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babyangelshawn · 5 years

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Hello! I was wondering if you could write about Shawn falling in love with a girl who thinks she isn’t enough, and so she keeps rejecting him until one day she doesn’t........ 🥺

Thanks so much for trusting me with your request! I hope this is close to what you wanted!

More Than This

He was a friend of a friend.

They’d bumped into each other a time or two before, mostly at birthday parties, and he’d never paid her any mind, not that anyone ever paid her any mind. She was short, a little on the pudgy side, glasses and thick curly hair, and there were so many better options milling around, girls with narrow waists and slender legs and soft hair.

That wasn’t to say he was rude. He’d smile at her on occasion, say hi, but mostly he overlooked her and that was fine. Shawn made her nervous. He was talented and handsome and looked like he had been carved from marble and all of that just made her really, really nervous.

But that changes one day. Not the nervous part, no that would never go away, but one day he notices her out of nowhere and it’s inexplicable and scary. One moment she’s trying to figure out if it’s rude to leave this party 10 minutes after she’s arrived and the next Shawn Mendes is standing at her elbow, his smile bright and wide.

“Hi.”

She glances around quickly to see if it’s possible he’s talking to someone else, maybe one of the hot IG models hanging around, but it’s just her and he’s staring and her heart starts to gallop. “Um, hi.”

“I’m Shawn,” he holds out his hand, the one not holding a beer. “I’ve seen you around but I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

“Oh, uh, Maggie.” She hopes her hand isn’t sweaty when she puts it in his. She expects a handshake but gets a surprise- a thrill, really- when he brings her hand up to his mouth, soft lips pressing to the back.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.”

This is a dream. She’s dreaming. That’s the only explanation for this. She wants to glance around, wants to see if maybe she’s vividly hallucinating in a room full of people, wants to pinch herself to see if she wakes up in her own bed. But she can’t do any of that because Shawn hasn’t let go of her hand and he’s still smiling at her and that’s how she knows it’s a dream.

“You’re the marine biologist, right?”

She’s shocked he knows anything about her. Shocked that anyone would bother to mention her. “Uh, not yet. I’m working on it.”

He asks what school she’s going to, she tells him, and before she knows it they are an hour deep in a conversation about marine biology and coral reefs. He seems truly interested, she gives him credit for that, and he doesn’t interrupt her often, just a few times with questions. It’s cute, when he thinks he’s asked something stupid, how his cheeks flush crimson and his shoulders hunch up around his ears, a self-depreciating laugh leaving his mouth.

She’s embarrassed that she’s taken up so much of his time, that’s she talked so much about herself and hasn’t asked him anything about himself. She’s sure the Cosmo gods are shitting themselves at this point. She’s just about to get around to saying something about his music, racking her suddenly blank brain for anything, anything at all that she knows about him and she’s so goddamn happy that someone interrupts them before she can blurt out that he has great abs. That’s not a great conversation starter.

Shawn has to go. She tries not to think about the fact that he looks disappointed when his manager comes to fetch him. She tells herself that he’s upset that he wasted all of his time at the party with her instead of mingling with his actual friends. He nervously wrings his hands, an adorable gesture on such a big guy, and apologizes, sorry he has to go. They fumble for a second when she goes to shake his hand and he goes to hug her, and then they’re both laughing awkwardly and shake hands. He’s gone in a flurry of friends and managers and security.

She’s still not sure all of that happened. She peers down anxiously at the half empty cup in her hand and wonders how long an LSD trip lasts and if someone would have really bothered wasting drugs on her. She’s just about to mark it off as a hallucination and call her therapist, when gentle fingers grasp at her elbow.

It’s Shawn.

He’s bashful this time, stuttering through his request, cheeks and neck flamed up red. “Can I-I mean, would you want to… could we- like, can I get your number?”

She goes blank. Completely blank. And she’s quiet for such a long time that he’s already taken a step backwards, hands held up in surrender before she shakes out of her stupor. He’s just being nice, she tells herself. Because he’s apparently noticed that I’m the weird fat chick at the parties that no one talks to. He’s just a nice guy. “Sure,” she tells him.

