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''𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐲 '𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥'.''
Somehow, you got muzan to agree to your shenanigans, so here you are. Muzan had plumb red lipstick on, eyeliner, foundation, and a little pig tail on the top of his head. He dreadfully regrets agreeing.
''I am not doing that-''
''Please.''
He gave you a deadpanned look and sighed. He then stood up and posed while flicking his wrist.
''Material girl.''
You immediately took a picture with a random camera you magically pulled out of your ass while wheezing.
You slapped your knee, then literally deflated onto the floor. This was fucking gold.
Muzan starred at you with so many emotions.
Worry, fear, more worry and disgust.
He sighed and helped you up from you laughing fit. You froze. Ah shit. It was time for your part of the deal.
You both sat in front of each other in complete silence, on the inside you were screaming your lungs out in spanish at him. And muzan, he was just worried how this would turn out, he didn't want you to go through the he had to through transformation.
An idea suddenly popped into his head as he the swiftly lifted his hand and brought it down upon you neck.
You felt your consciousness slowly slip away as the only word you could let out was;
''Mario fucker...''
· · • • • ✤ • • • · ·
Your eyes snapped open as you starred at your surroundings. What in mickey mouse club house dignity happened?
You forced your upper body up and winced at the sudden pain in your neck, you hovered a hand over the bruise.
You gasped quietly and grew enraged.
'THAT CHIPOTLE DISEASED MICHEAL JACKSON BACK STABBED ME.'
You scanned the room for the ravenette, only to see him passed out at the end or your bed.
You wanted so bad to kick him, but you couldn't because he literally still had the god forsaken make-up on.
