#like maybe wwf they thought?

[secondbeatsongs]

Hello! I'm Julie from Cariona and I just want to ask if you're interested in doing ads/promotions here on Tumblr? If yes, how much do you charge per reblog?

For proof of legitimate promotions, you can check @catchymemes, @sulfatto, @isnt, and many others.

Website for reference: http://cariona.com Over 200 five star Facebook reviews: https://www.facebook.com/carionaproducts/reviews

Please feel free to respond here or reach out to us on marketing@cariona.com for more details! Thank you once again and have a great week!

absolutely fascinating that you decided to send this as an ask, when you also DM'd me. unfortunately, you may realize that this was a mistake - you see, asks can be responded to publicly.

so, allow me to respond:

hi, Julie! I'd never heard about Cariona before, so I decided to go poking around, and I learned something!

well, I learned a few things, actually. from your site, Cariona seems to be a small business that sells reusable menstrual products. and while I will never advertise a product that I haven't used, there's nothing wrong with wanting people to promote your company.

I have, however, found a few problems.

the first thing I found was this post by @crafiet from May 12th of last year, saying that shortly after making a purchase on your website, her debit card info was leaked, and used to make facebook ad purchases.

it seems that at least back then, your payment system was insecure. I'm really hoping you've fixed that, because. yikes.

and when I messaged crafiet to ask if it was okay if I linked to her post, she also mentioned that even though your website says you ship from Georgia, her package came shipped from China, and took a long time to arrive.

that's pretty sketchy.

the next thing I found was some folks talking about receiving cards with their orders that have a QR code on them with the words "Scan For God's Message To You", and that on the other side, have this bible verse:

O God, thou art my God; early will I seek thee: my soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is. Psalm 63:1

fun fact! that's from the King James Version (which I have a lot of thoughts about, but I'm not going to get into that right now).

additional fun fact! that particular psalm is from that time David fled to the wilderness because Jonathan's dad was trying to kill him.

and that's why I have to talk about the verses that follow it:

(ID in alt text; link to the NIV version if you want it)

so...are we like 100% sure it's god that David is thinking about here? because...I mean...that's pretty horny, right? and all of this while on the run from his boyfriend's dad?

I'm not saying anything, but like...¯\_(ツ)_/¯

it's a weird verse to choose for this, that's all.

anyway, back to you, Cariona: after seeing people talking about the bible verse cards, I decided to poke around your website more, and allll the way at the bottom of it, finally found your "About Us" page, which ends with this:

...look. there's nothing inherently wrong with being christian. but to say "we do not wish to impose any beliefs on our customers", and to then put bible verse cards in people's orders? that's sneaky, and I don't like it.

I also think it's a bit sneaky that you've flagged your tumblr account as pro-trans on shinigami eyes. at least, I assume you flagged it yourselves, because I didn't find a single post on your blog that mentions trans issues.

(though you have, entertainingly, reblogged some stranger things fanart, and a castiel cat cosplay)

and while your website uses very gender-neutral language, your "About Us" page doesn't say anything about being inclusive of trans people, just that you don't "discriminate against anyone who has a different belief than ours."

unfortunately, that's not good enough for me. I have this sneaking suspicion that "trans people are the gender they say they are" counts as a "different belief".

lastly, since you say on your website that people can message you asking about your faith, I had a friend do that!

baptists. you're baptists, which is a pretty conservative denomination.

and according to you, part of that 10% you donate goes to your local churches, and some missionaries. who are also probably baptists.

so.

in the end, I just...don't trust you? I don't trust that the 10% you're donating is going to organizations that aren't homophobic or transphobic. I don't believe that you're not trying to impose your beliefs on others, because that's what you're obviously doing. I mean, your "About Me" says that one of the reasons you built this company is to spread the gospel.

and I especially don't like it that you reached out to me (an openly queer person) for promotion without mentioning that you're an evangelical company.

so to answer your question, Julie: no. I am not interested in doing ads or promotions for you on tumblr. and honestly, you probably picked the wrong website for this kind of thing.

[tameodesza]

Stripped

˖⁺‧₊˚✦ Summary: Shawn does a promo nearly naked and it leaves Kevin hot and bothered.

˖⁺‧₊˚✦ a/n: Smut for smut’s sake. Thought of this after making this gif set. AO3 link

Razor Ramon had been crowned the WWF Intercontinental Champion during Shawn’s suspension, but Shawn was willing to do anything to prove that he was the real champion.

It had been his idea to do his promo scantily clad, of course, thinking it was a clever way to emphasize that he’d never been stripped of his title. That and he knew Kevin would be watching.

Kevin was full of indecent thoughts as soon as he saw the blond come out in nothing but a white towel. And hiding his lust had been no easy feat with Shawn gallivanting around the locker room in his loosely tied towel, exposing those tanned thick thighs with no effort.

He’d almost lost his will when Shawn sat spread eagle on the edge of the couch during his interview, his towel not leaving much to be seen. Kevin tried not to fall into the trap, knowing that Shawn was just putting on a show probably hoping to get a rise out of the older man. But it was working, that much being evident by the very hard problem growing between his legs.

As the promo ended, Kevin couldn’t throw the camera crew out of their locker room quick enough.

Shawn was still admiring his beauty in the vanity mirror when he was suddenly turned around and hoisted up into Kevin’s arms. His yelp was cut off by Kevin’s lips abruptly smashing against his own. Shawn returned the kiss with a triumphant smirk, wrapping his arms around Kevin’s neck and his legs around his waist.

Kevin’s tongue ravenously battled Shawn’s as he set the blond down onto the edge of the vanity table, clumsily knocking over Shawn’s expensive collection of shades and earrings. But Shawn didn’t care about the items as he brought Kevin closer with his legs, dry humping the man as they made a mess of themselves – heavy breathing, lip biting, hair pulling, and light moans filling the air.

Shawn’s arrogance slipped away as Kevin dominated him. It was almost funny how in front of the cameras, everyone seemed to think Shawn called the shots. But they both knew who truly ran the relationship behind closed doors.

Kevin pulled away from the kiss with a tug of Shawn’s bottom lip, panting, “You’re such a tease.”

Shawn’s eyes were half-lidded as he innocently answered, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“The only thing you’re stripped of is your clothing, huh?”

Shawn leaned back on his hands, grinning, “Was only stating the obvious.”

“Oh, were you now? But you still have this on.”

He eyed Shawn’s towel which looked like it was hanging on for dear life in Shawn’s disheveled state. Kevin placed his hands on Shawn’s knees, slowly spreading his legs wider to reveal more of his thighs. Shawn’s flexibility allowed him to widen his legs almost to a split, only being stopped by the table pressing against his legs. With the towel now pooled at Shawn’s hips, Kevin was pleased to see the tent poking under it.  

Shawn watched with eager eyes, biting his lip before saying, “I do, don’t I? Maybe we should fix that.”

Kevin rubbed his hands up Shawn’s thighs, stopping at the edge of the towel. He lifted it to reveal Shawn’s hardening cock, saying in awe “You really went commando.”

He knew he shouldn’t have been surprised, but he thought the blond would’ve at least had the decency not to risk flashing his dick on live TV.

“Turns you on, doesn’t it?”

It did, and Shawn knew it.

Instead of answering, Kevin kneeled before the blond, his head disappearing under the towel as he brought his lips to the head of Shawn’s cock. Shawn fully hardened at the sensation, his breath hitching as Kevin’s tongue flicked across the tip. Kevin placed a hand at the base of Shawn’s cock, stroking it halfway up as his mouth traveled halfway down.

“Mm, Kev. Oh, yeah,” Shawn moaned. It wasn’t everyday that Kevin graced him with a blowjob, and it was a shame because that tongue did wonders.

Kevin kept a steady pace for some time, working Shawn up until the blond was desperately grinding his hips up into his mouth. He gave a long hard suck as he pulled off of Shawn’s cock, using the mixture of his saliva and Shawn’s precum as lube as he stroked the entirety of the blond’s cock.

He sat back, coming face-to-face with Shawn’s puckered hole. “Look at you. All nice and clean for me. Confident I’d eat your ass today?”

“I was hoping,” Shawn struggled to say clearly through strained breaths.

But all clarity was gone as he felt Kevin’s wet tongue lap at his entrance before entering the tight ring. He pushed his tongue in and out, fucking Shawn skillfully as he continued to jack him off.

“Mmmh, yeah. Like that, big daddy. Please. Keep doing that, please,” he begged. And boy did Kevin like when he begged.

Kevin’s tongue continued to explore Shawn’s hole as he quickened the pace of his hand on Shawn’s cock. Meanwhile, he brought up his other hand to pinch at one of Shawn’s perked nipples. Shawn’s legs trembled in overstimulation, a low whine being heard in the mess of slick sounds in the room.

Shawn lifted up the towel and ripped it off, revealing Kevin’s dark head of hair between his legs. But when he went to take off the belt, Kevin stopped him. “Leave it.”

And Shawn swore his dick twitched just at the thought of getting fucked wearing the Intercontinental belt.

After Shawn’s obedient nod, Kevin brought his tongue back to Shawn’s clenching ass, causing Shawn to groan in satisfaction. He brought a hand to the back of Kevin’s head, shoving his tongue deeper inside. He thought it couldn’t get any better than that until Kevin suddenly inserted a finger along with his tongue.

Shawn gasped as he threw his head back, accidentally banging it against the vanity mirror. “Ah! Daddy-” Shawn’s words were failing him and he knew he wouldn’t last long like this.

But he wanted more. He needed more.

He tried to put more force behind Kevin’s head to keep him inside, but it was the taller man who reminded him who was in control when he removed his hand from Shawn’s cock to grab onto Shawn’s wrist, holding it down to the table.

Kevin removed his mouth from Shawn’s ass, continuing to finger the blond as he wrapped his mouth around Shawn’s dick, deep throating him to the best of his ability.

“Oh, fuck!”

Kevin nearly choked when Shawn brought his free hand to the back of his head, lowering him further onto his cock. Kevin removed his hand from Shawn’s ass, gripping the blond’s wrist and holding it down. Shawn whined, now defenseless as Kevin pinned both of his hands down to the table.

Kevin slid his mouth off of Shawn before standing, placing his forehead against Shawn’s as he whispered, “That’s not very nice, Shawn. You’re being greedy.”

Shawn seemed to be barely there, his eyes glazed over in a daze. “I’m sorry, big daddy. You just feel so good. Please, let me have you. I need you. Please, daddy.”

Kevin smiled gently at Shawn being right where he wanted him – a mess of himself, begging, forehead shining from sweat, eyes glistening half-lidded. He was puddy in his hands. To top it all off, there sat the WWF belt reflecting off of Shawn like diamonds. He was gorgeous, and Kevin had half the heart to not deny the blond any longer.

He gave Shawn a light peck before letting go of Shawn’s wrists. He brought Shawn’s legs up, bending them at the knee and bringing them towards Shawn’s chest until the blond’s feet rested on the table.

Kevin let out an unsteady breath at the sight. “Shit, you look so sexy. Spread your legs wider. Stay just like that for me,” he instructed, leaving Shawn fully exposed in nothing but his championship belt.

He went to his bag to retrieve the lube he always kept on hand. But with as desperate as Shawn seemed, he guessed there wouldn’t be much prep needed.

Kevin unzipped the front of his pants, not even bothering to take them off as adjusted himself to pull his dick from his briefs through the opening of his jeans. He slathered himself up, darkening his jeans as a bit of the lube got onto them in his haste.

He stroked himself with one hand as he prepped the blond with the other, his lubed fingers stretching Shawn as much as needed.

“Mmph, daddy please. Please hurry before I come,” Shawn warned, his cock oozing precum. He was right on the edge but was trying his best to hold back.

“Patience,” Kevin whispered, continuing to properly stretch the younger man.

After finding Shawn’s sweet spot, the younger man crying out as he threw his arms around Kevin’s shoulders, Kevin removed his finger and replaced them with his cock. He caught Shawn’s lips as the blond gasped at the intrusion, drinking up the moans Shawn let out in his mouth.

There was no holding back for either of them after that. Kevin jutted wildly into Shawn, the vanity mirror knocking against the wall in tune with every thrust. Shawn moaned loudly, uncaring of who could hear through the thin walls of the locker room. If anything, he hoped someone could hear how well his bodyguard was fucking him, wishing they could be as lucky as Shawn.

Shawn watched as Kevin’s dick disappeared and reappeared from his hole, how his stomach muscles contracted with every thrust. And as Shawn saw Kevin’s sweat dripped down onto the gaudy belt around his waist, he thought this was singlehandedly the hottest thing they’d done together – and that’s saying a lot.

Shawn brought them closer with his legs, clinging onto Kevin like a koala to a tree, feeling his dick press between Kevin’s stomach and the WWF belt. Shawn’s eyes rolled back as Kevin’s strokes grew shorter, the man rapidly rolling his hips into the blond.

Shawn wrapped his legs tighter around Kevin, grinding up to meet his thrusts, which sent him over the edge. “Fuck, Kevin! Fuck me! I’m about to-”

He gave a loud yell as he came in spurts, his come landing on the belt and smearing between him and Kevin as the older man continued to pound into him. Kevin soon followed behind, going still as he came hard into the blond.

Kevin dipped his head into Shawn’s neck, both men struggling to catch their breaths. As they both came down, he rubbed a gentle hand along Shawn’s back, signaling that they were done. It was a nonverbal cue he’d learned to do long ago back when Shawn felt like he needed to prove himself to whoever it was that he was screwing. They’d come a long way to get Shawn to understand that sex was a two-way street.

Kevin lifted his head, pressing it onto Shawn’s as he caressed the blond’s cheek. Shawn’s eyes fluttered open, still a bit hazy as Kevin asked, “You good?”

Shawn gave a lazy smile as he nodded. His smile widened when he looked down to see the streak of white contrasting against the gold on his belt. “We made a mess.”

“You made a mess,” Kevin chuckled. “But as always, I’ll be there to clean it up.” He swiped a finger across the belt, gathering a layer of come before licking it off with a smirk. “Now it’s clean.”

Shawn stood corrected – Kevin licking his come off the WWF belt was single handedly one the hottest things he’d seen.

Kevin grabbed Shawn’s towel to clean up the remaining come from the belt before moving to clean Shawn’s entrance. He helped Shawn sit into a more comfortable position as the blond said, “The office is going to kill us if they ever found out about this.”

Kevin wiped himself, coyly answering, “Won’t stop us from doing it again, will it?”

“Nope,” Shawn snickered. “Hey, I was thinking. After this whole run as Intercontinental Champion, we should try for the tag belts.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Wouldn’t it be hot if we both fucked in our belts?”

Kevin snorted at the idea, but he knew Shawn was being serious, especially with the daydreamy look he was giving. And the blond was always one to one-up himself.

Kevin folded the towel to a dry spot, using it to dab at the sweat along Shawn’s hairline. He pulled Shawn into a soft kiss, whispering, “Let’s just focus on you being IC champ first.”

[sophaeros]

golden trunks theory but i've forgotten how to do literary analysis:

so i think much like a lot of tbhc golden trunks is about a juxtaposition between intimacy/desire and the facade u have to put up as a public figure

like the opening verse/chorus are so starkly plain in the mental image they describe. it's just a simple portrait of an intimate night falling asleep together, and theres a very secretive tone created by the words "whispered" "admit". so from the get go we know immediately that it's about "true love" → romantic connotations, and this true love is associated w the night ie secrecy

this is a stark contrast to the second verse and bridge but esp the bridge where he plainly says "in the daytime". usually the day and light are associated w truth and revealing things but here he uses the daytime to talk about "a fresh new pack of lies", in contrast to the nighttime's "true love". the fact that the bridge is about being a celebrity and contending with lying for the sake of public relations is made very clear w how he says "bendable figures" → public figures who just bend/conform to the narrative crafted by pr managers, and most obviously w the use of the word "publicise". in an interview w la times hes asked if he enjoys being a pop star (w all the pressure and attention that entails) and he says "i have very little basis for comparison. the band has been going on for a larger fraction of my lifetime than it hasn’t." so as a very private person even leaving conspiracy theories about sexuality aside hes obv familiar w trying to keep the details of his relationships out of the spotlight. + this idea of the nighttime being the time for truth has been used before in diwk so it's a consistent theme

lots of people say the song about politics bc of the second verse cuz they say it's about (eugh) donald trump but i feel like thats a very surface reading. it's very out of place to me for him to have this randomass political commentary in a love song that he never brings up ever again which is why i dont think it's actually political commentary (or well, not Just, the pitchfork interview shows that is Is aware of politics obv it's just not the Point) it's just another angle to illustrate the idea of a public facing facade. he states in an interview that he thought of the wwf, which has given us the very interesting concept of kayfabe: the fact or convention of presenting staged performances as genuine or authentic. the public persona, like a wrestler w a dramatic theme song, is larger than life, rehearsed, beloved and famous, and also very much fake. 

this next part i said entirely as a joke making shit up while talking to my mutuals but then i was like wait maybe i was cooking. we're getting into more speculative rpf territory here but essentially i thought it was very interesting how he specifies that this is "the closest thing to a love song on this record", and also that the character it's centred around is one that he "made". many of his past love songs everyone knows are about his real actual love interests (eg shes thunderstorms was about alexa. alexa was a tv presenter) and now here's this song that is about simple, straightforward admittance of desire towards someone that doesnt exist. summed up in my og message to my mutuals, "hes singing to the amalgamation of his lovers an imaginary ideal to whom he can be simple and honest with in a way he can't quite bring himself to be in real life". i honestly feel like this gels well with the ultracheese's last two lines; a vague admission of guilt, of complicated feelings, vs capitulating to honesty and tiring of lying for the sake of pr ("i'm sure you've heard about enough"). + i find it interesting that golden trunks is that only tbhc song that has never been performed live

++ this idea of duplicity and lying has come up a lot in his discography but in tbhc specifically the bside anyways has the line "what a place for both the opposite sides / of my double life to finally collide"

and finally. the absolute funniest part of golden trunks.

Let me set the scene: sometime between Axl Rose getting braids (2002) and People Just Do Nothing jumping the shark (right now), those brothers in melodic yarns Turner and Kane, plus “another human being” – let’s call her “The Girl”, shall we, to save her poor mother’s heart condition? – are intertwined among the postcoital flotsam of an upmarket hotel room. “Hey, I’m glad you came,” Turner is alleged to have said, forever on the right side of etiquette and politeness in such matters. While Kane, in his sludgy Scouser lilt acknowledged, “Ah, thanks, man.” At which point Turner sat bolt upright in his sparkly gold briefs (unconfirmed) to stress who, in fact, his grateful aside was aimed at: “Not you, you wally. Her!”

sauces: - quotes curated by genius - la times - gq magazine / tumblr post

[hannahssimblr]

It’s been a long time since we were three - Jen, Michelle and I, and nobody else. Really it was two first, them, from the first day of junior infants, when children were seated alphabetically. Smythe sat with Tengu, that was the natural order of things, and for them, that was that. 

