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obsidiancreates · 4 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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taylorisbejeweled · 2 years

Text

Shawn Mendes Imagine : Baby Mendes

Warning: ⚠️smut⚠️

I was at the mall with my husband of one year Shawn Mendes. I wanted to buy some dresses for myself. We were at some shop I was looking through some dresses Shawn was beside me. Then the cutest little girl who had blue eyes and brown hair came and hugged Shawn's leg. Shawn got scared at first but then smiled at the little girl. "Hi there, what's your name?" Shawn asked politely. "Anna." She replied with a bright smile. She was so cute it melted my heart. Shawn picked her up and asked her where her parents were, she said she doesn't know. We got a little worried but decided to wait at this spot hoping her parents would also be there and would come and find her here . This shop was big. She was such a pretty girl. I took her from Shawn's arm and held her. She giggled and I smiled brightly at her. I pinched her cheek and she gave me the brightest smile ever. "You are vevy pwetty (very pretty) . " She said to me. I smiled and said thank you. She was so friendly. After a few minutes her parents found her. They both were relieved and thanked us both before leaving, before Anna left, she waved us goodbye and we both waved at her too. After that we continued our shopping and we kept smiling like idiots the whole time. We got home and put the bags in our room. I decided to change into some comfy clothes and wore a shirt and shorts. Then I cuddled with Shawn at our sofa. "That girl was adorable." Shawn said softly. "I know, she was also so nice too." I said. When Shawn was holding that little girl, I imagined Shawn being a father and holding our little girl. It made me smile. "You know holding that little girl made me think about being a father. Having a baby, caring for them, loving them." Shawn said. I kept listening and he kept going. "All these things also make me want to be a father." Shawn said. I froze. I looked at him with wide eyes. He said : "I want to have a baby with you Y/N. I want a mini me or you running around the house, playing with toys. I really want this. And I want this with no one except you Y/N." He told me. I kept staring at him with wide eyes then replied: " Shawn, I would love to have a baby with you. I would love to be the mother of your child." We smiled at eachother. "So! Do you wanna make a baby then"? He said smirking. "Right now?" I said. He nodded, I said ok. Then he moved a little and started to kiss me passionately, then he moved his lips to my neck. Then he started to take off my shirt, I was not wearing underwear. He smiled when he saw my boobs and started kissing them. Then he started to take of my pants. I was so wet. I wanted him, I wanted him so badly. He then took me upstairs to our bedroom and then he layed me down on the bed. He took off all of his clothes. Now, I could see his dick. It was so hard. He then moved towards me. And inserted his dick inside me and started moving. It felt so good. I moaned. ''Shawn, you feel so good baby." I moaned. "Gonna carry my baby huh? Gonna make me a dad huh?" He said. "Yes baby." I said. "Shawn go faster." I said. He went faster. At this point I was screaming. "I love you Shawn." I moaned. "I love you too Y/N." Soon we both came. After that he kissed my forehead and then we both went to sleep.

1 Month Later:

I woke up at 11am today. Shawn was not in the bed. I turned around to get my phone from the bedside table, but I saw a paper. I started to read what was written on it:

Dear Y/N,

Really sorry I could not spend the day with you. I had to go to the studio, I will see you at 7. I made breakfast for you, enjoy! :)

I got up from the bed and was putting my slippers on when suddenly I felt nauseous. I rushed to the bathroom and puked. I didn't know why this happened. Was it because I had eaten something bad? Or was it because I was sick? I did not feel sick though. I then cleaned up and went downstairs for breakfast. I ate and then decided to watch a movie. I went out with my friend for lunch, but when the food arrived I felt nauseous and went to the bathroom to puke again. I could not eat the food so I just left. Why was this happening to me? Then I suddenly remembered, Me and Shawn had sex without a condom like some weeks ago. So, I might be pregnant. Before I got Into my car to go home, I got a pregnancy test from some store and then went home. When I got home, I went to the bathroom and quickly peed on the stick and waited five minutes. I was hoping I was pregnant. Then, I went inside and I checked. My eyes widened and I smiled brightly. I AM PREGNANT. I also cried tears of joy and then I washed my hands and left the bathroom. I can't wait to tell Shawn tonight. I was preparing dinner. Thank god I didn't feel nauseuous this time. I wondered how I would tell him I was pregnant. He wasn't home yet. Then I had the perfect idea. Shawn arrived home soon and kissed me. He then went to the room to take a bath. After his bath. We both had dinner. I brought a bottle of wine to the dinner table and a glass along with it. I served him some wine. He asked me why am I not drinking. I said: " Well, hmmm I don't know. I can't have any." He was confused. "W-why not?" He asked. "Ummmm." I said. I did not want to tell him. I wanted him to guess by himself. After a few seconds he realised it. "Omg Y/N! You're pregnant?" He asked, I nodded. I smiled he hugged me tightly and kissed me on the lips. Then he kissed me on both cheeks and then he kissed my forehead. "I'm going to be a dad!" He yelled again. He then lifted my shirt up a little and kissed my stomach, he said: "Hi there, little one. I am your daddy. I love you so much, I cannot wait to meet you." We both were so happy.

