#Sassy Reader

[uniquethingtastemaker]

This is from Vil x Reader -- Overblot Slap:

“Please, don’t look at me… Stop looking at me like that!” Vil screams, cowering away from you. “Why? I wanted to become the most beautiful in the world, but why am I so–so ugly! I’m so ugly!” 

The dorm leader clutches his hair, hyperventilating. Poisonous gas seeps into the hallway.

“Roi de Poison, you’re not ugly,” Rook refutes.

You give him an incredulous expression. Vil looks pretty ugly to you. He hasn’t looked good since you became an unwilling participant in the reality TV show that’s his life. He has such an obsessive and self-important attitude. It pisses you off. 

“Yeah! Neige and Rook didn’t drink the juice!” Kalim agrees. 

You gape at Kalim with wide eyes. Is he excusing Vil’s actions? That man attempted murder! He might not have done irreversible physical damage, but you have psychological trauma. It’s been accumulating since day one. You can’t do this anymore. You have to hit him before he overblots. As a magicless student, you’re pushed to the sidelines during overblot fights. However, you have a personal grudge against Vil. You’ve put up with his pretentious behavior in your house for a month. You’re going to express your feelings with your fists.

“Please, Vil, come to your–”

You stomp up to Vil and slap him. The sound reverberates off the walls. He stares at you. His eyes are wide, and he has a searing red handprint on his face. One of his gloved hands brushes over it in disbelief. You put your hands on your hips.

“Yeah, you’re ugly,” you confirm. “You’ve been acting ugly for a while now. You almost murdered Neige because of your stupid ego and inferiority complex. Not everything is about you. You don’t get to decide you’ve lost the competition before you’ve even performed. You have a whole team behind you. You’re not being a good leader.” 

There’s a period of silence. The dorm leader stares at you. After a moment, you slap him again. 

“Your face pisses me off,” you explain, “Get your act together and stop whining. You have other things to do, like apologizing.”

(this is the first page of the Overblot Slap fanfic. u're welcome and i'm sorry. u're going to be so mad at me. this isn't going to come out in a while. i'm mostly working on Rook x Observant Reader. Then, the Dreaming of You series... however... I will say that once I get Riddle and Azul's finished, I might work on this more)

[cluelessatthispoint]

A Dragon's Hoard pt.1

(Mythical AU of the 141)

(This fic is inspired by bluegiragi and docdudo.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You've never been one for the warmth that most people eminate. The kindness that sparkles in someone's eyes when they see someone they know and love. The way a person's tone changes to show their interest in a conversation, or how families get close and share hugs amongst one another. It's sweet, you think. Sweet but pointless. Smiles can be faked, tones can be raised and lowered on a whim. Scrunchingbupbyour nose in disdain as you spy another group of travelers walking along the beaten path. The sounds of their laughter and idle chatter already fading as the sounds of gravel underfoot growing fainter.

A pang of envy settles between your ribcage. The feeling of it twisting and festering almost burns. Never once had you ever experienced that. Never a tender smile or a kind word was ever directed at you. Thinking back as far as you can, there was always one constant: being alone. Ever since the great fire raged six summers ago, you've been displaced. Wandering and begging for scraps of food or even taking refuge within the churches when the bitter cold sweeps across the land. It is a harsh life for a child your age. Eleven years old and orphaned. Truly, if the orphanages weren't so full and if the staff cared, you figured you'd be stuck there. But seeing as they were full to bursting and low on income, you were throw. To the curb and barely spared a glance by any passersby.

Which brings you to the present. Living in the woods as best you can, your lean-to near the city's walls, but far enough to be undisturbed by mercenaries and gangs. The farther out away from the city the more people fear to tread. The tales of the great dragon who prowls the far edge of the woods have been told by young and old alike. Each story growing more fierce and bloody with each retelling. But so long as you're living without being pestered by people it's fine by you. Scowling as the bright sun shines brightly overhead, you practically have to squint to make out the shapes of birds flying overhead or in the trees. Sling shot in hand and a pain in your empty stomach spurs you on to find a meal. There are plenty of edible roots this time of year, with a few already back safely tucked into the confines of a nook in your lean-to. The only piece left to a decent meal would be some protein. With the birds twittering and chirping overhead. The sounds of mother birds feeding their squalling chicks is grating to your ears. Already irritated beyond compare from hunger pangs and envy. You screech out an angered shout as you set off your loaded slingshot amongst the trees. A sick hope of the rock somehow hitting a bird makes you smile bitterly. But the only thing you can hear is a gruff chortle followed by a accented baritone voice.

"Well now, what have we got here so far in my end of the woods?"

Your eyes widen as you can see a figure come stumbling out of the foliage. His tone possessive as he mentions the woods being his. A large hand on his head rubbing the sore spot of where the rock made impact. An apology rises to your warbling vocal chords only to be cut off as you see the large, curling horns protruding from his head. Smoke billowing from his mouth in a steady stream as he lets out an amused chuckle at your speechless state. Stretching his arms overhead in a mocking show of strength. You can see one large green wing furled in close to his back.

"Well?"

His deep voice sends a wave of fear through your bones. He could easily snap your neck with a flap of his wing, or crush you with his bare hands if he wanted to. Gazing wide eyed in fear...you can only think of how the stories that were told were true. Looking up at the hulking figure, you can see why the stories were never the same. This dragon...this man...this creature is somehow both. A hybrid of sorts.

Not bothering to stay around and chat. You bolt as if the devil himself were after you. Your tiny legs running as fast as you can. With the way your autonomic nervous system is kicking in. Your legs feel both like jelly and pins and needles from all the adrenaline. Panting heavily as you run the feeling of copper rises to your tongue as your lungs strain for air. Running was never your strongest attribute. The hybrid could tell that as well as even over the beating of your heart in your ears you can hear him running not to far behind you. His strides much longer than yours, a grin on his face as you can hear a giddy sort of chuckle rumblebfrom his chest.

"What's a hatchling like you doing all the way out here sweet thing?"

A pair of strong arms wrap securely around you as you flail and kick wildly. The scent of smoke and sweat fills your nose as you scratch at the arms holding you in place. The rumbling timbre of his voice sends vibrations through your body as he holds you securely against his chest.

"Been watching you for a while hatchling, all alone in these woods. Should have been eaten a long time ago."

As if those words weren't frightening enough, deep down in the pit of your belly you know them to be blaringly true. The amount of times you've stayed up in the night fending off wild animals were more than enough to prove his point. Tensing in the Hybrids strong arms, he adjusts his hold as if holding a squirming newborn fawn. His hot breath ghosting over the top of your head and neck. As if sensing your blinding fear, the hybrid chuckles, a rumbling purr rising from the chest behind you.

"Hush now...Papa's here, lil treasure. Papa's here."

Stilling immediately out of fear at the hybrid’s words. Whether condescending or not, you can't help but relax slightly. The fight leaving your tired body as soon as the adrenaline runs out. Your heart pitter pattering in your chest almost painfully. Sucking in greedy lung fulls of air, you can't help but relax begrudgingly against the warmth that the massive body behind you eminates. You're stuck here now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We all know who the dragon is :) it's everyone's favorite tired dad Price!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Poly!plastics x sassy!reader

A usually quiet reader now sassy towards everyone but their girlfriends and the plastics are loving it

"Prince Charming"

|| poly!plastics x sassy!nonbinary!reader

|| Warnings; short drabble, brief swearing, guy tries to flirt with the plastics, brief almost misgendering moment, reader insulting the guy

|| Summary; when a guy tries to flirt with the plastics, reader takes control of the situation.

Requests open!

