Blind Date Masterlist 2

Blind Date Masterlist 2

Modern Thomas Shelby -

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Won’t You Be My Neighbor?

Part 18 (Final)

***!!!Mature sexual content. 18+ readers ONLY. Minors, DNI!!!***

Previous part here

…………………………………………………………………………….

“Mom! Have you seen my baseball glove? I can’t find it anywhere!”

Henry’s voice calling out sounded through the house from the back door, and Y/N made her way through the living room and into the kitchen as she answered him.

“It’s already in the car, kiddo,” she called back out to him, and then lowered her voice to a normal volume as she entered the kitchen and saw him standing in the back hallway. “Do you have everything else?”

“Yeah,” he replied with a nod.

“Where’s Max?” Y/N asked.

“He’s putting his bike away. I told him to grab the bats.”

“Ok, perfect,” Y/N replied with a nod of her own. She then turned to make for her car keys, but stopped when her phone suddenly began to ring, reaching in her back pocket.

“It’s Dad,” she then said to Henry as she held her phone in her free hand and looked down at the screen before then looking back up at him. “You and Max get the bats and everything else in the car and then we’ll go,” she said as she looked up at him again. “I’ll be right there.”

“Ok,” Henry replied with another enthusiastic nod. He grabbed her keys out of the dish on the table and then he turned and went back outside.

Looking down again, Y/N tapped the icon to answer the call and then lifted the phone to her ear.

“Hey,” she said with a smile.

“Hey, yourself,” came Emmett’s voice, obviously also smiling. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to pick up; I figured you guys would already be on your way to the game.”

“We’re just about to leave,” Y/N confirmed as she cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder and walked across the kitchen, using her free hand to open the refrigerator. “Are you there already?”

“No,” Emmett replied. “I’m leaving the shop now, but I wanted to call really quick. How’s Sadie doing?”

Smiling lovingly down at the baby on her hip as she reached into the fridge and retrieved the bottle of milk, Y/N replied as she closed the door and turned back around.

“She’s much better today. The doctor called and confirmed it’s just a minor ear infection and that she’ll continue to feel better each day, so nothing to worry about.”

“Good,” Emmett replied, feeling relieved as he made his way to his car and then opened the door. “Do you need me to stop at the store and pick anything up on my way? Did you get more diapers?”

“Oh, crap! I forgot to get some when we all went to the store earlier,” Y/N replied. “We got distracted in the cookie aisle.”

Emmett chuckled.

“I’ll pick some up on my way to the game,” he said.

“Thank you, Daddy,” Y/N replied then, pretending it was Sadie talking, and Emmett smiled.

“Sadie, did Mommy get the cookies?” he asked, playing along. “That’s the most important thing.”

“Yes, I got the cookies,” Y/N said in her own voice, smiling as she adjusted Sadie on her hip and looked at her. “But Daddy doesn’t get any, right?”

At that, Sadie made a cooing noise that sounded a lot like she was agreeing with Y/N, and she and Emmett both laughed as he heard it through the phone.

“She’s only six months old and you’re already turning her against me?” Emmett said jokingly. “Unbelievable.”

“Oh, relax,” Y/N replied with a smile. Then she lowered her voice slightly before continuing, even though the boys were outside and the baby couldn’t understand what she was saying. “Stop complaining, and I’ll give you your own very special cookie later on,” she said suggestively.

Emmett paused in the driver’s seat as he was about to shift the car into reverse.

“You shouldn’t talk that way around children,” he said, the lust in his voice still obvious even as he pretended to be stern.

“So, you don’t want a cookie, then?” Y/N responded with a giggle. “Sadie, Daddy doesn’t want a cookie.”

“Watch it, princess,” Emmett replied then. “You can’t use our daughter as a buffer for when you decide to get smart. You’ll still be in trouble.”

Giggling again, Y/N was about to reply, but then Henry called from the driveway.

“Mom! Come on! We’re gonna be late!”

“I’m coming!” she called after pulling back from the phone for a second. Then she spoke into the phone again as she turned back to the counter and grabbed the diaper bag.

​“I gotta go,” she said to Emmett as she carried Sadie towards the back door. “Just look for us when you get there. We’ll sit where we always sit.”

​“Ok, sounds good,” Emmett replied. “I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

​“I love you, too,” Y/N said warmly, then spoke for Sadie again. “Bye, Daddy.”

​“Bye, girls,” came Emmett’s reply, the smile never having left his face.

•.•.•.•.•

​“My God, she just gets more adorable every time I see her!”

​Y/N smiled as she passed Sadie over to Jackie, who she’d met up with upon getting to the baseball game. Now that Max was also playing this year, Jackie was handing down to them a bunch of her son’s older gear that was too small for him now.

​“I know,” Y/N said, still smiling. “It almost hurts to look at her. You know, she made this face today that was so stinking cute I almost died.”

​Jackie laughed and shook her head and she smiled down at Sadie, then looked back up at Y/N.

​“Well, believe me, those moments will only continue to happen, so just make sure you have plenty of memory on your phone for all the photos.”

​“I know. Emmett and I have already had to buy extra storage on our phones, like, five times, and she’s only six months old,” Y/N laughed. “And the boys are constantly stealing our phones to take even more pictures of themselves with her or record something. It’s so sweet.”

​“So, they’re still enjoying having a little sister?”

​“Oh, gosh, they are completely enamored! Talk about so sweet that it almost hurts. Henry is constantly checking on her and will hold her for hours at a time, and Max is always trying to make her laugh and gives her about a hundred kisses a day. They’re so good with her.”

​Jackie grinned again.

​“And what about Emmett?”

​At that, Y/N smiled even bigger, shaking her head.

​“I can’t even talk about that, or I’m seriously going to cry. Every day I think I’ve finally built up a tolerance to seeing him with her, and then something else happens that just makes me melt. He is wrapped around her finger.”

​Laughing, Jackie passed Sadie back to Y/N, Y/N replacing her on her hip and lovingly cradling the back of her head.

​“It seems like just yesterday you guys dating was the newest gossip around town. And now, so much has happened since then.” Jackie paused and then shook her head in disbelief. “Crazy how time flies, huh?”

​“I know, it’s hard believe, isn’t it?” said Y/N, shaking her head and smiling as she looked up.

