Shawn Mendes Imagines

He Doesn't Say It Back

You were laying stomach-up on Shawn's bed, the back of your legs pressed against the wall beside it as you stretched them as far as you could.

Shawn lays beside you, doing the same, the two of you trying to beat each other and see who was taller.

"I think I'm winning," you gleam as your feet approach the edge of the Harry Potter poster taped to the wall. Shawn's toes were curled up and a few inches behind, but he struggles to wiggle up to your height.

"How did we end up doing this?" he chuckles.

"I don't really know."

Biting his lip, Shawn slides his legs over the wall and knocks yours down, rolling over so he was basically on top of you.

He begins to tickle you on your hips and just below your ribs, and you scream and struggle to break free from his grasp.

"Let me go!!" you kick your legs, still laughing. You felt your abdomen tighten, aching as you catch for breath. You couldn't stop laughing. This could be a real stomach exercise.

"Never!" Shawn shouts in return, his figure hovering over you, tight curls hanging over his forehead.

He ticked you for a lot longer before he finally decides you'd had enough, and you roll over to lay on top of his chest, breathing heavily.

"I'm really glad out of all people, you're my best friend," he admits quietly, followed by another laugh, his chest vibrating with every word. "No one else I know does stuff like this with me."

You tense up at the word friend, feeling your heart drop to your toes like it does every time he calls you two friends. It's the painful reminder that you're buried far into the fiery pits of friendzonedom.

You and Shawn grew up together, him being the son of your parents high school friends, and you've had a heart-wrenching crush on him since the moment you laid eyes on him when you were four years old.

By the time you were twelve or thirteen, you started to get over that, since the two of you went to separate schools and you only ever saw him when he would go over to your house.

But since he has started to go to your school, you've once again developed that little girl old-fashioned crush.

And it was hard not to stare at him as you lay on his chest, sprawled across his bed in his room.

"Shawn," you turn around and look up at him. This was it.

"Hmm?" he perks his head up.

Frick.

You internally freak out and decide its best not to tell him. He'll only say that he doesn't feel the same way, and you'll ruin the whole friendship. And that will hurt more than anything.

"Nevermind," you shake your head as you slowly lay back down.

"No, what?" he pokes your shoulder.

"Nothing."

"Y/N."

"Shawn. It's nothing."

"Do I need to tickle you again?" he shimmies his fingers as they inch closer to your stomach, and you try to wriggle away.

"No!" you scream, laughing as he rolls over you, throwing your arms down on the bed and straddling your torso, his fingers wrapped around your wrists tightly.

"Pinned you," he says proudly. "And I'm not letting you go until you tell me what you were gonna say."

You struggle to gain your freedom again, but it was no use.

You sigh. "I like you, okay?"

He freezes.

" . . as more than a friend."

His fingers loosen as he sits up, getting off of you and leaning back on his knees.

"Oh," he manages.

You wait for him to say something else, but he doesn't.

He refuses to make eye contact with you, instead he just picks up a pillow and begins to mess with the hem of it, swimming in the awkwardness.

"Shawn?"

"Yeah. I heard you."

You wait for him to say that he likes you too, but he doesn't. He didn't say anything at all. You carefully stand up from the bed and grab your phone, walking out of the room and racing down the stairs, tears brimming in your eyes.

You were embarrassed and disappointed at the same time, knowing you just ruined your friendship.

"Wait, Y/N!" Shawn calls as he tackles the stairs one by one, stopping you at the door.

You sigh. "Shawn, you don't have to -"

"Let me talk," he cuts you off, grabbing your hand and dragging you into the living room, pressing down on your shoulders so you sit on the couch. He sits next to you.

You wait for him to tell you that whatever you had was over, but the small smile on his face said something else. You curiously lean on the back of the couch and wait, wiping your eyes with your t-shirt.

"You just said what I've been afraid to say for years," he admits.

Your eyes widen slightly, teeth digging into your bottom lip to stop your grin from becoming too ridiculously wide.

"I guess I was just scared you would reject me or something. Because I'm a year older and stuff, and I thought maybe you saw me as your brother. But I do like you, I really do. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, and I'm sorry I froze up back there, you just kind of caught me off guard and I'm sorry."

You smile and bite your lip, turning away from him as you silently squeal.

"Y/N?" he leans forward, yearning for eye contact.

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to like, be my girlfriend? Because you should. Like if you want to."

You scoot a little closer to him and begin to nod slowly, which then goes faster and a "yeah," escapes your lips.

He flushes his cheeks and looks somewhat accomplished. He takes a deep breath, finally able to calm his nerves.

"I just asked Y/F/N to be my girlfriend," he whispers. "I've been wanting to say that since like, fourth grade."

"Oh my god," you snicker, burying your face in the palms of your hands. Your smile was so big it was aching. "What will our parents think?"

*

A/N

This sums up my life bc my crush is my parent's best friend's son and he's a year older except he seriously doesn't think of me that way fosho but I like him sm uggghh