I just read your Shawn smut and it was SO FUCKING GOOD OH MY GOD this app is so so lacking in Shawn stuff. Are you planning on writing anything else for him??
I love Shawn Spencer just so so much. Psych is so underrated, it was one of my favorites growing up. I love writing in these characters voices so much, and Shawn was my first ever crush, so there will be more for sure.
Yay! I’m so glad that your taking requests, I Saw that you did Shawn Spencer from psych before I was wondering if you could do another one with Shawn?
Shawn Spencer x male reader (female is okay if your not comfortable with male) so basically the reader just came home from the marines, Shawn hasn’t seen them in about two years and when they got released they went to Henry’s house who opened him in his house with open arms. Henry talked to them and they caught up (they have a better relationship then Henry and Shawn) Henry eventually tells the reader where to find Shawn (at the police station) and they go there to surprise Shawn. They walk in and Gus’s eyes immediately go wide and a smile forms. Gus slaps Shawn’s shoulder and points to the reader, Shawn lets out a squeal and tears start running down his cheeks as he runs across the station to see them. The reader picks Shawn up and twirls him around. The chief, lassie, and Jules are in shock and Gus is looking at them with adoration.
Welcome Home Soldier | Shawn Spencer X Male!Reader
Warnings: Military, PTSD, use of Y/N
Word Count: 1950
A/N: Hey everyone, I'm back after my hiatus. This request was sent some time ago, and I wrote a little draft of it. Then life got weird, and after looking at that draft, I decided to expand past the end a bit more. I don't know how gay the request was originally, but I never pass up an opportunity to make it gay 🏳️🌈! I hope that is okay and that this is what you were looking for!
Summary: You signed a four year contract with the Marines, but got out early on disability due to an incident that left you with some mental scars. Upon returning home, you go searching for your best friend Shawn Spencer. There are some things that need discussed.
୨﹒˖˚──﹕♡﹕──˚˖﹒୧
Santa Barbara, I’m Home
This is what you think as you pass the beautiful “Welcome to Santa Barbara” sign. Two years. Has it really been that long? Was it really only two? Your time in the Marines felt like an eternity, but now that you are back, it felt like no time had passed.
You had signed on for four years. This was before an IED detonated close enough to your vehicle that it knocked you unconscious. Of course, you were in the driver’s seat. This left its mark on you, body and soul. If you could manage to forget about that, the stiffness in your bones would remind you.
You pass the elementary school you used to go to, and are immediately flooded with memories of your all but forgotten life here. Beach days, pineapples in everything, Shawn.
You shut that last one down quickly.
Shawn Spencer was one of your best friends all throughout your childhood, though you never were quite sure if you were one of his. When you were at school with a group of kids, he seemed too cool to know you. But when it was just you two, he was very different.
It had been two years since the last time you saw him. Two years since you last touched. That moment played through your mind much more than you’d like to admit.
I should text him. You think before the bus screeches to a halt. You gather your belongings and step out into the beautiful warm air of California.
There is only one place you could see yourself going, so you head in that direction. Luckily, it’s not far at all, but it gives you plenty of time to think. Think of all that could have changed between you, Shawn, and everyone else intertwined into your lives. What could you possibly be expecting, for time to stand still while you served? You were never the smartest boy around, but you were far from dumb. Before you know it, you are outside the house that you spent more time at than your own. A beautiful white house with red trim around the windows, at the most prime beach location. Your hand, seemingly without your input, reaches up and knocks on the door.
You freeze, and hear shuffling on the other side. “Coming!” A deep, warm voice booms from the other side. When the voice’s owner opens the door, the shock is evident on both of your faces.
“Well. I’ll be damned. Come on in, soldier.”
୨﹒˖˚──﹕♡﹕──˚˖﹒୧
You sit on the brown couch, breathing in familiar scents, taking in familiar sights, and trying so much to pretend like what Henry Spencer is saying is interesting.
“The Dodgers have been sucking this year, but all the athletes I see on the field are babies anyway. Back in my day, the athletes you saw on TV were real men.” Henry blabbed, nursing his mug of tea that he made. He made one for you too. Henry Spencer? Tea? The irony of him talking about real men while sipping an herbal blend was not lost on you.
After a few moments of silence, Henry speaks up again. “Shawn isn’t here. Hasn’t been for a long time.”
You use your voice, realizing that it seems almost rusty from lack of use. “Did he finally leave Santa Barbara? He always wanted to.”
Henry signed. “No son. He’s still local. He just… doesn’t frequent these halls much anymore. Not unless he needs something that is.”
You pretend to be nonchalant. “Oh. What’s he up to nowadays?”
Henry, the ever so observant one, changes the subject. “What happened, soldier?”
You freeze again, not ready to answer.
“Because you took my spot on the couch. And you and I both know how important that spot is for me. Not only because it’s perfect for viewing the TV, but-”
“Because it sees all possible entrances to this room at once.” You say.
“Son, what happened over there?” He says, eyebrows furrowing.
The tears come, and they don’t stop, despite your protests and frequent blinking. “I-” You can’t get the words out, thinking of the vehicle you were manning losing control. About how you woke up in the infirmary in a neck brace, unable to talk, unable to scream.
“Y/L/N, it’s okay. You are safe. Not only because there is no threat, but if there was? You are with the best former police officer Santa Barbara has ever had.” He says. Always one to throw that in there, but it did make you feel better.
“Although, we both know you didn’t come here for me.” Henry says.
He’s right. You want to see Shawn again. You know that you could text him, but not seeing him was putting you through more mental stress.
“He’s likely at the SBPD, or maybe his office. It’s called ‘Psych’ and it's down on State Street. Do you need a ride?”
You nod your head.
୨﹒˖˚──﹕♡﹕──˚˖﹒୧
SBPD. Shawn was a cop nowadays? That sounds nothing like him. You start worrying that Shawn was a completely different man now. This being the same Shawn who teased you relentlessly about becoming a Marine.
“You’re telling me that you want to willingly wake up at 4 a.m? I don’t think 4 a.m even exists.” He says in your memory. “Plus if you want a man to yell at you, I can do that.”
“You don’t give me money when you yell at me. Plus, I need the structure and discipline.” You respond.
“Whatever. Just remember, the Marine’s pineapples are not better than home grown.” He says again.
You stop yourself from remembering the next part of that memory.
As you pass the SBPD, you see Shawn’s motorcycle in the parking lot. Henry sees it too, and wordlessly pulls into the parking lot close to the door.
“Here’s your stop kid.” Henry says. You thank him and get out of the car. You wave goodbye as you close his car door, and he leaves.
You walk up the steps nervously. Why is Shawn here? Does it matter? You open the door and immediately spot Gus from across the room. He was a good buddy, but he was not like Shawn. He is mid sentence when he looks up and sees you.
“I KNOW that raccoons can hold grudges, Shawn! I read three separate articles!” He says and then looks towards the door. “Oh my God.”
“Nope. I reject that tone. That is not a good ‘Oh my God.’” Shawn says. You barely make it out as your feet move on their own towards him.
“Shawn. Turn around.” Gus says.
Shawn feels the difference in tone immediately. “You don’t get to do that voice unless it’s real.” He says. Gus gives you and then Shawn a knowing look and Shawn turns around. He’s probably 10 feet from you. He was what, 150 miles from you a few hours ago? And now he’s right in front of you. You could take two steps and close this gap, but you stay frozen.
Time moves slowly. You don’t move. Shawn could be a completely different man. He works with the police of all people now. That isn’t the Shawn you remember. Maybe he wants nothing to do with you. Maybe…
A high pitched scream echoes throughout the room. Was that Shawn? In seconds you feel the pressure of a body slamming into you. You blink a few times, realizing that body belongs to Shawn. He is wrapped around you so tightly you forget that you can breathe, but you manage to come back to reality. You instinctively pick him up and spin around, wrapped in a tight embrace. Tighter than just how two best friends would hug.
“You’re back.” He says, and it sounds like he could be crying. You set him down.
“I’m back.” You respond.
He remembers where you are, and regains his cool guy composure. “You’re supposed to call bro! That’s how phones work!”
“Surprises build character.” You respond.
He smirks and Gus approaches, dapping you up. “What’s up man? Glad to have you back.”
The rest of the office continues like nothing happened. You don’t know most of these people; you were never involved with law enforcement.
After a minute or two of polite conversation, Shawn and you stealing glances at each other, Shawn speaks up. “Gus, you know I love you buddy. But… Y/N and I have some things to discuss privately.”
Gus understands but feigns offense. He rubs his thumb over his nose, puffs up his shoulders nonchalantly, and walks off.
Shawn starts walking off too, and you hurry to follow. He walks to a quiet stairwell in the least busy part of the SBPD. We walk down a flight of stairs before Shawn turns abruptly and places his hands on your face. His eyes scan for scars, lines, changes. You stay like this for a moment before he speaks up.
“You’re really here?” He whispers.
“I am. I’m done.” You respond
“Done like… done done?” He asks.
