#smfsource

[shawnpetermuffins]

Decode

Based very loosely off the song decode by paramore.

A/n: I wrote this in 25 minutes. Sorry if it's trash.

Summary: you're supposed to be dating Shawn, so why does everyone think he's dating someone else?

Word count: 1.2k

***

And we're in yet another fight. Over her of course. At this point, I don't even know what's real and what's not. Which isn't what I should be feeling with him. We've been dating for just under two years, privately mostly, but his fans know about me. I just made it clear to Shawn when we started dating that I didn't want to be everywhere. There are things that he puts up with on his own because this is what he chose to do, but it's not what I chose. He respects that. But now he's parading around a girl that's not me because management thinks it'll be good for him to be seen out more.

What really sucks about this though, is that no one thought to ask me how I felt about it? No one thought to ask me how I felt about my boyfriend being seen holding hands and hugging, and fucking making out with someone else in public? Someone who has never even tried to get to know me in our long term relationship, but claims to be my boyfriend's best friend. Someone who has lied in interviews when asked about mine and Shawn's relationship. Saying things like "oh, we're so close! Almost as close and me and Shawn! I love her so much! They make the perfect couple." If she really thought that, she would have come to me herself and asked if I would be okay with her literally groping my boyfriend and sticking her tongue down his throat in the most crowded coffee shop imaginable. But she didn't. And neither did he. Which is why we're where we are now, screaming at each other for not understanding the other's side.

"Are you seriously picking her again? You don't see at all where I'm coming from? You're taking her side?!"

"Why the hell are there sides?"

"You tell me!" I fling my arms dramatically. This really wasn't the time to do this, he's finished his concert and just now thought to tell me that he wouldn't be spending his one day off with me, but instead would be flying out to LA to see her. "You tell me why I'm suddenly not being treated like your girlfriend anymore?"

"Oh, come on! You're being ridiculous!"

"Am I?" I scoff, "I can see how that's easy for you to blame me for this. But I won't take it. I won't, Shawn. I didn't fucking sign up for this. The entire goddamn world thinks you're dating someone else and not a single one of them cares about the fact that we haven't broken up! That we've never led on to a breakup! All they care about is Shawn Mendes playing fucking tonsil hockey with his so called best friend!"

"Y/n, you know it's to help sales."

"It was! Now I'm not so sure. How did we get here, Shawn? Because I'm looking at you right now and I don't even know you. I don't know the person standing in front of me, and frankly, I don't want to. And I think I know now what it is."

"You think you know what?"

"This change. You're not man enough to tell me yourself, but clearly you don't have to. Those pictures, staged or not, show enough. I see it in your eyes. You want her, and maybe it's just the idea of her. Maybe it's the fact that you can go out in public and be seen with her and she's fine with that because she wants to be photographed. She wants everyone to see her. She wants the world to know her and her relationship status and she wants to be relevant to people. You love that. You love that you can share that with someone. But you know that's not what I want and that I've never wanted that."

"Y/n, that's not true. We're just trying to sell the song. I'm with you aren't I? I'm dating you. Have been for a while now, in case you've forgotten."

"I haven't!" I point to myself. "But you apparently have. Because this whole fake relationship is probably the worst thing you've done in your life. You're lying to everyone. Including me. Including your family. And fuck, you're even lying to yourself. Because you may think that you're still with me, but you're not. You know why?"

"No," he runs his hands through his still sweaty hair, "but I'm sure you're gonna tell me."

"You're not with me, because the time we could be spending together, loving each other, you've chosen to spend on a flight to LA to be seen in yet another goddamn coffee shop, near a window with optimal view of you holding holding her hand, and her stroking your chest, and resting her legs in your lap, and you kissing her on the lips. Do you even realize that you've done what you said you never would? You cheated!! You cheated and you don't even see it, you don't even care!"

"I DIDN'T CHEAT ON YOU! It's fake!" His voice echoes through the room and I know that anyone loitering in the halls of the arena could hear him. "How dare you accuse me of that!"

Now it's my turn to get loud, "YOU KISSED HER, SHAWN!" I take in a harsh breath, "You kissed her not once, but twice! That's not cheating? What is it then?!"

He sighs, "Lower your voice. Everyone can hear us," he says lowly.

"That's what you care about? That people can hear? Fucking let them then! Because they can see, too. And I know they've all seen that you and I aren't the same anymore."

"I'm still me, y/n-"

"No you're not!" I cry. "You're not the same Shawn I fell in love with. And I can't keep lying for you. I can't keep making excuses. You've made such a fool out of me, out of us. Out of your fans. Do you see that? Do you see that you've completely shattered any trust I could ever have in you again?"

"But, I didn't mean to. That's not what I was trying to do. Y/n, I love you. You know that."

"I thought I did. But I don't feel it anymore. You don't show it anymore. Because you're so consumed… in her." I let out a deep breath. "I'm going home. I can't do this anymore."

"No, baby. Don't leave." He reaches for me, but I quickly pull back.

"Why shouldn't I? You're doing it! You're doing it to be with someone else. I'm doing this for me. Because whatever has possessed you to be so invested in the publicity of this, it's killing our relationship. No, no. It's killed our relationship."

"What?" And he reaches for me again, this time taking hold of my clammy hands. "No, we can fix this. I know we can. Let me fix it. This whole PR thing will be over in a couple months and then we can talk this all out and we'll be okay."

I let out a bitter laugh, "I wish that could be true. But there's no fixing what you've broken. I'm done, Shawn. I don't want to be with someone who is always going to put his career and reputation - or now lack thereof - before me. So you go to LA and you get photographed with her, and you promote your song, and you forget that we ever happened. Because as far as I'm concerned, it wasn't real anyway." I take my hands roughly out of his and turn to the locked door. Practically his entire team is standing there, eyes wide. I push past them with a tight lipped smile, but I stop halfway down the hall when I hear Shawn's voice.

"You're seriously just gonna walk away from this? You expect me to just forget about us?"

I face him, still so angry and say, "Why don't you call Camila? I'm sure she can help you through this breakup just like you helped her. Have a nice time in LA, Shawn. I hope this works out for you. I hope you're happy." And I leave again without another word to anyone.

***

Tag:@curlyshawny @anamariel2301 @shawns-badreputation @bbellbagel @turtoix @ivegotparticulartaste @tomshufflepuff @dino-16-avocado @sleepybesson @lifeoftheparty74 @shawnssongs

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[shes-soparticular]

Might Just Be My Everything and Beyond

Shawn’s girlfriend leaves town for a bachelorette party. He’s left to his own devices.

A/N: Just fluff. P.S. I’m now taking requests and am happy to start a tag list for anyone interested :)

Words: 4180

     He’s never wanted to be that boyfriend. The hopelessly co-dependent kind that can’t be left to his own devices without his girl around to entertain him. But today? Watching Alex throw sunscreen and sandals into her suitcase? He’s feeling a little like that boyfriend. Their bed is presently covered in a pile of her summer clothes, her pointer finger pressed to her lips as she ponders the fabrics like a complex equation. Feeling that familiar wave of neediness come on, he walks up behind her, wrapping his arms tight around her shoulders to stop her as she throws another pair of shorts into the suitcase.

     “I know you’re going to have blast in Vegas with your girlfriends but you know what else would be super fun?” Shawn rests his chin on the top of her head, trying his best to hide the pouty tone of his voice. “If you stayed home with me instead.” When she initially announced she was planning her best friend’s bachelorette party as a liquor fueled weekend in Las Vegas, he’d thought it was a great idea. Alex had been busting her ass at work over the last few months in addition to putting up with his insane tour schedule for the better part of a year, so a long weekend to blow off steam with her girls was well deserved. It wasn’t until he started listening in on all of her planning that he got a little nervous. The club crawls, the all day pool parties, the front row seats at Magic Mike…and if he’d overheard her conversation with her raunchiest friend, strippers weren’t completely off the table. Regardless, he knew he had nothing to worry about. She was an adult, she had more than earned his trust over their two years together, and it wasn’t like he had any concern she was going to run off on him with a Vegas stripper. More than anything, Shawn selfishly felt like he would be missing out. He wanted to hold her hand in front of the Bellagio fountains, wanted to slather her in sunscreen poolside, wanted to carry her out of the club on his back once she refused to wear her heels. (Because this happened every single time Alex wore heels.)

      “And what benefits are in store for me if I stay home?” She inquired, leaning her head forward to deliver a soft bite to his forearm. Her attention was still mainly focused on her wardrobe choices, but as the queen of multi-tasking, she could manage to entertain his pouting.

     “Well, we could stay in all weekend watching conspiracy theory documentaries. Order your favorite Chinese food…” Dropping his arms from her shoulders, he let his hands settle on her hips, thumbs hooking under the top of her pajama shorts. “Have all the sex.”

     “Mmm…you really know the way to my heart, don’t you?” She places her hands over his, momentarily pushing them teasingly further under the hem of her shorts before pulling them away completely, earning a frustrated groan from him. “Let’s put that plan on hold until next weekend? You know I have to go to Vegas, this is my best friend’s bachelorette we’re talking about. I have to be there to make sure it’s a weekend to remember.”

     Something about that statement makes his brow furrow. “Why don’t I like the sound of that?” Watching as Alex resumes her packing, he flops down on the bed next to her suitcase, giving up on sidetracking her. At least for the time being.

     “Don’t worry, this weekend isn’t about me. I’ll be good. You know that.” Her statement is matter of fact, but as she holds up a pair of bikini bottoms that look more like a thong than swimwear, Shawn doesn’t feel especially at ease.

     “But that whole “no talking to boyfriends” rule? Is that really a thing? You’re really not allowed to talk to me for three days?” This was by far his least favorite part of this Vegas trip. Although those bikini bottoms were giving this rule a run for its money. The concern in his voice is enough to catch her undivided attention, bringing her to stand between his knees where they dangle off the edge of the bed.

     “I know, it sounds dumb but we all made a pact. We’re going to have a true girl’s weekend which means not reporting back to the men at home.” Resting her hands on his thighs, she leans forward to give him a soft consolation kiss. “I’m sure I’ll post plenty to Insta and Snapchat. You’ll have proof that I’m alive.” He won’t challenge her now, but he already knows there’s not a chance in hell she’ll obey this rule. Even with his exhaustive touring, they’d never gone a day in their relationship without speaking to one another. Without at least checking in.

     “What if I came with and just hung out in your hotel room? You wouldn’t even have to tell anyone.” Reaching up to her with grabby hands, he simultaneously locks his legs around hers forcing her to lean all the way forward. With an indignant sigh, she lets herself collapse on top of him, her hair hanging around them like a curtain. “It could be our little secret.” Shawn knows how much she loves an opportunity to sneak around. It could be that she’s simply an exhibitionist, or, more likely, it takes her back to the beginning of their relationship when dodging his fans and the media made their romance something of a team sport.

      “I’m sharing a room with two other girls, I think they’d notice you in my bed.” She momentarily lifts herself up, moving her legs to straddle him more effectively. She may not be giving into his requests, but she’s also not strong enough to deny him attention. No matter how much packing she has yet to do or how early her flight leaves the next morning. “You’ll be fine here on your own. It’s just three days and we’ve spent far longer apart.” Even though he knows she’s right and that he’s being far too dramatic, he still can’t shake the sulking feeling. “You’re just getting a taste of being the one stuck at home.” Her eyebrows raise with her statement, amused by the role reversal. Of course she’s right. He rarely thinks twice about leaving for weeks…months at a time. That’s not to say that it isn’t insanely difficult to be away from her. Obviously if he had his way, she’d travel with him for the entirety of tour. But regardless, it’s a thousand times easier to be away from the one you love when you’re moving at such a fast pace you barely have time to reflect on it. Yes, there were days and nights that the urge to hold her nearly drove him to cancel a show and fly home. Yes, there were days and nights that hearing her muffled voice from across the ocean was enough to rip his heart out. But at the end of the day, there was an entire team of people relying on him to keep his shit together.

     This would be different though, considering there’d be no performance to focus his nervous energy on. Instead, he’d be rambling around the condo on his own, with little else to think about than what she was up to. And not even being able to call her? That would make it infinitely worse. “Fine, leave me here. All alone.” Just because he knows that no amount of pouting is going to convince her to cancel her trip, doesn’t mean he’s not going to give it his best effort. “Have your fun.”

   While she won’t admit it, his plan is almost working. His puppy dog eyes are melting through her and it’s nearly enough for her to fake the flu and call the whole trip off. But considering the bride-to-be has been her best friend since the third grade, there’s really no contest. Shawn will be fine on his own for three days, she knows that. As long as he stays away from the stove. “My mopey boy.” Alex pouts right back at him, leaning in to kiss that look right off of his face. “I’ll be back before you know it.” She punctuates her statement with another kiss, her hands taking their own initiative to roam underneath his shirt. Just as her lips start a trail down his neck, she catches movement out of the corner of her eye. Shawn’s hand has somehow found those bikini bottoms, which he is presently trying to shove under the blankets to hide them away from her. He can deal with her going to Vegas. He can deal with her dancing all night with her friends. He can even deal with her throwing singles at some oiled-up dudes. But he cannot deal with seeing her in that thong of a bikini through his phone screen without any means of taking it off. She catches his wrist in the nick of time, holding it down on the bed as she tries to wrestle the bottoms away from him. Unfortunately, he’s got them in a death grip, his other hand free to tickle her side in the exact spot that makes her unable to function. “Okay, okay, but if you make me forget my swimsuit, I’ll just have to skinny dip.”

              Immediately, he releases the bottoms in defeat, tossing them back towards her suitcase. Fine. If he’s going to be subjected to that evil piece of fabric from a thousand miles away, he’s at least going to make up for the lost opportunity in advance. Without warning, he rolls them over, her back landing on top of a pile of clothes yet to be packed. “You’re the worst, you know that?” Giving her no time to respond with her signature sarcasm, he captures her lips in a hungry kiss. She’ll make it to Vegas, but if he has any say about it? It’ll be on no sleep and smelling of him.

      Day one starts off fairly easy. For starters, Shawn absolutely gets his way and they’ve only been asleep for an hour or two when her alarm goes off at 7:00am. He watches with tired satisfaction as Alex rushes to finish packing, throwing items into her suitcase without consideration. He’s pretty sure that in her haste, his jeans from the night before end up in the mix, but he keeps that to himself. He’s not proud of it, but he takes advantage of her guilt long enough to con her into granting him one last quickie rather than taking a shower. So when she gets out of his car at Toronto Pearson, she’s still flushed and smelling of sex and he feels pretty good about sending her off that way.

      At first, time passes quickly. Mostly because he spends most of the afternoon catching up on sleep. It’s around 5:00pm when the updates start rolling in, beginning with a wholesome group photo that Alex has posted to Instagram. He has a sneaking suspicion that this will be the last photo taken in Vegas where they collectively appear sober and bright eyed. In any case, he’s glad to see a sign of life from her. As the night pushes onward, he’s quickly proven right as he watches several of her friend’s snap stories as they go shot for shot with one another, the sound of their woohoo’ing driving him to turn down the volume on his phone to the lowest setting. Okay, so maybe he’s relieved he didn’t go and hide out in her hotel room. Granted, it’s not like he’s any stranger to the sound of screaming women. Around 11:00pm, he nearly chokes when he comes across a video of Alex taking a shot of tequila with her hands held behind her back, the whole bar cheering her on. At midnight, there’s a photo of her holding back the bride-to-be’s hair with in the backdrop of an opulent marble bathroom. He checks for the last time shortly after 2:00am to see that they made it out to the clubs in one piece, though he takes note that Alex has already taken her heels off. Predictable. With one day under his belt and two to go, he drifts to sleep surprisingly quick considering her fingers aren’t threading through his hair.

     Day 2 becomes a bit harder. Not only is he bored out of his mind, but when there isn’t a single update from Alex or any of her friends by 1:00pm, his stomach starts to churn. He knows these girls, they live for social media and a bachelorette party is prime content. Reminding himself of the time difference, he’s soothed temporarily but it’s not long before he’s refreshing each social media account desperate for updates. Just as he’s about to break the rules and call her, the bride starts posting video after video of the group poolside at a day club. He swipes past all of the photos of obnoxious inflatable pool toys and selfies of the other girls until he finds a video starring Alex. From the cover photo alone, he recognizes the cut off short covered ass belonging to his girlfriend. Honestly, he could pick it out of a lineup with ease. The way there’s just a flash of cheek peeking out from underneath the faded denim, the shorts completely filled out to the point that his breath hitches in his chest. As if he hadn’t kneaded that ass in his palms less than 48 hours before.

      Eagerly, he hits play on the video only to instantly hear the beginning of the Lost in Japan remix. The camera zooms in on Alex as she turns towards her friends, a giant, open mouthed smile plastered on her face. Instantly, she raises her comically large, neon colored drink into the air, hips already swaying suggestively to the song. “That’s my man!!” Her voice is hoarse but full of pride and excitement, and he swears his heart almost can’t take it. Without shame, he replays the video over and over, maybe a dozen times. There’s a matching smile stuck on his face as he hears her shout “that’s my man!” again and again. Alright, so maybe Day 2 isn’t so bad either. At least not until he sees the group photo of the girls hanging all over the dancers from the Magic Mike show. Alex, in particular, is sandwiched between two incredibly buff dudes that would put even Shawn’s physique to shame. The way her hand rests on the tanned abs of one of the guys causes a rush of jealousy to burn upwards through his chest, but all he has to do is rewatch the pool video for the twentieth time and the feeling fades away. “That’s my man!” Do people still use personalized ringtones? Because he’s pretty sure he’d like to hear that sound bite all day, every day. Some would call it odd to be this infatuated with someone this far into a relationship, but every glimpse of her gives him butterflies.

      By Day 3, he swears he’s about to lose his mind. The minutes seem to crawl by and nothing helps pass the time any faster. In typical Shawn fashion, he spends a while juggling. He does an Instagram Live for 20 minutes. He tries to figure out how to make this chicken thing Alex always cooks, but he burns it and turns to cereal instead. He screws around on the guitar for awhile but inspiration never strikes. Finally, he calls in the reserves and invites his buddies over for a boy’s night. He also swears to himself that he’s not going to check in on Alex…because he knows if he does, he’ll end up calling her. Since he has a feeling that she’s expecting him to fail at the three day communication embargo, he’s doing his best to power through this final day without proving her right. Inviting his friends over turns out to be the right call, as his mind finally leaves Vegas and joins the world of X-Box and craft beer. It isn’t until he hears Brian snickering from the corner of the room that Alex is brought back to his thoughts.

     “Dude, Alex’s friend Chelsea is live on Insta right now…I think you might want to see this…” He passes his phone to Shawn, the rest of their friends leaning in to see what all the fuss is about. Sure enough, there’s Alex, on a karaoke stage with the bride-to-be, microphone held sideways in her hand. She’s…rapping? Not just to any song, but the incredibly raunchy Ludacris song “What’s Your Fantasy?”. “She’s getting every. Single. Word. Right.” Brian can barely catch his breath he’s laughing so hard, and Shawn isn’t sure whether he wants to laugh along or rub his temples. Alex would. She’s almost more of a ham than he is, always the person in the room cracking jokes the loudest, always willing to make a fool out of herself to get a laugh. Based on what he can see from the video, the crowd is LOVING it and he almost feels a weird sense of pride? For his girlfriend performing a dirty song? It doesn’t make a lot of sense but this is one of those strange, inappropriate moments where the only thought in his head is I’m going to marry this girl.

