#=on account of the guy that the Brain decided to try to mop up its emotional mess with is A Fucking Bard

[x-rds]

[Lio] It’s also. Can I say? Brain? It’s also so fucking rude that every time we are going through it and someone new gets plucked out of the primordial darkness to “handle it” that they are then blasted with the full 1000% raw fucking bad vibes energy and the rest of us just have to witness that (which also hits us with it residually), none of us can do fuckall about it, and then spoilers: that is Too Much for them to handle and we have to not only deal with the same fucking situation still, but also a brand new fucked up guy who had no say in whether or not they fucking Exist On This Planet. Like even babies are like. They have a chance to gradually cope with things. But new bastards in ye olde Crossroads? Get blasted with beam of fucking psychic evisceration the moment you start existing and then you look around and see a handful of chucklefucks who have gone through this same fucking traumatic brain-hazing and it’s like. Ok! Why is literally nothing fixed by this series of events

#liolog #=I want you all to understand that headspace has been full of Screaming. for like. Days. #=Not random fearful screaming I mean like Angry Guy In A Song screaming. that guttural but melodic rage type screaming #=on account of the guy that the Brain decided to try to mop up its emotional mess with is A Fucking Bard #=whose power comes from His Fucking Voice like that’s his Instrument he’s a fucking Whispers bard #=and in his defense I do not believe that he actually has much power over this turn of events I think he’s being just bombarded with #our brain’s introductory fucking excruciating psychic beams #=so he’s just mostly been inside of like a fucking. storm bubble? emotional Hell bubble? being only maybe 25% aware of anything and #=otherwise being delirious and getting psychically assaulted and shouting his head off #=which anyone even a little bit near front can hear very fucking loudly #=he’s become more aware recently from what I can tell but like also. still suffering. at this point it’s like. ok. is this necessary? #=can we not just watch some funny YouTube and then go to bed and go to work tomorrow? #=can we not just dissociate or something? must it be this. must this new guy be tortured by our malfunctioning emotional processes #=for like days straight #=like come ON brain you have to know this won’t work right. #=you are filling a bucket with water and the bucket has holes in it. like you get that right #=anyways. we’re very tired. I feel bad for the new guy. I literally cannot do anything about this. #=except wait for it to either pass or like. idk we dissociate enough that we don’t feel it anymore or something

[samsspambox]

Pranks at the NXX Office 2: Electric Boogaloo

thank you to @thenovelartist for the brain worm i accidentally deleted this and had to take a whole ass break so i wouldnt scream lmao

also this is  a mildly long continuation of this post sorry about that hehe

lets set the scene

so its a slow day at the nxx office. well, as slow as days can get i guess. 

marius is the first in the office because one of his classes got canceled and his business meeting had been rescheduled. he had time to kill. and how to spend time if not pranking vyn? and he knew which prank to do, he just had to wash the mop bucket they’d stashed away in the closet after getting the roomba 

by the time he found a towel and was done thoroughly washing the bucket (hey,, he was a prankster but he wasn’t a heathen) artem and luke had already made their way into the office. and were pointedly ignoring him. that was fair actually, plausible deniability was their friend. 

vyn was supposed to be the last one in, marius knew this. he had a class before the meeting time and if the clock was right, the good professor would be rushing it. mc had texted that they would be running late, so there was a good window of time to prank vyn, right? 

marius really thought he had this through. he just didn’t account for vyn’s chivalry. 

vyn had somehow bumped into mc in the lobby and they both walked into the office, but vyn insisted that mc went in first bc he was a try hard raised this way. love interests first and all that jazz, or so im told. so rosa went in instead of vyn. 

it was like looking at a train wreck happening- you couldn’t look away no matter how hard you tried. mc is now drenched in water and has a bucket for a hat. no one moves for three seconds, and honestly? marius can feel the bloodlust from all three of the guys until mc starts laughing and takes off the bucket. they all let out a sigh bc this is the first time any prank has befallen the beloved mc and if it werent for the sound of their laugh they would fucken murder marius. marius owns up to the prank tho, gives them the towel and lets everyone know that it was supposed to be for vyn but mc had gotten to it first. 

