You're the only thing he's EVER wanted this much; he's never, ever asked for anything for himself, given his whole soul to being of service to everyone else and maybe it's the devildom corrupting him, but he doesn't even care at this point. Not when your lips feel so soft and your body is so warm. He feels your heartbeat racing, the tremble of arousal your skin shivers with, your flushed cheeks, your eyes practically have hearts in them...
Usually you two stop before this happens. You push Simeon away with red cheeks that he follows all the way up to your ears, conjuring some excuse and scurrying away. Those are the nights he hates being an Angel. He sits on his bed, hands clasped angrily, praying for forgiveness as dark thoughts overtake him.
Do you run back to the House of Lamentation and let them fuck you? He wishes he could, don't you see that? Every night since the two of you started this whole thing, he wishes there was some way he could touch you like they do, with lewd intentions and not feel an ounce of guilt or regret.
But now he has you, right underneath him, flushed and warm and willing. How can he deny his most loved? How can he say no to this, with you? He pulls away from your lips, knowing this makeout session has pushed him too far over the edge.
"Oh," you whisper, there's a shakiness to your voice that undeniably related to the heat he feels coming from lower. "Sorry. Got carried away... I'll just-"
You try to get up and Simeon pushes you back down on his bed. You blink up at him, confused. "I-? What? Simeon?" He shakes his head slowly. "But... I thought you... couldn't... it's- it's ok, really, I can just go cool off-"
That snaps him. But he doesn't let it show. He just brings a gloved hand up to your cheek and looks into your eyes. He hopes you'll still love him when he's not holy anymore. "Stay with me tonight," he whispers.
You can't find your voice. Your throat dries up with those four words, and you resort to nodding your head to answer him.
"Thank you," he whispers, giving you a chaste kiss. He pulls back and looks at you for a long minute, stroking your cheek absent mindedly.
Your heart flutters. He's so sweet, you think. We'll just cuddle and fall asleep. It's going to be so nice! ♡
But then, Simeon presses his lips against you once again, and you are caught off guard by the sudden voracity. You try to pull away but the hand he's dropped from your face to your bicept clenches down. His tongue licks your lower lip and you open it, without hesitation. You're confused, but hell if it didn't feel so good. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and the two of you are laying back in his bed again, his arms now wrapped around you and pulling you tight against his body.
A shaky hand reaches up to him, sliding from his stomach to his heart, feeling him up hesitantly. He likes it.
This time, he lets you break the kiss, lets you pull away to look at him and ask, "I can... do this? Will it be ok?"
He looks at you with that perfect smile and nods. And the floodgates open.
Your lips are back on his, the both of you desperately fighting for control of the kiss. He rolls over on top of you and your hands scramble down to undo his belt, gasping for air as you try to keep his lips on yours.
Moments later, he's sinking inside of you with a moan, and you're clawing at his pillow in utter pleasure. Your eyes flutter open to look at him, and that's when you realize, there's the beginning of horns growing out of head, a quick look down has you watching the white color of his pants fade into blackness.
"Simeon..." you whisper.
He just looks at you, hands clenched by the side of your face and keeping him propped up above you. A wry smile this time.
"I would give my whole soul for you," he says softly.
You take his cheek into your hand... and pull him down into another kiss.
Simeon isn't sure how this will go, he isn't sure if he made the right choice. But he does know that he loves the way your hands feel on his horns, holding them for anchor as he thrusts into you, he loves the cries you make when he pulls you down onto his cock, he loves how absolutely cock drunk you get, the way you beg for him, the look on your face makes him want to go again and again and again.
Simeon doesn't have a halo anymore, but your love is the sunshine he needs to light his way.
Summary: After choosing to fall for love, Simeon finds himself struggling to cope. Mammon offers him some advice.
Word Count: 909
“Shut up!” He screamed, hands slamming onto the table, wings flared. Claws marred the wood, deep scores where his grip once held firm. The last semblance of patience silenced with the chatter around the table. All eyes fixed on him, his own widened.
“I’m… I’m sorry. I- Excuse me.” Black sclera fading to white, he stood, fleeing from the dining room. Attention turned to the eldest, expecting him to go after the former angel as he had time and time again. Lucifer stayed seated.
“Give him time. He’ll adjust.” A stoic expression, a sip of coffee. Memories of words wounding more than just pride.
With nothing else to say, the brothers, subdued, finished their breakfast in quiet. Lucifer excused himself first, the distant click of the front door shutting behind him. Eventually they all filtered out, one daring enough to deal with the new addition to the household.
Patience. It used to come so easily. What did the humans say again? Patience is a virtue. He could almost laugh. Anything could set him off now, minor annoyances once tuned out all he could focus on. Grating on him until he snapped. Beelzebub’s open mouth chewing managed it that morning, a new one to add to the list.