                The next morning, he wakes up long before his alarm, energy already coursing through his veins. Boyfriend energy. There’s a notification on his phone, only a few hours old, for a text from Alex. He grabs his phone so fast he nearly fumbles it, trying to swipe into the text message to see what was finally important enough for her to break her silence. It turns out to be a video, just a few seconds long. Clicking on it, he’s treated to the sight of Alex climbing into her hotel bed, hair piled in a top knot and sheets pulled up to her chin. “I love you. I miss you. One more sleep, baby.” She blows a kiss to the camera at the same moment one of her friends shouts at her to shut up. The video cuts off just as she yells a “make me” back, face twisting from puppy love to bitch, try me. Jesus, where did he find this woman?? Just like the pool video, he plays this one several times before texting her back. No more sleeps. See you soon, honey. Travel safe. Love you. He is whipped. Completely. Shamelessly. Happily. Whipped.

                      When he finally sees her coming down the escalator, he has to fight to stifle a laugh. Half of her face is obscured by a massive pair of sunglasses, the hood of her sweatshirt pulled up over her head and tied around her face. A baggy pair of sweatpants he’s never seen before and a sad pair of flip flops complete her outfit. She moves slowly when she steps off the escalator, a slight limp in her walk as she favors one ankle. She doesn’t notice him at first, but the second she does, her shoulders slump even lower.

              “I am…not okay in this particular moment.” Alex wheezes, voice barely above a whisper and clearly lost from all of the drinking, screaming, and rapping she’d been doing in Sin City. Leaning directly into him, it’s clear that she’s wiped out and wrecked from her three-day bender.

              “What? My girl can’t rally like she used to?” Shawn readily accepts her into his arms, relieved to be able to feel her again. And also, maybe, a little relieved that she made it home in one piece.

              “The problem is that I did rally. For 72 hours. Now I never want to see vodka again. Or tequila. Or champagne.”  She pauses for a beat, head still pressed into his shirt. “Whiskey is still okay though.”

              This time, he allows himself to laugh at her expense but pulls her in tighter all the same. “Well as long as you’re not claiming to swear off all alcohol. That I wouldn’t believe.” She whimpers into his chest, understandably unable to match his energy. “Come on baby, let’s get you home before you drop.”

      By the time he gets her into the apartment, he realizes that she might still be a little bit drunk. Trying in vain to convince her to lay down on the couch, she attaches herself to him once more, arms slung around his neck, doing her best to climb him like a koala. “I missed you. Every second. I should have let you come along.” While he’s touched to hear this admission from her, he really is happy that she got to spend the weekend on her own, letting loose with her friends in her element. There will be plenty of other vacation opportunities for the two of them, a few that he may or may not have started researching when he was climbing the walls on Day 3.

              “I don’t know, it looks like you had a great time. Especially at Magic Mike,” He leans back far enough from her so she can spot his raised eyebrow. “You seemed pretty damn enthusiastic for that, by the way…”

      An incredulous squeak escapes her, face turned up to look at his. “I was only hyping it for the bride! Why would I be horned up for those meatsuits when I come home to this?” Her hands settle on his cheeks, giving his face a soft squeeze. “And this…” Her statement is punctuated by her pelvis grinding into his.

              His hands instantly catch her hips, stilling her before she can go any further. “I’ve had three days of blue balls watching your stories. Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

              There’s an actual look of shock on her face, considering she’s not used to being turned down. “Who says I can’t finish?” There’s a determination on her face that makes him second guess himself. But upon giving her a once over, he pauses long enough to think of the most delicate way to let her down.

      “For starters, while you look like the most beautiful train wreck, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you this tired.” He bites his lip, hoping that critique won’t upset her. But she seems to willingly accept it, blowing the loose hair out of her face and rubbing her tired eyes. “You need a shower and a nap. As much as I want to make up for lost time.” There’s a mixture of disappointment and gratitude on her face, which he answers by patting her butt towards the bathroom. “Go shower. I’ll nap with you after.”

              As she showers, he gets busy making her a cup of tea with a copious amount of honey to sooth her throat. Being the king of using YouTube to teach himself new skills, he watches a few videos about wrapping sprained ankles until he feels confident. By the time she’s finished, he’s ready and waiting to fix her up. She complies with his orders, relaxing into their headboard, cup of tea balanced on her chest while his hands gently affix the wrap around her injured ankle. Fingers ghosting over her skin once he’s satisfied with his work, he grabs a pillow to rest underneath her foot. “I’m glad you had fun. But. I’m calling it now, no Vegas for your bachelorette party.” He chuckles, crawling up the bed to join her. “I hear Calgary is a great bachelorette destination. Maybe Winnipeg.”

              Swallowing the last of her tea, she discards the mug on the nightstand and rolls to pull herself into him. “You know, there’s this key thing that needs to happen before it’s my turn for a bachelorette party.” It’s a lighthearted statement which she follows with a soft kiss to prove as such. She’s never been the type to put any pressure on their relationship nor has she ever been preoccupied with any timelines. As evidenced that weekend, Alex was more of a “live for the moment” type of person. That was one of the many things he appreciated about her, considering so much of his life had to be tightly planned. With her, there was never any pressure.

              “Just putting it out there. You might want to give it some thought.” He flashes her a knowing grin, bringing his face to hers for just one more kiss. There isn’t a single doubt in his mind that this is the woman for him. And sooner than later, much sooner, he’s going to make sure the whole world knows it. “Now go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up and you can tell me all about Vegas.” She settles into him once more, head on his chest and ear over his heart. “And we can talk about your karaoke performance…it’s given me…some ideas…” The last sound he hears before her breathing turns deep is an embarrassed laugh and a murmured I love you.

     Yep, he’s definitely going to marry this girl.

tagging @fourtristattoos for boyfriend!week 

[shawnpetermuffins]

Misery Business (decode 2)

A/n: and the much requested part 2. Part 1 is in my masterlist under my song based fics. This will be the final part.

Summary: Shawn's finally starting to realize what this relationship has done to him.

Warnings: angst, swearing, the usual

Word count: 2.2k

***

I should be happy. My career has never been better, my singles are doing pretty great on the charts, I'm in the top 5 most listened to artists on spotify, and I'm getting loads of publicity hanging with Camila. And don't get me wrong, she's beautiful, hourglass figure that every guy wants, I guess. There's just something wrong and it's this, she's not y/n. I thought our relationship would withstand anything my career threw at us, I really did. But I should have known that she wasn't okay with this. I knew that there was always some kind of underlying territorial battle between her and the girl that's currently holding my arm while we walk down the street, but I ignored it for the sake of a few extra views on a music video, for a few extra streams.

This publicity thing has taken y/n away from me and no one seems to notice, or care, because the songs are doing so good. Since she walked away that night no one has talked about it. No one asked what was the final straw, it was just never brought up. And all that's going around Twitter and Instagram are these God awful, staged photos of me and Camila acting like we're so in love when in reality I am heartbroken and on the verge of a nervous breakdown in most of them. 

"They're looking," she says into my arm. "Kiss me now." She's been telling me to do that a lot more often recently and I'm starting to feel just how wrong it is for us to be doing this. She knows about the breakup, but it seems like she couldn't care less. She parades me around town and follows me on tour, adding a little too much tension between me, Brian and Connor who have barely spoken to me since y/n left. It's clear that they weren't on my side in this situation, but that didn't matter to Camila. She was eating the attention up. She loved knowing that people were talking and that they were talking about her, it apparently didn't matter in what context. 

"Andrew," I grab my manager's attention one night before he goes into his hotel room.

"Yeah, bud?"

I clear my throat, glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one was still out wandering the hall, listening. I lower my voice anyway, "How much longer do Camila and I have to keep up this PR game? The fans are starting to notice it's fake."

"We have to keep it up at least until the stadium show."

"What? What happened to it ending after the VMAs?" 

He shrugs, "Sorry. We need to sell more."

"The stadium's already sold out, what do you mean we need to sell more?!"

"Shawn, you said you were okay with this. What's going on?"

I lost the best thing that's ever happened to me because of this stupid game. That's what's going on. But I just sigh, "Nothing. Nothing, guess I'm just worried. I don't want the fans to lose interest. I can't keep ignoring the question."

"Well you can't talk about it. We're under contract. Now it'll be over before you know it. So for now, just enjoy it. Enjoy the publicity. You need it. Gets people excited for new music."

You know what else gets people excited for new music? Promotion.

---

I'm scrolling through Instagram, seeing all the photos fan accounts are posting of me and Camila, becoming more and more emotionally drained with each passing second. But then I see something that catches my eye. It's a photo of me and y/n, one of the only photos she allowed me to post of us. Except it's split right down the middle. I hurriedly look at the caption.

Fanaccount Is no one going to talk about the fact that we don't know how, why, or WHEN y/n and Shawn broke up??? Did we all just forget that they were together for 2 years?? What happened to our girl? 

Then I start reading the comments, which I shouldn't do, but I can't stop myself.

Fanaccount2 Idk if it's true but someone said she was still on tour with him up until like 2 weeks ago…

Fanaccount2 Do y'all think Camila had something to do with it?

She had everything to do with it.

fanaccount3 Who cares? He's with Camila and she's better.

Fucking liar. 

fanaccount4 I know we don't know what happened, but if it's because of C that's fucked up. Y/n deserves better. Shitty PR to sell a song that's already been at #1 for weeks?? If he lost her to this I feel bad for him. 

     Fanaccount5 But what about her? She had to watch all this go down? It was a really dick move for him to even think it was okay to do this.

   fanaccount6 Okay but look how happy he is with Camila. He clearly doesn't feel bad, so why do you???

Fanaccount4 THEY WERE TOGETHER FOR 2 YEARS! and now he's sucking face with his "best friend" come on. That's shitty and you know it.

I don't even realize that I'm crying until I can hardly catch my breath. I'm panicking. I haven't had to deal with a panic attack alone since y/n came around, but this is the third one I've talked myself out of since she left, and I've had to go back on my medication. I never realized that she was the main thing helping me through.

My phone buzzes with a notification - a message from Andrew. 

It's a screenshot of my spotify account and it reads: #2 baby!!

I want to hurl - my phone or the contents of my stomach, I'm not sure. Maybe both. But I guess, we've got the fans where we want them. 

But like we always do, in true Hollywood bragging, we post the screenshot to our Instagram stories. And Andrew to his feed and twitter. It's all working so well. They're buying it - the relationship, the song, everything. But when I look at my follower count and see I'm down at least 100,000… maybe not everyone is buying it.

---

We're in her hometown and every part of me wants to go see her, wants to make sure she's okay. Because I have the day off and it would be so easy to just drive out to her and make things right. But Camila won't leave my side and I'm going insane.

"Shawn, pay attention to me!"

And I snap. "What do you think I've been doing these past two months, Camila?! I've been paying attention! Jesus, fuck, give me just two minutes of alone time."

"Whoa! What's up your ass?" She crosses her arms over her chest.

"You!" I scoff, throwing my hands up.

"You've been moody all week. Do you want to talk?"

"Not to you," I mumble, but she hears me.

"You're serious? This is about y/n? It's been a month, Shawn. It's time to move on."

"Move on? How am I supposed to move on when she was the literal best thing to happen to me? When I lost her because of this stupid PR move that is in no way helping me anymore, Miss number two!"

"Now I don't deserve to be number two? Really?"

I don't say anything else, I just take my phone and wallet from the coffee table and leave without another word. I don't know where I'm going until I'm there at her doorstep, breathing heavily and running my clammy hands through my already ruffled hair. Before I can talk myself out of it, I knock on the door and wait, my hands in my pocket.

"Can you get that?" I hear her say to someone inside, but I'm not expecting it to be my own best friend.

"Brian?" I say, confused.

"What are you-?"

"Bri, did you? Shawn?"

"Connor?"

"Guys, who's at the…" she stops cold in her tracks when she sees me.

"Y/n," I sigh. I can't read her face. She could be any number of things, but shocked is probably the most accurate.

"Babes, can y'all give us a second?" Her arms cross defensively over her chest while the guys retreat to the kitchen. When she walks further into the living room, I let myself in, closing the door behind me. "What the hell are you doing here, Shawn?" 

"I miss you," I say desperately. "I - I know I fucked up. Severely fucked up. I put my career ahead of you and I said I'd never do that. The numbers became more important and it shouldn't have been that way. I'm so sorry. Just… please give me a second chance. Let me prove to you that you're first. Always."

"A second chance isn't going to do anything for you, Shawn."

"How do you-?"

"Because you're still pretending with her! If you're even pretending at this point! I can't be with you like this because if the numbers were all that mattered two months ago, who's to say they're still not going to matter three years from now? Your entire career revolves around them and I'm not going to be your number two. That isn't what I signed myself up for. Not to mention my Twitter mentions right now are your fans calling me a whore for standing in the way of 'Shawmila's true love!'"

I flinch, "I'll fix it."

"You can't!" She screams and I see the guys slowly make their way into the room. "Jesus, don't you get it? It doesn't matter what you think you can fix because I can't forgive you! I'm done. I'm over it. I don't want this!" She gestures between our bodies. "You don't want me, you want the familiarity. Well, why don't you teach her how to calm down your anxiety attacks. And tell her how you like your eggs in the morning, and how you'll only get out of bed after at least ten minutes of silent cuddling.

"And you go around town acting so fucking innocent, which no one believes, by the way. Teach her how to be your girlfriend, and how to do it right because clearly I wasn't doing it right," her voice cracks at the last part of her sentence and it breaks me in half. When the first year falls, I want nothing more than to take her in my arms, but I hold back, knowing damn well she doesn't want me near her.

"Y/n, it's not the same without you. The concerts aren't as fun, the days between drag on forever. I thought that being seen out would make the numbers rise, and yeah it has, but I'm losing more than im getting."

"That's not my fault. You did that." She wraps her arms around her, holding herself together. Just like I've always known her to. I notice that the tears aren't falling anymore either. She stopped then just as quickly as they started. 

"This isn't how I thought we would turn out."

She bites the inside of her cheek, her clear sign that she's distraught.  "You know, it's funny. It took me so long to realize that I was watching your dreams come true. Selling out arenas and winning awards and putting out awesome music. I watched all of those dreams come true. Not once did you say I was a reason for it. You always avoided the questions about if the songs were about me. I was - I was never part of your dream, Shawn. And I put mine on hold to watch you live yours. It's my turn," she looks at me with some type of fire in her eyes. "Its time for me to go for my dreams and watch them come true. I thought it was you. You were my dream for so long, but that's just not it anymore."

I suck in a shuddery breath, "no. Y/n, baby. Please."

"You need to go."

"Y/n," I reach out for her but I'm stopped quickly by my best friend.

"She told you to go, Shawn."

"I'm not leaving until we fix this."

"Just let it go, man. She doesn't want you anymore." Connor says from his same spot, only this time with y/n in his arms, her head buried deep in his chest. Seeing her in the arms of another makes me crazy and I lunge for him, but Brian pushes me back again. 

"You need to go. I'm not saying it again," he's practically dragging me out the house.

I point an angry finger at Connor, "You're fired."

"That's fine," he says. "Good luck with the rest of the tour." He shoots me a glare and then his attention is back to my sad ex-girlfriend. And I'm out the door before I realize it.

"What am I supposed to do?" I ask aloud because I feel Brian standing behind me, making sure I don't get any ideas to go back inside.

"Sounds to me like you need to reevaluate your priorities. You chose this career, and up until recently you were able to balance love and music. Find that again. Now go back to the hotel. I'll see you for soundcheck tomorrow." The door closes once again. But this time it's closing on everything that was and everything that could've been. I know I'm not getting her back. I chose the music business,  but now it's the misery business and there's no way to get out of it.

***

Tags: @curlyshawny @anamariel2301 @shawns-badreputation @bbellbagel @turtoix @ivegotparticulartaste @tomshufflepuff @dino-16-avocado @sleepybesson @lifeoftheparty74 @shawnssongs @luvluvxx

I hope you enjoyed it. I'm sorry for the angst. Like, reblog, and leave feedback!! 💙💙

[shawnpetermuffins]

could you write something about y/n coming back drunk from her bachelorette party and shawn takes care of her? love your writing!

A/n: Hi, sorry it took so long for me to get to this one, but I didn't want it to be just a short little blurb! Also thank you so much! 😊💙

Word count: 1.3k

***

"Where are you going?" Brian asked from the couch. He's staying with y/n and me until the wedding next week. "It's late."

I nod, grabbing my keys from by the door. "I know. But Sam called, she said y/n's drunk out of her mind. I'm gonna go pick her up."

"Hold on," he shot up from the couch and ran to the bathroom, coming back with a small trash can. "You might need this. I'll go with. Drive you back so you can take care of her." 

I clap him on the back with a grateful smile. "Thanks man."

When we pull up outside the bar, Sam is struggling to keep y/n upright. The plastic crown on my girl's head is falling off and her bright pink sash is around her legs. If I wasn't so worried, I'd laugh. It's rare for her to get shit-faced drunk, but I don't know what I expected from tonight. When Sam told me she had a full night planned, I should have known it would end only one way, with y/n and a massive hangover. 

"She okay?" I ask when I rush around the jeep to the sidewalk.

"She's fine. A little… whoa there, girl," she bends, trying to keep y/n standing. I help, holding her arms. "A little wobbly," she laughs.

Y/n finally looks up and her eyes sparkle when she sees me. "Shawny!!"

I smile softly, "Hi, honey." I push her crown back in her head. "How much did you have to drink tonight, huh?"

"Hmmm…" she brings her hand close to her face, counting on her fingers. "Four!"

I look to Sam for confirmation, but she shakes her head. "Four shots. Three Moscow mules." My eyes widen as I shake my head.

"Oh, Jesus baby. You are going to be so sick in the morning."

"I don'twanna be," she hiccups, which is already a clear sign of what Brian and I are about to deal with in the car. "Sick."

"I know you don't," I bring her buzzed head to my chest and just hold her there while I talk to Sam. "Do you need a ride home?"

"No, I'm good. I got an uber. A couple of the girls are still inside, so I'll just leave when they do. But take her home," she nods. "Get her hydrated."

I pull her into a hug and kiss the top of her forehead, "I will. Thanks for calling me."

"Of course. Have her text me in the morning, so I know she's good. And uh, be safe driving back."

---

Being drunk in the car is one of the worst feelings in the work, but what's even worse is watching your fiancé be drunk in the car. I have her spread out on the back seat, her head in my lap because I know sitting up is a struggle for her right now.

She's going in and out of consciousness. One second she moaning and groaning about how horrible a driver Brian is, which is true, and the next she's giggling at nothing. She's not one of those fun drunks, at least not when she's had as much as she did. If she had stopped at the four shots, she would be a hassle to get anywhere. She'd be running around and yelling and overly touchy with just about everyone she comes in contact with. Which if you ask me, is probably worse than this. I'd be lying if I said I didn't have to fight a guy or two who were trying to get with her after she's had a few shots. 