Started; November 6th

Finished; November 6th

~~~

This was not the you the plastics had come to know. Usually, you were quite quiet. They weren't sure what had gotten into you recently and honestly? It was hot. You'd gone from quiet to sassy and witty in just a few short days. Gretchen was sure it was because they were rubbing off on you. Regina didn't care for the reason, she was just taking it all in. Finding it rather amusing. While Karen didn't really know what was going on, other than you were talking a whole lot more than you used to.

Lunch today started off calm. You were sitting next to Regina like you usually did, Gretchen and Karen across from you. Holding hands and giggling about something you weren't sure of. That's when some idiot decided to be brave today. He walked right over to the table, buddies laughing and nudging each other in the background. His eyes roamed the four of you as he grinned. Trying to seem more charming than he really was.

"Hey, ladies~ and uh, Y/N." He added the last bit awkwardly, seeming to remember from Regina's glare that you were nonbinary. You held back a laugh and have Regina a thankful smile.

"Whatever it is, go away. We're busy." Regina gestured to the four of them with both hands. They weren't all that busy, really it was just simple conversations. With no topics being particularly important. Regina was clearly just trying to get him to leave them alone.

"Oh come on, don't got room for one more?" He asked, trying to sit down next to you. Regina's sharp glare and possessive grip around your waist made him think twice.

"Oh absolutely not." You made a fake gagging sound, earning a laugh from Gretchen and Regina. Karen looked a little concerned, having thought it was real.

"Baby, you okay?" Karen asked, you glanced at her and gave her a subtle nod. She seemed to relax a bit after that.

You looked back at the guy and stood, giving him a once over as you folded your arms across your chest. "Your clothes are tacky, your hair style is- just, wow really? Hope you didn't pay for that. And the fake "prince charming" trick? Also, why do all men feel the need to lower their voices?" You looked back at your girls, Gretchen and Karen both looked stunned as you just clocked this guy. With no hesitation or stutter. Regina meanwhile, was laughing her ass off. Oh she wished she recorded that. Wherever you seem to have gotten your newly found sass from... she was not complaining.

The guy was at a total lost for words. Mouth opening and then closing again serval times, trying to come up with at least some comeback.

"Ugh, close your mouth. I can smell your breath from here." You scoffed, settling yourself back down next to Regina. Regina grinned as you sat with her, her arm going back around your waist and pulling you impossibly close. She kissed the crook of your neck softly. Gently nibbling on the spot as she hummed.

As for him, he stood there for a moment. Before walking back to his table, head down and tail between his legs. Even his buddies looked a little stunned by everything they just overheard you say. Cause damn.

"That was so hot." Regina murmured against your skin, the feeling of her breath sending shivers down your spine. Gretchen nodded in agreement.

"Literally like so cool!" Gretchen replied, you smiled at them. Finding yourself relax under Regina's touches.

"I'll keep that in mind." You were almost hoping there would be another moment like that. You just wanted to show off to your girls now.

[isabeauwolf]

Law x Plus Size Nurse reader 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 1: Dr Grumpy's got a crush

You were beyond tired.

Working as one of the nurses for the newest, high tech, fancy and affordable famous hospitals in The Grandline was a dream come true for some.

You?

Sure, it paid well. Fantastic. You worked and studied your ass off to get through nursing school. Somehow everywhere wasn't taking in new fresh, faced newbies. It made you lose hope. Tempted to go back to your old jobs by working as a librarian's assistant and busting tables on your days off.

After the last straw you decided to turn in an application for "Heart" General Hospital after making a bet with Nami that you wouldn't get in. Why?

The Head Director and Doctor Trafalgar Law is known to be an extremely professional and hardworking, overachieving and rude... highly attractive asshole.

The Surgeon of Death, Dr Heart Stealer was a Miracle Worker in his field, becoming one of the youngest and wealthiest, most sought after doctors on this side of Grandline. Knowing he came from The North Blue with his fellow coworkers and childhood friends, Penguin, Shachi and Bepo was cute.

Oh, you had seen him on the covers of magazines, one of the hottest and most eligible, rich and sexy bachelors on the marriage market.

Of course, you were a fan. Okay, a fangirl. Maybe, he was your teenage crush... Obsession... Still is. But that's beside the point!

Two years and you still couldn't believe you got in! Trafalgar Law had been away to conduct your interview, so the task had been handled by his Chief of Staff Bepo, the polar bear mink. Without a second hesitation you asked him for a hug which he gladly returned!

You had heard the rumors. He didn't play around when it came to his job, people's lives and was a hard ass to everyone. You do mean everyone.

And yet... Somehow. You could have sworn Dr Heart Stealer was extremely and unfairly targeting you. That he hated you since day one. You couldn't figure out why?

Oh, you would be nice and civil. But you weren't going to roll over and cower in the corner, hell no. So you would challenge him, bite back, your own childish, stubborn and bratty spiteful nature showing its ugly head whenever you were the most tired.

Seriously? What the hell did you do to earn the ire of Dr Grumpy, insomniac?

Doc's going to give himself an early heart attack or aneurysm one of these days you can see it. And frown lines and wrinkles. You wouldn't be surprised, if the twenty-six-year-old already had a few grey or white hairs secretly hidden underneath his unruly, inky black tresses.

Who will save our grumpy heart surgeon when he himself needs a Doctor? You thought to yourself as you got off the elevator. You phone buzzed, sneaking a glance as you unlocked your screen and opened a group chat message that consisted of you, Penguin, Shachi and Bepo.

Watch out, Y/n! Caps looking for you better make a run for it!

Uh oh, better, hurry. Seeing that message made you speed walk towards the exit.

You had already used the hospital showers and dressed in your casual pajamas, which consisted of a tank top, basketball shorts and a zip up hoodie. You were heading through the lobby and was closer out the door and to your bed when you heard Dr. Killjoy calling your name.

Damn, almost made it to freedom. You pause, halfway turning. Your hand tightening on the strap of your small black duffle bag with white spots, the hospital logo on it and your name embroidered. It was a company gift during Christmas for every one of the hospital staff and workers to receive a commemorative gift at the end of the new year. During your first year it was a soft yellow and black blanket with hearts all over it and last year was your duffle bag.

Law walks towards you, his brows knit tight as he scowls.

Well shit. That wasn't a good sign first thing in the morning.

Who the hell put sour candy in his coffee this morning? You thought to yourself, knowing he hated sour things when you offered him a blackberry war head once while on break, which he refused watching as you opened the wrapper and shoved it into your mouth without making a sour face. You swear he looked at you as if you were an alien. You just smiled and laughed, stuck out your tongue, showing him, the candy then putting the muscle back into your mouth, shoving it into your chubby cheek. "The trick is to suck on it to dissolve the coating faster."

He nodded his head and continued drinking his coffee.

Back to the present.

You're unsure why he's upset. Maybe it was because you were tired, or your sympathetic nature feeding off of Law like a giant emotional battery. It made your own temper and annoyance flare. You just wanted to go home, enjoy your day off, relax before coming back in tomorrow. Inwardly groaning you peaked outside the giant glance windows and into the parking lot, directly in the direction of your parked car. Please let this be quick.

With the scowling, towering, coffee addict doctor being so close, it's hard not to notice what he's wearing today. A dark navy sweater with the company logo directly over his crossed arms, black feathered collar, his spotted print faded washed denim jeans, black boots and hatless.

Such a shame to cover all of the tattoos that littered his body and hiding his lean yet hint of muscled physique. It's clear that he takes pride in his body. However, as nice as it looked. If you had to pick your favorite feature on Trafalgar Law? It would have to be his eyes. The most intense and icy, spine-chilling stormy silvers you'd ever seen.

"Hey." You answer, trying to act casual. "Need something?"

He stands in front of you. Well, damn. Penguin and Shachi were right. The Captain, Trafalgar Law is pissed off. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to go home, take a nap and relax." You answer. "It's my day off today. Don't you remember, Captain?"

Captain was everyone nickname for Trafalgar Law, given he ran the hospital as if he literally was "The Captain" of a sea fearing vessel, a ship, no, better yet, a yellow submarine! Nah.

His scowl lowers into a frown.

What? You don't get it? Just what the hell did you do this time? You helped one of the interns who got lost trying to find the laundry room yesterday. To be fair, this hospital was massive! You took all of the dirty dishes down to the kitchen on your designated floor last night and took care of a new mother who's just given birth two hours ago. Seriously, what more does he want? You'd wish he'd tell you!

"Bepo is sick." Law explains, pinching the bridge of his nose with his middle and index finger. "Penguin and Shachi are already busy." He opens his eyes; flashes of anger and annoyance cross his face as he keeps his voice low. "In an hour we have a trio of brotherly burn victims on the way this morning and I need your assistance in the operating room."

You wanted to tell him it wasn't your problem. Sure, you've helped Bepo, Penguin and Shaci in the operating room before, but never Law. Never The Surgeon of Death and your Captain. But instead, you kept your mouth shut and in a firm line. You didn't want to already push anymore of his buttons and anger him further. "Okay." You say, trying to keep your tone even. "What about Ikkaku? Or-"

He cut you off. "No, L/n." He bites and continues. "There is no one else available right now. Only you."

"Someone is always on call." You fire back, anger rising. "Besides I'm not dressed for it."

His jaw clenches. "You do know our protocol and motto, don't you?"

If you are free and able to help, then you have to pull your weight until the task is done.

The Heart company motto?

Every patience who comes in is a top priority.

"You know what? Fine." You huff, throwing you small duffle bag onto the chair beside you. "Since you insist that I need to get ready now and last minute." You puff out your chest, hand on your hip as your turn and face your boss. "I'll get ready right here."

"You wouldn't dare." Law's lips twitched into a smug smirk, trying to call your bluff.