You chuckle lowly. “Done.”
Shawn smiles and slowly lowers his hands.
“Shawn I-” You say.
He interrupts, voice cracking. “You can’t leave me again. I’ll follow you. I have resources now.”
You chuckle. “Yeah. Never thought I’d see the day when Shawn Spencer became a cop.”
“Woah woah woah. I am not a cop. I am a psychic.” He says.
“Sure you are, and I’m Oprah Winfrey.” You respond.
He laughs, a real laugh. The laugh that you missed most while you were away. Your eyes soften at the sound and he notices, stopping and clearing his throat.
“So…” You say. “You missed me?”
He scoffs. “I missed my bro being around sure, sue me.”
You look down at chuckle again. “Bro.” You repeat.
The memory you suppressed earlier comes back at full force.
“You know, pineapples aren’t grown here in Santa Barbara. At least not commer-” You say in your memory. You are caught off by lips pressing against yours. Shawn’s lips.
He pulls back from you. “Shit, I don’t know why I did that.” He says.
You come back to reality. “Why did you kiss me? Before I left?” You ask.
Shawn scoffs, trying and failing to be nonchalant. “I… I just…”
You step closer. He looks up at you, you are just a few inches taller than him, and he continues stuttering.
“Shawn.” You say, quieting him. “I think about that moment. A lot.”
Shawn’s eyes glimmer. “You do?”
“Why did you kiss me Shawn?” You ask again.
“I… I kissed you because. I was afraid I’d never get the chance to do so. And I didn’t want to miss an opportunity.” He says.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and stepped closer to him, placing your hands on his face this time.
“You have another opportunity, don’t miss this one.” You say. You both lean in and connect, gently at first, and then you start picking up momentum.
His lips are not as soft as you remember, and the thought of him getting ready to kiss you two years ago makes you deepen the kiss a bit more. He reaches up and cups your face as well.
After a few moments, you reluctantly separate. Shawn’s lips look pink and slightly swollen, and you are sure yours mirror his.
He speaks up after what seems like an eternity. “I don’t want to miss any more opportunities Y/N.” He says.
“You won’t. I’m here to stay.” You respond.
Shawn places a swift kiss to your lips one last time, pulling back and acting offended.
“Did you get pineapple smoothies without me?”
୨﹒˖˚──﹕♡﹕──˚˖﹒୧
A/N: It feels good to back. There's a lot in the works, so please feel free to send some requests my way. Obviously Psych is a favorite, but feel free to send requests for anybody. I can't promise to not disappear again, but for now, it feels good to be home. Maybe it's ironic that my first fic back is a coming home fic, but c'est la vie.
Thank you for the request @hpxmcusworld. Sorry for the almost year long delay. ♡
so basically life fell together and fell apart like 100 times since i last logged in. please bear with me while i go through requests and get acclimated to the environment i left temporarily. love you all and i'm excited to be back.
Hi, i absolutely love your work. But can i have another shawn spencer oneshort please?
Hand Over the Evidence | Shawn Spencer X GN!Reader
Warnings: Angst, minor limb severing, legal system, alcohol, guns, knives, blood, use of “y/n”
Word Count: Like 5900
A/N: I admittedly don’t know much about the law enforcement system so bear with me. I’m back back back again. My life literally did a complete 180, but I am back due to popular demand (aka like 3 people in my inbox). Love ya, mean it, here’s something I’ve been cooking up.
Summary: You’re a detective in Santa Barbara and you team up with the eccentric fake psychic Shawn Spencer to investigate a bizarre string of restaurant break-ins. The seemingly harmless incidents escalate when a severed hand is found at a high-end bistro, accompanied by cryptic napkin messages. While tensions rise among the team, the case takes a chilling turn, hinting at a calculated and sinister motive.
There was never a dull moment in Santa Barbara, at least not where you worked. As a detective with the Santa Barbara Police Department, you never got bored. Especially not with the eccentric Shawn Spencer always weaseling his way into your caseload. Is weaseling the right word? Considering you actually thoroughly enjoyed his antics, you’re not quite sure. They always kept you entertained. The jury is still out on psychics, but if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
Even for Santa Barbara, this case was unusual. And you knew “unusual.” You formerly worked for the FBI as a criminal profiler, and if it weren’t for your father falling ill, you probably still would be. But you moved back home from Quantico and settled into a much lower stakes job working for the SBPD. Despite your background, this newest case definitely gave you a pause.
It was simple really. Just a string of break-ins in some of Santa Barbara’s premier restaurants. What stumped you was that there was nothing stolen or broken; the only sign of a break-in was the broken locks and the scrawled notes left on napkins.
“The feast is set, but the guests are missing.” You said, reading the newest napkin note.
“This is a waste of time.” said Detective Carlton Lassiter.
You looked at him quizzically. “I’m not so sure about that, Lassiter.”
He rolled his eyes. Lassiter rarely got along with anyone, let alone you. You beat his score on the Marksmanship Qualification Program by three points, and he’s yet to live it down.
“There’s clear intent here.” You said.
“Sure there is.” He replied. “The intent to make me waste my time.”
Juliet, ever the diplomat of the pair, offered another perspective. “It could be just someone with a grudge against these restaurants, like maybe a competitor trying to scare their rivals.”
“Or…” Shawn trailed off as he leaned dramatically against the doorframe. “...A ghost chef exacting revenge on the living.”
Lassiter rolled his eyes. “No one asked you, Spencer.” Shawn sauntered into the room, unfazed.
“I’m just saying,” Shawn continued, “if you put the napkins together, they could spell out an ancient recipe for vengeance.”
“Vengeance stew,” Gus muttered nervously, adjusting his tie.
You ignored them both, instead turning to Chief Vick. “This feels calculated. The phrasing, the escalation… This is building towards something bigger.”
Chief Vick looked skeptical, but sighed. “Keep me updated. I can’t justify allocating more resources to this until we have more to go on.”
Lassiter smirked as he left. “Don’t worry Bureau, I’m sure you’ll crack the code of the magical napkins before the lunch rush.”
You didn’t rise to the bait.
The next crime scene was no laughing matter.
Yellow tape stretched across the high-end bistro, chicly named La Table Éclair. The tables were overturned, chairs in disarray, and broken locks littered the floor. No one batted an eye at that when they realized what was in the center of it all. A severed hand, palm-up, on the mahogany bar.
“The hand that feeds will starve,” you muttered, reading the scribbled napkin next to it. “The ring binds no more.”
Gus took one look at the grisly scene and promptly fainted, crumpling into a heap at Shawn’s feet.
“Gus!” Shawn exclaimed, catching him with surprising ease. “Buddy! Stay with me. You’re too beautiful for the floor!” Your eyes were trained on the evidence, cameras flashing from the crime scene photographers just over your shoulder. Shawn set his best friend down gently before approaching to get a better look.
Despite the grim atmosphere, Shawn couldn’t resist leaning closer to the dismembered hand. “Well, look at you, Lefty,” he said, as if addressing an old friend. “You’ve really let yourself go. What happened? Bad breakup? Lost your grip on life?”
You could almost feel the warning look Juliet gave him, but you were too busy analyzing everything about the scene in front of you.
Gus started to come to, standing up slowly and trying to pretend like that never happened. You almost had to laugh; how many crime scenes had this poor man been dragged to? He stood next to Shawn, whispering. They did that a lot, you noticed.
You tried to look at Lassiter, in part to ask what he was thinking and in part to see if he realized just how wrong he was yet. Realistically, you knew better. Even when he knows he’s wrong, he rarely will admit it. He avoided your gaze. Shawn notices this and starts speaking loudly. “You know you’ve really gotta hand it to Detective Lethal Weapon over there. Look who was right all along, Lassie.” You smirked at his comment.
“Bag up the hand.” Said Chief Vick. “We’ll have Woody take a look at it.”
~
Back at the station, you and your colleagues stood in the autopsy room sharing theories.
“Clearly, this is the work of someone who couldn’t hand-le the heat in the kitchen. Look at the message! ‘The hand that feeds will starve?’ That is some classic chef drama. They are probably sautéing vengeance as we speak.” Shawn quipped.
“It’s obvious what is happening. These are just vandals who started with pranks and decided to up the ante for attention. Leaving the hand is just a sick calling card. Probably some wannabe gang trying to cause chaos.” Lassiter replied.
“I don’t know about that, Lassiter. It feels like whoever did this wasn’t just targeting the restaurant– they were targeting someone connected to it.” Juliet added.
Shawn rolled his eyes. “It seems like you are forgetting there’s a handless Joe walking around here, Lassie.”
“I think you mean a handless Jane.” Woody said as he entered the conversation. “This is clearly a ladies hand.” The team all turned to look at him as he continued. “This is classic intimidation. And the cut on the hand is jagged, probably done while the victim was still alive, and certainly not done by any professional. This is just like those old mob cases I read about! Except, with fewer italian accents and even more bistros”
“Wait!” Shawn said. “I’m getting a vision!” He said as he put his hand to his temple. He then looked at that hand, confused. He grabbed his hand with the other one and slammed it on the table. He then mimicked the motion of chopping it off. Lassiter rolled his eyes, and Chief Vick and Juliet looked at him with mild concern. You, of course, barely noticed, too lost in your own thoughts about the case.