They were trying to help him acclimate, really they were. And he was grateful. The list just one of many strategies. Write down what angers you, avoid it until you can bare with it. Satan’s advice came in handy. More so than he cared to admit. Though he found himself failing to follow it. Lapses in rational thought.
It all came at once. The ripping of grace from his essence. The transformation. New senses, new sights. Unknown to angelic eyes. It brought him to his knees. Begging. Pleading for forgiveness. Cries of repentance as feathers greyed and wings became necrotic. Pain like nothing he’d ever known. And he chose it. Simeon chose to fall.
A bitter thought, sad and tired. He had a consolation, he supposed. He didn’t have that far to go. Already down in the Devildom. Already knowing what to expect. Or so he thought. Words couldn’t describe the experience. Not in entirety. It left an absence. A void so deep it couldn’t be filled. An absence of something fundamental.
Anger. Hurt. Resentment. The only things left in its place. He tried to hide it. To pretend. Telling them he’s fine. Telling himself he’s fine. That he made the choice. Free to love who he wanted. But freedom came with a price. Everything. He lost almost everything. Luke. Michael. His home. And he feared, slowly, even himself.
“Simeon?” The door opened, a soft yellow hue cutting through the darkness of the room.
Sat on the bed, his wings cocooned him. Dark grey dipped in murky brown, a pair from six remaining. He didn’t move, didn’t answer right away. Not until the sound of the first footfalls pierced the silence.
“I need to be alone. Just awhile longer.” A muffled plea from beneath the feathers.
A pause. The closing of a door. The creaking of the mattress with added weight.
“Look, yellin’ at breakfast ain’t a rare thing,” Mammon began, trying to lighten the air.
“Someone always starts it, just surprising it was you. We’re not used to you raising your voice. Still pretty tame for a demon, if ya ask me.”
“...Please, just go.” A sigh.
“Alright, I’ll go. But you gotta hear me out first.”
No response. He took that as a yes.
“I know what everyone’s sayin’. It gets better with time. You’ll adjust.” A shuddered breath, the soft rustling of feathers as something shook within. “But I know it’s not that simple.”
Simeon froze. Mammon continued.
“They’re not wrong. You’ll find something to cope eventually, but it ain’t about that. It’s about right now.” He looked down at his hands, twisting a ring on his finger. “I won’t lie to ya, it gets worse before it gets better. But you’re not alone, okay? It’s different for everyone, but we’ve all been there.”
“Some stuff you have to figure out on your own, but the Great Mammon has your back. So do the others.” Mammon shifted in place. Talking about this stuff was hard, letting the honesty, the integrity, breach the surface. He persevered.
“It won’t be easy, ya just gotta push through it. A day at a time. You like writing, don’t cha? Have you tried that? Or reading? That always keeps Satan occupied. If you like that anime stuff I bet Levi would lend ya something. He’s like your number one fan.” A slight chuckle, trying to relieve his tension.
“That’s all I had to say.” Mammon stood, a sigh suppressed. “I guess I’ll be going.”
A hand shot out, grabbing his wrist before he made the first step.
“Mammon, wait.” Surprised, he glanced back. Wings wrapped around him still, Simeon looked at him. Despite the red and puffy eyes, a small smile greeted Mammon.
“Thank you, I… I needed to hear that.” He let go of his wrist, hands folded and placed on his lap.
“’Course. The Great Mammon gives the best advice, ya know? I’ll leave you alone for now, but I’ll come back later with one of Satan’s books. He won’t mind once I tell him who it’s for.”
With a well-intentioned but poorly executed plan in mind, Mammon left to enact it. Simeon laid down on his bed, feeling a little lighter.
Originally I wasn’t planning on posting this here, but a friend of mine convinced me. You can also check it out on ao3!
🔞The following fic is nsfw. Minors dni.🔞
Sacrilege
Summary: Simeon has fallen, but he doesn’t view himself as such. No, given the feelings he has towards you, this could only be an ascension; one beyond anything he had in the Celestial Realm, and anything the Devildom could offer.
Now he serves no one, only you.
His one and only god.
word count: ~5700
⚠️c/w: gore and blood (but Simeon and the reader are fine), yandere!Simeon, sacrilegious themes, blasphemy
Additional note: the reader is gender neutral, and the reader’s genitalia isn’t specified
In ao3, I tagged this with Dead Dove: Do not eat. That still applies here. Make sure you’ve read over the content warnings before proceeding / interacting.
