#WELL SAID SHAWN HUNTER

[the-halfling-prince]

B plot of Brotherly Shove was so fucking funny because A. It was not resolved. They were having the most boring time together and did nothing about that. Shawn shows up at the garage sale and is like "Cory I'm having the most boring time I do not like spending time with this guy" and that was that. And B. Jack honest to God suggested that they go to either the gym (okay) or the Bank. The BANK. Like. For fun. Season seven destroyed my son and I hate it here.

[cityselcouth]

it isn't midnight yet

pairing: caleb x reader

summary: when you realise the shift in your feelings for Caleb isn't as new as you thought and nowhere as fleeting as you hoped, wanting him turns unbearable. now, it's fifteen minutes to midnight, his birthday is almost over, and all you know is that you don't want to spend any more time avoiding what could be.

themes: childhood friends to lovers, complicated relationship dynamincs, fluff, explicit smut, so much sexual tension and build up, yearning, canon compliant, petnames, profanity, lots of making out, implied first time but whatever, nipple sucking, fingering, oral (fem receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, floor sex like seriously they fuck all over it lmao, a smidge of edging, multiple rounds, yapping during sex, praise kink, mentions of events from farspace deprivation and references to his other cards, mc is painfully desperate which is accurate for this card, they match each others freak

wc: 16.3k (don't look at me i'm ashamed)

playlist: why by shawn mendes, i wanna be yours by the arctic monkeys, dress by taylor swift, ride by somo, birthday dance by josh levi

lyns notes: IGNORE HOW LATE THIS IS PLEASE AND THANK YOU. remember when this was supposed to be short? yep. this is my very self-indulgent adaptation of no-return night! i've watched the kindled so many times it should be considered shameful and needed to be insane about it. i've unlocked levels of down bad previously unknown to man, and i have channelled those exact vibes into mc. happy birthday caleb. god bless.

For as long as you could remember, Caleb had always been just out of your reach. 

In a literal sense, that was completely incorrect. Growing up with him under the same roof meant that all your earliest memories had him embedded in them in some way or another. He had always been around, always ready to catch you if you fell or show you the way back home if you ever got lost. Older, dependable, constant; there was no end to the number of ways you could describe his presence in your life. 

But for the past couple of months, the one you’d say fit the best would be confusing.

“Sooooo, when are you going to be in Skyhaven?”

You gripped your phone a little tighter, pressing a finger to the scanner of your door and pushing it open. “Who said I was coming to Skyhaven?”

“You’ve asked me about my schedule, and my birthday is this week. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.” Caleb’s voice took on that teasing lilt you were so familiar with, and you knew the face he was probably making right now: a knowing grin paired with a raise of his eyebrows. 

“So much for trying to surprise you,” you muttered, kicking off your shoes by the doorway and walking into your apartment. “Can’t you let me at least think I’ve succeeded for once?”

“No can do. Let me know when you’re arriving so I can pick you up.” You could practically hear the smile in his voice. You unzipped the front part of your hunter uniform and tossed the corset into the laundry basket, rolling your shoulders to release the tension you had been carrying around. 

“No.”

A pause. “No?”

“The least you can do is let my arrival be a surprise.” 

He chuckled softly, and for some maddening reason, the sound made you stop whatever you were doing and listen. “Alright.” He relented, light and airy, “I can’t wait to see you.”

The drop in his tone, the way he stressed the word, something about it all made you bite the inside of your cheek hard. “Me too,” you admitted after a second, ignoring how your throat had gone dry. “I uh….gotta go. Bye, Caleb.”

“See ya.”

Ending the call, you heaved a sigh of relief and collapsed onto your couch. You pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes and stayed like that for a couple of minutes, trying your hardest to calm the hammering of your heart. The feeling was similar to when you were running high on adrenaline while facing a particularly dangerous wanderer.

But why on earth were you experiencing that now? 

Well, it wasn’t just now. He’d say something sweet, or stare at you for a beat too long, and it would feel as if all the air had been knocked out of your lungs, which confused you to no end. You had always known Caleb was a charming person; it was pretty obvious from how popular he had been in school as well as during his university days, but for the most part, you had been fairly immune. 

Lately, however, it seemed like that immunity of yours had worn off, and with it, the rose-tinted glasses you had been wearing your entire childhood when it came to him. As a child, you had thought that his tendency to hover around you and need to always be by your side was simply because he was fond of you. He was the older kid who had to take care of you, and for a while, you had assumed he looked at it as some sort of duty.

But now….

Caleb was the most important person in your life. When the explosion took place and he had been ripped out of it, the grief you felt was insurmountable. You could hardly process the fact that the boy you had turned to for everything was gone, leaving you with a gaping void in your heart that you couldn’t fill, no matter how much you tried. Even throwing yourself into your work hadn’t helped soothe the pain of losing him, because he was so intertwined with everything that made you you, from the way you carried yourself to how you held your gun. 

And then he returned from the dead, except he hadn’t ever actually been dead. The light in his eyes had dimmed, and he donned a uniform that turned him into someone you hardly recognised, but it was still him. The very same Caleb who faced danger with you now tried his hardest to keep you from it, terrified that he’d lose you. He held you tighter, kept you closer, and the way he looked at you was the same as it had always been, but there was something much more intense about it. Less subtle.

It wasn’t like you were any better. All the secrets he seemed to be keeping drove you crazy, and even when he was right in front of you, it still felt like he was worlds apart. You did everything you could to keep him as close as you could, to understand him better, even when it consisted of putting yourself in danger. The fiasco with the chip had been impulsive and risky, but he had gotten you out of it and still didn’t know you remembered everything that had happened. 

Perhaps it was the shock of losing him and then getting him back that caused something to shift inside of you. Now, you noticed how he lingered, feeling it in your bones every time he was around. His touch would have you freeze and hesitate in ways you never would have before. It wasn’t just innocent admiration you held for him anymore; it was much deeper than you thought it could be. At first, you told yourself it was just because you were so relieved to have him back, but as they grew more intense, you knew that those feelings were here to stay.

The territory you were navigating was so unfamiliar, and as a result, you shied away from your feelings time and time again. He’d get closer, and you’d take three steps back, forcing yourself to turn a blind eye to what was right in front of you in order to avoid messing up what you already had. You so badly wanted him to let you in, but constantly stumbled back whenever you felt yourself getting too close to the truth.

And Caleb never crossed the line. It didn’t matter how long he stared or how close he’d pull you, the moment you hesitated, he’d let you go. 

You weren’t as hopelessly oblivious as you let on; you were aware of how he felt because his feelings were a mirror of your own, even if you refused to look at them. You could see it in his eyes, how they’d narrow and go slightly hazy when he looked at you for too long. How his jaw would clench and his throat would bob, like he was fighting a war with his mind. 

Being with him was the most natural thing in the world to you, but it was moments like those that made you feel greedy for more. Your feelings for him weren’t platonic anymore.

And maybe they had never been platonic in the first place. Not really, anyway. Just friends didn’t use your body wash because it smelled like you, or promise not to get a girlfriend because you and Gran were all he needed. Friends didn’t pretend to date each other to ward off other people, and they definitely didn’t get jealous when the other paid attention to someone else. 

Opening your eyes, you aimlessly stared at the ceiling as thoughts of Caleb rolled around in your head. Thinking of him like this had originally filled you with immense guilt, considering the history you shared and how fragile everything had seemed when he reappeared. It felt almost forbidden to want more, a fruit you desperately wanted to taste but were instructed never to touch. It hung from a tree whose branches were much too high for you to reach, even when you stood on your tip-toes.

Just out of reach. 

Sitting up, you pulled yourself together and decided to focus on the task at hand. Caleb’s birthday was in less than a week, and you still had absolutely no idea what you were going to give him as a gift. Frustratingly enough, Caleb was the type of person to never talk about the things he wanted. The two of you had spent almost every birthday together, so you had pretty much given him every gift you could think he’d like, and you didn’t think he needed another three thousand-piece model to put together.

Your life would be so much easier if he were straight with you and just said what he wanted.

About gifts, of course. Nothing else.

“Should I call Gideon?”

Caleb sighed, leaning back in his chair as he examined the hologram reports in front of him half-heartedly. “Why?”

“What do you mean, ‘why’? He’s your friend, that’s why.” You snickered on the other end of the call. He could hear you shuffling around in your apartment, knowing how you could never stay still for more than ten minutes. 

“And?”

“I’m trying to plan a party for you.” You said, so obviously exasperated by his demeanour. “Can you not make my job harder?”

He smiled to himself at your grumbling, “Where's the fun in that? Besides, I don’t even want a party. Who else would I even call? Liam?”

Your silence spoke louder than your words ever could. “Right, but I still want to do something big for your birthday.” The pout that was undoubtedly on your lips was audible in the way you spoke, stubborn and insistent. “I want it to be special. It’s the first time we’re celebrating your birthday after… you know.”

Of course, he knew. 

“Have you considered that I only want to celebrate with you?” 

The statement was reckless, but he couldn’t help but indulge in that selfish wish. His twenty-fifth birthday had been one he spent up above the clouds in Skyhaven, alone, and supposedly dead to all who knew him. Honestly, he couldn’t have cared less about other people, but not having you by his side was the thing that hit him the hardest. Now, most of the people he had once called friends still thought he was dead, and his old life was nothing more than a distant memory.

You were all he had.

“Are you sure?” 

You sounded uncertain, like you couldn’t fathom the idea. When you were younger, he always had a party of some sort, and with his high school popularity, he was constantly surrounded by friends, but none of them ever held a candle to you. At the end of each birthday, it would always just be him and you, sneaking off to be away from the crowd and only with each other. As time went on, this tradition dwindled until the chance to get away from it all disappeared.

Even now, it sometimes felt as if he was running out of time; every second with you felt fleeting and precious. He wanted so badly to make up for the ten months he had been out of your life for, because when he found you again, there was so much he realised he didn’t know anymore. 

“It’ll be special if you’re there,” he swiped the reports away. “That’s all I want.”

There was a time when he was sure he’d never be able to let himself want more, even when he subconsciously let himself have it. Every time he pushed against the boundaries he had set for himself, you let him through without a single complaint, even pulling him closer when you didn’t quite understand what you were doing. 

“You’re always so greedy when it comes to my time.” The affectionate lilt in your voice made itself known even through the forced annoyance. He smiled

“You always let me be.”

To say you were frustrated would be an understatement. 

Caleb’s birthday, on all accounts, should have been considered a success. He wore the outfit you had gotten him, he loved the cake, and even the movie screening you had planned worked out pretty well, even if the movie was pretty boring. He seemed overjoyed at every little thing you had done, but to you, the day had felt like a repeat of every other birthday you had celebrated in the past. 

And as a result, as any well-adjusted person would, you had acted like a total lunatic the entire day. 

Instance number one: When he hugged you and said that the new outfit needed your scent on it for people to know you were together. You heard those words and instantly froze, your brain running at a mile a minute at the implication of it, even when you knew that the two of you weren’t actually together. 

Number two: “Eyes on the road.”

Getting caught staring at his chest had to be one of the top ten most embarrassing moments of your life. Honestly, who could blame you when that robot had announced it so loudly? Curiosity was a natural thing, and you were simply fulfilling that, but you were sure he hadn’t missed the follow-up glances you had taken, even if you had done your best to be subtle. Perhaps he hadn’t called you out those times for your sake. 

You didn’t even want to think about the way you shivered when he confessed he was always jealous. Pathetic. Mortifying. You were sure you were going insane, or something along those lines. 

Number three: your incessant questioning. Asking if he was enjoying his birthday, if it had all been to his liking and if he was having a good time over and over again, so anxious. He even asked you if the answer to that question was important to you for some reason. 

Damn him for being able to read you so well. As always, he was right, but it wasn’t the question that you felt was important, but rather the answer that would follow. You desperately wanted to know if he was content with how his birthday was going so far, or if he wanted more. 

But then you glanced at his shelves and caught sight of all the frames, each one having pictures of him and you. You on his back, another with you kissing his cheek at your graduation, him holding the back of your head as he looked down at you with a look in his eyes so achingly familiar that it made you snap out of it. You recalled how, instead of telling him why the question was important, you began talking. 

“Before…” you trailed off, swallowing the knot that appeared in your throat every time you spoke of the explosion. “I took you for granted. You were like the sun, and the sun is just in the sky, always shining. It’s a part of my life, so I assumed it would always be there.” In all honesty, you weren’t sure if you were making any sense, but you couldn’t exactly stop now.

A half smile laced his lips. “I see we’re talking about a very serious topic now.” 

You did your best to appear as casual as possible, ignoring the way your heart hammered in your chest as you shrugged slightly. He instantly saw through the facade, and in typical Caleb fashion, poked your cheek playfully, leaning down just a little bit. “The sun doesn’t cease to exist just because you forgot to look up. It’ll always shine wherever you can see it.”

You stared at him when he said that, taking in everything about him. The reassuring squeeze on your shoulder, the gentle way he said it, and in that moment, you saw the Caleb you grew up with. The boy who did his utmost to protect you at every corner, the one whose hand you held onto whenever you had a nightmare and couldn’t go back to sleep without him crawling into your bed and holding you. Admirable, dependable, something worthwhile looking up to. 

“But back then, I never thought about how the sun might feel a little lonely, up there all by itself.” Always waiting on you to catch up, but never making it an expectation. You glanced down at your lap as he exhaled in surprise at your revelation, thinking of how even now, just like the sun, he felt so out of reach, even though he was right next to you, forbidden for you to touch. 

“Maybe what drew me in was never the sun or its light. It was just you, Caleb. Even if you’re a dim white dwarf, a supernova, or a bunch of ruins….I wouldn’t care.”

Everything you said felt wrong. Too heavy on your tongue. A confession that would burn your tongue if you ever stripped it back and spoke the truth of it out loud. You didn’t even know if it was okay for you to say all this, however much you draped it in metaphors and flowery language. 

He seemed to be stunned into silence, and taking advantage of this, you forged on. “No matter what happens in the future, I just want us to stay like this.” You wrapped your arms around him, settling into the familiar cocoon of his embrace. “To be able to hold you close.”

There was something so painfully delicate between Caleb and you. A fault line of sorts that you usually tread on as carefully as you could, but today, you had stomped all over it without any grace whatsoever. 

“Y/n.” He breathed out your name after what felt like ages, leaning down until his mouth was just by your ear. “Time and time again, you’ve always allowed me to want more than what I thought was possible.” You could feel his breath on your skin, making your mind go completely blank with its warmth, your own breath hitching as he hugged you back. 

It still wasn’t enough.

That conversation replayed in your head, frustration churning around inside of you until it felt like it was at a boiling point. How else were you supposed to explain any of that behaviour, other than chalking it up to utter lunacy?

Freshly showered, you now stood in front of the mirror, feeling more ridiculous than ever. A sense of restlessness simmered in your veins like an itch you couldn’t quite reach, warming your skin with an insatiable heat. Moonlight streamed through the windows of your room, illuminating the space enough for you not to have to switch any lights on as you inspected your reflection. 

The dress you had on right now was a gorgeous baby blue number that stopped a little above your mid-thigh, made of tastefully shimmery fabric. The straps were black ribbons, tied in pretty bows on top of your shoulders and wrapping you up like a present, deliberately chosen by you for that very detail. It matched the outfit you had picked out for him, but you hadn’t dared to wear it earlier. You even had shoes on, a pretty pair of black Mary Janes that tied the look together.

So there you were, all dolled up after showering and feeling like a total idiot, because what insane person made themselves a gift for someone they weren’t even with? The decision to purchase it had been an impulsive one, the result of another night filled with pent-up yearning and a need for your best friend that you still didn’t dare acknowledge.

Because he was Caleb,  those violet eyes you’ve grown up being watched by and that mischievous grin you had imprinted in your mind, completely impossible to forget. Your Caleb, but not exactly.

If Caleb was the sun, then you were Icarus.

And now, it was eleven forty-five p.m.

Fifteen minutes to midnight. Fifteen minutes until his birthday was over, and as the seconds passed, you could feel yourself being pulled away from the magic of the day. Your cowardice had won, keeping you from acting on all the feelings you had for him out of fear of ruining what you already had. 

Perhaps this was how it was meant to be. What you were so afraid to want was an idea you had only ever let yourself entertain in your dreams, and dreams belonged to the shade of night. Tomorrow would come, those dreams would be forgotten, and everything would go back to normal. Briefly, you allowed yourself to wonder if he was thinking of you right now, like you were thinking of him. When he closed his eyes tonight and fell asleep, would he dream of you too?

You turned away from the mirror and looked around the rest of the room, feeling extremely foolish. Crouching down, you began to unbuckle your heels when–

Footsteps.

You stilled, knowing that the only person the footsteps could have belonged to was Caleb. You had thought that you were the only one awake, but it seemed like he couldn’t sleep either. 

Was there a chance that he was awake for the same reasons as you? Momentarily, you wondered if he was just as frustrated as you were with how today had gone; exactly the same as all the years that had come before– all except for one little thing.

He hadn’t called you Pipsqueak. 

All your life, you had been his Pipsqueak, Pips, his one and only.  You couldn’t remember where the nickname had come from or when he had started using it, but it was a constant in the same way his presence was. You didn’t think you’d tolerate it from anyone but him, but now that you thought about it, he hadn’t called you that for a good while. It had just been your name, plain and simple.

Shutting your eyes, you let yourself be pulled back into that moment from an hour ago, with him holding you in his arms like letting you go would be a crime. You could still feel the warmth of his body through the layers of his clothing, and his heart beating in his chest. You could smell his cologne, and feel the sensation of his breath on your cheek as you held you close, so painfully aware of him as he overtook your every sense. 

The memory wasn’t enough, and right there, with fifteen minutes left for his birthday to be over, you knew that it would never be. 

Greed was a sin, and you were guilty. You wanted more than just the fleeting stares and charged tension that drove you crazy with anticipation for something you knew was never going to come. You were sick of waiting around when it was so clear he wanted what you did, too: to cross that line you had been balancing on for so long now. You wanted to feel his skin underneath your fingertips and sink into your emotions instead of hiding them. 

You wanted him.

The moonlight reflected off the candy tin that sat on your bedside table. Refusing to let yourself overthink this any longer, you picked it up and made your way to the living room.

Caleb was leaning back on the couch, legs spread, one arm draped over a cushion as his fingers drummed against it, and the other toying with the dog tag of his necklace. He hadn’t noticed you standing in the doorway just yet, his eyes trained on the tag pendant with something akin to reverence. He hadn’t even changed yet. 

The sight made your breath catch.

How many nights had he sat like this, looking at that necklace the same way he looked at you? You didn’t want it to be the only part of you he thought he had, because you wanted him to have it all, just as you wanted all of him. 

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you padded over to him. Immediately, his attention snapped to you as he let go of the pendant, a faint smile tickling his lips at your intrusion. 

“Is this the post-credits scene?”

Of course, he’d make a movie pun. Typically, his goofy one-liners would soothe any frayed nerves, but nothing of the sort happened this time.

“I just….remembered I haven’t given you your gift yet.” You said, mentally chastising yourself for how awkward your voice sounded. His eyes trailed over your figure appreciatively, taking in the sight of you in the dress that so obviously matched what he wore. 

“Right.” He sat forward, rested an arm on his knee, and looked away from you to collect himself, before that easy-going demeanour of his resurfaced once more. The switch was so subtle that if you weren’t so well-versed in every little thing about him, you might not have caught it.  “Well, I’m here.” 

Biting your lower lip, you took another step forward and held out the tin of candy. A minute ago, using it as your excuse had seemed like a good idea, but not anymore. More than anything, you just felt silly. 

Caleb blinked, taken aback at the way you thrust the tin in his direction. Scepticism bled into his expression as he stared at it, and then up at you, trying to figure out what you were playing at. He knew you like the back of his hand, and that included your tells for when you were hiding something, all of which you were currently exhibiting. From your shifty eyes to the way you were biting the inside of your cheek, he had seen it all before. 

He took the candy tin from your hand but kept his eyes on you. The intensity of his stare made that hesitation you were fighting against surge back, and suddenly, you were once again questioning if this was a good idea at all. What if it was too soon? 

“Now that you have your present, I should get to bed.” 

You stumbled over the words clumsily, wanting to get them out as quickly as possible so you could leave and abandon what you had started. Honestly, why on earth did you never think turning yourself into his gift would be a good idea? More importantly, where the hell did you get the short-lived confidence to go through with it? Spinning on your heels to leave the room, you felt an embarrassed flush of heat curl up your neck and travel to the apples of your cheeks, ashamed of yourself. 

He caught your wrist.

All these years, and nothing had changed about you when it came to wanting something but being too shy to ask for it. He had played dumb the whole day, despite being well aware of why your behaviour was so erratic. You were a language he was fluent in, and if there was one thing he was well-versed with, it was wanting you, and from the familiar look in your eyes that reflected what he so often saw in his own, he could only assume one thing. 

But he didn’t do a damn thing about it. At the end of the day, assumptions were just that, no matter how glaringly obvious the answer might have been. He held you close, but he had the patience of a saint and would wait as long as you needed him to.

For a moment, he loosened his grip on your wrist, giving you an out. The silent question was crystal clear through his actions: you could leave if you really wanted to and go to bed….or you could stay.

The two of you had spent your lives running after one another, pulling and pushing, locked in a stalemate of your own making. This was the first time you had ever tried to break free from it, and the first time he had ever tried to keep you there with him. Every other time, he had taken a step back the moment you were spooked, but now….

You didn’t take another step.

When he sensed that you had made your decision, he tightened his fingers around you and pulled you back, closer, until you were perched on one of his legs. You flailed for a second, steadying yourself by placing a hand on his shoulder, the sudden closeness making your mouth go dry.

“You used to always watch me open your gifts.”

He was too close. He wasn’t close enough. The low, knowing timbre of his voice made your head swim, and you barely even noticed how he wrapped his right arm around your waist until he tugged you even closer while he spoke, “And say how much I like them.”

Suddenly, your nose was right by his, almost brushing against each other. Your sharp intake of air wasn’t lost on him, nor was the way you rushed to compose yourself, readjusting your position on his lap so that you weren’t all up in his face. His arm remained secure around your waist, helping you maintain your balance on his thigh. 

Caleb popped open the lid of the tin and held it out to you, pinning you in place with a single look. “It’s not midnight yet. Don’t leave me, not until my birthday’s over.”

Keeping you close had always been of utmost importance to him. You had grown accustomed to him asking you to stay, not to leave, as if he lived every day thinking that you might. 

You were determined to prove him wrong. Picking up a yellow piece of candy from the scatter of other colourful ones inside, you pressed it to the seam of his lips and fed it to him, not daring to break eye contact even for a second, lest it break the spell both of you seemed to be under. Caleb winced once it was on his tongue and narrowed his eyes at you playfully, but there was no mistaking the heat that lay just under the surface of his gaze.

“Lemon flavoured,” he scoffed, equal parts disbelief and amusement, placing the tin on the coffee table. “Whenever you give me candy, it's always the sourest one.” 

Hand back on his shoulder, you succumbed to his gravitational pull and leaned a little closer. “Don’t you like sour things?”

Growing up, you had watched him always grab the sour-flavoured things, from candy to even the sodas he had. Every time he needed to concentrate on something, he’d chew on a lemon slice. He had even suggested that little trick to you several times, insisting that it worked, and you watched and took it all in, just like you did for everything about him. You tucked the information away in your mind and subconsciously made use of it. 

So now, with the way he called you out, you found yourself wondering if he even liked sour things. Caleb saw through your misconception immediately, biting back a smile at your evident uncertainty. The tartness of anything sour helped him focus and grounded him to the moment, but it was by no means a preference. If anything, it was a reflex, one he had developed over the years of denying himself anything sweet.

And the sweetest thing of all was you.

“I think I’ll look forward to more changes after we celebrate this birthday.”

Emboldened, you brought your hand to his mouth, gently brushing the pad of your thumb over the plush of his lower lip. “You can give it to me if you don’t like it.” 

This was as explicit as you were going to get when it came to asking for what you wanted so bad, and he knew it. The ball was in his court, and there was no turning back from here, not anymore. You watched as his gaze sharpened, peering into his horizon coloured eyes as his pupils dilated at the invitation concealed in your words.

His palm found your jaw with such gentleness that it astounded you, causing you to stiffen under his touch. It wasn’t as if he had never touched you before – your relationship (or lack thereof) had always been pretty physically affectionate, so the proximity should not have made you so nervous, but this was so starkly different from every other time he had invaded your personal space. This felt far more intimate than anything you had ever experienced before, and your breath hitched in your throat when he leaned in, a quiet sound escaping him. 

Helpless, frantic even, needing you like he needed air to breathe. It encompassed everything you felt for him and more. For a brief moment, the world seemed to stand still. Time wasn’t real and didn’t have any impact on either of you as your breaths mingled and a heavy silence settled. His gaze, dark and telling, dropped to your lips, ones you had swiped lip gloss on in naive hope of this, his own parting as he looked into your eyes once more. 

And then, when the clock of life resumed its course, Caleb dipped his head and pressed his mouth to yours. 

You had imagined this happening dozens of times, even before you fully understood the depth of your feelings for him, but your little daydreams didn’t come close to the real thing. Your mind screeched to a grinding halt the moment it happened because holy shit, Caleb was kissing you. 

But the rest of you? The rest of you acted on instinct, all that pent-up yearning for this exact moment coming out all at once. His lips were slightly chapped, but you didn’t care. There was an unmistakable sense of tentativeness to the way he kissed you, only going so far as to press his lips to yours over and over.

You could hardly believe he was actually kissing you, after all the times it had almost happened, only for him to pull away last minute, and that disbelief translated into your body language. Hesitantly, you lifted your hand from his shoulder, letting it hover there awkwardly for a couple of seconds as you kissed him back. Your scattered thoughts slowly came back to you, coalescing until all you were thinking of was him.

When you were sure it was real, you curled your fingers around the nape of his neck and pulled him closer.

Something shifted in that moment, something that neither of you could ever come back from and didn’t particularly care to. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he slanted them over yours, before pulling away just enough to be able to look you in the eyes, half-lidded and swirling with longing. He dragged his thumb over your cheekbone, caressing you like you were a work of art, a marble statue that he was lucky enough to touch, and tilted his head to the other side, capturing your lips once again.

There wasn’t a single trace of his earlier hesitation in this kiss, and the contrast made your head spin. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you melted into him, hyperaware of every little thing he did, and how he tugged you into him. Caleb sucked your lower lip in between his, his tongue sweeping across the plush of it and chasing after yours. You could taste the sour aftertaste that lingered as he plundered your mouth with a desperation that mirrored your own and was still, somehow, controlled. His grip on your face tightened ever so slightly, and you faintly registered him gulping. 

Did he just–

Did he just swallow the fucking candy?

When the two of you broke apart, you knew right then and there that everything had changed. One glance at him revealed to you just how wrecked he was from the kiss, breathing heavily and eyes burning with an intensity that had your lungs empty themselves of all the air inside them.

“Y/n.” Caleb’s voice had gotten lower, huskier.  “I know that’s not your gift.”