“I’ve got it!” Shawn finally said.
“Spencer, if you say one word about the mob even once, I swear I will have you arrested for obstruction.” Lassiter replied.
Shawn ignored him. “It was-”
You interrupt. “What about the ring?”
Everyone paused. They turn to you like they just noticed you were even here.
“The ring?” Woody asked.
“Yes. Can I see it?” You asked him.
He seemed confused until it dawned on him that you are onto something. He grabbed the ring as you gloved up your hands, before handing it over to you.
You analyzed this ring. There was nothing particularly amazing about it. It was a simple gold band, delicate and feminine, with a square cut ruby gem. The gem was nothing to sneeze at, but certainly not your taste. You then noticed some engraving on the inside of the band.
“MK.” You said aloud.
“Who’s MK?” Juliet asked.
“Michael Keaton?” Shawn added, playfully.
“Hopefully it’s not Mila Kunis.” Added Gus.
“Will both of you just shut u-” Lassiter says before a loud beep interrupts him. Woody quickly runs over to the source of the sound, his computer.
“It looks like we have a hit on the fingerprints. This lovely limb belongs to none other than Isabelle Noir.” He said.
“Isabelle Noir?” Juliet asked. “The famous lockpick?”
“That could be the message the culprit is trying to send.” Chief Vick said. “The hand of a lockpick? Broken locks?”
“But what did Isabelle have to do with all of this?” Juliet asked.
Isabelle Noir was more than a lockpick, but a local legend. However, after serving her last bit of time she had been completely off the radar.
“If this involves Noir, there’s more than enough people who would like to take a shot at her.” Lassiter said.
Chief Vick folded her arms, her expression dark. “We need to figure out who would go to such extremes to send a message—and why now.”
“Maybe it’s a rival?” Juliet suggested. “Someone who wanted to take her spot as the best in the business.”
“Could be, but leaving the hand feels personal,” Lassiter interjected. “A rival wouldn’t need to make it this grotesque. It’s got vendetta written all over it.”
Shawn, who had been unusually quiet, snapped his fingers. “Isabelle isn’t the target! The culprit must be using her to get to someone else!”
Gus raised an eyebrow. “You mean like a partner in crime?”
“Exactly! Or an ex-partner in crime. What if MK doesn’t stand for a person, but a...place?” Shawn grinned, clearly pleased with himself.
Lassiter scoffed. “Oh, please, Spencer. You’re just throwing darts in the dark as usual.”
“Am I, Lassie?” Shawn replied, leaning casually on the examination table. “Think about it. Severed hand, cryptic messages, and a lockpick famous for slipping through people’s fingers—literally. It’s not about her. It’s about who she’s connected to.”
“Do you have anything resembling proof, or are we all just supposed to ride this train of baseless speculation with you?” Lassiter shot back.
Before Shawn could answer, Woody, who had been clicking through files on his computer, spun around in his chair.
“Shawn may be onto something. There was a known associate of Noir’s named Marvin Kale. He and Isabelle worked together on several heists about five years ago. Their partnership ended abruptly after a falling out. Word is, Marvin kept going while Isabelle...well, she didn’t.”
“Didn’t what?” Shawn asked.
“Didn’t want to. She turned herself in not long after, served her time, and vanished.” Woody said.
Juliet frowned. “And Marvin Kale?”
“Still active in certain circles. No arrests, but lots of rumors.” Said Woody.
“If this is about Kale, we need to track him down. Now.” Lassiter said commandingly.
“But where to start?” Said Juliet.
You looked up to see Shawn and Gus quietly exit the room, going unnoticed except for by you. You let them go, more focused on the case than anything else. “Wasn’t there supposed to be a grand opening of a new high end restaurant in Montecito tonight? Maybe it’s worth checking out.” You said.
“That’s not a bad idea.” Said Chief Vick. “What’s the name?”
“Monarch and King.” You replied.
“MK.” Lassiter added.
Chief Vick looked at her team. “We’ll be there. Detective Y/L/N, you have experience going undercover. You’ll be our covert officer. We’ll have eyes and ears inside the restaurant.”
“On it, Chief.” You replied. It had been a while since you went undercover, but you were excited to do it again.
“Do you think that’s the best idea?” Lassiter says. “Maybe I should be the one, Chief.”
“I’ve got this Lassiter.” You said confidently.
“We know you do.” Said Chief Vick. “Do us proud.”
~
This was the most exclusive event in Santa Barbara. The strings Chief had to pull to get you on the guest list must have been extensive. Of course it’s not you, it’s Rowan Blake. The name even sounded exclusive; like someone you have to pay to see. You put on your best attire, hoping that it was enough to at the very least go undetected. You were far from opulent, but you did clean up quite nicely, when you had the time to do so and a place to go.
Your taxi stopped, as did your racing thoughts. There was a time and a place to spiral, but this was not that time. You immediately became Rowan, and you thanked your driver with a generous tip.
The building was quite impressive; a mediterranean style like many buildings are here in Montecito. Stucco walls with soft shades of ivory and beige, ornate iron detailing, arched windows, dark wood. It was beautiful. What made it stand out the most though was a large carving in the top middle of the building, just above the grand double doors: The letters “MK.” You buried a smirk beneath your stoic expression.
As you approached the doors, the door attendant caught your eye. He looked young and nervous, like he didn’t expect to have such an important job. Poor thing, you thought to yourself. This is going to be easier than expected. You approached the desk where he stood and smiled.
“Rowan Blake?” You told him. He quickly scanned the names on the list in front of him, landing on your faux moniker. He gulped before looking up at you. “You may go in. Have a nice night.” He said with an awkward smile. You graciously smiled back and walked inside.
The interior was just as elegant as the exterior. Rich velvet curtains, polished marble floors, and intricate gold designs. There were subtle crowns adorning the walls, as well as portraits of supposed royalty. There was a large ballroom floor in the middle, likely just for this event, and plush leather chairs surrounding sturdy dark tables on the edges of the floor. Intimate booths with curtains lined the walls, as well as a large open bar. Chandeliers offered soft, low light throughout the room. You scanned the room, trying to memorize as many faces as you could while still maintaining the casual nature a typical guest would have. You walked confidently to the bar, trying to fit in as much as possible.
Once at the bar, you ordered a Vesper martini. You weren’t much of a drinker, at least not anymore, but you knew that one would take a bit to make. You listened in on the conversation nearby, but did not quite hear anything useful.
“Hello gorgeous.” A voice said behind you. Confused, you turned to face none other than Shawn Spencer. You tried to suppress your shock.
“What the hell are you doing here?” You said under your breath.
“The same thing you’re doing I presume.” He answered quietly.
You gave him a look. “Shawn-”
“It’s actually Montgomery Kinsington.” He interrupted.
You almost had to stifle a laugh. “...Seriously?”
“What?” He smirked. “Too fancy?”
He turned to the bar and called over the bartender. “Excuse me sir.” He said with an ambiguous and ridiculous accent. “I would like the Crown Jewel please.”
“Is that coming out of your pocket or Gus's?” You whispered. “That’s only the most expensive cocktail you and I have ever seen.”
He smirked once again, a Shawn Spencer special. “You know, it’s sort of like we’re on a date, Lethal Weapon.”
You returned the smirk at the nickname he had given you. “Not remotely. I’m here to solve a case. You’re here to wear a ridiculously flashy suit and order a $55 cocktail.”
“Who says you can’t do all of the above?” He smiled, grabbing his drink and sneaking off further into the party. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold in the grin that split your face.
After some scanning, you lock eyes with a man, sipping his drink. He smiled over his glass. You returned the smile. The man was decently attractive, tall with salt and pepper hair and some stubble along his jaw. His eyes never left yours as he took another sip, gesturing you over to him. During this sip, you noticed his ring. Gold with a red stone, albeit much more masculine than the one sitting in evidence currently. It certainly could be a coincidence, but your gut said to investigate, so you approached him confidently.
He smiled as you approached, shooing away the company he already had. When you got close enough to him, he leaned down to your ear so he could be heard over the music playing.
“And who may you be?” He asked.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You replied flirtatiously. At this, he chuckled lowly and placed his hand on the small of your back, lightly pushing you away from the rest of the crowd. You instinctively stiffened slightly, but allowed him to guide you wherever he wished to go, keeping your guard as high as it could be.
“How about if you tell me your name…” He said, lightly pushing you to a booth for more privacy. “...I’ll tell you mine.”
You smirked. “My name is Rowan. Rowan Blake.” You said.
He rested his head behind your ear. “That’s quite lovely. I haven’t seen you around, are you new to the area?”
You reached the booth and sat down. “Not so fast, you haven’t even told me your name yet.”