🔞And once again, minors dni.🔞
Falling’s a strange thing, a concept that Simeon never quite understood. It happened to angels who were wicked, those who sought to undo his father’s plan. So they were cut off. From the heavenly host. From their powers. Their wings turned black, and their light faded. Until the only thing left was a darkness, one that sought to consume everything that they once were. They either died or transformed, becoming monsters. Beasts. Demons.
Simeon is none of those things. He didn’t fall to oppose his father, nor did he seek to undo any sort of plan. He’s an author after all, and authors create.
And what could his muse be, other than you?
Your soul is brilliant, a beacon of light amongst everything else in this miserable realm. It took him far too long to see that. But thankfully, his eyes have been opened. And never again shall they shut. In the long span of his existence, he’s seen everything that the universe could offer. Stars. Galaxies. The rise and fall of human civilization itself. Existence itself is always in a state of flux, constantly shifting and warping as things are created and then destroyed.
But you…
You exist beyond that.
Your soul never tarnishes, nor does it fade when things get rough. Instead, it fights. Nails. Fists. Some would say that it’s barbaric, but Simeon had always found it to be beautiful. It’s a philosophy that he’s tried to emulate. Words are meaningless, unless they are used to praise you. So now he resorts to action. And well, the saying is true. So perhaps it’s only natural that he uses it to replace his books, that the tales he creates are no longer works of fiction. No, fantasy has lost all meaning now.
There’s only you.
You have always inspired him. Even now, Simeon can’t help but write poetry about you as he moves. The world that he’s in is dark. Depressing. Very little of it is worthy of being compared to someone as brilliant as you. But that doesn’t prevent him from trying.
Today, he starts with a crumbling city. It’s silence echoes throughout the land, and you are the slight breeze that rushes past his ear. The moon, although unlike its cratered surface, you have no imperfections. No, the dips and grooves along your skin are beautiful. Like the glinting of a knife, the way the metal slices through the air. You have pierced his heart just as easily. But that’s okay, it’s yours after all.
It’s a shame that he can’t carve out his own and give it to you. That despite everything, he is still limited by this corporeal form. But if he were to be anything else, then you wouldn’t be able to look at him. And that would get in the way of his worship.
A god must be able to view their subjects after all.
Besides, this new form is perfect for him. It’s yet another form of his art, a piece that was made specifically for you. His horns. His tail. His cock…
He considered it all. Like a good follower should.
No one else would be able to do that. They are limited by their pathetic mortal frame. Rats. Parasites. They’re unfit to even look upon you. But with another flicker of his knife, they are handled. And he will morph them until something better. Something more suited for you.
The process of creation is a never ending one, especially given the thousands of pieces that he’s working on. Some of them are grand, and others are small. But all of them are for you.
How else would he pay tribute?
There’s a gust of wind. Your arrival is soon. He can sense it. It comes with everything that is right. The sun peaking over the clouds. Starlight reflecting off of a lake. The rippling of water as it reveals the creatures that lurk within its depths. The sound of laughter, followed by the blessed silence that he’s come to adore. That is who you are. An omen of things to come. The others say you are bad, but Simeon knows better. It is impossible for you to be anything other than good.
For you are greater than the heavens, and the earth itself. His father was nothing, but you—
There’s a scream as Simeon feels blunt nails dig into his arm. It’s followed by a shove, and footsteps frantically scrambling away from him.
...How annoying.
His latest sacrifice had just ruined his internal monologue. And it was going to be such a good one too.
What a shame. If only he had a pen and paper nearby…
They don’t travel far. There’s another sound, although this one is a plea. Simeon silences it with a crunch, and tsks when he looks at his hands. That was messier than he had intended, but it looks like no longer needs any ink. An amused chuckle falls from his lips. Would you like that? Poetry written in the blood of your enemies, the very nonbelievers who seek to destroy the world that the two of you are trying to create?
...Perhaps that’s something to try next time. Right now, he has something more important to focus on. He’s still in the process of creation after all, and he’s not finished decorating. Thankfully this… creature (it can’t be a human, for nothing could compare to you) should provide him with the rest of the materials that he needs. So Simeon gets to work.
This too is a form of art, and one he would never have considered before. But he has expanded beyond quills and parchment. Now he builds sculptures out of the very people who would defy you. Those who are unworthy of being graced with your presence. They are broken down, and fashioned into a suitable idol.
Another splash of crimson. The breaking of bones. Wire. Nails. And then it’s done. Your new altar is complete. Simeon takes a step back, appraises his work, and grins.
It’s perfect.
Fresh blood drips off of it, reminding him of rain, the way it softly drizzles and brings life to those around it. This is a form of life as well, one that does nothing but speak of your greatness. The various limbs that have been tacked and strung above it make a rainbow, an icon of the color you have given this dull and drab world. Maybe one day you’ll be able to color it all. But the best part about it is when you stand away, when you view his masterpiece from a distance. It takes the shape of a heart, one that resembles his own. And it exists entirely for you.