Of course, he had figured it out. It wasn’t like you had been subtle about it, but you felt caught nonetheless, cheeks flushing with tell-tale warmth. Your flustered state only seemed to egg him on further, with him tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear as he continued. “I’ll twist your words on purpose and use them to catch you.” 

Although he phrased it like a confession, it wasn’t like this was the first time he was doing it. You were well aware of his habit of driving you into a corner to get you to speak your mind, after all, he had done it all day today, and yet you still indulged him. He and you were two sides of the same coin, crazy about each other in ways that others would never be able to understand, but unable to let it show outright for the longest time. Now that it was all out in the open, a newfound sense of confidence surged through you.

“Go on then,” You pushed him onto his back by his shoulders, your hair falling around your face and framing it like a halo as you gazed down, savouring the surprise that flickered in those all-consuming eyes of his. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Caleb’s earlier self-assuredness seemed to fade at your assumption of control in that moment as he stared up at you, wide-eyed and wanting. You took advantage of the moment, for it wasn’t very often that you left him tongue-tied, your palm cradling the side of his face. 

“Wherever you are, what I always want is for you to be drawn to me…” The words left you in a delicate whisper, like a sinner confessing to her wrongdoings, kissing him chastely as if you were trying to imprint the moment into your memory. “With the weakest gravitational pull.”

Now that was a real confession, one that he had spent most of his waking moments wishing for but never expecting to happen. One edge of his mouth curled upwards in a half-smile.

“Gravity can’t be held responsible for people who fall in love.” The statement took root in your very soul, and it was like a weight had rolled off your shoulders at the acknowledgement. You loved him, so deep and true, and had spent what felt like an eternity fighting against those feelings. In this moment, however, you felt as light as a bird, as if that gravity he had so rightly accused you of blaming had vanished. He reached up, tracing the side of your face with such devotion that it made your chest ache. 

“I’ll remember more than just this.” A promise that he sealed by pressing your knuckles to his lips affectionately. “I’ll always remember that these things came from you.”

You, who were his every dream and wish for as far back as he could recall. All those years of wishing for you on his birthday, hoping that he’d one day have you like this as he blew out the candles, had turned into reality. When morning came, he wouldn’t have to hold onto rapidly fading memories of that fleeting dream anymore. 

You descended upon him eagerly, resuming getting lost in him before he even had the chance to hold you properly. While Caleb had years under his belt when it came to practising restraint and keeping his feelings in check, yours were painfully fresh, effervescent in ways you couldn’t control just yet. They bubbled over the top, bursting forth like soda from a thoroughly shaken bottle.

When the two of you inevitably rolled off the couch, you almost laughed at the absurdity of it, but he didn’t give you the chance with how demanding his kisses were. One hand cradled the back of your head to make sure that you didn’t get hurt, because he was your protector first, and everything else came after. You barely registered one of you hitting the edge of the coffee table, causing the candy tin to fall off, all its contents scattering around on the floor. 

Nothing else mattered, just you and him. 

Caleb braced himself over you, pulling away from the temptation that was your mouth to look down at you. Fingers intertwined with yours as he pressed the back of your hand against the floor, he couldn’t stop doubt from rushing back in, because how could this be real? It felt too good to be true, even though the warmth of your hand under his told him that he was wide awake. He focused on how your hands looked when interlocked, thinking back to all the times he had only let himself hold your hand in secret, when you were asleep and none the wiser.

A single piece of hard candy rolled over to where your hands lay – lemon flavoured, because of course it was. A scoff escaped him at the irony, but its clattering pulled him out of his scepticism-addled mind. 

“See?” He lifted your other hand and pressed it to his chest, the spot right over where his heart lay. “This is how you draw me in every time without fail.” 

He took your chin between his index finger and thumb, not allowing you to respond as he kissed you again, but it was different this time. It was slow, like he was taking his time to memorise how you felt against him. The pendants of his necklace clinked against each other and grazed your collarbone, the cool metal serving as an anchor and keeping you somewhat grounded.

There really wasn’t much space between the coffee table and his couch, which resulted in the position both of you were in right now, with him in between your folded legs. The realisation made the temperature in the room go up several notches, and you squeezed his hand before whispering against his lips. 

“Happy birthday, Caleb.”

His breath hitched as he pulled away, making a show of leaning back to sit on his heels and rubbing a hand over his face. “Y/n….” 

The heat in his voice was not lost on you, making you grin. You propped yourself up on your elbows, batting your eyelashes innocently, as if you were completely unaware of what you were doing. “What? I can’t wish you now?”

But Caleb was well-versed in all your little games, having been the one to play them for the majority of his life. “You can,” He murmured, resting a hand on your knee. “You know very well you can do anything you want to me.” 

What the hell. How could he say such a thing so casually? You felt positively insane at the combination of his words and his palm on your skin, your dress riding up your thighs just a tad. He knew what you were playing at, and if the air between him and you had been heavy with unresolved tension before, it was borderline electric now. 

“This is more about what you want. It’s your birthday.” You reminded him of the fact, waiting with baited breath for the choice he would make. It was probably past midnight at this point, but you didn’t care, and the sentiment remained the same.

He hummed, his hand slipping down your leg to your calf, over the thin fabric of your knee-high socks. “I think I want to kiss you all night.”

An indignant sound from your end. “Thats it?”

You were pouting. He couldn’t help but chuckle at how adorable you looked right then. 

“You underestimate how long I’ve been waiting to kiss you,” He said earnestly, before his tone switched into something much more patronising. “What? Were you expecting something more?”

You sat up properly, pulling your legs to yourself and levelling him with a glare. “You’re so–”

Caleb tutted immediately at your withdrawal, knowing fully well he was pushing your buttons and enjoying every second of it. He reached out, hands on your waist as he pulled you towards him once more– and you let him, quickly adapting to his lap. “Play nice. Can’t be mean to the birthday boy, now can you?”

“The birthday boy is annoying.”

“And you’re still here, aren’t you?”

As if you’d rather be anywhere else. As if you’d choose anyone else to be with. You huffed, spreading your hands out over his chest as you tried to tune out the impatient voice in your head that wanted you to take his jacket off. You settled for straddling him instead. “I can leave. Go to bed.” 

“You won’t.” The smirk that decorated his mouth, a mouth that you had just kissed, was nothing short of devilish. If you were standing, your knees would have buckled at the mere sight of it. “You don’t want to.” 

Well. He got you there. 

Caleb let his fingertips wander, slipping under the hem of your dress and caressing the skin there with a maddeningly light touch. Leaning forward, he turned his head to your neck and let his lips brush against your earlobe, delighting in the shiver it sent through your smaller frame. 

“Do I get to unwrap my present now?”

Any smart retort you had about wanting to leave flew right out of your mind at his question, the smooth cadence of his voice having anticipation thrum through your veins. It was the way he sounded so sure of himself that riled you up even more, that previous heat rushing back and dancing in the minimal space between both of your bodies, present even with his incessant teasing.

All you could manage was a sharp nod, your desperation for him returning with a vengeance. The heat emanating from your skin was like a drug to him, one that he couldn’t help but indulge, his lips brushing against your pulse point and breathing against it, making you feel near feverish.

“Words,” he instructed, like they were an easy thing to form while he slowly made you lose your train of thought. “I need you to say you want this, pretty girl.”

He was insane to think that you didn’t. You wet your lips, flustered. “I want it.” 

You could feel his lips curl upwards against your skin, one hand sliding up your side and to your shoulder. He then paused, simply toying with the ribbon there for a couple of excruciating seconds, before finally tugging and undoing the bow you had tied. One side of the top of your dress slipped a little lower, and all you could do was bite down on the plush of your lower lip as he repeated the action on the other side, simultaneously loving and hating how he was taking his time. 

The shimmery blue fabric dropped to your midriff, revealing your second surprise: a pale blue lacy bra adorning your skin, a pretty thing you had purchased for the sole purpose of driving the man you were currently sitting atop crazy. He pulled away from your neck, his eyes widening by a fraction as his gaze turned smouldering, his entire form stiffening as he took in the sight of it. 

“Fuck,” he rapsed out, “Are you trying to kill me?”

“You don’t like it?” You cocked your head to the side, knowing damn well the opposite was true and acting coquettish to cover up just how violently your nerves were acting up despite that fact. 

“I like it too much. That’s the problem.” He pulled his gaze away from your lace-clad chest, forcing himself to look you in the eyes and allowing you to see the depth of the emotion that lay in his. It felt as if you were looking right at the heel of a fire as it consumed everything in its path, molten and heavy. To call it desire would have been a disservice, because it was clearly so much more than just that. It was barely concealed longing and awe, and the very thing you had been fighting for as long as you could remember. 

It was love.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he repeated, his hand coming up to cup your jaw with tenderness that had your heart stuttering. “God, you have no idea how long I’ve been imagining this for.” 

Vulnerability cut through the haze of lust that had enveloped him and you, and you were struck by just how quiet his voice had gotten. How he looked at you like you were some divine being he had the blessing to be in the presence of, devoted and mesmerised all at once. Had he always stared at you with such reverence?

“Caleb…” He shook his head as you trailed off. 

“I just–” he swallowed thickly, struggling to get the words out. You recognised the look in his eyes, that barely concealed restraint they always possessed when you got too close, just before he’d pull away and shut down. “I don’t want this to be just–”

“It won’t be. It isn’t.” You caught wind of where he was going with this and shut it down immediately. “Caleb, I don’t just want this, I want you. All of you.”

Exhaling slowly, he let his hands drop to your waist, squeezing lightly. When he spoke, his voice was gravelly. “I’ve imagined you saying that too.”

You wrapped your fingers around his tie, tugging him closer until his nose brushed against yours and you were almost kissing again, but not quite. He was in his head, and you were determined to pull him out of it and bring him back to the present. “Show me what else you’ve imagined?”

He didn’t have to be asked twice.

Caleb met you halfway, kissing you like he was making up for all the times he couldn’t. His lips travelled down your jaw and to your neck, every little nip he gave your skin sending sparks shooting down right to your core. You squirmed in his lap, tipping your head to give him easier access, your obvious eagerness earning a groan in response.

Like a flip had been switched, he lifted you off of him, resuming his earlier position of him being on top as your back met the carpet on his floor once more. His kisses turned hot and open-mouthed, leaving trails of warmth along your fevered skin as his lips moved lower, teeth grazing the junction where your neck and shoulder met. The simple, barely there contact had a shudder run through your body, and you gripped the lapels of his jacket, needing something to hold onto you. 

“Can I touch you?” He asked softly, never wanting to cross any lines you weren’t comfortable with. The thought of him touching you made your head spin, and at your dazed nod, he slowly pushed the skirt part of your dress up, letting it bunch up around your waist. Arousal pooled in the pit of your stomach, hot and sticky, its tendrils spreading through your lower body and leaving your panties damp. 

Panties that, upon seeing, had him cursing under his breath. They matched the bra you wore, telling him just how much you had thought about because– shit, you were in a matching set of lingerie. 

“Yeah, you’re trying to kill me,” he muttered, dropping his head to your chest. You couldn’t help the breathy giggle that left you, the strands of his inky hair tickling the skin of your collarbone. “You’re stunning. Is this all for me?”

“Do you see anyone else around?”

“Good to know you still insist on sassing me even like this,” he muttered wryly, his hand wandering up your thigh and dipping onto the inner side of it. Before you could think about refuting that statement, he began kissing the swell of your breast, trailing downwards and then wrapping his lips around your clothed nipple. Wetness from his tongue seeped through the lace as he swirled it around the already-stiff peak, and as if on instinct, your legs fell further apart, eyes screwing shut. 

He hummed, evidently pleased at your reaction, tugging the bra cup holding your other breast down, exposing the pillowy flesh underneath. Shifting his attention from the one he had been teasing, he gave your other nipple the same treatment, licking, sucking and teasing until you were writhing underneath him, breathing shaky and uneven. 

Caleb dragged his fingertips up the tantalising expanse of your inner thigh, inching closer to where you wanted him most as he continued his ministrations on your breasts. Running his teeth over your nipple, he gently bit down on the sensitive peak, catching you off guard and drawing out a needy whimper from the back of your throat. 

“Caleb,” you barely recognised your voice with how whiny you sounded. “Please just–”

But the rest of your impatient plea would never be heard, because he chose that exact moment to slip his hand up the rest of your thigh and press his fingers against your clothed core. You sucked in a sharp breath, your hips jerking into his touch desperately. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he mumbled against your overheated skin. “Have you been like this the entire time?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, far too turned on to be embarrassed by the fact. “Please hurry up and do something.”

He shot you a wolfish grin at your whining, rubbing the pads of his fingers against your covered folds and gaining a feel for just how desperate you were for him. You looked so fucking pretty like this, spread out and wrecked even when he had barely done anything to you yet, and still begging him for more. The sight was something straight out of a wet dream to him, every bit as sinful and perfect as he had imagined. “So impatient. Won’t you let me take my time with my gift?” 

“We have the whole night for you to take your time,” you shot back, and the implication made his eyes darken considerably. Without wasting another second, he pushed your soaked panties to the side and dipped two fingers in between your folds, letting out a disbelieving puff of air now that he could feel how wet you were directly. Slick collected on his fingers, he swiped it through, bringing it up to your already sensitive clit and applying just the right amount of pressure to make you mewl. 

“The whole night, huh?” Caleb kissed the hollow of your neck, and then higher. “Showing you everything I’ve imagined might actually take that long.”

You scrambled to grasp at his arms as he began to rub your clit, your entire body reacting to the touch like it was programmed for him and him alone. He watched in fascination, drinking in every lovely sound you made, from delectable sighs to restless moans. It wasn’t like he intended on being a tease, but he couldn’t help it, drunk on your reactions and wanting to see how many he could draw out of you. 

Caleb let his finger wander back down your folds, swiping it up, down, and through your wetness over and over until you were squirming. The wet sounds had your cheeks burning, nails digging into the stiff fabric of his blazer as you whined. 

“Stop–”

“Stop what?” he taunted, his nail pressing into the underside of your clit. The sound that evoked was one you didn’t even think you were capable of making, eyes going wide and desperate.

“–teasing,” you breathed out. “Stop teasing. I need more.” More of this. More of him.

That was all it took. 

He slid a finger in, almost hypnotised by how smooth the glide was, a disbelieving scoff leaving him as he once again acknowledged just how wet you were. Your mouth fell open, a satisfied gasp escaping it as he buried said finger knuckle deep inside of you. Around him, you were warm and wet and so unbelievably tight that he felt himself grow harder, straining his pants but not caring about it for a second, so transfixed with you. 

His finger was longer than yours, brushing against spots that yours never could. He moved it slowly, pumping in and out of you at a pace that was both dizzying and infuriating before easing in a second one. 

Just when you were about to complain again, he crooked his fingers inside your cunt, and you moaned, “Oh fuck.”

“Feel good?” he pressed a kiss on the spot under your ear, breathing the words against it. “This what you wanted, baby?”

The new nickname had you clenching around him as you nodded furiously. He smirked triumphantly against your skin, increasing the motions as he finger fucked you, revelling in how your body responded so compliantly, truly made for him.

“Yes, yes. Please don’t stop.” You hiccuped, too lost in the sensation of his fingers dragging against your walls to form a coherent thought. It was the way you were looking right now, half-closed eyes caught between intense desire and a certain drowsiness only pleasure could bring about, dress all bunched up around your midriff– a mess, but a beautiful mess regardless.

Caleb had always been terrible at refusing you, so why should he start now? If you asked for something, he’d do anything to get you ten of them. Spoiling you was his favourite pastime, but he was starting to realise that he loved it even more like this, when you were begging him for something only he could deliver. 

When your legs began to tremble, his resolve steeled further, wanting more than anything to push you over the edge. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he mumbled, greedily mouthing at your breasts again. “Love making you feel good.”

His thumb found your engorged clit, rubbing deliberately heavy handed circles onto it. The squeal you let out was so cute, and he angled his fingers a little bit, watching as a shiver spread over your body and your eyes widened. 

A broken wail of ecstacy made its way past your lips as you tumbled over the edge, gushing around his fingers and growing so tight that it had his cock throb at the thought of being inside you. Your pussy was like a vise, sucking his fingers in deep, and he shamelessly indulged you, helping you ride out your high. Once he was sure it was over, he pulled his fingers out and nearly groaned at the sight of your release coating them.

Suddenly, the heat was unbearable. He shrugged off his jacket and grabbed at the knot of his tie, holding part of the fabric between his teeth and yanking the other end until it came undone. 

Witnessing this had two things happen to you at the same time: the first being your sharp inhale, and the second being the rush of desire that flooded your system all at once, shocking yourself with the magnitude of it all. Entranced, you watched as he discarded the tie and popped his collar, only snapping out of your reverie when you felt his fingers curl around your ankles and tug you closer. 

Fuck. 

Within seconds, his shirt was off, allowing you to unabashedly stare at the definition of his abs. You let your eyes wander because, wow, Caleb had always been extremely attractive, but the effects of it seemed to be hitting you all at once.

Having rid himself of part of his clothing, he turned his attention back to you, taking note of the appreciative glint in your eyes. You were perfect, so perfect for him in every single way, and he was going to make sure you knew it before the night was over. He found the mess of your dress and tugged it up and over your chest, uttering a single instruction.

“Up.”

You obeyed immediately, sitting up and letting him pull the material off of you, letting it join his discarded clothing without another care. After all, it was always meant to be peeled off of you, the perfect wrapping paper. Your shoes came off next, and you didn’t know which end of the room they landed up in. Left in only lingerie that barely left anything to the imagination, you had never felt so exposed and somehow still in control at the same time, because being vulnerable with Caleb was like second nature to you. 

“You look so pretty,” he cradled your face in his palms, voice soft and sincere. “I almost don’t want to take it off.”

“Almost,” you noted, teasing. He smirked down at you, snapping the strap of your bra against your shoulder.

“Almost,” he repeated, confirming that he was going to take it off anyway. He knocked your knees apart and settled in between them, resulting in you being eye-level with his chest, the silver of his necklace glinting in the dim lighting of his living room. 

And oh my god.

“Holy shit,” you muttered, a little awed. “It actually has gotten bigger.”

Caleb laughed, flicking your forehead as he gently pushed you back down, climbing over you and planting a kiss at the place he had just struck. 

“Did you think the robot assistant lied?” Amusement coated every syllable, a little muffled as he kissed your cheek, and then your lips, propping his index finger underneath your chin to angle your head better. 

“No,” you finally responded when he shifted his attention to your neck, sucking at the skin and leaving pretty little marks that would turn purple all over it. “Just confirming. You didn’t exactly let me check earlier.” You could feel his lips curve into a smile as he kissed down the valley of your breasts.

“Been thinkin’ about that all day, have you?” He glanced up at you from where he was, eyes alight with mischief. Caught, you decided to evade that question, sighing blissfully as he continued his path down your body. 

Until you realised where he was heading. 

“Wait, what are you–?”

“You have no idea,” He whispered reverently against your skin, methodically working his mouth over every part of it he could, like your body was a map he was attempting to commit to memory. “Just how long I’ve wanted this, wanted you.” His tongue flicked out occasionally, grounding you to the moment every time you felt yourself fall deeper into a daze. “Was sitting here and thinking of you, cravin’ you so bad. I do it almost every night.”

Every night. The idea made you positively woozy, cementing the fact that all the insanity you had felt in your apartment back in Linkon– it had been mutual. On some level, you had always known it had been, but hearing it like this, in such an intimate setting, made you feel braver. 

“Me too.” A breathless admittance, and it was the truth. It had always been the truth, even before you knew it.

Caleb looked up at you, both his hands slipping underneath your shins and gripping lightly. “I’ve wanted to hold you for so long, to kiss you and hold you and taste you–” he said in a manner that made it seem like he didn’t quite believe he was doing so now, rambling earnestly. “–fuck, can I taste you?”

He paused, letting the question weigh down on you. His path down your body made sense now, and you swallowed, trying to ignore how your pussy ached at the thought of it as you meekly whispered.

“You don’t have to.”

“Have to? Baby, I want to,” he kissed the spot just above your hip. “I’d beg if you asked me to.”  

You were so incredibly shy all of a sudden, overwhelmed by the sheer level of power he constantly loved placing in your hands. You recognised this was his way of ensuring you knew he was unequivocally and absolutely yours, and it set your blood on fire. Before you knew it, you found yourself surrendering.

“Okay.”

Without wasting another second, he pulled those pretty panties of yours off of you, albeit a little regretfully, and tossed them to the side as he settled in between your legs. Faced with your bare pussy, Caleb was convinced that he had died and gone to heaven already, unable to get over just how pretty it was, all flushed and glistening with need. You felt intimidated by how intently he was looking at it, trying to squirm away, but he held you there, large hands keeping you nice and spread out as he began peppering kisses over the expanse of your thighs. 

Then, without so much as a warning, he positioned your legs over his shoulders and licked a stripe up your cunt. Your gasp rushed straight to his head, much like how all his blood seemed to rush south. The taste of your slick made him groan, the sound so uncharacteristically filthy that you could feel yourself flush at hearing it, flattered and scandalised all at once. 

His tongue was tentative in its exploration of you at first, lapping at the wetness that seemed to trickle out of you uncontrollably like it was the finest of wines. He dragged over your entrance and up to your clit, flattening against it. 

“Oh,” you mewled, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging lightly. “Oh, fuck.”

The sensation of your nails lightly scratching against his scalp sent a delighted shiver down his spine, and he tightened his hold on you. He stroked his tongue over the bundle of nerves, once, twice, and continued doing so until you were whimpering uncontrollably. You were still sensitive from your previous orgasm, and this was almost too much too soon, but it felt too good to protest.

Caleb looked at you from where he was, as your fingers carded through the front of his hair and pushed it back, giving him the perfect view of you. Maintaining eye contact, he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked harshly, a deep sense of satisfaction spreading through his chest when he saw how your eyes snapped shut in pure ecstasy and your jaw fell open, crying out his name so loud.

Your back bowed off the ground, heels digging into his shoulder blades, torn between pulling him closer and attempting to push him away. He was determined to make sure you knew how much he was enjoying this. He groaned, and the vibrations from it elicited a moan from you in return, the two sounds coming together and forming a harmony of pleasure. 

“Caleb,” the way you whined his name was so perfect and breathy, he nearled cummed right there and there.

His wicked mouth continued to work you over the edge, and when you felt his finger prod at your entrance again, you squealed. The sounds coming from your pussy were borderline obscene with how wet you were, your slick mixing with his spit, coating your inner thighs as well. You felt that tug in your gut again as the coil pulled tighter and tighter, on the precipice of shattering.

It was so, so good, but greedy as you were, you wanted more. 

You tugged at his hair, gently at first and partly out of your need to hold onto something tangible to grip onto to stay grounded, before pulling harder, guiding him away from your cunt. 

Amusingly enough, it looked like he was offended at being parted from it, but maintained his gentle tone. “Somethin’ wrong?” 

“I think I’m close again.”

Caleb raised a singular eyebrow. “Sounds like everything was right then.” The pout on his lips would have been kind of adorable if not for the way your arousal coated his lips and chin, a sight so erotic it made you wish you could capture it somehow. 

You let your hands drop to his neck, pulling him back up from between your legs. “I want to come with you.” 

A hungry look entered his eyes, and he tongued his cheek. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you echoed, trailing your hands down his chest and abs, your nails grazing his skin with just the right amount of pressure to get him to shudder lightly. You stopped at his waistband, toying with it as your gaze flickered between it and his eyes, silently asking for permission. The ability to have an entire conversation with a single look was something he and you had mastered a long time ago, and this was no different. 

Caleb swallowed and nodded. “Okay, okay. Yeah. I want that too.”

You pushed him to the side, catching him a little off guard as he settled on his back. Sitting up, you straddled him once more, busying yourself with unfastening the button of his dress pants and unzipping them. He caught the slight tremble of your hands and smiled softly, pushing your hair out of your face and pressing a shockingly tender kiss to your forehead. Considering the situation, the contrast of it coaxed a nervous laugh out of you. 

“You’re distracting me,” you mumbled, turning your face into his hand and leaning into his touch. He played coy, thoroughly amused.

“Am I?”

“You know you are,” your hands were splayed out on his lower torso as you took a breather, overwhelmed. He didn’t care in the slightest, pulling you closer and resting his forehead against yours.

“I love being your distraction,” he hummed. “That’s how I know you’re paying attention to only me.”

A kiss to the side of your mouth brought all that confidence back. You straightened, pushing his pants down past his hips and repeated the action with his boxers, revealing his erection.

Flushed and painfully hard, it stood up against his stomach and made your eyes widen, because – holy shit – he was big. Your mouth went dry at the mere sight of it, and he tilted his head to the side, continuing in that soft cadence. “You okay?”

Shit – maybe you should have been the one asking that, because being that hard for presusmably this long had to have been extremely uncomfortable for him. Still, there he was, checking in on you instead. 

Your sweet, perfect boy. The man you loved. 

“I’m good,” you wet your lips, meeting his eyes and finding out just how much he was holding back right there, the purple of his irises almost entirely gone with how blown out his pupils were. “Can I– can I touch you?”

You caught his Adam's apple bob and wanted to bite it. 

I’ve only ever been yours to touch, his thoughts screamed back at him as he watched you wait for his response, but his tongue seemed to have trouble catching up to his mind at the moment. Everything about this was surreal to him, with you reciprocating everything he felt and showing it for the first time. “Yeah, you can.” He said after a beat, and then, as an afterthought, he added, “Please.”

Gently, you reached out and wrapped your fingers around his cock, feeling the weight of it in your hand. You didn’t miss the way he inhaled sharply, sucking air in through his teeth at the touch. His eyes fluttered shut, long eyelashes that you envied kissing the skin under his eyes as he tipped his head back. 

Seeing him like this spurred you on even further. You moved your hand a little, up his length, teasing his tip and the slit that leaked precum, spreading it around with your thumb. It made a mess on your palm, but made it easier for you to glide back down his cock, relishing the way he hissed in pleasure. 

Caleb jerked his hips into your fist instinctively, evidently trying his hardest to hold back his sounds, only letting the slightest of moans slip past his lips. You were having none of it, tightening your hold on him as you moved your hand, suddenly feeling playful. Leaning forward, you brushed the tip of your nose along his neck before pressing a kiss against his heated skin.

“Let me make you feel good,” you mumbled, syrupy sweet in your manner of speaking. It was the same tone you used to use with him every time you wanted to get your way, but instead of your usual puppy eyes, you settled for planting lazy kisses on his neck. 

“God–,” he sounded so strained, “Wait, I– fuuuuck”

You were aching for him at this point, now that you could feel him and imagine how he would feel. You ran the pad of your thumb over the vein on the underside of his cock teasingly, sucking on his pulse point, tasting the salt of his skin on your tongue. Briefly, you entertained the thought of lowering your mouth even further, until you had his tip in your mouth and–

Caleb caught your wrist, panting heavily. “Okay. Stop. No more.”

“I barely did anything?!” You protested, and he chuckled airily.

He breathed out your name, and it was completely intoxicating, an octave lower than usual and rough. “If you do anything more, I’ll come.”

“But–”

He turned his face, nose brushing yours as he breathed against your lips. “I’m not coming on your hand the first time we do this.” 

