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moonstrumpet · 4 months

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I got a request for part 2 of Diavolo headcanons! This is the best I could do, It’s not exactly like the last one but I hope it’s good! It’s more like headcanons with a mix of short stories. Please let me know if you like this, I will continue more if so!

Slightly suggestive

Thank you so much for your interest in my head canons!

DEFINITELY keeps constant tabs on you. He needs to know what you did today! Did you hang out with the brothers? Did you hang out with Lucifer? If you hung out with Lucifer, he might get envious!

You might think you would call or text you at night and ask you what you did during the day. But sometimes he is just too busy and would ask Barbatos to give him every detail of what you did that day. He knows you could feel violated, but you don’t need to know. If you are going to be with him as he ascends to the throne, he needs you to be safe! (And because he is curious about everything you do)

Although he can’t be with you all the time, you offered him a piece of you, specifically, you guys share those magnetic bracelet heart charms when you combine together it forms a heart. The average demon cannot see it during meetings because his sleeves are covering it, but it’s there, and when he’s in his demon form, it is most CERTAINLY still there, and visible for everyone to see. When he’s feeling lonely, he sighs dramatically and lifts his sleeves to see the bracelet glimmering under the light. He doesn’t know it, but Barbatos always sees him smiling to himself sometimes when he looks at it. It seems extreme, but no average person understands the stress of being the future Demon King, especially so young.

Diavolo is very grateful to have someone like you, after all, you see him more than the King of the Devildom. You see his bright goofy smile and his love and curiosity for life. But, don’t let that distract you that he’s still the future king of all demon folk. He’s 100% royal blood, he grew up getting practically everything he wanted. He would practically dance his way through conversations effortlessly using his persuasion skills and manipulation. He knows how to play the game. He sees it in your eyes, you forget, and he takes advantage of that. You won’t notice the way he looks at you from behind when you two are walking together. The way his glowing eyes glue onto your outfit of choice today and the way it hugs all the right places. You might feel someone watching you only for you to turn around. It’s just Diavolo, friendly and kind with his usual, innocent(?) smile.

He’s very good at masking his true emotions, you see. Do you see? Do you see how much he needs you, your voice, your touch, your smell? He can’t live without it. He’s gotten everything and anything he ever wanted, everything except somebody to love, but now he has you, and he will not let go.

There are times he does think too hard about you leaving him. When he does though, he will call you with his usual tone of voice asking you to visit him at the castle. Thinking none of it, you gladly go to see your lover. Just know the moment you walk through his office door you're not going out till he sees fit.

Know that he would hold you down tightly against his locked office door and directly tell you the sweetest, tempting words while his hands slowly cage you deeper and deeper. His expensive cologne is overpowering and his body is unusually hot as he pressed his chest onto your back while you feel his hand slowly trail to your face, and lift your jaw up to the side to expose your neck. You yelp in surprise as he bites into your neck line while slowly leaving love bites down to your collarbone. He knows it hurts, he really does, but he just can’t help himself, after all you did tell him not to hold back anymore. He needs to know that you are here, right next to him. He needs to taste you. To feel you and to hold you. The intensity of his presence is practically overwhelming and swallows you whole.

He’s lured you in and you’ve eaten the forbidden fruit, now you're his. Don’t dance with the devil, they all said.

—

No matter how many times he loves to touch you, he loves it more when you touch him. He practically melts under your touch. I bet it surprises him every time too. He’s not used to someone touching him so casually. He doesn’t know how he got into this position, his head on your knees, as you are humming with your hands in his hair. It felt like heaven, ironically.

—

Or when you both were sitting and enjoying tea on the tallest balcony of the castle, enjoying the moonlight. No candles were needed as the full moon lit up the table full of pastries and two tea cups. His beauty was radiating to you and the way his golden eyes contrasted with the moonlight put you in a trance. One thing led to another and you mentioned your curiosity about his demon form. His eyes lit in surprise and laughed so loud you thought the whole Devildom heard him.

“Of course MC!” He exclaimed as he grabbed his chair to move away from the table so both of you are sitting in right front of each other. The feeling of his knee in between your legs made you weak.

He quickly stopped laughing when your hands softly glided across his chest as you admired his demon form in awe. His glowing gold eyes constantly follow your touch.

Your fingers glide against the smoothe black markings on his chest. He melts over your compliments and the touch of your warm hands against his chest. Slowly you lift your hand away from his chest and look up at him pointing to his horns.

He understands exactly what you want, and he will give it to you. He lowers his head for you to touch. The moment your hands reach his horns his hands grasp onto your shoulders. “Be gentle, MC” He breathes out. Taking his word, you slowly feel the smooth and ridged texture of his horns. The golden accents on his horns reflect the silver moonlight. The way you grabbed onto both of his horns sparked dark fantasies in his mind. Although prefers to keep that to himself for now. Diavolo snapped out of it when your hands left his horns. Leaving the ghost of your touch to linger. But, all the sudden, he felt you caress his wings. “MC!” he exclaimed in shock. He shot his eyes back up to meet yours.

Quickly, you removed your hand from his wings but he shot his hand onto your wrist tightly. Both of you staring wide eyed in surprise. He’s never felt like this with anyone before. He breathed, “MC.. your touch is intoxicating, I fear if you continue I would be able to hold back any longer.” He hesitantly lets go of your wrist. He stares at you with half lidded eyes brightening with a lovestruck gaze. His wings expand to his full length and completely block out the light of the moon leaving the only light coming from his gold eyes. “Do you know how much I lust after you, MC?”

Are you going to continue?

Although Diavolo has a reputation to uphold, every single demon in the Devildom and all the angels of the Celestial Realm know you two are dating. Everyone knows not to touch you or fuck with you. Unless they want to die. No one would dare to disrespect the future demon king like that. His mere presence in a room is intimidating, even his personality doesn’t stop people from fumbling over there words as they try to talk to the 7,0 (?) tall demon king with bright gold eyes looking down at the expectantly. He’s probably the biggest person in the room and JACKED. I mean this man is literally taller than Beel. Just imagine you're in a ballroom, looking for your lover in the sea of nobles, well, you don’t look for long because he’s the tallest one there with the largest wings and horns and covered in literal GOLD. Plus, practically everyone keeps at least 7 feet apart from him out of respect.

Realistically, if I saw him in the middle of my room in the dark at night just staring at me with bright gold eyes you would probably just DIE on the spot. GET AWAY YOU PARALYSIS DEMON‼️

I have a feeling that Diavolo will just watch you sometimes. Like when he’s supposed to meet you at a certain time he would come a bit early just to watch you sitting on a bench, waiting for him. It makes him even happier to see you all giddy and excited, smiling ear to ear because of him. It lights a fire in him that he cannot extinguish even if he tried. He loves to watch you get ready for him. He loves to see you try to impress him with your newest shirt or the way you specially color coded your outfit. Love it even more if you dress in red and gold. You're practically showing off to him.

One time, You were walking around with Asmo and practically tripped over your own feet when you saw the most beautiful jacket in the front section of Akuzon. You were babbling to Asmo about it only for you to see the price was WAY out of your budget. The next day, Sitting on your bed was the jacket you loved so dearly, with a note thanking you for all your hard work in the Devildom. Signed, Lord Diavolo.

When you're wearing clothes that he got you he will point at you and exclaim with the brightest smile on his face that he got that for you and say look how good you look. The brothers find it extremely annoying, your whole wardrobe is practically from Diavolo. This does not exclude shoes. The brothers stop asking where you get your clothes because all you say is “It’s a gift from Diavolo!” as you spin around for a fit check. It seems adorable on the outside, but the brothers are seething with jealousy that you're wearing clothes that he got you. You practically smell just like him now. (That was intentional on Diavolos' part)

Speaking of dressing up for him, Diavolo would definitely buy you a bunch of clothes, anything from designer to casual clothes. He would love to see you wear clothes specifically gifted by him. He purposely picks clothes that reveal your legs more or your collarbone, but he tries not to make you too uncomfortable, he just loves to examine every inch of your body. He just wants you to reach up and grab something or bend down a bit more. He just wants to see a little more, just a little more. He hopes you won’t notice, but sometimes he hopes you do.

When you go visit him at the castle wearing the clothes he bought you, His touch would constantly linger on your clothes and his fingers would fiddle with the bottom of your shirt, never fully lifting it but never stopping. He would talk to you over tea like usual but his hand would be on your thigh and slowly tracing along the fabric. You guys definitely have to be scooted together when having tea because he HAS to be touching you. Especially with those clothes, it feels like you're teasing him! (He did it to himself, he won’t admit that)

Diavolo would deliberately put you in the most compromising positions possible. Completely bending you down over the desk and somehow making it seem completely innocent, though that’s not what his mind looks like. If you're visiting him in his office he would accidentally drop his pen and ask you to pick it up in his casual friendly tone.

He loves it when you are on your knees looking up at him with those eyes, your eyes, your beautiful eyes. He almost feels bad for putting you in this position, almost.