now: marius has clearly broken the unsaid rule they set on accident. never target mc. ever. how do the rest of the nxx boys react? 

artem send a glitter bomb to marius’ art studio as retaliation. luke somehow someway modifies his tablet to have really dumb audio pop out at random intervals (it happened once in his 8am class and it was a moan. marius wanted to dIE). vyn tapes a fake cockroach in his cup at the office. all consecutively though, so it feels like a lot and targeted. 

and even then, mc catches wind of the prank war going on and wants in. that brings in a whole ass new problem: do they prank mc and make her feel included at the risk of getting absolutely bombarded with pranks from the other three? one look at mc and they decide that fine, she can join, but nothing too bad and that have to make it blatantly obvious that it was them for retaliation purposes. 

marius and luke are the ones who play the most pranks on mc because one is young and the other is their childhood bestie. vyn usually bakes treats with something weird in them as a prank for mc, and artem just does the smallest things because he wouldn’t DARE play a big ass prank on mc. thats a god damn death wish. the most he’s ever done in front of the nxx boys is tap on her shoulder so they look the other way. thats it. 

mc is allowed to get away with murder any prank they pull on the boys. in fact, they probably enjoy the pranks they play on the guys. good shit mc, go play with your boys. 

#tears of themis #artem wing #luke pearce #marius von hagen #vyn richter #zuo ran #xia yan #lu jinghe #mo yi #pranks at the office #mc probably switches out artem's pens for glitter gel pens #kiki and celestine help them come up with ideas lmaoo #talks from the spambox

[a-little-international]

The Height Of Summer

Summary: She’s a whirling dervish, and he’s trying his best to keep up.

Warnings: Alcohol, mild swearing, a lil bit of a thing called fluff

Words: 4448 (I got carried away, sue me)

A/N: damn, haven’t written anything in about three years but here we are???? I think this is some kind of extreme procrastination mechanism my brain has employed to get me through the trauma that is my final semester. Anyway, let me know what you think???

The Series: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

Chapter 1- Summer

House parties were always fun. What could possibly be better than getting a whole bunch of friends together, drinking beer, and blasting the music loud enough for the entire street to hear? Granted, they were probably a little old to be throwing down the way they did when they were nineteen, but having a civilised glass of wine in a fancy city bar didn’t quite cleanse them of the corporate world the way a good house party could. 

And that’s how Summer Little ended up at this particular house party, having given next to no resistance to her friend Eli’s invite. Eli occupied the desk opposite hers in the office and the two of them had become fast friends though their mutual hatred of Jackson-From-Accounting. Eli also had to be the most popular person Summer knew; he seemed to be friends with every second person in Toronto and was constantly being invited to stuff like this, to which he, in turn, would always invite Summer.

This particular house party belonged to a guy named Brian – how Eli knew him, Summer wasn’t entirely sure. Definitely childhood-related, she deduced, judging by the very jolly greeting the pair had shared upon arrival. Lots of “Jesus, dude it’s been too long!”, and “Oh look, you’ve finally managed to grow a beard!”

It had been an hour since then, and Summer had lost Eli to another group of people in the kitchen he seemed to be annoyingly well acquainted with – classic Mr. Popular.

Three beers in and Summer herself had buddied up with her own group of new friends. Everyone was sprawled across the couches and armchairs, the already pokey living room now teetering on the edge between cosy and cramped.

Shrieks of laugher and loud hollering filled the room, all eyes on Summer as she sat perched on the piano stool, giving a rendition of Smash Mouth’s hit song I’m a Believer that was so obviously bad it made it all the more funny. Her fingers kept slipping into the wrong chords, her voice a tipsy, off-key warble, the lyrics constantly being muddled and interjected with uncontrollable giggles.