"Oh? I won't, doc?" Retaining eye contract with Law's amused liquid metal orbs, you proceed to quickly unzipping your jacket, yanking it off along with your blue tank top. "I'm get ready now."

You are standing in the middle of the lobby, fellow doctors, nurses and hospital staff, patience is watching the exchange between you two, but you don't care. You don't care that everyone is getting an eyeful of you half nude form, all your extra pounds, rolls, love handles, tiger stripes, thick thighs and hint of cleavage or your wide hips and ass.

You weren't ashamed of you body.

You owned it with pride. Besides, if a man didn't appreciate all of your curves and flaws then he wasn't worth your time.

Was it petty and crossing many social, illogical regulations and rule breaking behavior? Absolutely. You wouldn't be surprised, if you were giving a slap on the wrist or called into Law's office later for such an unabashed display as undressing in front of your boss but also for the whole hospital to see.

Frankly you were too tired and pissed off to care.

Then again. Watching Law's smug and cocky assed smirk vanish as his eyes widens, and his cheeks grow inflamed. You kept going, yanking off your basketball shorts, leaving you in your bra and underwear, throwing the clothes into your duffle and bending down Infront of him as you proceeded to put your scrubs back on.

Kicking off your flip flips and switching them out for your socks and tennis shoes before quickly retying your hair into a messy bun with a scrunchy you had kept on your wrist. "There. I'm dressed and ready for servitude." You gave a mocking salute. "Are you happy now, Captain?" Zipping your bag and marching while hissing as you pass him. "You owe me overtime, coffee and breakfast for this, Doc."

Law watches you go. He's too stunned to speak. His cheeks and tips of his ears are red. He simply had no words; he was completely tongue tied and flat out shocked.

Penguin, Shachi and Bepo saw the whole things. All three were covering their mouths for different reasons. Bepo out of worry and embarrassment, Penguin and Shachi were holding onto each other while trying not to blow their cover, each shoving a hand over their mouth as their shoulders shook and quaked.

"Damn, she got him good." Penguin whispered through clenched teeth.

"I think that's the first time a girl stood up to him and made him shut up." Shachi muttered, biting his bottom lip.

"Why didn't Captain say it nicer?" Bepo said, his voice muffled by his paws.

The other two glanced at the Polar Bear Mink as if he'd grown a second hand.

"Did you forget who our boss is?"

"Yeah, Captain snow leopard tsundere doc would rather eat bread than confess his jealousy and feeling for-"

Shachi and Bepo backed away, thier eyes widened.

"What?" Penguin stopped talking, then he felt a cold, icy chill crawling down his spine. "Shit, it's Cap, isn't it?"

The man and mink nodded.

Penguin turns, coming face to face with the most seething, venomous, heated glare they had ever been on their boss whenever StrawHat Luffy tries to shove bread into his face. Or anyone who really pissed The Surgeon of Death off!

"What was that, Pen?" Law's voice was low, heated and filled with deadly, sharp edges. "I'd rather do what?"

Penguin gulped. "Nothing."

"Good." Law grit out. "Get back to work." His gaze shifted to the other two. "Bepo, take this and go home." Law shoved his hands into his lab coat pocket and shoved the prescription into his chest. "Doctors orders. Stay home for two days and call me if your condition worsens."

All three scramble, shouting, "Ai, ai, Captain!"

Law sighed, scrubbing his face as he glances around the lobby. "Shows over."

Everyone shifts there gazes away, going about their business or getting back to work.

The grumpy doctor trudges his way back into his office, slamming the door shut. He leaned against the door, his grip on the door handles tight, white knuckled. Law's whole body felt flushes as his heartbeat thudded hard in his ears, the organ slamming against his ribcage and he leaned his head back and covered his eyes with his free hand. "Damned, stubborn, bull-headed woman." He muttered to himself.

How the hell was he going to think straight if all he could see behind when he closed his eyes was your half naked body? Not to mention the new annoying problem tightening in his pants. Law uncovered his eyes, clicking his tongue and glaring down his crotch. "Traitor." He adjusted himself, awkwardly, stiffly walking towards his work desk and sat down in his big, leather office chair. Trying to think about any turn off to solve this problem quickly.

------ End of Chapter 1 ----

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Want more Law x reader? I've got you!

Merman Law x reader Law x Pregnant reader

Okay, this whole enemies to loves was a complete impulse on my part but come on. I have to feed my fellow plus size ladies! ;)

Yes, I adore Law. I'd tease him all day long, but if he's going to be snippy with me then I'm bite back.

Sooo should I continue?

I haven't forgotten about my Law x Pregnant Reader, or Merman Law fangirls!

Tag list: @m0sigma7 @angelblueflame @pandora-writes-one-piece @short-honey-badger @supreme-burrito @fanaticsnail @turtletaubwrites @cherry-queens-blog @fairymama624 @mrstraffy @kira-scarllet @strawheart-pirate @azuragalaxya @kira-scarllet @the-ginger-draws @cericebelle @emlikesfl0w3rs @aceismyloveforever @mrstrafalgardwater24 @imsnk-ow @thekatisspooky @lunulatalux @physics-of-one-piece @honeyshiddendesire @pinkbun1

[pottermagiczz]

Harry, smiling: So, when are you going to go out with me?

Y/n, smirking: I don't know, when are you going to ask me?

Harry: Uh...

*LATER*

Ron: SO YOU JUST RAN OFF!?

Harry: I DIDN'T EXPECT HER TO FLIRT BACK!!

[noobiestnoober]

How about some more Resident Evil shenanigans lol

You know that one video of interviewing animals with a tiny mic?

https://youtu.be/YOsVpoe5tzY?feature=shared

Imagine that but with Reader going around Raccoon City, interviewing random B.O.W.s with a tiny mic for fun

Ranging from Lickers, random zombies, Tyrants like Mr. X and Nemesis, G-Virus!William(any form), etc.

- @scratchingcatfics658

Wesker's Assistant Chronicles - OPERATION: INTERVIEW WITH A BIO-WEAPON (PART 4)

🎤 OPERATION: INTERVIEW WITH A BIO-WEAPON

“Wesker’s Assistant gets deployed with H.U.N.K. to interview Lickers, Tyrants, and trauma—with a tiny mic. What could go wrong?”

A/N: This unhinged one-shot was inspired by a brilliant anonymous request about interviewing B.O.W.s with a tiny mic—and I simply couldn’t resist. Instead of doing a standalone fic, I thought… why not unleash more chaos and fold it into the Wesker’s Assistant mini-series? The result? A deeply stressed H.U.N.K., a mic-wielding menace, and Nemesis showing up like a skincare-loving bodyguard. Thank you, anon. I had way too much fun with this. Hope you enjoy the carnage! 💉✨

🧠 Genres: crack, parody, horror comedy, found footage energy 📌 Featuring: H.U.N.K., Nemesis, Wesker (off-screen menace), and you 🎧 Keywords: chaotic assistant, tiny mic journalism, weaponized affection, emotional support mutant

Read the previous parts to discover more chaos:

Wesker’s Assistant Chronicles – Masterlist

A Wesker’s Assistant One-Shot Mini-Special

Classified Log – Subject: Umbrella Field Operation Location: Raccoon City Agent Assigned: H.U.N.K. Additional Personnel (Unapproved): Wesker’s Assistant

Wesker’s voice was crisp and cruel, but there was a glint of amusement buried under the disdain. “You disobeyed a direct order, HUNK.”

The man in black didn’t flinch. He stood motionless, arms behind his back, eyes unreadable behind his visor. His silence dared Wesker to continue.

“So I’m assigning you backup. Think of it as… a learning opportunity.”

HUNK’s jaw clenched beneath the mask. Still, he said nothing.

Wesker’s lips twitched, just slightly. “And by backup, I mean her.”

You waved from the back of the room, holding a sparkly pink notepad and a tiny USB mic. “Hi, I’ll be documenting the emotional depth of local B.O.W.s today. Technically, that’s not in the mission brief, but Wesker didn’t say I couldn’t. You know, for science.”

HUNK tilted his head half an inch. “You’re joking.”

Wesker wasn’t.

“And don’t lose her,” he added coolly. “I’ve got a bet going that she’ll outlive the Lickers.”

HUNK said nothing, but you were 90% sure that was his version of swearing internally.

Day One – 07:42 Hours

You were crouched behind a flipped ambulance, holding the tiny mic up like it was a sacred relic. “Excuse me, Mr. Licker, what does love mean to you?”

The Licker shrieked and pounced. A bullet cracked through the air. HUNK dragged you by the back of your vest like a misbehaving puppy.

“Target was hostile,” HUNK muttered, voice clipped, as he adjusted his grip on his weapon. A twitch of his gloved fingers was the only hint of the adrenaline spike he’d just ridden through.

“Yeah, but nonverbal,” you huffed, brushing glass off your sleeves. “I think we were getting somewhere. It twitched when I said ‘vulnerability.’”

HUNK didn’t respond. He just checked his gear. You noted he reloaded like it was an act of vengeance.

A second Licker hissed from a distance. You raised the mic again. “Sir, follow-up—do you feel misunderstood in a world that only sees your claws?”

Another shot rang out. You sighed. “Dramatic silence. I’ll allow it.”

You spent the rest of the day interviewing a rat. “Do you fear assimilation or celebrate mutation?” It squeaked and ran away. You nodded solemnly. “A true minimalist. Speaks volumes.”

Day Two – 15:19 Hours

Mr. X stood towering in a hallway like the world’s grumpiest bodyguard. You stood below him like an entertainment reporter at the Oscars.

“Sir,” you said with a dramatic flourish of your mic, “who’s your hat inspiration? Be honest—are you more of a bold accessory king or subtle fall layering enthusiast? Would you ever consider a scarf for fall?”

He blinked slowly. Then reached for you. HUNK’s boot collided with Mr. X’s ribs mid-grab. “Tyrant engaged. Extraction now.”

“Wait, I didn’t get his skincare routine—” you cried out, half-reach still extended toward Mr. X as you were yanked back like an unwilling correspondent mid-broadcast.

“You’re the extraction,” HUNK snapped, his grip firm and tone flat—though the barely concealed exasperation in his body language said he was regretting not just the mission, but every life choice that led to it.

“He has zero pores,” you muttered as you were yanked backward by your collar. “That’s not natural. I demand answers.”

You glanced over your shoulder just in time to see Mr. X pick up your mic and crush it in his hand like a soda can.

“My tiny mic!” you whimpered, hands outstretched like you'd just watched your firstborn get snapped in half. You dropped to your knees like a fallen soldier. “She was so young.”

“I brought backups,” HUNK said. You blinked. Did… did he plan ahead?

Later that evening, you crouched beside a cracked pillar, whispering into your mic, “This is ambient B.O.W. tension, take three. Very post-apocalyptic. Subtle dread.”

Suddenly, a guttural snarl echoed above. You looked up and saw a Hunter descending like a nightmare ballerina. You shrieked. Loudly. Your mic caught all of it in high fidelity.

HUNK blurred into motion, tackling the creature mid-air in a perfect arc. He slammed it to the ground with practiced ease and pinned it with one boot.

He turned his helmet your way, voice laced with dry fury. “Stop narrating your own death.”

