angela-moore1996 - Tumblr blog

angela-moore1996 · 6 months

Text

I Love You, Donna Karan

show: boy meets world <3

pairing: shawn hunter x angela!reader

synopsis: pretty much exactly like s5 e8 of bmw (just the shawngela parts <3)

word count: 3.5k

comments, likes, reblogs, and suggestions highly appreciated <3

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

"So, I guess that's it. It's over," you sighed, gently pulling your hands back from Shawn's. You sat in a booth at Chubby's across from him, and he was letting you down easy. Not that you were phased. You knew what you were signed up for dating him.

"Two weeks," Shawn smiled apologetically, clasping his hands together. "You knew that going in."

"I did," you nodded, grabbing your things and standing up to leave.

"Wait...w-where are you going?" Shawn looked up at you with his puppy dog eyes.

You scoffed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were done letting me down easy. Go ahead," you raised your eyebrows as you sat back down.

Shawn looked a bit taken aback, "Never mind."

"Are you okay?" you frowned.

"You're just taking this so well," he scrunched up his face like he couldn't understand how someone could still be standing after he rejected them.

"It was a great two weeks. We had fun," you stated plainly.

"Yeah, we did," he agreed.

"So?"

"So...see ya?"

You quirked your lips, nodding slightly before grabbing your things and leaving the booth. You glanced back at him before climbing up the stairs to the exit, unable to figure out his true intentions.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

Shawn Hunter might be a heartbreaker, but you were no saint either. You dated around, landing on Ted, a guy from your history class who seemed semi-interesting. You were regretting your earlier judgements as he seemed to love talking about himself and stealing your fries more than anything. You sat across from him in Chubby's, consequently the same booth you had shared with Shawn that day you broke up last week.

"So, Angela, the coach says, 'Scooter!' That's what he calls me, Scooter," the boy smiled, so full of himself it made you physically cringe. "'Go in there and save the day.'"

"Gee what happened, Scooter?" you rested your chin in your palm, trying for a grin. How could someone be so interested in himself and so boring to talk to at the same time? You have to make an effort not to roll your eyes. That would be rude. At this point, you would give anything not to hear another one of his heroic tales from the lacrosse team. He was on the bench for God's sake.

"Well, I saved the day," he continued, pointing at himself with both hands like it wasn't clear enough that he couldn't talk about anything else. Then, he leaned forward and had the audacity to ask, "You wanna make out?"

Thankfully, your knight in shining armor appeared...in the form of Shawn. This was going to be interesting. At this point, anything was better than having to press your lips against Ted's crusty, chapped ones.

"Hey, Shawn," you reached out to pat his arm.

"Hey," Shawn replied. He reached down and picked up your book. "Is this...a book of sonnets?" he sounded surprised for whatever reason.

"Yes," you said incredulously, raising one eyebrow.

Shawn started giggling maniacally, and for some reason, it was contagious. You laughed lightly, asking, "Why are you giggling?"

"Am I?" His voice broke a little because of how high-pitched it was. This only made him giggle even more.

"What's the matter with you?" you frowned, genuinely confused by his behavior.

He turned around, still laughing like a little kid. You saw that he was locking eyes with Cory, who said something to him that you didn't quite catch.

Shawn turned around, locking eyes with you now. He stared straight into your eyes, and you were more than a little weirded out.

"Shawn, why are you looking at me like that?" You were serious now. You didn't like how strange he was being at all.

"Because I never have before...," he trailed off, dropping your book before walking away to talk to Cory.

What a weirdo, you thought before shaking your head and turning back to Ted.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

On Monday morning, you walked into school early to ask Mr. Feeny a question about the history test. You found Shawn talking to Cory (who's surprised?) and walked up to them, hoping to talk to Shawn about the weirdness at Chubby's. Cory caught your eye, and it seemed like he was announcing your arrival to Shawn which caused him to turn around, look terrified, and bolt in the other direction.

Okay, now he was being even weirder than that night at Chubby's. You were suddenly nervous which made no sense. You were Angela Moore, you didn't get butterflies over boys.

Shawn ran into the janitor's closet and slammed the door behind him. Cory tried to open the door, but Shawn had evidently locked it.

"Hi, Angela," Cory smiled apologetically.

"Hi, Cory," you smiled back, raising your eyebrows.

