Hsr Oneshot - Tumblr Posts
His sullen eyes raked down your physique, but his expression solid — Stoic, like he had no feelings for you. However, the man kept it buried inside his heart and vowed he would never let his appearance falter… No matter what.
Why? Why does he choose to do this? Why does he want to pursue such agony, deceit. Love, lust, admiration, sorrow… These agonizing emotions brewed within him, like a kettle of boiling water, waiting to bubble up and cry out loud for you to notice.
But, he remains quiet and still. The raging water within him contrasted to his desire to claim you— To love you, wholeheartedly and openly. But, he keeps still. For no how long he wants to shelter you in his protective arms, his caring gaze. He remains still.
For as long as you are safe and not in the lingering eyes of harm, he will keep his word to not dare say a word. He remains still.
— Blade, Sukuna, MEGUMI, Zhongli, Yuta, AKAASHI, SEMI, Aone, GOJO, and whoever you think <3
BATTLE OF WITS.
summary — sampo loves to rile people up, no matter who it is and what rank you are. but, once you step into his life, could he still keep up his uncaring demeanor?
genre — comedic fluff
Sampo is an easy guy, albeit, a con-artist but a real hunk of work. If something doesn’t catch his eye within a second or stimulate his brain for more than a minute… You can say bye-bye to trying to talk to him.
Majority of people view the picture on the vacation postcard of “not-giving-a-shit” and fall in love with the idea — swimming through the clear blue waters in this mental Mediterranean sea can be more deceiving than many think. It’s a one-way ticket to losing the most important skill in life, to feel concern. He for one, couldn’t care in the slightest. It all goes to show as to why he took up the very interesting and controversial means of work in the first place.
But once he stumbled across a person completely opposite to him, he couldn’t help but feel even more irritated. Of course, it was you, with your logical and reasonable thoughts and actions. Your morals were way higher on the scale than his, and he definitely could assume your IQ and EQ followed suit. He never felt so ridiculed and threatened by your demeanour because of this aura of “coolness” and “rationality.” That was the issue, he was always the smart one— or the lack thereof. If both your brains jostled within the ring, his would be pummelled to smithereens.
He wanted to brush off this problem as per usual, forcing himself to play the “unbothered” role because his ego couldn’t handle it anymore (ahh yes, the “be the bigger person” card.) But if this were a choice between mind over matter, the latter would reign dominant. He needs to showcase his true skills, it was his only “skill” anyway.
“Hey,” Sampo called out to you while you fumbled through your satchel. You gave him a quick eyebrow raise in response.
“What’s seven times eight?” he blurted out, standing directly in front with his arms crossed over his puffed chest. Yeesh.
You, on the other hand, gave him an indescribable expression that probably amounted to confusion, irritation, and most likely concern. “What?”
“C’moonn… I don’t have all day!”
Rolling your eyes, you continued to fish out some papers from your bookbag and grumbled the answer. “Fifty-six.”
“— Riddle me this. Imagine you’re in a tough situation where your pal is crying over their partner who was absolutely shit to them. Do you, A, comfort them, B, make fun of them, or C… Listen and give advice.”
Now it was completely indescribable about what you’re feeling or thinking. You slowly looked up to meet his eyes with a blank stare. You were judging him hard.
“… A with a mix of C.”
“No, only one answer!” he protested, wagging his finger in the air.
“Then A.”
He dropped his hand and returned to the same arm-crossed position. “This isn’t fun.”
“You think you’re not having fun? This feels like an interrogation, Sampo,” you playfully snapped, closing your book bag. “The fuck was that about?”
A mere shrug was all he responded with. “Just wanted to… Figure some things out,” he vaguely responded, to which, prompted your irritation even more.
“Sampo—“
“Okay, okay! Just heard from a little bird that you’ve got a head on your shoulders,” he replied in defence. “Wanted to see if it was true or not.”
“Of course I have a head on my shoulders,” you reiterated, shaking your head in disbelief. “What? You mean like, smarter?”
Sampo nodded his head. “Precisely.”
His answer made you immediately chuckle, letting out a breathy laugh. “Shouldn’t this little questionnaire prove the point? Such dumb questions.”
“Hey! They made you think though!” he argued. “Putting you on the spot and such.”
“… Easy questions like that won’t put anyone on the spot.”
Sampo inched even closer as he let out a prideful scoff, flipping his floppy bangs back with calloused fingers. “Fine. I’ll prepare something harder then—“
“Nope,” you interrupted.
“One thing’s for certain, you are one hell of a party pooper,” he stated dejectedly, rolling his eyes as he straightened his posture. “Natasha mentioned you were smart n’ all, but how is that any good if that pretty little head of yours is full of brash comments and half-assed sarcasm.”
“Since when were you and Natasha friends?” you deadpanned, the same sarcastic tone dripping from your lips.
“We always were! Hey! Don’t give me that face!” Sampo responded but as soon as he was speaking, your figure was slowly walking away from him. You lazily waved a hand in the air without turning around.
You, 1. Sampo, 0. Try harder next time, big guy.