Plenty of people stay friends with that first kid from that first day, it’s just how it works out. You end up spending eight years or more joined at the hip with that snot nosed kid who borrowed your pencil and chewed off the eraser on the end, or snipped chunks out of your hair with safety scissors. But maybe, even to small children, a special, unbreakable bond is born from the experience of witnessing one another cry softly into your copy books as your parents reverse out of the car park and abandon you in a new, strange place with twenty-nine five year old strangers. 

It worked out well for them, though, Michelle, who was bullied for looking foreign, and Jen, the tiny, confident child who had mastered the art of the creative insult by the time she could speak. Boldly, she stood up to anyone who said a word to her new friend, and no, Tengu isn’t hard to pronounce, you just can’t read. And, by the way, you have chocolate smeared around your mouth. 

I crashed their party in the autumn of 2002, uncomfortable in my first ever uniform, and made to sit down at the back of the room like an inconvenience with maths worksheets while everyone else participated in their Irish lesson. I didn’t even know that Irish was a language before then and thanked my lucky stars that ten years old was considered too late to learn and rendered me exempt, because the thought alone of attempting to make those foreign, hacking sounds at the back of my throat was enough to make me shudder. 

It was Jen, to my left, who nudged me, “are you dyslexic?”

“No, I'm American.”

“What are you doing here then?” 

“I moved.”

“Why?”

I was grateful when the teacher told us to pipe down, because I wasn’t really sure how I was going to answer anyway, but it was only a minute before a piece of folded paper landed on my desk. 

A note.

Did you ever go to Disneyland? Yes No

I circled yes and tossed it back at her. Of course I’ve been to Disneyland, like, five times. My great aunt took me on every single birthday, and I went on all of the rides I was tall enough for. 

The notes didn’t stop, one after another, question after question, and I shrunk a little under her curious gaze at the desk next to me, not really ready to be observed with such intensity, but it didn’t matter what I wanted. Jen wanted answers. 

“Do you have Coronation Street in America?” She said, trailing me into the yard as I tried to find a secluded spot to eat my sandwich.

“Hm? Where’s that?”

She giggled, “What about Quality Street?”

“Are they, like, kinda the same thing?”

“Do you know any WWF wrestlers?”

“I know them on the TV, I guess.”

“But not in real life? Have you met any celebrities?”

“Um, I saw the guy who played Screech on Saved by the Bell one time.”

“I dunno who that is. Anyone else?”

She could be pretty annoying, but disarming and easy to warm to nonetheless, but it was never Jen that was the problem.

It was her best friend Michelle. 

Michelle Tengu didn’t really talk. Kids in the class would try their best to make her say something, they’d ask her if she was mute, which she wasn’t, she was too shy to speak sometimes, and when she did her voice was whisper quiet, which didn’t help.

“What?” Our classmates would bellow, “I can’t hear you, you have to speak up!” and underneath the table her hands would ball into fists and her face would burn furious red. 

Usually kids like Michelle were too much effort for me, I dare say boring, even, I tended to gravitate towards loud, borderline obnoxious types but I quickly learned that wherever my new friend Jen went, Michelle went too, so her presence, I would have to learn to accept.

Once I got over my impatience with Michelle’s quiet nature we tended to get along pretty well, she was the perfect antidote for Jen and I, who would often launch into spirited arguments about stupid things that hardly mattered, but she was so good at being diplomatic, logical, making sense of things that seemed so complicated to us but simple to her. Michelle was very good at being right. All of the time. It was one of the interesting things about her. 

There were other interesting things, of course, which I began to discover during the long, humid summer of 2004. Like the way her hair, long, sleek and black, reflected the sunshine, and her pouty mouth and chestnut brown eyes. Girls weren’t gross to me in that way anymore, especially Michelle.  

It was her house where we hung out, mostly, because my house had a fussy toddler in it and Jen’s parents were weird and always made us participate in chores, but Michelle’s house wasn’t perfect either. Her parents were always hovering within earshot of the living room as we three friends hung out, and they made sure that Michelle’s bedroom was always off limits to me. Jen could go up there all she liked, to fetch a CD or a teen magazine for us to fill out the stupid quizzes, but not me. I had to park myself on that pale blue couch and listen to my friends giggling through the ceiling while Rahim grilled me about my education.

“I don’t get why they’re like that,” Jen would say in consolation when we walked home together after another summer afternoon in the Tengu’s semi detached. “They’re the same with the sleepovers, even though they’d be so much more fun if you were there too. I honestly just don’t get it."

But I did. 

And as time went on the girls would understand too, because by twelve almost everything felt different to the way it felt at ten. There wasn’t only Michelle and her pretty glossy hair anymore, there was Jessie and Alice and Amy, and eventually, my very first girlfriend Holly whose friends used to shove digital cameras into our faces when we tried to kiss at the teenage discos, and who would start dramatic, weekly arguments with me over text message if I dared to so much as ask the girl next to me to borrow a pencil sharpener. 

Things became extra complicated when somebody left a handmade card and a packet of gel pens on my desk for my birthday, which I assumed were from Holly, and thanked her, much to her chagrin, because it hasn’t actually been her, no, she’d bought me tickets to see Dodgeball at the cinema.

It was Michelle. 

Holly insisted that I give them back to her, so I did, with all the sensitivity and tact a newly turned thirteen year old is capable of, which is almost none, and left Michelle standing forlornly in the yard holding the card I had barely read dangling limply from her fingers.

It was her, eventually, who launched a campaign against me after many weeks of being an obliging boyfriend, claiming that I was spending far too much time with Holly and her friends and had forgotten all about those who had welcomed me with their friendship when I was displaced and alone at the beginning, but I didn’t think of it like that. I still wanted to be friends with her and Jen, they were my main friends, but I needed to make time for my new friends too. There was only so much of me to go around, surely, if she were so reasonable, she would understand.

“You don’t care about us at all anymore,” she hissed at me in the school yard with tears in her eyes, “It’s all about Holly and her gang now. Well, she can have you, you don’t have time for anybody else these days.”

She ignored all my attempts to make it up to her, and we only drifted further apart after that, losing ourselves to the new landscape, the new rules of secondary school, finding different interests, different people, different music, ways to dress and express ourselves to spend our time until eventually the only thing we had in common was Jenny Smythe, the girl who had stood in place while we swirled around her, a rock in a churning ocean of teenage angst. If it wasn’t for her, I know I would hardly see Michelle at all. I’d never have to think about her. 

But I do, and now instead of her giggling I hear her sobs through the ceiling of the living room.

Beginning // Prev // Next

Big thank you to @nexility-sims for helping me make sense of this montage scene! It was driving my crazy for weeks <3 <3 <3

[sulfurz]

ೃ༄ HOW IT BEGAN (christian cage x fem!copeland reader)

ೃ༄ PAIRING: christian cage x fem!copeland reader

ೃ༄ REQUESTED BY: anon

Hi honey! I absolutely loved the Christian imagine! Anyway I can request a branching off of that? Could I request a Christian x Female Copeland!Reader headcannon about his and the reader’s relationship from the time they met to maybe present day of him being in AEW?

ೃ༄ WARNINGS: fluff, mentions of pregnancy

ೃ༄ WORD COUNT: 1.3k

you heard about jay before you first met him.

you were a few years younger than adam, not by much, but enough that your older brother made it his mission to annoy the living daylights out of you daily. you were convinced he used his friends to do this.

you knew of jay via adam visiting his friends houses — right from when you were young up until your early teens. adam would not shut up about the man, and by the time the two of you finally met, you were fed up of hearing the name.

when you finally met him, you thought he was just as annoying as your older brother. you’d quite literally hide in your room to avoid the duo whenever they were hanging out at your house.

sometimes, jay would stay over for dinner, and your mother would all but force you to talk to the man. adam always enjoyed how uncomfortable these dinners made you, and would do everything in his power to wind you up beyond compare.

you got used to his presence around the house: always playing video games with adam or practicing their skills in the backyard. in many ways, jay became like an older brother of your own.

this was solidified two weeks before adam and jay graduated from your school. you were waiting for your friend to pick you up when a bunch of girls you had been having trouble with cornered you.

just before they could reduce you to tears, jay appeared. he was quite favourable amongst the younger classes, so the second he came to your rescue, the girls backed off.

he took you home instead, telling you it wasn’t worth going out with your friend in that state.

you missed him when he left.

of course, you missed adam more than anything: your brothers presence was annoying, but without him the silence felt lonely.

dinners with your mom weren’t the same without adam and jay there.

when adam called to tell you he was finally getting his wwf debut, you and your mom travelled from canada to go and support him.

jay was there too, of course, sitting backstage cheering on his best friend for making it — but he had grown up a lot.

his hair was even longer now, and he had grown a lot physically. you were pretty sure he could snap you in half if he wanted to, and you’d honestly welcome it (not that you’d ever tell your brother that).

when jay saw you, his entire face lit up and he rushed across the backstage area to spin you around.

“you’re old.” he commented, referring to your age.

“you’re huge.” you couldn’t resist responding, not bothering to hide how you ogled his muscles.

jay wouldn’t tell you then, but he blushed.

you visited a lot more in the months that followed, travelling to see your brother wrestle, and jay was always there — and you couldn’t help yourself in staring.

not too long after adam’s debut, you started training yourself, having been inspired by your brother. this was the spur that jay needed to get close to you.

when jay debuted himself, under the ring name christian cage, the year after your brother, you made it your mission to be front and centre for every early match.

when he wasn’t training for himself, he was helping you train and spar in the training centre.

it was just before your own debut that the dynamic between the two of you changed.

you had been told their plans to debut you soon, a natural heel following in your older brother’s footsteps, and jay was determined to help you look good on your debut.

your sparring matches increased tenfold, and who could blame you if in the middle of all the sweat and exertion, body on body, you started to want a little more?

your first kiss wasn’t the romantic story everyone expected: it was reckless and downright filthy.

after executing a move that had you cornered against the ropes during one of your many training sessions, jay had moved to pull you up, but unexpectedly crashed his lips against yours.

one hot and heavy makeout session against the ring later, and the two of you tried something. it took time to adjust to the new dynamic, but once you were used to it, you allowed yourself to fall for him quickly.

when you debuted, he was there holding your hand (secretly) the entire time backstage. he gave you hugs and kisses and told you how proud he was of you.

the wwe universe caught glimpses of you two together, and there was many a question about the nature of your relationship. so much so — adam actually questioned you on it.

you panicked and lied to him, saying you were just friends.

it didn’t take long for the truth to come out, adam having barged into your hotel room one day that you left the door unlocked to find you and jay very much making out on the bed.

he didn’t know how to react — he avoided you for a while.

he wasn’t even upset the two of you were dating, he was more hurt that you didn’t think you could tell him.

eventually, everything fell in place and the three of you became an iconic stable in the industry.

you were successful in your own solo career too.

jay proposed to you after you won the women’s championship.

you both fought over who got adam as a bridesmaid/groomsman.

when jay was on one of his many mini retirements, still unlikely to wrestle whilst being considered a concussion risk, he still came to shows with you.

you hadn’t told him your own plans for retirement, nor your reasons why.

the fans, and jay alike were confused why your name wasn’t on the summer slam roster when you were such a star in the wwe universe. they thought maybe you were injured, and some even went as far as blaming management for keeping you out the show.

jay couldn’t understand why he had to come along if you weren’t wrestling, but he followed to appease you.

imagine everyone’s surprise when you came out for a promo mid show — even more so when you announced your immediate break from wrestling.

truthfully, you were ready for new adventures, and you had the biggest one ahead of you.

just like it had all begun, in a wrestling ring, you announced to both jay and the world that you were expecting a baby.

jay cried, he ran straight into the ring to hug you to cheers and celebratory songs from the crowd.

the wwe universe was sad to see you go, but you took up a job commentating for them instead.

your son was everything to you, and he was jay’s best friend.

adam cried more than anyone when he met his nephew, which, of course, jay laughed at him for, before proceeding to cry with him.

when jay returned for one last royal rumble, you sobbed quite a bit. he wouldn’t know, you did most of the crying backstage standing with beth, but seeing him and your brother reunite in the ring? it really got to you.

he wasn’t sure when aew wanted him on board. it took a few weeks of discussion, mainly in which he questioned his own abilities, specifically with his age. you had to spend a while reminding him how physically fit he was, and building him up as much as you could.

you continued commentating for wwe whilst you observed jay in aew: he was truly having the time of his life back in the ring and you loved every second watching him.

having him back on the road travelling again was weird, but he always made sure to facetime you and your son whilst touring.

when he did return home from touring each week, he wouldn’t let you do anything. he’d cook, he’d clean, he’d give you massages — that night was all about you.

ೃ༄ find out how to request via my page

[rainchyna]

𓆩♡𓆪 episode nine: THE HEARTBREAK KID’S PLAN

i’m sorry for making y’all wait long for this garbage.

7:42 am, training.

you never understood why Summer Slam was held in August, August was the beginning of fall. why call it the biggest party of the summer when people are just beginning to over feed their turkeys?

Vince is a creative genius! they say, but June is the epitome of summer, why not do it then? you ask, shut up they reply. who are they? the little voices that cause your daily brain rot known as the WWF creative.

maybe the little voice in your head wasn’t the WWF creative, maybe it was Bret Hart, because it sure does sound like he’s talking to you. wait a minute…

“y/n! get up, what the hell are you doing?”. Bret wasn’t the only person in the ring with you, Owen was running all the ropes over you and you just laid there. you groan out loud and the brothers look at you. “you alright, bud?” Owen asked, “nah man!” you sit up. “what is it?” Bret sits next to you.

“Shawn Michaels!” you exclaim, Bret chuckles, “tell me about it”. you shake your head as it falls to your palm, “no, you don’t get it. we’ve been mostly hostile for the past two weeks, but apparently Shawn and peace don’t come together!” you explain.

“wait” Owen says as he sits on your other side, “what did he do?”

“I was going to the cafeteria earlier, to get coffee and what not, tell me why a staff member pulls me to the side taking ‘bout “oh Shawn’s been trying to get creative to change up the storyline of the y/n-Taker angle”” you say.

“what?” Bret asks and Owen frowns, “what does he gain from that?” he asks. you aggressively shrug before flopping back down, you were both pissed and confused.

why the hell would he be trying to do that? what was the reason? was it something you did? does he just not like you anymore? does he want out of it? because you sure as hell can replace him, and he’s not even on your team!

“you should talk to him” Bret said, you look at him. “and who the hell is he for me to talk to him? I’ll just go directly to Vince” you said. “matter of fact, I’ll go to him right now!”

it wasn’t that long after and you were already knocking on Vince’s door. “oh, y/n, well you’re here early” he smiles as you enter. “drop the fake nice act, you know why I’m here” you say and his face drops as he looks at the paperwork in front of him.

you sit on a chair in front of him and the place your championship on the chair next to you. “whatever it is that that boy Michaels is trying to do better stop immediately.” you begin.

“I don’t know what the hell is going through his head, but if tries fucking with my story, if he tries fucking with my money, he won’t be as pretty as he is right now”.

Vince was nervous, certainly not because he was scared of you or… anything.. but he already okayed Shawn’s idea. they talked about it over the phone yesterday and he thought it was brilliant, excellent even. however, your contact does end by the time it should be executed because it’ll happen on the last bit of your feud with Taker.

and if this is how you’re reacting to just the thought of the idea, you will one hundred percentage not resign if you find out about it.

and what’s he going to do? find another fresh face that the fans will support and go with fully? the fact he was even able to sign you is insane and the amount of money you’ve made for the company since your debut is even crazier. Vince literally couldn’t risk it.

or could he?

“out of everyone you could take ideas from, his?! you took his?! seriously what were you thinking? and why did I have to find out through a staff member? you need to get your priorities straight and make some changes ‘round here”

Vince nods, “yes, Y/n, of course”

“and speaking of making some changes…” you cross your legs as you pull your championship on your lap. “it’s my turn to give you some ideas”

8:27 pm, y/n’s locker room.

“what the hell…” you mutter, who did this to your locker room?

there were five -or at least what you can count- large flower bouquets laid out on the floor, more than fifteen smaller bouquets on your couch and a singular red card on the table in the middle of the room.

from pink to red, yellow, white, and orange, big, medium and small. roses, lilies, tulips, some you couldn’t even names, the room smelled like a freshly watered garden, it was absolutely lovely.

well, this was something!

you were excited because what if someone backstage had a thing for you? trying to be cute with their confession? hmm… but what if it’s an obsessive stalker is trying to kill you? and this was their of expressing their love for you?

you cringe at your own thought before picked up the card from the table.

you’ll find your way to me, one way or another ♡

xoxo, your backstage admirer.

you read the message over and over again, each time it got more interesting, but what got you the most was the perfectly drawn heart at the end.

okay…

but now what?

the girls need to see this!

you grab one of the bouquets and the card in your hand and walk back out into the hallway, only to immediately bump into someone.

“sorry!” you didn’t even see who that was, “whatcha got there, pretty girl?”, of course it was Shawn. “what do you want? actually! do you know who put those here?” you ask.

you push the flowers to the side, Shawn shakes his head. “I‘be been wondering why my allergies have been triggered, I see why now” he says, you rolled your eyes. “I didn’t ask all that” you say, “do you or do you not know?” you ask.

Shawn huffs and he faints being hurt, placing a hand on his chest. “you’re so mean to me!” you begin walking away and towards the dressing room when he says.

“what if I do know him”, you can practically hear his smirk. “then tell me”, he shakes his head again, “be nice to me!” he demands. again with the be nice to me shit, you are nice to him! sometimes!

“i’ll find out myself!”

oh find out yourself, alright.

Shawn knew what he was doing, why would he tell you who it was? as far as he’s concerned he was a part of this little plan, and he benefited from it. you can try as hard as you wanted to but you were never going to find out.

you didn’t need him, but you wanted to know who that is so badly. little did you know, someone was watching your little interaction from afar.

“wait so who…?” Chyna asked, “I don’t know and it’s killing me!” you head falls to your palm, “it’s probably your man” Lita teases.

“huh?” you look up, she rolls her eyes, “don’t act all dumb now, you know we see you and Hunter” Lita wiggled her eyebrows. wait, she’s onto something..

you didn’t even consider Hunter as an option because the card said “secret”, maybe you do know the person! maybe it is Hunter!

but why write secret admirer? and what were the flowers for? you have so many questions.

“what is it with you and Hunter by the way?” Chyna smiles, “oh, for fuck’s sake” you mutter hiding a smile.

you don’t know what you and Hunter are.

you really like each other but no one is making the first move, you find yourself tangled in his bedsheets more often that you should, he catches himself staring at you longer than appropriate, it’s the little touches and the stolen kisses, nothing ever goes further, but deep down you both want them to.

“I don’t know” you mutter as you walk towards the door, “where are you going?” Lita asks, “I got some digging to do! and some questions that need answers..”

