Shawn Mendes Imagines (Reader Insert)

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Prompt: Going to a hockey game with Shawn // "Your hands are so cold" & "Hey, are you still awake?"

Warnings: None! 

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Word Count: 2.2k | Fluff

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Being Canadian, there were a lot of stereotypes that came with the nationality: Tim Horton's being God's blessing to the earth, everyone was always a bit too polite, and you were expected to live and breathe hockey.

While you found most of the stereotypes true, there was one aspect of yourself that your friends always thought made you "un-Canadian." And it was that you couldn't care less about hockey.

You were never vocal about your indifference toward the game. Most of your friends learned how to skate on the ice at the same time they learned to walk, but not you. You always went to support your friends at their hockey games, but other than the sound of the puck gliding on the ice, nothing about the game appealed to you.

And whenever you got caught up in a hockey conversation, you would nod along and smile, not understanding what forechecking or icing meant.

The most recent time where hockey was brought up in conversation was when you were at a twenty-four hour diner with your friends, and the boy you just started seeing, Shawn. It was well known that Shawn was a hockey fanatic, and you had yet to tell him that the game he obsessed over was one you didn't care much about.

The twenty-four hour diner was a spot you wound up at with your friends every Saturday night during high school. And with it being all of your last years at University, everyone thought it would be fun to relive the "glory days." And while you were all for reliving your so called "glory days," Shawn was finally home after finishing up tour, and you asked your friends if he could tag along.

And that's how you found yourself in a booth, pressed between the side wall and Shawn, with his arm lazily hanging around your shoulder. Your head was rested on his shoulder as you mindlessly paid attention to Shawn and your friends conversing about hockey.

"How do you talk hockey with this one?" One of your friends threw a french fry at you. You scrunched up your nose and flipped them off, "I hardly consider her Canadian."

Shawn tilted his head at your friend, "What do you mean?"

"She doesn't like hockey," another one of your friend's piped in and you saw Shawn's eyes widen as his head turned to face you, "She's weird, isn't she?"

"What?" Shawn's attention was solely on you now, blocking out all of your friends saying how weird it was that you didn't like the sport.

You raised your head from his shoulder to look him in the eyes as you shrugged, "Never got into it."

Shawn scrunched up his nose, "So you don't like hockey?"

You tried your hardest to keep your laughter in as you looked at his genuinely offended face, "Just indifferent."

"Basically the same thing," Shawn scoffed as he shook his head, "I'm taking you to a game."

"Shawn, you don't––"