pls be best friends

after midnight

“You’re my best friend.”

Part I / Part II
Pairing: Shawn Mendes x female character
Rating: Mature
Words: 3126

A/N: This is loosely based on some lines in Blink-182’s song After Midnight, and you should listen to it bc it’s a great tune. I started this ages ago and forgot about it and when I found it I loved it. I also snuck in requests - 3 from this and 79 and 148 from this. I hope you like it ^^


His hands are under her thighs, keeping her close, and her chest is pushed against him, her arms around his neck. Shawn walks lazily through the dark, moving carefully so as to not let her fall.

“You know, I wouldn’t do this if you weren’t my best friend,” Shawn slurs.

“I know,” she grins and turns her head on his shoulder to place a messy kiss on his cheek.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” Shawn sighs, pushing up on his toes with force so that she moves higher up on his back, then stalks on slowly along the trail.

“You wouldn’t have had to. This is your fault by the way, you had it coming,” she accuses.

“How is it my fault?” His head snaps to the side and he stumbles, almost falling, but his hand takes hold of a low branch just in time.

“Well, you decided it was a good idea to take a shortcut through the woods while we’re both drunk this late at night and I’m wearing heels that are higher than Wendy was when we left, so it’s only fair you help me out by not letting me trip and die.”

Shawn laughs at her dramatic wording of the situation. “But you had fun though, didn’t you?”

“Loved it! Birthday girl is as alive as the night. You used to have a crush on her, right? Didn’t you get her number before? You never told me how that went.”

“We did talk, but we just stayed friends because she’s been with her girlfriend for years,” Shawn says, chuckling.

“Oh, that explains it. Girls are either blind or gay if they pass on you, because you’re a catch and you’re hot. I think you’re like, really hot.”

Shawn stops walking and turns his head to look at her. This isn’t something she would have said had she not been drinking earlier. He likes to think that their friendship is strong because of the way it has so many sides; they crack jokes at each other’s expense, and they bicker like an old married couple, but they also understand each other like one would their soulmate. They can read one another with a single glance, and they’re always there when the other needs them. They casually tell each other ‘love ya’ when they hang up the phone or when they text goodnight, but platonic is the word he would use to describe them. They’ve even given each other pep talks in order to boost their egos in preparation for first dates. This however, is nothing like that platonic love. These are uninhibited words, an honest thought, because she would never admit to finding him attractive like this.  

As if she’s realised what she just said, she clears her throat and brings her hands to his shoulders and loosens the grip of her thighs around him. “I think I can walk now.”

Shawn bends his knees to let her down and he realises that she must have been lying because she steadies herself on every other tree that they pass. They walk the rest of the trail in silence, which isn’t unusual for them when they’re alone together; they can spend hours sitting next to each other without speaking while he plays video games and she reads a book with her legs across his thighs. But this stillness is a shy lack of words that are replaced by the buzzing of bugs and an owl hooting somewhere among the trees.

A while later, they arrive at the edge of the forest and then they stagger through a suburb he’s not sure he recognises, but the houses look similar to the ones in his area so they keep going until he feels dizzy, the last of the consumed alcohol getting to him. They sit down on the sidewalk in front of somebody’s garage for a while as she rubs his shoulders and back as he fights the nausea.

“I swear, if you throw up…”

“It would be pretty embarrassing for me to puke on Craig’s driveway,” Shawn says.

“That’s his house?” She turns to the garden and recognises the place. “Then by all means, go right ahead. He was such a dick after the breakup. He deserves some vomit on his lawn.”

“Nope,” Shawn replies, slowly standing up. “I think I’m good now.” He starts to walk and she drunkenly waddles behind him.

They’ve gotten themselves deeper in the area when their roles flip, and she’s the drunker one as Shawn starts to sober up, and she seems to have gained a sudden adrenaline rush.

“Did you have one of the brownies?” Shawn asks.

“No, but I was there when they were smoking,” she giggles with a grin on her face.

“You are so high,” he teases.

“Who cares?! Carpe noctem!” she yells into the night, then turns and starts to walk in reverse.

“What does that mean?” Shawn laughs, affected by her contagious bliss.

“It’s like carpe diem, except, you know, night,” she smirks at him and shrugs, then turns around to skip ahead.

“Let’s carpe this frickin’ noctem!”

She looks so alive in that moment, with a big smile plastered on her face and her arms spread out as she runs. Shawn thinks that there is nothing else he would be doing than following her down this street right now and he feels his chest fill with a strange feeling he doesn’t quite get. He follows her and wraps his arms around her waist, spinning her around him. She shrieks and squiggles free of his grip before turning to him. Giggling, she pokes the end of his nose with her fingertip before running off again. 

Shawn catches up to her and slows her down with a hand on her shoulder then hooks his arm around hers for good measure, because the alcohol and the marijuana has definitely gotten to her, and the last thing they need is for her to run into a street lamp and come home bruised.

They wander around for what feels like ages, their slightly drunken state paired with their carelessness doing nothing to help, but Shawn realises a while later that the street signs are no longer blurry. He’s unsure of where exactly they are relative to his place so he tries to remember how the streets are placed, but his mind still feels a little groggy. They follow a curve of streetlamps, and after a while he understands that they’ve been walking in circles.