"Shawny," she grumbles and I pat her head softly. 

"What's wrong, love?"

"I'm gonna… gonnabesick." She sat up and I'm quick to grab the trash can that Brian so wonderfully insisted we bring. 

I sigh, keeping her hair from her face with one hand and rubbing her back with the other. "Brian, can you reach into the console? I have some napkins just thrown in there."

"Eh," he focuses mainly on the deserted road, but manages to successfully grab a couple and hand them to me.

"Thanks. Look at me, love." She does so begrudgingly. I wipe at the corners of her mouth and toss the paper into the bin. "There. You're as beautiful as ever."

---

Brian helps me haul her into the condo, but he can't help but laugh each time she almost stumbles completely forward. And I hate to admit it, but it is pretty funny because she lets out a tiny 'oop' every time. We somehow manage to get her into our room where she lays back on the bed, arms and legs sprawled out. "Thanks," I clap Brian's shoulder. "I got her from here."

He nods. "Let me know if I can't do something, okay?"

"Yeah, I will."

He closes the door behind him and I look down at my now slightly sober fiancé. "Hey, love. Don't go to sleep yet," I say quietly, pulling her into a sitting position. "We have to take your makeup off, get you into some comfy clothes."

She only groans as I bring her with me to our bathroom. I sit her on the counter, and hold her waist as I bend down to get her makeup wipes from under the sink. 

"You wearing lashes?" I shake one of the wipes from the loud packaging. She nods and I sigh. Taking her lashes off freaks me out, I always think I'm gonna pull out her real ones. But she doesn't even flinch when they come off with a soft tug. Then I work gently at her face, wiping away the makeup that I loved watching her put on, but loved watching her take off even more. "Did you have fun tonight?"

"The music was loud," she pouts. "The drinks were good."

I chuckle, "Yeah? I think I heard something about that." I'm reaching for her other makeup remover that I see her use all the time and a cotton pad. "Okay baby. Let's wash and brush and then we can get you to bed." 

She nods and I help ease her off the counter so she can brush her teeth. While she does that, I split her straightened hair into sections and give her a couple messy braids, so her hair isn't in her face when she sleeps. 

"Can I take this dress off you?" I ask, pressing a kiss to her exposed shoulder.

"Mmhmm…" she hums around her toothbrush. 

I carefully unzip the form fitting dress and let the sleeves slip down her arms. 

"Gonna get you a shirt. Stay right here." I shuffle into our room and pull one of my shirts out of the top drawer, it's her favorite one. The white, torn, heaven shirt encompasses all that she is and I'm more than willing to let her wear it for the rest of our lives. She stands in front of the mirror in just her underwear, face bare of makeup, teeth freshly brushed. If she hadn't had so much to drink, I wouldn't even think twice about taking her right here in the bathroom. But her eyes are droopy and tired and I know she just wants to sleep. I kiss her bare skin before slipping the shirt over her head. "Let's get you in bed," I whisper against her hairline, pressing another kiss there. 

She takes my hand and follows me back to our overly large bed. "Stay right here," I mumble. "I'm gonna get you some medicine and a glass of water." When I come back to the room, she's only barely awake. I feel bad, shaking her a little to look at me. "Here, take these. Drink this." I hand her the pills and the cold glass. She takes them both gratefully. 

"Cuddles?" She says, making grabby hands at me.

"Course we can cuddle, honey."

***

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Tags: @curlyshawny @anamariel2301 @shawns-badreputation @bbellbagel @turtoix @ivegotparticulartaste @tomshufflepuff @dino-16-avocado @sleepybesson @lifeoftheparty74

[shawnpetermuffins]

I Fell (Werewolf!Shawn)

A/n: this is the first, and probably the last werewolf!Shawn I’ll ever write. I don’t know enough about them for this to be good, or for you guys to want another one lol. (My werewolf knowledge starts and ends with what was in the Twilight movies.) ALSO THIS THE USUAL SUNDAY POST! (not to be confused with my other blurbs that I am currently failing to write because I'm dumb, wow.)

Requested: yes, but I lost the ask, so I don’t remember who it was for. I’m sorry to whoever requested it!

It's more of a protective!Shawn now... I'll be real. So so sorry!

Warnings: really bad writing, fluff,

Word Count: 726 (another short one I'm sorry!!)

***

"What do you mean she's hurt? I told you to watch after her while I was hunting!" Shawn barges into the house and most of the pack cowers away. No one likes being around him when he's angry - of all the guys in the pack, he's the worst when mad. But if you saw him in any other situation, you wouldn't think he had an angry bone in his body. That's what scares them, I've come to realize. (Because when we first started dating, that's what scared me too.)

"Baby, are you okay? What happened? Who did this? I'll kill them."

I shush him, scratching behind his ear. He nuzzles into my side, letting out a low whimper. My little pup, so soft for me. "Nothing happened. I fell off the chair when I was trying to hang something. It's just a sprained ankle. No one did anything."

"That's the problem," he growls. "They're supposed to be watching you, paying attention while I'm out."

"I'm not six, Shawn. I can take care of myself."

"Yes, but."

"Are you really about to argue with me right now? Because I would think long and hard about that decision."

His eyes roll and I swat the back of his head. "Don't test me, Mendes."

Brian barks out a laugh from the door and the look in Shawn's eye tells me just what he's thinking. "Don't you dare. I will leave."

That gets his attention. "Like hell you will! I'll tie you to this bed before I let you leave."

"What? Like you haven't done that before?" Matt jokes, causing Shawn to blush, and to mess with him a little more, I add fuel to the fire.

"I can assure you, I'm not the one that's been tied up." Shawn looks ready to pounce on me, but he would never. He just grunts and turns away from me. 

"Lucky you're my mate," he mumbles just low enough for me to hear. But he seems to forget that he's in a house of wolves because they hear it too.

"And what would you do if she wasn't, Shawny boy? You can't take her."

"I can too!" He argues.

"Actually honey, you can't." I thread my fingers through his fluffy hair and he looks up at me with those puppy dog eyes. 

"You're embarrassing me."

"it's the only thing bringing me joy in this painful time."

"Does it hurt really bad?" He's back to fussing over me and my unwanted injury.

"I hum, "a little bit. It's hard to get comfortable."

"Can you move it?"

"Yeah, but I can't put pressure on it. Like I can't stand on it."

Shawn purrs and kisses my kneecap. "Does it hurt when I do this?" He presses two fingers into my swollen ankle and I scream in pain. "Alright, that's it. I'm taking you to the hospital."

"No, Shawn. It'll go away in a few days. I'll be fine."

"You don't heal like I do, babe. It's going to take more than just a few days on bedrest to make this better."

"But-"

He growls slowly at me again and I raise my eyebrows. 

"You're getting real brave to be doing that around me, you know that?"

His eyes soften and he kisses my wrist which is still in his hair. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I know. I just want to make sure you're okay." I wasn't here to protect you, is what he wants to say, but decides against it, knowing she'll hit him for putting this on himself when he couldn't have controlled it anyway. "Just please let me take you to the doctor? Want to know that everything is fine."

I sigh, knowing I can't deny him any longer because not knowing for sure I'm okay is driving him insane. "Okay, bub. Let's go."

He lets out a deep breath and rushes to pick me up. I yelp when he crushes me against his chest. We're almost out the door when I gasp. "What? What is it? Are you okay? Do you need something? What can I do?"

"We forgot my shoes," I whine and he just chuckles, shaking his head.

"Brian can you bring me y/n's sandals?" He calls out and I press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. "I love you, pup."

"I love you too, honey."

***

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[shawnpetermuffins]

Convenient Girlfriend

Summary: You're not sure if you are still important to Shawn, and you've been putting off this fight for long enough.

A/n: this is probably my favorite thing I've written thus far, honestly.

Requested: no

Warning: angst, so much angst

Word count: 1,535

***

Neither of us have said a word since dinner with Matt and Brian. Actually, neither of us have said a word to each other since before dinner. He talked to his friends the whole time and I interjected only when spoken to. I wasn't in the mood for a long night out, and knowing them, they'd want to go get drinks after, and I was in the unfortunate situation of coming with Shawn - meaning I had no way to leave without him. Calling an uber would, for one, be rude. And two, prove to the guys that something wasn't right with me and Shawn. Not that they needed to know that. Not that Shawn even knew that, so it seems.

"So, are you gonna tell me what I did or are we just gonna ignore it until you get over it?" He asked after setting his keys on the table by the door.

I scoffed, no longer in the mood to hide my obvious irritation.

"Not talking? Okay, I'll talk. Whatever I did, I'm sorry. It'd be nice to know what it was, though, seeing as I've barely said a word all day."

"That," I said facing him. "That is the problem. You haven't said fucking anything to me all day - Sorry, all week."

He shrugged, "there hasn't been much to say. Nothing's happened."

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, "everything's happened," I mumbled. "You've just chosen not to see it."

"See what, y/n? What am I not seeing?" He threw his hands up in frustration.

“I’m only your girlfriend when it’s convenient for you, Shawn!"

"What that supposed to mean?" He crossed his arms defensively.

"A fan’s getting a little too close to you, ‘hey, you know I have a girlfriend, right?’ The boys want to go out, but you don’t? ‘Can’t tonight, the girlfriend wants me home.’ Do you know how that makes me look to your friends when you say that shit? Not to mention, you say it and you don’t even spend time with me. You lock yourself in your studio and don’t come out for hours on end.”

“That’s not-”

“True? Fair? No, of course it’s not. But frankly, neither is our relationship.”

He flinched like I’d just hit him. “What are you saying?”

“That I’m done being your excuse.”

“My excuse? Is that really what you think you are to me?”

“We don’t spend any time together! None! I’m literally just living in your condo hoping that I might get to see you at least once a week while you’re here.”

“Y/n, you’re not my excuse.” He tried reaching for my hands.

“My name only comes up when you’re trying to get out of something. And don’t think that I’m the only one who’s noticed.”

“What are you talking about?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I had lunch with Aaliyah and your mom today.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried. I even tried inviting you. But apparently you become deaf the second I open my mouth.”  I arched an eyebrow at him. “Your sister asked me if we were still together. Said she hasn’t seen many pictures of us in a while.”

“That’s a stupid thing to ask.”

“I didn’t think so,” I shrugged. “Actually I thought it was pretty reasonable. And then I realized that I didn’t really have an answer for her.”

“You didn’t answer? You’re supposed to say ‘yes.’”

“Was I?”

“Yes!”

I scoffed, “Okay.”

He groaned and rubbed the side of his neck, “What did mum say?”

“That she misses seeing me around. Apparently she wanted to ask me to lunch directly because every time she invites you first, I’m busy.”

“You’re always busy,” he defended.

“I’m never busy! I’m especially not too busy to hang out with your family, who I love! Who have literally taken me in as their own!”

“Well I’m sorry! Next time I’ll make sure to bring you along. Get you and my parents off my back,” he mumbled the second part.

“See? That right there! You’re bringing me because you’ll get something out of it! I’m supposed to be your girlfriend, Shawn! Not someone that you hit up every once in a while because you’re lonely. We’ve been together four years! But… I don’t think I want to be your girlfriend anymore if this is what our relationship is going to look like.”

“Fine! You don't want to be my girlfriend? Then marry me!”

I stood there, just staring at him in complete shock. “What did you just say to me?”

“You're tired of being my girlfriend. So be my wife instead.”

I don't know entirely why I did it, but I shook my head. “No.”

“No?”

“No,” I confirmed, and now I know why. “You don't want to marry me, Shawn. You just want to find a solution to an unsolvable problem.”

“What? You think we can't fix this? It's one fight, y/n!”

“Today! We've fought more in the last three months that you've been home than in the four years we've been together! You're not asking me to marry you because you want me to. You're asking because you think it'll shut me up. You think this is what I want and it's not.”

“Then what the fuck do you want?! What can I do to make you happy?!” He threw his hands around like a madman, and there was no easy way for me to say this to him.

But I've been hurting here in this house for years. I'm not even second best for him. I never have been. But I’m always here when he needs someone. I've dealt with his fame and the media trying to twist our relationship every which way. I've dealt with his fans - most of them sweet and caring, never intrusive, but others that hated the idea of someone that wasn't them dating their idol. I've been to every award show he's asked me to go to because he needed someone next to him, to help show him off. I was there for his concerts when I was able to take off work. I've been there for him through everything.

And he's missed everything. He wasn't there when I graduated college because of a last minute studio session. He wasn't there to wish me luck when I started working at my dream job. Or when my anxiety got so bad that I couldn't get out of bed for two whole days. He's always been my number one priority, and it just sucks that it's taken me four years to realize that I was never his. “I want to break up.”

"No," he said definitively. "No, you don't. You can't."

"Shawn, don't make this harder than it has to be."

"I Will! I will make this hard! You're throwing four years of our lives away like it's nothing."

"You think that's what I'm doing? You think I wanted this to happen?” I ran my hands through my hair. “Of course I didn't! But you're not making this easy, bub! You're always gone! You never talk to me, whether you're here or not. I can't remember the last time we had a meal together, or the last time I woke up with you still beside me, or went to bed wrapped in your arms. I'm not the one throwing us away, Shawn. You are. You did the second you stopped telling me not to wait up for you."

He's crying - sobbing - And I want to take him in my arms and cuddle him and tell him that it'll all be okay. But he's not mine anymore, so I turn to our bedroom and start packing my things.

He came in twenty minutes later and practically growled at the sight in front of him. "No," he mumbled and shook his head.

"What?" I asked, forcefully throwing another two pairs of jeans into my suitcase.

"No," he exclaimed, causing me to flinch and then he was next to me, pulling my clothes out of my bag, throwing it aimlessly across the room.

"Shawn! Stop it!" I tried to take my stuff and put it back, but he caught my wrists.

"You're not leaving," he told me, eyes red and filled with fire, but so so tired. "We're going to fix this. Make it all better. I'm going to pay more attention and I'm gonna take you out. I will make this better. Because I am in love with you, y/n. I love you. I love you. I love you."

I hung my head, not wanting to stare at his hurt eyes any longer.

"Say it back," he begged, but I stayed silent. "Baby…" his voice cracked. "Tell me you still love me."

I took in a shuddery breath, my shoulders shaking with my unsettling, choked sobs.

"Please…" he's on his knees now, trying to catch my gaze, but I shut my eyes tight, my tears still streaming steadily.

"Of course I do," I managed to whisper and open my eyes. They met his, and I catch the tiniest amount of hope in them. "But I can't do this anymore."

And just like that, it's gone.

***

Tags: @curlyshawny @shawns-badreputation @anamariel2301

It tore me apart writing this, but I love how it turned out. I hope you guys enjoyed! 💙

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[shawnpetermuffins]

Pictured with You (Epilouge)

A/n: we have come to an end to this story of mine. Thank you for sticking around for so long.

Summary: It's been a year, and you're looking for something to do on this week long vacation.

Warnings: fluff

Word count: 1.9k

***

One year later

We wanted a week away from the craziness. Just one week for ourselves and our friends to hang out and not care about having to work - me on the finishing touches of the new album, which I'm actually stressing about right now because y/n still knows next to nothing about it. And that's stupid of me because literally every song is about her and if she tells me she doesn't want that then I'm screwed because I have nothing else to give the label.

She's kicking her feet softly from the edge of the pool, looking nothing less than breathtaking as the blinding sun hits her body just right. I swim away from my friends and to my rightful spot between her legs. Y/n looks down at me when I press a gentle kiss to the tops of her thighs. "Whatcha thinking about, love?"

She hums, running a lazy finger down the column of my neck. "Nothing. Just like watching you have fun, is all."

"It'd be more fun if you got in with me."

"I think you have attachment issues, Mendes."

"Yeah?" I bite playfully at her knee and she laughs, trying to push my head away. "Might have a point there… but I'm not gonna fix that."

"Gonna cling to me more?" She teases as my hands snake around her body, resting softly on the curve of her butt.

"Mmm…" I mumble against her neck. "Never gonna stop clinging to you. Gonna hold you like this forever and ever."

"Don't threaten me with a good time."

"Get in with me," I beg, jutting out my bottom lip as her hands lace through my wet curls. "I'll carry you." That gets her attention.

"Okay," she nods. "Well get me in, rockstar." I smile up at her and swiftly, but carefully bring her down into the pool with me. She shudders at the feel of the cool water against her warm skin. "Fucking hell, it's cold!" Her teeth chatter as she rests her head on my shoulder, arms wrapping tightly around my neck to steal my body heat. We stay like for minute, allowing her to get used to the unfamiliar temperature. "We're good," she mumbles and I slowly move us over to our friends who are goofing around, splashing each other.

"Oh good, she came to join us!" Brian exclaims. Before I know it, y/n is tugged from my arms and being spun around until she's finally thrown into the pool, completely submerged in the chlorine filled water. "There," Brian says triumphantly, with a laugh. "Now you're on our level."

She pushes her baby hairs out of her face with a shake of her head and an exaggerated eye roll, "so thoughtful, Bri. Thanks for that." She splash him once before taking my outstretched hand.

"Sorry, honey," I mumble into her hair, pressing her back to my front. "He caught me off guard."

"S'okay." Her head rests against my chest as we watch them make fools of themselves, not a care in the world. I whisper the words of the song playing into her ear and she falls deeper into me, wrapping my arms tighter around her waist.

"Y/n/n?" I say after a while of comfortable silence drifting between us.

"Shawny," she scrunches up her nose, hating the cutesy nickname, but she can't help that it comes out when she's a little tipsy. I love it though, and kiss the tip of her nose.

"Move in with me," I request, my head buried in her neck.

"What?" She giggles, turning in my arms.

"Move in with me," I say again.

"Where's this coming from?" She wraps her arms around my neck once again.

I shrug, "I mean, you've been going over there a lot more often recently. And… I have a drawer full of your clothes already."

She hums, "well I think I'd need more than just a drawer if we decided to do this."

"I'll get you your own damn closet if you want."

"You'd have to move houses if you did that."

"Then let's look for one. We can find one with a closet just for you, and we can make you your own dark room."

"Whoa there, big spender. That's a big commitment. You sure you can handle all that?"

I nod, "Yes. Hell, I'm ready to marry you right now if you say yes."

She looks up at me with a smirk. "you asking me something, Mendes?"

"Depends on what your answer is," I counter. "What do you say, honey? Will you marry me?"

"I think… my answer is… yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes," she nods, a big smile on her face.

I laugh, pressing my forehead against hers before kissing her deeply. "Oh god, baby. I love you."

"I love you too."

"Let's do it tonight," I plead, my eyes closed.

"Tonight?"

"Yeah. Let's fly out to Vegas and just get married."

"You really want to? I don't even have a dress."

"We'll get you something there. Come on, y/n. Say yes?"

"You," she pokes my chest with her pointer finger, "are completely insane."

I shake my head, "is that your way of saying you'll do it?"

"Well duh," she rolls her eyes as if it was the most obvious thing that we were gonna do this.

