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yanderegarden · 11 days ago

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Love 100mg Warning: May be addictive

Katsuki Bakugo

Student! Katsuki Bakugo x Addict! Darling

TW: yandere-themes, non-con/dub-con ideations, profanity, kidnapping, emotional, verbal, & physical abuse, implied drug-use & addiction, withdrawal symptoms, violence, blood, forced confinement. Fem reader

Tip-Jar

You and Bakugo grew up in the same town, on the same street, and attended the same schools, yet barely exchanged anything more than a simple glance in the hallways.

Growing up, you can recall briefly watching him from the entry hall window of your home, admiring his confidence even as a child. His belief that he was capable of anything could be felt even from houses away.

Your parents kept you sheltered as a child. You had the urge to go and play with the other kids, but knowing there wasn’t much you could do, you were content staying inside.

Developing a passion for your studies at a young age, you became fascinated with your courses. Excelling in middle school, you were one of the top students.

It wasn’t until one year in middle school that you were formally introduced to Bakugo—when you both tied for first place in the science fair. You had envisioned Bakugo as someone who was confident, strong-willed, and kind...

Little did you know, his jealousy of being at the top was paired with the will to be the only one there. You felt an uneasy feeling standing next to him as you both had your picture taken by the school newspaper, holding a trophy together. You won’t forget how you tried congratulating him, saying, "I don’t know how they expected us to share this medal," attempting to lighten the mood. But he simply replied, "Keep the stupid medal. It'll probably be the last one you get." From that moment on, you steered clear of Bakugo.

No longer did you have long, pondering stares at him from your bedroom window, fantasizing about what he was like or how he treated his friends. Instead, you chose to focus on yourself, your studies, and your life. When graduation day came, you applied to the public high schools in the area. Considering the reaction you had faced when Bakugo declared he'd be the only one attending UA High, you decided to stay away. You had seen the way he treated Midoriya and chose not to touch that with a ten-foot pole. Why take the risk? you asked yourself

It wasn't until your parents told you that a mutual hero friend of theirs had extended a letter of recommendation for UA High’s General Studies course and applied on your behalf.

The school welcomed your application, considering that a pro hero had recommended you for your intelligence.

You told your parents it wasn’t a great idea—that it would be expensive, that you didn’t want to place that financial burden on them, that you’d rather stay closer to home and your friends. What you didn’t disclose was that you’d rather not be anywhere near Bakugo.

They dismissed your concerns, insisting you didn’t know what you were talking about. You should be excited that a hero recommended you—it would be rude to disrespect a hero like that, they said. Do you think you know better? Eventually, they bullied you into agreeing.

And so, there you were, ready to join Class 1-C.

"This won’t be so bad?" you muttered under your breath, using the palms of your hands to flatten your uniform’s skirt and straighten your tie. You adjusted the strap of your school bag over your shoulder, took a deep breath, and forced a smile on your face—whether it was genuine or not.

The first year went by fast, and you were already in the middle of your second year, but you were drowning. Overwhelmed by your parents pressure to do well in your studies, and struggling because you still hadn't made any close friends—if any at all. You began to feel more sensitive to teachers' criticism. Riddled with anxiety whenever you saw Bakugo in the hallways, even though he barely paid you any attention.

That’s when you started sneaking out of the dorms at night.

Was it because of loneliness? Boredom? The crushing weight of responsibilities and missed, late schoolwork? You didn’t know.

But you knew that, out there, you could finally breathe.

A deep inhale of fresh air. The darkness and coolness of the night surrounding you. No thoughts—just the sound of the world asleep, the occasional car passing by.

It became a habit. Slipping out for a few hours. At first, you stayed on campus, walking the grounds, avoiding security. You had a spot near the forest where you would simply lie down and watch the stars. Then, you started venturing into the town surrounding UA.

You were surprised by how different it was at night. During the day, it was just another city. But at night? The streets were alive—vivid lights, bustling crowds, music, laughter, the smell of street food wafting through the air. You felt like an outsider at UA high, but it was different when you went out at night. At first, you were nervous to explore. You stuck to familiar places close to school, opting to visit a ramen shop, and after a warm meal, your belly full, your eyelids grew heavy. You began to get ready to leave, until a young man—who looked about your age—smiled at you. You glanced down, blushing. He approached the table. "Hello," he greeted. You hesitated but nodded. "You can sit next to me if you’d like."

You talked. What felt like minutes turned into an hour. He never ordered anything, but eventually, he asked if you’d like to walk around town. You agreed. He was polite. A gentleman, you thought. Opening doors for you, holding your bag, eventually—your hand.

You felt flattered. Someone was finally paying attention to you.

Your quiet, shy demeanor often came off as rude to others, but in reality, being sheltered for so long had made you excel academically but fail socially. So when a cute boy your age showed interest, you felt a warmth in your chest.

He bought you tea. Took you to a park. The two of you sat on a bench, watching the koi fish in a pond. Then, you looked up and caught him staring at you. His face instantly flushed, sheepishly laughed and quickly looked away. You giggled. Finally, he asked, "So, what’re you doing out here so late? A girl as pretty as you shouldn’t be out here on the mean streets all alone," he joked.

You laughed, explaining how you felt like you couldn’t breathe inside the dorms, how you were stressed from loneliness, overwhelmed by homework. You rambled, spilling your guts to a stranger.

But he let you.

You apologized for talking so much, but he simply shook his head.

