Diavolo holds Simeon's hand. Barbatos, while waiting for his turn, might be gently stroking Simeon's hair, grounding him. It's a beautiful, tangled web of limbs and affection, where every touch is shared and amplified by the group.
The power dynamics shift and flow like water. When you are with Diavolo, he is the loud, proud center of attention, but he's also the one holding Solomon's gaze, encouraging him. When it's Solomon's turn, he's the one being vocal and demanding, yet he reaches out to Barbatos, a silent acknowledgment of his lover's presence. With Simeon, the group becomes softer, more protective, their touches gentler as they watch their angel fall apart. And with Barbatos, they all watch in rapt attention as their unflappable butler finally shatters, a shared victory that they all celebrate. Each man's submission is a gift to the group, and each man's dominance (in watching, in touching) is a gift to the one being taken.
When it's all over, the bed becomes a nest of sated, sweaty bodies. There's no separation. Diavolo will likely pull you all into a massive, bone-crushing hug, declaring it the "greatest night in Devildom history." Solomon will be sighing contentedly, already planning the next "ritual." Simeon will be tearfully happy, cuddled against someone's chest, murmuring about how much he loves his family. And Barbatos, for the first time perhaps ever, will allow himself to be completely limp and pliable in the pile, a rare, soft smile on his face as he's surrounded by the people he trusts enough to share such profound vulnerability with.
The grand royal bedroom was bathed in the warm, flickering light of a hundred enchanted candles, their flames dancing in time with the heavy, anticipatory breaths of the two demons, a human, and an angel waiting for you.
You stood at the foot of the bed, a harness snug on your hips, feeling the weight of four pairs of eyes on you. Diavolo was sprawled confidently in the middle, a grin of pure delight on his face. To his right, Solomon leaned against the headboard, his expression a mixture of academic curiosity and raw lust. To Diavolo's left, Simeon sat looking flushed and beautiful, his hands twisting nervously in the silk sheets. And standing just beside the bed, ever the observant facilitator, was Barbatos, his posture perfect but his eyes dark with an emotion you couldn't quite name.
"Who's first?" you asked, your voice a low purr.
Diavolo's booming laugh filled the room. "Let us begin with the heart of our group. Simeon should go first."
Simeon let out a soft squeak but nodded, his eyes finding yours and filling with trust. You moved to him, cupping his cheek and kissing him gently. Solomon and Diavolo shifted closer, their hands resting on Simeon's arms and thighs, a silent promise of support. You positioned him on his back, his legs spread for you. As you slowly pushed into him, his back arched and a soft, breathy cry escaped his lips. His hands flew to his mouth, but Diavolo gently pulled them away, intertwining their fingers. "Let us hear you, angel," Diavolo rumbled. You set a gentle, loving rhythm, and Simeon was a mix of soft whimpers and whispered praises, his body trembling beneath you as he came with a quiet, shuddering gasp.
Next was Solomon, who eagerly took Simeon's place, flipping onto his hands and knees with a wicked grin. "My turn for this fascinating experiment," he purred. Diavolo moved to kneel in front of him, gripping his chin and kissing him deeply, while Barbatos began to gently clean Simeon with a warm, damp cloth, his touch impossibly tender. You entered Solomon with a firm, steady thrust, and he moaned loudly into Diavolo's mouth. "Yes, just like that!" he gasped, pulling back to look at you over his shoulder. His words dissolved into a string of curses as you fucked him harder, his body rocking with the force of your thrusts until he spilled onto the sheets with a loud, satisfied shout.
Then, it was Barbatos's turn. He moved with silent grace, kneeling at the edge of the bed and presenting himself with a quiet dignity that was incredibly arousing. Diavolo and Solomon flanked him, their hands covering his. "Let go, Barbatos," Diavolo commanded softly. "We're here." As you slowly pushed into him, his entire body went rigid, and a sharp, choked gasp was torn from his throat. You built a slow, relentless pace, and with each thrust, you could feel his legendary control cracking. His quiet gasps became desperate whimpers, and finally, with a broken sob of pure pleasure, he buried his face in the mattress, his body shaking as he came undone.
Finally, you turned to Diavolo. He was the picture of a future triumphant king, lying back against the mountain of pillows, his powerful legs spread wide in invitation. The other three, sated and glowing, moved to surround him. You entered the Demon Lord, and he let out a roar of pleasure that seemed to shake the very foundations of the castle. He was loud, demanding, and completely yours. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you deeper. Solomon and Simeon were kissing his chest and neck, and Barbatos was whispering in his ear, urging him on. With a final, powerful thrust, Diavolo came with a deafening shout of your name, his body arching off the bed before collapsing into a boneless, happy heap.
The aftermath was a tangle of limbs and soft, happy sighs. Diavolo pulled you all into his arms, a massive, contented pile of bodies. Solomon was already muttering about the "profound energetic shift," while Simeon sniffled happily, pressed against Barbatos's side. And Barbatos, the ever-composed butler, simply closed his eyes, a rare, genuine smile on his face as he drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the four people he loved more than anything.
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