"Uh, Shawn's in the closet," Cory explained as if you didn't just see him bolt in two seconds ago.

You walked up to the closet, pressing your ear lightly against the door. "Hey, Shawn," you greeted.

"Angela! You smell nice," Shawn replied.

You frowned. "What?" you mouthed to Cory. You rolled your eyes, walking away.

"Hey, Topanga," you greeted as you passed her.

"Hey, Angela," she replied back, walking to Cory.

You went to get some water from the drinking fountain before realizing how chapped your lips were. You knew Topanga would have some lip gloss you could borrow, so you walked back over to the corner she and Cory were in. Shawn was with them, so you guessed he got over his stay in the janitor's closet. When he saw you, he tried to bolt back into the closet before Topanga stopped him and pushed him toward you. What was going on?

"Hey, Shawn," you laughed a little at the frazzled state he was in.

"Hi," he smiled shyly.

"Do you wanna go out and get something to eat later?" you asked. This way you could talk to him, just as friends, without it being weird.

"I'd like that," he replied.

You nodded. "Oh, I saw this, and I thought of you," you smiled, pulling out a seashell you found on the lake trip you took with your dad the day before. You handed it to him before leaving, "See ya."

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

The next day, you found yourself at Chubby's again after school. You picked a table near the stairs this time, with high swivel chairs. Shawn walked over to where you were sitting after picking a song on the jukebox.

"Vivaldi's Four Seasons, I love that," you smiled up at him.

"So do I!" Shawn sounded genuinely enthusiastic.

"It's so beautiful. If you close your eyes, you can actually see the seasons change," you closed your eyes briefly, seeing it even now.

"I said that!" Shawn was smiling a mile wide. "I said the exact same thing." He took a sip of his cola.

"You know, I really like hanging out with you. Maybe we could see a movie later on this week," you suggested.

"I hear there's a new Van Damme movie opening," Shawn grinned, almost as if he knew...

"I love Van Damme," you beamed at him.

"I know," he let out a laugh. "So, how about Friday night?"

"Oh, I have plans with Ted that night," you rolled your eyes.

"You're still going out with Ted?" Shawn sounded taken aback.

"Yeah," you said slowly, scoffing a little.

"Oh." Why did he sound...disappointed? "I'd better go check on our food." He turned to leave.

What the heck was that? you thought, sighing. We're just friends, why is he acting so weird?

"Well, here we go," Shawn returned with your fries.

"Great," you picked one up to munch on.

"Can I ask you something?" Shawn was staring at you again...just like the other day you were at Chubby's.

"You can ask me anything." You meant it.

"What do you think of Cory and Topanga?" he licked his lips, seemingly nervous like he needed you to tell the truth.

"I think they're a great couple," you nodded, satisfied with your response.

"Maybe we can have what they have." Well, that came out of nowhere.

"Shawn, we're not even dating," you frowned up at him.

"What do you call what we're doing right now?" Oh God, he didn't seriously think that...

"You asked me out on a date, right?" he smiled nervously.

"I asked you to go get something to eat," you stated plainly. So, this is why he was being weird. He...liked you. So why did your heart feel a pang as you let him down easy like he let you down two weeks ago? Why did you feel like saying yes to him despite everything?

"You gave me a seashell," his eyes were pleading now.

You looked down before staring back up into his eyes, "Sometimes a seashell is just a seashell." A beat.

"Look, Angela, I want to be with you more than anybody in this entire world," his eyes carried so much emotion that it was beginning to overwhelm you. "Why can't we be Cory and Topanga?"

You frowned, looking down at the food before turning your eyes back to his. "I'm sorry. I gotta go," you frowned at him, grabbing your bag and making a quick exit up the stairs.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

On Friday, you were once again at Chubby's. That place seriously got a run for its money from the entire John Adams High student body. Even now, you saw about twenty of your classmates warming the other booths.

You were in the same booth as you were during your last date with Ted. This time, he sat next to you. He was chatting it up about his favorite subject per usual: himself. You sighed, munching on a fry and listening to his pathetic lacrosse bench boy tales when in came Shawn.

Why did he always crash your dates with Ted?

This time, he cut straight to the point, heading for your booth and sliding in across from the two of you. He held his hands up, "Angela, hear me out. It will just take a minute. You don't mind, do you?" This was directed to Ted.

