#we agreed to shove the collaborators to the front of the line though <3

[yyxgin]

skeletons & ramen 🎃 

-> pairing: lee minho x reader

-> genre: fluff, halloween au, college au

-> words: 3k (prologue included)

-> happy halloween folks !! this is a part of the @districtninewriters​ halloween collaboration !! check out the prologue and other amazing artists who also participated <3

-> warnings: mentions of alcohol and drinking, swearing and i think that is it :’) 

“No effin’ way did I spend all this time doing your makeup for you to stay at this party for ten minutes. Get your ass out there and at least talk to someone.”

BamBam’s words replayed in your head as you glanced around the party. It was impressive; you’d give him that. Your best friend was known for the ragers he threw, and his annual Halloween party was no exception. With loud music, expensive decorations ranging from a 12-foot-skeleton on the lawn to fog machines, and costumes required – “and none of that ‘just throwing on a witch’s hat’ either, that shit’s weak” – it won party of the year before it even occurred. 

And you didn’t want to come. It wasn’t that you didn’t like his parties. On the contrary, you really enjoyed them. But this year, the party was on Halloween night, which just so happened to be a Saturday. Your first midterm of the semester? Bright and early Monday morning at 8 a.m. sharp. 

“You have to come!” BamBam had said when you first mentioned skipping the party. You could already tell he was dangerously close to pulling out his puppy-dog eyes, as you called them, and if he did that, you were a goner.

You sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want to, Bam. It’s just that my first midterm is super early Monday morning, and I really, really need to study for it,” you said.

“So study on Sunday!” he argued. “You know I can’t have a party without my best friend there. Not to mention, I’ve already put so much thought into how I would do your makeup for your skeleton costume. Don’t make me have done research in vain. Please?”

That’s how you had ended up at the party. Your plan had initially been to stay for half an hour, but when you went to tell BamBam, he wasn’t having it. That’s when he had dropped the line about how much effort he had put into your makeup, shoving you out of the kitchen and into the lounge. 

As you looked around the room, you figured it wouldn’t kill you to talk to someone for a few minutes. But who?

You see a drunk guy from your literature class, Changbin, and his friend that has attended the party in a horse mask for the third year in a row, Jisung, in the corner of the spacious room. You know what, maybe they are not the best people to talk to at this college party.

Your classmate Lia and her friends that dressed up as power rangers are sitting on the sofa with a senior very well known as the friendly guy Chan dressed up as a cowboy, downing shots of tequila and singing loudly at the top of their lungs. You contemplate the choice for a moment, but decide against it when they turn to sing Into the unknown for the thirtieth time tonight, scrunching up your face in pure horror. 

Another choice are the party animals Hyunjin and Felix dressed up as peanut butter and jelly, dancing to whatever song comes out of the loud speakers. Yeah, you could never keep up with them.

The last few people in your sight are in a circle, laughing loudly, bottles of beer, soju and various other alcohol secured in their hands. You see your classmates Jeongin and Seungmin in there, but you don’t know any other people there, so you decide to just let them be.

Maybe you have no other choice, then to leave.

“Yah! We’re matching!” you hear a voice from beside you call, looking at the person and frowning in confusion. What on the earth is he talking about?

But then it hits you. The guy has skeleton makeup on his face, an all-black outfit fitting his body and a huge, obnoxious grin on his face. You really are matching, well, apart from the optimistic expression on his face very much different from yours, on the other hand, disgusted from the whole situation.

“Oh. You’re right. My friend BamBam actually did the makeup, so it’s not really my fault, though.” you smirk, watching the boy growing closer to you and inspecting the makeup on your face.

“Looks like him and Han Jisung watched the same youtube tutorial,” he mutters, making you burst out in laughter.

“Jisung? You mean to tell me that the guy who attends in a horse mask every year did your makeup today?” you ask in disbelief, rewarded by his adorable giggle.

“Yeah, well, I told him I wasn’t going to the party, because I didn’t have a costume, so he told me he was just going to turn me into a skeleton to force me to go with him.” he explains. 

“Looks like he did a much better job than BamBam did, anyway,” you point out, examining the work on his face. At this point, you’re going to go to Jisung to do your makeup for your cousin’s wedding you’re attending next month, because his skills are really good, to be honest.

“I appreciate the rhinestones on yours, though. A pretty detail,” he laughs, making you roll your eyes. 

“Yeah, BamBam likes finishing touches.” you smile.

You’re kind of getting flustered under his gaze, so you quickly turn to look to the ground in response. The fact that you didn’t even drink tonight wasn’t helping you get loose a tiny bit, your shy side showing right after there was a silence in the conversation.

“Wait, you’re telling me you’re friends with BamBam and we somehow still don’t know each other?” asks the friendly stranger, making you look up at his face again.

“Umm, yeah.” you nod.

“And you know Jisung as well.” he points out.

“Yeah, well, everybody knows Jisung, so…” you say.

“Yeah, but we have so many mutual friends, yet we still don’t know each other… that’s strange. Well, anyways, I’m Minho.” he smiles, putting a hand to you to shake it. 

“Nice to meet you, Minho. I’m y/n.” you smile at him and take his hand to shake it. His grip is firm, but not painful, the presence of his skin on yours making you slightly excited.

You were never that good with meeting new people, so to have a stranger introduce themselves to you unprohibited, it felt good. Well, maybe BamBam was right about going to the party. Maybe you’ll even have a new friend after this, and god knows you need some new friends, because you’re certain hanging out with BamBam constantly kind of makes some of your brain cells disappear.

“Wanna get something to drink?” smiles the skeleton boy, on which you nod and follow him back to the kitchen where you’ve come from, seeing that it was now pretty much empty apart from the couple wearing matching costumes of Joker and Harley Quinn making out on the kitchen counter. 

You take a bottle of peach soju and see Minho do the same, cringing at the smacking noises and quickly pulling you away from the kitchen by the elbow, rolling his eyes in the process. “Can’t they just leave it for when they come home?” 

“I’m so sorry for BamBam, I swear if he has to clean the kitchen counter from sperm again this year, he’s going to seriously lose it-”

"Again?"

“Yeah, people get real wild out here.” you nod and try to erase the flashbacks coming back into your head from seeing your terrified and disgusted best friend cleaning the place with kitchen towels and some Clorox.

“Ew. See? This is why I didn’t even want to come in the first place.” says Minho with a disgusted expression on his face.

“You too?”

“Yeah, I hate parties!” exclaims the boy, throwing his arms in the air to gesture to the packed lounge.

“I know, right? I was actually supposed to be studying at the moment, but BamBam insisted on me coming, so I kinda had to, you know.” you blurb out, taking a sip from the soju in your hand.

“Studying. On a Saturday evening.” he gazes onto you, making you feel kind of stupid for sounding like the biggest nerd in the world. Yeah, you cared about your grades, but you weren’t as crazy as it sounded in the first place.

“Yeah, well, I have a midterm on Monday, so-”

“Oh. I got you.” he nods, licking his lips and taking his first sip of the peach alcohol in his hand, making you just awkwardly stare at his face in the process.

“Well, y/n,” starts Minho as he finishes drinking, “not to sound creepy or something, but do you wanna get out of here? Since we both kind of hate parties and our best friends got what they wanted…” he says, almost looking nervous at his question, making you just shyly nod.

“Yeah, sure.” you agree. You’re pretty sure BamBam won’t notice if you leave now, and if he does, well, you spoke to someone. That means you did what he wanted you to do. He can’t be mad now.

“Okay. I’ll be taking this with me.” laughs Minho as he shows you the half-empty bottle of soju in his hand, making you giggle as you show him yours and nod in response, telling him you’ll be doing the same as the two of you go to the front door. You were wearing your black coat through the whole evening and from the looks of his black leather jacket, it looked like he was too, so there was no reason for the two of you to stay at the party longer and look for your things.

“Let’s go!” you muse, going out of the house with Minho by your side, the chilly breeze and silence hitting you in the face in a weird, but comforting way.

“And where are we even going?” asks Minho, making you stop in your tracks and giggle.

“I don’t know.” you shrug, watching his amused smirk only grow wider.

“Let’s just… walk around for a while, I guess?” you say, receiving a nod from him in return as you start walking side by side in the neighbourhood. 

You both keep talking to each other and getting to know each other, learning that Minho is studying dance and not business like most of your mutual friends, and you, do, which is probably why you’d never met before. You manage to make him show you some of his dance moves, both of you slightly tipsy now, giggling at his silly dance in the middle of the street. It was easy, talking to Minho.

“Let’s go trick or treating!” he cheers, making you laugh.

“We’re 21, Minho, nobody will give us any treats.” you say, refusing to get yourself through that kind of embarrassing dumbassery on this wonderful Saturday evening.

“Nobody can see we’re too old for it through this makeup,” pouts Minho, making you laugh even harder. You’re not even sure if it’s the alcohol in your veins that makes everything he says and does so funny to you, but you just know his presence makes you giggle quite a lot.

“They can definetly see, Minho, they’re not dumb.” you say, patting him on his shoulder.

“Hmm,” he pouts, but only for a minute before he manages to change the topic with a sudden information, “I’m in a mood for some ramen.”

“Yeah, same. I haven’t had ramen in so long, dude,” you muse, your mouth already full of saliva only at the thought of the food coming in your sight.

“Let’s have ramen, then,” shrugs Minho and paces quickly in a different direction.

“Yah, where are you going?”

“To the supermarket for some ramen! And then, we’re going to my place and we’re going to eat some ramen.” he explains, not even letting you a moment to disagree with his statement as you jog to catch up with him. Perhaps he notices your alarmed expression on your face, making him quickly reassure you and your noisy thoughts.

“Don’t worry, y/n, I’m not gonna kill you. You can come over, I swear.” he says, but after he sees you still biting on your lower lip in nerves, he stops in his tracks and gazes into your eyes to comfort you.

“Really. You can trust me. We even have mutual friends, remember?” his expression is soft, dreamy, almost, making you instantly relax and nod.

“Okay.” you say, clearly missing what stranger danger means, but you feel like you can trust Minho. Right?

“Okay. Let’s go.” he nods, cheeringly going in the direction of the supermarket again, with you by his side, singing a popular song under his breath in the process.

After an enormous amount of laughter and one argument over which ramen you two should buy, you two finally reach the cashier that looked rather uninterested until she saw you, smiling and giggling under her breath. You place the two packs of ramen onto the counter, waiting for the girl to check you up and give you your delicious food into your hands.

“What a lovely couple you two are.” she smiles at the two of you after reaching out her hands in front of you with the ramen in her hold.

“We are not a couple, actually…” you mumble, feeling quite shy at her comment.

“Oh, but the matching costume…”

“That was a coincidence, really,” you laugh awkwardly, wanting to be finally on your way to Minho’s apartment, when Minho smirks behind you.

“We’re not a couple yet, but you know, perhaps this was all destiny,” he jokes, making you turn around and playfully elbow him in the ribs, a joyful giggle followed by your skeleton companion.

“I’m just joking, chill,” he says, thanking the cashier and taking the ramen into his hands, escaping the supermarket and leading you into his apartment. 

The journey there is comfortable, but the atmosphere quickly changes as you reach his place, taking off your shoes to not dirty his, surprisingly, clean apartment, taking off your jacket and looking at Minho standing in the doorway and watching you. “Well, here we are. Welcome.”

“Thanks.” you shyly respond, not really knowing what to do at this point.

“Come on in, don’t just stand there,” scoffs Minho, leading you into the kitchen to cook the ramen with you right after him, watching your every step and looking around in the dark apartment, silently appreciating his choice of interior design. 

“Meow!” you hear from the dark room, making you jump.

“Wow!” you jolt out, making Minho turn around to laugh at your shocked face, dropping the packs of ramen to the table and picking up his cat from under it to show it to you.

“Yeah, I kinda forgot to tell you… I have three cats, this is Soonie. Say hello, Soonie,” smiles Minho and takes the cat’s pow into his hand to make it wave to you, finally calming down your racing heart.

“Oh my god, that scared me.” you giggle, petting the cat’s head. “She’s adorable.” you mumble.

“I know, right? You should see your face,” giggles Minho, “and this is Doongie and Dori.” he says pointing at the two cats that were, very much not to your knowledge, following you to the kitchen. You shyly wave at them and mumble a quiet “Hi” to the creatures, watching them take their respectful seats under the table again.

The conversation flows freely right after, the slight scare that Minho’s cats brought you making the atmosphere much less awkward, seating yourself at his kitchen table and watching him take his role in the kitchen and cooking the ramen you’ve just bought, appreciating the way he moves through the room and still manages to keep you entertained in the conversation.

“Here you go.” smiles Minho as he places the plate with the finished food on the table in front of you, a proud grin plastered on his skeleton face. 

“Thanks!” you muse, diving right in to the steaming food, slurping and enjoying every single bite of it. You know ramen is not exactly that hard to prepare, but damn did it taste amazing in the late hours of the night, hitting every nerve. 

“It tastes so fucking good.” you mumble, your mouth still full of noodles.

“Chef Lee right at your service,” bows Minho, making you giggle.

In the process of eating, though, you feel a rhinestone fall off your face on the table. You frown, examining it, making another one fall down, realising that it was the steam from the ramen that made the eyelash glue BamBam put on your face dissolve and ruin your beautiful makeup.

“Wanna take it off? It’s late and it’s coming off by itself, anyway,”  he asks, making you nod without a hesitation, following him into the bathroom without even washing the dishes.

Minho takes some moisturizer and a tissue from his cupboard, making you silently curse yourself for not taking makeup wipes with you and having to turn to this poor alternative, seeing how he carefully applies the cream to the fabric and moves it to your face. 

“Can I?” he asks, suddenly, taking you by surprise.

“I mean… sure?”

You take a seat on the bathroom sink, watching his every move as he stands close to you and starts taking your makeup off. The action is quite relaxing as you close your eyes and let him carefully do his work, wondering how you even ended up in here. The moment feels intimate, yet you’ve only known Minho for a few hours, but you feel strangely safe in his presence as he takes care of you. You yawn a little after a few minutes, suddenly sleepy from the relaxing motions of his hand.

“Tired?” he muses, his voice low in the quiet.

You only hum in return, opening your eyes once he’s finished, finding him gazing at you with an unexplainable expression on his face.

“What?”

“Nothing.” he shakes his head and moves further away from your body, “I’ll take mine off and then I can walk you home if you’re feeling sleepy.” he says, making you nod.

Yeah, you feel kind of sad that your night with your new friend is coming to an end, but you can’t stay with him until the morning, right? And it’s getting quite late, anyway. Besides, something inside of you is telling you that this is not the last time you’re meeting the guy you’ve accidentally matched with on BamBam’s halloween party.

So you opt to wait for him in his living room, sitting at the comfortable blue sofa, surrounded by his three cats that take their seats close to you.

You don’t even know when you fall asleep when a handsome face wakes you up from your slumber, whispering into your ear as he gently picks you up from the sofa.

“I’ll let you sleep in my bed tonight. You don’t have to worry, I’ll take the couch.” he smiles when he sees your eyes open and gaze onto his face.

His features look mesmerizing, eye catching, even, without the heavy makeup that managed to hide them quite well. It was hard to make up his face behind the makeup, but when you fianally see it for the first time, you can’t help but find him really pretty. You feel kind of silly for thinking the thought and mentally slap yourself when doing so, but you just can’t stop thinking about how you find him just so beautiful. Maybe it’s the sleep taking over you, who knows?

“Sweet dreams, y/n. I’ll walk you home tomorrow, then.” he whispers into your ear, smiling at you when he drops you onto his bed.

“Sweet dreams, Minho.”

Yeah, it’s silly. 

But you definitely fell asleep that night with your new friend on your mind.

Perhaps the matching costumes really were a destiny.

[snelbz]

The Ranch {2}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty​ x @tacmc​

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

A/N: This story has been in the works for so long and we have poured hours and hours into it. There have been weekends where we did nothing but write (and drink wine) all day long, because this story just flowed out of us (and, of course, the wine flowed in). We say it all the time, but writing together is our favorite thing to do. This is our first full length fic together and I can’t believe we’re finally sharing it with y’all. As always, let us know what you think and a reminder that Tara and I will be going back and forth posting chapters, so look for chapter 3 on her blog soon!

The Ranch Masterlist

Cassian had been up for hours, but felt as if he’d blinked and it was nine in the morning. He’d woken up at four and while he was making coffee, he looked out the window and watched a young calf grazing in the field. He took a sip of his coffee, and headed towards the fridge to start cooking breakfast and-.

His coffee was forgotten on the counter and his boots and shirt were on in seconds.

If there were cattle up this far onto the property, it could only mean two things. The fence was down somewhere (or worse - cut again) and it had been all night.

He saddled Lyria and rode for what felt like miles before he found the section of fencing that had been, once again, cut clean through.

He cursed as he dismounted, carefully investigating the area. The box powering the fence had been shut down and all three of the conductive wires shredded through. Cassian sighed as he walked through the opening and looked down into the field where the cattle grazed.

There were six cows of varying sizes below.

“Damn it,” he breathed and headed back toward his cabin.

First things first, he had to fix the fence. It would do him no good to catch the missing herd, just for them to get loose again. Then he’d bring Beau down with him to herd them back into their pasture.

After repairing the fence and locating the herd, he found himself by the main house. And once again, that little red sports car was parked in front of her.

With a sigh, Cassian opened the back door and went inside. She was, once again, in the kitchen, but this time she was cleaning. The lemony scent of all-purpose cleaner hit Cassian as he shut the door behind him, more loudly than he should have. 

She peeked over her shoulder, observing him. “Nice to see you fully dressed yourself before gracing me today.”

Cassian chuckled. “Disappointed?”

She just shook her head, going back to cleaning the countertops. “Not at all.”

“Pity,” Cassian mumbled, pulling out a chair from the kitchen table and taking a seat, watching her every move. “Shirt can come off, again, just say the word.” 

“When you speak,” Nesta began, opening one of the top drawers and emptying its unnecessary contents into the garbage, “do you find yourself as annoying as I do?”

Cassian just grinned. “Look, I’ll leave you alone in a minute. Just thought you’d like to be updated on what’s been happening this morning. Also, do you drive from here to the house you’re staying in every time? Because...it’s really not that far. It’s perfectly walkable. Or, are you just afraid of getting your shoes dirty?”

Nesta stopped what she was doing and turned to face him, leaning back against the counter. “First of all, you’re an asshole, but I’m sure that’s not news to you. Secondly, did something happen this morning?”

Cassian watched her for a moment as he tied his hair back. “Some fencing had been cut along the far east pasture line.”

Nesta blinked. “Okay…”

“You don’t know what that means, do you?” he asked, humored. “You lived here for eighteen years before you left, did you not?”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “I assume you’re going to tell me, considering you like to hear yourself talk so much.”

“It means, sweetheart, that someone purposefully came onto our land and cut our electric fence, in hopes something would happen to those animals.”

Nesta asked, “You fixed it though?”

“Yes, but I-.”

