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spicysoftsweet · 4 years

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He Wasn’t Man Enough - Hisoka x Reader

A/N: This is me being dramatic after a convo with @hisokapegger. I just wrote it off the cuff so hopefully it’s fine ahahahaha. Tl;dr You run into your ex Hisoka at a grocery store, of all places.

TWs: pregnancy, abortion

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Today was one of the rare days where you were truly happy.

You’d woken up this morning with an atypical surge of energy, much more so than you had in the past few months after your third serial failed relationship. You couldn’t even say you were truly sad about the relationship failing, it was starting to be par for the course at this point. You attributed the slump you’d be in to something else - the feeling of being stagnant, wading in place that seemed to persist throughout the past year, maybe two.

You’d decided you would give dating a rest. After your bitter breakup after a long tumultuous relationship with the magician (and likely psychopath) Hisoka, it almost seemed like he had laid a curse on you to fail relationship after relationship thereafter. Maybe it was because you had grown so exhausted in trying to turn him into something he wasn’t - you couldn’t turn a whore into a husband, after all - but you’d given up hope, and now your patience had grown thin with anyone you decided to be with. You’d lost the ability to compromise having tried so hard to find a middle ground with Hisoka which really meant losing ground on everything you wanted. Now if anyone stepped out of line for a split second, you dropped them. You had to admit some of the reasons for which you’d dropped people were small, but you’d be damned if you let another person make a fool out of you for years on end.

There was something freeing about refusing to settle. Choosing not to give a single fuck gave you an insurmountable amount of power. And now with the surge of energy today, the fact that you’d done some of your best work at your job, and your creativity was at an all-time high, you felt unshakable.

Armed with that sense of self-worth, you parked your car into the lot of your neighborhood grocery store, planning to make a quick trip to replenish on milk, bread and eggs before you got home for the day. Humming quietly to yourself, you navigated the store throwing things idly into your hand-held shopping basket, hoping you would limit yourself to just a few things. You had a tendency to over-shop, especially when you were in a good mood.

You weaved past a young child crying about sugary breakfast cereal, making sure to smile politely at the distressed mother before heading over to the produce section. And that’s when you saw him.

Hisoka.

It had been years.

Isn’t it funny that after a breakup you spend weeks dreading meeting your ex in public places? That you then start to rehearse running into them, deciding either to ignore them or say something so curt and so peaceful that they regret ever leaving you? That you expect that the longer you’ve spent without seeing them, the less likely your heart was to stir when looking into a face that used to portray fondness towards you?

For a moment, you forgot why you had come here in the first place.

Ah yes, apples. Hisoka was holding a red apple in his hand, checking its ripeness, but then he looked up and his golden eyes connected with yours and you almost expected the mischievous glint ever present in his regard. But instead, he looked almost surprised to see you. Maybe even rattled. That was an uncommon emotion for him.

To be fair, it was a bit shocking to see Hisoka at a grocery store as well. He’d never be so responsible the years you had dated to buy a nourishing food item on his own. He even had a shopping cart with him, and it looked a bit too full for one.

Your mouth open and shut. You weren’t sure if you should speak or not. To ignore or to speak politely? After all, it had been so long. You couldn’t let him believe his existence still had any affect on you. What if he tried to get back into your pants?

You were still standing still, and Hisoka’s gaze was still focused on you, but the surprise and the softness in his eyes and the very small way in which his lips down-turned was starting to unsettle you. Even more unsettling was the way he was dressed, almost as though he aimed to blend in with the millions of other shoppers, his skin still pale but not the almost sickly white of his face makeup, no star or teardrop to be seen, and his red hair no longer flaming towards the sky but down and neat. He almost looked like a regular person.

Suddenly, you were starting to feel ridiculous, just standing there with a sheepish look on your face. You decided you would politely say your regards and then continue on your way.

But as you took a single step forward, a young, petite and obviously pretty woman, seemingly materializing out of nowhere, came to join him by the stack of apples. Her arm linked to his, her face bright and her eyes full of affection, and with smiling lips, she whispered something to him that was unintelligible to you at this distance.

Hisoka’s eyes were still on you, and when his obvious partner turned to follow his gaze, there was an ever so slight curve on her belly, and maybe you could have lied to yourself and said it wasn’t a baby bump, but the way she protectively placed her hand on her abdomen and held his hand said otherwise.

