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pretendrocketships · 4 years

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Mi Error

About: You fight with him the most, but you’re still Shawn’s favorite employee (assistant x Shawn)

A/N: I write the angst first and the rest is all filler to me LMAO. I’m sorry, it’s just a race to the sex scenes at this point

Song: Mi Error by Lunay

The light shining through the hotel windows was blinding, and very annoying considering the night you had. You felt horrible. Maybe it was lack of sleep and dodgy catering at the venue, but you started the day at a four out of ten. As your consciousness was flooding back to you, last night’s conversation make your stomach turn even more.

“Can I think about it?”

“You’re in charge of me, I’m not in charge of you.”

His words rang in your head over and over, the weight of the words unable to escape your ears. You knew what he said, but you were still wondering if he knew what he meant. Saying yes could mean you were out of a job. A job you worked so hard for. A job you loved. The devil on your shoulder didn’t forget to remind you that true love only comes once. You rolled over and pushed yourself into the pillow and groaned.

“Hey, don’t go smothering yourself before I’ve even given you your breakfast,” you heard a voice boom next to you.

“Fuck!” you jumped and clutched the duvet to your chest when your eyes finally settled on Shawn

“What are you doing in her-- how did you even get in here?” He helped up your key card.

“I’m your boss, duh,” he said with a wide grin before putting the card down. “Well actually you left it in my room last night, but same thing.”

“You’re --”

“Here with breakfast!” he finished for you. You rolled your eyes with a smile and sat up.

“Might wanna…” he trailed off and nodded towards you. You looked at him puzzled, not understanding what he was referring to until you traced his gaze to your chest. You huffed and pulled the duvet higher. He winked at you and placed the tray over your lap. He settled back into the armchair and immediately pulled out his phone. You started setting up your space to eat when Brian barged in.

“Okay, does everyone have a key to my room!” you asked as both the boys laughed.

“Kinda my job,” Brian explained before clapping. “Glad you’re eating. Was worried when I got your text.”

“What text?” Shawn asked sitting up. You shot Brian a knowing look, making sure he kept his mouth shut.

“Nothing,” you responded quickly. Shawn shot you another look you were familiar with, the one that told you he knew you were bullshitting and to just cut it out so you could get on with your day.

“Brain?” he asked, not even questioned, because the entire room knew Brian would end up caving.

“God, I hate being in the middle of you two. Just tell him, (Y/N).”

“It’s nothing,” you attempted to reassure him

“Tell me what?” He turned to you, forcing you to hold eye contact

“Jesus! She’s sick. That’s it. She texted me she wasn't feeling well. I told her to take the day off and rest, but she said no, so I came to check on her.” Shawn’s face immediately softened, and he was instantly by your side.

“Honey, why didn’t you just tell me.” Brian rolled his eyes.

“You guys are incredible,” he muttered to himself under his breath.

“I’m fine! I’m going to get ready right now. Please tell the team I’m sorry for making everyone late.” You tried to push the covers down and get out of bed, but Shawn’s lanky figure was blocking your exit.

“If you think you’re getting out of bed right now you’re out of your damn mind.”

“Shawn, I said I’m fine. You are not the b--” you stopped mid-sentence upon seeing his smirk.

“Yeah that’s right. I am your boss, and I am ordering you to stay in bed and clear my schedule.You never take a day off and now I’m forcing you.”

“No. No you are not taking off today and neither am I,” you fired back, snaking around him to try and get up.

“Brian, you heard me. If (Y/N) won’t cancel it, I trust you will listen and do so.” No matter how bad you felt, the authority dripping from his voice was hot.

“I--um,” his uncomfort seeping through, “I’ll go make some calls.” With Brian gone, Shawn was free to pull you back into bed, flush against his chest. You struggled against the weight of his arms to free yourself.

“Shawn! You can’t just do that. I need to work. I want to work; I’m not dying.” The fire in you was met with Shawn’s soft eyes.

