Shawn Mendes Imagines

"You Don't Even Know My Name"

requested by xx_jennaxx i'm switching it up just a lil to make it cuter! hope you enjoy! xx

***

Shawn's POV

"Shawn's bag weighs too much, so I'm taking it to cargo. Take him to security, will you?"

Andrew was using his multi-tasking voice, the one that reveals itself when he gets stressed out and tries to protect himself from divulging. The vein on his forehead had been on display since the cab ride over here.

He hands me over to Jack, who handled things in a much calmer manner and quietly escorts me to the security of our flight number.

"You made him lose it," Jack chuckles as he removes his shoes, placing them in the plastic bin and sliding them through the crevice. I do the same.

"Excuse me," I raise my hands in surrender. "He booked my flight for Friday the thirteenth. And I'm sorry, but no way! This tour makes me jittery enough as it is. I'm not going to climb on an airplane overseas on the official day of bad luck."

"Whatever," Jack laughs, his dark hair shaping his head and falling slightly by his ears.

After we get through security, Jack announces that he has to take a leak before his penis explodes, which admittedly I did not need to know. I walk over to the gate by myself and wait for Andrew to return, setting my thinner duffle bag down in the chair beside me and pulling my phone out of my back pocket to check my messages.

The message at the very top was from one my tour manager and one of Andrew's abundance of friends, who often randomly sent me memes that I could glance at in between my busy schedules and laugh at the accuracy.

Except this time, it was not a meme. It was a YouTube video link, and after clicking on it mindlessly, I came to discover it was a clip of a fat guy falling over a podium while giving a toast at a wedding. Classy.

I watched it at least ten times, losing myself even more than the last. It just got funnier and funnier.

"Ahh, the overweight man and the wedding toast," I hear someone say beside me, and immediately glance up. "That's a good one, I've seen it a billion times. So great."

I furrow my eyebrows at the petite girl, who immediately struck me as familiar. Her eyes were the first thing I noticed, and the whole scene suddenly felt like a dejavu, like I was reliving something.

She giggles at me gawking at her, and then shakes her head slightly. "Why are you staring at me like that, Mendes?"

Day One, I thought to myself. Day One, remember this day. The first day you met your future wife and the mother of your children.

"Um, I'm sorry," I click my phone off, sliding it back into my pocket. I lift my sunglasses up atop my head in one swift motion to get a better look at her. "Do I know you?"

"Unfortunately, no," she laughs, her eyes lighting up and making me shiver. Her grin was so knowing, so uncanny, it nearly sent me over the edge. "But I know you, of course."

I know it's cliche and awkward, and it most likely made her extremely uncomfortable, but I could not stop staring. It honestly felt like someone had a gun barrel pressed to my head and was forcing me with eye magnets to keep my gaze glued to her.

Was it love at first sight, or was I losing my mind? I'm going to go for the latter. It seems more reasonable.

Then, all of a sudden, as soon as she flashes that cheeky grin once more, I felt myself free fall into a never-ending abyss of realization that held me tightly by every limb.

It was her.

Okay, Day Two. Day Two, then.

I didn't even know her name, but I could still remember the big, lovely smile on her face-- the one that held my mind and sanity captive for months on end, as I searched north to south every social media in existence for a name, someway to find her.

I never thought in a million years that in a world this big and out of reach, I'd ever see her again. Ever.

"You're the one," I mutter under my breath, my round eyes widening slowly. "You're her."

"Ha ha," she bites her lip, so effortlessly and in a way that was so adorable I was overwhelmed with the desire and lust to throw myself at her. "I was hoping that song was about me."

"What is it?" I say quickly, breathing heavily.

"What's what?" she leans back, cocking her head to the side like a confused puppy.

"What's your name? Please tell me. Please."

"Calm down, Mendes. I'm only human. Let's see... what might my name be..?"

"I swear to God--"

"It's Y/N. Y/N is my name."

I repeat it quietly to myself to be sure I heard correctly, my head still spinning as I did so.

Y/N.

She looked like a Y/N. It suited her perfectly. Then again, she could have the name SpongeBob and it would most probably not stand a chance in competing against her smoking hot profile.

"I'm just wondering," she sets down the magazine she was holding, folding it shut on her lap, "do I get a new song, now? You know, now that you do know my name."

"Absolutely," I nod quickly. "Anything you want, it's yours. Marry me."

***

hey girlsssss