​It was true – in just a year and a half, so much had changed.

While not easy to navigate by any means, the aftermath of Norah’s last departure hadn’t been nearly as bad as either Emmett or Y/N had expected. While the boys were disappointed and full of questions about her departure, they were actually most concerned about what was going to happen between Emmett and Y/N.

Both Max and Henry had sought repeated reassurance that although Norah was out of the picture, Y/N was still very much in it, and the relief Y/N would see on their faces each time she and Emmett assured them that she wasn’t going anywhere nearly broke her heart. Just when she thought she couldn’t love those boys any more than she already did, she was proven wrong when they both had voiced that they loved her, too. She promised them that she would always be there for them, and she knew the bond with them was as strong as it would be if they were her biological children.

Not wanting to make any other major changes too quickly, Emmett had planned to wait a bit longer to ask Y/N to marry him, but it was only a couple weeks after Norah had left that the boys had once again asked if he and Y/N were going to get married. With their repeated insistence that they wanted it to happen, Emmett had asked her shortly thereafter, and of course, she’d immediately said yes.

Deciding to forgo a big wedding, they’d planned a small but lovely ceremony with their closest friends and family, and since it wasn’t anything extremely over the top that took endless weeks of planning, they’d gotten married only two months after Emmett proposed. At first, Y/N was also concerned about making any changes too quickly, but after the boys had begun calling her “Mom” upon she and Emmett’s engagement, she knew everything was going to be alright. She also knew that that title was something she’d forever cherish, especially when Emmett told her that the boys had told him that they’d considered her their mom for a long time before that.

But the title of mother was once again on its way, although much sooner than expected. While they’d began trying for a baby right after they got married, both Y/N and Emmett expected it to take several months. Needless to say, it was a shock – albeit a very happy one – when Y/N had immediately gotten pregnant within a few weeks of the wedding. Once again nervous about such a quick change, they were worried about telling the boys, but it was a pointless worry, as both Henry and Max were completely elated at the knowledge that they were going to be big brothers.

But their happiness couldn’t top Y/N’s or Emmett’s, and when Y/N had told Emmett she was pregnant, he had held her with his hands on her stomach for a good hour before finally letting her go so she could call her parents and tell them the news. She’d been incredibly nervous in the beginning, worried that something would go wrong, but as the weeks passed and everything unfolded as it was supposed to, she was finally able to relish the idea that she was having a baby, something that she’d always wanted. The fact that it was with Emmett was the absolute icing on the cake, and she only loved him more each day as she thought about how, with him, she had everything else she’d ever wanted as well. How excited Emmett was only made it even sweeter, as he was completely thrilled when they found out they were having a girl.

For her entire pregnancy, Emmett had savored watching Y/N with love and pride, seeing the evidence of their child growing inside her as her stomach grew, and knowing that with her, things were now how they should be. She’d given him everything he could want, and he loved her more each day for it. What they had together was incredibly special, and that bled into everything else, too. They had each other, they had the boys, and now, they had this new baby on the way, making their family complete.

But the pregnancy happening sooner than expected also meant that finding a new house was now the priority. But after two months of looking, they hadn’t found anything that was quite right, and so they ultimately decided to build.

The stress had been high, as they were in the midst of completing the process of Y/N’s officially adopting the boys as well while trying to manage the home construction and the move, wanting to wrap everything up before the baby arrived. Somewhat surprisingly, but to their relief, Norah had signed off on officially forfeiting her parental rights. Shockingly, she’d agreed to do so without argument, and both Y/N and Emmett liked to think that something from what they’d said to her back when she’d left had hit home and made her realize that it was for the best. Regardless, they were incredibly pleased with her cooperation and weren’t going to question it, and the adoptions were official soon thereafter.

To top it all off, in the whirlwind of everything else, and then having only just moved into the new house after a little over 7 months of construction, the baby had decided to make her appearance a month and a half ahead of schedule.

They weren’t exactly sure why Y/N had gone into labor so early, but of course, the initial reaction had been panic. After hearing everything Emmett and Y/N had been juggling, the doctor chalked the early delivery up to stress, but fortunately, although early, Sadie had been declared completely healthy, and everyone felt immense relief upon her being given the all-clear. After two weeks in the NICU for monitoring and to get her weight up, they’d been able to take her home, and Y/N and Emmett had finally been able to breathe a sigh of relief in having all the previous stress behind them, and getting through everything like they did had only brought them closer.

Thinking back on it all, it was so hard to believe that it was early September and Sadie was now six months old already. Just as Jackie had said, the time had flown by, and Y/N found it amusingly ironic that she was standing in the middle of the exact same ballpark where she and Emmett had had their snarky little argument in the very beginning, and now, here she stood, holding their baby.

“Mom!” Max suddenly called out, and Y/N looked over her shoulder to where he stood several yards away. “Can I go sit with Jake until my team plays?”

“Sure, kiddo,” Y/N answered. “But make sure you’re paying attention for when your coach calls you guys up.”

Max nodded.

“I will,” he replied, and then he ran off to join his friend at the far end of the bleachers.

Smiling as she turned back around and adjusted Sadie on her hip, Y/N spoke to Jackie once more.

“I should get seated and give this one her bottle,” she said. “But let me know when you’re free for a girls’ night. I want to plan something with you, Melissa, and Stacy again sometime soon.”

“Just name the place and I’m there,” Jackie replied, and they laughed again before parting ways.

After making her way up the bleachers with Sadie and the diaper bag in tow, Y/N sat down and was just about to give her a bottle when she happened to glance up and saw Emmett making his way across the parking lot towards them. She lifted her free hand in a wave at him to get his attention, but he’d already spotted her, and he smiled as he kept walking.

Seeing Y/N with Sadie was something that would never cease to cause the most wonderful stab of emotion in Emmett’s chest. It was the exact same way he felt every time he saw her with the boys, and as Henry and Max called out greetings to him as they noticed him arriving while they got ready to play, he called back to each of them, unable to stop smiling as he thought about his awesome boys, his sweet baby girl, and the absolutely amazing woman he got to call his wife.

His chest nearly caved in again as he made his way to Y/N on the bleachers and she beamed a smile up at him. As he stopped in front of her, they shared a greeting before he bent down to give her a quick kiss before taking a seat beside her.