The wind picks up, howling in his ears, and he knows that you are here. Once you enter the room, Simeon falls to his knees. He doesn’t have to stay there for long; it’s simply a gesture of formality, one that reminds you of how important you truly are.
“You may rise.”
He follows the command without hesitation. Your voice is a melody. A soothing tone that seeps into his bones and leaves him feeling lighter. It truly is an act of kindness that you’ve allowed him to stand as your equal, if only for a brief moment. But he will be on his knees again soon enough.
He can’t wait.
A sigh falls from your lips once you notice the various remains that litter the floor.
“Those were supposed to be the new recruits. I guess none of them were willing?”
Simeon nods.
“They were all unworthy of you.”
“A shame.” Your eyes then roam over his altar. He awaits your response with trepidation.
...Do you like it?
But as always, there’s no need for him to voice his question. Like the god you are, you already answer it with a grin. Your power, your majesty, truly knows no bounds.
“You’ve found a better use for them though. I’m pleased.”
A shiver runs down Simeon’s spine. Your approval means everything. It is the air that fills up his lungs and allows him to breath. He feels incredibly lucky, to be blessed with such a thing.
It only inspires him to work even harder for what comes next. There is no church here, nor is there a temple. But those measly little things are unneeded. Your body outshines it all.
And that is what he shall worship.
A strike of a bell, and then Simeon kneels before you once as you sit upon your handmade throne. It begins now. Sacrament. He licks his lips in anticipation.
You are an image, perched atop yet another one of his creations. Although this one is his favorite. There’s no flesh or bone, only gold. Treasure that he had stolen from the Celestial Realm and the Devildom alike. Melting it was difficult, but the result was definitely worth it. For now you have a throne, one that suits your majesty.
It makes him feel small, as it should. Your presence is grand, a shining iridescent star amongst the blank canvas that he’s created. And it’s reflected in his eyes once you beckon him forward.
He delicately peels each and every garment off of you, savoring the sight of your body as it’s slowly revealed to him. He’s seen it before, yet you never fail to take his breath away. Every hair, every scar, all of the dips and grooves that make up who you are; Simeon loves it all.
How could he not?
Beauty takes the form of your legs, the way they spread open before him. Magnificent is the sight that greets him, your most intimate parts bare now before his gaze. Adoration is what he feels when you whisper his name and guide his head forward.
And divinity, well... that is what you taste like.
He dives in with enthusiasm. You immediately grab onto his horns, and pull him in closer. Simeon groans. They’re handles after all, ones that he made specifically for you. To tug. To control. He is but a follower, and you are a god. One that will never fail to help him find the right path.
And everything about this, the taste of your essence on his tongue, is right.
Every noise that you make spurs him on. This is what you deserve. The pleasure that courses through your veins. The moans that fall from your lips. It’s a shame that he can’t give you more, not yet at least. One day the world will be yours, but until then… an orgasm will have to do.
You cum with a cry, one that could shake the very heavens itself. A part of him hopes that they've heard you, but the other knows that they are unworthy of such a thing. He laps up each and every drop. It would be a sin to allow any of it to spill. Nothing you create should ever go to waste. Especially when it’s this good.
Once your orgasm ends, he pulls away, giving you a moment to collect yourself. It’s a shame that he cannot taste you forever; that like all good things, it must come to an end. But his worship of you is far from over. No, the two of you have only just begun.
Your eyes meet, and Simeon’s tongue lolls out, wiping away the spare traces of your cum. A chuckle, then you gently pat his head.
“Such a good boy Simeon. You’ve improved.”
Pleasure shoots down his spine the moment you praise him. This is what he’s after. This is the reason he exists. To serve you. To please you. Your fingers begin to run through his hair, and a moan falls from his lips as he leans into your touch.
“You remember what comes next, don’t you?”
Of course. His worship of you is a form of art, one that he has practiced over and over again. Simeon nods, and then finally removes the last of his clothing.
His cock springs free. It’s hard. Leaking. He wants you, as always. But how could he not?
Your visage is the most beautiful thing that he’s ever seen. Your voice rolls through his mind like honey.
He loves you.
It’s normal of course, for a follower to love their god. Yet even the word itself feels unsatisfactory. One day he’ll have to create a new one. But until then, love will have to suffice. Besides, he has better ways to show his devotion. Actions speak louder than words after all. So despite the desire that courses through him, he doesn’t even make an attempt to touch himself. His own pleasure is unimportant. The only thing that matters is you.