He grinned, sitting down and pulling the curtains closed. “I’m Mr. Kale, but I let pretty people like you call me Marvin.” He pauses while he takes another long sip of his drink. “I don’t believe we’ve met, have we? Are you new to the area?”
“You are just full of questions, aren’t you… Marvin.” You replied coyly.
He chuckles. “It just seems like you’re not really here. Like you’re only observing and not participating.”
You grin. “You can say I’m just here for the entertainment. I’m not really in the business of entertaining myself, really.”
“Really? I find you quite entertaining.” He says. “So what’s your story?”
“Not much of a story to tell. I’m just here for some fun. But I have a feeling there’s more going on around here than meets the eye. What do you think?” You ask him.
Marvin leaned in slightly, his voice dropping low. “There’s always more than meets the eye, isn’t there? Some people can’t see it. They’re too busy looking at the surface, missing the important stuff.”
“Is that so?” You replied.
“Oh painfully so. But there are also those people like the two of us. Dancing around the truth, yet it is so deliciously obvious. People like us? We don’t mind a little game. It keeps things lively.” He answered.
You batted your eyelashes at him. “And what kind of game are we playing?”
Just then the curtains are yanked back. You both are startled and look at who ruined your conversation, only to meet the face of Shawn Spencer. Typical.
“This isn’t my booth! So sorry to interrupt you two.” He said.
“Not a problem.” Marvin replied.
Shawn shot you a knowing look before closing the curtains. You looked back at the man across from you, trying to get back to where you were.
“Let’s take this somewhere more private.” He said, getting up. He took your hand and helped you out of your seat before walking you back through a door on the side of the room. Alarm bells started going off in your head, but your search for answers muffled the sound.
The room was lit by a singular candle on a table sitting in the very center. Two chairs sat across each other, and the room smelled slightly of bergamot. Marvin led you in before shutting the door behind you.
“How did you know this was here?” You asked. While you tried to remain flirtatious, you feared that it came across as a bit fearful. Whether or not he caught it, you weren’t sure.
“Did I forget to mention?” He said. He raised your hand and gave a soft kiss to your knuckles. “This is my establishment.”
Your eyebrows raised. “I didn’t realize.”
He chuckled at that. “There’s a lot to learn about me, Rowan.”
Illuminated by candle light, he poured two glasses of wine. You had enough sense to know that if you have any of that, he has to have some first. To reassure you, he took a sip from his glass. You followed suit, taking a much smaller sip.
“I must be honest Rowan. I would very much like to kiss you.” He said softly.
You tensed up internally, hoping that he couldn’t tell. “Well. What’s stopping you?” You replied.
He laughed softly before reaching up to cup your face. Your head started spinning. What’s going on? You thought to yourself.
Before you can even think, Marvin collapsed. You had to steady yourself on the table, fighting whatever was taking control of your system. Just then, the door swung open, and through the light flooding the room, you realized that you are not alone. A figure stood in the darkness the whole time. You fell to your knees, clutching the edge of the table for any sort of stability. In your final moments of consciousness, you realized that Shawn is who entered the room. You tried to muster the strength to warn him when everything goes black.
~
You woke up slowly, head heavy, to find yourself bound to a harsh wooden chair. You could feel rough rope digging into your wrists tied behind your back. It took a few seconds but you regained feeling in your shoulders, unfortunately. Every joint in your body hurt like hell, like you hadn’t moved in 10 years.
Again, you felt the presence of others, and you slowly lifted your head as much as you could to find two, also unconscious and bound to chairs surrounding a table. Across from you was Marvin and a woman you did not recognize. The woman was not bound by her arms, though they were tied behind her back, but instead bound around her chest and abdomen to the chair. She had dark, disheveled hair, and her head hung backwards over the back of her seat.
As you regained your strength, you were able to lift your head more, taking in the surroundings of the room you were in. It was elegant, but old and dusty, like it had been forgotten about for some time. You turned to your left and your stomach dropped. Another person was tied next to you: Shawn, still unconscious. The sight of him jump started you, and you started pulling at the rope holding you. You pulled with such force you almost knocked your chair down backwards, and your skin started to burn. You cursed under your breath.
“Giving up already, Detective?” A voice said from behind you. You stilled. Shawn started to slowly wake up, as did Marvin and the mysterious woman across from you.
You heard heels clicking on the ground, coming your way. Eventually, a woman walked into your line of sight. She looked polished, with a dark red gown and a modest updo. She smiled.
“The guests are finally arriving, but I didn’t expect to have you two here.” She said gesturing to yourself and Shawn. “What a lovely turn of events.”
“What is this?” You ask.
She giggled. “Well, it’s a feast, silly!” She said, hands clasped in front of her. You noticed her choice in jewelry. Gold band, red square cut stone. “Let me introduce myself. My name is Marisol Kane. It’s lovely to meet you, Detective.”
The woman across the table spoke up quietly. “Marisol, let these people go.”
“I don’t want to hear one word out of your whore mouth, Isabelle.” She replied, warmth suddenly gone.
“What is this about?” Marvin said, finally conscious.
“What is this about? This is about you stealing the woman I love and turning her against me!” Marisol yelled, brandishing a knife.
“Allow me.” Shawn quipped. You wished you could stop him but even with free arms there is nothing to stop that mouth from running.
“It starts with you, Isabelle Noir. You’re the stuff of criminal legend. The Picasso of lockpicking, except instead of painting, you were cracking safes and stealing hearts. And then, one day, you vanished. No goodbye, no farewell tour, just poof—gone. Everyone assumed you’d gone straight or, at the very least, decided to retire somewhere with a beach and a fruity drink. But no. You’ve been here. Hiding. Because someone made sure you couldn’t run.
And that someone? Marisol Kane. Marisol, your obsession with Isabelle is, how do I put this delicately, certifiable. You were her best friend, but secretly, you wanted to be so much more. And when you found out she said yes to Marvin—Marvin! Of all people—something in your brain just… snapped. You couldn’t stand the idea of Isabelle loving anyone else, especially not him.
So, what did you do? You decided to get back at Marvin for all the pain that he caused you. By leaving his fiancée’s severed hand at a rival eatery, adorned with the ring he gave her. You meticulously left a trail of breadcrumbs leading us all the way to Mr. Kale himself, hoping that the initials alone would be enough. You’ve been pulling the strings this whole time, letting him twist in guilt and regret while you’ve been keeping Isabelle locked away like some tragic fairytale villain. But that wasn’t enough for you, was it?
No, you’re not just satisfied with Marvin’s misery. You want revenge. And what better way to get back at him than to kill the woman he loved, right in front of him? Let him watch as you take away the one person he couldn’t protect. It’s dark, it’s twisted, it’s, honestly, a little too on the nose, but hey, points for commitment.
But you forgot one teensy little detail. Me, Shawn Spencer, psychic detective. I knew your whole plan all along, and trust me, law enforcement is already on their way.” Shawn leaned closer to you and whispered. “They are on their way, right?”
Marisol slammed her knife on the table.
“That’s not all…” Continued Shawn. “The worst part is, no matter how this goes, Isabelle is never going to love you the way you love her.”
Marisol looked at him, engulfed in rage. “That’s enough. You think you know everything. But you don’t. Not yet anyway.” She took your chair and pulled you closer to her, picking up the knife and holding it to your neck.
Shawn’s grin dropped.
“You know how I feel, loving someone who does not feel the same.” She pressed the knife further into your skin. “Now you get to watch as they die.”
Your eyes widened and your life flashed before your eyes. Was this really your final moment?
“Don’t do this!” Shawn yelled.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.” Marisol replied.
Shawn paused. “Because you’ll never get away with it.” He said.
Marisol shrugged. “Oh well.” She began to push the knife further when Shawn spoke up again.
“Because what will it prove?”
Marisol laughed chillingly. “Not good enough, Spencer.”
You steeled your expression and prepared to greet death when Shawn spoke up one final time.
“Because if you hurt Y/N, you will spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder, praying that you don’t find me.”
That gave everyone a pause, including you. Marisol loosened her grip on you slightly, before chuckling.
“Love is weakness, Shawn.” She replied.
Suddenly the doors swung open and police entered the room, led by Lassiter and Juliet. Marisol pressed the knife tighter to your neck, using you as a human shield.
“Put the weapon down now!” Lassiter commands.
Marisol refused, staring coldly at the weapon pointed directly at her.
“You don’t want to do this, you could walk away from this.” Juliet added.
Marisol laughed sadly, before looking over at Isabelle. Isabelle silently pleaded with her to put down the weapon. She did not.
“I was never going to walk away from this.” She murmured under her breath before slamming the knife into your shoulder. You barely registered the pain, just as you barely registered the sounds of gunfire and Marisol’s collapsing body. Her grip on the knife remained, and she yanked it out of your wound on her way down.
Everything started moving in slow motion. You could hear yelling. Was that Lassiter calling for paramedics? You couldn’t be sure. Your shoulder felt warm and wet, and then the pain set in. A loud noise ripped throughout the room, and it took just a moment to realize it came from you.