Who is that staring? You imagined she asked, but you couldn’t read her lips; you were too busy shattering.

You didn’t even feel your shopping basket drop to your feet, and didn’t hear the eggs breaking in the carton or the milk carton crashing and spurting a mess all over the floor, but instead turned on your heels and ran.

It was heaven’s mercy that you didn’t fall on the mess you made. You didn’t think you could tolerate looking more pitiful than you felt right now.

You ran to your car as thought it was a lifeline. There was a ticking time bomb inside of you, and you didn’t realize the tears were already falling.

It had been years.

Your fingers didn’t seem to work anymore, and you continued to fumble as you tried desperately to start your car and flee this cursed place.

It had been years.

This was an overreaction. People were allowed to move on. Now if only your hands would stop shaking enough so that you could stick your keys in the ignition and move on home yourself.

Instead, a dry sob came out of your throat, and you gave up, tossing the keys onto the passenger seat of your car.

You’d spent years trying to turn Hisoka into someone who would settle down with you. Someone who could be reliable. Someone who wouldn’t disappear the moment you needed him.

He had told you, quite frankly, if you ever got pregnant to abort it.

But yet you could tell, from the way she trusted him fully by the way she moved around him, from the simple fact that he was in a fucking grocery store buying fucking fruit and pushing around a cart with supplies for two that he meant to stay with her.

Most damning of all was the apologetic look in his eye when he looked at you.

He’d lied.

He said he’d never change. The truth was, he’d never change for you.

#hisoka #hisoka x reader #angst #sometimes it's not you #smh

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wilhelmjfink · 3 years

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Daryl Dixon Drabble #6 - Part 4 (Finale)

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST BRI GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER!!!

I absolutely despise how Tumblr formats these on mobile. If anybody knows how to fix this, let me know PLEASE

thnx for waiting

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You assumed it was around high noon when you woke up, judging by the thick layer of sweat that replaced your sleeping bag in hugging your entire body. It was now sprawled across the canvas floor, forgotten, and your hair clung to the skin of your forehead. And between the heat and the events of the prior night, you felt almost feverish and sick.

It was a nice surprise that nobody had disturbed you, though — and you silently hoped that theme continued throughout the remainder of the day as you begrudgingly emerged and reveled in the cool fresh air that greeted you on the outside of the sauna that was simply a tent in the Georgia summer heat. Judging by that sun... it was going to be another miserably hot day.

Before, you had never been one for swimming in any body of water that wasn’t a clean and chlorinated pool. Maybe it was the small part of you that had been spoiled, but ponds and creeks weren’t your favorite means of cooling off until you, quite literally, had no other choice; but you would always fondly reminisce of the in-ground swimming pool at your moms house growing up as you waded into the cloudy pond water. You were only ever there one week a month, so it was a damn luxury even then, and a far-fetched dream now.

The suns reflection shimmered on the water ripples you caused as you waded in and you sighed contently, actively trying to ignore the constant lingering scent of fish and mud and algae as you scrubbed your filthy fingernails against the soap bar in your hands, lathering it up enough so that, maybe after one or two rounds, your skin might begin to feel relatively clean again. Your now-soaked tank top clung to your skin — you think maybe it was white at one point, but decided not to question the faded stains that decorated it now.

Dunking beneath the surface you rubbed your fingertips vigorously against your scalp, silently wishing you hadn’t spent years taking advantage of all of the luxurious products and fancy soaps always at your disposal. Fuck — even a new, cheap 50¢ soap bar would be like gold right now compared to the slimy old bar in your hands. Your hair was dry and coarse, and admittedly you’d be mortified at the current condition of it if you had any time to worry about anything other than not starving or getting eaten alive. You scrubbed your eyes free of the murky water and stretched, content to take your time and daydream for the moment until you had to start your day. You’d been left alone, and figured it was intentional.

Good. You could get some shit done.

So you hadn’t expected to turn towards the shore and find Daryl standing there, frozen like a deer in headlights when your eyes met — yeah, modesty had gone out the door for you months ago, but you couldn’t fight the smile that crept up on your face when Daryl instantly whipped around and threw a hand up to shield his eyes as if he had really anticipated finding you pond bathing, what, fully clothed? What was he expecting to see?