Still breathless, you sat up, checking your recorder. “But it’s for the behind-the-scenes footage. The drama sells it.”

HUNK wiped gore from his visor and muttered something deeply judgmental into the comms.

Day Three – 23:04 Hours

You were pinned against a sewer wall while G-Virus-William stared you down with way too many eyes.

“Hi!” you chirped. “On a scale from 1 to ‘deep internal trauma,’ how would you rate your mutation?”

A tentacle shot forward. HUNK caught it mid-air and launched a flash grenade. “This isn’t an interview. It’s suicide.”

“And yet, somehow, I’m thriving,” you muttered, recording everything on your tiny mic.

“I swear to god if you try to rate his aesthetic—” HUNK growled, his voice nearly drowned out by another roar from William.

You didn’t even blink. With a flick of your wrist, you angled the mic toward the monstrosity and smiled brightly.

“Actually, I was going to ask if he regrets not moisturizing pre-transformation.” You gave a dramatic tilt of your head, like a talk show host pivoting into a deep question. “Because that forehead is doing a lot and none of it is exfoliated.”

Another tentacle slammed into the wall beside you. HUNK fired three precision shots and pulled you back just as acid splattered the cement.

“I am filing this under ‘survivor’s guilt journal entry #27,’” you said. “That’s a thing, right?”

“I’m requesting a transfer.” HUNK didn’t shout, didn’t growl—just muttered it with the numb exhaustion of a man who’d fought monsters, wars, and bureaucracy… but nothing like you. His visor tilted slightly upward as if appealing to a higher power that could make it stop.

As you were dragged to safety, you looked over your shoulder. “He didn’t even blink. That’s inner peace. Or rage. Maybe both.”

Day Four – 18:30 Hours

You found a lone zombie gnawing on a car bumper.

“Excuse me, sir, you’re on live audio,” you announced, stepping forward like a roving journalist with a death wish.

It moaned, lifting its head slowly, chunks of metal still wedged between its teeth.

“Do you have any thoughts on capitalism?” you asked with wide, journalistic sincerity, leaning forward like the zombie might have something meaningful to add. “Or perhaps the ethics of viral-based bioengineering?” You tilted your head, like this was the most natural small talk in the world between two intellectuals. The zombie groaned in response, tilting its jaw, which you interpreted as 'deep disapproval of corporate greed.'

It lunged with a guttural snarl. HUNK didn’t look up. His arm moved like muscle memory—one clean shot to the forehead. The body dropped.

“You’re asking philosophical questions to corpses,” he said dryly, voice edged with disbelief.

“And you’re expecting progress from bullets,” you replied, undeterred, wiping blood off your mic with a tissue printed with little skulls. “We all cope differently.”

“I’m asking the real questions,” you added, turning your mic back on with a click.

Later, you stood before a broken vending machine, one hand on your hip. “Mr. Machine, how does it feel to be the unsung hero in apocalyptic morale?”

The lights flickered once. Nothing dispensed.

“You’re losing it,” HUNK muttered behind you, voice muffled by sheer disbelief.

“I was never holding it,” you beamed, scribbling in your notepad: "Snack dispenser: emotionally unavailable."

Day Five – 13:45 Hours

You crouched beside the Cerberus, holding out a sparkly band-aid with a smile like you were offering candy to a toddler.

“Easy, buddy,” you cooed, crouching low and extending the band-aid like a peace offering. Your tone was soft, coaxing, like a kindergarten teacher talking to a tantrum-prone child. You gave a hopeful grin. “Let’s address those anger issues constructively—maybe with fewer teeth?”

It barked. Then bit your arm.

You screamed. “Rude!”

“Wow, so aggressive,” you muttered through clenched teeth, inspecting the bite. “We’ll circle back to trauma later. This feels unresolved.”

HUNK tasered the creature without hesitation. The Cerberus collapsed with a loud thud, still twitching. He turned and glared at you, his stance taut with disbelief. “You waved at it.”

“It wagged its tail!” you argued, holding up your now-bleeding forearm like evidence.

“That was bone displacement,” HUNK added flatly, eyeing your enthusiasm like it was a contagious disease. He didn’t even bother to look at the wound—his entire stance screamed “I told you so” without saying another word.

You huffed. “You say tomato, I say emotional wag.”

Day Six – 12:00 Hours

Wesker’s voice crackled through HUNK’s comms like static-soaked sarcasm.

“Sending additional reinforcement. Codename: Nemesis.”

HUNK froze.

“That’s not reinforcement. That’s escalation.” HUNK’s voice was tight, jaw grinding audibly through the comms as he stared into the middle distance.

You perked up instantly from where you were organizing gummy worm rations by emotional color spectrum—pink for betrayal, green for envy, blue for seasonal sadness. Your eyes lit up with manic delight. “Wait—Nemy’s coming?!” You scrambled upright, nearly knocking over your chart. “I need to find his loofah!”

Fifteen minutes later, Nemesis stomped into the ruined parking structure, dragging a rocket launcher and blinking affectionately. You waved. He blinked again. Then crouched down and pulled something out of a pouch. A mini scented candle. Lavender.

“He remembered!” you gasped, clutching your mic.

HUNK stood off to the side, arms crossed. “You have a history with this thing?”

“He’s emotionally complex,” you said proudly, lighting the candle. “Also, he likes cucumbers and pink bath bombs.”

Nemesis grunted. “STARS.”

You handed him a fresh mic with a glittery sticker on it. “Want to co-host?”

He accepted it gently between two claws. HUNK visibly aged ten years.

Two hours into the mission, Nemesis had carried you bridal-style across a collapsed fire escape, intercepted a Licker mid-air with one hand, and body-blocked a flaming truck for you.

HUNK, panting and covered in soot, stared at the two of you. His helmet slowly tilted upward, as though looking to the sky and asking whatever gods were out there, “Why me?”

“You were supposed to be bait,” he muttered, voice raspy with smoke and barely-contained despair.

You patted Nemesis’s arm with affection and placed a party hat delicately atop his head, the elastic struggling to stretch under his mutated chin. “He’s my emotional support weapon,” you declared, as if that explained everything.

Nemesis gave a low rumble, the kind of sound that could collapse drywall—but this one somehow sounded pleased.

HUNK’s arms dropped to his sides, as if the sheer absurdity had sapped the last of his will to fight. “You’re both banned from field operations.”

You blinked innocently. “Wesker doesn’t have that authority.”

“He made the authority,” HUNK replied, with the bitterness of a man who once believed rules could still protect him from madness.

Final Log – 04:01 Hours

You and HUNK sat in silence, bloodied, burnt, and absolutely done. He stared ahead—posture rigid, visor dark, as if reliving every explosion, scream, and unsolicited interview question from the past six days. You sat next to him on a broken crate, legs swinging idly, sipping juice from a Capri Sun like a child on a field trip.

You side-eyed him. "You know, you could’ve let me die."

“I tried,” HUNK replied, his voice tired and gravel-worn, like the statement cost him something personal.

“I know. I appreciate the consistency,” you said with a nod, as if he’d handed you a bouquet instead of a confession of attempted negligence.

“…You’re out of mic batteries,” he added after a beat, already bracing for the answer.

“I have more in my sock,” you replied cheerfully, pulling a triple-pack of color-coded backup mics from your boot like it was a clown car.

He didn’t even flinch. He just sighed. Loudly. Visibly. Existentially.

“I named your rifle,” you said softly, as if confessing a deep, emotional truth. You looked at him with all the sincerity of someone unveiling a masterpiece, eyes wide with pride and a hint of chaos.

HUNK finally turned his head toward you with slow, aching deliberation. “What.”

“Baby Boomstick.”

There was a beat of silence so heavy it could've been listed as a combat hazard.

“You’re insane,” HUNK muttered, almost admiringly, like one might describe a wild animal that knows how to open jars.

“Emotionally enriched,” you corrected, sipping your Capri Sun with serene finality.

He stared into the abyss. The abyss stared back. You offered it a sticker.

Post-Mission Debrief

Wesker reviewed the footage: Lickers shrieking. Mr. X walking away in visible confusion. William growling into a mic. Zombies moaning under poorly timed interview attempts. Nemesis lighting scented candles. HUNK exhausted. You giggling.

He threw the tablet across the room. “She’s still alive.”

Moments later, another report pinged in. Wesker squinted at the monitor, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn’t even open the file—just sighed like a man who had lost a chess match to a pigeon.

“I should’ve sent her to Antarctica.”

“Subject attempted to interview T-078 Tyrant with the phrase: ‘You strike me as a misunderstood romantic. Thoughts?’”

Wesker groaned into his hands. “She’s still alive and spreading quotes.”

(Interview rating: 10/10. Would annoy again.)

Read Part 5 >>> HERE <<<

[cyangxerr]

❝ You live to tease sylus but this time it goes wrong... or really, really right. Find out.❞

──── 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 ──────

This is a work of fiction.

I do not own the character Sylus—This story is purely based on my delusions and fan love I only own the Chaos, the writing, original plot of this story, and scenes belong to me. Beside that the character credit goes to Love and deep space Infold Pte Ltd.

English isn't my first language so I hope you can put up with my broken english.

Title : It all started as a prank

Author: @Cyangxer

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

❝This is my bikini for the summer.❞

You're sprawled out laying on your back on the leathered couch in your shared apartment, one leg thrown dramatically over the spine of the couch, phone hovering above your face like usual. Your other hand sprawled over the glassed coffee table ahead of your sofa. There rested a plastic bag of Takis as you pick at least 4 or 5 pieces at once and munch on it as if you're sharing it with somebody and you're trying to eat as much as you possibly can. Couch potato-but wait, is it really allowed to call you that? You mean, You just got home after work?right? You deserve the rest-some fun and snacks.

So now you're scrolling through TikTok, brain half-asleep and thumb on autopilot, when that prank pops up again. The one where girls hold up literal strings and tell their boyfriends, "This is my bikini for the summer." You cackle every damn time-watching those poor guys glitch, their reaction being like, "Are you for real right now?"

Another one scrolls by. You grin, nose scrunching but not enough to reach your eyes as you snort to yourself. This time, the guy just straight-up walks out the door like he's done. You've now seen at least 10 videos like that within that little scroll session.

And every time? You're crackling like a donkey that just saw a human more stupider than them.

Just as you're cackling like a menace, the thought hits like lightning. An evil idea is born.

Your head tilts. A slow, devious smirk curls across your lips.