"You want a fry?" Ted mumbled, his mouth full. Gross.

Shawn shook his head before continuing, "Look, I read the same books as you, I listen to the same music, and I go to the same movies. So when I tell you how I feel, it is not just words."

"Hunter, I'm on a date here. Come on," Ted grumbled. You glanced at him, frowning, before turning your attention back to Shawn.

"Why are you doing this?" you needed to know. Why was he pursuing you relentlessly? So he could break your heart for real next time? "We went out. You told me it was only going to be for two weeks, and then it was going to be over."

"I know that you're scared, okay? I'm scared, too." Shawn gestured with his hands, "We both love Vivaldi, and we're both scared."

"I'm scared, too," Ted cut in. You rolled your eyes in exasperation, before turning back to Shawn.

"Shawn, you've never been in a relationship for longer than two weeks, and neither have I. We wouldn't know what to do," you stared into his eyes, searching for some sign of his sincerity.

"You know what?" Ted cut in. "This is getting too heavy for me, so I'm taking my fries and I'm leaving."

"Ted!" You cried, only halfheartedly.

"Oh, I paid for these fries," he stated before walking out.

You didn't mind him leaving that much. It almost felt like he was crashing your conversation with Shawn rather than the other way around.

"Give me a chance," you had never seen Shawn more serious in the short time you'd known him. "I-I just want to see you."

You lowered your head, glancing up at him, trying to discern whether this was a terrible idea that would crash and burn in the next week.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

You were at Barelli's the next night, next to Shawn. This was definitely a step up from Chubby's, but you weren't sure if all this was necessary. You had worn the nicest thing you owned, a hunter green sleeveless dress. The table was covered with a white tablecloth that was the cleanest thing you had ever seen, and you didn't recognize half the dishes on the menu, including the strange appetizer currently on your table.

"Shawn, this is really fancy," you gestured down at everything covering the table.

"You think this is fancy? I don't think it's that fancy," he took a sip of water as you did. As soon as the glasses left your lips, two waiters were there ready to replace them. Shawn glanced at you, trying not to show how nervous he was.

"Shawn and Angela!" you turned around, finding Cory and Topanga, dressed to the stars. "What a surprise, huh?" Cory chuckled.

"Hi, guys," Topanga looked perplexed at finding you and Shawn here.

"Talk about coincidences," Cory looked too happy for this to be accidental. Of course, he would plan something like this. "Of all the restaurants in the town."

"Yeah, and all the suits," Shawn added, which you didn't understand, but you shrugged it off.

"Enjoy," Cory and Topanga left you to find their own table.

The maitre d' appeared, "I have come to take your order. You no touch the pate. It's not good?"

"I really don't know what it is," Shawn frowned up at the maitre d'.

"It's...como si dice? Goose liver," he answered.

You swallowed, trying not to gag in front of the fancy maitre d' while Shawn made his grossed-out face at you.

"You requested it when you telephoned this afternoon," he continued.

"When I called, did I sound like I had curly hair and was ninety?" Shawn asked.

"Si," the maitre d' responded jovially.

After he left, you turned to your companion. "Shawn, you said you knew me. If you really knew me, why would you bring me here?"

Shawn hesitated, then pursed his lips before starting, "Because I have...no idea what I'm doing." Another pause. He started gesturing with his hands, "I-I don't know how to be myself around you. I really want you to like me, Angela."

"I do like you. If I didn't I wouldn't be here," you responded genuinely.

"So, then why is this so hard?" Shawn sounded slightly exasperated.

"I've never had a serious relationship either," you admitted. "Every time I got close to someone, I just figured it was best to get away before we hurt each other. Is someone gonna get hurt here, Shawn?"

Shawn looked long and hard at you before saying simply, "No. No, not if we're ourselves."

You looked down, swallowing, trying to convince yourself to believe he was being sincere.

"Hey, Eduardo," Shawn signaled over the maitre d'.

"Si?"

"Could you get rid of this and just bring us a couple of burgers?"

"You no like?" the maitre d' sounded miffed.

"No," Shawn stated simply, giving you a small smile.

"We like burgers," you added, returning the smile.

The maitre d' clapped, thankfully asking no further questions. "Barelli's is a place where all your dreams come true." He snapped his fingers at the waiter. "Two burgers!"

"Fries," you called. Very important.

