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salemshotspot · 9 months ago

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HOW DOLLS SHOULD BE TREATED

Shawn Michaels x Reader

Kind Of A Song Fic If You Squint?

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

DESC: Shawn helps the reader out when she can’t record to moans for his song as well as he knows she can

Female Reader [She/Her]

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ MDNI//Slight Choking//Implied Possessive Behaviour//Age Gap//Not Proof Read

RED >> Song lyrics

A/N >> NOT GREAT BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY

TAGS: @dilfs-4life

Enjoy!

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Y/n couldn’t believe her luck, she had grown up both watching and loving wrestling. Y/n was a semi-successful vocalist who was mostly well known for her work with the wwe; remastering a great deal of wrestler's theme songs with a contemporary twist

Y/n was having an uneventful day, it was her first day off work in a while, although it was uneventful she appreciated being able to rest after a busy few weeks. However this rest did not last long, y/n’s phone mockingly lit up with an email notification causing y/n to sigh as she realised it was from no other than the head of the creative team at the wwe; y/n's boss.

‘Hey y/n,

I’m writing to inform you we are remastering a song for a wrestler’s return [who cannot be revealed as of yet as his return has not been released to the public] and he has requested you by name to work on the song. Your vocals will only be backing vocals compared to your usual main track vocals so please come to my office before the end of the day in order to discuss if you’d want the role and what it would entail both job and pay wise.

-the wwe creative team.’

Y/n stares at her phone in disbelief, not only was a big time wrestler returning, causing her to become excited as a long time fan of the sport, but they paid enough attention to her work that they wanted her out of everyone to work on their song? Although she was determined to enjoy her day off, y/n practically jumped out of her seat and began getting ready to go into work, even if she didn’t want the job there was no harm in turning up and hearing them out right? Worst case scenario she doesn’t take the job but finds out which wrestler is returning to the sport.

Once y/n makes her way into work her boss spotted her and pulled her into their office and invited her to sit down and began explaining what they had already said in the email but they began sensing the idea of disinterest towards the job from y/n which is confirmed when she began speaking.

‘I’ll be straight with you boss' she begins ‘in not sure this job is right for me, I’ve only just gotten time off and I want to take advantage of tha-‘ but her boss cuts her off with a devilish smile.

'Before you say no to the job’ they say picking up the phone and telling somebody on the line to ‘send him in’ ‘at least hear the man out who so desperately wanted you for the job.’

Y/n’s mind began to race theorising who could be coming in, could it be a beloved wrestler from the attitude era like Steve Austin, wanting to have a final run, wanting to add vocals to his song to appeal to fans or could it be a more modern wrestler who had been out due to injury for a while like CM Punk, finally ready for his return?

It was while she was theorising as to which wrestler it could possibly be that none other than Shawn Michaels, The Heartbreak Kid, entered the room and sat down in the chair opposite y/n. Once y/n locked eyes with Shawn her eyes widened as she was flooded with emotions; starstruck didn’t even begin to cover it.

Shawn cleared his throat, pulling y/n out of her trance; ‘it’s great to finally meet you y/n’ he says smiling warmly, ‘I was really looking forward working with you, I was thinking we could go into the recording room and have a practice run.’ Y/n began to protest as a wave of unexpected anxiety washed over her being face to face with a wrestler she grew up watching, she grew up fantasising about- ‘y/n?’ Shawn questioned, causing y/n to blush softly.

Y/n took a deep breath to compose herself and smiled at the man across from her, ‘ok, sure, we can have a test run but I’m not promising anything’ she says in an anxious yet teasing manner as both herself and Shawn made their way to the recording room after promising the creative director they will both be back in the office within the hour with y/n's answer about whether or not she is going to take the job.

Shawn closed the soundproof door of the recording room gently behind the two of them and motioned for the younger woman to sit down in one of the many chairs in the room. As y/n took her seat Shawn began pacing a small area of the room as he spoke; not before apologising to y/n for his pacing, claiming 'moving around helps me get my words out properly' he pauses for a second, 'I'm not too good with articulation you see' he says with a chuckle to mask his insecurity. Y/n assured him that he didn't need to apologise, causing a sense of relief to wash over Shawn as he continued speaking.

As he continued speaking y/n's mind began to wander as Shawn spoke; her heart began to race as the realisation set in, as she realised exactly what parts of the song she would be running through for Shawn to judge if she's the 'right fit' for the job. As Shawn noticed the woman growing increasingly more nervous he placed his large, rugged hand on the woman's lap, gently grazing his thumb over her leg, bringing y/n's focus back to the conversation before he continued vocalising his idea.

'The lovely creative director back in there has informed me that you're familiar with my song, so I was thinking we run through it as it is then if the stars align for me and you want to work on the rewrite we can go from there' he says almost excitedly.

'Sounds good' y/n replied sheepishly with as she went onto one of the computers in the recording room to prepare a backing track as the computers had all of the wrestling backing tracks saved onto them for the creative team when necessary. While she was preparing the track Shawn also requested that y/n also recorded the process of them practicing the vocals so they could listen back to it and see if either of the two have any improvements or changes in min; Y/n hums in agreement and pulls up a recording software.

Once each piece of software was in place and the recording had begun Shawn gave y/n a nod to begin, the young woman took a deep breath and closed her eyes thinking if she couldn't see Shawn she'd be less embarrassed and in turn be able to perform better.

'Oh.. Oh.. Shawn' Y/n attempted to moan out like the original version of the man's song but she was barely able to mutter the words, let alone confidently moan them how she needed to. 'Great' y/n thought to herself, not only was she completely ruining her chance at the job but more so she was embarrassing herself in front of Shawn Michaels of all people, she was expecting to open her eyes to find Shawn laughing at her pathetic attempt to mimic his iconic song. However to y/n's surprise when she opened her eyes she was greeted by the older man's eyes filled with patience, there wasn't an ounce of mockery in the man's eyes.

'I'm sorry' y/n began, but before she could continue Shawn cut her off, almost parroting back the words she said to him before 'you don't need to apologise sweetheart' he reassured her in a low register 'why don't you give it another go, imagine you're going at it with your dream man' he teased making y/n flustered. Y/n jokingly nodded and agreed to try again with Shawn's 'expert advice' in mind.

Y/n closed her eyes once again and despite her best efforts to not imagine Shawn, trying her hardest to fantasise about anything other than the older man making her a quivering shaking mess using nothing but his fingers- y/n gulped at the idea, feeling herself grow increasingly wet merely at the thought.

Biting her lip, y/n completely missed her cue, only realising once Shawn asked her through a smirk 'is there something on your mind doll?' causing y/n to to immediately begin apologising and attempting to explain away her making a complete fool of herself before Shawn stood up and stepped closer to the seated woman, towering over her.

'I think my suggestion worked a little too well sweetheart' he jokes 'who are you thinking of in that mind of yours? A little boyfriend?' He questions, emphasising the 'boy', seemingly mocking the age of anybody y/n could possibly be dating.

'I don't have 'a little boyfriend' actually' y/n replies, causing one of Shawn's eyebrow to raise in a curious manner at the woman; without missing a beat, Shawn questions back in a curious tone 'who was making your mind wander so much you missed your cue then?' Seeing the woman's doe-like eyes widen as if starving for light as she assures Shawn it was 'no one in particular' was all the conformation Shawn needed, he's been around enough women to know when one was enamoured with him.

Craning his neck downwards so his face was inches from the woman's, Shawn asks in a seductive whisper 'do you trust me doll?' To which y/n responded with a simple nod. With that, Shawn moved over to the woman's ear and instructed her to press record on the computer as he nipped as the skin on her neck teasingly, causing y/n to let out a desperate whine.

Shawn swiftly moved from the woman's neck, not wanting to leave any visible marks on the woman, Shawn liked to see himself as a gentleman and didn't want people seeing the young woman leaving the room covered in markings, people can be cruel and Shawn has the rest of his life to mark the woman's pretty little neck, this what he was doing now was simply business.

Shawn made sure he let his hands graze down y/n's body as he gracefully falls to his knees, once on his knees he effortless pulled the woman's loose fitting jeans down to her ankles exposing her panties, already soaked from the way Shawn had been lightly touching her. Shawn's eyes grew lustful with hunger at the sight. With an uncharacteristically demanding tone Shawn began speaking to the woman; 'be a good doll and make sure you’re practicing your vocals’ he demanded as he softly pulled the woman’s cotton panties aside, the softness of the fabric had nothing on the softness of y/n’s skin as Shawn firmly gripped onto the woman’s thighs, spreading them to the side to gain better access to the heat between the woman’s legs.

With a cockiness to him Shawn dramatically allowed his tongue to fall out of his mouth, practically gasping for y/n like a dehydrated dog, Shawn took his tongue and painfully slowly glided it over the heat between y/n’s legs until he found himself at her clit. He hovered over the aching ball of nerves, his hit breathe being the only sensation pulsing through y/n causing her to desperately push her hips upwards in an attempt to bring her clit and Shawn’s mouth into contact.

‘Tut-Tut-Tut’ Shawn mocks ‘you’re so desperate for Shawn to make you feel good aren’t you darling' he continues as he uses his fingers to open y/n's folds, revealing her wet hole, desperately pulsating at the thought of being filled. With his free hand Shawn gently pries the young woman's plump untouched lips open and slid two fingers into her mouth and just like it was second nature y/n began to coyly suck on his long, thick digits.

Shawn’s eyes glaze over at the sight of the young woman enveloping his fingers in her mouth so easily; ‘now how about we see if you’re this good at swallowing my fingers elsewhere hmm?’ Shawn states as he pulls his fingers from y/n’s mouth still connected by a string of saliva. With ease Shawn slides his fingers coated in y/n’s spit into the gasping hole between her legs, walls immediately clamping down on him in fear of the empty feeling it’ll be left with if Shawn dares removes his fingers from y/n. Once y/n had adjusted to the feeling of Shawn’s fingers beautifully stretching her in a delicate way which she had never experienced before Shawn began slowly pumping his fingers in and out of y/n, in his mind claiming her as his own.

As y/n let out a soft moan Shawn snakes his hand around her throat and applied soft pressure, not enough to hurt her but enough to get her attention, in a smug and condescending tone Shawn utters ‘I don’t hear you practicing those vocals darlin’ I bet you can do so good for ol’ Shawn if you try.’ This praise was enough to have y/n melting into his touch, eager to please the man who had her falling apart in his hands.

Once again y/n attempts the dreaded vocals, but as she opens her mouth Shawn’s fingers pick up their pace, causing unimaginable waves of pleasure to course through the woman; 'Oh.. Oh.. Shawn' she practically screams as Shawn praises her efforts ‘good girl, you’re doing so well for me.’

Although Shawn had all the vocal samples he needed he continued pumping his fingers in and out of the woman until he felt her walls clamp down on him, until the woman’s delicate hands gripped at his forearm; with a smirk Shawn removed his fingers become y/n reached her climax, completely playing into the persona which his song encompasses he stands up and almost cockily says ‘hands off the merchandise’ expecting a laugh or at least a smile from his y/n, however upon seeing her pouting at him for denying her of her first real orgasm; that being an orgasm from a man who knew exactly how to send a woman over the edge, Shawn grinned and whispered into her ear; ‘don’t get short with me darlin' if we get through this meeting with the creative director then I want to take you back to my place and show you what all the fuss about the heartbreak kid really is’ he teasingly nibbled on her ear and continued ‘what kind of a gentleman would I be if I let a doll like you climax in an office hmm? Let me show you how dolls should be treated.’

Y/n blushed, unaccustomed to this kind of treatment, in response Shawn grabbed her hand, helped her back into her pants and led her back to the creative director to tell them that y/n had agreed to take the job after all.

Shawn wouldn’t admit this to anybody but his heart welled with excitement through the entire meeting fantasising about showing y/n what a real man can do, he was excited to have her desperately pleading for him because he’s the only man that can make her feel good, but more than anything he was excited to make her his, after all, who better to look after such a sweet little doll than the wrestler whose gimmick was love?

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A/N >> Would anyone want a part 2 to this fic? Drop suggestions/requests if you have any

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wittyandobsessed · 1 month ago

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𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞'𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐢𝐫

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | Carlton Lassiter x Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | none.

𝘋𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘵𝘰𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘳, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘏𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘯’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘯 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦.

While you were deeply focused on writing a report, your eyes involuntarily drifted to Carlton Lassiter, your colleague and constant companion for the past two months. You didn’t mean to stare, but something about him always managed to pull your attention. His neatly combed hair, catching the soft glow of the office light, gave him an air of unwavering discipline. Then there were his eyes—a piercing blue that seemed to hold an endless depth of determination, like he was always analyzing, always focused.

You found yourself watching him more closely than you should have, captivated by his movements. Carlton moved with a natural confidence, every gesture precise and deliberate. Even in the mundane moments, there was a fluidity to the way he carried himself, as though every step, every turn, was part of a carefully choreographed dance. You couldn't help but admire it. He was so self-assured, so effortlessly in control, and it was mesmerizing.

Your mind wandered. What lay beneath that stoic exterior of his? Carlton always presented himself as the consummate professional—serious, poised, and entirely unflappable. But you couldn’t shake the curiosity that simmered inside you. What secrets were tucked away behind his sharp gaze and rigid posture? What kind of man was he when no one was watching?

The little things about him captured your attention the most. The way he rolled up the sleeves of his crisp, buttoned shirts, exposing his forearms. You caught yourself tracing the contours of his muscles with your eyes, marveling at how his movements seemed both powerful and elegant. Each small action, like adjusting his cuffs or reaching for his coffee mug, had a quiet intensity to it that you couldn’t ignore.

And then there were moments that made your cheeks warm—a surprising, almost embarrassing heat that crept up on you. Like when he loosened his tie after a long day, unbuttoning the top of his shirt. Your breath hitched slightly as you caught a glimpse of the pale skin at the base of his neck, the faintest hint of chest hair peeking through. It wasn’t anything overtly dramatic, just enough to spark your imagination. You felt your face flush, and quickly turned your attention back to your report, scolding yourself for letting your thoughts wander so far.

But even then, you couldn’t help but notice the way his shoulder holster framed his broad, powerful build. Carlton Lassiter wore his weapon with the kind of ease that only came from years of experience, as though it was an extension of himself. Every subtle shift in his stance, every purposeful movement, seemed to emphasize his quiet strength and unwavering determination.

