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alocon · 6 months

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A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be [7] - Max Verstappen

written by alocon

Note: Name and Part One based on the song A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be by Jess Benko

Summary: Christian Horner hate club comes into full swing as everyone begins to turn their backs on the team principal and some Max fluff.

Before you read: Use of Y/N (sorry!!)

fc: Blanca Soler

[Previous Part Here][The Masterlist]

A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be [Part Seven] - MV¹

youruser

🎵 Shawn Mendes - Treat You Better

liked by maxverstappen1 and others

youruser: Geri Halliwell appreciation post because I know how to treat my women ❤❤

tagged: gerihalliwell

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maxverstappen1: Iconic.

youruser: The post or Geri? maxverstappen1: Geri, the post and the poster 💜 youruser: 🧡

gerihalliwell: This is so sweet, thank you ❤

youruser: Love you!! ❤ gerihalliwell: Love you too, see you next weekend honey ❤ user1: next weekend???? Geri reputation era??? user2: AJWDFDPOGJSK CHECK MERC'S STORY

youruser and mercedesamgf1 posted to their story!

The clock showed 2 am as you slowly got out of bed, and made your way to the kitchen.

You opened the fridge and squinted your eyes as the bright light hit you. You reached out for the bottle of water you've been craving when you heard a voice behind you. You jumped in place and turned around to see your temporary roommate lean against the kitchen island. Max had been staying with you due to an issue with his apartment, meaning he would've had to stay either with friends or in a hotel. Luckily, you had opened your door to him with no hesitation.

“Can’t sleep?”

"Hello. No, I can't. I figured you're the same?" You grabbed the water, sitting on the kitchen counter opposite him.

He nodded his head as he continued to lean against the counter. He had a relaxed look on his face, and was seemingly in no rush to return to bed. "What's keeping you up?”

"I'm not sure, I just can't sleep very well," you said softly, still trying to get used to the light. He chuckled, leaning over and turning the light down slightly.

He remained quiet for a moment as he studied your expression.

"It's always the same with me. Something gets stuck in my head, and I can't turn it off." You nodded in agreement as he continued, "My mind is always occupied and won't shut up long enough for me to sleep.”

"What's stuck in your head this time?” You asked, curiously.

He shrugged.

"Just work, life, the usual stuff. But I can't focus on one thing and it's causing me to overthink everything. It's draining.”

"Is there anything that could take your mind off things?”

He rubbed his eyes as he considered your question. "Do you have any suggestions?”

You shrugged, thinking for a moment. "We could... watch some films together, we could.. I don't know, see if sleeping in the same bed or something helps.”

"Hmm..." The idea of watching a movie sounded nice, but the mention of you sleeping in his bed caught him off guard. "You mean you and I?”

"I mean, yeah. You and I.”

He paused as he considered what you've just suggested. "Are you sure you'd be comfortable sleeping in the same bed?” He asked, his voice quiet, soft, almost slightly nervous.

You smiled, nodding slowly. "Yeah, I'd be comfortable with that.”

He smiled at your response, finding it rather endearing that you're so willing to share the same bed. "Would you be comfortable with me resting against you?”

"Of course. What's the point in sleeping in the same bed if you don't cuddle?" You grinned, looking into his eyes.

The idea of cuddling with you in bed made his heart pound in his chest. He leaned in a little closer, his voice lowered to just above a whisper as he spoke quietly, "If I pull you closer, would you protest?”

You sucked in a sharp breath, not expecting the closeness, or the whispering, or the words. Your voice came out in a shuddery breath. "No.”

"Good..."

He smiled before he pulled you towards him, his arms wrapping around your body. Once he felt you pressed up against him, he let out a deep sigh, a contented expression taking over his face.

A brief moment of silence passed before he spoke again in an even quieter voice, "This feels really nice, you know that?”

"Yeah, I agree. Should we go up to my bedroom?”

The thought of taking you upstairs and into your bedroom to cuddle excited him more than he cared to admit. He missed it… a lot. But he also doesn't want to move too fast and potentially ruin this moment. "We could. Would you like to?”

"Yeah. Like I said, if it helps to let us sleep, I'm more than happy." You whispered back softly.

"Okay. Let's go. But..."

He hesitated for a moment, unsure of himself as he looked into your eyes. "Do you want to spend the rest of the night in your bed? Or would you prefer me to just come up and cuddle for a bit?”

"We could... we could do the rest of the night." You said after a moment, a soft, almost nervous feeling in your stomach.

He smiled at your answer, finding your shyness rather endearing. In a swift motion, he took your hand and started towards the stairs, leading you to your own bedroom.

He looked around your room. 3 of the walls were white, 1 was Palace green. The large bed had a black, wooden bed frame, 2 pillows on each side (one white, one evergreen coloured), the bedsheets were white but the covers were sage green. green. The curtains were green. There was an oak wood cupboard and a set of white drawers. There were some wooden, hexagon shaped shelves on the walls, kind of honeycomb shaped, all adorned with fake plants. There were some posters on the wall, all green, white and black, as well as some records. There was a desk with a draw that had my makeup projects. There was a small rug in the corner with a little art area set up, with paints (not open) an easel etc. There were a couple of beanbags in another corner with a few teddies and a guitar. There were a few photos around as well. He loved it.

Once he closes the door behind the two of you, he leant back against it with a deep breath. "I'm glad you agreed for me to spend the night. I was hoping you would.”

You sat on the bed, sliding slowly under the cover before signalling for him to join you.

Max followed your lead, sliding into the bed next to you.

He pulled you against his body once he was under the covers, his hands wrapping around you in a tight embrace.

You could feel his breathing slow down as he relaxes, a wave of warmth radiating from his body that is comforting and soothing to you.

"You comfortable?" You asked softly, hand instantly travelling to his hair, gently playing with it.

"Mhmm..." He squeezed you a little tighter, finding the sensation of your touch calming and relaxing.

You could feel his heart pound in his chest as one of his arms moved up to rest on your shoulder. "But I think I would be even more comfortable if I could hold you a little tighter than this.” He mumbled into your shoulder.

"Feel free. Whatever helps," you whispered, continuing to play with his hair.

Without a word, he pulled you up slightly so that you're pressed against his chest.

His arms wrapped around your body once more, but this time he pulled you as close as he could and you felt his heartbeat against your back as his chest pressed against yours.

You gently placed a kiss on his forehead as your hand gently stroked through his hair. You kept your touches soft, enough to keep him calm and to hopefully drift you both off to sleep.

His chest rose and fell slowly as he exhaled deeply, his body feeling relaxed as he let you soothe him with your touch.

He closed his eyes as he felt your lips gently kiss his forehead, and he let out a soft exhale of satisfaction. Your touch was soothing and gentle, and the thought of falling asleep with you in his arms is all he could desire right now.

It didn't take long for your eyes to feel heavy, letting all anxiety leave your mind as you drifted off into a soft, gentle sleep.

The comfort of his presence and your touch calmed his mind and the tiredness of his body took over gradually until he drifted off into a deep sleep himself.

As he slept, he wrapped his arms around you, keeping you pressed tightly against him.

As the hours passed, the only sounds that filled the room were the rhythm of each other's heartbeats, the gentle rise and fall of each other's bodies, and the slow and steady breath of your shared sleep.

The morning approached fast, your eyes slowly opened and you were greeted by the presence of his body next to yours, wrapped around you in a tight embrace. It took a little while to work out what was going on, until you saw him on my chest. You smiled as you remembered what happened in last night's late hours and felt a smile form on your face as you felt the warmth of his body against yours.

He stirred slightly as his chest rose and fell, and his arms shifted slightly but otherwise remained in their location as he slept on.

The next morning, you woke up, letting you remain in my arms until you did too.

“Good morning,” he said softly, leaning his head onto my shoulder.

“Morning Max. Did you sleep okay?” You asked politely, causing him to happily nod.

“Like a dream, thank you.” He said softly.

You looked at your phone, before sighing. "Shit." You said, sitting up.

"What's up?"

"They've opened an investigation on me for creating a hostile work environment in the paddock??"

-word count: about 1.6k? Maybe?-

Hi all! Sorry I didn't post this sooner, I was really sick last week so was super unable to post. However, I will now be doing a schedule and posting every Monday (or trying to post once a week at least) and hoping to post part of my Max story every other Monday! Unedited pls correct spelling errors Have a good day Alocon

Taglist: @c-losur3 @itsjustkhaos @reidsworld @d3kstar @casperlikej

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salemshotspot · 4 months

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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

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

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obsidiancreates · 8 months

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Henry Spencer Is A Bastard (With A Broken Nose)

Shawn and Jules have been living together for two weeks when Jules storms into the precinct, grabs Lassiter by the arm, and drags him into the interrogation room.

“O’Hara, what the hell is-”

“You’ve spent time alone with Henry,” she says, sitting Lassiter in the suspect chair. “What was he like?”

“What?”

“This is important, Carlton.”

Lassiter sighs, looking around the room for a moment before answering. “Unpleasant and judgemental. He had every quality of a great cop but none of an actual person I’d spend time with.”

“Which for you is saying something,” Jules mumbles, looking to the side. “Would-would you say you think he’s capable of intentional child endangerment or neglect?”

Lassiter sits up more. “What? O’Hara, what is this about?”

Jules takes a deep breath, looking down at her hands. “I was helping Shawn get some stuff from his old room, and we found an old journal from when he was a kid.It was mostly just doodles and half-finished homework, and he said to just throw it away, but… I kept it. I thought it was cute, to be able to look at what went through his brain as a kid.”

“O’Hara. If you’re alleging what I think-”

“I read more later while he was out with Gus and one of the pages was a failed writing assignment. He was supposed to write about what he did over the weekend and he wrote that his dad locked him a trunk and made him pretend to be kidnapped.”

Lassiter lets out a breath. “Okay. But you and I both know Spencer’s imagination-”

“Carlton, remember the kicked-out tailight? When he got shot?”

“O’Hara, I was with Henry through that whole investigation, and I don’t think I can say that the man I investigated with would purposefully hurt or neglect his son. He was like a machine through the whole thing.”

“There was more, though, Carlton. One of the assignments was to write about how they spent Easter and Shawn’s said he got cut on some glass trying to dig up his eggs. He drew a picture, it-”

She pulls out her phone and hands it to her partner. Lassiter looks at a crude drawing of a small stick figure on it’s hands and knees, overly-large shards on the ground in front of it, and an egg a good few lines below it. There’s a taller stick figure behind the small one, with a wide-open mouth and the words ‘You can do better, Shawn,’ written beside it.

The teacher’s note on the side says that Shawn needs to stop making up stories for assignments about his real life.

Lassiter hands the phone back. “O’Hara…”

Jules sits back in her chair a bit, the tension giving way to a slumped tiredness. “I know they’ve never had an… easy relationship, but Henry has always been so present, ever since we’ve known Shawn. I thought that was a good thing and Shawn’s discomfort was just Shawn being… Shawn.” She looks down at her hand in guilt. “What if I completely missed that he has reason, Carlton?”

Lassiter grabs one of Jules’s hands. “O’Hara, Henry Spencer is a bitter, unlikeable, and overbearing old man- but I really don’t think he’s capable of child abuse.”

Jules holds his hand back and gives it a squeeze. “I just… don’t know how to ask Shawn if these are real. He’s not exactly forthcoming about messy emotions and memories.”

Lassiter nods, and then blinks. “So let’s ask Guster. They’ve been stuck together like flies on a flytrap forever.”

Jules shakes her head. “If Shawn isn’t going to say anything, I really don’t think Gus will.”

“Well, you can either ask Guster if these are real, or you can worry about it forever and never get any answers.” Lassiter knows his partner well enough to know that’s unacceptable to her.

She gives his hand one more squeeze. “I’m just worried. Henry works here. He’s in charge of Shawn.”

“And I’m sure that when we talk to Guster about all this, we’ll learn that Spencer was just exaggerating like he always does.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gus reads the page with wide eyes. “Wait, he was serious about that?”

Lassiter stifles the urge to shout ‘Come on!’ when he hears Jules suck in a breath.

“You mean you knew about this already?”

“I mean, Shawn told me once that he liked Easter at my house way more because there was no ‘manhunt training’, but I thought he just meant something like when his dad would have him stakeout their porch.”

“He what?”

“It, sounds worse than it is. … I think.” Gus looks down at the old notebook again. “I thought. … I mean, Henry was always a little intense. When Shawn and I were boyscouts he used to set up challenges that were impossible to win, and then make us feel bad for not winning.”

“What do you mean, impossible to win?” Lassiter is starting to get concerned now. Shawn’s incessant need to show everyone up has been a pain in his ass for years, and if Henry reinforced that grating attitude and now acts like he tried to quell it-

“Stuff like telling us to go find a rocket in the middle of the woods and then going and grabbing it himself. He used to promise us ice cream if we won, then say he’d eat it himself if we didn’t win next time.” Gus’s face pinches the more he talks about the memories. “Gosh, I haven’t thought about that in years. I guess I didn’t realize how messed up that is until I said it out loud.”

“It’s horrible,” Jules says.

“But not criminal,” Lassiter reminds her. “And as… weird and dangerous as the eggs thing is, that’s not criminal either. … I think.”

“What about the trunk, Carlton?”

“... Yeah, that part’s looking pretty bad.”

Gus shuts the notebook. “We need to talk to Shawn about this. I don’t know if I’m even remembering right, but I know he will.”

“He’d never open up about something like this,” Jules says, gesturing to the notebook and letting her arms drop back to her sides with a flop. “He barely tells me about his childhood at all.”

“Well I was there for most of it, and I need to make sure I didn’t miss some serious abuse going down for our entire lives. Do you know how many times I’ve defended his dad to him, Juliet? … Oh my god, on that same boyscout trip with the rocket, he told me his dad had never said he loved him!”