Sylus.

The man. The myth. The menace you live to tease.

You let out a soft, unhinged giggle-the kind that carries pure evil in it. Because not teasing Sylus for a day? Equals to a boring day.

Some minutes later, you're still sprawled on the couch as your other hand still blindly searches for the Takis, rustling the plastic like a stray kitten digging through a trash bin-until your fingers hit bottom. Nothing. Just air and crumbs.

You freeze. Blink. Then glance at the bag like it personally betrayed you.

You sigh, seeing the empty nothing in the bag.

"I guess every good thing comes to an end."

You get up, grab the empty bag and clean the mess you've created. You glance at the clock-time was getting closer to Sylus's return. Your lips curl into a devilish smile.

Well... there's still other good things to come though.

You hear a car pull up in the driveway, and somehow, you know it's him. You get up, peeking out the top-glassed roof of your shared apartment as Sylus's car slides perfectly into his usual spot. A smirk tugs at your lips-almost biting them at the Sole sight of this man.

The night was nighting Dark and Dim. The only source of light being the flickering street lamps.

Yet even in that low glow, you make out the glint of his signature watch as he opens the car door.

His silver hair peeks out your eyes softening at the sight even after years of knowing him and months of dating you could never get enough of this man and honestly? Who could blame? His hair shined in the night. Heck. He shined in the night.

he gets out of the car- and as if he could feel your gaze. his eyes lift up to meet yours. His instincts were sharp as if he always has to be on alert your eyes widened at this. Slightly embarrassed. internally screaming. He caught you simping as if he wasn't already your man but he just smiles like he always did whenever your eyes meet. And like always? You return it happily.

After some seconds of time stopping eyes contact. He finally waves up at you with something on his hand. Then only you make out the bouquet he was holding with it. Your smile only widens. This time enough to reach your eyes. Your hands cover your mouth in surprise like every time.

He always brought you flowers- just because.

He's now on his way to the apartment. He walked like he was fond of the night. Which he was. And it seems night was fond of him too. He looked great in the sunlight but something about nightlight he looked more like him that time.

And before you realize it your legs are moving on their own to meet him halfway. You always greet him by the door-not because like a chore for a girlfriend or by the expectation of some "men" having their girl at the door steps. No.

But-just because.

Click. Then he twists the door knob making another clicking sound and you see him he's already stepping into the apartment the whole atmosphere changes and fills with his strong manly scent. gosh this man stinks of masculinity. He smelled so expensive yet with a hint of your own shampoo still lingering after a long day and there's this other scent like.. fireworks? But what does a grown ass man even do with the fireworks. In festivals? Okay. but on a normal day? Still he somehow wore it like a king. You loved him whole you didn't mind that. He walks in and the bright apartment a moments ago? Somehow his aura makes it darker the more he steps into it.

He's already smiling at the sight of you ahead as he opens his mouth to speak but you beat him to it "Welcome home." Your voice is soft, Loving and welcoming. He looks a bit surprised by that but also not so much. Then he lets out a chuckle it rumbles straight into his heart from his mouth "Always beating me, huh? But thank you Sweetie. For always welcoming me like this-" then he pauses "means a lot." The next sentence comes even more genuine. You could see in the way his eyes soften while saying it. The way his lips curls.

He wraps his strong arm around your waist your hands instinctively going over his shoulder. He kisses your temple "I missed you." He says it like he found a lost kitten after searching for it for so long.

You just grin cheekily swinging your hair on air sarcastically "How could you not." You say with a humor on your tongue. He laughs short "Damn right." He says as he leans slightly back to look at your face properly his eyes roam all over your features making your face tingle by his sharp gaze even if he looked like he was admiring you like a collection of arts he collected. It was still intense.

Like he just now remembered.

"...Right." His voice is low, a little rough. But still trying hard to make it sound softer just for you. "These are for you." he hands out the bouquet of your fav flowers. You blush flashing your grin "You never forget, do you? Your voice is laced with excitement and happiness. "How could I not? My kitten is on my mind 24/7. It's like you've reserved my head and you're that stubborn thought that I cannot not think of all the time. Not that I don't want to anyway." He replies his voice sounding cocky and dreamy at the same time. That makes you giggle.

Sylus was now in the bathroom taking a shower while you were planning a mischief you were ready with the string on your hand and your phone already on record. Smiling at the camera you had placed in the table in front while you sat on the couch comfortably. After the wait he finally comes out with a towel wrapped around his hips you sniff as if sniffing away the invisible blood coming from your nose from all hotness. Well the room was certainly getting hotter.

Anyway you cough out the sexyness. It's not like you haven't seen this man like this already. Back to the mission.

"Heyyy~" you greet him with a hint of excitement you couldn't hide. He glances back at you with a suspicious look "Y/n what are you planning?" He asks his voice suspicious but curious. You open your mouth in a mock offense your hands resting on your chest "Why'd you think that?" You spit out acting offended. He just smirks "Because last time you did that it didn't end well." His eyes spoke more than his tone did. Yup he was teasing you.

You open your mouth then close right back up remembering the night of that day the day your "little fun" backfired. But not this time you're prepared so you bite your lips together closing your eyes as if controlling yourself before spitting out something feisty and ending this before it even starts.

You just smile sweetly up at him it was an act he knew it well. Well you didn't try to hide it well in fact you wanted him to realize it. It was an act. "Why dont you come join me?" You pat the seat next to you. He raises his brow "Like this?" He points to his half naked form. You squint your eyes. Maybe it was better if he was fully clothed for this plus you dont want the whole titkok to see your man like the way only you get to see plus figured it would be a distraction for you.

After a full thought battle with yourself you say "umm.. you're right." You nod. "Shooo go get dressed-" You flap your hand in air signing a go. "you little slut." You smirk ending the last line with a cocky ness in your tone. Right back at you.

It has him flabbergasted he is taken a back then he slowly side eyes you but then rolls his eyes. Sighs. And leaves to get dressed. Murmuring "I'm not little." Well he was getting used to this.

You're now both seated at the couch. Sylus now fully clothed. You look at him. He looks right back at you. You look at him. He sighs "What?" He breaks the silence. "Why are you looking at me like that?" He suspiciously asked. Then only you realize you've been grinning stupid at him for the last few minutes.

"Do you know why you're here today?" You cheerfully ask. "Well I'd know if you'd just tell me." He longers the tell in his tone. "Right." You nod. "You're here as my dress reviewer today yay, isn't it fun?"

He blinks but nods anyway and says "Yayy" in the most manliest voice possible. Well to him he actually wanted it to sound feminine but. His voice betrays him.

You're already a cackling mess making fun of him. Bullying sylus is a job you don't get paid for. well you do actually from all the spoiling he does to you to the extent you're uncomfortable accepting them.

Remembering the point you stop midway. He looks at you concerned now. Did u just glitch? The only glitch he knows to fix is the computers not humans. When he was about to ask if you're fine. you cough. Serious mood on.

"Alright, you're here to rate my bikini for the summer okay?" You excitedly announce trying your best to hide out the giggle you've been surpassing thank fully he doesn't notice. Perks of being good at acting.

"Show me." He nods actually showing interest waiting patiently and then you look closer There's a hint of excitement in his eyes he tries hiding but you read it like an open book.

Then the ultimate reveal. "Ready?" U ask with so much enthusiasm Just to pull out the string from the hidden place, your pocket.

He looks a little longer at the string on your hand then smirks his reaction being like why am I not surprised?

"Didn't know we were going to a nude beach this summer." He matches your freak. Then he pulls out his phone and starts doing something in it. You frown. that's it? No other reaction?

"Heyy" you whine tugging at his t-shirt. "How dare you pull out a phone in front of me." He just laughs that devilish laugh and you knew he was plotting something "I'm not." He says with a raise in his brow finishing his sentence. You peek into his phone "What are you doing anyway?" You ask.

"Booking a private beach." He flatly says like it's not a big deal. Well to him technically it wasn't.

"Oh my god." You face palm yourself your tone disappointed rather than grateful you knew if another person was offered this they would take it happily but not you. The guilt of having money spent on you was bigger than you being thankful for it.

He notices your reaction and he looks slightly disheartened "Why? Don't you like it?"

You rush to comfort him "No." You quickly and flatly say "It's just.. I feel guilty." You add.

Sylus looks at you like he understands where you're coming from and he does. He cups your cheeks making you look at him and hold eye contact "Why, kitten? Just think of it like my money your money."

You give him the eye "Well it's not."

Sylus seems to be searching for ways to solve that "Well do you want me to transfer my bank money? Or even better want me to write you as my inheritance to all my properties?"

You gasp "Syluss." You warn.

He just laughs his fingers graze his lips as if zipping his mouth up and holding his hand up in a mock defense "Alright. Whatever my lady asks."

You shake your head with a sigh.

"But come to think of it kitten, it would be fun with just us. No other people." He says trying his best to convince you. And it wasn't helping you were falling for it yet you remain the hard image. "Come on, kitten. You hate the crowds." He adds.

You sigh in defeat "Alright but this will be the last time." His eyes shine and you could see he was doing his victory dance inside.

Now you feel like you owe him something. And the only thing you have to give him in this moment... is a kiss. Or maybe more than just a kiss.

So you lean in. Your lips meet his softly at first. He responds instantly, but there's something restrained in the way he kisses you back. Like he wants to fall into it but something holds him back.

Then he pulls away.

Your brows knit together in confusion.

Did you mess up? Did he not like it?