“I…” he started, trying to find the right words. “I know you can handle yourself, I promise I know that. But,” he paused, “I also know that you could use someone to think about you first, since you never do, and just for today will you let me be that person? Please?” His voice was barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid to let his thoughts seep out any more than they already have. You sighed, unable to keep the fire inside of you going when he was being so sweet already. “Shhh, stop thinking and just relax.” His arms wrapped around you, his thumb rubbing little circles into your lower back. He smelled like he always did, the pure cotton soap he always stole from you when he forgot his and his cologne. His curls were brushing against your forehead as his whispered unfinished song lyrics into your temples. Somewhere between track three and nine, you felt yourself drifting.

“Love, love can you hear me. Wake up for me (Y/N).” You hear Shawns voice wafting through your ears. You weren’t sure if you were dreaming or not until you felt soft strokes to your hair “C’mon, angel. Please?” You squeezed your eyes shut, realizing he wasn’t going away. “Now I know you’re awake. C’mon, (Y/N), gotta eat.” Your eyes fluttered open only to glare at him.

“No,” you huffed and turned away from him. His grin was so big, he couldn’t contain himself.

“One, you’re adorable when you first wake up, and two you’re adorable when you think you have a choice. Open up.” he said, holding a spoonful of room service soup that he was trying hard not to spill.

“Already said. Don’t wanna.” You knew you were grumbling like a child, but you were an adult, and if you wanted to use your forced day off mopping about in bed, then so be it. Shawn sighed, wondering why he thought you would give up being stubborn, especially when you were sick.

“Half the bowl and some orange juice, and you need to take whatever medicine Brian brought up for you.” The soothing rub to your lower back was making you drift further back into sleep.

“Sh-”

“Hey, love.” He leaned down to whisper in your ear, continuing his hands ghosting over your back. His voice was gentle and sweet, the perfect combination to make you want to fall asleep next to him night after night. “I’m not asking, I’m telling. I’m going to help you sit up and you’re going to drink this soup and take this nasty ass medicine with orange juice, then I’m going to sing you back to sleep.” You never knew someone could threaten you so sweetly. You huffed and sat up, pouting at him unknowingly. You could see the corners of his mouth fighting not to turn up into a smile.

You had a routine going: slurp, sip, sweet nothings. Shawn’s encouragement and praise under his breath with action made you forget that your boss took the day off to hand-feeding you soup in your death bed. Almost.

“S-shawn,” you cleared your throat, grimacing at the sudden pain. “Us, this--” He immediately cut you off.

“We’ll talk about that later. Right now, you need to focus on getting better because without you my world would fall apart.” You quickly glanced at him and he tried to cover his blush with a cough, though the two were completely unrelated. “I mean like tour and promo and stuff, you are the best at it.” A soft smirk graced your lips, and he shook his head. “Okay you need your rest, goodnight,” he declared, wrapping the duvet tightly around you and moving your body into his side. “So where was I,” he thought aloud. “New song, my favorite,” he remembered and starting humming a song completely foreign to you.

“Thank you,” you whispered as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting you drift off for the second time. Shawn occupied the time replying to fans and watching videos on his phone. He couldn’t find a reason in the world to leave you until Brian’s face popped up on his phone, ruining the past fifteen minutes of him watching you sleep.

“I said clear my schedule.”

“I realize that, Shawn, but you didn’t give me much time. I got you out of everything but this. It’s one interview. I’m sure she’ll still be sleeping by the time you come back. Since you fucking drugged her.” He muttered that last part under his breath.

“I did not!,” Shawn lowered his voice to a whisper when he felt you stirring in his arms. “I simply slipped some cold medicine in her orange juice. I was helping!” he added when Brian gave him a pointed look.

“Whatever this is,” he said nodding towards their entangled bodies, “is none of my business, I just need you out in 15.” And with that, the call ended. Shawn sighed and looked down to your sleeping figure again.

“Be back soon, angel.”

You weren’t sure when you woke up exactly, or how you fell asleep, but you realized the warmth you were growing used to was missing. You stirred, looking for him but quickly came to notice he was nowhere to be found. You huffed and rolled over to his side of the bed and snuggled into the duvet while fishing around for your phone. You initially shield your eyes from the brightness of the screen, but once you actually see your phone, you wish you hadn’t opened it in the first place. The entire team had notifications about Shawn up on their phones, so if something broke you all would be the first to catch it. Everyone had different news outlets so you could cover the most ground, and you desperately wished you didn’t pick Insider on day one.