Please look into his eyes when you hug him as he stares down at you. He would MELT. Your head is practically squishing in his chest, the warmth if your body reaches heart, causing him to squeeze you tighter as smiles deeply. He loves to hear you gasp in surprise as he hugs you tighter, it’s like he wants to absorb every part of you! 100% a way of cuteness aggression. He just stares at you and will SQUEEZE YOU. (Barbatos stops him)

Im still a new writer, I hope you like this! And thank you for requesting! 🥰

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demonvibez · 5 months

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mature (mdni) · tags: suggestive, alcohol, possessive/yandere dia

Diavolo sits across from Lucifer, the Demonus at hand painting both of their cheeks with a certain rosiness, the fireplace crackling away at their side. The Young Prince invited the Avatar of Pride over for a few drinks, knowing they both needed to kick back and let off some steam. Diavolo thought the two would just get lightly buzzed and exchange stories of their favorite memories, as they usually did. However, he couldn't have predicted his mood taking such a dark shift...

He can't even remember how exactly they got onto the subject of you - but neither can deny how much they miss you. They exchange stories of their favorite memories during your time here - but once they reach the bottom of the bottle, Lucifer can feel his inhibitions disappearing, and he's overcome with the urge to tell the Prince his favorite memory of you so far;

The night of your pact...and the intimate activities that followed...

As the Fallen Angel continues to happily go into detail about that night with you, the Demonic Prince can feel jealousy tightening its icy grip on his heart. Descriptions of your bare form have Diavolo's mind racing with a plethora of emotions - envy, greed and wrath all fighting to overpower each other as lust lurks in the shadows. Diavolo does his best not to let his cheerful façade crack, pressing the hell-crystal goblet to his lips as he begins to tune out Lucifer's drunken rambling. He had never seen Lucifer as his adversary before. He always regarded the demon as his best friend - now he is suddenly sizing him up, comparing himself to the Avatar and looking for flaws in his armor. What can he do to show you that he can give you everything you want and more? That he can be everything you need and more?

The Prince needs a plan.

Though you may be currently in the Human Realm, Diavolo sees that as a non-issue - he can have you in the confines of the Demon Lord's Castle with the slightest of effort. His power, ineffable. His resources, endless. No, the issue stems from your ties to this realm - to the demons whose pacts you've bound. He'll have to be careful when pulling the strings of this very delicate dance - keeping the brothers just far away enough from you to keep you close to him. And if he must remind Lucifer of his place in his Kingdom, of who exactly he and his brothers owe their lives to, he will. All so he can give you the life you deserve - the royalty you deserve. After all, he took Barbatos for himself, so he can just as easily take you too.

Lord Diavolo always gets what he wants - and you will be no different.

· demonvibez ♡ 2023 · do not copy, repost or modify · · likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! ♡ ·

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ratbraindraws · 1 year

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he got so excited at seeing you he had to stop and breathe for a moment (he horrifies you in the process)

obsessive/over excitable dia my beloved <33

#obey me #obey me diavolo #om! diavolo #yandere diavolo #yandere obey me #obey me fanart #diavolo fanart #yandere diavolo fanart

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wishluc · 1 year

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Hello hello, may i request for yandere Diavolo OM where hes tightly hugging darling because he's afraid that they'll disappear? You feel his hands all over you body and he whispers how much he loves you while slowly crushing you body (accidentally)

✧ CW: yandere character, non-consensual hugging, non-consensual kissing, power imbalance in relationship

✧ PAIRING: Diavolo x GN! reader

You can't say no to Lord Diavolo.

He's always been kind to you, greeting you warmly, and offering to help make your stay more comfortable, but you've never realized just how hard it is to turn him down. You've become comfortable with agreeing with him, because all he ever asked of you before was if you'd like to show him around your hometown in the human world or if you'd like to join him for tea, or if you'd stay for a weekend in his place (and even then, he said it as though he wanted you to have a break from the chaos in the House of Lamentation and not for the real reason—that he wanted to monopolize your attention, if only for a few days).

But he's never been so...upfront about such an odd request. So when he called you to his office and abruptly wrapped his arms around you, you were at a loss for words. This was unfamiliar; Diavolo's affection had never gone past an occasional pat on the back and a warm smile. And he just doesn't let go.

He sighs against the top of your head and calls out your name softly, so only you could hear—like an intimate whisper, "why don't you stay here a little while longer?"

How did he expect you to respond when he had you in such a position? Your head was almost tucked into him, and your arms painfully stiff by your sides, caged by his own bigger ones. He didn't seem bothered by how rigid and inflexible you were, and not even by your lack of response, content with being able to hold you so close.

Any words you would have said would have been too muffled for him to hear, but you were already frozen in place, your mind racing and your head spinning. Could you deny him?

"Don't worry about the legalities of it all," he continues, "I could just as easily keep you in here with me if there's anything stopping my appeal. To be honest, I'd much rather it be that way—the brothers have had too much time with you since you've come here, and I don't want them taking any more."

A hand around you moves a little lower, and you're unable to breathe yet again. Sweat trails down your front as Diavolo brings you in even closer (if that was even possible). Where was this coming from?

Suddenly, he laughs, not the usually boisterous sound you're familiar with, but softer, and goes to place a soft kiss on your head, fondness clouding his voice, "I don't dislike them for all their antics, but I don't know if any of them know just how much I like you. It frustrates me endlessly to see them constantly all over you, smothering you, right in front of me. And if you were unaware, I hope I made things clear now. I love you."

Just when you thought things couldn't get worse, with a firm arm tightening its hold around you with the hand stroking your side, another finding purchase on the small of your back, and your body almost melting into his, he just had to drop a confession on you. A confession from the future king of the Devildom, the man who was overlooking your stay here, and the only one with the power to send you home—not that it seemed he wanted to anymore. Could you be honest with him? Could you tell him that you didn't feel the same and that you wanted to go home once it was all over?

Could you risk upsetting the man who was being so vulnerable with you right now? Especially when you were well aware of exactly what he didn't want to hear from you.

"I wanted to make this more romantic," he confessed, the hand at your back simultaneously rubbing circles and pressing you down into him, "I had it all planned out, but you'll be leaving in a week. I don't want you to go and leave me," the whisper of your name is heart-achingly tender, "I truly love you. More than you could imagine. More than I should. Won't you consider staying with me? I promise to keep you happy, even down here in the Devildom."

"If you miss the morning light of the human world, I'll find a way to bring it to you. If you want to meet your friends there, I'll take you myself. All I ask of you is to stay with me a little longer." The unspoken condition registers itself to you all the same—to reciprocate his love.

Your breathing stills for a moment when his grip suddenly tightens and he buries his face into your hair, kissing you over and over. It's almost too tight, but with his strength and size, any attempt at fighting back would have gone unnoticed. All you can do is wait for him to let go.

Just as you start feeling lightheaded, he pulls away and instead caresses your cheek with his hand, beaming down at you with that achingly familiar smile you had always trusted before swiftly pressing his lips onto yours. It was almost innocent, a quick peck—but you knew this was only him testing the waters.

"I'm so happy. I love you," he echoes the words again, though they no longer have an effect on you. The tips of your fingers and your tongue feels numb, and your head is heavy with sorrow. It doesn't escape you that you've yet to respond to any of his words or actions, that he doesn't care about how you feel. All of this was merely an illusion of you having a choice.

How did things turn out this way?

all works © wishluc. do not copy, steal or repost my works on other platforms. (including translations)

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addicted-to-morally-grey-men · 2 months

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Mc running through the hallways of hol: THE SHIT'S ABOUT TO GO DOWN!!!

3...

2....

1...

BLOWS UP WHOLE HoL

Brothers with now black faces.....

...a few eternity later....

Mc: there was a RAT Lucifer! A fucking RAT! THIS BIGG!

Lucifer already done with mc's shit: still it doesnt give you the right to BLOW UP a whole ass mansion

Brothers (except Lucifer).... So we're homeless now?

Barbs: I support mc on this one... Rats are truly a nuisance *nodding his head at mc*

Diavolo and Solomon laughing their asses out in the bg

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l3viat8an · 1 year

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Angsty brainrot of the day: yandere!Diavolo finding out about the brothers’ crushes on MC, especially Lucifer’s, and calling a meeting in the throne room so he can fuck MC on the throne in front of all of them to remind them all who MC really belongs to.

-🌚

Nsfw content MDNI

I get how it’s angsty for the brothers- but damn that sounds like fun~

Even more so, because the brothers are bound (with magic or chains I’ll leave you to you-)

Because otherwise they’d be trying to pull MC away from Diavolo, even if that’d be the stupidest thing they could do.

It hurts so much to watch him take you and not be able to do anything about it. Your moans filling their ears and the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the throne room.