10:18 pm, Raw <Live> w/ Y/n Y/l/n and Mr. Perfect on commentary!

the match you wrestled tonight was a bit upsetting to you, you loved working with Luna! you absolutely did, but you had to squash her on tonight’s Raw per Vince’s request.

he wasn’t budging so you just did what you had to do, it was a quick match and the crowd was puzzled as to why it went by so fast but at least you showed up tonight.

the highlight of the match however, was you and Gorilla Monsoon showing off the new women’s championship design, which the crowd popped massively for.

this morning you showed Vince a sketch of what you thought would look cool on a belt, and he liked it enough to were he said that he knew a guy that knew a guy that get the belt fully designed by the end of the day.

and here it was, propped up in front of you at the commentary desk as you sat next to Jim Ross and Jerry Lawrer. the match you were watching was Marc Mero vs. Hunter Hearst Helmsley for intercontinental championship, the match was supposed to be between Hunter and Mr. Perfect, but alas, a match was booked.

“I really feel bad about not being able to perform in front of all of these great fans” Mr. Perfect said, you laugh. “it’s not like you’d be able to win anyways” you snicker, “I see you’re Hunter’s team, Y/n” Jim says, you nod. “have you seen Hunter?” you ask. “I definitely see him and OH! Hunter with a suplex!”

you didn’t know what to expect from being commentary, it was weird watching from outside of the ring, but definitely an experience.

Hunter pushes the referee into the the ropes to stop Marc from hitting “the wild thing”, in Japan it’s called a shooting star press but apparently no one has done it here before which in itself was a wild thing.

“we’ll that wasn’t gentlemanly of him!” Mr. Perfect bellowed, “oh he’s is a gentleman alright!” you defend him. “oh yeah? what do you know about Hunter?” Mr. Perfect asked, “a lot! and none of it is of your business!”

“you listen here, little girl-”

“or what?”

the crowd pops as Marc launches himself at Hunter from the top rope, he gets up after a bit and they begin throwing each other around and Hunter pushes Marc on the referee, Mr. Perfect stands up and Jim warns him to not interfere.

“he won’t interfere” you say getting up, “but I will!”, you rush towards the ring and the audience cheers again, you make sure the referee stays down as Mr. Perfect also rushes to the ring, steel chair in hand.

he hands it to you.

you walk towards Hunter, but hit Marc with the chair making him drop to the mat. Mr. Perfect drags the referee towards Hunter who now covered Marc to count.

1,2,3!

the crowd pops and Hunter’s music plays, he’s the new champion. Mr. Perfect hands him the IC championship and hands you yours. Hunter hugs Mr. Perfect, they he hugs you tightly, then picks you up over his shoulder as you both raise your championships.

this one hundred percent will intensify your dating rumours.

shenanigans, but at least you participated.

you barely made it back to the locker room area before Hunter was spinning you around and about, kissing all over your face.

“i’m so proud of you!” you hold him close, “now we both have gold” he smiles, “thank you, angel”. you giggle, “you already thanked me, Hunter. you’ve done enough” you say.

“by the way, what’s with the flowers?”

[1800miserablethot]

Bret x Shawn and Bret’s Bottom because I say so <3

Also it’s kinda sloppy sorry

Summary: Shawn really wants Bret in the Heartbreak Hotel (Smut)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The heartbreak Hotel, the place ladies want to be at and where men wish to be him or hell be with him too. But there was one man in particular that always had Shawn’s eye, the leader of the Hart Family Bret the so called “Hitman” Hart. His rival, enemy, whatever people wanted to call their feud.

He couldn’t get enough of the stupid Canadian, he did everything in his power to piss him and or the family off just so he could be near Bret. Some called it obsession, while others saw it as him being a suck up. Regardless of the label, Shawn was willing to risk it all just to see those brown sly eyes shine his way.

So when the day came that he was told he was doing a promo with Bret with his HeartBreak Hotel setting his heart practically bursted out of his chest. Especially at when Bret walked onto the set, how his face was illuminating the red lights. How he stood there with one hand on the title and the other on his pants.

Fuck it took everything in Shawn’s power not to break script and to toss the Canadian onto the heart shaped silk bed. The tension between them was palpable, and Bret didn’t make it easy on him with how his dark chocolate eyes gazed up at Shawn. He could hardly concentrate on the words coming out of his own mouth. All he could focus on was the small smirks that tugged on Bret’s lips, hoping that it broke into a smile so he could see those pearly whites.

And when the promo was over, you know that one corny saying that goes like “I hate to see them go but I love to watch them leave.” Yeah well that was exactly Shawn, he hated watching Bret leave his presence yet he loved to see the Hitman’s hips taunter with each step he took.

Now here he was backstage in his locker room laying on the heart shape bed, staring at the ceiling while once again thinking about a certain Canadian.

His lips curling into a grin as he sits up on the bed. Maybe he could get Bret on this bed, his grin growing bigger as he walks over to the door and into the hallway. Eager to catch another glimpse of the man who occupied his thoughts day and night. As Shawn made his way through the bustling backstage area, his heart raced with anticipation. The familiar sounds of people preparing for their matches filled the air, but Shawn was focused on finding Bret.

With each step he took, Shawn couldn’t help but wonder if this longing he felt was reciprocated. Did Bret feel even a fraction of the desire he felt? Or was this all just a one-sided infatuation?

Through the labyrinth of corridors he quickly stopped by the main one. Walking in he looks through the bags until he finds Bret, laughing loudly when he sees the WWF championship sitting in it. “Oh this is too good,” he murmurs before grabbing it and making his way back into the halls. Eventually catching sight of Bret. He was standing alone reading a newspaper, Shawn paused, taking a moment to admire the way Bret’s defined muscles stretched against his tight t-shirt. He shakes his head, with a smirks he yells out “Hey Hitman!”

His smirk turns into a grin as he dangled the title seeing Bret’s face tighten with anger. He turns on his heels and books it down the halls, pushing pass people as he heard Bret’s booping voice behind him along with his footsteps which echoed off the wall.

Shawn’s heart pounded in his chest as he raced through the backstage area, the adrenaline fueling his every move. The thrill of the chase mixed with the excitement of being so close to Bret energized Shawn. He could feel a surge of electricity coursing through his veins, making his grin even wider.

He turns a sharp corner, he could see his dressing room up ahead. He could hear Bret’s voice growing louder behind him. The sound of his footsteps quickened, giving Shawn the motivation to push even harder. The backstage area seemed to blur as Shawn darted through until he got to his locker room.

Busting through he tosses the belt onto the bed, trying to shut the door but Bret was on his heels. Slamming the door shut then grabbing Shawn and pushing him onto the bed.

(‘What did he say? Told you he could get Bret onto this bed’ )Shaking his head Shawn comes out his thoughts, he swiftly bucks his hips, catching Bret off guard and causing him to lose his balance. He rolls on top of the older man, pinning Bret’s wrist to the side of his head.

“Didn’t think Canadians were this dumb.” He laughs, but it quickly dies down when Bret strains his neck forward, whispering “We aren’t.” Against Shawn’s lips before connecting them.

Arching his back off the bed, pressing his body against Shawn’s. A soft moan being muffled into the kiss as he feels Shawn’s hands move down to his hips, pulling him in closer. Bret grinds his hips up against the younger man, his head spinning at the feeling of his jeans rubbing against Shawn’s gear.

The fleeting thought of his WWF Championship title eases its way into the back of Bret’s mind. Soon to be forgotten about as Shawn trails kisses down his neck, a gasp slipping pass him when he feels one hand grope his ass through the thick denim. Bret grits his teeth, trying to hold back the moan that threatens to escape. His hands flailing to the silky pillow case under him.

"Fuck," Shawn whispered, still lost at the fact his plan actually worked. His eyes wandered to Bret's face. With hazy eyes Bret looks back at Shawn, “Pussy out already, Michael’s?” he teased, his voice low and a bit horsed.

Shawn swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving Bret’s face. Fuck he was pretty like this, face flushed softly and inky black hair sticking to his forehead. “You wished,” he murmurs, his hands working at Bret’s jeans. The sound of the metal zipper dragging down filled the room. The denim material rustling with each movement. His hands slide to the waistband of Bret’s jeans, tugging them down. The material pools around Bret’s ankles, leaving him exposed.

Shawn can feel his breath catch in his throat at the sight of the man under him. Bret’s chest heaving up and down, the tip of his cock glistening with precum-fuck how the hell could Bret get embarrassed over this? He looked so damn good, it burned its way into Shawn’s mind. Slowly making his way back up, leaving kisses in his path, lips brushing over Bret’s skin feeling it tighten under his touch.

Rising Bret’s shirt up, he swipes his tongue over one of the dark nipples. Grinning at the low groan he got in return, Shawn takes the opportunity to tweak it with his teeth. Chuckling softly at how Bret’s hips writhe against his own, listening to the loud gasp that filled the room.

His hand trails down between them, wrapping itself around Bret’s dick. Bret's brow furrowed, and his lips parted as a low moan escaped him. Feeling Shawn’s grip become firmer around his tip. A soft whimper slipping pass his lips, “S-Shawn.” He stammers, his chest heaving up and down under Shawn’s touch. His hand grips onto the silky material of the pillowcase. “Fuck,” Bret whispers, feeling a buildup of heat in between his legs as Shawn trails kisses upward towards him. Nobody’s ever felt so nice against him like Shawn does, every touch leaves a trail of fireworks on his skin.

His head lulls back, eyes closing as he focuses in on Shawn’s touch. He can feel the heat radiating off himself, a warmth that spread through every part of his body until it settled in his lower stomach, where an uncomfortable tightness now filled him.

He tried to warn Shawn but all he could manage to croak out was a whine before his hips are spasming as he cums onto his stomach and Shawn’s hand. His eyes flutter back open, looking up at the brunette above him.

Shawn brings his messy fingers up to Bret’s lips, pushing them into his mouth. Watching that pretty little tongue wrap its way around his fingers. A low groan of his own fills the silent room, his other hand messing with the buckles of his gear top. Pulling away, he sits back on his heels.

Shimming the top off his shoulders letting it fall to the ground with a thump. his hands working at buttons and zipper of his pants. He sighs feeling relief flood through him when his cock springs free from the tight fabric. He gleams down at Bret, slowly crawling up him until he was straddling Bret’s upper chest.

“My turn Hitman,” he purrs softly, his fingers finding their way into Bret’s hair gripping it. “Open.” He demands, grinning when Bret opens his mouth without hesitation. Resting his other hand on the bed board railing, he slides his cock slowly into the warm, wet heat of Bret’s mouth. He lets out a groan, his eyes rolling lazily before shutting. “Fuckk, that’s it baby.” He pants reopening his eyes, “Doing so good already.”

He whimpers quietly, pushing further into Bret’s mouth until his hips are flushed against Bret’s face. Rocking them back and forth slowly, hearing the small gag Bret let out. “Come on baby boy you can take it,” He murmurs using Bret’s hair to guide his head up and down.

Glancing down, seeing Bret’s eyes squeeze shut as he gags again, earning a chuckle from Shawn. He pulls out completely, his tip resting on Bret’s bottom lip. “Now Hitman I know you can do better than that.” He tease before thrusting his dick back into Bret’s mouth, choking out a moan when Bret’s fingertips dig firmly into his upper thighs forcing him deeper into his mouth.

He gripped the back of Bret’s head, holding him in place as he began to thrust into Bret’s mouth with quick ruts of his hips. “Let me see those pretty eyes baby.” He mumbles, tapping the side of Bret’s cheek watching his eyes flutter open showing off those watery, glazed over dark eyes.

Feeling Bret’s chest rise and lower under him fairly quickly, hearing him let out a muffled keen. “Getting close again?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder grinning at the sight of Bret’s legs spread and trembling while his dick leaked precum onto his stomach, seeing it drip down onto the bed and mix with the old cum. He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his mouth, turning back to look down at Bret. “Yeah that’s it, cum with me baby. Cum by me fucking ur tight little mouth.”

When Bret’s moan vibrates around his cock that was it, throwing his head back he thrust once more into Bret’s mouth as he spills down the man’s throat. His head spun, feeling Bret’s hands wrap around his waist holding him in place.

“Fuck B-Bret.” His legs trembled and tighten around Bret’s head as overstimulation spreads throughout his body. When Bret’s hands finally unlatch him, he pulls off slowly laying next to Bret on the bed. Glancing down looking at the even bigger mess that was made before looking up at Bret. Grinning he leans in kissing softly at his neck, before whispering in his ear “Welcome to the Heartbreak Hotel, Hitman.”

[magnoliacharmed]

Acting Up

18+, Stone Cold Steve Austin x Shawn Michaels | Bret Hart x Shawn Michaels one shot

[Also available on Archive of Our Own!]

Tags: Alcohol use, Referenced drug use, angry sex, facial, jealousy, light enemies to friends, a little bit of hartbreak

Word count: 3144

Summary:

Steve Austin is getting tired of Shawn Michaels' attitude backstage. --- “It was Bret that broke the Heartbreak Kid's heart. If I'm gonna be honest, I didn't even know you had one.”

Shawn was really fucking annoying. In every way possible that a human being could work Steve’s nerves, Shawn did it. When people pointed out how good of friends they could be, Steve took notice. They did have a ton in common, from being from the same state to drinking habits to taste in women. They really should’ve been the best of friends. 

But Shawn decided to Shawn it up backstage. He started throwing his status around making all kinds of crazy demands. His temper was at its peak and everyone suffered because of it. When he wasn’t ranting and raving he was half way to passing out due to his excessive use of pills. He could barely get his words out when he had to speak, his normally animated voice slurred and monotone. It was embarrassing. So no, Steve had very little interest in being friends with Shawn. That ship had sailed. Maybe one day down the line if Shawn got it together they could just drink a beer and watch some college football…

Shawn didn’t really give a fuck if Steve Austin liked him. That wasn’t his problem. All he had to do was go out there in the ring and cut a few good promos with him. If they got along after the fact, that was great. If they didn’t, fuck him. Shawn had enough friends. Friends who really liked him, too. Friends who hung on to his every word and were always willing to party all night with him. Even when his other friends left to go to WCW— well he didn’t want to think about that. 

Sure, he still saw Kevin and Scott and Sean around. Whenever WCW had shows nearby they all met up at the closest bar to catch up on life. It just wasn’t the same as it used to be. With the way WCW was on fire, they were so up in the clouds that little ol’ Shawn was not as much of a priority as he used to be. He actually considered jumping ship to WCW too and was strongly encouraged to by them. Then Vince McMahon got in his ear like usual singing sweet words and promising him the world, so he stayed put at WWF. With each passing day Shawn wondered if that was the right choice. 

He wasn’t the only one backstage thinking about leaving. Bret Hart had some shocking offers thrown his way by Eric Bischoff, offers that could have had him and his family set for life. McMahon started to counter with his own exorbitant counteroffers, which made Bret feel very wanted. They weren’t as good of a deal as Bischoff’s and it made Bret sit down to think about what he was still getting out of staying with the WWF. 

If you would’ve asked him earlier in the year…? With no hesitation or second thoughts, Bret would have said Shawn was the reason he’d stay. Despite the surface level similarities Shawn and Steve had with each other, Shawn and Bret had a lot more in common. Things they would’ve never realized they shared until late nights spent together. The pair of lovers didn’t know how well they got along until they were stuck in hotel rooms with one another. Night after night of forced proximity led them to taking steps further into the physical territory, something that scared Bret shitless. None of it seemed new to Shawn. He guided Bret through some clumsy first sessions that eventually led to the best and most intimate sex he’d ever had in his entire life. 

Of course as soon as Bret began to start falling for Shawn, Shawn began to act up. Bret couldn’t understand where the sudden switch-up came from. It’s not like he’d changed on him in any way. He wasn't as touchy as Shawn could be and would occasionally distance himself from him. That was just so any rumors wouldn't get started, not because he didn't care for him. Bret didn’t know how to react when Shawn got unhinged with him. He started claiming that Bret was just using him, that he was only around to use him as a toy. No matter what he said or did to convince Shawn otherwise he just couldn’t break through. So he stopped trying at all. As much as he liked Shawn’s personality and the way he arched his back up for him, all of that just wasn’t worth the drama. After their final explosive last argument the two of them iced each other out and only interacted when forced to. 

At this point in his career Shawn didn’t care about being well liked. He didn’t have to be well liked by everyone. He had his crew. McMahon was still surprisingly on his side no matter what problems he caused amongst everyone. His supply of drugs and alcohol was flowing. He’d be fine without boring Bret Hart. There were plenty of men around who wanted Shawn. They would fuck him six ways to Sunday all day and all night. Bret may have been an amazing lay but he wasn’t that good. Shawn could find someone else in a heartbeat. 

“Michaels, what the fuck? You’re still back here?” Steve appeared at the doorway of Shawn’s dressing room. He’d been walking around the arena looking for Shawn for what felt like forever. No one thought to tell him he’d still be in his dressing room because he was usually a lot better about getting to gorilla on time. 

Shawn took the last few swigs from his bottle of whiskey. His eyes bounded over to Steve, first to look at the pissed off look plastered on his face and then to look down at his oiled chest. 

“You dress like shit, Austin.” Burp. 

“Man, this ain’t a damn fashion show. It’s wrestling. Get your ass together and let’s go, we’re on soon.”

“I’m together, I don’t need anyone telling me to get it together. Especially not you.” Steve was hot when he was mad. Well, Shawn thought everyone was hot when they were mad. It turned him on to know he could make someone that emotional over him.

Steve was surprised at how alert Shawn still was after having that whole bottle to himself. It only served to make him more angry. It’s not like he was about to pass out or was stumbling over himself. He was barely fucked up! The alcohol only heightened his bad attitude. He just wanted to be defiant. And for what? Just to say he got him upset?

“What is your problem? You’ve been even more of a bastard these last few weeks and you’re starting to make my job a lot harder. What, you’re mad the ring rats ain't chasing after you like they used to?”

Shawn shook his head. The groupies had lost their appeal a long time ago. If anything, he liked playing the groupie now. He liked being the one in awe at someone so much bigger and stronger than him. His cock twitched at the thought of Bret tossing him on many a hotel bed. Unfortunately, Bret truly was the best there was. It pained Shawn to admit how hard he got when he thought of him. He was just so good at knowing when Shawn wanted to be fucked versus when he wanted to be loved . Shawn’s eyes got even glassier thinking about the way Bret got in his ear during some particularly intense nights—

“Michaels!”

Shawn felt reprimanded. Almost like he had to straighten his posture and stand at attention at the way Steve said his name. So bossy.

“Lemme tell you something, Steve. The rats like me just fine. They always will, as long as I keep giving this to them.” Shawn grabbed at his crotch and laughed out loud. Drunk idiot.

“Yeah, right. So it’s not the ladies, huh? Must be someone backstage, then.”