She doesn’t ask for his.

She gets a text moments later. It’s a bunch of sea mammal emojis and his name. She’s so confused about why he wanted her number and why he’s text her and she’s suddenly exhausted. She pockets her phone, says goodbye to the host, slips out of the party unnoticed. There’s leftover pizza and Netflix at home and that’s where she wants to be right now.

It’s not much later that she’s settled in bed, comfy pajamas on, hair piled on top of her head. She’s had leftover pizza and her dog has curled up beside her while Anne with an E plays. It’s nearly midnight when her phone dings with an incoming text. Shawn, again.

What are you doing?

Nothing. Watching Netflix.

Me, too. Sabrina. You?

Anne with an E.

Those three little dots keep popping up and disappearing. Back and forth, there and gone, for a solid minute before his next text comes through.

I really had a nice time talking to you today. I’m here for a few more days. Would you want to go get coffee or something tomorrow?

She does. Of course she does. Who wouldn’t want to go out with a young man that seemed so sweet and nice and who definitely, definitely looked like a Greek god? But that was the problem, wasn’t it? She couldn’t imagine being seen out in public with him, looking more painfully plain and short and fat next to his impossibly tall and handsome figure. She couldn’t bear for anyone to look twice at them and think what the hell or assume she was his ugly cousin.

I wish I could, but I’m super busy the next few days. I’m moving back into my dorm. Maybe next time you’re in town?

Yeah, sure. I totally understand.

She isn’t sure what to say next, but he saves her any awkward small talk by sending her a link about plastic in the oceans and asks her so what do we do about this?

He doesn’t come back to town for five months.

But they talk every day. Sometimes it’s just a good morning, good night text. Sometimes they send each other articles on guitars and oceanography. Sometimes they send each other memes. She learns he has a self-depreciating sense of humor and he likes to stay up way too late at night and that he gets really defensive when she sends him memes of trash cans with the word me underneath, acting like she’s insulted him by implying she’s less than gold. He facetimes her once a week, usually after a show when his team is asleep in their bunks. It was awkward at first, both of them blushing and stuttering, long pauses that sent them into giggles. But something changes one night and he smiles so softly, laying his head down on his pillow, staring at her while she explains this latest article on global warming to him.

She catches his drowsy expression and stutters to a halt. “This is boring, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not bored,” he assures her. “I love listening to you. You have the most soothing voice.”

She blushes so prettily that he makes a noise in the back of his throat. “It’s the accent.”

“I do love that East Tennessee accent.”

She brushes off his compliments, the same way she always does. It’s frustrating to him. Can’t she see that he-

“Hey, I heard you were headed to Nashville soon.”

“I am,” he shakes himself from his thoughts. “I was actually going to ask if you want to come to that show. I can get you passes and you can come hang out?”

She wants to. God, she wants to. But she’s seen videos of his team and his friends and even though she’s sure they’re all great people, she can’t help but think they look like the guys from high school who used to make fun of her. She doesn’t want to be the butt of their jokes, doesn’t want them to talk about her to Shawn once she’s gone, doesn’t want them to make him realize that he shouldn’t be wasting his time on a girl like her.

She doesn’t want him to agree with them.

“It’s the weekend before finals. I will be neck deep in text books, notes, coffee, and crippling self-doubt. I appreciate the offer, though.”

She tries not to think to much about how his face falls, how he turns away from the screen for a second like he’s composing his face, blank and neutral when he rolls back over. “Yeah, sure. I totally understand.”

But he shows up at her dorm the day before his show. It’s his off day and he’s decided to spend it with her. She wasn’t lying when she said she’d be busy studying and he’s exhausted, so she sits at her desk and goes over pages and pages of notes while he snuggles up in her single. She’s glad she doesn’t have a roommate this year, reminds herself to thank her parents again for springing for a private room. She orders them grilled cheese sandwiches and she admires how he looks when he sleepily eats it, laughs when he makes tiny grabby hands at her and pouts when she shakes her head no. As if she’d let him get close enough to feel how lumpy she is.