INSIDER NEWS ABOUT SHAWN’S MUSE? WE HAVE THE STORY

You read the title as soon as he walked into the room, a bright smile plastered across his face. Your eyes were hard when they met his, causing the smile he once held to disappear.

“You’re awake. What’s wrong? Are you ok? Did something happen while I was gone?” you could see the wheels turning in his head trying to diagnose you before you even responded.

“Oh, I’m fine. What about you? Where’d you go?” your tone laced in sarcasm.

“Glad you’re feeling well enough to pick a fight with me,” he muttered under his breath, “just tell me what the problem is so I can fix it, please,” he asked. He was getting tired of going back and forth. If he did something wrong he wished he at least knew so he could begin groveling and begging for your forgiveness.

“Not picking a fight. Just asking a question.” You knew you were being unfair but after falling asleep in his arms, him taking care of you, you knew you needed to have The talk before things got any more out of hand.

“What is wrong. Please just give me a hint. I never know what the problem is with you anymore.” He muttered that last part under his breath, but not quiet enough.

“Oh, you want a list?” you said, hand on your hip, not backing down. You thought if you just wore him out enough he would let it go, and you could just brush up on your acting skills. Should you be mad at him for canceling his entire day to be with you and only going in to work to do one interview? No. But seeing the headline pop up on your phone screen just opened the floodgates of all the insecurities you had about this very, very complicated relationship.

“Yes,” he said leaning back on the desk chair with his arms folded over his chest. Stop staring at his biceps, (Y/N). Focus.

“You want an actual list?” you scoffed in disbelief. He nodded.

“Yup.” He opened his legs and patted his lap. “Come tell daddy what’s wrong.” You laughed, not loud, but it was enough. The sound of your laugh radiating around him. It made him feel warm, feel good that he can make you laugh like that after all this time. He just wanted to get the cloud of tension out of the room. “Okay, probably shouldn’t have said that, but I do really wanna know what’s been going on.” You raised an eyebrow, and his inviting smile had you moving before you even realized. You stopped at your work bag and pulled out a legal pad. “Jesus, you legal padded me?” he said, looking at you wide-eyed before sinking back into his chair, a cocky smirk lacing his lips. “You got it bad huh?” You rolled your eyes and threw it at his chest.

“You want a list? There you go.” He eyed you before sitting up, hands open when you dropped the pad on his lap. You looked between you and the note before grazing at the list.

“Hell yeah, I am. What the--NO! C’mon, you can’t be fucking serious with this?”

“You ask and you shall receive,” you said, pushing yourself up to sit straight against the bed’s headboard. He cleared his throat before starting the list.

“Rockstar, don’t know how that’s a bad thing by the way. Number two extremely annoying,” he read with an eye roll. “You love it and you know it...Camilla?” he questioned rolling his eyes. He ripped the page out of your pad, balled it up, and threw it. “Fucking bullshit,” he said grumbling to himself. There he went again, pushing every single one of your fucking buttons.

“Oh, so you ask me why I’m mad, and I lay it out for you and you call it bullshit? Fuck you. I’m going to bed.”

“BULLSHIT,” he says loudly, leaving no place for you to run from the sound of his voice. “What the fuck does Camilla have to do with this?” His voice was dripping disgust as he spoke her name. You laughed, and for the first time did he think it sounded ugly, bitterness fortified with every chuckle.

“Of course you don’t remember where this all started because that’s not your job. It’s mine.”

“So this is about the boss thing!” He was desperate to connect the dots to a picture that wasn’t making sense to him.

“No, Shawn! Yes, but Camilla is part of this.” He groaned leaning back in his chair.

“Can you stop saying her name plea--”

“Why!” you erupted, leaving your place on the bed to get in his face. “Don’t like me bringing up your fucking girlfriend?” He leaped up at that, staring you in the eyes, noses almost touching before he turned away from you, your intense stare making him feel like he did something wrong. He swung back around, feeding off your anger to fuel his.

“You of all people know it was PR!” Spittle was flying, and you would call him gross if you weren’t so mad.