Shawn’s face flushed. The bad thing about being out of his mind so often was that his emotions were harder to conceal. He was sure his erection was already extremely noticeable. Now he was blushing so badly his whole face was red. 

“Oh it definitely is.” Steve laughed at him. “I knew it. The boys back there had been sayin’ some things but I didn’t pay them any mind. Now I know it’s true. Aw man, Shawn.”

Shawn’s chair hit the floor with a loud clatter when he got up to get in Steve's face. His breath was huffing out of his nose and his eyebrows scrunched up. He didn’t feel like being the punchline to anyone’s joke tonight. 

“So the fuck what if it's true?”

“So the fuck nothing, I don’t give a shit.”

Shawn was deflated at Steve's acceptance. He was itching for a real fight. The pent up anger deep within him had been coming to a head in the last few days. There was no way he would win with Steve one-on-one and he knew it. It was probably for the best that he didn't start something he couldn’t finish.

“Okay. Yeah, it was one of the guys.” Shawn cleared his throat and took a few steps back from Steve. 

“One of the guys…” 

Steve had to really think on that one. It would be easy enough to believe that Shawn had hooked up with Hunter since they spent so much time together. That was too obvious, plus they were still good friends. Could’ve been Undertaker. Steve wouldn’t have been surprised by that. He opened his mouth to give his final answer when he recalled the way Bret Hart spoke of Shawn one evening while they stood at the catering table. 

“If he wasn’t so pretty no one would’ve put up with his shit for this long.”

Realization struck Steve like lightning. Bret had said that comment with no semblance of jealousy in his voice. There was no hate either. What Bret did sound like though was a scorned lover. There was a lot of bitterness present within him. Steve didn’t even think twice about it at the time. It all made sense after a few minutes of thinking.

“It was Bret that broke the Heartbreak Kid's heart. If I'm gonna be honest, I didn't even know you had one.”

The anger started bubbling in Shawn again. He wasn’t even sure if it was at Steve or Bret this time. It came back with a vengeance. 

“Actually, it probably didn’t go that way. Knowing you, you probably did something to piss him off and he got tired of you. You broke your own heart.”

Steve’s raspy voice saying such perceptive words was enough to send Shawn over the edge. He was back in Steve’s face again and ready to get in that fight, ass whooping be damned. 

“Can’t even imagine the two of you together. I guess it does make some sense. Two crybabies in love with each other. I’m sure you were the one cryin’ more though. Even looks like you’re about to right now.”

“What is all this? You picking on me for a reason?”

“Yeah, because of your little love affair with Hart you’ve been even more of an asshole recently. You’re fucking everything up for me. If you don’t calm down soon I’ll make you calm down.”

“You can’t make me do shit.”

Shawn could not believe how fast Steve could move. He was thrown over the arm of the dressing room’s couch, face pushed into the cushion in a flash. One of Steve's hands pressed into his lower back while the other reached forward to push Shawn’s pants down, then his own. Shawn’s body squirmed with anticipation and the primal urge to run away. 

“Bret said you were pretty. I’d never really thought about it before, but he was right. You are pretty. From all that hair on your head to the tattoo on your ass.” 

Shawn was unable to handle anything Steve just said, from Bret calling him pretty to Steve agreeing with him. Shawn didn’t even think that Steve swung the other way and now here he was bending him over. In his self-absorbed mind he chalked it up to being so sexy that even straight guys wanted him. 

“What the hell is going on?!”

“Seems like you can’t function if you aren’t getting fucked right. If I gotta be the one to do it since Bret doesn’t want you any more, so be it. You’ll be on your best behavior by the time I’m done with you.”

Shawn pushed himself against Steve and wasn’t disappointed by what he felt. Steve's dick rested heavily between Shawn’s ass, a pretty picture Steve would be sure to remember. He’d had a few fumblings in his past with men but never anything with someone as attractive as Shawn. Along with his pretty face, Steve had to admit that Shawn’s personality got him going in that kind of hatefuck way. Even when he was being a terror, something about the way he strutted around like he was the Prince of the WWF made Steve want to put him in his place. Nothing would be better than beating Shawn in the ring and making him submit in bed. 

Shawn had a lot to say to Steve, he was going to give him a real piece of his mind as soon as we able to push him off—

The words died away immediately at the sensation of Steve pushing into him. It hurt at the start, the only thing lubing him up being the spit from Steve’s mouth that he’d rubbed on to himself. He was fucking huge. While he’d gotten used to Bret’s length over the months, Steve was a lot more girth. Shawn’s eyes crossed as Steve pushed himself deeper. The arch in his back threatened to fall. 

“You better keep yourself up the whole time.” Steve ordered him. He had no plans of being gentle with him. He wanted to see how much Shawn could take. It turned out that it was a lot more than he expected.

Shawn writhed below with every hard thrust of Steve inside of him. Heat bloomed across his skin and creeped up past his neck. It was a gorgeous sight to see him all fidgety and needy. Punched out moans were followed out long, dragging ones when Steve slowed down and went arched himself deeper. Shawn liked to whimper, he noticed. It was cute.

Shawn's long hair flung itself back when he raised his head to readjust his position. It was hard to keep himself steady on his elbows with the way Steve kept pounding him into the cushion. Eventually he gave up and let himself fall into it. The fight was drained out of his body, he was ready to get what he deserved. Steve’s fingertips dug deep into the tanned flesh on Shawn’s hips, his pace already stuttering. He was just so tight and… eager for him. Like he was everything he had been waiting for.

Shawn managed to get his arm under himself to stroke his aching cock. As soon as he touched it he was ready to come, he was so sensitive. With the movements of Shawn reaching down to touch himself he managed to push himself even farther back on Steve. The breaths he exhaled were shaky as he matched the pattern of Steve’s thrusts to his own strokes. It only took seconds for Shawn to spurt out long ropes of his come onto the couch below him. His legs almost gave out when he finally released. It didn’t help that Steve had fucked him right through it. Shawn mumbled incoherently to himself while Steve kept going. On top of the alcohol making him stupid, Steve’s dick was also contributing to his blank state of mind. 

Watching Shawn come was a sight to behold. His whole body contracted when it happened. His babbling after it was so weirdly attractive that Steve knew he was close too. All of a sudden Shawn was pushed off of Steve and onto his knees on the floor. 

Steve was a sweaty mess. Anyone looking at him after the fact might have though he just got done with an iron man match.  It dripped down from his head and into his eyes. He quickly wiped it away with his free hand while stroking himself with his other. There was no way he was going to miss the sight of this.

Shawn blinked at him with big, wet eyes. God, he really was a crybaby. The smile on his face could only be described as delirious. Steve groaned when he came, hot spurts covering Shawn's lips and cheeks and nose. The most impatient man in the world would have waited an eternity if that’s how long it took for Steve to finish stroking every last drop from himself. He got a lot of enjoyment at being able to stare up at Steve's body.

“Alright,” It was taking a minute for Steve to catch his breath. “You gonna stop being a dick now?”

Shawn nodded in a daze. He so badly wanted to walk out of the room with Steve’s come still painted all over his face and find Bret just to show him that someone still wanted him. Doing that would guarantee that he’d never get to feel Steve inside of him again, so he restrained himself.

“Good.” Steve walked across the room to find a box of tissues to clean himself up with, then threw it in Shawn’s direction. He was impressed he still had the wherewithal to catch it even after getting his world rocked. “Stick around after the show, we’re gonna get a beer.” 

“Okay.” Shawn could barely stand, let alone walk. He was happy he didn’t have to actually wrestle tonight. Steve waited for him at the doorway while he made his way over slowly. He was completely blissed out and easygoing and it made Steve laugh on the inside. Who knew it’d be that easy?

The two men talked casually with each other as they walked out of Shawn’s dressing room and down past Bret. He was standing in the hall building up courage to work things out with Shawn when he saw them exit the room. Instead of the usual look of contempt Steve had for Shawn, he instead looked relatively happy. Shawn himself was the most relaxed he’d seen him in a while, not since one of the last times they’d had sex…

Oh, shit.

Bret felt his heart drop into his stomach as soon as Shawn smiled his way. The skin by his former lover’s glittering blue eyes crinkled when he laughed at whatever story Steve was telling him. The Heartbreak Kid had struck again and with Stone Cold Steve Austin of all people. No, this wasn't over yet. Not if Bret had anything to do with it.

[bigredsweetiepie]

Thoughts about a certain someone🦷pt.1

Unfortunately for Mr. Glenn Jacobs, I think about Isaac Yankem frequently. Like, he is definitely one of my hyper fixations. 😅

I consider myself a scholar of this character and I honestly enjoy the design of Yankem. Due to the way that 90s wrestling and specifically the WWF was doing in '95, its really no surprise that the character tanked in a year. It's sad that he wasn't around for long, but it just wasn't reasonable for him to stick around too much longer after the Jerry Lawler -Brett Hart rivalry. He was a fun addition during that time, and it was camp!

Poor Glenn himself has said it was camp (not in a good way- and I don't blame him). If I was trying to support my family with my passion, and I had to portray a dentist with horrible teeth in the mid 90s, I would be understandably upset as well. I can't help but feel that the WWF was "playing in his face" because why would they put such a horrible gimmick to such a talented BIG man?

However, since his career took off afterwards eventually with Kane, I don't feel like a complete and total jerk liking IY. ( I think it would be a different story if his career died after portraying Yankem, but thankfully Jacobs is hard-working, resilient, and passionate to the point where he gracefully managed the hand he was dealt and succeeded!)

Now, let's talk character design and what I like about him.

Bc I'm a young adult on a Kane-posting tumblr you could imagine that my tastes are not......standard issue. I like deranged characters! Kane is a great, vanilla (ish) version of that. I also can't help but like the crazed doctor trope, something about it is always chef's kiss.

So years ago when I first found Kane and professional wrestling, I was absolutely giddy when I discovered that the man who portrayed him also played a deranged dentist?! Please lord. It was like a two for one special (but I also enjoyed Doomsday, Unabom , and Diesel II so it was like a coupon book).

His entrance music leaves less to be desired, I do enjoy that Jim Johnston included calming elevator music with the drill, but ya know, it is what it is.

Speaking of his entrance, oh my god ? The Yankem grillz on the screen? I think about those frequently . I really can't imagine that in the year '95 that it was edited on, so I imagine that it was a real pair of grillz that WWF made for Jacobs. I can't find anything on them, but they crack me up every time I see them.

Also when IY walks out to the ring he'll say some phrases that are in character. There are two I can make out with my very poor lip reading skills and close listening.

It's time for an extraction.

(Care for your teeth ) you only get one set.

God that is perfect.

Continuing with the entrance themes, when he takes off his dentist smock? help?! He does it so aggressively.😅

I love his attire anyways, especially how he has those long boots under his baggy pants, which were special because most wrestlers had tights on, so the fact he had baggier pants that hid long ass boots underneath is a great surprise ( see when he was tied up by Bret Hart on the turnbuckle). I somehow always expect smaller shoes, but the boots keep going up.🤣I somehow always see them as patent leather dress shoes.

(I kinda want to make an entire post based on his attire bc I love it, so more on that later)

The way he moves in the ring is fantastic. I personally can't tell what Glenn was talking about when he said his matches were horrible. To a non-professional it looks fine. Maybe he was referring to this in a technical manner? I really have no idea. However, one thing I think he excelled whether on purpose or accident was how he moved in the ring. He moved stiff and rushed and rather chaotic, which I think fit a wrestling dentist (No offense Britt Baker!!). In theory if you were a crazed dentist, you wouldn't be graceful, fluid, or pleasing to look at while you were dissecting your patient opponent.

Anyways, I will probably make a part 2 bc that is a lot of dumping....

[oddeyevibes]

The Rock w/ A Goth S/O

(Like usual, this is kayfabe compliant. Also, this has elements of my fic idea basically but I’m still workshopping stuff so I decided to do headcanons cause why not)

You debuted just before the WWF fully embraced their attitude and aspects of goth sub-culture bled into the federation. So that made you kind of an oddball but, obviously, you embraced it.

So it was an odd pairing between you and “Rocky Maivia”. This rookie femme fatale and this fresh-faced third gen up-and-comer looking to make a name for himself.

I would say, maybe in the beginning you two would keep your relationship under wraps, with the both of you coming off as either friends or twos newbies simply looking out for each other.

The other wrestlers that were heel aligned wasted no time in giving Rock dirty looks cause of how close he was getting to you.

You would support and help him train as he wanted to be some Hulk Hogan-esque hero to the fans but it wasn’t working.

At first, he was in that stage of denial and wanting passive advice. The “it’ll get better” type deals because he felt if he kept trying, he could win them over. He was even given those talks by the other faces backstage.

As someone who was more “heel aligned”, you thought that was horse shit but you supported what he initially wanted.

It wasn’t until the “Die Rocky Die” chants and signs that you put your foot down.

“Tell them to go fuck themselves” you would say and he would ignore it. Trying to talk YOU down from going out there and cursing people out.

“I just have to run my own race and I’ll win them over.” He was so naive. The poor baby.

But you were determined. Becoming the little devil on his shoulder while the other baby faces kept trying to urge him to stay on the “right” path. The path of “perseverance”.

“Who cares what the fans think?”

“They don’t even know what they want. They’d rather cheer on dinosaurs than new blood”

“Stop lying down and waiting for them to respect you. TAKE their respect.”

At first, he would laugh at your persistence. “Girl, you are a bad influence on me.”

But then it started getting to him more and more, and with the Nation of Domination now urging him, he finally took matters into his own hands.

After the crowd watched him raise his fist alongside Farooq, it was no holds barred.

Now instead of being some fresh faced Romeo + Juliet type fling, you two went full on power couple.

Subtext became straight up text.

I said it before in my other headcanon but it bears repeating, with your styles, the both of you would end up matching CONSTANTLY.

Also vial of his blood? You can totally have it. Obviously, I gotta mention it.

While The Rock is not one to cheat, that was the service you offered any heel clients you valet’d for but it was a matter of trust. Trust that he can get the job done because he always could.

He’s finally out of his shell enough to let you take him to a goth club and boy does he fit in with the way he dances.

You have full control of the music when y’all are driving from place to place until one song that he just can’t stand and he takes your CD out. Not even huffing will make him budge.

He sings to you. He takes the songs you like and randomly sings them to you. He wants to dance with you. He’ll even try to sing them slowly for a slow dance. It becomes a battle to see how long you can go without laughing.

He sometimes goes to wrestlers like Edge & Christian (and sometimes Undertaker) for advice on gifts.

Mankind ADORES you.

While I wouldn’t recommend on WWE/WWF Wedding (name one time the ceremony succeeded), if y’all confident it’ll work for y’all and Mankind is gonna officiate. That or Dude Love (who happens to be great pals with Mankind).

Rocky does help you break some of your heel-ish habits. Despite it all, he encourages you not to be TOO underhanded. Not in a controlling way but in a “you can do better” way, y’know?

In general, this is a relationship that a lot of other folks think shouldn’t work but it works just fine for the both of you.

[aritamargarita]

GOLDEN || 001

ALL RISEEE!!!

it’s been two years. TWO YEARS. in the works. im cutting right to the chase

different superstars = more romance different opportunities. let’s get this bread. some of the events are kinda mashed up but im trying to make it in a way that’s just..fun?

this the “mycareer” saga istg. what’s next, 2014-2020 era?...maybe. regardless, if you’ve read my previous fic attitude you know what’s up. these installments aren’t set in the same like universe. so things won’t overlap and some things are set to change. im mushing most of the years all together. i will also kind of skip over some events and things at times but other than that, i hope you enjoy! kinda goin on my own flow. just know WE GOING TO THE SLAMMYS Y’ALL!!! GET YOUR FITS TOGETHER!!!!

FROM ECW TO THE WWF, you’re here to try and prove yourself. To make some sort of change. You’re different. A woman who is confident in her wrestling skills. It’s about time for you to truly shine.

BACKSTAGE // 7:01 PM

It’s so quiet.

You checked yourself in the mirror. Tonight was your night. It was hard getting through to the WWF in the first place. You’ve tried so hard, practicing and training for this very moment. Putting your best in a damn ring just so someone could scout you.

....It’s finally paid off!

Everything you’ve worked for, from the bottom of the barrel towards the tip top. You checked your face in the mirror, making sure everything was a-okay. Feeling confident enough, you gave a goofy smile (with two thumbs up!) to your reflection. You thought you looked amazing tonight, no one could tell you otherwise. No one could deter your spirit.

Despite your debut in the WWF being in a weird shift period, you thought you joined at its peak. Things seemed to be heating up, but you were just so excited to start a new journey.

Your beginning in wrestling itself was nothing short of an interesting one. You had been working in the most extreme company for at least two years now. ECW, to be specific.

Most would say the WWF ‘stole’ you from them. Others would say it was a smart business decision. This little ECW invasion wasn’t happening without certain superstars making their move into the company. The first time you’ve ever stepped into their arena was when Paul E. Dangerously and Jerry Lawler were going at it at the ring.

You captured the eyes of many, in the crowd and even backstage. It was incredibly obvious that WWF was keeping their eyes out for people who could possibly bring more attention. WCW was kicking their ass at this point, so what could they lose bringing in a couple of “misfits”?

Your experience at ECW wasn’t too bad at all, but you’ve taken way too many bumps to count so far. Now, you weren’t exactly afraid of getting hurt, but you always end up cursing yourself out for the pain you felt after the adrenaline was gone.

The stinging pain of a paper cut pales in comparison to being hit with a chair, on accident, mind you.

On a much lighter note, you’ve met so many amazing and odd people there. However, being a manager to interchangeable wrestlers got really tiring. Not only that, but being chanted at to take off your clothes was just another can of worms. Were there really that many low lives out there?? That or they never get any action at home. You were used to it at this point.

It got to a point where you debated no-showing. Someone just has to put you through a table. It’s always: “Oh, [Name]! I’m going to put you through a table!” or even “Oh, [Name]! I’m going to swing at you with this bat with barbed wire!”

Why do they wake up and choose violence? Actually, that was the gist of wrestling, but hey, ECW wasn’t called extreme for nothing!

To be honest, you were just frustrated because of the lack of activity you got while you were there.

People always considered it a “mans sport”, which irritated you to no end. Anyone could do it. Anyone could wrestle!

You’ve met Francine and Beulah who were also fierce managers like you, but you’ve also came across Sunny at one point. She was with the WWF, and as a matter of fact, she may even be here tonight. Her visiting the promotion seemed to be a brief stint.

After all, she only had a few appearances here and there. At times she would be nice, then suddenly act like you didn’t exist. You’d ask her about her experience in the WWF and she never gave you a straight answer.

It was weird and it rubbed you the wrong way. But she was acting that way because she came from an entirely different company? You didn’t know. Makes you wonder if all superstars here were like that.

Anywho, everything seemed to be right on your end. You stood up and turned around in the mirror, doing a slow 360.

Suddenly, the door slams open, startling you.

“That bitch! What am I going to do!?” A woman donning leather clothing was absolutely seething, walking around hastily.