"Yo, what is with you two? Do you ever let go of each other?" Connor asks, splashing us.

I hold y/n's head against my chest before I ask. "You guys down for a quick road trip?"

"Where?" Brian asks, shaking out his wet hair.

"Vegas," I say with a cheeky grin.

"What's that look? What are you planning?" Connor questions.

"Y'all feel like being witnesses to a wedding?" Y/n asks, sparing only the smallest of glances to our friends. They're in complete shock. But it only takes a second before they're jumping on top of us, screaming out congratulations.

"Shit, let's go! We hit the road now, we can be there just after sunset." Brian is already pulling himself out of the water.

---

"Nervous?" Brian claps my shoulder while I fix the collar of my shirt.

I chuckle, "dude, my heart feels like it's about to burst out of my chest. I've never been more nervous in my entire life."

"Well what's that thing you always say? Nerves mean you care?"

"Yeah," I nod. "But, god, man. I'm getting married. Did you ever think that was gonna happen? Like this, no less?"

"Hey," he holds the sides of my face and slaps my cheeks. "Don't stress about it. The love of your life is just on the other side of that door. You're just minutes away from your forever. This is going to be the best day of your life."

I swallow the lump forming in my throat, "Yeah. You're right. It's y/n." I can't help but laugh. Because I say it like I'm not still a nervous wreck every time she looks at me. Like my heart doesn't skip a beat every time she smiles. Like I don't forget what I'm about to say because I get lost in those piercing -

The door opens and Connor starts walking down the aisle, arm linked with y/n's, and I swear my breath catches in my throat. She looks beautiful in the white blouse we just got her, and the high waisted, ripped jeans that she insisted on wearing because a skirt was just not her. And I agreed, but to be fair she could tell me she wanted to wear a paper bag and I would have went along with it because I just want her. It's not until she's in front of me, wiping at my cheek that I realize I've been crying watching her walk toward me.

"Hey, come on, bub. Marrying me can't be that bad," she jokes.

I laugh, wiping roughly at my face, "Jesus, no. You're just so beautiful."

She flips her hair playfully, "Well then what are you waiting for, Mendes? You gonna marry me or not?"

Mendes. She's about to be a Mendes, and I can't wait.

---

I wake up the next morning, sheets thrown haphazardly over me and the beautiful girl in my arms. I watch her figure for a few minutes, once I've adjusted to the bright light the sun brings into the room. Her hair is all over the place, but still framing her face perfectly as her eyes moved rapidly behind her eyelids. Her naked chest is just barely covered by the white bedsheets, one arm thrown over her stomach. And then my eyes land on that dainty ring she fell in love with the second I slipped it on her finger last night and it hits me that I'm laying in bed next to my wife. And I let myself think about how I get to wake up next to her forever. It's the most perfect moment.

Until my phone rings beside me and suddenly it isn't anymore.

"Hey, Andrew," I whisper as I answer his FaceTime call.

"WHAT IS THIS I'M SEEING ABOUT YOU GETTING MARRIED?!" Andrew's loud voice booms through my phone and I flinch because y/n stirs beside me.

"Shh…" I point my phone to my girl who is still sleeping, thankfully.

"You got married. Don't you think that's something you should tell your manager so that he's not blindsided early the next morning by all of these pap photos and articles and hundreds of texts and emails asking if it's true?"

"Well I am sorry I didn't tell you."

"So you did? Shawn, what were you thinking? This is everywhere right now."

"I was thinking that I have the most perfect woman by my side and I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with her and that I wanted the rest of my life to start right then and there. That's what I was thinking. I'm sorry I didn't tell you and I'm sorry that it's online. But I'm not sorry it happened. I have everything I've ever wanted right here next to me." I look over to see y/n looking up at me with a sleepy smile.

"Shawn," my manager tries to grab my attention, but I can't seem to focus on anything other than the smiling woman next to me.

"If you'll excuse me. My wife just woke up and I would like to give her a proper good morning." I shut my phone off and reach over to brush a strand of hair from my girl's face. "Hey there, beautiful." I say quietly and lean down to press a soft kiss to her lips.

She hums, "good morning, handsome."

"Sleep well? You were… very tired last night," I say with a smirk and she moves to slap me, but I'm quick to catch her wrist.

"Nuh-uh, Mrs. Mendes." She giggles into my chest. "What? What's so funny?"

"Nothing," she shook her head, her hands on either side of my face. "It's just the first time I've heard it like that. I like it."

"Me too."

"So Andrew's mad."

I shrug. "He'll get over it. Now come cuddle," I lay on my beck and open my arms for her. It doesn't take long for her to shrink into my side, head on my chest.

"You still want to be married to me?" She murmurs, half asleep once again.

I press my lips to the crown of her head, "for the rest of my life, baby."

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***

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That's it, guys!! Thank you for reading!!! Like, reblog, and leave feedback!! 💙💙

[shawnpetermuffins]

Allergies

Request by @prettylittlethingggg: how about the reader’s allergies are really bad and shawn tries to help (maybe on tour idk your choice)!!!

A/n: thank you for the Request! I loved the idea! Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1.8k

***

Touring with Shawn is a dream. I get to spend every moment with the love of my life and I get to watch him do what he loves most in the world.

However, I was not prepared for the effects this constant travel would have on me. Going from one city to the next, one country right after the other, it's exhausting. Which is probably why I've suddenly become so allergic to nearly everything outside.

Okay… so I know it doesn't work that way, obviously. I've had allergies my whole life. My main triggers being flowers and dirt.  So that phrase, "stop and smell the roses" never really applied to me. But it seems like all Shawn ever wants to do is go outside. Which I guess I get, he's constantly on planes or in hotel rooms, or in arenas and he never truly gets to see the beauty of the places he's in.

And I'm usually willing to go out and see the world with him. But that just isn't the case this time. We'd been exploring nonstop only yesterday, and now my eyes are red and puffy. My nose is stuffed up and running, my throat itches and nothing will help with it. Not to mention my throbbing headache now that the sun is filtering brightly through the thin, sheer curtains of our hotel room.

Shawn's arm is wrapped around my chest, making it even harder for me to breathe seeing as I'm having to inhale deeper since I'm breathing through my mouth. I manage to push him off as gently as I can and make my way to the bathroom for a hot shower, in hopes that the steam with open up my nose a little bit.

It helps a little. I'm still stuffy and my throat and head are still fighting for top pain spot - my head is winning, but not by much.

When I step back into the room, my warm, red skin wrapped in a towel, Shawn looks up from his phone. "Hey, baby. Brian wants to go look at this cool record shop he saw yesterday when we were coming back to the hotel. You wanna get dressed?"

I sigh and dig into my bag, searching for clean underwear and a bra.

My heartbeat is so loud in my ears that I barely register the soft patter of his feet on the carpet and nearly jump out of my skin when his hands find my bare waist. He immediately removes himself from me and I feel bad.

"Sorry," he whispers, now only placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Y/n, look at me."

I do and his face softens with concern, "Your eyes are red. Have you been crying?"

I sniffle, shaking my head. "Just don't feel good." I slip into my underwear and drop the towel to clasp my bra, but Shawn reaches the straps before I do and does it for me.

"What's wrong? And you hurting? Do I need to get you something? You can't take Tylenol right? You're allergic to it?"

"Shawn," I say softly, barely trusting my voice which is raspier than I expected it to be considering it was just an itchy throat. But I forget every time just how bad my allergies get. "Don't worry about me."

He glares at me, "Don't tell me that. How can I not? My girl doesn't feel good."

"I'll live. Go out with Brian. I'm gonna sit this one out."

"What? No." He pulls a shirt out of his suitcase and hands it to me. "Put this on. I'm gonna run to the drugstore and get you some medicine, okay? I'll be back as quickly as possible."

"Shawn, I'm fine. Go hang out. Please."

"I'm not just gonna leave you while you feel like shit. I'd lose good boyfriend points."

"I'm not keeping score," I mumble, sliding into the soft fabric of his shirt.

"I am. And I'd be a horrible boyfriend if I left you alone while you didn't feel good."

"You would n-"

He put his phone up to his ear, holding one finger up, basically telling me to be quiet and I kinda want to punch him for it. Maybe I should be keeping score.

"Brian, hey. So, I can't go today… no, I know, but y/n doesn't feel good. I need to keep her company… No. Yeah. But that not the only reason I called. I have to get her some medicine from the drugstore. You think you could come to our room and just keep an eye on her until I come back?" He's silent for a second and I sigh dramatically, falling back onto the bed. "Oh yeah, they probably would have something downstairs, eh? I'll check there first. Thanks, bud. I'll see you in a minute… okay, bye."

"I don't need a babysitter," I groan, resulting in a cough.

"I know you don't but I would just feel better if you had someone here."

"It's allergies, Shawn. I'm not dying."

"If it's allergies, what bothering you? Eyes, clearly. Nose? You sound kinda stuffy. Do your ears hurt?"

"They just don't work," I roll onto my side, curling into myself and looking up at him while I talk. "One minute you sound really loud and the next you're muffled."

"Okay? What else? Throat?"

I nod, "and my head."

He sighs, "I'm sorry, baby." He leans down to press a kiss to my temple; I melt into his touch, but he pulls away too soon for my liking. "I'll get anything I can. I'll get water and gatorade. Hell, I'll get everything. Are you hungry?"

"Not really."

He nods, finding a pair of socks and a hoodie thrown carelessly in his bag. "I'm gonna get you something anyway. You need to eat."

I roll my eyes, "then why ask me if you're gonna do it anyway?"

He sighs and comes back to sit next to me. "I'm just going to pretend that you're not giving me attitude because you're sick. Can't punish you when you're sick," he smirks, pressing a soft kiss to my lips.

"Hmmm… promise to do it when I'm feeling better?" I ask without opening my eyes.

He chuckles in response, "we'll see, honey." There's a knock on the door and he's off the bed in a second. "Hey, buddy. Thanks for doing this."

I don't hear what Brian says, he's speaking much softer than Shawn and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't grateful.

"She's laying on the bed."

"Hey, y/n. How you feeling?" He asks, looking a bit amused with my current state. I know I look like absolute trash.

"Fine enough to stay in the room without a babysitter while Shawn goes downstairs."

"Well, while I would agree," he sits next to me and pats my head. "Shawn doesn't think so."

"It's literally just allergies. I just need to take a pill and I'll be fine. He's fussing about nothing."

"I'm still here, you know?" I hear his foot hit the floor after he shoves his shoe on.

"I'm aware," I grumble, scooting closer to Brian so I can rest my head in his lap. He chuckles and runs his hands through my hair, causing my eyes to grow heavy.

"I'll be right back, baby."

I nod the best I can through my lazy state, eyes closed, and listen for the door to close.

---

I don't know how long he's gone or how I ended up back on my side of the bed instead of on Brian's lap, but I wake up sometime around noon. Shawn's nowhere to be seen, but I hear him strumming a guitar from the small living room. My headache, thankfully, has dulled, and I waddle over to where he's sitting on the couch.

He smiles when he sees me, and I kind of wish I had been a little quieter so I could listen to him play a little longer. "Hey, baby! Have a nice nap?"

I nod, my eye fluttering shut for a second.

"I'm glad." He sets his guitar down and reaches for the bag on the coffee table. He's pulling out all different kinds of medicine, four different gatorade flavors, lots of snacks and I just stare in awe at this man.

"Okay," he says without looking up. "I wasn't sure what was bothering you most, so I kinda just got you one of every allergy thing down there. So we have runny nose, sore throat, itchy/irritated eyes. There's one for congestion, I think that's what allergies are sometimes, right?" He moves the boxes around while talks. "I got you some water. They ran out of the red gatorade, and I know that's your favorite, so I just got you a few other ones in case you still wanted that. I'll get you a red one after dinner. And I know you said you weren't really hungry, so if you're not in the mood for a meal," he clears his throat and I smile down at him, resting my head against the door frame. "I got you some snacks. There's gold fish, some granola bars, a few bags of Chex mix. They had fruit roll ups, and I didn't know when the last time was that you had one, so I got a couple of those."

He finally looks up at me beneath those long lashes and I could melt right here. "What's wrong? You're staring weird."

I shake my head with a small smile on my face, "I just… I'm in love with you."

His cheeks instantly redden. "Well I'm in love with you, too."

I make my way over to him and he spreads his legs a little, giving me space to slide between them. His hands rub soothing circles on my sides and I hum at the soft contact. "Thank you for bringing me this stuff, and for taking care of me. You really didn't-" I stop myself just in time to sneeze into my elbow. I sniffle and continue, "you didn't have to."

Shawn's laugh rumbles against my stomach, where his head had found it's resting spot and my fingers thread leisurely through his thick curls. "I did have to. Can't have you feeling like this the rest of the week."

"You're perfect," I mumble into his hair and his grip on my waist tightens.

"Come on," he pats the back of my bare thighs and looks up at my albeit still red eyes, "let's get you some medicine and lots of fluids."

"Since when did you become a doctor?" I laugh lightly.

"Since I watched all of Grey's."

"Should I call you doctor Mendes?" I mean it as a joke, but he takes it another way.

A smirk plays at his lips and he squeezes my thigh. "We'll save that for another time," he winks and I immediately cover my face.

"You're incorrigible."

"You love me," he presses a kiss to my clothed stomach and I nod despite my better judgement.

"I do. Sometimes, I think a little too much."

***

Tags: @curlyshawny @bbellbagel @shawns-badreputation @anamariel2301 @turtoix @tomshufflepuff @ivegotparticulartaste @dino-16-avocado

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[shawnpetermuffins]

Pictured with You (ix.)

A/n: I swear we are almost done with the angst. You just gotta bear with me!! But this is for real my favorite chapter thus far.

Summary: late night arguments put you to the test (😉 I'm so clever)

Warnings: none

Word count: 3k I got carried away with this one

***

I've just finished brushing my teeth when a knock sounds through the room. I sigh, not quite ready to face Shawn. I've been avoiding the confrontation for weeks, but this is bigger than the both of us now.

With one last deep breath, I open the door, instinctively stepping to the side enough to let him in.

He clears his throat, hands in his pockets while I close the door. When I turn to finally face the six foot giant in front of me, I notice just how nervous he looks. He's rocking and forth on his heels and it's not doing me any favors, making me second guess this whole thing.

"You can uh, you can sit down, if you want." I walk around his tall, fidgeting body and sit on the edge of the bed, suddenly not able to trust my balance. Because staring at him, how can your knees not grow weak?

He sits next to me, hands clasping in his lap, but he quickly untangles them to play with the ring on his pinky. I'm memorized watching him, thankful for the distraction from the all-too awkward silence that's clouding the room.

"So… are we just gonna sit here and continue to avoid what happened?" I ask finally.

He sighs, "we've- you've- been doing a pretty good job of that."

I roll my eyes at that, "Shawn. Come on."

"No, you come one, y/n. We had sex! We has sex three times that night. And you left like it was nothing. You know I wanted you to stay. And I know you wanted to, too."

"It doesn't matter what we want, bub."

"Like hell it doesn't! All that matters is what we want."

"No, Shawn. That's not all that matters. There are more people involved than you think. And if someone had caught me sneaking out of your room that morning? It would have been over for us."

"And what if you had come out when I did?"

"They'd definitely be wondering why I was in the same clothes I was in the day before."

"But you weren't. And you just decided that leaving me would be easier."

"I did. And I still do."

"How could you leave without saying goodbye?"

"Because I knew you would try to convince me to stay."

"Well of course I would have."

"And I knew I couldn't."

"You could have left a note or something. Instead you went ghost on me. What did I do wrong?"

"It wasn't just you," I try to reason. "It was me too." I run my hand through my tangled hair. "We shouldn't have had sex. We both know we shouldn't have."

"Maybe not, but we did. So it wasn't professional of us, big deal. But it was… god, it was amazing."

I blush at that, but it doesn't last long. "Even if it was, it was a mistake."

"Do you regret it?" He asks finally, and I'm taken back by the question. I look up at him, finding that glimmer of doubt in his eyes. He looks about ready to break and I feel about the same.

I don't know what to say. Because it was a mistake. We were drunk, sure, but by the third time, we were sober enough to not be able to blame it on the excess amount of alcohol we drank earlier that night.

"You do," he says when I haven't answered.

"I don't," I respond and realize it was the truth. I don't regret it, because if given the chance, I would do it over and over again. Fully sober or shit-face drunk. "I just think we were a little selfish in this decision."

"Selfish?"

"You do realize I work for you, right? You realize that we still have like six months of tour left. That if we dated, it would change everything for literally everyone on your team. All of your fans. We were only thinking about what we wanted and not at all about how it would affect everyone else."

"That's what you're supposed to do in a relationship, y/n! It's not supposed to be some big production. It's not about everyone else. It's about who you're sleeping next to at the end of the night. I'm sleeping next to you, honey, not my entire team and fan base."

"But you're not sleeping next to me," I respond without hesitation.

"I want to be," he replies just as quickly.

"We can't do this, bub. You know we can't."

"No, I don't know that. You're just scared. You're running away from what could potentially be the best thing to happen to us. And you're not even giving me the chance to dive into it."

"You do know that! Andrew has done literally everything in his power to keep us apart since the second I was hired. You promised - You promised him that nothing would happen," I stand up. "But it did. On more than one occasion. We kissed, in front of everyone, no less. And then we're hanging all over each other at the bar, literally making out in front of our friends. You follow me to the bathroom and almost - had we been there a second more, I probably would have let it happen- take me right there on the counter. And then we get back to the hotel." I sigh, frustrated with myself. "We were just supposed to cuddle. That's what we said. So how did we end up here?"

It's a rhetorical question, but he answers anyway. "Simple. We ended up here because we wanted to. You could have said no to any of what happened. You could have said no and it would have been fine. I would have left it alone and we wouldn't be in this mess right now. But you said yes, and whether you admit it or not, we like each other. I can't speak for you, but I'd go as far as to say that I more than like you."

I close my eyes at the confession. "Please."

"Please what? Please don't tell you that I'm falling in love with you? Please don't tell you that if I knew you weren't upset right now I'd try to kiss you because your lips are my favorite thing to touch?" He's standing now too, towering over me like he always seems to do.

I shrink into myself, terrified by how much his confession doesn't scare me. By how much I want it to be true. But I can't give in now. Not when he's in the dark about something that could potentially ruin his good boy reputation and put his career on hold if he chooses to be involved.

I know all of this, and I still am pulled to him like waves to the shore. Which is why when he reaches for me in a desperate way of making that physical contact he craves when stressed, I fall into him. Head resting on his chest, arms snaked around his torso. And we stay like this for what seems like hours, but I know can only be a minute or two. I go to pull away, and my next mistake is looking up at him. Seeing his pink, chapped lips, and big doey eyes, and those few pink patches on his skin that never seem to go away but make him even more appealing to the human eye. He looks too perfect. And that's why I don't stop him when he leans in and his lips press mine gently, asking permission. I react immediately with a gentle whimper and that's all he needs to pull me closer to him, fully connecting our lips. He provides me with a warmth I didn't realize I'd been missing these past few weeks. A warmth that I've been lost without. A warmth only he can give me.