You looked at Juliet, your friend and confidant. You had never seen such concern across her face. She rushed over to you and untied you, gently lowering you to the floor. Your whole arm and chest felt like it was on fire. Shawn and Gus appeared next to you too, though you could barely see through the spots in your vision. How’d Gus get here? Am I dying? You thought to yourself. No. Not yet. You’re just in shock. Even in this state you had to be the voice of reason.
Juliet applied pressure to the wound. Shawn shouted at someone you couldn’t see, and Gus grabbed your other hand, holding it tightly. You could hear the other officers securing the scene, moving what you assumed to be Marvin and Isabelle out of the way.
“You are going to be okay, you can’t die on me yet.” Shawn’s voice cut through the noise. “Not when there’s so much left for me to tell you.”
It took everything in you to move your eyes over to meet his. He looked as if he was going to cry. You mustered out a faint. “Not… going… anywhere.”
As you slipped from consciousness, you saw the lights of the ambulance through a crack in the wall, and then nothing.
~
The antiseptic smell hit you first, then the faint beeping of the machinery you were hooked up to. You knew exactly where you were, Santa Barbara Cottage Hospital. You hoped you never got used to waking up in this fashion, head heavy and eyes blurred. Your eyes fluttered open, taking in the bland atmosphere and the warm sunlight coming in through the blinds. The room was standard and cold, but your eyes lit up when you saw who was there.
Shawn, Gus, Juliet, Lassiter, and even Chief Vick, all lost in conversation.
“You know, maybe we should throw a big party. Maybe with a ‘Congratulations on Not Dying’ banner. Thoughts?” Shawn asked.
Gus rolled his eyes. “No, Shawn. You don’t just throw parties for someone in the hospital.”
“Why not? It’s uplifting! I’ll get balloons and a cake that says ‘Y/N, Please Never Scare Us Like That Again.’” Shawn replied.
“It’s not the worst idea you’ve ever had.” Juliet added.
Lassiter crossed his arms. “The worst idea he ever had was pretending to be a psychic.”
“That is your small-minded interpretation of my God-given abilities.” Shawn replied, mockingly offended.
“Here we go.” Gus said.
You stirred and the team turned to look at you. They sighed a collective sigh of relief.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Juliet said. You smiled weakly in reply.
“How are you feeling?” Shawn asked.
“They almost bled out after being stabbed in the shoulder, how do you think they are feeling?” Gus added.
“You gave us a real scare back there, Bureau. Next time, try not to throw yourself into danger like some action movie hero.” Lassiter said.
“Yeah Y/N, how dare you do something brave and selfless. Lassie would prefer you to run away screaming.” Shawn quipped.
“I’d prefer for you to not end up in the hospital.” Lassiter said, grumbling.
“Lassiter just means we’re all really glad you’re okay.” Juliet added.
You smiled. Chief Vick spoke up. “We’re really proud of your bravery, and we’re glad to see you back.” She turned to everyone else. “Let’s give Detective Y/L/N some space.”
As the team left, you mustered the strength to speak. “Hey Lassiter.” You said. He turned back to look at you. “Nice shot.” You said and he almost cracked a smile.
“Considering your score on the Marksmanship Qualif-” You continued.
Lassiter interrupted by rolling his eyes and swiftly walking out of the room. Even Chief Vick smirked a bit at that.
Gus and Shawn were the last to leave. They headed toward the door when Shawn suddenly stopped. Gus turned to look at him and Shawn gestured for him to go ahead. Gus looked back at you and then back at Shawn. “Don’t say anything stupid.” He said.
He just grinned and looked at the floor in return. Gus smiled at you before walking out of the room.
Shawn turned back to you, eyes still on the floor and hands in his pockets. He walked back to sit down next to you.
“So, what are all the things you haven’t told me yet?” You asked.
He finally looked up at you. “You remember that?” He asked back.
“Answer my question first.” You said.
He chuckled a bit. After a moment he finally spoke up. “You scared the hell out of me,” he said softly, his voice unusually sincere. “I thought I lost you back there.”
You began to speak but he stopped you and continued. “I’ve been doing this thing where I crack jokes and avoid feelings because, you know, feelings are terrifying. But seeing you like that, seeing you hurt, it made me realize I can’t keep avoiding this.”
He leaned closer, his expression raw and unguarded. “I’m in love with you. There, I said it. I love you. I love the way you see the world, the way you keep me grounded when my brain’s flying off in eight different directions. I love the way you call me out when I’m being ridiculous and how you secretly laugh at my jokes when you think I’m not looking, and-”
You smiled and interrupted him. “Shawn.”
He looked back at you, looking completely vulnerable. You didn’t mind it, seeing him this way. It was different.
“Yeah?” He asked.
“I love you too.”
His face lit up and he let out a small, incredulous laugh. “You do?”
“Always have.” You admitted.
Shawn blinked, clearly taken aback. For once in his life, he was speechless. He ran a hand through his hair, his usual smirk replaced with a genuine, boyish grin.
"Wow," he finally said, sitting back slightly but still leaning close enough that you could see the sparkle in his eyes. "Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. I mean, I hoped. But hearing it? That’s...wow."
You chuckled softly, wincing a little at the motion, and Shawn immediately leaned forward, concern flashing across his face.
"Hey, hey, no laughing if it hurts," he said, his voice soft but firm. "Doctor Shawn prescribes...uh...smiling. Smiling’s safer."
"Smiling’s overrated," you teased, even as a small grin crept across your face.
"Not when you do it," he shot back, the flirtation in his tone genuine, not just his usual banter.
For a moment, there was silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Shawn reached out hesitantly, his hand brushing against yours on the bed.
“You know Gus sped me to the hospital in his work car? It may not look it but that thing can go pretty fas-”
"Shawn," you said.
"Yeah?"
"Kiss me already."
His eyes widened slightly, but only for a second before he leaned in. The kiss was gentle at first, as if he was afraid to hurt you, but it didn’t take long for him to melt into it. His hand moved up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.
When he pulled back, his smile was brighter than you’d ever seen it.
"Okay, officially the best day ever," he said, his voice breathless.
"Even better than the time you solved the case of the stolen pineapple?" you teased.
"Way better," he said without hesitation. "Though we might need to commemorate this moment with a pineapple smoothie. For tradition, obviously."
You shook your head, laughing softly. "You’re impossible."
"And you’re stuck with me now," he said, grinning. "Forever."
"Forever doesn’t sound so bad," you replied, and the way he looked at you in that moment made you feel like it really wouldn’t be.
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. Oral sex (M! receiving), unprotected p in v, sort of subby Shawn.
Word Count: 3060
A/N: This took me so long because I've been busy with school and work but it is finally here. Hope you guys love it!
Summary: You meet Shawn at a bar and hit it off quickly.
Finally, you were done with your thesis and the research needed to graduate with your masters in behavioral analysis. To celebrate, your friends brought you out to your favorite karaoke club.
You had the best friends in the world; Janine, Mikki, and their boyfriends Larry and Garrett. Janine and Mikki were your roommates in undergrad.
Mikki brought many guys back to your dorm room during the years you lived together, and not one of them were good enough for her and you made sure they knew. Then one day she brought home Garrett, and you just smiled at him as he left. Janine however stayed with the first guy she dated, Larry. He worshiped the ground that Janine walked on, and so you were cool with him too.
The karaoke bar was packed, but you had a perfect seat to watch people go up there and try their hand at the karaoke machine. One poor, very drunk, guy walked up and started singing “Wheel in the Sky” by Journey, and you were afraid you were going to watch this man’s soul leave his body with the amount of force he was putting into it.
“Why don’t you get up there and sing?” Larry asked you.
“No thanks!” You scoffed. You could carry a tune but you were not much of a singer, plus you had not nearly had enough alcohol to give you the confidence to go up there.
“Leave her alone Larry, we’re here to celebrate!” Mikki said.
You all took a shot of… something. It didn’t taste good but it wasn’t really supposed to. It burnt going down and you made a slight face, but it started to do the job almost instantly.
“So now that you’ve got your degree, are you looking to settle down?” Janine asked.
“Any cute boys?” Mikki followed up.
“Not at the moment, no.” You giggled.
“Oh come on, there must be someone.” Mikki said.
“When the right guy comes around, you will be the first to know.” You said.
“Let’s drink to that.” Garrett said and you all took swigs of the drinks in front of you.
After about a half an hour of mediocre singing and too many drinks, they finally convinced you to go up there. You took a few seconds to pick the song until you found it. Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears. It was perfect. You pressed play and the familiar intro played. You heard the door open and you watched as two men walked in. One was bald, wearing a button up shirt tucked into khaki colored dress pants and nice shoes. The other had brown hair and a leather jacket on, and they both lit up as they heard what song was playing. Quickly, it was your turn to sing.