This whole situation had started during The Great Shrek Debate (which seems to crop up at the majority of house parties, sooner or later), wherein opinions were divided between whether the first or second movie had the better soundtrack. Being three beers in, Summer had of course decided to announce that she had learnt how to play I’m a Believer way back in the day when her parents had sent her off to piano lessons in the hope she’d actually learn something more sophisticated, like Chopin or whatever. Chopin was decidedly not her style, and she’d used the few years of lessons to learn what essentially became the entire Shrek soundtrack. Really, she hadn’t played piano properly in years, but being able to halfway play such a classic tune sure was a good party trick.

Dramatically whipping her wild, blonde curls around, pretending she was performing at Carnegie Hall, she didn’t notice Eli and his group entering until she heard him exclaim a loud “Incredible!”.

Grinning she looked up, fingers still banging away on the keys, hitting more false notes than correct ones. Once she saw who was standing slightly behind her friend grinning right back at her, she pulled her fingers away from the piano like she’d been burnt, her face flushing a mortified shade of deep scarlet.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she snorted, clapping her hand over her mouth, a nervous laugh escaping through her fingers. World famous musician, Shawn Mendes, just kept grinning at her, his hand raised in a small wave.

Summer shot a look of panic and confusion at Eli, who in turn shot back a wide, shit-eating grin. “Shawn, this is Summer, and it looks like she’ll be putting you out of business soon.”

Everyone laughed at that. Summer did not. Summer was desperately wishing for the ground to open up an swallow her.

It was one thing doing a ridiculously bad, theatrical performance in front of a group of casual, drunk strangers. It was a whole other thing having an actual professional musician walking in on said performance.

“Okay, definitely not,” she managed to scoff in reply, pulling a face as she clambered away from the piano, taking a few steps back in the hopes she somehow wouldn’t be associated with it anymore in any way, shape, or form.

Shawn’s eyebrows raised, and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, “I don’t know, I reckon you’ve got yourself a smash hit there. Total headlining performance,” he joked.

Summer couldn’t meet his laughing eyes, choosing instead to train them on Eli – a desperate call for help. Eli, of course, was no help. He just shrugged, barely containing his amusement; he was enjoying this situation way too much.

“I think I need another drink,” Summer announced, letting out a shaky laugh, and moving to push through Eli’s group huddled by the door, right past Shawn.  

Her heart was beating loudly in her ears, her brain practically shredding itself in its embarrassment. Summer was generally not one to be embarrassed easily, but then again this was hardly a normal situation. One does not simply go to a house party and expect to be walked in on giving what could really only be described as a mockery to music by none other than Shawn Mendes. What kind of planet had she arrived on?

Once in the kitchen, she made a b-line right for the 24-pack of Canadian Club that was sitting on the island, cracking open the first can she could wrangle from the box and tipping half of it straight down her throat.

A firm hand was placed on the small of her back, followed by Eli leaning over her shoulder, still grinning. Summer frowned at him.

Finishing off her gulp, she turned to her friend, “I hate you,” she said dryly.

“I love you,” Eli laughed back. “You’re such a legend.”

“I hate you,” she repeated again, nodding quickly as she crossed her arms across her chest. “Why the fuck…since when do you know Shawn Mendes?”, she exclaimed, his name coming out in a hiss.

Eli just shrugged, leaning against the island with one elbow, his other hand running through his dark mop of hair, “We used to play hockey against each other, wayback in the day. Cool guy, really, haven’t seen him in ages though.”

“Huh, I wonder why that is?” Summer quipped sarcastically.

Just then, there was a knock against the doorframe and leaning against that doorframe, knuckles still raised against the wood was Shawn.

“Speak of the devil,” Eli smiled widely.

Shawn’s eyes flitted to Eli and then back to Summer’s, his expression warm if not slightly bemused. “Just thought I’d come and say hi properly,” he said, his voice gentle. Taking a single, long stride towards Summer, holding his hand out for her to shake. “I’m Shawn.”

“Summer,” Summer replied, her breath seeming to get stuck in the back of her throat as she took his hand and shook it. It wasn’t an unusually long handshake, he didn’t hold on for longer than was necessary like in the movies, but Summer was still overly aware of how soft and large his hand was around hers and it made her heart swell. “I’m so sorry you had to witness me being a total disaster.”