Assertive. Firm. Your train of thought came to a sharp halt, puddling into a mess of incoherence as lust took over. You nodded eagerly, crashing your lips to his again in a messy kiss, all tongue and heat and a desperation for each other that somehow hadn’t burst at the seams yet, but was about to. 

Another roll over, and the two of you were so far away from the spot you started in. Caleb was on top again, both of you caught up in your feverish lip lock. Your hands were in his hair as you pulled him as close as physically possible, and he reached behind you, finally unhooking your bra and letting it fall off, joining the rest of your discarded clothing. 

Caleb lifted your legs and hooked them over his hips, his fingers pressing into the flesh of your thighs as he licked into your mouth. He pushed his hips forward, pressing his cock against your dripping folds and rocking aimlessly, coating himself in your slick. The feeling of the head of his length rutting against your clit had you make a keening sound, one that he swallowed greedily, echoing with his own moan. 

This was real. It wasn’t a dream, your nails scratching against his biceps told him as much. You bucked your hips up against his, and the feeling of you, so wet and soft, was enough to make him feel delirious. 

“You’re perfect,” he said drunkenly. “My perfect girl.”

Oh.

Hearing him say it like that was something else. Calling you his, speaking it into existence to remind himself of the fact as much as it was to remind you, not bothering to ask the question first because there was no need to. Asking you to be his was trivial, especially when both of you knew you already were. 

He hiked your legs even higher as his tip caught at your entrance, nudging at it but not pushing in just yet. Those few seconds were torture, almost what you wanted but not quite. Not yet.

One more kiss. A dulcet whisper of ‘yours’ falling from you.

When he finally sank into you, it was slow, and you could feel it everywhere, your nerve endings on fire. The stretch burned deliciously, a momentary flash of discomfort that he distracted you from with another intense kiss, until it melted into pleasure. Your pussy eagerly welcomed him, hot and velvety around his cock as he inched his way in, even when taking his time was proving to be a difficult task. You felt unimaginably good, and when he glanced down between the two of your bodies, the sight of him half buried inside of you was enough to make him go a little light-headed. 

Caleb buried his face in the crook of your neck, deeply inhaling your scent as you pawed at his arms, producing pitchy little whimpers that sounded like music to his ears. A particularly impatient rut of his hips later, he was finally all the way in you. All you could manage were shallow breaths, feeling so full that it made it hard to think straight. 

“Y/n,” there was that drunken lilt to his tone again, muffled against your shoulder. “God, fuck, you feel incredible. I could do this all night” 

His words came to life in your mind, and you moaned, positively high off the praise, your walls pulsing around him happily as you adjusted to his size. “Yes.”

“Yes? You like the sound of that?” He encouraged you to elaborate, even though he knew how your state of mind had to have been then, reduced to nothing more than a puddle. Your entire body was impossibly flushed, and he massaged your hips soothingly, feeling how tense you had gone, clenching hard.

Caleb moved his mouth to your ear and whispered, “Relax for me, baby, you’re squeezin’ me so tight.” 

You forced yourself to let go of some of that tension, breathing deeply to keep yourself at least a little bit relaxed. He kissed your pulse point, feather light, as he pulled all the way out until only his tip remained inside of you. The loss made you whine pitifully, feeling uncomfortably empty now that you knew what it was to be full of him. Lifting his head from your neck, he couldn’t help but smirk when you wiggled, silently begging for more. 

“So impatient,” he tutted condescendingly, squeezing your waist. The glare you threw his way was weak.

“You–”

He promptly shut you up with a deep, measured stroke, ensuring that you felt every single inch of him as he did. Whatever scathing quip you were about to fire at him flew right out of your head, replaced with a humilatingly wanton cry of his name, nearly sobbing in relief when he repeated the action. He had always been like this, pushing your buttons until they were completely undone. 

“I…I don’t think I’ll last long,” you warned breathlessly as he rolled his hips into yours, arching off the floor when you felt him even deeper than the last thrust. Your previously building climax had resumed its course, all that sensitivity coming back all at once. 

“I know, I can feel it.” His hand slipped down your thigh to the curve of your ass, lifting your hips slightly and leaving absolutely no space between the two of you. 

As if to prove his point, you felt yourself clench around him again, getting even wetter when the head of his cock briefly brushed against a spot inside you that had you seeing stars. You lolled your head to the side, shutting your eyes as you focused on how he was fucking you. He dropped back down, his body dwarfing you as he buried his face in your hair, hips rocking against yours. The space between you, or lack thereof, felt heavy with your mutual need and something else.

Bodies flush against each other, chest pressing against his– suddenly, this wasn’t about pleasure anymore. Your breaths and heartbeats converged into one, skin to skin and connected in the way both of you had longed for, all that waiting and wanting coming to a head in this fragile, beautiful moment. Every gasp was a proclamation of your feelings, spilling clarity over them in a way that words never could. He was yours just as much as you were his, two souls melding into one. 

You would never be separated again.

The words sat on the tip of your tongue, a mere eight letters forming all three of them. They should have been easy to say, but you found yourself holding back, not wanting them to come out like this. Caleb's fingers found yours, intertwining with them and squeezing as he pressed the back of your hands into the carpeted floor. Heavy emotion mixed with the sheer levels of bliss coursing through your veins as he moved inside you, steadily climbing to the peak of its crescendo.

When you came, it was much more intense than the first time, your mind dissolving into a jumbled mess and a ragged moan of his name leaving your throat. You got so tight around him, causing his pace to stutter, and then slow down a little bit, switching into shallower thrusts. For your sake, you realised.

“We– we can stop if it's too much,” he muttered, but the desperate rutting of his hips against yours told you a different story. He hadn’t come yet, and though you were so sensitive to every little movement of his now, it felt too good to want it to stop. You felt insatiable, wanting him to fall apart just as you had and to be the one he fell apart for. 

So you choked out hoarsely, “More.”

“Fucking hell,” his voice had taken on a tone you had never heard before, “Are you sure?”

Instead of responding verbally, you locked your legs behind him, dragging him deeper into your soaked cunt and mewling at the feel of him. 

And then, because you could never resist pushing his buttons, you purred, “Didn’t you say you could do this all night?”

Caleb’s eyes snapped to yours, narrowing slightly at the taunt. The air crackled with a newfound intensity, contrasting the sweet intimacy that you had just shared with him, slipping into darker territory. “I did,” he drawled, pulling out completely before snapping his hips to yours again, the roughness of the move a stark difference from his previous gentleness. You were helpless to the intense waves of pleasure washing over you while he fucked you, succumbing to them with an enthusiastic groan. “You want that, huh? Want me to fuck you all night?”

The way he phrased it was filthy and so wrong in all the right ways, a dark lilt injected into his tone. Seemingly knowing the effect it had on you, he let go of one of your hands, cupping one of your breasts instead. Instinctively, you arched up into his touch, and he grinned, rolling your nipple under his fingers before pinching it. He savoured the way you whined, wishing he could permanently imprint the sound in his memory as he continued to tease the pebbled bud, tugging and flicking it. His ministrations only amplified the ache between your legs, despite you being quite literally stuffed full of him.

“Come on,” he taunted playfully. “Say it. Say you want me to fuck you all night.”

A rush of shame curled around you, the vulgarity of the statement having you exhale sharply. You reached up and pulled him back down into a kiss, hoping it would distract him, and for a couple of seconds, it seemed like it did. He hummed contentedly, but then broke away and pinched your nipple again, this time harsher than before. 

“Say it, or I stop.” 

That was wholly counterintuitive, especially since that meant he would essentially be blue-balling himself. However, your ability to think logically had flown out the window a long time ago, and you shook your head desperately when he actually began to slow down a little, rolling your hips upwards and babbling.

“I want it– want you to fuck me all night.”

“Good girl.” 

Oh, you definitely liked that, judging by the way your pussy fluttered around him so eagerly. His messed-up hair fell into his eyes as he set a punishing pace, groaning at how silky smooth the glide was. At how you fit together so perfectly. 

And god, you looked absolutely debauched, a vision with your flushed skin and red marks littered all over your neck and chest. The sight of you like this had to have been the very definition of sin, glossy eyes and pathetic little whimpers falling from kiss-bitten lips that encouraged him to fuck you even harder. He forced himself to look away, glancing down at the spot where the two of you were connected and watching how his cock disappeared in you, your cunt hungrily gripping and sucking him back in every time he rocked away. 

“Look at you,” He crooned, notching himself in you completely and staying still for a few, cruel moments.. “Look at your pretty little pussy taking my cock so well. It’s like you were made for me.”

Your sensitivity from the overstimulation had circled back to pure need by now, and an agonised moan left those swollen lips of yours at the stilling of his movements. Your nails dug into his skin, the sting making him hiss. His cock throbbed inside of you, so, so close to coming undone. When you curved off the carpet, he splayed a hand over your stomach and took a moment to admire how large it looked against you, before pressing down firmly. 

“Caleb, please,” the look you threw his way was addictive, so desperate and wanting. How could he ever refuse you, especially when you were looking at him like that? 

“Anything,” he dropped his mouth to yours, breathing out against it and pinning your hips down. His hand on your stomach slid lower, dipping into your folds, dragging your slick up to your engorged clit and rolling it between his fingers. Your shriek of surprise and pleasure was nothing short of delightful. “I’ll give you anything and everything you ask for.”

Caleb began rutting into you again, angling his hips slightly differently now, going even deeper. As a result, he brushed against that spot that had you seeing stars once more, and you cried out. 

“Oh my god, right there– please don’t stop, please, please–!” 

His grip on your hips turned bruising, sure to leave marks, but neither of you cared in the slightest, lost to the overwhelming pleasure. He fucked into that spot over and over, lewd, wet sounds echoing through the living room every time his body met yours. Your vision blurred as you clawed at him, so far gone. 

“Won’t stop,” he groaned, reassuring you that he was now done teasing. “Y/n I– god– stay with me, okay?” He was borderline frantic with his thrusts now, his composure having crumbled away completely and leaving you with a frenzied man, chasing his high and determined to give you another, drowning in the depths of his own emotions. “Don’t ever leave me.”

It was a statement he had spoken several times before, between the lingering stares and tight embraces that lasted a little too long. Constantly asking you to never leave him, holding on so tight in fear that he’d lose you. Somehow, in the midst of the haze of bliss you were caught in, you managed to catch on to what he was saying. 

“Never,” you whimpered, cupping his face and holding him close. “I’m never leaving you, I’m yours.” 

Caleb nuzzled into your touch and pressed his forehead to yours. “And I’m yours.” 

He littered burning kisses over the expanse of your neck, pressing them to your chin and cheeks as well, spilling his affections onto every bit of you that he could. Your fingers found purchase in his hair once more, tugging and using your hold to angle his face so that you could kiss him again.

With one final pass of his fingers over your clit, your third orgasm slammed into you. You sobbed out his name through the waves of euphoria that crashed through your body, setting your entire body alight from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. Caleb helped you ride through your high, grinding into you and drawing out the white-hot pleasure that licked at you so tantalisingly. It felt as if you were falling into the abyss, but as always, he was there to catch you.

Caleb came shortly after, unable to hold off any longer with the way your pussy clamped down on him, tight and hot and demanding in the most delicious way. His thrusts slowed down as he lazily rode his high, pumping into your trembling form slower. Your walls spasmed, and he grunted, pressing his lips to yours and muffling your whines. 

The kiss veered into something much softer, just a breathless brush of your lips as you calmed down, head descending from the clouds. He pulled out gently, humming softly when you hissed and pressing his lips to your forehead in lieu of an apology. 

“You’re incredible,” he said quietly. Silence ruled the room for a couple of seconds; the only thing you could perceive was the quickened beating of your heart, and every spot where his skin touched yours. Nothing but him existed in the little world you had created for yourselves, and the two of you stayed like that for a bit, basking in each other's warmth. 

“Caleb,” you murmured his name, the syllables feeling heavy on your tongue. The words you wanted to say so badly stuck in your throat, and your vocal cords refused to cooperate. Those sunset eyes of his found yours, captivating in every sense of the word, and he lifted your hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it tenderly. 

“I know.” He whispered. “I know.”

But he didn’t. How could he, when you had taken so long to figure it out yourself? He looked at you so lovingly that it made your chest hurt, and you let out a shaky sigh, overwhelmed by how ardent your feelings for him were, how real and messy and intense. You felt like a lone ship out at sea, but Caleb was that lighthouse in the distance, leading the way back home. He was the sun high up in the sky that brightened your days, coaxing you out of the dark and into the light, and you’d gladly burn just for the chance to stay close to him.

And so when your lips met and your thighs straddled him once more, there wasn’t any teasing. He smiled into the kiss and cradled the back of your head as you descended further into the darkness, into your feelings and into him.

The sun was rising. 

Early morning breeze slipped through the gaps in the windows of his balcony, but you barely felt the chill, focused on the way the glass reflected your figures. The slowly brightening sky made it seem as if both of you were bathed in a warm glow, and with how you were leaning back against him, you felt that glow within, too. You traced the outline with your finger, feeling the condensation catch and drag, dripping down the window panes. 

Caleb pulled you back into his arms, lying down with you, his hand rubbing soothing circles on the small of your back. You settled on your stomach and propped yourself up on your elbows. In the hazy morning light, you took a moment to study him.

“It feels like a dream.”

His gaze was steady when it found yours, his voice soft in an almost awestruck manner. “You dreamed about me before?”

“Of course. I dreamed you called yourself a dummy and promised to follow me around like a little tail.” You couldn’t help letting a quip slide now that the heat from just minutes ago had subsided. Now, you were clad in his shirt, the very same one he had discarded so eagerly, and he had on pants, but was shirtless. You reached out and touched the dog tag pendant of his necklace, toying with it between your fingers. 

Caleb was a man of his word; you always knew that, but you had learned just how determined he could be that night. As promised, he remained entangled with you all night, until your joint gasps and moans of pleasure had imprinted in your memory. It was the culmination of all those years of waiting, hoping, and wanting so hopelessly, and he showed you all of it. You let him, digging your heels in the dirt and refusing to run away anymore. 

He scoffed in amusement, trailing his touch upward and gently massaging your shoulder blades. He looked so lovely like this, dishevelled hair and cheeks flushed pink from the exertion of your earlier activities. A choked-up feeling invaded your throat as you got serious, dropping the pendant.

“I also dreamed that your signal was lost in a tunnel. There was only darkness, nothing else…” Your eyes hardened as you thought back to your fear of losing him and how badly the explosion had shaken you. Part of you didn’t know why you were bringing this up again, but the other half made it crystal clear: all that grief and fear was a fundamental stepping stone in your relationship with him. In order to admit it, you had to let it all out. “And then….I couldn’t find you anymore.”

Your voice was small and unrecognisable. You interlaced your fingers together and swallowed the lump that was steadily building in your throat. You felt him shift a little closer, closing his larger hand around both of yours and squeezing.

“That day will never happen.”

His touch was comforting, the motion of his thumb rubbing against the back of your hand bringing you an inexplicable sense of peace. “Losing signal, not being able to see what’s around me– none of that matters.” He dipped his head closer to yours, his lips curving upwards just slightly. “My flight path is in your hands, and I already know my destination before I take off.”

His voice was soft, like he was afraid to speak any louder lest it break you. Your breath caught, lower lip quivering at how sweet he was. You were speechless, but that was okay, because he wasn’t done. “There’s only one place I want to reach. It doesn’t matter what obstacles stand in my way.”

Caleb lifted one of your hands, pressed a kiss to your knuckles, and you almost fucking cried from how tender the action was, the emotion in your chest practically bursting out of it. Then, he pressed your palm against his heart and whispered, despite him and you being the only two people around, so reminiscent of the way he’d let you in on secrets when you were children.

“Its coordinates have been recorded here a long time ago.”

How had he dissolved all your lingering anxiety so easily? It felt as if he had caught it and tucked it out of your sight. Suddenly, you felt light again, and everything you had been trying so hard to say burst forth. Keeping those feelings to yourself for any longer would drive you crazy, and you needed him to hear them coming from you straight. 

“I love you.” 

The three words tumbled out of you gracelessly, but that imperfection made it real. Your vulnerability made your voice tremble, but you didn’t care, and neither did he. You saw the light in his eyes brighten and his grin widen as he pressed your hand against his chest harder, letting you feel how his heart sped up. 

You had called him the sun, but if he was the sun, then to Caleb, you were the moon. Incandescent, radiant, beautiful and for the longest time, it truly did feel like he had been chasing you through the skies, only to have to settle with glimpses at interludes and intervals when the evening reigned. Having to keep his love for you to himself during the day and letting it breathe during the night, when no one could see it in the dark. Now, those two celestial bodies collided, and the result was a supernova.

And it was as easy as breathing for him to say: “I love you, too.”

A watery giggle left you as you leaned forward and rested your head on his shoulder, nuzzling against him. He turned his face, resting his cheek against your forehead for a couple of seconds.. 

“I didn’t get to make a wish before blowing out the candles at the restaurant. Can I make one now?”

A perplexed look took over your features, and he had to resist kissing the furrow of your eyebrows away. “You had your eyes closed for so long, but you didn’t make a single wish?”

Although you were making fun of him for it, you got to your feet and padded to the kitchen, ignoring the soreness between your legs as you grabbed a cupcake. Finding a candle, you inserted it on top and lit it, before making your way back. As you plopped down, you asked, “Do you want me to sing ‘happy birthday’ again?”

He sat up and shook his head. “No, it's okay. I already know what I wanna wish for.”

Caleb cupped your hands that held the cake, leaning forward. The flame on the candle flickered as your only witness to this precious moment, and his infectious smile spread to you. You could see yourself grin in the reflection of his eyes, and it only made you smile wider, subconsciously leaning in as well. 

“I wish we’ll always fly under the same sky and be in each other’s lives.” He glanced at the candle. “And I’ll wish that every year, I’ll follow these coordinates on this day as I venture through the darkness. All because they’ll lead me back to you.” 

You were beaming when he blew the candle out, eyes shining with how deliriously happy you were. It was a look that, up until this point, he had only ever seen in his dreams. Placing the cupcake down, you drew closer and settled into his arms again. It was a new day, his birthday was over, and he was a year older, but none of those changes were the ones that mattered. This was the only one that did.

“In that case,” you whispered, nose brushing against his as you looked into his eyes. “I’ll wait for you to find me every year.”

The sun had risen, and for the first time, Caleb didn’t have to wake up.

fin.

[mrsmadlove]

Shawn michaels one shot 🫧

You were sitting on Shawn’s lap. His hands moved slowly over your hips and the curve of your lower back, while you shared a slow, juicy kiss the kind that ignites your skin even when your body’s completely still. His lips moved gently over yours, but never lost that spicy edge that always defined the two of you. The moment your mouths brushed, he was already slipping his tongue in.

If he could, he’d live attached to your face. Sometimes, he would just lie on top of you, staring at you with that intense gaze, whispering against your lips. You were in his dressing room. He was wearing his blue sequin outfit your favorite and that sparkly little hat that, to your despair, drove you absolutely crazy. His bronzed skin glowed under the soft lights of the room.

Five minutes earlier, someone had knocked on the door to let him know he was up soon. The house match was about to start, and they’d be back any minute to rush him out.

“Shawn! Come on, you need to go right now!” came a rushed voice from outside.

He let out a dramatic sigh just as he felt your smile stretch across his lips.

“All right, baby… I’m off,” he murmured, giving your ass a loud smack with both hands.

“I’ll be waiting right here,” you said as you got up, flashing him a cheeky smile. “Go win them over!”

“That’s not exactly hard,” he smirked with that signature arrogance you couldn’t help but love.

He leaned in again, wrapping his arms fully around you in a tight embrace.

“I love you, babe.”

“And I love you, my love,” you whispered sweetly, meaning every word. Being with Shawn made you feel like you were back in high school heart racing, cheeks flushed. You watched him as he walked away, his silhouette disappearing through the door.

Then you curled up on the couch to catch his entrance on the tiny dressing room TV. You loved that entrance dance he always did, and the way he blew kisses at the camera always meant for you. After his signature pose, he looked straight into the center camera, placed a hand over his heart, and traced the first letter of your name with his fingers. How could you not feel like a hopelessly smitten fool after that?

About ten minutes had gone by. Tired of watching punches and flips, you decided to head out into the hallway and look for something to eat. Hunter wasn’t around that night—he had a doctor’s appointment—so you didn’t have your usual company to chat or joke with while waiting.

As you walked toward catering, a few people greeted you, recognizing you instantly. Your relationship with Shawn was no longer news. You returned the greetings naturally and made your way to the long table piled with food.

You noticed a few wrestlers eating and chatting. Off to the side, you spotted Bret he had already noticed you too. You’d never had a conversation longer than ten minutes, but he’d always been polite and kind with you, despite the growing tension that seemed to be brewing between him and Shawn.

“Hey,” he greeted with a smile. “How are you?”

“Hey, Bret. I’m good… just a little hungry,” you said, gesturing toward the food.

“Same here,” he laughed. “I’ve been here since early, and I’m definitely feeling it.”

You nodded, popping a grape into your mouth with an understanding smile. The conversation flowed surprisingly well. You got to know more about him and he about you.

You’d always had a strange impression of Bret. Not necessarily a bad one, but something about him never quite sat right with you. Maybe it was the way he looked at women. He was always polite, yes, but carried that old-school charm like a gentleman who knew exactly when to wink and when to smirk.Sometimes you wondered if he was as loyal to his wife as he claimed. Though to be fair, you’d never seen him actually cross any lines.

He told you about his family, about his kids and in that area, you knew for a fact he was a great father. You’d even met one of his sons during one of your visits to see Shawn perform. Before you realized it, more than twenty minutes had passed. Shawn’s match had probably ended by now.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Bret. I totally lost track of time… Shawn must be done by now,” you said, apologizing as you glanced at your phone.

“Don’t worry. We wouldn’t want to keep the queen waiting,” he joked, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. You laughed.

“To be honest… I still don’t get what you see in him,” he added, almost like he was thinking out loud.

“Have you seen him?” you replied with a playful sarcasm. He chuckled softly.

“Fair enough. But I meant personality-wise. The arrogance is just… over the top and—”

“I get it,” you cut in gently. “I know he’s intense sometimes, but it’s just a shield. Deep down, he’s a good man.”

“Still… he doesn’t deserve you,” Bret said quietly. “I’ve seen things… and I’ve heard others.” Your eyebrow lifted ever so slightly, not quite sure what he was implying. Before you could ask, you felt two large hands land on your shoulders.

“Babe! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Let’s go,” Shawn said, grabbing your hand firmly.

“Shawn! I was talking…” you whispered, shooting him a glance, trying to signal not now. You nodded toward Bret, slightly reproachful.

Shawn just rolled his eyes and threw up his hands in irritation. “Whatever,” he muttered, turning on his heel and walking off. You sighed and turned back to Bret.

“Sorry. I should go. But… what were you saying about Shawn?”

“Oh, nothing, sweetheart. Forget it,” he said with an unreadable smile. You nodded. You knew he wouldn’t say more. And deep down, you sensed it probably wasn’t anything you didn’t already know. Lately, you had noticed Shawn’s ups and downs. A few strange moods, some arguments small storms you’d weathered together. He had been very clear with you. He swore on his mother and on wrestling, the two things he loved most in the world that he wouldn’t do anything that could risk losing you. And you believed him.

You chose to push Bret’s comment out of your mind and headed back to the dressing room to find your favorite grump.

When you walked in, you saw Shawn half-naked, drenched in sweat, a towel slung over his shoulder.

“How’s my big guy?” you asked playfully as you walked over. No response. Not even a glance.

You stepped closer and wrapped your arms around him, not caring about the sweat.

“Why so grumpy?” you murmured against his chin.

He looked at you silently.

“Done talking to Bret?” he snapped, pulling away. You didn’t answer right away. The way he spat his words when something bothered him it irritated you… and turned you on. It was just part of who he was.

“What’s going on?” you asked, even though you already knew.

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

“This again?”

“Yes, this again,” he raised his voice not out of anger, but from sheer intensity. He always lived on edge, and you’d learned how to walk that tightrope without falling.

“I swear, if he ever lays a hand on you…”

“He wouldn’t,” you interrupted. “But that’s not the point. The point is you don’t trust me.” Shawn crossed the space between you in two quick steps. Now you were face to face, just millimeters apart. His breath mixed with yours, his brows drawn together. You placed your hands on his bare chest, still warm and damp with sweat.

“Baby… do you really think anyone could ever compete with you in my heart?” you whispered, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

“It’s not that,” he whispered. “It’s just…” But he didn’t finish the thought. Instead, he grabbed the back of your neck and kissed you hard. The kiss was a mix of frustration and want, rough and hungry. He pulled you against his body like he needed to prove you were his.

“I don’t want to lose you. You’re mine,” he growled between clenched teeth, his forehead resting against yours.

“And are you mine?” you asked without blinking.

“Of course I am,” he said, almost angrily.

“You have me. Haven’t you figured that out yet? I’m completely yours. That’s why I can’t breathe when I see you laughing with someone else.”

“Then don’t let go of me,” you said softly. “But don’t suffocate me either.” He let out a short, humorless laugh.

“And how the hell am I supposed to do that with you?” His fingers slid down your back and he leaned in for another kiss—this one slower, deeper.

“You’re my drug, baby. You get me high and wreck me all at once.” You stood on tiptoe and kissed his neck.

“Stop getting jealous over dumb things,” you murmured, “and go shower… or invite me.” Shawn chuckled and, without warning, scooped you into his arms and carried you straight into the bathroom.

🫧

[telly0uwhat]

how i think every character of bmw would react to eric and jack dating

cory:

he definitely doesn't have anything against it, but he finds it disgusting every time they show affection in front of him

jumped for joy when shawn reminded him that if the two of them got married they would be from the same family

shawn:

"what? are you telling me you just started dating now? last week when jack said "eric's my partner" i thought you guys were going to get married! i even bought a lamp with your faces on it"

#1 jeric supporter

topanga:

"i'm happy for you guys" and then she had to give cory and shawn 20 bucks for losing the bet.

(she is a great ally but she always thought that the two were just great friends like cory and shawn)

angela:

"shawn already told me that when we met. but i didn't agree with the lamp"

rachel:

"i'm so happy for you guys! i couldn't handle that whole story anymore, now we can be great girlfriends"

amy:

"aw guys that's great! i'm so glad you boys told me that, but it's not like we didn't notice"

loves jack more than her own son

alan:

stared at eric for about 30 secs like 😦 thinking about what to say

"look eric, i thought i would never have to go through this. i thought you were going to wait for us to have a guess and integrate jack into the family like no one noticed and i wouldn't have to have this conversation with you"

mr. feeny:

"well, i believe that the relationship between you, mr. matthews and mr. hunter, is quite remarkable and i have to admit that i had my doubts about this bond that you created. i'm glad that you cared to share this information with me, being in love is the best thing a human being can feel, don't lose what you have. but i think you gentlemen should explain some things to shawn"

morgan:

"eric, i told you that"

[wallofchynax]

PROVE THY LEGACY: CHAPTER TWO

ORIGINALLY POSTED ON AO3

Synopsis: It's the Attitude Era and Kiran Smith has been training her whole life to be a star and prove that women aren't just pretty faces. Immediately, she faces push back and is forced to job. She finds an ally in Chyna who trains her, eventually inviting her into Degeneration X where Kiran finds her place. However, the excess of the Attitude Era begins to slowly poison everything Kiran has worked so hard for…

Ships: Shawn Michaels/OC, Stephanie McMahon/Triple H

CHAPTER SYNOPSIS: Kiran battles with being part of DX. However, what she doesn't know is that by being a part of the most controversal faction in WWF, she's inserted herself into a rivalry that goes beyond the ring.