"Oh, yeah, and get some ketchup, too," Shawn added. Essential.

"Hmm!" the maitre d' looked appalled, but he turned away, complying with your wishes.

Shawn turned back to you, "Do you mind if I take this tie off?"

"Oh, please, never wear a tie again, okay?" you leaned forward to loosen it for him. Shawn chuckled. "Why do you have that thing anyway? It can't be yours."

Shawn worked at loosening his tie further, tilting his head as he looked up at you, "Well, you know, I'm not one to give up any names, but...Cory. All of this was Cory." He smiled apologetically, "He's a good guy. He just wants us to have what he and Topanga have.

The two of you glanced over to the other side of the restaurant.

"That's it! I have had it!" Topanga stood up, throwing down her napkin, raising her hands up in frustration at Cory. "I don't want to put the Sweet'N Low in my purse!"

Cory shushed her vigorously, glancing around surreptitiously as if checking to make sure no one had heard her outburst. "You're going to get us in trouble in our place!"

"I don't want this to be our place!" Topanga screeched.

"You're ruining our anniversary!" Cory whined.

"What anniversary is this anyway? Is this the first time we kissed? The first time we went out? The first time we met? What? What is it?" Topanga was running her mouth a mile a minute, drilling Cory faster than you could keep up.

"It's the anniversary of the first time we ate at Barelli's! How could you forget?" poor Cory sounded genuinely upset.

"Because I hate Barelli's!" Topanga sounded even more upset. "I am 50 years away from going to Barelli's! Can't we just go downtown and grab a pretzel from a cart?!"

"Fine! I'm not making you happy? Go!" Cory shouted. "You think you're going to find somebody else at your age?"

Topanga was clearly holding back her next words, bringing her hands up, her perfect french manicure glinting in the dim lighting of the restaurant.

The maitre d' came back out with a consternated expression, "Signora Topanga, I must request that you keep your voice down!" He sounded pained.

Topanga actually growled at the maitre d' who recoiled immediately. "Thank you so much," he left quickly at that.

As comical as your friends' fight was, you couldn't help but feel nervous. "This is what scares me. You get close to someone, and you end up hating each other."

"Angela, there's nothing to be scared of," Shawn gave you that boyish grin he had perfected over his many years of flirting. "When two people are truly, truly in love, there's no way they can end up hating each other."

"Cory, look at us!" you turned your attention back to Topanga who was once again taking it out on Cory. "I am yelling at you, and you're not even getting mad at me."

"Grrr," Cory gave the saddest attempt at a growl you had ever witnessed. Even the baby lion cubs at the zoo could do better. You had to laugh at that, grinning at Shawn to know it was okay.

Topanga laughed in his face, "You call that a growl? That was pathetic."

Cory's face split into the inkling of a smile, "Well, I could never really get mad at you."

Topanga was calmer now, "Cory, I just don't want to celebrate any more occasions."

"I-I was just doing it 'cause I thought that's what you wanted," Cory looked more amused than anything else.

"No! I just want to be seventeen."

"Me too." At that, Cory cleared the table, pushing all the expensive dishes off the table where they crashed loudly into the ground. Eduardo came out of the kitchen, screaming as Cory pushed Topanga against the table, kissing her so passionately that it would make Romeo jealous.

You and Shawn grinned at them. "Shawn?"

"Angela?" he turned back to face you.

"I want what they have," you said before leaning in to plant a gentle kiss to his soft pink lips. Pulling apart, you looked up at him, noticing for the first time that there was a little green in those ocean eyes of his. You smiled at each other, realizing that everything would be okay. You would give this a try because you knew you could trust him to like you as much as you found yourself liking him.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

A week later, Shawn picked you up to come over for Thanksgiving at the apartment with Eric and Jack. The Matthews were with you, arms loaded up with various dishes for the big dinner.

Morgan opened the door to the apartment.

"Hey! Look, Jack, they found our turkey," clearly Eric had failed to procure and cook one himself. He eyed the one Mr. Feeney was holding with palpable relief written all over his face.

"Did you two actually believe that we thought you could pull this off, huh?" Mr. Matthews asked them as he walked in.

"You guys can't make toast," Morgan smirked at them.

"Eric, do you at least have some clean dishes?" Mrs. Matthews asked, disappointment already on her face.

