Doting Demon Lord

<center><img src="https://vatnalilja.neocities.org/images/diavolo.jpg" width="85%" alt="" /> ##The Doting Demon Lord an explicit Diavolo/Reader fiction Take time to enjoy Lord Diavolo's company. F/M, 2nd Person POV (You/Your), Reader Insert, Reader Input Variables [[Start->Options]]</<center>

What you enter will show up in the rest of the piece, so make sure you capitalize correctly. What is your character's first name? <input type="text" data-varname="firstname"> What is your character's hair color? (lowercase) <input type="text" data-varname="haircolor"> What is your character's hair length? (short, chin-length, long, etc.) (lowercase) <input type="text" data-varname="hairlength"> What color are your character's eyes? (lowercase) <input type="text" data-varname="eyecolor"> (link-goto: "Done", "aPlayer") <script>processInputElements();</script>

''This is what you entered:'' First name: $firstname Hair color: $haircolor Hair length: $hairlength Eye color: $eyecolor ''Example:'' <blockquote>You run your hand through your $hairlength $haircolor hair, your $eyecolor eyes locked on Mammon across the dining room table. "Whatchya starin' at, $firstname," he asks, his cheeks tinged pink.</blockquote>\ If that looks correct, please [[Start Here->Page One]]. If ''not'', please [[click here|Options]] to re-enter the information. (I don't keep or have any access to any information you enter.)

You sit on a common room sofa opposite Satan, who is engrossed in an old tome, his foot crossed over his knee. The book you hold is a much newer mystery novel, also from his private collection—a recommendation he offered when you mentioned you needed something to read. It only requires a certain amount of your attention, so you can tell when his eyes flick to you periodically, landing on your bare legs. The short, pleated skirt you wear does little to hide them, especially when you're sitting. He taps his fingers on the pages of his book and clears his throat, but you don't look up. Instead, you shift your legs and brush your fingers through your $hairlength $haircolor hair. He drops his foot to the floor, closes his book, and stares straight at you. "$firstname." At that moment, your D.D.D. chirps on the sofa cushion next to you, and in the interest of toying with him longer, you pick it up to examine the alert. <center>[[<img src="http://i.imgur.com/LYlVkpv.png" width="100" height="" alt="» Tap «" />->Page Two]]</center>

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(align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[(If you're on a mobile device, turn it sideways.)]<phone> <messagebody><headerlu></headerlu><br><br><br><br> <text>Come to my office.</text> <footer></footer></messagebody></phone> <center>[[<a href="#pagethree" ><img src="http://i.imgur.com/LYlVkpv.png" width="100" height="" alt="» Tap «" /></a>->Page Three]]</center>

<phone> <messagebody><headerlu></headerlu><br><br> <text>Come to my office.</text> <text>I have something I'd like you to deliver to Lord Diavolo.</text> <footer></footer></messagebody></phone> <center>[[<a href="#pagethreee" ><img src="http://i.imgur.com/LYlVkpv.png" width="100" height="" alt="» Tap «" />->Page Four]]</center>

(align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[(Read in whatever orientation you prefer.)]\ You hold up your mobile for Satan to see and give him an apologetic smile. "Tell him no," Satan says with a shrug. "If anyone can get away with it, you can." A sharp laugh escapes you before you can squelch it. Satan's not wrong, but he's not entirely correct, either. You've been subject to Lucifer's unending lectures after being caught in the brothers' misdeeds, but Lucifer also has a series of //punishments// he reserves for you when the two of you are alone. <center><desktop-display>[[<button>Sure, and I’ll tell him it was your idea.</button>->Page Five]] [[<button>How much of a masochist do you think I am?</button>->Page Five]]</desktop-display></center><tablet-display>[[<button>Sure, and I’ll tell him it was your idea.</button>->Page Five]] [[<button>How much of a masochist do you think I am?</button>->Page Five]]</tablet-display><mobile-display>[[<mobbutton>Sure, and I’ll tell him it was your idea.</mobbutton>->Page Five]] [[<mobbutton>How much of a masochist do you think I am?</mobbutton>->Page Five]]</mobile-display><fold-display>[[<fobbutton>Sure, and I’ll tell him it was your idea.</fobbutton>->Page Five]] [[<fobbutton>How much of a masochist do you think I am?</fobbutton>->Page Five]]</fold-display>