Lassiter doesn’t need to look at Jules to know she’s probably seething with the rage of the entire underworld- if he believed in such a thing.

Henry better hope they find out it’s not as bad as it’s seeming.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Shawn gets home, Jules, Lassiter, and Gus are all sitting on the couch looking somber. Well, Jules and Gus look somber. Lassiter looks mildly offput.

“Guys! What’s all this, are we having some kinda surprise party?” Shawn looks around for decorations, but there’s nothing. He looks back with excitement. “Is it a case? A big one?”

“Shawn, sit down, we need to ask you about something.” Jules gestures for him to take a seat on a different chair.

“Uh-oh. That’s not your happy voice.” Shawn sits down and leans forward. “Hey, babe, what’s wrong?”

Jules takes a deep breath, and pulls out the notebook. Shawn looks at it. “Oh, that? Please don’t tell me that my drawing skills when I was eight are a dealbreaker.”

“Shawn, did Henry…” Jules falters. Shawn’s expression…

It doesn’t harden, per say. It just… shifts. Becomes a little closed-off.

“Spencer, did Henry actually make you dig through broken glass to find ridiculous holiday candy?” Lassiter says, offering Jules his hand for support. She takes it.

Shawn’s mouth quirks up in the corner, a huff-laugh escaping him. His eyes aren’t as amused, a dark look in them. “What? How-how’d you know about that?”

“Oh my god.” Gus looks sick.

“Guys, seriously, what is this?” Shawn reaches out and snatches the notebook, flipping through it. Fast at first, and then slower. The slight smirk disappears completely, and Jules and Gus know that habit of sticking his tongue over his teeth means Shawn is not in a good emotional space whatsoever as he reads.

He closes the notebook and tosses it onto the coffee table, sitting back into the chair and sniffling. “It’s uh- it’s nothing.”

“Dude, that is not nothing. I thought you were making that stuff up when we were kids!”

“What? Why would I make that up?” That just seems to confuse Shawn.

“Because you were always making things up!”

“Not about my dad! You were like, the one person I could talk about him with! You thought I was lying about everything the whole time?” Now he looks hurt.

“Not everything, but crazy stuff like him locking you in a trunk in the middle of a hot day and putting broken glass over your eggs, yeah! Oh my go- this makes me look back on everything I know in a completely different light, Shawn!”

“Okay, you can’t actually be this surprised, Gus. I mean, you were at my house all the time, you know how he was. We couldn’t even play hide-and-seek without me getting a lecture about hunting perps the right way.” The bitterness in his voice is familiar to his friends, the way he keeps from meeting their eyes, the arms crossed over his chest and tense body language. It’s not that they’ve never seen him like this. But they’ve never seen him like this and truly understood it. Even Gus.

Gus, who looks increasingly horrified as he thinks back on more and more memories. “When we were really little and you told me your dad would throw you out for reading comics, were you serious?”

Shawn scoffs a little. “No, I wasn’t.”

“Did he actually ban them?”

“... Yeah. That part he did. He said they made cops look bad.”

“Good god, Spencer, you’re talking like everything in your house was about cops twenty-four-seven.”

“Gee, Lassie, I wonder why. You’ve met my dad, right?”

“But you’re talking like he expected you to be a perfect cop from the second you were born.”

Shawn goes silent. He still won’t look at any of them.

“Oh, my god.” Jules reaches out to put a hand on Shawn’s knee. “Shawn, did he expect that?”

“... Look, guys, it’s… it’s done, alright? It is what it is, and… I’ve accepted that, and I’m working on making things work with my dad. I don’t… I don’t need this. Okay? I don’t want to think about it and get all…” He huffs. “Last time I thought a little too hard about all this stuff I ended up on my motorcycle with nowhere to go, and-and I don’t want to do that again, alright?”

“Shawn, this is important. We’re all working with Henry constantly, watching how he treats you, and this changes how some of that looks.”

“How?” Shawn finally looks at Jules, right in the eyes. “How does this change anything? He’s the same person, Jules. He-he’s controlling, and-and expects way too much, and is disappointed in me. That’s not different now just because you know he went overboard with stuff when I was a kid.”

Lassiter lets out a deep breath. He’d really… really been hoping this wouldn’t be the case. “How overboard, Spencer?”

Shawn looks at Lassie, and then clicks his tongue and looks away again. “Not in that way, man. He never hit me or anything.”

“So what did he do?”

“Why is this an interrogation?” Shawn stands up, pulling away from Jules’s outstretched hand. “This is stuff for me, and my dad to hash out, okay? Just me and him.”

“Did your mom know about this stuff?” Gus asks.

The mention of his mom seems to make Shawn shut down even more. “Now this is really over.” He walks away, and pauses for just one second to turn around and say, “Don’t- don’t go my dad about all this. I don’t want…”

“... Don’t want what, Shawn?” Jules’s voice is soft and careful.

Shawn doesn’t seem to be able to find the end of the thought. He just shakes his head and walks back out the door.

The three sit in silence for a minute. Jules has tears in her eyes. Gus looks almost shellshocked.

Lassiter stands up. “Alright, I’m officially taking lead on this case.” He looks down at his partner. “O’Hara, find out who in the precinct knew Henry well and still works there. We’ll interview anyone who he might’ve talked to his son about, see if we can dig up any leads there.”

“Whoa, Shawn just said he didn’t want his dad finding out we’re asking about all this, and we just learned he’s way worse than we thought,” Gus says, standing up too. “We can’t start poking around the precinct, because in case you forgot Lassie, he works there!”

“Part-time.”

“He’ll know something is up.”

“Please. I think I know how to run a discreet investigation, Guster.”

“Could you hide something like that from Shawn?”

“... Of course.”

“No, you couldn’t, and if you can’t hide it from Shawn it’s a safe bet that you can’t hide it from his dad.”

Jules stands up. “No, Carlton is right. None of us realized how these pieces fit together until we all talked about it with each other, right? If Shawn won’t… can’t, open up to us about it, the next best thing is getting as many witness statements as possible.”

“Why? It just feels like digging things up to dig them up at this point.”

“Because Henry is currently in charge of Spencer’s livelihood, Guster.”

“I know! He’s in charge of part of mine too!”

“Right.” Jules looks up at Lassiter. “And if we can prove to The Chief that Henry has a negative, unreliable bias against Shawn, we can lessen some of that control!”

“As much as I’d hate to see Spencer off the leash again, I’d hate to be helping enable an abuser even more,” Lassiter agrees.

“Abuser is a strong word.” Gus doesn’t look like he feels that sentence is 100% true. “He wasn’t all bad a lot of the time. I mean, he loosened up on the comic thing when we were older.”

“We know he cares, Gus,” Jules assures. “But, caring doesn’t mean he didn’t do something wrong. Really, really wrong.”

Gus swallows, and then nods. “I know.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They collect a good few statements over the next week.

One statement claims that Shawn would play poker with some of the officers when Henry brought him to the station- why Henry was bringing a seven year old to an active police station and then not keeping an eye on him was something that went unanswered- and that Henry was obviously upset when he discovered this. Another statement corroborated the story, and added that he caught sight of Henry taking all the money Shawn made from the games and shoving it into the police donation box.

One statement was from an elderly file sorter, who claimed that Shawn was sometimes sent down to grab files for his dad and used to complain to her that henry would only buy Shawn cop car toys, and no others. When she’d asked Shawn if he wanted to be a cop when he grew up, Shawn had reportedly said quote, “Something about not getting a choice.” Other statements claimed, when this was brought up, that Shawn seemed very excited by the idea of being a cop when he grew up- until his arrest.

One statement, given by someone Lassiter vaguely remembers being rookies with back in the day, lends more credibility to the recollections of the elderly woman. The statement claimed that when the rookie would go on ride-alongs with Henry or work under him, Henry would almost always complain about Shawn. Everything from Shawn having an interest that didn’t relate to being a cop, to Shawn ‘acting like a child’ when he would have been under twelve according to the timeline, to Shawn ‘not even trying’ during a specific incident where Henry claimed Shawn forged his signature to go on a field trip and quote “hesitated for a second with his pen or something- I remember it was something really minor, and Henry couldn’t stand it. I thought it was weird that he was teaching his son how to forge signatures and then expecting the kid to never use the skill, but it wasn’t really my place to say.”

By the end of the week, Jules is steaming and Shawn hasn’t come around the precinct at all. Gus keeps dropping by, digging up old journals of his own to use as cross-references when possible. Shawn is quiet with Jules at home, like he’s waiting for something big to happen and he’s worried he could trigger it early.

It makes Jules more upset at Henry, because now her boyfriend’s emotional immaturity seems a lot less like a natural childish nature and a lot more like having genuinely never been taught how to handle anything.

No, according to the information she and Lassiter have gathered, it looks like all Henry taught Shawn was that winning is everything, being the best is non-negotiable, and Shawn was born to be a cop and anything that didn’t align with that idea just… shouldn’t be there.

“Wow.” Lassiter tosses the latest statement onto his desk. “And I thought Henry didn’t discipline Spencer enough as a kid. Some of this stuff makes it sound like Spencer grew up in a boot camp.”

“He basically did,” Jules says bitterly, reading over one of Gus’s old notebooks. “Gus wasn’t even looking for evidence of it, and these journals are full of casual, offhand observations that look worse and worse the more we know. Listen to this one. ‘Today Shawn was in a bad mood, and when I asked him why he said his dad stole his mood ring after showing him to turn the box upside-down. I said that’s cheating, and Shawn said it can’t be if his dad said to do it.’ Who the hell steals a mood ring from a kid?”

“You’re getting caught on the small stuff again, O’Hara.”

“I know, I know. I just- now that we know some of the major things, even the small stuff is making me just unbelievably angry.”

“Yeah, it’s rough to read. At least you and I wanted to be cops.”

“Right? No wonder Shawn ended up a psychic detective, how do you just do something else after being raised so specifically like that? And no wonder he-he buys EasyBake Ovens and goofs off all the time, he had it so strict as a kid…”

“Mmmmm… let’s not excuse every antic, O’Hara. A lot fo it is still just him being a jackass.”

“I won’t get into this with you again, Carlton.”

“Good, I don’t want to get into it again either. … Heads up.”

Jules closes the notebook and tucks it into a desk drawer as swiftly and inconspicuously as possible, Lassie doing the same for his file. Henry walks past them, barley sparing a glance as he makes his way somewhere else.

Jules stares daggers at him so intensely that if dropped to the ground covered with enough puncture wounds to imitate Julias Caesar, Lassiter would think it was a mild scene all things considered.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s three weeks since Jules found the notebook when Shawn rolls over in bed, puts his arm around, and mumbles “I have an eidetic memory.”

Jules puts her book down and looks at Shawn with furrowed brows. “What?”

Shawn sighs and sits up properly. “I have an eidetic memory,” he says again, “And… I don’t like looking back, because I remember everything perfectly. Which means I usually remember what I felt perfectly too, and it usually wasn’t great feelings.” He can’t look her in the eyes this time, either, but instead of the tense, protective body language of before, he’s holding a pillow close to his chest and slightly burying his face into it, almost sagging around it.

Jules starts to rub his back. She knows how hard this kind of… difficult emotional discussion, is for him. Now she even knows why- suspects why, really, because not all of it is proven in full, but still she thinks she can cout is as knowing. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

“About the memory?”

“Yeah. That sounds… really difficult to deal with, Shawn. Does Gus know?”

“Yeah, he knows. I think other than my dad, and… and you, he’s the only person who knows.”

“Shawn…”

“I just, I just want you to know… that I’m not asking you to drop it for no reason,” Shawn says, “Or-or because I don’t feel like it’s important. I know it is, I do. I just…”

“Don’t want to relive a lot of it,” Jules says softly. “... Shawn, does this mean you remember everything perfectly? All the time?”

“Eh… fifty-fifty. The ADHD gets in the way sometimes.”

“... But when it doesn’t?”

“I just try not to think about a lot of it.” Shawn moves again, to look her in the eyes, He takes a deep breath, and he looks a little pained. This kind of thing is painful for him, he’s so unsure how to navigate it. “I have to keep moving forward, Jules. It’d be so… so easy to just get stuck, forever, in all the stuff stored in my head. And I’m really, really trying to, I mean that. It’s difficult, and I’m not… always great at it, but I’m trying.”

“And you’re worried we’ll set you back?”

“No! No, I… I don’t know.” Shawn lets Jules pull him close to her chest and begin running her hand through his hair. “My dad and I don’t solve stuff, Jules. We just… argue over it. I’m getting tired of it.”

“... I understand.” She kisses the top of his head. “But I don’t like him being in charge of you when you’re a grown man anymore.”

“You think I do? … But it’s making him a lot happier than he’s been in a long time.”

“You should be happy too, Shawn.”

“Hey. Hey, I am happy.” He looks up into her eyes. “Look at me right now. I’m being cradled like a sweet little baby seal by the most beautiful, badass woman in the entire world. Of course I’m happy.”

Jules laughs a little and contorts a bit to kiss him on the mouth. “I’m glad you told me that, Shawn. And I promise, I won’t ask you to relive anything else for me.”

“... But you’re not going to stop investigating my dad, are you?”

“Did you stop with mine?”

“... Fair enough.” Shawn lays his head back down, and soon enough Jules hears soft snoring from him and mumbled phrases in his sleep.

…

An eidetic memory. Perfect recall.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Jules goes over everything they have so far knowing Shawn has a perfect memory, it makes her angry to such a degree that she thinks it might kill her. Not literally, but it feels strong enough.

She has some of Shawn’s old report cards, some statements she got from former teachers via social media contact, and some copies of pages of one of Gus’s old journals laid out in front of her, and she sees a pattern.