So I give in. My fingers curl in his hair and I press into him a little harder, kiss him a little deeper. I find myself on my back, his rough hands under my shirt, lighting me on fire. I'm an absolute moaning mess when I feel his lips everywhere, leaving me completely at his mercy. His teeth nip at my skin at what seem like random places, but based on how long he stays there, marking me as his, I know they're strategic.

Before he can go any lower, I bring him back to my lips, my tongue fighting his for dominance, but I don't really want it. I just want him, I want to taste him again. He leaves my lips much to soon, and when I feel his tongue on the shell of my ear, it's like the world has come back into focus. I'm suddenly hyper aware of everywhere his body touches mine and how wrong this is once again.

"Shawn, bub, we have to stop."

"Just a few more minutes," he growls, nibbling on the skin behind my ear, causing my eyes to flutter shut. I open them almost instantly though as I push at his chest, my breath uneven. He's panting beside me, his fingers still tracing my skin where he's pushed up my shirt.

"Why'd we stop?" He asks lazily. "Are you okay?"

His heavy hand on my skin is too much to handle right now, so I sit up, removing him from me and pull my shirt down.

"Y/n?" He reaches for my hand, but I shy away. "Baby, come on. Talk to me."

This is a dangerous game we're playing and I can't keep pretending that neither of us will get hurt if it continues.

"We can't keep doing this."

"Doing what?"

"Hooking up in hotel rooms."

"You know that's not just what we're doing? This is so much more than just a random hookup, and you know that. I want to be with you, y/n. Why do you keep pushing me away?"

"This isn't about just you and me, babe. This is bigger than the both of us." I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to get rid of my forming headache. I stand up again, not sure I could stay still at this point.

"What are you talking about? Is it Andrew still? Because I'll talk to him. Yeah, he's my manager, but I mostly call the shots. Okay? I can deal with him."

I shake my head, "It's not because of Andrew."

"Then what? Is it the fans? Because if it is-"

"I might be pregnant!" I blurt, quickly covering my mouth, regretting saying it like this. Regretting saying it at all. "I'm sorry. Shit, I didn't- I didn't mean to tell you this way. I really, I'll be honest, I wasn't planning on telling you at all... I just - you kept talking and trying to find some way to fix this, and I… I don't know. I just needed you to stop for a minute." I shut up finally, realizing that rambling isn't doing anything other than making him stare harder at his feet, and his frown to deepen. I want so badly to reach for him and smooth out the creases on his forehead, release the tension in his shoulders.

"Please Shawn, say something. You're making me even more nervous."

But he's still quiet, and he remains that way for another five minutes or so. "You're pregnant?" He finally asks after too much uncomfortable silence.

"Maybe?" I shrug, "I don't know. I'm late and I've been throwing up all day, I just..." I trail off.

"Have you taken a test?"

I shake my head, "no."

He takes my hand and we're practically rushing out of my hotel room.

"Shawn, stop. Where are we going?"

"Drug store." He pauses only for a second and looks down at me, cupping my cheek. "We need to know."

He takes those couple extra steps to the door and his hand is on the handle, but I pull him back a little, my feel still planted firmly on the floor. "What's wrong?"

I can't help but let out a slight laugh, "I need my shoes." That one sentence seems to lighten the tension between us, even if it is only for a second.

"Right. That's kind of important." I can tell he doesn't want to, but he let's go of my hand so I can get my sandals that are tossed at the end of the bed.

---

We walk to the nearest drugstore, hands tangled together. I think we both need the contact right now, maybe me more than him.

"Maybe you should look around in some other aisle? We don't need paparazzi or fans or anyone getting pictures of this."

"I'm not letting you do this alone."

"It's just a test. I'll have it in two seconds. Just meet me out front?"

He sighs, running his hand through his hair. "At least let me pay for it," he digs his wallet out.

"No, Shawn, I have money."

He takes my open palm and places the card there, folding my fingers over it. Even against my protests he shakes his head, giving me the pin number. "Get a few, eh?" He presses a kiss to my temple, but I quickly pull away, scared that someone might catch us. However, it is almost 3 am and we seem to be the only people in this twenty-four hour drugstore.

I just nod and go the few aisles down, to the part of the aisle I've always subconsciously avoided in any store. I'm overwhelmed by the amount options there are of tests. Some with plus and minus signs, some that say just flat out 'pregnant' or 'not pregnant.' There are others with one or two lines and it's all making me anxious. I don't know what's the best one, or the most accurate, or if any of them are accurate. I don't have time to think anymore about it, and I don't realize how long I've been standing there staring at the wall of tests until my phone buzzes in my back pocket, causing me to jump. I pull it out, seeing Shawn's name lighting up the screen.

You okay? Need help?

I type back a quick no and let him take of that what he will. Then I just grab three random ones that I've seen in commercials that people seem to trust - or that's what they say on TV, honestly, I don't know what to believe at this point. I just know that if I stay in this aisle for a minute longer Shawn will come looking for me and I'll most likely break down.

I'm taking Shawn's card out of the chip reader when he finds me. I immediately hand it back to him, and thank the lady when she hands me the bag. I roll it up and stuff it in the pocket of the hoodie Shawn threw over me on the way here. It's his red Givenchy one that he's started wearing around me a lot more often. We don't talk on the long walk back to the hotel, but we don't need to because somehow, his hand covering mine is enough to bring me comfort. Until we get back to the hotel and I become desperately aware of what has to happen now.

"Hey, it's okay." He says quietly when I finally gather up the courage to go to the bathroom. "Take your time, okay? I'm right here if you need me."

Being alone in the bathroom is enough to make me freeze up all over again. It takes me another five minutes to take all the tests out of the boxes with shaky hands and timid, uneven breaths. I want to cry, and I'm sure I will, but I just can't right now.

I turn them all face down when I'm done, caps back on and I sit my phone next to them, timer counting down.

A knock sounds from the door when I sit myself down on the edge on the bathtub. "Y/n/n. You okay?"

I shake my head, but realize he can't see me. "You can come in," I say through the door, although my voice is quiet. I'm not even sure he hears me until the loud click of the door handle fills the room.

"Everything alright?"

I take in a shuddery breath, "I'm scared, rockstar."

He sits down next to me, wrapping his arms around me in a tight hug. "Oh, mea vita. I know, I am too." He wraps his arms tighter around me, if that's even possible. I feel my eyes brimming with tears and I let them fall, taking in shallow breath after shallow breath. We just stay like this until my timer goes off. And for another minute after, when the insistent ringing doesn't stop. Shawn barely has to get off the rim of the tub to reach my phone. He holds it between us and slides the alarm away, bringing us back to the heavy silence.

I stare at the three sticks sitting in the counter, far enough away that I can't read them, but close enough to keep me on edge. "I don't want to look," I say, my voice small.

He takes my still shaking hand in his and presses gentle kisses to each knuckle. "I'm right here. I'm always going to be right here," he brings our hands to his chest. "Whatever those tests say, it won't change how I feel, Okay? Believe me. I'm here."

I nod, taking in a deep breath, "Okay." I don't let go of his hand when I stand up, so he stands with me. My eyes are closed; I don't want to see my tear stained face in the mirror. I turn them all over at once and open my eyes, focusing on the small windows of the three sticks. My breath leaves my body, and suddenly so does all feeling. "Oh god," I collapse into Shawn's arms and he let's me, rubbing my back in comforting circles.

"Its okay," he whispers against my hairline. "We're okay, baby."

***

Tags: @curlyshawny @anamariel2301 @shawns-badreputation @bbellbagel @turtoix @ivegotparticulartaste @tomshufflepuff @dino-16-avocado @sleepybesson

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[shawnpetermuffins]

Pictured with You (xiii.)

A/n: and now for this highly anticipating (not really) chapter Shawn x y/n content that we've been lacking the last 2 chapters.

Summary: maybe it's time they both stopped playing dumb and just admitted their feelings to each other.

Warnings: none

Word count: 2k

***

"Whoa!" I look around at the rooftop. There's two rows of tea candles in these clear, water filled vases leading to a single cafe table, and these two gigantic trees illuminated by fairy lights. And behind the table is an old projector. "Are you sure it's okay to be out here? It looks like someone set it up for something special."

"Yeah," Connor nods. "It's fine."

I'm so busy taking in the soft light the trees are giving off that I almost don't hear the door opening and slamming shut quickly.

"Jesus, Brian. I'm up here, what's the-" The voice of my curly headed dream boy stops quickly. "Fuck."

When I turn to look over at the two friends, his eyes grow darker and his posture becomes more stiff, I feel my body doing the same.

"Hey," he says finally, after what feels like hours of just staring at each other.

"Hi." I kick the toe of my shoe into the pavement, averting my eyes.

"Well, we will leave you guys to it," Brian claps Shawn's shoulder and I can feel Connor shuffling  from beside me.

"Where are you going?" Shawn and I ask at the same time, staring now at our friends who are not so discreetly trying to leave us alone on the roof.

"Just press play on the projector," Connor says.

"Oh," Brian snaps his fingers before turning back toward the door. "There's champagne in the ice bucket at the table. Maybe pour a drink before you watch it, eh?" And they both disappear behind the door.

Neither of us more for a while, but Shawn clears his throat. "So it seems we've been set up."

I nod, "Yeah. Guess so." I don't look him in the eye, I can't. Because if I look at him I know I am going to melt.

"Uh," even though I'm trying not to glance his way, I can see him through my peripheral vision while I walk along the candle lit path. He runs his fingers through his unruly curls before continuing. "I guess we should watch the video, or whatever it is they have set up."

I nod, finding the bottle of champagne Brian mentioned. "Need a drink first?" I ask, effortlessly popping the top of the bottle.

"Please," he sits down, placing both glasses in front of me. I pour his first, almost to the brim and then mine, just as full. I down it in one gulp, not at all loose enough to sit out here on this obviously romantic rooftop that our friends deliberately decorated just for us. I make a mental note to ask Connor later how they even pulled this off. I pour another glass before I sit down too, laying my camera gently on the table between us.

"Y/n?" Shawn tries.

"You gonna press play?"

"Not until you look at me."

I huff out a breath and lean back to press the big button. Humming fills the speakers - Shawn's humming. The video is done in signature Connor style, quick flashes of black and white lights and short clips of backs. Except instead of it just being Shawn, like I'm so used to seeing when he edits the behind the scenes videos, I see me. Me and him. I'm in his lap at the bar. Then we're goofing off in his dressing room, laughing to the point where we're both doubled over, clutching our stomachs. You can barely hear our contagious laughs over Shawn's melodic voice.We're sitting on the tour bus, side by side, sharing earbuds, bopping our heads to the soft beat. You can't hear what we're saying, but the obvious look in our eyes tells you just what we're thinking.

And every single night, my arms are not around you.

I'm on his back as he runs down the span of the sea shore, feet bare and kicking up sand.

My mind's still wrapped around you.

Back on the bus, I'm throwing a pencil at Shawn's head because he made a stupid joke. But he's smiling triumphantly because caught it before it could hit his precious face.

Baby tell me when you're ready, I'm waiting.

Another dressing room and Shawn's sleeping in my lap while I play with his curls. He's playing for our coffee. We're swaying awfully to whatever song is playing in his hotel room. I'm tracing the swallow tattoo on his hand and he's giggling because it tickles.

And if I have to I'll wait forever.

Now he's trying to draw a matching swallow on my hand with pen, but neither of us can stop laughing because the lines are so wobbly on that poor bird.

Say the word and I'll change my plans.

He's running down the hall of some random arena straight to me. He picks me up, spins me around, and my head is buried in the sweaty crook of his neck, no doubt blushing.

Yeah, you know that we fit together.

I'm pressed against Shawn's chest, the entire crew surrounding us as we mould our lips together for the first time. The shock is evident on everyone's faces, but we're so consumed in each other that we don't notice.

I know your heart like the back of my hand.

The clips are slowing down now as we dance horribly in the green room, our hands laced together, my forehead against his chest while I laugh at his lack of skill. The boy can do just about everything, but he can't dance to save his life. But now his hand is on the small of my back while we walk through the crowded sidewalk into the arena.

"I am incredibly, undeniably, incoherently, unfathomably in love with her," Shawn's voice blares the speakers as the music starts to die down.

"Do you really want to hear me say that I'm in love with him?" And now mine. I hadn't realized that Brian had recorded and based on Shawn's evident confusion, he didn't know he had recorded him either.

The screen is just about to cut out, but not before two words flash in bright white letters.

YOU'RE READY.

I don't dare to take my eyes off the wall now. I'm scared that I'll break.

"So… you're in love with me?" Shawn says after minutes of uncomfortable silence.

I laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "Well I can't deny in now, can I?"

"You could have changed your mind."

I finally spare him a glance, and he's studying my face. Hard. "It's not that easy."

"So you're still-?"

"Yeah… you?"

He nods, "God, yes."

I sigh, locking my fingers together. "It doesn't change-"

"Why not? Why doesn't it change anything? I'm in love with you, y/n. That kind of feeling doesn't just go away overnight. Especially not when I know you love me too."

"It's too hard, Shawn."

"What is? What is so hard about this? You're here, I'm here. We're in the same place at the same time, but you still don't seem to want me as much as I want you."

I flinch at his words. "That's what you think? You think I don't want you? Even knowing that I love you, you still think I don't want you?"

He just shrugs.

"Shawn, I have never in my life wanted something as badly as I do you. But you have to take something into consideration."

"What?"

"We live in two different countries. You're never home because you always have to be moving, and I'm not saying that's a bad thing, that's just how you are. You can't stay put. But part of a relationship is stability and I don't know if we could ever have that."

"Why not?"

"Because being long distance in a normal relationship is hard enough. But being in a long distance relationship with an internationally known rockstar who travels the world about ten out of the twelve months a year? We won't have time for each other."

"But you're my photographer," he says with a raised eyebrow.

"For this tour, I was. Josiah is your photographer, Shawn. We can't just put him out of a job because you want to be with me."

"Then we can have you both."

"You don't need two! Bub, it's not logical to have both of us doing the exact same thing. I was hired to do this tour, but he'll be back for the next one. And this - us seeing each other every day - isn't going to be our normal."

"Then I'll go and see you every chance I get. Or I'll fly you out to see me. We'll make it work. I want to make it work."

"Well I do, too. But I can't just have you going from your home to mine every other week or whenever you think you're gonna come see me. You have a job to do, and so do I."

"You're not giving us a chance, y/n. All I'm asking for a chance."

I sigh and take in his pleading features. "Okay, and what if we don't work?"

"We'll never know if we don't try."

"Relationships are work. Do you think you'll have time?"

"I'll make time," he reaches for my hand and I don't pull away. "I know it's work. But I'm willing to put my absolute everything into this. Because I hate seeing you broken because of me. These last few months, not talking, barely being in the same room together, almost never making eye contact, it was the worst thing I've ever had to watch happen. I swear, I was watching you slip through my fingers. I can't let that happen again."

I let out a breathy laugh, "Then what do we do now? We've kind of done this all completely backwards. What with drunken hookups, and pregnancy scares, and I love you's. Hell the only things we haven't done are go on a proper date and get engaged."

He hums, looking down at my hands. His eyes land on my left one and a small smile creeps onto his face. "You're still wearing my ring," he says, eyes wide.

I feel a blush creep on my cheeks. "Oh. Yeah. Sorry about that. I probably should have given this back, huh?" I go to take it off, but he stops me.

"No. Keep it. Please." He brings my hand to his lips and presses a gentle kiss to the tiny metal piece. "Still looks so good on you."

I can't help but smile under his lovely eyes that are still drawing me in. "Stop looking at me like that," I mumble, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

"Like what?"

"Like I'm your favorite person on earth."

He chuckles, "well you'll have to do something completely unforgivable for me to do that."

"And… what do I have to do to get you to kiss me again?"

A smirk plays at the corners of his lips, "Come here, mea vita." And he's pulling me out of my seat and to his. I hum in content when his lips connect with mine and I'm warm again, loving the soft touch of his hands on the exposed skin above my jeans. Loving him.

"Fuck yes!" The door slams open and I pull away from my boy with a laugh.

"Our friends are insane," I mumble against him, my thumbs rubbing over his lips.

He nods, biting playfully at my fingers. "They got us here," he says only loud enough for me to hear.

"Yeah…" I smile widely, "Yeah they did."

"What, are we invisible now?" Brian jokes, but we don't pay him much attention because how are we supposed to focus on anything other than each other? Soft, and pure, and here in each other's arms.

"I'm in love with you," he says with a smile that melts my heart, the sides of his eyes crinkling as he bares his perfectly straight, white teeth.

I finger the collar of his shirt and nod, "I love you… so, so much."

---

"Are you sure we need to tell him? I mean, I don't want him to get mad."

Shawn pulls me with him to where Andrew and Cez are talking to one of the stage hands. It's the final concert tonight, so they want to make sure everything goes according to plan. "Come on, y/n. It'll be fine."

I nod, but I'm still not sure about it. "Are you positive? Because like, maybe it would be better to tell him after the show?"

He chuckles, "Baby, look at me." I do. "It might sound extremely selfish, but we need to tell him now. Because I want to kiss my girl before I go on stage tonight. I need that extra bit of good luck. And I don't want to do it secretly."

I laugh, resting my head against his chest, taking his hands in mine. "God, I hope you're always this selfish."

His chest vibrates against my cheek, "C'mon. Gotta introduce everyone to my girl."

I hum, looking up at him. "I could get used to that."

"Yeah? Me too." And he's kissing me again, painting me in every possible feeling and I could not love him more.

"Tell me a lie," I say when we pull back.

"What?"

"I just… I need to make sure this is still real. So tell me a lie."

"I don't love you."

I nod, a blatantly stupid smile on my face. "Yeah… that works."

***

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One more chapter to go!! Please like, reblog, and leave feedback!! 💙💙

[shawnpetermuffins]

Pictured with You (vi.)

A/n: I wrote and rewrote this because it wasn't good enough. It's short and still not that great, actually. Also, in sorry for the ending

Summary: idk what Shawn and y/n expected to happen when they end up in his room together after a night out.

Warnings: it's like maybe 5% smut, also angst but like what else is new (and it might only be angsty to me tbh)

Word count: 2k

***

My legs are draped over his on the bed while we laugh about absolutely nothing. It's clear we're both still trying to sober up, but we've also come a long way from how gone we were at the bar. He's playing with my fingers while we talk and I can't help but lean into him, resting my head against his shoulder.

"Tired?" He asks and I only grunt in response, my eyes already fluttering shut.

"I should go back to my room." I whisper, afraid of breaking the comfortable silence.

"Stay," Shawn pleads.

"Come on, rockstar. You know I can't."

"You can have whichever side of the bed you want. Just… please stay?"

I wish it took more convincing, I really did. But I mutter out an okay and now we're under his covers and even though he gave me the choice of either side, I make my way to where he lays, cuddling into him, my head on his chest. His hand is combing gently through my hair, lulling me deeper and deeper into sleep. But then his hand strays from my head and I feel the ghost of his fingertips playing with and pushing at the hem of my shirt. And then they graze my skin, the warmth of his hand causing me to shudder at the contrast between his core temperature and mine. He's not doing it to get anything, though. I know because his movements are lazy, there's no underlying intentions, he's simply just doing it because he can. And I don't stop him because it feels good, his rough, calloused skin against my smooth hip.