"No need to apologize. I understand. I was going to a high school around here, but I eventually dropped out. My parents kicked me out, and now I live in an apartment down here."

You frowned. "Hmm… I’m sorry."

"I'm alright. I'd rather live on my own than have my parents nagging me every day. Better this way," he said. You agreed, somewhat relating to his situation. "Especially since I can do this all I want now." He pulled out what looked like a cigarette, lit it, and took a slow drag. "Oh shit, sorry. Did you want some?" he asked while letting out a cough. You shook your head. "Oh no, thank you. What even is it?" He smirked. "Weed." You gave him a confused look. "Devil's lettuce?" he teased. "Cannabis?" You laughed, turning red, embarrassed by your own naivety. You had heard of it, of course, but you had never seen or smelled it before.

Suddenly, you were fascinated. "What does it do?" you asked curiously. He smiled. "C'mere."

You leaned in, and so did he—until his lips pressed against yours. You kissed him back, only to feel smoke filling your lungs. You coughed, your eyes widening. Then, out of nowhere, an overwhelming urge to laugh took over you, so you did. And so did he.

That night was the beginning.

Sneaking out to meet him, to smoke, to escape—it became a habit. A few weeks passed, and then he introduced you to alcohol. Then, other substances.

You started spending nights at his apartment.

You felt guilty, knowing your parents and teachers would disapprove of this behavior. But you didn’t care.

The stress, the loneliness, the weight of expectations—it all disappeared when you were with him, when you were using. You began to love being high.

You barely made it through your second year with passing grades. You were forced to take summer classes. Eventually, the school had to intervene. A meeting was called with your parents, the principal, and the vice principal. They listed everything—your grades, your frequent absences, your improper dresscode.

"We’re so very sorry for our daughter. Please excuse her shameful behavior. We have failed as parents, but we will do our best to get her back on the right path," your parents exclaimed, bowing their heads in shame.

You sat there, numb. Unmoved. It wasn’t until after the meeting that your parents let loose, yelling at you for what felt like hours. You tried to find your passion for studying again, but the truth was, your real passion had become the feeling of being inebriated.

Eventually, you learned how to balance doing the bare minimum in school while still getting high your last year. You started sneaking your friend into the dorms, buying drugs from him, getting high in your room.

"Wow, this school is for rich kids, huh? You never told me you went to a rich kid school. Are you rich?" he asked, looking around with amusement. You laughed at his dorky demeanor. "No, I’m not. My stupid parents made me go here on a scholarship. I hate it." He chuckled, and you sighed. That night, you showed him around campus, wandering the grounds.

Eventually, you stopped by a vending machine, digging into your pocket for some change. Then, you heard footsteps. You turned quickly, covering his mouth with your hand. "Be quiet," you mouthed, bringing a finger to your lips.

His eyes widened.

You could tell—he was scared. Scared to be caught, to be punished. Arrested... again. Then, just like that, your oh-so-reliable friend chose to run. You slapped your forehead and groaned loudly. The footsteps were getting closer. Panic set in. You crouched down, pressing yourself against the vending machine side, hoping—praying—that whoever was approaching wouldn’t walk past.

You shut your eyes. Your heart pounded in your ears.

Then—

"What’re you doing crouching by a vending machine?"

Your eyes snapped open.

Bakugo.

Relief left your lungs in a sharp exhale. "Oh, it’s just you," you muttered.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Just me?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

Quickly, you got up, dusted off your knees, and tried to walk past him—only to feel a firm hand grip the sleeve of your collar.

"Who was that with you?" he demanded.

"Who? What? He was n— I mean, there was no one with me."

"Hey!" He shoved you back against the vending machine.

Your breath hitched.

"I don’t need off-campus losers sneaking in and causing problems for me. I’m on my way to the top, and I don’t have time for trash like that screwing things up. Keep your outside garbage out there."

You scoffed, shoving his hand off of you.

"Shut up. You don’t know anything. It’s dark out. You thought you saw two people? It was just me. Go get your eyes checked."

He pushed your arms to your sides and growled, "Listen, I know what I saw, and by the looks of it, you shouldn’t be hanging out with someone like that anyway."

You stayed silent. "I can smell the alcohol on your breath. Your hair reeks of smoke. And you look like you belong on the street right now," he seethed. You held your breath.

"What’s it matter to you?" you finally spat. "One less person to get in your way of becoming a hero, right?" He didn’t reply. So, you kept talking. "So what? You gonna tell someone? Go ahead. Do it. I don’t care anymore anyway." Your voice cracked. You looked down in shame, muttering the last part under your breath.

He sighed. "You used to be an honors student. Maybe I should tell someone—get you kicked out. Not like it’ll make much of a difference whether you’re here or not. You don’t talk to anyone here anyway,” he muttered the last part.

That was it. That was the last straw. You mustered up the courage and drove your knee into his crotch. His grip on you instantly loosened as he grunted in pain. Wasting no time, you grabbed your bag from the ground and bolted.

You didn’t stop running until you felt you were far enough away. Only then did you glance back—he was gone. When you finally reached your dorm, you collapsed onto your bed and fell asleep almost instantly.

The next few weeks were spent in a state of paranoia. Every time a teacher so much as glanced your way, your heart pounded, fearing they’d pull you aside, take you to the office, and demand to search your bag. You tried to keep a low profile. No more using in the dorms. No more using at all. But it was too difficult. After a month, it became clear—Bakugo wasn’t going to say anything. Even so, you vowed never to bring your friend onto campus again. Instead, you snuck out at night, bought what you needed, and returned immediately.