Shawn didn’t do good in school. His report cards are less than average, and are packed with notes about how he doesn’t pay attention, doesn’t seem to absorb any information, and doesn’t remember anything he’s taught. The statements from the teachers describe Shawn as hyperactive, passionate about everything but his schoolwork, and having difficulty with staying observant in class.

Gus’s old journals are full of the same, but also the opposite. Shawn didn’t pay attention in school, but sometimes he could pull something the teacher said from his memory word for word without even trying, and then a few entries later Gus would mention Shawn failed a test on that exact subject. Shawn got beat up because he told a bully he memorized the pattern of answers used in the math tests, but his dad told the teacher and let Shawn know he was doing it. And most of all, Gus writes about how freaky his friend’s ability to look at people and figure them out is. How Shawn notices almost everything almost all the time, and usually makes some dramatic conclusion that isn’t right, but he still notices things and Gus can’t figure out how Shawn fingers things out.

Detective training, and an eidetic memory, and psychic visions. Jules is now pretty sure that Shawn covers up some of his deductions using his visions- he’s known enough impossible information that they can’t possibly all be deductions in disguise, but when she thinks back there’s a few times where it’s obvious in hindsight he used his abilities to cover up the fact that he’s an incredible, highly-trained detective.

Maybe she’s jumping to a conclusion, but she finds herself thinking ‘Because Henry made him hate that he can do it so well,’ as she pieces it all together.

Gus’s journals lend a lot of credit to that theory. Shawn is smart, and Gus knows it, but Shawn acts dumb sometimes and Gus doesn’t understand why, and then Gus mentions that it’s weird that Henry kept Shawn up all night before to stakeout their porch and now Shawn is tired during Little League and Henry tells him to get his head in the game because Henry is the coach.

Henry is the coach, Henry is the chaperone on the field trip, Henry is their Scout Master- he’s in charge of every part of Shawn’s life except for school. And Maddie is rarely brought up, even when Gus writes about spending all day or night or even weekend at the Spencer house. Jules hasn’t seen Shawn’s Mom since Yang almost blew her up, and she just figured that Maddie wanted to stay out of Santa Barbara after that, understandably. She’s getting a different feeling about Maddie staying away now. It seems a lack of presence was her main impression in Shawn’s life, or at least, Shawn’s life through the lens of Child Gus.

So it was basically just Henry. And her heart aches for the thought of someone being stuck in a bad marriage, basically raising a kid alone, and that kid being as hyper and curious and chaotic as Shawn. But the ache is smothered in the sense of righteous rage when she reads other entries about things like a girl throwing a ball at Shawn and missing, and an ostrich choking on the ball, and Henry dragging Shawn away. The entry goes on to say that Shawn told Gus that Henry didn’t believe him when he said he didn’t do it, even after then-superior officer Captain Connors came in and tried to vouch for Shawn.

Henry always assumed the worst. Assumes, the worst, still.

Shawn tries so hard, sometimes, with his dad, and Jules is starting to realize that Henry doesn’t put the same effort in. He tries some, she knows it, she’s seen it, but she also sees him constantly berate, put down, and insult Shawn, publicly and privately.

Suddenly she remembers something from when Shawn went undercover on the dating show, something she’d been too upset over about Shawn being there at all to really take in in the moment.

“I’m sorry, this woman is way too good for my son. If it was me, I’d vote no.”

She doesn’t have Shawn’s memory, so without rewatching the clip she can’t be totally sure those are Henry’s exact words, but she’s certain that it’s the exact sentiment.

First of all, she takes a little offense to that for herself. But secondly and more strongly, she takes offense for Shawn. As she thinks about it she can remember the way Shawn tried to cover up the awkwardness in the clip, the way the girl on the show whispered “Is this a joke?” and the way it absolutely was not. The way Henry said that on TV, to Shawn’s face, with no hint of shame.

“O’Hara.” She looks up to see Lassiter holding a cup of coffee and a bagel for her. She takes them and Lassiter says, “There’s more steam coming out of your ears than there is that cup.”

“Sorry,” she sighs. “I just… I don’t know if I can control myself tomorrow when Henry comes back in. The more I dig into this, the more I want to just- go back in time and pick little Shawn up and take him somewhere better.”

“Well as much as we don’t like it, O’Hara, Spencer is who he is because he was raised the way he was raised.”

“I know. And I like, who Shawn is!”

“Inexplicably.”

“Carlton.”

“Mmm.”

“Anyway… I love Shawn, and who he is, all of him, but I still wish he could’ve been who he is without going through all of this. It’s not okay.”

“No. No, it’s not.” Lassiter sighs. “Look, O’Hara, put the case down for a while. At this point we’ve got enough to at least make The Chief doubt some of Henry’s intentions and judgements when it comes to Spencer and, well, that was the goal.”

“... Yeah. Yes, okay, I will… I will put this down for a few days.” Jules closes up the file and puts it back into her drawer. “Shawn is still less than happy I’m working on this, anyway. He understands why, but I know he wishes he didn’t.” He probably understands a lot of things he wishes he didn’t. Jules has had to grapple with the realization that she actually doesn’t know as much about how Shawn’s mind works as she thought she knew, and that it’s possible she’ll never know a lot of it. There’s more than just psychic visions to the mystery of his mind, and some of those mysteries are locked up with a key cast out of self-resentments and resentments of his dad.

God, she hopes she can keep up a poker face when Henry comes in.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Her file is missing from her desk the next day, and so is Lassiter’s. They both know why.

They march over to Henry’s desk just as Gus comes in to collect a check, and all three end up standing over Henry as he openly and unashamedly reads through the Spencer Upbringing Case File. Gus takes a step back when he realizes that’s what’s happening, as does Lassiter.

But not because of Henry.

Jules looks murderous.

Henry purses his mouth in a frown and nods, raising up the file and then closing it and tossing it onto his desk in one smooth movement. “It’s comprehensive,” he says, like he’s grading a paper. “But it’s a bunch of biased bull.”

“Give them back.” Jule’s voice is ice-cold.

Henry shrugs, moving his head side to side for a second, still frowning, and then says, “Nah.” He takes the files, and drops them in the trash. “I think you owe me an explanation for why the head detective and his partner are investigating the way I raised my son. Why’d Shawn put you up to this?”

“He didn’t.”

Henry scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

Jules slams one hand onto Henry’s desk. The whole bullpen goes quiet.

“I was helping Shawn get something from your house, and I found a notebook,” she says.

“Oh, so, you found one of Shawn’s little projects where he exaggerated things to make himself look like a victim of the world?”

“I found the writings of a little kid who didn’t seem to realize at the time of writing that being locked in a hot car trunk and digging through broken glass for Easter Eggs wasn’t normal.”

Henry laughs, crossing his arms. “That’s what you have a problem with? It’s called training, detective. You went through it yourself.”

“When I was an adult, by my choice, and I sure as hell never had to dig through glass.”

“You’re really hung up on that.”

“Because it’s genuinely evil!”

Henry’s smug look melts into a scowl. “How dare you.”

“How dare I?! Do you understand how much all of this is still affecting Shawn, even right now?! He can barely talk about all of this!” “Oh, well, he sure seem capable of reminding me of it.”

“Because you did it! You’re the only other person in the entire world who understood what was done to him in the name of training because you did it!”

“Done to h- you’re overreacting, detective!”

“I, agree, what is going on out here?” Chief Vick hurries over to Henry’s desk from her own. “Detectives, there had better be a damn good reason-”

“There is, Chief.” Lassiter reaches into the trashcan and pulls out the files.

“Karen, Detective O’Hara has allowed her romantic entanglement with my son to-”

“Henry was borderline abusive during Shawn’s childhood,” Jules interrupts, facing her Chief. Chief Vick’s eyes widen and her mouth drops open, a disbelieving laugh escaping her even as she accepts the files and flips them open. “You understand what it is you’re alleging, O’Hara, and against who?”

“I do, Chief, and I think our case file speaks for itself.” All eyes are on them now. Jules doesn’t back down. “I’m well aware of my emotional ties to this case, but I assure you I’m not allowing it to cloud my judgment. If I was, I wouldn’t have used the word borderline to describe the conclusions I’ve come to.”

“Karen, this is ridiculous.”

But Chief Vick is focused on the files in her hands. Her eyes flick up to Henry. “Is it?” She looks over to Gus, who’s been watching with the quiet tension of a prey animal waiting to make a run for it. “Mister Guster, can you genuinely testify to the validity and accuracy of the claims in these files?”

“Oh, um, well, most of those are from my own journals.” Gus’s eyes flick between Henry and Jules. “I’d say that’s even more reliable than just plain memory.”

“It certainly is.” Chief Vick turns her eyes back to the file. “Henry, I think after I’m done going through these we’re going to have a chat about some of your current responsibilities and extent of authority over consultants.”

“Oh, come on, Karen!” Henry looks around at the entire precinct staring, and judging. “This is completely unfounded, and-and blown way out of propor-!”

Henry doesn’t finish the sentence because Juliet O’Hara punches him in the nose.

There’s gasps from everyone in the room. Jules’s fist is bloodied. Henry’s nose went CRUNCH! when her fist made contact.For a long moment it’s like the whole room has collectively stopped breathing.

“I don’t make unfounded accusations, Henry,” Jules breathes. “Especially not when I have been building a case for over a month, and have watched Shawn completely close off whenever I asked him about this.”

Henry holds his nose, looking at Jules with fear that Lassiter and Gus don’t think is nearly intense enough. “Juliet,” Henry pants, blood streaming out from between his fingers. “This is insane.”

“Quiet, Spencer.” Lassiter moves Jules a little farther away. Her fist is still raised. “I won’t tolerate you disrespecting my partner, especially not in the same way you do your son.”

“What?! You can’t believe all this too, Lassiter.”

“You know I’m not Shawn’s biggest fan, but if you think what O’Hara has done over the last month is anything less than the best damn investigation possible then I have to seriously reconsider some of our shared opinions of your son’s work.”

Gus glances at a box of tissues on Henry’s desk- and then subtly moves to knock them on the floor and kicks them away.

“Herny, I’m going to have to ask you to step away from the precinct for a few days while this gets handled. O’Hara, I’m going to need to speak with you in my office.”

Jules lowers her fist, and nods. She knows she can’t just punch Henry and get away with it scot-free, and she accepts that.

No-one moves to help Henry. Not a single soul. He grumbles as he makes his way past Gus to grab a different box of tissues.

“It’s like he just sucks the respect out of people,” Henry grumbles.

CRACK!

No-one is more surprised than Gus when his fist slams into Henry’s jaw. Gus reels away immediately, shrinking and cradling his hand, as Henry goes down.

“Mister Guster!” Chief Vick moves forward to try and catch Henry.

“Uuuuh!” Guss whines, shaking his hand. “I-I mean, you don’t get to say that about Shawn! He asked us not to keep doing this! You gotta stop assuming the worst of him all the time!”

“When he earns it!” Henry barks out, then groans and spits. It’s mostly blood.

“You won’t let him earn it!” Jules is furious again. “How many killers does he have to catch for you to see that your son is an amazing man?!”

“It’s not about catching killers,” Henry says, spitting again. “It’s about growing up.”

“Says the grown man who can’t even tell his son ‘I love you’.”

“He doesn’t say it either.”

“That’s not helping your case, Spencer.” Lassiter has his eyes on Jules and Gus. “And considering I’m the only one on said case who hasn’t taken a shot at you yet, I’d say keep your mouth shut.”

“Oh, what do you know.” Henry spits a third time. The Chief looks about ready to punch him herself. “Father-son relationships are complicated, especially when the father wants what’s best for the son and the son just wants to throw everything away and get himself killed!”

“You wanted him to be a cop, Spencer, you didn’t exactly put him on a path to a peaceful and easy life.”

“I put him on the right path, and he never appreciated it, and that is what your case file should say!”

“You know what, Spencer?” Lassiter takes a step closer to the bleeding man. “I’ve put up with a lot of crap from both you and your son over the years, and you two are a lot more similar than you think. But one thing I can say that Shawn has over you is that he doesn’t mean it when he says stupid crap like that.”

“He looks up to you, you ass,” Jules adds. “And he is willing to put aside all of the things you say and do to him to have a good relationship with you. Do you understand how incredible that is? That you don’t even have to work to have him in your life? That he comes to you no matter how many times you tear into him for it?”

“He comes to me because he never listens when he needs to.” Henry’s face is starting to become very purple as the bruises set in. “I don’t know what he’s been telling you, but he needs, my help.”

“Exactly! And he feels like you’re reliable enough to give it to him, and you do! So why do you treat that as though it’s a fault? Do you have any idea what I would have given as a kid, and even now, to be able to just-just go up to my dad and say ‘I need help,’ and have him be there to help me? That means the world!”

“Not to Shawn.” Henry looks pained beyond just the broken nose and possible broken jaw. “The kid is too focused on himself.”

“You don’t know your son at all, then.” Jules turns and walks with The Chief to her office.

Gus shakes his head, grabs the check out of Henry’s paperwork pile, checks that it’s signed, and leaves.

“Oh, really? It’s up to me to take him to the hospital?” Lassiter looks around and then huffs. “Alright, Spencer. Don’t bleed on my seats, or my dashboard, or anything but yourself.”

“I’m not a bad father,” Henry says, still holding his nose. “I care about my son.”

“Yeah, and somehow Shawn knows that even though you act the way you do.” Lassie buckles Henry in for him so that the nose remains pinched. “But here’s the thing, Spencer. Your son is an arrogant, attention-hogging, impulsive, completely absurd person, and he didn’t just become like that out of a vacuum.”

“Yes he did. I did everything I could. I did everything right as much as possible.”