You found yourself stealing glances at him, unable to look away for long. His presence drew you in like a magnet, your eyes tracing the small details you might otherwise overlook—the precise way his holster rested against his shoulders, the faint creases in his shirt where his muscles moved, the way his jaw tightened ever so slightly when he was deep in thought. Each detail seemed to tell a story, though you couldn’t yet piece it all together.

You weren’t even fully aware of what you were doing. Your gaze lingered on him longer than it should have, completely absorbed by every nuance of his appearance and behavior. At first, you told yourself it was curiosity—an attempt to decode the enigma that was Carlton Lassiter. After all, there was something about him that intrigued you, something that made you want to peel back the layers of his stoic demeanor and discover the man beneath.

And yet, there was a warmth that had started to creep in, unbidden and undeniable. You didn’t recognize it for what it was at first, too preoccupied with the mystery of him to realize that your fascination had started to grow into something deeper. You told yourself it was admiration, respect, maybe even a professional interest. But deep down, you knew it was something more. Something that made your heart race whenever he walked past. Something that made it impossible not to notice how his presence seemed to fill the room.

Meanwhile, Carlton remained completely oblivious. He was laser-focused on his work, his brow furrowed as he flipped through case files and jotted down notes with his usual precision. His entire demeanor radiated professionalism, a man completely immersed in his responsibilities. He didn’t seem to notice the occasional glances you sent his way or the way you subtly shifted your position to keep him in your line of sight.

Shawn Spencer, who had wandered into the station with his usual goal of stirring up chaos and sniffing out a new case to tackle with Gus, couldn’t help but notice the way your eyes kept gravitating toward Carlton Lassiter. Shawn was sharp—when it came to people, anyway—and he caught every subtle detail: the faint blush creeping up your cheeks whenever Lassiter’s piercing blue gaze briefly met yours, the way you bit your lower lip absentmindedly, and the dreamy, faraway look in your eyes when you thought no one was watching. It didn’t take long for him to put the pieces together.

"You’ve got a crush," Shawn murmured under his breath, grinning mischievously. Of course, he had no intention of leaving this alone. For Shawn, this was a golden opportunity—not just to meddle in your personal life, but to also push Lassiter’s buttons in the most entertaining way possible.

"Let’s go, Gus," Shawn said, clapping a hand on Gus’s chest. Gus rolled his eyes, already sensing trouble, but as always, he followed Shawn’s lead. Together, they made their way to the bullpen, where you were sitting at your desk, half-heartedly pretending to work while stealing another glance at Lassiter. Carlton, for his part, was entirely oblivious, laser-focused on the paperwork in front of him.

Shawn stopped a few feet away, striking his usual exaggerated pose, one hand dramatically pressed to his temple, the other hovering midair. "Oh no," he gasped, shutting his eyes tightly as if in the throes of a psychic vision.

Your head snapped up, startled, and Lassiter glanced up from his files with a frown.

"Ah!" Shawn cried, stumbling theatrically toward Carlton’s desk, clutching his chest like he’d been hit by a bolt of lightning. "What is this? What is this energy I’m feeling? It’s so… potent!"

He collapsed against Lassiter’s desk, sending a paperclip holder tumbling to the floor. Carlton jumped back slightly, his face contorting in irritation. "Spencer! What the hell are you doing now?" he growled, pushing his chair back as if preparing to physically remove Shawn from his workspace.

Shawn ignored him entirely, instead placing a hand over his heart, his expression one of mock distress. "The feelings are overwhelming," he said, voice dripping with melodrama. "There’s… there’s love in the air! I can feel it coursing through my psychic veins!"

You froze, your stomach dropping as a fiery blush spread across your face. Was Shawn onto you? Did he know? And worse—was he about to announce it to the entire station? Your mind raced as you tried to keep your expression neutral, but you could feel Lassiter’s gaze flicker to you briefly before returning to Shawn, his annoyance building.

"Spencer, I’m warning you," Lassiter said through gritted teeth. "If you don’t cut this out right now—"

But Shawn was already on his feet again, swaying dramatically as though he were being guided by some invisible force. "Oh, the vision is so clear," he declared, staggering toward your desk with his hand raised like he was plucking some mystical signal from the air. "There’s romance… strong, undeniable feelings… "

Lassiter raised an incredulous eyebrow, his patience visibly wearing thin, while your own face turned redder by the second. Shawn’s words and pointed antics had drawn several curious glances from other detectives in the precinct, and you felt like every eye in the room was now trained on you. You squirmed under the weight of it, struggling to appear composed even as a knot of anxiety twisted in your stomach.

“Let me guess,” Lassiter said dryly, clearly unimpressed, “you’re claiming the victim had a secret romantic relationship? Is that where this nonsense is going?” He tried to steer the conversation back to the active case, his voice clipped and pragmatic.

But Shawn, ever the wildcard, froze mid-step and dropped his performative grin. For a moment, his expression turned uncharacteristically serious, his gaze shifting deliberately in your direction. The change in his demeanor sent a chill down your spine, and your breath hitched as his eyes locked with yours.

“No, Lassie,” Shawn said, his tone solemn in a way that only heightened your nerves. “What I’m saying is that you need to pay more attention. Love… is closer than you think.”

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap. Your stomach sank as your mind raced. Did he know? Could he possiblyhave figured it out? You had been careful—mostly—to keep your growing feelings for Carlton buried beneath professionalism and small stolen glances. But Shawn Spencer was annoyingly observant, and now he was standing there, practically announcing it to the room.

Lassiter rolled his eyes with an audible groan. “Spencer, I don’t need your ridiculous ‘visions’ to manage my personal life. If you’re done wasting my time, I suggest you leave.”

Shawn smirked, clearly satisfied with himself, and made a show of brushing imaginary dust off his shoulders. “Fine, Lassie. Ignore my warnings. But don’t say I didn’t try to help.”

With that, he strolled out of the bullpen, a bounce in his step and a mischievous grin plastered on his face. You let out a shaky breath, your heart still hammering in your chest as you risked a glance at Carlton. He had already returned to his desk, muttering something under his breath as he sifted through his case notes.

The room seemed to settle back into its usual rhythm, but your mind refused to follow suit. Shawn’s words echoed in your head, his knowing look replaying on a loop. Did he really know, or was it just another one of his games? You couldn’t be sure. What you were sure of, however, was that your secret didn’t feel so safe anymore.

Meanwhile, Carlton sat across the room, unfazed—or so it seemed. He was focused, calm, and back to his usual self. But as he flipped through his files, his brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his face. Was it irritation? Amusement? Or something else entirely?

You shook your head, forcing yourself to focus on your own work. Carlton Lassiter wasn’t the type to be swayed by Shawn’s antics, you told yourself. And yet… a tiny, hopeful part of you couldn’t help but wonder if, for even just a moment, he had considered Shawn’s words. If maybe, just maybe, love really was closer than he thought.

As the afternoon wore on, the hum of the precinct returned to normal, but you couldn’t shake the weight of Shawn’s words. They lingered, hovering over you like a storm cloud, making every glance you stole at Carlton feel heavier, more significant. Your focus on your work was nonexistent, your mind running in circles. Did he realize? Did Carlton even care? And worse—what if he didn’t?

Carlton, for his part, seemed to remain as composed as ever. His brow furrowed in concentration as he flipped through files and jotted down notes in his crisp handwriting. It was his usual routine, but something about his movements felt more deliberate now. His jaw clenched a little tighter, and every so often, his gaze would flick upward—quick and subtle, just enough to catch you looking before you turned away.

When you finally mustered the courage to glance his way again, you found his eyes fixed on you, piercing and unreadable. It was only a moment, but it felt like an eternity before he shifted his focus back to his work. Your pulse quickened. Had he noticed your stares? Did he pick up on Shawn’s implications, or was it all in your head?

By the time the precinct began to empty out for the evening, your nerves were frayed. Shawn’s meddling had set something in motion, and you couldn’t tell if it was going to break you or bring you closer to the man you couldn’t stop thinking about. You were gathering your things, trying to quietly slip out, when Carlton’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Wait,” he said, his tone calm but commanding. You turned to see him standing by his desk, his tie slightly loosened, his holster hanging from his broad shoulders. His blue eyes were sharp, almost disarming, as he motioned for you to follow him. “We need to talk.”

Your heart plummeted and soared at the same time. Did he know? Was this about work—or something else entirely? Swallowing hard, you nodded and trailed behind him, your steps shaky as he led you into one of the precinct’s smaller, quieter conference rooms.

He closed the door behind you, his movements deliberate, and turned to face you. For a moment, the room was filled with a tense, charged silence. Carlton looked at you, his expression unreadable, but his eyes—those piercing blue eyes—seemed to search yours, like he was trying to find the right words.

“Spencer’s little... performance earlier,” he began, his voice steady but quieter than usual. “It was ridiculous, as always. But—” He paused, his jaw tightening as he shifted on his feet. “It got me thinking.”

Your breath hitched. This was it. This was the moment where everything could come crashing down—or change forever. “Thinking about what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze softened just slightly, a hint of vulnerability breaking through the stoic wall he usually kept so firmly in place. “About whether there’s any truth to it,” he said. “About whether… I’ve been blind to something I should’ve noticed.”

Your stomach flipped, and you felt the air leave your lungs. He was staring at you now, his expression carefully guarded but not cold. “If there’s something you want to say,” he added, his tone gentler than you’d ever heard it, “this is your chance.”

You hesitated, your mind racing with a million possible outcomes. But the thought of leaving this room without saying anything felt worse than any rejection could ever be. So you took a deep breath, clenched your fists at your sides, and said it.

“Shawn wasn’t wrong,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I… I’ve been feeling something for a while now. And I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to make things awkward or ruin the professional dynamic we have. But I… I like you, Carlton. More than I should.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Your cheeks burned, your heart thundering in your chest as you waited for him to say something—anything.

Carlton’s expression didn’t shift at first, his face unreadable as he processed your words. For a moment, you thought you’d made a horrible mistake, that he was going to shut you down and walk away. But then, his lips quirked—just slightly—into a soft, almost imperceptible smile.

“You know,” he said, his voice lower now, “I’ve been so focused on work, I didn’t even realize… But now that I think about it, maybe Shawn was right for once.”

Your eyes widened. “You mean—”

“I’m not good at this,” he interrupted, his tone dry but laced with something softer. “Relationships. Feelings. But I’m not blind. I’ve noticed you—more than I probably should. And if you’re willing to put up with someone like me…” He trailed off, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. “Maybe we could give this a shot.”

A smile broke across your face before you could stop it, relief and joy flooding through you all at once. “I’d like that,” you said softly, barely trusting your voice.

Carlton nodded, the corners of his mouth lifting just enough to show a rare, genuine smile. “Good,” he said. “Because I’m not letting Spencer be the only one who noticed.”

And for the first time that day, the tension melted away, replaced by a warmth that left you both standing there, unsure of what came next but ready to find out—together.

#oneshot #x reader #psych #carlton lassiter #Carlton Lassiter x reader #shawn spencer

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riptidewaters · 6 months ago

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Lover

(Harry Potter x fem! Reader! (NAMED)

Charlotte scribbled random lyrics on the parchment she had gotten, the quiet of the library comforted her,

‘Ladies and gentlemen will you please stand?

With every guitar string scar on my hand,

I take this magnetic force of a man to be my,

Lover’

She hummed slightly, making up her own tune, ‘Charlotte!’ Her head shot up, looking at her friend, ‘You coming? We have transfiguration in 10.’ Nodding and getting up hastily, Charlotte gathered her things, not noticing the parchment she had been writing on, had been left behind.

‘Sod off Ron.’ Harry said, declining him having a crush on Ginny, he entered the library and shot a slight smile to the librarian. He walked towards a desk and sat down taking his books and parchment out of his book bag and placing them in front of him, when he noticed a piece of slightly yellowed parchment innocently sitting on the desk, pulling the piece of paper towards him and glanced at the hastily scribbled writing on the paper, smiling and reading the lyrics he jotted down his own, adding the words under the previously written verse,

‘Look in my eyes, They will tell you the truth,

The girl in my story will always be you,

I’d go down with the titanic it’s true,

For you…..Lover’

He smiled to himself, leaving the parchment where he found it, not knowing who the original writer was but feeling a strange connection to them.

---

Charlotte came back to the library later, realizing she’d left her lyrics behind. She was surprised to find someone had added to them, and the new lines felt like they were meant just for her. Her friends, noticing her excitement, started teasing her.

“Looks like you’ve got a secret admirer!” one of them joked.

“Your perfect match, writing love songs for you,” another chimed in.

Blushing, but intrigued, Charlotte decided to add another verse, leaving the parchment on the desk again.

---

The next day, Harry returned to the library, surprised but pleased to find the parchment still there. And now, there was more:

Harry’s heart raced as he added his own lines beneath hers.

Feeling bold, he grabbed another piece of parchment and wrote:

“Are you real, or am I just dreaming? Leave me another verse, and maybe one day we’ll meet. – Your Songmate”

He left the two parchments together on the desk, hoping whoever wrote the first part would respond.

---

Days passed, and Charlotte and Harry continued their secret exchange through the parchment, each adding verses and little notes, never revealing their identities. Charlotte found herself thinking more and more about her mystery songmate, while Harry couldn’t stop wondering who the girl behind the lyrics was. His friends started noticing how lost in thought he’d become.

“Harry, what’s got you smiling like that all the time?” Ron asked, nudging him.

“Yeah, you’ve been really happy lately,” Hermione added, her brow furrowed.

But Harry just shrugged them off, keeping his secret.

---

One day, Harry was walking through the corridor when he spotted a notebook lying on the floor. He picked it up, and when he opened it, his breath caught. The handwriting was the same as the one on the parchment—the same lyrics that had been keeping him up at night.

Just then, Charlotte came hurrying down the hall, eyes wide as she saw him holding her notebook.

“Thank you, Harry,” she said, a little breathless as she took it from him.

He watched her walk away, his mind spinning. Now he knew—his mystery girl, the one he’d been writing songs with, was Charlotte.

---

After that, Harry couldn't help but watch Charlotte a little more closely, noticing the way she hummed to herself, or how her eyes lit up when she was deep in thought. He still hadn’t told her he knew, but there was something comforting about knowing that the girl who had captured his heart through music was right there, within reach.

---

Charlotte’s heart was racing as she walked away from Harry in the hallway. She could feel his eyes on her, and a part of her wanted to turn around, to see if he knew. But she couldn’t. Not yet.