“It was PR. It was, ‘how many hours do I have to be at my PR stunt tonight’,” you said, mocking his voice in a way he used to find cute, but now just felt like daggers, “it was ‘isn’t talking to my fake girlfriend part of your job?’. It was all that until you were with her 24/7 without me planning anything. That was on you.”

“Oh my god, oh my god YOU TOLD ME,” he began to yell and you stepped back from him. He sighed and turned his head, holding the bridge of his nose, trying to force himself to calm down. “You’re the one who told me no one was buying it. You’re the one who told me to be nice. You’re the one who told me to try harder. So I did, and now I’m in trouble for it?” Technically, he was right. You did say all those things, but as a part of your job, you had to. He never asked you what you, (Y/N), the one who was enamored by him, the real him, thought. “This isn’t really about her is it?”

“Oh wow, fuck me for having feelings. I’m sorry, won’t happen again.”

“Stop it. Stop it right fucking now,” he warned in a tone you never heard often, forcing you to look up at him. “Stop pushing me away when I’m trying to work this out. I’m trying to figure out what’s actually bothering you because, hate to break it to you, honey, I know you. I know this is what you do with everything. Every. Fucking. Thing. You run because you don’t want to deal with things or you think they’ll change if you ignore it, but it’s not happening with me.” He sighed and threw his head in his hands, holding back cries that were waiting to rack through his chest. “Thought with me, it’d be different but,” he gave up on speaking, not wanting to finish the thought.

You didn’t say anything because you had no idea what to say next. Silence fell over the room, and neither of you liked it. Yelling and screaming at least meant you cared, meant you weren’t ready to give up, but now, no one had anything to say, so it was just silent.

“That's just it Shawn! It’s not one thing. It’s a million little things we’ve never talked about and now here we are. He sat down on the bed, hands folded in his lap.

“So talk.” You were fuming. If it were so simple, why did he think you were doing all this.

“It’s not that easy, Shaw. We,” you said motioning in between you two, “are not that easy.”

“We could be if you just told me why the hell you’re bringing up Camilla now?” You turned away from him and rolled your eyes, angrily.

“So we’re going to pretend you didn’t say that every fucking song you’ve written has been about her. Are you fucking joking?” You didn’t realize how much that bothered you until you heard the tone of your own voice.

“People weren’t talking about us anymore!” he pleaded with you, he grabbed your hand and tried to will you to look at him before you snatched your hands from him, “they were talking about us breaking up and my album isn’t even out. What was I supposed to do?”

“Oh, I don’t know, talk to me? Like you always did before any business decisions but that’s the point. That wasn’t business. That was your feelings, and I can’t blame you for that because that’s not my job. My job,” you paused to glare at him, “my place is clearly as your assistant and your assistant alone.”

“Can you stop fucking lying? Is that possible for you?”

“You cannot talk to me like that,” you growled.

“As your boss, yes I can.” you scoffed and turned away from, fuming facing the door. “But as the guy who is just begging you to let me in,” he said, his voice strained from holding so much emotion, “please, just talk to me.” You bit your lip and turned to face him, but couldn’t bring yourself to keep eye contact. “Honey,” he trailed off. He watched your body tense up.

“Don’t.” He threw his hands up in the air.

“Don't what? I’ve called you that so many fucking times before, why is it a problem now? What the fuck is wrong with you! I thought we were getting better.” At this point, it sounded like he was begging you to agree with him, give him something to let him know everything wasn’t in his head.

“We haven’t talked! Things haven’t changed.” He cut you off immediately.

“Because you haven’t talked to me! I put everything in your hands, our future, our everything, and you never said anything about it.” His chest was heaving as if he had just gone for his morning run.

“You can’t put this all on me,” you argued, glaring at him, mad at him for no reason other than being right.

“Oh, but I can. I told you how I feel, but you? I have no idea what’s going through your head and it’s driving me mad.” he said pulling at his hair. “One minute you’re yelling at me about some HR policy that we’ve both never heard of because it doesn’t apply to us, the next you’re letting me hold you in my arms and you can’t just give me a taste of that and take it away.” His eyes are swimming with so many things you can’t even place. “Make up your mind, because this fucking hurts,” he muttered shaking his head before grabbing his jacket off the bed and leaving you alone in your thoughts. Again.

FUCK. I LOVE ANGST.

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