do ya trust him

23.

For the angel that is @jodiereedus22 ❤️❤️

The prison had been a beacon of hope to your group, and you’d all settled in well after the farm had burnt to the ground. You and Daryl shared a cell and you couldn’t be happier with how he was finally opening up to you. Your group had come across a town called Woodbury and their leader ‘the governor’, who wasn’t the nicest person in the world. Daryl had found his brother who he hadn’t seen since the beginning and was torn as to whether to go with him or stay with the group. You’d argued countless times about the pros and cons of each situation, not made any easier by Merle sticking his nose in your business.
“Come with us,” Daryl said one day, after a particularly bad row.
“And trust your brother with my life? I don’t think so,” you snapped, “how are you two even related?”
“Ya trust me don’t ya?”
“Of course I do. But it’s completely different to trusting him as well.”
“Please, I don’t wanna leave ya,” he begs.
“If you loved me at all then you wouldn’t!” You shout, walking out of the cell. When you get back he’s gone. You go and see Carol, she hasn’t seen him, then to Rick, he hasn’t seen him either. Glenn comes up to you and sits you down.
“(Y/N), I’m sorry, I saw Daryl leaving with Merle early this morning when I was on watch,” he says softly, “I’m so sorry.” You look at him and start to cry, he holds you and after a few minutes you suddenly run off to be on your own. Sitting by the fence, you stare at the walkers snarling and reaching for you. With the way you’re feeling right now, you want to walk into a group of them and become one. You walk right up to the fence, almost so that they can reach you. Rick watches you from the prison through binoculars and silently worries.
Over the next week, you withdraw yourself even more. Daryl hasn’t come back yet and it feels as though half of your heart is missing too. You do your chores, then disappear into the cell you used to share with him. Some of his things are still there, his smell still on the sheets. Every night you cry into his pillow, sobbing hard, your body shaking as tears stream down your face. Rick needs you on top form now that the governor is threatening to attack, so he puts you on watch on top of one of the buses for the night, to make you feel part of the group again.
Unbeknownst to you, Daryl’s returned and is helping Rick with the fences before coming to see you on watch.
“D'ya think she’ll be mad?” Daryl asks Rick as he looks over at the bus, the sun setting and illuminating your face.
“Oh yeah, really mad. But she loves you Daryl. It’ll take a long time for her to come round, you left without saying goodbye. She cries every night, I don’t think she knows we can hear,” Rick explains sadly.
“I should never have left,” Daryl bows his head as the words leave his mouth.
You look over to Rick and see someone’s with him helping with the fences. Suddenly a truck catches your eye in the distance, but as you go to signal a bullet goes straight through your shoulder, knocking you off the top of the bus and falling to the ground. Daryl sees you fall after being shot and looks to where it came from, spotting the truck as well.
“Rick! (Y/N)’s been shot! QUICK!” He shouts, running up the hill. As he gets halfway up, the truck comes belting through the gates by the bus you were on and walkers start spilling out of it. Daryl picks up speed as he knows you’re there somewhere.
“You get (Y/N), we’ll sort the dead,” Rick yells as he runs along side him and sees your group coming out of the prison to help after hearing the loud noise. Daryl gets to you just as walkers we’re closing in. He stabs the closest few and quickly slings you over his shoulder, running back inside the prison with you. Herschel is inside, unable to help with the hoard outside, but ready to assist anyone with medical attention. Daryl runs in and carefully places you down on the table in front of Herschel. He looks Daryl up and down, surprised that he’s back, then looks down to you, unconscious and with a bullet wound.
“Daryl! What happened?” Herschel asks, limping over to you.
“She… she got shot, fell off the top of the bus. Walkers… almost got her,” he stuttered.
“Get my kit from over there would you?” He asks as Daryl starts pacing. He grabs the kit and hands it over the Herschel, who sets it down next to you, then gets out some large tweezers. He digs the bullet out, cleans the wound and stitches you up, bandaging over it.
“Is she gonna be ok?” Daryl asks, biting his thumb.