“Great. Here’s the thing, Cassian,” she turned and continued cleaning. “As you’ve so kindly pointed out, I don’t know the first thing about ranch work. I also don’t care to. So as long as you keep the ranch running smoothly, I don’t need to know everything that goes on.”

Cassian was staring, but unlike yesterday, it wasn’t at the way her ass filled out the jean shorts she wore. It was in shock. “You don’t want to know what’s going on with the ranch?”

“Secondly,” she continued, not acknowledging he’d even spoken, “in regards to our land, I decided to take a look at the property boundaries. I’d like to add another building.”

“Another building? Nesta, there’s barely enough land for the cattle as it is.”

Ignoring him again, she pressed on. “While I was looking for them, the deeds for all three houses fell into my lap. You said you knew my father for a long time, right, Cassian? So surely you’d know how bad his procrastination was.”

His heart dropped into his stomach.

No, there was no way she was about to say what he thought she was.

“Why don’t you check that envelope on the table?”

Cassian reached for it with trembling fingers. When he opened it, he saw that it was the deed to his house, yes, but the bottom line, the line where the original owner’s name belonged…

It was blank.

“Looks like he never got around to going and getting it notarized,” Nesta said, pulling another drawer open. She found silverware inside, her mother’s priceless silver set from their wedding. It was tarnished and bent. She pulled it out and set it to the side, to clean it later on.

Cassian slowly folded up the letter and tossed it onto the table. “So, what? You’re going to kick me out of my house?”

“It’s my house,” Nesta clarified.

Cassian pushed back his chair with such force that Nesta almost flinched. “Let me see his will.”

Nesta turned to face him, meeting his eyes for the first time since he’d opened the envelope. “What?”

“I want to know exactly what he left to you. Shit, I’ll call his fucking lawyer. I’ve lived in that house for eight years, Nesta, taking care of this land like it's my land. You get rid of me, this whole operation goes to shit.” He was fuming, barely able to think clearly. His hands were shaking as he shoved them into his pockets. 

She, however, was the epitome of calm. “I didn’t say I was getting rid of you.”

Cassian’s jaw clenched. 

“I expect you, if you want, of course, to continue working here. Elain says you’re great at what you do and I trust her judgement. But, I do expect you to respect me as your boss, just like you did my father. You will do as I say, and no more meaningless flirtations.”

Cassian scoffed, loudly and humorlessly. “You think a little too highly of yourself, Sweetheart.”

“I will sign the log cabin to you and allow you to continue your and my father’s agreement if you agree to my terms,” she continued, as if manipulating him pleased her. “I want another building on the property, and I want you to build it.”

Cassian blinked, his anger turning back into shock. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

She fished around in a box before pulling out a small polishing rag. She went to work on the silverware. “You said you would do anything that needs to be done.”

“I’m a rancher, Nesta. And a handyman, at best,” he gestured around the kitchen. “I fixed your air conditioning, and I can do other things like that, but I can’t build an entire damn house.”

“Stable,” was all Nesta said.

“Excuse you?”

“A stable. I want a stable closer to the house.”

Cassian was stunned. “You...want a new stable?”

“Yes, the barn and stables down by the round pen are falling apart. I don’t think the horses are safe in there.”

“And you care because..?” He didn’t mean to sound like an ass, but everything he’d learn in the past eight years completely contradicted what she was telling him.

“Just because I didn’t care to learn how to ranch doesn’t mean I don’t love my horses.”

He blinked at her and he hesitated, but spoke. “I can...try. But like I said, I’ve never built anything like that before.”

She set the polishing cloth down and the one fork she’d been meticulously polishing during their entire conversation. “That’s fine. I’ve- I’ve never run a B&B before but here we are.”

“Have you been down to the old stables?” He asked, not accusingly, but curious. “Do you even know how many horses we have?”

“We had nine when I left,” she said, looking out the window. “And they were all fairly young. Theoretically, they could all still be alive. How many?”

“Eight. Sold one, lost one, and had one just appear out of nowhere.” He couldn’t read her tone. Couldn’t tell why she was asking.

“Who was sold?”

Cassian tread carefully, watching her. He stood and got a coffee mug from the cabinet, pouring a cup from the steaming pot on the counter. He took a drink and leaned back against the cabinet. “About three years ago, a girl and her parents stayed the night on the way to a rodeo in Cheyenne. She was a barrel racer and her horse was getting too old. She saw Hue out in the pasture and asked if she could ride her. They paid us cash before they left and Hue is a world champion barrel horse now.”

Nesta nodded, remembering exactly what she’d looked like, why Feyre had given her the name. Nesta had never been a fan of Paint horses, but it was no question that Feyre fell in love. “And the one who died?”

Cassian hesitated again and this time Nesta looked up. His hazel eyes were sad. “He was a great horse, Nes.”

Nesta looked away and tried to blink the tears away.

Phoenix.

“What happened?” she asked, nudging the fork with her finger.

“He just started to colic one day, we’re not exactly sure.” He crossed one booted foot in front of the other. “A day or two after the colic started, we had the doc come out and he said he was completely blocked. If we didn’t get him moving and get that block to pass, we were gonna lose him.” Cassian bumped his heel against the toe of his boot. His spurs jangled as he did. “He never got back to his feet. I’m sorry, Nesta.”

She sniffled and nodded, but refused to look up at him. “You should, uh, go do whatever it is you do now. I’ll talk to you in a bit. I’ll have lunch ready at 1:00, if you’re hungry.” She began to head towards the doorway leading to the living room.

He reached for her wrist. “Nesta, it’s-.”

“Leave,” she said, snatching her arm back. It was firm, but it wasn’t unkind, showing Cassian just how broken up over the news she was. Even more so when she added, “Please.”

She kept walking and was out of his sight as soon as she turned the corner into the living room.

He sighed, rubbing his hands down his face.

Today was nothing like he planned.

____________________________

Nesta spent her day working. After Cassian brought his unpleasant news, and she’d asked him to leave her alone, she didn’t see him. He made himself scarce for the remainder of the afternoon, and she no longer cared what he spent it doing, knowing full well he would make himself useful around the ranch.

Elain was right, he was a great rancher. 

It was why she was allowing him to keep his house on the land. He was right. If he were to leave, the entire ranch would go to complete shit. 

Phoenix lingered in the back of her mind all day, no matter how much she tried not to think about him. 

She finished polishing her mother’s fine silverware, pissed the entire time that her father had treated them like meaningless pieces of plastic. After that, she finished cleaning out the kitchen and was busy in the living room when Elain texted her.

Still on for tonight? We were thinking we could go to the old corner bar.

Nesta sighed. She wanted so desperately to say no, but Elain had missed her, and she had missed Elain. Besides, she’d given Nesta an entire house full of free furniture.

I’ll be there. What time?

8?

Ok. 

Nesta looked at the time. It was just after six. She could certainly use a shower. She hadn’t taken one since she’d arrived the morning before. Her water wasn’t turned on in her little house, but she was too stubborn to ask Cassian where the main was.

Especially after what had happened that morning.

She was tempted to text Elain and ask if she had invited him to dinner, but didn’t want it to seem like she cared.

Because she didn’t. 

Not one bit.

So instead, she bundled everything she would need to get ready into her suitcase and tossed it in her backseat, slamming the door a little harder than she probably needed to.

She mumbled something about ‘not wanting to get her shoes dirty’ as she climbed into the driver seat and started the car, heading up to the main house. She headed into the house and started up the stairs, heading for her old bathroom on the second floor. But she paused and smirked, turning and heading back down the hall, towards the master suite, which took up the bulk of the second floor.

As she walked through the house, she swore she heard the floor creaking upstairs, but knew how much noise this house made while she was growing up. She could only imagine how much it would creak in the middle of the night now.

As she took a quick shower, she pondered the idea of turning the B&B into a haunted mansion type of deal, because there was no way anyone was going to be able to sleep here if the house made as much noise at night as it did during the day. Ultimately, she knew she’d have to get someone out to check the foundation of the house and probably redo the floors at some point.

As she turned the water off and pondered all that she would have to do to fix this place up, she was thankful for her notoriety and success in the world of all things culinary. When she’d gotten the call about her father’s death, she’d been in Paris, talking to young culinary students how to properly chop for the different methods of cutting. His funeral had been planned so quickly that there was no time for her to even request to go. A few weeks later, when she’d received a call from his lawyer, telling her that he’d left her his dream, his baby, there was no question of what she needed to do.

Her three restaurants in Rome, New York, and Paris were all on the market in less than three days. Forty-five minutes later, she sold them to a single buyer for eighteen million dollars.

She’d sold her brand, her craft, everything.

She was thankful, because now she had the funds to do what she needed to save this place.

Stepping out of the shower, Nesta wrapped a towel around her wet body. She ran one through her dripping hair and combed through it. She yawned and checked her phone, finding it wasn’t even seven yet. If Nesta had any hope of staying awake after her long day of cleaning, she’d need to start drinking copious amounts of caffeine now.

She decided coffee didn’t sound half bad and decided to make a pot while she got ready.

Passing by the front door, she locked it, just in case somebody decided he wanted to visit again. She continued into the kitchen and put a pot on to brew.

There was something peaceful about a pot of coffee brewing. Nesta loved the little noises the machine made as it made her a pot of delicious energy filled goodness. 

As it did its job, Nesta turned to head back down the hall and up the stairs to the master bathroom. She was excited to meet Elain’s man. She had heard a lot about Azriel throughout the last few years, and Nesta wanted to meet this guy for herself.

The man that stole her sister's sweet, beautiful heart.

She wondered if Elain had asked Feyre and if so, if Feyre would show up.

Nesta wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t.

Nesta didn’t care if she didn’t.

Either way, Nesta had to admit that a night out would do her good. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had gone out or done anything for herself, other than work.

As the air conditioner kicked on, she was hit with a sudden chill and regretted only wearing a towel. She’d brought her outfit for the evening and didn’t want to put it on until she was ready to leave, but the clothes she’d worn earlier today were sweaty and gross.

She’d found her mother’s old clothes in one of the closets upstairs earlier and wondered if the floral robe she used to wear was there as well. Tightening her towel, she headed upstairs and was passing by the bathroom when the door opened up.

Nesta screamed and jumped backwards, Cassian stepping back similarly. He almost slipped on the damp tile but kept his footing.

As her breathing returned to normal, Nesta asked, “What in the hell are you doing here? You said you lived in the log cabin!”

“I do, but I got bucked off one of the mares and was covered in mud and shit.” He crossed his arms over his tattooed chest. “Why aren’t you down in your fancy, new house?”

She put her hands on her hips, standing her ground. “My water is off and someone hasn’t told me where the main shutoff is so I can turn it back on.”

Cassian lifted a brow. “Someone hasn’t asked.”

Nesta shook her head. “Get out. I have to get ready.”

Cassian made a show of his eyes grazing over her body, covered in only a towel. She had to force herself to not do the same to him. She was perfectly aware of the small, blue cotton towel that covered only a small portion of his massive frame. She was perfectly aware of how low that towel hung on his hips.

“Can I get dressed first?” He asked, voice quiet as his eyes met hers, once more.

The minute they did, she couldn’t look away. “If you must.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else, especially when his tongue peeked out to wet his bottom lip. But instead, he silently closed the door between them, and Nesta released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

She continued down to the study in the hall and to the closet where she’d found her mother’s clothes. It only took her a few seconds of searching before she found the thin, soft, blue and white fabric.

It felt just like she’d remembered.

Nesta dropped her towel and, after shaking it out, put the robe on, thankful that her father had been such an emotional sap and couldn’t get rid of anything of her mother’s.

Nesta’s mother was a beautiful woman, but Elain was shaped most like her. Her chest and hips were not nearly as full as Nesta’s, which made the short, modest robe her mother had worn around the house nearly obscene on Nesta. Nevertheless, she wore it, loving the feel of it on her skin.

She walked back down the stairs with her towel draped over her arm, finding the bathroom door open and the room empty, steam still fogging the mirror, and turned toward the kitchen to get her coffee. She found him already in there and she hesitated, but continued in.

“Nice robe,” he said, peering over his mug.

“Gotta date?” She shot back, eyeing his clean jeans and button down shirt. His feet were bare.

Cassian chuckled. “Not quite. Your sister asked me to dinner with her and Az.”

Nesta froze, just as she was about to start pouring her coffee.

“Judging from your reaction, I assume you’ll be there, too.”

Nesta sighed, continuing to pour her coffee before taking a sip. “You’d assume correctly.”

Cassian smiled - true and genuine. “Let me drive you. Save gas.”

Nesta didn’t reply. “Tell me about Azriel.”

Cassian's brows shot up. “What?”

“Tell me about him. Elain is sure he’s the one, so I want to know everything.”

Cassian slowly sat his mug down and ran a hand through his damp hair. “He’s a great guy. Caring. Loves Elain more than I ever thought he’d love anyone. We’ve known each other since we were kids. I’m surprised you don’t remember him from high school.”

Nesta’s gaze shot to his. “What?”

Cassian's brows rose. “He went to high school with us.”

With us. Nesta hesitated, and Cassian definitely noticed.

“Ah, I knew you didn’t remember. Doesn’t surprise me. Your nose was always stuck in a book. Everyone thought you were a complete bitch, by the way.”

Nesta sat down her mug with far too much force on the countertop. “You don’t know what the hell you're talking about.”

“Am I wrong?” Cassian asked, chuckling.

Nesta practically growled, “About which part?”

“Any of it.” He took a drink of his coffee.

Nesta was quiet for a few seconds, knowing she couldn’t contradict any of what he’d said.

No, she didn’t remember him.

Yes, her nose was always in a book.

Yes, she was a complete bitch.

Dropping the subject for another time, she instead asked, “What does he do?”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “Why can’t you ask Elain or Az these things at dinner?”

“Because I want prior knowledge going in. She mentioned something about a dealership last night? But also tractors?”

“New tractor dealership opened in town. He’s a mechanic there. He used to work for a local business, but they had to shut it down last year. You’ll come to find that most local businesses around here aren’t making it anymore,” he said.

Nesta looked around. She knew the B&B had been struggling for years, but her father had never given up on it.

“Well, I guess I’ll get ready, if you’ll excuse me,” Nesta said, taking her mug and walking toward the hallway.

“No more questions?” Cassian asked, and when Nesta looked over her shoulder she found him watching her walk away.

“Is he good to my sister?” Nesta asked.

She was surprised to see his eyes soften when he said, “Very.”

Nesta turned without another word and headed back to the master bedroom to finish getting ready.

A half hour later, her hair and makeup were done and she was shimmying herself into a tight pair of jeans, a black tank top, and a pair of tennis shoes. Cassian was still sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through his phone.

“I can drive myself, you know,” she muttered, putting her empty mug in the sink.

When she turned back around, his phone was ignored, all his attention was on her. A moment passed and he cleared his throat. “I realize that, but it’s never a bad idea to have a designated driver when you’re going to a bar.”

Nesta raised a brow. “You don’t drink?”

Cassian's grin widened. “I can just hold my alcohol.”

“And I can’t?” Nesta scoffed.

Cassian shrugged. “I don’t know, can you?”

Nesta took a minute to think about it. “Fine. There’s no point in both of us driving. Since I mean, we live together. Not together! But- Shit.” She sighed. “But we’re taking my car.”

He chuckled, but she could see the grin he was hiding, and got to his feet. “Like hell we are.”

They bickered the whole way to the door, which took longer than one would have expected. Nesta telling him she wasn’t riding in a dirty, beat up, old pickup and Cassian telling her to get the stick out of her ass and not worry about a little dirt.

As they stepped out onto the front porch, Nesta locking the door and hiding the key, she said, “These shoes were two hundred dollars, I’m not putting them anywhere near cow shit.”

Cassian just stared at her. “You own a cattle ranch.” Nesta hated it when he used logic and was going to tell him as much when he continued on and headed down the porch stairs. “And they’re just as likely to get dirty at the bar as they are out here. Now come on, this isn’t up for discussion. I can’t even fit in your tiny car.” He opened the passenger door and waited for him.

But Nesta was staring. Mouth open, not blinking, full on staring. “What is that?”

Cassian sighed. “It’s my truck, now get in, let’s go. It’s been a long ass day and I want a beer.”

This was not the truck Nesta was expecting to find out front. This definitely wasn’t the truck she’d seen him driving around the property. No, that truck had been on this property for as long as she could remember.

Nesta, stunned into silence, did as she was told. He had to help her up into the cab, and the second his hands were on her, she felt like the air had been pulled from her lungs.

“You okay?” Cassian asked, waiting as she turned her legs out of the way of the door.

Nesta nodded and he closed the door, heading to the driver’s side. She shook her head a couple times, trying to clear the fog in her head that always seemed to cloud her thoughts to when she was around him.

He started the truck, which was much quieter than Nesta was expecting and they were on their way.

It was quiet the first few minutes, only quiet music playing through the radio. Cassian kept time with the songs in multiple ways. Sometimes, he would brush his fingers along his jeans, almost like he was playing guitar. Sometimes, he’d tap the beat out with his non-driving foot. But mostly, he drummed on the steering wheel, often with his thumbs but occasionally, his whole hands.

Nesta just stared out the window. Finally, she turned to him and asked, “I’m sorry, if this comes off as rude, but how exactly were you able to buy this truck?” Cassian opened his mouth to reply but Nesta charged on. “Cause this is a very, very nice, very, very new truck.”

Cassian looked offended. “Definitely came off as rude.” Nesta rolled her eyes. “I-”

“I’m just kidding, relax,” Cassian said, laughing. “We just met, you can’t know all my secrets.” 

“Oh my god,” Nesta began, staring at him from the passenger seat. “It’s illegal, isn’t it? You’re a hit man, aren’t you? Or a thief, oh my-”

“I can promise you I don’t break the law,” Cassian promised, then winked. “Often.” 

Nesta shook her head. “You’re an interesting man.”

Cassian laughed. “Yeah, so are you. But, you know, a woman. By the way, we need to get you a pair of boots.”

Nesta looked down at her sneakers. “What’s wrong with these?”

“First of all, who the hell spends two hundred dollars on a pair of tennis shoes?” Cassian asked, then went on without giving her a chance to answer. “Secondly, must I continuously remind you that you now own a ranch?”

“I can be a ranch owner in my nice shoes.”

Cassian smiled as he turned into the parking lot of the bar. “But why the hell would you want to?”

She looked across the truck to his giant feet. He still wore his dusty boots. “Maybe you’re the one that needs new shoes. How long have you had those? They’re practically falling apart.” 

“We’re not talking about me here, okay? We’re talking about you.” He hopped out of the truck before Nesta could respond and as quick as a flash, he was opening her door for her and helping her down from the cab. “And I’m pretty sure as soon as we go inside, you’ll see that I’m not exactly in the minority here, sweetheart.”

When he put her feet down on the ground, he kept his arms around her for a second and Nesta groaned in disgust and pushed back against his chest.

His rock hard, muscled chest.

He stepped back and as Nesta looked up into his hazel eyes, she tried not to think about the two times she’s seen him without his shirt, and the one with almost nothing. She cleared her throat and looked away. She started heading for the door and said, “So, heads up this could be...rough.”