“So, the doctor said she’s ok, huh?” Emmett asked after he sat and then turned to Y/N.

“Yeah, just fine,” Y/N replied with a nod.

“Is that true?” Emmett then said to Sadie, looking at her and then gently taking her from Y/N. He held her up in front of him and gave her a kiss on her chubby little cheek. “How’s my little girl?” he said warmly, and when she gave a squeal of delight, Emmett smiled.

“Why do you have her in the zip-up?” he asked Y/N then as he sat Sadie down on his leg and held her there, noticing she was in the sleep sack they usually only put on her at night.

“Because she’s been kicking her legs around like crazy today, and I didn’t want her to accidentally knock anyone in the back of the head while we sit here,” Y/N said with amusement.

Emmett laughed.

“She never stops moving,” he said.

“I know,” Y/N replied with a smile. “When I picked her up at daycare, they said she’d made it all the way across the room after they’d only turned their backs for a second to get her pacifier.”

“You must be hungry after all that exercise,” Emmett said, looking down at Sadie as he bounced her on his leg. Then he looked back to Y/N. “Did you already feed her?”

“No, I was just about to,” Y/N replied. She reached into the diaper bag and pulled out the full bottle, Emmett then reaching for it. Y/N watched adoringly as he rested Sadie back against his front and began feeding her, quietly speaking to her as he did. Her little hands alternated between waving around and grabbing onto the bottle, Emmett holding it for her in one hand while keeping her steadily upright with the other.

Just as she’d told Jackie, Y/N could never get over seeing Emmett and Sadie together, and she just watched them for several moments, Emmett not even realizing as he looked forward and watched Henry’s game begin while continuing to feed her. Of course, just as he was with the boys, he was an amazing father, and watching him with the baby they’d made together just pushed every single emotional button she had. She felt so fortunate to finally have everything she’d ever wanted, and while the journey they’d been on to get here had been rocky at points, she wouldn’t trade it for anything, the wonderful children and the incredible man she now called her husband making every moment worth it.

With Sadie’s bottle almost empty, Y/N leaned over and lifted the bib around her neck to wipe the dribbled milk from her chin. Looking down, Emmett adjusted the bottle to help her get the last of what was inside.

“You look really sexy right now, you know that?” Y/N said quietly to Emmett as she leaned in closer again to take the empty bottle. “Talk about a DILF.”

Turning his head and looking at her, she could immediately see the heat behind his eyes.

“I thought I told you, you shouldn’t talk that way around children,” he said, pretending to be stern as he replied, his voice low.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I take it back then,” Y/N teased him quietly as she shrugged her shoulders. “After all, you did say you didn’t want a cookie, so I guess I should have known better. Oh well.”

“I never said that,” Emmett replied, then leaned in closer to her neck and spoke even lower in her ear. “In fact, I was thinking how beautiful you look as I was walking up here. But if you’re gonna keep acting like this, then later tonight, I’ll make you sorry you offered that cookie in the first place.”

Y/N leaned into him more.

“Promise?” she said sensually and looked into his eyes again, but they were interrupted when everyone around them started cheering at a ball Henry’s team had just hit, Sadie joining in on the excitement as she squealed loudly and wiggled in Emmett’s grasp. They also suddenly saw Max approaching, running up the bleachers to grab his bottle of sports drink from the diaper bag.

“Count on it,” Emmett said with a raise of his eyebrows, and they quickly kissed before Max reached them.

“Dad, can I have some money for another drink?” Max asked, looking at Emmett.

“That bottle in your hand hasn’t even been opened yet,” Emmett said to him with an amused smile.

“This one’s for Henry. It was the last one we had, and Mom said I could buy my own when we got here.”

Emmett smiled even bigger. He would never get over the happiness he felt in hearing the boys call Y/N “Mom.”

“You mean you and Henry don’t want to share that one?” he asked then, teasing Max.

“Eww! No!” Max replied. “Gross!”

Both Y/N and Emmett laughed, and Emmett passed Sadie over to Y/N and then reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

“Did she also tell you that if we buy you a drink now, you have to pay us back double what I give you for it?”

“What?!” Max said, looking up from letting Sadie grab his finger. He then turned his head to Y/N for verification if that was the truth, and she gave him a wink and shook her head, making Emmett smile at the look of relief on Max’s face.

“Get outta here,” he said to Max fondly as he handed him the money. “Your team’s up next, so you better hurry up if you’re gonna buy that drink.”

After Max had run off again, Y/N spoke, looking down at Sadie and kissing the top of her head as she adjusted her on her lap.

“Daddy’s so mean, isn’t he?” she said teasingly with a smile on her face.

Emmett smiled back, lifting the pacifier clip on Sadie’s zip-up and placing the pacifier in her mouth before looking at Y/N, feigning sympathy as he answered her.

“Sorry, girls,” he said. “You’re stuck with me.”

•.•.•.•.•

“Oh, God, Emmett…fu— ahhh!…Em, please!”

“You better keep it down. Wouldn’t want you to wake up the kids before I let you finish.”

Emmett’s lips skimmed Y/N’s ear and he spoke lowly as he continued stroking her with one hand, his body hovering over hers as his fingers expertly pumped in and out of her and teased her clit while he used his other hand to hold her hip beneath him. When he slipped his thumb to her crown and massaged her bud again, Y/N tried to contain her whimper as her hand flew up and she roughly grabbed the back of Emmett’s head, twisting her fingers in his hair and pulling his face to hers.

As their lips connected, Emmett groaned, feeling the tug of Y/N’s fingers and the desperation in her kiss as she thrusted up against his hand. He deepened the kiss and stroked her again when she lowered her hands down his front and ran them up his bare chest.

“Then make me finish,” Y/N breathed out as their lips parted, and she reached down between them. But just as her palm was about to wrap around his cock, Emmett grabbed her wrist and stopped her.

“I was the only one promised a cookie tonight, princess,” he said, tormenting her. “Whether or not you get yours depends on how generous I’m feeling.” He stroked her again and she had to bite his shoulder, and Emmett had to stifle his own volume when he felt her teeth on his skin.

“Em…” she moaned again as she opened her mouth and arched off the mattress. “Please! I need you!”