“I wanted to be with you alone…” You started. The men looked up at you in amazement. Maybe you were a better singer than you thought, or maybe you were just incredibly drunk. Either way, this song was going to get sung and it was going to be by you.
You kept singing, and the brunette man never took his steely gaze off of you.
“Something happens and I’m head over heels. I never find out, ‘til I’m head over heels.” You sang loud and clear. He smiled.
When the song wrapped up, not only your table of friends applauded loudly, but so did many others in the bar, including the leather jacket wearing mystery man.
When you came down from the stage, you saw the man watching you the whole way to your table. You knew you had to talk to him, and as soon as your friends saw who you were looking at, they agreed.
“Go over there!” Janine said.
“I swear Y/N if you don’t go over there I will.” Mikki said, much to the dismay of Garrett.
You giggled and then walked towards him just to go past him and go to the bar; you do not chase men. Luckily, he apparently does the chasing and meets you at the bar.
“You sounded great up there. You a big Tears for Fears fan?” He asked.
“Oh I love them. I would play their CD’s while studying all the time. My favorite CD is Songs from the Big Chair.” You answer.
“Mine too. My name is Shawn. Shawn Spencer.” He said.
“My name is Y/N. Nice to meet you.” You said.
You small-talked for a while, finding out the man with him is named Gus, despite Shawn attempting to give him a fake name. You also found out they work for and run a psychic detective agency. That made you laugh.
“What’s so funny?” He asked.
“You? You’re a psychic?” You asked.
“Is that so hard to believe?” He asked back.
“I mean, you don’t strike me as the ‘psychic’ type.” You said with air quotes.
“Here let me show you.” He said.
“You just finished your masters degree… that’s why you're here… you’re celebrating.” He said.
“Not bad.” You said, not quite impressed yet. “What’s my degree in?” You asked.
“My first assumption is being drop dead gorgeous, because it seems like you are an expert in that field. My second guess however, behavioral analysis.” He said.
“Wow. Color me impressed.” You said back. “One final question. Are you an Aries?” You asked.
“I am. How did you know?” He asked.
“You tell me. Maybe I’m a little psychic. Or maybe it’s hyper-observation, my masters degree, and a lucky guess.” You said.
He laughed. “Could I perhaps get your number?”
You looked over at your table to see Mikki and Janine staring at you. You held back a giggle as you wrote it down on a napkin and handed it over.
You strutted away to your table with your drink in hand. Your friends could barely hold back their excitement when you sat down and started smiling at them.
“So?” Janine asked.
“Are we the ‘first to know?’” Mikki asked, quoting you from earlier.
“You may just be.” You said.
Meeting up with Shawn became a pass-time. He often ran into you, claiming it was “fate” or “psychic abilities.” You still weren’t sold on the idea of being psychic. Everything you learned for your degree told you that he was probably just hyper-observant, but his skills prove to be almost superhuman sometimes. Maybe he was a lab experiment gone wrong. Or maybe it had something to do with his dad that he never talks about fondly.
You learned a lot about him and he learned a lot about you too, and you found yourself falling for him. He was funny, quick-witted, had amazing but also questionable music taste, and was unfortunately incredibly good-looking.
He did seem to be sort of a womanizer, but you couldn’t blame him. You were also a sort of player, when you had time to be. In undergrad you broke many hearts, but once grad school started you didn’t have time for games, and you hoped that those days were over. You had a feeling that the games were just started now that you are getting involved with Shawn Spencer, but you still wanted to give it a try.
You got a call from Shawn while you were watching the channel 8 news.
“Hello?” You picked up.
“The owner did it.” He said. You were watching a report about a robbery at a local store. How he knew that you were watching the news, you didn’t know, but you had gotten used to that.
“Did the eye contact avoidance give it away to you too?” You asked him.
“You are good. Almost as good as me.” He said.
“Well I do have a degree.” You joked.
“You do indeed. Now, what would you say to a ride on my motorcycle and dinner under the stars?” He asked.
“I’d say that’s too good to be true. When do I need to be ready?” You asked back.
“Um, now?” He said.
You looked out your window and saw Shawn parked by your apartment building with a bouquet of flowers.
“Be right out.” You said.
~
Shawn drove you to a beautiful clearing a bit out of the city on his bike. The sun was just setting and it made the whole area golden, including Shawn. He grabbed your hand and began walking towards the center of the clearing. Once you were past some of the higher grass, you saw a picnic basket and a big blanket, complete with two glasses and a big bottle of rosé.You chuckled thinking about Shawn buying what appeared to be an expensive bottle, and immediately realized it was probably with the help of Gus and his credit card. You made a mental note to get Gus a gift in return for Shawn spending his money.
Shawn led you to the blanket and then sat down, opening the picnic basket and pulling out all of your favorite picnic foods. You try to recall telling him your favorite foods, but you can’t. He’s either a really good psychic or an incredibly good stalker. You didn’t think too hard on that last thought as he looked up at you smiling. He took the glasses and poured you some of the champagne. You took a sip and let the alcohol burn your throat.
You didn’t talk much, just occasionally cracking jokes, taking sips, and picking at the food he brought. You rarely ever felt as content as you did in Shawn’s presence.
“You are so beautiful.” Shawn said, barely above a whisper while you were looking at the stars that recently became visible.
You turned to look him in the eyes to find he was looking at your lips. You hadn’t kissed him yet but god did you want to. It’s not that he hadn’t tried to before, because he had, you just wanted to play hard to get. You knew that tonight that you didn’t have that resolve.
He smiled as he lifted his eyes to meet yours. You were suddenly aware of how close he was; you could smell the mint toothpaste and rosé on his breath.
“Please.” Is all he could muster to say, and with that single syllable your lips were on his. It was a sweet kiss, so sweet you wished it was your first kiss ever. His lips brushed over yours so gently you were afraid he was going to pull away. Instead, he leaned in further and deepened the kiss. His hand reached up to the back of your head to pull you even closer to him. You obliged, scooting closer on the picnic blanket and knocking over your half full champagne glasses onto the grass.
You reached up to place your hand on the back of his head. You couldn’t help yourself and you tugged lightly on the short hairs on the nape of his neck. At the feeling, he whimpered the slightest bit. To try and cover it up he lightly pushed you until you were on your back and he was hovering above you.
“That was a dirty move.” He said as his lips moved down to your neck teasingly. You tried to keep your composure but his words made you squirm a little and you felt him smile against the skin of your neck.
Things quickly picked up speed, and as he feverishly kissed your lips he put his knee in between your legs at the perfect spot. You did your best to rub against his knee without him noticing, but you failed. He pulled away from you.
“Tsk. Naughty, naughty.” He said, smirking.
“Shawn, please.” You said, frustration evident.
“Oh, poor thing. Do you want me to fuck you right here in the field?” He said, mocking you. You moaned at his words.
“No. I want our first time to be special. Get up.” He said and quickly got off of you. You just blinked at him in surprise and didn’t move. He reached a hand out to you. “Come on, I’ll take you back to my place.”
You reached up to grab his hand and he pulled you to your feet. He kept hold of your hand and started walking towards his bike.
“What about the picnic stuff?” You asked.
“Do you really care about that right now?” He asked back.
You smiled at him before shaking your head no. He smiled back and started pulling you towards his bike. You weren’t certain in the dark, but when he turned it looked like his jeans were becoming a little too tight for his comfort.
Once you were both on the bike, he began flying towards his apartment. It was so fast but not fast enough, and you were needing more friction to soothe the problem Shawn had started. You tried to secretly grind down on the motorcycle seat. It was helping but not enough, so you began to pick up speed. Your breath was getting funny at the contact, and it was moments before Shawn noticed.
He didn’t stop you. Something about you getting off on his bike was making him go feral. He even fantasized about fucking you over top of it while you wore his leather jacket. He needed you as much as you needed him. It was then you both looked over and realized you were about to pass the Psych office. As much as he wanted to make your first time special, he had to have you right then and there, so he pulled over and hurried to the door, leaving you on the bike. You followed right behind him as he fiddled with the key to the door.
He unlocked the door and pushed you inside, immediately finding your mouth with his in the darkness. He shut and locked the door behind him without ever leaving your skin. Your lips never left his as you both walked back until your knees hit the leather couch by the window and you sat back onto it. His lips left yours and he yanked his shirt over his head swiftly before returning to you. As you kissed him you fiddled with his belt until you were able to pull his pants down, showing off the tent in his boxers. You didn’t give him time to think before you yanked his boxers down, showing off his large cock.
“Woah, slow down.” He whined. “You’re still fully clothed.”
You didn’t care, and you reached to grab his length, pumping him up and down. He threw his head back. You loved to see him like this, and while he was blissed out from the pleasure your hand was giving him, you put your mouth on him.
“Oh Jesus, doll. You’re gonna kill me.” He said.
You bobbed up and down on his length, and what you couldn’t fit you stroked with your hand. He grabbed your hair back into a ponytail while you pleasured him, reaching your other hand down to rub yourself through your jeans.