So instead he stays on his knees. Where he belongs. He starts with your ankle, placing feather light kisses along each one as his mouth slowly works his way up to your calf. You gasp once he reaches your thighs, and then the next part of sacrament begins: creation.
In the past he created galaxies. Stars. Nebulas. Simeon had the luxury of forming several of them before that task was given to someone else. But thanks to you, he can perform it once more. Only this time the materials are different. Instead of creating constellations in the sky, he makes them on your body.
Today he starts with the Big Dipper. He lightly suckles on your thighs, mapping out each and every star, and once that constellation is done, he moves onto another. Caenis Major. Orion. Cygnus. Your body looks even more breathtaking like this, so he adds a few more. These ones are new, ones that he just made up. They have yet to have a name, but for now… Consecratio will have to do. Perhaps he’ll be able to come up with a more official title for them later.
Your name falls from his lips, along with a moan, and something inside of him slips. He falls even further into your depths. Beautiful. You’re so beautiful. His name never sounded so pretty; but everytime you say it, he can feel his cock begin to swell. He is the one you want. The only being that makes you feel like this, and the only one that ever will.
You are his god.
Blood rushes through him, staining his cheeks, hardening his cock even further. In the haze of his own mind, his mouth parts from your skin, and his fingers enter you instead.
You mewl at the intrusion. This isn’t how things are supposed to go. This step comes later on, yet Simeon can’t wait. He wants to see you cum once more. To hear your praise as he pleasures you beyond your own comprehension.
Perfect. Stunning. Simeon adds another finger, his gaze fixed on your expression and nothing else. Finding that spot within you is easy. He had memorized its location long ago as proof of his devotion. Each and every part of your body has been mapped out, a never ending piece of parchment that he keeps in his head. In truth, Simeon has never been much of a navigator. But your body is the only thing that he needs to know.
You moan once again. You’re close, Simeon can feel it. Although he’s neglected to take his own pleasure into account. He’s close as well.
Simeon hasn’t even laid a hand on himself, yet his own noises grow louder. Every gasp. Every groan. Knowing that he’s able to do this to you spurs him on, his cock aching from how much it desires you. Yet your image drowns all of that out.
His peak arrives, but he never gets to fully reach it. Instead, your hand clenches around the base of his cock, preventing him from cumming.
“You’re getting ahead of yourself. Recite your scripture as punishment.”
His labored breathing echoes across the room, and Simeon’s eyes widen once he realizes his mistake. He was being selfish, allowing his own pleasure to get in the way of yours. Lust is a vise that he should have had better control of. He was a fool to let it get in the way of his love, so he accepts your punishment with grace.
Magic soon replaces your hand, creating a cockring that now leaves your fingers free to move up and down along his shaft. His breathing stutters, but he’s thankful for the intervention. More of your magic curls around his body, brushing up against his skin. It’s a sign of what’s to come, yet he shoves that excitement aside, or tries to at least.
Simeon frowns. The cockring was sorely needed. It makes sure that he doesn’t forget about what’s truly important. No matter what, he isn’t allowed to cum before you. The only sin that exists is putting his pleasure before your own.
Yes, he deserves to be punished for this. His devotion towards you never should have wavered.
So he opens his mouth, and speaks; his voice not faltering despite the way your hand moves across his shaft.
“The steadfast love of you, my god, never ceases. Your mercies never come to an end. They are new every morning.”
You press one of your fingers against his slit, smearing some of his precum along the head of his cock. A shudder runs down Simeon’s spine. Your touch is a blessing, one that he can never get enough of. But he cannot focus on it.
No. The pleasure is unimportant. You must be worshipped.
“There’s no greater love other than this: to lay down my life for you.”
He focuses on the words instead, and on everything that they entail. He would gladly die for you. In both this timeline, and any of the other ones that follow. The universe is full of constants: gravity, matter, humanity itself, and the devotion that he feels towards you. Those are all things that shall exist in every universe.
No matter what, Simeon loves you. And he will die and fall as many times as he needs in order to prove it. Although he’s never met any of his alternate selves, he already knows that it’s true. His love cannot be contained in any vessel. It flows throughout time and space, and every spec of it is dedicated towards you and you alone.
Your hand leaves his cock. Simeon feels it twitch under the absence of your touch. A part of him wants to whine, but he holds that in. He refuses to sin once more, to tarnish his reputation as your most devout follower. So he simply continues reciting the words that he’s come to know by heart.
Indeed, you’re no longer stroking him. But that’s only because your hands have wondered elsewhere. A finger traces the rim of his ass, and it doesn’t take Simeon long to put two and two together.
Ah. He had never—
You enter him. Slowly but surely, although there’s no resistance. Another one quickly joins it. Your fingers are slick from his precum and some of your own spit, not to mention your magic…
It widens him, making lube unnecessary. Not that he would ask for any. No, he’s being punished right now. This is simply another example of your benevolence.