The boys both let out small chuckles at that. “Don’t worry, I reckon I’ve definitely done worse in my time,” Shawn replied.

Summer knew he was only saying that to be kind and to make her feel less embarrassed, but nevertheless, it worked.

“Mate, you haven’t seen anything yet. When Mr. Brightside comes on, there’s no stopping her,” Eli wiggled his eyebrows at Summer, teasing.

Summer widened her eyes warningly at him, “Can you not, please?”

“She also knows all the words to Nuthin But A G Thang,” Eli continued, ignoring Summer’s horrified expression.

Shawn left out a loud laugh, raising his eyebrows at her, “By Dr. Dre?”

“What can I say? I have many talents,” she shrugged, deciding she better start playing it cool or Eli would never stop pushing her buttons.

Eli, however, had other plans. “Yeah, I hear she’s very talented,” he smirked, and Summer tried interjecting, knowing where he was headed, but it was too late. “A freak in the streets and in the sheets.”

“Eli!” Summer exclaimed, punching him in the arm. “I swear to God I will fight you.”

Shawn looked on extremely bemused, and his cheeks were flushed pink, whether from the alcohol or not wasn’t entirely clear.

“What? With these tiny little hands of yours?” Eli scoffed, grabbing them and waving them around. “Look Shawn,” he turned, pushing them towards his friend, “look how teeny tiny her hands are!”

Much to her surprise, Shawn reached up and took one of her hands in his again, inspecting it closely. “Mmm,” he nodded, giving her a half-smile, his head bowed low, “these do appear to be very small hands you’ve got here.”

“You’re both so annoying,” frowned Summer, pouting, her hands still suspended between the two boys.

“I mean…” Shawn trailed off, smirking, as he placed the palm of his hand flat against hers, the size difference really quite ridiculous.

Summer did her best to square up to him, trying to ignore the fluttery feeling in her stomach that had erupted the second Shawn decided to pull the Tarzan and Jane card. “Listen here, you abnormally tall human, you. We can’t all be –“ she broke off, pulling her hands free to wave them at his towering frame, “whatever you are.”

Eli slung his arm around her shoulder, “Babe, accept it, you’re just a little Little,”.

Summer rolled her eyes at him, “You always make that joke and it’s never funny.”

Eli grinned up at Shawn, “It’s funny because her surname’s Little, and she’s little!”

“I think that’s pretty good,” Shawn laughed, throwing his head back lightly.

Her rescue, her knight in shining armour, came in the form of Brian sticking his head into the kitchen.

“Dude, Shawn,” Brian started, as Shawn turned around to face him, “can you go down to the store and pick up two crates of beer? They’re already paid for and everything, they’re just not delivering anything anymore and I don’t want to leave the house alone with the hooligans,” he said, laughing, nodding his head right at Summer.

Summer scoffed indignantly, “I am not a hooligan thank you very much.”

“Never,” Brian winked back, shifting his gaze back at Shawn who was already nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, just give me the keys and I’ll be off. You guys want to come?” he asked, turning back to Summer and Eli.

In perfect synchronicity, Summer answered with a happy “yes”, and Eli scoffed a resounding “no”.

“Alright,” Shawn laughed, holding his arm out to Summer, motioning her to step out of the kitchen ahead of him. “Looks like I’ve got an assistant.”

-

It was a warm summer night, the type that’s just humid enough to make your face a bit dewy and your palms a bit clammy. The suburban street they were walking down was quiet, except for the faint rushing of cars in the distance, and a dog barking in somebody’s back yard. Summer had to engage her power-walk trying to keep up with Shawn’s long strides.

“You know where we’re going, yeah?” Summer asked, glancing up at him. They’d already been walking for about ten minutes, wrapped in a comfortable silence. She had been trying her best not to look too closely at the way the oncoming breeze was pushing his curls into his face, or how good his arms looked in the short shirt sleeves clinging to his muscles.

Shawn frowned down at her bemusedly, “Of course, Brian hasn’t just sent us out on a wild goose chase.”

“Would be pretty exciting though, you’ve got to admit,” Summer said, nodding decidedly.