8 Months Later

I am at the hospital right now with Shawn about to give birth to our beautiful baby. I was so scared about giving birth, Shawn started to comfort me and tell me everything was going to be fine, then he kissed my forehead. After some minutes the doctor told me that I am ready to push. It was hard, really hard but luckily my lovely husband Shawn was there with me. He was holding my hand tightly. "Come on Y/N! You can do it! Keep pushing!" Shawn said. I tried my best and kept pushing. Finally, I heard cries of a newborn and I was relieved. I got teary eyed because my baby was finally here. "It's a boy! " the doctor said. "Y/N, you did this. I'm so proud of you baby." Shawn told me. Then he kissed me and went to hold the baby. The nurse placed the baby in Shawn's arm. He was so tiny compared to Shawn. "Hi buddy! I'm your daddy, I love you so much we're gonna have so much fun." Shawn told the baby. Then he gave the baby to me. He was so cute. I kissed his cheek. "Mommy, loves you." I told him softly. We decided to name him Jack. "He has your eyes." Shawn said. "Well, he has his dad's nose and lips." I said. He had a little bit of hair. He had Shawn's chocolatey brown hair. Shawn took him from me and smiled. "We made that Y/N." He said and then smiled at me. "Yeah, we did." I said.

I was so happy I finally had a baby with the love of my life. I knew Shawn was going to be an amazing dad because he was a kind, smart and loving person.

Hey Guys! Hope you enjoyed reading this. Sorry for posting after a long time. I will try writing more. Next Imagine coming on Wednesday :))

#shawn mendes smut #smutty #baby #babies #kids #shawn fanfic #shawnsmut #shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #hotshawn #toddler #cuteness #cutebaby #imagines #imagine #fanfiction

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evermoresversion · 10 months

Text

𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏'𝒔 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

𝗠𝘆 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱'𝘀 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘁𝘆 𝗰𝗼𝗼𝗹, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒆.

Welcome to my masterlist, where you can easily navigate through my entire blog.

RULES FOR REQUESTING.

PETER PARKER.

JASON TODD.

JJ MAYBANK.

NICK LEISTER. (I no longer write for him)

RAFE CAMERON.

CONRAD FISHER.

BRIAN O'CONNER.

JEREMIAH FISHER.

STEVEN CONKLIN.

SHAWN MENDES.

CHRISTOPHER VELEZ.

ZACH MACLAREN.

CORIOLANUS SNOW.

ELISA DE ALMEIDA.

JUDE BELLINGHAM.

You can make your requests right here or on the question box.

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thespiritssaidso · 3 months

Text

Him? Really?

Juliet was filling out paperwork from their last case when Shawn had grabbed her and lead her to the conference room, which was conveniently empty. Before she could get a word in, Shawn blurted out “I need to confess something.”

Still a little perturbed, but also curious, she asked “Okay? What is it?”

“Well. I’m kind of, for lack of a better word, crushing on someone here-”

Any anger she might have had leftover immediately melted away. “Oh my gosh, Shawn that’s great! Who is it?”

He winces a little and says “-You’re really not gonna like who I say.”

“Oh, I’m sure it can’t be that bad.”

“I don’t know Jules…”

“It’s okay. Just- just rip it off. Like a bandaid.”

“Alright then.” He takes a deep breath. “It’s Lassie.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then-

“Put the bandaid back on.”

“Jules, what the heck?!”

“I’m sorry, that was completely uncalled for-”

“Yeah! It kind of was!”

“But… Carlton?”

“Yes, ‘Carlton’. Who else?”

“I don’t know. Literally anyone?”

“Oh my god.” He collapsed into one of the chairs, letting his head fall into his hands.

“What’s going on?”

They both startle, looking at the door of the conference room, which was now blocked by the head detective himself.

Juliet stumbled for an excuse. “Carlton! We were- Uhhmm- well- we were just- just talking aboutttt-”

“About…?”

“-abouttt that new taco place that just opened up!” Shawn helped.

She nodded a little too enthusiastically. “Yeah! Yes! We were planning on going there later.”

Lassiter raised an eyebrow, not looking thoroughly convinced.

“Well, I gotta, uhh, head out, Gus just called and there’s a client that needs… spiritual… help… Bye.” Shawn lightly pushed past Lassiter and quickly headed out.

He looked at Juliet, still confused, and asked “What was that all about?”

She tried — and only moderately failed — to act casual. “Oh, just Shawn being Shawn, I guess.”

—————————

Based on this prompt from @aut189

#I haven’t written anything in a while #but this was fun #I actually feel proud of myself for this one #shawn spencer #carlton lassiter #juliet o'hara #shassie #🔮🔫#psych #psych 2006 #psych usa #psych tv #psych tv show #psych show #psych fanfic #psych fanfiction #psych fic #toast tries to write #I wrote this with ‘More Than a Feeling’ by Boston stuck in my head

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bl00dfroma-fairy · 1 month

Text

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jimsbeetroot · 2 months

Note

I don't think your still active but if you do decide to start writing on this blog again I have a request :)

Joey Jordison x plus-sized reader smut :3

Reader is feeling insecure of their body and Joey shows them just how beautiful he thinks they are<3

𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 ♱ 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐲 𝐣𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧

i love this request! hope you will enjoy what I've tried to come up with!

words; 1.826

smut!