Lassiter sighs as he gets into the driver’s seat. “You seriously think that? You’d be okay with your grandkid being raised that way?”

“If they had Shawn’s potential, yes.”

“... Dammit.” Lassiter turns to Henry, and punches him in the gut. Henry coughs, and then chokes on his own blood, and then coughs again.

“What the hell?!” Henry gets out between hacks.

“O’Hara would’ve done it. I feel like I owed it to her. … And honestly, Spencer, after compiling that damn case, I’ve been wanting to do it for myself anyway. I already knew you were an overbearing perfectionist with a control issue, but you wishing your son was more like that than he is is even worse.”

“Shawn’s no perfectionist,” Henry wheezes.

“But he is overbearing with a control issue more often than not. Like I said inside, you two are a lot more similar than you think, and frankly I blame you for the parts of Shawn that go past mild annoyance and into infuriating obstacle.”

“I’d never just hand a collar over to save someone’s ego,” Henry coughs out.

“See, that’s where I wish Shawn wasn’t like you.”

“He’s handed you a collar twice.”

“What? He has not.”

And Henry must be a little delirious from the repeated blows, because Lassiter is pretty sure his next words of “See, this is why Shawn should’ve been head detective,” wouldn’t come out of him otherwise.

Lassiter grips the steering wheel tighter and makes a sharp turn into the hospital parking lot. “Well he’s not, and from the sound of things he never would’ve been anyway.”

“He could’ve been a perfect cop.”

“He’d have been miserable and you know it.”

“He’d be doing things right.”

“You’re hopeless.” Lassiter isn’t any gentler helping Henry out of the car than he was helping him in. “I’m not picking you back up when they’re done with you.”

“I’ll call Shawn.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you will.” And Shawn will come, and probably be mad on his dad’s behalf, and will definitely be mad at all three of the punchers, because he loves his dad enough to overlook years and years of mistreatment that most people would probably consider ground for cutting contact. “And Spencer? If you ever insult O’Hara’s work again, or say anything that gets her that angry, I will help her cover up your disappearance.”

“You don’t mean that,” Henry scoffs.

“Try me.” Lassiter gets back in his car. “And if I hear from her that you’re still badmouthing your son to his face, I’ll make you disappear myself.”

And then he drives away.

And Henry walks into the hospital alone.

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thespiritssaidso · 3 months

Text

They’re Not Rotten, They’re Overripe!!

Summary: Shawn is prepping to make banana bread, but Henry thinks the bananas have gone bad. And what do you do with bad bananas?

Notes: I wrote this in 30 minutes. Thank you psych discord for coming up with this brilliant idea.

—————

Cupboard doors banged as Shawn shuffled through them frantically, looking for something very important.

“Where are they, where are they…” he mumbled to himself, double- and triple-checking the counter where he knew for a fact he had left the bananas to over-ripen.

Shawn could’ve sworn he had only just taken the overripe bananas from the freezer and put onto the counter to let them thaw. But apparently they had vanished into thin air.

Henry, having been drawn to the kitchen by the noise, asked “Watcha looking for, Shawn?”

In a desperate attempt to find the bananas, Shawn opened the cutlery drawer. Of course, there was nothing but cutlery. Obviously. “I left out bananas to make banana bread for the station, but I can’t find them anywhere.” He opened the fridge as well, just to make sure his ADHD hadn’t made him put it in there. Just condiments and a few wilting vegetables along with a steak marinating in a baggie.

“Oh yeah. You left them out for too long and they went bad, so I threw them out for you. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Shawn froze. A tingly feeling spread throughout him. “Sorry, you did what?”

“I threw ‘em out. I mean seriously, Shawn, I thought I raised you better than that. If you leave bad food out on the counter it’s going to become rotten, and then it’ll attract flies-”

“No no no no no. Dad, they weren’t rotten, they were overripe. I was gonna use them-”

“To make banana bread, I know. But they were brown and mushy and disgusting. If you tried making banana bread with those you would’ve given yourself food poisoning. Trust me kid, I just did you a favor.”

Shawn felt himself let out a tiny hysterical giggle, despite finding the whole situation very unfunny. “Dad. Padre. Vater. That’s how you make banana bread. You gotta use overripe bananas.”

“Oh come on, Shawn. Just admit you forgot about them. I got you new ones anyway. All I want you to do is say ‘thank you’.” Henry had, in fact, gotten new bananas. He was holding the bag of them right now.

Shawn took a deep breath. “Have you ever baked before?”

“No. I don’t see why that’s relevant-”

“Then maybe don’t give me baking advice if you don’t know jack shit about it.”

Henry sputtered indignantly. “Now hold on, Shawn. I at least have some common sense, like how rotten food shouldn’t be eaten.”

“For the last time: they’re not rotten! They’re overripe!”

“That’s the same thing.”

“No it isn’t!”

Henry threw up his hands. “I’m not having this conversation with you. I try to help you and maybe teach you a lesson about keeping your food good, and you pull this. Typical.”

“Oh, would you stop playing the victim and just admit that-”

“No! I’m done. Give yourself food poisoning, for all I care.” And with that, he stormed off, leaving the bag of fresh bananas on the counter.

Shawn sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. Leaning against the wall, he got out his phone to text Gus. Maybe he’d get lucky and Gus would have perfectly overripe bananas.

If not…

Well, he’d just have to wait until the ones his dad bought became overripe.

———

It had been a week since their argument. Henry walked into his kitchen and noticed a small ziplock bag with a loaf of bread. On top of it was a note in Shawn’s handwriting.

Made some banana bread for you. Don’t worry, I used extra ripe bananas, just to make sure you don’t have to worry about getting sick.

Henry smiled to himself. “Looks like the kid’s come to his senses.”

He shuffled through the cutlery drawer and grabbed a bread knife. Carefully, he cut himself a slice and bit into it. He immediately gagged on it, however. It tasted awful. How was this even banana bread?

Henry looked at the note again and turned it over.

If you’re reading this, it means you’ve eaten some already. Don’t ever try to a school me in baking again, I’m not seven anymore.

———

ao3 link

#shawn spencer #henry spencer #bad dad Henry #I mean #he tries #but like #he lashes out when he's told he's wrong so #yeah #psych #psych fic #psych fanfic #psych fanfiction #toast tries to write #psych 2006 #psych usa #psychusa #psych tv #psych tv show

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mouwrites · 7 months

Note

Congrats on the four hundred followers. When this open can I get one for Mercy by Shawn Mendes and Fem reader with Lloyd. Thank you

Loved the vibes for this one!! :D

Word count: 1.1k

Ninjago - Mercy (Lloyd) (400 follower event)

The sunset’s angry hues were giving in to the calmer shades of night on the horizon, the sun’s fervent flames being doused in the blue ocean that seemed to stretch on into infinity. You blinked slowly, giving your eyes a rest from the intense view.

Keeping your eyes closed for a second, you listened to the waves crashing on the rocks below. From up high on the cliffside it was a soft hiss, but you knew that down there it was a deafening roar of water.

“Hear that?” You smiled, opening your eyes to glance at the blonde boy sitting beside you.

“Yeah,” he said, his gaze dropping from the horizon to his feet extended out in front of him. He was clearly thinking about something deep. Not wanting to disturb him again, you just turned back to the sunset.

Your fingers brushed through the grass, appreciating the coolness that was settling in as the light faded.

You didn’t notice, but as you moved your hands they brushed gently against Lloyd’s balled fists, which contracted even tighter at your touch.

Lloyd’s lips were pressed into a firm line. Here you were, languid and lethargic as a cloud beside him, while he was tighter than petrified wood. He always got like this when he was this close to you; his entire body would tense up, and he’d send frequent shy glances in your direction. He could never decide if he was grateful for the way you never seemed to take notice.

There were a lot of things you didn’t notice. The way he’d stare at you when you talked, the longing glances he’d send when you were across the room, the way his voice changed ever so subtly when he was talking about you… you were aloof, indifferent to it all.

And worse were the things you did, again, without notice. You’d grab his hand, pull him close, hug him, tell him how handsome he was, how brave, how kind. You’d tell him how important he was to you. You’d tell him he was your favorite.

It wasn’t that you seemed insincere; no, you were more genuine than anyone Lloyd had ever met. But that was part of the problem. How could you be so real, yet not feel something more profound around him, like he did around you?

He forced his clenched jaw to relax. It’s not like you did this on purpose, he reminded himself. Maybe it’s just me getting too attached, he lamented.

And then you said it.

“This is the type of sunset you’ve gotta share with someone special.”

And then you did it.

You smiled. The way your lips curved told him that there could be nothing more real, more special than what was between you two. But what was that?

“I can’t do this anymore, Y/n!”

You blinked, your smile dropping. For a moment Lloyd was sad to see it go, but he shook his head in frustration and the feeling was gone.

“I know you don’t do it on purpose, but… can’t you see what you do to me?”

“What do I do to you?” You looked concerned.

“You—!” Lloyd gesticulated vaguely, not quite sure what he was doing himself. He threw his hands up with a sigh, giving up on his hands and trying words again.

“When I’m around you, my heart beats so fast. Your smile makes me feel like I’m rocketing up into the sky. Your voice is my favorite sound. Sometimes I just sit there wishing you’d tell me to do something, anything, so that I can feel like I’m doing something for you, too. Because you’re always the highlight of my day. The days I don’t see you are almost unbearable.”

He ran a hand through his hair, bringing his knees to his chest and keeping his gaze directed downwards.

“I just… I’m like your puppet. You’ve got this grasp on me. I’d do anything for you. I’d sacrifice my life for you; I’d do it twice!”

You were just watching him, eyes wide, lips parted in a shocked expression. You wanted to speak, but there were no words.

“And the worst of it is… you don’t even know that you do this to me.” His voice dropped to a miserable whisper as he said: “You don’t even feel the same.”

“Lloyd,” you said at last. It didn’t come out pitifully. Nor did it come out angrily. It was a command for his attention, and you got it straight away. You felt a strange pang of guilt as his pained eyes snapped over to you; was this really the effect you had on him?

You almost reached to hold his hands as you spoke, but you decided that this was a bad idea. Instead you just balled your fists and put them at your sides as you turned to face him.

“Lloyd… I’m able to be so affectionate towards you because that’s really how I feel. Affectionate, I mean. I… I love you! With my whole heart! I get this thrill whenever I’m able to give you a compliment or hold your hand—that’s why I do it. I guess I just never considered that you might feel the same. I’m so sorry, that must’ve been torture for you.”

“For me? What about you? You didn’t think I felt the same,” Lloyd blinked, eyebrows coming together in puzzlement.

You looked away bashfully. “Yeah, it hurt whenever you looked away all embarrassed or laughed awkwardly at me. But… I guess I misinterpreted it?”

A smile gradually curved Lloyd’s lips, and laughter began to bubble from his mouth. It became more and more intense, and you felt compelled to laugh, too.

“Are we both idiots?” Lloyd managed, wiping a tear from his eye.

“Idiots in pain. And for no reason, apparently.”

Your mouths both closed at last, the laughter leaving grins on both your lips. You stared at each other with looks of relief, of admiration, and for the first time you finally saw the affection you had for each other reflected in the others’ eyes.

And suddenly your lips were connected, and your hand was on top of Lloyd’s. His free hand held the back of your head gently, fingers subtly shifting as he felt your hair.

When you pulled apart, your foreheads came to rest against each other. You were both looking down at your hands; your thumb brushing Lloyd’s knuckles, Lloyd’s fist finally having relaxed.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“You have no idea how good it is to hear that.”

You giggled. “I could say the exact same thing.”

Thank you so much for taking part in our event!! And thanks for reading, take care loves <33

(divider by saradika)

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago x reader #lloyd garmadon #lloyd garmadon x reader #lloyd x reader #ninjago fanfiction

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tameodesza · 25 days

Text

the bodyguard

₊˚ʚ Bodyguard!Kevin x Male Escort!Shawn ⁺ॱ˖

₊˚ʚ Summary: Men threw themselves at Shawn all the time, but he felt empty inside. He was an object used to fulfill their needs. And at the end of the day, they went back to their lives, to their loved ones who were unaware of their dirty little secret named Shawn Michaels. AO3

Shawn’s fingers clawed at soft silk sheets. Moans flowed out of his mouth like a broken faucet as he rode his client until they were both seeing stars. Large hands tightened around his waist before the man took over, thrusting into Shawn at a rate that told him he was close.

“Come on, daddy. Give it to me,” Shawn encouraged, his voice cracking at the end.

After another hard thrust, Shawn was sent over the edge. He fell over in a heap, his arms no longer able to hold himself up as he came undone. He laid limp as his body continued to be used, come smearing between their stomachs at the force. It wasn’t long before the man went still, holding Shawn in place with a low groan as he spilled into his condom.

Their hearts pounded in tandem, breaths ragged from exertion. The dewy sheen of their sweaty skin reflected off the flames of cinnamon-scented candles scattered around the fancy hotel room. Shawn took a deep breath, sighing blissfully at the spicy aroma that collided with the heavy smell of sex. It wasn’t typical for Shawn to linger, but this was his final client of the night – Hunter Helmsley. So, he was in no rush.

Shawn buried his head into Hunter’s neck, wincing as the man pulled out. He shifted to rest on his elbow, a lazy smile on his lips as he watched Hunter tug off the condom and toss it aside. Just as Hunter reached for his clothes, Shawn said, “Come lay with me.”

It was a command that had Hunter blinking in surprise, but he was quick to settle back in bed with the blond bombshell. “I thought you didn't do pillow talk.”

Shawn trailed a finger across Hunter’s broad chest with a sly grin. “I make exceptions for my favorites.”

“Favorites, huh? How many you got?”

Shawn’s hand traveled slowly up Hunter’s chest, settling on the side of his neck. “You really wanna know?”