Cassian caught up, sliding his hands in his pockets, after locking the truck behind them. “Okay?”

“I’m sure Elain invited Feyre, though I don’t know if she’ll come.” Nesta paused, realizing just how much anxiety she was feeling on walking through those peeling double doors. “She hates confrontation just as much as I do.”

Cassian was confused. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t she come?”

Nesta sighed, stopping before they got too close to the doors. “Feyre and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms, okay? She’s never forgiven me for leaving when mom died and I’ve never exactly given her a reason to, but… Gods, I just couldn’t stay here anymore.”

“It’s going to be fine,” Cassian said, leaning against the brick wall. “Rhys will be here, and I’m sure he can calm her down.”

“Who’s Rhys?” Nesta asked, glancing over at him.

His eyebrows nearly shot into his hairline. “Her fiancé…”

“Her fiancé?” Nesta rubbed her temples. “I need a drink.”

She felt calloused hands wrap around her wrists and they were pulled from her head. Cass dropped her hands at her sides and said “It’s a good thing we’re at a bar then because I think I can help with that.” Despite herself, Nesta laughed. “Come on, boss. Let’s go.”

Her nose wrinkled as they started walking into the bar together. “Oh, don’t call me that. I don’t like it.”

Cassian snorted. “You sure? I would’ve thought the subservient inferior thing would do it for you.”

Nesta threw her head back and laughed, the sound so rich and beautiful, it stunned Cassian into silence for a moment.

“Cassian!”

His head whipped to the side, toward the bartender who’d called his name. “What’s up, Luce?”

He pointed toward the far corner of the bar. “In the back, corner booth. You want the usual?”

Cassian glanced down at Nesta. She asked, “What’s the usual?”

He smirked. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”

She didn’t miss a beat before she tilted her head and said, “Make mine a double.”

Cassian’s eyebrows raised again and he said, “Okay. I’ll see you at the table.”

“Okay.” Nesta walked towards the back corner that the bartender, Lucien, she recalled his name being, letting her hips sway a little more than she typically would. But this banter, this back and forth with Cassian... It made her feel...different.

It had been far too long since she’d been with a man. Far too long since she’d found release in anything but her hand or some form of plastic. And even though he annoyed her to no end, even though he pushed her buttons and made her insane, Nesta found herself wondering just how far she could push him.

She was thinking about how good he’d looked wearing nothing but jeans and those dirty boots when someone stepped in her path. “Excuse me, if I could just-.” Nesta paused, realizing that she was looking into her own eyes. “Feyre?

A decade had done her baby sister well. She had grown up, that was for sure, a woman now, not the awkward teenager Nesta had left behind.

Feyre didn’t say anything, didn’t smile or even react to her eldest sister saying her name. Instead, she pulled back her hand.

Next thing Nesta knew, her face was screaming in sharp, searing pain. Strong arms wrapped around her and turned her away from her sister’s rage but her voice seemed to be farther away, too. Granted, the entire bar went silent at the sound of skin on skin, and when Nesta looked up, tears welling in her left eye, she found Cassian looking down at her. “You okay?”

She nodded, pressing her hand to her already swelling cheek. She could hear another hushed male voice calming Feyre down but couldn’t find the courage to look away from Cassian’s hazel eyes.

Cassian let her go and turned his back to her. His voice was light as he said, “A simple hello would have been good, Feyre.”

Nesta watched over his shoulder.

Feyre was storming away, and all that stood in her place was a man who Nesta assumed was Rhys. 

He looked uncomfortable, rubbing the back of his neck. “She, uh, needs a minute.”

Meanwhile, at the table in the corner, Elain looked horrified. She was sitting, hands over her mouth, as a man wearing a black hoodie and a baggy beanie whispered into her ear. 

Nesta was mortified.

Even as the people around her moved on, resuming their conversations and whatever else, Nesta knew her face had turned a deep shade of red - and not just where Feyre had slapped her. 

“This was a mistake,” she whispered, backing away. “Take me back to the ranch.”

Cassian turned to meet her gaze and Rhys followed Feyre into the hallway where the restrooms were, both of them disappearing. 

“Stay a while,” Cassian said, voice low. 

“After that?” Nesta laughed, palm still pressed against her cheek. “Fuck, no. Take me back.”

“Not before you have a drink.”

Nesta’s embarrassment was quickly turning into anger. “Take. Me. Back.”

Cassian paid her no mind. Instead, he went around her and spoke in hushed tones to Lucien. The bartender nodded, poured two shots and placed them beside what Cassian had previously ordered - the usual. 

Before Cassian could even say a word, Nesta had two shots down and was sipping on a tall glass of whiskey. 

Cassian watched with what looked like amazement. “Slow d-”

“Tell me to slow down and you’re the next person in this bar getting slapped,” Nesta snapped, sitting on a barstool. 

Cassian took a seat next to her. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“I can’t believe she fucking slapped me,” Nesta said, quietly, head already beginning to feel light. She didn’t drink much, just a glass of wine from time to time. She spent too much time working to drink. “I knew she wouldn’t be exactly pleased to see me, but…”

“When she comes back, I’m sure she’ll apologize,” Cassian promised, putting his own glass to his lips. 

“I don’t want an apology,” Nesta said.

Cassian shook his head. “I know we’ve just met, but you are one stubborn woman.”

Nesta was so focused on her drink that she didn’t notice Elain coming toward her. It wasn’t until her arms were thrown around Nesta’s neck that she put her glass down on the bar.

“I’m so glad you came,” she said, obviously trying to pretend like their family drama hadn’t just been the bar’s entertainment. “This is Azriel.”

Nesta smiled, taking in his dark apparel. “You don’t look like someone that would work on tractors.” A laugh sputtered from her lips.

Cassian looked from her, to her glass, then to Elain. “She wasn’t kidding. She really can’t hold her liquor.” 

Azriel just smiled, gently. “Not the first time I’ve heard. Elain’s told me a lot about you.”

Nesta leaned closer to him when she whispered, “And Cassian has told me a lot about you.”

“Oh no,” Azriel chuckled, looking to Cassian. “All good things I hope?”

Cassian shrugged. “Keep hoping.”

About that time, a door slammed on the other half of the bar. The four of them turned to see Feyre storm from the bathroom, grab her purse from the booth and walk out the front door. She didn’t so much as spare a glance at their direction.

“Oof,” Azriel breathed, watching the door slowly close behind Feyre’s retreating figure. He then glanced over to see Rhysand leaving the bathroom, rubbing his hands over his face in exasperation. “Bigger oof.”

Rhy looked at the table and found it empty, but glanced over and found their group looking towards him. He made his way through the crowd until he joined them.

As he approached, a shot glass appeared next to Azriel’s arm and he handed it to Rhys after throwing a grateful look to Lucien. Rhys tossed it back and let out a sharp breath. He pointed at Cass, Az and Elain with each word he said. “Not one of you assholes could at least warn me that she was coming?”

Nesta understood his frustrations, but the alcohol in her had her too far gone to care. “What? How am I the bad guy here?”

Elain looked sympathetically at Nesta as she said, “If we did, Feyre wouldn’t have come and you know it.”

“Wow,” Nesta said, cutting off whatever Rhysand was about to say in response. “You sure know how to make a girl feel welcome.”

“Well, Feyre’s pissed now, so...” Rhysand sighed, then truly looked at Nesta. 

Nesta couldn’t tell what he was thinking and, thanks to the alcohol, she really didn’t care. “Look, you hurry after her and tell her that I love her. Okay? Then...you can come back and get me another drink. Bartender!”

“Okay,” Cassian said, looking over his shoulder to shake his head at Lucien. “I think you-.” When Cassian looked back to Nesta, she had finished off his drink. “Seriously?”

“Also, who the fuck does Feyre think she is? I mean...she isn’t perfect, either. She hates me, so what? She’s not the only one that ha-ha-hates me. I hate me. I had to get out. I had to leave, okay? I had to go. It’s-it’s-it’s not my fault she doesn’t understand that.” Nesta was pointing to where Feyre had disappeared through the double doors, into the night. “I had to leave. I had to.”

Elain looked up to Azriel with sorrow-filled brown eyes. 

Nesta snorted. “Cassian.” She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close to her. “Get the red-haired man to give me another glass of the usual.” 

All of Rhysand’s frustration seemed to have faded as he watched Nesta allow the alcohol to consume her. “Look, I’ll talk to Feyre, okay? Maybe we can get together...soon…”

Nesta shrugged. “She won’t listen. She’s almost as stubborn as me. You know, people have always said we both take after our mo-.” Nesta froze, unable to get the word out. She cleared her throat, picking up the glass behind her that had just been refilled. “Our mom.”

With that, she downed its contents. 

Cassian handed her a glass of water and stepped in front of her and she sipped it. He leaned down so he was eye level with her. “You okay?” She nodded. “You gonna get sick?” She shook her head no. “Good.”

He took the now half empty glass of water and set it back on the bar, before unceremoniously tossing Nesta over his shoulder. He grabbed her clutch where it was sitting on the bar and waved it at his family. “Glad we could do this, can’t wait to get everyone back together again.”

“Put. Me. Down!” Each word Nesta hollered was punctuated by a swift hit to his lower back. Or was it his ass? She couldn’t tell, nor did she care.

“Lucien, I’ll get you next time, okay?”

Cassian didn’t even need to look back over his shoulder to see his friend close out his tab at a zero balance and wrote his name on the long IOU list.

He pushed through the open doors and Nesta was still fighting him as he carried her towards the truck. “Put me down, you brute!”

“Nope, I’m doing you like you asked first. Taking you back to the ranch.” He readjusted his grip on her and his left hand planted firmly on her ass.

She gasped. “You did that on purpose.”

Cassian chuckled. “Made you stop fighting me.”

He unlocked the passenger door and dropped her on the truck bench. He tossed her clutch inside before shutting the door and walking to the driver’s side. As he was getting inside, Nesta locked eyes with Feyre, who was sitting on the bed of a black truck, parked a few spaces away. 

Waiting for Rhysand, no doubt.

But Rhysand was not the reason that Feyre’s cheeks were red and blotchy, her eyes swollen. 

Nesta quickly looked away as Cassian backed out of their parking spot and found the main road. 

“That was fun,” Cassian observed. 

Nesta looked over at him, watched as he kept one hand on the wheel and rested the other on the gear shift. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, revealing tattoos along his forearms. 

“Do they have meaning?” Nesta asked, surprised at how quiet her voice had become.

Cassian glanced at her, brow raised, before realizing she was looking at his tattoos. “Some of them, yeah.”

“Let me guess, you’re not going to tell me because I can’t know all your secrets?” She asked, repeating the excuse he had told her so many times throughout the last forty-eight hours.

Cassian huffed a laugh, biting on his bottom lip. “Look at you, already knowing what I’m going to say.”

Nesta laughed, under her breath, as she looked at the road in front of them. There had been a time when Nesta had loved Velaris, had loved all it had to offer. She rested her head against the window and admired the starlight. 

“What about you?” Nesta asked, refusing to look his way. “Do you think I’m a bitch?”

“I think you’re….” He weighed a few words in his head, deciding which one fit best. “Difficult.”

“Difficult?” Nesta laughed. “You make me sound like a misbehaving child!”

“Well…” Cassian said, taking a sharp breath between his teeth.

“Shut up!” Nesta cried, laughing again, covering her face with her hands.

The truck stopped and settled as Cassian put it into park. A calloused finger gently pried one of her hands from her face. “Are you okay?”

Nesta knew he wasn’t asking her about her alcohol tolerance level this time. She pulled her hand away, which had still been resting on her throbbing cheek, and pressed her fingers into the tender skin. She nodded.

“I’m sorry that happened. I really am.”

She looked over at him, his voice much closer than she expected. She didn’t recognize the surroundings around her. “Where are we?”

“Outside my place. I knew the freezer was out at the main house and didn’t know what you had in yours. I know I’ve got a bag of peas inside I was gonna grab and-.”

Nesta was unbuckling her seatbelt and sliding out of the cab.

“I was just gonna grab them and take you back up to the main house,” Cassian said, killing the engine and hopping out behind her.

“I want to see it,” Nesta said, walking toward the porch. “I’ve always thought it was cute.” She stepped in something slimy and looked down. “Are you kidding me?!”

Cassian walked over to where she was standing and laughed. He laughed harder than he had in months and said, “Now do you believe we should get you some boots?” Nesta didn’t say a word, she just scraped what she could off into the grass around her. Cassian made his way up the steps of the cabin and said, “Besides, that wasn’t from a horse. That was from Beau.”

Nesta asked, “Who’s Beau?” right as Cassian opened the door.

A Blue Heeler pup, no older than six months came tearing out the door.

Nesta instantly forgot about her shoes as the pup jumped up on her legs. 

Cassian whistled. “Down, Beau.”

“It’s okay,” Nesta laughed, scratching behind his ears. “He’s sweet.”

Beau wagged his tail, knowing full well he was showing off and his cuteness was being accepted. The pup trotted around Nesta as she crossed the threshold into the small cabin.

Cassian tossed his keys on a side table, next to a recliner in the main room. “I’m training him to help me around the ranch.” 

Nesta raised a brow as Beau hurried out the front door. “Yeah? How’s that going?”

Cassian closed the screen door as he watched Beau chasing his tail at the bottom of the steps. “Not great so far.” 

Nesta laughed, stepping up beside him. “Thanks for driving me tonight. Even if you hauling me out of the bar was completely unnecessary….I would have done something I’d regret if I stayed.”

Cassian glanced sideways at her before turning to face her, head on. “Starting to sober up, are you?”

Nesta snorted. “I’m fine. My head is just a little...light.”

“Ah,” Cassian grinned. “The light phase.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, realizing how close they were standing to one another before taking a step back.

“So,” Cassian said, running his fingers through his hair. “You’re inside. What do you think?”

It was simple. Clean.

There was a woven blanket tossed over the recliner in the living room, but that, a soft leather couch, the side table, and the television sitting on top of a little table, were all that were in there. There was no table in the kitchen, but a refrigerator, a microwave, and an oven. 

“It’s nice,” she said, quietly.

Cassian laughed. “I’m not sure I believe you. Take a seat.”

He nodded toward the recliner and Nesta obeyed as Cassian went into the kitchen and opened the freezer, pulling out a sealed bag of frozen peas.

Nesta had made herself comfortable by the time he reached her and placed the bag gently over her cheek. “I know it was shitty what she did, but Feyre has one hell of a slap.” 

Nesta nudged him in the shin with her foot.

He chuckled and made his way back towards the kitchen. Nesta took a minute to lean back and close her eyes. She heard the opening and closing of a few cupboards and some ice cubes tinkling in glasses. She heard tiny hard pieces of food getting poured into a bowl. She heard his boots, heavy on the wood floor, as he made his way to the door and whistled once. The dog was inside in a matter of seconds and chowing down on his dinner. And then she heard a thud near her head.

Her eyes flew open as she looked over where the noise came from.

“I don’t think I can handle another usual,” she admitted, sheepishly.

He chuckled, leaning against the counter top bar. “I can promise you’ll like that better than the one at the bar. Try it.”

Nesta hesitantly picked it up and sniffed. It smelled sweet. “What is it?”

“Try it, sweetheart, and then I’ll tell you.” He took a large drink from his own glass, which seemed to be the same thing she was drinking. She watched him for a minute, eyes narrowed. “What?” He laughed, chewing on an ice cube.

She looked from him to the drink and back. “Waiting to make sure you aren’t about drop dead from whatever poison you were trying to sneak to me.”

Cassian began to laugh. No, not only laugh. He began to howl. He was laughing so hard, Beau began to howl along with him. Nesta’s eyes were huge by the time he calmed down and could speak to her.

“Just try it, damn it,” he said, before helping himself to more of his own. 

Nesta took a small, hesitant sip. The cool liquid was definitely sweeter than the usual at the bar.

“Maple bourbon,” Cassian muttered, finishing his glass and setting it on the table before sitting on the floor across from the recliner. 

Nesta took another sip. “It’s good.”

“I know,” Cassian said, smiling up at her.

They watched each other for a moment, and Nesta soon became uncomfortable at his gaze. Not because she feared him, but because she didn’t fear him at all. 

“I’m sorry about this morning. I was unfair to you.”

Cassian’s brows rose. “You’re just saying that because you’re drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“Neither am I,” he said, but his voice had grown significantly softer. 

Their eyes still remained connected to one another’s. 

Nesta swore she could hear his deep, unsteady breaths, as she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “I should probably go.”

She looked over and couldn’t read the expression on his face. She set the bag down, giving him her attention. “Or...you could stay and have another drink with me.” Nesta opened her mouth to explain why that was a bad idea but he held up a finger and began again. “Not because I’m trying to get in your pants, but because I think it’ll be easier for us to open up this way. No holds barred, yeah? No secrets, for the most part, just two coworkers getting to know each other.”

Nesta watched him, waited, and asked, “For the most part?”

Cassian smiled, a wicked grin, and said, “See, that’s where the drinking comes in. You don’t have to answer, but then you have to drink.”

She blinked at him. “So we’re playing ‘Twenty Questions’?”

Cassian stood, taking her glass with a huff, and saying, “Well, now it doesn’t sound as cool, does it?”

Nesta giggled, actually giggled, as he filled their glasses back to the top and gave Nesta a straw. He reached out to hand it back to her, but took it back at the last minute. She flinched and looked up at him. “No half ass girly sips,” he said, hazel eyes sparkling. “It better count.”

She snatched the glass from him and he laughed, sitting back down against the wall. He whistled once and instantly Beau was there against his side.

Nesta’s eyebrows were raised. “I’m impressed,” she said, not hiding her amusement.

He rubbed the pup’s side lovingly. “He’s a good one, that’s for sure.” He pulled his boots off one at a time and tossed them by the door, each with a loud thud. Once he’d finally settled in, he waved to her. “Ladies first.”

Nesta took a minute to think about it. “How old are you?”

Cassian blinked. “That’s the worst question, ever.”

Nesta threw her hands in the air. “Well, I thought I’d start with something simple.”

Cassian laughed, leaning his head back. “Alright. Twenty-seven.”

“Me too,” Nesta said.

“I know. We were in the same graduating class.”

Nesta cursed. She kept forgetting they went to the same high school. 

“Your turn,” she urged.

“Hmmmm,” he said, pretending to think a lot harder than he actually was. “Are you happy to be back on the ranch?”

For a split second, Nesta thought about taking a drink, but she came to the conclusion that the question really wasn’t all that bad. “Kinda.”

“That’s it?” he laughed. “Kinda?”

“You didn’t say I had to give extensive answers,” she laughed.

Cassian shook his head. “Well, now I am. New rule.”

“You can’t just add rules.”

“I can do whatever the fuck I want,” he said, leaning back on his hands as Beau nestled himself in Cassian’s lap.

Nesta pursed her lips, rethinking that drink, but decided to attempt to explain herself. “The only reason I haven’t wanted to be here is because of the memories. And I’m really hoping that I can…make new memories to replace the bad ones.”