--------

You sat huddled together on your bedroom floor, mirror in front of you, sobbing silently at the sight before you.

Your insecurities stood out to you like a neon sign in the dark. For two hours, you'd sat in front of that mirror. You'd torn every little flaw apart as if you were on a mission to stomp yourself into a depression. You didn't do it on purpose. It was an unintentional ritual that had become a bad habit over the last months.

You'd avoided mirrors because there was always something for you to comment on. You were, quite literally, your own biggest hater. There hadn't been much reaction from the press, but whenever you saw magazine covers of you and Joey, you felt a bit nauseous. You hated the way you towered over him. Not only were you taller than Joey, but you were quite a bit wider than him.

Joey had never cared. He found you beautiful, and he always reminded you of that. He loved your body, but no matter how many times he told you, it was never enough.

It had gotten so bad that you'd quit enjoying having sex with Joey. Not because of him, because he was great, but it was bad enough being naked in your own company, but in front of him- you felt embarrassed.

That added another layer of shame to your already existing ones.

What if he thought you hated him? He must've realised something was up.

Just as you had grabbed a flap of fat from your belly, pulling it out and shuddering at the sight of the stretch marks on your thighs, you heard the door open.

Joey had been at rehearsals all day and had returned. You found yourself rushing around the bedroom, throwing on some clothes to wear before Joey reached the bedroom.

You wiped your eyes from any tears and looked in the mirror. Your eyes were bloodshot. Joey would spot that in a heartbeat.

"Hey, babe! I'm back!" Joey yelled out from downstairs.

You didn't respond, too busy throwing some powder in your face to conceal your red-flushed nose- and cheeks.

"Babe?" Joey yelled out as he walked up the stairs. "I-I'm in the bedroom!" You responded, taking a deep breath and posed in the most natural position, destined to hide your whole shebang-show from him. He wouldn't understand.

Joey opened the door and smiled when his eyes met yours. "Hey babe," he grinned, approaching you as you sat on the bed but stopped when he sensed something was off.

He looked around, quickly pointing out the only thing you hadn't thought of: the mirror.

You'd taken the bathroom mirror and placed it on the bedroom floor. "Redecorating in here?" Joey grinned and kissed your lips, hand on your cheek, his fingers grazing your earlobe slightly.

"Yeah," you laughed, but it came out terribly. Joey jerked his head back, staring into your soul as if he was scanning you. He narrowed his eyes slightly. "Have you been crying?" He asked.

The question provoked a slight lip quiver, but you held it all in, shaking your head and smiling. "No," you said and grabbed his hand. "How was rehearsal? Did you play any of the new so-"

"You're lying to me."

Joey cut you off, and you huffed in response.

He could see right through you. And you were a terrible liar.

"I'm not lying," you scoffed, releasing Joey's hand.

"I'm not dumb, Y/N. Don't think I haven't noticed your behaviour lately," Joey stated. You stared, not in the mood to have the lengthy conversation with Joey in which you explained all of your insecurities, and he denied them.

"I've just been on my period," you shrugged. Joey tilted his head and shook it slightly. "I didn't know you could have your period for three weeks straight. Maybe you should see a doctor about that," Joey suggested sarcastically.

Perhaps you'd used that excuse one too many times lately.

"Listen, don't treat me like I'm dumb. We haven't had sex for over a month," Joey mentioned.

That was the least of your concerns at that moment.

"That's all you care about?"

Don't know why you said that, though.

"Of course, it's not, Y/N. I care that you haven't told me what's going on when something is," Joey pointed out and removed his leather jacket. He sat down next to you and grabbed your hand, rubbing it softly.

"What's going on?" He asked.

You lifted your head and looked at Joey with a defeated face.

"I can't stand the way I look, Joey. I mean, I'm so much bigger than you, and I've tried to lose the weight, but I keep failing."

You fumbled with your thumbs as a tear rolled down your cheek.

"Look at me," Joey said and lifted your face, your eyes meeting his.

"You're more than I could ever wish for. You've given me so much, Y/N. I wish you could see what I see. What everyone sees."

Joey wiped a tear away from your cheek and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, hugging you tightly into his side.

"Why can't you see how beautiful you are?" Joey hummed into your neck, kissing it softly.

You closed your eyes, forgetting your troubles for now as Joey drew circles on your back, your body falling into a relaxed state.

"Why can't you see how amazing you are?" Joey asked, placing another kiss on your neck. You turned your body towards him, slightly humming as Joey massaged your hair, kissing your lips.

"Why can't you see how much I fucking love you?" Joey asked against your lips, leaning in for another kiss. He didn't hold back this time, and you didn't mind.

