Does anybody in the Obey Me! cast know that MC's phone is special and can basically see other people's text chains at random? Would anyone ever pick up on this?
Imagine hanging out with Beelzebub when Belphegor starts messaging him. Your phone, wholly unrelated to their chat in any way, starts dinging every single time Belphegor sends a message. It buzzes at the exact same time as Beelzebub's phone. Maybe he'll laugh it off as coincidence at first, but in time of course he'll get suspicious.
Imagine chilling with Leviathan when your phone starts blowing up with notifications because Mammon and Satan are having an argument. Leviathan becomes envious. You must be so popular, you must have so many people vying for your attention. He starts getting upset.
You try to tell him the messages aren't important (they're not even for you!), but you can't exactly admit that your phone is constantly spying on the conversations between him and his brothers. How you watched him teach Diavolo how to play Mononoke Land in real time.
Does this system only work with people you know? With the people currently registered as contacts in your D.D.D.? Do you ever see the random thirst messages people DM Asmodeus? Do you ever see Mephistopheles message private matters to his family? How often are surprises ruined due to this? How difficult is it to watch Simeon repeatedly message Solomon with questions he clearly intended to text Lucifer? Can you keep your mouth shut when two people are privately discussing juicy gossip that's too good to ignore?
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listen. if you don’t like sabrina carpenter that’s fine, but that woman’s outfits are so stunning and i can just imagine ghost going absolutely mad seeing you in them.
especially in something like THIS. that man would go absolutely fucking feral.
normally he would be ripping your cute little outfits and lingerie at the seams, but oh no, not this one. the baby blue just looked so perfect, hugging your curves in all the right places. he had to keep this outfit safe no matter the cost.
one night, you slip it on right before he comes home from work, and set yourself up all pretty for him. your hair fanning out across your face, skin glowing, an angel amongst a sea of blankets and pillows right there on top of his bed.
simon’s angel.
and oh he is on his knees for you.
he’d worship every last inch of your body. those perfect, round tits that he’d suck into his mouth eagerly. he’d kiss down the plump of your tummy, the dip of your hips, until he’s nestled in between your legs.
he’d kiss along your inner thighs, moving his thumb up to rub at your sensitive nub, your back arching up into him, whining out his name like the pretty little thing you were.
simon would take his time with you. always does. he doesn’t want to hurt his girl when he finally does settle himself in between your legs, his cock heavy and sliding against your folds. the lingerie is still on, panties tugged to the side around his thumb.
“all this for me?” he’d ask in that deep, loving voice, reserved only for you. strands of his golden hair, that have grown out a bit more than usual, stick to his forehead. a handsome grin is plastered along his scarred face, lust filled eyes gleam down at you and you’d whine.
god you loved him so much.
and he’d let you know he felt the same, wrapping his hands around the curve of your waist while he pressed himself into you. pressed himself into heaven.
“look at ya. so pretty.” you swear you hear him whine.
“takin’ me so well like a good girl.” this time you whine.
his thumb comes up to rub at your clit again while he pistons into you relentlessly. his tip hits that sweet spot so deep inside that you see stars and he backs off for a moment before hitting it over and over again.
your moans only encourage him further, his free hand roaming you like he can’t keep off of you, can’t get enough of you.
he grabs your jaw, your lips pursing from his grip. simon looks down at you with an expression so feral you could have orgasmed from that alone.
“gunna fill ya fulla me, sweet’art, that alright?”
you whine and beg for him.
yes. please, simon. inside, please.
“sing for me, angel. i wanna hear tha pretty voice.”
and you do sing for him. his name falling from your lips like a hymn, a gentle song only meant for his ears. simon can’t help but hold onto you tighter, gruff hands digging into the meat of your hips as you clench around him so tight he feels dizzy.
and he all but loses his damn mind, fucking you into the mattress despite how overstimulated you are. tears stain your pink cheeks and he thumbs them away, pressing into you so far you can feel him in your guts.
simon’s rambling, his forehead pressing into your temple as you cry out, your tears dampening his cheeks.
“ya look like a fucking goddess in this damn outfit. so beautiful. dunno wha tha fuck i did in my past life, but damned brute like me doesn’t deserve ya.”
he won’t stop talking. it’s all so much, yet the praise is sending you over the moon. your skin is on fire where his thrusts meet your ass, and you know there will be purple hand shaped bruises blooming along the expanse of your body when the morning comes.
“fuckkk,” his hips stutter slightly, your core becoming tight as he pulls himself completely out and slams himself right back to the hilt continuously.
“gunna breed this pretty pussy,” and you clench around him so fucking tight he almost collapses, a guttural moan escaping his chapped lips.
“ya like that, baby? want me to make ya a mummy?”
your back arches and you scream for him, white consuming your vision. simon’s hands grab ahold of your plump thighs and his hips roll down into you one last time. he twitches inside of your warmth while his spend coats your velvety walls. his arms reach up to wrap around your torso that’s still arched, his forehead pressing into your ribs as he catches his breath.
you both sit this way for a while, until he regains his composure and lowers your tired body back down to the bed.
when he sits up right your eyes are closed, long lashes tickling the apples of your blushing cheeks. your breathing is even now, and your skin is somehow glowing even more than it was when he first walked in. your hair cascades out around you like a wave. his palm hesitantly glides up along your tummy as if taboo. as if someone like him was undeserving of someone as soft as you.
and simon swears when he looks up at you, taking you in completely, he sees the glow of a halo above your head and a pair of angel wings nestled against the silk sheets of the bed beneath you.
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