Shawn Mendes Imagines

Stress

You rub your eyes as the child in front of you lets out a piercing scream, wailing as he seeks comfort and warmth in his swaddle blanket, which you were unable to figure out.

Your husband, Shawn, was picking up his son Alex from preschool-- even though it was supposed to be his babymommy, his high school girlfriend Amy, picking him up today. You really needed help with your own child, who, by the way, was still crying his eyes out.

The noise was giving you a migraine, and you couldn't make it stop because he was laying on the floor, freezing cold in the middle of a f.ucking complicated swaddle.

"I know, I'm trying," you say breathlessly as he lets out another scream.

You felt like a terrible mother for wanting to strangle your kid, but it was getting to you. You couldn't take the crying.

"Please shut up," you felt tears well up in your eyes as your head pounded, your messy hair falling over your face in loose strands as you flipped through a booklet explaining the blanket.

The front door opened and the beeping alarm went off briefly, causing baby Nathan to cry even harder.

"Hey hey hey," Shawn says cheerfully, acting oblivious as he carried three-year old Alex on his hip.

You groan as the baby continued to scream, wondering how he wasn't driving himself crazy.

"What's wrong, Nate?" Shawn coos, setting Alex down and letting him run to his room. You could barely hear him talking over the noise.

"Y/N, are-- "

"What?" you huff, frustrated. "What?"

He holds up his hands in surrender. "Nothing, I was just-- "

"It's not my fault I can't figure out the damn swaddle and the baby thinks I'm trying to kill him! And the neighbors are probably going to call DHS or something because they think I'm murdering my child!"

"Calm down," Shawn walks over to you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

Without meaning to, you push him off and go back to the booklet, sighing in exhaustion.

"I'm trying to figure this out so he'll shut up!"

"I'm sorry," he says defensively. "You know, Amy never swaddled Alex and he turned out f-- "

"Don't," you turn towards him, holding up a finger. "Don't you dare. I don't care about your ex girlfriend's mothering towards your son. This is my baby and I want him to be swaddled, and I don't need your opinion or Amy's towards my decisions."

He furrows his eyebrows, his lips parting slowly. "Excuse me? I'm trying to help."

"I don't need your help, Shawn, I want him to stop crying and I can do it myself!"

"Fine," he turns away, annoyed, walking back to Alex's room and away from you.

You groan again, knowing he was just adding more stress.

Finally, you figured out the blanket, and Nathan stopped screaming the moment you lifted him up and sat back down on the couch.

His little brown eyes were red from all the crying, but he looked peaceful, and at last, you could relax.

You lift him to your chest and start breastfeeding, his eyes slowly closing.

You hold his back, closing your eyes as well as you lean back on the couch.

When he was done, you fix your stained shirt and carry him to the nursery, laying him down in the crib as he curls up, already asleep.

You watch him there, not mad at him any more. He looked like a baby angel when he was sleeping. You reach for the shelf above him and turn on the monitor, turning around to walk out the door right as Shawn was walking in.

The room was dark, the only light coming in from the window, which was enough to see his silhouette as he moved in front of it.

"Is he asleep?" Shawn whispers as he leans over the edge of the crib.

You nod slowly, even though he wasn't looking at you. You were irritated with him, but he looked sincere.

"I'm sorry, cuddlebug," he apologizes softly as he steps over to you, pressing his lips softly to your forehead as his hands land on your waist. "You were already stressed out and I just made it worse with my drama. I shouldn't have done that."

"It's okay," you sigh. "It was my fault anyway. I mean, what a nice greeting to come home to."

He laughs quietly.

You look at him, his eyes locking on yours as he tucks one of the strands of your hair behind your ear.

"You know this mom thing," you add, shaking your head, "its a lot harder than I thought it would be."

He smiles and pecks at your lips quickly, still holding you close as he pulls you all the way in, your head resting on his shoulder as his arms fully wrap around your body.

"There's no other woman who can do it like you can," he says, his voice raspy as he squeezes you. "I love you so much. And I'm glad I got to marry you, and have a baby with you and spend my life with you and only you."

**