His eyes are locked on yours, lips parted slightly, like he's caught between pulling you again or standing perfectly still, His breath hitches His hands are at his sides like He's barely holding back but he has to. He's slightly flushed, cute.

He looked at you with that all-too-familiar way of seeing right through you. And it all made sense.

He speaks up after a sickening silence "Don't kiss me just because you think you owe me," he says, voice low, careful.

Your breath catches. He knew. He always knew.

But this time he was only half right.

Sure,you felt like you owed him. But you're not offering him a kiss just for that. But just because- you want to.

You smirk grabbing him by the collar pulling him down with you, your back sinking into the couch cushions beneath you. The fabric brushes your skin as his body hovers just inches from yours.

His breath hitches just barely. Surprise flashes in his eyes, but he masks it quickly with that cocky smirk. That infuriating signature smirk.

"How come you're so good at reading people," you murmur, your voice a touch lower, a teasing whisper brushing his skin, "but you can't read me?"

He tilts his head, eyes scanning your face again. The smugness falters just a crack. His brows knit slightly, lips parting as if trying to decipher a code he should've known by now.

Then he chuckles. Quiet, deep. Dangerous.

"You can say that," he murmurs, voice laced with warmth and challenge, "but you can't deny I wasn't halfway there."

You roll your eyes but the gesture is more amused than annoyed. Your chest rises as his weight dips a little closer. You could feel the heat radiating off him now. It lingered in the air between you. Thick, like gravity.

Your patience snaps.

"Just kiss me already," you breathe, your tone somewhere between frustration and craving but-demanding.

His gaze darkens instantly. And with a glint in his eye and a pull of his lips, he obeys, leaning in his mouth brushing yours with delicious slowness.

You tighten your grip on his collar pulling him even closer.

This man liked being ordered around.

And you? You loved being the one ordering around.

A/N : hello dear reader! If you've made it this far tysm for reading this. I've mixed up 2 chapters from Wattpad into this because it looked too short here. Get to know more about these characters and author on Wattpad @Cyangxer. Ty.

[kawaiiblossoms04]

🌸Story Title: A Rose in a Gilded Cage | Sukuna x Black/Brown Reader

🌸A/N : As always, here’s a little glimpse of what’s to come, my darlings.

Thanks to my day off and pulling an all-nighter or two, I’ve been able to make some good progress on the story. Hopefully, I’ll be able to post later this week after editing!

Reminder of the AU - I may or may not have been inspired by Avatar: The Last Airbender and...90 Day Fiancé when creating this story. Yes, it's a strange combo, but hey, inspiration works in mysterious ways. Judge me if you must, but it's my guilty pleasure, and I have no regrets. It’s coming along pretty nicely if I do say so myself.

🌸Now, onto the reason your beautiful eyeballs are still lingering here—

Your hand came up to slap, but his own larger palm intercepted it, clutching with a strong grip around your wrist and tightening until it felt like he might crush the bone, a menacing frown replacing the smirk he wore seconds before.

"Don't hit me again," he hissed dangerously low as his other hand pressed harder against your throat. "This is the second time. One more strike, disrespectful whore, and I promise there'll be no wedding...but a funeral."

"Just kill me already. Fuck at least I'll die standing up to you." you responded with no hesitation, narrowing your eyes at him.

His eyes flashed with an odd fascination, surprised with your sudden attitude. He tsked, shaking his head side to side with disbelief before breaking his silence "you know I like you more and more. And the more I look at you...the more think I might have actually lucked out. You have a pair and would've made a great soldier." his thumb stroked your lips and dragged to the side slowly.

It caught you off guard, the words, the sudden compliments.

"What...What are you doing. Let go." you struggle and tugged.

"Huh." his eyes lazed and pupils dilated, an allure taking over him as a chuckle released, his brows raising with a devious grin. "I think that pretty, fiery spirit has some definite merit to it and as a bonus, it has some secret kinks too" His smile curled at the corners and his hold on your wrist weakened. "A fighter but I saw a small part of submission too."

His hand trailed lower, gently running over your ass. He applied pressure before easing with a firm hold and your thighs quivered and squeezed, tight and closing on impulse. Then he guided your hands over his broad chest. "Feel that? That's raw power, something no one else can give you. A woman like you deserves a man strong enough to protect her, even if she doesn't want it... You don't realize how pretty—soft, vulnerable, and far too innocent-looking you are." He confessed.

"Well," you faked a small cough and took a small inhale through your nose "That's exactly why I told myself a filthy man like yourself will never have me. And, yes I do know I am pretty," the air that left you carried a hint of attitude. "Very pretty actually, thank you and I can take care of myself." You reminded. "And unfortunately, everyday I will be forced to see that ugly, cocky smirk."

He grinned at your choice of insult, laughing under his breath. He had to admit he liked your confidence. The arrogant and brazen exterior was attractive in its own, unexpected way.

"What an interesting thing you are." He hmmed appreciatively, as the look on his face was calm but you knew he didn't give up on trying, continuing the game. His palm slipped under your shirt and trailed the flesh along your lower back, the gentle caresses turning your skin to a fiery hot blaze, prickling every sense, aware of how dangerous of a man you were dancing with.

"Hey." You squealed, not letting your facade fade and pulled at the hem, trying removing his hand with haste.

"Relax."

"Don't touch me...you already do it enough. We aren't getting intimate anytime soon, bastard." you snapped.

"We aren't?" his grin didn't disappear. His hold and palm slid up and around your torso to your rear, brushing over and squeezing roughly and feeling, savoring the tenderness. He trailed the outer creases and grasped firmly before another few taps to feel it jiggle under his fingertips.

"Knock it off, or I'll beat the living spirits out of you."

His playful behavior changed to one of interest and focused his attention on you. "The question is. Do you'd like it rough? Or do want me to be gentle?" He mused and chuckled as the seriousness fell.

You clicked your tongue with displeasure. You pushed away his arm and distance yourself quickly and backing up to the corner with a scowl. "Men like you disgust me, you make women feel dirty. And...as my future 'husband' or whatever. I will keep things as they are until we get married, then...we have to do our duties."

He looked as if you said something humorous.

"You mean until you spread your legs for me... or until you're begging to bounce on my cock... right?" his expression held amusement at how bothered and shocked you appeared.

You huffed, annoyed.

The whole subject was irritating.

The Fire Nation Prince would never admit aloud that he did long to bed you. It was true, A woman never told him no, ever, and yet, you did, over and over, and all he could do is stare back at his soon to be wife and the silent stare battle continued. The deep blue hues in your eyes pierced his fiery amber red hues, matching in intensity as the staring battle continued.

His eyes traced you over and over again and his mind was flooded with possibilities and vivid fantasy. He closed his eyes and saw it, you moved against him with the same enthusiasm, your curls whipping wildly in a frenzy as he'd slam you hard in a rapid tempo from underneath him with your ass in the air with your beautiful breast bouncing in view.

You'd toss your head back as a low moan left your parted lips. You fucked yourself on him eagerly, your ass would jiggled every time the tip of his cock prodded in and out as if it had a mind of its own. He press your small body into the mattress, a hand holding a fistful of those gorgeous curls and another firm smack to that perky rear for being such a disobedient girl as your greedy pussy clenched, fluttering around him tightly ready to milk him for everything he had...

He swore under his breath.

'That. That would feel magnificent.' He concluded as he sighed with content.

His thoughts were interrupted at the sound of an inpatient huff.

The view had not changed, still your annoying pretty face that infuriated him beyond anything. But he'd be lying if he said a stubborn girl like you didn't excite him. He wondered how you tasted, but he had no doubt you'd look amazing sitting on his face. Perhaps you'd be the first woman to be given that honor.

"Come back over here." He ordered with a deep tone, his dominating voice returning.

You stuck your nose into the air, pouting with a sneer, folding arms with a 'Hmph!'

His mouth set in a tight line. A muscle jumped in his cheek, irritation rising.

His body held a sense of command and forcefulness as he cocked his head toward his lap, making clear he wanted your ass on it.

He stared, unblinking. "C'mere."

You stood silently, meeting his crimson gaze head on and shook your head, "Hell. No."

There it was, again. The stubbornness. The defiance. Sukuna drew in a sharp breath, annoyed. "Hmmm. Okay..."

🌸—Sorry Sukuna’s harassing y’all—but let’s be honest, I think we’d all let him.

A Rose in A Gilded Cage

All rights reserved © 2025 KawaiiBlossoms. Do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works on any platform.

[wolverinesbuttcheeks]

”I need touch.” ⭐️

A/N so this is my first ever oneshot!! I know in am ass at writing- so I’m sorry in advance.

PLEASE TELL ME IF I SHOULD WRITE MORE- AND I REALLY COULD USE REQUESTS!!

rating: pg-13

tags: angst, (kinda)fluff, sassy cas, and more? Idk.

You arrive at the place you call home. 

A small dingy apartment that smells funny. It was a long grueling day, you were a nurse at a children’s hospital. You always had a nice relationship with children- but you’ve never really put the idea of you having a child of your own. 

You proceed to kick off your shoes and jump into the shower. Flipping the faucet on and letting the comforting warm water cascade down your body. As you got out drying your hair, there was a knock at the door. Slipping on your casual large shirt and shorts, you open the door. You are met with a woman with red hair, claiming that you are a witch. Roweana she said. You were about to brush her off and tell her buzz off when a sound of wings captured your attention. 

You were met with a man that appeared beside you, telling roweana to go with him. The feisty woman sprang into action, quickly shooting some sort of… zap out of her fingers, after she chanted something in another language…? You were confused, when all of a sudden your body was thrown across the room, hitting the wall. Soon after your vision blurred and the darkness that crept in the corner of your eye engulfed you.

You stirred awake, not remembering the previous things that had happened to you. As you awoke better, the memories flooded in, and the strange room around you had you thinking you must have died. “Is this heaven….? Or- hell?” You muttered to yourself. 