The arena lights flashed around her. The sound of the crowd was intoxicating. The energy in the air was just simply electric as the familar Are you Ready? Made the crowd go wild. The unmistakable sound of the opening riff sent the audience in. The camera’s cut to the entrance of Degeneration X. 

But this time, they had an extra person.  

Kiran followed behind them. Face unreadable. She had been in front of the crowd before but nothing like this. Last time, she was jobbing to someone else but now she was part of the cheering. Nothing ever compared to this. The sheer volume of people was overwhelming. Chyna hadn’t given her anything to prepare with and just told her to just ‘roll with it’ beforehand. 

As they made their way down the ramp, Hunter and Shawn swaggered ahead, playing up to their audience. Road Dogg and Billy Gunn doing their best to hype up the audience. Chyna stood next to Kiran, as the quiet female enforcer. Kiran didn’t know exactly what to do. She was lost in the moment but was dragged out of it when she felt Shawn put a hand on her shoulder and pull her towards the middle of the ring with him. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” His voice boomed out through the mic, smirking, “I know what you are probably wondering – who is this fine young lady standing here with us?” 

Hunter took over, draping an arm around Kiran’s shoulder, “You see, DX is always looking for new blood. Someone who’s got the guys, the attitude and the skills to roll with the best of the best. Lucky for us, this lady here fits that bill,” 

Kiran could feel eyes linger on her. This was her moment. It was almost as if they were testing her to see if she would flinch under the pressure. 

“Well,” Shawn asked, bringing her out of that thought, “Do you have what it takes to run with DX?” 

Kiran didn’t hesitate. She grabbed the mic from him, causing the crowd to react with a surprised cheer. She let the noise settle before raising the microphone to her lips. 

“I didn’t come here to play nice,” she said, her voice steady, cutting through the air. “I came here to fight. And if DX is where the real fighters are—” she looked between Hunter and Shawn, then at Chyna, who gave her a small, approving nod, “—then I guess I’m exactly where I need to be.” 

The crowd errupted. It was the first time that Kiran had been blown away by a crowd reaction. Hunter nodded, clearly pleased by her answer while Shawn leaned in slightly, watching her with a curious interest. 

“Well,” Hunter said, patting her hard on the back, “I guess that settles it,” 

With that Road Dogg led the group into their signature catchphrase, ending with a crotch chip as the pryo’s exploded behind them. Kiran followed their lead, unsure if she was fully embracing tonight or if she was just playing along but if one thing was certain, she could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, and it felt good.  

When they reached the backstage, the cheering was muffled by the stage work but the adrenialine was still there. Kiran kept looking back at the entrance to the ramp. She pulled at the tape on her wrist trying to ground herself. She had never been cheered quite like that in her life. She watched as The Rock and Stone Cold Steve Austin passed her, ready for their next match.  She just couldn’t believe how good she felt.  

“Well,” Chyna asked, placing a hand on her shoulder, “You did good,” 

Kiran’s attention was brought to her and she let out a slow breath, “It was one hell of a welcome party,” 

Chyna smirked, “Get used to it, Ki,” 

Before Kiran could respond, Shawn Michaels sauntered up to them. He had been walking with Hunter and the others but now he was next to Kiran and draping an arm around her jokingly. 

“You know,” He mused, tilting his head to look at her, “I wasn’t sure about you at first,” 

Kiran raised an eyebrow, “And now?” 

Shawn’s let out a chuckle, removing his arm from her shoulder, “You’re more interesting than I thought you were,” 

What was that supposed to mean? 

“Hey!” Hunter shouted from ahead of them, walking with XPac, Road Dogg and Billy Gunn, “No getting sentimental,” 

Kiran looked at Shawn before Hunter, “Wouldn’t dream of it,” 

After weeks passed, Kiran became more comfortable with the chaos of DX. She had wondered how long she was going to run with this, but she felt herself slip further and further into the chaos, the crude jokes, the over-the-top antics, interfering with matches, it was all part of the ride. She was was unsure if she was going to be able to match their energy, but the crowd loved her defiant attitude. Her popularity began to rise and the more time she spent with them, the more she picked up their habits. 

After another successful show, DX found themselves at a bar which was another post show ritual. Drinks were flowing freely and the energy in the air was as wild as ever. Kiran wanted to keep up with them. She didn’t want to be the only one who didn’t drink as much so she tried to keep up with the rest of them ignoring the burn in her throat when she threw back shots. 

Along the way, the group ended up scattering which left Kiran in the booth. She had never been the partying type in the past. No one ever invited her to parties, and she didn’t have any friends to go to the bar with. She was often on her own train. 

She didn’t realise how it happened, but Shawn was sitting across from her. Sunglasses, not sitting still as he sat with a drink in his hand. She didn’t know how it happened, but it did. She had been glancing around the room, watching and giggling at whatever nonsense the Road Dogg and Billy Gunn were doing. 

Kiran didn’t notice when Shawn leaned back, watching her with an interested and easy smirk,” 

“You look like your getting comfortable with all of this,” 

Kiran glanced at him, raising an eyebrow, “And?” 

“Didn’t think you’d be the type...” He said, rolling his glass between his fingers. 

Kiran frowned, “What’s that suppose to mean?” 

He gestured vaguely around the bar, “This. The chaos. The drinking. The fun,”  

Kiran couldn’t help but roll her eyes, turning her head and watching the others. Her eyes landed on Chyna who was laughing at something Hunter said. Kiran crossed her arms as she looked over at him, “Isn’t that what this was about?” 

Shawn studied her, grin only fading a little, “You just don’t strike me of someone who lets less. You seem more like someone who likes to be in control,” 

Something tightened in her chest. That was not a lie. She spent years keeping control. She had to. She had to be in control of herself and how others saw her. It was necessary. She could not slip up.  

She narrowed her eyes at him, “Do you always pry into other people’s business or am I just special?” 

Shawn simply shrugged, “Only when they’re interesting,”  

Kiran exhaled, masking her unease with another sip of her own drink. She wasn’t sure if Shawn was just making conversation or trying to push her buttons. The look on his face, the lazy posture as he watches her and the confidence. She has no idea what he plans on doing with that information. 

“Don’t waste your time,” Kiran exhaled, after her sip, “I’m here for business, that’s it,” 

“We’ll see,”  

Kiran couldn’t tell if that was a threat or a challenge but before she could find out, Chyna waved them over. Shawn gave her one last look before standing up. Kiran waited a few moments before getting up, the final words in her head. 

The hotel room was dimly lit. The thick scene of alcohol and cigarette smoke clung to the air. Kiran sat on the edge of the bed as she had her head in her hands, trying to shake the throb between her eyes. The night had been long and she had drank way more than she was ever used to. On the other bed, spawling out like a fallen warrior, XPac with his shirt unbuttoned and one boot remaining, muttered something unintelligible before groaning and rolling over.  

Hunter was back in a chair, one leg slung over the armrest, a half empty bottle of whiskey dangling from his fingers as his eyes were barely open, letting out a chuckle, “Man, that was one hell of a night, wasn’t it,” 

Chyna was sat at a small table in the corner, drinking a bottle of water as she watched her colleagues. She had drunk a lot but handled it much better than everyone else. 

Kiran exhaled, “Is...is it always like this?” 

Chyna chuckled, taking a sip of water, “Pretty much. You get used to it,” 

Kiran shook her head, leaning back against the headboard, “I don’t know how to keep up,” 

Chyna shrugged, “I have a better tolerance, unlike these idiots,” 

As if to prove her point, XPac rolled over with a groan before a quiet “I’m okay...” 

Kiran let out a chuckled, laying back on the bed on her back. The partying... it was fun in the moment but in the aftermath, she wasn’t sure how much of this was her scene. IT was one thing having to be part of DX’s antics on the camera but this keeping up with them off screen? That was another battle entirely.  

Hunter pointed a lazy finger at her, his grin widening. “You were a hit tonight. Crowd liked you.” 

“Yeah?” Kiran’s voice was hesitant, uncertain. Did they really, or was she just another cog in the machine of the spectacle? 

Chyna tilted her head, watching her closely. “You don’t sound convinced.” 

Kiran ran a hand through her hair, gaze unfocused. “I don’t know… I just didn’t think my career would rely so much on a gimmick. I want to be taken seriously.” 

Hunter let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “That’s the business, kid. You learn to live with it.” 

But Chyna didn’t brush off her concerns so easily. She set her water bottle down, leaning forward, her gaze sharp and unwavering. “You think we don’t take you seriously? You wouldn’t be here if we didn’t. You wouldn’t have gotten that reaction if you weren’t doing something right.” 

Kiran wanted to believe that. She really did. But deep down, a gnawing doubt festered. Was she carving out her own place here, or was she just playing a role in someone else’s story? 

Before she could voice any of it, X-Pac groaned again from the bed, this time louder. 

“Can someone turn the damn light off?” 

Hunter laughed, dragging himself out of the chair with an exaggerated stretch before flicking the switch. “You big baby.” 

Darkness swallowed the room, leaving them all with only the distant hum of the city outside. The muffled sounds of late-night traffic, the occasional honk of a car horn, the ever-present murmur of voices that never truly faded. 

Kiran let her eyes close, exhaustion pulling at her, but her mind was still buzzing. The night had been overwhelming, and now, in the quiet, it all settled over her like a weight she couldn’t shake. 

Then, Chyna’s voice cut through the silence. “Kiran… are you gonna be okay?” 

Kiran didn’t open her eyes. “Yeah…” 

If she had looked, she would have seen the slight furrow in Chyna’s brow, the rare trace of concern in her otherwise unreadable face. But Chyna didn’t push. 

“Get some sleep.” 

Kiran nodded slightly, but even as her body begged for rest, she knew sleep wouldn’t come easy. Not with everything still rattling around in her head. Not with the weight of what she had gotten herself into pressing down on her chest. 

Kiran’s face was unreadable as she looked at she looked at the booking sheet. Them her eyes narrowed. 

There was her name. She was booked next to Shawn Michaels. 

As a valet.  

Her stomach twisted. She hadn’t trained her whole life to be a valet. She had trained to be a wrestler. The idea of standing ringside whiel someone else fought, while Shawn Michaels fought, it was making her skin crawl. 

“They can’t be serious...” Kiran muttered. 

Chyna had been standing next to her was reading the sheet too, “Huh. I guess they want to see how you work with Shawn. That makes sense,” 

Kiran looked at her, “In what world does that make sense?”  

Chyna shrugged, “It isn’t a big deal. I valet Hunter sometimes. It would only make sense that they’d want the same for Shawn too,” 

Kiran scoffed, crossing her arms, “We both know they want to see how I look next to him. Big difference,”  

“It’s just one match,” Chyna pointed out, “Besides if you’re out there, you are part of the story. That’s more screentime,” 

Kiran exhaled through her nose, trying to push down her frustration. Chyna had a point—visibility mattered in this business—but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. 

“Yeah but do you see who Shawn is fighting?” Kiran pointed to the opponants name; who was none other than Bret ‘The Hitman’ Hart, “They don’t just have a rivalry on camera’s, it’s off camera’s too. I don’t want to be involved in that,” 

Chyna studied the sheet, then let out a quiet sigh, “Yeah, I get why you’re hesitant,” she admitted, “But look, you don’t really have a choice. You’re part of DX now. This means you’ll be getting caught in a lot of things that aren’t really your fight,” 

Kiran clenched her jaw. That’s exactly the problem. This isn’t just heat. This is a fucking war between two men who hate eachother and Kiran has to stand at ringside as eye candy. Before Kiran could say more, a familar voice cut in. 

“Well well, look who finally made the big leagues,” 

Shawn Michaels stolled in, his signature cocky smirk in place as he wrapped an arm around Kiran.  He was far too amused for someone suddenly assigned a valet when he hadn’t had one since Sensational Sherri.  

“You saw the sheet,” Shawn said, tilting his head to Kiran, “Not bad. You get to stand next to me, make me look pretty and then maybe help me win this match,” 

Kiran grit her teeth, “I don’t valet Shawn. I wrestle,” 

Shawn chuckled, unable to see her irritation, “And you will. But sometimes, you gotta play the game first.” His smirk widened as he glanced at Chyna. “I mean, even Chyna here started as Hunter's bodyguard before everyone realized she could outlift half the damn locker room.” 

Chyna gave him a look but didn’t bother to argue. 

“This isn’t just a match though,” Kiran wasn’t letting it go, “I’m not willing to be dragged into what little feud you have with Bret Hart when it’s very much not just for camera’s,” 

Shawn let out a slow, exaggerated sigh, rubbing his jaw as if she had just asked him to solve a complex equation. “Look, Ki,” he said, turning to fully face her, “I get it. You don’t want to be a pawn. But here’s the thing—you already are.” 

Kiran’s eyes flashed with irritation.  

He continued, “The moment you stepped into DX, you became part of the feud whether you liked it or not. That’s just how this works. Besides, you aren’t just there to stand there and look pretty...well,” 

Kiran scoffed, “Thanks Shawn. Real comforting,” 

Chyna shot him another look, “Don’t be an asshole,” 

“What?” He mocked innocence, “I’m just giving her the reality check that she clearly needs. She can pout all day about this all she wants but,” He turned to Kiran again who was absolutely fizzing, “You will be walking down that ramp with me and honestly, I think you will like it,” 

Kiran took a deep breath. She was trying to will herself into keeping calm as apparently she was not winning an arguement against Shawn Michaels. Not here. Not now.  

“Oh, right,” one of the road agents called as he passed by, barely looking up from his notes. “Just a heads-up, Kiran—you’re supposed to ‘distract’ Bret at ringside. Flirt with him, get under his skin, throw him off his game.” 

Kiran froze. “…I’m sorry, what?” 

The agent gave a casual shrug, as if it were the most normal request in the world. “Boss’s orders. Nothing too crazy, just do what you gotta do. Bret’s got a temper—you get in his face a little, maybe he loses focus.” 

Kiran frantically looked at Chyna who just gave her a look that said this is the job.  

Shawn on the other hand, looked like the cat who got the cream, “Oh, it just keeps getting better and better,”  

Kiran’s fists clenched at her sides, “I am not flirting with Bret Hart...” 

Shawn snorted, “Why not? Scared he’ll take a liking to you?” 

Kiran shot him a glare that could have incinerated a lesser man, but Shawn just chuckled. 

Kiran took a sharp breath, reigning in the urge to deck him right then and there. “I’m being reduced to a cheap distraction,” 

Shawn chuckled. “It’s not cheap if it works.” 

“Easy for you to say,” Kiran shot back, crossing her arms. “You’re not the one expected to bat your eyelashes and play a game of ‘oops, did I just cost you the match?’” 

Shawn opened his mouth, but before he could get another smart remark in, the road agent—clearly not interested in this brewing argument—tapped his notepad impatiently. “Listen, it’s not a suggestion. It’s part of the act. You’re DX now, so you play your role.” He was already walking off before she could protest. 

Kiran exhaled sharply, pressing her fingers to her temples. The whole thing felt like a bad joke, except no one was laughing—except, of course, for Shawn. 

“Oh, and one more thing,” the agent called over his shoulder. “At some point, grab a headset and jump on commentary,” 

Kiran’s head snapped up. “Wait, what?” 

The agent waved dismissively before disappearing around the corner. 

Shawn, now outright grinning, nudged her with his elbow. “See? You’re already making moves. Stealing the show and you haven’t even done anything yet.” 

Kiran let out a slow exhale through her nose. This was spiraling fast. 

The arena lights dimmed before bursting to life with the pulsating beat of Shawn Michaels’ entrance music. The crowd was loud with cheers and jeers as the Showstopper strutted onto the stage basking in the attention he was born for. Right beside him, Kiran walked with measured steps, trying to exude confidence even though her stomach was twisting in knots.  

Kiran wasn’t sure what she was supposed to even do. She barely knew Shawn Michaels to have natural chemistry with him. She was trying to remind herself that this moment was an opportunity for more exposure and a chance to prove that she is worth the screentime, but she wasn’t here to fight of showcase her skills. She was a prop for a male wrestler, and she hated that.  

However, as everyone had told her, she had to play the game. But she would play it her way. Kiran watched Shawn as he flashed his signature smirk and slowly peeled off his entrance gear and chucked it to the side. She had to wonder how he was so comfortable with what he was doing.  How was he so comfortable fighting with Bret Hart tonight?  

Kiran remained at ringside, scanning the audience as she could hear the commentators talking about her.  

"There she is, folks—DX’s newest recruit, and I gotta say, she looks mighty comfortable standing beside Shawn Michaels!" Jerry King Lawler was the first one to talk about her. 

"I don’t know about that," Jim Ross chimed in. "She looks like she’d rather be in there throwing punches instead of standing on the sidelines!" 

Kiran’s lips twitched. At least someone was paying attention. 

And that was when the music shifted and she was now watching Bret Hart. A man who has made a respectable careet. No theatrics, no wasted motion. His presence was focused and serious as he moved down the ramps. She could see why Bret and Shawn hated each other. Bret didn’t even waste a glance in her direction. The tension between Shawn and Bret was palpable that even now, Kiran felt uncomfortable getting involved but she knew what she had to do tonight.  

The bell rang. The match was underway.  

Her first attempt to distract Bret was subtle—stepping onto the apron so she could try and distract Bret herself. She wasn’t one for batting her eyes at people but that was what the road agent had told her to do and well she had to try something. 

Kiran leaned forward, calling out “Hitman! Oh Bret~” But nothing. She felt ridiculous. Bret didn’t even acknowledge her.  

She tried shouting louder. Bret still didn’t turn around. 

Nothing. 

It was like trying to throw pebbles at a brick wall. Bret Hard was laser-focused ignoring every one of her provocations. Kiran felt her frustration mounting. How was she supposed to be a distraction when he wouldn’t even look her way. 

From the corner of her eye, she caught Shawn smirking at her between holds. He was clearly enjoying watching her struggle. 

Fine. If subtle wasn’t working, she would just had to work harder. The next time that Bret had Shawn in a corner, she slid into the apron and pressed her hand on the top rope as if she were going to climb in. The referee saw and he immediately turned to her to get her to go away which took his focus off the match. 

It was only a second, but it was all Shawn needed to deliver a well-timed eye poke, Bret stumbled back and released his grip. 

Kiran hopped back. Her heart was pounding as she listened to the boos and laughter. 

“Looks like DX’s newest recruit is already making herself useful!” Lawler laughed. 

Jim Ross, however, wasn’t as amused. “Oh, come on! That was a cheap shot, and you know it!” 

Kiran bit her lip to stop from smirking. She didn’t like what she was doing, but damn it, it was working. 

Shawn caught her eye for just a second and winked. 

Kiran rolled her eyes. 

The match continued, and Kiran found herself pacing ringside, trying to think of another way to follow through with what she was supposed to do. However, she turned to the commentary table where Jim Ross and Lawler were calling the match. If they wanted DX chaos, she would give it to them.  

She marched over and stole a headset from the timekeeper area and slid into an empty seat.  

"Well, since Bret Hart isn’t paying any attention to me, I figured I guess I will just talk about him instead" she announced smoothly, sliding the headset on as Lawler blinked in surprise. 

Ever the instigator, Lawler let out a delighted chuckle, “Well, look at that. We have a guest on the team,” 

Jim Ross already looked tired, “Great. Now we’ve got another one causing trouble. Like DX needs more of that,” 

Kiran leaned back in her chair as she adjusted her mic, “Aw come on, JR, don’t act like you’re not enjoying this. Besides, if Bret Hart won’t acknowledge me, I might as well give the people what they want, some real talk,” 

She crossed one leg over the other as she watched the match unfold in front of her. Bret had regained control, methodically working over Shawn’s leg, looking as if he was trying to set up the Sharpshooter. Classic Hitman. No wasted motion, just a master at his work. She had to talk smack about him but it was hard when it was Bret Hart. 

“You know,” Kiran continued, “Bret’s all about technique. Precision. He’s like one of those guys who spends all night reading the manual instead of starting the damn game – which is great if you like predictable,” 

Lawler laughed, “Ouch! You’re saying the Hitman is boring,” 

Kiran tilted her heard, feigning innocence, “I’m saying he’s reliable. But in this buisness, that’s just makes you predictable,” 

JR huffed, “Oh come on now. You’re talking about a multi-time world champion. One of the best technical wrestlers to ever lace up a pair of boots, and you’re calling him predictable,” 

As if on cue, Shawn managed to slip out of Bret’s grip, countering with a sharp elbow that sent the Hitman staggering. Kiran raised an eyebrow, as if she had known all along. 

“See, unpredictability wins every time,” she mused.  

Lawler was eating it up, laughing along, while JR was grumbling something under his breath about DX corrupting the sport. 

Kiran barely had time to enjoy the moment before she caught a glimpse of the road agent near the timekeeper’s table. He was signaling to her again. 

New orders.  

She frowned leaning slightly away from the mic so only she could hear. 

You need to make sure Bret loses.  

Kiran’s fingers curled slightly around the headset. This wasn’t what she signed up for. She thought she was here to be a distraction, a prop to keep the crowd engaged but now she had to outright interfere? 

She began to weigh her options. 

Shawn and Bret were going back and forth, trading blows, the match was hitting its peak. The crowd was at a fever pitched.  

She pulled the headset off. If they wanted her to act, she had to think on her feet. She strode back toward the ring, pacing near the apron making sure to keep the referee’s attention ion the corner of her eye. That’s when she saw it, the steel chair lying under the ring. A small idea began to form.  

If she did this right, she could give Shawn an opening without making it obvious that she was directly responsible for it. 

Sliding to the apron, she reached under and grabbed the chair and threw it in the ring, not to Shawn but near him. The referee immediately saw this and rushed to remove it which left the referee not watching the match for a few moments. This was enough to give Shawn an opening.  

A quick eye rack and a low blow out of the sight of the ref and then, Bret was down.  

The crowd erupted into boos. Shawn capitalised as he rolled Bret up.  

One. 

Two. 

Three. 

The bell rang and the match was over. Kiran had managed to do it. She barely had time to even process what she had just down before Shawn pulled her up to the ring, as his music blasted through the arena. She felt his arm sling around her shoulders before he leaned over. 

“Not bad,” Shawn whispered, clearly pleased, “You’re a natural,” 

Kiran barely heard him. 

Because, in that ring, Bret Hard was pushing himself up and leaving the ring with a storm brewing in his eyes. He wiped his chest, chest heaving and scanning the ring.  

Then, his gaze locked on her. 

All night, Bret had ignored her attempts to distract him but for the first time that night, Bret noticed her. 

And he was furious. 

The bar was alive with laughter. An air that was thick with the scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke. Once again, DX had taken over the bar to celebrate Shawn’s victory with no shortage of of whiskey, beer and cocky grins. Kiran was sat among them, still riding the high of the night, although something in her gut had not quite settled. She had played her role, done what was asked of her but the way that Bret had looked at her, it began to gnaw at her. Shawn was in the middle of an exaggerated retelling of the match, getting a laugh from Hunter and XPac when the energy in the room changed. It was unspoken but Kiran noticed it. She glanced around and her stomach dropped.  

The Hart Foundation. They had just arrived. Bret Hard, Owen Hart, British Bulldog and Jim Neidhart. They hadn’t even noticed DX. They were too busy claming their own space to notice. But Kiran could feel the tension in the air. This wasn’t just an onscreen rivalry. This was beef that went outside of the ring. It bled into nights like tonight and now, Kiran fully began to understand the weight of what she had just involved herself in. She swallowed and set down her drink, glancing at the others. DX were too wrapped up in their own world to pay attention.  Shawn especially was riding off a high  from tonights victory.  

So, Kiran quietly excused herself. She pushed her chair back and tried to keep her exit casual, but her heartbeat was hammering in her ears. The second she turned towards the bar, the presence of the Hart Foundation felt even heavier. Kiran didn’t make eye contact; didn’t even give indication she is paying them any mind.  

This wasn’t just an in-ring rivalry. This was personal.  

She reached the bar, pressing her palms against the counter trying to shake off the tension in her gut. She wasn’t scared but she wasn’t naive. She was a new player in a war that had been raging longer than she had been here. The bartender barely had time to acknowledge her before she heard someone shifting onto the stool next to her. 

“You runnin’ from something, or just need a refill?” 

Kiran knew the voice before she even looked. 

Owen Hart. 

She turned her head slightly, just enough to see his easy-going smirk as he propped an elbow on the bar. Unlike his older brother, Owen had more relaxed aura, but she wasn’t naive enough to mistake it for friendly.  

She forced a smirk, although she didn’t know how convincing it was, “Just needed a break from the noise,” 

Owen hummed, looking back towards the DX table, “Yeah,” He said, “Looking like you’re getting really comfortable,” 

Kiran’s fingers curled slightly against the counter. "What’s that supposed to mean?" 

Owen gave a small chuckle, shaking his head. "Nothing, really. Just making an observation. You fit right in. At least, that’s what Shawn seems to think." 

There was something in that that made her uneasy, but before she could say anything, another voice cut in. 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” 

Once again, the weight in the air shifted from passive tension to something more palpable. Kiran turned her head now and finally, she was locking eyes with him. Bret Hart. 

He was standing just a few feet away, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. But his eyes, they were sharp and cold, carrying that kind of angry that didn’t disappear after the bell rang. 

Instinctively, Kiran straightened her posture, “Done what?” 

Bret’s jaw tightened, and that’s when she knew, he wasn’t here to create a scene. He was here to make sure she understood something. 

“You know what,” He said lowly, “You chose to get involved in something you don’t understand,” 

Kiran didn’t flinch. Didn’t even look away, “I was doing my job,” 

Bret let out a quiet, humourless laugh. "Your job." He tilted his head, as if she had just said something pathetic. "You think this is just another storyline? That you’re just some chess piece Shawn gets to move around?" 

Kiran’s fists clenched at her sides. "I chose to be in DX. If I have to play the game to make it here, then fine. But don’t act like I don’t know what I’m doing." 

Bret’s stare was unwavering. "Then you’re dumber than I thought." 

The words struck her harder than she expected. Not because they hurt, but because of how certain he sounded. 

But before she could defend herself or even thing, she felt an arm drape around her shoulder and a louder, more obnoxious voice cut through the moment. 

“Hey hey hey, what’s going on over here?” 

Shawn Michaels.  He slid an arm around her as if he had been part of the conversation this whole time. The tension between Bret and Shawn was elective, like a live wire sparking.  

Shawn flashed a cocky grin, looking between Bret and Shawn, “Didn’t know you were a fan of our girl here, Hitman,” 

Bret didn’t find Shawn’s relaxed attitude amusing, “I was just making sure she understands what she’s gotten into,” 

Shawn’s grip on Kiran’s shoulder tightened just slightly, “Oh trust me, she knows. And so do you,” 

The words were layered, carrying a weight far beyond just tonight’s match. 