Her desperate begging never failed to drive him crazy, and Emmett groaned as their lips met again. As Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and whined as she felt his cock brush against her, Emmett gripped her leg under her knee and pushed her leg upwards, opening her up to him as their lips parted. Looking down at her, their eyes met, and Y/N ran her hand through his hair again as he spoke.

“I’m right here, baby,” he said lovingly, his voice suddenly gentle.

When Y/N looked up at him, her heart skipped a beat, and then her eyes were squeezed shut seconds later as the amazing bliss of Emmett filling her rippled through her body.

Right before he felt the insane pleasure of slipping inside her, Emmett caught the look in Y/N’s eyes, and it mirrored exactly how he felt.

It was the same adoration that accompanied them every time, each of them relishing in the fact that they’d gotten to where they were and that they had each other. And as each of them thought about what the other had given them, it just solidified the fact that this was how it was supposed to be.

Just as they neared the edge, Y/N lifted her hand to Emmett’s face, stroking his jaw as she pulled away from his lips and met his eyes.

“I love you so much,” she said to him softly.

Emmett’s heart pounded.

“I love you so much,” he said, shaking his head and brushing her hair off her cheek. “Completely perfect.”

Later on, they were still basking in the afterglow in the dark room when Y/N heard Emmett chuckle behind her.

“What?” she asked him quietly, the curious amusement evident in her voice.

“Nothing,” Emmett replied, the smile obvious in his voice as well. “I was just thinking about how ironic it is that you went from throwing bottles at my head, to marrying me and we now have a 6-month-old daughter.”

Rolling over and giving him a smile, Y/N giggled before she replied.

“I was actually thinking the exact same thing earlier today,” she said. “But may I remind you that you weren’t always a dream neighbor, either? I believe it was you who woke me up every Saturday at 7:00 a.m. with your lawn mower.”

Emmett smiled.

“Yeah, and after that particular morning, I wasn’t sure what had me more annoyed: the fact that you were throwing trash at me, or the fact that that nightgown of yours wasn’t completely see-through.”

Y/N giggled again.

“Well, if you still have lingering frustration about that, we can find some trash for you to throw at me tomorrow, and then we’ll call it even,” she said.

Emmett grinned.

“I think I’ll get up extra early and mow the lawn instead.”

“You could,” Y/N replied, scooting even closer to him as Emmett wrapped his arm around her waist. “But that’s not really gonna be an effective form of revenge.”

“Why not?” Emmett asked amusedly.

Smiling, Y/N leaned in and gave him a small kiss before she answered.

“Because now, because of what it caused, the noise of a lawn mower is pretty much my favorite sound in the whole world.”

Laughing then, Emmett shifted, unable to do anything other than smile as he wrapped his arm more tightly around Y/N and then leaned in to kiss her once more.

Yes, he thought, this was definitely how it was supposed to be.

*•~•*•~•*•~•*

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weakness

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s place takes one hell of an unexpected turn for you and Joel when hidden feelings start coming to the surface.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s). mentions of reader having longer hair/her hair gets brushed, reader wears a dress, no specific mention of reader’s size, but there is a brief mention of the dress fitting loose on her, Frank is sweet and makes her feel pretty, Bill is a grump, Joel is kind of soft, hidden feelings. dashes of angst, fluff, and an abundance of Frank being an absolute angel.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY. NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 5.7k

“Can you stop fidgeting for just one second, please?” Frank scolds you lightly, bringing down the palm of his hand onto your shoulder in a small, quick slap in an attempt to get you to stop squirming. He then moves his hands back up to your hair, which is out of its usual braid and towel dried after a much, much needed wash. The sickeningly sweet scent of the floral shampoo you’d used in the shower earlier that afternoon lingers deliciously in the air around you, a refreshing and welcome change from what your hair normally smells like—grime and smoke from hours of work detail in the Boston QZ. After coming out all of the stubborn tangles that he can find, Frank then picks up a boar hairbrush and he carefully begins to run it through your locks. He starts from the roots of your hair and brings the natural bristles down, all the way through to your ends. He chuckles and says, “You know, I would be done a hell of a lot quicker if you would just sit still.”

You sigh softly, but impatiently, allowing yourself one final, uncomfortable little shuffle in the white wicker chair he has you perched on before finally giving into his request. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” you mumble You bring your knees up against your chest and exhale another small sigh. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the smug, satisfied smile on Franke’s face as he continues brushing your hair. “So, tell me again why we’re even doing this?” you question him just a minute later, as if he hasn’t already explained it to you about a hundred times—he wants to do something special for you. “It kind of seems like a complete waste of time, don’t you think so?”

“We’re doing this because you deserve to get dolled up for once in your adult life,” Frank states in a matter of fact tone. The world had ended when you’d been about seven years old, and he’d imagined that since then, you’d never done a single damn thing for your appearance—besides the occasional at home haircut you would give yourself every few months with an old pair of rusted shears. He’d have been absolutely right about that. “And besides, it’s something of a special occasion today,” he adds. “It’s the first day of spring. The weather outside is stunning, our flowers are finally in full bloom, and we have a nice outdoor lunch planned to celebrate the new season.”

You can’t help the way the corners of your mount turn upwards into a small smile. One might think it was all rather silly, given it was the end of the world and all, but you have to admit, you admire the way Frank manages to find genuine happiness and joy in the little things, like warm sunshine on the first day of spring. Or showing a friend what a proper hairbrush looks like. He has such a beautiful soul, something that very, very few people in this new world possess. 

“Your hair is so healthy,” Frank observes a few minutes later, setting the hairbrush aside. Taking two handfuls of your hair from the front, he twists them gently and brings them around to the back of your head. He then secures them with a clear, elastic band and runs his fingers through your soft locks, maneuvering your hair until it cascades perfectly around your shoulders. Frank walks around your chair to face you, fussing until he makes sure that every stand is neatly in place. He smiles. “You should wear your hair down more often, you know. It really suits you.”

“Long, loose hair and work detail are a recipe for disaster,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. “Most of the work sites in the zone require anyone who has longer hair to keep it tied back, anyway.” You push your legs out away from your chest and plant your feet firmly on the floor. “Listen, Frank. I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. I really do,” you swear. “It’s incredibly sweet, but there’s really no point. In just a few hours, Joel and I are going to have to head back into Boston where my hair goes back into its braid and I have to change back into my normal clothes.”