Over the next few days, the song exchanges stopped. Harry couldn’t bring himself to add anything new, not when he already knew the truth. Charlotte noticed the silence, and it started to gnaw at her. Had her mystery songmate lost interest? Or had she been too late to figure out who he was?

She was about to give up when one day, she found another piece of parchment tucked into her Transfiguration book. It wasn’t the usual lyrics they’d been sharing. This one was different.

*Harry's Note:*

“I think it’s time we met.

Tonight by the lake, after everyone’s gone to bed.

If you’re real, if you’re the one I’ve been writing with,

I’ll be there, waiting.

– H”

Charlotte stared at the note, her heart pounding. She knew who “H” was, of course. But did he really know it was her? She folded the parchment and tucked it into her robe, her mind made up. She’d go. She had to know.

---

That night, Charlotte slipped out of the castle, her heart hammering with each step toward the lake. The moon was high, casting a silver glow over the water. She saw him then, standing by the edge, his back to her. Harry.

For a moment, she hesitated, her nerves threatening to get the best of her. But then she remembered the words they’d shared, the connection that had grown between them, and she knew she had to go through with this.

“Harry,” she called out softly.

He turned, and their eyes met. For a second, neither of them moved, the air thick with everything unsaid. Then Harry smiled, that familiar, lopsided grin that made her feel like everything would be okay.

“So it’s you,” he said, stepping closer. “I had a feeling it might be.”

Charlotte let out a shaky laugh. “You’re not disappointed, are you?”

“Disappointed?” Harry shook his head, taking her hands in his. “Not even close. You’re the one I’ve been writing with, the one who’s been in my head, in my heart, all this time.”

“I can’t believe it was you,” Charlotte whispered, feeling the warmth of his hands. “I thought I was just dreaming.”

“Me too,” Harry said, his voice soft. “But this is real. We’re real.”

For a moment, they just stood there, hands intertwined, the night wrapping around them like a blanket. It felt like they were the only two people in the world.

Then, almost without thinking, Charlotte started to sing the last verse of the song they’d been writing together.

And you'll save all your

dirtiest jokes for me

And at every table, I'll save you

a seat, lover (Save you a seat)

Harry smiled, his voice joining hers as they sang the final lines together.

“Can I go where you go?

(Can I go where you go, baby?)

Can we always be this

close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take

me home (Forever and ever)

You're my, my, my, my

Oh, you're my, my, my, my

Darling, you're my, my, my, my lover”

As the last note hung in the air, Harry leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers. “This is just the beginning,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin.

Charlotte smiled, closing her eyes. “Yeah. It is.”

---

And so, what started as scribbles on a forgotten piece of parchment became something more—a song that brought two hearts together, a story that was only just beginning. For Charlotte and Harry, the song would always be theirs, a reminder of the night they found each other, and the love that had been there all along.

#harry james potter x reader #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #hogwarts au #taylor swift #shawn mendes #lovers #love #hermione granger #ron weasley #imagine #harry potter imagine #oneshot #fluff #cute

48 notes · View notes

patchouliauthor · 1 month ago

Note

Hi, i absolutely love your work. But can i have another shawn spencer oneshort please?

Hand Over the Evidence | Shawn Spencer X GN!Reader

Warnings: Angst, minor limb severing, legal system, alcohol, guns, knives, blood, use of “y/n”

Word Count: Like 5900

A/N: I admittedly don’t know much about the law enforcement system so bear with me. I’m back back back again. My life literally did a complete 180, but I am back due to popular demand (aka like 3 people in my inbox). Love ya, mean it, here’s something I’ve been cooking up.

Summary: You’re a detective in Santa Barbara and you team up with the eccentric fake psychic Shawn Spencer to investigate a bizarre string of restaurant break-ins. The seemingly harmless incidents escalate when a severed hand is found at a high-end bistro, accompanied by cryptic napkin messages. While tensions rise among the team, the case takes a chilling turn, hinting at a calculated and sinister motive.

There was never a dull moment in Santa Barbara, at least not where you worked. As a detective with the Santa Barbara Police Department, you never got bored. Especially not with the eccentric Shawn Spencer always weaseling his way into your caseload. Is weaseling the right word? Considering you actually thoroughly enjoyed his antics, you’re not quite sure. They always kept you entertained. The jury is still out on psychics, but if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

Even for Santa Barbara, this case was unusual. And you knew “unusual.” You formerly worked for the FBI as a criminal profiler, and if it weren’t for your father falling ill, you probably still would be. But you moved back home from Quantico and settled into a much lower stakes job working for the SBPD. Despite your background, this newest case definitely gave you a pause.

It was simple really. Just a string of break-ins in some of Santa Barbara’s premier restaurants. What stumped you was that there was nothing stolen or broken; the only sign of a break-in was the broken locks and the scrawled notes left on napkins.

“The feast is set, but the guests are missing.” You said, reading the newest napkin note.

“This is a waste of time.” said Detective Carlton Lassiter.

You looked at him quizzically. “I’m not so sure about that, Lassiter.”

He rolled his eyes. Lassiter rarely got along with anyone, let alone you. You beat his score on the Marksmanship Qualification Program by three points, and he’s yet to live it down.

“There’s clear intent here.” You said.

“Sure there is.” He replied. “The intent to make me waste my time.”

Juliet, ever the diplomat of the pair, offered another perspective. “It could be just someone with a grudge against these restaurants, like maybe a competitor trying to scare their rivals.”

“Or…” Shawn trailed off as he leaned dramatically against the doorframe. “...A ghost chef exacting revenge on the living.”

Lassiter rolled his eyes. “No one asked you, Spencer.” Shawn sauntered into the room, unfazed.

“I’m just saying,” Shawn continued, “if you put the napkins together, they could spell out an ancient recipe for vengeance.”

“Vengeance stew,” Gus muttered nervously, adjusting his tie.

You ignored them both, instead turning to Chief Vick. “This feels calculated. The phrasing, the escalation… This is building towards something bigger.”

Chief Vick looked skeptical, but sighed. “Keep me updated. I can’t justify allocating more resources to this until we have more to go on.”

Lassiter smirked as he left. “Don’t worry Bureau, I’m sure you’ll crack the code of the magical napkins before the lunch rush.”

You didn’t rise to the bait.

The next crime scene was no laughing matter.

Yellow tape stretched across the high-end bistro, chicly named La Table Éclair. The tables were overturned, chairs in disarray, and broken locks littered the floor. No one batted an eye at that when they realized what was in the center of it all. A severed hand, palm-up, on the mahogany bar.

“The hand that feeds will starve,” you muttered, reading the scribbled napkin next to it. “The ring binds no more.”

Gus took one look at the grisly scene and promptly fainted, crumpling into a heap at Shawn’s feet.

“Gus!” Shawn exclaimed, catching him with surprising ease. “Buddy! Stay with me. You’re too beautiful for the floor!” Your eyes were trained on the evidence, cameras flashing from the crime scene photographers just over your shoulder. Shawn set his best friend down gently before approaching to get a better look.

Despite the grim atmosphere, Shawn couldn’t resist leaning closer to the dismembered hand. “Well, look at you, Lefty,” he said, as if addressing an old friend. “You’ve really let yourself go. What happened? Bad breakup? Lost your grip on life?”

You could almost feel the warning look Juliet gave him, but you were too busy analyzing everything about the scene in front of you.

Gus started to come to, standing up slowly and trying to pretend like that never happened. You almost had to laugh; how many crime scenes had this poor man been dragged to? He stood next to Shawn, whispering. They did that a lot, you noticed.

You tried to look at Lassiter, in part to ask what he was thinking and in part to see if he realized just how wrong he was yet. Realistically, you knew better. Even when he knows he’s wrong, he rarely will admit it. He avoided your gaze. Shawn notices this and starts speaking loudly. “You know you’ve really gotta hand it to Detective Lethal Weapon over there. Look who was right all along, Lassie.” You smirked at his comment.

“Bag up the hand.” Said Chief Vick. “We’ll have Woody take a look at it.”

Back at the station, you and your colleagues stood in the autopsy room sharing theories.

“Clearly, this is the work of someone who couldn’t hand-le the heat in the kitchen. Look at the message! ‘The hand that feeds will starve?’ That is some classic chef drama. They are probably sautéing vengeance as we speak.” Shawn quipped.

“It’s obvious what is happening. These are just vandals who started with pranks and decided to up the ante for attention. Leaving the hand is just a sick calling card. Probably some wannabe gang trying to cause chaos.” Lassiter replied.

“I don’t know about that, Lassiter. It feels like whoever did this wasn’t just targeting the restaurant– they were targeting someone connected to it.” Juliet added.

Shawn rolled his eyes. “It seems like you are forgetting there’s a handless Joe walking around here, Lassie.”

“I think you mean a handless Jane.” Woody said as he entered the conversation. “This is clearly a ladies hand.” The team all turned to look at him as he continued. “This is classic intimidation. And the cut on the hand is jagged, probably done while the victim was still alive, and certainly not done by any professional. This is just like those old mob cases I read about! Except, with fewer italian accents and even more bistros”

“Wait!” Shawn said. “I’m getting a vision!” He said as he put his hand to his temple. He then looked at that hand, confused. He grabbed his hand with the other one and slammed it on the table. He then mimicked the motion of chopping it off. Lassiter rolled his eyes, and Chief Vick and Juliet looked at him with mild concern. You, of course, barely noticed, too lost in your own thoughts about the case.

“I’ve got it!” Shawn finally said.

“Spencer, if you say one word about the mob even once, I swear I will have you arrested for obstruction.” Lassiter replied.

Shawn ignored him. “It was-”

You interrupt. “What about the ring?”

Everyone paused. They turn to you like they just noticed you were even here.

“The ring?” Woody asked.

“Yes. Can I see it?” You asked him.

He seemed confused until it dawned on him that you are onto something. He grabbed the ring as you gloved up your hands, before handing it over to you.

You analyzed this ring. There was nothing particularly amazing about it. It was a simple gold band, delicate and feminine, with a square cut ruby gem. The gem was nothing to sneeze at, but certainly not your taste. You then noticed some engraving on the inside of the band.

“MK.” You said aloud.

“Who’s MK?” Juliet asked.

“Michael Keaton?” Shawn added, playfully.

“Hopefully it’s not Mila Kunis.” Added Gus.

“Will both of you just shut u-” Lassiter says before a loud beep interrupts him. Woody quickly runs over to the source of the sound, his computer.

“It looks like we have a hit on the fingerprints. This lovely limb belongs to none other than Isabelle Noir.” He said.

“Isabelle Noir?” Juliet asked. “The famous lockpick?”

“That could be the message the culprit is trying to send.” Chief Vick said. “The hand of a lockpick? Broken locks?”

“But what did Isabelle have to do with all of this?” Juliet asked.

Isabelle Noir was more than a lockpick, but a local legend. However, after serving her last bit of time she had been completely off the radar.

“If this involves Noir, there’s more than enough people who would like to take a shot at her.” Lassiter said.

Chief Vick folded her arms, her expression dark. “We need to figure out who would go to such extremes to send a message—and why now.”

“Maybe it’s a rival?” Juliet suggested. “Someone who wanted to take her spot as the best in the business.”

“Could be, but leaving the hand feels personal,” Lassiter interjected. “A rival wouldn’t need to make it this grotesque. It’s got vendetta written all over it.”

Shawn, who had been unusually quiet, snapped his fingers. “Isabelle isn’t the target! The culprit must be using her to get to someone else!”

Gus raised an eyebrow. “You mean like a partner in crime?”

“Exactly! Or an ex-partner in crime. What if MK doesn’t stand for a person, but a...place?” Shawn grinned, clearly pleased with himself.

Lassiter scoffed. “Oh, please, Spencer. You’re just throwing darts in the dark as usual.”

“Am I, Lassie?” Shawn replied, leaning casually on the examination table. “Think about it. Severed hand, cryptic messages, and a lockpick famous for slipping through people’s fingers—literally. It’s not about her. It’s about who she’s connected to.”

“Do you have anything resembling proof, or are we all just supposed to ride this train of baseless speculation with you?” Lassiter shot back.

Before Shawn could answer, Woody, who had been clicking through files on his computer, spun around in his chair.

“Shawn may be onto something. There was a known associate of Noir’s named Marvin Kale. He and Isabelle worked together on several heists about five years ago. Their partnership ended abruptly after a falling out. Word is, Marvin kept going while Isabelle...well, she didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” Shawn asked.

“Didn’t want to. She turned herself in not long after, served her time, and vanished.” Woody said.

Juliet frowned. “And Marvin Kale?”

“Still active in certain circles. No arrests, but lots of rumors.” Said Woody.

“If this is about Kale, we need to track him down. Now.” Lassiter said commandingly.

“But where to start?” Said Juliet.

You looked up to see Shawn and Gus quietly exit the room, going unnoticed except for by you. You let them go, more focused on the case than anything else. “Wasn’t there supposed to be a grand opening of a new high end restaurant in Montecito tonight? Maybe it’s worth checking out.” You said.

“That’s not a bad idea.” Said Chief Vick. “What’s the name?”

“Monarch and King.” You replied.

“MK.” Lassiter added.

Chief Vick looked at her team. “We’ll be there. Detective Y/L/N, you have experience going undercover. You’ll be our covert officer. We’ll have eyes and ears inside the restaurant.”

“On it, Chief.” You replied. It had been a while since you went undercover, but you were excited to do it again.

“Do you think that’s the best idea?” Lassiter says. “Maybe I should be the one, Chief.”

“I’ve got this Lassiter.” You said confidently.

“We know you do.” Said Chief Vick. “Do us proud.”

This was the most exclusive event in Santa Barbara. The strings Chief had to pull to get you on the guest list must have been extensive. Of course it’s not you, it’s Rowan Blake. The name even sounded exclusive; like someone you have to pay to see. You put on your best attire, hoping that it was enough to at the very least go undetected. You were far from opulent, but you did clean up quite nicely, when you had the time to do so and a place to go.

Your taxi stopped, as did your racing thoughts. There was a time and a place to spiral, but this was not that time. You immediately became Rowan, and you thanked your driver with a generous tip.

The building was quite impressive; a mediterranean style like many buildings are here in Montecito. Stucco walls with soft shades of ivory and beige, ornate iron detailing, arched windows, dark wood. It was beautiful. What made it stand out the most though was a large carving in the top middle of the building, just above the grand double doors: The letters “MK.” You buried a smirk beneath your stoic expression.