The feeling is strange, but he continues.
“I give thanks to you, for everything about you is good. Our love endures forever.”
Your fingers haven’t stopped moving. They’re searching around for something, although Simeon doesn’t know what you're looking for. There’s nothing left of him to find. You have seen it all.
“And I know that in all things, you do good for those who love you, who have been called according to your purpose.”
And then you brush up against a spot inside of him, one that has him seeing stars. He’s unable to stop the surprised “Oh!” that falls from his mouth, or the way he tries to fuck himself on your hand. Thankfully that was the last verse, so there’s no harm in letting another mewl spill from his throat.
You laugh. It’s a beautiful sound, one that Simeon is blessed to hear.
“What a good little follower. If you beg for me, I’ll let you cum.”
He wants to. To immediately get on his knees and beg for you to fuck him, as you take away the last shred of innocence that he has.
Ah, but take isn’t the right word.
Give. He would give it all to you. That purity is nothing more than a cocoon, one he’s been working on shedding himself of. It only gets in the way of loving you. Besides, how could he perform his tasks if he was worried about heaven’s definition of sin? No, there’s too much work to be done. And what he’s doing is okay. You’ve told him so.
Submitting to the desire that's coursing through him would be easy, but this is a test. One that he refuses to fail. Worshiping you takes precedence. It always does.
“No. I wish to pick up where we left off. My only desire is to pleasure you.”
You flash him a smile, one more brilliant than the sun.
“Your devotion truly is admirable. We’ll begin our worship again shortly. But first, I’m going to fuck you like this, okay?
Remember the feeling of my fingers Simeon. Because next time, you’re going to cum around them and nothing else. Do you understand?”
Next time. He’ll be ready then. And you will finally own all of him.
He can’t wait.
“Yes, my beloved. I’ll do as you ask.”
You hum in approval, and then your fingers start moving once more. Pleasure courses through him, and he bites his lip as he smothers his gasp. You are everything. This is everything.
“I don’t want you to hold back Simeon. Let me hear you.”
Of course. This is a form of devotion too.
How could he have forgotten that?
A high pitched moan immediately falls from his lips. Words are hard, but Simeon still manages to speak. You wanted to hear his voice after all.
“G—Good. So good.”
Another finger gets added. Somehow the pleasure increases. His cock aches. It’s hard and weeping, yet he doesn’t care. The pleasure that you have shown him outshines it all. And he never wants this moment to end.
His mind is slowly becoming blank, the fog of lust threatening to consume his every thought. But Simeon shoves it all aside. Vocal. He has to focus on being vocal.
You briefly pull out. A fourth finger teases at his entrance, and your voice coos into his ear, “Can you handle more?”
More. The possibility excites him. He had no idea that it was an option. But he will do it. Of course he will. As your follower, it’s his duty to handle every inch of you. That’s why he created this vessel in the first place. And Simeon leaps at each and every opportunity to put it to the test.
He has to think, to piece the fragile bits of his mind together in order to form a response. But as soon as he comes close to making one, the magical ring around his cock vibrates. It’s slow, a low thrum that’s incredibly unsatisfying, yet it leaves him shivering all the same.
It’s a warning. He still can’t cum after all, and unless he performs well… he may never be able to. A response. You need one now.
“Fuck. Y-Yes I can handle more.”
And like the benevolent god you are, you give him exactly that. Yes, you’re so wide inside of him. He didn’t even know that it was possible to feel this full. That his body could accommodate this much. And the fact that one of your limbs is inside of him...
Simeon keens.
Truly, he’s unworthy of such a thing. Your fingers, your hand, should be elsewhere. That you would even consider touching him there is already enough to make him cum. Thankfully the cockring is still in place, so the pleasure never has to end.
He focuses on the shape of your hand, the dip and groove of each finger; the way it scrapes against his walls as you slam into him. Your pace is rough. Brutal. Heavenly. His mind goes hazy underneath it all. No. He can’t let this consume him. This is only a preview of what’s to come, and you are gracious enough to give it to him.
It’s another test. But this one… Oh, this one is his favorite.
Another wave of pleasure. He’s a shivering mess, one that can do nothing more than scream for you. Time itself has no meaning. There’s only this; the fullness that you provide, and the love behind each and every gesture that you make. He mewls out your name once more, and then it’s over.
He’s repented for his mistakes.
Your fingers… no it was your fist, pulls out of him. Simeon briefly whines at the loss. He falls to the floor, and then you place that very same hand in front of his lips. He lavishes it with kisses, and groans.
More. He needs more.