“Excuse you, I think this is plenty exciting. You and me, out here, stalking the deserted streets of Toronto’s suburbs. What more could you want?” Shawn joked, “We’re like a vigilante group.”

Summer let out a loud laugh, running a hand through her messy curls, “I don’t think you’ve quite grasped the concept of what a vigilante is.”

“Just because we haven’t stopped any crime yet, doesn’t mean we won’t,” Shawn argued back.

Summer nodded, “Alright, I guess you could be the Robin to my Batman.”

“Why don’t I get to be Batman?!” Shawn protested, throwing his long arms into the air. Summer raised her eyebrow at him, “Because we wouldn’t want you damaging that pretty little voice of yours doing his ridiculous one, duh. I’ve got it all thought out.”

“Hmm…you really do, don’t you,” he replied, narrowing his eyes at her, sizing her up.

There were a few moments more of comfortable silence before Shawn decided to break it again.

“So…” he started slowly, moving in closer to her so he could nudge his arm against hers, “You think I’ve got a pretty voice.”

Summer could hear the smirk in his voice before she’d even turned her eyes up at him.

“I see you fishing for compliments, Mendes, and I’m not falling for it,” Summer shook her head lightly, turning her eyes back to the road ahead. She could see what looked distinctly like a liquor store right up ahead; their destination was near.

Summer heard him chuckle and it was so hard not to smile back at that sound. “Well I thought you also had a pretty voice.”

“Shut up,” Summer scoffed as they approached the store front, “we both know that’s a lie.”

“Yeah well,” Shawn shrugged, looking at her innocently as he pulled open the door and held it for her, “I’m trying to flirt with you, so just go with it.”

It took all of Summer’s willpower to not let her jaw drop to the floor, took all her concentration to maintain the light, almost nonchalant smile on her face as she passed under his arm and into the store. A brightly lit, cramped suburban liquor store was the last place she expected to be confronted with such a statement, and quite frankly she didn’t think she had the mental capacity to deal with processing it right there. Summer said absolutely nothing in response, the neurons in her brain firing so rapidly she couldn’t think to form a sentence.

“Pick up for Brian,” Shawn said to the clerk, leaning against the counter with both of his arms outstretched.

Summer, her heart racing like a jackrabbit, allowed herself to look up at his imposing form. She could clearly make out his back muscles, straining both under his weight and against the thin fabric of his shirt. His arms looked somehow both strong and soft, and all she wanted to do was reach up and run her fingers against his skin. His hair was a curly mess that might almost be able to rival her own. His cheeks were flushed, and she couldn’t believe how good he managed to look in the harsh, fluorescent light.

She was brought out of her total reverie by the loud clattering sound of the clerk placing the two large crates of beer on the counter, and Shawn thanking him.

Summer and Shawn had still not said anything to each other, even after a few minutes of having commenced their walk back to the house party. Summer couldn’t stand the silence. She also couldn’t stand the way his arms strained, and his breath deepened as he carried both crates, stacked on top of each other, for one more step.

“Hey, let me take one,” she piped up, stopping in her tracks and motioning to the crates.  

“I can carry them,” Shawn shrugged, smiling down at her.

Summer raised her eyebrows at him and kept gesturing at him to hand her a crate, “Believe me, I know you’re very strong – I can see that clearly, but I feel like a knob just walking beside you without carrying anything, so hand one over.”

“You been looking at my muscles?” Shawn teased, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

Summer pursed her lips. “Again, with the fishing for compliments, what did I tell you? Now hand one over, come on.”

“Or what? You’re going to fight me, Little?”

“Watch me,” Summer cocked her chin up at him, challenging him to challenge her. Shawn met her eyes and she knew he was deliberating whether or not to continue this backwards and forwards.

“You’re not going to drop this are you?” Shawn asked, sighing, and Summer just grinned, knowing she’d won in that moment. He bent down to her level and Summer deftly grabbed the top crate, heaving into a more comfortable position in her arms.