“Exactly. So how about you just zip it and enjoy this while it lasts?” he suggests with a tiny, cheeky grin.

“But Frank—”

“Honey, this is a fight you simply aren’t going to win, so hush. Now, come with me.” He takes your hand, pulling you out of the chair and up to your feet. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, and with a reluctant sigh, you do as you’re told. Frank leads you over towards the full length mirror in the far corner of his and Bill’s bedroom. “Okay. One, two, three—open your eyes.”

Your eyes flutter open and your mouth parts slightly in surprise. 

“What the fuck,” you murmur underneath your breath, taken aback by the reflection in the mirror. The young woman staring back at you, she looks absolutely nothing like you. The hair, the hint of blush on your cheekbones—the color he’d found was one one that flatters the tone of your skin—and the thin coat of decades old mascara that he’d applied to your eyelashes; the tube had been bone fucking dry, but Frank used a few drops of water to bring it back to life, swearing up and down it was fine to put near your eyes. And then there was the dress, the goddamn dressed he’d force you into. His favorite part of the makeover and your least favorite. 

“Wait until you see what I found for you to wear,” he’d told you, giddy as if it were him who would be donning a new outfit. “You’re going to love it!”

Skeptical, you had asked, “Am I though?”

Frank had gone to the boutique and found you a dress to wear, and while it was just a tad loose on your frame, he insisted that it would look just fine on you with the help of a safety pin hidden at the back of it, pulling the fabric taut. It was simple enough, white with a subtle sweetheart neckline and thin straps that tied together at your shoulders. The delicate lace fell down in a flowing skirt to just a few inches above your knees and it itched like hell, especially at your sides. Wanting to add a finishing touch to the outfit, Frank had brought you a pair of brown, strappy sandals and he’d let you know that he had a couple of different color options for a cardigan in the event it became too chilly outside. 

“You look perfect,” he gushes. “Like a daydream!”

You look different. But that isn’t what brought on the shock. More than anything, you’re completely taken aback by how fucking normal you look. 

Sure, coming over to Bill and Frank’s always gave you a temporary sense of normalcy. They always allowed you to take a hot shower, gave you the opportunity  to properly wash your hair and change out of your dirty shirt into a new clean one. They always provided you with a warm meal presented on porcelain dishware that wasn’t stained or chipped like the shit you had back home in your crumbling apartment in Boston. You’d had several tastes of normal thanks to those two, but this drastic change to your appearance was overwhelming. Too overwhelming.

You’d never thought that you could look like this, not in this fucking lifetime. 

Frank immediately picks up on your emotions, senses how you’re feeling. Standing behind you, he places his two hands on your shoulders and leans his head forward, pressing his cheek against yours as his kind eyes meet your tearful gaze in the mirror. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I really hope you feel beautiful. You deserve it. You deserve so much more, but if I can at least give you this much, then my mission is accomplished.”

You open your mouth to speak, but words fall short. Afraid that you might burst into tears on the spot, you clamp your mouth shut and give him the tiniest little nod of your head accompanied by a quivering smile of gratitude. 

Frank smiles back. “Good. Now, come on, let’s go out front and have lunch.” His hands fall from your shoulders and he ushers you out into the hallway and towards the staircase. Looking over his shoulder, he gives you a wink. “I’m really eager to see what your man thinks of your new look.”

“What?” you sputter, almost tripping over your own two feet. “Who—you mean, Joel?”

Shit. You’d almost forgotten about Joel.

What the hell is he going to say when he sees you like this?

What’s he going to think?

Probably that you look utterly fucking ridiculous, that’s what.

“Who else would I be talking about? Bill?” Frank snorts. “Yes, I’m talking about Joel.”

You glare at his back. This isn’t the first time Frank has teased you about Joel Miller, and despite the countless times you’ve sworn to him that there was nothing going on between the two of you, he insists on believing otherwise, adamant that there has to be something more there. “Don’t start with this shit again. He is not my man, and you damn well know that.”

“He might as well be,” Frank shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he leads you down the staircase.

“Frank, I’m being serious,” you say. Normally, weren’t so uptight about it all, but today, you’re not finding his antics amusing in the slightest, not while you’re wearing goop on your face and sporting a fucking dress. “I’ve told you a million times that there is nothing going on between me and Joel. He’s my partner.” You pause briefly, realizing how that must have sounded, and add in emphasis, “He’s my work partner. We work together, Frank. We smuggle shit together. That’s it.”

Frank stops at the bottom of the staircase and turns to you, letting out a curious hum. “Hmm. And if I remember correctly, you two also live together, you sleep in the same bed together, you spend every waking moment from sunrise to fucking sunset together—I have never heard of two work partners being that close, sweetheart.”

Stubborn, you shake your head. “He’s like fifty!”

“The world ended and that’s your concern? An age gap?” he questions. “Really?”

“Frank,” you plead his name, groaning. “I swear it. We’re nothing to each other. Joel is—well, he’s Joel. He’s not exactly the type of man who does that. You know, feelings and shit.”

He throws his head back slightly, letting out a loud laugh that echoes through the foyer of his home. “Oh, trust me. I know that much. Between you and me, I have to say that he reminds me a whole lot of Bill,” he muses. He notices the horrified expression that crosses your face and laughs again, holding up his hands in defense. “Wait a minute, just hear me out. They’re polar opposites in some ways, but in most ways, they’re almost the same fucking person. Joel is just like Bill. Cranky. Grumpy. He hates everyone and everything. Kind of man who’ll stab someone if they so much as look at him the wrong way. Would you say that’s pretty accurate?”

“Yeah, sounds like Joel Miller,” you have to admit. As much as you did not want to think of Joel being the same person as Bill, Frank had a pretty good point.

“But Joel also reminds me of Bill because he’s the kind of man who means well when it comes to the people that he cares about. The kind of man who will do whatever it takes to protect what is his,” he further explains. He pauses and then asks, “Let me ask you something. You trust him, right?”

You don’t even miss a beat, answering, “Of course. With my life.”

He ticks his  index finger at you. “Aha! Exactly!” he exclaims. “You know that Joel would never let anyone lay so much as a finger on you. He’d never let anything bad happen to you. And why is that?”

You stare at him blankly, unsure of how to respond. “Is this a trick question?”