He didn't. Part of the fun for Hunter was pretending that Shawn only had eyes for him. Hunter raised a hand, placing it softly onto Shawn’s cheek. “How much I gotta pay to be your only one?”

Shawn lifted a brow in interest. He trailed his hand back down Hunter’s chest, swirling a finger teasingly around Hunter’s left nipple. “Depends on how much you think I’m worth, baby.”

And there goes that charm that made men puddy in Shawn’s hands, the confidence he’d built since his stripping days.

He was young, too young – freshly turned 18 – when he first hit the pole. It had been out of pure desperation and sheer survival to make some quick money after getting kicked out of his parents’ house. He knew it was coming. His parents had been counting down the days until Shawn would no longer be their concern. He had a troubled youth, and with his strict religious upbringing, he’d been a disappointment to the family one too many times. But no amount of preparation could've prepared him for how hard life would become.

From hole-in-the-wall strip joints to discreet gentlemen’s clubs, Shawn went wherever the money was. With a pretty face like his, he became a hot commodity. But in just a short few years, he wanted out. Though stripping paid his bills, it was a cut-throat business. His inexperience had been taken advantage of. Promoters were shady. Dancers would smile in his face and stab him in the back. Men became too handsy. He’d been robbed after leaving the club twice – once at gunpoint. It had gotten scary, and it wasn't worth losing his life.

Everything changed the night Shawn worked at a gentlemen’s club near the richer part of town. He got approached by a high profiler, Ric Flair. Shawn was used to guys hitting on him, but the request the man made was odd – accompany him to some social event as arm candy. Shawn initially brushed him off, but when Ric pulled out a stack of cash, offering him thousands of dollars for his time, that’s when Shawn learned how much his pretty face was worth.

Ric was a well-connected man, and through him, Shawn was able to meet some of his most elite clients. Doctors, lawyers, top execs – all wealthy men that funded a lifestyle Shawn could only dream of. He played the game. He learned how to swindle men, how to make them feel special, how to make them fall in love with him. He learned how to adapt and become whoever they wanted him to be.

They all seemed to have their own reasons for his services. Some were on the down low, married, or just looking for a good time with a cute guy. Shawn never cared to ask. He only cared about the money. He was lucky enough to not have to take his clothes off for most of them. But the more money got thrown his way, the blurrier the line between escorting and prostitution became.

It was through Ric that Shawn met Hunter. Admittedly, Shawn knew more about him than he should – entertainment exec, closeted bisexual, unhappy marriage, hates his wife, staying in it for the kids. But Hunter was one of the sweeter guys Shawn serviced and one of his top spenders. It became the norm for Shawn to receive Rolexes, diamonds, and expensive cologne that Hunter would request Shawn to only wear for him. He spoiled him rotten, so the blond didn’t mind learning the little details of Hunter’s life that would slip into conversation.

“You’re worth so much more than you know.” Hunter treaded a hand through Shawn’s hair, pulling the blond closer until their foreheads touched. He whispered, “You have no idea how much I want to make you mine.”

Shawn’s smirk deepened. Men were too easy. “You have no idea how many times I've heard that. But it means so much more coming from you, daddy.”

“Oh, yeah?” Hunter’s eyes went to Shawn’s lips, shifting closer until they’re just a breath away.

Before he could move further, Shawn stopped him. “Ah, ah. You know the rules. Lips are off limits.” Except for one man.

Just then, they heard a firm knock. Shawn’s eyes flitted to the door before looking back at Hunter. “Time’s up. Make sure to tip Diesel on the way out.”

Hunter let out a deep sigh. He knew the drill by now, but it didn't make leaving any easier. “Sure thing.” He slinked out of bed and grabbed his boxers from the floor. Shawn made himself comfortable, taking in Hunter’s sculpted body one last time as he got dressed.

After slipping on his shoes, Hunter pulled his wallet from his pocket, leaving a wad of cash on the nightstand. “Same time next week?”

Shawn eyeballed the cash, noting that Hunter overpaid. “Whatever you want. I’m yours, Mr. Helmsley.”

Hunter would’ve melted in a puddle had it not been for the persistent knock on the door reminding him to leave. He nearly jumped back when he opened the door to Shawn’s seven-foot- tall bodyguard looming over him like he was ready to pounce. Hunter slipped him a $100 bill as he exited the room, already thinking of another excuse to tell his wife, Stephanie.

Diesel shut the door behind him, taking off his dark shades to observe the room. Shawn’s laced lingerie lay discarded on the floor near his skimpy robe. Money sat untouched on the nightstand. Candles still burned as sex lingered in the air. A used condom littered the floor. His boss was sprawled out on the bed, looking completely spent. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Shawn gave a slack smile when his eyes met Diesel’s, making grabby hands towards his bodyguard. Diesel rounded the bed to Shawn’s side before sitting next to him. He placed a hand on Shawn’s head, tucking away loose hairs that were stuck to his face.

“Are you good?” Shawn nodded, humming in content as Diesel lightly scratched his scalp. “Did he treat you well?” After another nod, Diesel said, “Use your words.”

“Yes, big daddy.” A blush rushed to Diesel’s cheeks despite his stoic expression. Shawn snorted, always getting a kick out of making him squirm. But his laughter died down when he noticed Diesel reaching for the comforter. “You don’t believe me?”

Diesel didn’t respond and Shawn didn’t fight him when he pulled back the comforter. Diesel went still when he saw the light bruises on Shawn’s hips and thighs.

Shawn sat up with a sigh, hugging his knees to his chest. “Don’t look like that, big guy. I let him do it. Riding dick ain’t for the faint-hearted.” And when you rode dick as good as him, he couldn’t blame Hunter for wanting to keep a tight grip.

That put Diesel a little at ease. He had to rough up a few of Shawn’s clients in the past who seemed to not understand the concept of consent.

Diesel reached out a hand, rubbing at the knee that usually gave Shawn trouble. A slow smile spread onto Shawn’s lips. Diesel’s hands were always more tender than anyone who ever touched him. But his smile wavered when Diesel asked, “How long do you plan to keep doing this? You don’t have to-”

“Hey. No being captain save-a-hoe.”

“I’m not. I’m just asking. I mean, you’ve been doing this for a while now. You’ve made good money. You should give yourself a break.”

Shawn was quiet for a moment. “I already told you – when I save up enough money to buy a ranch and get you a truck.”

“Shawn-”

“When all of this is over and I’m retired on my ranch, you deserve to focus on yourself for once. Start that trucking company you always wanted and hit the road.”

It was a sweet gesture, one that made Diesel appreciate Shawn more than the blond knew. But at the moment, Shawn was his main priority.

“Shawn, I don’t need a truck. I just need for you to be ok.”

“I am,” Shawn emphasized. “Seriously. Stop worrying so much. You’ll get wrinkles.”

That got a small smile from Diesel, which Shawn took as a win. “Unlike you, I don’t get paid for my looks. I’m paid to worry about you, blondie. Do you remember the last time you told me not to worry? You ended the session with your hair ripped out.”

Shawn exhaled, subconsciously touching the spot where his hair had filled in. “Yeah. Bret was a kinky bastard, wasn’t he?” That was putting it lightly.

It happened in Shawn’s early escorting days. The days before he knew what his boundaries were. Bret had been one of Shawn’s rougher clients. Shawn assumed he had some internalized homophobia based on their interactions. Their sessions were usually filled with gay slurs and hate sex that bordered on sadism.

There were many times that Shawn should have walked away. But Bret paid really well. Shawn couldn’t afford not to keep up with his new expensive lifestyle. However, Diesel wasn’t happy to see the mess that Bret always left behind.

The last straw came when Diesel was forced to stand by and hear Shawn’s muffled cries coming through the hotel door. He couldn’t tell if Shawn was really hurt or if it was part of the act, but Shawn never allowed him to enter until the session was over. When Bret left, Diesel hurried inside to find Shawn curled on the floor in the fetal crying, loose strands of hair surrounding him and his body covered in raised welts. It took hours of comforting Shawn to get him out of the poor headspace he was in.

Shawn never told him what all happened that night, but it was the catalyst for them to create safe words and signals for Diesel to stop the session if things became too much.

Shawn reached for Diesel’s hand, saying lightly, “Hunter’s one of the good ones, remember? If something went down, I would tell you. Promise.”

Diesel looked down at their hands. He gave Shawn’s hand a squeeze, which was returned by the blond. “Did you at least finish this time?”

Shawn answered as if it was obvious. “I always finish with Hunter. That nose of his isn’t the only thing that’s big on him.”

“Didn’t need the details.”

Shawn snickered and playfully tugged at Diesel’s arm. “But Kev-”

“It’s Diesel,” he corrected. 

“Not to me.”

There was a pregnant pause as they looked into each other’s softening gazes. Their relationship had been an odd one from the start. They met when Diesel worked security at one of the clubs Shawn stripped at. After Shawn got robbed the second time, Diesel offered to take Shawn home every night. Shawn didn’t have many friends, so he appreciated having someone look after him. When Shawn decided to do escorting full time, Diesel was the only person he trusted to keep him safe.

They hooked up a few times between then and now, but made sure not to go any further than that. It made escorting much easier when feelings weren’t involved. But it was easier said than done. Shawn was a huge flirt. Diesel was a huge cuddler. Shawn was a good kisser. Diesel was a good fuck. The waters grew murky as they shifted between coworkers, friends with benefits, and something more complicated.

Diesel glanced at the clock. “It’s getting late. Do you need anything? Water? Snacks?”

“You.”

Diesel lifted a brow with a humored breath. “Me? Well, lucky for you, I’m not going anywhere.” He was expecting Shawn to laugh as well, but all he received was a faraway look in Shawn’s eyes.

“Why do you stay?” Diesel tilted his head, the abrupt question catching him off-guard. But Shawn didn’t give him a chance to respond. “Everyone leaves me, Kev. Family. Friends. Clients. But you? After all of these years, you’re still here. Why?”

The question floated between them, echoing in Diesel’s head as he searched for an answer. In short, Shawn was his boss. Paid him handsomely. Gave him whatever days off he needed. Why would he ever want to leave the job?

But that was a copout answer.

It wasn't about the job. They had history. Diesel was one of few people that saw Shawn for more than his body. They got to know each other beyond the surface. He was more than a bodyguard. He was his friend, his protector, his emotional support human. And on lonely nights, his lover. As much as Shawn depended on him, Diesel depended on the blond just the same. Shawn had a hold on him, except this time it wasn’t a strategic ploy to get money or expensive jewelry like with other men. It was an organic connection between them.

But that answer was deep, too deep for what they were. So, he said what needed to be said without saying too much. “Because I care about you.” Diesel held his gaze with Shawn, letting those words sink in. “I’m here because I want to be, not because I have to be, Shawn. And the day you decide to leave this lifestyle, I’ll still be here, protecting you from whatever comes your way.”

Shawn wasn’t sure what he expected to hear, but that was exactly what he needed to hear. Men threw themselves at him all the time, but he still couldn't help but feel empty inside. He was just an object used to fulfill their needs. And at the end of the day, they went back to their lives, to their loved ones who were unaware of their dirty little secret named Shawn Michaels.

Sometimes, he just needed to be reminded that he wasn’t alone, that he had more to offer than his body. Fortunately, he had Diesel by his side.

Shawn nodded with a small smile. “Thank you.” And that was all that needed to be said.

Diesel took a good look at Shawn and knew his role. “Alright, let’s get you nice and clean. It’s been a long night.”

Shawn reached out his hands with a pout like a greedy child. “Carry me?”

Diesel had to hold back his eye roll, but he did as he was told. Shawn giggled gleefully when Diesel scooped him out of bed bridal style. “Oh, how I love a man that takes care of me.”

That’s how their nights usually ended – Diesel tending to Shawn after a session, cleaning him, dressing him, tucking him in bed, counting the money they made for the day. And sometimes, when it got later in the night, Shawn would give Diesel a soft kiss that grew into something more, a kiss that held a secret that neither would acknowledge in the morning.

#divider cr: @h-aewo #kevin nash x shawn michaels #shawnter #shawn michaels #kevin nash #triple h #mentioned bret hart #wwf #alternate universe #wwe fanfiction

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migueloharaslave · 8 months

Text

WARNING!!!!!!!!! NSFW WILL OCCUR HERE SO SKIP IT IF U WANT OR WHATEVER (obv it's not the best cuz im still new to this pookies)🗣🤪🫶

"You always do this shit. Why do you keep asking me that?" Shawn groaned in annoyance as he slammed the refrigerator door.

"Well I can't help it. Sometimes it just feels like you don't even love me anymore. You haven't even took me on a date in a fucking year." You choked back tears as you studied his movements. Shawn then decided to walk up to you, he pushed you down onto a chair, pointing a finger at you. "You're a bitch. You constantly fucking say 'do you even love me anymore?' Of course I fucking do. I don't take you on dates because your always busy with that dumb job. Plus, I think your cheating. Who's that guy you've been texting.. Miguel? Yeah, you didn't think I saw that on your phone? What fucking guy asks a girl 'You free tonight?' You got something you wanna tell me?"

You stared up at him, you felt tears form in your eyes as you stared at him. "M-Miguel is a friend. He's just a friend I've met at work! I wouldn't cheat on you and you know that. I see him nothing more than a close friend. Sometimes we hangout and eat dinner together that's it." You choked back your tears as she you stared at him, fidgeting with the bottom of your shirt.

"Uh-huh. Whatever you fucking say. I'm going out, don't call me." Shawn scoffed as he stormed off out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

You stared off into the distance before bursting out into tears, all these bottled up emotions were now coming out. You've been dealing with this toxic relationship for so long.. You didn't know how to get out of it though. You felt so attached to him.. emotionally. He's the only boy to ever lay eyes on you, sure you may had a huge glow up since highschool, but deep down you still felt insecure. You sniffed as your last few tears dropped, then you heard your phone vibrate against the table, you picked it up and saw it was Miguel. You wiped your tears away as you cleared your throat and answered.