Your hands fumbled his black locks as you both leaned back in the bed in unison, lips still attached.

Joey's hand went underneath your shirt and groped your breast, a small moan escaping your lips.

Detaching his lips from yours, Joey made his way to your neck, leaving marks as he trailed down to your buttoned jeans.

You looked down at him, propped on your elbows and watched as he unbuttoned your jeans, eyes staring hungrily into yours.

He pulled off the jeans and kissed your inner thigh, leaving small spots of saliva on his way to your soaked cunt.

Your breathing got heavier, and your heart pace quickened as Joey rubbed your panty-covered cunt. The wetness had soaked through the cotton fabric, leaving a big wet spot in your grey underwear.

You moaned hoarsely and shivered with excitement when Joey slid your panties off, throwing them somewhere in the room.

He blew softly on your sensitive cunt and smirked when you shivered at the sensation.

A yelp left your mouth when he slid his index finger into you, the unexpected penetration startling you, but your eyes rolled to the back of your head when Joey's tongue made contact with your clit.

Your fists curled, and Joey had a tight hold on your thighs, keeping your legs open as you wiggled around in the bed, trying to endure the pleasure.

You weren't sure how to act. After all, it had been a while since you'd felt this good. Joey was enjoying the sight of you as you squirmed around the bed, mouth open and eyes closed, moaning loudly and freely.

"You're so beautiful, babe," Joey whispered against your cunt as he continued to run his tongue in a circular motion, focusing on overwhelming your clit as much as possible while at the same time adding another finger.

You shrieked as Joey drilled his fingers into you, quietly begging for him, his name flying from your mouth repeatedly.

"Fuck, Joey," you managed to choke out. "I'm coming," you whimpered, grabbing a hold of his hair, and preparing yourself for your climax.

"Cum for me, baby," Joey whispered and sped up his movements.

Shrieking and quivering, you released a cry of pleasure as it washed over you, leaving you shaking. Your back was arched, your whole body fully tensed.

You took a few deep breaths trying to collect yourself after your high.

"Fuck, you're beautiful."

Joey travelled from your cunt, up to your lips, where he placed a passionate kiss, your juices still on his lips.

Your hand travelled down to his pants, straddling his hard cock over his jeans.

Joey moaned but removed your hand. "Let me, please. You deserve to know," he hummed and grabbed the hem of your T-shirt, swiftly pulling the fabric over your head, leaving you fully exposed.

Your hands went to cover your bare upper body, but only a short moment went by before Joey removed them, holding them above your head. "Don't you dare," he whispered and kissed your lips. The kiss was short as Joey raced up and removed his black jeans and a black T-shirt.

He leaned over you again, attaching his lips to yours once again, his naked body propped on top of yours as he positioned his cock at your entrance.

He propped his elbows on either side of your face, kissing your forehead softly and smiling down at you before pushing himself fully into your cunt, releasing a loud moan as fully penetrated you.

"F-Fuck!" Joey hissed and threw his head back, his thrusts growing faster and more energetic.

Your eyes were closed, legs tightly wrapped around Joey's torso as your nails left marks on his back.

Joey had the stamina of a racehorse, not once slowing down his thrusts. Your thoughts weren't quite clear, but you found yourself wondering; how one earth could he keep going?

A single tear escaped from the corner of your eye, your hands clasping at Joey's shoulders.

"Look at me," Joey whispered into your ear, hands resting on the top of your head, allowing him to thrust as deeply as possible.

You could barely hear him, too busy enjoying the sensation of his cock plunging into you.

"Y/N, look at me," he whispered again, his voice making you tremble even stronger. You were close to reaching a second high, and so was Joey.

You opened your eyes and looked into his blue eyes. Your eyebrows furrowed and your mouth opened, lips brushing his as you moaned into his eyes.

"I-I'm gonna come ag-" you tried to blur out, your sentence interrupted once again by a wave of pleasure. You cried out and hid your face in the crook of his neck as he did the same, holding you as close as possible, letting you enjoy your climax. He followed closely after you, as the sensation of your cunt closing around his member pushed him over the edge.

He groaned into your ear, delievering a few final powerful, deep thrusts before releasing a final groan, falling into your embrace.

Your arms curled around him, and you held him in your arms.

You felt loved, and you felt beautiful.

Joey made you feel those things.

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take-taker-taken · 7 months

Note

ShawnXreader? Bratty reader getting a spanking from HBK?

Thank you, lovely Anon! Hope this hits the spot…

“Honey, I’m home!”

You grin at the sound of his voice as the front door opens and then you curse quietly as you realise the half-full takeout cup is still perched on the table. You leap up and grab it, swiftly tucking it away behind the couch. You’ve already had your quota of iced coffee ‘concoctions’ (as Shawn calls them), for the week and so you’ll be in trouble if he sees it.

You turn around with a smile and he drops his bag to the floor and opens his arms. With a happy giggle you leap into them and he kisses you, spins you around and sets you back on the floor before pulling you in for a deeper kiss. You close your eyes and drift into it when he suddenly stops and leans back, looking at you closely.