“Neither.”

There was a gravely voice behind you. Not only did it startle you, you were angry, and you had a harsh burn in you abdomen. All of a sudden the blanket the is placed on top of you sends electricity through your body. This causes you to immediately fling the cloth off of your body. 

You lay there, your chest heaving. Everything that touched you hurt, it sent electricity through your bones.

The man in the trenchcoat just stood there, staring. Suddenly the large recognizable shirt and shorts became enemy’s, the burning sensation running through your body as you lay in the bed become insane. You jumped harshly ripping the clothing off of your body leaving you in your underwear. 

You were standing now, tears rolling down your face at the pain that everything caused. Castiel remained the same, but there was a slightly pinker shade tinting his face as he looked at you. You didn’t even care what he saw anymore.  You reached for the door handle, when the metal of the doorknob collided with your hand it burned. You quickly turned the handle and stumbled down the hall. where were you? You wandered to the next room and poked your head into a room that looked exactly the same as the other, except this one had a couple photos decorating the surface of the desk. 

You grunted as you continued padding down the hallway, when suddenly contact. Your body screamed in pain as you fell back against the floor- causing you more pain than you began with. Heavy breathing, and sobs were all you could hear. It was all coming from you. Your vision was slightly blurry as you looked up at a VERY tall man with brown hair. He seemed to be slightly flustered, he reached down to scoop you up, but the moment he touched you- you screamed out in pain. Soon, there was another man standing next to the tall one. He was grinning, but you couldn’t make out what he said. 

You slowly stood up and stared at the two men in front of you. Then there was contact in your shoulder, but this one felt good, it was sending a heat throughout your entire body. You looked at your shoulder to see a hand, you wuickly turned- revealing the man in the trenchcoat. Quickly- you wrapped your arms around the man, in an attempt to escape the pain that radiated off of your skin. The man was tense at first, but then he eventually wrapped his arms around you.

“What’s wrong with me?” You whimpered into the man’s shoulder. You were still practically naked. You were exposed, and on your tiptoes hugging some man that could have been the one that caused the pain in the first place. 

“What the fuck is wrong with me?”

[stardustlin]

miguel o’hara x sassy! reader

summary: you bug him to no end but he kinda digs it.

you always had a knack to annoy and push miguel’s buttons to NO end. you were considering annoying but he would never tell you that upfront because despite his cold and stoic demeanor he found it very amusing and entertaining. you were the one to keep him on his toes no matter what it is and he silently thanked you for that. since high school, you had been a constant presence in his life, often finding pleasure in teasing and challenging him. and although it frustrated him to no end, there was something intriguing about your audacity that couldn't be denied.

one afternoon, the two of you found yourselves sitting on the rooftop of a tall building, enjoying the panoramic view of the bustling city below. the wind tousled your hair as you leaned back on your elbows, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“so, migggyyyyy," you began, your voice dripping with playful sarcasm, "ever thought of joining the circus with those fancy spider powers of yours? i’m sure the acrobats would be jealous."

miguel rolled his eyes, a smirk on his lips as he fired back, "as tempting as that sounds, i think i’ll stick to saving the world. something tells me my talents are better put to use there."

you chuckled and nudged him playfully. "oh, come on, miguel. don’t tell me you've never dreamed of flying through the air, performing death-defying stunts, all while wearing a flashy costume. it’s every superhero's dream, isn't it?" you slightly slapped his arm in a playful manner of course, and it didn’t hurt him he just pretended it did which he rubbed on the spot where you hit him.

he then shrugged a bit, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "maybe it is. but my dream isn't just about the excitement and showmanship. it’s about making a difference, protecting those who can't protect themselves."

you raised an eyebrow, a playful smile dancing on your lips. "well, aren't you just a big heroic ball of responsibility? i suppose i can't fault you for that."

miguel grinned, his red eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and admiration. it was undeniable — your sass, your unwillingness to let him off the hook easily, it fueled something within him. it sparked a fire in his veins, pushing him to constantly prove himself and keep up with your banter. he was glad he kept you around this entire time because god knows other people wouldn’t be able to handle you just the way he can.

“ah, my dear y/n," miguel purred, his voice dripping with drollery, "you never cease to entertain me. i suppose i’ve become quite fond of these little battles we engage in. keeps life interesting, doesn't it?"

you smirked, basking in the knowledge that you had this effect on him. "glad to be of service, o’hara. after all, someone has to keep you on your toes. can’t have that grumpy face of yours going to waste."

he chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that sent shivers down your spine. "you’re impossible, you know that? but i suppose, deep down, i wouldn't have it any other way." he leaned in close to your face to keep you a small kiss on the lips. you deepened it as you cupped his face and slid onto his lap. he slithered his arm around your waist with a protective grip while the other held you cheek. the romantic tension was undeniably clear and neither of you were dumb to see it.

[isabeauwolf]

Law x Plus Size Nurse Reader 5

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 5: Misunderstandings

You had seen Ikkaku in passing several times, even giving each other basic greetings, but this was the first time you two had actually sat down and talked.

The woman had dark brown curly hair, tied into a thick braid running down her back and light brown eyes.

You knew she was a part of Law's main team. An impressive feat in its own right since the renowned Surgeon would become busy with his own tasks and work, both his skills in the operating room and duties as the Chef and owner of the hospital itself.

After eating lunch and talking with an extra ten minutes to spare, you decided to ask Ikkaku for advice since she was closer to Law. "Has doctor grumpy always been such a pain in the ass?" You ask, lowering your voice and covering the side of your mouth with your hand. "I swear it feels as if he's even more of a grouch when I'm around."

Ikkaku's lips pressed into a thin line as she snorted through her nose, covering her mouth as a string of giggles slipped out. "Boy, you're as blunt and honest as they come, aren't you?"

"What's wrong with that?" You lower your hand and sip your drink, shrugging. "I hate lying, even white lies." Leaning your elbow on the table and resting your cheek in the palm of your hand. "Besides my poker face sucks."

Ikkaku hums and asks a question of her own. "So what happened early this morning?" Her eyes twinkled with interest, smile widening. "Heard you gave Cap a stern talkin' to and stripped down naked in front of him and the rest of the onlookers."

You blushed bright red and cringed. "I wasn't completely buck assed naked." You correctly, covering your heated face. "Still had my bra and underwear on. It was an impulse; I was hangry and tired." You sighed. "I don't get it. Law could have asked anybody else, but he kept pushing and pushing." You ranted. "I wanted to shut him up, wipe that stupid, smug and sexy assed smirk off his face..." Your eyes widened. "Shit. Forget I said that."

Ikkaku raised a brow, her smile widening into a smirk. "From what I've heard from Pen and Shachi you certainly are an interesting person." She reached over and lightly pat your hand. "Besides being confidant in your own skin like that takes a lot of guts." Her bright smile returning, it's genuine. "You aren't ashamed of your own beauty, which I think a lot more woman need in their lives." She pulls away. "It's inspiring really."

"Thanks." You lowered your hand and gave her a smile. "Took a lot of years to feel comfortable about my body not being like a super model. To learn to love myself first." You finished your coffee and sighed. "Self-love is best love, isn't it?"

"Hell yeah it is." Ikkaku stood and picked up her tray.

You followed, throwing away your trashed and returning the red reusable tray on the cart beside the trashcan.

Ikkaku pulled out a pen and small notebook. "Oh, here's my number if you ever want to talk, hang out or nag about Cap some more." She tears it off and offers it to you. "I know he can be a handful, but he's not all scowls, mopey, and emotionally constipated."

You took it. "You mean he can smile?" You joke, laughing. "And not look like his face is permanently frozen with the world's worst hangover and resting bitch face?"

You both laugh and cackle loud, drawing the attention of Penguin, Shachi and Law himself.

You tear off a piece of the paper and give her your number in return, smiling. "Here and thanks for talking with me. I appreciate it." You shoved you hand inside the front of your pocket, pulling out your phone. You had a few missed calls from both Nami and Robin, even Gramps. "I love my job. I love helping people." You explained, smile dimming. "It's because of my friends that I've worked so hard to become a nurse... and yet... it feels as if I've done something to keep pissing off Cap and I don't know what I did?" You admitted, grip tightening on your phone. "If he wants to fire me or has a problem with me, I wish...." You pause and sighed, frowning. "I wish... he'd tell me to my face instead of pussyfooting around and scowling about it."

That made all four of them pause. Then again, none of them could blame you for thinking such a thing about how the boss has been treating you. Out of the four, you knew Trafalgar Law the least. You picked up a few of his mannerisms, speech patterns and habits, but nothing more. Nothing too personal or intimate, nothing out of the norm for a boss and his coworker.

Ikkaku opened her mouth to offer encouragement when Law spoke first. "L/n may I see you in my office, please?"

You jumped in fright, half turning and meeting Law's molten silvers. "Jesus, Cap. Can you please not sneak up on me like a ninja or something." You place your hand over your heart and take a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Make some damn noise wouldya?"

"Sorry." He replied and nodded his head towards outside the cafeteria. "Follow me, please."

"Sure." You mutter, staring back at Ikkaku who offered you a thumbs up and a smile.

Well, shit. How much of my trash talking and bitching did he hear? Did you really overstep and push him too hard this morning and before lunch time? Was the dessert me offered you out of pity or sympathy? A good deed before shoving you out the door?

