Shawn Mendes Imagines (Reader Insert)

Sixth Step

Prompt: The squeak of an old wooden staircase // The ups and downs, along with the beginning and end, of your relationship with Shawn

Warnings: Angst (!!!), underage drinking, and a few swear words

I hope you enjoy this!! It was very fun to write !! I'd love to hear your thoughts! 

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Word Count: 8.4k | Angst

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2004 

You didn't know what moving to a different neighborhood meant at six years old. You didn't have any bearings that the town you were moving to was three hours away from where you previously lived. So it was rather confusing when your parents informed you that you wouldn't be able to play superheroes with your neighborhood friends the following weekend.

You liked having the boxes piled up on top of each other throughout the house; it made for good hiding places when playing hide-and-seek. But then the boxes began to disappear, so did the window curtains, and so did the furniture. You now had nowhere to hide when playing.

With your tiny arms crossed over your chest, and a permeant pout on your face staring out the window, you felt sad about leaving your friends. You didn't want to find new people to play superheroes with. What if your new friends didn't want to play superheroes with you? You had stopped your fussing an hour into the drive when your dad promised you ice-cream if you behaved the rest of the way.

You hadn't said a word to them since.

You saw the skyline of a city you weren't familiar with––Toronto, is what your parents had said––and soon the highway began to morph into more residential streets. Trees lined the streets and kids played in their yards, all running to the side of the road when your car passed. You don't know how much longer you were in the car for until you saw a Welcome to Pickering sign.

A few more turns down a few more unfamiliar streets; you stopped outside of a house that had a nice sold sign out on the front lawn. Your father parked the car, got out, and tried to unbuckle you with your arms still bitterly crossed over your chest. Your father didn't say anything, and instead let out a sigh of relief, when he got you out of the carseat constraints. He said something to you, but you ignored him as you grabbed your teddy bear, walked over to the front lawn, and sat up against the pretty white sold sign.

A new house, you thought to yourself, your old house was better.

You sat on the lawn as you watched your parents take the brown boxes you hid behind during hide-and-seek and carry them in, one by one into the house. The pout on your face deepened until a soccer ball came rolling toward you.

But the soccer ball wasn't the only thing coming toward you. A boy with scraggly brown hair ran at you full speed. You clutched your teddy bear tighter to your chest as the soccer ball stopped right in front of you. And the boy quickly stopped running before he barreled into you.

Out of breath, he was bent over and leaned his hands on his scrawny knees, "Hi, I'm Shawn," You rolled the ball toward him and didn't say anything. He picked up the ball, "My mom told me there would be new people where the Phillips used to live. What's your name?"

"Y/n," you loosened your grip around your teddy bear.

Shawn smiled, "Do you play soccer?"

You shook your head and offered him a counter question, "Do you play superheroes?"