“What?” You pout at the abrupt end to the kiss but he just continues to stare, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Where is it?” He says, casting suspicious glances around the room and then turning back to you after noticing the ring of condensation on the table.

You feel yourself blush but try to appear nonchalant, saying with a frown, “Where is what?”

He gives you a warning look. “Baby girl, I can see the chocolate in the corners of your mouth and I can taste the coffee. Where is it - or did you finish it already?”

You roll your eyes and say huffily, “It’s only a drink.”

He gives his head a small shake and his tone is measured as he replies, “We’ve talked about this, remember, and you agreed that you were having too many of those things. You asked me to set a limit on how many you should have and so-”

“I wanted one!” You practically stamp your foot and your voice raises as you interrupt him.

All Shawn raises is his eyebrow. “Did you forget who you’re talking to? Sounds like you need a time-out, little girl; go stand in the corner.”

Folding your arms tightly and pouting, you go to push past him but he stops you with a hand on your shoulder. “After you answer my question and tell me where it is.”

“Find it yourself,” you mutter, shrugging his hand off.

“Yeah, keep it up, brat. You’ve just upgraded from a time-out to a spanking.”

You’re annoyed at yourself for letting him down and for being caught out, but you know that now he’s said you’re getting a spanking there’s no way back from it, so it’s time for damage limitation. “It’s behind the couch,” you say quietly, head down.

“Go get it.”

Dragging your feet slightly you go and retrieve the cup, before turning back around to face him and he inclines his head towards the door.

“Into the kitchen and get rid of it.”

With a small sigh you do as you’re told, carrying it through to the kitchen where you remove the lid and pour the liquid down the drain. You don’t care - it no longer seems as appealing as it did before. You rinse out the cup too, and you’re about to dry it a little when his voice floats through to you.

“It doesn’t take that long - get your butt back in here!”

You return to the living room and he’s sat on the couch, waiting. You pause in the doorway and then he beckons to you.

“Over my knee. Now. You know what happens to little brats who don’t follow the rules.”

You swallow and make your way over before slowly getting into position with your hips in his lap. He shifts you about a little and pulls your sweats and underwear down to your knees before guiding your arms out in front of you.

“You gonna keep those there, or do I need to hold on to your hands?”

“Keep ‘em,” You answer quietly and he strokes a hand down your back. The comfort is only momentary because in the next second his hand lands hard on your butt and you gasp with a mixture of shock and pain. He alternates between each cheek, delivering three more hard smacks and you whimper and clench your hands into fists.

“You know why you’re being punished, don’t you?” His free hand presses firmly into the middle of your back as he deals another half dozen blows.

“Uh huh - yes!” You correct yourself, knowing that you’re supposed to use your words.

He pauses the spanking for a moment and squeezes your cheeks. “Tell me,” He says quietly.

“I - I broke the rule about how many coffees I can have,” You say and then cry out as a fresh volley of hits lands on your skin.

“And…?”

You close your eyes briefly, feeling ashamed. “I - I lied to you about having it.”

“What else?” You don’t answer right away and so he unleashes again with a series of hard smacks that alternate on your cheeks, ending up with a couple of hits to your tender sit spot.

“I was rude! I’m sorry!” You kick your feet but to no avail as he just shifts to clamp one of your legs beneath his own.

“Quit struggling.” His tone is impassive and he reaches across to pinion your wrists without missing a beat before you have the chance to try and reach back to cover yourself. “You earned this baby girl, and you’re gonna take it.”

The only sounds for the next minute or so are the slap of palm against skin and you yelp and wriggle as he lands hard slaps to your bottom and thighs. Tears leak out, a mixture of pain and regret, as you twist your hands together within his grasp. Stupid coffee with it’s syrup and stupid chocolate cream…

“I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, I promise, please!” You cry out as the blows rain down, seemingly getting harder. How can his hands be so soft and yet so hard at the same time?

“Yeah, I bet.” He lands four more hard slaps, and the final one ends with his hand impacting and then rubbing firmly against your burning flesh. You wriggle forward as though trying to escape and then give in to the treatment, as however sore it is, the gesture signals the end of your ordeal.

“You gonna stick to our rules in future, baby girl?” He squeezes the flesh hard and you whimper, kicking your feet again.

“I promise!”

“Alright then,” He answers and releases you from his grip, helping you to your feet. “Into the corner now - five minutes.”

Normally you would pout and argue about corner time, but you’re fairly sure that your ass is a beacon and so without protest you allow him to set you upright and shuffle you to the corner.

“Hands on your head, baby girl. You have a little think there about our rules.”

Backside throbbing, you do as he says, amazed that your butt seems to have developed its own heartbeat.You know of course that you were wrong to break his rule, and even more so to lie about it. You sniff, feeling sorry for yourself and settle in for the wait…

~*~

“OK, we’re all done, baby girl. Out you come. Come on and give me a hug.”

