Shawn Mendes Imagines

Picnic

"I think that's a good spot. It's in the shade, so we're not being murdered by the rays of the sun, right?"

"Shawn, don't be such a baby," You say, struggling to carry your backpack of food. You wanted to be old fashion and have a weaved basket with a red plaid blanket, but you didn't have either of those, so you got a black backpack and a blue blanket.

"Let me help you with that," Shawn laughs, taking the backpack off your shoulders and allowing you to only carry the blanket over your arm.

"Hey, there's a good spot." You point to an area under a short tree, half of it shaded and half of it not. Some sun leaked through the leaves, creating the perfect quarter-shaded, comfortable picnic spot.

"Roll out that blanket, baby," Shawn says in a low voice, licking his lips.

"What the frick, Shawn, stop making everything you say dirty."

He laughs and helps you set everything up, then plops down on the blanket and pulls out your ziplock bags of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. He hands you a snapple after unscrewing it for you and taking a sip of it.

"Ew," He makes a disgusted face, "How do you like that sour crap?"

"It's good!" You argue.

Halfway into your picnic, a flock of geese comes running over from the pond beside you.

"Um, Y/N," Shawn hits your shoulder.

"Relax," You say when you see them. "They're just hungry."

You reach into the backpack and pull out one of the ziplock bags where you put your bread crusts. You unzip it and toss some pieces out, watching the geese go crazy and gobble them up.

When you ran out, the geese seemed to be confused and one darted towards you in hopes of devouring the bag. Shawn screeches as the goose causes you to knock over Shawn's water bottle, spilling it all over his jeans.

The goose scampers away, along with all of the others, and you turn to face Shawn, laughing.

"Sorry, that one got a little crazy. Let me help you with that." You pull out a paper towel and start dabbing it all over his upper thigh.

"This is the closest we've ever gotten to sex," He mumbles, causing you to erupt in laughter.

"That makes me feel really awkward doing it," You say.

"You kind of had that one coming. If I didn't know better I would think you did it on purpose, just so you could caress my leg."

You laugh. "I didn't even do it, it was the goose!"

"Relax, they're just hungry!" He impersonates you, doing his best sexist, female voice.

"I hate you," You say with a smile.

He sits up. "What?"

"I said," you laugh, "I hate you."

"That's what I thought you said, but forgive me for thinking you might actually be a good girlfriend, my bad."

Suddenly he jumps to his knees and pins you to the ground, his deep voice close to your ear as he kisses your neck jokingly. He starts tickling your ribs and you kick your legs, begging him to stop.

"What did you say again?" He says, his face centimeters from yours.

"I h-hate y-you."

"Y/N, you love me and you know it."

"I know," You blush.

Suddenly he stops laughing and looks down at you, his gaze narrowing on your eyes.

"Wait, what?"

You pause. "I said I love you, Shawn."

He smiles. "That's a relief. I thought I was the only one."

Then he leans a little further, closing the gap between you as he presses his lips to yours.

When you pull away after a long time, you tell him, "Your lips taste like peanut butter."

"Yours taste like jelly," He responds.

"Oh my god, that was so cute."

A/N

I updated this in science class. Whoop.