"Hey." You said in a soft voice.

"Hey.. You sound weird. Are you alright?" Miguel responded, furrowing his brows at the tone of your voice.

"Yeah, just allergies." You giggled.

"Yknow.. If anything is bothering you, you can always talk to me." Miguel spoke in a stern voice.

"I-.."

"Tell me."

"I don't know.. I just don't want anything bad to happen."

"Nothing is going to happen, I wouldn't let a thing happen to you. Talk to me."

"It's my boyfriend."

Miguel scoffed.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Well anyways, Shawn is accusing me of cheating. Just because we hang out. He thinks just because you asked me if im free tonight that I'm hooking up with you or some shit, it's annoying. I would never cheat, I love him so much."

"Oh... I see. So, he's jealous of me?"

"I guess."

Miguel smirked, "He's jealous because I'm treating you the way any other man would treat a wonderful woman like you. 8 years together and still no ring, he's not worth it. Not at all."

"But I love him. He's just going through a lot.."

"And he takes his anger out on you."

"Well.. I don't mind."

"Are you being serious right now?"

"Yes, I'm not a good girlfriend to him anyways."

"Whatever, stop talking about him. Let's focus on us, hm?"

"Yeah.."

"Great. Soo.. still gonna go out with me tonight?"

"We're not going out together. We're two friends hanging out."

"Still, you wanna go? I have no plans.. "

"Yeah, I'm going still."

"Great, I'll pick you up."

"Okay, bye."

"Bye." You hung up.

"Love you too." Miguel whispered at his phone. He sighed and sat it down on the table. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. God, he was head over heels for you. Although you two barely even met, he felt so close to you already. Call him obsessed with the way he remembers every single detail. Miguel stood up, and walked over to a window, looking out at the city. He had a great paying job, which was the reason he would be able to afford all of those dates. And there should be no surprise that he lives in a penthouse, his apartment was black and red themed, definitely gave off a romantic vibe.

..You put on a white sweater with a casual jean skirt along with white legwarmers to give it a more cozy vibe, and black boots to top off the outfit, the outfit was cute so of course you did a half up half down hairstyle while slipping a white bow in your hair. You were fixing your lashes that you were putting on before you heard the doorbell ring, you gasped when you knew it was Miguel. "Shit!" You scattered around the room to find your purse, you snatched it up when you found it laying on the ground. You made sure to spray yourself with some perfume before dashing out to the door. You took a deep breath before opening it, looking up.. you saw Miguel.

Miguel.. That man knew how to take your breath away. He wore a white sweater and jeans.. just like you did. You glanced down at what was in his arms.. purple roses?

"Heh, seemed like we decided to match." Miguel chuckled to himself as he invited himself in ,walking past you he looked around, peeked around the corner, then back at you. Scrunching up his nose he asked, "Where's that boyfriend of yours?"

"He went out.." You closed the door and bit your lip as you watched him, eyes examining his strong build before he handed you the flowers.

"Purple roses, just like you told me you liked. I thought since you liked the color purple and roses that'll I'll get you both instead." Miguel hummed.

"Thank you, they're beautiful." You smiled to yourself, you grabbed a empty vase, feeling it with a little bit of water. You sat it down on the middle of the table, taking the roses out of the plastic before slipping them into the vase smiling at them.

Miguel looked at you, his eyes seemed to narrow as he watched the way you moved across the kitchen. You were kinda like a swan, all graceful and soft with your movements better yet you could be a goddess. A goddess who deserves more in her life then some poor idiot. Miguel scoffed and looked off to the side as he just thought about your boyfriend, the way he treated you.. he hated it.

"What's wrong? You look upset." You looked at him before stepping close to him. Miguel turned his head to look back into those eyes of yours, he licked his lips as he felt his throat go dry.

"Nothing." Miguel closed his eyes and sighed, that vanilla perfume you wore was starting to drive him crazy. "Let's go, Hopefully you don't mind walking. It's not too far from your apartment."

"Fine with me." You smiled.

You two made your way out of the apartment making your way down the streets of Nueva York, the streets were crowded so you held onto Miguel's arm as in hopes to not lose him. Soon, you two made it to the restaurant. It seemed to be a fun little colorful spot filled with laughter and a live jazz band playing.

Your eyes widened with excitement at the vibes this whole place gave off, it was so colorful.. it smelled absolutely amazing, there was nothing but happiness all around. You and Miguel found a spot to sit next to near the band so you could watch them play.

Miguel pulled out your chair, when you sat down, he pushed it in before sitting down himself. He watched you as you smiled watching the band play, seeing your smile.. the way your smile stretched across ear from ear, the way your dimples showed. It felt like he was trapped. Trapped in this curse you had put on him, he bit his lip as you looked over at him, you two locking eyes. He felt his heart pound in his chest, only God knows how long he has been staring at you.

You looked up as a waiter walked over with a big grin, handing you two a menu. "Hello, hopefully you two are enjoying your evening so far. I'll be your waiter, any drinks I can start you guys off with. We have soda, water, some wine.. and don't miss out on our little deal for couples!"

"Oh we're not a couple. Just friends." Miguel cleared his throat, you nodded your head in agreement.

"..Oh. Well, how about you skip over that deal." The waiter chuckled nervously.

"Uhh.. I'll have a coke. You, Miguel?" You smiled at him.

" I'll have iced tea." He looked back at you.

"Okay, okay.. I'll get those ready right quick!" The waiter walked off.

"Thank you for bringing me here. I like it.. It's been awhile since my boyfriend and I been out together, it just feels nice to not be trapped in that apartment." You sighed as you looked into the distance.

Miguel reached his hand across the table, placing his hand on top of yours. He dragged his thumb across the back of your soft hands. "Leave him."

"What?" Your frowned at him. "That's a weird thing to say." You laughed.

"No, I'm being serious." Miguel squeezed your hand, "I.. I think I'm in love with you. You're so beautiful and just overall perfect, someone like him doesn't deserve you. I can treat your better, I wanna be yours."

You stared into his eyes as you listened to his love confession, you shook your head. "No.. No I can't. Miguel.. I have feelings for you too but I just can't leave Shawn. He's.. He's my boyfriend, he's the only guy I've ever been with."

"Let me be the second and last guy you'll ever be with."

"Miguel." You cocked a eyebrow at him.

"Y/N." Again, he rolled your name off of his tongue in such a way that it made your body ache for him.

The waiter came over and sat your drinks down, holding up her notepad as she smiled at you both. "What can I get for ya?"

..About a good hour and a half later, you and Miguel were walking down the street. "Wanna come over to my place, maybe we can watch a movie or two..?"

"Sounds nice" you smiled softly.

"Great. Let me call a uber."

And after a good ten minutes, you finally arrived at his place. When he opened the door, you gasped. "Oh my god.. It's like a vampire lives here." You joked, looking around. Everything was so nice, way better than your old apartment. You started to walk around, dragging your hands along the wall as you made your way over to the window that overlooked the city. It was night, so the city lights were so bright, everything looked like dream as if it could take your breath away.

Miguel followed you, moving to stand right behind you. "Nice, isn't it?"

"Yeah.." You whispered, looking up at him.

Miguel brushed a strand of hair out of your face as you two locked eyes, his lips parted as his heart nearly skipped a beat. He felt as if his heart was running laps around his lungs as if it was going to do a back as if.. and something soft touched his lips before he knew. Suddenly, his hands found their way to your waist, pushing you closer.

You wrapped your arms around Miguel's neck, closing your eyes as you leaned into the kiss. It was so passionate, you had to part your lips just to deepen the kiss. The feel his hands on your waist was driving you crazy.

Suddenly, Miguel pulled away, He stared into your eyes. "God you drive me crazy.."

"Where's your bedroom?" You asked with a smirk on your face. Suddenly your at home life didn't exist, suddenly Shawn didn't exist. Suddenly Miguel was the only man you wanted, suddenly.. you were in his bed.

You two continued to kiss, practically trying to eat each other's face off at this point. You were desperately lifting Miguel's shirt up, trying to get a glimpse of those muscles. Miguel pulled away, lifting up his sweater and tossing it aside. He exposed those strong abs along with those strong pecs, god the way his body slimmed down at his waist honestly drove you crazy. You bit your lip as you caressed those strong arms of his giggling as you sat up, allowing Miguel to take off your sweater too.

Miguel leaned in, pecking kisses along your neck. He mumbled soft praises along your tender skin, hands on your waist dragging down to your skirt. You couldn't help but feel desperate, the way he unbuttoned your skirt with ease, nearly tearing it off he finally toss them aside, exposing your panties to him. Miguel kissed your ankle before pecking kisses down to your inner thigh, he looked up at you with hungry eyes. He licked his lips as he leaned forward, catching your lips in a kiss once again as he brought his hand down, pressing his palms against your clothed cunt

You let out a small whimper in response which caused him to chuckle. You felt your body heat up as you started to grind your hips against his hand, god how long has it been.. your boyfriend hadn't touched you in what felt like forever, better yet he never made sex feel this exciting. Miguel's pulled out off the kiss to catch his breath, his eyes narrowed as he stared into your eyes. He hummed as he leaned down, pecking kiss down until he reached your lace trimmed panties, he pulled them down gently. He looked up at you, smiling softly. "Tell me when I should stop. I want to make you feel good, not hurt you. You're everything to me.. I want you to have every good thing in this world, mi amor." His words was so smoothing and comforting, the way he talked drove you crazy.

You bit down on your lip as you sat up on your elbows watching the way he propped your legs up on his shoulder. You gripped down onto the sheet when you felt him lick at your slit, your voice hitched when his tongue started to circle around your clit. "M-Miguel.." You whispered, bringing you hand down to grip onto his hair as he started to gently suck on your clit. Miguel pulled away and giggled, dragging his tongue along your clit before pushing it inside of you drove you crazy the way he gently pushed in it out, flicking against your pulsing walls.. everything was pushing you to the edge.

Suddenly, Miguel grew bold, which is exactly why he pushed a single fingers inside, watching your reaction before he slipped a second inside. "Oh g-god.." You cried as you leaned your head back, your walls clenching around his fingers. Miguel started to thrust his fingers in and out at a gentle pace, then he started speeding up as he leaned in and started sucking your clit again. He looked up at you, watching the way you reacted to the way he made you feel.. you were so beautiful, the way your chest heaved when you took a deep breath.. he couldn't help but chuckle.

Suddenly, his pace quickened even more, his pace quickened suddenly and you let out a cry. "M-Miguel..!" You cried out his name, gripping onto the silk sheets of his bed, wrapping your legs around his head as you groaned. "I'm.. I'm gonna c-come.." You whined. You felt your thigh twitched, biting down on your lip you threw your head back, crying with pleasure. Suddenly, just as you were getting close, it all stopped.

Miguel had pulled away, "Not yet." He spoke softly, leaning in and gently kissing you, making you taste yourself on his lips. "But.. Please, Miguel.." You whined.

Miguel smirked as he leaned over, "You might as well get ready.." He grabbed a condom from the night stand, "It's gonna be a long night."

..After a night of nonstop loud moans and the sound of skin slapping against each other, it was finally morning.. and oh boy you woke up to something crazy. Not Miguel, but your boyfriend or.. ex spam calling your phone. You groaned as you sat up, glancing over at Miguel who was still sound asleep. "My god.." You hissed as you felt your thighs feel numb as you tried to stand up. Maybe you should start doing yoga again because you were not ready for this. You grabbed your phone and sighed, you stood up and answered the phone.

"WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? You haven't been answering your fucking phone, You weren't at the fucking apartment. Your friends said you aren't with them. Where the fuck are you? Huh? Answer me damnit." Shawn grinned his teeth to try and keep his composure.

Just as you felt tears fill up your eyes.. and just as you were about to speak, Miguel snatched your phone. "Hello?" Miguel asked.

"Who the fuck is this? Why the fuck are you with my girlfriend?"

"..The same guy she told you not to worry about." Miguel hung up the phone.

#miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara angst

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ilovebokutokoutaro · 1 year

Text

Mercy

Minho x reader

P.s. reading it with "mercy" by shawn mendes may bring out feels because i wrote it listening to that😭.

Warning: um angst ahhahah and angst and hints of self hate and ignorance mental illness and all that.

You were tired.

Tired of the constant ignorance, tired of the constant distance, the distance that had become so huge that you were sure falling apart the more you crawled towards him. Minho tend to put a lot of gap between you and his feelings.

The only share you were allowed to have when you agreed to be his girlfriend was the good one, he only ever came to you when he was happy and as good as it sounds it was not. You were never allowed to comfort him, whenever he was upset he'd cut you off, whenever he was stressed he'd ignore you and when he felt okay he'd shower you with love.

At first it felt nice, the compensation for his ignorance was so much love that it covered your breaking heart and you went on and on and on untill the ignorance became a routine. No matter what you did he was always mad...and you were left wondering where have you even gone wrong.

You were tired of hearing the empty i love you's, you wanted to cry, yell at him for making you feel so alone. All this hopelessness led you to overworking, because you'd never know when he'd leave you because you were not....you would never be good enough for him to seek anything from you.

At one point his disassociation with you had gotten so bad that the only time he'd smile at you was when he had sex with you, he'd tell you he loved you and look like he meant it only then. And the thoughts began to take root in your heart and head, breaking everything inside you apart as the roots grew deeper and stronger piercing all of your body, growing out of you skin, punching through your gut and soon damaging your whole self.