In the end, she did take a drink, but out of fortification, not punishment. Cassian saw that and accepted her answer, not wanting to push her. She blew a quick breath out before asking, “You said you’d been working for my dad for eight years, yeah?” Cassian nodded, even though that clearly couldn’t have just been the question. “What did you do the year between graduation and starting here?”

“Tried my hand at the professional rodeo circuit.” Cassian didn’t miss a beat.

It took Nesta back. “Really? What’d you do? Bull riding?”

“Hell no,” Cassian laughed. “I wasn’t that stupid. Well, no, I was that stupid. I was just too big. You gotta be little to ride bulls. No, I was a team roper.”

“Wow.” Nesta was watching Cassian with her head tilted, almost looking at him in a new light. “Header or heeler?”

“Header,” he replied, pretending to throw the rope at the horns. “Rhys was my heeler. We were good. Won every PRCA Jr. rodeo event in our areas. So we figured it’d be nothing to make that jump up with the big dogs.” He chuckled. “We were so wrong.” He took a quick sip before saying, “The day we got back into town I ran into your dad down at Tractor Supply. Told me he needed a ranch hand to help out since Elain had college every day and Feyre was still in high school.” Cassian chuckled. “He actually hired both of us on at first, me and Rhys. He only lasted about three months though.” He began to laugh again.

“What? Why?” Nesta couldn’t imagine her father firing anyone, much less someone she had gone to school with.

“That was when he caught him sneaking out of Feyre’s window at two in the morning.”

Nesta’s eyes grew wide before she began to howl. “Oh my god. Elain forgot to mention that in our texts throughout the years.”

Cassian laughed, gripping his glass tighter. “It was hilarious. I let your dad know I was on his side, and I proved that by picking on Rhysand every chance I got.”

“Wow,” Nesta breathed, laughter fading. “And you’ve been here ever since?”

“That’s an extra question,” he said. “Unfair.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Fine. Go.”

Cassian’s eyes softened as he met her gaze. “Elain said you were a chef. Did you like it? Was it hard to leave?”

Nesta tilted her head. “That’s two questions.”

“Pretend it’s one,” Cassian said.

Nesta looked at him for a minute before taking a long, slow drink. What could she have said? Yes, I loved it. It was my dream. I was young, incredibly successful, and rich as hell. I left because I felt guilty for the death of my parents.

Cassian nodded, watching her. “Fair enough.”

Nesta cleared her throat before abruptly asking, “Do you have a girlfriend?”

Cassian’s amused smile returned.

Nesta shrugged. “I’ve seen you near-nude twice now, it’s a question, as your boss, I thought I should ask.”

Cassian’s smile grew as he shook his head. “No, I don’t. Not a lot of time for one. Haven’t really been looking. What about you? Someone overseas you were seeing?”

Nesta looked down at Beau, who was snoring quietly. “Is that your next question?”

Cassian sighed. “I suppose so.”

Nesta shook her head. “No. I worked too much. I haven’t been on a date in...shit. A few years?”

“Years?” Cassian said, eyes wide. “Hell, woman. You couldn’t take one night off from your busy schedule in years?”

She simply shrugged. “No.”

Cassian took a drink, watching her. “When’s the last time someone took care of you, sweetheart?”

As the words left his lips, Nesta was feeling hot and cold all over, all at the same time. And she didn’t think it was just from her drink. “It’s not your turn,” she breathed.

He swallowed hard and nodded, chuckling. “Go on, then.”

She took another drink of her own, before she asked, “How did you afford that truck out there.”

Cassian didn’t even try to look like he contemplated answering as he put the glass to his lips and drank deeply. “But I promise it’s not illegal,” he added with a chuckle. Nesta could hear the slight slur to his words, making the bit of drawl heavier than normal. “Do you really not remember me from high school?”

Nesta felt her shoulders sag. “No, I- I don’t. I’m sorry. But don’t feel bad,” she quickly added. “I sort of blocked everyone out and don’t remember anyone. So at least I don’t remember you, instead of remembering you for a bad reason.”

Cassian nodded, amused. “Well, I remember you.”

Her cheeks burned. “It’s my turn to ask a question.”

“I can’t talk in between questions?” He laughed.

Nesta shook her head. “Nope, that’s my rule.”

Cassian took a sip from his glass. “Rules were made to be broken, you know.”

Nesta couldn’t stop her smile. “What do your tattoos mean?”

Cassian rolled up his sleeves even further and examined the ink. “A lot of things.”

“Bad answer,” Nesta said, slipping off her shoes and bringing her feet up beneath her in the chair.

Cassian nodded. “Then I guess I’ll drink.” He raised his glass before bringing it to his mouth. 

“And here I thought we were playing this game to get to know each other,” Nesta laughed.

“Can’t give you-“

“All your secrets,” Nesta finished. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Do you have any tattoos?” He asked.

“What?” She laughed. “So you can know mine but I can’t know yours?”

His eyes lit up. They were glazed, but so excited. “So you do. What are they?”

Nesta took a sip, but because she was copping out, but because as the night went on, as the ice melted into the sweet bourbon, she loved the taste of it. “It’s just one,” she said, standing. She began to unbutton her pants and she heard Cassian swallow harshly. She looked up at him. “Down boy,” she chuckled. “It’s on my hip. I can’t exactly show with my pants all the way on.”

He cleared his throat and stood, refilling his glass. When he came back to the threadbare living room, Nesta had the left side of her jeans pulled down, exposing her hip bone. As he looked at it, Nesta explained, “It’s a dandelion. To remind myself that everyone, even I deserve a second chance, even though you might have to endure some harsh winds.”

When she looked away from her tattoo, she caught sight of the way his jeans seemed to be a bit more tight than they were before. Letting her eyes travel up his body, she saw the  way his body was rigid, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. His eyes, that woody hazel that she kept losing herself in, it was almost completely gone, his pupils blown out. “Your turn,” he breathed, and as his breath fanned across her face, she realized how closely they stood together.

Nesta’s breathing hitched as her entire body felt weightless.

His words from before replayed in her mind. When’s the last time someone took care of you, sweetheart?

“If given the chance,” she began, voice hushed, “would you fuck me?”

The question, asked in no more than a whisper, lingered in the quiet cabin.

Cassian said nothing as those deep, hazel eyes bore into her own. And then, he took a long, slow drink, before setting down his glass on the table beside her chair.

Breaking his gaze from hers, he went down the short hallway and disappeared into the back bedroom.

Nesta stared after him. She probably should have been embarrassed, but the alcohol coursing through her system told her not to be.

Instead, jeans still unbuttoned, she took an unbalanced step toward the front door, then another.

It wasn’t until she heard quick, heavy footsteps coming back her way that she turned around and was met with Cassian’s lips crashing into her own.

[writingsofmyimagination]

Conjecture |13| The Final

Idol Reader Au, Enemies to Lovers AU

Summary: Your management refused to renew your contract unless you collaborated, so you ending up working with Min Yoongi. A guy you’d disliked from before both of your debuts. There is more to their past than meets the eye.

Links to other parts:  | 1 |  2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |11|12|

Last Chapter guys.... thank you for everyone that has liked and commented.... it means an awful lot. :)

Hope you guys have enjoyed the series.

Words:3304

Rating:18+

Warnings: SMUT!! (Slight exhibitionism maybe) Swearing. General sass.

Permanent Tags: @msunnsstuff  @rosey-roseu @eyelessmin @backtonormalthings

Reblog, Like, Comment

The leather straps were cooling across your chest; just as the strap was tight across your hips. You struggled, the buckles keeping you firmly stuck to the table. The white lights quietly warming the rest of your bare exposed skin. Your obliques teasing their way to the surface as you wriggled against your restraints. Cut here scissor lines decorated across the most common places women dislike about themselves. Crescents at your side, inner thighs, cupping your breast. Two figures hovering over you, crazed hunger filled looks scanning your being.

Lee Jooheon was stood over you in pale blue scrubs beneath a pearly white lab coat littered with scruffy black writing. He was stood menacing in the wielding of a scalpel while conversing animatedly with the person next to him. Im Changkyun was dressed to the brim in a perfectly fitted black suit wielding a clipboard with a picture of a barbie on. IM was shoving his fingers to the picture and then to you. Jooheon nodding intently in agreeance, scalpel still active in the air.

“CUT!” The director called. A bell vibrating round the warehouse. Jooheon immediately tearing the Velcro under the fake buckles and rushing to reach under the table for the large white dressing gown placed discreetly under the table. The basic black lace lingerie set was the only thing covering you as you hauled yourself off the table before coating yourself in white fluff.

“You good?” Changkyun asked lightly supporting you to your feet.

“All good” you affirmed.

“That was great guys, a clear cut. Scene done in one. We’ll get the stage set up and do the combined verse and Y/N’s solo then we’ll call it a day” The director confirmed. All you heard was

Break time

The three of you b-lined straight for the snack table. The crew around you slowly setting down their equipment to follow suit. A mini swarm of black tee’d crew descended onto the set working quickly to dismantle the makeshift operating room and prepare the next set.

“Glad I can finally put some clothes on” selecting the bag of wotsits crinkling over your words.

“Never thought I’d hear you say that” Yoongi’s voice creeped in from behind. The other two chuckled into their mouthfuls of carbs. Without even eyeing him your trajectory already planned to slap his arm on your rotation round. The Acne studios hat comfy on his head, the blue grey hair pressed to his forehead. Long black sweater draped over loose wash out ripped jeans which were tucked into hi top vans.

There’s a comfy boyfriend right there

“Never thought I’d see you conscious before lunch on a day off” you quipped back.

“Alright… it’s too early for your sass” Yoongi said in defeat to your ear, his arms encasing the shield of fluff around you with the sweet extra of a kiss to the forehead. His camera gentle in sway to your hip, the leather strap resting on his shoulder.

“Loved the set though” he added

More like loved the fact I was strapped down

“I’m literally kidnapping this Dr’s coat” Jooheon flicked the collar up of the coat.

Dweeb

“It’s such a cool concept” Jooheon added

“More female artists need to be speaking out about the image pressures companies force” Changkyun piped up.

“It’s 2020 dude, guys can write about it too you know” you teased

“There’s ten times more pressure on you guys though”

He was right. Your concept was the bomb though. You and your image held hostage by the agency only for you to rebel against them all accompanied by some aggressive thought-provoking rap.

What more does a girl want?

“And we’re here doing this project with you so we technically are” Changkyun added.

Also true

“You also know I wouldn’t have you let say no” One of the runners dropped your outfit off to you. You both exchanged silent polite glances.

Mid conversation you held no reservations, untying your robe. It slid off your shoulders Yoongi saving it from the floor. You shrugged on the tight-fitting scrub top. The top conveniently had slits through the fabric. Making its function as a top dubious at best. The shorts were free from any intentional rips and were nice and basic. Yoongi’s eyes flitted briefly to the ground, gaze not sure where to settle. You were still getting used the fact he wasn’t as comfortable with your skin on show as you were. Multiple times you’d teased him at how awkward and polite he still was when you were actually his.

//

“Are you sure you just didn’t want an opportunity to tie your two favourite rappers to a chair? Beside me of course” Yoongi teased as your reflection stared back at you in the mirror, mouth agape hand delicate finishing a perfect cat flick on your eyeliner.

“Jealous?” You paused the application of your makeup while teasing, the flicks won’t be ruined for anybody. Eye contact cheekily held in place.

He leaned in just a tad, enough to make his words inaudible to the fanfare around.

“Babe, you know I wish it was me. Just at home, with less clothes. You in that set I love, ooo and the way you love to ride me like that…” You shoved him away.

“Alright alright enough, don’t tease. Go over there and behave” You indicated with your pinky finger behind the camera. Puckering your blood red lipstick equally, crew swift in moving out of your way as you stepped up onto the newly built mini stage.

A lonely microphone on the small rectangular stage was all to keep you company. The two boys looking calm, jovial in their conversation to each other as you adjusted the stand to your height. Yoongi trying to shield a half-cocked smile. You flipped him off. He always liked to tease your height.

He’s not even got much on me, cheeky shit

“Ready on set!” The director boomed. Crew obedient falling silently in a heartbeat.

“Action!”

The strongly worded verse and chorus were the first lyrics you’d scribbled down in some painful PR meeting. The topic of you and your body image and how they wanted to sell it was just slowly infuriating you. You were an Idol, rapper whatever people called you now. This shit comes with the territory but the way they guy was talking about you just ruffled about every damn feather in your being.

The bell rang again and the major scuffling on set commenced. You jumped off the stage and raced to Chloe who’d returned from taking Ted for a walk. Completely bypassing Yoongi, dropping to your knees and ruffling the ball of excited fluff.

“Hey boy” you cooed, scratching the belly after the desperate drop and roll he gave you.

“Dude he wanted to play with evvveerryyyone today”

“Well he was probably excited to hang out with auntie Chlo”

“You love him” you added

“I can’t even lie about that; can your assistant be on holiday more often?” His attention quickly became focused

“You would get me into soo much trouble if you were my assistant”

“But you’d have the best time” The pair of you laughed knowing she was absolutely right.

“I’ll catch you in a bit” Giving Ted once last squeeze before you went to makeup.

All paint removed; hair now styled to perfection. Makeup fairly natural and light, the artist dabbing a pad around your cheeks catching any moisture. Heavily ripped boyfriend jeans sat at your hips finishing just at the lower end of your calves. Pristine snug white trainers cushioned the weariness of your feet. You had to change your underwear to a white set as to not show through the thin white tie up crop top. You secured the tie at your chest, even Yoongi would have to work at undoing the knot.

“Ready?” the director popped his head round the door. You responded with a bright mumble as you were mid swig of your water bottle.

“Sweet, we rolling in three”

“Seriously, how did I land you?” Yoongi purred making his way into the office converted dressing room. The artist leaving the room promptly.

“Looks good right” You agreed, puckering your lips in the mirror.

“Mmmhhhmm” he growled low at your neck; hands secured round the front of your stomach. The warm body pressed up against you.

“I love when you dress more casual” His fingertips elegant in their tip toe over your curved behind, etching their impatient way to the tie in the centre of your chest.

“Oi! Keep your hands to yourself” A weak willed play fight broke out. Yoongi going straight for where you were ticklish; leaving you completely vulnerable to him manoeuvring you round to face him.

“Careful Min Yoongi, don’t be getting yourself worked up for something you can’t have”

“Can’t have?” If stroppy pouts could melt you, you’d be in a puddle right now.

“Last I remembered you invited the boys round to mine for a recording sesh” Your stroke on his chin phased his eyes to roll regrettably.

“Pretty sure you regret giving Hobi the key now ey?” you crept the words in his ear, pressing your hand to his crotch. His cheeks puffed up, sulking against your smirk poorly disguised through your mouthfuls of water leaving the pouty boy in the dressing room.

The pout was a constant tell as much as he tried to hide behind the lenses capturing the formidable stage unit the three of you formed. The multiple takes had a thin layer of perspiration gracing the foundation on your skin. The second the final bell rang through the metal interior the three of you took a breath, or several before you bowed to all the staff before embracing the two guys. The make-up artist rushed over to where you’d sat drooping your legs on the temporary stage, padding at your face. You shooed her off prematurely, not bothering with how wisps of hair were loosely stuck to your skin.

//

“That looks ace, thank you so much guys!” You exclaimed bright as possible. The three of you snug crowded round one of the main cameras

“It was a pleasure” Their eyes both drifted off to their manager who’d stepped in a bit closer

“Well that’s our cue to leave” Changkyun mumbled the drop in his face noticeable but not obvious.

“That’s fine, don’t get yourself into trouble”

“Give him ten minutes” Jooheon quipped.

//

You’d changed into a cool and floaty navy maxi dress. You’d fought and brushed as much product out of your hair as you could and shoved it in a loose pony. With only a few of the crew left on site, the wide-open space of the rooms seemed much larger, sound travelled heavier and echoed more. Yoongi was a picture holding your large D&G holdall glitzed with the gold emblem. He held the door for you leading into the drafty stairway. The grey concrete bleak, the bright blue railings guiding their way safely down. The walls were drab and plain.

You held out your hand, offering to relieve your boyfriend of the oversized bag from his slight frame. He began to oblige, eyes not wandering from his phone. His wrist caught in your hand yanking him into you and into the back of the wall. Did he resist? Absolutely not. Did he need any more guidance, most certainly not!

“Babe…”

“Mmm” humming in between your chest where his head and kisses were firmly being planted.

“Touch me already” your arms were loose as they draped over his shoulders.

“Seriously here?” It was more of a check than a complaint. Strong eyebrow raised.

Fucking yes

The hem of your dress slowly crept up your leg, crumpling up over his hand. His lips nearly caressing yours, the warmth of his breath rolling over your skin. The knowing smile escaped onto your features

“Fuck babe!”

“What?...mmm” your tone creeping higher feigning innocence. His fingers ghosting at the apex of your thighs. The bundle of nerves buzzing at the slight contact, he brushed his cheek to yours

“It’s too warm for underwear” you whined, still pleading innocence. Yoongi knew better, knew the lack of innocence you actually held.

“I’m calling bullshit” Your head gently rolled back into the wall.

“I’m reallllyy not complaining…” he added pushing a bit more of his weight into you, growling into your neck. Your grip tightening round his neck.

“Well let’s play a game of hurry the…mmm fuck up” you urged, teasing his fingers hard against you. The way his hips jutted feeling the rush of how much you wanted him.  With the heat combusting through the heavy kisses, the air was thick and blissfully suffocating. Engulfed in heat he dragged your body round. It was your turn to be shoved hard against the cool concrete

“Careful…” you choked between laboured breathes.

“You’ll give yourself a problem we won’t have time to fix”

“My only problem is not hearing you moan my name” Aggressive hands crept back round the front hoisting your dress back up.

Metal clinked; voices echoed. Heartbeat petrified still in your chest.

Innocent coughs smuggling smiles, arms linked as the last of the camera crew polite in their bow as the gave passage to you.

“Thank you, you worked hard” you responded in kind as Yoongi let you take the lead single file past the biggest cock blockers of the year.

//

“UUUGGHH” you whined slamming your head back into the head rest as Yoongi parked the Land rover in your bay in the gated underground parking of your building.

“I’m soo sorry babe, you know I want to finish this track with Hobi and Joon…I promise I’ll make you…What are you doing?”

Knitted eyebrows with brown pools twinkling with rare mischief that only glistened with you. Like the first time he decided to be brave and go down on you in a dressing room. He’d missed you a hell of a lot, too much apparently for even unbothered Yoongi to take control.

You’d shuffled and maneuvered yourself to the back seat dropping to the chair with a success filled sigh.

“I don’t want to wait until later” A teasing lip bite was all he needed to be scrambling into the backseat to join you. The tinted windows offering you more privacy than what waited for you in the apartment.

“And what I want I get” Your legs were already snug on either side of his hips

“Don’t I know it” His hands already ruffling up your dress as your hands dived desperate to unhook his jean buttons.