You stand and ruffle your skirt, making sure it's in place before tucking your book under your arm and exiting the common room. Satan's eyes follow you the entire way as you go, encouraging you to pop your steps as you head through the doorway, flouncing your skirt an extra several inches. It's a bit unfair, and you know it. You find Lucifer at his desk in his private study, his forehead resting in his hand as he writes with his dip pen, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. He is wearing his glasses, a sure sign he is concentrating. You've always wondered why a demon would need glasses, but he is so handsome in them that you haven't asked. You've also always wondered why there's so much paperwork in the Devildom—it seems endless. He lifts his head as you close the door behind you as gently as possible, then sighs and reclines in his chair. He spins his pen in his fingers once before resting it in its holder, then picks up a leather-bound folio and holds it out until you realize it must be the item for delivery. You pass the fireplace and reach for the documents, but he retracts them, sliding his chair back from the desk. With a bare hand, he pats his thigh, his dour expression changing. The exhaustion retreats from his face now that he has apparently found something to entertain him. Deciding to be compliant for the time being, you sit sideways on his lap, and he hands you the folio. He drifts his hand under your skirt and squeezes your upper thigh, his grip a little //too// tight. You haven't done anything at all, yet you still feel like you're in trouble, which makes your heart nearly pound through your chest with excitement. "Deliver this quickly," he says. "Do your best to not let him keep you." You nod once, your face growing warm as his fingers trail along your inner thigh, grazing your skin without moving too far up. "The longer it takes you to return, the... harder it will be for you later. Do we have an understanding?" he asks, his deep voice ominous. You nod again, knowing if you tried to talk right now, you'd squeak instead. You clutch the folio between your hands, tucking it under your chin, and stare into his red eyes. If you can hold his gaze long enough, you might be able to get him to blush in return. He extends his arm, pointing toward the door. No such luck. You slip off his lap, and his hand lingers under your skirt as you step away. As you exit through the library, you realize you have been set up to fail. The instant you arrive at the Demon Lord's Castle, Diavolo will distract you with a million offers. The first will be tea, followed by dinner, which you would be foolish to refuse. You flap the folio against your legs as you picture Diavolo's puppy dog eyes as he asks you to stay the night. Lucifer knows you won't say no. You fetch the book you left behind on a table outside his office and head toward your bedroom. There, you tidy up and attempt to do something with your hair. You try on several pairs of shoes before returning to your first pair and stand in front of the mirror, your hands on your hips as you assess your appearance. Diavolo won't care, and if you seem dissatisfied, he'll threaten to take you clothes shopping. As it stands, your next two nights are already planned out for you, and they won't be anything alike. <center>[[<img src="http://i.imgur.com/LYlVkpv.png" width="100" height="" alt="» Tap «" />->Page Six]]</center>

Barbatos ushers you into Diavolo's study, where the Demon Lord is doing anything but his work. The stacks of paper have grown since the last time you were here, and the redhead seems glum about it, flicking the dog-eared corner of the form in front of him. As you enter, however, his golden eyes light up as if he has received the greatest gift possible. "$firstname! To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asks, bumping his desk as he stands. You show him the folio with a smile, beaming like a ray of light in the eternally dark Devildom. <center><desktop-display>[[<button>Delivery from Lucifer.</button>->Page Seven]] [[<button>You didn’t know I was coming?</button>->Page Seven]]</desktop-display></center><tablet-display>[[<button>Delivery from Lucifer.</button>->Page Seven]] [[<button>You didn’t know I was coming?</button>->Page Seven]]</tablet-display><mobile-display>[[<mobbutton>Delivery from Lucifer.</mobbutton>->Page Seven]] [[<mobbutton>You didn’t know I was coming?</mobbutton>->Page Seven]]</mobile-display><fold-display>[[<fobbutton>Delivery from Lucifer.</fobbutton>->Page Seven]] [[<fobbutton>You didn’t know I was coming?</fobbutton>->Page Seven]]</fold-display>