That was supposed to be the end of it. But then, you started to feel it—eyes on you. Watching. Walking from class to class. At lunch. During breaks.

It was Bakugo.

You avoided eye contact at all costs. If I don’t acknowledge him, he’ll eventually stop. But he didn’t. Instead, it led to painfully awkward encounters—bumping into each other in the hallways, turning a corner only to find him there.

You even spotted him hanging around outside the 1-C dormitories. You brushed it off. It’s just a coincidence. He must know someone here. He just happened to be there at the same time as me. Still, a voice in the back of your mind nagged at you. Why would he care about a failing, drug-using student like me?

One night, for the first time in a while, you decided to sneak out again. Creeping out of your bottom-story dormitory window, you took a quiet walk across the school grounds, heading downtown.

Just as you were about to put your headphones in, you felt one being yanked from your ear.

You jumped, heart pounding—Bakugo.

"Where d'ya think you're going? Academic students have a curfew."

You scoffed. "I could say the same for you, hero course."

You put your headphone back in and kept walking, ignoring him. But he grabbed your bag. Hard. You barely had time to react before the force yanked you backward. He caught you before you hit the ground.

"Hey, what the hell is your problem?" you snapped, shoving him off.

"You're my problem, junkie."

You scoffed, disgusted. "I'm not a junkie," you muttered under your breath. But then he grabbed your bag again, and this time, everything inside went flying onto the pavement.

Panic set in. You scrambled to pick up your things before he could see—but it was too late. His eyes scanned the scattered items: a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a pipe, multiple baggies—powders, pills, and plants.

His face went cold.

The amusement in harassing you disappeared instantly. "Fuck off already," you spat, stuffing everything back into your bag.

"I didn't realize it was this bad."

You didn’t reply. You just turned and speed-walked away.

He didn’t follow.

And you were relieved.

Months passed. Your grades tanked your 3rd year. Your addiction got worse. Skipping classes became routine—opting instead to get high at your friend’s apartment. "Alright, I'm gonna head out and re-up on that shit you like," he said, shutting the door behind him. You lay sprawled across his bed, sheets messy, clothes and empty beer cans scattered on the floor.

A cigarette dangled from your lips as you practiced blowing smoke rings. Minutes passed.

Then, the door creaked open."Hey, back already? Finally. Let's get this party started," you called out, pushing yourself up.

But as you stepped into the living room, you froze.

Standing there, bloodied and bruised, was Bakugo.

You stared.

So did he. For a long, suffocating moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, finally, you found your voice. "Whose blood is that?"

Silence.

His fists, still clenched, dripped with blood. His knuckles were torn open. He stepped closer.

"We graduate soon, y'know," he muttered. "Only a few weeks left."

Something about him felt different—more dangerous.

His presence was overwhelming. He had only grown taller, stronger over the past 2 years. Meanwhile, you felt like you had only gotten smaller.

"I'm gonna be a full-fledged hero soon." He let out a dry laugh. "My parents helped me tour condominiums. I have one now too,” he bragged.

Your heart pounded. He was dodging your question. And he was still getting closer.

Your mind raced. I just need to get past him. Run out the door. It'll be fine. "Yeah. That’s cool, Bakugo. Good for you." You forced a nod. "Listen, what are you doing her—"

"That scum you hang around with," he interrupted. "You realize he's corrupting you? And you're too much of an idiot to know any better."

Another step forward.

You moved back, knocking over a lamp. Glass shattered, startling you. "Yeah, he's just a friend I like to hang out with. I was lon—"

"You had me!" Bakugo snapped. Your breath hitched. "You could’ve talked to me."

Your brow furrowed. "What do you mean? You were in class 1-A, and I was in 1-C. I barely saw you."

"I mean as a kid." The words hit like a brick. "You barely made eye contact with me. Always thinking you were better than me. But look at you now." He sneered. "You're desperate for someone to come rescue you."

Your jaw clenched. "I don't need anyone to rescue me, Bakugo. I think you should go."

You backed up again—only to hit the wall.

Nowhere left to go. Bakugo exhaled through his nose, staring down at you. "I’m gonna help you. You’ll sober up. Gain some weight."

Your stomach twisted. "Let’s just make this easy on both of us. Come with me."

For a moment, you were silent. Then, you burst into laughter. It was loud, almost hysterical—whether it was genuine or not, you weren’t sure.

"You find this funny?"

"Yes! I do, actually!" you snapped. "I’m practically an adult! You can’t just take me. I’m not your responsibility. Now move."

You motioned for him to step aside.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he grabbed your wrist. Instinct kicked in. "Hey, get the fuck off me—!" In a blink, he flipped you over his back.

Panic surged through you. You kicked, heels slamming into his legs, struggling to break free—But his grip was like iron. And for the first time in your life… You were genuinely terrified. You pounded your fists against his back, kicked your legs, did anything to try and break free. But you were still coming down from a high—your movements sluggish, weak, useless.

Bakugo didn’t waver. His grip was iron, his hold on you unrelenting.

"Don’t worry," he kept muttering under his breath. "I’m gonna get you out of this shithole." When he pushed open the apartment stairway door, you were met with a sight that made your stomach drop.

Your friend—beaten, bruised, and bloody—lay motionless on the ground.

You screamed.

"Let go of me, you psychopath!"