Huffing, Frank rolls his eyes and lets out a disappointed sigh, as if you’d missed the obvious. “It’s because you mean something to him, sweetheart. Whether you choose to let yourself believe it or not, you mean something to Joel Miller.”

For a moment, it feels like all the wind’s been knocked out of you. 

Could Frank actually be right? 

Do you actually mean something to Joel?

No, that was impossible. Joel Miller doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything—all he cares about is surviving long enough to find Tommy again one day, and even then, he never speaks of his younger brother too kindly. He’s been hardened by this world, closed himself off, put up a barrier around himself that nothing can permeate. Not even you.

“Under that tough, rugged exterior, there’s a soft spot. It’s there, for you and only for you.” Frank’s eyes glimmer, speaking a truth he’s been wanting to tell you for the better part of the last several months. “You might need to do some digging to find it, but it’s there.”

“I just don’t understand why you would think that,” you confess, shaking your head. “Joel has never said anything to me to indicate that I mean something to him. More often than not, I find myself wondering if even considering us to be friends is too generous.” You cross your arms over your chest, growing uncomfortable under his knowing stare. “Yes, Joel looks out for me, but that’s only because we work together so well. I know my way around. He needs me, especially if he plans on getting to Tommy.”

Frank bites his bottom lip, stifling another laugh.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t even realize it, do you?”

Your eyebrows knit together, confused. “What? Realize what?”

“You are his weakness.”

He’d said it so simply, and yet there goes the rest of your air leaving your lungs, an invisible first driving itself right into your gut. 

“Of course Joel isn’t going to tell you how he feels about you. He’s afraid,” Frank remarks, sounding so sure as if he had been told that by Joel Miller himself.

“You’re wrong. Joel isn’t afraid of anything,” you counter in the steadiest voice you can muster. “You’re wrong, Frank.”

“He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.” Any trace of teasing or playfulness had disappeared from Frank’s expression. He speaks gently, but with purpose, with such seriousness that it makes your heart sink further and further down into the pits of your stomach.

When you speak again, your voice is strained, thick with emotions you’re trying so desperately to shove down. “Frank, you really need to put down the fucking romance novels.” Before he can say another word to you about it, you place a hand lightly on your stomach. “I’m really hungry. Can we go eat now? Please?”

Thankfully, he gets the hint to drop the subject.

“Of course. Come on” Frank takes your hand. He opens the front door and leads you outside and onto the freshly landscaped front lawn. He had been right, the flowers were in full bloom—the small, round table he’d set was positioned in a perfect spot so that no matter where anyone sat, they would have a view of the colorful roses and azaleas he and Bill had planted around the perimeter of the yard.

As soon as he sees you two approaching, Bill throws up his hands in a dramatic fashion. “It’s about goddamn time!” He grouches loudly. “Jesus Christ, Frank. I’m fucking starving!”

“Sorry, got caught up inside.” Frank tosses his partner a sweet smile as he releases your hand. “But look, I found myself something pretty!”

Heat floods your cheeks. You should have known better than to think he wasn’t going to make a fuss about your new appearance. “Frank, please. Don’t.”

“Oh come now, you know I have to show you off!”

Joel, whose back had been turned towards you, furrows his eyebrows and he glances over his shoulder, looking to see what Frank was referring to. His dark brown eyes widen just ever so slightly, the grip around his glass of red wine tightening in complete surprise at the sight of you. Frank had failed, quite miserably, to convince him to dress up for the occasion, but at the very least, he’d talked him into wearing one of the nicer shirts he'd found at the boutique, a neatly pressed, sage green button up with long sleeves that, much to Frank’s chagrin, Joel had rolled up to his elbows. His graying, dark brown curls  might have even had a comb run through them, but it;s  difficult to tell if the way his thick locks were effortlessly disheveled was natural or the result of his efforts to tame them.

“What do you think, Joel?” Frank beams proudly, as if presenting the man with one of his painted art pieces.

Joel doesn’t respond. His eyes remain glued on you, following as you walk around the table and take your usual place beside him.

“Way to put me on the spot, Frank,” you mutter, your face growing warmer and warmer with every second that ticks by. You silently urge yourself to get a grip as you reach for the crisp, white cloth napkin next to your plate and drape it over your lap. The smoked, wild rabbit Bill had cooked up for lunch  smells heavenly—Frank knows  it’s  your absolute favorite dish, and so he had made sure Bill put it on today’s menu, bless his heart. 

Joel still hasn’t uttered a single word. Part of you hopes he wouldn’t.

“Joel?” Frank prompts as he picks up his own cloth napkin. “Doesn’t she look pretty?”

You glare daggers at him from across the table and hiss, “Frank!”

Finally, Joel sets down his glass of wine and turns slowly, angling his body towards yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, but clear as day as he looks at you, “Yeah. She looks very pretty.”

His eyes flicker up to meet yours, causing your heart to skip a beat inside of your chest and a strange warmth to bloom in your belly. 

Had he actually meant that?

“You look real nice,” he adds, giving you a subtle nod of his head. He lets his sights linger on you for another moment before tearing his gaze away. He then turns back to the table, picking up his glass of wine once again, chugging what’s left of it before reaching for the bottle to pour himself another. 

Bill clears his throat roughly. “Well, if everyone’s done playing dress up, I’d really like to fucking eat now.”

Meals with Bill and Frank were always pleasant. 

Well, meals with Frank were always pleasant.

 Although Bill had gotten used to having you and Joel over as guests and didn’t see either of you as a threat anymore, he still preferred to keep you both at arm’s length, a choice you two respected. He hardly ever said much and often chose to let his partner do all the talking unless the conversation had anything to do with trading supplies. Only then would he step in. 

As you’d tucked into your meal of wild rabbit and garden vegetables, you could feel Joel throwing subtle glances your way every so often. It was half expected that he would, seeing as he’d never seen you like this before. He was so used to seeing you in tattered, dirty old clothes with dirt and grime caked onto your skin and in your hair. 

Surely, he must have felt like he was sitting next to a complete stranger, not his smuggling partner.

About an hour later, once everyone has finished eating, you offer to help Frank clear and clean up the table and wash the dishes. He settles for letting you help him bring everything inside, but shoos you away before you can even think about lifting another finger. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” he says, waving you away from the kitchen sink with his hands. “You and Joel are taking off in just a couple hours, so go on and get some rest,” he suggests. “Oh, by the way, we found some new books to add to the collection. Might find something you like. Go ahead and check them out.”