Did she even know you were there?

This was quite the awkward encounter. The tone in her voice indicated that she was absolutely pissed.

You moved out of her way so that she could reach for a whip that was located on the side of the vanity. This woman looked familiar, so it couldn’t hurt to ask who she was. “Hey, do I know you? Or maybe have seen you around? I’m new.” You went straight for the kill and she turns to you slowly.

Did you set yourself up to be in her path of rage?

She wasn’t offended that you didn’t know her, just a little surprised. “You do look like a new face.” She quipped, putting her hand on her hip. She seemed to analyze you for a moment. “But I’m sure you don’t know me.” She reached out her hand for you to shake. “I’ll give you the honor. It’s Sable, if you have to know.”

“[Name],” You introduce, taking her hand and shaking it. “It’s nice to meet you, Sable. I hope we can be friends.”

Sable lets go of you at the mention of friendship and scoffs. You were seriously here to be buddy-buddy with people? “Friends?” She smirks as she waved her hand and saunters over to a bag that was in a cubby. “Right, friends…”

This Sable woman seemed nice! But you couldn’t help but to notice the catty tone in her voice. Oh well. Not really your problem. Or is it?

You had no malicious intention towards her and you damn sure hope she had none toward you. Watching as she packs a couple of her things, you finally open your mouth. “Hey. Why were you mad any….?” Before you could ask your question, she quickly leaves the room, slamming the door shut.

“….Nevermind. Alright then, bye Sable.”

That whole experience was weird.

You probably should step outside too, get to know some more of your co-workers. You step out of the women’s locker room, heading right down the hall. You were pretty sure the show was going on, so when it came to meeting new people, you’ll take what you could get.

“Excuse me, miss?”

A croaky voice had made you stop immediately. Turning on your heel, you saw a haggard-looking man with a mask on his face, holding up his hand which seemed to be covered with a sock.

“I’ve never seen you around here.” He says, turning his head towards the sock. “Have you, Mr. Socko?”

He then makes his voice a little higher pitched to respond: “Nope! Who is this lady?”

You…

Yeah, you don’t really know what to say at all. You just look at him in bewilderment. He seems to notice how confused you looked and makes a noise. “Oh. I’m sorry, I forgot we had to introduce ourselves…I’m Mankind. And this is Mr. Socko. We’re best friends.”

Mankind makes Mr. Socko nod, and you could only wave.

“Hi.” You greet. ECW had its weird characters, but you’ve never seen something like this. “I’m definitely new! My name is [Name].” You reach out your hand for him so he can shake it. “Wouldn’t uh, wanna smother your best friend.”

He takes it using his free hand and shakes it firmly. “You’re very considerate, [Name]. But I can say for Mr. Socko that he wouldn’t mind being smothered by you, it makes us feel tingly all over.”

Do they have a psychologist here??? Something?? This guy’s one hell of a character.

“Hahah. Right. Riiightt.” You say, a strained smile on your face.

“I live in the boiler room.” He randomly adds. “And George likes friends. You should visit. Nothing leaks anymore!”

“George?” You repeat in confusion. “Who’s that?”

“My pet rat!” Mankind exclaimed, making you wince slightly. “Mr. Socko and I spend time with him a lot. He’s very nice…”

You nod slowly. Mental note, try to stay away as far as possible from this “Mankind”, in the future. He scares the hell out of you. “Pet rat, huh? That’s nice! I’d love to stay and chat, but unfortunately, I left my stove running and it’s gas. Everything will explode. I’ll lose everything I love. And to top it all off, I left both my sink and bathtub running. So not only will I lose everything, I’ll be flooded out my own home.”

“I see…” Mankind seemed to believe your extravagant lie, giving a nod. “Wouldn’t want that to happen.” He rasps out. Lifting Mr. Socko up, which you still couldn’t believe it was a literal fucking sock, seemed to have some words for you too.

“Have a nice day!”

After that very strange encounter, you find yourself staring at the match card for the day.

HUNTER HEARST HELMSLEY VS. GOLDUST

AHMED JOHNSON VS. OWEN HART

BRET HART VS. KEN SHAMROCK

BILLY GUNN & ROAD DOGG VS. THE NEW BLACKJACKS

MARC MERO VS. FLASH FUNK

THE LEGION OF DOOM VS. LOS BORICUAS

Great. Very good. Very nice.

Problem is, you didn’t even know who half of these people were. The only person you knew was Sable, who not only was a valet for this Marc Mero guy, but she also had a segment.

It was something about a possible magazine cover. No wonder why she seemed a bit familiar.

You weren’t really expecting yourself to be on Yhe card, but it still was a bit of a disappointment. What’s the fun in standing around backstage if you couldn’t even go outside in the ring and have fun?!

Hell, you’d be pleased even if it was some sort of small ringside fight!

Letting out a sigh, you stretch your arms. Today was going to be a long day.

“You’re [Name], correct?”

Someone else? Oh boy. Who’s next? You hope it’s not another weirdo. Or someone who could be incredibly rude towards you. Looking over, you’re immediately startled to see the owner of the company. “Holy—“

You bite your tongue, taking a deep breath. He scared the hell out of you. Though you were caught off guard, you tried your best to get it together. Automatically, you had begun thinking you did something wrong.

“Good afternoon.” Vince greets.

“Good afternoon.” You greet back, setting a hand on the wall. Cool, calm, and collected. Just act like it’s not bothering you as much. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

He cleared his throat and shook his head at your question. “No, no.” He mutters. You thought the room had gotten colder before he continued. “Do you have any experience in wrestling?”

Already, you inwardly cheer. That must mean that you were getting somewhere. Maybe they did their research before hiring you. “Yeah. And I’m pretty good at it, I’d say. I know the basics, but I’m ready to learn more.”

He nods, but he doesn’t look impressed. You really couldn’t gauge how he felt. “How interested would you be in working on a storyline?“ He asks. “On a scale of one to ten.”

“Probably eight.”

“We’re thinking of giving you..a purpose.” He says. “You have no gimmick, just a fresh face. The creative team will get back to you later.”

That was definitely a blunt way to put it. All you can really do is nod your head.

He outstretched his hand and you hesitate to reach your own out to shake his. Deal is sealed.

“Are you going to make me wrestle?”

Your question makes him raise an eyebrow. “Wrestle? Well, we don’t have many woman competitors.” And you figured as much. “We’ll see what we can do. You’ll be a valet at best.”

Fantastic.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, a certain group was listening to your conversation nearby.

“Think she’s gonna last here?” A man asks, looking at both his partners. “She’s got some guts, if you ask me, just asking Vinny Mac to put her in a ring.”

The woman crossed her arms, waiting to hear what the two had to say first. The other man shook his head, clicking his tongue.

“You heard what Vince said, Shawn. That chick’s just going to be another valet. Your thoughts, Chyna?”

“....” She stayed silent at first. “It’s not any of my business and it isn’t any of ours.” She simply says. “Let’s get going already.”

“You guys can go,” Shawn says, leaning on the wall. “I’m gonna lay down the law with her.”

“Keep it in your pants for once.” Chyna rolls her eyes. “You can’t flirt with everything that—“ She doesn’t get to even finish her sentence before Shawn saunters off towards you.

Before you could ask Vince another question, a new voice enters into the fray. “Vinny Mac! And who’s this lovely lady you’ve got with you? Never seen her around before.”

“Shawn.” Vince greeted him only by saying his name, giving a curt nod. He doesn’t answer his question about you. “Come to bother me again?”

“Of course not, old pal! Just wanted to see what’s new in the neighborhood.” This Shawn guy, who the hell was he? He looks you up and down for a moment. “Not bad, not bad. Where’d you pop up from?”

“ECW.” You respond. He was starting to make you a little nervous, so you fold your hands behind your back. “I’m very new.”

“Has anyone showed you around yet?” He asks, lightly setting a hand on your shoulder. “Why don’t I do the honors?”

Of course, you couldn’t refuse.

[sleepy-achilles]

Can I get a steamy hbktaker where it’s Dracula esqe and he’s like “I’ve crossed many lifetimes to find you again..”?

Hbtaker- A Tale as Old as Time.

Yes this was the ask I've nonstop gone on about. I'm sorry anon it took so long, I hope you like it. It also lacks physical lifetimes but yk it's technically lifetimes.

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

The Undertaker was a man filled with grief and anger. The man he loved more than anything was ripped out of his hands and killed.

Taker remembers that day as clear as glass. It's the day he became the monster he is. The monster that lives off blood. The monster that lurks in children's fairytales.

But he did it for a reason. He did it to one day, hopefully, reconnect with his love.

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

Taker was growing tired. It had been centuries and he hasn't found him. He was tired, but he wasn't giving up.

As he sits in the bar he sees the tv showing some wrestling show. He wasn't normally into sports but the names the announcers were throwing out sounded too good to be true. "Sean Michaels is a new face around here. Working amazingly might I add." He states. Takers eyes widen in disbelief as Shawn, his Shawn, his baby, his love, appears on the screen. Taker swallows as a sudden wave of sadness and relief hits him at the same time. He now knows what he has to do. He doesn't care how long it'll take him, he has to do it.

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

Shawn frowns to himself as he walks down the halls of the WWF building. Making friends here was a lot tougher than he thought it'd be. But, vince had him working the first episode of Monday night raw so he had to focus. He's so lost in his head he completely walks past the tall man.

Taker can't bring himself to speak. He's finally in the same air way as his lover and he can't bring himself to move. He stares as shawn walks past, muttering to himself. He looks as beautiful as the day he lost him. Taker has waited for this moment. And taker has blown it.

Takers cheeks heat as shawn disappears around the corner. "Fuck" he hisses hitting his own head. "Next time. Next time" he tells himself.

----

Next time does not happen.

A sudden fear falls over him anytime the blonde walks past. And then Paul joins him and he kisses goodbye to any shot he did have.

----

"So that's him huh?" Paul asks watching as shawn tries to grab something off Kevin. Taker just nods. "I don't get the big deal. He's just some blondie. Plenty of the-" Paul is cut off by a hand around his throat and his back hitting the wall. Paul's eyes widen in fear as takers white eyes stare back at him.

"Never, ever talk about him again" Taker growls.

Shawn pauses and looks over at the undertaker. His heart races as the sudden feeling of deja vu washes over him.

"That loud mouth f-" Paul gets cut off by being slammed against the wall. "Never, ever! Talk about him like that again!" Takers bark echoing around the Manor Hall. Shawn stares at his lover with wide eyes. "Takes? Taker! Let him go! Please" Shawn gasps. Taker turns to him, his eyes immediately softening.

"Shawn?"

"Shawn!"

Shawn jerks away from Kevin. "Takes! Let him go man" Shawn calls. Takers whole body tenses. Takes. Its been too long since that name left those lips. He drops his hand, letting it awkwardly hit his side. Everyone else stares in shock, the undertaker actually listened to shawn? Paul glances at shawn. Huh...maybe he is more than a blonde.

Taker doesn't say anything, he just leaves. Shawn feels bad. He also fears what the big man might do to him. "Takes?" Kevin teases. Shawn scoffs and hits his arm. "Shut it. Give me my hat" Shawn frowns turning to him.

Shawn couldn't focus. What was that? Was it a memory? His grandma always told him stories about how everyone was born twice. But that doesn't explain both Paul and taker being there. It looked old. They looked old. It was almost...medieval. Shawn frowns and knows he'll have to ask the deadman. That's if the man will let him near.

------

Shawn figures him and taker are cool. Taker keeps coming to his rescue, they have to be on good terms.

Shawn looks down at his hands and takes a deep breath before going to knock the deadmans door. He jerks back as the door swings open. Taker stops dead in his tracks. "Wait! Please don't run away!" Shawn spits out. Taker stares at him. "Why would I run?" Taker asks. "Everytime i even end up being alone with you, you disappear on me" shawn states. Taker just stares at him. He's not wrong. "I um..I wanted to ask you about something" Shawn starts. He pauses as he spots Paul lurking. Taker glances back before back at shawn. "Um..maybe nows not a good time.." Shawn whispers. Taker smirks and tilts his head down. Shawns heart skips a beat. "Now who's running?" He asks in a deep voice.

Shawn gasps.

"Now who's running?" Taker teases. "Its stupid!" Shawn groans hiding his face in his hands. Taker chuckles and grabs shawns hips. "Ill be back after the war and I'll prove its not stupid" Taker whispers, kissing shawns neck gently. Shawn let's out a breathless chuckle. "Oh yeah, a whole wartime with Paul. I can't wait..." Shawn sighs. "I'd feel less comfortable knowing you were out there fighting" Taker hums pulling away. "Goodthing my title keeps me here than" Shawn teases turning towards him. Taker just smiles. "Yeah.."

"No" Shawn gasps. "What? Are you okay?" Taker asks, his hands closed around shawns arms keeping him steady. "I keep having these deja vu moments...but I never experienced them" Shawn tells him. Taker can't help but smile. It is him. It's his Shawn. "I..I just wanted to know if you were also having them?" Shawn asks. "Im not" Taker answers. Shawn feels embarrassed but he doesn't know if it's because taker is still holding him or the fact shawns being crazy. "But sh-" "taker! Cmon!" Paul barks. Shawn jerks back. "Sorry for disturbing you" shawn apologises before running off. "No! Shawn!" Taker calls. He watches in pain as shawn runs off.

He gives Paul the dirtiest glare he can.

----

"So you've got a crush on the undertaker?" Kevin asks as he reads the newspaper. "What? No! Where did you get that idea from?" Shawn stops his pacing. "Having dreams about him? In which you are very loving together? Oh yeah that's clearly not a crush situation" Kevin scoffs. "Yeah he's attractive but..its not like that kev. They aren't dreams" Shawn sighs. Kevin hums. "You seen some sicko running around pretending to be a vampire?" Kevin asks turning the paper around. Shawn moves closer and reads. "Aren't they all the cities we've visited lately?" Shawn asks. Kevin lowers the paper, being face to face with shawn as his smirk grows. "Maybe the undertaker is a vampire" Kevin teases. Shawn tuts and hits the bigger man's chest. "That isn't funny" Shawn frowns.

"No?" Kevin asks raising an eyebrow. "I think it makes perfect sense. He is the deadman" Kevin states. "Oh yeah because they'll have a real vampire play a deadman? Cmon kev! I thought you were smarter than that!" Shawn scoffs.

--meanwhile...--

Taker can't stop himself. Ever since he's been reunited with shawn his hunger has been back and stronger than ever. He whispers apologises in his head as he drinks too much blood from the unsuspecting victims pale neck. He can't stop.

For once in Takers life, he's scared of himself.

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

Taker? A vampire? No.

Kevin was just being cruel.

Shawn glances at the man in question.

He can understand Kevin's point. The man is pale, clearly hasn't slept in a few years and shawn swears he lives in the shadows. "He is hot" a voice whispers. Shawn jumps and turns to see goldust. Ah, goldust. Now he wouldn't be shocked to find out goldust was a vampire. "Who?" Shawn asks. "Undertaker. You telling me you wouldn't jump his bones?" Goldust asks molding his way around shawns body. Shawn tenses as goldust makes him face taker.

"I imagine it'll be a real good time" goldust purs in his ear. "I thought you'd know?" Shawn asks quietly. Goldust tilts his head at the blonde. "Oh no baby, he doesn't want a gal like me. He wants a gal like you" goldust smirks. Shawns cheeks heat. "Stop it" he mutters. "Oh does the boy toy have a little crush on the deadman?" Goldust teases. "What is it with everyone lately?" Shawn huffs pulling away from him. Shawn gasps as his body slams into someone. His eyes widen.

"Wow pretty boy, you should be more careful" Taker chuckles, hands planted firmly on shawns hips. "Well, if someone would lend me a hand, I wouldn't be struggling." Shawn huffs, adjusting his grip on the books. "Well I don't know why you need to move so many at one time" Taker huffs lifting some of the books off Shawn. "Because it needs to get done and if you could have your way, it wouldn't get done" Shawn tells him with a teasing tone. "You know it baby" Taker chuckles.

"Shawn!" Goldust snaps. Shawn jerks forward, a hand still supporting his back. He looks to see that hand attached to taker. "Sorry, sorry" Shawn whispers moving away, covering his face. "Its alright. I wanted to talk to you yesterday but you ran away before I could" Taker states. Goldust raises an eyebrow. "Im sorry?" Shawn mutters lowering his hands. Taker glances around. "I was wondering if you could meet me later. So we could talk?" Taker asks. "Oh. Sure, after the show?" Shawn asks. "Um I need to do something so I'll just pop by your hotel room" Taker states. "Of course." Shawn nods. "Great, perfect" Taker mumbles and rushes away. "Wow..look at that, he does like a gal like you" goldust teases. Shawn huffs and pushes the man away.

------

Shawn riffles through his bag as he walks towards his hotel. He swears Kevin put their hotel room key in his bag somewhere. They normally go together but Kevin had a meeting and well Shawn wanted to get ready to meet taker.

Shawn pauses by an alleyway at a muffled noise. He looks towards it. "Oh not me.." Shawn whispers, clutches the strap of his bag tightly.

"You find it strange that theyve all been attacked by our hotels?" Kevin asks resting the newspaper on the bench. "Its just a coincidence" Shawn huffs pushing the mans hands off his hip. "Keep telling yourself that" Kevin smirks leaning back.

Shawn frowns. Of course Kevin is right. Of course shawns about to get himself killed. Shawn, thinking he's about to save someone, walks towards the noise. He stands in the middle of the alleyway, frozen in fear. He owed Kevin 20 bucks.

"Oh..." Shawn gasps.

Takers head snaps up. His eyes are all white, blood staining his mouth. His eyes quickly turn back, his senses kick back in. "Shawn?" Taker asks, his mind still fuzzy. He looks down at the body in his hands and freezes. "Oh god" Shawn gasps.

Shawn begins backing up. "Shawn, wait!" Taker gasps standing up. "D-dont!" Shawn stutters.

Shawn turns to go and run only to run straight into a chest. "No!" Shawn yelps as Taker grabs his arms. "Ple-please let me speak-" taker tries. "L-let me go! Don't hurt me please!" Shawn cries. "I would never" Shawn stops at his sudden tone. Its serious. Firm. Promising. Shawn stares at him. "Just please...please listen to me" Taker whispers. "W-will she be okay?" Shawn whispers. Taker looks back. "They all consented to it Shawn. That's why they are all alive. She'll be okay. She won't remember but she'll be okay." Taker promises. "Okay?" Taker asks. Shawn nods and looks back at taker.

"I need you to listen to me Shawn. Please." Taker tells him. "Its about your...'dreams'" Taker states. Shawn perks up slightly. "They aren't dreams" Taker tells him. "Then what are they?" Shawn asks. "Cmon. We can't talk here, she'll wake soon" Taker mutters. Shawn pauses as Taker let's him go. "Why should I go alone with you after seeing that?" Shawn asks, slightly relieved when he sees the girl shift. "Because when I said I won't hurt you. I meant it." Taker tells him. And shawn? Shawn believes him. Something in his heart screams at him to go with him. So, Shawn does.