As you approached the doors, the door attendant caught your eye. He looked young and nervous, like he didn’t expect to have such an important job. Poor thing, you thought to yourself. This is going to be easier than expected. You approached the desk where he stood and smiled.

“Rowan Blake?” You told him. He quickly scanned the names on the list in front of him, landing on your faux moniker. He gulped before looking up at you. “You may go in. Have a nice night.” He said with an awkward smile. You graciously smiled back and walked inside.

The interior was just as elegant as the exterior. Rich velvet curtains, polished marble floors, and intricate gold designs. There were subtle crowns adorning the walls, as well as portraits of supposed royalty. There was a large ballroom floor in the middle, likely just for this event, and plush leather chairs surrounding sturdy dark tables on the edges of the floor. Intimate booths with curtains lined the walls, as well as a large open bar. Chandeliers offered soft, low light throughout the room. You scanned the room, trying to memorize as many faces as you could while still maintaining the casual nature a typical guest would have. You walked confidently to the bar, trying to fit in as much as possible.

Once at the bar, you ordered a Vesper martini. You weren’t much of a drinker, at least not anymore, but you knew that one would take a bit to make. You listened in on the conversation nearby, but did not quite hear anything useful.

“Hello gorgeous.” A voice said behind you. Confused, you turned to face none other than Shawn Spencer. You tried to suppress your shock.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You said under your breath.

“The same thing you’re doing I presume.” He answered quietly.

You gave him a look. “Shawn-”

“It’s actually Montgomery Kinsington.” He interrupted.

You almost had to stifle a laugh. “...Seriously?”

“What?” He smirked. “Too fancy?”

He turned to the bar and called over the bartender. “Excuse me sir.” He said with an ambiguous and ridiculous accent. “I would like the Crown Jewel please.”

“Is that coming out of your pocket or Gus's?” You whispered. “That’s only the most expensive cocktail you and I have ever seen.”

He smirked once again, a Shawn Spencer special. “You know, it’s sort of like we’re on a date, Lethal Weapon.”

You returned the smirk at the nickname he had given you. “Not remotely. I’m here to solve a case. You’re here to wear a ridiculously flashy suit and order a $55 cocktail.”

“Who says you can’t do all of the above?” He smiled, grabbing his drink and sneaking off further into the party. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold in the grin that split your face.

After some scanning, you lock eyes with a man, sipping his drink. He smiled over his glass. You returned the smile. The man was decently attractive, tall with salt and pepper hair and some stubble along his jaw. His eyes never left yours as he took another sip, gesturing you over to him. During this sip, you noticed his ring. Gold with a red stone, albeit much more masculine than the one sitting in evidence currently. It certainly could be a coincidence, but your gut said to investigate, so you approached him confidently.

He smiled as you approached, shooing away the company he already had. When you got close enough to him, he leaned down to your ear so he could be heard over the music playing.

“And who may you be?” He asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You replied flirtatiously. At this, he chuckled lowly and placed his hand on the small of your back, lightly pushing you away from the rest of the crowd. You instinctively stiffened slightly, but allowed him to guide you wherever he wished to go, keeping your guard as high as it could be.

“How about if you tell me your name…” He said, lightly pushing you to a booth for more privacy. “...I’ll tell you mine.”

You smirked. “My name is Rowan. Rowan Blake.” You said.

He rested his head behind your ear. “That’s quite lovely. I haven’t seen you around, are you new to the area?”

You reached the booth and sat down. “Not so fast, you haven’t even told me your name yet.”

He grinned, sitting down and pulling the curtains closed. “I’m Mr. Kale, but I let pretty people like you call me Marvin.” He pauses while he takes another long sip of his drink. “I don’t believe we’ve met, have we? Are you new to the area?” “You are just full of questions, aren’t you… Marvin.” You replied coyly.

He chuckles. “It just seems like you’re not really here. Like you’re only observing and not participating.”

You grin. “You can say I’m just here for the entertainment. I’m not really in the business of entertaining myself, really.”

“Really? I find you quite entertaining.” He says. “So what’s your story?”

“Not much of a story to tell. I’m just here for some fun. But I have a feeling there’s more going on around here than meets the eye. What do you think?” You ask him.

Marvin leaned in slightly, his voice dropping low. “There’s always more than meets the eye, isn’t there? Some people can’t see it. They’re too busy looking at the surface, missing the important stuff.”

“Is that so?” You replied.

“Oh painfully so. But there are also those people like the two of us. Dancing around the truth, yet it is so deliciously obvious. People like us? We don’t mind a little game. It keeps things lively.” He answered.

You batted your eyelashes at him. “And what kind of game are we playing?”

Just then the curtains are yanked back. You both are startled and look at who ruined your conversation, only to meet the face of Shawn Spencer. Typical.

“This isn’t my booth! So sorry to interrupt you two.” He said.

“Not a problem.” Marvin replied.

Shawn shot you a knowing look before closing the curtains. You looked back at the man across from you, trying to get back to where you were.

“Let’s take this somewhere more private.” He said, getting up. He took your hand and helped you out of your seat before walking you back through a door on the side of the room. Alarm bells started going off in your head, but your search for answers muffled the sound.

The room was lit by a singular candle on a table sitting in the very center. Two chairs sat across each other, and the room smelled slightly of bergamot. Marvin led you in before shutting the door behind you.

“How did you know this was here?” You asked. While you tried to remain flirtatious, you feared that it came across as a bit fearful. Whether or not he caught it, you weren’t sure.

“Did I forget to mention?” He said. He raised your hand and gave a soft kiss to your knuckles. “This is my establishment.”

Your eyebrows raised. “I didn’t realize.”

He chuckled at that. “There’s a lot to learn about me, Rowan.”

Illuminated by candle light, he poured two glasses of wine. You had enough sense to know that if you have any of that, he has to have some first. To reassure you, he took a sip from his glass. You followed suit, taking a much smaller sip.

“I must be honest Rowan. I would very much like to kiss you.” He said softly.

You tensed up internally, hoping that he couldn’t tell. “Well. What’s stopping you?” You replied.

He laughed softly before reaching up to cup your face. Your head started spinning. What’s going on? You thought to yourself.

Before you can even think, Marvin collapsed. You had to steady yourself on the table, fighting whatever was taking control of your system. Just then, the door swung open, and through the light flooding the room, you realized that you are not alone. A figure stood in the darkness the whole time. You fell to your knees, clutching the edge of the table for any sort of stability. In your final moments of consciousness, you realized that Shawn is who entered the room. You tried to muster the strength to warn him when everything goes black.

You woke up slowly, head heavy, to find yourself bound to a harsh wooden chair. You could feel rough rope digging into your wrists tied behind your back. It took a few seconds but you regained feeling in your shoulders, unfortunately. Every joint in your body hurt like hell, like you hadn’t moved in 10 years.

Again, you felt the presence of others, and you slowly lifted your head as much as you could to find two, also unconscious and bound to chairs surrounding a table. Across from you was Marvin and a woman you did not recognize. The woman was not bound by her arms, though they were tied behind her back, but instead bound around her chest and abdomen to the chair. She had dark, disheveled hair, and her head hung backwards over the back of her seat.

As you regained your strength, you were able to lift your head more, taking in the surroundings of the room you were in. It was elegant, but old and dusty, like it had been forgotten about for some time. You turned to your left and your stomach dropped. Another person was tied next to you: Shawn, still unconscious. The sight of him jump started you, and you started pulling at the rope holding you. You pulled with such force you almost knocked your chair down backwards, and your skin started to burn. You cursed under your breath.

“Giving up already, Detective?” A voice said from behind you. You stilled. Shawn started to slowly wake up, as did Marvin and the mysterious woman across from you.

You heard heels clicking on the ground, coming your way. Eventually, a woman walked into your line of sight. She looked polished, with a dark red gown and a modest updo. She smiled.

“The guests are finally arriving, but I didn’t expect to have you two here.” She said gesturing to yourself and Shawn. “What a lovely turn of events.”

“What is this?” You ask.

She giggled. “Well, it’s a feast, silly!” She said, hands clasped in front of her. You noticed her choice in jewelry. Gold band, red square cut stone. “Let me introduce myself. My name is Marisol Kane. It’s lovely to meet you, Detective.”

The woman across the table spoke up quietly. “Marisol, let these people go.”

“I don’t want to hear one word out of your whore mouth, Isabelle.” She replied, warmth suddenly gone.

“What is this about?” Marvin said, finally conscious.

“What is this about? This is about you stealing the woman I love and turning her against me!” Marisol yelled, brandishing a knife.

“Allow me.” Shawn quipped. You wished you could stop him but even with free arms there is nothing to stop that mouth from running.

“It starts with you, Isabelle Noir. You’re the stuff of criminal legend. The Picasso of lockpicking, except instead of painting, you were cracking safes and stealing hearts. And then, one day, you vanished. No goodbye, no farewell tour, just poof—gone. Everyone assumed you’d gone straight or, at the very least, decided to retire somewhere with a beach and a fruity drink. But no. You’ve been here. Hiding. Because someone made sure you couldn’t run.

And that someone? Marisol Kane. Marisol, your obsession with Isabelle is, how do I put this delicately, certifiable. You were her best friend, but secretly, you wanted to be so much more. And when you found out she said yes to Marvin—Marvin! Of all people—something in your brain just… snapped. You couldn’t stand the idea of Isabelle loving anyone else, especially not him.

So, what did you do? You decided to get back at Marvin for all the pain that he caused you. By leaving his fiancée’s severed hand at a rival eatery, adorned with the ring he gave her. You meticulously left a trail of breadcrumbs leading us all the way to Mr. Kale himself, hoping that the initials alone would be enough. You’ve been pulling the strings this whole time, letting him twist in guilt and regret while you’ve been keeping Isabelle locked away like some tragic fairytale villain. But that wasn’t enough for you, was it?

No, you’re not just satisfied with Marvin’s misery. You want revenge. And what better way to get back at him than to kill the woman he loved, right in front of him? Let him watch as you take away the one person he couldn’t protect. It’s dark, it’s twisted, it’s, honestly, a little too on the nose, but hey, points for commitment.

But you forgot one teensy little detail. Me, Shawn Spencer, psychic detective. I knew your whole plan all along, and trust me, law enforcement is already on their way.” Shawn leaned closer to you and whispered. “They are on their way, right?”

Marisol slammed her knife on the table.

“That’s not all…” Continued Shawn. “The worst part is, no matter how this goes, Isabelle is never going to love you the way you love her.”

Marisol looked at him, engulfed in rage. “That’s enough. You think you know everything. But you don’t. Not yet anyway.” She took your chair and pulled you closer to her, picking up the knife and holding it to your neck.

Shawn’s grin dropped.

“You know how I feel, loving someone who does not feel the same.” She pressed the knife further into your skin. “Now you get to watch as they die.”

Your eyes widened and your life flashed before your eyes. Was this really your final moment?

“Don’t do this!” Shawn yelled.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.” Marisol replied.

Shawn paused. “Because you’ll never get away with it.” He said.

Marisol shrugged. “Oh well.” She began to push the knife further when Shawn spoke up again.

“Because what will it prove?”

Marisol laughed chillingly. “Not good enough, Spencer.”

You steeled your expression and prepared to greet death when Shawn spoke up one final time.

“Because if you hurt Y/N, you will spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder, praying that you don’t find me.”

That gave everyone a pause, including you. Marisol loosened her grip on you slightly, before chuckling.

“Love is weakness, Shawn.” She replied.

Suddenly the doors swung open and police entered the room, led by Lassiter and Juliet. Marisol pressed the knife tighter to your neck, using you as a human shield.

“Put the weapon down now!” Lassiter commands.

Marisol refused, staring coldly at the weapon pointed directly at her.

“You don’t want to do this, you could walk away from this.” Juliet added.

Marisol laughed sadly, before looking over at Isabelle. Isabelle silently pleaded with her to put down the weapon. She did not.

“I was never going to walk away from this.” She murmured under her breath before slamming the knife into your shoulder. You barely registered the pain, just as you barely registered the sounds of gunfire and Marisol’s collapsing body. Her grip on the knife remained, and she yanked it out of your wound on her way down.

Everything started moving in slow motion. You could hear yelling. Was that Lassiter calling for paramedics? You couldn’t be sure. Your shoulder felt warm and wet, and then the pain set in. A loud noise ripped throughout the room, and it took just a moment to realize it came from you.

You looked at Juliet, your friend and confidant. You had never seen such concern across her face. She rushed over to you and untied you, gently lowering you to the floor. Your whole arm and chest felt like it was on fire. Shawn and Gus appeared next to you too, though you could barely see through the spots in your vision. How’d Gus get here? Am I dying? You thought to yourself. No. Not yet. You’re just in shock. Even in this state you had to be the voice of reason.

Juliet applied pressure to the wound. Shawn shouted at someone you couldn’t see, and Gus grabbed your other hand, holding it tightly. You could hear the other officers securing the scene, moving what you assumed to be Marvin and Isabelle out of the way.

“You are going to be okay, you can’t die on me yet.” Shawn’s voice cut through the noise. “Not when there’s so much left for me to tell you.”

It took everything in you to move your eyes over to meet his. He looked as if he was going to cry. You mustered out a faint. “Not… going… anywhere.”

As you slipped from consciousness, you saw the lights of the ambulance through a crack in the wall, and then nothing.

The antiseptic smell hit you first, then the faint beeping of the machinery you were hooked up to. You knew exactly where you were, Santa Barbara Cottage Hospital. You hoped you never got used to waking up in this fashion, head heavy and eyes blurred. Your eyes fluttered open, taking in the bland atmosphere and the warm sunlight coming in through the blinds. The room was standard and cold, but your eyes lit up when you saw who was there.

Shawn, Gus, Juliet, Lassiter, and even Chief Vick, all lost in conversation.

“You know, maybe we should throw a big party. Maybe with a ‘Congratulations on Not Dying’ banner. Thoughts?” Shawn asked.

Gus rolled his eyes. “No, Shawn. You don’t just throw parties for someone in the hospital.”

“Why not? It’s uplifting! I’ll get balloons and a cake that says ‘Y/N, Please Never Scare Us Like That Again.’” Shawn replied.

“It’s not the worst idea you’ve ever had.” Juliet added.