He ignored you. Without hesitation, he dragged you outside and threw you into the trunk of his car. Before you could fight back, your wrists and ankles were bound tightly with zip ties. The trunk slammed shut, sealing you in darkness.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears. The drive felt endless. Every bump in the road made your restraints dig deeper into your skin. Your mind raced. Where was he taking you? What was he going to do?

By the time the car finally stopped and the trunk opened, the cold night air rushed over you. As soon as you saw an opening, you lunged, trying to make a break for it.

You didn’t get far. In seconds, he was on you—pinning you to the ground, his weight pressing you into the dirt.

"Calm the fuck down. I’m helping you." You thrashed, screamed for help, but no one came. His palm pressed against your wrists, keeping you restrained as he dragged you inside.

You barely had time to process before you were inside a large condominium—immaculate, modern, and painfully unfamiliar.

Your chest heaved, lungs burning from exertion and panic. "Why are you doing this?" Your voice cracked. "Why do you even care?"

He didn’t answer.

He just threw you to the floor and sliced the zip ties off your wrists with a pocket knife. The moment your hands were free, you lunged at him, fists swinging wildly.

He barely flinched. Within seconds, he had you pinned again, his hand tightening around your throat as he lifted you against the wall. His crimson eyes burned into yours, his grip just shy of suffocating.

"Lose this fucking attitude before I get pissed." Fury boiled inside you. You spit in his face. The instant it landed, you regretted it.

His jaw tensed. Without a word, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you toward a door.

Pain shot through your scalp, but you barely had time to react before you were being dragged down a flight of stairs—into the basement.

It was cold. Damp. The air was heavy with dust and mildew. Your stomach dropped. "Bakugo—" He shoved you against a metal support beam and began tying your wrists together with an extension cord to the beam. The plastic of the cord and cold metal beam bit into your skin. You thrashed, screamed louder—but your throat burned, raw from all the yelling.

No one came. No one was going to. With a final tug, he secured the knot, turned, and walked up the stairs.

The basement door slammed shut. Darkness swallowed you whole. For the first time since this nightmare began, you let yourself cry. Tears rolled down your cheeks, hot and bitter, as you tried to process what had just happened.

How had it come to this? You screamed again—until your throat ached too much to continue. You were thirsty. You were cold. You were alone. Eventually, exhaustion overtook your body, and you passed out.

When you woke, the basement door creaked open. Heavy footsteps echoed down the stairs.

Bakugo.

In his hands, he carried a bucket and a towel. You scrambled back as far as your restraints would allow, pressing yourself against the cold beam. He crouched down, soaking the towel in water before wringing it out. Without a word, he reached forward, pressing it against your face.

You jerked away instantly, turning your head to avoid his touch.

But he was persistent. Every time you moved, he followed. Until, finally, he grabbed your chin—forcing you to look at him. His grip wasn’t as harsh as before, but it was firm.

And for the first time since this all began, he was silent. No threats. No taunts. Just silence. Slowly, he wiped away the sweat and dirt clinging to your skin.

Then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of scissors. Your breath hitched. The cold metal grazed your arm, and for a moment, panic surged inside you. You were trembling now, eyes wide, heart hammering— But then, with a single motion, he began cutting your uniform away. Fabric fell in shreds, leaving you in just a bra and underwear. A fresh wave of humiliation crashed over you, your body shaking violently from both the cold and fear. Still, he said nothing.

He continued wiping down your arms, your stomach, your legs—his touch clinical, methodical. Your heartbeat was so loud you swore he could hear it. Then, just as quickly as it started, it was over. He pulled a clean T-shirt over your body—his, oversized and heavy with the scent of burnt caramel and musk.

Without another word, he tossed the bucket aside. "You can piss and shit in here." The bucket clattered against the floor. Then, he turned to leave.

You hesitated before finally croaking out, "What time is it?" He glanced over his shoulder. And then he walked away. The door slammed shut again. You were left in the dark. Alone.

Again.

Hours passed. The high had faded, leaving you raw. Your body ached, your hands trembled. The first waves of withdrawal crept in—irritability, nausea, a gnawing anxiety that only grew with every second that passed. God, you just wanted a cigarette.

Something. Anything. But there was nothing.

Eventually, exhaustion overtook you once more, and you drifted into an uneasy sleep. When you woke again, sunlight barely crept through a small basement window in the corner. Your mind reeled.

They’ll notice I’m not in class. Someone will report me missing. They’ll find my friend—he’ll tell them what happened. They’ll come for me. They have to.

You held onto that hope, clinging to it like a lifeline. Then, the basement door opened again. Bakugo descended the stairs, carrying a plate of food and a glass of water. He crouched in front of you, set the plate down, then picked up a spoon. He scooped up a bite and motioned it toward your mouth.

You blinked. Then, you laughed. Loud and sharp. "Get that the fuck away from me, you creep. I don’t want th—" Before you could finish your sentence, a spoonful of food was shoved into your mouth.

You gagged, immediately spitting it onto the cold basement floor in defiance. Bakugo’s jaw ticked. Without a word, he scooped up another bite and forced it into your mouth, this time clamping a hand over your lips and pinching your nose shut.

"Swallow, and you get to breathe."

You held out for as long as you could, glaring at him through watery eyes. But the dizziness crept in, black dots dancing in your vision. He wasn’t bluffing. You swallowed. Air rushed into your lungs as he finally let go. "Good."

He kept going, shoving spoonful after spoonful past your lips until the bowl was empty. Your stomach twisted painfully, not used to eating this much after months of skipping meals, but he didn’t care.

