Deadly Indifference | One-shot

Deadly Indifference | one-shot

Deadpool X M!Reader

tw: swearing, mentions of sew a slide thoughts (from both tbh)

Summary: Deadpool wants you to show emotion. (And bugs the crap out of you.)

You sat tied to a chair, remarkably composed despite the circumstances. It’s been your third time getting kidnapped this week and it’s only Tuesday. The man who kidnapped you must’ve died already because a man in red and black walked through the door. He mimed the motion of up and down that you felt too familiar to notice.

“Hey there, buddy,” Deadpool chimed cheerfully, pacing around you. The ropes that tied your wrists to the chair felt surprisingly loose.“You know, most people would be sweating their balls off right about now. But, you’re just chillin’. I like that.”

You glanced up at him with a mild shrug, a gesture that only seemed to fuel Deadpool’s curiosity.

He’s a chatterbox.

“I gotta admit,” Deadpool continued, leaning in close with an exaggerated whisper, his mouth touching your ear. “I’m kinda into this whole ‘I don’t give a crap if Deadpool kills me’ vibe you’ve got going on. It’s refreshing. It’s… kinda hot.”

You raised an eyebrow, your expression betraying a hint of amusement. What is he even saying?

“Are we gonna do this or what?” you asked, your voice flat.

Deadpool stepped back, putting a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Wow, straight to the point! I like it. No foreplay, just bam, let’s get this show on the road. Alright, let’s see if I can make you squeal.”

“Good luck with that,” you replied dryly.

“Okay, tough guy,” Deadpool muttered, starting to circle you with exaggerated steps. “You know, most people are all ‘Oh no, Deadpool, please don’t hurt me! I have a family!’” He gave a side eye (somehow?) through the mask. Or they’ll say ‘No, I haven’t closed my tabs and my web browser history isn’t deleted!’ But you, you’re just sitting there like you’re waiting for your Uber Eats.”

“I did order some food before I got kidnapped,” you replied. “It might be waiting outside.”

Deadpool paused, tilting his head. “What did you get?”

“Chimichangas,” you said with a faint hunger in your eyes.

Deadpool’s eyes widened behind his mask. “You’re serious?”

“Yep. Thought I’d try them out.”

Deadpool’s posture relaxed, and he leaned against the back of your chair. Putting his arm on top of your head like you’ve been childhood best friends. “You know, I like you. You’ve got style. Most people don’t appreciate a good chimichanga.”

He said, as if he wasn’t trying to kill you two minutes prior.

“Are we going somewhere with this?” you asked, your tone still indifferent. You brought this question up a second time. Was he still trying to kill you?

“Right, right, getting sidetracked,” Deadpool said, snapping back to the task at hand. “So, here’s the deal: I’m gonna try and scare the crap out of you, and you’re gonna react like a normal human being. Got it?”

“Sure,” you agreed, not sounding convinced.

“Alright!” Deadpool clapped his hands together. “Let’s start with something simple. How about… I cut off a finger?”

You held up your hand, which was still loosely tied. “You gonna untie me first, or do I do it myself?”

Deadpool rolled his eyes. “You’re really killing the vibe here, you know that?”

You shrugged again. “Look, man, it’s been a long week. Just get on with it.”

Deadpool sighed dramatically. “Okay, okay. Plan B.” He suddenly leaned in close, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. “We are going to start an only fans.”

You looked at him, deadpan. “Seriously? No one is going to pay for that shit.”

“Hey, people totally dig the whole “I got kidnapped by a hot anti-hero and now I’m slowly falling for them.” Deadpool retorted, pointing at the screen, hoping whoever reading this did not have a watt pad phase.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered.

“You’re right,” Deadpool said, standing up straight and tossing the a coin aside. “You know what? You’re impossible to scare. So, I’m gonna make you wish you’d never crossed paths with me.”

Without warning, he drew one of his katanas and sliced a shallow cut across your cheek. The cold steel was sharp, precise, and for the first time, you felt a sting of pain.

The burn of cut flesh.

“Finally,” you muttered, almost relieved.

Deadpool noticed the change in your eyes—the hint of happiness, the glimmer of anticipation. He smirked under his mask, raising the blade as if to deliver the final blow.

You closed your eyes, ready to embrace the end. But then, nothing.

You opened your eyes to find Deadpool standing there, the blade poised but unmoving. He tilted his head, studying your reaction.

“Aw, were you actually looking forward to that?” Deadpool asked, his tone mockingly sweet.

Your expression darkened, and anger flared in your eyes. “You…”

Deadpool sheathed his katana, chuckling. “Gotcha. ❤︎ Think I’m going to let you die? Nah, you’re my new piss boy!”

“You are such an ass,” you snapped, genuinely pissed off now.

Deadpool laughed heartily, clearly enjoying your frustration. “Finally! A reaction! See? I knew you had it in you.”

He ruffled your disheveled hair. “Who’s a good boy?”

You glared at him, what a loser. “Actually fucking kill yourself.”

“Not today,” Deadpool said, still chuckling. He untied your ropes with a flourish. “Let’s go get those chimichangas.”