"You keep doing that and I just might kiss you," I mutter into his chest, toying with his necklace.

"Then I guess I'll keep going," he says, amused. I hum as his whole hand slips under my shirt, rubbing gently over my tummy, his pinky slipping into my belly button and back out with a small laugh eliciting both of our mouths. I sit up, my hand resting on his chest.

"Shawn," I stop. I know I should tell him no. Because I know this shouldn't happen. That it'll change everything for us and I don't want that. But my want - my need - for the intimate contact overpowers my better judgement and before I give myself the chance to second guess myself, I lean in and I kiss him for the third time tonight. And it somehow feels even better now, when we're both just here, completely vulnerable in front of each other. There's no one watching us this time, betting on how far we'll go.

It's soft, my hand still holding its place on his chest, but both of his cradle my face, deepening the kiss. And before I know it, I'm on top of him, my lips trailing down his jaw and neck. "Is this a bad idea?" I ask when our lips connect again.

"This," he takes in a sharp breath when I pull on his bottom lip with my teeth. "This is the best idea we've ever had."

---

I wake up around 6:30, the sun still hidden by the night for another few minutes. My clothes is strewn across the room in messy piles. My bra near the chair by the window, leggings beside the bed, my shirt is god knows where, but that doesn't totally matter because Shawn's is adorning my body right now (and it seems to be the only thing on me besides his heavy arm.)

I struggle a little to get out from under his grasp, but manage to do so with only a small fight to keep him asleep. A couple protests leave his parted lips, but he stays asleep, soft snores following his words. I let out a deep breath and search the still semi dark room for my abandoned clothes. My head pounds as I try to slip on my bra, and I almost topple over when I pull up one leg to shimmy into my panties. I'm as quiet as I possibly can be as I pull my phone and room key from the bedside table. I'm about to just leave the room without a second thought, but I stop short and turn back to the beautiful boy's sleeping figure.

Shawn's on his stomach, arm outstretched as if my body were still under it, face turned to the side I was occupying. I press the softest kiss to his temple and murmur, "It was fun, rockstar," before taking my stuff and exiting the room.

I lean against the door once it's latched shut and sink to the ground. "Jesus, fuck," I mumble into my knees. I had sex. But I didn't just have sex. I had sex with Shawn! My friend! My employer! I feel gross, like I ran a few miles in the sticky, humid air. My hair is matted to my forehead and neck, and I just overall feel dirty. So I somehow manage to pull myself off the ground and into the restroom. The rush of the water hitting the porcelain tub echoes through the brightly lit room and while I wait for it to warm, I strip to nothing. I dare myself to look in the mirror, even for just a second and when I do, I'm nearly thrown back by my reflection.

My face is flushed, but that's no doubt from how I was laying in his bed. But my hair, it definitely looks out of place, like it was being pulling one minute and caressed the next - which I was. My eyes travel further down, noticing the ungodly amount of hickies that coat my body - on my neck and shoulders, around my breasts, an entire line of bite marks trail down my stomach, and just when I think that's all of them, I see the ones on the insides of my thighs and my face is red for a whole different reason.

The memory of last night comes in a little fuzzy, and I may not remember everything, but I do remember this:

He works so well with his fingers. They start by tracing delicate patterns on my chest and down my stomach, but when they get to where they're most wanted - most needed - they become a little less gentle. They leave me arching my back as they curl inside me and I have to bite my tongue to keep from crying out. But it's not just his hands that are making me feel things I never have before.

His tongue. Oh my heavens, his tongue is magic. Shawn starts slow, cautious, still giving me time to tell him no. But I would never. And after a few minutes of agonizingly slow kitten licks, he becomes bolder, licking and sucking and inching his fingers in and out of me at an ungodly, borderline pornographic pace, causing equally as erotic moans to leave both our mouths. And I know I shouldn't look down, but I do it anyway and what a sight that is. I swear I could come undone just by looking at him. He's laser focused on pleasing me, his mouth and fingers working nonstop all while he holds my body down with just one hand, and stares up at me with those dark, lust filled eyes.

The Shawn I've always known is gone and replaced by this hungry, ravenous man who lays between my legs. But in the midst of our drawn out moans I hear, "You're just so fucking pretty like this," and I know he's still here. But those words are also enough to send me over the edge. I'm yanking on his perfect curls as he helps me ride out my high. He pulls away with a final lick and I whimper at the lost contact. He's smug though, a smirk transforming his face as he moves off the bed.

"Where are you going?" I ask, still breathless.

He chuckles, pulling something out of his bag. "Can never be too careful, mea vita." He comes back, condom between his fingers and I sit up, tugging at his boxers before he can get back on the bed.

I sigh and let the still warm water pound against my aching muscles. Last night was… it was everything I ever thought it would be and more. But it can't happen again. Not on tour, not back home. It was a mistake. But if I could go back in time, I know I'd make it over and over again.

---

I'm just finishing off my makeup when there's a knock on my door. I pray it's not Shawn, but when I see who is behind the door, I take it back.

"Connor, what do you want?"

He holds up his phone, a white flag lighting up his screen. "I'm calling a truce." He shrugs with a lopsided smile, "I miss my best friend."

I can't help but smile at his proclamation. "Okay," I pull him into my room, wrapping my arms around his waist. "I miss you too." I say as the door slams shut.

"So," he plops himself down on my still made bed. "Can we talk about last night?"

I cringe, "you came in here with a truce. Don't go back on your bullshit."

I just want to know that you're being careful. Okay? With the way things were escalating with you and Shawn at the bar, you can't expect me not to be a little curious."

"Con, please."

"That was one hell of a kiss you two had. And god knows what happened in that bathroom, and I don't- I don't want to know any details. It's just that, if something did happen, I want you to feel okay enough to tell me."

I claw at his shoulders while he continues to push his way into me, hitting somehow deeper with each thrust. I'm breathless as I let out moan after moan into his sweaty skin. "You feel so good," he swallows an oncoming moan from my throat when his tongue slips effortlessly into my mouth.

I sigh, "nothing happened," I lie, brushing out my tangled hair.

He didn't say anything for a long time, but I know he was processing it. He didn't believe me. "Okay," he mutters finally. "Can we go down for breakfast?"

I hum out an affirmation. "I just need to get my shoes."

Everyone's already downstairs, except for one. Shawn. And by the constant buzzing of my phone, I can guess why he's not with us all now. I pull my phone out of my back pocket and see the four texts that light up my screen.

Y/n where'd you go???

Why aren't you answering your phone?!

Y/N!!

Can we talk over breakfast pls?

"Everything okay?" Connor asks from across the table and I startle at the sound of his voice, not having realized that he was watching me.

"Yeah, no. Everything's fine. It's just Mom checking in. Guess I haven't been good at keeping her up to date with my whereabouts." I shove my phone in my back pocket, ignore the new wave of messages. If he really needed to talk, he'd come find me.

---

When he does finally come down, it's clear he isn't too thrilled, and I wish I could bring myself to go talk to him. Tell him that even though last night was perfect, being tangled in the sheets with him, it couldn't happen again. I don't get the chance though. Because not even two minutes later we're being ushered outside to the two waiting vans.

The crew is piling in, squeezing into seats, to head to yet another talk show performance, and Shawn visibly frowns when he sees I've taken my seat near the window. The seat next to me would be his on any other day, but today's it's taken by Connor.

We manage to get a few blocks from the hotel before my phone buzzes in my pocket again. I sigh and pull it out, reading the text over and over again.

Why are you avoiding me?

I'm not confident enough in my answer, so I tuck my phone away without a response.

***

Tags: @curlyshawny @shawns-badreputation @anamariel2301 @turtoix @tomshufflepuff @ivegotparticulartaste @dino-16-avocado @sleepybesson

PWY tags: @lifeoftheparty74 @alinaxxshawn @rosesfromcth @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @5-seconds-of-mendes @shawnwyr @sweetheartmendes @strangerliaa @xoxohannahlee

I hope you enjoyed!!

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[shawnpetermuffins]

Pictured with You (iii.)

A/n: I wanted to insert a little more Connor in this one, so here we go.

Summary: Connor thinks y/n and Shawn are getting too close and thinks they need to slow down.

Warnings: some fluff, some angst, and a lot of flashbacks

Word count: 2.5k

***

The bus is quiet except for the soft clicks of my keyboard as I edit some photos, and Connor's occasional sigh when he can't fit a clip with another. Everyone had gone to bed hours ago, but neither of us were willing to stop working yet. Connor claimed his footage and ideas were "too exciting to put off until morning." But I just wasn't quite ready to sleep yet.

"Your knee is still pretty banged up," Connor mutters, looking up from his laptop.

I look down at the rough scab and run a finger over it, wincing. "Yeah, I probably should have taken better care of it after Shawn cleaned it."

"Hmm… I don't know why he was the one to clean it anyway."

I think back to the night just a week ago, when I was so determined to get the perfect shot, that I tripped and scraped up my knee pretty bad.

I don't even notice it, really. At least not at first. It's not until I feel that little bit of wetness on my jeans that I realize I might have hit something. And it's confirmed when Shawn comes into the green room, high on adrenaline. He reaches for me, like he does after every show despite the dirty looks from Andrew and Cez (who I'm assuming knows about Shawn's supposed promise to not try anything), but he stops short when he notices my leg.

"What the hell happened? Are you okay? Why are you bleeding?"

I brush off his worry with a dismissive hand. "I'm fine. Just fell when I was trying to get a photo. I got it, by the way, and it's definitely my favorite."

"Uh huh, that's great, hon. But you are really bleeding," he's on his knees in front of me, carefully trailing his thumb around the raw skin, seeing as the scrape also tore my jeans. "Does this hurt?" He pushes gently around my leg and I wince.

"Fuck. Yeah."

He sighs, "sit down."

"What? Why?"

"I have to clean it. It might get infected."

"Connor," I shake my head. "He was just being a good friend."

"Y/n, you can't keep saying that's all it is. I know what you look like when you like someone. I was once on the receiving end of it, remember that?"

"Fucking obviously, Con. And bow did that end for us?"

"We're still great friends," he tries to reason.

"But do you remember how long it took for us to get back here? We didn't talk for months. And no offense, but I'm not willing to lose my friendship with Shawn because I might have feelings for him. After what happened with us, I can't risk that again."

"So you do like him?"

I cross my arms over my chest defensively, "Yes. But it doesn't matter. I'm not gonna do anything about it."

"Other than lead him on?"

"Excuse me?"

He chuckles bitterly, "Nice hoodie."

"Don't." I give him a pointed look.

"When did he give it to you? Was it on one of your late night adventures?"

"How did you-?"

"You're not as quiet about leaving as you think you are."

"You're a dick. You know that?"

"I'm not the one playing with my friend's heart. Wearing his clothes, sitting in his lap when you think no one's around, sharing drinks, picking off each other's plates, sharing earbuds, falling asleep on each other, kissing foreheads and cheeks."

The more things he points out, the angrier I get. At myself, of course. Because he's right. This has gone way past unprofessional and I hate that I've let things go this far, knowing full well that we shouldn't be doing any of the things that we do.

"Do you see how this looks? Frankly, you and Shawn are lucky Andrew hasn't said anything to you guys yet."

"It won't get to that point," I mumble, shifting uncomfortably in my seat, suddenly too hot in Shawn's hoodie.

"I hope not, because I would hate to see you lose your job because you let your feelings get in the way."

"It won't happen," I say again.

He sighs as he watches me shrug out of Shawn's youth hoodie. "I'm not doing this to be mean, y/n. You know I love and care about you. That's why I'm saying this. I don't want to see you or Shawn get hurt."

I nod, "I know." I clear my throat. "I'm gonna go to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

"Y/n."

I sigh and turn back to face him, "Yeah?"

"You know I love you, right?"

I chew the inside of my cheek and stand up, fixing my shirt. "Yep." I grab my laptop and go to the bunks where I fully intend to cry myself to sleep.

---

The tears fall silently once I'm settled in my bunk. Thinking about how much Shawn and I are jeopardizing not only our professional relationship, but our friendship too. I can't be wearing his clothes like it's nothing.

I walk out of the bathroom, freshly showered and the boys all turn to me, Shawn's eyes stay locked on me longer than Brian's or Connor's. And there's no masking the big smile on his face.

"What?" I ask quietly, sitting next to him.

"Nothing, nothing. You just look cozy, that's all." He pulls gently at the strings and boops my nose.

I scrunch up my face and get comfortable in my spot, legs underneath me as I scroll through Instagram.

And I wish I didn't know what Connor was referring to when he said I can't be sitting in Shawn's lap.

But we really did think we were the only ones in the room.

We're in his dressing room and Shawn's pulling his pinky ring on and off his finger over and over again, barely breathing, but letting out a loud sigh when he realizes how long it's been since he last took in air. It's hard to take pictures of him when he's like this. Anxious and fidgety. So I put my camera beside me and take his hands in mine, knowing that physical contact is always what helps calm him down. It didn't take a genius to figure that out.

"What's wrong, bub?"

He exhaled deeply, letting go of my hands only to place his on my hips, pulling me down to his lap. "I don't know. I just can't think straight." His head leans forward, resting against my chest.

I wrap one arm around the back of his neck and tug softly on the curls on the back of his neck. "Well what are you thinking about?"

After a few seconds of silence, I can hear him mumble into my shirt. "Sound check was a disaster. And I haven't been able to reach my mom all day. My sister went on a date and I swear to god, I will kill that boy if he tries anything with her. And I really miss my dad because he's always telling me that it'll all be alright." He pick his head up, "and have you noticed that Connor's always staring at us when we're together? It's like he has some type of radar up when we're near each other. And he like… doesn't stop until one of us leaves. It's weird right?"

I let out a nervous chuckle, "wow, you weren't kidding when you said you were everywhere."

"Y/n."

"Shh… just close your eyes." I tilt his head back a little bit and get off his lap. He protests though and brings me back, this time straddling him, eyes still closed. I know I should, but I don't fight him on it. "Okay, I'm gonna do this thing my mom used to do when I felt restless as a kid. Just focus on my voice, okay?"

He nods, his hands resting firmly on my hips, keeping me safe against him.

And it's not like we intended to share drinks! We just both ended up getting something the other person liked.

"What'd you get?" Shawn asks, taking a sip of his smoothie, his nose wrinkling a bit after he swallows.

"They said it's piña colada. But all I'm getting is the pineapple. What'd you get?"

"Strawberry kiwi."

"But don't you hate kiwi?" I ask, taking another sip of my drink."

"I'm trying something new. Sue me."

I laugh when he coughs after a large gulp. "You don't like it, do you?"

He shakes his head, a sheepish grin on his face.

"Want to try mine?"

"Sure," he says and we switch cups. He hums in content, holding the cup just far enough from his face to stare at it the way people apparently do when they try something they like. "This is really good." He drinks a little more and I take the opportunity to try his - which, by the way, I like a lot more.

"If you want it, you can have it," I manage to say with a little smoothie still in my mouth.

"You sure?"

I nod, "I happen to like yours more too."

He just laughs and holds the cup out for us to cheers. I smile knowing I can't deny him. He makes it a point to shout out "Clink!" when our paper cups touch.

"I swear you're six years old," I mumble into the straw.

He mocks a pained expression, hand over his heart. "I am hurt. Truly devastated that you think so little of me."

I shove his shoulder, shaking my head, "Shut up!"

And until Connor brought it up, I didn't think there was anything wrong with the way Shawn and I picked food off each other's plate. We like the same food, it's not like Brian wasn't stealing fries from my plate too. What? Was I suddenly trying to get with him as well?

"Shawn, turn your face to the side real quick," I say, holding my camera up to my eye. He's stuffing an overly ranch covered fry in his mouth, but turns anyway and just as I hear the shutter sound, I reach across the table and steal a fry myself.

"I saw that," he says with a smirk.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I respond, covering my mouth as I swallow.

"You have your own fries, you know?"

"Ah, yes. But mine are cute and curly, like your hair. While yours are straight and normal, which, if you ask me, always taste better when they're not yours."

"I think all fries taste better when they're not yours. Let's test it, shall we?" He hands me another fry from his plate and takes two from mine. He's nodding before he even puts them in his mouth. "Yep, definitely confirmed."

"Don't talk with your mouth full," I scold him.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," he mimics, hands on his hips as if trying to recreate one of the many spongebob memes that have surfaced over the past couple years.

I'm quick to snap a picture of his figure and can't help but laugh out loud when it pops up on my screen.

"You know, I think it's you that makes everything better." He says seriously after I put my camera back down.

"What are you talking about?" I reach for his plate again and he doesn't even try to fight me, doesn't look down at my hand. He's just staring at my face, taking everything in. I suddenly become self conscious under the impromptu surveying he's doing and turn my face away from him to chew.

"Jesus Christ, your beautiful." I don't think he meant for me to hear that, so I pretend that I don't.

And for sure, sharing earbuds isn't flirtatious, right? Connor's just making a big deal out of nothing, trying to make me question everything I do around Shawn as if we aren't functioning adults who can make our own decisions… and mistakes.

"What are you listening to?" Shawn plops down beside me, hair wet from his shower only minutes ago.

"Dive," I mumble, scribbling a couple of sentences down.

"By Ed?"

I only respond with a soft yes because I'm on a roll with the story I'm writing and I know if I stop not I don't get that flow back.

"Can I listen too?"

I take out one earbud and hand it to him, never looking up from my piece of paper. Out of the corner of my eye. I can see him bobbing his head, and since one ear is now free to listen to the world outside of the music in my head, I can hear him tapping the table to the beat.

"Don't tell me you need me… if you don't believe it," he sings to me, holding his hand out to me, like a microphone.

I roll my eyes, but hold onto his hand ready to sing the next line. "Let me know the truth… before I dive right into you."

"I could fall, or I could fly. Here in your aeroplane."

"I could live, I could die, hanging on to words you say."

"I've been known to give my own, sitting back looking at every mess that I've made."

"So don't call me baby… unless you mean it."

We continue alternating lines until the song ends and we have stupid grins on our face despite the judging stares from Mike and Zubin.

I'm smiling like a child when Imagination comes on next and watch as Shawn grows increasingly more red. So I start singing to him.

"I keep craving, craving you. Don't know it,but it's true. Can't get my mouth to say the words they want to say to you."

He's shaking his head and takes out the earbud. I don't stop though. I sing the song, in its entirety to him, laughing continuously through every verse.

I wipe at my, no doubt, puffy eyes and turn on my side, facing say from the curtain.

Falling asleep was never the intention. I fully intended on removing myself from him once the coffee started to kick in. But the coffee never did do that. And I felt myself drifting faster and faster. It wasn't until we were at the radio station that felt a soft pair of lips on my hairline, peppering the skin with gentle, almost nonexistent kisses. "Mea vita, time to wake up, y/n/n."

I grumble softly, lifting my head just enough to rest my forehead on his. Without so much as a second thought, I press a kiss to his cheek, smiling sleepily. "Thanks for being my pillow," I murmur.