Finally, he held the glass of water toward you.

You hesitated. "Drink." This time, you did. Your throat ached from screaming, raw and burning, and the cool water was a welcome relief.

Bakugo watched you the entire time, crimson eyes never wavering. For a while, he just sat there, studying you like you were some puzzle he was trying to solve. You swallowed thickly.

"You know someone's going to realize I'm missing," you finally said, voice hoarse. "They’ll come looking for me. And when they do, say goodbye to your career."

For a moment, he didn’t react. Then, he smiled. A slow, knowing smile. "Yeah? Guess we’ll have to see, huh?" Your stomach dropped. He was too confident. Too calm. You looked away, your earlier bravado suddenly cracking.

"What?" His voice was smug. "Where’d that smart attitude go now?"

You clenched your fists, biting your lip to keep from trembling. The cold of the basement seeped into your bones, the only sound was the distant hum of life continuing without you. You weren’t sure what scared you more—the situation you were in, or the sinking realization that maybe… just maybe… no one was coming to save you.

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kindlyduhh · 5 months ago

Text

A Greedy Heart pt.1

You can also read it on my ao3 page !!

Content warnings: fem!reader, fluff, gets suggestive towards the end

Word count: 4.5K

Mammon has been thinking about confeesing to you about his feeling but just cant find the right time. After some miscommunications he finally finds the guts the say what was on his mind...

Once again, it was a typical day in the devildom and you and Mammon were spending time together in your room. He was sitting on your bed and you were laying next to him.

You loved hanging out with mammon, his presence calms you down and you were happy that mammon also tried to hang out with you even though he acts nonchalant as he tried to seem like he didn't care, but you always saw through him, how much he’d blush every time you agree to hang out, and it is truly adorable.

Normally you guys would just joke around or mammon would make a plan to steal Lucifer's credit card again, but he was unusually quiet today just scrolling on his D.D.D.

You could clearly see that mammon wanted to say something that was on his mind since he kept glancing at you, but he wasn't saying anything.

“Mammon, are you alright?” knowing that if you don't ask him directly, he definitely wouldn't talk about whatever was bothering him.

“Yea, I'm fine…” he huffs while ruffling his beautiful white hair.

The whole day, he seemed unusually distant, casting frequent glances your way with a grumpy expression. It was obvious that something was bugging him, but he was being stubborn as usual.

“Oh c'mon mammon, I know something is up… I promise I won't judge you or anything like that.” you said in a reassuring tone, his eyes softened ever so slightly.

You could see that he was struggling to express himself, as people had belittled him every time he voiced his thoughts, calling him a scumbag or a money grubber. It pained your heart to witness his struggle.

Mammon didn't understand why you were this kind. You were so gentle and caring, which was a thing he wasn't used to.

He got used to your affection so much since the day that you came to devildom that when you weren't around; he felt alone and jealous every time you hung out with the other brothers, which was a feeling he hated.

Mammon's heart pounded in his chest as he tried to find the courage to express his feelings. He had been holding them in for so long, but it was becoming harder and harder to keep them hidden.

Every time he looked at you, his heart ached with the unsaid words. He knew he had to speak up, but the fear of rejection and judgment held him back.

"Ugh, I dunno..." Mammon started to speak while fidgeting with his hands, but before he could finish, Levi suddenly burst into the room without bothering to knock on the door.

“Yo y/n, the game that we were waiting for is out! c’mon let's go, we have to play it now.” Levi says enthusiastically. You and Levi were waiting for this game for a really long time and you have promised him that you would play it together.

Mammon was filled with a mix of disappointment and anger as Levi interrupted, but he tried to keep his facial expressions neutral. "Great, just great. " He couldn't shake off the regret and frustration that he had almost let himself be vulnerable.

"Levi, can you wait just for a second? I'll be in your room in a minute, okay?" You slightly get up from the bed and glance at Mammon, noticing that he was clearly irritated that Levi entered the room just when he was about to speak.

“Oh c'mon y/n, if we don't start playing now, we might miss the free gacha pulls, and it's not like you guys are doing anything, right?” Levi explains, it's clear that he isn't gonna give up.

As Mammon slowly got up from your bed, you could sense his emotional walls building up again, his attempt to act nonchalant.

“Hey where are you going? You were gonna say something, right?” trying to convince mammon to stay, but when your eyes met with his, you could see the disappointment and regret in his eyes. You get even more confused by his actions.

“It's nothin really, ya guys can play your games or whatever… I need to go somewhere, anyway.” Mammon tries to smile as he masks away his feelings.

Your heart breaks at how cold he is being. He wasn't even looking at you anymore. You start to feel even more anxious overthinking everything you did today.

Mammon murmurs under his breath “bye then…” He quickly leaves your room, not even giving you a chance to say goodbye.

You try to act like you are fine. “Well, let's play our game right.” You sigh while smiling at Levi since you didn't want to worry him about anything. He nods and starts walking to his room while talking about how excited he was about the game as you try not to think about mammon.

⋆⋅⛧⋅⋆

It was midnight now, the dim light of the devildom brightening the room ever so slightly as you say goodnight to Levi. He was accustomed to staying up late, so you knew he'd likely keep playing the game.

You had a headache, so you held the bridge of your nose to relieve it slightly, but it didn't work. Your mind wandered about mammon the whole night and you couldn't even focus on the game anymore.