“Are we lost or do you know where we are?”

“I’m not so sure anymore…” Shawn trails off, slowly spinning around to have a look at their surroundings.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I may be an idiot, but I’m not stupid,” he defends. He spots another street sign that he recognises and finally, he figures it out. “Come here, I think I know where to go now.”

He decides that walking down a straight road is a much better idea and it takes them another twenty minutes that feel more like an hour, but soon enough they’re in front of Shawn’s backyard, slowly opening the gate and sneaking in like thieves.

“Home at last,” he sighs in relief.

“It wouldn’t have taken so long if we hadn’t gotten lost,” she mutters.

“I’ve taken that shortcut a thousand times, and that’s never happened to me,” he defends.

“Have you ever taken it after drinking?”

“You make a fair point.” Shawn shrugs, and his eyes fall upon the dark window of his sister’s room. “We have to be quiet,” he says, holding a finger in front of his mouth. “I think they’re asleep.”

“I’m not gonna have any problems being quiet, you’re the one with long, clumsy legs. And your balance is shit when you’re drunk,” she taunts.

“For your information, I have sobered up quite a bit. See,” he says, lifting one leg behind him as he leans forward with his arms spread out, but he puts his foot back down when he wavers.

“By the looks of your balance and your face you haven’t.”

“My face?” He asks, his fingers automatically going up to his cheek.

“You blush after two beers.”

“I do not.”

She pulls out her phone and quickly snaps a picture of him with the flash on, and he’s momentarily blinded when the light hits his face. When he blinks his eyes open he sees the picture of himself, eyelids tightly shut, nose scrunched up, and yes, cheeks flushed a bright shade of pink.

“Shit.”

“Damn right,” she says. “Let’s get inside now, I’m fucking freezing.”

“No, wait, I just had the best idea!” he grins. “What if we get in the jacuzzi?”

“Shawn, it’s two am.”

“You were the one who said ‘carpe noctem’. Are you too chicken to follow through?”

“No, but I didn’t bring extra underwear,” she whines.

“We can just get in naked!” He grins, an excited look on his face. “I promise to let you borrow my clothes,” he bribes.

She squints thoughtfully. “Fine. But if I’m going commando, so are you.”

“Deal.”

She undresses and gets into the water first as he turns away, and then he makes her cover her eyes as he sheds his clothes. He carefully dips his feet into the water first, then sinks into the welcoming heat.

“You can open your eyes now,” he says.

“It’s not like I needed to close them anyway, it’s pitch black. I can hardly see you.”

“Can you see me now?” Shawn asks as he moves closer until he’s sitting right next to her.

“Yes, your cheeks are like a neon sign,” she chuckles.

“Fuck off,” he laughs. “As much as a dick you are, this is nice. Let’s  make this a tradition. Every time we come to my place drunk, we get in the tub.”

“Are you serious?” She laughs. “What about during winter?”

“Right…” Shawn mumbles and thinks it over for a second. “Quickie. We just get in and get out.”

“Alright, but we get hot chocolate after.” She smiles at him quickly before her face falls. “I just realised that we’re gonna freeze our asses off when we get out of the tub. Can we just stay here forever?”

“I don’t think my parents would be too happy to find us naked in the morning.”

“Your parents,” she groans. “We have to get out.”

“But it’s so cold. Think we can just live with the embarrassment tomorrow?”

She deadpans. “I’ll bake you a cake if you get us towels,” she offers, her face now sporting a sweet smile.

Shawn makes his second agreement for the night, negotiating his way to a two tier cake with muffins on the side, even though he knows she would have baked for him anyways, then runs inside, knowing full well that she has a good view of his arse and will most likely tease him about it later. Shuffling through a cabinet in the bathroom, he finds two large towels and hurries back outside. When he returns with one of the towels hanging from his hips, she’s sitting on the edge of the tub with her back turned to him, arms twisted around her bare body. Her shivering figure is a pitiful sight, so he walks up from behind and wraps the other towel around her.

She flinches at the unsuspected contact, but relaxes when she sees it’s him. “Thanks,” she says, pulling the towel tighter against her. “I got it, you can let go now,” she says, looking up at his eyes when he doesn’t remove his arms.

“Uh, yeah, sorry.” He swallows and takes a couple of steps back, giving her some space.


Shawn passes her a t-shirt and steps into a pair of sweatpants himself while she pulls his shirt over her head, then slides in under the big blanket next to her, sighing at the comfort of his own bed.

“I love your pillows. They’re so big,” she says, shoving her cheek into one of them as she hugs another.

“Are you still drunk?”

She reminds him of his cat when she was still a kitten, how she would fall asleep curled into her own body, and he thinks that she looks pretty damn cute the way she resembles the feline, wrapped in his blanket and surrounded by pillows.

“No, ‘m sober, I swear,” she mumbles.

“Good, then I don’t have to take care of your drunk ass.” Shawn tugs the pillow that’s in her arms and places it beneath his head, smirking when he sees her appalled expression.

“That’s not fair, I’m freezing and it was keeping me warm,” she says, pulling the blanket tighter around herself.