Kiran felt it. 

Bret felt it. 

Owen sensed where this was going and then let out a breath and clapped a hand on Bret’s shoulder. "Let it go, man." 

Bret didn’t move. After a long heavy moment, he exhaled sharply and took a step back. His gaze lingered on Kiran for a second before he finally turned around with Owen following close behind. The tension remained, even when they had left. Shawn was clearly still amused but he didn’t remove the grip on her shoulder. Kiran didn’t move away. 

“What was that about?” She asked, voice even. 

There was something in Shawn’s eyes. Something that was sharp and almost possessive as he turned to her, “I could ask you the same thing,” 

Kiran narrowed her gaze, “I was just getting a drink,” 

Shawn tilted his head, looking thoughtful, “Hm. Sure you were,” 

Right. 

For a moment, Kiran didn’t speak. The noise around the bar was there but, in this space, he was the only one there. Suddenly, Shawn grinned again, as if the weird tension had suddenly disappeared. 

“Well, Ki,” He began, “If you wanted Bret’s attention so badly, you could have told me,” 

Kiran scoffed, rolling her eyes as she stepped out from under his arm, “You’re so unsufferable,”  

Shawn let out a low chuckle, watching her as they walked back towards the DX table. But, behind the laughter, behind the cocky exterior, something else began to linger. Something that wasn’t there before. Something that made Kiran feel like Shawn wasn’t keen on sharing allies with the Hart Foundation. Something that made her feel like she was involved in this war, even if she didn’t want to be. 

[theobsessiveloser18]

Joshaya head cannons

•Once or twice a month they meet, spend time together (with their friends)

•Josh has had dinner at the Hunter house, Shawn and Katy love him (Even so they let him know that he must be careful With little Mayaboushka)

“I'm watching you Spawn Matthews”

“Come on Shawn, you and I are like cool cousins, you tried to change my diapers, what's changed now?”

“that you are in a 'we will see' with My adopts child”

“Don't worry dad, if he breaks my heart, his face will be stuck in the floor for my babies." She pointed to his high heels.

“That's My Dwarf Girl”

“i had a little scary”

•Maya goes to her university events, conferences, thesis exhibitions, no matter how boring the antics are she will be there trying not to fall asleep,But if there is some kind of sporting event Josh will be forced to attend, it doesn't matter if he doesn't understand them or doesn't like them, he is a little less enthusiastic than the girl But he makes sure that she doesn't get into fights With those on the opposite tribune

•Likewise, when he discovered that his future girl was an artist, he became his greatest ally (he and Riley constantly compete to see who is the number one fan). He gives her everything she needs In order for her to continue creating, and even materials to experiment with, is she going to exhibit her works at school? He arrived an hour before her and is organizing the space, he has even introduced her to The university artists, so that she continues to grow In the area

“Maybe you can study here, we would see each other daily”

“When I enter, you will be leaving, if at most we would spend a year together” He approached her in a flirtatious manner

“It would be a great year” it was a change of roles now Maya was nervous, she smiled shyly

“Yes, it would be”

•As it was said at the beginning they spend time with each other's group of friends, Josh tends to be a little ignored in Maya's, while in his she is like the favorite

•But the two of them also go out, they go to concerts, the movies, festivals, fairs, anything that screams fun means that Maya will be taking it, although generally they both contribute ideas of where to spend the time,Included in activities that only one of them likes

•What happens on Theirs outings?

Cinema:

~Maya starts an argument in the middle of the movie about what will happen next and how it will end, Josh tries to warn her, but people end up yelling at him and throwing food at him to make him shut up(She'll end up complaining about this, then they'll both laugh)

~When leaving the cinema they will eat whatever comes their way

Concerts:

~Maya will make them something related to the band(s) they are going to see, whether it be a bracelet, a pin, a ribbon, or a kerchief

“It is necessary?"

“Of course it is” (He would prefer to buy them, but oh well,Sometimes it does)

~Josh will carry her on his shoulders so she can see

Park:

~They fed the ducks,Or they'll give Ginger a little spin and pet other people's pets.

~Maya will draw everything she finds interesting, Josh will advise her to draw people for 5 dollars, it will be fine for her.

~They will take advantage to make the market

Amusement park

~They will save enough to go to all the games, literally all of them, that's why they don't go very often, but it's part of their goal list to go 3 times a year

~Many photos will be taken

~They will give away what they get in the games

“Why do you think that a philosophy student Would you have a little cow with a bow and a dress in your room?

“With your face I wouldn't be surprised if you still use a pacifier and bib to eat.

(Delight with these cuteness)😍🤩😊☺️

~Josh will carry Maya while she points out where to go (he will also carry her if she doesn't want to walk anymore or if she is very tired, he offers to do it, more than she asks).

•Maya doesn't waste the opportunity to pretend she's lost, she's amused to see Josh scared, but most of the time he'll notice, and make her believe she's really lost, just to scare her From behind before she calls him.

•She likes to give him constant playful hits on the shoulder or stomach, when he is being very nerdy, very deep, or rather when he is being himself.

•we said that That Josh is going to eat at Maya's house, but the Matthews grandparents (Amy and Allan) love having Maya at home, you could say that Amy would be a better daughter-in-law with her than with Topanga (Amy sucks at Christmas or Thanksgiving dinner at girl meets world, okay? Good)They even talk to Josh about why he shouldn't break a person's heart with that backstory.

“I have learned everything I need to know about the failed relationships of Eric, Morgan, Shawn, and even the infidelity and love drama of America's sweethearts... Yours love story is almost a mystery and frankly I am not interested, I am already raised, I will be the perfectly human right for her, I have been clear about that from the beginning.”

“Wait, wait, wait!!, that's too much” Amy warned him

“We were talking about being the good high school rebound Partner, everyone has had one” Amy looked at him confused and intrigued “Have you thought about marrying her?!”

He looked embarrassed, he didn't respond.

[master-of-the-elements]

Thursday Bangers

Thanks for the tag @thedissonantverses and @woundedsoul12

Rules for your Copy and Paste: Free form a blurb or drawing based on the weekly lyrics prompt. It doesn't have to include the prompt just whatever you're inspired to write, write it! Then tag some friends so they can play as well. It doesn't have to be finished on Thursday just post it whenever you can (you have a whole week between Thursdays).

Lyric: I'm prepared to sacrifice my life I would gladly do it twice - Mercy by Shawn Mendes

So, I haven’t done the writing that sets up this scene nor have I gotten this point in the story I’m writing, but it’s a scene that’s been in my head while writing it. As I’ve stated, the story is essentially about Davrin meeting Amir’s family and their reaction to it (plus a little more). In this scene, Rook/Amir’s brother introduces himself to Davrin when Rook isn’t around. This would be the latter half/ending part of the scene.

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

“So, you’re a Grey Warden and monster hunter? Well, that’s not good.” Lucius shook his head and stepped closer to the elf.

Davrin was confused. Both occupations usually garnered him some respect in one form or another. Why would he, a soldier himself, not approve of it?

“How so? Your father didn’t seem to have any objections.” Davrin hoped to both quell his disappointment and gain understanding from his statement.

“My father may respect you but even he would give validity to I’m what about to say.” He said flatly and then crossed his arm behind his back.

“Say it then.” Davrin replied.

“Wardens nor monster hunters are necessarily known for their stability nor are they known for their fidelity. Amir deserves both!” He frowned his brows and looked the bigger man in the eye.

“I only have for eyes for him, and I can assure you I can and have been taking care of him since the day we’ve met.” Davrin didn’t flinch and stared right back.

He shrugged and sneered before retorting “I’m sure you have.” Though verbal jab was drenched in sarcasm, Davrin wanted to make sure he was clear.

“That’s not what I meant! Rook and I have planned a future together.”

“Seriously? You’re feeding him that drivel! I’m a soldier myself! I know what lies we tell our lovers. You don’t even call him by his given name.” He rolled his eyes dismissively and turn to walk away, but Davrin grabbed his collar and forced him look at him.

“I love Amir! I would follow him all over Thedas if he asked! To the moon even!” The warden made sure to keep eye contact as he could see Lucius was in shock.

“I’m willing to do anything to make sure he’s safe! Die even! Twice, if necessary.” His face had gone from shock to relaxed and Davrin could tell he’d conveyed his intentions. Would it be enough for him to approve?

“And there it is.” Lucius now wore a smirk on his face and the elf raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“That’s the other thing you wardens and hunters are known for. Dying.” Davrin’s eyes widened and then glared in anger.

“My brother deserves someone who’s willing to live for him. To grow old with. Can you assure that, warden?” Lucius asked smugly.

“Of course! We’ve made plans to settle down and- “

 “So, you’ve found a cure for your… predicament?”

Davrin finally flinched. How did he know about the Calling? Who told him?

“Amir’s not the only one with warden friends.” The young man said with a smirk.

 The warden gnashed his teeth in frustration.

Purposely, Lucius asked questions he already knew the answer to.

“Well, did you find one? Oh! Perhaps, you already taken it?”

The warrior had no response.

“Just as I thought.” The young man removed the warden's hands from his collar and proceeded to throw one last verbal jab.

“My brother has already mourned a young lover. You should consider if you want to put him through that again.”

As Davrin looked at him in total shock, Lucius knew he'd completely caught him off guard.

“Oh? You didn’t know? Pity.” Lucius turned around and strutted to the door.

He gave one final glare and left the room.

All Davrin could do was sit on the bed and process everything that was said.

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It still needs polishing and it will probably take 2 or 3 chapters before I get there, but when I read the lyric this is what came to mind.

Very soft tags for @thatgaymerguyb, @ryoskuna, @megaeratheefury, @covertleathers and anyone else who wants to participate.

[dilanmoodboards]

Hold You Close Tonight (Shawnter)

Paring: Triple H/Shawn Michaels

Summary: After DX fight Legacy at Hell in Cell 2009, Hunter takes care of Shawn.

Tags: mild Hurt/Comfort; Fluff; Domestic Fluff; Established Relationship; Bathing/Washing; Taking Care of Injuries; Concussions

Notes: This kinda got away from me I trully didn't know where this fic was going. But this match just has so much slash potential that I had to write something for it. I also just love damsel in distress Shawn. I've been binge watching Ted Lasso and studying for my IELTS so the text may be sounding a little british. English is not my first language and I'm dyslexic af, so feel free to correct anything. Comments are always welcome.

Word Count: 2,445

It was never easy walking backstage after Hell in a Cell, and no one knew this better than Hunter, but he couldn’t help the feeling of helplessness as he watched Shawn go into the trainer's room with a slight limp in his step and his hand on the back of his head. Hunter himself was actually pretty fresh, the way they had set up the match had ment he spent very little time in the ring. 

Him and Shawn had thought that the idea of leaving one of them locked out of the cell would be an interesting way of innovating the format, especially considering that the PPV was going to have three Hell In A Cell matches. But now as he walked back to the locker room with the image of Shawn helplessly grasping for him from inside the cell as Rhodes and DiBiase taunted him fresh in his memory, he couldn’t help but feel like that had been one of the worst ideas they ever had.

Hunter decided to go to his locker room and shower while Shawn was in the trainers, he knew very well that the blonde hated when Hunter fussed over him. He also wanted to go back to the hotel as early as possible. Once he finished and got out of the showers, he thought it was strange that Shawn wasn’t back yet, fixing up both of their bags Hunter went to the trainers, deciding that Shawn could shower at the hotel.

The improvised med bay was fuller than it would have been in any other show, but this was Hell in a Cell, it wasn’t a joke when they said that the cell took its price. Shawn was sitting at one of the tables with one of the doctors looking at his head, while another one  bandaged his knee. Ted DiBiase Jr. was talking to Shawn, and by the pitiful look on his face he seemed to be apologizing for something. Cody also had his head down and seemed to be anxiously moving on his heels.

“Hey Showstopper, how you feeling?!” Hunter said as a way of announcing his presence to the people in the room. Both Rhodes and DiBiase whipped their heads around at the sound of his voice, as if they were worried about something. That got Hunter’s attention, it was common knowledge among the wrestlers that Hunter and Shawn were a couple, and that the Game did not play around when it came to his boyfriend getting hurt. A lot of guys found themselves on the bottom of the card after a botched move against the Heartbreak Kid. 

Shawn may have changed his ways, but Triple H was not above using his influence if anyone happened to hurt his man.

“I would be much better if you could stop yelling.” Shawn answered, moving his head in Hunter’s direction and instantly flinching as the light from the door hit his eyes. “So what seems to be the problem doc?” Hunter asked the doctor working on Shawn’s head. “He has a mild concussion. I would suggest going to the hospital to get a CT scan, but I know how stubborn you wrestlers are, so I’m not going to bother. His knee is also a little swollen, nothing, a little ice and immobilization can’t fix.” Hunter gave a look at Shawn’s knee and then at his face. Shawn just gave him one of his signature smiles. “Don’t worry big man, I’ll be fine.” Shawn said with a yawn “Just need some sleep.”

“Yeah, about that I wouldn’t recommend him sleeping for the next hour. He needs rest, but it was a nasty bump to his head, his pupils are dilated and he’s dizzy." The doctor said, “One hour is probably enough to make sure nothing worse happened. I suggest someone should stay the night with him. Maybe his wife?” Shawn gave a little snort at that, “Don’t worry doc, my wife will take real good care of me.” Hunter glared at his boyfriend, but didn’t say anything. Right now he was more worried about Shawn’s health than him being a smartass.

DiBiase stared nervously at the both of them, he looked like he wanted to say something, but wasn’t certain if he should. Lucky for him, Shawn seemed to have made the decision in his place. “Hey kid, don't sweat it, accidents happen. Besides, this isn’t the first time I got a concussion. You and Rhodes go celebrate Orton’s victory.” Once Shawn was done speaking he gave each one of the guys a light tap on the shoulder, Rhodes and DiBiase looked like they still wanted to say something, but Shawn shooed them away.

Once his knee was fully bandaged up, Shawn jumped from the med table, clapping both his hands. “Well doc it was nice seeing you, but it’s time for me to go to the hotel to meet with my wife.” Shawn gave extra emphasis on the word wife and smiled widely at Hunter, who just rolled his eyes. “Come on showstopper, let’s get you to the hotel.”

The ride to the hotel was silent, although Shawn had appeared to be in high spirits while they were in the trainers, Hunter could notice that the older man was tired, his eyes drooping from time to time. Keeping the doctor’s warning in mind he would lightly tap Shawn’s thigh when he almost fell asleep, they were too old now to disregard doctor’s orders like they once did. Shawn seemed to agree with him because he didn’t complain. 

Every time they would stop at a red light Hunter couldn’t help but stare at Shawn, worry clear on his face. Many times during the match he had come close to just bursting from gorilla and stopping the beat down on his boyfriend. Shawn played the damsel in distress very well and it had made Hunter almost believe that the older blonde truly thought he had been abandoned by his partner. 

Of course Hunter would never truly abandon him, they went through too much together for anything to separate them. Hell, Shawn probably knew that Hunter would have broken the chain with his bare hands if he believed Shawn was in any real danger. Still Hunter felt like shit. Shawn’s broken face as he walked away would probably haunt him forever. 

Once they got to the hotel, Hunter took both their bags out of the car and started to make his way to the elevator, always keeping a close eye on Shawn to see if the blonde wouldn’t need any help. 

Their room was nice, a real step up from the crappy motels they had stayed at when they were younger. Now with both of them having established careers and the company thriving, not to mention good financial investments from both of them, they could finally afford to stay in nice rooms in expensive 5 star hotels. 

Normally a pay per view victory for them would mean celebration, not the kind they used to do back in the day, but something more personal between the two of them. But tonight Shawn seemed like he could drop at any moment so their celebration would probably have to wait. 

“Get undressed, I’m running you a bath.” Hunter said once he placed their bags on one of the couches. “Ooh, someone is getting frisky.” Shawn’s voice carried a flirty lilt to it, but he did as he was told. “It’s not like that heartbreaker. Wouldn’t want to aggravate any injuries you might have.” Hunter had set about the bathroom, filling up the tub and gathering the supplies needed for a nice warm bath. 

“Not like you can actually fuck me that hard.” Shawn said as he entered the bathroom. “Nice try, but you’re not goading me into fucking you today.” Hunter gave Shawn a peck on his lips and a light tap on his butt. “Now get into the bath showstopper.” Once Shawn was settled, Hunter took the shower supplies out of their bag and started to carefully wash Shawn’s hair. The older man almost purred when Hunter’s strong hands started caressing his hair, relaxing into the bath and allowing his man to pamper him.

“You really hit your head hard didn’t you?” Hunter’s voice was tinged with concern as he focused on a specific spot of Shawn’s scalp. The older blonde gave a small hiss when the other’s hands prodded against the small bump that was starting to form on his head. “Sorry.” Hunter said as he gave Shawn's head a kiss. He continued washing Shawn, massaging certain spots he knew would be sore from the match.

“Why don’t you soak a little bit, while I get an ice pack ready for you.” Hunter kissed Shawn’s cheek as he got up from his position. Shawn sighted letting the warm water do the work on his tired body, although he often complained when Hunter fussed over him, he also loved getting pampered.

Hunter tidied the room, setting a pair of sweats on the bed for Shawn and changing into one of his own. He then went to their gym bags and took one of the ice packs they carried around, as well as one of the hot packs for Shawn’s back. He placed the ice pack in the freezer and set about heating water to put in the water bag. 

Once he was done he returned to the bathroom. Shawn was almost falling asleep in the water, but perked up once Hunter arrived. Shawn rinsed himself off of the remaining suds and with Hunter’s help got out of the bath. Hunter wrapped a fluffy towel around his boyfriend and kissed him lightly on the lips. “There, bet you’re feeling much better now.” Shawn just smiled at him, content in being in the taller blonde’s embrace.

They both made their way to the room, while Shawn dried himself and changed into the sweats, Hunter was checking on the heating water. When it finally boiled he turned off the stove and filled the water bag. Shawn laid down on his stomach on the bed while Hunter placed the hot pack on his lower back. When the hot object made contact with his skin he couldn’t help but groan as he felt his muscles relax. 

Hunter just sat by Shawn’s side on the bed, neither man saying anything. This wasn’t an unusual scenario for them, it seemed the older they got the more common it was for one of them to be laying injured in a hotel bed. But at least they weren’t alone. 

Shawn stretched his hand and grasped Hunter’s, slowly bringing it to his mouth and lightly kissing it. “What’s bothering you, big man?” Hunter thought he had done a pretty good job of hiding his feelings from Shawn, but as always the older wrestler seemed to be able to read him like a book. “It’s nothing… I need to check the ice pack.” 

Shawn craned his neck awkwardly to watch Hunter, something was certainly bothering the younger man, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. Like sure, he was hurt, but it was nothing any of them hadn’t been through multiple times. 

Hunter made his way back to the bed. “Time to switch the packs.” Shawn reached for his back and took the water bag, handing it to Hunter, who placed it on the bedside table. “Can you hold me while I ice my knee?” Shawn asked as he tidied himself on the bed. “Of course.” Hunter handed Shawn the ice pack and sat on the bed with his legs spread. Shawn sat in the middle of Hunter’s legs and rested his torso against his boyfriend after placing the ice pack on his injured knee. Hunter then wrapped his arms around Shawn and pulled the blonde closer, holding him tightly. 

They stayed like that for some time, before Shawn finally spoke. “Did I do something wrong?” Hunter was shocked by the question, of course not, how could Shawn even think that? 

“Like there’s obviously something bothering you, and it definitely wasn’t the match, because the match went great, except for my concussion, but we’ve had concussions before, and it’s never that serious, and you never got like this over a concussion and you know you can tell me if it’s something I did because you know sometimes I don’t notice when I do something wrong and then everyone is like How could you? but if I ask what I did wrong they get even angrier and then I feel like shit and…” Shawn was rambling, something he had the habit of doing when he was nervous, and Hunter needed to stop it before it turned into a spiral. So in a panic he turned Shawn’s face and kissed him. 

“Sorry… you were rambling.” Hunter said as the kiss ended. “And it’s not you. You were great today, it’s just… forget it.” Shawn had completely forgotten he was supposed to stay still and was now kneeling in front of Hunter. “Hunt, do you remember our rule? No hiding our feelings from each other, it has done enough harm through the years.” Shawn had both his hands cupping Hunter’s face, lightly playing with the hairs in his beard.

Hunter took a deep breath. “I feel bad for leaving you in the match, I know we planned it and we both agreed to it. But I still feel bad.” Shawn couldn’t help but kiss him. “That’s actually really sweet Hunt.” Hunter tugged Shawn closer, hugging him as tight as possible. “It’s okay, I know you wouldn’t leave me big man.” They stayed like that for a while, just taking in the closeness from each other.

“You play a really convincing damsel in distress.” Shawn laughed at that. “I know, it’s part of my charm. Now let’s get this ice pack off the sheets before it soaks the bed.” As Shawn started to get up Hunter pulled him down. “I’ll do it, you stay in bed.” Hunter got up and took the nearly completely melted ice pack from the bed and put it back in the freezer. He also emptied the water bag and took fresh bandages from their gym bag.

After finishing wrapping up Shawn’s knee Hunter got on the bed, laying by his boyfriend’s side and pulling him into a hug. Shawn pecked Hunter’s lips as he whispered goodnight to the larger man. In seconds he was out like a light, the stress of the day finally washing away from him and Hunter soon followed. And if for the next few days he held Shawn a little tighter, well, the heartbreak kid didn’t mind.

[dumbass-duo-showdown]

DUMBASS DUO SHOWDOWN ROUND 3 BATTLE 1

MONKEY D LUFFY & RORONOA ZORO (aka zolu) VS SHAWN SPENCER & GUS

PROPAGANDA

ZOLU

I could rant about them for actual hours but like it's so hard to put thoughts down. But literally an actual quote was someone telling Zoro that "you promised you wouldn't cause trouble" and Zoro replies, EXACT WORDS, "I had no choice because I ran into Luffy." There was also an exchange where Zoro was giving Luffy food and Luffy warns him it might be poison while eating it and Zoro is just like "huh, so that's why my stomach was hurting". They also both swung from vines once and BOTH decided to Tarzan yell. They agreed it was a requirement. Also, Luffy once said he didn't wanna be a hero because heros would share their meat and he wants all of it, and Zoro entirely separately says the SAME THING BUT WITH BOOZE INSTEAD. There are so many examples of them sharing a single braincell. More than I could ever list. But those are the examples I thought of off the top of my head.

On the surface, Zoro seems to have some common sense, and only follows Luffy’s dumb schemes out of respect. Then Nami joins and you realize that Zoro’s seriousness IS his dumbassedness. He and Luffy have one track minds for their own goals and wants, and while they may clash, they have a decent amount of respect for each other.

haven’t finished one piece yet but one example: zoro when stuck figured cutting off his feet would be a genius idea and luffy is luffy. there’s never any thoughts going on in that head

When I first started One Piece I thought Zoro was going to be the badass smart counterpart to the dumbass protagonist just like Vegeta or Sasuke. Turns out I couldn't be more wrong. Him and Luffy are besties and share one brain cell and even thou Zoro uses it most of the time it's still one.

They share one single braincell at the same time: after being seriously injured in a battle, one wakes up to drink sake the other to eat meat. One almost cut a Noble (which means being pursued til death by the most powerful marines), the other actually punches said Noble. One gest stuck between buildings, the other inside a chimney for absolutely unrelated reasons

Their solution to everything is to fight it. They never have a plan and just rush into everything. Somehow they are technically the leaders of the group as captain and first mate. They have both at some point attempt to cut or tear their legs or arms off to get out something. They used the same metaphor to explain why they aren’t a hero without hearing the other say it (a hero would share their meat/booze I want to keep it all to myself).

they said let us cut/punch a hole trough a giant tsunami and they did it <3 also one time they were suppossed to lay low, but well they both immediately started robbing and attacking a town and being recognized and labeled as criminals in a new country. they don't even share a braincell, whatever braincell they had before immediately leave as soon as they both are together, also King of the Pirates and World Greatest Swordsman dreamteam, also for lasagne thing not only would the house be gone, the city be burning and they are fleeing the police while also fighting the police

They're just soooo stupid. Zoro can't walk to steps without getting lost. So Luffy will yank him miles through the air to land on wood. Or stone. Or some other hard substance. Luffy would fight someone on accident for meat. And Zoro for booze. And they have no brain cells between them. Zoro new Luffy for approx. 3 seconds before he decided he would die for him. And Luffy heard about this big scary bounty hunter who was captured by marines and went. I need him on my crew. They're perfect for each other.

I dont where to begin. One of their latest feats though is them going into the enemy base, Meaning to sneak in, Luffy went in after another guy, Zoro after Luffy, luffy then Announced himself, started a fight bc ppl wasted food on purpose, ZORO hearing a commotion, SLICED THROUGH A BUILDING TO GET TO LUFFY AND THEN REPRIMANDED LUFFY FOR FORGETTING THE PLAN AND BEING UNABLE TO BE QUIET. THEN. T H E N LUFFY SAYS HE SPILT FOOD ON PURPOSE AND ZORO IS INSTANT LIKE oh ok. They gotta die. (Theres more to it but thats the gist. And thats not even. Much. They r just so stupid together <33)

they both get lost very easily, they will throw hands with anyone, very stupid but very understanding, were a 2 person pirate crew that sailed around on a rowboat, motivated entirely by fighting, meat, and sake, neither is particularly literate one time luffy got his hand stuck in a bottle and zoro tried to get it out by cutting his hand off, yes this happened in a canon episode

look, I have a tag for them that's literally #pair of idiots.

Gus & Shawn

They’ve been friends canonically since at least 3 years old and at the start of the show they’re I wanna say 30 maybe? And yet these two grown men are THE most chaotic idiots (affectionate) in the whole show (and let’s be real anywhere). The entire show in fact hinges on the idea that they’re dumbasses and WILL get into carat shenanigans. Episode examples include the one where they are investigating an alien abduction, the one where they’re looking for big foot, the vampire one, all of these by the way they hundred percent believe to be true until they themselves unwillingly prove otherwise. And maybe the most dumbass moment of all time, when Gus finds his boss dead and instead of calling the cops he gets his dna ALL OVER THE CRIME SCENE, calls Shane to help clean up and Shawn gets HIS DNA ALL OVER THE CRIME SCENE AS WELL!!!! Truly cannot think of a worse reaction to finding a dead body. They’ve been sucking that single brain cell that exists between them dry for over 3 decades now and they show no signs of stopping.

they are such idiots (affectionate) and they can't live without each other

they are. so stupid. both of them can be smart in their own ways but when you put them together the dumb best friends energy is unmatched. they are platonic soulmates pretending that shawn has psychic powers and solve crimes by dicking around and somehow always coming out alive. they accidentally befriend the criminals they’re supposed to be investigating constantly. they’re always one step away from being fired or arrested bc of their dumbassery

the entire show is literally shawn pretending to be a psychic (← dumbass behavior) and gus aiding and abetting him and actively a dumbass as well

If you have seen even a single episode of this show, you know these two fools are the best duo ever. Constantly bantering theough 80s movie references and animal like noises, most often above a dead body, these two bring unique different dummy energy that both brings each other up and builds up their own skills along the way. I will love these two men until the day I die and they deserve an honest chance to be the best dumbass duo of all time!