You turn eagerly and throw yourself into his waiting arms, happily inhaling the scent of his skin. “‘M sorry,” You answer truthfully, “I won’t do it again.”

“Sure hope not,” He says, giving you a squeeze. “Much more fun things to do than punish you…”

You look up at him shyly. “Show me?”

…

TTT

#wwe #wwf #shawn michaels #shawn michaels x reader #shawn michaels smut #shawn michaels fanfic #anon asks #thank you lovely anon #TTT Tumblr Asks

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bartxnhood · 10 months

Text

lost in reality | s.h

shawn hunter x fem!reader

summary: lost in his cloud of doubt, shawn thinks you don’t like him. however, when you come to his doorstep one night changes everything.

warnings: none, this one is just pretty short and not that well written lol

requests open

not proofread

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

“she likes you man, it’s so obvious!” cory is watching his best friend, shawn, pace around the living room. “you’ve seen the way she’s with eric! there’s no way she likes me.”

shawn remembers you interacting with eric. he feels his chest swell with jealousy, the way you touched his arm while you laughed, or the way you pushed your hair away from your face.

he was so frustrated with his own emotions. shawn had loved you for years, he was so madly in love with you that it hurt him.

“think about it” cory starts, pushing himself off the island and walking over to his friend. “she always gets shy around you, she can’t look at you more than a few seconds, or else she starts blushing like…” he tried thinking of a comparison. “well i.. i don’t know what but still!”

shawn finally stopped pacing to look at cory, trying to think back to all the times you had done this. but, still, he wasn’t convinced. “i don’t know man..”

“i’ve been seeing angela, she’s really cool and i like her but..” shawn shrugs, “she isn’t y/n.” cory sighs, crossing his arms. “well at least you could talk to her. figure out what’s going on.”

the following week you spot shawn at the cafeteria and you planned on stopping him in hopes to talk with him. “shawn!” you wave your hand and he walks over. “what’s up?” he offers a smile, standing above you. “i was just wondering if you had time to talk for a sec?” he nodded, “of course, what’s up?”

“well.. you start, it’s kinda about us..” you were about to continue when angela walks up, lacing her arm around his. “shawn!” she grins, “we still good for our date this weekend?” she asks, he smiles fondly and nods, “yeah, of course!” angela grins and kisses his cheek softly before walking away.

shawn turns back to you, his eyebrows raise, “what’s up?” you feel a knot in your stomach and shake your head gathering your things. “nothing.. not important. i’ll see you later.” you say, and stand up and walk away, leaving shawn puzzled.

you’re sat on topangas bed, rambling about how frustrated you are with his shawn had been acting as of late. “it’s killing me!l you plop back onto your back with a loud sigh.

“it’s like..he doesn’t even notice me..” you’re visibly upset and topanga doesn’t know how to comfort you. “maybe he’s just going through something.” she says and you disagree. “no..i know when somethings wrong. i’m his best friend, i know him. but lately, he’s been so different.”

you both fall silent, you’re stuck thinking about how you could fix them. “i have to see him” you say, abruptly getting up from topangas bed and reaching for your jacket, “y/n! it’s pouring out there!” she tries stopping you, concerned for your wellbeing. “topanga, i have to tell him. i can’t just stand by watching him fall in love with someone else.” you turn to your best friend, tears brimming in your eyes. topanga understands, knowing if it was cory she’d be running out in the rain like that.

“please, just be safe.” she nods, giving you a look of sympathy.

“y/n? you okay?! it’s pouring!” shawn opens the door and drags you inside from the rain.

“i love you.” you blurted, fidgeting with your hands. “oh..oh my god..that just…” your hands are shaking and your chest is tight while looking at shawn. “i love you,” you repeat and watch as shawn stands up from the stool and you see the confusion on his face.

“im so in love with you. it’s like i can’t stop thinking about you. you’re like..in me..” you laugh, trying to hold back your tears. “like you’re some kind of disease. i can’t think of anything except you.” now you’re tearing up. “i…i can’t sleep, i can’t eat…” you pause, “i can’t breathe..” your voice is breaking, and you feel the tears on your cheeks. “i just love you all the time… i love you, shawn”

this had been building up in you for so long, and you had to get it out and it felt so much better to just say it.

“you don’t have to say anything or love me back. i just needed to tell you..” you wipe away the tears from your cheeks and start to turn around but shawn grabs your arm, spinning you around to face him.

his touch is so soft against your skin, the way his thumb caressed your cheek made you melt. his eyes were soft, “y/n..” he starts, his voice is soft like honey. you could listen to him speak for hours, his voice could lull you to sleep. “i love you too. i have loved you for years. all i can ever think about is you and how badly my heart aches for you.” he smiles, tears begin welling in his eyes. "this-" he points at his chest "—this belongs to you. always."

you replay his confession over and over, feeling your heart swell with love. shawn is resting on your chest while some random movie is playing on the tv. it was something he had gotten from the movie store. you had thought he had fallen asleep long ago but when he spoke it startled you.