"I thought he'd send someone else with these," Diavolo says. He rounds the desk, takes the documents from you, and then sets them aside without looking through them. Whatever's inside isn't as important to him as your presence. He slides a hand along your back and escorts you toward two tall, red-velvet wingback chairs. "Could we have some tea, Barbatos?" he asks. "Of course," Barbatos replies and disappears before you can protest. Once you sit, Diavolo grins in your direction as he leans on the armrest of his chair. You don't know what else to do, so you begin recounting a story of something boneheaded Mammon did earlier in the week. Before long, Barbatos returns with a tray of tea and serves you with a knowing look. "Should I lay out another setting for dinner tonight?" he asks. "Of course," Diavolo says. "You'll stay, won't you? I don't want to speak for you, but you're always welcome." <center><desktop-display>[[<button>I’d love to spend more time with you.</button>->Page Eight]] [[<button>I wouldn’t miss Barbatos’s cooking for all the kingdoms.</button>->Page Eight]]</desktop-display></center><tablet-display>[[<button>I’d love to spend more time with you.</button>->Page Eight]] [[<button>I wouldn’t miss Barbatos’s cooking for all the kingdoms.</button>->Page Eight]]</tablet-display><mobile-display>[[<mobbutton>I’d love to spend more time with you.</mobbutton>->Page Eight]] [[<mobbutton>I wouldn’t miss Barbatos’s cooking for all the kingdoms.</mobbutton>->Page Eight]]</mobile-display><fold-display>[[<fobbutton>I’d love to spend more time with you.</fobbutton>->Page Eight]] [[<fobbutton>I wouldn’t miss Barbatos’s cooking for all the kingdoms.</fobbutton>->Page Eight]]</fold-display>

"It's settled then," Diavolo says, pleased with your response. Barbatos nods and hands you your teacup, then excuses himself. You lift the cup to your nose and let the tea's fragrance wash over you. It reminds you of cardamom, strong and pungent with a heavy spice profile. You take your first sip and glance at Diavolo, who appears to be happy watching you, holding his own tea while it cools. "We can do anything you like while you're here," he says. "My treat. I still owe you so much after everything you did for my birthday." You wave your hand in dismissal, thinking of the pile of coupons he had made and you had yet to redeem. They are completely unnecessary—you can ask him for anything, and he will see to it in the blink of an eye. He is the Future King of the Devildom and dotes on you as if you were royalty yourself. He sets his cup on the tea table in front of you and stands, moving toward the door, where he removes his academy jacket for the day, revealing his black shirt and pants beneath. One unfortunate downside of his long academy uniform is it hides his ass, or more specifically, it hides how his gorgeous, toned ass rounds out the seat of his pants. After hanging his jacket, he turns to you and fixes his sleeves, giving you a chance to adjust your gaze upward. "Much better," he says. He slides back into his chair and sips his tea. "What would you like to do until dinner is ready?" he asks. You have a dozen ideas and they all involve his backside, but you're not sure there's enough time before dinner. You hum in thought and set down your empty teacup, eyeing his desk. It is astounding how much paperwork he has, and here you are, distracting him from it. He follows your gaze and sighs. "Though he's being kind right now, I'm due for a lecture from Barbatos tomorrow for not making a dent in that," he says. <center><desktop-display>[[<button>How much more can you get done before dinner?</button>->Page Nine]] [[<button>Maybe there’s a way to incentivize you...</button>->Page Nine]]</desktop-display></center><tablet-display>[[<button>How much more can you get done before dinner?</button>->Page Nine]] [[<button>Maybe there’s a way to incentivize you...</button>->Page Nine]]</tablet-display><mobile-display>[[<mobbutton>How much more can you get done before dinner?</mobbutton>->Page Nine]] [[<mobbutton>Maybe there’s a way to incentivize you...</mobbutton>->Page Nine]]</mobile-display><fold-display>[[<fobbutton>How much more can you get done before dinner?</fobbutton>->Page Nine]] [[<fobbutton>Maybe there’s a way to incentivize you...</fobbutton>->Page Nine]]</fold-display>

"There's only an hour until dinner is served," he says. You smooth a crease in your skirt and cross your legs, being purposefully careless with how much you reveal in the process. His golden eyes widen and he finishes the rest of his tea in one final drink before he sets it in its saucer. You raise your brow with a smirk as he hurries to his desk and takes a seat. He grabs his pen and picks up where he left off hours ago, working with precision and diligence. You pull out your D.D.D. and take note of the time. After thirty minutes, you stroll to the opposite side of his desk and put your hand on his, leaning in to get his attention. He is so deep in his work that he fails to notice your approach. Upon realizing feeling your touch, his head snaps up, and he is surprised to see you standing there. Now that he's freed from his fugue, you circle his desk and sit on its edge by him. He laughs and shoves the paperwork aside, then puts his hands on your hips and, with your help, moves you until you sit on the center edge of the desk, your feet resting on the outer parts of his chair. He sets his hands on the tops of your thighs, over your skirt, but uses the heels of his palms to push the cloth upward bit by bit as he flashes his brilliant smile up at you. "You are mischievous," he says. "There isn't enough time for this, but that doesn't mean we're going to stop." He gets to his feet and sweeps you into an exuberant kiss. You wrap your feet around the back of his legs and let the moment carry you away as he drives his body against yours, his erection grinding against you through his pants. Your ass is barely on the desk at this point, but he holds you tight enough that you remain steady. "You are stunning," he whispers into your ear. He leans you backward, but an ill-calculated move sends a stack of books and paper crashing to the ground. You stop what you're doing, and he stares at the mess the two of you have made, grimacing. After a beat, you both laugh as he helps sit you up. Dinner will be ready any minute, and if you work together, you can at least get the pile on his desk, even if it isn't in the correct order. <center>[[<img src="http://i.imgur.com/LYlVkpv.png" width="100" height="" alt="» Tap «" />->Page Ten]]</desktop-display></center>