You anxiously walk through the corridor while thinking about going to mammon’s room. You weren't sure if he was awake or this was a good idea, but you were seriously worried if you said something to upset him and the worrying was eating you every minute passing by.

You finally come to his room just waiting in front of the door anxiously to have some courage to knock on the door. You could hear your heart beating in your whole body and you think to yourself why you were this nervous.

You sigh and finally knock on the door with shaky hands. As you wait in front of the door, you get even more self conscious about what you were doing. This was a mistake, and you were probably gonna wake mammon in the middle of the night for nothing.

You slightly get relieved when he doesn't open the door. Of course, he was sleeping. It was really late. As you turn away and make your way to your room, you pick up on the faint sound of a door opening.

“Y/n… what are ya doin here?” Mammon says, his voice sounds sleepy. You curse yourself under your breath for waking him up for something so stupid.

You turned to him to apologize, but froze the moment you saw him. Your eyes open wider and you can feel your face heating up.

He was only wearing gray sweatpants, leaving his toned, bare chest exposed to the dim moonlight. The sight was mesmerizing as you tried to tear your gaze away, but your eyes were glued to his sculpted form. You gulped and tried to not look at him like a creep, looking everywhere but him as you blushed harder.

And that's when he realized that he wasn't wearing any shirt. His face started to get even redder than yours somehow as he cleared his throat. “S-sorry I just woke up… I'll go put on a shirt”

Without thinking, you grab his arm to stop him. Noticing his shocked expression, you quickly release his arm, feeling awkward as you stand fidgeting with your hands.

“U-um, it's fine. I shouldn't even come here. I'm sorry for waking you. It's nothing important. You should just go to sleep,” you say awkwardly while looking down. You couldn't even look at his face because of how embarrassed you are.

Mammon feels slightly upset about the way you were hiding your face, even though it's been just a few hours since he already missed seeing your beautiful face.

His arm was still tingling from your touch. Just from that quick contact, he felt himself melting as he bit his bottom lip.

“Nah, it's fine, I'm awake now so ya might as well say it right” He scratched the back of his neck as he gestured to you to come to his room.

Mammon thought of you the entire night as he tried to sleep. He was so jealous of Levi since he got to spend some time with you.

His stomach twisted the entire night, his imagination consumed by the sight of you and Levi sitting next to each other closely. It should be him next to you, not Levi or any of his brothers. He was your first demon, not them.

And to his luck, he heard you knocking on the door. When he saw your face, the relief he felt made him feel like he can finally breathe again.

He slowly walked to his couch and grabbed the shirt laying down there. He quickly put on the shirt, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable.

While wearing his shirt, he caught you glancing at his abs. He wasn't sure if you were checking him out, but the thought of it made his heart beat faster.

You both plump onto the couch. There is an awkward energy in the air. You both stay quiet for a bit, then you awkwardly clear your throat.

“Did I said something that upset you?” you blurt out suddenly while looking down at the floor.

Mammon looks confused, not understanding why you would ask that. You never said something that upset him, hell it was the opposite all the time.

Mammon felt a pang of unease when you refused to meet his gaze. He yearned for your attention, craving the way your eyes would light up as you looked at him. "Hey, why are ya asking that? Of course ya didn't," he reiterated, trying to catch your gaze.

"What made ya think that, anyway?" His heart ached as he longed for the connection he had with you, the way you always gave him your undivided attention and made his stomach do flips.

You ran your hand through your hair out of frustration, realizing you sounded a bit foolish. "Umm... I'm not sure," you began, trying to find the right words. "You just seemed off today, and you stormed off when Levi came to my room. I was worried I did something wrong."

Your voice trailed off as you exhaled, feeling a bit embarrassed by how insignificant your worries seemed now that you said them out loud.

Mammon's heart sank when he realized that he had made you worried. He curses himself for being such an idiot. There you were worrying for him and all it was because he was foolishly scared of your reaction.

“Oi c’mon will ya look at me.” he huffs. There is a tint of worry in his voice as he speaks. The only thing he wants is for you to understand you didn't do anything wrong.

As you finally met his gaze, something in the air shifted. You noticed a glimmer of vulnerability in his golden eyes that made your heart skip a beat. His usual cockiness was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a rare moment of sincerity.

“Ya didn't do anything wrong, ya dummy. Ya don't need to worry about me.” He reached out his hand to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

Your breath hitched as Mammon's hand made gentle contact with your hair, grazing your skin softly. The brief touch sent a jolt through your body, making you dizzy with a newfound craving for more.

His touch felt incredibly soft and tender, and you found yourself subconsciously leaning into it, silently wanting more of the sensation. As he spoke, his words seemed to get lost in your mind, overpowered by the overwhelming feeling of butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Your voice quivered as you spoke, expressing your concern for Mammon. "But I do worry about you," you said, your words laced with a hint of desperation.

"If you talk to me, maybe I can help you somehow. Did Lucifer lecture you again, or is it those witches bothering you?" You hoped that he would finally open up and let you in, to allow you to at least try to comfort him‌.

Mammon felt a pang of guilt as he heard the desperation in your voice. He didn’t mean to make you worry, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit the real reason behind his sour mood.

“Aw, ya worry too much about me, ya know that?” he tried to deflect, flashing a cocky smile. “I’m a tough demon, ya know? Nothin’ can get me down.”

This is typical Mammon behavior of trying to hide his feelings and act nonchalant, even though he’s actually touched by your worry about him.