[angela-moore1996]

I Love You, Donna Karan

show: boy meets world <3

pairing: shawn hunter x angela!reader

synopsis: pretty much exactly like s5 e8 of bmw (just the shawngela parts <3)

word count: 3.5k

comments, likes, reblogs, and suggestions highly appreciated <3

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

"So, I guess that's it. It's over," you sighed, gently pulling your hands back from Shawn's. You sat in a booth at Chubby's across from him, and he was letting you down easy. Not that you were phased. You knew what you were signed up for dating him.

"Two weeks," Shawn smiled apologetically, clasping his hands together. "You knew that going in."

"I did," you nodded, grabbing your things and standing up to leave.

"Wait...w-where are you going?" Shawn looked up at you with his puppy dog eyes.

You scoffed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were done letting me down easy. Go ahead," you raised your eyebrows as you sat back down.

Shawn looked a bit taken aback, "Never mind."

"Are you okay?" you frowned.

"You're just taking this so well," he scrunched up his face like he couldn't understand how someone could still be standing after he rejected them.

"It was a great two weeks. We had fun," you stated plainly.

"Yeah, we did," he agreed.

"So?"

"So...see ya?"

You quirked your lips, nodding slightly before grabbing your things and leaving the booth. You glanced back at him before climbing up the stairs to the exit, unable to figure out his true intentions.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

Shawn Hunter might be a heartbreaker, but you were no saint either. You dated around, landing on Ted, a guy from your history class who seemed semi-interesting. You were regretting your earlier judgements as he seemed to love talking about himself and stealing your fries more than anything. You sat across from him in Chubby's, consequently the same booth you had shared with Shawn that day you broke up last week.

"So, Angela, the coach says, 'Scooter!' That's what he calls me, Scooter," the boy smiled, so full of himself it made you physically cringe. "'Go in there and save the day.'"

"Gee what happened, Scooter?" you rested your chin in your palm, trying for a grin. How could someone be so interested in himself and so boring to talk to at the same time? You have to make an effort not to roll your eyes. That would be rude. At this point, you would give anything not to hear another one of his heroic tales from the lacrosse team. He was on the bench for God's sake.

"Well, I saved the day," he continued, pointing at himself with both hands like it wasn't clear enough that he couldn't talk about anything else. Then, he leaned forward and had the audacity to ask, "You wanna make out?"

Thankfully, your knight in shining armor appeared...in the form of Shawn. This was going to be interesting. At this point, anything was better than having to press your lips against Ted's crusty, chapped ones.

"Hey, Shawn," you reached out to pat his arm.

"Hey," Shawn replied. He reached down and picked up your book. "Is this...a book of sonnets?" he sounded surprised for whatever reason.

"Yes," you said incredulously, raising one eyebrow.

Shawn started giggling maniacally, and for some reason, it was contagious. You laughed lightly, asking, "Why are you giggling?"

"Am I?" His voice broke a little because of how high-pitched it was. This only made him giggle even more.

"What's the matter with you?" you frowned, genuinely confused by his behavior.

He turned around, still laughing like a little kid. You saw that he was locking eyes with Cory, who said something to him that you didn't quite catch.

Shawn turned around, locking eyes with you now. He stared straight into your eyes, and you were more than a little weirded out.

"Shawn, why are you looking at me like that?" You were serious now. You didn't like how strange he was being at all.

"Because I never have before...," he trailed off, dropping your book before walking away to talk to Cory.

What a weirdo, you thought before shaking your head and turning back to Ted.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

On Monday morning, you walked into school early to ask Mr. Feeny a question about the history test. You found Shawn talking to Cory (who's surprised?) and walked up to them, hoping to talk to Shawn about the weirdness at Chubby's. Cory caught your eye, and it seemed like he was announcing your arrival to Shawn which caused him to turn around, look terrified, and bolt in the other direction.

Okay, now he was being even weirder than that night at Chubby's. You were suddenly nervous which made no sense. You were Angela Moore, you didn't get butterflies over boys.

Shawn ran into the janitor's closet and slammed the door behind him. Cory tried to open the door, but Shawn had evidently locked it.

"Hi, Angela," Cory smiled apologetically.

"Hi, Cory," you smiled back, raising your eyebrows.

"Uh, Shawn's in the closet," Cory explained as if you didn't just see him bolt in two seconds ago.

You walked up to the closet, pressing your ear lightly against the door. "Hey, Shawn," you greeted.

"Angela! You smell nice," Shawn replied.

You frowned. "What?" you mouthed to Cory. You rolled your eyes, walking away.

"Hey, Topanga," you greeted as you passed her.

"Hey, Angela," she replied back, walking to Cory.

You went to get some water from the drinking fountain before realizing how chapped your lips were. You knew Topanga would have some lip gloss you could borrow, so you walked back over to the corner she and Cory were in. Shawn was with them, so you guessed he got over his stay in the janitor's closet. When he saw you, he tried to bolt back into the closet before Topanga stopped him and pushed him toward you. What was going on?

"Hey, Shawn," you laughed a little at the frazzled state he was in.

"Hi," he smiled shyly.

"Do you wanna go out and get something to eat later?" you asked. This way you could talk to him, just as friends, without it being weird.

"I'd like that," he replied.

You nodded. "Oh, I saw this, and I thought of you," you smiled, pulling out a seashell you found on the lake trip you took with your dad the day before. You handed it to him before leaving, "See ya."

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

The next day, you found yourself at Chubby's again after school. You picked a table near the stairs this time, with high swivel chairs. Shawn walked over to where you were sitting after picking a song on the jukebox.

"Vivaldi's Four Seasons, I love that," you smiled up at him.

"So do I!" Shawn sounded genuinely enthusiastic.

"It's so beautiful. If you close your eyes, you can actually see the seasons change," you closed your eyes briefly, seeing it even now.

"I said that!" Shawn was smiling a mile wide. "I said the exact same thing." He took a sip of his cola.

"You know, I really like hanging out with you. Maybe we could see a movie later on this week," you suggested.

"I hear there's a new Van Damme movie opening," Shawn grinned, almost as if he knew...

"I love Van Damme," you beamed at him.

"I know," he let out a laugh. "So, how about Friday night?"

"Oh, I have plans with Ted that night," you rolled your eyes.

"You're still going out with Ted?" Shawn sounded taken aback.

"Yeah," you said slowly, scoffing a little.

"Oh." Why did he sound...disappointed? "I'd better go check on our food." He turned to leave.

What the heck was that? you thought, sighing. We're just friends, why is he acting so weird?

"Well, here we go," Shawn returned with your fries.

"Great," you picked one up to munch on.

"Can I ask you something?" Shawn was staring at you again...just like the other day you were at Chubby's.

"You can ask me anything." You meant it.

"What do you think of Cory and Topanga?" he licked his lips, seemingly nervous like he needed you to tell the truth.

"I think they're a great couple," you nodded, satisfied with your response.

"Maybe we can have what they have." Well, that came out of nowhere.

"Shawn, we're not even dating," you frowned up at him.

"What do you call what we're doing right now?" Oh God, he didn't seriously think that...

"You asked me out on a date, right?" he smiled nervously.

"I asked you to go get something to eat," you stated plainly. So, this is why he was being weird. He...liked you. So why did your heart feel a pang as you let him down easy like he let you down two weeks ago? Why did you feel like saying yes to him despite everything?

"You gave me a seashell," his eyes were pleading now.

You looked down before staring back up into his eyes, "Sometimes a seashell is just a seashell." A beat.

"Look, Angela, I want to be with you more than anybody in this entire world," his eyes carried so much emotion that it was beginning to overwhelm you. "Why can't we be Cory and Topanga?"

You frowned, looking down at the food before turning your eyes back to his. "I'm sorry. I gotta go," you frowned at him, grabbing your bag and making a quick exit up the stairs.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

On Friday, you were once again at Chubby's. That place seriously got a run for its money from the entire John Adams High student body. Even now, you saw about twenty of your classmates warming the other booths.

You were in the same booth as you were during your last date with Ted. This time, he sat next to you. He was chatting it up about his favorite subject per usual: himself. You sighed, munching on a fry and listening to his pathetic lacrosse bench boy tales when in came Shawn.

Why did he always crash your dates with Ted?

This time, he cut straight to the point, heading for your booth and sliding in across from the two of you. He held his hands up, "Angela, hear me out. It will just take a minute. You don't mind, do you?" This was directed to Ted.

"You want a fry?" Ted mumbled, his mouth full. Gross.

Shawn shook his head before continuing, "Look, I read the same books as you, I listen to the same music, and I go to the same movies. So when I tell you how I feel, it is not just words."

"Hunter, I'm on a date here. Come on," Ted grumbled. You glanced at him, frowning, before turning your attention back to Shawn.

"Why are you doing this?" you needed to know. Why was he pursuing you relentlessly? So he could break your heart for real next time? "We went out. You told me it was only going to be for two weeks, and then it was going to be over."

"I know that you're scared, okay? I'm scared, too." Shawn gestured with his hands, "We both love Vivaldi, and we're both scared."

"I'm scared, too," Ted cut in. You rolled your eyes in exasperation, before turning back to Shawn.

"Shawn, you've never been in a relationship for longer than two weeks, and neither have I. We wouldn't know what to do," you stared into his eyes, searching for some sign of his sincerity.

"You know what?" Ted cut in. "This is getting too heavy for me, so I'm taking my fries and I'm leaving."

"Ted!" You cried, only halfheartedly.

"Oh, I paid for these fries," he stated before walking out.

You didn't mind him leaving that much. It almost felt like he was crashing your conversation with Shawn rather than the other way around.

"Give me a chance," you had never seen Shawn more serious in the short time you'd known him. "I-I just want to see you."

You lowered your head, glancing up at him, trying to discern whether this was a terrible idea that would crash and burn in the next week.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

You were at Barelli's the next night, next to Shawn. This was definitely a step up from Chubby's, but you weren't sure if all this was necessary. You had worn the nicest thing you owned, a hunter green sleeveless dress. The table was covered with a white tablecloth that was the cleanest thing you had ever seen, and you didn't recognize half the dishes on the menu, including the strange appetizer currently on your table.

"Shawn, this is really fancy," you gestured down at everything covering the table.

"You think this is fancy? I don't think it's that fancy," he took a sip of water as you did. As soon as the glasses left your lips, two waiters were there ready to replace them. Shawn glanced at you, trying not to show how nervous he was.

"Shawn and Angela!" you turned around, finding Cory and Topanga, dressed to the stars. "What a surprise, huh?" Cory chuckled.

"Hi, guys," Topanga looked perplexed at finding you and Shawn here.

"Talk about coincidences," Cory looked too happy for this to be accidental. Of course, he would plan something like this. "Of all the restaurants in the town."

"Yeah, and all the suits," Shawn added, which you didn't understand, but you shrugged it off.

"Enjoy," Cory and Topanga left you to find their own table.

The maitre d' appeared, "I have come to take your order. You no touch the pate. It's not good?"

"I really don't know what it is," Shawn frowned up at the maitre d'.

"It's...como si dice? Goose liver," he answered.

You swallowed, trying not to gag in front of the fancy maitre d' while Shawn made his grossed-out face at you.

"You requested it when you telephoned this afternoon," he continued.

"When I called, did I sound like I had curly hair and was ninety?" Shawn asked.

"Si," the maitre d' responded jovially.

After he left, you turned to your companion. "Shawn, you said you knew me. If you really knew me, why would you bring me here?"

Shawn hesitated, then pursed his lips before starting, "Because I have...no idea what I'm doing." Another pause. He started gesturing with his hands, "I-I don't know how to be myself around you. I really want you to like me, Angela."

"I do like you. If I didn't I wouldn't be here," you responded genuinely.

"So, then why is this so hard?" Shawn sounded slightly exasperated.

"I've never had a serious relationship either," you admitted. "Every time I got close to someone, I just figured it was best to get away before we hurt each other. Is someone gonna get hurt here, Shawn?"

Shawn looked long and hard at you before saying simply, "No. No, not if we're ourselves."

You looked down, swallowing, trying to convince yourself to believe he was being sincere.

"Hey, Eduardo," Shawn signaled over the maitre d'.

"Si?"

"Could you get rid of this and just bring us a couple of burgers?"

"You no like?" the maitre d' sounded miffed.

"No," Shawn stated simply, giving you a small smile.

"We like burgers," you added, returning the smile.

The maitre d' clapped, thankfully asking no further questions. "Barelli's is a place where all your dreams come true." He snapped his fingers at the waiter. "Two burgers!"

"Fries," you called. Very important.

"Oh, yeah, and get some ketchup, too," Shawn added. Essential.

"Hmm!" the maitre d' looked appalled, but he turned away, complying with your wishes.

Shawn turned back to you, "Do you mind if I take this tie off?"

"Oh, please, never wear a tie again, okay?" you leaned forward to loosen it for him. Shawn chuckled. "Why do you have that thing anyway? It can't be yours."

Shawn worked at loosening his tie further, tilting his head as he looked up at you, "Well, you know, I'm not one to give up any names, but...Cory. All of this was Cory." He smiled apologetically, "He's a good guy. He just wants us to have what he and Topanga have.

The two of you glanced over to the other side of the restaurant.

"That's it! I have had it!" Topanga stood up, throwing down her napkin, raising her hands up in frustration at Cory. "I don't want to put the Sweet'N Low in my purse!"

Cory shushed her vigorously, glancing around surreptitiously as if checking to make sure no one had heard her outburst. "You're going to get us in trouble in our place!"

"I don't want this to be our place!" Topanga screeched.

"You're ruining our anniversary!" Cory whined.

"What anniversary is this anyway? Is this the first time we kissed? The first time we went out? The first time we met? What? What is it?" Topanga was running her mouth a mile a minute, drilling Cory faster than you could keep up.

"It's the anniversary of the first time we ate at Barelli's! How could you forget?" poor Cory sounded genuinely upset.

"Because I hate Barelli's!" Topanga sounded even more upset. "I am 50 years away from going to Barelli's! Can't we just go downtown and grab a pretzel from a cart?!"

"Fine! I'm not making you happy? Go!" Cory shouted. "You think you're going to find somebody else at your age?"

Topanga was clearly holding back her next words, bringing her hands up, her perfect french manicure glinting in the dim lighting of the restaurant.

The maitre d' came back out with a consternated expression, "Signora Topanga, I must request that you keep your voice down!" He sounded pained.

Topanga actually growled at the maitre d' who recoiled immediately. "Thank you so much," he left quickly at that.

As comical as your friends' fight was, you couldn't help but feel nervous. "This is what scares me. You get close to someone, and you end up hating each other."

"Angela, there's nothing to be scared of," Shawn gave you that boyish grin he had perfected over his many years of flirting. "When two people are truly, truly in love, there's no way they can end up hating each other."

"Cory, look at us!" you turned your attention back to Topanga who was once again taking it out on Cory. "I am yelling at you, and you're not even getting mad at me."

"Grrr," Cory gave the saddest attempt at a growl you had ever witnessed. Even the baby lion cubs at the zoo could do better. You had to laugh at that, grinning at Shawn to know it was okay.

Topanga laughed in his face, "You call that a growl? That was pathetic."

Cory's face split into the inkling of a smile, "Well, I could never really get mad at you."

Topanga was calmer now, "Cory, I just don't want to celebrate any more occasions."

"I-I was just doing it 'cause I thought that's what you wanted," Cory looked more amused than anything else.

"No! I just want to be seventeen."

"Me too." At that, Cory cleared the table, pushing all the expensive dishes off the table where they crashed loudly into the ground. Eduardo came out of the kitchen, screaming as Cory pushed Topanga against the table, kissing her so passionately that it would make Romeo jealous.

You and Shawn grinned at them. "Shawn?"

"Angela?" he turned back to face you.

"I want what they have," you said before leaning in to plant a gentle kiss to his soft pink lips. Pulling apart, you looked up at him, noticing for the first time that there was a little green in those ocean eyes of his. You smiled at each other, realizing that everything would be okay. You would give this a try because you knew you could trust him to like you as much as you found yourself liking him.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

A week later, Shawn picked you up to come over for Thanksgiving at the apartment with Eric and Jack. The Matthews were with you, arms loaded up with various dishes for the big dinner.

Morgan opened the door to the apartment.

"Hey! Look, Jack, they found our turkey," clearly Eric had failed to procure and cook one himself. He eyed the one Mr. Feeney was holding with palpable relief written all over his face.

"Did you two actually believe that we thought you could pull this off, huh?" Mr. Matthews asked them as he walked in.

"You guys can't make toast," Morgan smirked at them.

"Eric, do you at least have some clean dishes?" Mrs. Matthews asked, disappointment already on her face.

"No," he grinned at his mom, totally unashamed at the barren state of his kitchen.

"I'll carve the bird," Mr. Feeney pronounced. "Now, everybody wants dark meat, right?"

"No!" everyone shouted in unison.

"I'm so glad I'm here, Shawn," you smiled up at him. He held out his hand for your taking before he walked the two of you into the apartment.

"Um, before we sit down, I'd like to say thanks for all the good things that have happened to us," Shawn announced to the family. "And to me," he added quietly, locking eyes with you once more.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

[corvuschronicles]

finally gonna make a post better explaining my real fake psychic shawn spencer au so this might be a long one bc in the past it was mostly rambles as i came up with ideas and trying to make them fit together

i am in the process of actually writing a fic for this and it’s looking like it may be the first part of a 3 part series, below the cut are a lot more details to give context to my au

okay! couple of important things for the overarching universe:

the supernatural exists! though the population is not as prominent as it once was, so the supernatural world learned to adapt and stay hidden, basically for every 20 claims of something supernatural only one is real, and obviously some cities have higher populations compared to others

because of the dwindling population of the supernatural and the growing population of the mundane, it is expected that both would intermingle, so it is actually a lot more common than you’d expect for people to have supernatural bloodlines, though it is often insignificant enough that it doesn’t matter. sometimes that is not the case. sometimes people are born into still active bloodlines so they grow up in that world and sometimes people never know that they even had supernatural blood, let alone that the supernatural exists. sometimes, even though someone’s bloodline may be dormant (and they are or are not aware of the supernatural) unforeseen circumstances can sort of jumpstart said bloodline

with or without knowing it, people with supernatural abilities or bloodlines tend to gravitate to each other

there are few rules that the supernatural community follows, the most important being to not expose themselves to the mundane

within the supernatural community there are different categories; creatures/those with creature blood (vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters), those with abilities (psychics, druids, witches), sentries (those tasked with keeping the supernatural hidden, and hunters (mundanes who became aware and choose to fight it)

explaining the name, real fake psychic:

when he first started working for the SBPD shawn faked being a psychic to avoid arrest

after season 4, shawn has an encounter with the supernatural that essentially gives him real psychic abilities

he keeps up his fake psychic charade because he can’t really say ‘hey guys i was faking it before but guess what? it’s real now!’

now i will go a little into some of the changes/headcanon/general facts of some characters in my au, starting with the main man

shawn:

he’s mexican! this is not central to the story really but it’s my headcanon so i will work it in because i can

somewhere down the line there is maybe some kind of long forgotten supernatural family member, meaning shawn has supernatural blood

the combination of his childhood and eidetic memory and genius is all him but it definitely gets a small push from his possible bloodline, especially in how he visualizes

after The Incident™️ shawn gets real psychic abilities, at first it’s vague and he doesn’t know what’s happening, but then things get too weird and even he can’t ignore it

true psychics are rare, a lot of people only have some aspects (like divination, clairaudience, etc) but of course, shawn ends up with more than the usual

his abilities, especially at the beginning and when they develop more, are rather painful because he is receiving so much more input now, leading to headaches at least

shawn getting real powers is the catalyst to those around him awakening as well, and now that he and the others are aware of the supernatural, it seems to be more present than they realized

gus:

he’s an amplifier

his ability is kind of a paradox, on its own it doesn’t do much because it is mostly dormant outside giving him the supersniffer, but once shawn awakens it causes a ripple effect, they are now in the supernatural world and as a result gus in turn awakens as well

he can amplify his and other’s abilities; this helps shawn because gus can help him focus on certain visions or to make sense of some things he sees, this makes shawn claim that his is now literally magic head

it is a paradox because without shawn’s powers gus’ wouldn’t have come through and gotten stronger, but he also helps shawn’s get stronger, it’s a loop

gus gets the dormant bloodline from both his parents

shawn is not the only one gus helps

juliet:

she is an empath

she is naturally an empathetic person but once she awakens it gives her more of an understanding that she never had before

juliet gets her bloodline from her mother’s side

once they all figure it out, juliet can also help shawn in a different way, as she can now feel the emotions coming through his visions

gus is able to help juliet develop her abilities more, and she develops a type of danger sense, which comes in handy in their job

her bloodline is weaker so she’s not the strongest empath, and her prolonged exposure to a shield made it harder for her abilities to develop as well

carlton

he is a nullifier

lassie’s ability is that he is essentially immune to the supernatural to a point, things like curses, jinxes, telepathy, etc do not work at all or barely affect him, most physical attacks would still work because he is still human (like poisons or tactile telepathy)

however, this also affects positive things such as blessings or good luck charms

his ability is like an aura around him, meaning that those close around him may be affected as well, such as o’hara who, as his partner, is often exposed and it put a hamper on her own abilities

shawn is also affected, but in a good way; the constant bombarding of psychic readings stop when he touches lassiter, and even just being around him can ease the headaches

this is eventual shassie

unlike the others, lassie is an anomaly, he has no actual supernatural bloodline, he is the first in his (recent) line

henry

he is a non-believing, non-aware, mundane person

he notices shawn acting stranger than usual, he also avoids coming to the house more than usual

he has his own Incident™️ in which he witnesses something that shows shawn is now telling the truth when he says he’s psychic

madeleine

is a whitexican; not exactly relevant other than the fact if goes with my mexican shawn headcanon

it is her side that had the supernatural bloodline

just like her son, if she were to awaken she would probably develop some minor abilities, most likely clairaudience

SBPD

for the most part, unaware of the supernatural

anyone born into or active in the supernatural community stays away from the police as they tend to live outside mundane laws and prefer to police their own

few key players in charge of or above the police may be aware or are a part of the community

the fact that a psychic and friends with abilities work for the police becomes controversial

chief vick is unaware but someone close to her is not

if anyone wants to add anything or simply ask questions or talk about feel free to do so! i love talking about real psychic shawn <3

[tolietpaperdreams]

Hysteria Final Chapter! (Hartbreak)

It’s finally here! This is it! It’s been so fun to write this story, I can’t believe it’s finally done 🫶🏻 Thank you so much to everyone that has stuck with it since the beginning, this is actually my first completed multi-chapter fic and I feel super accomplished.

Thank you all for reading and enjoying it means the world!

Here’s your tooth-rottingly sweet finale <3

The day of the pay-per-view was here. Bret felt good about it. He’d trained to his best ability and the match was mapped to the umpteenth degree. There was nothing else to do except maintain his readiness.

The build-up had been fantastic, Shawn was as charismatic as ever. He was so over with the fans that every time Bret went to speak on the mic he was booed to the point of silence. Bret couldn't even be mad, it meant he was doing his job.

That morning at the hotel. Bret woke Shawn up with sweet kisses all over his face; he wanted to make sure his partner felt nothing but support.

“Mmph…” Shawn scrunched his eyes closed and tried to bury his face back into the pillow.

Bret nibbled on Shawn’s earlobe in response, earning another tired groan from the blonde.

“Lemme sleep,” Shawn half-heartedly pushed Bret away, to no avail.

“C’mon, we’ve gotta get to the arena early today,” Bret placed one more kiss on Shawn’s cheek and added a playful pat to his ass.

Shawn whined again, pulling the extra pillow over his face while Bret stood and stretched.

“Dramatic ass…” Bret huffed under his breath, earning a pillow thrown straight to his face.

“Am not,” Shawn sat up, his hair sticking up in every direction and the sleep still in his eyes.

“Do you want breakfast or not?” Bret chucked the pillow right back but Shawn got lucky and caught it.

The blonde shook his head, “I’ll figure something out there.”

“Alright, well get up, we’re leaving in fifteen,” Bret said as he threw a t-shirt on.

“Jesus- okay, you're so bossy,” Shawn grumpily stood, his back stiff.

At the arena, they stalled backstage with each other. Shawn would have to go do his pre-show ritual with Hunter and the guys and Bret would do his with his friends. They probably wouldn't see each other till the match, but it was for the best.

Most people backstage knew they were a ‘thing’ but it was better not to raise eyebrows before a pay-per-view. Shawn had gotten quiet on the ride over, and Bret could tell the nerves were starting to get to him.

Bret felt his own version of pre-show nerves, but it wasn't about his performance, it was about how he was going to make Shawn look out there. There was a bit of sadness in dropping the title, but he had gotten over that. He needed to put Shawn over, that's what mattered.

“You feeling okay?” Bret asked, hiking his gym bag higher up on his shoulder.

Shawn nodded while fidgeting with his hands, “I’m fine, just a little nervous.”

Bret leaned in and placed a soft kiss to Shawn’s lips, “You’re The Show Stopper, remember?” He titled Shawn's chin up with a finger.

They hadn't discussed Shawn’s confession over the phone a few days ago. Bret wanted to when he first saw Shawn after their few days off, but he’d been shut down. Shawn acted like everything was normal which threw Bret off entirely. How could he just confess that he was in love with Bret and then act like nothing happened?

He was beginning to wonder if he had misheard Shawn, but he’d worry about it later. After tonight, Shawn would be champion, and they had all the time in the world to figure life out as it came at them.

The look of affection in Shawn’s eyes made him melt. Bret was so wrong about Shawn initially- he was someone who felt his emotions fully and wore them on his sleeve. Shawn wasn't perfect by any means, but he was perfect for Bret.

Bret who was calm, cool, and collected- Bret who couldn't talk to people without stumbling over his words. He needed someone like Shawn to bring him out of his shell. It was a balance he’d never known before.

Shawn nodded, the confidence slowly coming back to him, “I know.”

“Good,” Bret gave him one last kiss while they were still hidden from peaking eyes, “I’ll see you out there.”

The rest of the day went by quickly. Both Bret and Shawn were so busy with media interviews and pre-show prep that by the time Bret was warming up, the show had already started.

Owen and Jim had their own tag match to worry about and Davey was technically ‘barred from ringside’ which of course meant he’d interrupt the match at the worst possible moment, hopefully causing the LOD their tag titles. Bret didn't know the outcome and he didn't want to, he still liked to suspend his disbelief and enjoy wrestling for what it was.

He was backstage alone, watching the monitor and waiting for his time to hit gorilla. He went over the match in his head while he waited, the belt laid across his lap. The bright gold contrast with the black leather always caught his eye.

Bret was proud of his time as champion, he was a fighting champion, someone who earned his spot. The feeling was bittersweet; he would miss being at the top but his time was up. That's how this company worked. Shawn deserved it more than anyone Bret could think of, besides maybe his little brother, but that was a fight he wouldn't dare get in the middle of.

The belt would look so good in Shawn’s hands, Bret couldn't wait to see the smile on his face when he held it up for the first time. He ran his fingers across the gold plate, admiring its shine. There would be other chances for him to get the belt back, it was a competition, and that part never stopped. It took Bret too much time to realize he could be happy either way.