You secured his hands round the back of the head rest

“Stay” you urged; hands remained obedient as yours went to elicit controlled groans from his throat as your hand wrapped around him. The need between your legs grew, your bites of his lower lip grew harder, hips rocking against a frustrating nothing. Your ponytail got pulled back sharply. Yoongi apparently had enough of you torturing yourself and him

“Turn around and let me feel you now”

“My hands not good enough for you anymore?”

“Not when I know your just desperate for my cock”

Fair point

Agreeing with complete compliance, invested in his way of thinking. You swept your hair to the front of your shoulder. Following a hard grunt, a deep wet kiss was pressed to shoulder blade you needed to take a beat adjusting to him.

“Mmpphh” you both grunted, head falling forward. Hand grappling behind looking to hook onto any part of him. Palm closing in on his thin waist. Circle movements heavy in your hip

“Better? Is that all my baby wanted hmm?”

“Mmmhmm…Just you” you choked as his hips jutted upwards.

“Yeah?” hair weaved in the long genius fingers tugged hard lips, soft teeth not so on your neck.

“Use me then”

Oh I’m going to

His hand not leaving your hair, hips refusing to offer you anything. The filth Yoongi whispered in controlled pants still offered the motivation for your movements. Every time Yoongi felt the tensing of your thighs or your moans reached a certain pitch too high he couldn’t help but buck up into you. The dusting of a chuckle would ease in through his grunts at your cries.

He wanted to tease. The grip in your hair, the honey on his smirk and the slight growl in the background of his words told you that. Min Yoongi was now unbothered about keeping his friends waiting.

Not today

“Min Yoongi if you don’t make me…mmm… cum in the next 10 minutes…fuuuck” His fingers now tight between your legs, each burst of movement causing you to clench round him with a desperate tension.

“Your body is telling me you need a lot less than ten princess. I certainly don’t”

“Prove it” you challenged. A Challenge you knew he’d destroy in minutes. The air seemed to dissipate from the car, the heat instead hovering round the two of you. Goosebumps erupted all over your skin. Legs beginning to store the tension building up like Jenga blocks in your muscles. Back arching into him forming the perfect crescent. Your moans escalating both in pitch and volume rattled through his brain, trickling in hot drips down his spine adding the pressure within him to breaking point. A breaking point which spilled over before he could gain any control. The hand secured round your pony tail released and dropped to your shoulders with his head following suit, a few heavy breaths later

“I’m sorry… baby, you just feel too good”

“Turn around again baby”

“Do I need to do some more training with you? Your stamina is …” you teased hasty in your shuffle round, hasty to not let your climax slip to nothing.

“Probably” he confessed

“Thought…Mmhmm”

“Just be quiet and let me make you cum”.

//

The tips of Yoongi’s hair were damp, you tried to ruffle it but the damp ends still reflected against the midday sun. Your selfie camera informed you that out of the two of you, you were the only one that didn’t look like they’d just fucked in a car. Unfortunately for Yoongi his face always flushes a cute tinted light red. He hated it. You thought it was hilarious.

“Will you please do a better job of not smirking, you know how observant Hobi is” Yoongi scolded, amusement drained from his face.

“Sorry…” you chuckled. You passed your hand over your face, smirk disappearing. Normal face trying to hold while your hand pressed down on the handle. You were met with silence for a few seconds before you had Ted bounding for you. Soon followed by Joon and Hobi who had been sat on their phones on the sofa. The TV was a silent black.

“I said you guys can treat this as your own space when you’re here, no need to sit in silence” You reminded half chuckling swiping Ted off his feet into your arms.

“I know, I know” Joon acknowledged.

“Sorry we were late, shoot ran over” Ted was put back to scrambling excitedly at your feet as you maneuvered your way to the fridge. Your eyes shot to Hobi, controlled by the unconscious notion if anyone was going to pick up on your white lie it would be him. His eyes were hovering on Yoongi for more than they should.

“It’s alright we get it” With Hobi’s smile being as sweet and as kind as it was. It was hard to decipher.

“You guys okay to chill for like five more minutes while I grab a quick shower” Yoongi checked.

“I’ll even but the TV on for you” he added. At this point you’d already disappeared and enjoying the hot water streaming across your skin.

“Sure, don’t let that run over too though” Hobi jested emphasising the ‘run’.

[wavyzen]

★ lee felix scenario 01 ★

disclaimer: none of the photo’s in the moodboard above belong to me

update: this will be revised soon due to bad writing quality ;(

an: hi friends this is my first scenario so I’m sorry in advance if it’s trash and if felix is a bit ooc, anyways I hope y’all enjoy

prompt: Why are you so clingy people will think we’re dating- I know we are but you’re the one who wants it to be secret you moron! by shittyaus

pairing: lee felix x foreign idol s/o

genre: fluff

word count: 1052

You let out an abrupt inhale  as Felix slid his hand into yours. You promptly whipped your head around the cramped establishment, making sure that no one else saw the two of you. It was well past 11 at night, so the only other customers still lingering around was an older couple too enraptured in each other on the other side of the coffee shop and a university student studying for an exam a couple tables down. Letting out a sigh of relief you waved your free hand in front of him hoping to take his attention away from his phone. After a couple of seconds passed by, he finally looked only to shove his phone in your face. It was an instagram video of a roblox egg dancing around in a circle to ‘un poco loco’ from coco. Unable to control yourself, a couple of snorts left your lips as you used one of your hands to silence yourself. After calming down about a minute later, you placed your hand back into your lap and whispered “You know we can’t do this here.”, as quietly as humanly possible in order to not disturb the people around you. Felix set his phone down and leaned forward cupping your face in his hands, causing your heart to speed up a considerable amount.

“Love, there's barely anyone in here, no one is going to notice us.” Sighing and placing his hands back on the table, you took your glasses off of your face and placed them back into their case.

“I know there isn’t, but I just don’t want to risk you getting into any trouble. Or my parents and manager somehow figuring out.” you whispered back with a small pout on your lips. With the both of you being up and coming musicians and performers, maintaining a clean image was of iminent importance.

The two of you had met during the prior year in an airport when both of your flights were grounded due to inclement weather. Immediately recognizing you from social media and being an avid fan of your music, Felix decided to walk over to where you were sitting and asked for a photo for their Instagram. Taking your headphones off and pausing the episode of buzzfeed unsolved you had been watching on your phone, you shyly agreed. After talking a bit more and sharing some quality memes, a friendship was quickly formed. Once it was time to depart for your seperate flights, you exchanged numbers and promised to keep in touch. The instagram post had surprisingly received a lot of positive feedback with lots of support from stays. Being a stay yourself (Felix didn’t know about this until months later), this made you very happy.

You had been in the industry for about a year and were gaining much success as an upcoming r&b and rap artist. Some achievements you had made included being on the most recent XXL Freshman class, having a single on the Billboard top 100, and lastly collaborating with artists such as Chance the Rapper, Lil Yachty, Gorillaz and Vince Staples. You were a fresh face unapologetically discussing issues such as racism and poverty in your music, what wasn’t there to love? (you were met with a fair share of criticism though of course ☹, but the good feedback outweighed the bad so it’s all good ☺️) Although different from other artists, you remained out of the social spotlight majority of the time to focus on pursuing a music degree and working on your craft. You also prided yourself on being an introvert and did your best to stay away from drama and scandals, for it would ruin your squeaky clean image. Unfortunately, due to the both of you being artist’s, other than texting and facetiming you weren’t able to interact with Felix much. There was a time when you were on tour in Seoul with a couple of other artists from [Country-Name} and got the chance to attend one of his music shows. Other than that though, this was the first time you had to spend with him in person since the day the two of you had met. After being gifted with another musical success on your latest single a couple of months back and finally getting to enjoy your summer break from university, you decided to pay your closest friend a visit.

Your relationship blurred the lines between awfully close friends and lovers, with Felix’s clinginess and public displays of affection not being the true problem. That was JYP’s 3 year dating ban on newer artists and your parents and managers distaste towards you dating anyone, fore it may distract you from your studies and career.

Felix got up out of his seat across from you and slid into your booth wrapping an arm around your clothed shoulder and sliding his hand into yours once more..

“I promise no one will see okay, it’s a weeknight barely anyone is out at this hour.” Playfully rolling your eyes you gave in and rested your head on his shoulder, occasionally snickering and playfully hitting his arm  as he showed you more stupid videos.

The next morning you awoke to hundreds of notifications on all of your social media, meaning your worst fears had been realized: someone had noticed the two of you last night. Images of you and Felix sitting in the coffee shop and of him walking you back to your hotel flooded your feed. But to your pleasant surprise they were met with almost little to no negative feedback. Your fans and stays were hugely supportive of the relationship (if you could even call it that, the two of you weren’t even official yet), already creating fan pages and ship names. After heaving a huge sigh of relief and messaging your parents and manager to clear things up, you get a message from none other than Felix.

crackhead: i just had a meeting with JYP and he agreed to talk to the media, i told you everything would be alright😄😉

you: whatever idiot, you better just be glad this was received well.

crackhead: btw can I ask you something?

you: no

you: yes what is it

crackhead: be my gf or we aren’t friends anymore

you: is that a threat? and sure

[gayninjabadass]

“Anyone with eyes...”

Here it is guys the moment we have all been waiting for thank you so much @irenedrew your pictures turned out so so beautiful and I’m so excited to be able to SEE my story alive like that. Collaborating has made this extra fun and I hope everyone who reads this story and sees your art is as excited as I am!

This story is for the prompt 

"I really want to see the Captain of the Desus ship, Rick, get fed up with the non-movement of the sip and call all hands on deck to get it sailing."

Ill include an AO3 link if that’s your preferred format otherwise read more!

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10849887

Please do not repost, link to another site, or remove water marks from Irenedrew’s work without her consent!!!

Wednesday:

4:30 pm,

Rick’s house.

Rick stood against the mantel of his Alexandrian home with his arms folded. The core of his group, his family, was beginning to disperse after wrapping up their regular Wednesday meeting before dinner. As Daryl crosses the room in front of him Rick watches the way Jesus eyes trail after Daryl. He sits in his place beside Maggie on the couch appearing to manage listening to her at the same time as he tracks Daryl. His eyes land on Rick briefly before darting back to Maggie no doubt he feels the steely blue gaze that still lingers on him. Rick wasn't worried about starring He wants Jesus to know he is looking at him. He needs Jesus to linger after the meeting so he can talk to him and Rick is pretty sure that Jesus will get the message.

Rick had been watching this now for months. He saw the lingering looks Daryl gave Jesus when Jesus was too preoccupied to notice. He saw the way Jesus looked at Daryl all the time, seeming to enjoy the flustered response Daryl gave him or otherwise unconcerned when Daryl didn't notice. Rick had hoped if he just left things alone Daryl would come around in his own time but something Daryl had said to him recently was still bouncing around in his head and it became obvious Daryl was going to need a bit of a push.

Monday:Earlier that week.

Noon,

Rick’s house.

After getting back from a run to find clothes for the ever growing population of children, Daryl stops in Rick's kitchen to drink a glass of water. He leans heavily on the light pink marble counter, tipping his head back and gulping down two full glasses allowing driblets of water to escape the sides of his mouth before slowing down to take smaller sips of the third glass. Rick approaches him cautiously. He had been meaning to talk to Daryl this entire run. It was the reason he had suggested they go together in the first place. He hadn't been going on runs as often since the war ended, his efforts were needed elsewhere, besides Jesus, Daryl, Aaron and Tara were always willing to go. Rick sighs and looks hard at Daryl, accepting that it was now or never. Daryl beats him to it.

.

“What cha got on yer mind?”

Daryls low rumbling voice doesn't sound hesitant like it did when he first got back from the sanctuary. He had never talked much in the first place but after being held captive he said even less and what he did say sounded empty and lifeless. It still sent relief flooding through Ricks body everytime he heard Daryl sounding like his old self. Losing Glenn has been hard but feeling like he had lost Daryl while he stood right infront of him might have been just as painful. Jesus had rescued Daryl, a debt Rick will never be able to repay and that was when Daryl and Jesus first started spending a lot of time together. Somehow they are always within spitting distance of each other, when looking for one you could just find the other. Over those months Rick saw how Jesus slowly managed to get a smirk from Daryl, a huff of air that might be Daryl's laugh, a playful shove or a lazy swat of the hand that Jesus had no trouble dodging. Rick has never seen anyone reach Daryl as quickly as Jesus. He is certain that his brother has feelings for the bearded scout. He thinks now might be a good time for one of his signature Rick speeches. They almost always work on Daryl.

“I was thinkin’ ...”

Rick drops his gaze before rolling his eyes back up and giving Daryl a quirked eyebrow.

“You and Jesus seem to be gettin’ pretty close.”

Daryls shoulders tensed and he lets his hair drop over his eyes while he lifts a thumbnail to nibble on.

“So what?”

Drayls grunt comes out even more mumbled around the nail caught between his teeth and Rick sighs placing his hands on his hips. At least Daryl wasn't denying anything yet. Before Rick can finish sucking in a breath Daryl cuts him off.

“No. nuh-uh.”

“What?”

Rick asks sheepishly.

“Yer gonna do the speech thing. Ya got yer hip cocked an everything’”

Daryl walks around the kitchen island making a B-line for the front porch but Rick jumps in front of the doorway just before Daryl can pass through it. Their chests bump and Daryl takes two long steps back before pacing back and forth reminding Rick of Ezekiel's tiger Shiva.

“Just listen alright?”

Daryl snorts sending some of the wispy hairs on his face fluttering.

“Ya aint givin’ me much choice are ya?”

Rick grins devilishly.

“Exactly. I just want you to know that yer ma brother and I want to see ya happy. And you do seem happy around ‘im. No One here would judge you. Life ain't just waiting fer the next war Daryl. The next Governor, the next Grady, the next Negan. That's what you do. You wait, you help us move on but yer always the first one ready when the fight breaks out ‘cause you never stop. The war is over. Negan is locked up. We’ve got trade deals with four different communities. This is the new world we are building. You can relax.”

Daryl who has been pacing this entire speech whirls around on Rick. Leaning into his space. He doesn't raise his voice. Daryl never raises his voice anymore. Now where he once would have shouted he speaks in a low harrowing tone that sends ice down your spine.

“Relax? I ain't gonna Relax. At the Prison we let shit settle and then we watched Hershel's head roll off his shoulders. Out with Beth we relaxed, sang some damn songs, tried to feed a dog then she got took. Relaxin’ is how people die. ‘Sides it ain't like that. Jesus he don't, we ain't”

Daryl trails off shifting uncomfortably in front of Rick before shoving his finger back between his teeth. Rick understood now what was holding Daryl back. All the people alive today can relate to that. The fear of letting people in, of being really happy, knowing that at any moment the rug could get pulled from under you.

“Daryl, what will you regret more? Never tryin’ or gettin’ what ya want and losing it? Yer alive. Yer still here. Ya still get to try. What would Hershel say? What about Beth? Don't ya think they would want you to be happy?”

Rick knows it's a low blow using the dead against him like that but he needs to make Daryl understand. He needs to reach him. He tries to do it with just his gaze now as he waits for a response. Daryl stares at Rick just shaking his head once as an answer. Rick lets out a long sigh again, squeezing the bridge of his nose. Maybe talking to Daryl first wasn't the right choice after all, it was only making him certain that he wasn't done being involved, and Daryl was going to shut him out. Its best to communicate to Daryl in your actions whenever possible. On top of that this time his speech was too unfocused. Rick had to go and try to talk it out with him but he isn't saying the right thing. He is getting frustrated.  

“Look. I won't make ya do anythin’ but anyone with eyes can see you have feelings for the man. You don't just cozy up to new people everyday. ‘specially not people who steal from ya the first time you meet. Didn't you try to kill Dwight at least 3 times?“

“Was different”

Daryls grunt only serve to make Rick roll his eyes.

“Yeah ‘cause Dwight don’t have that pretty hair am I right?”

Daryls posture goes Rigid and his face flushes red.

“I dunno the fuck yer on abou’”

Rick isn't trying to push Daryl he just can't believe how oblivious he seems to be. He has a sharp eye, can read people in a second, he is bright even though Daryl would never agree with Rick about that.

“Oh come on Daryl. He looks at you the same way you look at him. Ya must have noticed that by now.”

Daryl is vibrating with energy his fists balled at his sides.

“He can do better.”

He checks his shoulder into RIck pushing him back just enough for him to slip through the doorway and out the front of the house before Rick regains his balance.  Rick drops his head and rests his hands on his hips looking at the door swinging closed. That had not gone as well as he’d hoped.

Wednesday:

5:00 pm

Rick’s house

It is just Maggie, Jesus and Rick in the room now. Maggie is talking with her hands mapping out whatever she is describing and Jesus follows with his eyebrows pulled together in concentration. Rick hesitates interrupting them. Maggie had taken on a lot of responsibility at Hilltop and making the trip every Wednesday to be in this meeting must get in the way of her other responsibilities since she always seemed to be working something out when she came.

Ultimately Rick decides to approach the pair. Jesus, Maggie and this time Daryl will all be heading back to Hilltop at sundown. Night travel had recently been reintroduced after the war had ended and the Walker population thinned. Daryl had stuck around Alexandria after last weeks meeting, Aaron and Eric had convinced him to visit for longer by using Judith, they knew Daryl had a soft spot for her and they kindly pointed out that she missed him now that he lived at Hilltop.  With dinner about to start this might be the last chance Rick has to talk to Jesus before he and Daryl are out of reach for a week.

Rick comes to a stop standing by the sitting pair drawing Jesus’s attention first. He gives Rick a meek smile folding his hands delicately across his lap a gesture Rick recognizes as his “Jesus” persona now. He slips it on when he is unsure or being cautious about a situation, it would seem like a tell, except that once the persona was up you had no idea who he was. You couldn't tell what he was thinking or predict what he would do. That's what gets Maggie's attention. The shift in Jesus. She glances up and gives Rick a warm smile when she recognizes him.

“This was a great meeting Rick, I think the water irrigation is gonna make a big difference in the crop yield, thankyou for sending those materials back with us.”

“What's good for the Hilltop is good for Alexandria”

Rick locks eyes with Maggie and they communicate much more than they say. She's family and with his family Rick doesn't have to say much. Rick clears his throat and shifts onto his other leg.

“I was actually hopin’ I could have a moment with Jesus if you could spare ‘im.”

Rick notices the way Jesus eyes flick between them as they talk. Jesus is observant but Rick would bet that Jesus has no idea what Rick wants to talk to him about. Jesus steps forward and places a hand lightly on Maggie's shoulder. His hair brushes the shoulders of his green sweater as he does.

“Go on to dinner I’ll catch up with you.”

Maggie gives him a closed lip smile and squeezes his shoulder in return before nodding at Rick and heading out the front door. Rick turns to Jesus and finds two large inquisitive eyes patiently trained on him. His voice is smooth and reassuring something Rick doesn't have but has made due without. Rick thinks Jesus knows he could lead if he only wanted to. Tucking his hair behind his right ear Jesus cocks his head and addresses Rick directly for the first time.