“She’s lost some blood, but not too much. She’ll have a large bump on her head, but should wake up soon. We need to keep an eye on her incase she has concussion,” Herschel explains, “now I’ve got a couple of other people I need to see. Are you okay to stay with her?”
“Yeah, 'course,” Daryl mumbles, sitting down next to you. You start crying whilst asleep and Daryl wipes your tears away. This continues for the next couple of days as you lay there out cold. On day two as Daryl sleeps next to you holding your hand, you wake up with a scream as a nightmare pulls you out of unconsciousness. You lay there panting with fear, sweat dripping down your forehead, when you see Daryl’s face pop up into view, his hand going immediately to your cheek.
“(Y/N)! What’s wrong? Are ya okay?” He asks, eyes wide with shock.
“I’m… fine… is this real?” You answer between deep breaths.
“Yeah, it’s real. I’m back. Ya fell off the top of the bus when ya got shot, I saw it happen,” he rambles.
“You… you were the one with Rick.”
“I was helping him with the fences when it happened.” You went to sit up and get away from him, still affected by him leaving, but he stopped you.
“Herschel needs to check ya over before ya get up,” he says, gently laying you back down. You frown at him and say nothing as he walks off to find Herschel.
“Well hello there (Y/N), lets take a look at your head,” Herschel says, opening your eyes wide and looking into them with a light. He then moves his finger about in front of your face, your eyes following it. He asks you a few questions and then steps back and checks your dressing, making sure you hadn’t bled through.
“Okay, you seem good to go. You’re a lucky woman (Y/N), if Daryl hadn’t been there, you’d be walker bait. Take it easy, not to much bending down, and make sure you see me about your dressing everyday,” he explains.
“Thanks Herschel,” you smile.
“Don’t thank me, thank Daryl,” he chuckles, then exits to check on the wounded who helped clear the walkers. You sit up on the edge of the table, facing away from Daryl, then head up to your cell. Daryl follows, but you ignore his footsteps behind you as you enter the small room and sit on the bed looking down at the floor.
“(Y/N), I’m so sorry I left,” he starts, standing in the doorway, “I was stupid-”
“Yeah you were stupid. And heartless, and cold, and you broke my fucking heart Daryl,” you begin to sob, your shoulders shaking, then you wince in pain.
“I didn’t mean to. I love ya,” he sighs, now kneeling in front of you, between your legs and holding your thighs.
“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have left in the first place,” you cry, “leave me alone.”
“I ain’t going anywhere,” he says defiantly, “I’m staying here with ya, I know yer angry at me, but I love ya and I ain’t leaving.” You huff at his statement and lay down on the bed facing the wall. He lays down behind you and wraps an arm around your waist, then leans his head up by your ear.
“I’ve missed ya,” he whispers, hand squeezing your hip. You turn to face him and look up into his eyes.
“I can’t just forgive you that easily Daryl, you really hurt me going off without saying a word,” you say sternly.
“I know, and I’m sorry, I wish I’d never done it. I regretted it as soon as I stepped out of the fences.”
“Why didn’t you come back?”
“It’s a long story, but I’m here now, and I promise ya I’ll never leave ya again,” he says softly, nudging his nose against yours.
“Pinky promise?” You ask, lifting your hand and sticking out your little finger. Daryl smiles and does the same, linking it with yours and shaking it.
“I pinky promise,” he repeats. He puts his arm around you and pulls you into his chest.
“Ouch,” you wince, “I did get shot y'know.”
“Sorry baby,” he says, looking concerned, making sure no blood is leaking out onto your dressing. You settle into a comfortable position and fall into a deep sleep for once without crying. Daryl holds onto your all night, his grip only loosening when he drifts off as well. The next morning you wake to find him looking down at you, his hand tucking a small piece of your hair behind your ear.
“Morning,” he croaks in his deep southern voice.
“Morning,” you smile. Daryl sits up a little and pulls you further onto his now bare chest, your head up on his shoulder. You kiss his neck and his chest, running your hand along the scattering of hair on his torso, lightly dragging your nails across his skin as you go. He strokes your arm, sliding his way down to your hip and over your bottom, giving it a light squeeze.
“I jus’ wanna lay here all day,” Daryl admits.
“Then we will,” you reply, kissing his chest again. He smiles down at you and kisses your head, squeezing your bum a little harder as he does so.