After a while, Bret eventually got restless and left the locker room. He’d be early to gorilla but that way he’d get to see Owen and the guys after their match.

There were still plenty of monitors for Bret to watch the match. Owen, as always, was a spitfire in the ring. He was fast and athletic as hell; a wonder to watch. It wasn't long before Davey interfered and Owen got the pin.

Bret was ecstatic, for a brief moment in time the Hart Foundation would be covered in championships. However short that time was going to last didn't matter; the moment Owen, Jim, and Davey appeared they were all smiles and sweaty hugs.

“Proud of you, little brother,” Bret gave Owen a rough pat on the shoulder and ruffled his blonde hair like he was a kid again.

Owen was beaming, “You get out there and kick some ass, big brother.”

“Always do,” Bret winked and gave Jim and Davey their congratulations before they headed backstage.

It would be a few more minutes till Bret’s music hit. He needed to focus again. It was go-time; he ran over important parts of the match in his head while he stayed warm. Before long, the boss came over to wish him good luck with a tight nod and a look in his eye that said ‘you know what to do.’

Bret’s music hit the speakers and he took in the roar of the crowd. Taking one last deep breath, he slung the title over his shoulder, lowered his sunglasses, and walked out. Bret took it all in, the fans reaching out to touch him, the bright lights- he relished in the rewards of his hard work.

As he made his way down the aisle, he stopped to give a little girl his sunglasses, she was jumpy and giddy with excitement. That was always one of the best parts of his job. After that, Bret climbed into the ring and held the title up one last time.

The music dimmed along with the lights. Bret handed the belt to a staff member, mentally parting ways, and stood in the corner as he waited for Shawn’s music to play.

It could have been ten seconds or thirty minutes and Bret wouldn't have known the difference, but his heart rate began to spike the moment that iconic entrance began. He was expecting something extravagant like Shawn coming down from the rafters or sneaking up on him from behind, but the blonde made his appearance from the top of the ramp.

Shawn was all hips and confidence as he swaggered down the aisle, white tassels swinging every which way. God, he looked good. He always did, but it was Shawn’s confidence that dragged Bret in even further.

Bret kept his face as neutral as possible, he had to act like he was indifferent to Shawn, or like he was better than him. Which wouldn't have been hard to do a few months ago, but since everything had changed, all Bret wanted to do was admire his partner.

They finally made eye contact when Shawn stepped into the ring. It wasn’t easy keeping the smile off his face, but Bret managed, even as he secretly admired the way Shawn shimmied off his ring gear. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he could’ve sworn Shawn threw a wink or two in there.

As the music died down and the lights came up, the ref made sure they were both ready and soon the bell rang. Bret’s mind shifted; it was time to go to work.

They circled each other for a bit, building tension for the crowd before starting with the standard lockup.

“You look nervous Hitman,” Shawn teased.

“In your dreams, Michaels,” Bret replied as he used his momentum to sling Shawn into the ropes.

The blonde bounced back, aiming for a clothesline that Bret dodged last second. They played this cat-and-mouse game for a while; one of them running the ropes and the other evading. Things were going smoothly so far.

The playful banter also continued. Specifically, the first pinfall when Shawn practically had Bret’s knees over his shoulders. He swiftly kicked out on two.

“You should let me see you like that more often,” Shawn whispered in Bret’s ear, pulling him back to his feet.

“Maybe if you play nice,” Bret got out before being slammed into the turnbuckle.

The match was starting to heat up, the crowd was into it. Different chants could be heard throughout the arena, and it was time to start building to the bigger spots. It was Bret’s turn to counter.

Shawn ran at him full speed from the opposite side of the ring right into a spinebuster. Bret got the cover, but of course, Shawn kicked out.

“Usually, you let me hold you down,” Bret said as he caught his breath for a moment.

Chest heaving, Shawn turned on his side so his mouth was mostly covered from the crowd, “Usually, I get something out of it.”

Bret stood slow and grabbed Shawn by the hair, making it look like he was yanking the blonde up by the hair, “That’s not very nice.”

Shawn’s eyes were squeezed together as he feigned pain, “I thought you like when I talk back?”

“Only if I get something out of it,” Bret let go of Shawn’s hair and swung him into the ropes, throwing the blonde over his shoulder when he came back.

After a few elbow drops and more failed pin-falls, Shawn sent Bret over the top rope, crashing into the barricade. Fans reached to touch him and cheer him on, but Bret had to shake off the fog that overcame his mind. He hadn’t hit his head, but something had shifted.

He sat up slowly, favoring his right shoulder, and took in the sight of Shawn in the ring. He was on top of the world; the crowd cheering him on as he taunted, everything about him was a superstar. As he watched Shawn sprint from the other side of the ring and barrel towards him from over the top rope, Bret realized something.

He was in love.

Shawn’s weight hit him with a thud and the crowd lost it.

How ironic for Bret to realize he was in love while said individual was beating the shit out of him. It just made too much sense; their relationship hadn’t been conventional from the start. Why start now?

Loving Shawn was so simple yet entirely complicated. If the last few months had taught Bret anything, it was that life threw curveballs at you when you least expected it. Going from hating Shawn’s guts to not being able to breathe without him was something he had never expected, but it felt so right.

They were two opposite ends of the spectrum that balanced each other out, the final two puzzle pieces to fit it all together. It was never about the belt, it was about Bret letting go of control, and Shawn gave him that ability. To accept. Shawn had just realized it before him.

The match continued and Bret was more than happy to play along. Their in-ring styles complemented each other perfectly, and this could easily become one of Bret’s favorite matches of all time. Even if he was biased.

Bret rolled back into the ring after leaving Shawn on the ground from a brutal suplex. They were getting near the finale, but first Bret had to show off a little bit.

He waited for Shawn in the corner of the ring, making it look like he was exhausted to the crowd. In reality, the adrenaline could keep him going for much longer, but he’d save that energy for later.

Shawn finally stood and trudged his way into the ring, the crowd impatient for more action. Bret waited for his cue and threw Shawn to the ring floor. He looked to the crowd and called for the Sharpshooter.

After that, things got fuzzy again for Bret. The roaring of the crowd was coming in and out, and the only thing he could really feel was the weight of Shawn’s legs as he turned the blonde over and locked in the submission move.

The ref was practically bouncing back and forth between the two of them, seeing if Shawn would tap or if Bret would give. He could hear Shawn’s groans of agony through the fog, but he’d never remember how long he held the Sharpshooter for.

The next thing he knew, he was being rolled over into a pinfall and kicked out at the last second. Shawn had reversed his move. Bret faced the opposite direction and stood, preparing himself for what was coming next.

He could hear the stomps of Shawn’s boots on the ring and the crowd getting louder along with it. This was it. Bret turned and was met with Sweet Chin Music.

He landed on the ground with a thunderous noise and Shawn was quick to cover him.

“Thank you,” Shawn whispered.

One. Two. Three.

The bell rang and it was over. Shawn’s music hit and the crowd was on their feet.

Bret didn't say anything but gave Shawn’s hand a reassuring squeeze. He’d be able to say anything he wanted to soon enough.

They announced Shawn as the winner and new champion over the speakers and Bret knew that was his cue to head back up the ramp. He rolled out of the ring and slowly backed away. The look of Shawn celebrating was a beautiful picture; his boyhood dream came true. It had all been worth it.

It reminded Bret of the first time he held that belt in his hands, it was a feeling unlike any other, but it wasn't about him. This moment was about Shawn, and he’d give the man he loved that time. As he continued backing up the ramp, a few fans shouted their dismay, but it all blended together.

The last thing he saw before turning to head backstage was Shawn holding the belt up to the crowd and drinking in their approval.

Once backstage, he was greeted with handshakes and pats on the back from everyone; Owen, Davey, and Jim goaded about how technical the match had been. Owen was jumping with excitement, not yet coming down from his own match. Even Kevin, Scott, and Kid gave their approval.

Hunter approached him last, “Amazing match.”

Bret gestured toward the ramp entrance, “It was all him.”

“Maybe he brings out the best in you,” Hunter offered.

Bret didn't even have to think about it, “Maybe he does.”

He gave Hunter a pat on the shoulder and then headed further backstage for water and a towel. As he waited for Shawn, he caught his breath and savored a minute of alone time. His mind was starting to clear when he saw Shawn finally enter the back.

The blonde was immediately swarmed with people congratulating him and making him take pictures. Bret almost laughed to himself, he could tell Shawn wanted to get away but such was the life of a champion. The blonde was at least excited to see his friends, including Bret’s half.

A moment later, their eyes met, and Shawn’s smile grew wide. He ran towards Bret, the title falling from his shoulder halfway, and jumped into his arms causing them to spin around. Bret held on tight, squeezing Shawn in his arms.

“Congrats, baby,” Bret’s voice was muffled by Shawn’s shoulder.

“Bret, it was incredible,” Shawn practically squealed before Bret set him down.

Shawn pulled him into a kiss and if Bret was sure before, he was positive now. There was no doubt in his mind that Shawn was meant to be his and vice versa; in the most insane way, they fit together.

“Shawn,” Bret pulled back for a moment, trying to find his words.

All this time, the fighting, the drama- it was all to get here. It was all so Bret could finally dig down into the depths of his soul to figure out how to love someone and let someone love him in return. Bret squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, leaning his forehead against Shawn’s. The words were there, he just had to say them. Three words that he hoped Shawn already knew. It took everything in him, but he’d die trying before he gave up.

Bret pulled back to look Shawn in the eyes, those sparkling blue eyes that were so full of life, “I love you.”

Before Shawn could respond Bret had the sudden will to continue, “I love you. I love your laugh, I love your smile, I love your friends, the way your nose crinkles when you try to read something from far away but you refuse to get glasses. I love how you snore and the way you-”

Shawn shut him up with a kiss; one that said everything that needed to be said between them. They were by no means perfect, but Bret was looking forward to every step of the way with the man he loved.

Bret moved to grab Shawn’s belt from the ground, “Less than ten minutes as the champion and you're already losing this thing.”

“That’s what I have you for, right?” Shawn took the title and threw it over his shoulder, “To remember my stuff and carry my bags?”

Bret huffed a laugh at the blonde’s teasing and took Shawn’s hand in his own, “Take me home, champ.”

***

*EPILOGUE*

*A few months later*

Bret hated his birthday. All it did was remind him that he was one year older and that his body hurt more and more every day, but Shawn insisted on celebrating. The last thing he wanted was a big party, which had been Shawn’s initial plan, so they settled on inviting Bret’s family over for dinner.

In the last few months, Shawn had been staying with Bret in Calgary whenever they had time off work, but they hadn’t yet discussed the idea of moving in together. That was still a little ways down the road, and they were both content with where their relationship stood for the moment. It was nice to be excited about time off instead of just anticipating getting back on the road.

The dinner was nice, Bret hadn't wanted anything fancy so they settled on Italian and Shawn turned out to be quite the chef. Owen and his family were there along with a bunch of their other siblings and their families. Shawn was a natural with all of Bret’s nieces and nephews, which in turn earned him a side-eye and a smile from one of his sisters.

“Absolutely not,” Bret nearly choked.

They hadn’t even been together for six months let alone had the thought of children. That was something they could discuss in ten years, maybe five if they were feeling spry. Bret knew she was doing it to tease him but that was something his sister couldn't torture out of him right now.

Shawn had to practically beg Bret to let him get a cake, but eventually, he agreed. If anything it was for the kids to eat, at least that's what Bret told himself until Shawn cut him a giant piece after everyone embarrassed him with that stupid ‘Happy Birthday’ song.

“It’s your birthday, you don't have to be so strict about your diet,” Shawn gave him a peck on the cheek and set the plate in front of him.

Bret didn't mean to be so grumpy, but sometimes that was just his disposition and he was very fortunate to have so many people who loved him despite it.

“Thanks, babe,” He gave Shawn a smile.

The cake was amazing and Bret knew he might have overindulged when he ended up on the couch with a hand on his stomach because of how full he was. He looked at Shawn in the kitchen and waved him over.

“One sec!” Shawn set down whatever he was doing and gestured for Owen to follow him.

Bret watched his brother and boyfriend leave out the front door with a confused look on his face. Whatever they were up to was obviously not good, but Bret didn't have the energy to bother getting up.

One second turned into thirty minutes and now Bret was starting to get a little concerned. Everyone else seemed fine, though. So there wasn't much that he could do.

Eventually, Owen burst through the door with a grin on his face, “We’re back!”

“Where did you guys go?” Bret furrowed his brow.

“Nun ya,” Owen replied and jumped over the edge of the couch to take a seat like the big kid he was.

Shawn eventually appeared with a medium-sized gift box in his arms; it was wrapped in blue wrapping paper with a giant purple bow on top. Bret should have known what to expect when he told Shawn he didn't want any gifts.

“Everything else is in Owen’s car, but this is the most important one,” Shawn said giddily as he sat next to Bret.

“What do you mean everything else?” Bret pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You’ll see,” Shawn grinned and set the box on Bret’s lap, “Don’t shake it, it’s fragile.”

Bret looked around the room as his family waited for him to open up the box; the kids were even more eager to see what was inside.

Before he could even notice the holes on the top, the box moved. It took a moment for Bret to register what that meant.

“Shawn,” Bret said deadpan, giving the blonde a look of disbelief.

“Open it,” Shawn nudged him with an elbow.

“Shawn, if there's a live animal in he-”

Bret was interrupted by the tiniest squeak he had ever heard in his life. He sighed and took the lid off the box.

So much for his hard exterior, because the moment Bret laid eyes on the tiny black and white kitten in the box, he melted.

“I don't- How did-” Bret tried but quickly shut himself up and reached into the box to pick up the kitten.

There was a little makeshift purple collar on the kitten’s neck that was decorated with flowers and Bret couldn't help but recognize them.

“Isn’t she perfect?” Shawn leaned his head on Bret’s shoulder and gave the kitten a scratch, “She’s been staying at Owen’s since I picked her out. We had to run back to his place to go grab her.”

Bret was still at a loss for words. The kitten was already playing with his fingers like she owned the place. Which she absolutely already did.

“All the supplies are in the car,” Shawn added, “I think she likes you, already.”

The kitten let out another tiny meow and rubbed her face against Bret’s hand. His hand that dwarfed this tiny creature.

“We’ll work on your roar later,” Bret smiled and scratched her chin, “Does she have a name?”

The blonde looked up at Bret and then back to the kitten, “Not yet, but I think I have a good idea.”

Bret raised a brow, “Oh?”

Shawn snuggled into Bret’s side and let out a very content sigh, “I was thinking Orchid.”

[darknessembrxced-archive]

@attitude-erarp : w/ Gia

Another evening, another line of wrestlers in and out of the room after a long morning of training. To some, it might have seemed monotonous. To Frankie? It was as close to the job of a lifetime as she would get. As she settled into the role more, it became more comfortable, and her sense of confidence grew. There were guys she got along with better than others and there were ones that ahe couldn't stand. None of that was new or unexpected though. It was just sort of how it went in the business. No one got along with everyone. It was just impossible. Those that she didn't get on with? It was a few respectful words in passing and all business. Those she did? She found herself enjoying the small chats and relaxed nature that came with it.

Tonight was one of those nights were it had mainly been guys that she knew and got along with well. Overall, fairly pleasant. No one was seriously injured and most of what she had been needed for entailed maintenance. The sort that ease muscle pain and cramping. Those were her favorites, if she had to be honest. There was just am ease that came with it. The guys didn't complain and were often just a tad more thankful for what she could do.

Space cleaned up and not expecting anyone, any time soon, Frankie settled in with a book and kicked her feet up. The plan was to simply relax in the room, avoiding the crowds, avoiding some of the other guys, but maybe specifically avoiding Shawn. The talk that Hunter had with her was still circling her head. Nonstop. No matter what she did. It felt odd, feeling a bit bad for how she had treated Shawn despite the obnoxious, persistent, arrogant attitude that the man consistently displayed. A firm line had to be drawn in the sand and while she didn't want to believe that he was serious, Hunter seemed pretty set on the idea. Enough so that he felt it necessary to ambush her with the information. And smack her upside the head with it.

The book lay open in her lap, feet propped against one of the table, but Frankie wasn't able to focus on it. Not properly anyway as she read the same sentence over three times but retaining none of it. Giving Shawn a chance was like asking to be put in the pit with the tiger. You knew the outcome but were somehow convinced to go ahead and do it anyway. The resolve hadn't fully broken yet and she wasn't ready to cave. Not yet. Shawn himself had yet to show her anything that said he was actually serious. Maybe beside the last bit of conversation that they had when she had Bret rescue her.

All thoughts flew from her mind when the door opened up and inside stepped an unfamiliar woman. Quickly. As if she was running away from something or someone. Frankie's brow furrowed, book now entirely forgotten.

"Can I help you?" Was this some fan that escaped to the back? No, it couldn't have been given the badge that made itself know when the woman turned around. The question still stood, but at least Frankie knew that ahe wasn't dealing with some crazed lunatic. She could read some sense of unease and unsteadiness. Whether that was a good or a bad thing remained to be seen. "This room is really only supposed to be for the wrestlers." Something about her seemed familiar but Frankie wasn't able to place it right away.

[oceangirl24]

Flashbacks: Crossroads

Pfaltzgraff stoneware in denim. Jon had never had matching dishes or anything else much less had a set with a name nor did he care about such things. But this set was bought at the King of Prussia mall back in November. It was picked out with love and concern that it would be his taste and fit his style.

And it was.

He would have picked the set out himself if he bothered with things like that.

But he didn't pick them out, Audrey did.

Without her they were not ever supposed to be used again.

Why were they out now?

Why was Shawn doing this to him?

As if he read he his thoughts Shawn looked up at him at that moment. His expression was unreadable but there was a stubborn look in his eyes as he set a fork down with a slow deliberate motion.

Jon glared at him.

Shawn glared back.

Jon broke their staring contest and grumpily turned to the couch. He picked up the remote to turn on the television before returning to the kitchen so Shawn couldn't accuse him of not doing his share of the work.

The stoneware, it turns out, was the least of the reminders of Audrey Jon was subjected to.

Although her name was never mentioned, Jon recognized the very specific way Shawn was doing things. From the order of the dishes prepared to the way they were prepared; it was all Audrey.

Shawn wouldn't allow him to step out of her shoes either. If he tried the teen was there to bark at him to do things the "correct" way.

Audrey's way.

Jon felt his mood sinking further south and he struggled not to bite back at Shawn. They made it through plating dinner.

Shawn had executed Audrey's fried chicken dinner almost as well Audrey herself. He mentioned the job the teen had done without mentioning her and Shawn immediately retorted that he was taught by the best and made sure that Jon did not think for a moment he was referring to him.

The meal started off in uncomfortable silence. No words were exchanged; no eye contact was made.

Jon watched Shawn carefully use his napkin the "proper" way.

Before Audrey, neither had much use for dining manners at home although Jon insisted that they both use them in public. Once Audrey joined them, everything taught in Health & Manners when Shawn was in elementary school kicked in and without prompting he stopped chewing with his mouth open, burping at the table, and started using basic table manners at home.

Jon almost chuckled at the memory of Amy calling to tell him how impressed she was that he taught Shawn these things so quickly. She was incredibly grateful that he was no longer drinking straight out of milk cartons and bottles.

Shawn picked up his napkin to wipe his mouth and Jon noticed the sadness in his eyes as he kept glancing at where Audrey used to sit.

Guilt pricked him.

Audrey would hate this scene and his attitude in particular.

Jon set his fork down and awkwardly cleared his throat. "So, uh, how'd it go at the trailer park?"

Shawn lowered the chicken leg he was about to take a bite out of and looked up at him through the bangs that half covered his face. His expression was unreadable.

Finally he shrugged and said, "It was good to be home."

Jon felt like someone stabbed him with a needle in the thigh. Ignoring the comment, he pushed on. "Were you able to get your… family… on camera?"

"Oh yeah, pretty much everyone showed up," Shawn nodded with a pleased smile. "A cousin on house arrest was even allowed outside long enough to say, 'Happy Birthday'."

"Glad it went well." Jon picked up a spoonful of mashed potatoes and rotated the utensil over in a circle several times.

"I really missed the trailer park," he said pointedly. His gaze was fixed on Jon and there was steely look in his eyes. "I forgot how great the Hunters are. Family really is everything, you know."

Shawn paused, still watching Jon intently. His expression turned into a slight sneer. "But then I guess you wouldn't know anything about that."

Jon stared at his spoon and clenched his teeth. Shawn was looking for a fight he knew and was used to getting his way.

So he ignored him.

Shawn crossed his arms and leaned against the table. "Yeah, family is everything," he said again. "And I've a great one. Best alibis you could want, phenomenal at evadin' the cops."

Even with his head down, Jon could feel his eyes boring through him. To distracted himself for Shawn's painful barbs, he took a bite of chicken and realized Shawn forgot the paprika Audrey always used.

He surprised he could pinpoint why it didn't quite taste like hers.

Shawn tilted his head to the side. The look in his eyes said he was going in for the kill. "I can't wait to hand the Hunter name and legacy down to my kids one day."

Jon was in the middle of swallowing the potatoes when Shawn said this.

He almost choked.

Unable to resist fighting back, he snapped roughly, "Maybe you oughta leave the Hunter legacy in the trailer park where it belongs."

Not bothered by the remark, Shawn stared at him and smirked, "You're just mad the Turner line won't live on through you."

The words landed harder than Jon expected.

And they hurt.

"Men don't have the same time limit on havin' kids women do. I've got plenty of time."

Smugly, Shawn took aim and launched his final dart. "Who you gonna get to have a kid with you when you can't even commit to a one-year magazine subscription?"

Read the Rest:

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[omegasshyghuleh6661ghosts]

Dancing Like Flames

@judgementdaysunshine I hope the wait was well worth it! 😈

Title inspo: Pain Remains I: Dancing Like Flames by Lorna Shore

__________________________________

You'd walked into the arena with Randy, arms draped across the small of each other's back as you checked in and made your way to the locker room that your partner Adam had already claimed for the three of you. His thumb rubbed over your hip as you walked through the halls, hand resting comfortably against the soft cotton of your leggings.

"You excited for tonight, babydoll?"

You looked up at him, smiling as you realized he'd been sneakily staring at you for a few moments as you approached the door.

"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?"

He shrugged slightly, muscular arm reaching out and opening the door for you. A soft blush spread across your cheeks as it had done so many times before, Adam looking up at the two of you as Randy let you into the room first.

"You know how tonight's gonna go, and I wanted to make sure you were ready."

You stretched upwards a bit, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"I'll be fine, darlin'."

He smiled, playfully smacking your butt as he closed the door behind him, Adam's quiet laughter catching your attention as you turned toward him and walked over. His hands reached out to you, carefully pulling you toward him as you claimed your spot on his lap.

The three of you joked around and talked about your matches, both men carrying you out to the ring on their shoulders when it came time for your match. They psyched you up, keeping anyone from interfering or distracting the ref. You won the match, your boys wrapping you in a hug before helping you to the locker room.

Adam got you an ice pack, sitting beside you and holding your hand as Randy massaged your shoulders. The three of you relaxed, going over the boys' match. After a half hour or so, you got up and followed them to Gorilla. They were going against your mentors Shawn and Hunter, and while they hadn't told you how it was going to end, you knew it was going to be a well fought and bloody match.

You escorted them down to the ring, watching intently and cheering for your loves as the match dragged on. Adam ended up covered in Shawn's blood, a small pang in your heart as you watched the four men brawling it out in front of you. Randy couldn't help but smile a little bit as the bell rang after a little while, signaling that your lovers had won. He'd heard your cheers above the crowd, eyes meeting yours as you hopped up from the announcement table and met him at the apron. He and Adam hopped down, arms wrapping around you and each other without a care in the world.

The three of you walked back to your locker room, both men taking turns holding you while the other showered. You'd stuck around until after the show, one of the last groups to leave the arena and head back to your hotel. During the car ride Adam held your hand, a vaguely nervous feeling rushing through you as your thoughts began to tiptoe into unexplored territory. Images of both men worshipping your body flashed through your mind, you glancing to both men like they'd hear your thoughts as if you'd said them aloud.

Randy and Adam took your bags up to the room once you'd gotten checked in, joking around with you. You were the one to unlock the door, walking in and setting the room key down on a nightstand before sitting down on the edge of the king sized bed. Randy closed the door behind him, setting the bags down and getting onto the bed beside you.

"What's on your mind, baby?"

"Just thinking, that's all. Nothing bad."

He raised a brow slightly, Adam doing the same as Randy wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Care to enlighten us?"

Your eyes shifted downward, studying the designs that adorned your lover's skin as a subtle pink flush spread across your cheeks.

"I was just thinking about us... About how I feel safe with you, and how much I love you both..."

You'd trailed off for a moment as you felt the bed shift slightly, Adam having sat beside you. He reached out, hand reaching out to gently caress your cheek. Your gaze shifted once more, looking to the two men you loved more than anything in the world.

"I love you both so much, and I want you to be my first."

Both men were quiet for a few moments as they studied you, soft smiles forming on their lips. Adam was the first to speak, a slightly devious look in his eyes as his thumb rubbed over your skin. His gaze softened slightly as Randy shifted slightly and pressed a kiss to your neck.

"How long have you been thinking about this, sweetheart?"

"Since this morning."

Your bashful admission caused both men to chuckle, sharing an amused look. Randy let you go, getting off the bed and crouching in front of you.

"You've been thinking about us... What we'd finally do to you... All morning, and you didn't tell us? Naughty girl."

"We're gonna take good care of you, babydoll. I promise."

You shared a kiss with them, each filled with more love and warmth than you could have imagined, unable to ignore just how wet you were becoming. You shifted slightly as Randy slipped out of his shirt, Adam following suit a few moments later.

They slowly stripped you out of your clothes, littering kisses over nearly every inch of newly exposed skin. A quiet hum slipped past your lips as Adam began sucking marks into your neck, your eyes closing as Randy's hands rubbed over your thighs. One of Adam's slipped down, both men spreading your legs as Randy's kisses crept closer and closer to your entrance.

Adam's free hand moved upward, gently rubbing over your side as Randy finally closed the gap and got his first taste of you. He didn't fight the pleasured groan that erupted from his chest as he began devouring you, letting the sounds you'd begun making guide his motions. Adam's fingers gripped your thigh as you moaned at Randy's actions, both men deeply aware of how hard they had gotten from seeing you like this.

"Look at you, baby... Bein' such a good, good fuckin' girl for us."

Another moan bubbled up from your throat at Adam's murmured words, hips grinding against Randy as he eased two fingers into you while sucking on your clit. Your heart pounded in your chest, brain fuzzy as your lovers took their time pleasing you. They brought you to the edge, both doing everything they could to make you feel as good as possible.

"I know you're close, pretty girl. You can let go, baby... Cum for us."

Your head laid back against Adam, mouth open slightly as you finally came undone. Both men continued their movements, Adam's fingers rubbing your clit as they worked you through your first orgasm of the night. Your body tensed as the waves of pleasure continued to hit you, a string of curses leaving your mouth. You slowly came down from your high, relaxing between them as they removed their fingers from you and sucked them clean.