“You’ve been studying all day, Maggie. Come take a nap with me.”

She rolls her eyes, ignores the drop in her stomach. She so desperately wants to lay down with him but she just… can’t. “Not all of us are talented enough to travel the world and play guitar. I have to study.”

“Maggie, please,” his voice is soft and insistent. She makes the mistake of looking at him. He’s in that damn hoodie that makes him look like a frat boy and his hair is adorably rumpled from his previous nap, face soft and relaxed. He reaches a hand out for her. She takes it. Soon her head is tucked under his chin and she’s nestled against him and she hopes to God he can’t hear how uneven her breathing is. His heart is thumping hard against her hand and she wonders if he thinks she’s gross. They lay like that for hours, neither of them sleeping due to nerves and closeness and want and longing. They don’t move until Shawn’s manager calls and she walks him to his car. They hold hands and they hug and he doesn’t try to convince her to come to the show because he’s proud of her for being dedicated to her studies and he wants his smart girl to do well on her finals.

Three months later, he knows so much about her and he’s falling in love.

She’s Maggie, not Margaret, not even on paper and it’s because her parents conceived her when Maggie May by Rod Stewart was playing on the radio. She loves the ocean but admits the unknown of it freaks her out, sort of the way space does, so she tries not to think about it too much. She’s an only child who never strayed too far from home, takes a trip to the beach with her Mama every year. She’s a farmer’s daughter and even though marine biology is her first love, she’s not opposed to one day taking over the family farm. She likes cows and chickens and dogs and babies and the color purple.

He thinks a lot about that night in her dorm when she let him hold her close, the way his stupid body had almost betrayed him, the way he hadn’t been able to sleep, the way he had wished he had turned his ringer off so Andrew couldn’t have called him away. He thinks about how smart she is, what her laugh sounds like, how she says his name, the way her thighs look when she crosses her legs.

She’s turned him down twice. The first time was when he asked her for coffee. It was too soon, he realizes that now, understands he came off as a little manic because he felt a little manic. He had seen her before at parties, had never gotten the chance to introduce himself because she always seemed a little standoffish and distant and he was intimidated by beautiful girls who didn’t seem to care. But that day was different. She had been wearing a sweet little peach summer dress that made her tan skin seem golden and he wasn’t aware he was walking towards her until he was already there. He had acted like an idiot, had fawned over every word she said, and still almost chickened out of asking her for her number. And then he rushed everything by asking her out five text messages in.

He was sure that she would come to his show in Nashville, but he hadn’t counted on finals, hadn’t counted on her dedication to her education. There weren’t many people who said no to him anymore and he supposes if it had been anyone else, he would have been annoyed but her telling him no had only fueled the fire and turned him on. He had shown up at her dorm, slept in her bed, held her close, and left feeling like the most love sick puppy on Earth.

He had flown back out to her twice, holed up in her dorm and slept until he wasn’t exhausted. They had shared her tiny bed but not a blanket and he had kissed the top of her head until he memorized the smell of her shampoo.

He was headed to her again. She had just finished her junior year of college, was on her way home for summer break and she had extended an invitation to him to come visit. She was self-depreciating as always, already telling him she understood if he couldn’t or didn’t want to before she even actually invited him, but he had waved off her worries that he would get bored because he was already booking his flight.

She picks him up from the airport in the dead of night, adorably sleepy and wearing shorts and a university sweatshirt. It’s a rare cool Tennessee night and she looks so comfy that he has to curl his hands under his thighs to keep from reaching over and touching her as they drive down some dark, back road to her parents farm house.

Her Mama is waiting up on them, hot chocolate already made and she’s a sweet woman who fusses over him, her eyes darting between her daughter and this strange boy she’s brought home and Shawn feels a little proud when he sees her give herself a little nod. She approves. He knows she does and he wants to throw his arms around her and thank her and beg her to ask her daughter how she feels about him.

They have to sleep in separate bedrooms. It’s the rules, and he’s fine with them. They say good night to each other at the top of the stairs, closing their respective bedroom doors.