Your frustration was evident as you let out a sigh, not swayed by Mammon's attempts to dismiss your concern. Surprisingly, a newfound boldness washed over you, and you reached out, gently grasping his hand in a reassuring grip. You held it firmly, trying to convey your care through your touch.

"Mammon, it's okay to admit when you're feeling down or upset. You don't always have to put on a tough act, especially not with me. I care about you, and I want to understand what's been bothering you."

Mammon's eyes widened slightly, clearly surprised by your honesty. He hadn't expected you to be so direct about it. He hesitated for a moment, not used to talking about his feelings or problems, but the genuine concern in your voice made him feel like he couldn't keep you in the dark anymore.

He let out a deep sigh, his shoulders drooping slightly. "It's not Lucifer or the witches," he muttered, looking away from you. "I actually…" He paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

Mammon takes a deep breath, preparing himself to reveal what's been on his mind. "There's something I've been wanting to talk to ya about," he begins, his tone a bit hesitant.

Your heart skips a beat, anticipation swelling within you. Whatever it is Mammon wanted to talk about, it seems serious. You brace yourself, ready to listen intently.

He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, clearly nervous about what he was about to say.

"But I'm not good with this kind of stuff, ya know? Talking about feelings and whatnot." He chuckled weakly.

As you gently squeezed his hand, Mammon felt a shiver run down his spine. The feeling of your soft touch on his skin was like electricity coursing through his body, filling him with an inexplicable sense of comfort and excitement.

It was as if your touch alone had the power to calm his nerves and give him the courage to finally say what was on his mind. With a deep breath, he gathered his thoughts and found the courage to speak.

Mammon took a deep breath, his heart still racing as he looked at you with a mixture of vulnerability and determination.

“I…” he began, but the words got stuck in his throat. He let out a shaky exhale and tried again. “Promise me ya won’t laugh, okay?”

You ran your thumb over his knuckles gently, trying to reassure him that it was okay to open up to you. “I swear on my life I won't laugh Mammon” trying to show how serious you were about his feelings.

He looks at you intently, his expression a mix of emotions."You know how I’m always calling you my human, right?" he starts, his voice a bit shaky.

He looks away for a moment, his eyes darting around the room before finally meeting yours again."And how I always want to be around you and want your attention?" he continues, fidgeting with his shirt hem again.

Oh. OH. Your heart skipped a beat as Mammon mentioned how he always wants to be around you and wants your attention. A wave of realization washed over you, and you started to piece together what he was trying to say.

Your mind races as you process his words, feeling a mix of emotions. Part of you is surprised by Mammon's vulnerability, as he's usually so guarded and closed off. Another part of you is thrilled, the idea that Mammon might be confessing his feelings to you, stirring up a whirlwind of excitement and nervousness.

Mammon takes a deep breath and looks directly into your eyes, his expression a mixture of nervousness and determination.

"I've been trying to figure out how to say this, but I'll just say it straight out." He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts and mustering his courage.

"I... I like ya, okay? Like a lot. And not in the ‘friend’ way, but in the ‘I can’t stop thinkin’ about ya, miss ya when yer not around, wanna spend all my time with ya’ kinda way."

Mammon's stomach twists as he confesses. He can't believe he actually said it. The intrusive thoughts start spinning in his mind as he feels his heart beat getting faster. What if you didn't like him? If so, would this ruin the relationship you had with him?

He feels dizzy as he waits for your response while still feeling like he made a mistake by opening up to you. What if he lost you because of his confession? Why couldn't he be content with just your friendship? Why did he have to be so greedy?

As these thoughts pass around his mind, you gently put your hand on his cheek. There is a tint of redness on your face. He can barely see it under the dim moonlight. “You like me… you mean it?” your voice trembling slightly. You felt your heart beat getting faster at his words.

You never thought that Mammon would confess one day. Of course, you both acted flirty from time to time, but whenever it felt too serious or real, he find a way to get away from the situation, acting like he had no feelings towards you.

Mammon's voice trembles, “I umm… I-I do mean it alright…”. His face is fully red now as he tries to not meet your gaze. He huffs while scratching the back of his neck, clearly frustrated about being this vulnerable.

“I-Its ‘kay if ya don't feel the same ı just… gahh i dunno I thought I should tell ya or somethin’ I know I'm being an idiot now so it's fine if ya wanna leave or whatever…” He mumbles under his breath, glancing at you just for a second. The way he looks at you with a glint of desperation, like you are gonna leave him for being vulnerable.

You put both of your hands on Mammon’s cheeks, forcing him to look into your eyes. His eyes widen as you get slightly closer to his face. “Mammon, you're not being an idiot… and ı would never leave you, okay…” you whisper while caressing his cheek gently.

He closes his eyes as he feels your touch. It's so soft and tender and he feels dizzy from the sensation. Without realizing, he nuzzles to your hand as he sighs.

He looks so beautiful between your hands, his eyes closed. He looks like a painting as his white hair slightly glows under the dim moonlight. And you finally find the courage to say what is in your heart.

“I-I like you too Mammon… like a lot. Every time I look at you, my heart starts to beat faster like it's gonna burst out of my chest,” you whisper, your voice trembling as you speak.

Mammon quickly opens his eyes when he hears your word. Did you say you liked him? No way you said that right. Did you say it back because you didn't want to upset him?

“Ya do? are ya sure bout it… ya don't have to say it back just because you don't want to upset me or whatever yer thinking, ‘key.” He mumbles under his breath. Barely meeting your gaze.