@reedusteinrambles
@blondielovesr5-blog

anonymous asked:

The instant reunion sex theme in so many fics is bothering me... like in the anime and manga they got like a maximum of three kisses in while they were living together 24/7 they ain't exactly the fastest movers. And nezumi freaks out whenever anyone actually manages to touch him with him noticing and even with a few years before reunion I doubt he'd instantly be over that... plus there would be the whole redeveloping the trust they had in each other before... (cont.)

Cont.)I don’t get it. For a series that takes things so slowly and allows them to develop why are like … 80% of the fics like “ so we saw each other again and miraculously I trusted him instantly with my penis” Anyway… do ya have some decent fix recs maybe?

i want to print this out and put it on my grave seriously Like For Real you nailed it (clapping emoji) like honestly reunion sex is so unrealistic and then there are the fics where they fuck in westblock thats a whole nother level man

Imagine Edward Kenway telling you "I love you" instead of "Happy Birthday"

Originally posted by strategichomelanddivision

It wasn’t even noon, and Edward Kenway was running from the British guards.

It’s not like he meant to get into trouble. It was just that Y/N had her eye on a very particular, and very expensive, necklace; a necklace he could not afford, but would get her anyway. And he did get it, only he got spotted taking it.
“Blast it, boys, get that thief!” A scout shouted from behind him, leading the pack of guards, all in bright red coats. Edward sprinted towards a lift, and, using his hidden blade, cut the rope and shot up until he was on top of the tile-roof house. Glancing down for a moment to check that his pursuers could not follow, he took off toward the harbor, where the Jackdaw sat. But he wasn’t trying to reach the Jackdaw. He wanted to give Y/N the necklace. It was her birthday, and Edward would not let her think he had forgotten like he had last year.

The sounds of the guards yelling at him grew quieter until he could no longer hear them over the sound of his feet hitting the tiles. Nearly there, He thought, I hope Y/N hasn’t wandered off.
He would have never put such effort into getting any other person such a gift- except maybe Adéwale, but he probably wouldn’t ask for anything expensive. Maybe a drink.

But you were special. You were different. You were Y/N.
And he loved that. He loved you.

Not that he would openly admit it. No no, an assassin, no, a pirate admitting he had feelings deeper than lust for someone like you? That would be insane! Yet here he was, running from the law, for you.


You, on the other hand, were relaxing on the beach near the docks. In one hand, you held an unopened bottle of rum (You would thank Anne once you saw her again) in the other, a pistol (You had already thanked Ed). You were waiting for a certain blond pirate to uncork the rum, and you were killing time by idly fiddling around with the pistol. You hadn’t seen head nor tail of him all day. You knew he was somewhere nearby- Kingston wasn’t all that big- but you were beginning to think he was in a bush somewhere trying to get over a hangover (Wouldn’t be the first time!) or worse, dallying around with a prostitute (Wouldn’t be the first time for that either).

“What’s got you looking so glum? I thought it was your birthday!”
Ed plopped down next to you, his own bottle of rum open and half gone. You smiled a bit, “Just waiting. Don’t want to get drunk before noon, you know.”
“Why not?!” Ed asked loudly, “I’ve done it plenty of times!”
“I know, but… I was hoping Edward would… I don’t know… Be here?” You tried to explain your dilemma without giving away that you secretly loved being with Edward and wanted to spend the day with him. Ed chuckled heartily, “Ah, I see! Waitin’ on ol’ captain Kenway so you can both get drunk together, yeah?” He patted you roughly on the back, “Good on ya! Get him drunk enough and he’ll do anything. Trust me when I say ‘anything’. That is, if you can keep him conscious long enough.”
“Ed! I wasn’t… That wasn’t my…”
“No need to be prudish, lass. We’re pirates!”
You laughed a little, “That we are. Or lunatics.”
“Why not both?” Ed suggested, taking a big gulp of rum before standing up and tottering away.

You shook your head with a smirk. Ed Thatch, the notorious Blackbeard, had quite the knack for taking your mind off certain things, Edward being one of them. Shortly after he left however, your mind drifted back to Kenway. “I hope he hasn’t forgotten again…” You mumbled with a sigh.

The sound of feet on sand and panting made you turn around. Edward Kenway was jogging towards you, nearly out of breath. Why was he out of breath? He came to a halt a few feet from you, sweat running down his face. It certainly was not what you expected to see so early in the day. “Hello Kenway,” you greeted, “Where were you?”
Catching his breath, Edward reached into a pocket and pulled out a small box. You stared at it curiously. He handed it to you, his hand shaking a bit. You set down the rum and pistol, “For me?” You asked, your eyebrows raised a bit in surprise. “Aye,” He nodded, no longer panting, “Open it.”

Gingerly opening the box, you gasped when the light glinted off a beautiful necklace. The one you had mentioned looked nice a week or two ago. He had remembered? You held the necklace in your other hand. “Wow… It’s beautiful, Edward. How did you manage to buy it?”
“Right, well… About that.” He seemed like he was about to elaborate, but then he shook his head, “Nevermind that, it’s not important.”
You turned back to the gift, “Why did you get such an expensive gift for me? I love it, but it must have cost you.”

“Because I love you.”

You nearly dropped the jewels. Did he really just say…? You felt your face get hot. Did the sun just come out…?

“I… I mean… Because it’s your birthday.” Edward quickly- and awkwardly- tried to cover his slip-up. You stood up and proceeded to hug him, tightly. “I love you too, Edward.” You nearly whispered. You felt him tense up, like he had no clue what to do, but then he wrapped his arms around you. “Couldn’t resist my charm, Hm?” He asked quietly, and you could practically feel his relieved smirk. You laughed softly, “Couldn’t resist mine either, Kenway?”
“Touché.”
A few moments of warm silence later, Edward piped up again, “You know Thatch and the rest are gonna make fun of us, right?”
“Ed suggested much worse than hugging.”
“Oh? Like?” He inquired with fake innocence.
You glanced at the rum bottle lying in the sand.
“How about we uncork that rum bottle and find out?”