“why do you love me?”

you blink a few times, wondering where this came from. “what?” he sets up, “why do you love me? i..i have nothing to offer you, y/n. i..i don’t have a fancy house or..or anything. why?”

you look at him, mind racing as you try to collect the right words, “i love you because you care, you’re funny, you take time to learn about people, and even though you may get on my nerves” you pause and laugh, your hand rests on his cheek. the pad of your thumb rubs against his cheekbone.

“i love you. i’ve loved you for so long, shawn.” you smile and watched as shawn pulls you into his arms, letting you rest against him. “god, i love you too. y/n.”

#shawn hunter #shawn hunter x reader #shawn hunter x you #shawn hunter x y/n #shawn hunter fanfic #shawn hunter imagine #shawn hunter boy meets world #bmw fanfic

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cashmeremars · 10 months

Text

𝐚 𝐜𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞... 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 || 𝐬.𝐦

pairing: shawn mendes x reader

summary: shawn stumbles upon a coffee shop while on tour and becomes infatuated with the waitress

word count: 1.7k+

a/n: this has been in my drafts for so long... but i promise you’re in for a surprise...

The heat of Amsterdam was relentless as Shawn continued to roam the unfamiliar streets of the city. Crossing bridges and tripping over loose rubble, Shawn sighed as his eyes scanned the stores lining the streets, hoping to find a place to settle down before heading back to his tour bus. He watched as a bicycle rider rode past him before slowing down and stopping at what seemed to be a cafe. He adjusted his jacket before reaching for his phone and checking the time. He had around 2 hours before he was expected to be back on the tour bus. Shawn smiled to himself as he followed the path the bicycle rider had just taken to get to the cafe down the street.

As Shawn approached the front door of the cafe, he snapped a quick picture of the shop name just in case he needed to send his location to his manager. A mellow bell rang throughout the cafe as he pushed the door open. The smell of cinnamon and warm coffee danced through the air as he inhaled. The cafe was quaint, with landscape paintings lining the walls. Jazz music whispered under the sound of clanking dishes.

Shawn sighed as he sat himself down at a booth nearest to the corner of the cafe, to ensure that no potential fans could spot him. The cafe was quite empty, as it was 2 pm on a weekday. A stained menu on the side of the table caught his eye. He reached over with a sigh, grabbing the corners of the menu to avoid touching the brown stains. A frown etched itself on his forehead as he flipped through the menu, the words splattering the page were close enough to English to follow along, but not enough to fully comprehend. Dutch, Shawn whispered to himself. He was in Amsterdam after all.

Shawn dropped the menu, opting to fiddle with the slightly tattered fabric of the booth, watching silhouettes walk past the cafe window. He closed his eyes, bopping his head along to the music flooding the cafe.

“Are you new here?” A voice intruded Shawn’s entrancement.

“Uh, yeah,” Shawn spoke. He felt his breath constrict as he made eye contact with you. He’d truly never seen anyone as beautiful. “How could you tell?” Shawn spoke with a soft smile. He felt his heartbeat begin to pick up.

“I’ve never seen you around here before, and you also looked a little clueless,” You point out with a laugh.

“Oh, uh, sorry. I’m just here on tour. I’m a singer,” Shawn explains.

“That’s cool,” you reply, raising your eyebrows.

“Yeah. Grammy-nominated,” Shawn stammered. You nod, and his face flushed as he acknowledged his failed attempt at boasting.

“Right,” you smile before pulling out a notepad and pen from your waist apron, “So, what would you like to order?” you say after a beat of silence.

“Right. Right, of course.” Shawn stammered, “I don’t really know what’s good here, and I can’t really read the menu,” He says, scratching the back of his neck.

“Ahh. I’m assuming you want me to tell you?” you question.

“If that’s what you want, then sure. Tell me what’s good here.” Shawn spoke as he leaned forward on the table, leaning his head on his hand. He watched as you twirled the pen between your fingers. You were mesmerizing to him. You had an aura that was carefree yet so captivating.

“What do you like?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow.

“Something sweet,” Shawn spoke, “like you,” he continued with a speck of confidence.

“Oh. I see.” You hesitate to laugh.

“Sorry, was that a bit much?” He asked as his confidence crumbled.

“Yeah, it was a little cheesy,” You reply, tapping the notepad with your pen.

“Right.” Shawn’s could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks.

“You still want something sweet?” You asked. He perked up as he sensed remnants of a flirty subtext. “On the menu, I mean.” You clarify, now just as flustered as Shawn was just a moment ago.

“Yeah for sure. Maybe a brownie?” he fumbled with the menu once more, hoping that he’d ordered something that was an actual option.

“Anything else?” You ask keeping your eyes on the notepad as you scribble Shawn’s order.

“A cup of coffee,” Shawn took a deep breath in, “And your number?” he exhaled, squinting slightly to gauge your reaction. Your pen halts as your eyes pan to his.

“Uh, coming right up.” You tilt your head before making your way back to the counter.