He brushes a strand of hair from my face. "Anytime."

I nudge his cheek with my nose, still half asleep, choosing to ignore that gnawing feeling in my stomach that is telling me that this is wrong. Dangerous, even, for our friendship. "Let's get to work, my cute little rockstar."

I sigh deeply. I'm gone for him. Completely. And its gonna hurt like a motherfucker when this spark - that is currently burning like a wildfire inside me - dissipates, leaving nothing but debris and loss in its wake.

***

Tags: @curlyshawny @shawns-badreputation @bbellbagel @anamariel2301 @turtoix @tomshufflepuff @ivegotparticulartaste @dino-16-avocado

PWY tags: @lifeoftheparty74 @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @alinaxxshawn @rosesfromcth @bodacious-5sos @sweetheartmendes

I hope you guys are enjoying it to far! From now on PWY is updating twice a week! I hope you're ready for this mess.

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[shawnpetermuffins]

Pictured with You (x.)

A/n: yo, I know I said I was done with the angst, but like I fully didn't intend for this chapter to go this way. AND IT WASNT UNTIL I FINISHED THIS CHAPTER THAT I REMEMBERED IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE IN SHAWN'S POV. I'M DUMB, BUT I WAS ALSO TOO LAZY TO CHANGE IT. Also, sorry in advance for ch. 11, which will also be angsty.

Summary: everything was fine. Or it should have been. Guess y/n and Shawn just can't catch a break.

Warnings: ANGST, but also a little fluff

Word count: 2.5k

***

My breathing finally slows after nearly thirty minutes of uncontrollable sobs that Shawn somehow manages to hold me through. His back is against the tub, and mine against his chest, seeing as this was the only way he could hold me without me fighting him. I'm playing with his long fingers and he let's me, knowing I need the distraction before I breakdown again.

"Your ring is pretty," I say, barely above a whisper.

He hums with a gentle kiss on the crown of my head before he slips it off. "Give me your hand," he requests, voice still muffled by my hair, which has to be tickling his nose. I don't know how he's stayed in this position for so long. I hold my hand out for him and he pushes the ring gently on my middle finger, then brings my hand to his lips, and presses a gentle kiss to the band. "Looks good on you."

I can't help but smile at the small compliment, but I turn back, looking into his beautiful, memorizing eyes that hold that honey hue in the bright bathroom. "Hey, rockstar?"

"Hmm?" He brushes a strand of hair away from my face, looking intently in my eyes.

"I'm sorry this happened." My eyes avert to the pregnancy test sitting beside us. "I know this is completely stressful for you. I shouldn't have brought you into this."

He shakes his head, "don't do that." He sighs, hand running through his fluffy curls. "Don't pretend that you needed to do this alone. You had every right to tell me." He picks up the test with, what I can only take as a relieved sigh. "And now we know. We have nothing to worry about."

I nod, staring gratefully at the negative test in his large hand. "Yeah. We got lucky."

"We did. So we'll just be more careful next time," he says with a smirk, nudging my cheek with his nose. "I'll wear two condoms," he jokes.

I want to laugh, I really do. "Shawn…"

A frown sets deep in his face. "What's wrong?"

I lick my lips and run my thumb over his clenched jaw. "You know we can't do this again, right?"

"Why not?" He pulls back, clearly frustrated. "Y/n, we have feelings for each other. Mine aren't just gonna go away like that."

"I'm not saying they have to. We just… we can't do this on tour. It's not right."

"It feels right."

I can't deny that. It does. It feels right and comfortable being with him. But it's not easy. It can never be easy with our chosen careers. "We both have jobs to do. This is my job, Shawn. Traveling and taking pictures. That's what I'm paid to do."

"And being able to sleep with me should be an extra bonus." He tries to joke, but his tone is laced with bitterness.

I deflate. "What if I promise you someday?"

"Someday?"

"Can we just… can we wait until tour is over to try this? I want it to be something real. Not you wanting me because I'm your age and I'm right here and it's easy for you."

"That's never what it is."

I swallow the lump in my throat. "Then we'll wait the six months?"

He smiles lazily at me. "We'll wait the six months."

I hold my pinky out to him, "friends?"

"Friends," he locks our fingers. "For now at least," he replies with a wicked grin.

I can only smile back. "You're something else, Mendes."

"You're everything," he whispers, and I glare at him, even though the blush on my cheeks betrays what I should be conveying, which is annoyance.

"Friends don't say that to each other."

He nods grimly, "I know. Just… had to get it out of my system."

I hum, "well if we're getting things out of our system," I take his face in my hands and press my lips to his. And like he's starved for it, he deepens the kiss, arms wrapping around my middle, bringing me impossibly closer to his hoodie covered upper body.

"Can friends sleep in the same bed?" he asks against my lips, fully out of breath, but leaning in again before I can answer.

I manage to pull away seconds later though, replacing my mouth with my fingertips, which he doesn't hesitate to pepper with tiny kisses. "They can if that's all they do."

"Promise." He's moved to my cheeks now, kissing each side, then my forehead, and eyelids and nose. And I'm a giggling mess, but I don't ask him to stop. I don't want him to. I let him continue until he's on top of me, laughing against my neck and we're both just intensely giddy and tired at the same time. When we've both caught our breath, he rests his head on my chest and I run my fingers lazily through his hair. "We should go to sleep," he mumbles. "We have to be up in three hours." He lifts himself from the ground and dusts himself off.

I groan, "Oh goodie."

"Come on, y/n." Shawn holds his hands out for me and I place my palms in his, allowing him to help me to my feet. "Let's get you to bed.

---

"You feeling better?" Connor asks at breakfast, voice low enough that only I can hear.

I nod, "Yeah. It was definitely just a twenty-four hour thing."

I watch his shoulders visibly relax. "Thank God. Did you take a test? Does he know?"

"Con, I don't want to talk about this."

"Well, you're sitting together again. I'm assuming you talked after I left."

I roll my eyes and grab his arm. "Excuse us," I say to the table, which is just Shawn and Brian. I take him to a secluded corner and cross my arms over my chest. "Okay, we need boundaries."

He laughs, "What?"

"Boundaries? Ever heard of them?"

"Of course I have. However, I didn't know our friendship had those."

"That's very clear."

He frowns, "What is going on with you today? You're not pregnant. You on your period or something? You shouldn't be. That's usually the end of the month, right?"

"See? That. That's why we need boundaries!"

"Y/n, we've been friends since we were kids. Of course I know when your period is."

"That's not what I'm concerned about!"

"Then what is it?"

"I don't want to talk to you about the status of my relationship with Shawn anymore."

Connor rolls his eyes, "You're kidding."

"Does it look like I'm kidding?" I challenge. But he's not intimidated. He never has been.

"Why is he suddenly off limits then?" He crosses his arms too, and rolls his head back before glaring at me sideways.

"This isn't your relationship," I say simply. "You and I have always been friends, and then we were more than that for a little bit. And you've always looked out for me. I get that. I really do. I am grateful for it. But at some point, you're going to have to let me make the mistakes I'm supposed to make. And you have to let me see for myself if Shawn and I will work out. You can't just… insert yourself before anything happens."

"I'm just trying to make sure you don't get hurt."

"I'm not fragile, Con! I'm just as capable of hurting him, you know." I lift my arms in exaggeration. "I'm not going to break at the slightest thing. I am a big girl and I can take care of myself. So this is the last time we talk about this. Shawn and I agreed to stay friends - just friends- the remainder of the tour. And then, if we still want each other the same way, we'll try dating when we get back home. But this is it. I don't want to talk about this with you because you make it so hard. Just… let me be me, okay?"

He looks down, defeated. "Okay. No more Shawn talk." He sighs and holds his palm out, expecting a high five. "Still best friends?" He asks with a lopsided smile.

I ignore his hand and embrace him warmly. "Always."

---

It's been a few days since our late night drug store adventure, and Shawn and I are in his dressing room, scrolling through some of the photos I had taken of him when we were out sightseeing earlier in the day when Andrew walks in, seemingly pissed, followed by Cez who doesn't seem to be any happier.

"What's this?" Andrew shoves his phone in front of Shawn's face and he squinted at the sudden, close brightness. But I'm far enough away to see it perfectly clear.

It's a photo. Of me in his red hoodie, hands in the large pocket, and his arm wrapped around my shoulders, lips pressed to my temple. We're walking out of the drug store, so much closer than we should have been, I know. I knew it then too, but it's hard to tell his boy no. I look away from the phone, too stunned that someone saw us that late at night. That they took that photo. That it's now probably on every social media sight and everyone could be speculating right now.

"I can explain," Shawn starts to defend himself - us - before Andrew interrupts him.

"So not only did they catch you kissing her, but you also went out, ALONE, without telling somebody. Shawn, I don't care what time it is, we need to know where you are at all times because we can't risk you getting mobbed by fans."

He goes to speak again, but now Cez is yelling. "What were you even doing at a twenty-four hour drugstore? You couldn't have gotten what you needed down in the lobby? You had to leave after midnight to get something? What was so important that it couldn't wait?"

"It's my fault," I speak up because I can't let Shawn get blamed for this. "I wasn't feeling good and I needed to get medicine. I'd checked the lobby when we got back, but they didn't have what I needed." I swallow the lump in my throat, "Shawn just went to make sure I didn't get lost or something. It was all me."

"Y/n, no it wasn't." Shawn says, obviously bewildered as to why I felt the need to lie for him. "Don't fucking lie for me." He turns back to the two grown, fairly angry men standing over us. "It was me. She didn't want to go. I made her. Okay? I'm sorry I left without telling you, but seriously? I'm twenty-two fucking years old. Let me breathe a little." He stands up, towering over Andrew. I don't think I've ever seen him look so intimidating… and frankly, quite hot. (But I shouldn't be thinking that because we're just friends and friends don't say that about each other.)

But Andrew doesn't back down. "Look, I don't care why you were out. You can't leave without security. And you can't be seen with a girlfriend right now."

"No, Andrew," I stand from my place on the couch. "We're not - I'm not his girlfriend."

Just as Andrew says, "That makes it even harder to explain." Shawn grumbles, "Yeah, made damn sure of that, didn't you?"

I don't pay his manager any attention now, because all I can do is stare painfully at the tall man standing next to me. "Are you serious? You're really going to say that shit right now?"

"What's going on?" I hear Brian whisper to Cez, but I'm too angry and hurt by Shawn's words that I can't be bothered to look in their direction. Andrew seems to have dropped his outwardly upset demeanor because I can feel him eyeing Shawn and then me, back and forth, nervously.

"Y/n."

"I told you to give me six months! I wanted to avoid all of this!" I exclaim, gesturing to the room that's now pretty much full of everyone wanting to watch this shitshow. "But you just can't handle being told no, can you?"

"Hey," he puts an arm out to reach for me, but I pull away instantly. "Y/n, that's not what this is."

"I get it. You're Shawn Mendes. You're known all around the world and any woman in their right mind would drop to their knees to be with you. But I've seen, first hand, what your lifestyle entails. And I'll be honest, whether I like you or not, I don't know if I can be in it. Especially not if it's going to lead to this every single time." I push past the crew in this now crowded room, bumping shoulders with Connor, who reaches for my wrist.

He gives me a look that rests somewhere between sympathetic and 'I told you so.' I scoff and keep walking until I round the corner a couple hundred feet away.

I'm wiping at my fallen tears when I hear the unmistakable voice of my curly head boy, only this time he holds so much contempt. "Fucking hell! Can I not deal with just one thing on my own?! One thing where I don't have 100 different people watching and telling me what to do?! Just leave me alone!" His hard footsteps sound from down the hall. And then they stop, and his voice catches me off guard.

"Y/n, I'm sorry!" He yells from wherever he is. "Please come talk to me." He's closer now, each step heavier than the last. He sighs in relief when he finds me. "There you are."

I shake my head, "Shawn, no."

"Just let me apologize. Okay? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't," he takes another deep breath. "I didn't mean for that to come out. Especially not the way it did."

"You don't want to wait, Shawn. And I can't be with you right now. What are we supposed to do about this? I begged you to give me time. You said you would give me that. But it's obvious that that's not good enough for you."

"No, honey. It's enough. I swear it is. Andrew just drives me crazy and I said things I didn't mean."

"You and I both know… some part of you believes what you said. We're too different, bub. It's never gonna work out with us. I think, even if we deny it like there's no tomorrow, we know that." I cup one side of his face and he falls into my touch, placing a kiss to my wrist. "It's best if we just kept it professional from now on."

His eyes are glassy, "But-"

"I'm your photographer. Nothing more."

"We can't even be friends anymore?"

I deflate, "We were kidding ourselves thinking we could ever be just friends after that night." I pat his chest and make my way around him, back to the dressing room to get my camera. The room is still crowded, everyone stops in their tracks when they see me. I roll my eyes; this is all so high school, the way everything is being handled. I look up, annoyed, my camera strap around my neck. "Don't we have sound check to get to?"

Andrew clears his throat, "y/n."

I hold my hand up, "Don't worry, Andrew. His precious reputation will stay in tact. Excuse me," I leave the room in a hurry, passing a series of dumbfounded faces on my way to the stage.

***

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[shawnpetermuffins]

Pictured with You (viii.)

A/n: please don't hate me for this. I swear it'll get better.

Summary: noticable tension and... sick days?

Warnings: do I even need to warn about angst anymore? I mean, its me we're talking about. Of course it's angst. But also not really.

Word count: 2.2k

***

We're never alone anymore. Haven't been in weeks. It's strictly professional, like it was always supposed to be. But it's killing me slowly not talking anymore. That was always the fun part of this, but I not only ruined any future prospect of us bring linked romantically, but now we're barely even friends. That's what hurts more than anything. Because the things I couldn't tell Connor were things I could tell Shawn and he'd be more than willing to listen to me go on and on about whatever. And Connor listens, of course he does, but he's bluntly honest and sometimes a little overly judgemental. He's always been the rational one in our friendship, while I go and mostly make things a bigger deal than they need to be. I love having him, but I miss how easy it was with Shawn. But every time I think I've built up the courage to talk to him about that night, talk to him about us, I chicken out at the last second.

We're all lounging around the green room, a few of the band members playing their imaginary instruments, going through the chords they've played at least a hundred times before just to be super sure they have it. I snap a photo or two of Shawn fiddling with his inears. They're a little tangled with the collar of his shirt and I have half a mind to go over and help him. So I do, without thinking about it, somehow forgetting that we haven't talked in weeks. That we haven't been this close to each other in weeks. That he probably doesn't even want me anywhere near him after I just left him without warning - like so many girls before me have done. (I thought they were idiots to leave this precious man alone after only a night with him. They were, but somehow I'm one too, now.) Which is probably why his body tenses ever so slightly when he feels my fingers on the back of his neck, untangling the tiny wires.

"Sorry," I say so low I think he can't possibly hear me.

But he mumbles out a soft "thanks" and looks down at himself, debating with himself whether or not he should unbutton his shirt a little more, exposing the black undershirt and the chest hair that peaks through that top. He buttons and unbuttons the same button three times while I stay standing there.

"Leave it unbuttoned," I mutter. "The fans go crazy for it."

He doesn't respond, only looks in the full length mirror that is currently reflecting his tall frame and my shorter one, and finally unbuttoned the shirt one more time, leaving it at that with a single pop of his collar.

My breath catches as I remember leaving marks all up and down his torso, more toward his waist though, knowing just how big the story would be if the fans saw hickeys around his chest and neck. That didn't stop him from leaving them all across me though. I swallow harshly, pushing the thought away as I walk to the other side of the room where my camera bag is sitting. I take out one of my other lenses, trying to decide which one I want more. The one I was using now took the greatest portraits, but the other caught the details in the background, with its wider angle. I'm mulling it over when I the light beside me shifts a little.

I turn my head to see Mike smiling warmly at me. "Hey," I say, switching out the lenses.

"Hey." He just stands there while I take a few test shots around the room.

"Need something?" I ask when he still hasn't said anything.

"Do you have a second to talk?"

I shrug, "Sure. What's up?"

"No, not here. Follow me?"

I furrow my brows but promptly follow anyway. We stand just outside the dressing room, but far enough from the door that you couldn't hear us unless you were literally standing in the doorway - or you know, if there wasn't nearly 50,000 people screaming lyrics back to Shawn's opening act. "Mike, is everything okay?"

"That's what I was just about to ask you."

"What?"

"You look like you need to talk to somebody. And the guys and I have noticed a little bit of… I don't know, tension between you and Shawn lately."

I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to think of anything to explain why he's noticed and why we're being weird. "It's nothing. We got in a fight. It was stupid."

"Well, it can't be that stupid if it has you guys avoiding each other for three weeks. Did something happen?"

"Mike," I plead, not wanting to tell him the intimate details of my one night with Shawn. "Look, don't worry about it. I'm sure we'll be back to normal in a few days." If I could stop being so goddamn terrified of talking to him. "We're just both too stubborn for our own good."

"Are you sure? Because you can tell me. I'm not gonna go out and tell anyone. I'm just worried about you."

I shake my head, "No. Really, we're fine."

"Just a lover's spat, right?" He questions with a smirk.

I let out a nervous laugh, "something like that, I guess."

"Hey," he pats my shoulder sympathetically, "It'll get better. You guys will make up. I'm sure of it."

"Yeah, thanks."

"And I mean, you're bound to have a few fights here and there. It's hard being with a person twenty-four/seven for months on end. Especially a significant other. And when the relationship is still so new?" He shakes his head, "But you guys will come out of it even stronger. I can tell just by the way you look at each other."

I furrow my brows, mostly because he thinks we're together. "How do we look at each other?" I ask timidly.

"Like you're the only two in the room." With a chuckle he adds, "sometimes it seems like you want nothing more than for that to be true."

I swallow hard because right now more than ever, I do wish it was true.

---

Shawn literally goes on in less than five minutes, and even though I've been there for dozens of shows already, I feel suddenly really nervous, nauseous actually. Like extremely nauseous. The whole crew is walking toward the stage, but I'm steps behind them all, growing slower by the second as my stomach turns over again and again. We are just passing the bathrooms when I run into the women's room, barely making it into a stall in time to spill my guts. I cough a few times, finally standing up. I try to be as quick as possible because the crowd is getting louder and I can hear Mike on the drums. I rinse my mouth out, grab my camera from the sink and book it to the main stage, practically running into Andrew on the way.

"Where were you?" He asks, but he doesn't seem mad, more concerned. He definitely noticed how pale I looked, just like I noticed in the terrible bathroom lighting. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," I mumble. "Just forgot my extra memory card. But we're good."

"Y/n," he catches my arm before I can walk away. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm good," I nod and he finally lets me go, just in time to catch Shawn walking onto the stage, the crowd becoming deafening.

"Where were you?" Connor yells in my ear after the first song is over.

"I got sick," I say back, bringing my camera up to my eyes.

"Again?"

I shrug. No, this isn't the first time today that I've thrown up. It's actually the third, but the only person who knows that is Connor, and that's because he was with me when it happened the first two times. I don't think much of it, even though I probably should. I don't get sick often, rarely ever, if I'm being honest. And I especially don't get sick to the point where I'm throwing up. I'm assuming it's just my body's way of finally rejecting all the steady travel I've been doing.