He follows Taker to his hotel room. He allows Taker to lock the door as he sits on the edge of the bed. He keeps his eyes locked with takers as Taker stands infront of him.

"I've been searching for you...for so long.." Taker whispers cupping his face. "W-what?" Shawn asks quietly. "They are memories. Snippets of a life we used to live" Taker tells him, slowly kneeling infront of him. Shawn watches his every move. "That..it..it doesn't make sense" Shawn splutters. "I know..-" "Why were you drinking that girls blood? Why am I having these memories? Why is my heart so attracted to you?" Shawn rambles.

Takers eyes light up at the last one. "Attracted?" Taker asks quietly. Shawns face heats slightly. "I asked the questions, you answer them!" He frowns. "Right..sorry." Taker huffs. "I can answer all of them. We met many lifetimes ago. Years and years ago. Centuries ago. Decades ago. You were ripped from my hands...taken from me. I thought my life was over, my heart was broken, my life didn't feel worth living. When Paul told me. He promised me that everyone was born twice. So I took the risk, allowed myself to be turned into a thing of nightmares..kids myths and legends. A-" "a vampire?" Shawn cuts in. Taker looks at him. "Well yes-" "Why didn't you just say that?" Shawn asks. "Will you let me finish?" Taker snaps. "Yes. Sorry" Shawn mutters.

"I have been searching for you, ever since. I've traveled far and wide. Seen how cities and towns have advanced. How the world has grown. I've grown tired...but I never gave up" Taker continues. Shawn heart races. Someone loved a version of him that much they gave it all up for him? In hopes they'd meet again? His mother would gush and tell him how she was right if she could see him right now. "And one day, I managed to catch one of your awa shows and I knew what I had to do. I had to sign up, I had to get to you somehow." Taker explains. He watches as shawns face twists with confusion. "And yes, we finally were in the same building and..well I got choked up. I-I couldn't believe it was actually you. It is you. Shawn Michaels. My long lost love. Paul isn't a complete liar." Taker chuckles looking at shawn.

"If it wasn't for the fact I've seen our life together...that I've seen you...feeding...I'd laugh right now" Shawn admits. "Im sorry about that...its not normal." Taker apologises. "What do you mean? Don't vampires feed?" Shawn asks. "Well yes. But I can go without human blood for a long time but ever since I reconnected with you, I've been so damn thirsty." Taker sighs.

Shawn couldn't lie. He has been attracted to the man. There was something about him that drew Shawn to him. And still, after seeing him like that, hearing the truth. He's still so attracted to him.

Taker is taken by surprise as shawn jolts forward, kissing him. Taker was fully prepared for shawn to tell him to fuck off. He was not prepared for this. But then again, his shawn would do the samething.

Takers hands squeeze shawns hips as shawn holds his face in a dangerously tight.

Something in shawn feels complete as he tilts takers head back to deepen the kiss. It's like some unknown hunger is being fulfilled. As if his soul knows takers, as if his soul has missed takers. And it just makes Shawn believe taker more.

God his mother would find it sweet but his father would find it pathetic and an act of desperation.

Shawn slips his tongue into takers mouth and instantly catch his tongue on the sharp fang. He jerks back. "Sorry" he muffles out as he covers his mouth. "For what? I caught you" Taker chuckles. The look in takers green eyes make him blush. "I..well yeah but I just..you know? Kissed you without-" "Shawn it's okay. You've been through a lot today. You should get some sleep anyway" Taker states. Shawns eyes widen. "You want me to leave?" Shawn asks quietly.

Taker is startled by the hurt in his voice. "W-what? No! I just thought you might want to go back to your room. Think things over. Process everything." Taker tells him. "I've processed it. Mama always said everyone's born twice. Grandma always said she thought I was on my second life. The dreams being memories. You being a vampire. The feeling I just had when we kissed. It was like our souls knew each other, like our souls have been reunited. It wa-" Shawn is cut off by Taker pushing up and kissing him. "I love you. I missed you so damn much" Taker growls before kissing Shawn again. Shawn allows his eyes to fall shut as his back hits the mattress.

"Ill never let any harm come to you. Never again." Taker promises as he moves his kisses down shawns neck. Shawn let's out a sharp gasp before locking his hands in takers hair. "No one will take you from me. I won't allow them" Taker growls. And shawn? Shawn feels like he should be scared, concerned, but he's not. His mind is filled of lust and his heart is filled of love and joy. His past life believes the promise. And that's all Shawn needs.

Takers hands work up shawns shirt as his mouth works on shawns neck. Shawn relaxes perfectly under his hands. "Talk to me Shawn....tell me how you feel" Taker murmurs. Shawn glances at him with hazey eyes. "I need you. My soul needs you. I..I.. " Shawn huffs and tilts his head back.

Taker moves straddling his hips. "Cmon baby...finish" Taker smirks, leaning down and letting his fangs catch over shawns neck. Shawn jerks and gasps at the feeling.

"I-i love you"

"Mm I love you" Taker lifts his head, hands rested on shawns thighs. The beautiful blonde is practically vibrating where he's laid across the bed. His shaking thighs either side of takers face. "Yeah?" Taker smirks. Shawn lifts his gaze. "Always" Shawn smiles running his hand through takers sweat slicked hair. Taker keeps his eyes locked with shawns as he kisses shawns thighs. "Every lifetime. We'll always be together. I'll always love you." Shawn whispers. This tugs at takers heart. Taker gently places shawns legs on the bed before moving up. He kisses Shawn softly. He pulls back and brushes shawns hair back before speaking.

"I love you Shawn."

"I love you Shawn, so damn much"

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

NOTES

I'm so sorry if this isn't steamy or what you wanted. I will admit I spent four days on this. One of those days involved alcohol. Not gonna lie. I really like the opening and the ending. The rest of it feels...rushed..which I apologise.

I do kinda wanna do a part two to this. So if people enjoy I will try. (I promise it'll be better)

And yes I didn't want to give Shawn some weird deja vu magic thing but I needed to make sure the whole, this is takers Shawn, was yk, confirmed and well true.

Enjoy :)

[blowflyfag]

Pro Wrestling Illustrated: May 1995

PRESS CONFERENCE… RANDY SAVAGE

Every Issue, reporters from PRO WRESTLING ILLUSTRATED will Participate in an incisive press conference with a top wrestling star. The questions will be demanding. And the answers will reveal the innermost thoughts of the giants of the sport. 

[There was plenty of drama at Starrcade after HUlk Hogan and Randy Savage cleared the ring of the Three Faces of Fear. Hogan offered his hand and the “Macho Man” was happy to shake it. ]

The relationship between Randy Savage and Hulk Hogan is one of the most fascinating of recent times. They have gone from being arch-rivals in the mid-1980s, to tag team partners in 1988, when Savage held the WWF World belt. But by 1989, they were enemies involved in a feud centering around Elizabeth, Savage’s manager and future wife. From all appearances, that feud was never settled, although Hogan beat Savage for the World title at WrestleMania V.

Savage vs. Hogan. Hogan vs. Savage. In February 1989, Savage slapped Elizabeth and attacked Hogan. But by 1993, we were seeing a kinder, gentler Savage. He was working primarily as a color commentator on WWF broadcasts; the “Macho Man” generally condemned rulebreakers and applauded fan favorites.

Nonetheless,the history of Hogan-Savage made wrestling fans sit up and take notice when, in November 1994, Savage announced that he was leaving the WWF and coming to WCW. He left several questions unanswered, including this delectable one; WOuld he join Hogan, or challenge him?

Savage promised to answer the question at Starrcade ‘94. “I’ll either shake his hand or slap his face,” he said. In the weeks leading up to starrcade, Kevin Sullivan even hinted that Savage had signed with the Three Faces of Fear.

Starrcade ‘94 finally arrived and Hogan defeated Brutus Beefcake, another former friend. Sullivan and Avalanche then stormed the ring for a three-way attack on Hogan. Then Savage made his grand entrance. He cleared the ring and thrilled the crowd by shaking Hogan’s hand. It was a marvelous moment. 

The new Hogan-Savage alliance was the sole subject when Senior Editor Bill Apter traveled to Atlanta with Senior Writers Eddie Ellner and Dave Rosenbaum to interview Savage. They could have talked all night.

BILL APTER: “Macho,” judging by what happened at Starrcade, it looked like you didn’t make your decision regarding Hulk Hogan until the last second. Is that true?

RANDY SAVAGE: Maybe it looked that way, Bill Apter, but that’s not the way it was. No way, that’s not the way it is. No way, that’s not the way it was. Sure, I had some choices to make, and they were some tough choices, but even if I went against Hulk Hogan, I wasn’t going to do it alongside the Three Faces of Fear.

EDDIE ELLNER: But I thought you had an agreement with Kevin sullivan. 

SAVAGE: Wrong again, Eddie Ellner. Kevin Sullivan thought he had an agreement with me, but there was never any agreement, never anything I said to convince him that I was going to be on his side for one second. I don’t know where he ever got the idea, but it worked in my favor. 

DAVE ROSENBAUM: Well, where do you think he got the idea? Let’s face it, he was pretty convinced that the fourth Face of Fear had been signed already.

SAVAGE: There was never any signing on the dotted line, Dave Rosenbaum, never any handshake or discussion of contract. LEt me tell you how it went, if I may.

APTER: You certainly may.

ELLNER: I’m looking forward to hearing this, just to see how it matches up with what Kevin Sullivan told me. 

SAVAGE: You talked to Sullivan? ELLNER: That’s right.

SAVAGE: And what did that demented individual tell you?ELLNER: That’s for me to know. Let’s hear your side of the story. 

SAVAGE: He came up to me and said, “Machi, I hear you’re in WCW now. Well, there’s another man in WCW who you might be interested in. AN old friend, so to speak. Someone you once had an ax to grind with.” And I said, “Who might that be?” and he answered, “Hulk Hogan.” 

ROSENBAUM: Which, of course, you already knew. 

SAVAGE: Ooooooh-yeah, I knew it, but I didn’t want to give anything away.

ELLNER: Strike one. Sullivan told me you came to him and said, “There’s a man I want and his name is Hulk Hogan.”

SAVAGE: That’s right, that’s what I said later, but what I said and what he thought I meant were two different things.

APTER: So you were setting up the Three Faces of Fear. 

SAVAGE: Maybe, and then again, maybe not. Let me finish my story first, Bill, and you’ll see it a lot clearer, a whole lot clearer, because this is the way it went and what Kevin Sullivan heard and thought is another matter. So he said to me, “You have a bone to pick with Hulk Hogan. He did you wrong a few years ago, just like he’s done everybody else wrong, and this is your chance to get even. Don’t you want to get even?” And I said to him, “When a man does me wrong, I want to get even.”

ROSENBAUM: I can see where Sullivan might have misunderstood you. You did have a score to settle with Hogan and I can see where Sullivan thought that you would want to get even.

SAVAGE: Dave Rosenbaum, hear me once because I’m never going to say it again: Me and Hulk Hogan had our little run-in a bunch of years ago, but that doesn’t matter anymore. We settled our differences a long time ago and now it’s time to go on to something else. Besides, the thing that tore us apart is no longer a factor, and I think any wrestling historian, which all three of you men claim to be, would agree that we were better together than apart.

[When Savage first hit the ring, he made it look like he was joining the Three Faces of Fear. He says he planned to join Hogan all along, but deceived Kevin Sullivan into thinking he would be entering WCW as a rulebreaker.]

ELLNER: I wouldn’t agree with that. Hogan brought you down, and when you broke up, he beat you for the WWF World title.

SAVAGE: SummerSlam 1988. Hulk Hogan and Randy Savage. Ted DiBiase and Andre the Giant. Who beat who?

APTER: Good point, Randy, but you won another title after that. Don’t you want a shot at the WCW World title?

SAVAGE: Sure, Bill, I’d like to win the WCW World title, but what’s right is right and a man has to do what a man has to do. 

ELLNER: What in the world does that mean? It sounds to me like your only choice was to go after Hogan and the title right away. Why wait? SAVAGE: Because a man has to do what’s right. I’ve changed my ways a little, Eddie Ellner, and I’m not the man I used to be. I finally got it to the point where people could say, “There’s Randy Savage. You can trust that man.”People used to think of me as a wild, out -of-control maniac, and that’s not the image I want to project. WHat’s right is right and I had to do what’s right.

ELLNER: Sullivan told me that you told him that you were going to be there at Starrcade.

SAVAGE: Wasn't I?

ELLNER: And that you were going to be there for him.

SAVAGE: I think me and the Three Faces of Fear crossed paths, don't you?

[Savage and Hogan were partners at SummerSlam ‘88, when they reputed Ted DiBiase and Andre the Giant (Opposite page), but fell out soon thereafter. The “Hulkster” then beat Savage for the WWF World title in 1989 (above). THe “Macho Man” says the good times with Hogan far outweigh the bad.]

ELLNER: Let’s face it, Savage, this was a well-calculated ruse on your part.

SAVAGE: Maybe so, but they were the ones attacking Hulk Hogan every chance they got. Ever since he got to WCW, it’s been one enemy after another, attacking him from behind, putting on masks, trying to get him with chairs and steel pipes. Doesn't’ anybody play by the rules around here?

APTER: Interesting point …

ROSENBAUM: No it’s not. The real Randy Savage never played by the rules. Even when he was a fan favorite, he was never a flat out good guy. He’d always get around one rule or cut the corners on another and you always knew he was dangerous. Try this question on for size Randy: What do you have to gain by being on Hogan’s side?

SAVAGE: I have a better question: What do I have to lose? Maybe I don't want to be a full-time wrestler. Maybe there are little things I want to do or have to do, here and there, and they take first priority. Maybe I’m just waiting.

APTER: Waiting for what?

SAVAGE: Waiting for the “Hulkster” to pass the torch once again. When he leaves, somebody’s going to have to carry the fire for him. 

ELLINER: I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

APTER: How about Sting?

SAVAGE: Sting is fine. Now the “Hulkster” Has a choice, and he also has somebody watching his back, just like he once did for me sometime ago.

ROSENBAUM: Are you telling me this goes back to WrestleMania IV, when Hogan helped you win the WWF World title? SAVAGE: All things add up. He owes me and I owe him. Put us together and that makes us a pretty good team.

ELLNER: WE’ll see about that.

SAVAGE: Oh yes, we will. Ooooooh-yeah!

[glorious-spoon]

Calamity’s Child [Stranger Things; Steve/Eddie]

Rating: Teen Wordcount: ~3600

ON AO3

It’s 10:15 on a Sunday morning, and Steve is on Eddie Munson’s couch.

More specifically: Steve is on Eddie Munson’s couch, in his boxer shorts and a shirt that's clearly been slept in, eating dry cereal out of the box and blinking slowly at the TV, which is currently playing WWF. His hair is more of a mess than Dustin has ever seen it outside of literal fights to the death. Eddie himself is nowhere to be seen.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Dustin demands, dropping his backpack just inside the door.

“Good morning to you too,” Steve mumbles. He pours another handful of Cocoa Puffs into his mouth, blinks a few more times, then looks over again like he’s just actually registered Dustin’s presence. Steve is not a morning person; Dustin is very aware of this fact from the times he’s had to catch a ride to school with him. He’s taken to making Steve coffee on those days—instant, which Steve complains about, but his mom doesn’t drink it and Dustin doesn’t need anything to stunt his growth any more—out of sheer self-preservation after he almost dozed off at a stop sign one time.

So yeah, the yawning, the general dazedness: not that weird. The fact that Steve is hanging out on Eddie’s couch in his boxers, eating Eddie’s food like he owns the place: extremely weird.

“I reiterate: what are you doing? Does Eddie even know you’re here?”

“No, I just broke in to eat his cereal,” Steve says. “What do you think, dickhead?”

It’s at that point that Dustin registers the glass pipe on the coffee table next to a battered lighter and a stack of cassettes. The one on top is Chicago, which definitely does not belong to Eddie. It could be his uncle’s, but the simplest explanation is that Steve brought it here to listen to, and Eddie inexplicably did not throw it or him out a window. And also: the blackened residue in that pipe is definitely not tobacco. A skunky odor lingers in the worn couch cushions and on Steve’s clothes when he shifts.

“Have you two been smoking pot?”

“Okay, Nancy Reagan,” Steve says, which is possibly the most insulting thing anyone has said to Dustin, ever. And there are a lot of options to choose from there. He swells with outrage, but before he can give it voice, there's a thump and some muffled cursing on the far side of the trailer. A door creaks open and Eddie emerges from the hallway, squinting in the morning light. He, at least, is wearing pants.

“I thought I heard Henderson’s dulcet tones,” he says, muffling a yawn into his shoulder. “What are you doing here, dude? You’re gonna get mugged in this neighborhood.”

“On a Sunday morning?”

“Crime waits for no man,” Eddie intones, and yawns again.

“I left my Bio textbook backstage and I thought maybe it ended up with your stuff. Mike and Lucas haven’t seen it. Why is Steve in your living room?” Dustin asks, flinging a hand in Steve’s direction.

Continue on AO3

[nantes5]

Always💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

Shawn knew he had messed up, knew he would have to make amends. But what he didn't expect was an irate Kay, banging on his door, forcing him to confront the feelings he had been so desperately trying to hide.

This is technically the middle of a much longer story that has been ruminating around my mind for a very long time. However, finally bringing myself to begin to write it out, it was this scene that I felt compelled to write first!

For context, this is set sometime around 1996/97. The roster at WWF/E is roughly what it was then. Kay has a family background in wrestling, and worked for a long time as a talent scout, before coming to work for Vince as an agent. She has spent the last six months working mainly with the Kliq, assigned to try and keep them in some sort of order. She has always maintained a strict rule against dating wrestlers, hence her reluctance to admit any feelings for Shawn.

                              💔 💔 💔 💔 💔 💔 💔 

Feeling the frustration coursing through her body, she stormed down the corridor, looking for room 405. Arriving, she thumped on the door.

“Shawn, are you in there? Open this damn door you arse. SHAWN!”

“What the fuck?”

The door opened to reveal a pissed off looking Shawn, hair dripping from the shower, a towel loosely thrown around his waist. Kay pushed past him, barely registering his nearly naked state, so determined to ball him out over his behaviour in the ring.

“Please, do come in.”

“Don’t be a dick, Shawn.”

With Kay now stood in the middle of his room, hands on hips, eyes blazing with a mix of anger and disappointment, Shawn took a second to absorb just how truly beautiful she was. Shaking his head to rid himself of thoughts and dreams that he knew could never be more than that, he closed the door behind him, lest the rest of the roster question why he was standing naked with only a towel covering what semblance of dignity he may still have left, with what was effectively his boss, in his hotel room. One set of judgement was enough for today.

“I’m not being a dick, at least I’m not trying to be,” he sighed.