“But I forgot my library card at home,” you joke lamely, although it earns you a sincere laugh from your friend. You pad out of the kitchen and into the living room, straight over towards a grand oak bookshelf that is packed tightly to the brim with dozens and dozens of books of various genres. You hadn’t been all that much of a reader before, but thanks to Frank, who always sent you home with at least two or three works in your pack, reading had become one of your favorite hobbies over the last few months, a sweet little escape that took you out of your shoddy apartment in the zone and into another world. You start searching the titles for the new finds he’d mentioned. Spotting one of them, you pluck it from the shelf, a paperback titled, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Opening it up, you begin thumbing through the pages, quickly realizing that it’s play—you’ve never read a play before. Still not convinced if it’s one you would like to take home with you, you flip back to the first page and start reading with a curious little hum. 

You had been so preoccupied with it that you hadn’t noticed Joel standing behind you, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest until he clears his throat, and asks, “Find somethin’ good?”

Startled, you whirl around, nearly dropping the book in your hands. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you breathe out, clutching it tightly against your chest as your heart rate slows. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Not my fuckin’ fault you were too busy with your nose buried in a book,” he states, trying his hardest to fight the small smirk threatening to cross his lips. He uncrosses his arms and pushes himself away from the doorframe.

A chuckle escapes you, almost nervously, as he slowly starts walking over towards you, his brown boots heavy on the hardwood floor. He takes the book from your hands, humming as he reads the cover. “Shakespeare, huh?”

“You know Shakespeare?” you toss him a teeny, lopsided smile as you tease, “He from your time?”

Joel lightly smacks your arm with the worn paperback. “Yeah, I know Shakespeare and he was about four hundred fuckin’ years before my time, thank you very much.” He flips it over, eyes skimming the text on the back. “Had the world not gone to shit, you would’ve grown up and spent your entire middle school career being forced by English teachers to read all his shit and write essays tryin’ to interpret it all.” He hands it back over to you. “Here.”

“Sounds like a real fucking dream,” you deadpan. You glance down, running your index finger down the spine of the book. You’re trying, almost painfully, to ignore how Joel’s eyes glaze over you from head to toe. 

“Y’know, it’s kinda nice,” he remarks quietly, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen over the two of you. “Seein’ you like this.”

You keep your eyes fixed on the book and scoff. “What? In a dress?”

“When we’re here, you let your guard down. Ain’t always lookin’ over your shoulder. You smile a hell of a lot more.” He pauses, then adds, “You look happy here. Sure, this dress looks nice on you. Your smile looks even fuckin’ better, though.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. More than his words, it’s the genuine tone in which he had said them—you’d never even realized Joel noticed things like that. Whether you were happy or not, how often you smiled. Or didn’t smile.

You force a small chuckle. “It’s the only sense of normalcy that we get. Of course I look happy when we’re here. Because I am happy when we’re here.” Still refusing to meet his gaze, you turn around and walk over to the couch towards your pack. Opening the top, you quickly shove the book inside. 

When you hear Joel’s footsteps coming up behind you, you stiffen slightly.

“Frank, he adores the hell outta you,” Joel says. He seems to hesitate, but then continues, “You ever think of askin’ him to stay here?”

“You kidding?” You snort in response. “Bill wouldn’t allow that. Never.”

Joel’s hands go to his hips, knowing you had a point. “But you know Frank can convince him of almost anythin’, don’t you? And besides, believe it or not, Bill actually likes you. He loves Frank more than anythin’ and you make Frank happy.”

You finally turn around to face and find yourself caught off guard by how close he’s standing to you. “Joel, what exactly are you getting at?” You raise an eyebrow before playfully asking, “Are you trying to get rid of me or something, Miller?”

Joel quickly shakes his head. “Of course not. All I’m sayin’ is that—” He stops and lowers his voice, just in case Bill or Frank happen to be wandering nearby. “I like seein’ this side of you. The happy side. The normal side.” He shrugs his shoulders, the lean muscles of his upper body flexing with the movement against the smooth fabric of his shirt. “Seein’ you all cleaned up, well fed and content—” He trails off once again. “Shouldn’t be a rare occurrence, y’know? You’d clearly be better off here with them and you know that with Frank’s help, we could probably talk Bill into letting you stay.”

The second you realize he’s being serious, your smile fades.

“What? But what about you?”

“Darlin’, Frank’s good, but he’s not a goddamn miracle worker. Even if he tried, that’s not somethin’ Bill would ever go for,” Joel admits, lifting a hand and raking his fingers through his hair. “And even if he did, we’d fuckin’ kill each other by the end of the first week.”

Bill and Joel being neighbors?

Talk about a different kind of apocalypse, you think to yourself.

“I know that much,” you reply with a tiny eye roll. “What I mean is, do you honestly think that I would leave my life in Boston?”

“That ain’t no fuckin’ life—”

You hold up a hand, stopping him. “I know it’s not. But it’s my life with you, Joel.”

The rough creases on his forehead suddenly soften. That was the first time you’d ever seen that happen.

The scowl on his face wasn’t permanent after all.

“Yes, this is nice. This patch of town, this house, the running water, the food, the clothes—this is a decent life. More than decent. In this world that we’re living in, this place is heaven. But without you, all of it would mean absolutely nothing to me. I wouldn’t be happy here, not without you.”

Joel tilts his head back, shaking it lightly. “Think about what you’re sayin’ here.”

“I know what I’m saying.” Before your brain and your body can even make the connection, you find yourself taking a step towards him, shrinking the gap between your bodies even further. You glance up at him, somehow finally finding the courage to have your eyes meet his. “I refuse to leave your side, Joel. That’s never going to happen. Not if I can fucking help it. Do you understand that?”

Joel exhales the breath he’d been holding, his warm breath tickling your face.

“I mean it, Joel. We’re in this shitty ass fucking world, together. No little slice of heaven could ever get me to leave you behind, no matter how good it is,” you declare, silently wondering to yourself where the hell you were even finding the balls to confess all of this to him. “Okay?”

“You’d be safer here than in the QZ, with all that shit’s that been goin’ down—”

“I’m the safest when I’m with you, Joel. I know I am.”