You tilt his head to face you gently, wanting to convince him about your feelings. “Of course I'm sure mams… ı wouldn't lie about my feelings, especially to you. I like you so much that I want to be next to you all the time… ı love your smile, ı love talking to you, I love that when you get excited about something you get even louder,” you chuckle "and I love you Mammon…”

His brain stops for a second. The way you talk about him is so sweet as he melts at your every word. He is not used to this type of tenderness and he might get addicted to it if you keep going like this.

As Mammon's brain processes the words you just spoke, his heart fills with a mixture of shock and happiness.

It's like the weight of the world has been lifted off his shoulders after expressing his feelings for you, and now, hearing you say you feel the same... he can't contain his emotions any longer.

He gazes intently into your eyes, his breathing shaky as he leans closer to you.

"Can I...?" he whispers, his gaze flickering down to your lips

You nod as your voice shivers “yeah…” your heart is beating faster and faster while he places his hands on your cheek and finally closes that little gap between you two.

As his lips gently met yours, a rush of sensations washed over you. It was a sweet and tender kiss, full of longing and desire. Mammon's hand trembled gently against your cheek as he deepened the kiss, pulling you closer with his other hand.

He couldn't believe this was happening. He felt even more dizzy as your hands wandered around his body. Your soft hand gliding against his hair made him feel euphoric as you deepened the kiss.

You were kissing him with a hunger even you didn't know existed. The way you were kissing him with such a fervor was driving mammon crazy as he was getting more worked up every second.

His hand went to your soft hair, tangling between his fingers as he kept kissing you. The sound you made when he tugged on your hair made his whole body shiver. Your sweet sound felt like music to his ears, and he was getting more greedy for you.

You felt yourself heating up with every touch, losing every sense, only wanting to feel him more. You gently pushed him back onto the couch without breaking the kiss. With a swift move, you swing your leg over his legs, straddling his lap, and pinning him down on the couch.

Mammon's eyes widened in surprise as you straddled him on the couch, pushing him back against the cushions. He looked up at you in a mixture of shock and excitement, his grip on your waist tightening as he tried to keep his composure.

He was blushing hard by your sudden bolt move as he held you by your waist carefully, not wanting for you to accidentally fall down.

His heart was racing, and he could feel your heat pressed against him. It was driving him crazy, and he couldn't help but let out a low moan as you positioned yourself on top of him.

His grip on your waist tightened slightly as he looked up at you, his expression a mix of surprise and desire. "Wh-what are ya doin?" he managed to stutter out, his voice shaky.

His breathless voice makes you come to your senses, and you realize what you are doing. “Uhh… s-sorry I can get up if you want…” you say breathlessly as you hold on to him by his shoulders.

Mammon's heart skips a beat at your sudden concern. Despite his surprise, he can't deny that he loves the feeling of you on top of him. He shakes his head gently, his hand still firmly holding your hip.

Mammon shakes his head, his grip on your waist not loosening. "No, no...it's okay," he says, his voice still shaky. He swallows, his adam's apple bobbing as he gazes up at you. "I... I don't want you to get up," he adds, a hint of pleading in his voice.

He swallows hard, his gaze still fixed on you. There is a hint of vulnerability in his eyes as he looks up at you, silently hoping that you won't leave.

He can feel the heat radiating from your body, the way your chest is rising and falling against his as you try to catch your breath. He glances down at your legs, straddling him, and a pang of desire shoots through his body.

His hands slid from your waist, down to your hips, and he gently pulled you closer to him.

“Ya look beautiful like this…” he whispered as his thumbs started to draw circles on your hips.

You whimpered softly as his hand traced down to your thighs. The voice you made snapped something in him and he started to kiss you roughly, like you were the last thing he was gonna taste.

You started to grind your hips on him to get some type of friction. The sensation made him realize how much he needed to feel you. He holds you by your hips tightly as he tries to feel you more.

You started to kiss his jaw and slowly go down to his neck as you kept moving your hips. You could feel his hardness fully now and you could feel yourself getting wetter every second passing by.

You start to nibble on his neck, leaving a tiny mark there and your hand moves to the hem of his shirt. You looked at him with your eyes full of lust as you asked “can i… take it off…” you gulped as you tried to catch your breath.

You wanting to take his shirt off made him feel like he was in the clouds. He quickly takes his shirt off with a one swift move, leaving his chest bare.

The way you were looking at him with hunger in your eyes, biting your lips as you checked him out with no shame… It was too much. He was gonna lose control if you kept this up.

“y/n i… are ya sure bout this… it's fine if you don't wanna keep goin’ alright” he said wanting to reassure you it was okay if you wanted to stop before it was too late.

You loved how sweet and caring he truly was. Making sure you were comfortable before doing anything else. You gently caressed his cheek. "I'm sure mams… i don't wanna stop… but it's fine if you want to…” you say.

Mammon felt a wave of relief wash over him as you reassured him that you wanted to continue. His heart was racing as he looked up at you, his eyes full of desire.

He gazes up at you for a moment, his eyes locking with yours, and he lets out a shaky sigh. "No… I don't wanna stop… I don't think I could even if I tried…" he says with a hint of desperation in his voice.

He caressed your hips, his hands grasping with a possessiveness that betrayed his growing desperation. “Just… tell me if ya want me to stop... a’right.”

You smiled gently as you caressed his cheek “I don't want to stop mammon… i dont think i can hold on much longer…”

Divider by:@cafekitsune

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