‘n to top it off Diavolo making eye contact with Lucifer when you almost inevitably cum around his cock-

#🌚 anon!#yea~#obey me!#om!#obey me #obmswd #obey me smut #obey me yandere #obey me diavolo #obey me x reader #obmswd smut #om! smut #om! diavolo #om! lucifer #ro rambles

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nerdy-talks · 2 years

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I live for lowkey yandere Diavolo ૮꒰ ˶• ᴗ •˶꒱ა ♡

click for better quality

#obey me #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me shall we date #obey me diavolo #om #omswd #diavolo #om! diavolo #yandere #yandere diavolo #obey me yandere #yandere obey me #obey me yandere diavolo #yandere diavolo obey me

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caffeinetheif · 1 year

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Greenhouse

Yandere! Daivolo x GN! MC

WC: 2.5k

Warnings: basically everything that involves yanderes, blood, heavily implied (but not described) minor character death, imprisonment of MC, implied forced cuddling/bed sharing, blood, mentions of paranoia and the feeling of being watched, some minor violence from MC towards Diavolo (let’s be honest he kinda deserves it), attempt at a non-consentual kiss

A/N: y’all I’m super sorry for the absense. Work and school has been hectic. The stress of prepping for a study abroad is taking its toll that’s for sure. As always, I hope you enjoy and let me know if I missed any warnings! The title is a little cryptic, but I have my reasons for choosing it :)) Also, this was low key based off of a dream I had a while ago lol

“MC, darling,” a gentle voice rouses you from your peaceful slumber. It takes you a moment to remember where you are and who you are with.

Your mind reacts with panic. You’re still here, stuck in this cursed room with the demon who stole you away. The demon who faked your disappearance so he could keep you just for his own selfish desires.

“What, Diavolo?” you can’t help but let a bit of resentment slip into your voice. If there’s one thing that’s stayed the same after being snatched, it’s your distaste for being woken up.

The demon chuckles, “I apologize for waking you, dear, especially so late. There’s urgent business that I must attend to, but I promise I won’t be gone long!”

You glare at the back of Diavolo’s imposingly tall form as he stands up from your shared bed and dresses himself. If you had it your way, you wouldn’t even be here, much less sharing a bed with the Prince of the Devildom. You tried demanding your own room or bed when he first whisked you into his castle, but he laughed and told you that there was no need to be so stubborn.

Noticing your angry stare, Diavolo turns to you and smiles, “You can go back to sleep, MC. I know how much you hate being woken up.”

Diavolo restates that he’ll be back as soon as he can as he moves to press a kiss to your forehead. In a split second act of rebellion, knock your head into his chin as hard as you could without much of a windup. The demon doesn’t even flinch, but laughs instead.

“Still feisty as always!”

You think you see a flash of annoyance and disappointment in his honey gold eyes, but quickly flop back down in bed and turn your back to him. Maybe if he thinks you’re going back to sleep he will leave you be. You hear him bustle around the room a bit more before hearing his boots move towards the door.

That damn door! It locks from the outside and Diavolo has the only key. No matter how much you destroy the room searching for the key, you have never found where he keeps it hidden. The only idea you have is that it is somehow enchanted and bound to Diavolo in some way. Every time he enters and exits the room, he always locks the door behind him, which ruins your chances of any escape through it. Even the solitary window in the room is magically locked and indestructible to anything you throw or hit it with.

You hear the clicking of the lock becoming undone and the door opening. The door is shut quickly and you assume Diavolo has left. Time passes as you wait for the resounding ‘click’ of the lock sliding back into place. The sound never happens, your heart jumps with excitement at the prospect of Diavolo actually forgetting to relock the door in his hurry to attend to business. You quietly sit up and swing your legs over to stand. You move towards the tall solid wood door and listen for any notion that the prince is returning. You hear nothing for several minutes before you decide to test your luck.

Your shaky hand reaches out for the cold iron door handle and you slowly twist it. The inner mechanisms click and you wince as they echo throughout the empty room. Slowly, and ever so carefully, you push open the door. The hinges faintly groan but put up no fight.

The hallway outside is quiet. There is no sign of life from Diavolo or servants or maids. No footsteps or voices are heard. No demon is there to order you to stop or to get back in the room. There is no light coming from the hanging light fixtures or candle holders on the walls. The only light source is the gentle moonlight beaming in through the windows. The lack of life almost seems too good to be true, but it’s your only chance at escaping this hellhole.

Ever so carefully, you sneak out of the doorway. Twisting the handle, this time from the outside, you push the door shut so the hardware doesn’t alert anyone to the door being shut once more. You almost don’t believe that you’re out of that room. Before you begin the next phase of your escape, you look down the hall both ways. No one can see you leave, but that is an unlikely occurrence. So, you just have to out run them if you encounter anyone.

You start at a careful speed walk down the left hall. The paintings and portraits that hang along the wall seem to follow you with their eyes. A strong sense of foreboding urges you to move faster. A creak echoes from down the hall, and that’s all it takes for you to take off. You run down the ornate halls, ones that you had once admired. Now, they’re nothing but a mocking labyrinth and the paintings that adorn the walls mock you as you run. The tiled floor below does nothing to dampen the sound of your feet as your feet hit the ground.

Making turn after turn, you quickly find yourself lost in a state of panic and desperation. None of these halls look familiar and there is not a single living soul wandering around. No one is there to help you.

Or so you think. You make another turn and run face first into another person with a grunt. The force of the impact knocks you to the ground, but the other stays on their feet. You look up at the figure, the first living being you have encountered since arriving at the castle. He’s taller than you, but not tall by demon standards. He rubs at the spot on his chest where your head hit and he glances down at you in surprise.

“Huh?” he begins speaking, “there’s not supposed to be anyone in this wing of the castle, much less a human.”

Asking this demon, a servant of the castle, for help is a risky gamble, but one that you’re willing to take, “Please, you have to help me! I’m being held captive by Diavolo. Please, I need your help!”

The servant nervously glances around him, looking for any listening ears or prying eyes. He takes a shaky breath before saying, “You… you’re the reason Young Master has been acting strange.”

He sighs and looks like he’s contemplating something, “I shouldn’t. My Lord will have my head if he finds out I am helping you.”

Your gut drops, this is the first living being you have seen since you were brought to this wretched place! Is he really going to just… ignore you?

In a fit of desperation, you reach out and grab his sleeve, “Don’t leave me! I have to get out of here! I need to escape!”

Your outburst startles the demon and he shakes his head, “I didn’t say I was going to leave you. Follow me, and be quiet.”

Your heart leaps and you have to fight the urge to thank him, who knows if there is anyone listening. Turning on a dime, the servant walks through the decorative halls, making a number of right and left turns down other hallways. The two of you approach a ‘T’ shaped corridor and he seems to be attempting to remember something. Several seconds pass before he turns to the left option.

The length of the hall is uncharacteristically dirty, with dust coating the vases and paintings. The only light present comes from the moon peering through the occasional window. The few paintings that have been long neglected seem to follow you with their gaze and you hurry to keep up with your guide’s long strides.

Soon, the two of you finally arrive at a large, hardwood door. The demon quickly glances down the hall where you two just came from before flicking through his keyring. Finally, he stops once he finds a small, bronze key that matches the delicate hardware on the door and slides it into the keyhole. The key is twisted and you hear a dull click as the door is unlocked. The door creaks ominously as it is swung open to reveal a dusty, sparsely decorated room.

The unnamed demon enters the room and motions for you to follow him inside. Once you do, he relocks the door and quickly walks towards a tall painting that hangs on the wall.

The servant glances back at you, “Help me move this painting. There’s an old passageway behind here that leads to the courtyard.”

The sound of his voice brings your attention and you hurry to help him. As you approach the demon, you notice the painting is a portrait of a very young Lord Diavolo and his father sitting together. Something about this painting doesn’t sit right with you, but you choose to ignore it in favor of helping the servant move the large painting. The two of you lift in tandem and he guides the heavy frame to the side, leaving an opening just wide enough for you to fit.

“This is where I Ieave you. The rest of your escape is up to you. I will do my best to cover your tracks.”

As you slip between the wall and the frame, you glance at the demon and whisper a gracious, “Thank you, for everything.”

The demon nods and shifts the painting back over the entrance to the passageway and darkness engulfs you. It seems more like a tunnel than anything, but it is wide and tall, clearly made for much taller and broader demons. The lack of light wouldn’t phase any demon who enters due to their superior vision in the dark, but you? You’re nearly blind and depend on the feeling of the wall at your side to guide you.

As you maneuver down the pathway, you can’t shake the feeling of being watched. You know it’s silly and chalk it up to the paranoia resulting from Diavolo’s constant hovering. Regardless, you pick up your pace, opting to ignore the burning sensation of the stone wall dragging against your hand.

You don’t know how long you walk for. Luckily, the secret tunnel doesn’t seem to have any alternate hallways and consists of a single, winding one that leads to your destination. The chilly air and cold stone walls seem to sap all the heat from your body and you begin to shiver.

You finally see the moonlight beaming down at what you assume is the end of the tunnel. Glee fills you and you break out into a run as you grow closer to the light. The moonlight drifts down through a metal grate in the ceiling of the tunnel. It looks like it should be big enough for you to squeeze your shoulders through to get out. You stand under the grate and investigate the hardware. You don’t see any bolts or hinges on the grate that might hold it shut to your surprise.

The only thing that poses an issue is the height of the exit. The tunnel was not constructed with human height in mind, leaving the only exit a great deal above your head. With your arm stretched straight up as far as you could go, you still aren’t able to touch the metal. Even rising to your tiptoes the piece of metal is just too tall for you to touch.