“For once.”

“That aside, I’m just a bit confused why you are here?”

“Why am I here? Your confused!? You were supposed to be in that ring doing run throughs this afternoon. But instead, you throw some sort of hissy fit, get into a fight with two of the biggest guys out there, and storm out, leaving the boys to sort out your mess!”

“Look I’ll apologise to the boys, but they’ll understand. They have my back, it’s not a problem.”

“Not for you maybe, but it sure as hell is a problem for me. I have spent so much time convincing Jim, Vince and anyone else that will listen that you had sorted yourself out, that you can be relied on, that you will play the game, and do what’s best for business. Displays like that hardly help my case!” She paced across the room, gesticulating wildly, the anger and frustration rolling off her body.

“Look, I appreciate that, you know I do, and I’m trying. I haven’t touched any stuff in months, I’ve been training, I’m in the best goddamn shape of my life.”

He gestured to his naked chest, drawing Kay’s attention for the first time to the fact that he was stood there still glistening from the shower in nothing more than a surprisingly small towel. Taking a breath to suppress the wave of inappropriate images that swarmed her mind, Kay replied;

“I know, that’s what makes it so much harder to understand. Six months ago, you kicking off like that would have been the norm, easy to explain. But you have been trying, and you’ve been doing so well. I even had JR comment on it. So why Shawn, why throw away all that goodwill to get into a fight with a couple of mid card wannabes?”

Shawn took a breath. He knew he was an idiot. He knew he should have kept his cool, and walked away. But he couldn’t help it. Not when they said what they had about her. And now, after everything he had done to win her trust, gain her friendship, there she was, looking at him once again with disappointment, worse, pity in her eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that” he couldn’t stop himself from saying.

“Like what?”

Turning away, ignoring her second question, he answered her first;

“It was personal, they said some things, and I lost my cool. It was unprofessional and immature, but I swear I haven’t taken anything, it wasn’t down to that. Just a couple of dicks I let under my skin. I should have risen above it, and I’m sorry. I’ll take a drugs test, anything you want. Just..., I need you to believe me. I made you a promise, and I’ve kept it. I’ll always keep it.” He looked back into her eyes, willing her to see the truth and sincerity in his words.

“What did they say?” she asked gently, the anger subsiding, turning to concern.

“It doesn’t matter” he insisted.

“Of course it matters.” She sounded exasperated now. “You know this business better than most, you know the guys better than most. If they can find something that gets under your skin, they will use that. They will wear you down with that. They will exploit your vulnerabilities and that will end up with you in places you don’t want to be. Please Shawn, you know I only want to help. Perhaps if we talk about whatever it was, we can get it out of your system so they can’t use it.”

Shawn laughed bitterly. That was the last thing he could do. “This isn’t something I can get out of my system. Believe me, I’ve tried. This is something that has become a part of me. I have accepted it, and you know , I know it is a weakness, but I’m working on it. There are just certain lines, certain things I struggle to control.”

Kay looked confused. “It feels like you’re talking in riddles. And that has me worried Shawn. You need to be honest, if not with me, with someone. Do you want me to get Paul?”

“No” he answered quickly, shaking his head. “I am being honest; I could never lie to you. It’s nothing I can talk out; it just is what it is.”

“You may not be lying, but you’re not telling me everything either. There is something wrong Shawn, and you need to address it.”

“I can’t."

“Why not?”

“Because,” Shawn sighed deeply, struggling to find the words to make this all go away. “Because, I don’t want to lose what I have” he finished softly, gazing longingly at the unwitting object of his affections.

“What are you going to lose? I don’t understand Shawn.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Shawn…”

“Look, I can’t...ok. Please drop this,” he pleaded.

“Why not? Shawn. You’re scaring me now, has something happened? Did you do something? Did someone do something to you? What have they got over you?” Anxiety bleed through her words.

“No, it’s not like that...” he tried to reassure her.

“Then what Shawn, I thought we were friends, I thought we trusted each other. You know I care about you; I want to be able to help you, but I can’t do that if you don’t trust me.”

“I do trust you, Kay. I trust you more than anyone.”

“Then tell me.”

“Kay , I...”

“Shawn, please.”

“Seriously, Kay, it’s not like that, it doesn’t matter...”

“If it’s upsetting you, of course it matters. If it matters to you, it matters to me.”

“I didn’t say it was upsetting me." He knew he was sounding defensive now, but he had to make her drop this.

“Well, you seemed pretty damned upset when you went for Mabel’s throat!” Her voice was rising again, frustration coupling with her concern.

“I told you, I over reacted, I’ll get a handle on it. Please stop pushing.” He tried to sound calm, ignoring the rising panic within, desperate just to blurt out the truth, but knowing that doing so would cost him the little he had.

“No, I need to know what is going on,” she insisted.

“Kay, stop, please.”

She took a step closer, placing a hand on his arm, all inappropriate thoughts from earlier gone from her mind, replaced only with worry over the obvious distress Shawn was in. Looking down at her hand on his skin, then back into those beautiful blue eyes, Shawn felt every inch of resolve within him crumble. He wanted desperately to reach out and touch her cheek, draw her to him, take her lips with his own. In that moment it all felt so hopeless, all his efforts to bury his feelings, futile. He was never going to get past this. Without any conscious thought, the words slipped past his lips.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“What??” Kay stepped back in surprise, releasing her hold on his arm. Shawn felt the loss like a cold knife to his heart. He looked at the shocked expression on her face, desperate to take back the words, to return her to her blissfully unaware state of just seconds ago. His brain scrambled for a response, for a way to save face, to salvage the friendship he had quite clearly just destroyed, to keep her in his life. But when he responded he seemed to have lost all control over his own mouth, as the words flowed without pause.

“I love you. I am in love with you. I have been since pretty much the moment we met. I love everything about you, your heart, your strength, the way you don’t take anyone’s shit, especially not mine. I wake up in the morning, and my first thought is of you. The highlight of my day is when I get to see your face, or even just hear your voice. I know that nothing is ever going to happen, even if you did date wrestlers, I am not the kind of guy you could ever think of that way. I’m an asshole. I know that. And a redneck to boot. But being your friend, being someone who not only gets to work with you, but to hang out, to talk to you, as a friend, that’s enough. Just to have that is enough. Just to be close to you is enough. I’ll get past this, maybe, but it doesn’t matter. All I want is for you to be happy, and to get to see that. But right now, I can’t help the way I feel. I can admit to feeling jealous when a guy flirts with you, and even more so when you flirt back, but I can deal with that . You’re not mine, you never will be, none of that is any of my business. But what I can’t deal with, what I won’t deal with, is guys like that talking shit about you. I couldn’t stand there and hear them say all those ugly things about you and just ignore it. I lost my cool. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have and I get that it is not my place, but it made my blood boil. And now its led me here, spouting all this shit, and I’m so gonna lose the one thing that was good in my life. Please, I’m sorry for being an ass. I can’t apologise to those guys, I won’t. But I can apologise to you for being unprofessional, and making you look bad. I know you have stood up for me when no-one else would, I know I let you down. Please, can we just forget everything I just said, put it down to my big mouth running off where it shouldn’t, let’s go back to being friends. I’m so sorry.”

Shawn’s whole body deflated as he finished his ramble. He should have felt self-conscious, stood there in only a towel, exposing himself even more emotionally than he was physically. But he couldn’t bring himself to care about any of that. He only cared that they could fix what he had so clearly messed up, self-destructing as ever.

Kay just stared at Shawn. She knew he had given a long, rambling speech, but in truth, everything after the first three words was something of a blur. He loved her? Shawn… was in love with her? Her addled brain began to digest some more of what he said. He thought she didn’t, couldn’t feel the same? That he wasn’t good enough for her? She couldn’t even begin to fathom a response to that.

“Kay?” There was a desperate edge to his voice. “Say something please. I’m sorry, I don’t know how else to say i...”

His words were cut short as she dove forward to capture his lips. A gentle hand traced the contours of his cheek, as the other caressed his shoulder, urging him towards her. That touch jumped started his momentarily frozen body into action. Kissing her back with all the love and urgency he possessed, his large hand caressed the back of her hair, running through her blonde locks, whilst the other, swept around her waist, resting on her lower back, pulling her closer. He realised his mistake as the towel he was strategically holding in place slipped from his body, but somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

The pair staggered slightly from the force of the kiss, with Kay’s back coming to rest heavily against the bathroom door. Her hands greedily explored the expanse of his exposed back slowly making their way down. As she traced further, she faltered, realising that she was still touching naked skin rather than the towel she had expected. She pulled back slightly to look questioningly at Shawn.

“Apologies darlin', I don’t wanna seem like I’m getting ahead of myself or anything here, but ..”

“But suddenly I am feeling very overdressed,” she interrupted him, smiling mischievously.

Kay pushed back against Shawn, leaving him standing completely exposed in the centre of the room. Her eyes hungrily took in his fully naked form, unable to stop herself involuntarily licking her lips as she stared at his full, and very erect, cock. He masked his sudden feeling of vulnerability with a customary smirk. She took a confident step forward, reaching behind her back, and pulling the zipper on her dress down with one smooth motion. Shaking her arms, the dress slipped easily from her body, leaving her standing there in white lace shorts, and a paired lace bra. Shawn stared at her greedily, his heart pounding in his ears, fighting the urge to pinch himself to check that this wasn’t some particularly vivid dream. Kay slowly paced forward, reminding Shawn fleetingly of a predator stalking his prey. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leant forward to recapture his lips.

Determined to regain some semblance of power in this situation, Shawn’s arms went around her body, and lifted Kay from the ground, sweeping her legs around his waist. She squeaked in surprise, grinning into their kiss. Shawn strode over to the bed, kneeling down and lowering her gently to the surface, never once breaking the kiss. Once she was fully secured on the bed, he turned his attentions to her neck placing gentle kisses across her skin, slowly working down across her chest towards her breasts, the temptation of them in that angelic looking white lace too much for him to bear. Kissing across her cleavage, he realised that the bra fastened at the front, and desperate to release the garments hold, he paused to glance up at Kay. She smiled back down at him nodding at the question in his eyes, reaching forward to release the hook herself. Gently batting away her hands, causing a grin to spread further across her face, he reached for the clasp, feeling the moment the fabric broke apart, and her beautiful breasts fell free. He kissed each one reverently, gently stroking along the sides, causing shivers to dance through her body. A needy moan escaped her lips as his mouth covered her left nipple, tongue tracing delicately over the tip, his hand gently massaging the right. A part of him wanted to stay right where he was for the rest of his life, but the temptation to continue to explore her body overwhelmed him. Releasing her breast with a gentle pop, he continued his pursuit down her body, feeling the friction of his now throbbing cock against the bed sheet as he moved. He took a breath to control himself, not wanting to embarrass himself like a teenage boy blowing his load at the first sight of a naked girl. Regaining his composure, he continued his downward path, reaching the top of her lace shorts. Moving down the delicate garment, he breathed in her heady aroma, overcome with a desire to taste her. He could feel her writhing underneath his touch, as he reached for the edge of her shorts. Looking to her once more for affirmation, and receiving a heavy-lidded nod, he gently slid the shorts down her legs, discarding them to the floor. He turned back to admire his handiwork. Kay lay on his bed gloriously naked, her breast glistening from where his lips had been moments ago. He felt himself grow even harder, not having thought that was even possible he was so turned on. He leant down to fulfil his previous desire to taste her but was stopped as she reached for his arm.

“Shawn, I need you. Inside me. Now. Please.” Her voice trembled as she spoke, thick with desire. She reached out and pulled him back up her body. Claiming his lips once more, the pair poured all their passion and longing into the kiss. Breaking for air, Shawn stared deep into Kay’s eyes. “Are you sure?”, the self-doubt still lingering somewhere at the back of his voice. “Shawn, I have never wanted anything more in my life”, she returned, shifting slightly so her body was more fully under his. Kissing her again, Shawn lowered his pelvis to hers, parting her legs as he did so. Reaching down, he lined himself up and gently pushed forward. Kay raised to meet his motion, feeling a spasm of excitement course through her body as he entered her, his cock stretching her out in the most delicious way. Shawn thrust slowly forward, eliciting a pleasured moan from Kay’s lips. Once he was fully seated inside her, he stopped to look into her eyes. Returning his gaze, Kay gently stroked his face, unable to contain her smile. They kissed once again, this time filled with tenderness, as they slowly explored each other’s mouths, tongues entwining as he began his slow movements back and forth, each stroke deeper than the last, her body moving to match his rhythm and pace. Needing more she parted her legs further allowing him deeper still. Breaking the kiss to gain some desperately needed air, Kay arched in pleasure beneath him as she felt him stroking every nerve, so deep inside her, her body on fire with desire and pleasure.

“Shawn, oh god, I’m so close, oh god.” She could feel her climax building as he continued to move inside of her. “Fuck baby, feel so good, so perfect, god I love you” he gasped out, increasing the speed of his thrusts, pushing ever deeper inside her. “I love you too, oh god Shawn, I’m going to, oh god, Shawn, Shawn, Shawn”. His name fell from her lips over and over, unable to form any other words. He felt her come apart beneath him as her orgasm overtook her, triggering his own, feeling the pleasure roll off him. “Kay, Kay, oh god Kay” he gasped. Shawn collapsed, spent, onto Kay, overwhelmed in pleasure. As they both slowly came down from their high, Shawn lifted himself slightly, mindful not to let her carry his full weight, but not wanting to break their intimate embrace. As she caught her breath, he couldn’t resist capturing her lips once more, a kiss she returned with all the passion she could muster. Breaking once more for air, he pressed his face to hers. “I love you Kay”. She stared back into his eyes. “I love you too”.

Reluctant to move, but aware that she was potentially being crushed, Shawn gently eased himself up, slipping softly from her body. Her pouty expression at the loss caught him off guard, and he couldn’t help but lean down in an attempt to kiss her once more. He relaxed his body as he did so, giving Kay the opportunity to once again take charge of the situation, as she rolled the pair so he was flat on his back and she was straddled across his lap, shaking the limply hanging bra from her shoulders as she did so. Shawn couldn’t help but follow the motion of her breasts as she made the move, enjoying the view this new position afforded him enormously.

“My turn,” Kay seductively whispered, as she leant down to caress the sensitive skin around his neck. As she slowly worked her way across his chest, Shawn could feel her already hardened nipples against his skin. She gently kissed his own nipples, teasing him with her tongue, causing him to twitch involuntarily. She ran her figure tips down his sides, noting the lack of ticklishness, and slowly began working her way down his body, following the trail of downy hair that worked its way towards his belly button. Placing a sloppy kiss there, she continued her downward trail. He could feel himself hardening already, breath hitching as she approached his semi-erect cock. Now level with his member she gently stroked the inside of his thighs, tracing the outline of his ball sack, before lovingly running her fingertips down his shaft. She smiled as he hardened further before her, gently wrapping her hand around him, givin.g him a slow stroke, while passing her thumb across his still dripping tip.

“Fuck” Shawn breathed. “That was kind of what I was thinking,” Kay replied. “Oh really? And what exactly were you thinking darlin'?” cocky grin back in place, as he pretended he still had some measure of control in this situation. Kay looked contemplative as she continued to stroke his cock with agonisingly slow motions. “Oh, I’m thinking all sorts of things” At her words he felt himself fully harden, refractory period be damned. “In fact, if I were to tell you all the things I’m thinking about doing right now, it would probably take a very long time. But what I am currently thinking about the most is how much I want to ride your beautiful cock,” she purred. “Well, who am I to deny a lady such a polite request?” he smirked back at her.

Rolling her eyes, Kay released her grip on him, sliding back up his body, sitting up straight so her still soaking opening pinned his erect cock to his abdomen. He took a moment to admire the view once more, raising a questioning eyebrow. She lifted herself up on her knees as he reached down to position his rigid member beneath her. She slowly lowered herself down, moaning deeply as he impaled her. Once she was fully seated, she took a moment to relish how gloriously full he made her feel. “Fuck Shawn, you feel so good, oh god...,” the last escaping her lips as he thrust up into her. Regaining her composure, she lunged forward pining his arms at the side of his head. “I believe the lady’s desire was to ride you” she pointedly told him. “Yes Ma’am” he grinned back at her. She, ground down on him deeply causing him to return her moan. Sitting back up, she began to ride him slowly, still adjusting to his size inside her. As she found her rhythm, she ran her hands down her own body, stopping to gently tease her own nipples. Thoughts of watching her pleasure herself ran through Shawn’s mind. He filed that away for a later date, because right now he wanted to be the one making her feel good. He quickly pushed her hands away, replacing them with his own. She threw her head back in pleasure as his ministrations increased, cupping her breasts and rubbing his calloused thumbs across her nipples. “Oh god Shawn, feels so good, so good.” “Yeah, you like that, makes you feel good”. “YES, yes, oh god I’m so close.” “Tell me what you need baby, talk to me.” “ I need, I need...,” Kay struggled to find the words as she felt the intense pleasure course thorough her body. “So close”, she moaned incoherently. Taking his cue, Shawn moved one hand from her breasts, down to where their bodies joined. Gently, he stroked around her pubic bone, searching for that magic spot to help her fall apart. His exploring finger found her clit, and gently applied pressure. As he hit the right spot she gasped in pleasure, causing him to increase his motion. Kay cried out as her orgasm overcame her, riding him through her waves of pleasure. “That’s it baby, I got ya, cum for me darlin” . “Oh my, Oh god, fuck, yes, oh Shawn, oh, oh.” “As she fell limply forward, Shawn moved his hands round her body, holding her in a gentle embrace as she came down from her high. He grinned to himself at just how damn vocal she was, and how fucking much that turned him on. She fucked like she lived, open and honest, giving herself fully to the task at hand. And that was so goddamn sexy.

Coming to her senses after the intensity of her second orgasm, and finally catching her breath, Kay raised herself up to look at Shawn. “What are you thinking?”, she asked, returning his question from earlier. “I’m thinking about just how damn sexy you look when you cum”. She smiled coyly at his compliment. “And I’m also thinking how much I wanna see you look like that again.” She bit her lip, “Yeah,”. “Oh yeah”.

Holding her tightly he swiftly reversed their positions once more, hardened cock still firmly inside her. She gasped at the motion, moaning at the feel of him moving against her sensitive walls. As he raised himself up, she arched towards him, feeling her desire hitch, despite the intensity of her previous orgasm.

“Tell me what you want,” he asked staring at her intently. She stared back at him, a thousand words flooding her mind. What did she want? She wanted this, she wanted Shawn. Everyday. Always. She wanted to spend every night in his arms. She wanted to make love to him over, and over again. She wanted to be with him. Everywhere. Anywhere. She searched his face, the implications of the question thick between them. Everything he had said earlier still hung in the air, and really, had she given him a proper answer? Despite his outward confidence she could see that flicker of the real Shawn underneath, the self-doubt, the insecurity. As desperately as her body wanted him to fuck her, her mind wanted to tell him how much he truly meant to her.

