First Thanksgiving

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At the front door of your grandparents' house, Shawn was adjusting his watch, double checking the time. He then straightened out the wrinkles that made home to his button-down shirt and black skinny jeans. You were dressed in one of your favorite dresses that reaches your ankles to protect you from the cool fall breeze, and your long hair that you've grown out for the last year was curled.

"Is it okay that we're ten minutes early?" Shawn asks, his voice a little high pitched and fragile sounding.

You scoff. "Shawn, it's fine. Even if we were on time, the y/l/n family is never ready until an hour later. You can help my family cook, or if my cousin is here, you two can wrestle. But make sure he doesn't mess up that beautiful face of yours!" You laugh as you kiss his chin.

As Shawn was about to knock on the door, your grandmother swung it open, her hair frizzy, her apron stained, and her hands covered in something, what you hoped it to be butter.

"Oh, my grand-baby! How was the flight?" Your grandmother asks quite loudly. "Oh, Shawn Darling, you look quite handsome! Y/N, you picked a good one! Come in! Come in!" She moves aside, and you and Shawn come strolling in, your high heels clicking on the laminate flooring.

Shawn grips your hand tight as you lead him to the kitchen and living room where everyone was huddled and running around like headless chickens.

"Oh, Honey," your mom shouts. "You look beautiful! Everyone, Y/N is here! Oh, and her famous boyfriend!"

You roll your eyes. "Ma, he's more than just famous, and his name is Shawn," you say defensively.

Shawn nudges you and whispers, "It's okay Babe."

To you, it wasn't okay. You want your family to like Shawn not because he's famous -- you hated when people first describe Shawn like that. To you, he was more than that. He was kind, funny, handsome, generous, and so much more. You can go on and on, talking about how Shawn is, and how he's made you the happiest person on the planet -- more than you've ever imagined you can feel.

Your dad engulfs you in a bear hug and rustles your curls. "Ah, it's nice to see you, Y/N!" Your dad turns to Shawn, shaking Shawn's hand tight as he gives him a dead, cold look. "If you break her heart, I'll break you, got it?" Your dad never stops staring down Shawn, and your boyfriend turns to you, his eyes pleading for help.

"Daddy, c'mon." You beg. "Don't do the macho dad thing."

"Oh, I'm just teasing, Love Bug. I don't want a herd of fans outside my house to tear me to shreds." Your dad does the 'manly hug' thing that guys do with the almost chest touching and pats on the back. Shawn looked somewhat relieved. However, the night just started. Anything can happen.

"Y/N, can you help me with the mashed potatoes?" Your mom calls over at you.

You turn to Shawn. "Go sit on the couch and socialize. My oldest cousin probably wants to threaten you too. Or my uncles," you tease.

Shawn nervously laughs as he rolls his eyes.

You walk over to the stove where your mom was mixing a tall pot of mashed potatoes. She glances at you over her shoulder. "I need you to pour some milk as I mix." So you grab the gallon of milk and pour when your mom tells you to. Then your mom sparks a separate conversation. "How's being with Shawn?"

You smile. "Honestly, it's been amazing. Totally worth the horrible breakups in high school." You pour a dab bit more milk.

"Was it scary at first? I mean like was it threatening to be with someone as famous as Shawn?" Your mom stops mixing and makes eye contact with you. You knew it was a serious topic when your mom stopped cooking.

You suck in your breath. Breathe, you tell yourself, be honest. "Yeah. I was especially scared to get death threats from fans. I knew it happened with non-famous people that dated famous people. For example, Liam Payne's girlfriend and Louis Tomlinson's girlfriend. It even happens with famous couples like with Ariana Grande when she broke up with her fiance. She got a lot of hate. I mean, nothing is a secret from the world, you know." You glance back at Shawn who was making small talk with your grandpa and uncles. "But with Shawn and his fans, it's so easy. When I'm with Shawn, everything seems calm." You crack a smile.

Your mother rubs your back, and tell you to pour a little more milk.

After finishing the mashed potatoes, you walk over where the rest of your family was swarming around Shawn, listening to all sorts of stories of touring around the world and traveling.

"You know, I've always wanted to play guitar. Maybe you can teach me," your grandfather says. "You know I won't live forever!"

"Grandpa, Shawn's too busy with going on tours and making music. Maybe you can just take normal classes at the music shop down by the college." You intervene.

Your grandfather huffs. "Okay."

Shawn laughs and makes room on the sofa for you to sit, so you do. You reach for his hand to give it a slight squeeze.

"Has Y/N gone to any other concert with you that's in another state or country?" Your oldest cousin questions.

Shawn and you exchange a glance and simultaneously say yes.

"She actually was with me throughout Europe since she's always wanted to travel through there," Shawn says. "She was in the crowd and at the rehearsal. She was even with me at the meet and greets. The fans loved her." Shawn gives your hand a little squeeze.

You look down at his Swallow tattoo, tracing it with your fingers. It was your favorite tattoo of his besides his home, work, and family-themed tattoo as fit in the shape of a guitar.

You and Shawn even got a matching tattoo: a semi-colon for the semi-colon awareness project. It was a representation of each other's mental illnesses challenges with Shawn's anxiety and your depression. The semi-colon had basically meant you weren't alone and your story never ended. It promises that you will overcome these obstacles.

Shawn had noticed you tracing his tattoo. He chuckles quietly to himself.

"Y/N?" Shawn has a wide smile on his face.

You jerk your head up. "Yeah?"

"Your cousin asked you if you actually like my music or if you're just a big fat liar." Shawn teases as he nudges your side with his elbow.

You roll your eyes and scoff. "Nah, I was only a fan for his looks. Didn't think much of his music," you say sarcastically as you blow a raspberry and put your thumb down. "So terrible."

Shawn puts his hand over his heart as he gasps. "Ouch, babe! You hurt my feelings. I'm dying of a broken heart."

You shove him and he rustles your hair as you both laugh.

"Ew, get a room," your younger cousin says. "Dumb love."

You look over at Shawn and whisper. "Yeah, love," you trail off.


"Thanks, mom." You say as you hand her your plate. "I'll be there in a second to help wash dishes."

"Oh, don't worry Mrs. Y/L/N, I'll help. You relax. Y/N and I got it." Shawn says.

Your mom smiles. "Oh, thank you. So unexpected!" She collects Shawn's plate as well and heads into the kitchen to place them down.

"Shall we?" Shawn says with a smirk.

You and Shawn get up to the kitchen after collecting finished cups and plates. You and Shawn do rock, paper, scissors to see who rinses and who washes. Shawn wins, so he rinses. You begin scrubbing.

"Your family is really great, babe. And I only got threatened by your dad, two uncles, and I think the dog." Shawn laughs.

"Yeah, sorry. I told my grandma you were allergic, but I guess they didn't put Storm away. She's just too spoiled, but is that Benadryl working?"

"Yeah. Not too bad." He takes in a deep breathe. "Ah, that wonderful smell of oxygen!"

You roll your eyes. "Okay. Drama queen."

He leans down and kisses your forehead. "I love you, Y/N. I can't wait until I go to more family events with you."

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