Different time zones every other day, different food, different weather - one day it's hot, the next I need three jackets to provide me even the slightest amount warmth. It's got to be that. There's nothing else I could possibly think of that would have me feeling this sick. Except for one thing…

Please god, don't let it be that. Let it be absolutely anything else in the world but that.

---

Connor follows me to my room after the show and I plop against the cool pillows without any thought at all. But I feel his eyes on my aching body.

"What?" I groan, sparing him a glance through my hooded eyes.

"You've gotten sick a lot today."

I hum, "I'm fine. It's probably just a stomach bug."

"Could be that," he nods and sits down next to me. "Or it could be something else."

My body stiffens at the thought. "Connor-"

"You're pregnant, aren't you?"

I let out a broken sob, covering my face. "I don't know."

"Y/n… how could you be so careless?"

"I wasn't! We were safe!" I say, removing my hands from my face dramatically.

"Clearly not safe enough if you might be pregnant."

"Stop saying that. I'm not!"

"You don't know that, though. That's the problem. That you don't know. This could be really bad for you, and Shawn! Your careers are literally at their peaks. You can't have a baby right now."

"You think I don't know that? You think I want to raise a baby on my own at twenty-one?"

He frowns, "what makes you think you'd raise the baby alone?"

I only glare at him. "Really? A twenty-two year old rockstar, who can literally have any girl in the fucking world, is going to settle for his knocked up tour photographer. Think about that for a minute, Con. That type of thing doesn't happen in real life. That's movie stuff."

"He'd be a great dad, you know." He says it softly, mostly to himself.

"I know," I sigh. "But not now. I can't spring this on him now. Especially not when we haven't really spoken to each other in weeks."

"You have to tell him."

"Not if there's nothing to tell. And why are you all of a sudden on his side? Every chance you get you're telling me that he and I can't be more than friends. What's this 'he'd be a good dad. You have to tell him'?"

He just shrugs, "despite everything that I tell you, I really do like Shawn as a person. I tell you all these things because I don't want to see you get hurt. He's gone so much and whether you like to admit it or not, you need attention."

I gape at him and slap his arm, "I'm not an attention whore!"

"That's not what I mean," he laughs. "I just mean, with him being gone like 10 months out of the year, you're not gonna get the attention that's needed in a relationship. You'll feel left out. He'll feel bad for not being with you more. You'll both be miserable. And I'd hate for that to be the case."

"And what would that mean for… this hypothetical baby?" I ask, putting my hand on my stomach.

It takes him a while to say anything, "I think he'd stop for that. I think he would do everything he could to be a part of the baby's life. But a girlfriend is a different priority than a baby is, y/n. He doesn't have to stop for a girlfriend. But he would for a baby. Especially because you know he wants kids. He wants to give them the world and he'll stop at nothing until he does just that."

I don't say it, but I know he'd do the same for a girlfriend. Maybe not stop touring, but I have first hand experience on what he would be like as a boyfriend. Attentive and sweet and cautious and aware. He does all the things Connor says he won't be able to, and that's what makes it so hard for me to back away from this.

---

After another agonizingly long hour of discussing what I should or shouldn't do, Connor finally leaves the room. I let out a deep breath and close my eyes, leaning against the door. This whole night was too much, first with Mike and then Connor. Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't girls claim to have guy friends because there's less drama?

My phone buzzes from my nightstand where I put it to charge only minutes ago. I roll my eyes, still standing at the door, and I wait there for a good three minutes before I make my way over.

Shawn's name lights up my screen and my heart falls into my stomach. I gulp as I read the text over and over at least three times.

We need to talk

I pray to God that it's not as bad as I'm anticipating. But then I remember what I might have to tell him and I know it will be.

Yeah we do. My room, 10 minutes?

How about 5?

Ok…

And just as I throw my phone down on the bed, another wave of nausea hits me. Jesus Christ, please don't let me be pregnant.

***

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PWY TAG: @lifeoftheparty74 @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @alinaxxshawn @rosesfromcth @5-seconds-of-mendes @sweetheartmendes @queensdimple @strangerliaa @xoxohannahlee @thenovarose

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[shawnpetermuffins]

Pictured with You (iv.)

A/n: I got super excited writing this let me just tell you.

Summary: Shawn gets a little too excited after a show and Andrew has to pull him aside before things go too far

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.9k a little shorter than the last 2 sorry

***

This show is insane! The energy of the arena is almost tangible, it's so amazing. I've never felt so at peace while at the same time so off the walls. If I knew I wouldn't break anything, I would probably jump off stage and into the crowd, or maybe do a backflip. But we all know I physically can't do that. And after what happened last time I jumped off a stage, I'd like to refrain from becoming a meme again.

And y/n is definitely feeling it too, because every time I throw a glance her way, she's smiling, even when she's holding the camera up to her face, snapping pictures of me and then the crowd too. I'm grateful that she does that, it's always fun to look back on when I'm on break, missing the tour life. I asked her one night, early on during tour, why she does that.

"I did yearbook in high school. My teacher was all about candids and reactions. Especially during games and stuff, she wanted to have crowd reactions. I think I just found a special kind of appreciation for them. And now it's just something I always get; it's second nature. She's really the reason I fell so in love with photography."

I thought it was cute that she started doing what she does because of her yearbook teacher. The idea of it just fills me with happiness, because she's told me before how much she struggled emotionally in school and it makes my heart happy to know that she found her escape.

And I can hardly take my eyes off her during my - what the fans love to call - emotionally raw performance of Why. But if she noticed, she doesn't show it. She's in work mode, and I should be too. But I mean every word spilling from my lips.

We want each other, no one will break first.

I wish that I could tell you that you're all that I want.

The post show adrenaline is one I wish I could have contained. But I'm still bouncing around to release what's still left in me while we all gather in the green room. The band is buzzing, talking about how great Zubin's solo was or how Mike absolutely killed it with the intro. But I'm not talking. My eyes are focused on the door. Brian and Cez walk in and clap my shoulders.

"Bro, that was amazing! You fucking killed it out there!" Brian squeezes my shoulders and I manage to smile widely at him.

"Thanks, man. It was… better than any show I've ever done." But I don't say anything after that because I'm waiting for y/n. Ready to engulf her in my sweaty embrace that she claims she hates, but I know she secretly loves. But she's taking so long to get back here. She's usually one of the first because she fully follows me to get more photos. But I'm looking around and the two people missing are her… and Connor.

I know I shouldn't think anything of it because she's not mine - she's her own person and she can do whatever she wants. But my mind still betrays me thinking of all the things that she and Connor could have done before this tour - what they still could be doing. And I think that's why I do what I do when she finally enters the room, our friend right behind her.

She smiles when she sees me and instead of just going to wrap my arms around her in the most innocent hug that I could possibly give, because I'm aware for everyone (especially Andrew and Cez) watching our every move, I pick her up and spin her around.

She lets out a surprised squeal, but her arms still enclose around me, her head buried into my neck, covering up her giggles that make me weak. "Well hello to you, too, rockstar. What was that?" She asks when I set her back down, but I don't answer.

I push a strand of hair out of her eyes and hold on to either side of her face. I don't give myself a chance to second guess my actions because within a second my lips are on hers and I'm pulling her closer to my body. She doesn't react at first, but then she's kissing me back and I can feel how awkward it is for her because she's still holding her camera in the hand that's reaching for my sweat glistening bicep. Not to mention everyone's eyes are no doubt on us now, as if they weren't already before.

Neither of us want to pull away and I'm teasing her bottom lip with my tongue when I'm wanked back by the collar of my tank top. Andrew doesn't stop pulling until we're in the dressing room. "What the hell was that?" He asks, slamming the door behind us.

But I'm too focused on the way she felt against me, how soft she was. I'm smiling like an idiot in the mirror, my fingertips tracing my mouth, red and swollen from her lips. "Shawn!"

I, at last, look at him, my smile fading. "What?"

"You said there was nothing going on. You said that nothing would go on. I trusted your judgement on hiring another friend because Brian has worked out so well. But this is unacceptable! You can't be with y/n, she works for you!"

"I'm not with her, Andrew! It was -"

"It was what, Shawn? Because that wasn't a friendly kiss. You two have been flirting like crazy for months. You think I don't know about what happens on the bus? Or about your late night milkshake dates? I saw her wearing your hoodie. This is more than just a friendship, and you know I'm right."

"Don't use my own lyrics against me! I know, what I'm doing, Andrew. Just let it go."

"I can't just 'let it go.' This compromises the entire aspect of tour."

"How?" I throw my hands up, "How does it affect you in any way? It's not your love life!"

"You promised me when we hired her that nothing was going to happen. Do you remember that? We were in my office and before I could even ask you if you had feelings for her you said that nothing was going to happen. Remember?" He pushes his glasses up and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Well now we're three months in you're kissing her in front of everyone! This wasn't just a private thing that happened one night in a hotel room that you can just brush under the rug like nothing happened. You did this in front of the entire team!"

"Okay! I get it!" I run my hands roughly through my hair, "I messed up! Is that what you want to hear? I'm sorry that it happened in front of you, but I'm not sorry I kissed her."

"Shawn."

"I'm not. I wanted to. And if you weren't yelling at me right now, I would kiss her again and again and again." I say, a defiant smirk playing at the corners of my mouth.

He let out a deep breath, "Okay, listen. I understand that it's your life and you can do what you want with it. But let me make myself clear. She works for you. That's what she's here to do. She's not here to work you. But you want to hook up? Fine, hook up. But when this ultimately gets too messy - because you know it will - Don't come to me begging for a new photographer. She's gonna stay and it's going to be the most unpleasant remainder of tour ever. You got that?"

"What happened to 'we don't want to lose another photographer'? Knowing that we won't get rid of her if this happens only makes me want her that much more."

"Jesus Christ." He shakes his head. "You're twenty-two, Shawn. Okay? Think about this. I know being a pop star at a young age kind of cut you off from going and hoeing around. But at this point in the game, you need to decide if you want her just because she's here and it's easy. Or if you want her because you genuinely think your relationship could go somewhere. We've worked so hard on your image and for seven years of work to go down the drain because you can't keep it in your pants? I won't have that. The label won't have that. But you know the second something happens with y/n, the fans will talk. The media will get a hold of it. It'll be everywhere in just days and you won't even have muttered a word about it." He claps my shoulder. "You might be used to them watching your every move, but you're bringing another person into the spotlight, who very clearly loves being behind it. So think about that. Hook up, don't hook up. That's up to you. But do something that's going to benefit both of you. Because I'd hate to see her get hurt."

"What about me?"

Andrew scoffs with a sad smile on his face, "You're the one doing the hurting."

---

I may or may not have been avoiding having to spend too much time alone with y/n this past week. Neither of us have said a word about the kiss, not that I expected her to bring it up anyway.

But just because I haven't been around her, doesn't mean I haven't been watching her. (And no, I don't mean this in a creepy way. I just mean I pay attention. I want to make sure she's doing okay.) She's isolated herself, so it seems. I haven't seen her around Connor as much either, and while it makes me happy to see her finally create some distance from him, I know that the cause of the distance is me and that hurts a little. But what hurts even more is that this morning when I was going through my suitcase to find something to wear, I found that hoodie I let her wear when we got our milkshakes. I hold it up to my nose and sigh loudly; it smells like her - clean with just slightest hint of sweet, vanilla definitely.

My phone buzzes from the bed and I shuffle over to it, still only in my boxers.

Drinks at a bar up the street. You down???

I read over Brian's text three times before responding.

Who's going?

The reply is almost immediate.

Almost everyone. Andrew and Cez are out. Already in bed. Bring y/n?

The thought sends a shiver down my spine. I don't know if she want to talk to me or not, but I'm pulling clothes on as fast as I can. Black jeans - of course - the hoodie I just threw on the bed. And a denim jacket over that.

Give me ten minutes. We'll meet you in the lobby.

I'm rocking back and forth outside her room. With a final deep breath, I knock on the door, my eyes closed. I'm not waiting more than ten seconds before she comes into view, still in her jeans from earlier, but now an old t-shirt swallows her frame. Looking just as beautiful now as she does every time I see her.

"Shawn, what are - what are you doing here?" Her arms cross over her middle, shielding herself, no doubt.

"We're going out for drinks. You coming?"

***

Tags: @curlyshawny @shawns-badreputation @anamariel2301 @turtoix @tomshufflepuff @ivegotparticulartaste @bbellbagel @dino-16-avocado @sleepybesson

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[shawnpetermuffins]

Family Tours

Request by @it-isnt-in-myy-blood: What about Shawn visiting his parents and Aaliyah in Pickering with his wife and daughter and it's all fluff, but also angst because Shawn will soon leave for tour again. And they know how hard the time and the distance will be for them?

A/n: I love dad!Shawn concepts, so I really liked this one

Warnings: a little angst and a little fluff

Word count: 1.2k

***

Watching my daughter play with her aunt is probably the sweetest thing ever. Or at least one of the sweetest things ever. The first most definitely being my wife doing absolutely anything with my mum. Like right now she's helping her cut the vegetables for the burgers while Dad and I are grilling in the backyard. Well… Dad is grilling; I'm keeping him company.

"How long is tour this time?" He asked, flipping a patty.

I took a swig of the beer in my hand and sighed, "four months."

"And what happens after that?"

"After that… I'm done touring for a while. I guess I'll get back in the studio and start on the next album."

"How's y/n handling all of this travelling?"

I smiled sadly, "Y/n's a trooper. She's been through it all with me. But I know it's still hard on Madi. She hasn't grasped the concept of tour, she just asks for Daddy at bedtime, and no matter where I am, I FaceTime, so I can sing her to sleep.." I hummed to myself while I watched my one year old  give Aaliyah one of her dolls to play with. "Y/n puts up with so much. I don't know how i got so lucky in the wife department." I take another sip of my half empty bottle.

"That you did. It's not everyday you find someone who loves you for who are, not what you have. I know you really struggled with that before you found her."

I nodded,  "Thank God I have her though. She's given me the most beautiful family. A better life than I could ever imagine," I said just as she made her way in front of me, a small smile ghosting at her lips. "Hi, pumpkin."

"Hi, rockstar. Sorry to interrupt. Uh, Karen needs you to get something from the top shelf for her."

"You got it." I reached for her hand and she graciously took it, pulling me with her.

---

"You look different," Aaliyah said while I watched her play with Madi. I shifted in my seat, adjusting my shirt, which was clinging to my stomach.

"How so?"

"Kinda glowy. It is a new foundation?"

"No," I shook my head. "Might just be the lighting?"

"I don't know. Last time I saw you this glowy you were pr-" she looked up at me, realization written all over her face. "Oh, my god! Are you-?"

"Shh…" I brought my finger to my lips. "You can't say anything. I haven't even told Shawn."

She's on her feet in a second, arms wrapping around me in a tight hug. "Congratulations," she whispered into my hair while we held each other close.

I sighed, "Thank you."

"I hope it's boy," she said excitedly.

I nodded, "me too."

Shawn entered the room just as we separated ourselves from each other. "There are my favorite girls. Am I interrupting something?" He asked with a slight chuckle when he saw our shocked faces.

"No," I said all too quickly.

He smiled anyway and made his way over to me. Aaliyah ducked down to pick up Madi. He leaned down and kissed my forehead, taking me left hand in his and kissing the ring on my finger. "You hungry?" His eyes stayed locked on mine, but lips didn't leave my skin.

I only hummed in response.

"Dinner's ready."

"Okay." I whispered.

"I'm still here, you know," Aaliyah scolded, causing me to back away from Shawn with a smile.

"You okay?" Shawn asked quietly while we sat outside with his family. I was sitting in his lap, mostly because I wanted to feel close to him, knowing that tour starts in a week and that once I start showing, and getting more and more pregnant, it won't be comfortable for either of us to be this close.

"I have to tell you something," I whispered into his neck.

"Hmm?" He pushed a strand of hair from my face and placed a gentle kiss to my cheek.

"Madi's gonna be a big sister," I said nonchalantly, but still only loud enough for him to hear it. I moved from the crook of his neck to watch our daughter giggle with her grandparents.

"Y/n?" He looked up at me with those big doe like eyes that looked more brown in this low light. "Are you serious?"

I nodded, grinning wide. "We're having a baby."

He laughed and kissed my lips quickly. "We're pregnant!" He couldn't contain his excitement and said it loud enough that everyone heard.

"You're pregnant?" Karen asked, looking away from her granddaughter who was currently in Manny's arms.

I chuckled, "surprise."

---

I couldn't keep my hands off her stomach. Another baby. Another human that we created out of nothing but pure love, was growing inside my wife. This is the most precious gift she could ever give me and I think I've fallen even more in love with her than I was before. (I didn't even think it was possible until she uttered those words to me for the second time in our marriage.)

We were laying in bed as I rubbed soothing circles over her still flat stomach and she shuddered under my touch. "I love you," I mumbled, staring at her profile.

She looked over at me. "I love you, too."

I leaned down and kissed her stomach. "And I love you, my little peanut. You are already so loved. I'm excited to meet you, and watch you grown." But I stopped there when I realized I wouldn't be there these first four months of the pregnancy. I would miss doctor's appointments and morning sickness. I wouldn't get to take a picture of her growing belly every week. "Fuck," I grumbled and pulled away.

"What's wrong?" My wife asked, eyebrows knitted together.

"I can't go on tour."

"What? Shawn, of course you can. And you will."

"No. You're pregnant. I can't- I can't just miss everything."

"Shawn, baby, stop. It's okay. You're not gonna miss anything."

I glared at her, because she knows that's not true. "Yes I will. Do you know how much happened in the first four months of your pregnancy with Madi? I don't want to miss any of that. The cravings, and the mood swings, and the morning sickness. Watching you just barely start to show. I'm gonna miss all of it because I decided I wanted to tour." I ran my fingers through my hair. "It's not fair to you. You're gonna have to go through this all alone."

"Hey," she took my hand. "I'm not doing this alone," she said sitting up, trying to catch my gaze. "Our families are here. Friends. I won't be alone."

"But I'm the dad."

"Oh you are? That's good to know," she tried to lighten the mood. But I wasn't in the mood for jokes.

"I'm supposed to be there," I said seriously.

"And you will. When you get back. It's four months, you'll still have another five to watch him grow."

"Him?" I asked with a smile.

"Liyah and I think it'll be a boy," she said with a shrug.

"You won't find that out until I get back, right?"

She shook her head, "we can find out together."

I hummed, pressing my forehead against hers. Knowing that made me feel a little better. "Good. Good."

We stayed this way for a few minutes before Madi's cries filled the house.

"I got her," I said and pressed a gentle kiss to y/n's lips.

"Hey, Shawn?" She said when I was almost out the door.

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

I couldn't help the blush that flooded my face, "I love you, too."

***

Tags: @curlyshawny @shawns-badreputation @bbellbagel @anamariel2301 @turtoix @tomshufflepuff @ivegotparticulartaste

This was kinda anticlimactic, but I still really adored this.

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