Diavolo claps his hands once as you stroll down the hallway after dinner, then looks at you at his side. The meal was delicious, but the two of you have been counting the minutes until you can finish what you had started in his study. You know he spent the entire time considering what he would do with you next, and you have a distinct feeling you aren't headed straight to his bedroom. "The moon is beautiful tonight," he says. He takes you by the hand and accompanies you through several doors, outside to the garden where the aforementioned moon hangs above you, nearly full and bright in the cloudless night sky. After leading you to a patch of soft grass, he sits, and you do the same, stretching your legs out in front of you. "I'd love it if you stayed," he says. He is a gentleman in his request, but his eyes are pleading for you not to go. His smile is gone, and the shape of his mouth now conveys his worry you'll say no. You hadn't planned on refusing him, but the briefest thought of leaving after seeing his face makes you feel like a criminal. You nod, moving in closer to his chest. As soon as you are close enough, he grazes his lips across yours, giving you a soft kiss. You reach out for his necktie and undo the knot, sliding it from beneath the collar of his black shirt. He is patient, letting you unbutton his shirt, his eyes following your every move. You untuck his shirt from his pants, slip it from his arms, and then stop to appreciate his bare chest. He is broad-shouldered, and though his waist narrows significantly, his figure is still far more muscular than his uniform hints. He lays you in the grass and stares at you for a few seconds before removing your shirt. With less sure hands, he fumbles with your bra, which is all the more charming. Once it is removed, he rests his hand on your stomach and continues to marvel at you lying in the moonlight for long enough that you feel your face flush. "Would you be frightened if I used my true form?" he asks. <center><desktop-display>[[<button>Not if you keep looking at me like that.</button>->Page Eleven]] [[<button>If by “frightened,” do you mean aroused?</button>->Page Eleven]]</desktop-display></center><tablet-display>[[<button>Not if you keep looking at me like that.</button>->Page Eleven]] [[<button>If by “frightened,” do you mean aroused?</button>->Page Eleven]]</tablet-display><mobile-display>[[<mobbutton>Not if you keep looking at me like that.</mobbutton>->Page Eleven]] [[<mobbutton>If by “frightened,” do you mean aroused?</mobbutton>->Page Eleven]]</mobile-display><fold-display>[[<fobbutton>Not if you keep looking at me like that.</fobbutton>->Page Eleven]] [[<fobbutton>If by “frightened,” do you mean aroused?</fobbutton>->Page Eleven]]</fold-display>

