Shawn Mendes Imagines

That's Not Your Sweatshirt

y/f/s/d = your favorite Starbucks drink   

          "Shawn, stop it!" you laughed as he tickled you. "Nope, never!" he smirked, continuing to tickle your sides. "You're the worst boyfriend ever!" you shout, trying to squirm away from his grasp. Yes, boyfriend. Shawn Mendes is your boyfriend. You two have been dating for about two years, and love each other to pieces. There's only one catch...the fans don't know.

          You didn't want the fans to hate, and you felt that it would only stress Shawn out more if the paparazzi were all over him, asking about his girlfriend. Anyway, back to the tickle monster you call your boyfriend. "Take it back!" he yells, tickling you even more. "N-no," you gasp between laughs. "I won't let you wear my sweatshirts if you don't take it back," he sings.

          "O-k, ok. I t-take it back," you squeal, and he stops. You sit up, your sides hurting from all the laughing. "You know I love wearing your sweatshirts. No fair," you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. "I love when you wear my sweatshirts, too. I wasn't actually not going to let you wear them. They make you look adorable," he says.

          You blush and stick your tongue out at him, pretending to be mad. "Aww, is wittle y/n mad?" he says in a baby voice. You ignore him. "Well, I know what'll make you feel better," he says, taking off his sweatshirt and putting it on you. It drapes over you like a dress and covers your shorts. The sleeves hang past your hands. Shawn grins at how cute you look.

          "Hey, I'm going to run to Starbucks and grab a coffee. Do you want anything? The usual, I'm assuming?" he asks, referring to y/f/s/d. You nod, handing him his keys. "Thanks, I'll be back in a few," he says, pecking your lips before grabbing another sweatshirt off the dining room chair and heading out the door. You cuddle up on the couch, turn on the TV, and wait for Shawn to come back.

          You're 10 minutes into an episode of Baby Daddy when Shawn gets back. He walks into the room and hands you your drink, sitting down next to you. He wraps his arms around you, and you inch closer to him. Two episodes later, you fall asleep. Shawn looks down at you to see you sleeping and grind, picking you up and carrying you up to his room.

          He lays you in bed and climbs in with you. He does the usual routine and wraps his arms around you, bringing you closer to him. He eventually falls asleep himself. The next day, you wake up to an empty bed. You sit up and rub your eyes to see a note on the bedside table. 'had to go into the studio today. be back around 3. love you xoxo.' You grin and look at the clock. It's 8:30 am.

          You go downstairs and look through the fridge. 'Dang it, we're out of fruit and yogurt,' you think to yourself as you go upstairs to get ready for the day. You take a quick shower before drying your hair and putting on some makeup. You look around the room for clothes, settling on a pair of athletic shorts and a t-shirt. You find the hoodie Shawn wore yesterday to Starbucks and throw it on.

          You put on some black Vans and head outside, grabbing your keys and purse on the way. You drive to the grocery store to pick up some food, and then go to Starbucks to get y/f/s/d. You walk inside and order it. "Y/n," you say when the barista asks you for your name. You swear you hear a phone camera snap, but ignore it and grab your drink, heading out the door.

          You get home and make yourself a small breakfast. You go to the gym and clean up the house before Shawn gets home. He walks in the door, a cheeky smile on his face. "What's up with you?" you ask, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him. He hands you his phone without saying a word. Twitter is up, and you see some tweets from his fans.

          Your jaw drops, and you look up at him with wide eyes. "How do they know your name?" he asks, the grin still on his face. "Ugh, they must've heard me say it when I got Starbucks. Shawn, I'm so sorry. I totally forgot about your sweatshirt. I'll fix this, you won't have to worry about a thing. I'll tell them there's nothing-" you ramble, but get cut off by Shawn pressing his lips against yours.

          "Babe, calm down, it's fine. Besides, I think it's time to tell them anyways," he says, and you smile. He tweets:

          You giggle, staring into his sparkling brown eyes. He softly kisses your lips again before whispering, "I love it when you wear my sweatshirts."