The more you thought about it. The larger your stomach dropped and knots twisting in your gut, anxiety crawling and spreading like tiny ants. Calm down. It's fine. It's all going to be fine. It's not the end of the world... if Law fires you today... right? Okay. You lied. It would suck so bad. Being fired by your crush would hurt worse than a papercut and getting lemon juice and salt dumped onto the wound.

In a flash you two were in front of Law's office.

Your eyes trailed up Law's back, licking your lips as you settled your nerves and clenched your fists tight. It's now or never. You took a deep breath and muttered sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Doctor Trafalgar." You closed your eyes, tears prickling at the corners.

You didn't see the taller man pause, his inked hand tightening hard on the door handle, muscles bunching and straining underneath his shirt. The complete definition of shock written all over his face as he twirled and snuck a glance at you. You were trembling and your eyes were closed, close to bursting into tears. Why?

Law swallowed, his heart ached in his chest and his face softening into a deep frown before remasking it. "What?" He cleared his throat and tried again. "What are you apologizing for, L/n?" Facing the door and opening it.

You opened your eyes, a trail of tears falling. "You..." You whisper softly, you sounded pathetic and broken even to your own ears.

"I'm what?" Law asked. Resisting everything in his body to remain standing perfectly still, in complete control and resist the need to reach for you and cradle you into his chest. Whisper sweet words until you calm down. Instead, he waited.

Waiting to hear whatever you had to say.

You sniffed, rubbing your cheek with the back of your hand. "You're firing me aren't you, Trafalgar?" Great, Law had been you cry twice today.

Law's eyes widened as his heartbeat stilled, and he forgot how to breath. "Wh-?" The Surgeon genuinely appeared confused, searching for any sign of a prank or a lie. He found none. You. You honestly believed that he was going to fire you. "Why?" He asked in a breathless whisper before speaking louder. "What could have possibly given you that conclusion?" His shock was replaced with anger, his jaw tightened as he took a deep breath and tried to bite back a seething glare. "Did someone mention something?"

You shook your head. "No, sir."

Law knew you were being polite and minding your manners. He's your boss. Your superior. You were using his last name and giving him proper respect. He knew that. And yet, it felt foreign and wrong coming from your mouth. The Surgeon was so used to your sassy comebacks and banter, your playful jabs and silly nicknames for him that hearing you call him by his last name didn't sit well with him.

Not at all.

It felt as if you two had gone back to level zero, two years back in time to when you first started working here.

He absolutely didn't like it.

He wanted bang his head against his office door. What the hell had you done to him? He should be the one apologizing to you. Not the other way around! Law had been an ass all day, though it wasn't his intention. He wanted to spend more time with you. Get closer to you. His pride and awkwardness got in the way, so Law had done what he'd always had whenever he was nervous... he'd become stiff, snarky and snippy. Even when he wanted to slap himself in the face or shambles himself away with his devil fruit.

He could work days without sleep, hours in the operating room or doing boring paperwork and re-reading his notes and textbooks until he was completely exhausted and yet... he couldn't tell you how he felt yet. He didn't want to push you. Here he was going it anyway.

Couldn't he do anything right? Or normal? Why couldn't you see that seeing you hurt, distressed or in pain hurt him too? Why did love and matters of the heart have to be so complicated, so messy?

Law sighed, running his free hand through his unruly thick black hair and opened the door wider before stepping aside, holding it open. "Just... Just get in and sit down, please, L/n..." He met your questioning gaze and noticed your hesitation. "I'm not firing you." He pressed gently as he could. "If I did, I would have done it on the spot and not in my office."

Oh, you heard stories alright of Law losing his temper and nearly cutting a guy in half for being a complete dick both to Law himself, his staff and coincidentally to you. You think that's the only time you had been Law so enraged, so murderous, losing his cool and his temper over something that guy had said.

You'd never forget a guy as huge and creepy as Law's adoptive Uncle Doflamingo Donquixote or his adoptive father and Doflamingo's younger brother, Rosinante Donquixote. Two giant blonde men with opposite personalities, both raising Law. Since both had no children of their own Law had been named their heir and successor to the Donquixote fortune and titles. Or so you've heard.

It's another reason why Doctor Trafalgar Law is so crabby, so guarded and closed off.

You don't blame him. You imagine a lot of people have tried to get closes to the Doctor to win his favorite or get connections to the big, feathered brothers through Law.

You only met them once or twice during the hospitals Christmas and New Years banquet on your way out the door after leaving work. Even as someone as tall as Law looked like a dwarf compared to those two.

Shaking your head you slowly walked inside Law's office, past him and sat down in one of the fancy, brown leather chairs. God, you hated these chairs. They made you feel fat, as if you were sitting inside a kiddy chair and feared you'd embarrass yourself and get stuck. Like you needed Law to help you get out of it. Oh yeah, real sexy. You scoot to the edge of the seat, literally a smidge of your ass touching the seat, pressing your thick thighs together and folded your hands into your lap, sat up-straight and prayed to God whatever the hell this was would go by fast.

---- End of Chapter 5 -----

I know, I know reader is dense as f and Law is overly stubborn, but don't worry it will be worth it! I promise! Did you like how I snuck in Doffy and Rosi? ;) I had to! Gimme your thoughts, my lovelies!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Want more Law x reader? I've got you!

Merman Law x reader Law x Pregnant reader

Tag list: @m0sigma7 @angelblueflame @pandora-writes-one-piece @short-honey-badger @supreme-burrito @fanaticsnail @turtletaubwrites @cherry-queens-blog @fairymama624 @mrstraffy @kira-scarllet @strawheart-pirate @azuragalaxya @kira-scarllet @the-ginger-draws @cericebelle @emlikesfl0w3rs @aceismyloveforever @mrstrafalgardwater24 @imsnk-ow @thekatisspooky @lunulatalux @physics-of-one-piece @honeyshiddendesire @pinkbun1 @vlntnxvoc @chillerkiller @rubyninja1

[jaundicehinch]

I'm thinking about a fanfic i should write where sev gets to see the reader grow from their first year as a slytherin and both of them eventually die in the battle of hogwarts, where they confess their love for eachother and in the afterlife :33

[ravnarieldurin]

I may or may not be incorporating this into a 'Modern Woman in Middle-Earth' fanfiction that I started while I was sick in December.

I am still working on my long fic with Raven and the Sons of Durin. The next chapter is coming out tomorrow after a long break of writer's block and IRL issues. But it feels good to be back in the writing saddle and I'm ready for the journey!

Imagine getting into an argument with Thorin and him saying, “I am a king!” And you look him in the eye and reply with, “I don’t give a shit!”

Submitted by @scarlet-deer-of-the-dark-one

[rumeras]

Banter with Rafayel goes HARD

I’d absolutely swing on this man daily if we were together. The way he’d get under my skin.

[you’re late]

“If you wanted a divorce you could have just said that.”

“Raf, we aren’t even married.”

“Well, we won’t be now.”

[you smile at the cashier in greeting]

“Am I intruding?”

“Oh my god.”

“What? I’m not worthy of your attention anymore, I understand.”

[you have art hanging in your apartment that isn’t his]

“Traitor.”

“I’m supporting small businesses.”

“Even worse. A traitor with no remorse.”

[you receive a drink from a stranger at a bar]

“Why are you the only one who gets sent drinks?”

“You haven’t left my side this whole time.”

“Well, I’m committed, isn’t that hot in a man?”

“A taken man, yes.”

“...”

“Sigh, bartender!”

[you don’t ask him to pick you up when your bike’s in the shop]

“You hate me.”

“I didn’t want to bother you?”

“What I’m hearing is I don’t love you.”

“You were at an exhibition.”

“Which I didn’t care about, don’t make me a bad boyfriend, call me.”

[you had a pet beta fish before you started dating him]

“There’s only room for one of us in your life.”

“That is a fish.”

“Yeah, a fish who’s seen you naked.”

“Raf—”

pt 2

[dissolved-g1rl]

diva-off! ˋ°•*⁀➷

“Would you fuckin’—“ Mark groans swatting your chilled hands away from chest, pushing you so you can’t press your cold toes against his calf. You groan, you thought maybe by now he’d be asleep and ready to cuddle. “Mark!, You can’t be mad all night!” you mumbled with a click if your tongue. “Says who?” hes quick to reply, he’s actually fucking dramatic. You think it’s the consequence of dating a guy who was an only child for so long.

He’s stripped down to his boxers (tease!), holding one of your pillows to his chest to hide his muscular chest from your cold hands, so you can’t warm your hands up on his pecs. He’d usually think it’s fair, if you let him stick his hands between your tits, he figures you can do the same, feminism or whatever…. “I told you’d you i’d buy you another!” you whine, lean over to see him with his eyes closed, pretending to sleep, fucking faker!

He had brought seance dog over, it was a terrible, horrible mistake that you had accidentally knocked your glass over and it got the thing all wet, it became impossible to read. He’s sulky, he’s been waiting all week for the new issue to come out! “I’m gonna have to wait another week.” he says turning so his back is facing you, he’s cuddling a pillow instead of you, which makes you roll your eyes. “Well patience is a fucking virtue.” you say squinting at him, who would’ve thought Mark Grayson is such a fucking drama queen. “Hmmph.” You actually hear him hmmph you. “Mark if you don’t stop acting like a baby, im never giving you head again.” You say, its a mean threat but desperate times, desperate measures you suppose. His eye cracks open, trying to gauge how serious you are, the frown and furrow of your brows are good signs of your seriousness.

“….Just your feet.” He says closing his eyes again. “Whatever, you’re fucking neurotic, I hope you know.” You grumble, but you’re actually relieved that you can wrap your arms around him, even with the dumbass pillow in between the two of you. You yelp when he pinches the fat of your hip in retaliation. You press your cold feet against his legs and things are okay again. And when the sun rises, you’re able to score the new issue of seance dog from some little kid who was expecting something better, and Mark’s so happy he laps at your cunt for forgiveness, comic book over your womb so he can flip the pages as he indulges in his other favorite hobby.

credit to @kodaswrld for banners

a/n: yikes its been a million years…. i like to think mark lowk has only child syndrome, and its your girlfriendly duty to deal with it smh

[amymbona]

Mike Faist and his fucking cocky smirk - frown ish - furrowed brows - parted lips - half closed eyes - little wrinkles - sassy bitch expression