And he knows that there will be more to come. It’s all a part of his worship after all. The taste of your inevitable union will be even stronger, richer. This is but a treat, a kind dessert that you have gifted him. The real meal comes later on. But Simeon is willing to wait. Once he’s finished lapping at your hands, he moves to your altar and lays himself upon it.
This is his final offering. His body is yours to use as you see fit.
You get up. Although Simeon cannot see it, he hears your bare feet walking across the abandoned chapel’s floor. There is no choir, but the ex-angel wants to sing when you impale yourself upon him.
A purr leaves your throat.
“You feel perfect.”
He’s glad. Like his horns, his cock is made for you. Every ridge, every bump, was created to maximize your pleasure. No toy will ever compare. Simeon made sure of that.
You begin to move. He allows you to set the pace as his nails dig into your thigh. Perfect. You fit perfectly around him. He feels an incredible amount of pride as you gasp and moan with the rise and fall of your hips. Out of all of the offerings that he’s made, his mortal form is definitely the best. The flush of your cheeks proves it.
The magic around his cock finally loosens, and you clench around him. Simeon’s climax quickly follows your own. The tangling of tongues. The squirting of cum. He finished inside of you, but you don’t remain on his softening cock for long. No, you pull yourself off of him, and Simeon watches as his cum flows out of you.
He licks his lips. This is it. The moment that he’s been waiting for. His favorite part of worship.
Your voice is a command, one that never fails to send a shiver down his spine.
“Clean up.”
He immediately begins lapping at your dripping hole. The taste of your cum has melded into his own. Your union has created this, the most delicious thing that Simeon has ever consumed. The essence of a god flows into his mouth, along with the proof that he was the one who had pleasured you. And now it is inside of him. A bond that cannot be broken.
He hungers for more.
Simeon lewdly moans as his tongue reaches deeper and deeper into you, searching for every bit of his cum that he can find. Noises fall from your mouth, but like always, he drowns them out with his own. This is a feast, one that the Celestial Realm could never recreate. Their food pales in comparison. Simeon doesn’t understand how he was able to stomach it before.
Another orgasm ripples through you, and he keens as he consumes each and every drop. Were he in a more poetic mood, he would compare it to ambrosia, but he can write verses about you another time. Instead, he focuses on completing this final act. It doesn’t take long. Once he’s thoroughly licked every trace of cum off your body, he pulls away with a grin. You pat his head, and Simeon hums as he leans into your touch.
“I love you.”
The words sound beautiful coming from your mouth. It’s something that you’ve said before. A sentence that led to this exact moment, and many others like it. Yet he’ll never tire of hearing it, of knowing that he has earned those very words time and time again.
“I love you as well. My god. My beloved. And one day, the world will love you too.”
The two of you embrace. And in your arms, Simeon comes up with ideas for his next altar. It’s sure to take everyone’s breath away. It’ll be bigger than the last one. More limbs. More blood. Wires. Nails—
Ah, he’s already getting excited.
It’s amazing; how quickly you inspire him, and all it takes is a hug. You truly are an excellent muse, one that he hopes to be completely worthy of someday. But until then, he is simply an author. An artist. One that exists to worship you.
Eventually you take your leave. There’s work to be done after all, especially for a god such as yourself. And although Simeon longs for your embrace… that just makes it more precious when it actually occurs. Besides, he wants his creations to be a surprise, and it’s impossible for that to happen if you’re looking over his shoulder. So the two of you part. And like the quiet whisper of the wind, you’re gone.
The silence doesn’t last long. It’s interrupted by the ringing of his phone. A number shows up on his screen, one that he hadn’t seen in an incredibly long time. He had tried to block it ages ago, but eventually gave up. Technology still confuses him.
...Some things never quite change.
He accepts the call, and Lucifer’s voice greets him.
“Simeon.”
He hadn’t heard it in awhile. The man’s tone sounds deeper than he remembered, and it’s entirely different from your own. The contrast throws him for a loop, if only briefly. Simeon clears his throat. For some reason he doesn’t hang up.
“Yes?”
“This has to stop. The two of you are upsetting the balance. If this continues, then Lord Diavolo will intervene.”
A threat. Of course that would be why he called.
But Simeon doesn’t care. No one can stop either of you, including the most powerful demons in the Devildom. Your love transcends beyond that.
...It’s a shame that Lucifer still is unable to comprehend what the two of you are trying to achieve.
A part of Simeon can’t help but feel disappointed at the reminder.
“Perhaps he’ll join us. You’re welcome to as well, of course.”
“No. What your doing is wrong. You know that, don’t you?”
“I’m simply serving my god.”
“They are just a human, Simeon. And can easily be replaced. There are billions—“
Anger rushes through him; the intensity of it causing him to crack his phone’s screen. His grip loosens, but the rage still festers within him.