“How can I help you Rick?”

Rick hasn't exactly panned what he will say. So he just starts the same way he did with Daryl.

“So you and Daryl have been gettin’ pretty close.”

The tips of Jesus ears turn pink and in a fleeting flash he pulls his hair over them looking at the ground before his calm Jesus air resettles around him and he looks at Rick again. It was so quick it could have slipped by if he hadn't come to know Jesus better.

“We have.”

“Daryl is ma brother. When Negan took him ….”

Rick swallows a lump in his throat before continuing.

“I wasn't right then. I couldn't help ‘im. I shoulda been the one ta go get ‘im, been a better brother than his real one ever was, I didn't though. You did. Thank You for gettin’ him back. Not just from the sanctuary, but after. Bringin’ him back to himself.”

Jesus’s mouth is hanging open slightly his already large eyes wide open. He looks at Rick completely speechless a pinkness creeping across his cheeks. He maintains a casual air nonetheless.

“ I- I was just there, in the right place at the right time.“

“No, you made a choice.”

The two men stare at each other silently for a long moment before Jesus starts to shift glancing at the room around him probably mapping out his exits for the 100th time.

“Daryls a good man.”

Rick brings Jesus’s attention back to him. He continues.

“He doesn't think it but he is. One a the best men I’ve ever known. I’ve leaned on him as often as Michonne and for longer. If he were ta get hurt, If anyone at all was ta hurt him I would be very angry. I can be unreasonable when I’m angry. Rash. ”

Jesus narrows his eyes at Rick folding his arms against his chest and straightening his spine. He is a small man, at least a few inches shorter than Rick, but he knows better than to underestimate Jesus.

“Are you giving me the shovel talk Rick?”

Jesus voice is still soft but there is a steal in his eyes that suggests he isn't thrilled about being threatened, there is something else there too, something like amusement. Rick hadn't intended for the conversation to go this way. He meant to encourage Jesus. He was trying to push these two idiots together but somehow it had turned into a protective dad speech. Rick pinches the bridge of his nose reminded of his attempt at talking to Daryl. He just wants to grab them by their shoulders and shake them.

“Anyone with eyes can see there's something going on.”

Rick tries to turn it around assure Jesus he noticed the chemistry but as he watches Jesus’s eyes narrow he knows he did not succeeded.

“You have nothing to worry about Rick. Daryl is straight.”

Rick snorts.

“As a hula hoop.”

Jesus smirks a twinkle in his eyes now.

“You sound pretty sure of that.”

Rick nods his head yes looking at the ground before it dawns on him that he is feeding Jesus answers. He looks back up quickly to see the end of Jesus coat tail pass out the front door. Rick stands there staring after Jesus completely blindsided.

Sunday: Where it began.

7:00 pm

Aaron and Eric’s house

Rick had suspicions about Daryl's sexuality for a while now. It had never seemed important enough to ask about so he hadn’t. That was fine, it worked. That is until Jesus came along. Now Rick is dying to know if he's losing his mind or his brothers perfect match has just shown up. To Rick it's the most obvious thing he's ever seen and he can't understand why no one else is talking about it.  After Daryl quickly befriended Aaron, Eric, and Denise while refusing to interact with anyone else from Alexandria's original residents Rick had shrugged and said it was just a coincidence. Now, with Jesus around and Daryl actually showering regularly he finally decides to ask. Not Daryl of course. That would have never gone over well. Rick talks to Aaron, asks him if Daryl had mentioned anything about it, if all he learns is that Daryl has been confiding in Aaron it might tell him all he needs to know. If Daryl is going to get relationship advice from somebody Rick thinks it would be Aaron. Aaron of course told him that if Daryl had said anything he wouldn't be at liberty to say. Eric who is sitting on the couch reading and listening, chimes in very casually.  

“ But he sure does love making goo goo eyes at that Jesus.”

“Eric!”

Aaron tosses a sandal at Eric saying his name disapprovingly.

“It’s just an observation sweety. Not a violation of his trust. Unless you're suggesting he talks about Jesus.“

“Eric! I swear to god I’ll never rub your feet again.”

Eric rolls his eyes and turns back to his magazine mumbling under his breath as he does.

“I’m sorry I have eyes.”

Rick snorts before pushing off the wall he was leaning on and heading towards the door. So it isn't just him. Other people can see there is something there between the scout and the archer.

“Well I think I have my answer.”

Aaron looks visibly worried as Rick starts backing away.

“Don't say anything to him Rick. You know how closed off he is. If he doesn't tell you himself and you know it's gonna freak him out.”

Rick nods thoughtfully reaching the threshold of the house.

“Well like Eric said, I have eyes.”

Wednesday:

5:15 pm

Rick’s house.

Coming out of his thoughts Rick realizes he needs to talk to Aaron and Eric again. He is in over his head and has struck out talking to both Jesus and Daryl. He decides to find time before next week's meeting to talk to the men. The trouble is Rick just did exactly what Aaron told him not to do.

Wednesday: One week later.

2:00 pm

Aaron and Eric’s house

Rick doesn't find time until a few hours before Jesus, Maggie, and Daryl are expected to arrive.  He knocks on the frame of Aaron and Eric’s open door before he enters, like usual he finds Eric reading and Aaron tinkering with something mechanical on the table. They both look up as he enters.

“Rick, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

Aaron stands up going to the sink to wash his hands. Hospitality is a strength Aaron and Eric share, which is exactly what Rick kept reminding himself as he avoided this all week.

“I need yer advice.”

Rick waits one hip cocked standing between the two partners as they exchange a look. Eric looks excited Aaron looks nervous.

“About what?”

Eric asks this time. Rick takes a deep breath.

“I talked ta Jesus n’ Daryl.”

Eric drops his book and stands immediately. Aaron turns the sink off staring hard at Rick.

“You what?”

“Rick No!”

Rick scratches at his beard tossing his head to the side remembering the conversations from last week.

“Yeah, I did.”

Aaron makes a displeased groan but Eric steps around the coach too invested to stay so far away.

“Okay, well there's no going back now. So what happened?”

Erics eager eyes roam Rick's face hopefully.

“Ah, well Daryl said there ain't nothin’ goin’ on and that relaxin’ is how people die. Worst was he said Jesus could do better. Jesus… well..”

Rick trails off unsure how to describe the conversation he had with Jesus. Eric is hanging on the edge of his seat waiting for Rick to continue. Aaron is approaching slowly drying his hands on a towel with a pinched expression on his face. Rick pushes air out through his nose before the words sort of tumble free.

“First I thanked ‘im for gettin’ Daryl back... Then I threatened ta hurt him if he hurt Daryl, then he said not to worry ‘cause Daryl was straight and I kind a said he ain’t.”

“Rick!”

Aarons face is horror struck and Eric has a hand cupped over his mouth and nose the other on his hip. They both speak at the same time. Eric saying

“You threatened him?”

Was lost under Aaron saying

“You told Jesus, Daryl isn't straight? Rick why would you do that?”

“I didn't mean to, I didn't realize he didn't already know ‘till after I said it. Then he was just gone. He Ninja’d outta the room ‘fore I even figured out what was happenin’.”

Rick watches Aaron walk over to the couch rubbing his face with his hands before gingerly sitting down.

“Daryl is never going to trust me again.”

Rick feels a pang of guilt hearing that. Eric swoops in quickly standing in front of Aaron and pulling his head against his stomach.

“Oh hush, if we can get that bone head to stop ignoring his feelings he might even thank you and it's not Rick's fault, Jesus is a slippery one.”

Eric looks up and over to Rick.

“Take them on a run. Daryl gets claustrophobic behind walls. If you're gonna get through to them it's gonna be out there.”

Rick nods his head. That is a great idea if he had them both together and alone they would have no choice but to deal with each other. There would be nowhere for Daryl to run off to.  Rick did know that Daryl likes to venture outside the walls to think things over but it hadn't occurred to him to take him out there for this; it might be easier on him. It is a good observation Rick knew talking to Aaron and Eric would help. Other than Rick, Aaron and Eric saw Daryl the most they knew him almost as well as Rick did. In some ways better even.  A shout from the gates gets all of their attention.

“Rick Grimes!”

Rick darts out the door into the bright mid afternoon sun shielding his eyes when he hears Maggie call for him but as soon as he makes it into the street and sees the pregnant woman marching towards him he freezes. She looks furious. Michonne who must have opened the gate is chuckling with Rosita when Rick stops dead in his tracks. She slides the gate back into place but Rick couldn't keep watching because Maggie was right in front of him now. At least he knows this isn't a life threatening issue since Michonne is laughing.

“Maggie, it's good to see you.”

Rick tries to sound casual but Maggie still looks furious as she grabs him by the bicep and tugs him towards his home two houses down.

“We have to talk. Now!”

Once inside Maggie closes the door and turns on Rick with fire in her eyes and wild hair.

“What did you do?”

She demands without giving any context. Rick twists in his posture before stammering a response.

“What? I? I dunno Mag’s what did I do?”

“You did somethin’! You ask to talk to Jesus last week and since then I haven't been able to get him and Daryl in a room together without them fightin’ or one of them running off. It took me months of pairing them up to get them where they were and now you went n’ ruined it all. Jesus says you gave him the shovel talk? You can't be serious Rick. You gave Jesus the shovel talk.”

Rick sighs frustration mounting. Why had he gotten himself involved in this. He had just wanted to see Daryl happy and now he was buried in a mess and feeling the wrath of Aaron and Maggie. He had not been as close to Daryl as those two over the past months and he was starting to realize what a disadvantage that had become.

“I just wanted ta help! They have been pining after each other like a couple a dumbasses and I just thought if I talked to ‘em they might actually do somethin’ “bout it. I wasn't even tryin’ ta give him the shovel talk it just happened.”

Maggie scoffs and throws her hands up.

“It just happened? You didn't think about talkin’ to me before sendin’ me back with a couple of oversized children? They have been bickerin’ and avoidin’ each other ever since then. I know you didn't just talk to Jesus, what did you say to Daryl. He won't tell me and I can't fix this if I don't know.”

Rick really is desperate for some help. He hadn't meant to make such a mess of this.

“I told Daryl it was okay to relax. Told ‘im we all just want him ta be happy.”

Maggies temper seems to be fizzling out.

“Is that what you said to him? What did he say? Why is he so upset, I’ve said things like that to him before and he ain't never acted like this petulant child.”

“He said Relaxin’ gets people killed. I told him anyone with eyes can see he's got feelings for..”

Maggies screech cuts Rick off before he can continue.

“You What?! Rick! You did not tell him that. No wonder he is avoidin’ Jesus. Anyone with eyes? Are you serious, what is going to make a closet case like Daryl freak out more than thinkin’ he's that obvious?”

Rick hadn't even thought about it that way. He remembered Eric saying he had eyes to Aaron and hadn't considered what it would sound like to someone as shy as Daryl. Suddenly Aarons scolding made more sense. Eric called it like he saw it but Eric getting away with that is different. It's just him. Rick pinches the bridge of his nose.

“ Eric said it. I repeated it. I didn't think.. Shit Maggie. “

“Shit is right. Just because Eric can say it don't mean you can. You and Daryl are really close Rick but your relationship don't work like theirs. You could really hurt Daryl if yer not careful ‘bout how you say stuff like that. He gives a shit what you think of him. I’ve worked hard to get those two bone heads together and you just undid months of work. I could strangle you. Jesus was miserable all week. Daryl wouldn't even look at ‘im for the first 3 days.”

This is starting to feel like Highschool all over again. Rick has gotten himself in way over his head.

“I’ll fix it! Okay? I was gonna try and take ‘em both on a run. Get ‘em outta here and get ‘em ta talk.”

“ No way! You've done enough damage Rick.”

“Look I won't say nothin’ ‘bout them being obvious. I’ll just get ‘em somewhere so that they’ll be stuck talkin’ to each other. They will have ta sort it out. “

Maggie chews on her lip still glaring at Rick with her arms crossed resting on her baby bump.

“And what about you, what will you do?”

“I don't know. I’ll figure it out. “

Maggie studies Rick hard for a long moment and Rick holds his breath.

“Fine but if they come back and you ain't got them on good terms I'm gettin’ Michonne to kick your ass for me. I'd do it myself if I wasn't pregnant.”

Later that evening after the meeting wraps up and people are beginning to stand once again Rick locks eyes with Maggie. Operation:Leather boyfriends is set to go. That was a name Maggie had already come up with for her plan before Rick stumbled right into the middle of it and he thought it was fitting, if not a bit on the nose. Maggie nods to Rick once before quickly grabbing Jesus’s attention and stopping him from following Sasha out. Rick quickly scans the room finding Daryl already nearing the door on his way out. His heart jumps knowing he needs to keep his part of the plan running smoothly and prevent Daryl from running off.

“Wait up! Daryl.”

Rick calls out taking a few light jogging steps towards the fleeing figure ahead of him. Daryl pauses scuffing a shoe before turning to face Rick. He nods his head towards Rick in acknowledgment his eyes darting to where Jesus is further in the room over Rick’s shoulder. Rick almost smirks but catches himself.

“I'm going on a run tomorrow morning. Gonna be a day's travel there and a day back, camping out for a night. Thought you might like to get out for a bit.”

Daryls shoulders relax while he thinks on it chewing on his lip for a long contemplative moment before he nods at Rick again.

“Yeah sounds good. You talk to Maggie?”

This was going exactly how Rick hoped it would. He is having trouble keeping from acting over excited. This needs to be discussed as a run like any other or else Daryl will run for the hills.

“Yeah I talked to her first. She's headin’ back in the morning, we need ta go that way so we will stop off at Hilltop n’ head out from there.”

Daryl nods again fidgeting with his bandana and stepping to leave.

“A’ight.”

Daryl slinks off towards dinner and Rick finally lets his smile break through. Maggie is a devious woman and her plan to get them on this trip is going to work. Rick is filled with nervous excitement. He has no way of knowing how exactly this will play out but he has a good feeling about this plan. Rick looks back and sees Maggie is glancing his way every few moments. He quickly makes his way over to them giving them a closed lip smile and starting phase two.

“Jesus good ta see ya, Mags”

Rick nods at both of them. Jesus has a suspicious squint to his eye as he looks at Rick.

“Rick”

A name is all he offers as a greeting. Maggie smiles big and warm grabbing them both by the shoulder.

“Well boys, the baby is gonna crack my ribs if I don't get ‘im fed soon. He's kickin’ up a bigger fuss than a cornered pig.”

Jesus lets out a breathy chuckle at Maggie's words and looks fondly after her as she exits. His eyes lazily flick over to Rick, his face expectant. His hair is tied up at the crown of his head a few pieces having fallen loose at some point. Rick tries for a moment to see Jesus through Daryl's eyes. He is a very pretty guy with sharp features and bright eyes, Rick thinks, as far as men go, Jesus is good looking. He takes a deep breath. This is going to be harder than talking to Daryl. Rick just didn't mention Jesus would be coming along knowing that Daryl wouldn't ask questions but that would never work on Jesus. Rick has no choice but to shoot from the hip just invite Jesus and see where it goes.

“Jesus,  I'm goin’ on a run. Days trip out, camp for the night then head back. I could use ya on it. Yer quick, quiet, plus more eyes is always better.”

Rick watches Jesus digest his offer. He hums softly looking up at Rick through his eyelashes.

“and who else is going on this run Rick?”

There it is. The question. Rick itches at the back of his neck.

“Just me ...n’ Daryl.”

Rick smiles sheepishly at Jesus whose eyes watch him knowingly.

“and did you already talk to Daryl about it?”

Jesus makes Rick feel like a child who's missbehaved. He sighs heavily tapping the heel of his boot against the ground as he shifts his stance.

“Sort of. He's goin’.”

Jesus lets out a big breath there is a noticeable shift in his attitude, the playfulness melting away as seriousness sets in.

“Look Rick. I don't know what you're angle is but Daryl doesn't want to go on a run with me. Especially not a two day run. He hasn't talked to me in a week. “

Rick can tell Jesus knows he had been involved in why Daryl was avoiding him. Rick gives up trying to navigate this conversation. There was no use pretending he could hold his own in a game of words with Jesus, he has a way of seeing right through you while keeping his own cards close to his chest,  if Rick tries to prevent that it would just drain all his energy. He knows when he is beat. So Rick just decides to lay it all out. Fold his cards.

“I'm sorry ‘bout that. Was my fault. I'm trying ta fix it. You gotta go on this run with us. The whole point a this is ta get him to deal with his feelings. I know I probably sounded like a real ass last week but I was tryin’ ta tell ya ta go for it.”

Jesus’s eye brows are pinched as he keeps his hands unnaturally still, folded palms up in front of his stomach. Rick thinks he may never have had a more personal conversation with Jesus. Most of their interactions had been preparing for the war against Negan and the Saviors.

“With all due respect Rick, you can't make Daryl want to date me. As flattered as I am that you think I would be good for him, knowing how important Daryl is to you, it won’t change how he feels. You can't fix that.”

Jesus has his arms crossed and his eyes look vulnerable. He is obviously feeling exposed by this conversation but he isn't telling Rick to leave and so Rick takes that as permission to continue. Rick takes a step closer feeling like this was to private to be said at full volume.

“ Paul, Daryl cares about ya. I know it. Because I know him. He's just scared of bein’ happy he has more reason than most a us for that. The other day I talked to him ‘fore I talked to you, he said you could do better. He's got it in his head that yer too good for ‘im.”

Jesus’s arms fall loosely for a moment before he pulls his hair out of its bun shaking it loose and running a hand through it. He rubs at his face making a few attempts at speaking before finding the words.

“That's a lot to take in. Rick. I don't know what you think is going to happen. Even if you're right and he thinks of me that way if he doesn't want to let me in it doesn't matter. I won't make him talk to me.”

Rick nods his head thinking it out.

“Sometimes, Daryl needs a little push. I know you ain't known him that long yet but he would still be sleepin’ in a tent a football field away from the rest of us if it weren't for Carol goin’ out n’ pushing him to open up. Hes stubborn as all hell and He dont make the first move in anythin’ but a fight. This will work. If we go out in the woods we start a fire and I wander off. Maybe I go ta sleep or go get firewood but I'll make sure you get a chance to just try and talk to ‘im. Out there where he's more comfortable and got nowhere to hide. All the time I’ve known him there ain't been no one I could see him happy with ‘cept you. ”

Rick watches Jesus hopefully. He looks reluctant to accept but as time stretches Rick starts thinking more certainly that the answer will be yes. Jesus eyes him again hesitantly this time from behind his hair with that same pull between his eyebrows.

“Rick you've never even asked how I feel about him.”

Jesus points out, his voice soft . It's obviously a weak attempt at avoiding this impending confrontation on their run tomorrow. Rick chuckles. He remembers telling Maggie he wouldn't talk about how obvious these two are and stops himself before it slips out again. Instead he says.

“Well Jesus, how do you feel about ‘im?”

Jesus’s face twists and a pained sound passes his lips. He pulls his arms back across his chest shaking his head back and forth and giving a barely audible answer.

“I don't know.”