With your heart pounding, you jump and swipe at the grate. The tips of your fingers brush against it. You jump and hit it again, and again, and again before the grate is dislodged far enough for you to be able to get your hand between the edge of it and the opening. With one more jump and a hard shove at the metal covering, the hole is completely uncovered. You mentally cheer, not wanting to give away your location to anyone who may hear.

It takes a couple more jumps for you to grasp onto the ledge securely, and at this point your arms and legs are exhausted. But you can’t give up, especially when you’re so close to being free! Just the feeling of the fresh air and cool breeze on your fingers is enough to spur you on. You bring your feet up against the stone wall as extra leverage to push yourself up and out of the hole. Adrenaline is one hell of a motivator.

The breeze caresses your face as you roll onto the grass surrounding the outside of the hole. You want to laugh, cry, yell, whoop and holler at the feeling of finally being outside. How long has it been since you have smelt dirt? You never thought you would miss the stuff, yet here you are.

“Have you finished having fun? I must say, you made it quite far.”

Your eyes snap open and your head shoots up to find the voice.

You see the one demon you are trying to escape. Diavolo, in all his glory, is crouching down a mere six feet away from the hole you just pulled yourself out of. The smile on his face doesn’t match the disappointment in his eyes.

A metallic stench fills your nose and brings your attention to Diavolo’s hands. Even with the moonlight projecting his silhouette and hiding most of him in darkness, you can still see the deep, ruby blood staining his hands. In the back of your mind, you know who it came from, but you don’t want to believe it. Lately, you find yourself not wanting to believe a lot of things.

Diavolo chuckles when he notices your eyes fixated on his hands, “It’s a shame, he was such a hard worker. To think such a dedicated servant would go behind my back to help you run away from me. Though, I do have several demons eager to replace him.”

No, no no no no! This can’t be happening! You didn’t even know his name, yet you find yourself grieving for the demon you just met.

Diavolo stands and a large, bloody hand wraps around your upper arm. He hauls you up like a sack of potatoes and ignores how you flinch and squirm at the feeling of the still warm blood seeping through your shirt. You can tell he’s furious as he moves to guide you back towards the castle.

“No, please, I just want to go home!” You panic, you can’t go back. If he gets you inside the castle again, you’re never getting out.

“Your home is here, MC. It’s here at my side where I can keep you locked away, where I can keep you safe!”

Anger surges through you and you kick and writhe, doing anything to get out of his grasp, “I’m not some object for you to own! I don’t belong to anyone, and certainly not you!”

Diavolo’s eyes narrow, and the aura he gives off is oppressive. Your brain screams at you to run, to get away, that Diavolo was dangerous. After all, he killed a demon in cold blood just because they brought you to an escape route.

“You were mine the day you arrived in the Devildom.”

#tw yandere #yandere diavolo #diavolo x reader #obey me #obey me x reader #obey me fic #om diavolo #omswd

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tatsumessy · 1 year

Text

Horny Mess

Diavolo x fem reader

No words could explain how pissed off you were right now. Barbatos had just slipped you a message letting you know that your demon prince of a boyfriend has purposely been ignoring you for no reason.

Everytime you tried to see him or spend time with him he was always busy with meeting or classes or literally anything that could keep him away from you. You were getting fed up with his petty games so you asked Lucifer to set up a private meeting with just them two and obviously Diavolo agreed.

“This is his last meeting for the day so good luck.” Lucifer said walking away with Barbatos as you stood outside his office. You knocked on the door feeling your hand get clammy all of a sudden but once he said come in it’s like all those nerves disappeared. Was it because you hadn’t seen him for almost a month?

Diavolo looked up to see you standing infront of the door, he stiffened setting down the pen he was holding. “MC, I have a meeting with Lucifer any minute-” “I know, that meetings with me.” Your fingers twisted the lock behind you as you spoke slowly walking over to him.

He gulped feeling his body betray him once again, his face and neck was sweaty, his crotch was growing harder by the second just by the way you looked at him. Being the pervert he was the only reason he had been avoiding you was because his body kept giving off lewd reactions everytime you two were alone.

You arrived infront of his desk sitting down in the chair right across from him. The more you looked at him and the way he avoided eye contact with you the more pissed off you got. “Do you not like me anymore?” His body jolted forward at your question, “Why would you ask such a stupid question like that one?” There he goes answering your question with a question.

“We haven’t seen each other for a month, and everytime I do try to talk to you, you always have ‘better’ things to worry about. I get you’re the demon prince but is your girlfriend not a priority anymore?” You spoke biting on your thumb out of nervousness, yeah you were a human and he was a demon so that could be the reason he was keeping his distance but not telling you feels even worse.

“That’s not it at all MC. I think the affect of me liking you so much has been doing things to me. I think these lewd things about you everyday and I don’t think it’s right for me to have that type of vision about you.” His confession made you freeze in your seat, when you thought about this conversation right now you did not expect for it to go this way.

“Okay…you’ve been having horny thoughts about me…so what?” His cheeks started to turn a deep shade of pink as you stood up walking around the desk to stand in between his legs. “Dia.” You said moving his hand from covering his face while you placed yourself on his lap, straddling him. His member was already erect and the look on his face made such an expression, if anybody were to see this right now they would’ve thought you two had sex already.

“Why would you ignore me for such a stupid reason?” Your left arm wrapped around his neck while your right hand caressed his heated cheeks. He didn’t respond verbally but his body sure did, his arms wrapped tighter around your waist. “I want…to fuck you so bad MC.” He whispered into your neck. That statement gave you goosebumps and it was like his words gave you a kickstart on the inside.

Your hips started grinding slowly against him and because of how physically strained he was small whines left his mouth turning you on even more. The wetness from your core dripped profusely through your underwear and skirt straight on to his black slacks. There was no time to apologize as his hips bunched into your creating loud thumping noises in his chair.

You moaned from the pressure gripping onto his jacket trying to center yourself. “Dia, please.” You whined throwing your head back as your eyes started to roll from how good the stimulation on your clit was feeling. “Do I have your permission to touch you?” He asked pressing kisses on the small of your neck, you nodded yes but he didnt want to take that as an answer. “Words precious.” He cooed in your ear.

“I give you permission.” Without hesitation he lifted you up and placed you onto the desk, he quickly lifted up your skirt thanking whoever made the dress code. The red lace panties you were wearing thanks to Asmo made this man blush even harder. The color seemed to match his hair color especially with the large wet patch that was on it.

“This is a treat.” He smiled hooking his finger under the fabric and pulling it down your bottom. He held it in his hand smiling then placed it in a drawer next to him before focusing his attention back on you.

The way his hands touched you was gentle, the way his mouth praised your body with words and touch made you feel so wanted. He was face to face with your cunt watching as you squirmed from the cold air of in his office blowing across it. He leaned forward kissing it once then licking one stripe to taste what he’d be eating tonight.

But in the moment he changed his mind. “Fuck. I wish I could take my time and indulge in the delectable feast you’re offering right now but I just can’t wait any longer. If I do I fear I might break.” His face was now parallel with yours as he admired how beautiful you looked on his desk under him.

His lips smashed onto yours distracting you from the aching feeling from down below. Even his kisses were doing major things to your body and he knew it, he knew he had you wrapped around his finger but what you didn’t know was that you had an even bigger hold on him.

He covered your mouth as you moaned out, tears formed in the corner of your eyes and Diavolo whispered sweet encouraging words in your ear while peppering soft kisses all around your face and neck. He was comforting you making sure you were alright but you could feel him shaking, he was trying to hold back which you didn’t want him to do. You both had been waiting for a whole month to see each other and now you two had all night.

“Dia, I want to do this. Please don’t hold back for me.” You said holding his face with both of your hands, in a split second his human form was transformed. His horns, wings and tail was out and his face was red. His tail wrapped around your left leg as his mouth latched onto your neck sucking it aggressively, he started grinding himself onto you forcing you to bite your lip in excitement.

You didn’t even realize the he had taken himself out of his pants, he rubbed himself a couple of time slowly slipping his tip between your folds. “I’m sorry.” He said forcefully shoving himself inside of you, he thrusted in and out repeatedly hitting that sensitive spot inside of you.

You let out breathy moans trying not to be too loud in case someone was still in the academy but Diavolo groaned louder in your ear so that if someone was still here they’d know how good you made him feel. He changed pace and started rolling his hips glancing up at you from under his eyelids.

“You’re okay baby. Stay with me.” He said pressing two light pecks on your neck, your and held onto the back of his coat keeping yourself grounded. Your back started arching the harder his thrust hit inside of you. “Ah! Fuck Dia slow down please.” You moaned out gripping his coat tighter.

“I’m sorry, I can’t. I’m almost there baby.” He pushed forward knocking over some papers on the desk, his hands pulled up your thighs pressing them to your chest giving him better access to your exposed cunt. He pulled cock out pumping it a few times then slowly pushing back into you.

He let out a breathy moan bottoming out once again and the moment his hands gripped your ankles he started pounding into chasing after his running orgasm. You held your legs open allowing for him to fuck you into a mating press, your eyes were shut tightly feeling the knot in your stomach about to snap.