You lift your hand to his face. At first, there’s minor hesitation on your part, but you will yourself to place it on his cheek. Although your touch is gentle, Joel can’t help but wince. Not because he doesn’t want you to touch him, but because it had been so fucking  long since anyone had ever touched him like that. 

Since he’d let anyone touch him like that. 

He closes his eyes and after a second or two of resisting, he finally allows himself to relax his tense muscles and he sinks  into your touch.

Joel lets himself savor the feeling of your hand on his face. His bottom lip gives a subtle tremble when you softly start to graze your thumb down along his jawline. His beard, which you often playfully tease him about now that it’s beginning to gray just like his hair, feels rough and scratchy, and yet somehow still soft underneath your fingertips.

“Hey,” you murmur, and he forces his eyes to snap open. “We’re in this together. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it’s going to stay,” you assure him. “My place is with you, Joel.”

Joel manages to speak through tight lips, his voice strained. “You really fuckin’ gotta stop talkin’ to me like that, darlin’.”

You carefully move your hand away from his face, letting it drop back down to your side. “Why?”

“‘Cause. Shit like that is dangerous.”

“Dangerous,” you repeat, almost laughing. “Of all the things—”

Then, Frank’s words from earlier come to mind.

He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.

Joel’s dark eyes flicker to the strap of your dress, noticing it had started sliding off your shoulder. Before he can even think to stop himself, he reaches out and pulls it up back into place, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against your smooth skin. “You’re so soft,” he murmurs under his breath. All those fucking years of working with you, even sharing a bed together, and he had no idea of what it was like to touch you.

“Joel…” 

Your heart had all but climbed up into your throat.

“Everythin’ you just said a minute ago, ‘bout not wanting to stay here without me,” he starts to say, “I know that it’s fuckin’ selfish of me, but I’m real glad you said it. ‘Cause no way in hell do I want a life without you. I know it’s wrong but—”

Placing your hands delicately on his shoulders, you lift yourself up on your toes and cut him off mid-sentence by pressing your lips softly against his. The clean scent of the soap Frank had given him to shower with fills your senses and you yearn to have more of him, you nearly ache to get a real taste of him—but your courage only went so far. Thankfully, Joel knows to take over from here. One of his arms snakes  its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other reaches up, the warm palm of his hand pressing against your cheek. His tongue swipes lightly across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore your mouth just a little bit further.

You eagerly grant him access, half expecting his mouth to ravage yours.

Much to your surprise, Joel remains gentle.

The way that he kisses you, the way he holds your body against his, the way his large hand—the same hand that slits throats and breaks bones—delicately cradles the side of your face like you’re made of porcelain. 

“Joel,” you nearly whimper his name when he breaks away.

His face remains just inches from yours.

“Fuck,” he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting to catch his breath. “We’ll need to get goin’ soon.”

“I know.” You nod, hoping you don’t sound as disappointed as you feel. You can sense that Joel, much like yourself, is  at war with himself over what had just happened. Not that either of you regretted it, at least you certainly don’t, but the realization that you two have just crossed a line you’ll never come back from was daunting.

Joel lifts his head, lightly pressing his lips against your forehead. He then forces himself to release you from his arms and steps back, dropping them back down at his sides. “I need to, uh, I need to go get some things from Bill. Y’know, get my pack ready before we take off.”

You nod again. “I’ll start changing and get another pack of supplies ready as well.” You pause, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Joel, about what just happened—”

He silently shakes his head before leaning down, capturing your mouth with his.

This kiss is short and quick, and when he pulls away, he says nothing. He turns on the heel of his boot and disappears, heading out to meet Bill in the garage. 

Your hand flies to your mouth, your fingers lightly touching your lips.

“Well, well, well.”

Looking over your shoulder, your throat goes dry when you see Frank standing there, hands on his hips and a knowing, smug expression on his face. 

“How long have you been standing back there?”

“Long enough.” Even from a distance, you catch the amused twinkle in his eye. “What did I tell you?”

You turn away from him, biting your lower lip.

So maybe he’d been right after all.

Maybe you were Joel’s weakness. 

But he was yours too.

Lost Without You-

Cillian Murphy and Reader

Masterlist (Series Complete).

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Till THE DEAD do us part Masterlist

A/N: This story will take place in all the seasons, but it’s not exactly a rewriting cause I’d have to re-watch everything to use the exactly lines of the characters, also I think it’s better if I tell a side story without changing the main facts of the story. I’m not good with synopses, so sorry about that.

This story has a Female Reader, but I don’t describe her appearance, so anyone can identify with her.

Summary: Y/N Grimes is Rick’s younger sister, when the world ended she had Lori, Carl and Shane. But did she really have them? Her brother was dead, her sister-in-law was sleeping with her brother’s best friend and her nephew was just a small kid. She had him, Daryl Dixon was no knight in a shining armor and she was no damsel in distress, but maybe they were exactly what each other needed.

Warnings: swearing, death, violence , blood, injuries, sex, smut. Minors do not interact. 18+ (with the time I’ll add more to the list).

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader

Chapters

Smut - 🥵

Chapter 1: Vulnerable ~ Moodboard Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Anything that reminds you of me ~ Moodboard Chapter 2

Chapter 3: I’m sorry and Thank you ~ Moodboard Chapter 3

Chapter 4: Pinky Promise ~ Moodboard Chapter 4

Chapter 5: We’re all gonna die ~ Moodboard Chapter 5

Chapter 6: Are ya blind? ~ Moodboard Chapter 6

Chapter 7: Chupacabra ~ Moodboard Chapter 7

Chapter 8: Because it’s you

Chapter 9: I ain’t yer bitch, Grimes

Chapter 10: I’d carry it proudly 🥵

Chapter 11: I ain’t playin’

Chapter 12: You already have me 🥵

Chapter 13: This group’s broken

Chapter 14: We’ll not lose each other

Chapter 15: We’re definitely Lucky

Chapter 16: Ya know I hate lies, don’t ya?

Chapter 17: Of Kisses and Chapsticks

Chapter 18: I ain’t sleeping with Hershel

Chapter 19: After all this time?

Chapter 20: Feeling better D.?

Dividers of the chapters by @cafekitsune , for now it’s only on Chapter 17, but I’m thinking about going back and using in the olds too.