"No," he grinned at his mom, totally unashamed at the barren state of his kitchen.

"I'll carve the bird," Mr. Feeney pronounced. "Now, everybody wants dark meat, right?"

"No!" everyone shouted in unison.

"I'm so glad I'm here, Shawn," you smiled up at him. He held out his hand for your taking before he walked the two of you into the apartment.

"Um, before we sit down, I'd like to say thanks for all the good things that have happened to us," Shawn announced to the family. "And to me," he added quietly, locking eyes with you once more.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

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angela-moore1996 · 8 months

Text

you can always turn to me

pairing: shawn hunter x reader (Cory's sister)

warnings: fluff, angst, hurt comfort

rating: pg

w/c: 3.4k (omg my longest yet!! enjoy bc this took me like a month)

summary: this one's another no plot, all fluff haha. shawn shows up at your door because his father left him...again. the situation isn't really explained, you just try to provide him with comfort basically.

a/n: reader is Cory's sister & Shawn's girlfriend (duh). I love this boy so so so much. I wish I had grown up in the 90s to see him in real time, but alas.

p.s. I will edit this later, I just need to post rn. And ofc I am open to any and all suggestions <3

❥ ୧‿︵

💌

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!

The harsh rapping on the front door made you pause the TV instantly. It was eleven o'clock on a gloomy Sunday night, and you were just getting ready for bed. To make matters worse, your parents were away on a work trip, Eric was at college, Cory and Morgan were at their friends’ houses, and the phones were down since it was storming, so you couldn't even call your friends if you found a burglar on the other side of the door.

You moved to the door cautiously on tip-toe as if the intruder could hear your footsteps over the thunder echoing deafeningly in the night sky. You grabbed your brother's old baseball bat from next to the coat rack on your way to the door because it was the nineties, and you never knew when some freak with an axe showed up on your porch like in those gory slashers your boyfriend was obsessed with.

When you reached the door, you raised the bat over one shoulder, bracing yourself for the worst.

I'm not going down, you thought to yourself. I'm like Jamie Lee Curtis in Halloween. I was born to be the final girl.

You peered through the keyhole, a cloud of trepidation hanging over you. All you saw was a dark figure with his head bent. This did not ease your anxiety further, but you were a trooper. You took a deep breath and opened the door with the hand that wasn't clutching the bat in a death grip. You were surprised that your mystery man was your boyfriend, Shawn, soaked to the bone and slightly shivering from the pouring rain, despite donning his oversized leather jacket.

“Shawn? What are you doing here?” you asked, the bat slipping out of your fingers and making a dull clattering sound as it struck the floor. “Wait, don’t answer that yet. Come inside.”

Your concern grew as you took him in. He almost looked as if he was holding back tears...or was that just the rain dripping from the tips of his hair, streaking down his somber face?

You wrapped your arms around one of his hands to bring him into the kitchen and sat him at the table.

You leaned over to grab his face and rub your thumbs under his eyes, "You're sopping wet! You look like a homeless dog!"

"Wow, thanks, babe," he tried for a smirk, but it came out weak, further drawing attention to the misery and pain he seemed to be in.

"Aw, now you just look like a sad puppy dog," you pouted to show him you were back to being serious. "What happened, baby? Here, lemme grab you a towel. You want some tea or somethin'?"

"I can't eat."

Shawn never refused food at your place, especially if you were cooking, so his loss of appetite disturbed you. His downcast eyes seemed to cast a shadow over his whole being. You hated for him to be sad. Everyone felt glum occasionally, but when Shawn was unhappy, it was like a physical burden on him, consuming his entire being and causing him to push everyone away, even his beloved girlfriend.

"Okay, baby, will you come with me to Cory's room so we can get you some fresh clothes?" you kissed his forehead to sweeten the deal, causing him to quirk his lips up momentarily before his expression turned sulky again.

"Mhmm," he mumbled softly.

You grabbed his hand and squeezed three times before leading him upstairs to your brother's room. You reached into his closet to pull out his oversized Phillies tee and a pair of dark blue plaid pajama bottoms. Cory had finally had his growth spurt earlier this year, so he and Shawn wore the same sizes now.

"Here you go, sweet boy," you gently handed him the clothes and gave him another peck on the cheek, grabbing his arms in the process. "Feel free to take a hot shower, you know, do whatever you need..." You trailed off as he wound his arms around your waist and buried his cold face in the warm crook of your neck.