Diavolo knew you were about to cum, he could feel you tightening around his cock causing him to roll his eyes in the back of his head. His pace sped up as he leaned down kissing on your neck leading up to your lips, you were so out of it the you never realized that he was trying to get your attention by kissing you. “Look at me, cum with me baby.” He smiled looking into your eyes as he pumped his seeds into you.

Arching your back again you came around him creating a ring of both yours and his cum mixed together due to his slowly lazy thrust.

You laid with your back against the desk breathing heavily as Diavolo snuggled his face into your neck trying to catch his breath. “I’m sorry if I was too aggressive.” He said leaning onto his elbow so that he could look down at you. “It’s okay Dia. Do you feel better?” He nodded aggressively snuggling himself into your neck again.

You laughed at his childish behavior and wrapped your arms around him pulling him closer to you. “Let’s get you home.” He spoke wrapping his arms under legs forcefully putting them around his waist.

He sat you down in his chair letting you rest while cleaning up his desk with spare paper towels he had hidden under his desk because he realized how much he loved having sex with you on his desk.

Once finished he picked you up holding you against the small of his chest taking you to his home.

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dotster001 · 11 months

Text

Happy

Summary:Yan! Diavolo x gn!reader. Diavolo reflects on your relationship.

A/N: I'm not a huge fan of nightbringer, but it's allowed me to get lots of inspiration, so that I can feed my Obey me followers 😂

CW: general Yan! Stuff. Nothing really happens, but there's a lot of implications of past yandere occurrences

He was the most powerful creature in all three realms. He could have anything he wanted with a snap of his fingers, no matter what or who it inconvenienced.

And now, he had you. The one thing in all the realms that he yearned for above all others. The one thing he was willing to risk all his principles, all his dreams for.

So why wasn't he happy?

Everyday, he would wake up in the morning to you in his arms. He would receive a kiss on the cheek, and a sleepy, "Good morning, My Lord." Then he would dress for the day, and dress you in the finest clothes the Devildom had to offer, before promising he'd be good and do his work.

And if he was good, like today, you would bring him his lunch at noon, give him another kiss on the cheek, and sit with him while he ate.

So why wasn't he happy?

Perhaps it was the way the light no longer showed in your eyes when you looked at him.

Perhaps it was the way every smile seemed strained, and every kiss seemed cold and rehearsed.

Perhaps it was the way you quickly left the moment he said you were free to go.

"Is there anything else you need, my Lord?"

My Lord. It was never "Dia" anymore. Nor was it "my love." Neither was it "Diavolo". It was simply "My Lord".

He hated it.

Lately he'd found himself just staring at you, wondering what he could have done differently.

"Is there anything else you need, my Lord?" You asked again, a tinge of impatience entering your voice.

"Yes. Your love," he said.

Your eyes widened, before you heaved a heavy sigh and sat back in your chair.

You buried your face in your hands for a moment, before looking back at him, and squaring your shoulders.

"You already had it."

It felt like you'd just stabbed him in the gut. He should correct your behavior. He should teach you how to address him properly. For that's what his station demanded of him.

But he knew you were right.

So, instead he just stared, and swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. He stood up, and cupped your small, fragile, human face, in his large, strong demonic hand. You didn't flinch like you used to, but you also didn't react. You just looked at him with empty eyes.

He sighed and pulled away, sitting down and getting his paperwork ready.

"You may go. I'll see you at dinner."

You bowed deeply, and left without another word.

He used to be happy.

You used to be happy.

....

Tag list- @leonia0 @eccedentesiast-sapphic @your-next-daydream

#yandere obey me #obey me #obey me x reader #yandere obey me x reader #diavolo #om! diavolo #diavolo x reader #yan! diavolo x reader #yan! diavolo

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moonstrumpet · 4 months

Text

obey headcanons but slightly suggestive

imagine telling diavolo that he doesn’t need to hold back anymore with affection. him constantly being worried about being too much and just always subconsciously holding back with you. when you tell him that he’s like “are you sure?” with puppy dog eyes. little did you know how much he was holding back. constant affection is required 24/7 with him and that will NEVER be enough. if he needs you and it fits with his availability he will just pick you up over his shoulder and walk away with you. even if you are busy or in the middle of a conversation. if he is in the same room with you he will always hover over you, and grasping at you somewhere, may it be your hands, back, waist, face, neck, literally EVERYWHERE. he might tend to push your buttons to see what reactions he can get out of you. he’s constantly looking at every muscle in your face for the slightest reaction his touches give and enjoys every part of it.

absolutely enjoys touching you in meetings. imagine your sitting next to him and under the table his hand is on your thigh but he’s not making it noticeable only for him to keep a perfect poker face the entire time. i imagine him slowly just scooting next to you and you don’t even notice.

he is DEFINITELY OVERBEARING considering the fact he is absolutely touch starved and lonely. he would absolutely change your schedule to match his so every single time he’s off your off.

randomly will start squishing you if your next to him. loves to squish your thighs in his hands and rub his hands. nothing good is going on in his head. his pupils dilated 100%. loves to squish you, sometimes he doesn’t realize he might be squishing too hard.

loves to hover over you and cage you in, it makes him feel like your not going anywhere. constantly watching and observing every single inch of you. you know that one obey me chat where it’s like what’s ur love language his was to constantly observe his lover. YUP.

he will definitely do suggestive things and play it off as innocent to see your reaction. one time your bag was bit too far off the table, so you bend and grab it, but it’s just too far. all the sudden you feel a weight pressed on your back. “here, mc, let me get that” while he’s holding on to your waist and literally caging you onto the desk while he effortlessly reaches over and grabs your bag.

IM SORRY I KNOW I WENT OFF THE HEADCANON FOR A SECOND BUT I COULD WRITE HOURS ABOUT HIM

also if anyone wants to use my headcanons as inspiration for drawings or writing that’s perfectly okay but I WANT TO SEE IT TOO PLEASE TAG ME BC I LOVE READING FAN FICS

thank you for reading and i pray every night that my family never gets my phone and if i die im burning my phone okay bye.

#obey me headcanons #yandere!diavolo #obey me nightbringer #obey me #om headcanons #headcanon #diavolo om #diavolo om x reader #diavolo om x reader yandere #diavolo x reader #om diavolo #om diavolo x reader smut #obey me diavolo #om! diavolo #obey me lord diavolo #shall we date diavolo

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yandere-daydreams · 1 year

Text

Title: Covetous.

Commissioned by the very lovely, very patient @elsecrytt.

Pairing: Yandere!Satan x Reader x Yandere!Diavolo (+Lucifer) [Obey Me].

Word Count: 5.0k.

TW: N0n/C0n, AFAB!Reader, Nonconsensual Drug Use, Biting/Marking, Mentions of Blood, Degradation, Disturbing Themes, and Slight Infantilization.

You were not entirely sure how you got yourself into this situation.

Vaguely, in the flickering shadows of something much more horrific, you could remember the taste of bitter tea in a secluded nook of the House of Lamentation’s library, feel the remnants of braided rope and cutting ribbon against the skin of your wrists and ankles, but that was it – the ghosts of memories you’d already lost to the darkest corners of your mind.

The present was much clearer, albeit still shrouded in a thick haze. You knew, objectively, that you were currently sitting on the edge of a very large, very lavish bed – canopied by translucent red lace and spilling over with silk sheets and hand-embroidered pillows and delicately crocheted quilts. You were leaning against a wooden bedpost, your body slack and unresponsive, but you did your best to hold yourself upright, to keep your eyes open and your jaw locked in place. If Lucifer saw you in such a disheveled state, the lecture would’ve been endless, accompanied by plenty of anecdotes about his own all-overcoming, all-overwhelming resilience. You loved him, but he’d never been the most sympathetic lover. Poise and presentation were always his first priorities, his only priorities. If you didn’t live up to those expectations, then he couldn’t be bothered to expend the energy it would take to live with you.

You blinked once, then twice, trying not to drift any further than you already had. You were in Diavolo’s castle. That, you knew had to be true, because only a castle would have so much gold, so much silver, so much of everything luxurious and everything expensive and then a little more, just to make sure you got the point. The gold-leafed tendrils of a massive chandelier twisted and writhed in every direction above your head, ornaments of silver and bronze adorning every available surface fit to house a testament to his regal status. The only source of light was the smoldering hearth – left unattended, reduced to ashes and a few blocks of lingering charcoal. It took your eyes longer than it should’ve to adjust to the dim lighting, for your mind to recall that waking up in a strange room with a strange taste lingering on the back of your tongue was rarely ever something to be taken in stride. With a feeling of exhausted paranoia and mounting anxiety, you made more of an active effort to investigate your surroundings, but it didn’t take you very long to find something that made you wish you hadn’t.

