The new Obey me til death do us part....uhh...so many different feelings....I asked well as many many others were waiting for this with baited breath....The fandom needed fed.....and from what I've seen it's happened. I'm just a little disappointed though. The full body of Beel is disproportionate.....like I don't know what program.they used for developing this part for the game...but it failed miserably. And,it's not like I didn't enjoy Beelâs route so far....I enjoy that they have given him some depth...and his love for the animals at the sanctuary, but there really hasn't been any spicy innuendo, like I've seen with the other brothers. Am I just way too impatient?
The cards so far.....the cards are top tier.....they need to keep that up.
NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.
Fml....I had submitted the survey for the Sealed with a Kiss Tier for Kickstarter.....and apparently I missed an email that asked for re submission by 7/30. So.....I won't get my email from Beel.
âHmm?â Beelzebub let out a confused grumble after banging his head on the fridge door. He was raiding it for midnight snacks as usual when a sudden noise startled him. Thinking youâd caught him heâd quickly looked up only to smack his head and have something fall on him from the shelf heâd hit.
He ran his fingers through his hair to see what had fallen on him to discover a strange sickly green slime. He licked it and dizziness immediately overtook his body. This was unusual as normally he could digest just about anything without any negative side effects but this time he immediately slumped onto the cold kitchen floor.
When he opened his eyes again he was in bed. He was grateful to whoever had moved him somewhere nice, unlike Belphie the cold hard ground would hurt for him to sleep on. You were normally the one to catch him at midnight so he began thinking of you affectionately and wondering how youâd moved him to the bed considering how much smaller you were.
Feeling better again he got out of bed careful not to disturb his twin and walked downstairs to head to your room but as he passed by the kitchen he heard something raising the fridge. An overwhelming sense to protect his food came over him and he bolted to the kitchen to confront the food thief but stopped dead in his tracks instead.
What he saw confused him more than anything. The person raiding the fridge was not one person but three. Three very small identical versions of himself. He began to think heâd cloned himself by accident when eating the weird slime but when one of his mini clones turned to see him he choked on his food and gasped âPapa!â
The two âclonesâ beneath him also gasped after shoving as much cake into their mouths as they could and they hid whatever was in their hands behind their backs as they stared at bewildered Beelzebub.
âUmmâŠâ one said nervously and looked at his identical copies for help.
âS-sorry DadâŠâ the smallest one said, staring at his feet while he shoveled another helping of cake into his mouth.
âBoys!â Beelzebub jumped as your voice called out loudly from behind him and the three boys dove to hide behind the kitchen island out of view of you.
You stared at your husband and triplet sons with a flashlight in hand. âBeelzebub what did I tell you about letting them have midnight snacks!? And for goodness sake that was supposed to be for their birthday tomorrow.â
âIâummâI donât get itâŠâ Beelzebub said trying to wrap his head around what was happening.
âClearlyâŠâ you mumbled. You knew Beelâs stomach had a mind of its own but why did he have to pass that down to his kids?
âBenjamin, Bennet, Benedict, go to bed now. If youâre lucky and behave tomorrow I might make you another cake.â
âAww!â
âWe might not get one!?â
âIâm going to sleep! Good night!â
The three cried out at once and grabbed each otherâs hands forming a chain as they rushed upstairs to their rooms.
You watched them go, hands on your hips with a stern expression before turning back to your husband who seemed to be sleepwalking or in a hungry stupor as he didnât seem to be fully aware right now.
âBeel sweetie are you alright?â You decided to check on him and he looked down at you with a blush in his cheeks and shook his head.
âWhatâs wrong?â
âIâŠwhatâsâŠwhatâs happening? I ate something weirdâŠâ
You were surprised that anything could affect him when suddenly a strange event years prior came to mind and it clicked for you what was happening.
âOh! Itâs tonight,â you exclaimed and Beel jumped a little and tilted his head like a confused puppy. You grabbed his arm and dragged him to the living room. âCome here, come here! Iâm so excited to show you something.â
With a faint blush in his cheeks, Beelzebub obediently followed you to the living room and you sat him on the couch and brought him a large photo album.
You sat next to him, cuddled up closely as you opened up the album to reveal the first pictureâyour wedding photo.
Beelzebubâs throat tightened and he struggled to swallow his surprise as he watched you flip the pages of the album and listen to you explain what was happening. âYears ago you woke up one morning and began telling me all about our life together. It was the strangest thing but it was so cute and it made me want to have that futureâŠstrangely everything you said came to pass including that weâd have triplets.â
Beelzebub looked at the photos in awe. This was his future he was experiencing? He couldnât even think about how angry Barbatos might be, he was way too excited by this surprise.