"Aw, come here, baby," you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his face to your chest. "You're okay now, whatever happened, nothing's gonna hurt you, baby."

He smiled gratefully at you before you went to the door and closed it behind you to give him privacy.

You went to your own room to change into your pajamas and returned to find your melancholy lover haunting the dining table. You went over to take his hands in yours and squeezed gently, three times like always.

“Let me make you some hot cocoa, baby, then you can spill your heart out to me,” giving him a sad smile, you moved away to grab the milk and hot chocolate mix.

A couple of minutes later you set two mugs down on the kitchen table and pulled your chair really close to his, a sign that you were right there to help him deal with whatever was upsetting him so badly.

Shawn sighed and looked at the mug in front of him before saying, “It’s my dad…he’s gone.”

You had a inkling that this had to do with his father, but that didn’t stop the outburst, “Again?” The man didn’t exactly have the greatest track record of being there for his son, but you had to admit that leaving Shawn to fend for himself was getting old, especially since this was the fourth or fifth time in as many years. No one deserved to be neglected like that, nevertheless by their parents.

He nodded. “He’s looking for mom, or gone off with mom, or...I don’t know. He just left again, without even a warning this time.”

Just because this happened often, didn’t mean it hurt him any less, and the pain you saw clearly etched into his features was clear proof of that. As you looked over at Shawn, all you saw was the broken little boy who had bounced from place to place, pretty well raising himself since he was old enough to walk and talk.

“Oh, Shawn,” you said, reaching out to take his hands in yours again.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this. I had nowhere else to go,” his puppy dog eyes simply broke your heart.

"You can always turn to me, baby boy," you cooed, standing up to wrap your arms around his shoulders. Shawn smushed his face into your chest and pulled you into his lap in one swift motion. You stroked his hair with one hand and pulled him closer to you with the other, trying to convey all the love you had for him in your embrace. He seemed to be holding on to you for dear life, like he would crumble apart without your support. You hated seeing him like this. Shawn was the best thing that had ever happened to you in your very short life on this Earth, and you hated seeing him in pain because he did nothing to deserve it except be the most goofy, poetic, and loving best friend and boyfriend in the world.

“Hey, you remember that time when Cory was being an idiot, like always, and he got into a fight with my dad and then pretended to be an orphan and stayed up in his tree house?”

Shawn chuckled harshly, and the sound made you smile. You had succeeded in getting him to laugh! “God, that lasted what, 3 hours?”

“Right! And then he got too hungry and came back practically begging mom for some mashed potatoes!” you were both giggling harder now.

“Remember that time I set off that cherry bomb, and I thought I could never go home again!”

“You convinced me and Cory to sneak up leftovers to you for a week! You even slept under Cory’s bed until Dad found out and sat on top of you!”

“Gotta love your Dad for that one. God, I was grounded for like a month after that, and I thought that was the worst thing that could ever happen to me. To think how innocent we were just 4 years ago.”

“Has it only been 4 years?! Gosh, I feel like we’ve aged so much since then. You make me feel like an old lady sometimes,” you smiled down at him.

“How so, Grandma?” he quirked his lips up at you.

“You are such a gentleman, I mean, would a normal teenage boy serenade me with personalized poetry that he wrote for me that, get this, isn’t from a Hallmark card? O-or would he listen to my favorite classical music even though he doesn’t like classical music and memorize the violin part because he’s suddenly into it and now it reminds him of spring? Or would he, Shawn Hunter, wear a suit and tie and take me out to Barelli’s on our first date after falling for me because he found my book of sonnets??”

“To be fair, that Barelli’s was all Cory’s doing!”

“Whatever you say, Grandpa,” you smiled coyly as you rose from his lap to put the cups away.

“Yes, indeed, Grandma,” he continued in a sly tone, patting your ass as you stood up.

“Gramps has still got it, I see,” you walked backwards to the sink, refusing to break eye contact in case he tried something funny.

But Shawn was apparently in a funny mood. He slowly edged toward the kitchen counter and leaned forward.

“I see that someone’s feeling better.” You smiled genuinely, glad that you cheered him up at least temporarily.

But Shawn was more than glad. You had barely dried the mugs off and set them down before he lunged for your waist and threw your body over his shoulder like you were nothing a sack of potatoes.