Jesus has his eyes trained on the floor so Rick steps forward gripping his shoulder and peering down into his line of sight.

“Hey. The two a ya were on Negan's personal hit list. Doesn't the fact that ya both made it through the war say something? You aren't done yet. Neither of you. You still get time.”

Jesus smirks now following that with a wispy half hearted chuckle, he looks up at Rick with a slight wetness to his eyes. Rick isn't sure so he asks.

“What's funny?”

“Something I said to Sasha, it's a long life; and then it isn't.”

“Exactly!”

Rick feels that hope from before returning and then Jesus and him are both smiling and Jesus shoves Rick's hand off his shoulder.

“Alright alright. I'll go but I want it on record that I thought tricking Daryl was a bad idea.”

“We're not trickin’ him we are just ignorin’ his wishes.”

“You’re right that’s so much better.”

Rick chuckles before leading Jesus out towards dinner.

“Well it's for his own good.”

Thursday: Show time.

5:00 Am.

The gates of Alexandria.

Jesus sits in the back seat of the car that Rick has pulled around for their run. The car is sitting behind the gate turned off to conserve gas while last minute preparations are seen to. Maggie is talking to Daryl in hushed voices by the trunk as Rick approaches to head out.

“All set?”

Rick asks making to take the driver's seat. Daryl eyes the cars lone occupant through the back window.

“Yeah.”

Daryl seems put off and Rick isn't sure if this is just what Maggie was talking about before, Daryl being crabby all week, or if it is something else.

“Everythin’ alright?”

Maggie smiles at Rick rubbing her hands across her belly absentmindedly. The fabric of her floral blouse hangs loosely where it can't be buttoned any further over her baby bump, instead there was the stretched fabric of her tank top to cover her.

“Yeah we are just fine. I was just tellin’ Daryl here that I checked your supplies for ya and that we can head out as soon as you're ready”

Rick locks eyes with Maggie. She must have stopped Daryl from going through the trunk and noticing the extra supplies for Jesus. Rick feels a nervous twitch start in the pit off his stomach.

“Great. Let's head out.”

Rick quickly ducks into the car ready to just go and get this over with. When they arrive at Hilltop Maggie is going to hop out quickly and Rick is going to pull away before Daryl has a chance to react to Jesus’s continued presence. It wasn't guaranteed to go smoothly but Rick is hoping Daryl will take the silently brooding path rather than say anything. Daryl hesitates outside the car as he sees Maggie move to the passenger seat. When he climbs into the faded gray interior he aims to sit as close to the door as possible leaning his head into his arm against the window. Rick looks at Jesus in the rear view mirror and catches him glancing at Daryl shoving his hair behind his ears and adjusting his scouting gloves. Rick really hopes he isn't being overly optimistic about how this trip will go.

After two hours of completely silent driving Rick pull’s the Sedan up to the gates of Hilltop. It is still early in the morning since they had left just as the sun was rising. Rick squeezes Maggie's hand over the center console and she squeezes back just as Rick brings the car to a stop.

“Have a good trip boys!”

Maggie turns around and smiles big and bright at Daryl who looks startled for a moment before he gives her a nod and leans forward to bump his hand into her shoulder briefly. Maggie looks mischievously at Jesus before jumping out of the car much faster than any pregnant woman Ricks ever seen before. As soon as the car door latches closed she's pounding on the roof laughing and chanting

“Go Rick go!”

So Rick floors it into the turn heading back down the road a bit before he can turn off and start on his way for the run. He realizes as his adrenaline pumps that he is still going to be in the car with these two for a while and driving away fast isn't going to keep him from that. Rick looks up to his mirror to see Jesus has pulled his beanie down over his eyes and is leaning his head back as if he is sleeping, Daryl is glaring daggers into the back of Rick's head. Rick can feel the waves of agitation rolling off Daryl and he is sure that Jesus feigning sleep is more of a response to that than any actual fatigue. Daryl knows now that he has been set up and that Maggie was in on it. Rick takes comfort in being able to drag her down with him if Daryl gets really upset. With Daryl's angry glare still on him Rick reaches into the glove box and pulls out a CD. He figures there's no way he can make Daryl’s mood any worse and he knows that Daryl secretly likes when Rick singings along even if he says he has shit taste in music.

“No, Rick!”

“Hmm?”

Rick pretends not to hear Daryl as he slides the disc in. A country western song starts blaring through the speakers and Rick hits the steering wheel in time with the boot stomps as the twangy whisky voice comes in. Rick knows every word to this song because it's the only CD he has in this car he looks at Daryl again and starts singing along. Rick notices that Jesus’s head is turned towards the window so that his huge grin is hidden from Daryl. Rick smiles as he sings thinking he will get these two to cheer up and chill out by the end of the trip.

Rick tries a few times to start up conversation but Daryl refuses to acknowledge him at all and Jesus offers short responses that make it obvious he is only responding because he feels he has to. Rick doesn't let himself get discouraged he doesn't need anyone else to talk he can just talk to them anyway.  As they were nearing the area they will be camping out in Rick decides to talk about the real reason they are on this trip instead of the random chatter he has been maintaining for a while now.

“Daryl.”

Daryl doesn't respond staring out the window like Rick isn't there. Rick cleares his throat and uses his business voice this time.

“Daryl look at me or I’ll pull this car over.”

Daryls eyes flick to Rick and back to the window before finally settling on a place just past Rick but in his general direction. Rick holds in his sigh.

“I’m sorry if I upset ya the other day.”

Daryls eyes make a panicked flick to Jesus who is sitting up and watching the both of them now much to Daryl's dismay.

“Can ya not.”

Daryls deep voice is a relief after hours of listening to his own voice.

“No we’re gonna sort this out. All of us.”

Rick locks eyes with Jesus and can't help noticing that the man looks a little pale. Rick continues speaking to both of them now.

“The two of you can't be avoiding each other. Yer our best scoutin’ team, two a our strongest fighters. You work well together.”

Rick refrains from saying what he thinks they work well as. Jesus leans his head back and for a moment Rick thinks he is going to go back to faking sleep but he leans forward again quickly folding his hands and resting his elbows on his knees. Daryl watches him from the sides of his eyes.

“Rick, you're right but I still don't know that the best way to get that is to treat us like children in time out.”

Ricks feathers are ruffled by that but he bites his tongue because Daryl snorts something like a laugh. Rick thinks if they can unite against him then at least they will be United in something. He turns down a dirt road nearly hidden by overgrowth so long after the turn. He slows the car down as it jostles on the uneven ground. The sun is beginning to set so Rick turns on the headlights to see more clearly in the dark of the wooded road.

“Well I'm sorry for that too then.”

Rick comes to a stop in a clearing. He pulls the car to the side and turns it off.

“Tomorrow morning we walk about 2 miles to a small town ta check out their clinic. It was about to open when everythin’ went ta shit. It might still be well stocked on medicines. Some that we sorely need.”

The men in the back seat just nod. There is a heaviness in the air. Anticipation not for the run but for what comes first.

“The two a you set up camp, I'll be right back.”

With that Rick gets out of the car and walks directly into the woods leaving the scout and the archer sitting in the back seat. Daryl and Jesus look to each other Daryl wearing a confused look on his face while Jesus just looks tired.

Rick circles around the clearing going through the brush until he finds what he's looking for. On the top of the hill that sits to one side of the clearing, hidden within the foliage, is Maggie with a pair of binoculars. She has two folding chairs, blankets, a basket full of snacks, and a rifle propped against her knee.

When they had made this plan Rick had chosen a long path to get here so that Maggie would have time to beat him here and set this up. When Maggie hears Rick approach she stand pulling her knife from her belt. When she sees it's Rick she puts her knife back and pats the chair next to her as she sits again. She has to lower herself slowly, the size of her belly getting in the way of her usual grace. Not nearly matching her quick escape from the car earlier today. Rick hurries over reaching to help her settle and taking the binoculars that Maggie has outstretched towards him.

“ What are they doin’?”

Rick is already trying to find them in his sights. He finds Jesus sitting on the hood of the car his Beanie having been removed at some point. He is watching Daryl fuss with a tent. Maggies voice filters in like narration while he spies on the two men in the clearing.

“Well Daryl is tryin’ to set up that tent and failin’.”

“But Daryl can set up a tent with his hands tied behind his back.”

Rick doesn't understand what could be the problem. Maggie is laughing and when Rick looks over he sees she has pulled out another pair of binoculars for herself.

“Jesus hid a few pieces of it and I think he is waitin’ for Daryl to ask for help.”

Rick is grinning, This is already turning out to be very interesting. He just wishes they could hear what they were saying so he says as much.

“ I dunno, I think watchin’ them is a bit of an invasion of privacy already.”

Rick nods. Maggie is right. He leans back into watch them.

The Campsite: Jesus and Daryl

Sundown.

Daryl growls kicking the side of the dingy, faded, red tent as it tips over again. It stirs up some dirt and dry leaves when it lands.

“Maggie said we was all set to leave, didn't mention the tent is missing pieces. Shoulda checked it myself.”

“It was all there when we left, I packed the trunk. I’m sure it's all here somewhere.”

Jesus leans back so his shoulders are resting on the car's windshield, lazily tucking his hands behind his head and gazing up at the canopy of trees. He is completely unbothered by Daryls very apparent frustration.

“It ain't hear I’m tellin’ ya.”

“Would you like some help?”

Daryl stops what he is doing and looks at Jesus the cocky grin on his face cluing Daryl in suddenly.

“You little shit. Where is it? “

Jesus laughs tossing Daryl the two pieces of the tent he had tucked in his pocket and motioning under the car where the missing pole was stashed. Daryl crouches down getting on his hands and knees to reach the pole groaning as he stands back up when his knee screams for him to take it slower. He ignores it and gets the tent constructed in less than 2 minute after.

“I dunno why you always gotta fuck wit me”

Daryl says while standing back and admiring his work. He could have done this on the first try if Jesus hadn't gone and hid shit. Jesus leans forward again more serious than before.

“I just wanted you to talk to me again. You’ve been ignoring me all week. The car ride too.”

“I aint ignoring ya.”

“Daryl.”

Jesus voice sounds unamused. Daryl shuffles before turning to the center of the camp site to build a firepit. He needs to start working on getting some light in the camp site before the sun is completely gone. He doesn't answer Jesus for a long moment so the scout hops down from the car and approaches him. As he nears, Daryl nervously spits out a change of topic.

“Where is Rick anyway, said he would be right back.”

He can feel Jesus still where he stands behind him.

“He isn't coming back. At least not for a while.”

Daryl stops what he is doing straightening his back and looking at Jesus who has his hands on his hips and a patient look on his face. He pushes the panic down.  

“The fuck ya mean?”

Jesus looks a little guilty and crosses his arms over his chest a gesture that Daryl recognizes as one of Jesus nervous habits.

“I mean Rick is intentionally not here right now. He wants us to talk.”

Daryl paces around the fire pit he started constructing waving his arm roughly at Jesus when he speaks.  

“You in on this? Everyone trying to trick the dumb Redneck now?”

Jesus face softens.

“No Daryl. That's not..”

“What? you expect me to believe you ain't in on this, how'd ya know Rick wasn't gonna come back? that he wants us to talk? Yall planning this shit.”

Jesus steps towards Daryl his hands up palms out. His eyes imploring Daryl to trust him. Daryl takes a couple deep breaths trying to keep his head clear. Something Jesus had been helping him do at night when he woke from his nightmares hyperventilating and sweating. Jesus watches Daryl carefully he thinks he has gotten better at calming him he thinks he has learned how to get passed Daryl's feral self defense but whenever it's put to the test he starts to doubt it.

“Daryl, I knew about the point of this trip but it wasn't my idea. I still don't even know why you’ve been avoiding me. Rick just asked me to come on this trip and he can be pretty convincing when he wants to be.”

Daryl still looks upset but he nods at the comment about Rick. He knows first hand how convincing Rick is when he wants something.

“You still went along with it.”

Daryls voice has less venom in it now. He isn't mad at Jesus. He isn't even mad at Rick though he is going to have words with him about this whole trip.

“He didn't even ask me untill after you had agreed to go. He sort of cornered me into it. I wanted to say no but...I also missed you.“

Daryl feels his face heat at Jesus words so he turns back to the fire and starts standing sticks against each other pilling dry leaves in the center between them. Jesus takes his gloves off and places them in his trench coat pocket before kneeling down and stacking loose rocks around the edges of the firewood Daryl is stacking. Jesus peeks at Daryl through the sheet of hair that's hanging over his shoulder.

“I went along with it, you're right. Do you think I shouldn't have?”

Daryls hands still before he stands up hitting his hands against his pants. He chews on his lip then squats back down and joins Jesus in stacking the Rocks around the edges. His nervous movements don't bother Jesus. He’s used to the restless ways Daryl deals with things. It's been a long silent moment and Jesus is concentrating diligently on stacking rocks. Giving it much more attention that it really requires trying to be patient while Daryl decides how to say whatever it is he wants to say. Jesus knows if he waits he will get an answer but the anticipation builds anyway the more time pases.

“I think Rick woulda got cha here anyway. Maybe knocked you out and stuffed ya in the trunk.”

Jesus laughs now nodding his head. He is relieved by the way Daryl seems to be taking this odd situation in stride.

“You're right. That man finds a way.”

It's quiet again but not awkwardly so. Daryl manages to get the fire lit so Jesus turns back to the car's trunk to pull out the camping chairs. He takes a moment just moving things around in the back of the car steeling himself for what he is about to say.

“Daryl?”

“Mm?”

“Can we talk? About whatever's got you upset with me? “

“Ain't nothin goin on.”

“So you were avoided me all week for no reason?”

“I said I wasn't avoiding ya”

“And I’m not stupid.”

When Jesus says that Daryl takes a deep breath. This was going to suck. He was not good at talking things out.

“I didn't say you was stupid.”

“I’d have to be to believe that nothing has changed and that you weren't avoiding me.”

Daryl sits in his chair pushing his forehead into his palms with his elbows on his knees. He feels something nudge his arm and when he looks Jesus is handing him a flask. They sit side by side in their folding camping chairs. Daryl’s the same ugly shade of red as the tent Jesus in a army green version with cup holders. The fire a few feet infront of them is doing a good job of keeping the chilly bite of night air tolerable. The sun has finally fallen completely and the buzzing sounds of the woods at night fills the air.

“This part a Rick’s plan too?”

He asks as he takes the Flask from Jesus and tosses back a big swig.

“Nope, this was my genius idea. Rick told me I was going to be coming on this trip and I figured I could use a little liquid courage.”

“What you need courage for, s’just us.”

Jesus ducks his head when he hears “us” he can't help how much he likes the way that sounds coming out of Daryl’s mouth.

“You always tell me you aren't good at talking about stuff. Well I’m not either. Not personal stuff at least.”

“Whats personal about this?”

Jesus sighs leaning back and taking another sip. Daryl fascinates him. His direct approach to things and his refusal to make assumptions.

“You are really gonna make me work for this aren't you?”

“I don't know what yer talking about.”

Daryl wants to keep his hands busy but he has nothing to do, no arrows to clean, no animals to skin so he just wraps and unwraps a loose thread from his jeans around his finger.

“Does that usually work? Pretending you have no idea what's going on until people give up trying to talk to you?”

Jesus doesn't mean that as a jab he is genuinely curious wanting to understand why Dary, someone who can clearly read between the lines, refuses to accept certain things no matter how many times he is told or how clear Jesus makes it. Daryl just grunts. He didn't intend to do it, turn away from things he didn't want to accept. For a long time he refused to accept that he could be Rick's right hand man. He shied away from the way people looked to him in the group as Rick's second in command he didn't mean to run from it then, it just happened but just like Carol did then Jesus picked up on it right away. He shared that quality with Carol, his ability to read people and an adaptable personality. Daryl starts to realize that he can't get out of this. Just like he never could with her. He feels a bit of sweat starting to prickle his neck. Jesus rolls his eyes handing Daryl the flask again and bringing an entire bottle of Jack Daniels out of his trench coat. Daryls eyebrows shoot up.

“Flask wasn't doin’ it for ya?”

“No, clearly it wasn't.”

Jesus temper sounds a little short but his gaze is on the flames in front of them and the only sign that he is upset is the tight way his hand grips the bottles neck.

The Lookout : Rick and Maggie

Rick and Maggie share a bowl of stale cheese popcorn as they watch the two men in the clearing set up camp together. Rick lowers his binoculars looking over at Maggie.

“The alcohol was a great idea. I didn't even think about givin’ ‘em somethin’ like that.”

Maggie scrunches up her eyebrows and shakes her head.

“That wasn't me, I thought you gave that to Jesus.”

Rick grins and laughs picking his binoculars backup and leaning forward but doesn't take his eyes off Maggie.

“That sneaky little devil calls himself Jesus but he swiped that from the pantry.”

“ I don't blame him, we basically locked him in the closet with his crush and told em they weren't comin’ out till they kissed.”

Rick has to hold his sides as he laughs. He looks fondly at Maggie who looks so much younger when she smiles. Rick thinks back to where they met on the farm it seems so long ago but it was really only a year ago or two maybe. So much can happen in that amount of time in today's world. Rick looks back to the men in the camp, he hopes that they realize that and can stop fighting a good thing.  

The Campsite: Jesus and Daryl

“What did Rick say to ya, ‘bout why we was going on this trip?”

Jesus looks over at Daryl but he doesn't answer. He just sips directly from the bottle in his hand and stares.

“What?”

Dary asks his heart rate is spiking. He knows what he talked about with Rick and he was damn near crawling out of his skin then. He doesn't know how he will handle it if that's what Rick talked to Jesus about. He doesn't understand why his brother is meddling. Why he can't just let Daryl be. He wanted to explain to Rick why he isnt any good for Jesus but he wouldn't listen even if Daryl had the words and if Rick went to Jesus for the same reason Daryl is gonna strangle him.

“I don't know if I should tell you.”

Daryl stares at Jesus, blue eyes locked in a tense challenge.

“What ya mean?”

“Well I’ve asked you twice now why you have been avoiding me. You refused to answer. I don't know if I should tell you what Rick said to me. It might be the perfect bargaining chip.”

“Always gotta have an angle”

Jesus pulls his feet into his seat and tucks the bottle between his crossed legs as he turns his body to look directly at Daryl.

“If you want I’ll just go sit in the car. I’m not going to make you talk to me. I told Rick as much.”

