Shawn Mendes Imagines

Something Magical

im so dead omfg 800k is so many !!! hecking cool ilyasm

***

"Egyptian Rat Screw-- rules are simple. Don't look at your cards, slap them down one at a time face up, we take turns. If it's a Jack, your opponent lays down one card, Queen is two, King is three, and Ace is four."

"What if it's a number card?" you ask while biting your lip, mapping out his instructions in your head to form something coherent.

"Keep going, one at a time," Shawn nods, evenly distributing the deck of cards between the two of you across the coffee table. You sat on the couch, Shawn crouched on the floor on the other side.

"Unless we lay down the same number," he pauses, rethinking himself. "Then you slap the deck. Whoever slaps first, gets it."

"What about laying down the face cards?" You ask, confused. "How do you get the deck then?"

"Okay, say you lay down a King. Then I would have to lay down three, and if I don't lay down another face card in those three, you would get the deck."

"Unless they're the same card, right? Because then you slap?"

"Yes. See, it's easy. You catch on quick. Let's try a round for practice, okay?" His eyes were soft, crinkled at the ends from his smile, all the signs of a good mood. Rain trickled down the other side of the freezing window, pattering softly on the ceiling above you.

"Okay," you nod, and stack your cards.

You begin playing the card game, getting mildly confused every now and then. But when you did, he would just reach across the table and gently squeeze your hand, saying quietly, "don't worry, sweet girl. It's just practice."

Once you had been practicing for a few rounds, you decide you're ready to play for real. Shawn runs to his kitchen to grab a beer for the two of you to share, crouching back down on the floor and preparing to win.

He was making you laugh throughout the game, getting angry when you would slap the deck faster than him but then smile at how you triumphantly sipped the shared beer, him with only three cards, you with most of the deck.

You had both moved to the couch now, Shawn tired of the floor and insisting on sitting next to you instead.

After you failed to give a face card of your demanding-two Queen, Shawn finally winning a larger-sized litter of cards, you watch him yawn. His hair was tousled from the number of times he ran his fingers through it, eyes droopy and sleepy.

"It's getting late, cuddlebug," he yawns again, leaning against the couch cushion. "You wanna call it a night and go to bed?"

"You're just saying that because you're losing," you laugh.

Holding your hand in his, he raises it to his lips and plants a kiss on your knuckle, shaking his head in denial. "Not true?"

You exhale through your nose and stretch your arms. "I'm kinda sleepy, too. We'll finish in the morning, yeah?"

He nods slowly, gaze narrowed on your eyes. Slowly, but surely, his eyes moved down to your lips. He looked inarguably tired, but like he couldn't resist. Like he wasn't so much as being pushed towards you by his own will power, but pulled-- by yours.

Suddenly, his lips press softly against yours, the kiss catching you off guard only a little bit. It was slow at first, tender, his hand on your cheek before moving up slowly to your hair, brushing it away from your face.

"You sure you're tired?" you giggle as soon as he pulls away for a split second, his body covering yours as he pushes you down slowly, your head landing on the throw pillow.

"Not too tired," he manages, hardly having time to speak allowed the words before returning himself to your mouth, his lips alluring and stressing.

The kiss became more, and you realized you had never been-- well, this much with Shawn before. You had never done more than kiss, but now his hands were tracing along the curves and edges of your body, unable to keep to himself any longer.

"I love you," you both take your turns mumbling, not wanting to break the kiss for anything.

He pulls away at last, body laying atop yours, and his bright, round eyes catch your own. He smiles, and it was one of those scared-excited smiles, the smiles you believe.

Something in his eyes hinted to you that something magical was about to happen, and you couldn't deny it. You pictured his eyes still, and his smile, and felt the magic even when he looked away.

After that, things became a tad bit blurry.

...and sweaty.

And wonderful...

And it was all just happening. Unplanned. But magically.

***

this is awful someone stop me