“Shit,” he stammered, “uh, ‘m sorry, I just —“

“I do have some clothes on,” you replied as you fully emerged onto dry land and doubled over to pick up your dirty towel tossed carelessly into the grass. Even in the skew of the sunlight and shadows you could see the flush creep up his neck and cheeks and turn the tips of his ears pink. But you found yourself wanting to squash any sort of relief or joy you’d first experienced upon noticing him there when last nights fiasco began to run through your mind. You had no idea what he possibly wanted with you — was he going to chew you out again? The mere notion had your stomach twisting in knots as you rung out your soaking wet hair and cast your eyes back down to the ground and away from his own piercing gaze that had returned upon hearing you weren’t completely nude.

“I thought.. I thought you were doin’ laundry,” he explained, again turning away as he spoke, quickly and sheepishly. Like a child caught red-handed, he was always fleeting and nervous and ready to escape. “Nevermind, ‘m sorry, I’ll — “

You didn’t allow him to finish because, when you saw him start to take a step forward and leave, you lunged your hand on to his shoulder. Where the sudden balls came from, you had no fucking idea. Daryl was the one notorious for his bravery when everyone else needed the strength, but situations like this? He would turn tail and run away at the very first opportunity you even hinted at that might give him some sort of escape. But the way you saw it, he had obviously sought you out for a reason; and the way that things had ended last night left a bad taste in your mouth that you, whether you admitted it to yourself or not, we’re desperate to alleviate.

“Stop.” It was a bit more forceful than you’d intended but you were so positive that he would break into a sprint just to get away from you at that moment that you didn’t try to soften it. To your surprise, he stiffened, but nonetheless halted in his tracks. “Do you need something?”

Almost as if to prove to you that you knew nothing about him the way you thought you did, he spun toward you abruptly: “M’sorry — for last night.”

The apology took you by surprise in the best way, uncoiling the anxiety that had slowly begin to twist around in your gut. He had a way of keeping you on your fucking toes, it sure seemed. Quite literally speechless, he’d blindsided you, and you shook your head to clear the swarm of thoughts and prioritize your next words knowing that you didn’t have a lot of time to voice them before he would inevitably shut you out again or take off running. “Wait,” you tried, feeling him start to pull away at your lack of an immediate response; you could see the uneasiness etched in his features and even feel it in his stance. “Wait —“

But he cut you off, just like he did when he was chewing you out back in the woods the night before. This time, however, was far different, and you couldn’t quite decide what exactly had changed.

“Jus’ listen to me for a second, alright?”

He was breathing heavily and rapidly through his nose — not from overexhetion, but in an unreliable attempt to keep his voice steady and confident. You nodded in response.

The tensity in his body, the stiffness in his muscles, it was tangible — his legs were actively trying so hard to move him away from the situation, to let him pace like the caged animal he always reminded you of, desperate to run and hide. He wanted so desperately to speak, but seemed unable to form the words.

“I didn’t... I never meant to...”

Seeing him so vulnerable and helpless, it absolutely broke your heart as you stood there watching. Waiting. Waiting for some other words to come to you because the ones that you kept drumming up inside your head just weren’t good enough to fall on his ears.

Shoulders slumping in defeat, Daryl’s head dropped, and he choked out a sob.

You felt strangled. The breath was knocked from your lungs at the sound. The guilt that followed was crippling and seized your entire body within its white-knuckled grip, but was almost instantly overshadowed with fear; fear and regret and shame and you thought you might be sick with the overwhelming emotions before you just decided to throw your arms around his broad shoulders, standing on your tiptoes, pressing your still damp body so close to his that maybe you could meld the two of your souls together.

“I’m sorry, Daryl.” Face pressed into his chest, your words were muffled and wavered unsteadily as you struggled yourself not to break down. “I never shoulda said what I said. It was fucked up, but it was a lie. I swear I didn’t mean it, I just wanted to piss you off.”

“That don’t make it okay to hurt you!”

Admittedly, you faltered at his reasoning, but your mouth kept rolling on autopilot because you knew how Daryl would take to your silence as a reply. “No, but —“

“No, it ain’t ever okay to do what I did.”

He shook you off with a violent shrug of his shoulders, your arms falling limply to your sides.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you,” you offered, not surprised when he shook his head in response and gestured wildly with his hands on either side of your head, hands clenched in fists, almost as if he was fighting some internal battle and, by the looks of it, losing miserably.