Lassiter crossed his arms. “The worst idea he ever had was pretending to be a psychic.”

“That is your small-minded interpretation of my God-given abilities.” Shawn replied, mockingly offended.

“Here we go.” Gus said.

You stirred and the team turned to look at you. They sighed a collective sigh of relief.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Juliet said. You smiled weakly in reply.

“How are you feeling?” Shawn asked.

“They almost bled out after being stabbed in the shoulder, how do you think they are feeling?” Gus added.

“You gave us a real scare back there, Bureau. Next time, try not to throw yourself into danger like some action movie hero.” Lassiter said.

“Yeah Y/N, how dare you do something brave and selfless. Lassie would prefer you to run away screaming.” Shawn quipped.

“I’d prefer for you to not end up in the hospital.” Lassiter said, grumbling.

“Lassiter just means we’re all really glad you’re okay.” Juliet added.

You smiled. Chief Vick spoke up. “We’re really proud of your bravery, and we’re glad to see you back.” She turned to everyone else. “Let’s give Detective Y/L/N some space.”

As the team left, you mustered the strength to speak. “Hey Lassiter.” You said. He turned back to look at you. “Nice shot.” You said and he almost cracked a smile.

“Considering your score on the Marksmanship Qualif-” You continued.

Lassiter interrupted by rolling his eyes and swiftly walking out of the room. Even Chief Vick smirked a bit at that.

Gus and Shawn were the last to leave. They headed toward the door when Shawn suddenly stopped. Gus turned to look at him and Shawn gestured for him to go ahead. Gus looked back at you and then back at Shawn. “Don’t say anything stupid.” He said.

He just grinned and looked at the floor in return. Gus smiled at you before walking out of the room.

Shawn turned back to you, eyes still on the floor and hands in his pockets. He walked back to sit down next to you.

“So, what are all the things you haven’t told me yet?” You asked.

He finally looked up at you. “You remember that?” He asked back.

“Answer my question first.” You said.

He chuckled a bit. After a moment he finally spoke up. “You scared the hell out of me,” he said softly, his voice unusually sincere. “I thought I lost you back there.”

You began to speak but he stopped you and continued. “I’ve been doing this thing where I crack jokes and avoid feelings because, you know, feelings are terrifying. But seeing you like that, seeing you hurt, it made me realize I can’t keep avoiding this.”

He leaned closer, his expression raw and unguarded. “I’m in love with you. There, I said it. I love you. I love the way you see the world, the way you keep me grounded when my brain’s flying off in eight different directions. I love the way you call me out when I’m being ridiculous and how you secretly laugh at my jokes when you think I’m not looking, and-”

You smiled and interrupted him. “Shawn.”

He looked back at you, looking completely vulnerable. You didn’t mind it, seeing him this way. It was different.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“I love you too.”

His face lit up and he let out a small, incredulous laugh. “You do?”

“Always have.” You admitted.

Shawn blinked, clearly taken aback. For once in his life, he was speechless. He ran a hand through his hair, his usual smirk replaced with a genuine, boyish grin.

"Wow," he finally said, sitting back slightly but still leaning close enough that you could see the sparkle in his eyes. "Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. I mean, I hoped. But hearing it? That’s...wow."

You chuckled softly, wincing a little at the motion, and Shawn immediately leaned forward, concern flashing across his face.

"Hey, hey, no laughing if it hurts," he said, his voice soft but firm. "Doctor Shawn prescribes...uh...smiling. Smiling’s safer."

"Smiling’s overrated," you teased, even as a small grin crept across your face.

"Not when you do it," he shot back, the flirtation in his tone genuine, not just his usual banter.

For a moment, there was silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Shawn reached out hesitantly, his hand brushing against yours on the bed.

“You know Gus sped me to the hospital in his work car? It may not look it but that thing can go pretty fas-”

"Shawn," you said.

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me already."

His eyes widened slightly, but only for a second before he leaned in. The kiss was gentle at first, as if he was afraid to hurt you, but it didn’t take long for him to melt into it. His hand moved up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

When he pulled back, his smile was brighter than you’d ever seen it.

"Okay, officially the best day ever," he said, his voice breathless.

"Even better than the time you solved the case of the stolen pineapple?" you teased.

"Way better," he said without hesitation. "Though we might need to commemorate this moment with a pineapple smoothie. For tradition, obviously."

You shook your head, laughing softly. "You’re impossible."

"And you’re stuck with me now," he said, grinning. "Forever."

"Forever doesn’t sound so bad," you replied, and the way he looked at you in that moment made you feel like it really wouldn’t be.

#shawn spencer oneshot #shawn spencer #psych #psych fanfiction #james roday rodriguez

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superwholocked2016 · 2 years ago

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If Psych had a Muppet movie

- Lassiter is the resident human

- Muppet Shawn! Is unaware that he is a muppet and is just like *gets hit by three consecutive pianos* “Wow! This should’ve killed me… I must be built different”

- Cookie Monster chomping down scene but it’s Gus and Shawn and a bunch of pharmaceutical pills for some reason

- A lot of famous puppet references

- “I’d rather be David Bowie in ‘The Dark Crystal’ right now.”

- “Gus don’t be a sock being controlled by a hand”

- “Gus don’t be whatever is happening between Bert and Ernie.”

- Let Juliet kick someone Miss Piggy style

- I don’t think Woody should be a Muppet, he should be a Oobi

- I think the bad guy should be hit by a bus and then it pans over to Gus and he goes “This is why you look both ways kids.”

- When Lassiter tries to do serious paperwork and turn it into Karen it turns into a song about paperwork

- Lassiter strangling Shawn but now it’s 10x funnier

- There’s so many famous people but none of them are important at all, Lassiter sits at a bar turns his head and Pedro Pascal is sipping a Shirley Temple and behind him is Clint Eastwood hands deep in some bar nuts

- “Gus don’t be a tennis ball who likes to play banjo”

- Let someone.. anyone cuss

- More points if the only scene of Shawn’s dad is him walking in the precinct saying “Fuck off.” And him walking straight back out

- Let Lassiter have a full song to himself, I need him to have a full ‘Man or Muppet’ type song

- Girlboss Gaslight- Juliet gets to shoot people like a Wilkins coffee ad

#Psych #shawn spencer #the muppets #it’s all i want #it’s all i need #i might draw this #and write an accompanying oneshot

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sacr3d-joeyxx · 1 year ago

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Overcoming Demons

Joey x Fem!Reader

Request from: iminlovewithmycarrrr

*Could you do a Joey jordison x reader where the reader is a vocalist and guitarist for a black metal band (she can scream and sing very well) and her band keeps playing the same gigs as slipknot and he just gets obsessed with the way she performs. The guys all tell Joey to ask her out*

Quinn’s POV

The crowd went wild as we performed our last song.. I said thank you and that it was a joy playing for Des Moines, Iowa. We as Ritualistic Suicide was done for the night. I was in love with the sound of encores and some occasional ‘I love you’.

It wasn’t hard to perform but it did come with its massive drawbacks, well just for me of course..Having to scream but also having to balance it with singing was hard. I got into black metal at the ripe age of 19 and I was sold when I heard the screams it was a form of art to me. Screaming is what I wanted to do nothing else but when we had to kick out the guitarist for getting arrested because of drugs but let’s get this straight there’s nothing wrong with doing drugs in this band but when we started to actually get gigs and record deals we all went cold turkey; well except him and he started to get involved with the law and then we all knew that the dude just simply had to go. I then took his spot after that. It sucked mostly because he named the band but it was whatever. So my job was now vocals and guitar…not impossible but it was in the beginning. I just had to learn differently, it took a lot of practice but it worked!

This time the black blood came out at the right time, it actually came out! It goes with our new single called ‘Homicide’ which ends with us covered in fake blood by it coming out near our eyes, mouths, ears and hands while playing. It’s kinda hard to explain how it works but anywhere you have tubing on your face you cover it with black face paint to balance it out; the tubes are a solid black color and it’s mechanically released with a push button that someone pushes backstage for us. It makes us look like we’re performing a sacrifice..I guess.. but a couple of drawbacks is it stains your skin like no other.. the other is getting it off your equipment..you see I have a pure white guitar, our bassist has a blood red one…you leave it on too long..well it’s fucking over..

Honestly I’d say the best part of this whole thing is a couple of things actually, first one is seeing the crowd; the way they listen to the music and move with the rhythm is a fish out of water experience. The second one is hearing our music on the radio or it getting mentioned in any form of media. Lastly getting all our cosmetics on, no black metal band is allowed to preform without it; well you can it’s just frowned upon in this profession. It’s funny seeing your closet friend’s faces in basically all white. You think you’re in a dream or something when you first start to put it on.

The best part about doing the makeup is the designs, most of the white face paint ends up in my hair by the end of the show, I look 50+ years older when I step off the stage. It comes out..kinda but it’s still going to be there for a couple of weeks..You’ll find white spots on your skin where you thought it was gone. It hides our face I guess but not really.. the band that almost always plays after us, especially when it’s a gig that could be a mix of all sorts of bands. They wear masks and red jumpsuits..crazy how much they look like a band in them. They are called Slipknot but I don’t know much about them really except for the band having nine people. I mean we have five people but nine is way too much yet they make it work.

Honestly they really intimidating, like they could all definitely be serial killers.. but they are the way they are for reasons. I’m taller than their drummer..he’s gotta be 5’3 or something. I’m 5’10..but there’s nothing wrong with short kings. I do think he’s kinda funny though, he’s just a mass of passion and speed. You could obviously tell when he plays that he enjoys what he does.

Any second now our drummer is gonna need my help to get the kick drum get in the case. The stage was already set and what not when we got there but literally 2 hours before opening Cam did something to it and just didn’t sound right anymore. Lucky for us I told him to pack an extra..of course he did but it’s fucking funny how the kick drum couldn’t survive a practice session.. nonetheless we fixed it just in time.

“Quinn! I need help..the kick drum..I can’t get it in the case!”

Bingo, like fucking clock work. I chuckled to myself as I walked over there and looked how it was placed in the case.

“Well, no shit..if you haven’t noticed.. you forgot to fold in the foam in the corner on the right..just tuck it back in”

He looked at me then itched his head, and went to go fix it before closing it and giving me a thumbs up..I rolled my eyes and turned to walk offstage..Now I had to find three others, it won’t be hard because they are in one of three places. The green-room, signings, or loading things on the bus. Normally we’d do signings but last time we did that someone brought a human skull..nothing wrong with that but none of us wanted to deface someone’s mom. So they’re not doing that…honestly I’m going go to go with the green-room; Declan, Mex, and Juz are all fat..not really but they have a tendency to stuff their faces with food after a performance like that.

I hope I’m not scarring any ‘normal person’ in my adventure to find the three stooges, but I probably will..It appears to always happen.

*Whatever the fucking sound is called when two people bump into each other when neither is paying attention.*

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Joey’s POV

She looked like a god..an immortal god…I don’t think I’ll ever be able to explain what she does to me. The makeup, her clothes, her hair.. she looked perfect..to me at least..I don’t think she’ll look my way..she’d have to look down as well..

I can’t remember how many times I’ve been doing the same gigs as them but it’s obvious that it’s on purpose. All of my band mates keep telling me to talk to her..I wish it was easy as that but I’m intimidated by her..she’s gotta be 6’1 and on top of that she’s in platforms..I have balls with certain things but women scare me..fucking weird how that works..your attracted to them but scared shitless of them.

Maybe I should go talk to her..fuck it…she had a great show and I should tell her..fuck it!

*Whatever the fucking sound is called when two people bump into each other when neither is paying attention.*

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Quinn’s POV

I brushed my hair out of my face and now knew why I didn’t see him..it’s cause he’s were fucking short.. but what’s funnier about this is that he’s wearing a bright red jumpsuit.

“Woah! Sorry man!”

“You’re good..I kinda was looking for you”

“Really? What do you need from me?”

“Just wanted to talk about how you preformed out there..”

“Oh..thank you! It was definitely up there with one of our first shows..mainly because it all went according to schedule…”

“You’re welcome..-“

“So sorry for cutting you off but I’ve gotta get going to find my mates, you can come along if you want..your set isn’t until 8:00pm and it’s 6:21pm now..”

“Uhhh-sure I’ve got time..”

“Cool..uhh just try and keep up, I’ve got long legs.. y’know..”

I walk fast, mean I don’t have a choice really I’ve given such long legs.. but they get longer in platforms..I turned the corner and looked at the wall with the little sign pointing left saying the green-room was that way…I looked back and the guy was still keeping up with me. Honestly he was probably sweating bullets under everything he was wearing, I would be too. I stopped before looking at the doors..bingo, found it. I looked back at him and he gave me a thumbs up..

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Joey’s POV

God..I honestly think she knows that I’m crazy about her..fuck..the things I would do to her..the bright white stage makeup with the black blood was still wet..her hands were covered in it. It looked like tree roots as it patterned up her wrists and eventually her arms. The messy jet black hair..covered in white makeup..I’m fucking obsessed with this woman..and she has to know..

“So.. you single…?”

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Quinn’s POV

I whipped my head around to him, I go wide-eyed while looking at him..I don’t know if he’s being serious or he’s just trying to be funny.

“Huh? Why are you asking..you interested?”

“……”

“Hello..I asked you a question?”

“..yeah..I am….”

“Huh..sorry I couldn’t hear you..”

“…..”

“Yeah, I am”

“You’re not like fucking with me are you?”

“….no?”

Oh so he’s actually being real..uh I don’t know what to do here I barely know him..should I give him my number.. shit I don’t know. This could be a set up from his band or mine..but I know mine wouldn’t fuck with me like this…they don’t have big enough balls to do so. He honestly doesn’t seem bad from what I can tell but he looks like he’s about to pass out from the stress of this situation..fidgety little guy..picking at his fingernails while waiting for my response.

“You’re one hundred percent positive?”

“Yes, I’m one hundred fucking percent positive..it’s a serious question..that I would like to know the answer to”

I could give him my number, I don’t have a piece of paper though.. but I happen to have a sharpie..

“Come here real quick..”

I reached into my back pocket and pulled at a sharpie as he made his way over here, I looked at him and smiled softly.

“Takes some balls to say that, y’know?”

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Joey’s POV

Okay..she took it well..maybe she’ll give me her number..oh wait she telling me to go to her..the hell is she doing digging in her back pocket..oh wait it’s a sharpie..fuck I don’t have any paper she can use..