âBarbatos gave me something strange the other day,â you continued and held up a necklace that had been hidden beneath your top. Inside something green was glowing. âOne of my magic experiments had an unexpected result because it wasnât supposed to be eaten,â you gave him a teasing look. âAnd you ended up in the futureâŠand this,â you gestured to the bottle of green liquid, âis the antidote to send you back.â
Beelzebub looked at the necklace and frowned. As he looked over each of the photos in your family album and he took in your heavenly scent and gentle touch on his arm, he didnât want to go back.
You knew that sad look in his eyes and returned the expression. You loved your current Beelzebub and had been through so much with him but you couldnât deny youâd miss your old far more innocent Beelzebub too.
You pressed the bottle to his lips and at first he rejected so you gave him an affectionate kiss to motivate him and left him with a few encouraging words. âTell me everything when you get back. Tell me about our wedding and our boys and our adventuresâŠmake your future happen.â
He nodded confidently and gave you one last look before downing the green slime.
When he opened his eyes again he saw you next to him, clasping his hands and looking worried.
âBeelââ
He silenced you with a warm kiss and looked into your eyes with more love than youâd ever seen and with conviction he grabbed your hands and told you, âWeâre going to get married and have triplets.â
Beelzebub is gluttony incarnate, the physical representation of craving, consumption and need for more. He never feels full no matter how much he eats, an empty ache always lingering.
So how does he feel when such a soft, sweet and round thing enters Devildom?
He's obsessed the second he sets eyes on you, he so desperately wants to sink his teeth into your chubby little cheeks.
While he is gluttony, you're his opposite, you're satiated, curves that show you end your meals feeling full and happy.
He watches you like a hawk, absolutely transfixed on how you move, how you speak, how you exist.
After a full week of his odd and borderline creepy behavior you confront him, not out of anger or malice, just concerned. You don't detect any violence or rage behind his actions.
You find him in his usual spot, rummaging through the refrigerator, empty containers already piled near his feet.
"Hey Beel?" Your greeting causes Beel to whip around wide eyed "Oh, hi." He says through a mouthful of a mysterious goo "Do you have a minute? I wanted to talk to you about something." He nods, scooping up a few more snacks and settling down at the island in the center of the kitchen.
You follow, leaning your hip against the edge of the counter, Beelzebub's eyes tracing your figure as you shift.
"I just wanted to check in with you, you've been a bit weird towards me since I've shown up and I was hoping we could hash out any issues you might have with me being here." The tips of his ears go pink and he looks away, crumbling a chip between his fingers "I don't have any issues with you," He shifts uncomfortably "It's just that," you raise your eyebrow as he struggles to get the words out "You're so..." his eyes flick back towards you "You're so chubby," his cheeks are completely red now "And I really like it." it's your turn to turn pink.
"Oh, I wasn't expecting that." you move to stand next to him "What do you mean by that?" you ask gently. He nibbles on a cracker that's smeared with a purple and orange spread and shrugs "You just look so happy, even after eating, you look so satisfied and pretty." you blink, still confused.
"I can't gain weight even though I never stop eating, so seeing you," his hand hovers near your thigh for just a second before retreating "you just look how I want to feel, and I guess," he crumples and empty snack bag "it makes me feel something other than hunger, something warm and fuzzy in my chest." you gently touch his shoulder.
You knew these brothers were burdened with an unimaginable weight but this brief glimpse inside the turmoil makes you want to hug him.
"Beel..." His hand settles on top of yours "You're so soft, even your hands..." tugging you closer so your palm is facing up, he traces the curve of your fingers, up your wrist and to your elbow, before diverting to your hips. He pauses, tipping his head to meet your gaze "Can I?" you nod and he slips his arms around you, bringing you to his chest.
A sharp shuddering sigh leaves him, almost as if he was about to cry.
"This feels so much better than I thought it would." he whispers and presses his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling quietly "You even smell good, like sunripened fruit and sugar cubes." he's shaking, clutching you like a lifeline, your own arms circling his broad shoulders and holding him just as close.