He laughs, his fingertips squeezing your belly slightly. "You're not afraid of anything, are you?" He lowers his face to yours to give you another kiss, this one long, meandering. When you next open your eyes, you see his skin has become a rich, taupe brown, his chest marked by black, looping lines that continue onto his back. His red and black gilded horns are more beautiful than terrifying. "The way you look at me...," he breathes. "I wish you'd stay here with me." His hand wanders to your skirt and he searches for the fastener. You eventually help him, tugging it from your hips, along with everything else, leaving you lying nude under his longing gaze. He explores your body with his hands, which he runs along your skin, touching everything he possibly can. You murmur as he fans his fingers over your breasts, teasing your nipples with the lightest caress. When the teasing becomes too much, you grasp his hand and sit up, enjoying the startled expression on his face. He laughs again as you push him into the grass, onto his wings. You press your lips against his collarbone, then trail your kiss down the center of his chest to his abdomen, concentrating on his navel as you unbuckle his belt. Without delay, you have his pants around his thighs and his erection in your hand, earning a groan from him. "By all means, do as you please," he mutters. You stroke him as you move your mouth to his hip bone, giving it a gentle nip. When he inhales sharply, you spend more time there, brushing your lips across his skin before moving to the opposite side. Before long, he is thrusting himself up into your hand. The way he reacts to you has your heart racing, and you realize how excited you've become. You finish undressing him, and once he is free from his clothes, he grabs you and lays you on your side, devouring you with another kiss. After breaking away, he lifts your upper leg and straddles your lower leg. With his cock in his hand, he runs his head through your slick labia, prodding it against your swollen clit until your $eyecolor eyes flutter and you moan. He guides his head to your slit and nudges himself inside you, leaning his weight into your body. His first few thrusts are shallow, giving you a little more each time. Your eyes round as he buries himself inside you completely, and you reach up, putting your hand on his chest. "Is that too much?" he asks, seeing the surprise on your face. You shake your head—even if it is now, it won't be after you relax further. Relieved by your reaction, he gives you a few moments, then grabs onto your hip and begins rolling himself against you, watching you the entire time. You prop your head in your hand and admire him as he moves, his motions smooth and unbroken. It's almost unreal how majestic he looks against the starry night sky. It's equally unbelievable how good he feels as he flows in and out of you. "You are beautiful in the moonlight," he says, his voice dreamier than usual. You cover your face to hide the awkward smile his compliment coaxes from you. His earnest, honeyed words are a stark change from the chaotic, noisy, and sometimes downright antagonistic behavior to which you’ve grown accustomed. "I love seeing every face you make," he continues. "Although there's one, in particular, I'd love to see right now." You clutch your hand to your face tighter for a second, then lower it to look at him, shooting him an impish grin. He takes that as a sign and plunges into you with more intensity until you make all sorts of incoherent noises. You can no longer hold up your head, your arm dropping to the grass as you bounce under his momentum. After several minutes, he shifts you onto your back and climbs between your legs. He's left you throbbing, and when his fingers find your clit, you whimper with urgency. He leans over you as he rubs your bud, his eyes scanning your face as it twitches in reaction to his touch. His hand speeds up until you wail gibberish, but he doesn't stop after you come. Your writhing beneath him becomes more intense as you try to escape him, but he won't let you go. Your cries of pleasure become pleas for him to stop as you grip his shoulders, the sensation too much as it jolts through your body. He covers your mouth with a kiss, then finally withdraws his hand, replacing it in an instant with his cock. He drives himself inside you and wraps his arms around your waist, his tongue exploring your mouth in zealous passion. You whine into his kiss, your body shaking from the intensity of his attention. His head lifts, and his mouth drops open as he roars with a fury you've never heard from him before. His four wings unfurl, expanding and blotting out the moon and the stars until all you can see is darkness. His fingers grip your skin, and his head drops as he pants, sweat dripping from his brow onto your chest. His golden eyes find yours, and he's overcome with worry when he sees your face. You realize you must look stunned by what just happened, so you quickly smile and run a hand through his dark red hair. "Did I scare you?" he asks, his wings curling toward his body. <center><desktop-display>[[<button>Yes, but… I liked it. As in LIKED it.</button>->Page Twelve]] [[<button>No. Princes of hell are //precisely// my thing.</button>->Page Twelve]]</desktop-display></center><tablet-display>[[<button>Yes, but… I liked it. As in LIKED it.</button>->Page Twelve]] [[<button>No. Princes of hell are //precisely// my thing.</button>->Page Twelve]]</tablet-display><mobile-display>[[<mobbutton>Yes, but… I liked it. As in LIKED it.</mobbutton>->Page Twelve]] [[<mobbutton>No. Princes of hell are //precisely// my thing.</mobbutton>->Page Twelve]]</mobile-display><fold-display>[[<fobbutton>Yes, but… I liked it. As in LIKED it.</fobbutton>->Page Twelve]] [[<fobbutton>No. Princes of hell are //precisely// my thing.</fobbutton>->Page Twelve]]</fold-display>

"The more I learn about you, the more you intrigue me," he says with a chuckle. You wrap your arms around him, holding him in a tight hug for several long, lovely moments. He then helps you up and gathers all your clothes on the grass under his arm. Making no move to get dressed, he grabs your hand and leads you toward the castle. The idea is embarrassing at first, but you realize the only other occupant is smart enough to keep his distance. "I think a bath is in order. Then we can occupy ourselves in my bedroom," he says. "You should let Lucifer know you won't be returning. Or would you rather I do it? He won't argue with me." You snort, knowing full well Lucifer isn't going to argue with either of you. But there's no reason to think about that right now. You're with Diavolo, whose smile is so bright, he may as well be the moon himself. "I love you, $firstname," he says, squeezing your hand. "Stay at my side for as long as you like. Forever is acceptable." (align:"=><=")+(box:"X")[[[(Return to the beginning.)->Start]]]