“So..has this ever worked before?”

“Not really..I don’t don’t talk to them if I’m interested in them..they are scary..”

“Give me your hand real quick..hopefully it doesn’t rub off during your gig..”

I gave her my hand and she held it was she wrote her name and number on my hand..her hand was cold like a corpse..but who cares? I could see her looking at my chipped black fingernail polish..I looked up at her and we locked eyes for a moment.. the world went quiet and it felt like it stopped spinning..

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Quinn’s POV

I wrote my name and number on his hand and then looked at his nail polish that was black and in the process of chipping. I looked up at him and we locked eyes for a moment.. I felt the world stop I knew he did too.

“Thanks….Quinn..”

“You’re quite welcome”

“I’m going to head back now..”

“Okay..after your set come find me if we’re still here..if not then use my number.. answer it eventually”

I sighed softly as he began to walked away, I knew his gig was going to be a lot longer than ours was..they had a bigger fan base than we did but it’s whatever. I either had the choice to stay here another night or wait for him to text me.

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Joey’s POV

Fucking hell..wow I actually have her number and seems like she didn’t just give a fake one either. Okay..okay!! I guess that’s a win for me..

#joey jordison #corey taylor #sid wilson #chris fehn #craig jones #jim root #mick thomson #shawn crahan #paul gray #on my knees #oneshot #short story #oc #slipknot

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satelitis · 2 years ago

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there is a lack of shawn hunter content on here and i’m not here for it

#──★ ˙dal declarations !!#shawn hunter #shawn hunter x reader #shawn hunter imagine #shawn hunter oneshot #boy meets world

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theomniplayer · 8 months ago

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A group picture with all of the meta game player characters I’ve played along with my player character OC Robin (the red head)

This was another attempt at my guardian player type design with my sona here

This one is a bit old so Kalas isn’t here

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randomsillyfangirl · 2 years ago

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Look up at the stars - Shawn Mendes x reader

Plot: Shawns writing for you based on your favorite memory with him. Warnings: non, just wholesome Shawn <3

------------------------------------------------------------You and Shawn had been really close friends before you two started dating. You knew each other's likes and dislikes. You two seemed perfect together- and you were.

Shawn needed to write more songs for his Wonder album and couldn't stop thinking of you. Every moment you two shared together. He was thinking of you too much that ot became useless since he couldn't focus on a memory.

You knew Shawn would be stressed. So you came to check up on him. You sat next to him and gently held his hand. " is there anything I can do to help?" you offered, clearing the hair off of his forehead.

" what's your favorite memory of us together? " he asked, taking you up on your offer. You thought for a moment, " there's lots.. But probably when you took me to see the stars. It was gorgeous." you confessed.

You saw Shawn get a spark in his eye as he scribbled something on a piece of paper. He quickly showered your face in kisses. " you're amazing babe! " he basically yelled as you laughed.

You eventually left and he started to write the song. He was motivated knowing that it was your favorite memory together and he wanted to write you something perfect.

When wonder was realised and he started to do his tour, he wanted to announce the backstory of his favorite song ' look up at the stars '

While getting ready to perform this song, he started to give his little speech. " this song is about one of my favorite memories, with y/n. I will always take her to see the stars. " and as he spoke, the backing track started playing.

The fandom absolutely loved you. So when they heard this, there was nothing but love. And the song was a lyrical master piece.

As soon as Shawn was free, you couldn't wait to give him your opinion on the song- and album. He liked hearing praise from his work- but especially from you.

" what's your favorite song? " he asked you.

" my song. Look up at the stars." you said smiling and you showed him your new phone wallpaper. A picture of you and him, from that night, with the starry key in the background.

Perfection 💞

#Spotify #shawn mendes #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x you #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes oneshot #look up at the stars #wonder

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innammoratta · 2 years ago

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Bruce Wayne x Reader: Incorrect Quotes - 2

Y/N: "Thank you for walking me back."

Bruce: "My pleasure."

Y/N: *sees shadow inside her house and pauses* "I think someone's inside the house.."

Bruce: *creeps over to porch silently. Looks at Y/N and points to his eyes with two fingers then points at the rooftop, forming a plan.*

Y/N: *confused* "You want me to stab you in the eyes on the rooftop?"

#psych quotes #not mine #psych the movie #shawn spencer #henry spencer #incorrect quotes #gotham #bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #batman #bruce wayne #dc x reader #dc oneshots #funny #dc x you #gotham x you #gotham x reader

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obsidiancreates · 1 year ago

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The Fabric Of The Universe Is A Little Coarse (1 Out Of 5 Stars) Part 1

(Content warning for a psychic-induced seizure-like state and sensory overload-like experience).

“Alright, Mr. Spencer.” The chief gestures at the girl sitting in the interrogation room. She’s young, maybe mid-twenties, with short curly hair like a black-and-white movies actress gathered around her cheeks like ginger clouds. “You have ten minutes.”

“All I need, Chief, and I’ll have time for a game of Eye Spy before I leave.”

“It’s I-Spy, Shawn.”

“That’s what I said.”

“No, you said Eye Spy.”

“What difference are you hearing exactly, Gus?”

“A clear one!”

“I can’t do this with you right now. Chief, I’ll be back in less time than Lassie spends on his hair in the morning.”

“Hey!”

“You’re right Lassie, that isn’t fair, you’ve stepped up your game a lot in the last few years. Keep at it buddy. Someday, you’ll be on par with me. Or more likely just slightly below, because, well.” He chuckles and gestures at his own hair with a flippant gesture, and ducks out to the door of the interrogation room before Lassie fully processes the tangent.

He shakes himself loose and steps into the room, looking through the one-way glass and grinning straight at Lassie. He can’t see-see his friends on the other side, exactly, but he knows where they are and how they're moving. He really doesn’t get why every interrogation room has these ‘one-way windows’– or how there are people who can’t ‘see’ through them. Just another obvious thing that he’s the only one who picks up on, somehow.

He whirls around and smiles at the girl, who looks confused to say the least. “Hello. My name is Shawn Spencer, head psychic of the SBPD–”

The confusion turns into horror so quickly it leaves Shawn actually, physically reeling back. The girl puts her hands over her head and screams, pushing her chair away! “NO! NO NO NO! I WON’T TALK TO A PSYCHIC, NO!”

“Whoa, whoa, I’m not–!” Not what? Not psychic? He can’t finish his sentence with that. Not a ‘bad’ psychic? This girl obviously had some bad experiences in the past, he gets the feeling she won’t accept that claim, especially not from him. Not going to read her psychically? Then there’s no reason for The Chief to keep him on the case!

He doesn’t have to worry about that last part much longer, because Lassie storms in and grabs him by the bicep, dragging him out of the room and into the observation area again.

“Well, that was a waste of time,” Lassie says. “Great job keeping the witness calm and cooperative, Spencer.”

“Really, Lassie? I didn’t even do anything but introduce myself! Clearly, she had encountered psychics with much less strong morality than I possess.” He ignores the looks Gus gives him at ‘strong morality’. “I can hardly be blamed for the poor behavior of my psychic brethren.”

“We can blame you for not ‘sensing’ that beforehand.”

“Lassie. You realize if you do that, you’re also saying you believe me?”

Lassie snaps his mouth shut, and then scowls. He points a finger in Shawn’s face, but no rebuttal comes out of his mouth. Instead he turns, barking for his partner to come down and join him on the interrogation.

“Well, it looks like your services are no longer–”

“Wait, wait, Chief. Listen, even if I can’t be in there to ask the questions, I can still read her from out here. Let me stay to watch, at least.”

“Well… fine. But given her strong, aversion to you, you are not to give any sign you are still here, understand? That means no… shouting questions at Lassiter and O’Hara, or barging in when they’re finally making progress, and no–”

“Interrupting?”

She levels him with an unamused glare. Shawn holds up his hands in surrender, but can’t help the slight chuckle that escapes him. The Chief just shakes her head, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and turns to leave. She passes Lassie and Jules on her way out, and Shawn and Gus settle into place to watch the interrogation.

“What do you think happened to her to make her react to you like that?” Gus whispers as Jules and Lassie sit down and introduce themselves.

“I dunno. Maybe scammed her?”

“Seems like a strong reaction for scamming.”

“Yeah… maybe Lassie and Jules will clear it up.”

Sure enough, after the main bit of questioning is over (the girl is nervous and fidgety the whole time, but Shawn clocks that her necklace is one of those chewable toys usually used for anxiety or autism, and the hem of her shirt is wrecked from constant tugging and picking over a long period of time– she’s not lying about anything, she’s just legitimately stressed out) Jules leans in.

“So, before you leave, can I ask something a little more… personal?”

“Um, I-I guess.”

“My partner told me that when you met Shawn, you–”

“Panicked.” She looks around again. “He um– he said he’s psychic.”

“He says that, yes.” Lassie’s entire being screams about how he doesn’t believe it, and Jules ignores him.

“He’s been working with our department for a few years now, and he’s helped us solve a lot of cases. It’s pretty likely he’ll work on this one, too.”

The girl tugs at the hem of her shirt. “Years?

“Yes. And I can assure you, personally, that’s he’s actually a very good person. … Annoying, more often than not, and a little egotistical–”

Lassie laugh-scoffs.

“Okay, more than a little egotistical–”

“Does she know we’re still listening?” Shawn whispers to Gus.

“– but a good person.”

The girl chews her lip for a second. “Sorry, I’m not… saying I don’t believe you. It’s just… well, I’ve had a lot of experience with psychics, Detective. I worked as a researcher in the field of metaphysical studies for a time–”

“That’s a field? Who the hell is deciding where funding goes these days?” Lassie seems more perplexed than anything else.

“It is a field, Detective, and a viable one. Yes, most of the psychics we saw were fake, but some were real. And they were…”

“... Were?”

“... It’s not… their fault.” She seems to be choosing her words carefully now. “All of them shared traits of manipulative tendencies, compulsive lying, depersonalization.”

Shawn scoffs. “Now she’s making up words.”

“Depersonalization is a real thing, Shawn.”

“What?”

“It means viewing a person as not really a person, including yourself. Like, treating them like a game.”

“Oh. … All the time?”

“I dunno. … What? I only read one article!”

Lassie looks a little too delighted at the table. “Really? What about, oh, I don’t know… a need to always one-up someone?”

“Sort of, yes. Psychics are… you’re going to think I sound crazy.”

“Oh, if you had spoken with Spencer, you’d know we’ve had to develop a high tolerance for crazy talk.”

“... Well, they’re sort of… the universe’s favorites. We tracked patterns of incredible luck, not just from having visions, but generally impossibly lucky situations all around. By the time I left the program because of my experiences, the theory was that because they were so much more closely connected to the primordial and essential makeup of the universe itself, it made sure to keep them, for the most part, safe and successful. That’s not to say they never had hardships, just that… things would always work out in the end.”

“Yeah, but that’s just life.” Shawn shrugs.

“Not for most people, Shawn. You just have some of the weirdest luck in the world.”

“Gus, I’ve been shot and punched and pistol-whipped, some of those more than once. I don’t think that’s lucky.”

“You haven’t gotten killed yet though.”

“What do you mean yet?”

The girl goes on. “And because life sort of bends around them, they… play. With people, usually. Not maliciously, but… they don’t experience things the same way we do. Does your psychic seem to align with that?”

“Absolutely.” Jules sighs. “Shawn never follows the rules, but everything always goes his way in the end. It’s impressive, and usually very helpful to us, but…”

“Irritating.”

“I was going to say difficult to work with at times. … But my partner isn’t wrong.”

“Seriously, do they know we’re here?” Shawn reaches up to knock on the glass, but Gus grabs his hand before he can directly disobey The Chief like he usually does.

The girl nods. “Like I said, it’s not entirely their fault, but it means you should be… cautious. He’s the only psychic you’ve ever known, right?”

“He is.”

“You can’t really believe whatever he presents himself as to you. Think of the universe like a… a woven rug. Not knitted or woven with little threads, but like… one made of long, inconsistent scraps of old clothes, or blankets, things like that. It’s messy, and unsymmetrical, and it seems chaotic, but it’s actually carefully crafted.”

Shawn tilts his head. “That… sounds familiar.”

“It does?” Gus frowns. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard this analogy in my life.”

“And what, you’ve heard all of them?”

“Most of them. I took a philosophy class for half a semester in college.”

“Man, you took that class because of all the hot nerdy girls and barely paid attention.”

“How did you–”

“Uh, I know you, and have since forever? Just, trust me, man, I’ve… I’ve heard this before. Somewhere.”

Jules is nodding as the girl talks. “But what does this have to do with why you’re afraid of Shawn?”

“Well, all of us, everything we know, this physical world, isn’t actually in the weave. Imagine us like… appliqués. We’re all existing on top of the base of the universe, apart of it but not truly one with it. Life happens around us, and we can influence it in ways, but most of what we experience is already woven tight.”

Shawn isn’t sure when he started leaning in to listen– he only notices he’s moved when Gus has to put a hand out and keep him from falling into the glass.

“Shawn, are you okay?”

Shawn blinks. The room is tilting a little, and he feels…

He flexes his hands. Something is under them. He can feel a faint scrape against his fingernails, but they’re itching at nothing but air. “I uh… yeah, buddy. I just… swear I’ve heard this before…”

The girl has spread out an old sheet of paper on the table, and put her chew toy on top. “We’re all here, on this top layer. But psychics aren’t. They’re born with a deeper connection to the universe at large. To put it simply, while we’re all applied on top, psychics are–”

“– woven directly in.”

Shawn sits in his grandma’s lap as she makes a little rug out of his old baby clothes. He’s two years old at the most, probably younger, chewing on his thumb and trying to grab the scraps of fabric away from his grandma’s hands. He’s never remembered anything far back before.

“Someday you’ll be able to feel it,” she says. “I wish I could tell you when, but it’s hard to see. Everything else is a layer, easy to observe and pick apart, but you and I are side-by-side. I can’t follow your… well, this isn’t exactly thread, is it? Cord, how about?”

“And because they’re woven directly in, they can manipulate the cords around them.” Shawn hears the girl, but almost distantly– he’s also facing the floor now, and Gus’s arm is bracing his chest, and Gus is saying his name but Shawn isn’t sure he can answer because he’s not sure he’s here right now.

He flexes his hands again, feeling his nails scrape against thick bundles of fabric tightly bound together, hearing the faint sound of dull bumping even though he’s not touching anything but air.