“I need a pillow too,” he says. “But I can cuddle you, I’m warm.”

She places her palm hesitantly on his bare chest, then grins. “Oh my God, you are a furnace. Please hold me,” she pleads although he has already offered to, removing the barrier between them and shuffling closer.

Shawn voluntarily wraps his arms around her and she snuggles into him as he quickly rubs his hand against her back to generate heat. He inhales the smell of her shampoo, a floral scent he can’t quite place, and that strange feeling that he still doesn’t understand comes back. He feels his heart beat faster and he wonders if she realises, because lying in bed like this with her, this close, reminds him of the first time he had a boy in his bed. It reminds him of how he felt when the boy had placed his fingers on Shawn’s cheek and gently kissed him, how they had slowly explored each other with nervous hands. But he shouldn’t be feeling this way, and he definitely shouldn’t be thinking of kissing her because the person he’s holding is his best friend.

She hums and he is pulled back from his thoughts. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It’s the Canadian in me,” he chuckles.

“Uh, not technically, because you don’t have Canadian genes,” she says.

“I keep forgetting that. Well, then evolution has just done a great job with me. I’m also supposedly really hot.”

She chuckles, slapping his chest with her palm gently, and the quiet returns, but this time it’s nice. They don’t need to fill the empty air with small talk; they’re comfortable like this. Along with the comfort comes the thought of a them in Shawn’s mind.

“Did you know that I had a crush on you when we were twelve?” Shawn doesn’t know where the first words to break the silence come from, but they slip past his lips before he can stop himself.

“What?!” She moves abruptly, resting on her forearms as she faces him.

“Yeah. It wasn’t as much of a crush as I thought you were cute, but I also kinda wanted to kiss you, if that makes sense?”

“That sounds like a crush to me,” she laughs. She smiles above him, and Shawn think he sees a faint blush on her cheeks but tells himself he’s imagining things, but then she speaks, “I thought you were cute, too. I mean, I still think you’re cute. Now you’re my best friend.”

He grins, scanning her face for any message, but she just has a faint smile on her lips. Then he notices how her eyes move down, and he wonders, this is when he’s supposed to kiss her, right? That’s how she’d instructed him when he was nervous for his first kiss. He remembers how she had held his face between her hands, whispered against his lips, telling him how to make it better by going slow, and how she had pulled back just before their lips touched. She had told him that girls had a look on their face when they wanted a boy to kiss them, and he was almost certain that this was that look. Hell, he had kissed plenty of girls since, but this is his favourite person, and this means so much more.

He’s hesitant, but he recognises the movement of her eyes and how she licks her lips, and he knows. He lifts his head the slightest bit when she moves hers lower. Shawn thinks everything has stopped, his heart, time, the air around them; everything feels still. Then he realises how absurd the situation is, and he bursts into laughter.

She places her hand over his mouth, attempting to silence him while she giggles into his chest. He makes a strained noise under her hand, and licks her palm when she doesn’t remove it.

“Ew! Why would you do that?!” She wipes her palm against his stomach, and her hand lingers there for a second, and then her eyes look down to his exposed abdomen. “Shut up,” she mutters, when she sees the smirk on his face.

They lie like that for a while, quiet, close to each other, and grinning from ear to ear.

“You’re my best friend,” he says.

Then he moves closer again. She mirrors his movement, tilting her head slightly to the side. Their lips are nearly touching when he pauses, because he has to ask.

“Promise we’ll be okay after?” Shawn whispers the words, terrified of what they mean and what the impending kiss could mean.

“I promise,” she whispers just as quietly. Then she leans in until their lips are touching.

The kiss is sweet, innocent, and gently lingering. But then Shawn’s fingers move to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear and his fingertips brush her neck when he retracts his hand, but her neck feels like a good place for his fingers to be so he rests them there and slowly strokes the skin. She gasps at the feeling, and her mouth falls open, and then the kiss becomes kisses and they become fast and sloppy until sounds can be heard between their mouths. They pull away for a second to catch their breaths, but immediately resume. Shawn’s hand crawls up her back between the shirt and her flesh, and he rubs her back soothingly.

“Mm, too much tongue,” she mumbles against his lips.

Shawn pulls back, offended. “Too much teeth,” he counters.

“Sorry, I’ll be nice,” she laughs, delivering a gentle peck on his mouth.

Her lips are soft against his, and she just feels so nice, and Shawn thinks that he wouldn’t mind doing this more often.

“I think I like kissing you,” he mumbles.

“I think I like kissing you too,” she replies.

They kiss again for a while, slowly this time, until they stop because Shawn almost dozes off. So they hold each other close with loose grips and gentle hands and talk about everything but the kiss, because they don’t need to.

anonymous asked:

being a cishet girl on tumblr is literally the most unwelcoming feeling in the world lmao

being a lgbt girl in society is literally the most unwelcoming feeling in the world lmao

Deadpool!Kenny & Spider-Man!Kyle

for @teammysterion​ and inspired by this post ♥ ♥ ♥

i love this au so much and im just so upset i hadn’t thought of this years ago, it was so obvious

me, on the outside:

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