Overthinking was like that and it was worse when the words from someone never matched their actions. You had talked about this to him so many times that at this point you had given up. You wanted to leave, rip out all the roots from your body and throw them away somewhere deep in the smallest part of you worth.

His mental health deteriorated and he grew even more distant, both you busying your schedule in hopes you'd not have to face the lies he uttered and he'd not have to face the pain in your eyes as he avoided you.

And soon the only times you saw each other became the night, where you pretended to be asleep and he'd slowly slide in behind you, everyday he'd hold you, then slowly retrace his hands back and sigh, sometimes he cried, sometimes he told you he loved you, sometimes he'd say sorry.

And you laid there heart being ripped open at his slightest touch, skin burning wherever he kiss you thinking you were asleep. You could see your relationship falling apart, all the dreams you had put together slowly fading away to the most painful part of your chest and growing it huge in size.

You were so tired at this point that you couldn't turn yourself around as he cried to your back that he was hurting too much, that he couldn't take it anymore.

A part of you dying to comfort him and the other begging for mercy, mercy out of this immense pain, begging him to stop hurting you, you couldn't take it anymore either.

And so you cried, cutting off his sobs with your louder ones, he was eating you up alive. "Please stop! Stop treating me like I'm some-one not worthy of being able to be by your side, i feel so bad minho, I'm hurting, I'm begging you to stop hurting me so much. Where am i going wrong? I'll do anything so pleas- please stop breaking me apart-" you choked on a sob, the feeling of your tears hitting the pillow hollowing your chest even more, and when his hand touched your waist to pull you towards him-

You jerked awake, in a puddle on your own sweat and tears, he was not holding you, it was morning, the morning after him crying. You had woken up too early, you could hear the shower running, you wanted to go back to sleep to pretend you were not hurting but your chest grew heavier and tears flooded your vision again.

No matter how much you talked to him their was no response, he'd not answer back to your begs and you were exhausted. Please please someone- 'i want to leave i want to leave i need to leave please i want to leave please please let me go i need to-'

"i want to break up" you muttered loud enough as he opened the bathroom door, steps coming to a halt as you stared at his body, water dropping from his chest down the towel wrapped around his waist, dampening it just like your tears dampened the pillow.

You laid on you back, sprawled in the most casual way as you cried, "please i need to leave this" you cried harder as the words made their way past your lips.

You could hear shuffling, sniffling and then a thud, "what?" He muttered kneeling down on the edge of bed, eyes bloodshot as his hands trembled.

"y/n...what?" He uttered again letting put a small pained chuckle.

Grabbing your hand and pushing it against his cheek and you tilted your head to look at him in the eyes. "Please..." You cried tears interrupting you from looking at him.

"i can't take it anymore minho, how many times do i cry....how many times do i tell you that you're ignoring me, no matter what i do it's always wrong you're so far away it hurts, it's tearing me apart. I need to leave. I can't take this anymore.." you sighed pulling your hand away as you sat up, ready to wipe away you tears but he was quick to steal your hands back.

"no I'll change please don't lose hope in me i will change i swear i will- i will do anything please" he uttered, trembling hard as he watched you with the most heartbreaking look you've ever seen on him.

But you couldn't, you were ready to give up this time, you couldn't go back, your mental space had become such a hell living with him, the only thoughts that you knew spiraled through your head were how you would never be enough for him...for anyone. How you were not worthy to be heard of, how no one really ever cared about you and that you needed to leave. All of them were wrong except the latter one, the last one held power, you'd maybe hate yourself for leaving him maybe everyone else would too but you had to, to keep yourself sane...to keep yourself alive.

And so you stood up, blocking out his cries as you dressed up and left telling him you'd be back later to take your stuff.

For now you needed the space he wasn't willing to give you, maybe you'd come back, maybe he'd change, maybe it'll all come together but for now all you felt was hopeless...all you felt was pain.

#straykids minho #lee minho angst #skz angst #skz #skz imagines #stray kids #skz minho #minho angst #minho icons #lee minho #lee know angst #lee know #skz moodboard #skz chan #skz icons #stray kids comfort #stray kids angst #stray kids minho

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afewproblems · 2 months

Text

WIP Weekend! (Starting Early)

Is it even considered a Psych Fic if there is not an obligatory rewrite of Henry arresting Shawn? Here is a snippet from my newest WIP for the Psych fandom. We goin' for angst people! (How can I not, it's my bread and butter!)

"Shawn swallows hard as his dad steps up beside him and sighs, long and low.

“Do you understand what you did tonight?” Henry says slowly, “how serious it is?”

Shawn stops himself from rolling his eyes but it's a near thing, “is it still considered grand theft auto if we only went a mile?”

Henry laughs once, a sharp puff of air without humor, somehow it's worse than if he would just yell. His dad looks at Shawn for another beat before he finally seems to make a decision. Henry squares his broad shoulders and reaches out to grab Shawn roughly by the shirt once again, dragging him off of the bench and hauling him to his feet with a squawk.

“Shawn Spencer,” Henry says firmly, “you have the right to remain silent, anything you say can be held against you in a court of law--”

“What?!” Shawn says as he nearly stumbles with the force that his dad is moving forward with, one hand on his shirt and the other tightly circled around Shawns upper arm.

“You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford an attorney one will be appointed to you,” Henry continues as if Shawn had said nothing. He doesn't look at Shawn as they make their way to the unmarked station wagon.

“Dad--”

Henry lets go of Shawns shirt, leaving the fabric stretched and nearly torn and opens the back car door. With the same free hand he presses firmly on Shawn's head, pushing him into the back seat.

“Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?” Henry says stiffly standing in front of the open car door.

“What no handcuffs,” Shawn bites out, his chest rises and falls quickly as anger and hurt swirl and thrum against his ribcage, “gee Dad I always knew you were a softy”.

Henry slams the car door without another word before making his way around to the driver's side. The vehicle sags as Henry slides into the driver's seat.

The radio comes to life, the first few notes of Every Breath You Take plays over the sound system only for Henry to slam his hand down on the volume knob before the true irony of the song can be appreciated.

The familiar drive to the station feels so much longer in the heavy silence that hangs in the car. Shawn looks into the rearview mirror every now and again, trying to catch his dads angry gaze but Henry keeps his eyes on the road, his expression stony.

When they finally pull into the station, Henry parks the car and sits for a moment, Shawn watches as his dad takes a deep breath before turning off the engine, he hasn't said a word since reading Shawn his rights, it's unnerving to say the least.

He expects his dad to rail against him the whole way down to the station, to tear another strip off him like he had back at Lookout Point but Henry merely leaves the driver's seat, walks around the vehicle to grab Shawn, and walks him through the double doors of the station.

Henry's hand is loose around Shawns arm, rather than the bruising grip from earlier when his dad hauled him off the car. For a wild moment, Shawn considers making a run for it.

“Listen,” Henry says after a beat, he stops their march to the desk sergeant and pulls Shawn aside into the hall, “if that boy put you up to this, I can get that squad car to turn around--”

“Tony didn't put me up to anything, don't--he's not--he's going to Princeton next year and he doesn't need m--” Shawn nearly stumbles trying to catch the words before they escape. He swallows hard against the lump in his throat and feels his eyes begin to sting, the threat of tears that has been building since red and blue lights lit up the night makes Shawn wish the floor of the station would open up and swallow him whole.

Henry stares at Shawn now with narrowed eyes, the longer he looks the more it feels like being dissected, assessed.

He realizes his mistake too late to backtrack, not taking the out from his dad he always wished for, the benefit of the doubt was a trap.

Then Henry's eyes land on Shawn's neck, where the collar of his shirt has been stretched, where the beginnings of a small red hickey have started forming.

Shit.

Shawn tries to lift his hand to cover the mark but he's not fast enough to stop his dad from smacking his arm away with one hand while the other opens his shirt collar even more.

Shawn watches a myriad of expressions move across his dads face, before settling on something resembling disappointment. He's not sure how long they stay like that before Henry slowly begins to shake his head.

“Jesus,” Henry breathes out weakly, “first the car and now,” he drops his hands away from Shawn and takes a step back, “as if we don't have enough to worry about, you're--you're carrying on with some boy like a, like a--”

“Like a what, dad, huh?” Shawn says hoarsely, he balls both hands into firsts to hide the way they shake.

While he hadn't been sure what to expect from his dad, despite Gus’ insistence that he should just tell Henry the truth, some small part of Shawn had hoped that his reaction wouldn't sting this much.

His dad says nothing, looking around as though his head is on a swivel, not that he needs to worry. The station is quiet save for a few night shift officers milling around, Shawn can vaguely hear the desk sergeant chatting on the phone about her weekend plans.

“This is going to kill your mother,” Henry says, wiping a heavy hand down his face and taking another step back.

Will be posting the full fic hopefully this weekend! Let me know what you think and if you would like to be tagged in the full post! @adaed5 I know it's just a snippet but I remember you wanted me to tag you! 😊

#afewproblems writes #psych fanfiction #psych #wip weekend #shawn spencer #henry spencer #cw period typical homophobia #henry spencer is not a good dad #shawn spencer whump #hurt shawn spencer #psych canon divergence #bisexual shawn spencer #this fic is a little self indulgent but i deserve a treat

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sunwoowrites · 1 year

Text

Let me treat you better.

Han Jisung x Y/n

fem!reader

Angst, comfort.

TW: swearing.

I sighed sitting up, pulling the duvet to cover my bare skin up. The sun shone through the large windows of my bedroom. The place next to me empty. My apartment still and quiet. I frowned grabbing my phone. I dialed his number. Straight to voicemail. I frowned. I messaged him.

Y/n

Shawn? Where are you? Did you leave already?

not sent!

That fucker. Did he block me? What the fuck! You're mine baby. I ran my hands through my face and hair. Pulling at it with frustration. I screamed and kicked at the bed. Tears stained my cheeks. Then again it's nothing new.

I huffed standing up pulling the duvey with me until I reached the bathroom. Dropping it to the floor and went into the shower. You feel so fucking good. I opened the cold water tap and let it wash my sadness away. The cold water somehow burning my skin.

I walked into my closet and put on Sungies hoodie and my tights. I grabbed my phone off my side table and went to the lounge slamming my bedroom door shut. I was met with silence. I dialed sungies number. "The number you have dialed is not available please try again later." I quickly typed out a message.

Y/n

Hey sungie. Wanna hang today?

sent 11:06am

I sniffled and put on music to play in the background to mute out the remains of last night. Seconds, minutes and then hours past and he didn't reply. I chuckled before going to the kitchen pulling out a mug and making a cup of coffee. What did you expect Y/n. I frowned.

"I don't wanna feel, how I did last night." The song that was on the t.v mocked me. So good. I winced at his words. The hot water spilling and burning my hand. My phone rang. I groaned and went to answer. "y/n?" Sungie. Finally.

"Hey. Did you just wake up?" His laugh echoed. "Duh, when do i ever wake up early?" I smiled. "Wanna hang today?" I heard a shuffle and a yawn. "yeah sure. I'll be there in ten." I nodded. "Cool see you." I sighed and hurridly started cleaning the mess. My clothes in the kitchen. The wine glasses on the coffee table. The duvet. The condom packet. The messed sheets.

I sat in the lounge and huffed. The door bell rang. I opened. "Y/n?" I smiled. "Hey." He chuckled. "someone got laid last night." he said walking in and my face fell. "what?" He pointed to my neck. "Those look pretty intense, bite marks and everything." I moved the hoodie to cover up and shifted on my feet uncomfortably. "what? whats wrong?" I sniffled. "nothing". I hurridly walked past him. He grabbed my wrist. "y/n." he said sternly.

"He left before I could wake up." I mumbled, my eyes starting to burn with tears of regret. He pulled me into a hug and rubbed my back and I let everything out. "T-They do this all the time s-sungie.." He kissed my forehead and mumbled. "Y/n-ie..." I sobbed. "He just used me..."

"The dates and everything meant nothing didn't it, the sweet gestures, the cute remarks, late night drives and deep convo's, everything meant nothing. And when he finally got what he wanted he left." He hugged me tighter. "He should've been grateful that he even got date. What an asshole." I nodded against his shoulder and mumbled. "he is an asshole."

"Its gunna be okay love. Lets sit okay. Have hot chocolate and ramyeon? Our combo." I smiled. He pulled my hand and I flinched. "ow." He looked at my hand. It was red. "Got burnt." I said shrugging my shoulders. His eyes went wide. "AND YOU DIDN'T TREAT THE WOUND?!" I pouted. "i'll be fin-" He pulled me to the kitchen to treat my wound. "shut up dumbass." I smiled. "Thanks sungie." He huffed.

"Don't go on dates with those douche bags anymore" He mumbled as I sat on the counter, looking at him "hmph" I huffed "Its unfair, I wanna be in a healthy relationship too sung." He pulled my hand in his, putting ointment on the burn. "Let me treat you better." He looked up at me and I knew he wasn't refering to the wound that he was treating.

I gulped and nodded, blushing. "good." He smiled, the tips of his ears turning red, looking at my wound as he treated it. "I'll treat you better..." he whispered leaving a soft kiss on the wound after."Shut up Han." I looked away, rolling my eyes, secretly blushing. He smiled. "Want some of that ramyeon?" He winked and I knocked his head with my knuckles. "Stop with your double meaning shit." He laughed. "Come on I'm serious. Let me be yours." I looked away as butterflies erupted in my stomach.

"Oh my god Han." He laughed. "What I didn't even do anything." I smiled looking back at him. "Let's have hot chocolate." His eyes widened. "Is that a yes or a no???" He followed me around as I made our drinks. "Y/n. Y/n. Y/n. Y/n." He poked my shoulder. I turned around, my hands on my hips.