Daryl hesitates a moment. He doesn't want Jesus to go. He had missed him too in all honesty but he also was terrified of this. He had been fine when he was just hanging out with Jesus in their trailer over the last few months telling himself he could just ignore his feelings. Shove them down so deep that they could never surface. After talking to Rick last week he couldn't get it out of his head. Rick had said anyone with eyes could see he had feelings for Jesus and suddenly he was hyper aware of everything. He could feel how often he looked at Jesus .It was like he was magnetically pulled to his side. Always wandering to stand next to him or sit beside him, like his feet were moving before the thought even registered in his mind. He could see everyone else noticing it and he felt like he had a neon sign over his head that read Gay. He had never talked about his sexuality with anyone in his family. Never needed to. Suddenly it seemed like everyone knew already and Daryl didn't know how to deal with it. Jesus is still watching him and he looks as though he is about to get up and go do exactly what he said. His nerves had been on edge as soon as he offered to go off and leave Daryl because as honest as he had been when he said it he really didn't want to do it. He moves to stand up when Daryl finally speaks

“ Dont. you can stay it's just…”

Daryl hangs his head. He is going to have to tell Jesus whats going on to find out what Rick told him. His mouth feels dry and the burn of whisky doesn't help that but it does make him feel a little more bold. This is his third shot and Daryl thinks he may have become a light weight since the days of Dixon trailer parties. Jesus waits patiently for Daryl to continue.

“Rick talked to me last week. When I stayed at Alexandria. Said I’s obvious, hanging round ya all the time. Said he thought there was something going on. I just didn't want noone getting the wrong idea.”

Jesus nods weighing his words before he says them.

“You didn't want them getting the wrong idea about what? Us? Or you?”

Jesus expression is guarded when Daryl peeks at it. Now was his chance to find out if what Rick said was really true. He had tried not to hope much and that wasn't hard considering the way Daryl had been turning tale whenever they saw each other. For Jesus the way Daryl had started leaning on him, needing his presence, was a victory. Everytime Daryl passed up a run so he could be there when Jesus returned from his, everytime Daryl found a reason to sit beside Jesus felt like an honor. Daryls heart is pounding. He can do this. He can tell Jesus , he knows Jesus won't judge him. He remembers when Aaron had figured it out, it was so much easier with Aaron Daryl isn't sure if that's because Aaron hadn’t made him say it or if it was just because he hadn't looked as pretty and vulnerable as Jesus does.

“It ain't the wrong idea bout me, just bout us.”

Daryl can't look at Jesus now. He stares at the orange and yellow flickers in front of him and picks up a stick to poke the fire just to have something to do.

“What idea do you think they were getting?”

Daryl is frustrated now. He doesn't want to come right out and say it but Jesus is trying to prod him to. He is using the same, refuse to read between the lines, tactic Daryl does but against him and Daryl really doesn't want to admit how annoying it is. Jesus already knows and Daryl thinks his amused twinkling eyes say he loves having the shoe on the other foot.

“Come on, you know. That we…. Cuz we's always together and living together… Shit I didn't want noone thinking...”

Daryl gives up, he can't find the words. He doesn't know how to say that he didn't want anyone thinking Jesus would be dumb enough to love a guy like him without insulting Jesus.  Jesus sighs and sips his whisky. The light of the fire is flickering across his face making his hair glow a golden shade of brown and his eyes look as bright as they do in the sunshine. He decides to have mercy on Daryl. He does know what Daryl is hinting at, that people might think they were a couple. Something Jesus himself had considered on a few late sleep deprived nights out on runs when he missed Daryl and knew he would be waiting for him at the gate when he got back.

“Would it be the wrong idea?”

Jesus voice is small and hesitant as he looks at Daryl. Neither of them say anything. Daryl was afraid of this. He knows Jesus was giving him the same looks he gave Jesus . He wasn't dumb but he knows this would be. He knows that if Jesus just knew him better, saw who he really was he wouldn't want anything to do with him.

“You don't know me. Wouldn't be askin that if ya did.”

Jesus scoffs and grabs Daryl's flask refilling it and handing it back while he thinks.

“Daryl. I’m just going to be direct. I like you. I do. It sucked this week when you were running away from me and ignoring me. I thought I’d done something and I couldn't figure out what it was. I thought maybe I’d scared you off because I was being too obvious but then Rick talked to me after the meeting. He told me He noticed we had been getting close. He thanked me for bringing you home and then he threatened me”

Daryls head shoots up.

“He did what?”

Daryls fists ball around the arms of his chair. Jesus smirks at Daryl's protective reaction a small thrill shooting up his spine despite the logical part of his brain shouting that he really doesn't need anyone to protect him. Normally he finds that sort of thing insulting but coming from Daryl it feels much more endearing. Daryl doesn't defend people because he thinks they can't handle themselves he does it because he cares and Jesus loves being on the list of people Daryl cares about.

“It was kind of funny actually. He was just warning me not to hurt you or else I’d have to deal with him. I didn't point out that I could knock him on his ass faster than he could blink. I just let him do the big brother thing. It was cute really, he cares about you. He wants what's best for you. I do to so I get it I guess. I can't say I wouldn't do the same thing if some guy was cozying up to you. I’d want to make sure they knew not to fuck it up.”

Daryl is staring at Jesus hearing him swear wasn't necessarily uncommon but It might be a result of the alcohol because Jesus eyes do look a little glassy. Daryl hears Jesus say “Some guy” in his head again and he swallows a nervous laugh. It felt right to hear it but he hadn't ever heard it from anyone out loud before. There has never been a time in his life that another person casually accepted his sexuallity like that. It feels so strange and so good to Daryl and he takes a big gulp from the flask. Rick had talked to Jesus about the same thing he had talked to Daryl about but he finds it a little harder to hold the grudge he was harboring before. He shakes his head following the burn of the alcohol.

“Ricks gotta mind his own business.”

“Well if he did that we would be less drunk and ignoring each other so I don't really have it in me to be mad at him.”

Daryls body feels relaxes and when he looks over at Jesus he sees the man has kicked his feet out and has slouched low down into his seat looking contentedly at the flames. His whole body feels warm. Jesus decides not to mention what else Rick had told him when he sees the relaxed way Daryl is sipping his flask.

“I’m sorry.”

Daryl hears himself say the words before he decides to say anything at all. Jesus looks at him with a small smile.

“For ignoring me? Or for telling me I don't know you?”

Daryl had forgotten he had said that.

“Ignoring you, I’s right about you not known’ me. There’s a whole lot I aint never told ya.”

“Well not everything I know about you is things you’ve told me. Besides you don't know about me either. That doesn't mean you don't know me.”

Daryl swallows a lump. He feels like there is no going back.

“I wanna know ‘bout ya.”

He almost looks away but he pushes the urge away, he likes the fuzzy way Jesus smiles at him when he says it.

“How about we trade information then? Something about you for something about me.”

Daryl chews on his thumbnail. He wants to say yes but he doesn't know where to start.

“A’ight, You first.”

Jesus isnt surprised by that condition he leans forward and clears his throat.

“Alright, well I grew up in a group home. Kids came and went but I was there for about 9 years until I turned 18 and left with nothing but a backpack and 200 dollars.”

Daryl takes a moment to absorb that. He had pictured Jesus growing up in a nice suburban home with loving parents and good grades. He seems so well adjusted and tidy. Daryl decides he will just meet Jesus secrets with the same version of his.

“I grew up in backwoods Georgia. Lived in a trailer most a my life after my ma burned the house down smokin’ in bed. Lost her and everythin’ else when that happened. Cept Pa’s bike and the clothes I’s wearin’.”

Jesus scoots his chair closer to both Daryl and the fire leaning his head sideways and curling his knees up in front of him. He looks so invested and Daryl feels like he could run right out of this camp if he could just make his legs move.

“I learned martial arts after I got jumped on the street for being gay. I got the shit beat out of me so bad I had to miss school for 2 weeks. After that I didn't want to ever feel that helpless again.“

Daryl looks at the cracked leather of his boots stretched out in front of him he answers quickly before he has time to back out.

“Ma Pa used to beat the shit outta me. All the time, didn't need no reason most a the time. Merle used ta try and keep me from it till he was gone in Juvie or out the house. Then it was just me and Pa.”

“Merle?”

Jesus asks for clarification.

“He was my brother. Not like Rick, he was blood, just about all he was too. He was a nasty son of a bitch. Racist, sexist, Homophobic, Fucked with my head as much as pa.”

Jesus looks solemn for a moment. He has to remind himself that neither of those men are around for him to beat up but the desire is intense.

“Rick said something about him. Said he should have gotten you from the sanctuary so he could be a better brother to you than Merle ever was.”

Daryls heart feels heavy. Rick is already a better brother to him than Merle. He hoped Rick knew that.

“I’m glad it was you though.”

Jesus looks surprised.

“Why?”

Daryl ducks his head.

“I dunno.”

Jesus giggles, honest to god giggles and Daryl's ears turn red.

“What’s funny?”

His voice is gravely from the whisky. He's starting to feel sloppy and happy. He missed whisky by the fire. It had been a long time.

“You're just cute.”

Daryls squirms in his seat.

“Knock that off.”

Jesus smiles fondly.

The Lookout: Rick and Maggie

Rick sighs leaning back and turning towards Maggie who is looking tired. Watching the two men talk without being able to hear what's being said can get a little tedious and Maggie has driven for hours and set up a camp site all on her own while pregnant. She must be beat.

“I remember back when I was workin’ in the force I used to have ta stake out a place with Shane and he would always fall asleep ‘fore anythin’ happened.”

Maggie looks towards Rick groggily. She hadn't known that Shane, Rick's best friend. She had only met him after. She had known the Shane that was consumed with guilt and jealousy the man who turned on his partner. She smiles softly and grabs another handful of their dwindling popcorn.

“Well I can't say I ever wanted ta be like Shane before but if napping comes with the package I might change my mind.”

Rick chuckles leaning to bump his shoulder into Maggies.

“I think you’d a been a good police officer. Women sometimes had trouble workin’ the job. People didn't take em serious or somethin’, it got under more than a few people's skin they ended up doin’ somethin’ stupid tryin’ to prove they could...but it wouldn't a got to you. Same way you ended up leadin’ Hilltop I think you’d a been a sheriff in no time.”

Maggie leans towards Rick resting her head on his shoulder while she chews.

“Thankyou Rick. I forget sometimes that you used to be an officer but it's just ‘casue that's who you are. You look out for people.”

“That's who you are too.”

They smile at each other again before turning back to the less than eventful happenings in the camp.

The Campsite: Jesus and Daryl

Jesus is still looking at Daryl with a goofy grin when he starts talking.

“I think it's my turn to share something . Hmm. Um my first boyfriend was a really jerky closeted guy. The whole thing had to be kept secret and he told everyone I had raped him when they found out we were dating. I had to change schools.”

Daryl can't hide his shock.

“Seriously? “

“Honest. I haven't had a serious relationship since. I just couldn't.”

“What a coward. Throwing ya under the bus jus’ cuz he was scared a lookin’ in the mirror. Hope he didn't make it.”

Jesus bust out laughing. The way Daryl unquestioningly takes Jesus side, not even batting an eye, it sends tingles over Jesus’s skin and he finds he might be a little more drunk than he realized. He looks at Daryl for a moment seeing the way the dirt on his arms makes the curve of his muscles stand out. The frayed edges of his shirts arm hole sticking out under his leather vest. Jesus takes a big breath realizing he forgot to breath that entire time. He turns his gaze to the fire so he can gather himself.

“There's no way he made it he had a maid and a driver. He probably didn't even tie his own shoes.”

Daryl laughs now too.

“What a winner, why ya even bother with em?”

Jesus sombers up a bit.

“Well I sort of figured it was be with him or be alone forever. Didn't really turn out like I was wrong.”

Daryl doesn't know what to say. He wants to tell Jesus that isnt true but he can't make the words form it's like his tongue is too heavy. Jesus sees the gears turning in Daryl's head and they share a meaningful glance.

“Ya had it rougher than I thought. “

Jesus smirks spinning his half full bottle between his fingers. That isn't the first time he has heard that from someone. He never quite figured out why people always assumed he has it all together. To him it's obvious how much of a mess he is.

“You had it just about as rough as I’d figured. Which was much more rough than you deserved.”

The way Daryls chest expanded when Jesus spoke made him feel like he was going to burst. He felt for a brief moment like he might cry but he pushes it down. There is something so warm and comfortable about talking to Jesus that makes Daryl just wanted to curl up in it and never leave.

“I ain't nothin’.”

Daryl says it like he has said it to himself 100 times today already. He remembers hearing it everyday from his Pa, from Merle, from the cops always taling him looking for a reason to lock him up. Jesus’s voice is a welcome distraction from those thoughts.

“Rick told me something else. He told me you said I could do better. Is that true?”

Daryl squeezes his eyes closed. Silently cursing Rick again, he hands his empty flask over to Jesus who takes it but doesn't refill it, waiting for his answer. Daryl realizes Jesus thinks he won't answer, thinks he will need to keep something in his pocket to bargain with.

“Ya, cuz ya can. Could do a hell of a lot better than some middle aged, good fer nothin’ redneck, who don't know a damn thing about relationships.”

Jesus tentatively gets up leaving the flask behind and moving to stand close to the fire, he gestures for Daryl to do the same. When Daryl is stood beside him he turns standing nearly chest to chest with Daryl whose breath catches in his throat. Jesus looks powerful and the way shadows are flickering across his features only enhances it. He looks every bit like his name sake. He touches the bottle to Daryl's chest and when there hands meet on the neck Daryl thinks he might pass out.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully. You are one of the strongest people I've ever met. You're brave and smart and loyal and you have a big heart. The very first thing I noticed about you was the fierce closeness you share with your family. It amazed me and the more I was around you the more I wanted that closeness for myself. I never stayed at Hilltop long before you and Maggie showed up. I'm no good at relationships I don't know how to do this but I want to try.”

Daryl is taking small shallow breaths unable to keep himself from watching the way Jesus’s lips move while he talks. Standing so close together feels like the whole world has melted away and they are the only two things that exist. Jesus reaches up and trails a delicate touch from Daryl's hairline to under his chin. The shorter man getting a better view of Daryl’s face looking up at him. Daryls organs feel like they are shaking and he brings the bottle to his lips feeling the ghost of Jesus own on it. Every nerve in Jesus’s body is on fire. He can't remember the last time he put himself out there like this he feels like he is walking the plank. When Daryl brings the bottle away from his mouth Jesus watches his lips. He sees the way  they shine with the remnants of whisky and Jesus unconsciously licks his own. Thankfully Daryl speaks up.

“‘M scarred. I never … I never nothin’ Hangin’ around ma brother and his skinhead friends I couldn't let noone know. Till It was too late.”

“It’s not too late.”

Jesus crushes the distance between them bringing his hands behind Daryl's head and burying them in his hair. Daryl closes his eyes at the contact.

“Is this okay?”

Jesus voice is just a whisper. Daryl nods his head and when he does his forehead lightly bumps into the top of Jesus head. They stand their for a moment until Daryl can feel Jesus’s breath on his face.

“Would it be okay if I kissed you?”

Daryls heart is in his throat but he nods again and gives a sort of grunt unable to speak through the tightness in his throat. The gentle press of Jesus lips against his feels like the first breath after a coma. His entire body is electric and he is dropping the bottle of whisky to tangle his hands into Jesus hair. A surprised gasp leaves Jesus before it's smothered by the fierce pushback from Daryl's lips. Daryl finds that kissing is less about knowing what you're doing than he thought. His body knows and his mind doesn't have time to question it. Jesus places a hand on Daryl's chest breaking them apart.

“Hold on.”

Jesus lips look plump and bruised and his eyes are wide paired with his wild hair Daryl thinks he has never seen him look more beautiful, a similar thought is passing through Jesus’s mind when he catches his breath.

“M’ sorry”

The doubt Daryl had avoided before is bubbling up now.

“No, that was perfect. I’m just… I needed a second.”

Jesus thumb is gently stroking Daryl's collarbone and Daryl's hands have shifted to cup both of Jesus shoulders. Daryl can feel a slight shake under his hands so he pulls Jesus in holding the back of his head as he tucks it into the crook of his neck. The embrace feeling somehow just as electrifying as the kiss. Jesus lets out a shaky sigh gripping Daryls vest in his fist and relaxing into him. Daryl’s mind is spinning. He doesn't ever want to let go. There is a sound in the distance a rustling and a clang followed by a thud. Both men freeze in their embrace.

“Do you think?”

”Shh.”

Daryl strains his ears his mind turning over the possibilities. He pulls Jesus back looking into his face still gripping him as he gestures with his head for Jesus to circle around and come at the noise from the other side. Jesus understands and nods quickly pulling his beanie and gloves from his pockets and putting them on.

The Lookout: Rick and Maggie

Rick untangles himself from the collapsed and broken camping chair as Maggie tries to catch her breath between fits of laughter. Rick had been standing on his chair trying to hold in his excitement as he witnessed the scout and the archer finally kiss. It took every bit of restraint  he had not to hoot out a victory cry. Then his foot had gone through the worn fabric of the chair's seat and the entire thing had collapsed the metal bars clanking together before Rick hit the ground hard.  He manages to free his leg from where it's trapped.

Maggie stands to try and help Rick but he waves her off the red in his cheeks finally fading. He brushes his hands on his pants before returning his gaze to the men at the camp site. He moves his binoculars around trying to figure out where they went and when he can't find them his heart rate spikes.

“Maggie?”

She is assessing the busted chair with a clicking tongue.

“Hmm?”

She asks her thoughts elsewhere.

“Maggie? Where did they go?”

Maggies attention snaps back to the current situation and she quickly scrambles over to her own binoculars. The two of them scan the clearing again their panic edging closer as Maggie can't find them either.

“I dunno they were right there just a minute ago. You don't think somethin’ happened?”

“Maybe they went into the tent?”

Rick asks hopefully, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. A rustle to his left his Rick tensing and then there is a hand wrapped around his neck and a voice next to his ear.

“I don't think they are in the tent.”

Jesus’s voice is a mock version of Rick's as he says it, the southern drawl sounding goofy coming from him. Rick relaxes not worried now that the arm pressed to his throat will end his life.

“Jesus, you scared the crap outta me.”

In front of him Maggie is clutching her chest and glaring up at Daryl who has both his arms locked around her pinning her arms to her sides above the elbow. It looks more like a hug than an attack. Rick thinks Jesus grip might looks similarly harmless to Maggie and he smiles the relief finally flooding through him. They were all accounted for and unharmed.

“So. You guys worked it out then?”

Daryl drops his arms from around Maggie and steps forward like he might hit Rick but Jesus has spun them around and placed himself in front of Rick just as fast.

“We sure did, Maggie looks pretty tired, scheming sure takes alot out of a pregnant lady huh?”

Maggie looks at the ground guiltily as Jesus continues talking.

“Since we have a run to go on in the morning I think we outta rest up. You got watch Rick right?”

Jesus asks but he is already walking towards the clearing down the hill followed closely by Daryl and Rick sees that it isn't actually a question at all. He looks behind him seeing Maggie zip the flaps of the tent closed and realizes he is alone. He shifts turning around again and sighs.

The next morning the group decides to take the car to the town 2 miles over rather than walk for Maggie's sake. When Rick falls asleep on the way there the group takes mercy on him and clears out the clinic without him. Maggie finds as many excuses as she can to wander away from the two men when she sees the way their arms brush or their gazes lock. Rick might have made a mess interrupting her plans but he certainly sped things up too. She grabs a bottle of minty toothpaste so Rick can give it to Michonne. She thinks that there ought to be a good reward in it for him.

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