They showered you with praise and affection, carefully moving you so that you laid on the bed with Adam on your left and Randy on your right.

"Think you can handle another, princess?"

You nodded, too caught up in the situation for words. Adam leaned down and kissed you, breaking it and settling himself between your legs after Randy had tossed him a condom from his backpack. He ripped the packet open and slipped it on before teasing you with the tip of his cock, leaning down and kissing you deeply as he slowly eased into you. He'd wrapped his arms around you, giving you a few moments to adjust to his size before beginning to thrust into you.

He slowly brought you to another incredible orgasm, his focus solely on pleasing you. Your orgasm hit you hard, muscles tensing around him which brought him over the edge with you. He took his time working you through your highs, both he and Randy once again showering you with praise and affection. Adam moved to lay beside you after disposing of his condom, both men chuckling as you reached over and pulled Randy in for a kiss.

"Want to feel you too, Viper."

He chuckled at your words, moving to kneel between your legs as he grabbed a condom as well and put it on.

"Whatever you want, you get babydoll."

He eased into you, being just as gentle as Adam had been. He brought you to the edge a bit quicker than Adam had, both men talking you off. His fingers dug into your hips slightly as you came undone for him, groaning as he worked you through your high. He pulled you close as he came, your name slipping from his lips like a muttered prayer.

"You were such a good girl for us, baby."

"We love you, babydoll."

[seanpultz]

D-Generation X in The Haunted Mansion

The Heartbreak Kid and The Game in a spooky situation.

SHAWN MICHAELS: (whistles in amazement) "Would you look at that, man? That place is giving me major Joel Rathbone mansion vibes!"

TRIPLE H: "You're not kidding, Shawn. It's like we stepped into one of those spooky movies they show on the WWE Network during Halloween."

SHAWN MICHAELS: "You know, the ones where the wrestler thinks he's tough until he meets a real-life monster?"

TRIPLE H: "Yeah, those. But we're not here to wrestle, we're here to check out The Haunted Mansion!"

SHAWN MICHAELS: "Alright, let's do it. But remember, no cheap shots or hiding behind gravestones, okay?"

TRIPLE H: "Scared, Shawn?"

SHAWN MICHAELS: "Not a chance, Hunter. But I've got a feeling this isn't going to be your typical 'Doink the Clown' level of spooky."

TRIPLE H: "Bring it on, Shawn. I've faced the Undertaker, I can handle a couple of ghosts!"

They both chuckle as they walk up the pathway, the grandeur of the mansion looming over them, casting eerie shadows across the manicured lawn. The ornate details of the Gothic Revival Pointed-style villa, reminiscent of A.J. Davis's design, stand out against the backdrop of the Magic Kingdom.

SHAWN MICHAELS: (swallows hard) "Okay, so the birdbath's a no-go for a splash. What's the deal with the carriage?"

TRIPLE H: "Looks like we've got some invisible horseman action going on. Maybe we'll get our own carriage ride later."

SHAWN MICHAELS: "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. And what's with the family portrait?"

TRIPLE H: (nods at the busts) "I think we're about to find out. The plot's thickening."

The mysterious music stops abruptly as they approach the gate, and the words on Prudence Pock's tomb seem to shiver before vanishing. The door creaks open, and a gust of chilly air greets them, beckoning them into the servant's entrance of the mansion.

SHAWN MICHAELS: "Well, this is definitely not the VIP entrance."

TRIPLE H: (smirks) "But it's definitely got the VIP level of creepiness."

As they step inside, the door slams shut behind them with a resounding thud.

SHAWN MICHAELS: (looks around nervously) "So, what do you think, should we split up and look for the ghosts or stick together?"

TRIPLE H: "Let's stick together. Safety in numbers, right?"

SHAWN MICHAELS: "Good call. This place is giving me the heebie-jeebies."

TRIPLE H: (glances up at the portrait) "Who's this dashing fellow?"

SHAWN MICHAELS: "I don't know, but he's got that 'haunted mansion' vibe down pat."

THE GHOST HOST (offscreen): "When hinges creak in doorless chambers. When strange and frightening sounds echo through the halls. Whenever candlelights flicker when the air is deathly still… That is the time when ghosts are present, practicing their terror with ghoulish delight."

While this is being said, the picture above the fireplace starts transforming Dorian Gray-style from that of a handsome young man, to that of a rotting corpse. Once the picture's transformation is complete, one of the walls opens up next to the picture, revealing an octagonal room.

SHAWN MICHAELS: (startled) "Did you see that, Hunter? The portrait changed!"

TRIPLE H: "Yeah, I caught that. It's like he's aging before our eyes—and not in the good 'HBK' kind of way."

SHAWN MICHAELS: "That's not right. Who said that spooky stuff?"

We enter this octagonal room from the Foyer. Four paintings (A bearded gentleman holding a document, A pretty young lady holding a parasol, An old woman holding a rose and A man in a bowler hat) flanked by candle-wielding gargoyles, hang from the walls in this chamber.

THE GHOST HOST (offscreen): "Welcome, foolish mortals, to the Haunted Mansion. I am your host, your Ghost Host. Our tour begins here in this gallery. Here, where you see paintings of some of our guests as they appeared in their corruptible, mortal state. Kindly step all the way in please, and make room for everyone. There’s no turning back now."

The doors we enter slam shut, The room begins to stretch upwards, the paintings on the walls elongating with it to reveal a comically gruesome end for each subject:

The bearded gentleman holding a document is revealed to be wearing only his undergarments from the waist down and standing atop a lit keg of dynamite.

The pretty young lady holding a parasol is revealed to be balancing on a fraying tightrope above the gaping jaws of an alligator.

The old woman holding a rose is revealed to be sitting atop a tall gravestone, at the bottom of which is a stone bust of her husband George with a hatchet embedded in his head.

The man in a bowler hat is revealed to be sitting on the shoulders of another man who sits on the shoulders of a third man who is waist deep in quicksand.

SHAWN MICHAELS: (laughs nervously) "Well, that's one way to keep the guestbook interesting."

TRIPLE H: "I don't think 'corruptible, mortal state' means what he thinks it means."

SHAWN MICHAELS: "Looks like we're stuck with the worst seats in the house, buddy."

TRIPLE H: (smirks) "More like the hot seat. Let's not stick around to see if they're hiring for a tag-team match."

THE GHOST HOST (offscreen): "Your cadaverous pallor betrays an aura of foreboding, almost as though you sense a disquieting metamorphosis. Is this haunted room actually stretching? Or is it your imagination — hmm? And consider this dismaying observation, This chamber has no windows and no doors… which offers you this chilling challenge: to find a way out!"

The Ghost Host laughs as our focus is on the ceiling.

THE GHOST HOST (offscreen): Of course, there's always my way.

The lights go out and lightning flashes above. The ceiling vanishes and gives a view of the mansion's cupola, where the skeletal corpse of the Ghost Host sways from a noose tied to the rafters. After a few seconds, the room becomes pitch black and a dreadful scream is heard, followed by the sound of bones shattering. Just as suddenly as it had begun, the horror ended, and the lights flickered back on. They blinked in the sudden brightness, their eyes adjusting to find that the skeletal corpse was gone, and in its place, a wall had slid open, revealing a hidden passage.

THE GHOST HOST (offscreen): "Oh, I didn’t mean to frighten you prematurely. The real chills come later. Now, as they say, ‘look alive,’ and we’ll continue our little tour. And let’s all stay together, please."

SHAWN MICHAELS: (swallows hard) "Okay, that was… intense. Did you see that?"

TRIPLE H: (nods) "Yeah, I think we've got our exit strategy."

They cautiously step forward, into the now open passage. The air is colder, the walls lined with dusty cobwebs. The smell of ancient decay fills their nostrils as they proceed.

SHAWN MICHAELS: "You know, I've faced a lot in the ring, but this… this is something else."

TRIPLE H: "Just think of it as a new kind of steel cage match, Shawn. But with less steel, more dust."

SHAWN MICHAELS: "And hopefully less jump scares."

We continue onward down a long hallway, leading to a short queue that is used to board the Doom Buggies.

THE GHOST HOST (offscreen): "And now, a carriage approaches to carry you into the boundless realm of the supernatural. Once on board, remain safely seated with your hands, arms, feet, and legs inside. And watch your children, please."

The two Superstars board their Doom Buggy.

SHAWN MICHAELS: (swallows) "Alright, this is it. Time to hop in and face whatever this 'Doom Buggy' has in store for us."

TRIPLE H: "After all those TLC matches, I've learned to expect the unexpected."

They both sit down in their designated Doom Buggy, the ride vehicle that would take them through the heart of the Haunted Mansion. The buggy starts to move on its own accord, guiding them through the darkened halls of the mansion.

TRIPLE H: (firmly gripping the safety bar) "Remember, Shawn, no hitting the ghosts. They're just doing their job."

SHAWN MICHAELS: "No promises, but I'll try to keep my Sweet Chin Music to myself."

THE GHOST HOST (offscreen): "Do not pull down on the safety bar, please. I will lower it for you. And heed this warning: the spirits will materialize only if you remain quietly seated at all times."

The safety bar is lowered, locking the two Superstars in their Doom Buggy.

The Doom Buggy enters a rather steep stairwell and pass under a landing where a floating candelabra floats in the darkness. After they pass under, they enter a hallway. To the left are two windows with white sheer drapes; lightning crashes and thunders outside. To the right are four paintings: a woman in a black sheer dress reclining on a daybed, a sloop on choppy waters, a knight on a rearing horse, and a woman in a Greek temple. With each flash of lightning, the paintings become: an anthropomorphic tiger, a ghost ship in a tropical storm, a skeleton knight on a skeleton horse, and Medusa in Greek Ruins.

TRIPLE H: "Keep your eye on those paintings, Shawn. They're playing tricks on us."

SHAWN MICHAELS: "This is getting wild, man. I didn't know Disney had it in them."

TRIPLE H: "I've seen weirder things at Vince's house, but this is definitely up there."

THE GHOST HOST (offscreen): "Oh yes, and no flash pictures, please. We spirits are frightfully sensitive to bright lights."

Leaving the hallway, we enter into a rectangular library, which is filled from floor-to-ceiling by shelves lined with hundreds of books. Phantom hands pull books from the shelves. An empty chair rocks gently back and forth, and a ladder slides to and fro as an unseen force searches for a good read. Among the shelves, marble busts glare at the two Superstars as we move along in the gloom.

THE GHOST HOST (offscreen): “Our library is well stocked with priceless first editions, only ghost stories, of course, and marble busts of the greatest ghost writers the literary world has ever known."

SHAWN MICHAELS: "Whoa, check out those books flying around! It's like we're in a scene from 'Ghostbusters'!"

TRIPLE H: "And look at those busts, they're staring us down like we're about to jump off the top rope at them."

SHAWN MICHAELS: "I've got a feeling we're not going to find any WWE biographies here."

TRIPLE H: "Speaking of which, did you catch the title on that one? 'The Art of Haunting'? Sounds like a self-help book for heels."

Leaving the library, we enter the Music Room. In the room, our heroes find an invisible ghost playing a Rachmaninoff-style arrangement of Grim Grinning Ghosts on the piano. The ghost's shadow can be seen cast upon the floor, while a storm brews outside.

SHAWN MICHAELS: "Okay, now this is something I can get into—haunted tunes!"

TRIPLE H: "Just don't start singing 'Sexy Boy' to the ghost pianist, alright?"

The Doom Buggy glides smoothly.

THE GHOST HOST (offscreen): "They have all retired here, to the Haunted Mansion. Actually, we have 999 happy haunts here. But there’s room for 1,000. Any volunteers?"

SHAWN MICHAELS: "One thousand, huh? I think we're good on that count."

TRIPLE H: "Yeah, unless they're looking for a tag-team to spice things up around here."

Next, we enter the main stairwell of the Mansion. Here in this M.C. Escher-like void the stairs go right-side up, upside-down, sideways, slantways, longways, back ways, front ways, square ways, and any other ways that you can think of. It is on these steps we see the ectoplasmic footprints of the Mansion's ghostly residents.

SHAWN MICHAELS: (looks around in amazement) "How do they even clean this place? It's like a staircase from the Twilight Zone!"

TRIPLE H: (smirks) "I bet Vince McMahon wishes our contracts were written on these stairs—we'd never find the loopholes."

SHAWN MICHAELS: "Very funny, Hunter. But seriously, these stairs are giving me vertigo."

The Doom Buggy ascends the impossible staircase, the ethereal footprints guiding them deeper into the mansion.

THE GHOST HOST (offscreen): "Well, if you should decide to join us, final arrangements may be made at the end of the tour. A charming ‘ghostess’ will be on hand to take your application."

In the blackness, glowing, blinking eyes transform into the pattern on the wallpaper.

TRIPLE H: "Look at that, Shawn. The wallpaper's got more eyes on us than the crowd at WrestleMania."

SHAWN MICHAELS: (swallows hard) "Yeah, and they're not exactly giving us a warm welcome."

THE GHOST HOST (offscreen): "We find it delightfully unlivable here in this ghostly retreat. Every room has wall-to-wall creeps, and hot and cold running chills."

The Doom Buggies pass a second floor passageway that seems to go on forever, lined with doors. A lone candelabra floats in midair halfway down it. Flanking the hallway entrance are a subtly-moving Suit of Armour and an armchair designed to have a "face."

SHAWN MICHAELS: (points at the floating candelabra) "Hunter, check it out. It's like they're lighting our path to…uh, I don't know, the ghostly locker room?"

TRIPLE H: "I don't think we're heading for a pep talk. More like a spooky VIP section."

The Doom Buggies continue their journey, passing through a hallway where the wallpaper comes alive with more eerie eyes, watching the two Superstars. The atmosphere is thick with anticipation, each step deeper into the mansion revealing more of the otherworldly secrets it holds.

TRIPLE H: "Shawn, this place is giving me the creeps. But I've gotta admit, it's also kind of… cool?"

THE GHOST HOST (offscreen): “Shhh, listen!”

A keening sounding like a banshee is heard.

SHAWN MICHAELS: (swallows hard) "Hunter, did you hear that? What in the world was that?"

TRIPLE H: (nervously glances around) "Sounded like someone's about to drop a chair on us, but with more screaming."

SHAWN MICHAELS: "That's not funny, man. What's going on here?"

They ride past an alcove-like conservatory, the space choked with decaying and overgrown plants and vegetation. Outside the huge glass walls is a misty landscape, with only the gnarled limbs of leafless trees visible in the gloom. A raven perches on top of a stand with a withered funeral wreath, and in the center of the chamber is a coffin whose occupant is trying to get out - skeletal hands attempt to push the lid open saying "Let me out! Let me outta here!", which based on the nails sticking through the wood was meant to stay sealed.

SHAWN MICHAELS: "Seriously, what was that sound? It's like someone's in trouble!"

TRIPLE H: "It's probably just part of the show, Shawn. You know, like when we had to wrestle in the thunderstorm at SummerSlam '98."

SHAWN MICHAELS: (skeptical) "Yeah, but I've never heard anything like that in the ring, man. It's giving me chills."

THE GHOST HOST (offscreen): “All our ghosts have been dying to meet you. This one can hardly contain himself. Unfortunately, they all seem to have trouble getting through."

Our Doom Buggy is then carried backward down an ominous corridor, a series of doors on either side of the car. Growls, screams, maniacal laughter and pleading voices emanate from behind them, as if something is trying to get out. Doors bend, as if they are breathing, knockers clack and rattle, and the walls are adorned with some "family portraits" of corpses.

TRIPLE H: "What's with these doors, Shawn? It's like we're in a haunted Hotel California."

SHAWN MICHAELS: "Just don't expect to check out anytime you like, Hunter. I've got a feeling this place holds onto its guests."

At the end of the hall lies a grandfather clock, with its arms spinning wildly backwards and the clock striking 13. A shadow of a clawed hand passes over the face of the clock.

TRIPLE H: "Did you catch that, Shawn?"

SHAWN MICHAELS: (swallows) "Yeah, I did. That wasn't exactly a 'hands off' signal."

We next enter the shadowy Séance Circle. The buggies travel in a circle facing a large table and high-backed chair in the center of the room (a raven perches on the back of the chair). Above this table floats a crystal ball containing the spirit of Madame Leota, chanting incantations that summon the spirits to appear.

MADAM LEOTA Leota: "Serpents and spiders, tail of a rat, call in the spirits, wherever they’re at! Rap on a table — it’s time to respond. Send us a message from somewhere beyond…

SHAWN MICHAELS: (whispers to Triple H) "I think we've found the ghostly GM's office."

TRIPLE H: "More like the 'Ghost in the Machine' if you ask me. This is getting pretty wild."

The Doom Buggy stops for a brief moment, allowing them to take in the eerie sight of the floating crystal ball and the ghostly visage of Madame Leota.

MADAM LEOTA: "Goblins and ghoulies from last Halloween: Awaken the spirits with your tambourine! Creepies and crawlies, toads in a pond: let there be music from regions beyond! Wizards and witches, wherever you dwell, give us a hint, by ringing a bell!"

THE GHOST HOST (offscreen): "The happy haunts have received your sympathetic vibrations and are beginning to materialize. They’re assembling for a swinging wake, and they’ll be expecting me… I’ll see you all a little later."

Next, we travel along a balcony overlooking the hall. A major party is underway as a multitude of transparent spirits engage in all sorts of revelry. A long dining table covered with decayed floral arrangements and dusty silverware plays host to a birthday feast, and whenever the orange-haired birthday ghost blows out the candles on a birthday cake at the head of the table, the other ghosts seated there vanish, only to reappear when the candles light again; nearby, an old woman disappears and reappears in a rocking chair. Several haunts drift into the hall from a hearse parked in a doorway, while cloaked wraith-like phantoms fly in through the broken windows from a stormy night outside. While a number of ghosts - including the notorious Pickwick - gadabout on the chandeliers above the room, a pair of duelists emerge from their respective paintings on the far wall and take shots at each other, forever reenacting their age-old feud. The open floor whirls with waltzing couples as a ghastly organist plays Grim Grinning Ghosts on a pipe organ, where tiny spirits emerge from the pipes.

SHAWN MICHAELS: (whispers) "Hunter, did you see those dudes fighting with the candles?"

TRIPLE H: "I can't miss that, Shawn. It's like they're having a never-ending battle royale."

SHAWN MICHAELS: "And the waltzing ghosts? This is more dramatic than the Royal Rumble."

TRIPLE H: (chuckles nervously) "At least we don't have to worry about getting eliminated—yet."

The Doom Buggies continue to glide through the spectral soiree, the energy of the supernatural partygoers seemingly infecting the air around them.

SHAWN MICHAELS: "You know, this isn't so bad. It's like a backstage party after a big win, minus the free food."

TRIPLE H: "Yeah, and hopefully minus the hangover tomorrow. But we've got to keep our guard up."

Leaving the Grand Hall, we ride through a dark, dusty and cluttered attic, where the sound of a beating heart and a sinister piano rendition of "The Wedding March" can be heard. Among the brick-a-brac are several pieces of wedding paraphernalia and decor, and five different marriage paintings, depicting the same bride but with a different groom in each. As guests watch, the heads of each of the grooms disappear, only to reappear moments later. After passing the source of the music, a broken-down piano with an invisible pianist (only a shadow of a man cast on the wall and keys), we come face-to-face with the ghost of the bride, Constance Hatchaway.

CONSTANCE HATCHAWAY: “In sickness and in… wealth. You may now kiss the bride. We’ll live happily ever after. Till death do us part. Here comes the bride. As long as we both shall live. For better or for… worse. I do. I did.”

TRIPLE H: (whispers to Shawn) "Look, Shawn, it's the ultimate wedding crasher."

SHAWN MICHAELS: "Hunter, that's not funny. This is starting to feel like a real horror show, not a wrestling match."

The ghostly bride, Constance Hatchaway, glares at them, her eyes following the two men as they pass, her sinister laugh echoing through the attic.

TRIPLE H: "Let's get out of here before she decides we're next on the guest list."

SHAWN MICHAELS: (swallows) "Agreed. This place gives me the willies."

The Doom Buggy descends into the next part of the mansion.

Following leaving the Attic window, the Doombuggies move down the balcony outside the house and down a flight of stairs backwards. A raven caws at guests from a tree branch. The shapes of rising spirits can be seen everywhere.

TRIPLE H: (swallows) "Okay, Shawn, we're not in the Performance Center anymore. This is next level."

SHAWN MICHAELS: "Tell me about it, man. Those ghosts are giving me more chills than the 'Taker at WrestleMania."

Upon reaching the ground, the graveyard Caretaker can be seen with his dog, the two of them utterly petrified by the sight before them.

SHAWN MICHAELS: (whispers) "Hunter, check out the caretaker. He's more shook than when we faced The Brothers of Destruction."

TRIPLE H: (swallows hard) "Yeah, but his dog seems to be taking it in stride."

Music is all around, while playful spooks pop-up from behind their tombstones. To the left, a group of five phantoms play a flute, a horn, a bagpipe, a harp, and pound on a tombstone to create an unearthly vibe. A King and Queen balance on a see-saw while a Duchess swings from a tree branch while she drinks a cup of tea. In the very back a skeletal wolf is seen howling at the moon. On the other side of the path, five Singing Busts come into view, bearing very vividly lit, expressive faces as they sing:

♪ When the crypt doors creak ♪

♪ And the tombstones quake ♪

♪ Spooks come out for a singing wake ♪

♪ Happy haunts materialize ♪

♪ And begin to vocalize ♪

♪ Grim grinning ghosts come out to socialize ♪

♪ Now don't close your eyes ♪

♪ And don't try to hide ♪

♪ Or a silly spook may sit by your side ♪

♪ Shrouded in a daft disguise ♪

♪ They pretend to terrorize ♪

♪ Grim grinning ghosts come out to socialize ♪

♪ As the moon climbs high o'er dead oak tree ♪

♪ Spooks arrive for the midnight spree ♪

♪ Creepy creeps with eerie eyes ♪

♪ Start to shriek and harmonize ♪

♪ Grim grinning ghosts come out socialize ♪

♪ When you hear the knell of a requiem bell ♪

♪ Weird glows gleam where spirits dwell ♪

♪ Restles bones etherealize ♪

♪ Rise as spooks of every size ♪

Other ghosts materialize, gathering around a hearse and drinking tea. A Mummy sits in his sarcophagus, trying to make contact with an elderly spirit who is just too deaf to understand him. Two "Phantoms of the Opera" blast their ghostly voices into the night. A Beheaded Knight, his Executioner, and his Prisoner all sing as a trio, while the poor ghost behind them tombs himself up. Our hero's Doom buggy enters the Mausoleum at the end of the Graveyard sequence where they are immediately "greeted" by the Raven who caws at guests while perching on the door to the Mausoleum.

TRIPLE H: "Shawn, this is… intense."

SHAWN MICHAELS: "You can say that again. It's like we've walked into a live action Night of the Living Dead, with a side of 'Bohemian Rhapsody'."

TRIPLE H: (forcibly laughs) "At least we're not the ones getting buried alive."

SHAWN MICHAELS: "Not yet, anyway."

As they enter the Mausoleum, the temperature seems to drop, and the air grows heavier with the weight of unseen presences. The Raven caws again, seemingly enjoying the intrusion.

THE GHOST HOST (offscreen): "Ah, there you are! And just in time… there’s a little matter I forgot to mention. Beware of Hitchhiking Ghosts!"

They pass by three hitchhiking spirits; a Traveler, a Skeleton and a Prisoner.

SHAWN MICHAELS: (swallows hard) "Hitchhiking ghosts, huh? That's not something you see every day in the wrestling world."

TRIPLE H: (nervous laugh) "No kidding. I guess we're not in kayfabe territory anymore, Shawn."

Triple H and Shawn Michael's Doom Buggy passes by a wall of mirrors showing that the Hitchhikers are sitting in the vehicles along with the rider.

SHAWN MICHAELS: (swallows hard) "Did you just see that, Hunter? Those ghosts are hitching a ride with us!"

TRIPLE H: (nervously laughs) "Looks like we've got some extra passengers. But hey, maybe they're just fans looking for a backstage pass to the afterlife."

SHAWN MICHAELS: "I don't know, man. This isn't the kind of tag team match we're used to."

TRIPLE H: "Don't worry, Shawn. We're the Heartbreak Kid and The Game. I'm sure we can handle a little post-match haunting."

THE GHOST HOST (offscreen): "They have selected you to fill our quota, and they’ll haunt you until you return!"

A very small being only around the size of a doll. She wears a white satin dress with a long, non-transparent hood, often mistaken for a veil, of the same material. She has visible long blue hair and glowing pale blue skin. stands atop the ledge of the crypt holding a bouquet of dead flowers. She is Little Leota, the Ghostess.

LITTLE LEOTA: “Hurry back. Hurry back. Be sure to bring your death certificate, if you decide to join us. Make final arrangements now! We've been dying… to have you…".

SHAWN MICHAELS: (swallows hard) "Well, that's one way to sell merch, I guess."

TRIPLE H: "This isn't merch, Shawn. This is real. We've got actual ghosts trying to hitch a ride with us."

SHAWN MICHAELS: "You know what that means, don't you?"

TRIPLE H: "Yeah, we can't exactly drop them at the next exit ramp."

SHAWN MICHAELS: "We're going to have to outsmart them, or we might be signing up for a lifetime subscription to 'The Twilight Zone'."

THE GHOST HOST (offscreen): "Now I will raise the safety bar, and a ghost will follow you home!"

The safety bar is risen and the Superstars disembarks the Doom Buggy. As we head for the exit, we hear the ghosts sing this following passage:

♪ If you would like to join our jamboree ♪

♪ There's a simple rule that's compulsory ♪

♪ Mortals pay a token fee ♪

♪ Rest in peace, the haunting's free ♪

♪ So hurry back, we would like your company ♪

SHAWN MICHAELS: (quickly) "Hunter, we've got to get out of here before we're stuck with these ghosts as permanent tag partners!"

TRIPLE H: "No arguments here, Shawn. I didn't sign up for a match that never ends."

They make a break for the exit, their hearts racing as the ghostly voices of the Hitchhikers and the rest of the Haunted Mansion's inhabitants seem to follow them.

LITTLE LEOTA: "Hurry back, hurry back, hurry back…!"

TRIPLE H: "Not a chance, Little Leota! We're retiring from the afterlife circuit!"

SHAWN MICHAELS: "And we're sticking together, like a well-oiled tag team!"

The two wrestling legends push through the swinging doors, the ghostly laughter fading behind them as they re-enter the bright lights and bustling energy of the Magic Kingdom.

TRIPLE H: (breathes a sigh of relief) "Well, that was… an experience."

SHAWN MICHAELS: "You can say that again. I've wrestled in some weird places, but that takes the cake—or should I say, the funeral wreath?"

TRIPLE H: "Let's just agree to stick to the ring from now on, okay?"

SHAWN MICHAELS: "You got it, brother. No more 'haunted' side quests for HBK and The Game."

They exchange a firm handshake, leaving the Haunted Mansion behind, but not without a few lingering shivers down their spines. As they walk away, the distant echo of the Ghost Host's laughter seems to remind them that the supernatural world of WWE is never truly far away.