“When they have a vision, or an intuition, it’s–”

“– the universe sending a signal. It’s like it’s… asking us for help, to change something. It wants to change something, but it can’t just unravel itself. It needs us to help it change shape and–”

“– shift outcomes. They can follow cords in all directions, moving throughout the weave itself, which manifest as their psychic abilities. They can follow it back to what was, forwards to what will be, and side to side to what is. Even when they aren’t aware of this connection–”

“– you’ll still feel it. I know your father has… specific plans for you, so you probably won’t be able to distinguish one gift from another. You’ll be drawn to certain details, know by instinct what will be important later even if there’s no reason it should seem important now. You’ll know things you shouldn’t be able to know, and won’t even realize you shouldn’t.”

Shawn’s breaths are coming in gasps. He feels it pressing in, the tight cords and bundles, feel them wrapped around his hands and running through his skull–

“For things like mind reading, knowing about people on a personal level, think of the underside of an appliqué. It’s not the polished, presentable side, it’s the mess that shows what goes into the whole image. The underside is where you’ll find the messy threads, the jumbled colors, the weird patterns that go into the clear picture of the finished product. Psychics can–”

“– look at what fundamentally makes up a person, the nitty-gritty details, not just the whole picture. We can see what other people can’t. Even the person we’re reading might not know everything that goes into their makeup, and we can see them better than they see themselves.”

Shawn isn’t facing the floor anymore. He’s facing the ceiling, and Gus, who’s shaking him. Is he shaking him? Shawn is shaking. He’s shaking and he’s bound up tightly in cords and scraps and threads and it’s not concrete under his hands but a rug and his fingers can’t stop scraping it over and over and over, bump bump bump bump–

“Shawn!”

He wants to say something but his mouth won’t work. There’s a cord running through it, and another, and another, through his whole body, he can feel each one and he can see them and as he runs his hands over more it’s so much.

Bump. He tastes chicken parmesan and asparagus and knows it’s the last taste someone will ever experience. Bump. He smells old-lady perfume and smoke and it’s arson, the perfume is the accelerant, he chokes on the smoke and the heavy floral fragrance. Bump. He sees a red car speeding down the road and someone is on the phone, they’re not paying attention until they hear the roaring engine and by then it’s too late–

“It’s easy to get lost in. Sometimes we’re pulled apart, when we get too encompassed by the weave, and our physical bodies can’t really handle it. That’s why it’s going to be very important that you find people who care about you, Shawn. It’ll be tempting to toy with everything and let it work itself out, but you can’t rely on that all the time. The universe is on your side, but it doesn’t always know what’s good for you. You need to make a good life, good choices, good relationships, or else you won’t–”

“– snap out of it!” Shawn’s not here. Gus is screaming from somewhere else. He’s caught in the tight cords but he’s shaking too, and he can’t stop, and he’s somewhere else and his eyes aren’t focusing and he can’t feel anything but he can feel everything, the cords running through his body thrumming with the whole wide world and more and he’s more and it’s too small a space for so much–

“Guster, what the hell are you–! Holy–”

“Oh my god, Shawn! Gus, what–”

“I don’t know! He just collapsed and started seizing!”

“MCNAB! CALL AN AMBULANCE!”

“Has this ever happened before?!”

“No!”

“Shawn, Shawn try to focus on me–”

Jules’s hands touch his face and he feels the already tight cords snap into a specific pattern, and the ones in his mouth finally loosen up and he’s still not here but he is and he’s everywhere all at once and her whole life travels along the top of one cord and it’s running right through his skull–

“Stay with us Shawn, don’t go, oh my god don’t go we need more time, there’s so much we still have to work out–”

It’s not Jules saying it aloud. Her eyes go wide as Shawn recites every frantic thought running through her head, the words pouring into him and spilling right back out.

Her hands pull away and his head can’t steady itself and a new hand catches his face and–

“Don’t you dare leave me Shawn! I need you, I need you, I can’t imagine my life without you in it, don’t you dare leave me alone out here it’s supposed to be us against everything not just me–”

Gus’s hand pulls away with a whispered “Oh my god,” and a sound like crying but they’re too close for Shawn to see their faces, everything’s close and far and here and there and Now and Then and Happened and Happening and it’s So. Much.

“Oh my go– Carlton, get the first aid kit! He’s bleeding!”

“What?!”

“He’s bleeding, Carlton! From–from his his nose and his ears, I don’t–”

“MCNAB! WHERE THE HELL IS THE AMBULANCE?!”

“It’s easy to get lost in. Sometimes we’re pulled apart. It’s easy to get lost in, sometimes we’re pulled apart. It’s easy to get lost in sometimes we’re pulled apart It’s Easy To Get Lost In Sometimes We’re Pulled Apart.”

Shawn sees Lassie’s face join Jules and Gus above him, all three twisted with panic and fear and care.

And then.

He Unravels.

#psych #psychusa #psych usa #psych 2006 #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic #real psychic shawn spencer #This was meant to be a oneshot but fuck it I guess

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salemshotspot · 9 months ago

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THEIR HEARTBREAK KID

Shawn Michaels x Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

DESC: Shawn punishes his partner

Gender Neutral Reader [They/Them]

WARNINGS: Implied Smut//Spanking//Shouting//Not Proof Read//I Think There’s A Swear Word But I Can’t Remember//Degrading [The Word Brat]

A/N >> IM SO SO SORRY THIS IS AWFUL.

TAGS: @azeliashorridstuff902 @simpin4pixels

Enjoy!

——————————————————————————

Ever since y/n and Shawn met, Shawn had the more dominant energy of the two; in every aspect of his life he was always confident and found pleasure in taking charge, which is why it didn’t surprise y/n when Shawn wanted to introduce ‘unconventional’ practices into their relationship. Shawn has always believed in strict discipline in order to ensure continued good behaviour which is why Shawn has took it upon himself to ensure that his lovely y/n gets the disciplining they need when they break a rule which Shawn has only put in place ‘with their best interest at heart.’

A recent rule which Shawn had put in place for y/n was they had to cut down on the amount of energy drinks they have because quite frankly it was becoming a problem; Thursday had rolled around and y/n had already had their weekly allowance of energy drinks and they were craving another one, one more couldn’t hurt right? It was a victimless crime as Shawn was going to be out later than usual as he had a meeting at work. This was enough to convince y/n to go over to the fridge and grab their favourite energy drink before taking it back over the to couch to continue watching whatever happened to be on.

‘This is nice’ y/n thought to themself, but of course nothing nice lasts forever, they were about half way through their drink when they heard the sound of a key being inserted into the front door echo through the house and before they could even think about trying to hide their drink they heard Shawn’s voice excitedly shout throughout the house.

‘Y/n I’m home, the meeting didn’t run over for as long as I thought-‘

Shawn stopped in the door way and furrowed his eyebrows at his partner as his eyes darted between the can set on the table, seemingly sweating from the condensation dripping down the side of the can, and his partner who seemed to be mimicking the can with a bead of sweat trickling down the side of their head.

As y/n grabbed for the can in an attempt to hide what Shawn had already seen, he stepped further into the room and, in an assertive tone, Shawn said to y/n ‘don’t bother.’

Shawn was willing to overlook this misdemeanour on account of the fact that he had a more than fine day at work and he knows everybody makes mistakes; he was ready to completely ignore y/n's disobedience in favour of a simple conversation.

‘Y/n’ Shawn started, ‘we need to talk about you and your disobedience’ he continued.

However Shawn’s problem of constantly appearing angry and disappointed mixed with y/n’s pride was never going to be ideal. Y/n felt a combination of both embarrassment and guilt from betraying and being caught by Shawn caused them to immediately grow defensive.

‘I’m an adult Shawn I can make my own decisions’ they snapped back at the older man, causing him to accusingly raise an eyebrow at his partner.

In a voice more dominant than a moment earlier Shawn replies ‘watch your tone y/n and remember who-‘ Shawn couldn’t even finish his sentence before y/n abruptly stood up and practically shouted ‘I’m not a child Shawn.'

With that y/n stormed into their shared bedroom and locked the door to hide the shame they felt, y/n was overcome with immense shame, they don’t know why they shouted at their boyfriend but they were too embarrassed to apologise to Shawn right now, they just needed some time alone.

‘Brat’ Shawn muttered to himself before sighing in both confusion and worry about their partner before attempting to open the bedroom door.

Shawn loudly knocked on the bedroom door and began speaking once again; ‘y/n you’re going to open this door now’ waiting for his partner to do as he says, however upon hearing no response his demeanour changed, it softened for a brief moment.

‘..baby’ he began. L

Before Shawn could continue y/n reluctantly opened the door, shrinking away from the older man, feeling guilty. Relieved they were ok, Shawn gently pulled them closer and placed a gentle kiss on their head, before relief could wash over y/n, Shawn stated in a low register.

‘Somebody’s attitude is in need of fixing isn’t it sweetheart?’ causing y/n to frown.

Shawn smirks; ‘don’t get shy on me now darlin’ that won’t work on me’ before leading them over to the couch and sitting down, leaving y/n stood anxiously before him.

Y/n knew what was coming, that didn’t stop their eyes widening in fear and it certainly didn’t stop them from biting their lip in anticipation as Shawn beckoned for them to lay their frame over his unnervingly inviting lap.

Once y/n had lay on Shawn’s lap he grabbed their hands and stretched them out in front of his partner before taunting ‘are you going to behave and keep those arms there like a good brat hm?’ to which y/n shyly nod, causing Shawn to smirk.

Shawn gently rubbed his hand down his partner’s back until he reached their coveted ass, to which he raised an eyebrow before, admittedly roughly, ripping the fabric, causing y/n to whimper as their bare behind was exposed to the cold air.

Shawn made a mental note to buy his partner some new pants before smugly mocking their reaction to the swift temperature change; ‘are you cold brat? Well let me warm you up.’ Shawn announces before striking their left cheek, causing y/n to wince from the sensation of shock and pain, causing their hands to desperately grab at the couch cushion.

Striking the same spot again, Shawn’s voice bellows across the house ‘you know what you did to deserve this punishment don’t you.’ Y/n took too long to answer, prompting Shawn to strike the untouched cheek hard.

‘A-ahh’ y/n whined loudly 'yes Shawn.’

Shawn swiftly lowered his head to his partner’s ear ‘use your words brat and this time use my name’ he spat the words down their ear canal.

Already throbbing from their punishment, y/n didn’t want to provoke Shawn to upgrade his punishment ‘I’m sorry sir’ they started ‘i’m sorry I disobeyed you.’

As y/n spoke Shawn gently rubbed their throbbing right cheek only to strike it once they stopped speaking.

‘What else’ Shawn barked.

Upon feeling Shawn’s usually gentle hand assault their cheek y/n instinctively attempted to crawl off of Shawn’s lap only for Shawn to grab their legs to hold them in place, striking them again to punish their Insubordination.

‘Don’t you dare brat.’

Whimpering at the sensation y/n continued ‘..and I’m sorry I gave you attitude, I was just upset I upset you’ they said in a whisper.

This revelation caused Shawn’s heart to momentarily sink, he hated seeing them upset but he couldn’t back out of the punishment now. His demeanour once again momentarily softened ‘good baby we’re nearly done, for each energy drink you’ve had this week, each cheek gets a spank.’

Y/n nodded defeatedly and braced for impact before Shawn continued.

‘Count out loud for me brat, I want to hear you learn your lesson’ Shawn says as he brings his hand down to y/n’s left cheek.

‘One’ they choke out.

With the same force Shawn smacks his hand down; ‘two’ y/n says in a tearful whisper.

‘Three’ y/n yelps as Shawn relentlessly uses his hand to make their cheeks glow.

‘F-four’ y/n cries.

‘Five’ they say with a gulp before Shawn moves over to the right cheek.

‘You’re doing so good for me baby, you’re nearly there’ Shawn says, his breathe hot on y/n’s ear.

Y/n blushes, the prospect of their punishment nearly being over mixed with the pain turning to pleasure causes them to forget to continue counting for Shawn.

‘Don’t make me change my mind y/n I can start again without a blink of the eye.

‘S-sorry sir, one’ they practically shout, causing Shawn to smirk at their desperation.

Another strike to the raw cheek has y/n crying, ‘two’ they whimper.

Shawn decides to pick up the pace, the next two strikes coming in quick succession; ‘thre- four.’

Biting his lip at the sight of his whimpering partner’s raw, inviting ass, Shawn strikes them for a final time, through hitched breathe they cry out ‘five.’

With the final strike, Shawn delicately pulls his partner up to sit them on his knee, the feeling of their their throbbing behind coming in contact with Shawn’s knee causing them to yelp and Shawn to softly chuckle.

Upon feeling pain surge through them y/n instinctively buries their face into the crook Shawn's neck, desperately seeking comfort. Shawn pulls them closer and whispers into their ear ‘I hate having to hurt you sweetheart, why don’t you let me make it up to you baby, don’t think I didn’t notice the heat growing between your legs as I smacked it into my thigh.’

Y/n blushed burying their face further into Shawn’s neck, they nodded at his suggestion and softly spoke against his neck.

‘My heartbreak kid.’

#shawn michaels x reader #shawn michaels #hbk #heartbreakkid #heart break kid #heartbreak kid #hbk x reader #heartbreak kid x reader #wwe #wwe imagine #wwf x reader #wwe x reader #wwe oneshot #90s wwf #wwf superstars #wwf #salemshxtfics

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mywrittingwonderland · 6 months ago

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5. Everything means nothing if I don’t have you

Some more fluffiness of my favorite couple.

Is someone even reading this? LOL!

Have fun! And I apologize for the mistakes in advance.

- - - -

June

Sophia hadn’t really left Shawn’s house much since they became official. They were unofficially living together, after the first week she had her own key, her own drawer and even her own working spot close to him. The first time they were apart was when Shawn had to go on a day trip for press, and neither of them were able to sleep that well that night. He was so used to her using him as her own personal pillow that he missed the way her head would always be laying on his chest, right above his heart. No matter how they would go to sleep without fail that’s how they would wake up. He felt unease and regret for not catching the 1a.m. flight after the red carpet and getting back to her sooner, he thought about calling her but he also didn’t want to risk waking her up. Just when he was about to give up and go read a book instead of sleeping he felt his phone vibrating.