“You feel so good.” He choked out. You could tell that he was resisting the urge to fuck your mouth. You released him with a pop and pumped him with your hand, feeling the wetness from your mouth and the precum leaking from his tip.
“I need you so bad.” He said, pupils blown out with lust.
“Come and get me.” You said back.
Wrong thing to say.
You had never had your clothes taken off of you so fast in your life. In seconds you were completely naked, on your back with him hovering over top of you. He lined himself up with your entrance before looking into your eyes.
“Tell me to stop.” He said.
“I can’t.” You said back. He gave you a swift kiss and then rested his forehead on yours as he pushed himself into you. You moaned in harmony with him. He waited for you to adjust to him before he moved.
“Just tell me when, sweetheart.” He said. You couldn’t make out words so you kissed him to signal you were ready.
He pushed in and out of you slowly, filling you up with each stoke. He was taking his time with you, savoring the moment of you under him on the leather couch. Everytime he comes back to work he's going to think of you taking his cock right here.
He started to speed up and you moaned. “Kiss me.” You said and he obliged. As he filled you up below, his tongue explored every inch of your mouth. Both of you were sweating, moaning messes.
You could feel yourself getting so precariously close to the edge. You knew you only needed a little bit more to get you there. It was at this moment that Shawn reached down and starting rubbing circles on your clit, adding just the right amount of pressure. How did he know that was what you wanted so badly? Maybe he is psychic. The way he touched you exactly where you wanted without you having to say a word made you think he just might be.
You were thrown headfirst over the edge. The feeling was so good you thought you might cry. His hips faltered as he pulled out of you clumsily, releasing all over your stomach. Before he got too soft, he shoved himself back into you and rested his head on your shoulder. You both panted as you came down from your highs.
“I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you at the karaoke bar.” He said, still out of breath.
“Well after tonight, I think you’ll have many more chances to do it again.” You said and smiled. He returned your smile.
“Do you think we should probably leave now so we don’t forget to by the time Gus comes in in the morning?” You asked.
“That is the first time someone has mentioned Gus right after having sex.” He said.
“Shawn.” You said laughing.
He laughed too and got up to find something to clean you off with. After he cleaned you up, you both got dressed and rode back to his apartment, where he got to go at you all over again. You knew that no matter what, you would never forget your time with Shawn in the Psych office, mostly because he’d always be there to remind you of it.
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. Oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected p in v (don’t be like them), professor!Bill, age gap, pet names!!!!!!!!!, a little bit of pure torture.
Word Count: 3550
A/N: It’s finally here! This will be the last part for a while bc this was originally supposed to be a one shot BUT I hope this tides you over for a bit! <3
Summary: Summer is ending and you and Bill’s worst fears are being realized. But it’s fun!
This summer was by far the best you ever had.
Every day started by waking in Bill’s arms, either at your place or his. It was all just sex and talking; you guys connected in a way you didn’t know that you could connect with someone.
Bill was meant for you, you were sure of it. All of the other people you had been with before just prepared you to make this relationship the best it could be. He even took you to his hometown, Tulsa, Oklahoma, and drove you around to all of his favorite places from his childhood. It had been a while since he brought someone home, and his excitement showed.
The summer was ending now, and Bill spent most of his time on his laptop, configuring the online part of his courses where his students could turn in assignments and check their grades. Finding out that he worked at the same school you attended came as a shock, despite there only being one college in your town. Secretly you hoped he commuted to the community college about a half an hour out from your town, but as an alumni he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to work where he attended.
It was fine though, you could avoid the possible issues that could arise. He taught in the english department, upper level, and you already needed the english that you needed to graduate. So you could avoid each other while on campus and spend the night locked together like you did the whole summer thus far.
Your class schedule was the easiest yet, it was your last semester and you got everything incredibly challenging out of the way. And you could still work at the diner where you first met Bill. Everything was looking good for you, and you were excited about the future.
While thinking about upcoming events, your phone rang. Vic. You picked up.
“What’s up, stupid?” You said into the phone
“What’s up with you, stupid?” Vic said back.
“Nothing, I was just thinking.” You said.
“About what I need to get you for your wedding?” Vic joked.
“Shut up.” You said, but secretly the thought of marrying Bill excited you. Marriage as a concept freaked you out. The government did not have to get into your relationship, but man would it be nice to wear a pretty dress and have a party to celebrate the best man you’ve ever known.
“Maybe a toaster…” They said, continuing their joke.
“We’re not there yet, Vic.” You said, giggling.
“You might not be, but Bill? You know how quick older men are to pop the question. He’s not getting any younger.” They said. You thought about that for a moment, was that right around the corner? You hoped not, you needed to finish school and get a big girl job before you could think about affording a wedding.
“Vic.” You said, giggling through the new anxiety. “What was it you actually called about?”
“Oh yeah, I was wondering if you could take my shift tomorrow on bar, I have to go to the admissions office and fix my schedule. Apparently a bunch of schedules got messed up and the website is down because everyone has to fix them.”
“Oh shit, I didn’t hear anything about that. Were they all messed up? Should I go check mine today?” You said.
“I would if I were you, classes are starting up next week.” Vic said. “So, could you take my shift?”
“Oh. Yeah sure.” You said.
“Thanks a million babe, now go get back to Dr. Hader.” Vic said, with emphasis on your handsome professor’s name.
You laughed. “Bye Vic.” You said and then hung up.
Bill was seated in your living room, laptop open on the coffee table. He leaned over it, and you were struck with how handsome he looked like this as you walked in. Brow furrowed in concentration, hair tousled from him running his hands through it, button up shirt with the top two buttons undone, and his respectable professor glasses he wore when he worked on the laptop to protect his eyes from blue light. You could jump him right now but he seemed busy. Oh well, he could work later.
You slowly walked in and sat down, snuggling up to him.
He smiled but kept his eyes on the screen. “How are you, honey?”
You pressed a kiss to his neck. “I need to go to the registration office. Apparently a bunch of schedules are messed up.” You said against his skin.
“Do you need a ride?” He said.
You chuckled as you pulled away from him. “I think it’s best that we limit times we’re seen together on campus.”
“Why? Because it’s impossible for me to keep my hands off of you?” He said, completely nonchalant.
“That would be one reason, yes.” You said in response.
He chuckled.
“It seems like you are keeping your hands to yourself just fine right now?” You said, challenging him.
He cleared his throat and shut his laptop. Within seconds he had you pinned against the couch, attacking your neck with kisses and love bites. You giggled and gasped at the feeling.
“Are you going to keep mouthing off to me, honey?” He said against your neck.
“No sir.” You said through giggles.
He sat up, pulling you up with him.
“As much as I’d love to continue, the registration office closes in a half an hour.” He said, and you pouted a little bit. He was right, but you wished he was wrong so he could have his way with you.
“I should get going then.” You said as you got up and walked to the door, grabbing your backpack off the hook on the way. He followed you all the way there, hands on your waist and mouth on your neck.
“Hurry back.” He said, barely above a whisper.
You turned and gave him a passionate kiss before swiftly walking out the door and to your car. The quicker you get there, the quicker you get back.
~
“You have to take improv.” The registrar said, flustered. She ran around the room grabbing papers and scanning them.
“What?” You said.
She took a break from her running. “Improv. It’s the last class that is open and fills your final requirement. You’ll have to drop one of your classes and take improv so you can graduate on time.” She regains her composure and grabs more papers before sitting in front of the computer. “This is the last time I trust someone beneath me to run the scheduling system.” She says under her breath.
“So, there’s no other option?” You asked.
“Afraid not, now I don’t want to rush you out but I am constantly helping students with their classes and I have four more in the waiting room right now, so here.” She handed you a piece of paper. “This is your new schedule. Sorry about the inconvience, goodbye.”
You knew better than to continue, so you left, feeling slightly defeated.
Your car ride back to your apartment was filled with thoughts about school, what your new class would be like, Bill. He was waiting for you at your apartment, and after the last interaction with him left you hot and bothered, you needed to get home as soon as possible. You pressed the gas pedal a little harder, anticipation rising within you.
It took you five minutes to make the ten minute drive.
He was waiting for you on the couch with two glasses of champagne. You sat your stuff down and joined him.
“Hey honey, did you get it worked out?” He said, placing a kiss right underneath your ear.
You bit back a moan at the feeling. “Mhm. All good.” Is all you could muster up to say.
“Good. Now can we get back to where we were?” He said, taking a sip of his champagne. You mirrored his action, taking a significantly larger swig of yours. You knew your eyes speaked for themselves, but you also knew how much he wanted to hear you say the words. Consent was the bare minimum, which you both knew, but with him it was also incredibly sexy.
“Yes, sir.” You said.
He took your champagne and set it on the coffee table. He slowly leaned you back until you hit the soft couch cushions. He placed soft and sweet kisses all over your face and neck before slipping your shirt off of you. He then placed kisses on your chest, one on each breast, and in a swift motion he undid your bra from underneath you. He began sucking on your right nipple, while flicking your left. You threw your head back in pleasure, back arching off the couch.