“Ya don’t get it, Y/N!” He spun on his his heels, abruptly turning away from you and replacing that distance between the two of you that you were growing to detest. “Ya don’t get it. Ya were right.”

You raised your eyebrows at him though you weren’t sure if it mattered with how he faced away from you, and you weren’t sure if you could just see his own features particularly well today or if it’d come from hours of staring at him, watching him, studying him while you simply tried to figure him the fuck out.

“I dunno why, but ya get me so.... fuckin’ mad sometimes. It’s like, ya know how to get right under my fuckin’ skin.” His voice was low now, rough with exhaustion and the scent of lingering alcohol. And while you could feel your heart drop at his admission, you had to fight the sense of pride and joy you were feeling that he even fucking admitted it.

This is what you’d been working so hard to get from him; it’s also exactly what got him so mad in the first place, and therefore the mess you were currently in that ensued. Whether or not the alcohol coursing through both your systems had anything to do with it didn’t matter to you anymore.

“When ya said that, it just...I dunno. I didn’t wanna fuckin’ believe it,” he ran an exasperated hand down his face before turning away from you, fueling your unconscious need to step forward after him again, softly, like you were trying to catch a wild animal, fearing that he would turn and break away from you at any second. “But what I did — Merle woulda done the same damn thing! He woulda done it without a second fuckin’ thought!”

His hands raked through his hair, distressed and frantic, and you reached out to grasp his wrists and steady him, your hands comically small next to his, strong and secure and familiar. At first, he flinched; tugging away from you half-heartedly before giving up and allowing you to gingerly lower his hands down in front of him, in between you, where they remained trapped in your grip.

“That’s exactly what I mean, Daryl,” you said softly, choosing your words carefully as if any wrong one would scare him off and send him fleeing again. As firmly as you held his wrists before you, one foot remained turned as you anticipated him doing just that. And the fear of watching him run again had, at some point, outweighed the fleeting fear that Daryl might actually want to hurt you — and you felt disgusted in yourself when you realized it. “You aren’t like Merle. You’re so much better.”

It was almost worth celebrating when he didn’t reply, and instead remained still as a statue, towering over you in the blazing mid-afternoon sun. The same type of heat, you thought, that burned inside of his very being; one that he’d spent so many shadowed years trying to extinguish. Thinking it was wrong. Thinking it was weak to simply care about somebody. All because of one single person.

You hated Merle Dixon, and if you ever saw him again, you swore you’d make sure he’d hate you just as much.

“You said Merle would’ve done that without a second thought — but you? Look at yourself, Daryl. You obviously feel so bad, so... guilty. Otherwise you wouldn’t be standing here. Do you think Merle ever felt this way about anything he’d ever done before? Do you think he ever apologized to anyone?”

Once again, his silence was reassuring. He was listening, considering your words... you only hoped that you wouldn’t say the wrong thing this time.

“The fact that you have so much remorse just shows that you are nothing like your brother. You are so, so much better. You are worlds away from ever being anything like him, Daryl.”

You could almost hear the gears turning behind his ocean blue eyes as he took in your words, deep and powerful though they were short. You couldn’t deny you were just content that he had stopped his angry outburst although now it was clear he was far more mad at himself instead of you.

“And I... I’m so sorry for the things that I said. I hope you can forgive me. I was drunk and angry. But I want you to know that... you can trust me. And I’m here for you.”

Now, you could almost feel his stare boring through you, the intensity behind his eyes unable to be ignored as it rose the hairs on the back of your neck and sparked goosebumps that trickled down your spine with a shiver you tried to stifle.

Now what? Daryl was unpredictable. Especially when it came to raw emotions like this, you thought to yourself. Can you stop him from turning tail and running, should that be his next move? Did he believe anything you were saying?

With one swift motion, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you, warm and familiar, quick enough as to not be able to stop himself from doing so once he decided it was what he wanted to do, it seemed.

Though it was forceful, it was good. It was much more natural than the last time he’d moved that quickly toward you, you recalled. Much better actually, you realized, as you silently acknowledged that, this time, you sure as fuck didn’t flinch away and instead, hugged him back.

You looked down at the ground, sighing contently — oh. Despite your minimal clothing and every excuse to be totally naked in the cool water of your pond bath, your boots were still strapped on tight. You know... just in case.

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #twd #daryl dixon drabble #the walking dead drabbles #twd imagine #twd drabble #the walking dead imagine

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