On a rug made from the skin of some unholy creature you didn’t recognize, Diavolo and Satan were posed together, intertwined in a manner as unfamiliar as the fur they were lying on top of. Satan was on his knees, kneeling and shirtless, his blonde hair slicked back with sweat and a ruddy flush spread across his pale skin. Diavolo, for his part, was prostrated before him, his chest pressed into the floor and his legs folded painfully tight underneath him. A ragged scrap of crimson silk was wrapped around the lower half of his face, lodging itself between his teeth and cutting into his sculpted cheeks, but his hands remained unbound, locked behind the small of his back due to no restraints other than that of his own determination, a show made more impressive by the long, open cuts that’d been carved into the flesh of his back, lining either side of his spine like crudely drawn tally-marks. They were ugly things – tattered and bloody, layered over one another, some fresh and others little more than faded scars. You knew demons could heal themselves faster than humans were able to, but you couldn’t recall how quickly, whether or not Diavolo’s strength would play a factor in how much time it would take for him to piece himself back together. You didn’t know which reality you preferred: that Diavolo could heal himself and the cruelty was simply coming more swiftly than he could undo, or that this had been going on long enough for the scars to just be scars, for the violence to just be violence.

Either way, the source of the abuse was easy enough to find. In his right hand, Satan held a spiked whip, short enough to be used at close-range but not so cropped as to limit its effectiveness. Neither seemed to have noticed you yet, or if they did, they didn’t mind an unwilling voyeur. With no sense of hesitancy, of reluctance, Satan raised his whip, his hand flexing around the leather-bound grip before he brought it down, striking Diavolo with a sharp crack. In response, Diavolo offered a stifled hiss, an arched back, a new line of ragged skin and a thin, almost imperceptible trail of blood flowing from the newly inflicted injury and onto the fur rug. It was far from a compromise, but Satan seemed content, letting out an airy chuckle as he brought up a hand, tracing his fingertips over the open gash before bringing them to his lips, taking his time to swab every drop of deep scarlet away with his tongue. “Such a desperate little whore,” he muttered, barely audible from your position. “You’d do anything to deserve to bow before me, wouldn’t you?”

There was a muffled groan, as much of a nod as could be given by a man lying face-down on the floor. He tried to do something. To sit up or to simply reposition himself, it was difficult to tell, but Satan saw fit to put an end to it either way. In a fraction of the time it might’ve taken the eye to blink, his hand was on Diavolo’s shoulder, shoving him back into the fur with the kind of hair-trigger hostility you couldn’t say you’d ever seen mastered by anyone but Satan. “Did I say you could—”

You must’ve shifted, knocked against the bedpost, inhaled just a little too deeply, because before he could finish, Satan snapped in your direction, eyes wide and pupils narrowed into slits. A barbed tail flicked behind him, winding into itself before straightening once again, but Satan appeared composed – caught off-guard, sure, but otherwise unaffected. A languid grin came to rest over his lips, and slowly, almost as if he was trying not to startle you, he straightened his back, pulling away from Diavolo and receiving a muffled whine by way of protest. “I was starting to think you’d never wake up,” he called, speaking more loudly than he really had to in the confinement of the crowded bedroom. There was a nudge to Diavolo’s shoulder, a drum of pointed fingertips against skin torn raw. “Look who’s decided to join us.”

When Diavolo failed to move, Satan added, “Rise, Diavolo. You have my permission.”

With a short delay, he obeyed, unlocking his hands from behind his back and pushing himself upward, every motion stiff and jerky. He was less precise than Satan, as relaxed as his counterpart was intense. When he looked at you, he did so idly, allowing his eyes to rake over your body, over your posture, a smile slowly tugging at the corners of his mouth as his gaze rose to meet yours. Despite the blood staining his back, the open cuts that only stretched wider every time he moved, he didn’t seem to be in agony, didn’t seem to notice the way you cringed as a string of sympathetic aches raced down the length of your spine. “They really are so cute, all dolled up like that,” he muttered, making no effort to address you. “And look – they don’t even mind the robe.”

You glanced into yourself and found that, true to his words, you were wearing a robe you didn't recognize – black and velvet and lined with golden thread. The collar was loose-fitting, deep, falling to your navel before a sloppily tied belt cut it off, and the hem barely reached your mid-thigh. You couldn’t remember what you’d been wearing before, if you’d still been in your uniform or something more casual, but you didn’t think you owned anything this ornate - anything you hadn’t borrowed from Lucifer, at least. You didn’t think that, if you did have a reason to dress yourself in a robe that might’ve been worth a year’s worth of your rent back in the human realm, you’d actively choose not to wear anything underneath it.

You opened your mouth, planning to ask where it’d come from, how you’d gotten into it, for someone to tell you that the most obvious answer was not the correct one, but your voice seemed to falter before it could ever make it past your lips. You tried again, but found your head pounding, your eyes fluttering shut as you buckled into yourself. Satan only chuckled, never taking his eyes off of you as he pushed himself to his feet and came to stand at the foot of Diavolo’s bed, less than an arm’s length away. He bent at the waist, coming to loom just above you – as one would when they were preparing to talk to a small child, or explain something very simple to someone who had a very, very hard time understanding relatively straightforward concepts. “How do you feel, kitten?”

Again, you tried to say something, but it died on your tongue, drained you of your energy before you could so much as attempt to spit anything out. You let your head lull forward, but Satan only cooed, bringing up a hand to run his fingers through your hair, combing it away from your face. “I thought so. We lost you for quite a while.” His tone matched his posture – just as patronizing. The others could talk down to you, sometimes, whether it was Mammon’s bragging or Asmo’s oblivious ego or, as much as it hurt to admit, Lucifer’s ever-present condescension, but Satan was usually more willing to put himself on your level, to treat you more or less like he treated everyone else. Granted, he treated everyone like they were below him, but still. You’d learned to take what you could get, since you came to the Devildom. “Can you stand?”

Shakily, you forced yourself to nod, to grapple at the bedpost as you pulled yourself to your feet. You made it a second, maybe two before your legs began to shake, your knees buckling under your weight and sending you crumbling onto the floor. He let you fall, only watching on as you crashed into the hardwood. He left you there, too, if only long enough to stare on as you shrunk into yourself. His gaze alone was piercing, prying, intense enough to make you feel like something very small and very clumsy. Like something very overwhelmed in the face of a larger, stronger predator.

Rather than helping you up, he glanced over his shoulder, towards Diavolo – now sitting cross-legged, observing contentedly. “What do you think?”

“I think,” he started, his eyes catching on what was left of the dull firelight. “that you’re being far too mean to the poor thing. It’s not their fault your potions tend to veer towards the experimental side.”

“I only used a few drops. It wasn’t anything even a low-ranking demon couldn't have walked off.” He paused, clicking his tongue and he turned his attention back to you. “Oh, but you’re not a demon at all, are you? It’s easy to forget how far his standards have fallen.”

He bent down, offering you a hand. When you failed to take it, he took you by the scruff of your robe, instead, hauling you up and off of the floor completely when you threatened to crumble once again. Roughly, unceremoniously, you were thrown over his shoulder and carried not to Diavolo’s fur, but the plain wood in front of the hearth, where the shadows seemed to twist and ebb with wills of their own and you could still feel heat radiating from the pile of leftover ashes in waves. There was a disapproving hum, the hollow sound of bare feet against the floor, and before Satan could throw you down, a plush comforter freshly pulled from the mattress was laid on the ground where you were bound to land, soon wrapped around your shoulders while you were still too startled to feel anything but slightly irritated by the sensation of the fabric against your skin. It was still hard to linger on more than one thing at a time, to minimize the lapse between cause and effect. Not so much to think, but to link one thought to another. Satan, lurking and out of character, and Diavolo, smooth and simpering and too self-satified, weren’t doing much to help.

Satan came to kneel behind you, pulling you towards him until your back was pressed into his chest and you were lying between his open legs. Diavolo, meanwhile, settled in front of you, leaning forward and taking up your thighs in his hands. If you felt small in front of Satan, Diavolo made you feel like nothing, an insect held in the palm of a giant. It took no effort at all for him to spread your legs apart, to throw them over his shoulders and latch onto the inside of your left thigh. You let out a whine of protest, but Satan only hushed you, letting one of his arms fall around your midriff to better pin you in place as Diavolo worked. You couldn’t thrash, couldn’t resist in any way, but he seemed prepared for you to try, to want you to try. Knowing him, he wouldn’t consider it a night well-spent until he found a chance to prove how willing he was to take what he wanted from you.

You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but there was only so much you could do to stop yourself from squirming as Diavolo trailed upward, as he latched onto your clit, suckling gently on the sensitive bud. Your mind was numb, but your body felt like an exposed nerve, all fickle electricity and probing pinpricks and unprotected tissue vulnerable to outside influence. Diavolo exploited that, lapping over your slit in long, lethargic stripes. There was a lazy fervor to it; passion, enthusiasm, but the type that was better expressed through slow movements and repetitive pleasure than any kind of haste. Diavolo’s disposition didn’t help. As composed as always, content to leave you discontent, a reptilian tail swaying idly at the base of his spine in time with the strokes of his tongue against your cunt.