“Okay, let’s go!” She announced with a swish of her hair, and she was off ahead of him, her short legs carrying her faster than he was expecting.

-

“You’re back!” Brian exclaimed as they walked into the kitchen, sliding the crates onto the island. “Shawn, you let her carry one?” he continued, giving his friend a judgemental look as he reached to unpack the bottles.

Shawn raised his hands in defence, “I tried to stop her.”

“There’s no stopping her,” said Eli, coming to his defence.

Summer nodded solemnly. “I couldn’t let him be the only one showing off his muscles. How can you expect me to deter your friendly neighbourhood criminals if I’m not flashing my guns?”

“I’ll have you know this is a very safe neighbourhood,” Brian said as he opened a bottle and brought it to his mouth.

“No thanks to Summer and I giving them a muscle show,” Shawn joked, shooting her a bright smile.

Summer smiled back, biting down on her lip. “Yeah, we established we’re your new vigilantes, you’re welcome.”

Eli looked between Shawn and Summer, narrowing his eyes slightly. “You guys were gone for half an hour and you’ve already teamed up, I can’t believe it.”

“Don’t worry, babe, you’re still my favourite,” Summer grinned, patting him on the cheek, but Eli just grumbled some more.

“We were just starting s’mores outside if we want to move out?” Brian suggested, heading for the back door.

Summer gasped in excitement, grabbing a bottle for herself before moving to follow, “You don’t have to ask twice!”

“Bloody love s’mores,” she heard Eli say behind her, and Shawn hummed in agreement.

Judging by the amount of people in the garden, the majority of which were huddled by the fire, almost half must have left the party during Summer and Shawn’s absence.

Summer went to take a seat on one of the padded deck chairs, but Shawn came dashing past and beat her to it, plonking himself down. She gave him an unimpressed deadpan look, to which he just responded with a smug grin and outstretched arms, beckoning her to sit on his lap. Thinking this was a bit forward and not fully trusting her level of self-control, Summer pointedly walked right past him and pulled up a plastic garden chair, choosing to sit on that instead.

“You don’t want to keep me company?” Shawn asked, the crackling fire reflected in his dark eyes.

Summer bit down on the side of her cheek, admiring how soft and warm he looked in the darkness. He really wasn’t holding back much and, quite frankly, it scared her a little. She was a sensible 23-year old woman with a stable corporate job, who admittedly, was also a bit of a loose cannon on occasion. But surely, she thought, she was not enough of a loose cannon to fall for the words coming from the lips of none other than Shawn Mendes, no matter how tempting. It was almost so easy to forget who he was, and she really wanted to just forget and dive in. But things are never that easy, are they?

“I’m sitting right next you,” she shot back, giving his arm a quick, sympathetic pat. She couldn’t quite help herself.

Shawn pouted at her, pushing his bottom lip out, his big brown eyes making her heart tremble a little, “I’ll make you the best s’more you’ve ever had in your life.”

“Talking a big game here, Mendes,” Summer smiled widely at him, taking a sip from her beer. “Impress me and I might reconsider,” she said, “the operative word being ‘might,’” she added on quickly, seeing his face light up excitedly.

“Okay,” Shawn started, as he leaned forwards and grabbed a marshmallow from the bag, shoving it over the skewer tip, “the key, my big secret – and you mustn’t tell anyone because it’s my biggest secret –“ he said sincerely, a small smile tugging at the side of his mouth, “is to start the marshmallow melting process from the edge of the fire. See, you’ve got to get it all soft from the side, you don’t want to just shove it in,” he continued, glancing back up at Summer to see if she was still paying attention. “Because if you make the rookie mistake of shoving it straight in the middle, you’ll just end up burning the outside but the inside won’t be all melty and nice.”

Summer nodded down at him, very sincerely, humouring him. Shawn was acting like he was a Michelin star chef and honestly it was equal parts hilarious and adorable.

“Look,” he continued, pointing at the marshmallow, “it’s starting to look a bit goopy, so I think it’s time to put it right in the middle and crisp up the outside. But we don’t want to overdo it, or you’ll just be biting into charcoal.”