"What do you think dumbass." He shrugged his shoulders and I turned to continue. He rested his head on my shoulder watching me as I put the hot chocolate powder into our mugs. "I'm serious tho. I'll treat you better y/n-ie." He whispered. "Yes." He looked at you. "what?" I rolled my eyes. "Yes Han. I'll be yours." He gasped. "Really??" I nodded. He wrapped his arms around my waist. I chuckled. "You're such a loser." He smiled. "Your loser."

Thank you for your support. ♡ ~ BIBI

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crazyk-imagine · 1 year

Text

Life of the Party

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!reader

Characters: Sirius Black, Fem!reader, James Potter, Lily Potter nee Evans, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Marlene McKinnon, Dorcas Meadows, Nymphadora Tonks (briefly mentioned), Harry Potter (briefly mentioned)

Warnings: Angst, this is random, during the first war, has bits of the sceond war involved, this probably doesn't track with the timeline, but certainly kept me entertained, not all information is accurate but that's to be expected, I had no idea where this was going, the last line makes me cry on the inside

Word Count: 2,601

A/N: Was I watching "Only Murders in the building" while writing this, giving it the murder mystery vibe, I feel it has? Maybe. No regrets though.

James took his time proposing

Voldemort slowly started getting stronger and then Peter joined him.

There are no known reactions to the bloodroot poison... I made up my own, hence the murder mystery vibe.

This is partially inspired by "Life of the Party" by Shawn Mendes

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’m telling you to take your shot, it might be scary.” You shrug, "maybe she's ready for you two to take the next step." You're just hoping that if you push him a little more, they can be even happier.

And maybe, James can finally shut up about wanting to have the same last name, whatever comes first.

James nods, taking in every word you’re saying.

“We don’t have the time to be sorry," you tell him.

The faint whispers of evil lurking around every corner are slowly becoming louder in your mind.

You hold your breath for a second.

“She’s right,” Marlene shrugs.

Dorcas shakes her head, not liking it when the two of you agree with one another.

The blonde shares a look with the girl closest to her. “Why doesn’t he just man up and ask her?”

The dark-haired woman shrugs, “I don’t know. You’re asking the wrong person.”

Sirius leans against you with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, "am I hearing that Prongs is going to be an idiot again? Still don't know how to pop the question, do you?"

James rolls his eyes. "Thank you," he says to you before running off. "Look at that, we're alone now."

“Are we invisible to you, you dolt?” Dorcas grabs Marlene’s wrist and hauls her out of your home.

“I think he's going to do it now.”

“He’s not.”

“You want to bet?”

The blonde nods, “I do. Ten pounds.”

“And a butter beer.”

Marlene scowls, “fine.”

They shake hands.

“You’re on.”

He sneaks around your home, making sure no one can see him. You shake your head. "Nice try, Sirius."

"What?" He pouts, following you after you brush him away from you.

"Don't push me away. I know you love me." He flutters his lashes as if that will further prove his case.

"I would love some peace and quiet. Besides, shouldn't you be checking on Remus right now? It's almost his time."

He sighs, "yeah. I just... wanted to see you before."

"Well, you did and now it's time to say goodbye."

"Fine, fine," he lets out a deep sigh, as if you've done something to him. "Promise me one thing?"

You stare into his eyes.

“You’ll tell me if you’ve been seeing things when I get back.”

You nod, gulping because you know what’s going to happen before then.

The corner of his lips curls upwards, thinking about being alone with you and hopefully asking you something he should have had a long time ago. "I'll be off now, little miss “life of the party”. I'll see you later?"

You rest your hands against the counter, preventing yourself from falling. You nod, "of course, Pads."

He smirks, shaking his head to rid him of his thoughts although he’s always fond when you call him by his nickname. "Alright, I'm off."

"Bye," you whisper, listening to his motorbike get farther from your home. You groan, raising one hand to your head. It's worse.

'The whispers get louder when the ticking stops.'

You want to forget it, but you can't.

His screams haunt you; you can't see his face, you don’t know who it is but it's more than enough to ruin your sleep, invading your mind at the most inconvenient times.

Your family's large grandfather clock chimes.

Nothing's going to work now, you know it. You don't know why you’re going in here but it’s the one place you believe to be in your best interest to reside in during this time.

You grab your wand from your boot and wave it.

The bookshelf moves out of the way.

A heavy breath escapes you.

No one but you know of your meek at home potions room. It's better this way, none of them will ask any questions or throw themselves into research.

By the time your clock chimes again, James and Lily will be the next future couple followed by a sweet little baby boy who will help carry on their family line.

Remus will be trying to finish his potion for the upcoming full moon.

Sirius will be the last of his siblings but not of his family's pureblood status.

And Peter-

“Come out tonight. Come out tonight,” you mutter, closing your eyes for a moment, waiting. "You found me."

"I never wanted this to happen."

"If you didn't want it to happen, you wouldn't have joined him. You wouldn’t have cowered into his grasp because you think he’s getting stronger."

"I- I'm sorry."

"Are you? Because I think you don’t have the time to be sorry. Or are you just saying that because of the bloodroot poison you put in my drink last week?"

Peter pauses in the doorway. "When did you know?"

"It's obvious when somethings not right with your body and you're stupid to think I wouldn't notice."

"You really want to fight with the person who could kill you?"

"You already have."

"It wasn't my choice."

"You didn't know whether you should have stayed on this side and when they found you, you chose to put that damned mark on your arm. You made a decision long ago. I'm just," you hold your breath, finding it hard to take a simple breath now. "Wondering what made you change?"

"Nothing," he mumbles.

"That's such a lie and you know it!"

His head snaps in your direction. "Everyone made me this way!"

You struggle to gulp down the saliva that filled your mouth.

"I was tired of being the joke of it all," he sniffs.

You don't know whether to feel bad for him or help him.

"I wanted the jokes to stop. I thought they would when we grew up, but they barely did."

"What jokes?" You whisper, now losing your voice.

"It doesn't matter now, what's done is done."

"Soon to be done. You're here to report to him that I'm dead, right?"

"N- no."

"You're distracting me, waiting until the end."

"Stop it."

"I hope you feel better."

"Better?"

"Thinking you chose the right side-" You take a step closer towards the table, your hand reaching out for it until you lose your balance and begin tumbling forward.

Peter reaches for you and holds you.

This is the last time he'll ever see you. And it hits him, what he's done to his friend.

There are no changing things now.

He adjusts you, cradling you in his arms as he sits behind you; the way a friend should comfort another one in need.

"Are you happy?"

He glances at you from the corner of his eye, staring at your side profile. "What?"

There's no more fight left in you and there's one thing you want someone to know, your last fighting words were something that will haunt your murderer. "Knowing you chose the wrong side."

"I-"

You close your eyes, not wanting your last sight to be of the secret you kept from your friends.

The grandfather clocks chimes once more and the whispers of his mind fill the silence.

Peter throws his head back, tears trickling down the sides of his face.

Nothing will ever be the same and no one will ever know what he's done.

Not until the end of the first war.

He carefully moves away from you and places you against the desk making it look as if you were sitting against the desk when you pass.

He kept it quiet of how you passed until the night he purposefully let Sirius take the blame for everything.

No one was able to truly move on after, most of all he and-

“She called herself the “life of the party” forever making a fool of herself,” he chuckles to himself.

"Pads, are you telling Harry the same story?"

The man in question turned around with his precious godson bundled in his arms. "No."

"Why lie when we all know it, Sirius?" Lily asks, holding her son's bottle as she tries to take the boy from him. "It's time for his bottle, Sirius."

"I can do it."

"No."

"Come on," he whines, with his bottom lip quivering.

It takes her back to every time when he would beg for your attention. She purses her lips, adjusting Harry in her arms. "It's almost nap time."

"Fine. James, sleep fort?"

"Of course, how else does one take a nap?"

She shakes her head at the two, knowing you would have something to say about it. "James."

"Coming, dear."

"I'll be here while you go help the man of the house."

"Hey."

Sirius raises his arms, "I'm kidding. I'm kidding."

He's left alone with his thoughts, something that's become more dangerous than before.

He thinks back to the story he was telling his godson, which was the night before your guys' seventh year when you decided to do some digging and found the bottle of fire whisky he had hidden, saving for a special occasion and ended up giving yourself a nickname.

You were so, so... drunk.

You smile and raise your hands, not at all careful to hide the bottle of fire whiskey. “It's time to be the life of the party.”

Everyone was confused as to why you did this, why you’d lost yourself.

"Someone needs to get her down from that table before she trips and breaks something," Lily hisses.

"We can use magic to heal her."

"Now is not the time to sass me, Sirius."

"Uh- nope, that one was me," Remus raises his hands.

"Someone please, help me get her down."

The three boys take a step forward at the same time.

"Come on, darling. It's time to come down."

You pout, holding the bottle close to your chest. "I don't wanna."

James snorts. "Can it, Prongs."

"I didn't say anything, Padfoot."

"Boys, please. Let's just get close to the table and then Pads can try and ease her down while we help?" The werewolf adds.

"Siri, come up and join me."

"Join you?"

"Become the life of the party with me."

“Sweetheart, I already am.” He holds his hand out for you to take. “Come and party with me down here.”

“No,” you tell him.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Prongs, Moony,” he jerks his head to the side. “Over here.”

They follow, leaving the red head to deal with you.

“Alright, boys. Moons, you grab the bottle while Prongs my boy,” he smacks the bespectacled boy’s shoulder. “You distract, pull her in with that odd charm that drew your rosy, red head in.”

“I feel like I should be offended.”

Sirius raises a brow, “are you?”

“No.”

“Then you’re fine. Ready boys. On three.”

“Please don’t try to use sports analogies,” Remus interrupts.

“Rude.”

“Hey,” James calls out for you. “Look at me.”

This gives Remus enough time to remove the bottle from your hands and for Sirius to pull you down.

“What made you want to get up on a table?” He asked, holding you in his arms.

“I wanted to get away.”

He glances up, knowing you probably don’t want the others to hear. “Get away from what?”

“The images in my mind.”

“Do you-”

“She needs to have something other than that damned whiskey in her system. Bring her over to the couch,” Lily tells him.

He never knew what you saw before that night and didn’t ask when you didn’t remember anything that happened.

This was one of the first few sights that haunted his mind, followed by his best friend and his wife a year after.

That’s why when he saw you for the first time, he was going through so many emotions.

His voice calling out to you wasn’t out of the norm but seeing him when you turned around after the light taps on your shoulder was certainly a surprise.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him. “Sirius?”

He throws himself forward, almost squeezing you with his might. “It’s been too long, darling.”

Your hands shake as you fist handfuls of his shirt tightly, wrinkling his shirt in the process. “I- you,” you push him back. “You shouldn’t be here. You- you- Sirius you can’t be here,” you whisper.

“You shouldn’t be either but here we are. Just focus on this.” He cups your cheek.

“What?”

His thumb brushes across your cheek. “We’re together again.”

“You should be out there, living your life and- and teaching Harry so much more.”

“I am right where I need to be.” He smiles at you, staring into your eyes. “I’m back with you.”

You gulp, “you’re still an idiot.”

“No, I’m Sirius.”

You shake your head and pull him in for another hug… until an echoing voice causes you to furrow your brows.

“Pads! Pads!”

“Oh no,” you mumble.

“What?”

“Pads turn your stupid head around.”

“Who’s calling me stupid?”

You’re happy you let go of him when you did otherwise, you’d be on the ground with the two idiots you find yourself lucky enough to call friends.

“I didn’t want to interrupt the two of you.”

“I know,” you assure Lily. “It’s okay. I’m just happy to see you guys again.”

She wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. “Me too.”

“Don’t forget about us,” Marlene calls out.

You two spin around, finding her and Dorcas running towards you guys.

“Took him long enough.”

“Marlene,” you hiss.

“What? I can’t pretend like you haven’t been depressed since that night. Everyone missed you and then when the first war came and we came here, you were so relieved that he wasn’t here but longing for him to come to you and you know it. You can’t hide it.”

You roll your eyes.

“So, you did miss me?” He says, staring up at you with a stargazed look in his eyes.

You turn away, avoiding his gaze. “No.”

“Someone’s lying, and it isn’t Sirius,” he says, attempting to egg you on.

“Come on, girls.”

“Wait- no.” He chases after you.

All of you stop, staring around the cemetery.

“What do we do now?”

“We wander around in true spirit fashion.”

“I vote we leave James behind,” you say, raising your hand.

“I second that vote,” Lily and Marlene add.

“Lily pad,” James gasps.

“Dorcas, come on. Don’t do this to me.”

“I’m with the side that doesn’t whine and complain.”

“But I’m nothing without whining and complaining. I was the only male here till Pads decided to join us.”

“I can see why they didn’t want you around.”

“Pads! I’m offended now!”

“Oh, well.” Sirius shrugs.

“You two haven’t changed a bit,” you comment. “It’s nice. I’ve missed seeing all of us being like this.”

“Like what?” Lily asks.

“Being young, not worried about a war coming our way.”

“I think we can all agree on that.”

“Did you all hear Moons has begun to pursue Tonks?” Sirius says.

“No."

"No way.”

You lead the others towards Diagon’s Alley, feeling a butter beer kind of night is something you all need.

“Don’t give her any fire whiskey. Otherwise, her “life of the party” personality will come out.” Marlene teases.

“That was one time,” you defend yourself.

“Lies,” Dorcas says, coughing into her hand.

“You all suck.” You pout.

Sirius leans in, “how’s it feel?”

“Don’t be like that, Sirius.”

“What? So, Sirius? I can’t, that’s who I am.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

You stare into his eyes. ‘I missed you more than anything, Siri.’

“I do.”

His smile widens, “I knew it.”

You close your eyes, wanting this to fill the blocks you made in your memory.

Everyone needs a little happy scene they can think back to.

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