His mouth was so hot, too, pure warmth sapping from his flesh and seeping underneath yours, leaving you melting on his tongue every time he found a new pattern to trace into your entrance, a new way to tease your clit. You struggled weakly in Satan’s hold, your hands shooting to his forearm and, when that obviously proved to be useless, to Diavolo’s horns, if only to try and shove him off of you, or pull him closer, or something else entirely. You weren’t sure. You didn’t know what you wanted, what you were allowed to want when you could barely put one thought behind another. You didn’t know if it mattered whether you wanted it or not, especially when neither Satan nor Diavolo had seemed to care enough to ask.

Either way, your hips bucked into Diavolo’s mouth involuntarily, your body simultaneously fighting to get away from the sensation and aching to sink further into it. If Lucifer saw you like that – oh, god, you could practically see the disdain written across his expression, disgust poorly disguised behind a patronizing mask more demeaning than the initial offense. He might attempt to say something to you, to assure you that it’s not your fault humans fall so easily to temptation, to promise that he’ll still love you even if you are a filthy animal, a weak soul suspectable to even the smallest hint of persuasion. He was prone to falling into similar mantras when he was the temptation you were falling to, when he was holding you on his lap and splitting you open on his fingers. In the moment, it was easy enough to tell yourself that it was just dirty talk, nothing worth taking to heart, but things that weren’t worth taking to heart wouldn't hurt so much when they resurfaced, wouldn’t coil in the pit of your stomach and gnaw at the back of your throat. It wouldn’t feel so akin to how Satan was looking at you, now, the blunt-pointed malice hidden just behind his eyes. It wouldn’t—

Fuck. It’d been a mistake to take your attention off of Diavolo, to let yourself drift so far from your agony’s point of origin. He’d lost interest in teasing and moved on to something more satisfying, grinding his nose against your clit while he fucked you open with his tongue. You let out a strangled whine, but that only seemed to spur Satan forward, his hold growing tighter as he reached forward, running his fingers through Diavolo’s hair. When Diavolo attempted to lean into his touch, Satan’s grip turned iron-clad, clamping down and forcing him to bury his face even deeper between your legs. You let out a sharp cry, but Satan didn’t seem to mind, only chuckling as he propped his chin on your shoulder. “He’s cute, isn’t he?” Satan muttered, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Always so desperate to please. You’d never think a prince would be so easily broken down.”

He made it sound like this was something unwilling, something Diavolo had been lured and coaxed and led into by Satan’s own careful guidance. From what you could see, he’d thrown himself into his degradation with enthusiasm, and Satan’s abasement only seemed to add to his excitement, his apparent need to eat you out like some wild, starving beast. In a fraction of a second, his hands had shot to your hips, pinning you down as he found a steady pace, as he finally started working towards your climax in earnest. It only took a few minutes, a few seconds before you were clenching your eyes shut, gritting your teeth and biting your tongue just to choke back the pathetic noises that threatened to spill past your lips.

Even that was an exercise in futility. Your thighs were already clenching shut around his head, your nails biting into the calloused bone of his horns as your back arched. It was almost cruel – how many times he was willing to trace his tongue around the base of your clit, how long he tried to string out your climax, only letting you rest once tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes, once your broken mewls had stretched and rose into something more akin to pained whines. Even then, It took him long, agonizing seconds to lift his head, to flaunt his slick-soaked chin and pull back far enough to break the tendril of saliva that still connected him to your drooling pussy. He blinked several times, in an almost trance-like state, then seeming to come back into his own consciousness, he flashed a grin towards Satan, not quite as cocky as he was praise-hungry and too unabashed to care if you knew it.

But, Satan didn’t chide him, didn’t respond with any of his usually hostile apathy. Rather, he offered an airy laugh, letting go of your waist just in time for Diavolo to infest the space he’d left vacant, wrapping his arms around your waist as his mouth crashed into yours, his tongue forcing its way past your lips before you could think to brace yourself. When you looked past the initial collision, he was surprisingly gentle, raking his tongue over yours, forcing you to taste yourself on him. By the time he pulled away, you were panting, dizzy, barely able to hold yourself upright. That didn’t stop him from taking you by the hips, though, manhandling your body until you were straddling Satan’s waist, until your exposed cunt was pressed against the thin leather of his pants. You could practically feel his cock pulsing through the fabric. A tight knot formed in the back of your throat, another somewhere deep in your core. You weren’t sure what it meant, but you knew you wanted to get rid of it – however you were even supposed to do that.

Diavolo lingered behind you, his hands remaining on your hips as his lips drifted to the column of your throat, then your shoulder. For whatever reason, it didn’t seem like he was able to settle on any particular spot. “What’s he like? In bed, I mean.”

Satan pursed his lips. “I thought we agreed not to talk about him.”

“You broke the rule first. Don’t think I missed that comment about a certain someone’s standards.” You felt warm breath fan over your shoulder, his easy smile coming to rest against your skin. “Just give us a little something. I’m curious.”

Satan huffed, rolling his eyes as his attention fell to his lap. While he preoccupied himself, rolling his hips against yours as he worked to undo the few barriers still restraining his cock, Diavolo went on, clearly undeterred. “I bet puts on such a show. He really does have such a soft heart, but he tries to act so callous – I can only imagine how tough he’d play at his most vulnerable.”

“As if. He’s a bleeding heart and everybody knows it.” His hands on your sides, his body shifting underneath yours. After gesturing for Diavolo to get out of the way, he laid you onto your back, remaining between your legs. “He cries when you touch him, doesn't he?”

It took you a second to realize who he was talking about, another for an achingly familiar bitter taste to spread over your tongue. “He’s mean.”

It slipped out before you realized you’d found your voice, before you could dampen the mawkish immaturity in your tone. Satan’s eyes widened, and Diavolo let out a breath of a laugh. When you lapsed back into silence, silently cursing yourself for being so careless, Diavolo encouraged you, taking your limp hand in his and squeezing softly. “He’s mean to you, pet?”

Satan was undoing the sash of your robe, now, melodically pushing the material off of your chest, letting it pool on either side of your form. You let your head lull to the side, making a half-hearted effort to weigh your options, but you were already talking. You wanted to. You needed to get something out of this, even if you’d be fishing coals out of a hearth that’d long-since burnt through everything useful. “He’s… he’s not always fair.” And then, as Satan lowered his head, pointed teeth nipping at the skin of your collarbone. “He gets too rough.”

“That does sound like him.” He was doing it, again – ebbing into that patronizing tone. “He can be terribly insensitive.”

He took a moment to nudge his pants off of his hips, to free his—

Oh.

If he’d gotten nothing else from Lucifer, he’d inherited his older brother’s cock.

His patience, too. Your panic must’ve been visible, because Satan seemed to take a certain joy in wrapping a fist around the overwhelming girth of his base, in lining up the flushed head of his cock with your dripping entrance. There was a slight pause as he positioned himself above you – his free hand planted next to your head, his chest only a breath from yours. “Tell us what he does to you, kitten.”

It wasn’t a request, but an order. You followed it without question, desperate to distract yourself, to put something between you and the sensation of his tip pressing into you. “H-He likes it when I’m—” Your voice cut out, the air catching in your throat as he started to thrust into you – really thrust into you, bottoming out in one steady stroke. Frantically, desperately, you babbled on, only half-aware of what you were actually saying. “He likes to tie me down, and—and he never stops when I ask him to. Sometimes, i—it feels like he's trying to—”

Finally, mercifully, your voice gave out, any will of your own you might’ve held onto forced out of you as his hips crashed into yours and he pressed into something very deep and very painful inside of you. Your gaze shot to Diavolo, your expression pleading for any help he’d be able to offer, but he only met your eyes, only fell back onto his folded legs and allowed a single hand to fall into his lap, wrapping around the base of his cock. It wasn’t quite heartbreak, but it was close.

It was nearly more than you could take

You looked away as quickly as you could, but the alternative wasn’t much better – Satan, above you, disheveled blonde hair framing his face, his lips slightly parted, his pupils blown wider than you’d ever seen them. He’d never been so— he’d never been so feral, so mindless, so desperate to reach something you didn’t know if you wanted to name. If he’d been trying to restrain himself, he wasn’t trying anymore. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he immediately fell into a near-violent rhythm, the force of his hips against yours enough to bruise.

It was more of a muted ache than any kind of pleasure – pressing into the walls of your cunt, beating at your cervix, leaving you balling at the comforter Diavolo had laid beneath your form, grappling for a scrap of stability. There was nothing to be found, of course, nor did Satan seem sympathetic to your search. If anything, he seemed dissatisfied, letting out a primal snarl as he pulled out of you completely and straightened his back. You didn’t have time to be grateful before his hands were on your hips, before you were being thrown onto your stomach, hauled onto your knees, and held there as he plunged back into you, bullying his cock into your overstimulated pussy. It was all you could do to cross your arms underneath your head, to hide your face within the self-made shelter. It was all you could do not to cry out. Knowing Satan, that only make this all so much worse.