“We definitely wouldn’t want that,” Summer agreed. She couldn’t pull her eyes way from him as he stared intently at the marshmallow now fully engulfed by the fire The light from the flames was bringing out a hundred different shades of golden brown in his hair, his sun kissed skin was glistening, his eyes flickering along with the erratic movement of the fire.

“Alright,” he announced, pulling the skewer from the fire to reveal, what Summer had to admit, looked nigh on like the perfectly toasted marshmallow. “I need you to hold out the two crackers with the chocolate,” he said, nodding at the other ingredients in bags on the floor. Summer followed his instructions diligently, smiling lightly.

“We’ve got to let the marshmallow cool down just a bit now, we want to melt the chocolate, not burn it. It’s a precious food that needs to be handled with tenderness and care,” he said, looking straight up into Summer’s eyes and for a split second she couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t talking about the chocolate at all.

“Mmm-hmm,” Summer hummed, any and all words getting stuck somewhere in the back of her throat.

Shawn slowly placed the perfect marshmallow on one side of the crackers and chocolate combination she was holding out to him, and then guided her other hand to complete the sandwich. He took it off her and squished the s’more together lightly, being extra gentle not to break the crackers with his big hands.

“Now,” he said quietly, almost solemnly, as he held it out to her, “are you prepared to taste the best fuckin’ s’more you’ve ever had, Miss Little?”

Summer responded with a little nod, “I think I am,” she said, glancing between his face, which was closer to hers than it had been all night, and the s’more he was offering.

She reached for it and placed all of it in her mouth, only breaking eye contact with Shawn once the molten heaven that was the marshmallow and chocolate combination coated her tongue. She could sense his eyes were still on her, and when she opened hers again, he could see the beginning of a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“And?” he queried, his eyebrows pulling together slightly.

Shawn hadn’t lied. It was indeed one of the best s’mores Summer had ever had. She didn’t know what else to say other than to nod her approval.

Shawn’s face broke out in the biggest grin she’d seen all night from him, as he leaned back in his chair triumphantly, holding out his arms to her.

Summer’s cheeks flushed and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t help her widening smile. Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through her veins, or the warm comfort offered by the fire, but in that moment her brain stopped caring about logistics and let her heart swell up. Without much hesitation, Summer got up from where she was sitting and moved into the waiting lap of Shawn Mendes, immediately feeling his long arms wrap around her small waist, and she felt safe. In that moment, she didn’t care what the other people in the garden were thinking, what Eli must be thinking, even what her own brain was thinking. She just felt safe and full of affection for the boy with the brown curls and warm eyes that was smiling so widely at her she couldn’t help but smile back and sink into his embrace.

“So this is nice,” Shawn commented, and she didn’t think it was possible for anyone to have sounded more smug.

“Not as nice as your s’more, but you set the bar pretty high,” Summer quipped back, shrugging as she reached up tentatively to wrap her arm around his neck.

“Ouch,” Shawn chuckled, dropping his head, “well how about I try flirting with you some more tomorrow and you can keep giving in to me,” he said, smirking up at her.

She knew she couldn’t say no to him, not when his hair was flopping into his eyes the way it was, and how distinctly she could feel each of his fingers resting against the fabric of her dress, giving her a light squeeze.

“As long as you don’t keep fishing for compliments, you know you won’t catch any with me,” Summer said, ruffling his hair lightly because it looked too soft not to touch.

“How do you feel about dinner?” Shawn asked, suddenly sounding distinctly less confident, only glancing up into her eyes quickly before looking back down at her legs on his.

Summer contemplated his offer for a few seconds, playing with the curls on the back of his neck. Then, when she knew she couldn’t string it out any longer because her heart might beat out of her chest if she didn’t start talking again, she replied with a simple “I get off work at eight.”

-

TAGLIST (let me know if you want to be added!)

@crownedbyluke

#c writes #my writing #Shawn mendes #Shawn mendes imagine #Shawn mendes fanfiction #Shawn mendes fluff #Shawn fic #Shawn x oc #the height of summer #Youngblood network #the height of summer chapter 1