Shawn Mendes Imagines

Father's Day (+ Bonus Imagine)

ok first of all ^^

second of all, this chapter is going to have TWO imagines since I was torn between the two plots I came up with. hope you like them both!

***

"Daaaaaad," Manny groans, smacking Shawn repeatedly on the back with a nearby pillow, giving it all of his might even though Shawn didn't seem to even notice. Manny's arms were too thin and frail, having only five and a half years to grow.

"Dad!" Nathan, your other son, grumbles under his breath. "Wake up! We have a present for you!"

You watch them from the doorway, giggling slightly as they struggle to pull him out of the comfort of his slumber across the thick floral duvet. His back was bare and facing the ceiling, his rosy cheek resting on his pillow in exhaustion.

He peeks a gleamy brown eye open, and both of them begin yelling all over again.

"Shawn, get up," you laugh, and in an instant, as soon as your demand left your lips, you see him rise.

"Wha--?" Manny gazes from you to Shawn, his tiny mouth agape, "you listen to Mom when she only told you once but we told you a thousand times and--?"

"Mom has a very powering and demanding voice," Shawn acknowledges. "You can thank each other for doing that to her."

"Whatever," you shake your head, "kids, now that he's up, do you want to give Dad his Father's Day present?"

"Yeah!" they shout in unison, racing across the bedroom and out the door.

They returned a swift moment later carrying Shawn's large, polished wooden taylor guitar in both hands, using teamwork to carry it together. It wasn't a brand new one, it was the same one Shawn bought for himself the day his first album was released years ago. He finally gifted it to Nathan for his ninth birthday a few months ago, since Nathan had googly eyes for the guitar since day one.

Nathan technically began learning to play it as a joke when he was just a few years old, but didn't actually take it seriously until recently. In your own opinion, mother instincts aside, you insisted he was extremely talented.

"What's with the guitar?" Shawn asks, his voice groggy and hoarse. "If that's my present, I'm judging you all."

"No," Manny, who was quite the little chatterbox, shakes his head. "For your gift, Nate and I wrote you a song."

Shawn raises his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Well," Nathan shrugs, "Mom helped a little."

You give him a knowing wink and watch as he sits on the far edge of the bed, adjusting the guitar on his lap and pulling the pick from his pocket. Shawn sits forward, watching intently as Nathan begins to play.

Throughout the entire song that Manny sang cutely, loudly and off-key, Shawn's grin became wider and wider until it was practically touching both of his ears. Despite having just woken up, his eyes seemed illuminated and alert, and he averted them from son to son.

When the song ended with the two of them belting in unison, "Happy Father's Day," Shawn looked so unbelievably proud and content as he pushed away the guitar and wrapped his strong arms around them both.

"Y/N, you goof, get in on our cute family hug," Shawn demands, and you roll your eyes before diving right on top.

Everyone laughs, and Shawn plants a kiss on each of your foreheads before murmuring, "I love you cute idiots so much."