“Hey!” you screamed, half-annoyed, and secretly, half-delighted.

“Sorry, Gran, but Gramps has gotta go to bed,” he deepened his voice for dramatic effects, and it worked as you couldn’t help giggling like a schoolgirl despite your precarious position. Shawn bounded up the stairs with you holding onto him for dear life. He headed straight for your room, which he could only ever enter through the window lest he wanted to tempt the wrath of your father. But your parents weren’t home, and you didn’t plan for anything suggestive to happen…. Shawn just needed somewhere to lay down and lay low for a while.

Shawn set you down on your bed then looked away, a little awkwardly. The boy who was always so suave and knew exactly what to say to girls was now utterly speechless staring down at you in your little pajama shorts, in bed.

“Oh, come off it, Hunter,” you almost scolded him, pulling him down with your hands at his collar. “Come down here, I got a queen for a reason, and it has nothing to do with the s word.”

“You mean the one that rhymes with chex?” Shawn swallowed, peering into your eyes.

“Yup, correcto, Mr. Genius Playboy, how could I ever outsmart you?”

“You think I’m like Hugh Hefner,” he smirked.

“In age and spirit.”

“Shut up!”

“Make me,” you taunted, eyes faltering down to his lips. In the next second, he was on top of you, ravenously sucking at your mouth like a man deprived of water in desert.

You pulled apart gasping, “Wow, somebody’s desperate.”

He wasted no time in kissing the smirk off your face.

“Chill, mommy issues, my lips are already getting swollen,” you poked fun.

“Oi, too early,” but he smiled all the same.

“You wanna just cuddle, read some poetry or somethin’?”

“Yeah, yeah that sounds nice,” he said in a hushed voice. Anything louder than a whisper seemed inappropriate suddenly in this intimate setting where you had the house alone with your lover and no dirty intentions. Someday in the future, there would be plenty of time for that, but right now, you just wanted to take things slow and be there for your dear lover boy.

Shawn buried his head in your chest once more as you wrapped one arm around him and grabbed your latest poetry read off your nightstand with the other. He wrapped his arms around you, and you were instantly enveloped by his warm scent.

“Can you read ‘em out? My eyes aren’t what they used to be.”

“Sure thing, Gramps,” you giggled slightly and he smiled at the sound. Then, you cleared your throat and started to read in the most soothing narrator’s voice you could muster.

Shawn laid in silence for a while. His breathing was so heavy that you wondered if he had fallen asleep. It wasn’t until you felt his breath hitch and stutter a little that you looked down to see him crying again.

“Oh, baby,” you set down your sonnets to wrap both arms around his shaking shoulders as he cried into your chest, his tears soaking through your pajama shirt. You soothingly ran your fingers through his silky hair which had somehow managed to dry and now looked perfect despite his state of distraught.

“I’m sorry, I’m just so tired of this,” he said, his voice breaking. “I don’t care that we live in a trailer, I don’t care that Virna isn’t my mom, I don’t care that we don’t have money. I just wish my dad actually wanted to be a dad. I wish...I wish I was enough for him.”

“Honey, you are enough for him. You’re more than Chet could ever ask for, baby. You’re so beautiful and you have this wonderful mind that comes up with the most amazing poetry. And most importantly, I love you. With all my heart. And I know you love me like I do, and I am grateful for that every single day. Please don’t ever sell yourself short, you’re scarin’ me!”

He tightened his grip on you and buried his head further in your chest, nodding as his tears came slower now.

“I know your dad hasn’t always been there to show you, but if there’s one thing I’m sure of, It’s that Chet loves you and is proud of you for the person you are becoming.”

He nodded more vigorously at that, trying to communicate the fact that he was grateful for your words.

“I wish I was better for you,” he mumbled into your chest.

You pushed him away so you could look into his eyes, perhaps search for the truth that he disguised so well in those cerulean orbs, “What?”

His face turned pink and he seemed flustered. “It’s just that…there’s so much that's...different between us. I know what people think of us when we’re together. I just want to be someone you deserve.”