“Ah ah ah.” He reprimanded and pressed you back down against the couch. “Stay put pretty girl while I take care of you.” He said.
Your eyes rolled back into your head at the feeling of his mouth on you paired with his pretty words.
“What do you say, honey?” He said.
“Yes, sir.” You whispered.
He stopped himself from moving down further.
“Speak up darling, I couldn’t hear you.”
“Yes, sir.” You said again, louder.
“That’s better” He said, smiling. The bastard was enjoying this.
This was different than how he normally treated you. Typically the talking was him worshipping you, talking about how beautiful you are, being starstruck at how you look spread out before him. Tonight it was all of that, but with a hint of pure torture. You didn’t mind.
He slipped your pants and underwear off in one go, immediately pressing his lips to your core. He himself moaned at the feeling of his mouth on you, and the vibrations ripped through you, adding to your pleasure.
He continued to eat you out expertly and you began to inch closer and closer to your release, which anymore you were certain only Bill could get you to.
Your legs wrapped around Bill’s head, squeezing. You thought for sure he would scold you but he couldn’t bring his lips from you to do so. He just wrapped one arm around your left leg and the other hand pushed one finger into you and curled to hit your favorite spot. You almost screamed at the feeling. He pushed another finger in, still latched on to your clit with his mouth.
You quickly came all over him and he detached from you, smiling.
You smiled back at him and pulled him into a sweet kiss, and you tasted yourself all over his mouth. He deepended the kiss and pulled you as close to him as he could. He grabbed you and pulled you down onto his lap. You immediately soaked through his pants and felt his hard member up against you.
You kept kissing him, rocking against his clothed cock, until he couldn’t stand it and he yanked his pants down to around his knees. He looked into your eyes, asking you for consent. You nodded and his slipped inside you. It shocked you again how perfect he fit inside of you.
You bounced on him and he latched his mouth to your breast. You moaned at his mouth on you and his eyes looking up into yours. He was so perfect to you.
He spoke against your skin. “My pretty pretty girl.” He whispered. You couldn’t control yourself from grinding down on him the hardest that you could. He whimpered and tried to cover it up with a groan. You began to write your name with your hips and Bill’s eyes rolled back and he leaned his head against the couch.
“You are going to make me cum, honey.” He said.
You were close too, so you kissed him and placed his hand on your clit. He took your cue and rubbed vigoursly, making you immediately come and moan into his mouth. Hearing you finish made Bill follow you, shooting his hot seed into you.
“Shit.” He said, and quickly pulled out.
It took you a few moments to realize what happened.
“Bill, Bill, honey. It’s okay.” You said, trying to comfort him.
“I’m so sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean to. You felt so good and I forgot.” He said, guilt apparent in his eyes.
“Bill. Seriously, it’s okay. I’m okay.” You said. He calmed down after reassurance.
He smiled and picked you up and carried you to the bathroom. He started running some warm water and helped you get into the tub. You needed all the help you could get with how shaky your legs were. You soaked in the bathtub while he cleaned the living room up. When you were done, the bed was ready and you laid down just to fall asleep immediately.
~
After a week, your classes were beginning. You went to your last class of the day, improv. It was in the english building, and it took you a considerable amount of effort to not find Bill’s office. It was sort of a fantasy to give him head from under his desk, and maybe you’d get that chance someday, but today you were going to be late to class.
You walked into the lecture hall and there were only a few seats left. One in the back beside a jock and one in the front completely alone. You knew you learned better in the back; you didn’t like all of that attention on you. But would you rather sit next to some random guy or alone? You decided to go with the back row seat.
You knew almost nothing about this class, just what the registrar wrote on your new schedule, which was the room number and the building but that’s about it. With how busy you and Bill had both been, you hadn’t even asked him about which professor taught this course. With all of the issues plaguing the schools scheduling, it wouldn’t shock you if he didn’t know the answer to that either.
“Hey.” The jock next to you said. “We’re probably going to be sitting next to each other for the semester so I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Carson.”
“Nice to meet you.” You said with a small smile. You began to get your notebook out of your backpack when he continued to speak to you.
“Don’t you work at Bobby’s Diner? Me and my boys love to eat there.” He asked.
“I do.” You said.
“I knew I recognized you. Hey do you maybe want to…” He trailed off as the professor entered the room and loudly said “Hello class!”
Oh no.
Oh god please no.
The professor stood about six feet tall, with dark hair and light eyes. He was the most handsome man you had ever seen.
Bill.
“I’m excited to get started but today we have to do the introduction stuff first. I have copies of the syllabus to pass out, could I have a volunteer to help me out?”
Carson next to you shot up. “I got you Dr. H.”
He looked up to the back row. “Thank y-” He stopped abruptly as his eyes wandered to you next to his volunteer. You were sure your face mimicked the shocked and mildly terrified reaction that donned your handsome professor.
“Carson.” The jock next to you finished for him.
“Yes. Thank you Carson.” He said, eyes barely able to tear away from your horrified expression.
The rest of the class went so incredibly slowly. He did not look at you one time until the very end.
“I’m busy all day today, but my office hours are at the top of your syllabus, as well as the room number.” He looked at you. “Room 109 if you need anything. But please email me first, I have a life.” He said and the class giggled. You thought about all of the people in here, surely some of them wanted to get a piece of your professor. Hell, you did. It did make you a little jealous, but you knew you got to have him all to yourself.
The class ended and people began to shuffle out. Before you could leave to head to room 109, Carson stopped you.
“Hey, I didn’t get to finish earlier. I was wondering if you’d like to grab dinner sometime. Maybe we could practice our improv skills together.” He asked.
“Oh. Um, I’m pretty busy with work and classes but I’ll definitely let you know.” You said and smiled as you began to head for the door.
You decided to share a passing glance with Bill just to find him already looking at you. When you made eye contact, he quickly turned to his stack of papers. Something about the interaction caught you off guard, but you continued to the first floor to find his office.
His office was tucked away in the corner by a staircase no one used. It was the furthest from both the elevators and the main staircase, so it had much more privacy. He left it locked, so you waited outside of it for him to come down. When he did, he saw you and rushed to unlock the door and usher you inside of it.
The room did not look too different than his bedroom, filled with stacks of books. He also had one picture frame on his desk, which he pushed over as you walked in.
“What are you doing here? I thought we had to limit our time together on campus?” He asked, setting his papers on his desk.
“I think we can’t really avoid that now, can we?” You said. “What are we going to do? I need this class to graduate.”
“You’re going to take the class and we are going to be mature adults about it.” He said, not looking at you.
His lack of eye contact worried you. “Is everything okay?”
“Are you going to have a study date with Carson?” He said.
You laughed out loud. “No, probably not. I happen to have the best study partner around.” You said. He chuckled a bit and finally looked at you. After looking at him for a few seconds, you reached behind you and locked his door.
“What are you doing?” He said, knowing fully what you were doing.
“Sit down.” You ordered him. The idea that this fantasy of yours could potentially play out was making you desparate to touch him, despite how you wanted to appear.
He followed your orders, smirking all the way. He sat behind his big oak desk, eagerly waiting your next move.
You slowly walked over to him, setting your backpack down along the way. When you reached him, you gave him a chaste kiss and began pulling down his pants. You pulled them down to his ankles and began to palm his massive cock through his underwear, which was beginning to form a tent. Maybe he thought about this just as much as you had.
You got on your knees in front of him and pulled his boxers down. His eyes watched you all the way, pupils blown out in lust.
You took his dick in your hand and marveled at the size of it. He was way bigger than anyone else you’ve ever been with, and you knew he knew how to use it.
You placed a kiss to the tip, tasting the salty pre-cum that was forming, before slowly taking him in your mouth. He was so big that you had to use your hand to pleasure the remaining inches you couldn’t fit.
He tried and failed to groan quietly. You kept working him at a torturous pace.
“Honey, if you want to do anything else, you need to get that mouth off of me soon.” He breathily said.
You pulled off of him with a pop. “I want to taste you. All of you.” You said before returning your mouth to him and pumping him harder.
“Oh god.” He groaned and then placed one hand in your hair. He didn’t shove your head down, but just pulled your hair back into a ponytail to keep it out of the way. You felt yourself getting wetter and wetter but you knew you wouldn’t be getting that sort of treatment until later tonight.
He restrained himself from fucking your mouth, and you kept working at him until he started to twitch and you knew he was close.
You pulled off of him just to say. “Come for me professor.”
He groaned and you placed your mouth on him to collect all of his load that coated the inside of your mouth and throat. The taste of him was indescribable.
You pulled off of him and began straightening yourself up. After he collected himself, he too straightened up and grabbed your backpack off the floor. You had a shift at the diner you were going to be late for.
He placed a kiss to your forehead. You both knew you had a lot to work out, but you knew that this relationship was too good to throw in the towel. You’d work it out, you always do.
He smiled at you before unlocking his door. He whispered in your ear before you left.
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