"You're mine now, no one else can have you." his teeth meet your cheek and you slap his shoulder "Don't eat me!" you both laugh, the moment warming at this new connection "I'm serious," there's a deep vulnerability in his eyes as he presses his forehead to yours "I've never felt anything like this for anyone, I want to be yours and you to be mine." he nuzzles back into your neck and you pet his hair.
description: a midnight snack before bed turned into more when you ran into the object of your recent sexual desires: beelzebub. Instead of sinking your teeth into a delicious snack, he devoured you instead, and it was more than you could have asked for.
beel felt terribly guilty for destroying your bedroom, it was certainly not his intention, and now the least he could do was to accommodate you in his room and let you use his bed while he would take his brotherçȘ¶ć±.
guilt buzzed in his head as he tried to get to sleep. maybe that wasnçȘ¶ćČ the thing keeping him from sleeping, though, and for once in his life, it wasnçȘ¶ćČ even hunger. well, not the hunger for food, at least.
his eyes snap open the moment a soft moan slips from your lips.
he hears you moan as you touch yourself, a few feet away from him in his bed. he can smell the scent of your wet panties, the lewd sound of your fingers reaching for that sweet spot inside your pretty cunt.
beel wonders if your fingers can reach it, if they can fill you as well as his could, so thick compared to yours.
his cock drools pre-cum, throbs against his hard stomach as he slowly releases it from his boxers.
your hand pressed to your lips is not enough to muffle your moans. this drives him wild.
he just wants to hear your sweet voice. he wants to look at the expression on your face while you fuck your fingers in your tight creamy hole.
This is my first fic! It ended up being way longer than I intended and thereâs more fluff and self-insert stuff than intended but there is also very much smut.
Work: A New Cure for Insomnia
WC: 7.6k
Relationship: Beelzebub x Reader, Beelzebub x MC
AFAB reader, she/her pronouns and gendered terms for reader
Warning: Explicit
Description:Â M/C hasnât been able to sleep through the night in a week. Luckily, she runs into Beelzebub, who might have just the solution she needs.
M/C knew two things before she even opened her eyes; first, it was too damn early too be awake. Second, there was no way she was going to fall back asleep easily. Still, she tried to fight against what she knew to be true, keeping her eyes shut and praying to whatever deity was listening that she would be able to sleep until at least a semi-reasonable time. After what felt like an hour, but was more likely just a few minutes, she opened her eyes and flipped over towards where she left her phone to charge overnight.
âAre you shitting me?â she muttered to herself, rolling her eyes. It wasnât even 3:30 in the morning.
omg! this was supposed to be posted on the 30th but schoolwork got the best of me. this fic was in collaboration with @ficsforgaza's kinktober event! thank you for being so patient ^^
The scent of pumpkin and vanilla nearly knocks Beel out of his chair when you sit down next to him. He scrunches the nose, sniffing the air around you. The aroma is unmistakably yoursâbut thereâs something else beneath it, too. Something warmer, something sweeter.
He frowns, sucking in a breath and leaning back in his chair.
âGood morning,â you hum.
âMorning.â
Beel canât help but glance around the room, squinting at anyone that so much as looks your way. Surely heâs not the only one that smells it, surely heâs not the only one thatâs turned on by it.
His frown only deepens when he sees the way youâre being looked atâwhen he sees the glazed over eyes of the demons around him. He shifts closer to you, clamping a protective hand over the back of your chair.
Not his human. Not today.
â
Beel barely manages to make it through the class. His pants have gotten uncomfortably tight and his nostrils burn with your delectable scent. Heâs more than grateful when you wave goodbye to him and gather your books, shuffling out the door to your next class.
Even after youâve retreated down the halls, the smell lingers. Itâs like a taunt, beckoning him closer and closer to something he canât have.
Beel lets himself take a few breaths, digging his calloused fingers into the meat of his thighs. He can do this. Only a few more classesâall of which youâre not even in.Â
But you still linger in the corner of his mind through all of his classes. The way you looked, the way you smelled, the way the others were looking at you. Itâs all too much.
Beelâs leg shakes, a sour taste in his mouth as he watches the clock above the door. Just a few more minutes and he can go home. Just a few more minutes and he can see you again and reassure himself.
And then the bell rings and heâs springing to his feet, practically barrelling down the halls to where your locker is. He leans against it as casually as he can, broad shoulders resting against cold metal, and waits for you.
He smells you before he sees you, the dizzying aroma almost sending him to his knees. He watches as you skip towards him, a wide smile on your face and a hand raised in greeting.
You beam at him, âhey!âÂ
Beel nods as nonchalantly as he can, sliding away from your locker to give you access. Youâre so close to him that he can feel your warmth, savoring your scent andâhe frowns.
He looks you up and down, examining every inch of your skin and RAD uniform. He sniffs again, brows furrowing. There, buried beneath your vanilla pumpkin heaven, is something new. Something unfamiliar. Something wrong.Â
He freezes when you rest a hand on his shoulder. âEverything okay?â You ask.