Shawn sighed deeply once you were out of sight. He hadn’t realized that he wasn’t breathing properly until you’d left, leaving him to stew in his own embarrassment. He’d never behaved so awkwardly in his life, and yet you didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. He could’ve chalked it up to your food service hospitality, but he sensed a glint of something unfamiliar in your eyes. She was charmed, he thought to himself.

***

“Your order, sir.” You carefully place the coffee in front of Shawn before positioning the brownie a bit off to the side. The smell of fresh cocoa from the brownie melted his senses as he eyed the careful foam art floating on top of his coffee. He’d definitely have to visit again.

“Shawn,” he said, “Mendes. Shawn Mendes.” He continued, placing his hand on his chest briefly. He watched her carefully in hopes that she’d recognized his name.

“Already skipping the formalities?” You say as you wipe your hands on your apron.

“Sure are.” He replies, “You don’t have a name tag?” He asked, eyeing the spot on your shirt where your name tag should be.

“Yeah,” You took a quick look down at your uniform and shrugged, “It keeps me mysterious,” You continued.

“Mysterious. That’s cool.” Shawn nods once, pursing his lips.

“Very,” you reply, glancing around the cafe briefly.

“Do I get to know your name?” Shawn said as you began to walk away.

“But then what would happen to the mystery?” You quipped before disappearing behind the counter once again.

The soft music tangled with the saccharine aroma of the coffee. He closed his eyes, as he revelled in the serene atmosphere of the empty cafe. There were no fans to bombard him, and no cameras to observe him. Nobody to perform for, or to pretend for. Just him, a cup of coffee, a brownie, and a girl who made his heart spring.

Shawn scrolled through his phone as he gradually made his way through the honeyed meal. He watched his DMs flood full of Instagram models and influencers, but none of them compared to the waitress whose name he didn’t even know.

“Here’s your bill, Shawn.” You lay the piece of paper in front of Shawn’s empty cup, and crumb-filled plate.

“Thank you.” He looks up with a smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes, “So, when can I get your number?” He asks.

“It’ll be a surprise.” you shrug.

“So, are you always working here?” Shawn asks as you’re about to walk away once again.

“I work on weekends if that’s what you’re asking” you reply, “Is there a reason why you need to know, Shawn?” you asked.

“Well, I’m only here this week for my concert, so-”

“You’re gonna try to woo me over during the short period of time you’re here?” You squint your eyes at him.

“Precisely,” He quipped.

“Well, you’re very persistent, Shawn.”

“I usually am.” Shawn knew that wasn’t true. Truthfully, he was always nervous whenever he had to speak to a girl he was fond of. He was already quite introverted as is, and speaking to you made him feel like he had frogs in his throat.

“Charming. Well, we’ll see how your quest goes,” you laugh.

“When do you get off work?” he asked.

“Later tonight,” you said.

“Then, I’ll be waiting right here.” Shawn folds his hands together, placing them on the table.

“Of course, you will, Prince Charming,” you raise your eyebrows in amusement as you lean over to collect the empty cup and plate.

“Does that make you my Cinderella?” he asked.

“I see the wooing has begun. Too bad I have to get back to my shift,” you turn, leaving him with the bill.

Shawn grabbed his wallet from his back pocket, paying for the bill before texting his manager that he might be back a little later than expected.

“Excuse me? Are you Shawn?” A man with bulky glasses and a thick accent approached the table with a stone-cold expression.

“Yes, I am.” Shawn’s back straightened instinctively as he felt himself start to tense.

“Well, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” He gestures to the door and sends a single nod of his head in Shawn’s direction.

“Pardon?” Shawn locks his phone, placing it on the table.

“Well, it seems that your excessive flirting with one of our employees has made her quite uncomfortable, to say the least,” The man explains. Shawn looks down and notices the similarities between the man uniform and the waitress’s uniform. He also notices the name tag sitting neatly on the man’s black shirt.

“What?” Shawn’s eyebrows furrow together. He was hoping that he’d misheard due to the man’s accent.

“You asked for her number, what days she worked, what time she gets off, and then said that you would stay until she was done working. I mean, that’s a bit much don’t you think, sir?” The man folded his arms as his face remained stoic.

“I was just trying to-” Shawn hesitates to explain. He knew that he was awkward and nervous at times, but he didn’t expect that he could misread a situation so incorrectly.

“It doesn’t matter what you were trying to do. It very clearly did not work,” The man said. His gaze bores into Shawn’s. The longer the man stared, the more Shawn felt his own composure falter. “Will you be leaving?” The man asked. Shawn snaps out of his fear-induced trance, scrambling for his phone as he shoves his wallet into his back pocket.

“Oh, sorry. Yeah, I’ll get going. Tell her I’m sorry about all of that.” Shawn’s hands flail wildly as he tries to explain while struggling to get out of his seat.

“Thank you for visiting our coffee shop. You probably shouldn’t come back.” The man pats Shawn’s back as he escorts him out of the cafe.

“Yeah, uh… yeah, thank you for the experience,” He mumbled.

Shawn left the shop with a belly full of coffee, a half-eaten brownie, and the urge to throw it all up.

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#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x you #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes x fem!reader

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