Shawn Mendes one shots

Sunday Mornings (Smut)

"Are you watching me sleep again?" I asked, covering my face with my palms.

I still didn't open my eyes, nor did I unravel myself from the comfy position under the warm blanket.

Sundays were for staying in bed. At least that was my opinion. Shawn on the other hand, had a hard time spending his time doing absolutely nothing. Usually, he would go to the gym early in the morning, before I'd even opened my eyes.

But he would always come back to bed and wait for me to wake up as well. Even if he had to lay here for hours. He always wanted me to wake up to him on Sundays.

Honestly, Sundays were our days. They were made for him and I.

"No" Shawn said, defensively. Even with my eyes shut, I could imagine him biting into his under lip, before slowly licking it.

"Shawn..."

"What?"

"I can literally feel your eyes burning on me. It's creepy" I teased him, smiling widely.

I heard his childish giggle, which finally made me open my eyes and shortly after, Shawn's familiar gaze met me.

His hair was messy, his chest was naked and his eyes were still sleepy. He was lying on his side beside me, just looking at me without saying anything.

Shawn let his fingertip run down my cheek, putting a tot of hair behind my ear. His loving smile grew and ran across his lips, before his hand slipped across the mattress and found mine.

Gently, he interlaced our fingers, before pulling my hand up to his soft lips. He let them brush against my knuckles, before planting four small kisses on my skin.

"I can't help it, I like you like this"

"Like what?"

"All soft and sleepy, with messy hair and rosy cheeks in my t-shirt" Shawn's words made my heart feel warm.

He didn't even have to try, whatever he said, always hit something deep inside of me.

I was lucky. I knew that. I got to wake up every morning, roll to my side and kiss the love of my life good morning.

How many people really got to do that?

I wanted to say something back, but my words were never as beautiful as his were. I could never compete with him, when the songwriter came up in him and I'd rather not even give it a try.

But it was moments like these; lying in bed on an early Sunday morning, looking into his dark eyes and feeling the butterflies appear in my stomach, that truly made me understand, just how much I actually loved him.

I let my hand touch his cheek, stroking him softly with my thumb.

"You're my favourite person" I whispered back to him, biting into my lip.

It wasn't even half the things I wanted to tell him, but it would have to do.

Shawn's gaze fell on me for a second, before a little but warm smile slipped out. He leaned closer to me, closing the gap between our lusting lips, before his wet tongue slipped into my mouth.

His kisses tasted like coffee. Honestly, coffee kisses were my favourites as well.

"I better fucking be" he laughed against my lips, before brushing his nose tip against mine.

Shawn's thumb pushed up my chin and forced our lips together once again.

How he – after all these years – still had the power to give me chills with his touches, was still a mystery to me. I never really seemed to get used to it. To him being mine, to him kissing me.