But, Diavolo wasn’t so easily deterred. While Satan fucked into you, he moved in to claim unoccupied territory. Delicately, more so than you could trust, he took you by the chin, tilting your head back until you were staring up at him, until it was impossible to disguise the cracked mewls and jagged moans trickling from your lips. He was still jerking himself off – his strokes long and languid, making no effort to match Satan’s pace – and you half-expected him to push your head into his lap, to leave you choking on his cock until he and Satan had both gotten their fill. But, his true intentions were nearly more painful than anything you would’ve been able to dredge out of the shadowed alcoves of your mind. Lowering himself to your height, he moved to kiss you, but seemed to falter, only coming close enough for his lips to ghost over your own as he spoke.

“I thought about killing you, you know,” he muttered, taking your glossy eyes and soft, airy noises as ample proof of acknowledgment. “He would’ve been upset, but he can only stay mad for so long. A human life is already so short, a few stolen years wouldn’t really matter.”

He was quiet for a long moment, but eventually, there was a sigh, a slight shake of his head. “You’re lucky that you’re as precious to them as you are. If you weren’t, I might’ve snuffed you out before you had a chance to borrow under his skin.”

Before you could so much as think about responding, his mouth was on yours and he was kissing you violently, holding you steady as his teeth clashed against yours, as you felt his tongue invade your mouth and a throaty groan reverberate against your lips. Distantly, you were aware of Satan’s barbed tail wrapping around your thigh, of a deep growl somewhere in the distance, and then his teeth were digging into the meat of your shoulder, not as much of a love bite as it was a primal attempt to tear off a piece of you.

There was another to the curve of your neck, not quite as brutal but twice as deep, and another to the soft junction between your jaw and your throat, too high and too visible to be easily hidden. Diavolo held on for as long as he could, but you were pulled from his grasp and dragged into Satan’s sadistic embrace, forced into a kiss as clumsy as it was blood-soaked. Pointed fangs tore into your lower lip, a bruising soreness forming around the corners of your mouth, but none of it could block out the agony of his cock twitching inside of you, of his pace stuttering before falling into something chaotic and disorganized and euphoric. He bent your own body to his will, your knees nearly buckling as he fucked into you with a renewed strength, as your cunt clenched involuntarily around him and fed into his ego-driven pleasure. His mouth remained locked against yours as he reached his climax and brought you to yours with wild, feral thrusts – filling you with something warm and vile while you were unable to tell yourself you hated it.

The moment he broke away from you, you collapsed into yourself, your strength long-spent and your stamina depleted to nothing. Diavolo clicked his tongue, and more out of reflex than genuine curiosity, you looked toward him, raising your head just enough to meet his eyes. A mistake, obviously. You felt it before you could realize what was happening – smoldering and wet, thick ropes of cum soon strung over your face and chest, clinging to your skin like the remnants of some awful parasite. He was still smiling. Satan, too, when you thought to pay attention to the lips tracing over your burning skin, following the curve of your spine before finally, finally drawing back from you, pulling away just far enough for you to pretend they'd never been there at all.

Diavolo did the same, breaking into a dull simper. “Poor thing,” he cooed, reaching out to cup your cheek. “Should I ask Barbatos to run a bath?”

“That won’t be necessary.” You could hear him push himself to his feet, beginning towards the bedroom door.

“It's been so long since we've invited my brother to spend time with us. Wouldn't it be cruel to leave him out again?”

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ratbraindraws · 1 year

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im so down bad for possessive dia 😭

#obey me diavolo #om! diavolo #obey me fanart #yandere obey me #yandere diavolo

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wishluc · 11 months

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More thoughts on the Obey Me Shared Darling Au (OMSDAU?). This has a focus on the demon brothers—the beginning of it all. -🧵

There was something...odd about the brothers' behavior lately.

Flickering glances following your every move. Hushed whispers behind closed doors. Sounds of something heavy being moved about...And a potent cloud of magic hanging in the air.

You are only able to imagine what they are planning, but that alone was enough to have the hairs on the back of your neck sitting at high alert. Inquiries were pointless. Conversations looped back to where they began. Time was spent wasted in this purgatory of back and fourth. Of questions and non-answers.

Paranoia began to weigh on you. Weary and exhausted, it came as no surprise when fatigue finally caught up to you. As you drifted off into a deep and tired slumber, you began to wonder if perhaps that was their plan all along.

You had waken in your own room. Your own bed. Everything was perfectly normal; nothing was out of place. Your shoes, which you had kicked off haphazardly the night before, were still scattered across your floor. The book you had been reading was on your nightstand right where you had left it. Everything is as it was.

But this is not your bedroom.

It was Lilith's.

If it weren't for the densely packed magic in the air, perhaps you wouldn't have noticed. The room had been augmented with a variety of spacial enchantments. Lucifer's handiwork, no doubt.

A nauseous sensation washed over your body as you attempted a teleportation spell.

You tried a different spell, and a splitting headache tore into you.

Another spell. You felt something crawling under your skin.

You try again. Phantom water pools in your lungs.

Again. Tremors shake your body.

Again. Your leg cramps and you fall.

Again. Footsteps?

Again. A door creaks open.

Again. You look up blearily at the seven shadows in front of you.

Again. Your vision begins to fade.

OMSDAU I think works? Yeah? I'll make a tag for it! I stuck to detailing more with Mammon, Levi and Beel here! Will delve into the others next time :D

Initially, you believed their increasingly concerning dependency on you was because of their lack of...social connections. There's only so much they want to tell each other, and so much they could tell Diavolo and the other exchange students, right? You just happened to grow closer with them than the others, and obviously, having a new friend would entail them telling you about all their issues and dragging you along on every little misadventure. Surely, this wasn't as unhealthy as you fear?

At first, Mammon's whining and Levi's poorly hidden jealousy was almost cute. Flattering, even, that two of Hell's most infamous demons would crave your full attention so badly. Mammon's pouting and prodding while you were getting ready, asking if you "really have to go?" instead of staying in with him, then him changing tactics and huffing, pretending like it doesn't bother him at all made you smile, when he first started. It was fun to squeeze his cheeks and coo at him, promising he was still your favorite and that you'd be back very soon, fun to placate him and watch him suddenly grow bashful under your affectionate attacks. You had no idea that you were feeding this habits, that he thought you always playing along and giggling was a good thing. You don't find it overbearing until it's too late, until you have to shake him off every time you step outside without him, or worst yet, with one of his brothers instead. You think he would understand, if you explained yourself a little more clearer, but with every attempt, nothing changes.

And you don't know which is worse now—Levi's passive-aggressiveness or his blatant displeasure—whenever you spent time with anyone that isn't him. The days you spend over at Diavolo's castle, for instance, though beyond your control, never fails to frustrate him. He broods in his room until you come in yourself and flatter him with reminders of how much you missed him and how terrible the days without him were (you hold your tongue when you go to praise Barbatos's cooking or Diavolo's hospitality when he's around, too). It’s difficult to appeal to him constantly, to keep in mind if Levi’s around and choose your words carefully. You have to pretend like his actions don’t frustrate you, lest you vex him further. It’s a terrible game of tiptoeing around his feelings, and you’re tired of it. Before, his enthusiasm about his games and mangas also excited you, happy to have something vaguely familiar in the unfamiliar world you found yourself in to help bide the time and keep yourself occupied. And, you thought, it could help you get closer with Levi. However, after receiving innumerable recommendations, to the point you were struggling to even keep up with him, you started losing interest. You got used to feigning excitement whenever Levi detailed every scene he liked, though you couldn't remember anything he actually said, started searching up the basic summary of all the games he recommended so you could pretend like you gave it a try; though this lost it's efficiency quickly, and he started demanding you play in his room.

And Beel, who, though you'd never admit it out loud, was easily your favorite to hang out with these days, was...acting strange. Usually, he'd never partake in the rule enforcing and the stalking (you'd long figured out it was the brothers, though you weren't sure if they knew).—at least not outright, but recently, things had been different. Beel is uncharacteristically clingy, asking to follow when you go out alone, starts working at the same place you work at part time, and consequently gets you both fired after almost destroying the building. He's always been observant, you know, but these days, it feels like he's searching for something in you, and it frightens you as much as it unnerves you. You should do something about it, but what? What could you do to stop him looking at you like he can see through your words (it sounds crazy, especially because this is Beel, but you swear his eyes harden when he catches you in a lie) and dissect your every movement? It's Beel, you tell yourself, Beel, who's never had ulterior motives. He's always had your best interest in heart, and he loves you, not the kind of love that fills you with dread and despair, but something more genuine. But it's also Beel that blocks the door without being urged to when you try to bolt out after realizing just how deep of a hole you've landed into, and it's also Beel that looks away when you plead with him for an explanation.

You wonder if it's Lucifer that casted the spell that keeps you in here, or if Satan helped him, too. How ironic would that be? You wonder who else helped with the planning, if it was Asmo who ordered all the identical furniture and if it was Belphie who kept an eye on you most often, checking in on your dreams to attempt to sway your view of them. Barbatos likely had a role in it, especially if Diavolo asked him to, but the betrayal doesn't sting nearly as it does when it concerns the brothers. The rest, you could, perhaps, explain, but not the brothers, who you devoted so much of your time and energy to. Who you put before yourself and entertained despite your simmering anger. You practically walked into the twisted web of a trap they slowly wove around you, because you trusted them.

And all you got in return was this miserable room.

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