He gets a week with her. It’s a glorious week where her parents are kind to him and he gets to feed baby goats and go fishing and do all sorts of country boy things that he never expected to like. She laughs at him when they go mud riding, tell him he’s a sight when he’s covered head to toe in dirt, and he can’t stop himself from asking her if she’ll go on tour with him this summer.

The laughter dies on her lips and she turns from him, arms wrapping around her middle. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He’s used to her turning him down but it stings. It stings and he’s feeling defensive and he crosses her arms across his chest. “Why?”

“It’s just… I have responsibilities here. And Dad’s buying more land, adding to the farm, and I don’t feel comfortable leaving them.”

He can’t argue with her. “Yeah, sure. I totally understand.”

When he leaves a few days later, she’s wracked with regret. She mopes around the house for days, exchanges her pillows for the ones he slept on. When her Mama asks her what’s wrong, she tells her that she thinks she’s in love with Shawn and it hurts because he’s never going to feel the same.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s true,” her Mama runs her hand down her back, consoling her sobbing Molly May. “I think he looks at you like you hung the moon. That’s pretty special, Maggie.”

But she can’t believe that. She can’t because she’s seen the girls he’s been seen with before and they look nothing like her. She’s not even close to being his type.

He convinces her to come to Toronto for a week before she starts her last year of college. She surprises them both when she says yes. He’s so excited to see her on his own turf, that he claps giddily and throws himself at her twice and her answering giggle is enough to erase any of his embarrassment.

She meets his friends and they are not the terrible people she thought they would be. They’re funny and a tad wild and they tell her hilarious Shawn stories while he sits there, cheeks flaming. “Don’t listen to them,” he begs. “It’s all lies.”

“It’s not!” His friends chorus together.

They hold hands on the way home. Toronto is big and lovely and overwhelming and she’s just a small country girl in a big city, a little afraid and a little homesick despite being deliriously happy that she’s here with him. When they get to his condo, they brush their teeth and wash their faces together. She changes alone in the bathroom and then crawls into his bed with him.

The next morning they have make breakfast together, share it on the balcony. He’s unusually quiet, his face thoughtful and reserved.

“What’s on your mind?”

He nibbles at the corner of a piece of toast before he sits it down. “You know I’m in love with you, right?”

This is a dream, she thinks. It’s the same feeling she got when he first approached her a year ago, that feeling of unrealness. She shakes her head, unbelieving. There’s nothing about her that he should love, not when he has a world of possibilities at his fingertips.

He’s frustrated when she shakes her head, not with her, but with himself. He thought she knew, thought he was all heart-eyes and tripping heart when he was with her, but he sees now that he’s done a terrible job.

“Maggie,” he leans forward, picking up her hands in his. “Maggie, I’m in love you. And I want… I want us to be together.”

She wants that, too. She desperately wants to be his and for him to be hers, but that’s the problem isn’t it? He belongs to his team, his fans, his music, too, and she couldn’t compete with that, would never try to. She didn’t want to think about what all those people would have to say about how she looks standing next to him. And she doesn’t realize that she’s crying and babbling all of that until he’s on his knees in front of her.

“I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. I love everything about you and I don’t care what anyone else has to say. I love you. I love you and that’s all I care about.”

She’s going to say no. She’s going to say no and he’s going to say yeah, sure. I totally understand but this time he doesn’t understand and he knows this one is going to crush him. His head and bones and joints are already hurting. How much can he take?

When her lip trembles, he knows it’s almost over so he leans up, pressing his lips to hers. He’s not going down without a fight. She doesn’t resist, lets him smooth his hands across the tops of her thighs to her hips, and then she’s kissing him back, sweetly, softly, and he lets out a little whimper when her hand tugs lightly at the curls on the nape of his neck.

They pull back and he realizes he’s fucked. He’s absolutely fucked.

“Ok,” she says softly.

This is a dream, he thinks. The woman of his dreams, his wildest fantasies, isn’t really saying yes… is she? But she’s biting her lip and smiling and her cheeks are turning red and he’s so in love and she just said ok.

To them being together.

He looks at her like she hung the moon

#i love this so much!!#its really good writing #shawn rec

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