Of course, you knew the way people talked about you and Shawn. You just didn't realize it bothered him so much. The two of you weren’t exactly polar opposites - your family wasn’t rich and you weren't exactly super popular at school (not that Shawn wasn’t popular either). But you hit puberty before high school like most other teenage girls and suddenly gained a lot of attention, most of it unwelcome. When you started dating Shawn that year, there were some less than ideal comments made about him. Namely about his home life and financial situation. But people always talked and would continue to do so. It was your job not to be bothered.

You cupped his face in your hands, squishing his cheeks together so it seemed like he was making a kissy face with his lips. “Now you listen to me, Shawn Hunter. I don’t care what anyone else says about you, or about us. I love you, and I’d love you the same if you were rich and living in a mansion or if you were a middle class nobody like me and Cory. It’s who you are that I love, not what you are. Never feel like you have to be someone you’re not for me, and especially never apologize for coming to me when you need somewhere to stay.”

Shawn smiled up at you, or rather he tried to while you were still squishing his face, and tears welled in his eyes again. You kissed his nose before releasing his face, and he reburied it in your neck.

You resumed narrating your sonnets to him, and within moments, you heard his breathing deepen. You glanced down and smiled at your beautiful boy who finally looked peacefully asleep after his tumultuous night.

At some point you must have fallen asleep with him still in your arms because the next thing you knew, you opened your eyes to find your parents staring down at you. You slowly blinked your eyes open to clear your vision and were startled to find that your parents weren't a nightmarish vision you conjured up in your dreams. Surer than day, Amy and Alan were standing at the foot of your bed with their arms crossed, staring down at...

"Shawn!" you yelped, throwing him off of you while simultaneously trying to get off your bed. Miraculously, Shawn still hadn't woken up despite your urgent motions to put as much distance between the two of you as possible. Finally, you freed yourself from his droopy limbs as he rubbed his eyes open to the horror that was your parents finding the two of you...in bed...together.

Shawn finally seemed to understand your sense of urgency and leapt off the bed himself stammering, "It's not what it looks like-I can explain-Mr. and Mrs. Matthews-"

You came to his rescue, "Mom, Dad, I promise that nothing happened! Shawn's...Shawn had a rough night and he didn't really have anywhere else he could go, sooo he crashed here..." The end of your explanation seemed more like a question than a definitive statement.

"I promise I would never do anything to your daughter, Mr. Matthews, I just...it's just that...my dad's out of town," Shawn cast his eyes down as the truth still stung to admit.

"Oh, Shawn," your mom moved to put an arm around his shoulders and sat him down. Although your parents were clearly not pleased to find him in bed with you, they understood that Shawn's parents had the tendency to flake on him. "How about I go downstairs and make some pancakes for the two of you? You can talk to us after you've eaten." She smiled and left to go downstairs.

You had to give it to your mom to always know exactly what to say to comfort everyone. Your dad had a few words of his own to add.

"You sure there was no funny business between the two of you last night?" your dad still had his tough expression on his face.

"No, Mr. Matthews!"

"No, Dad!" you rolled your eyes.

Your Dad put his hand on Shawn's shoulder then said something that equally surprised both of you, "You can stay here as long as you need, son." Your father had never seemed more serious about anything, and you realized that despite how tough he was on Shawn, he truly saw him as part of the family. "You will not, however, be going anywhere near my daughter's room. In fact, you will sleep in Cory's room since Eric isn't here. Or even better, on the couch, that way you won't even be on the same floor."

"Dad!" you groaned and pushed your old man out of your room.

"I expect you two to be downstairs in the next 10 minutes! No funny business, I will find out!" your father yelled as he was forced out.

"Whatever!" you called back before slamming your door and shaking your head at Shawn who smirked.

"So Pops has finally warmed up to the Shawnster," he drawled as you launched yourself at his side where he stayed, perched on the bed.

Shawn smiled and engulfed you in another hug. You lifted your head from his chest to capture his lips in yours.

“Thank you for always being here for me,” he said.

“You don’t need to thank me, goofball. That’s what girlfriends are for,” you smiled up at him. Groaning, you added, "Ugh, we gotta go downstairs before my dad comes back in here again. That was so lame."

"Totally lame," he agreed, face composed seriously for all of three seconds before you both burst into giggles.

He reluctantly got up and trudged towards your bedroom door. But not before grabbed your face, giving you another quick kiss before disappearing through the door.

"I love you lots, you're my angel, baby," he murmured against your lips.

"I know," you smiled into the kiss. "I love you too."

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