How dare he.
“Watch your tongue, lest I rip it out of you next time we meet.”
A pause. The silence seems awkward, sad almost. Lucifer eventually breaks it.
“...I see I am too late. The others are right. You have fallen. And unlike me, you’ve had no family to help put you back together again.”
“I don’t need one. I have my god, and they have been by my side through thick and thin. What have you done for me, Lucifer?”
Silence. No other answer is needed.
After a minute or two Lucifer sighs.
“I must report my failure to Lord Diavolo. You have exactly 48 hours before he arrives. Use them wisely.”
There’s a click, and then the number vanishes from his screen. Lucifer must have hung up. Yet his words echo around in Simeon’s head.
You have fallen.
It makes him want to laugh. There is nothing wrong about this. The love that he feels towards you cannot be tainted, nor will it ever waver. For you have given him something that he’s never had before: Freedom. From the Celestial Realm, from his boring day to day life. Simeon had not truly lived until he abandoned it all in favor of following you.
No, this was an ascension. One that everyone is too foolish to understand. And Diavolo seeks to destroy everything that you’ve built. But that’s okay, Simeon has a plan.
A few magic circles… some stolen holy relics… and even the future Demon King can be captured. So when he comes, Simeon will be ready, and the foolish prince will walk right into a trap.
A manic giggle bursts from his mouth.
This is perfect.
Diavolo will be made to see, like so many others before him. It’s impossible not to after all, given how grand you are. Ah, but Simeon will deny him the privilege of serving you. No matter what, you will only ever have one follower. Diavolo can beg and plead as much as he likes, but he will never get to feel your touch. He hasn’t earned the right, and he never will. Once he has served his purpose, he will be disposed of, just like the rest.
Simeon grins. In truth, The world doesn’t even need to have people in it. A god does not require subjects in order to be considered such.
So why bother expanding your little cult, when no one else will ever be able to serve you like him?
You are his. His human. His god. His everything.
And no one is going to get in the way of that. This realm will be made into something that is worthy of you, even if he has empty it himself.
But once every single creature is gone, and he is the only being left...
Then the world truly will love you, won’t it?
📂 Any ones for simeon?? Specifically fallen simeon???
Would you believe this is my third time writing this? Tumblr said my headcanons are wrong and cannot be posted.
Spoiler Warning: Mentions of things that happen later in season one, I think around lesson 15/16.
I find it hard to picture Simeon falling, in the same way that I struggle to consider why he is an angel and what keeps him there despite loving the brothers (especially Lucifer) as much as he does, and holding no qualms against the demons in the Demon Realm, or to consider what actually separates demons and angels now that Diavolo is in charge and is trying to unify the realms.
The basic answer to it all is that an angel is who he’s always been. It suits his nature - they’re taught, as angels, that demons are horrible things who cause harm for the fun of it, perhaps creatures who wage wars against humans and angels alike, who would betray those around them and even their father who created them for their own desires. Dare I say, angels are almost brainwashed into believing demons are horrible things, and whilst Simeon doesn’t seem to believe it, still accepts people and welcomes them with open arms (he isn’t judgemental of the brothers, knows they’re still good people and they’re still the brothers he knows, even if they’re done things in later years that he might not necessarily agree with or do himself), there’s a chance he did believe it back when it mattered (consider Lucifer’s reaction when he first meets Diavolo, how disgusted and horrified he is). He was younger then, and his family was fighting, and he had to pick a side for better or worse, so he stuck with what he knew.
But Simeon as a demon? If he does fall, I don’t even think its hard. His nature is relatively unchanged, although perhaps he’s less engaged with the world. He doesn’t shut himself off like Levi, but just spends his time on himself, doing what he wants to, and generally ‘lazing about’. He has no interest in causing harm, would rather spend time writing or watching movies or doing things considered unproductive, maybe spending time with people he cares a lot about. He starts putting himself first (note: Simeon doesn’t put others before him anyway, he tends to view people as being relatively equal to him).
All in all? I think Simeon is more dedicated to changing things without sacrificing himself and his life for it. He’ll work to help Diavolo with unifying the realms because its something he believes in, and he’ll work to convince Michael and maybe even God that it’s something worthwhile for them to, that its a good thing. You might not know it, and he’ll likely never get recognised, but Simeon works hard behind the scenes to make things come to fruition without ever giving up who he is for it, keeping in mind what he believes in, and still loving and believing in everyone around him.
And, if he does fall? Well, its hard to say what its for, but it has to be something he believes in with all his being. And I don’t think a person would be that for him, because even as loving and caring as he is, I don’t think Simeon loses sight of his goals and what the end result of things will end up being.