As the two of you headed out of the warehouse, you couldn’t help but shake your head at the absurdity of it all. Were you getting kidnapped again? Did it count if you voluntarily? Would Deadpool ever shut up and just kill you?

“So,” Deadpool said, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “How’s your spice tolerance?”

“Depends,” you replied. “Are you paying?”

“You wish.” Deadpool chuckled.

Bitch.

a/n: Lowkey kinda cringed. But eh. Can’t wait for the deadpool and wolverine movie to come out so I can write for the two of them. (making out) feel free to request :)

me: lookism art is amazing. The facial expressions are just so realistic and relatable tbh.

lookism art:

OH GOD PLEASE DRAW WEATHER REPORT MY BELOBED 🙏🙏🙏 i THINK HE AND CORAZON WOULD BE BESTIES IDK I LOV THEM BOTH 🙏🙏🙏🙏

Ofccccc :) take this quick sketch^^

old ass jjba fanart. yuck. Anyways, time to draw some new ones of sillies

Snort snort I’m sorry mutuals (not rlly tbh)

Today, the waiter is very fucking single.

Gn!Reader x Gojo

Summary: Gojo wants your number.

It was the café’s annual dress to impress day—a chance to attract more customers and earn generous tips. For you, it meant donning a sleek suit and stepping up your game. Maybe some gel on your hair and jewelry on your wrists too.

Though you had a feeling you would end being bothered by a certain chatty blue eyed man.

He always came in to just to linger.

He strolled in with his usual confidence, his sharp eyes scanning the room until they settled on you. He grinned, approaching your counter with a playful swagger. You noticed the light skip in his steps.

“Well, well, well,” Gojo greeted, pushing his black shades down. “Look at you, all dressed up. Trying to steal the show?”

“Just trying to make a couple more tips.” you replied casually, though his presence made your heart skip a beat. (Not like you’d tell him.)

“Ah, but you could be much more comfortable if you let me take you out sometime,” he suggested smoothly, flashing his trademark grin.

You chuckled, amused by his persistence. “And what makes you think I’d say yes?”

“Because I’m simply amazing,” he teased, leaning closer. “And I always get what I want.”

Before you could respond, a customer—a well-dressed man with an air of confidence—approached your counter, a friendly smile on his face.

“Excuse me,” the man began, directing his attention to you. “I couldn’t help but notice how stunning you look in that suit. Can I buy you a drink sometime?”

You glanced at Gojo, who watched the exchange with a neutral expression that belied the sharp edge of disagreement simmering beneath the surface. The man’s casual flirtation didn’t go unnoticed by either of you, though you remained oblivious to Gojo’s reaction.

Flustered by the unexpected attention, you politely declined the man’s offer, focusing on taking his order with practiced professionalism. Gojo seemed to bore his eyes into the poor man’s soul. Sensing the sudden tension, the man quickly excused himself and retreated to his table, leaving you and Gojo in a charged silence.

Once the man was out of earshot, Gojo cleared his throat, his gaze lingering on you with a newfound intensity.

“Looks like you’ve got admirers lining up today,” he remarked lightly, though there was a tightness in his tone.

You raised an eyebrow, sensing a shift in his demeanor. “Yeah, it happens. Jealous?”

“Jealousy? Please,” he scoffed, though his jaw tensed imperceptibly. “Just an observation.”

Despite his dismissive tone, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. His eyes were as scary as they are gorgeous.

Hauntingly beautiful, perhaps.

“Well, in any case. We just got some macaroons finished in the back. Want some?” you asked, pouring him another cup of coffee.

Gojo’s lips went into a small pout, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Yes.”

As you returned with the plate of colorful macaroons, Gojo’s eyes lit up with a mixture of amusement and gratitude. He picked one up delicately, inspecting it with exaggerated interest before taking a bite.

“These are almost as sweet as you,” he remarked with a feral grin, his charm fully restored.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Smooth, Gojo. But save your lines for someone who’s not immune to your charm.”

Gojo chuckled, leaning back against the counter with casual confidence. “Oh, but you know you love it.”

You scoffed, feigning offense. “Keep dreaming, Gojo.”

The silence that followed was comfortable. As Gojo finished the last macaroon, he stood up, adjusting his sunglasses with a smirk.

“Well, as much as I’d love to stay and chat, duty calls,” he said, flashing you a wink.

“Sure, sure,” you replied nonchalantly, though your heart raced with anticipation. As he turned to leave, you took a spontaneous leap of courage, rushing after him with a slip of paper in hand.

You ignored your coworkers cries of betrayal and left the poor other customers alone to wait.

“Hey, Gojo!” you called out, catching his attention just before he reached the door. Wiping your sweaty palms on your pants.

He turned back, raising an eyebrow curiously. “What’s up?”

You held out the slip of paper, your number scrawled hastily across it. “Here. You asked.”

Gojo took the slip with a teasing grin, starting to squint at your handwriting. “Wow, your handwriting is so shitty I can’t even read it.”

“Fuck off.”

He chuckled softly, tucking the slip into his pocket with a nod of appreciation. “Alright, I’ll text you.”

A small scowl painted your face. “You better.”