He clears his throat, subconsciously puffing out his chest. âYeah. Fine, yeah. How were your classes?â
You close your locker, slinging your bag over your shoulder and starting the walk back to the House of Lamentation. You excitedly tell him about your day, going into detail about all of the things that happened while Beel nods along.
Guilt grasps him. Usually he loves listening to you talk about your day, chiming in with random little questions to keep you talking. But he canât focus todayânot when you look so pretty and you smell so good and some other demonâs scent is all over you.
Anger bubbles in his chest everytime he catches a hint of it. Itâs him that you should smell like right now. His scent should be the one surrounding you, scaring away those scummy lesser demons. The thoughts burrow into his skull, spinning around until heâs trapped in a nauseating cycle.
Heâs snapped out of his thoughts when you brush a hand down his arm. He flinches away from your touch, violet eyes baring down on you.
âAre you sure youâre okay?â
Youâre standing in front of the door to the House of Lamentation looking at him with vulnerable eyes. You can tell somethingâs upâyouâve been able to tell since you sat down next to him this morning. Youâre not stupid, after all.Â
He looks over his shoulder as if he expects someone to be listening in. âWhose scent is that?â
Your mouth falls open. âWhat?â
âThat smell,â his tone gets stronger as he goes on, âwhose is it? Itâs all over you.â
You raise an arm, sniffing yourself. You cock your head at him in confusion. âDo you mean my deodorant? Or my body spray?â
He swallows hard and shakes his head. He finds himself wishing he hadnât said anything, that heâd ignored it and gone to his room and jerked off until the thought of you melted away. Because now youâre looking at him expectantly as if this is something he can just explain.Â
âNo, justââ He shakes his head, ânevermind.â
Beel moves past you, muttering something to himself and throwing open the door. You follow after him, brows still knit together in confusion. Youâve never seen him like thisâall frustrated and high strung.
You grab him before you can even think about it. Your fingers wrap around his wrist, clutching and tugging him back towards you. His head whips around, eyes wide and confused as they focus on you.
âWhat are you doing?â
âYou seem upset,â you murmur.
Beelâs eyes stay locked on yours and he doesnât bother to move your hand off of his. The rise and fall of his chest grows faster with each passing second, each breath a torturous inhale of that unfamiliar scent.Â
Your voice shakes when you speak again, confusion and embarrassment coiling in your stomach. âI want to help you. Let me help you.â
Youâre not sure who initiates it but suddenly youâre pressed tight against him, lips pressed against his. His arms are tight on your body, holding you to him like heâs afraid youâll leave at any minute.
You reach around his shoulders, hands clawing at the fabric of his jacket while your lips move against his. Each shallow, gasping breath only leads to more kissing, more intensity.Â
He inhales you with every passing second, only driving his desperation further. He crouches down, hands sliding down your body as he does, and then heâs tossing you over his shoulder.
You squeal at your world turning upside down, your legs hanging limply down his chest. He hoists you up with one arm, his warm hand on the small of your back as he carries you up the stairs to his room.Â
Anticipation sets your nerves on fire, an unbearable heat coursing through your body. Nerves bubble up like soda pop in your tummy when his door comes into view.
His grip on you only tightens as he kicks his door open and slams it behind you, dropping you on the bed in front of him. You land in his pile of blankets and pillows with a squeak, scurrying back towards his headboard.Â
He crawls up the bed towards you, crouching between your legs. âStill wanna help?â He rasps.
You bite your lip and nod, your knees lazily falling to either side to give him more access.Â
He rubs a hand up and down your thigh, getting closer and closer to the waistband of your pants with every stroke. You let your eyes flutter close, focused only on the feeling of his touch.
His fingers lock into the hem of your pants and then heâs tugging them down, your underwear coming down with them. As soon as your pussy hits the cold air, you gasp, trying to close your legs.
Beel catches your thighs, throwing them over his shoulders so he can stuff his face between them. He inhales, eyes flicking up to meet yours, âdamn, you smell so fucking good.â
You look away shyly, your legs shaking in anticipation. Soft breaths roll over your sensitive core, each one sending shivers down your spine.
Beel stays poised between your legs, breathing in that hot, sweet scent of your dripping cunt laid out in front of him. You smell so sweet, so pureâso his. And yet, that other bitter demonic smell still lingers in the air. Heâll have to change that.
A moan escapes you when he spits on your pussy, rubbing it in with his index finger. He traces circles up and down your slit, collecting the slick that pools onto his sheets and bringing it up to his mouth to taste.Â
And then heâs diving into your pussy headfirst, lips locking around your clit. His hair tickles the sides of your thighs, orange strands bobbing with each moment. You reach out and tangle your fingers in his hair, using it to tug him further into you.