“Hi Baby, I thought you were in dreamland when we hanged up” He said, remembering how he stayed on the phone with her to make sure she would sleep.

“Shawn” Her voice sounded trembly and he did not like that for one second.

“What’s up, Honey?” he asked switching the call so he could see her and make sure she was okay.

“I miss you”

“I miss you too, I will be home later today”. He said bitting on his lip and wishing he could hug her out of whatever was bothering her. “Did something happen?”

“I had a nightmare”

“You had a nightmare? Oh, I am so sorry, Lovey. Do you wanna talk about it?”

“You were coming back from the red carpet and someone shot you right before you entered the house. And then- then…”

“Hey, I am okay. No bullets, I promise.” He said trying to calm her down. He also looked up the next flight he could take, since he had no hopes of getting back to sleep. “Baby I am changing my flight, I will be home in 3hs”.

“Wait, no Shawn, you should get some sleep. I shouldn’t have called you.” She said instantly getting worried.

“No, Honey, I couldn’t get to sleep without you anyways, don’t worry. We can sleep the whole day together with no nightmares.” He said, texting Andrew to let him know he was going home sooner, and getting up to get dressed and leave.

- - - - - -

July

“So, are you officially living together or what?” Brian asked after crashing the couple’s breakfast for the 2nd time that week. Sophia had just left to go to the toilet so he jumped the question.

“Hm, I mean, no, not really”. Shawn replied, sounding a bit unsure. They hadn’t really discussed much about their living situation, although Sophia was not going to her house that much. Brian looked at him silently asking if he was sure about that. “She has her place with Connor remember?”

“Do you remember?” He asked.

“Oh shut up”.

“Shawn, seriously, are you sure you two are not going way too fast? Don’t get me wrong, I know you haven’t been this happy since I have known you, but tour stats in a few months and I am just worried you might lose your sense of personal space or something”

“Brian what are you talking about?”. He asked, really not understanding what Brian was up to.

“All I am saying is, it might be harder for you when you go away. I just don’t want you to have one more thing to be anxious over, that’s all.” He said, but before Shawn could think of a reply on how crazy Brian was sounding Sophia got back to the table and they dropped the topic.

Sophia half heard the conversation and got a little self conscious, she thought she might be imposing her presence too much in Shawn’s space and she got worried about what Brian was saying. If he got back to touring and he was more anxious because of her she wouldn’t be able to forgive herself, so she made a personal note to go sleep home that night. Once Shawn was gone for the studio she made him a fresh batch of cookies, because he happened to mention he was craving cookies that morning, and then she got her book in the nightstand and her working equipment before driving for her house.

“Hellooo”. She said as soon as she got inside, expecting Connor to be there. But then she remembered he would definitely be with Shawn in the studio, so she just ended up in her kitchen making herself some tea and getting back to writing.

Shawn on the other hand finally got to finish his talk with Brian, this time with Connor also present while they were on their lunch break with takeout pizza, since Shawn didn’t wanna leave the studio and find a restaurant without paps.

“Connor, do you also think Sophia and Shawn are just going too fast?”. Brian blunted out making Shawn drop his pizza slice and look at him as of saying: not this again.

“As long as he has no intentions of breaking by best friend’s heart I think they are doing okay, you tell us Shawn”.

“I think Brian is way too invested in my love life all of a sudden”. Shawn said, getting a bit annoyed.

“Bro, I am honestly just worried about you”. He said putting up his arms in surrender.

“I thought about what you said this morning, and perhaps it was my mistake to not ask her to move in already. I know it might seem like we are going too fast, but I just really love her so much, and I wanna spend every single minute I can with her before we actually have to be apart for tour.” He explained. “And Connor I have no intention of breaking my soulmate’s heart, ever.”

The boys continued to talk for a little bit before Shawn had to get back to rehearsals. Shawn was relieved when his day was over, he missed Sophia, and she hadn’t texted him the entire day, which was making him worry something was up. When he entered the house he immediately felt the smell of cookies in the air, it looked like she had just pulled them out of the over some minutes ago.

“Babyyy, where are you? These are so good.” He said grabbing a cookie and going searching for her around the condo. He quickly noticed she wasn’t in any of her spots and her book and computer were also not in the house, so he grabbed the phone and called her.

Sophia completely forgot about her phone, she used to do that a lot whenever she would get lost in a book.

“Wait Shawn, I literally just got home. Phi, are you home?” Connor asked giggling between his keys, phone and camera bag. She wasn’t in the kitchen anymore, Connor went to look at her tiny library and found her very deep into reading. “Yeah she is here. Okay sure, I will let her know”

“Oh hey Con, I swear I didn’t see you there”

“Yeah I noticed. Shawn is coming over by the way.” Connor said making his way to sit beside his friend. “He was super worried when he got home and your cookies were there but you weren’t”

“Oh, that wasn’t my intention, I mean he did want cookies this morning, but I didn’t want to make him worried, I just thought I might give him some space today. Just in case. I have been over his house way too much”. She said, sounding a bit insecure.

“I personally don’t think he minds, but you can talk once he gets here”. He said giving her a kiss on the forehead and leaving her to get back to reading. Shawn was there in less than 15 minutes, and Connor opened up for him.

“She is reading”

Shawn walked inside and went straight to her library, he leaned on the door for a bit observing how focused she was in her book. Until she notice his presence and smiled at him making him instantly smiling back and getting close to her for a kiss.

“You got me worried, Missy” He said waiting for her to mark up her book before engulfing her in a tight hug.

“I am sorry, I just thought I might be way too much in your space, I don’t want to suffocate you”. She said making him frown. “I head a bit of what Brian was saying this morning.” She explained making him understand where she was coming from.

“I am totally killing Brian tomorrow” He said making her laugh. “Baby you don’t suffocate me”.

“Are you sure? I mean I have been over a lot, and I know it’s not my house, and I don’t-” He interrupted her rambling by kissing her gently.

“I am sure. You could never suffocate me. And about that, I wanted to ask you something”. He said and she waited for him to continue. “Do you wanna just stay over indefinitely? Because, it’s no longer home without you.”

“Really?”

“Mhm, oh and you can change whatever you want, let’s make it ours?” He said with a big smile on.

“Okay I think I would love that”

- - - - - -

August

“Sweetie, I am sure my parents will love you, in fact I am sure they already love you.” Shawn said trying to reassure his girlfriend.

“Still, Shawn we have to make sure to welcome them properly, so please help me out with what I should cook for them”. She said, half ignoring what he was saying and coming back into what Connor would call the wonder hostess mode.

“Phi, are you sure you don’t want to just order take out? I don’t want you to stress too much about this.” He said, worried that she was overdoing it.

“No, that would make me a very bad hostess. I am not having that. You know that.” She said looking up from the list she was making to make sure he understood what she was saying.

“Okay, fine. I think that your Ravioli al Pesto will make everyone happy”. He gave in, receiving a smile back from her.

“How about Tiramisu for dessert?”

“That’s perfect, Love.” He kissed her forehead. “My only condition is that you let me help you cook, it will make me feel better”

“But Shawn, you don’t really know how to cook”

“Teach me, please?”

And teach him she would, over the months Shawn learned probable more about cooking than he had his entire life, and he really was up to making the extra effort because she was constantly making him small things, brownies because he seemed sad, blue cookies because she was re-reading Percy Jackson, and many other instances in which she would learn his favorite treats and home made them. He wanted to be able to do the same for her, so he took it very serious.

There was something he was right about though, his family loved her, in fact he thought they might love her even more than he loved her, if that was even possible.

“Phi, you have to come to my Hockey game on Friday, I wanna talk more to you before my brother’s birthday when we have to be with everyone.” Aaliyah said by end of dinner, while helping Sophia with getting dessert.

“Really? I would love to come!” She said getting excited while finishing to cut the tiramisu pieces.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes, go for it”

“Is my Brother treating you right? Because I swear if he isn’t I will beat him up for you”. Sophia have out a loud laugh at that which made Shawn join the girls in the kitchen.

“What’s up?”

“I am just checking with her that you are being a gentlemen since she is just way too good, I won’t allow you to break her heart.” Sophia blushed at Aaliyah’s statement and all of a sudden she was a bit overwhelmed by the attention and love the new Mendes was giving her.

“Never, but I appreciate you also taking care of my Angel”. Shawn said grabbing Sophia’s hand for a kiss on her forehead. “Isn’t she cute?” He asked his sister while Sophia conveniently hid her red face in his chest for a second.

“Shawn she might just be my favorite sister, sorry”. Shawn smiled and hugged his girlfriend while still paying attention to Aaliyah.

“I am okay with that”. Shawn said looking at his girlfriend and noticing how her eyes were full of tears.

“You guys are making me cry”. Sophia said, not knowing how to handle the love she was getting. “Come here”. She said hugging Aaliyah. “Thank you, I also can’t wait to have a sister”.

- - - - - -

September

“So what’s your plan for today”. Connor asked Shawn, and he gave him a clueless look.

“Well, rehearsals? And probably call mom and dad tonight, why?”He questioned the blonde’s sudden interest for his day.

“Shawn you do know what day is today right?” Connor asked, and Shawn quickly revised his brain for something he might have missed, but nothing did come to mind.

“I have no idea what you are talking about Connor, where we supposed to do some external shooting for the doc and I am forgetting it?” Connor eyes widened in surprise for his answer.

“Dude, you are so screwed”

“What? What did I do?”

“Phi didn’t happen to mention today is her birthday, right? Why am I not surprised? She never loved her own birthdays.” He said tapping his friend’s back in comfort.

“Connor, are you serious? Please tell me this is a prank?”Shawn asked fully entering panic mode when he realised he actually never asked his girlfriend when was her birthday, and it happened to be conveniently exactly a month after his, September 8th.

“I would never, here I sent her happy birthday this morning”. He said showing Shawn the text and Sophia’s thank you response.

“Holy shit, I need to go”. Shawn said, quickly looking around and gathering his things and his keys. “Can you smooth things with Andrew for today? I will talk to him later, and thank you, you are the best friend ever” He quickly said running out of the studio and into his car.

He felt very bad, he never actually asked her when it was, and this week was very crazy with all the final preparations for the Global Citizen’s festival, and also Niall’s birthday coming up.

“Fuck me, all week talking to her about Niall’s birthday and the festival”. He said gripping on the wheel, he remembered what she did for him on his birthday, she actually organised all the tiny details and baked his cake, he didn’t want anything big, so they all went with his family and the crew to a small retreat in her family’s countryside in London. She also had an amazing gift for him.

“Well, I know that you are allergic to dogs, so I thought maybe I could get you some other kind of best friend, plus Pinky was a bit lonely.” He replayed her words in his head and this new horse that was currently being taken care by her grandparent’s in their farm, and of course he was Pinky’s best friend. He remembered that she also explained to him that she had done a lot of research on anxiety after she was diagnosed soem years ago, and that Pinky helped her a lot, and that she wanted Shawn to also have that new kind of support whenever he had a break and things got too much.

He quickly stopped at Sophia’s favorite flower shop on the way home. It was this very tiny shop owned by an Italian old lady, and he dropped by every week to pick her something, every time the previous flower was dying he would give her a new one. It was a nice tradition he started after hearing one of Sophia’s grandma story on how she fell in love with her grandpa because he would always bring her a flower, no matter if it was sunny or raining, everyday since they met he would give her a flower. He ended up getting a mixture of her favorites, little delicate white and purple daisies, scorpion grasses and lavender, wrapped with a classic white lace.

When he opened the door of their home it was already 17:00, so he was relieved to see music playing and the lights on. “Hi Baby, I am home”.

“In the kitchen”. She sounded happy, which was a bit of a relief to Shawn. He caught her finishing up the cake she had started the day before, lemon and rose flavoured, he remembered her saying when she asked him to test the filling. It didn’t crossed his mind that she was baking herself a cake, she was constantly baking so he really didn’t think anything different. “What do you think?” She asked, referring to her little cake, decorated with light pink frosting and some rose petals on the top.

“It’s very cute”. He said making his way to her and giving her a kiss.

“Are these for me?” She asked noticing the bouquet with her favorite flowers on his hand.

“Yes”. He smiled back at her still amazed by the fact that she didn’t seem even the slightest mad at him.

“They are so pretty, thank you.” She hugged him and went to her vase to change her flowers.

“Your welcome, Baby.” He replied observing her untangling the flowers from the lace, taking the old ones, choosing a dying flower and putting inside her book, and then throwing the rest of them out. Without failure she would do that every week.

“Why did you get so many today?” She asked, noticing he got her way more flowers than he usually does. And he looked at her thinking that it wouldn’t surprise him if she forgot her own birthday, she was so worried about everything around her sometimes every so often she would need reminders that she was also important.

“Connor might have let it slip that today is someone’s birthday”. He said getting close to her and pulling the string of hair that escaped her braid out of her face.

“Oh”. She looked guilty back at him.

“Yeah”. He smiled and gave her a slow kiss followed by a peck on her nose.

“I promise I was gonna tell you.” He giggled and hugged her.

“Happy Birthday, Baby. I love you.” He said kissing her one more time. “What happened that you didn’t tell me?” He asked softly keeping his hands on her back and his forehead on hers.

“After we came back from London, things were just so crazy, there was the iHeartRadio MuchMusic Video Awards, and then and you were so anxious about having to fly to Ireland and doing the festival in New York in a very short span of time, and also the finishing things for tour that have to be settled this until next month. I just didn’t want to bring up one more thing to make it even crazier.” She said explaining the reasoning behind her actions. Shawn immediately felt like she had somehow made him fall even more in love with her. “Also I am not the biggest on my birthdays, I much prefer other’s birthdays”. She bit her lip, nervously looking at him. “I am sorry”. She said, making his heart melt.

“I love you, you know that?” He said, giving her a big smile. “You truly are the kindest person I know”. He kissed her one more time. “Baby, none of these things are even a tiny fraction more important than you… -”

“Shawn… -”

“Wait, let me finish please?” She nodded. “I know things sometimes do get crazy in my life, and I really do appreciate every single thing you have done to support me these past weeks, I don’t think I could have done it without you. In fact I am sure I wouldn’t have managed it, at least not sanely.” He chuckled. “But I really don’t want you to think that you don’t have space to also share your important things, because I want to hear all of them, and I want to also help you get through all of them. You are as much important as I am in this relationship. And honestly, all of this, everything, it means nothing if I don’t have you. All of you.”

- - - - - -

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