The pressure only drives him to keep going. His tongue circles around your entrance, a finger sliding inside of you with ease. The sudden fullness has your eyes rolling back, thighs clenching around his face. He continues to pump in and out of you, teeth gently grazing against your swollen clit.
You cry out for him, pulling on his hair so hard that it leaves his scalp tingling. He doesnât care, though. All he cares about are your thighs shaking around his shoulders and the way your pussy is drooling on his tongue.
âSo fucking good,â he moans. âSo fucking mine.â
Tears build up in your lashes, a white hot knot forming in your stomach. Through your wet eyes, you can barely make out the sight of Beelâs face shoved between your legs, his hips grinding into the mattress in desperation. He lets out a soft whine into your pussy, and thatâs all it takes to send you over the edge.Â
You cum so hard your vision goes blurry. Your thighs shake, clenching and unclenching around his face as you ride out your high. He keeps his tongue lined up at your entrance, greedily drinking up your juices.
Youâre panting when you come to, your head spinning from the pleasure. Beel pulls his face away from your pussy, blinking at your disheveled form on his mattress.
He smirks at you, mouth glistening with your juices. âThink you can keep going, sweetheart?â
âY-yeah,â you say weakly.
He smiles at you, quickly discarding his jeans on the floor. His boxers are stained dark from precum, his cock bulging through the fabric. You reach out, fingers gently brushing the outline of it.
He tugs down his boxers, letting his cock swing free. Itâs almost painfully hard and drenched in pre, his whole length glistening in desperation.
You pull your knees up to your chest, letting him situate himself between your legs. His tip grazes your entrance, just barely brushing against you.Â
âPlease.â You whine, âput it in.â
You hardly have any time to react before heâs pushing his cock inside of you, his thick tip stretching you in a way that has your eyes rolling back. You gather a fistful of his sheets, fingers curling around them to ground yourself. Each inch of his cock is a stretch, driving him deeper and deeper until you can feel him everywhere.
Beelâs teeth graze the side of your neck, his hips stilling inside of you to give you a minute to adjust. He leaves marks in his wake, making his way from your neck, to your jaw, and finally, your lips.
His kisses are wet and sloppy and desperate, leaving both of you panting and dizzy. And then he starts thrusting and you come undone beneath him. Whimpers and whines and the sounds of skin on skin fill the room, Beelâs hips snapping violently against yours with each thrust.
With each kiss, with each thrust, his scent washes over youâcovering the scent that had marked you before. The sudden change only spurs him further, his motions getting more and more desperate.
âSmell so nice,â he groans, âgonna make you smell like me. Gonna make sure all these demons know who you belong to.â
You babble in acknowledgement, your head spinning from the delicious way his cock fills you up. Each thrust drives you closer and closer to the edge, his filthy words only adding onto the pleasure.Â
âGonna fill this pussy up so everyone can smell my cum inside you.â
Your muscles spasm, your pussy clenches and suddenly youâre coming undone once more. You reach for his shoulders, tugging him down on top of you while you unravel.Â
Beel keeps going, getting closer and closer to his own high. âYouâd like that, wouldnât you?â He pants, âif everyone knew how good you are for me. If everyone knew I claimed you like this.â
You manage a soft little âyesâ and thatâs all it takes to have him cumming inside of you, hot ropes of cum filling you up. He drives his hips as deep as possible, bottoming out so he doesnât waste a single drop.
He stays inside of you even after he finishes, his sweaty body caging yours beneath him.Â
âAre you gonna move?â You say.
He considers it for a moment, inhaling the scent of your skin. He frownsâyou donât smell enough like him. At least, not yet. But a few more rounds should change that.
(if you like content like this, likes, comments & rbs are greatly appreciated! ^^)
"Kill your darlings" means "if something is holding you back, get rid of it, even if it sounds pretty."
That's it! That's all it means! It means if you're stuck and stalled out on your story and you could fix the whole block by removing something but you're avoiding removing that thing because it's good, you remove that thing. That's the darling.
It does NOT mean
That you have to get rid of your self-indulgent writing
That you should delete something just because you like it (?wtf?)
That you need to kill off characters (??? what)
That you have to pare your story down to the absolute bare bones
That you have to delete anything whatsoever if you don't want to
The POINT is that you STOP FEELING GUILTY for throwing out good writing that isn't SERVING THE STORY.
The POINT is that you don't get so HUNG UP on the details that you lose sight of the BIG PICTURE.