“I want you. Always”. His face broke into an uncertain smile, the hidden tension behind his eyes relaxing slightly. “Yeah?”. “Yes” she answered confidentially. “But right now, I need you to fuck me. Hard. Fast. I need you so much Shawn, I need to feel you everywhere”. In response he thrust deeply inside her, causing her to gasp in pleasure. “You want me hard, fast. You sure you can handle that darlin’,” he challenged. In response she wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing him even deeper inside her. “I can handle anything you’ve got,” she retorted. Biting his lip, Shawn reached for her arms, pinning them above her head, against the headboard. She arched further into him, moaning in response. He pumped swiftly into her, increasing his pace as she gasped in pleasure. “This what you want baby?” “Oh Shawn, yes, like that, oh, god, fuck me, please, harder, fuck, yes”. Pushing up with his left arm, he raised his body, increasing the intensity of his thrusts, blindly driving into her, fucking her into the bed.

“You like fucking me Shawn” she gasped. “Oh god, yes”. “Tell me, tell me you like to fuck me” she pleaded, needing to hear him. “God, I fucking love fucking you Kay, you feel so good, so tight, so warm, so wet. I wanna fuck you till you cum, I wanna make you cum so hard, I wanna cum so hard inside you.” His words heightened her arousal even further, increasing the intensity of the waves of pleasure she was feeling. She felt like she could feel him in every nerve in her body, the combination of emotion and physicality almost overwhelming her. “Oh god baby, your so good, so perfect. I love the way you take my dick, the way you fit me like a goddamn glove. I could keep on fucking you forever, I wanna be right here, right inside you. Oh, fuck baby I’m gonna cum so hard inside you. Need you to cum for me baby, please oh god, I wanna watch you cum.” He could feel his arousal building, feel himself so close to cumming, determined to hold on until she was ready. He released his hold on her arms, using his now free right arm to support himself and let him push ever deeper into her. She gasped in pleasure, and he felt her body tighten. Thrusting deeply, he felt her convulsing around him, moaning out his name as she finally came. He watched her face as her orgasm passed over her, eyes wide open, cheeks flushed, still gasping out his name, As she opened even further for him, he felt himself slip deeper still, his own orgasm overcoming him, shooting thick ribbons of cum inside her. The sensation triggered another orgasm in her, as she shuddered around him, grabbing his face and kissing him sloppily as her body spasmed in aftershocks. As they broke the kiss, both breathless, he stared reverently down at the incredible woman beneath him, still barely able to believe this was all real. As she unhooked her legs, he lifted himself off her, causing her to wince slightly. “Are you okay, did I hurt you” the pleasure of moments ago replaced with the fear that he had taken it too far. She smiled “No, no, just a little achy. But in the best possible way.”

Reassured, Shawn lowered himself next to her, watching the rise and fall of her chest as she continued to come down from her high and catch her breath. Looking round, he reached for his discarded towel on the floor and gently wiped the remnants of their shared pleasure from her still trembling body. Doing the same to himself, he threw the towel aside and laid back down, opening his arms, into which she willingly fell. They lay on the bed, his chest acting as her pillow, their bodies damp with perspiration, hers draped across his, sated and satisfied, as he gently stroked her hair. Intending only to stay like that for a few moments, neither realised when the other drifted into sleep.

[hostilecityshowdown]

Shawn making chocolates to make up for a fight he started with Diesel, but it goes horribly wrong.

[ ao3 ]

It was pure coincidence that the next hotel boasted a small café-bakery as an offering of hospitality. Around thirty miles back, Shawn realised he had to do something to apologise to Diesel for the scene he caused. The trouble was deciding what to do.

Maybe it was their ongoing rise in popularity that convinced the boss to pre-book them one of the swankier hotels, something at least a full star above the typical motor lodge they could afford on their own dime. Maybe McMahon was just concerned about making a good impression on the new recruit, considering how swiftly Diesel had turned coat on WCW and jumped to the WWF only two months before. Or, perhaps, this was an attempt to dissuade Shawn, himself, from engaging in his usual illicit activities - whatever the reason, Diesel was down in the gym, taking full advantage of their accommodations. After their argument, the previous night had been rough, to say the least, with too much awkward shuffling around each other in the too-small room. Shawn was used to pushing the beds together, but Diesel didn't move the nightstand aside as he normally did. He showered, bedded down, and went to sleep, leaving Shawn standing in the ambient light of the hallway peeking under the door. Feeling like a lost puppy, he eventually crawled under his own bedspread and restless leg syndrome'd himself out of any real sleep until dawn. Diesel took off during one of the few hours his partner was unconscious, leaving a brochure opened to the gym's page on his bed to indicate where he'd gone.

Things were not good.

It was the first real fight they'd had, Shawn realised as he stared at the thick, day glow orange curtains, and he was doing a pretty bad job at making up, even though he resolved to do so en route to their current hotel. He bundled the comforter up against his chest and clutched it, sighing, racking his brain for a solution; he was determined not to let himself leave bed until a light bulb illuminated above his head. Metaphorically, at least, he thought to himself, already pacing from one end of the room to the next.

"So much for that," he grunted, tussling his hair furiously with both hands, leg bouncing every time he pivoted to pace another line. "It can't just be sincere, it's gotta look sincere. Believable, not like I got caught with my hand in the cookie jar and the thing I'm sorry for is getting caught. I gotta apologise for popping open the cookie jar in the first place."

Shawn's stomach growled. He stopped pacing, looking down at his abdomen as if it had spoken to him.

"... Cookies, huh?" That was… Perfect. That was-

“-why I need to use your kitchen, capisce?” Shawn was leaning both elbows on the counter, chin propped in one hand, chewing his gum furiously and bouncing one leg so hard he kept knocking his knee against the pastry display case. He’d spent extra time on his hair, pulled out some of his more understated jewellery, touched up his nails, even applied a little bit of makeup. Just enough to make his eyelashes more noticeable when he fluttered them pleadingly and to cover up the bruise on his temple beneath his bangs, something Shawn earned in his latest match before Diesel could interfere. It was one of the things they’d fought over, but he omitted that part of the story when he explained his dire situation to the barista working the hotel café. He was young, probably college age, with enough piercings and processed hair to make Shawn suspicious of how he scored a job in the hospitality industry but, hey, whatever, who was he to judge? He was a jacked, 6’1” dude trying to coerce this kid into letting him use his employer’s kitchen to bake cookies for a man he nearly kicked in the jaw because he was angry at himself, after all. To drive his point home, Shawn bat his eyelashes up at him and clasped his hands together pleadingly.

“I don’t know, man….” The barista’s name tag read ‘Silas.’ “I can’t let you back here.”

“And I understand that,” Shawn responded immediately, spreading his hands out, palms pointed down and fingers splayed. He nodded sympathetically. “This is really important, my livelihood- our friendship could depend on this. How ‘bout you give me the stuff and I’ll, uh, I’ll mix the batter, and you can… Cook it for me?”

After a few moments of silence that lasted an eternity for Shawn, Silas sighed, shoulder’s slumping. He shook his head and resumed cleaning the whipped cream canister tips. Poor kid, he was probably only holding this job down because he desperately needed the cash and would move onto the next shitty gig in the next shitty town as soon as he had the gas money. Shawn pulled out his wallet, licked a finger, and leafed through a few bills. “I can comp ya for it.”

“No, that’s, uh,” Silas mumbled, searching for the least offensive words. “Unprofessional. Can you wait here a sec?”

All too happy to tuck his wallet away, Shawn nodded vigorously and resumed his leaning on the countertop, practically dancing foot to foot. Silas’s eyes were dark and soft, warm, his sympathy genuine - he wasn’t just taking pity on Shawn, and he held up a single finger with chipped black nail polish before he disappeared into the kitchen behind him. When he returned, he was carrying a plastic mold and a few transparent bags. He laid them all on the counter and nudged them towards Shawn. “Here, you can use these. Bring back the molds and whatever you don’t use, please?”

“Uh, thanks?” Shawn replied, dumbfounded. He picked up the mold and turned it over in his hands, realising the shapes were… Little teddy bears holding hearts. The bags contained paper lollipop sticks, cellophane wrappers, and satin ribbons. “Hey, Silas, pal? What am I supposed to do with these?”

Silas winced before getting his face under control. A little too under control, unfortunately, his tone deadpan. “Chocolate lollipops.”

“...Chocolate lollipops.” Silas nodded. Shawn exhaled slowly and laid the mold down on the counter gently, as if fragile glass. “And how the hell am I supposed to do that?”

Looking taken aback, the teen shrugged a shoulder a first before catching himself. He held up his finger again, ducked back into the kitchen, and returned with a cookbook and notepad, the kind one would tear pages out of and clip to a turn style for a chef to snatch orders from. Placing the book on the countertop, he flipped to the index, trailing down the list until he found what he was looking for and tapped it, mumbling the page number to himself. After turning to it, he laid the notepad on the open page and leaned down so far over it Shawn thought he was going to put his head down and go to sleep. Shawn sort of wanted to do that, honestly, but instead he watched Silas copy the recipe down for him and accepted the paper when it was handed to him. Silas’s writing wasn’t sloppy, but it was sharp, with a flare that reminded Shawn of calligraphy and those moody goth albums Diesel liked. “I adjusted the recipe for you. If you follow these measurements, you won’t need another mold. Do you… Want some measuring spoons and stuff?”

–

Silas sent Shawn back to his room with a full box of stuff, including a hot plate, pot, silicone spatula, and all the ingredients. Initially, he’d tried to convince Shawn to buy the foodstuffs himself, but the fifty dollar bill Shawn somehow coerced him to accept changed his mind. Triumphant, Shawn fumbled with his key until he managed to open the door and tumble into the room, setting up his workspace on the window sill and nightstand in a near-frenzy. The analogue clock clattered to the floor, hotel notepad dropped behind the nightstand, the curtains haphazardly shoved aside. He’d left the do-not-disturb sign on the doorknob and hoped Diesel would heed the warning. Standing back with his hands on his hips, Shawn tapped his foot and assessed his battle station. 

It looked perfect. He had already greased the mold and laid the sticks in their little slots, tossing the rest of the cooking spray and sticks on the bed. Beside the mold was powdered sugar, four cellophane wrappers, and four strips of ribbon. To the left were measuring cups, red, off-white, and dark melting chocolates, three metal pots, three piping bags, a pair of scissors, and a jug of water, all lined up on the windowsill. Against the wall left of the window, taking the place of the bedside clock was the plugged in hotplate, pot, three spatulas, and a chocolate thermometer. He couldn’t find any Fun-Tac, so he stuck the recipe to the wood paneling above the hotplate with his chewed gum. Shawn felt pretty damn proud of himself for laying everything out in a mildly coherent order. It took him a really long time, and he had to tie his hair back away from his neck. He almost broke a sweat there.

Pouring water into the pot and a bowl over it, then flipping the hotplate’s switch to ‘on,’ Shawn measured out somewhere around how much of the red melting chocolate was necessary and stood in front of the double boiler, staring. He shuffled from foot to foot. It was too quiet in the room, actually, and he crouched in front of the television set to fiddle with the dials, one hand carefully balancing the metal measuring cup. It was only when he heard the hotplate hissing that he remembered he was boiling water.

“Uh-oh-” Shawn bolted upright, lunging across the room to turn the heat off. It was a miracle he didn’t spill any of the chocolate discs. Without checking the temperature, he poured the chocolate in. It instantly melted into a dark red mess and he snatched up one of the spatulas, stirring furiously, but it kept clumping. “C’mon. What the hell?”

He tried to pick up the bowl but jerked his hand away, shaking his fingers furiously, the spatula dropped in the bowl. He didn’t have any oven mitts. “Ow. Damn, what was that for?” Shawn was almost whining as he carefully lifted the spatula, half the red chocolate stuck to it. It looked sort of… Melty, the silicone bending, looking soft. When he tried to give the muddy chocolate a stir, some of the spatula swirled into it. He was going to have to give Silas way more than a fifty to make up for this, he realised, jogging to the bathroom to grab a few hand towels. He emptied the whole affair into the trash bin and tried again, this time reading the recipe closely and actually measuring the temperature of the bowl before adding the chocolate. The thermometer was held with one hand, the other stirring with a more solid spatula- it took him a few tries to figure out which hand should do what, and more than once he nearly checked the spatula and stirred with the thermometer. Behind him, the television was playing an episode of Family Feud, volume too low to make anything out.

“This is harder than it looks. That punk actually knows how to make these?” The Heartbreak Kid was muttering to himself, consulting the recipe again as he removed his earrings and threw them on the bed. “Looks like… I cool it down a little bit and put it in the piping bag next. That’s doable.”

By the time he looked down again, the chocolate was already starting to harden at the edges. He gave it a quick stir before pouring it into one of the piping bags, remembering his mother doing something similar when she’d make butter cookies on Saturday nights. Something about the memory made him miss Marty. Shaking the thought off, he snipped the bottom of the piping bag a little too wide, shuffled to the mold, and tried to be meticulous about filling the hearts the bears held. He overfilled the first one, nailed the second and third, and didn’t have enough chocolate for the fourth. Damn. “Big deal, Diesel wouldn’t eat four of these, anyway.”

He tossed the empty bag in the garbage, set the bowl aside, and realised how exhausting this whole process was when he looked at the dirty spatula. Next up was the white chocolate, so he’d use the clean spatula for that, but reuse the dirty one for the regular chocolate. The brown should cancel out the red, right? The process went more smoothly this time around, Shawn even getting the ratios right when filling in the little bows around the bears’ necks. Somehow everything went wrong the second he thought he had everything under control; Shawn forgot to check the temperature before adding the last batch of chocolate, which he suspected he measured wrong due to misreading the numbers, and he had to snatch the bowl up and stir like his life depended on it. The chocolate smoothed out thankfully and the spatula didn’t melt, but it was way too much, and when he glanced at the mold he realised he hadn’t let the white chocolate cool enough before pouring it. Only the last bear’s bow wasn’t deformed, and the first bear’s heart had expanded during hardening and oozed into other portions of the mold.

The chocolate in his hands started to harden before it was all melted and he got it back on the heat, trying to get into the rhythm of stirring and temperature checking again, but he kept forgetting the number and he was probably stirring too much and this was way, way too much chocolate and he was going to get Silas fired and-

A knock on the door made Shawn jump right as he was taking the chocolate off the heat. Luckily, he was able to make it tumble out of his hand towards the window sill, and somehow the bowl landed upright with a loud clang. 

“Shawn?” Diesel’s voice came from the other side of the door. Shit. Shit, shit- “I’m coming in.”

“Wait-” Diesel didn’t wait, unlocking the door even before he spoke, and froze when he saw Shawn’s makeshift kitchen. Initially, his expression was vacant. Even with his sunglasses, Shawn could tell he was trying to process this, and Shawn didn’t know what else to do but stand there clutching the red-and-brown chocolate covered spatula, staring at Diesel helplessly. He was vaguely aware that the chocolate might harden before he could get it into the mold but wasn’t sure what to do about that. Diesel blinked. Shawn cleared his throat, voice strained, a little higher than he would’ve liked. “I’m, uh, sorry.”

“For… What? Are you making d-”

“No! God, no,” Shawn barked out a forced laugh and ran a hand through his hair, rocking on his heels. He felt sweat run down his forehead and his face flush. His face couldn’t decide if it wanted to smile or grimace. “No. I’m making chocolate suckers.”

“...Okay?” Diesel inched into the room almost cautiously and closed the door behind him, moving like Shawn’s delicious confectionery concoctions were wild animals that would leap out of the mold and maul him. Maybe there was something to that, with how bad Shawn screwed them up. “And you’re sorry for making chocolate lollipops?”

“Yeah- no- hold on-” Suddenly remembering the chocolate again, Shawn almost dropped the spatula and whirled around, snatching up the bowl and furiously shoveling the swiftly hardening chocolate into the cavities, foregoing the piping bag altogether. More accurately, he dumped the contents of the bowl onto the mold, positive he didn’t measure correctly as he watched the chocolate cover the entire surface even after filling out the rest of the bears. Some of the chocolate had hardened, creating little lumps here and there. Defeated, Shawn heaved a frustrated sigh and tossed the bowl and spatula on the windowsill. “Fuck.”

“Shawn,” his partner’s voice came from right behind him, fingers grazing his arm. Diesel spoke so softly Shawn almost cried, stomping his foot before pivoting on it, hands fluttering up Diesel’s arms, over his chest and up, hands settling on his neck. He felt jittery. He was so tired. He could run a marathon and sleep for a week at the same time, and he wanted nothing more than to twist Diesel’s arm until his elbow dislocated, except maybe drag Diesel into bed- “Shawn.”

“Whuh?” Shawn blinked, hard. His nose felt runny, his throat tight, face hot. He sniffed, blinking back tears and inhaling sharply. His chest felt like an airplane cabin that forgot to depressurise. At some point Diesel had pushed his shades into his hair and was looking at him with concern, hands hovering just under Shawn’s elbows. He was trying not to cringe at how hard Shawn was rubbing his thumbs against the sides of his neck, but when Shawn jerked his hands away, Diesel quickly clapped them back against his skin with his own hands. The leather of his gloves was so soft. It made Shawn want to cry. “Yeah?”

“You’re okay. Tell me what’s going on?”

“I screwed it up,” Shawn laughed. It sounded wet. Gross. “I screwed up, okay? I’m sorry, I’m an impulsive asshole and I never should’ve kicked you or got in your face and you didn’t do anything wrong, I’m just an asshole, and I’m supposed to be making it up to you and apologising but I’m fucking stupid and can’t read and-”

“Whoa,” Diesel squeezed Shawn’s hands, fingers pressing into his knuckles. He slid his grip down Shawn’s arms slowly, hovering over the junction of his arm and torso only briefly before grasping him more firmly, hands coming to rest over Shawn’s waist. He squeezed again and Shawn shuffled closer involuntarily. He was learning he loved when Diesel held him more than almost anything else in the world, maybe even more than rhinestones and gold camera flashes and- “Pump the breaks, Heartbreak. Let me get this straight: You’re making chocolate lollipops to apologise to me?”

Feeling a pathetic wave of shame, Shawn nodded. He couldn’t look at Diesel’s face anymore, laser focused on his Adam's apple. Diesel didn’t acknowledge it if he noticed.

“Okay. Thanks. I forgive you.” What? Shawn frowned, trying to process that. No, that wasn’t right. What? Diesel kept talking though, not giving him any time to parse what he was saying out. “And you’re making these lollipops, but it’s not going well.”

“Silas wrote the whole recipe for me and he gave me all this crap and I really, really should’ve just- just bought my own, because he’s not supposed to, but his handwriting is so stupid and fancy and-”

“Who the hell is Silas?”

“The barista, Diese!” Shawn stomped a foot and pat Diesel’s neck firmly, glaring, suddenly indigent. He could feel a tension headache forming as his eyebrows furrowed and a scowl threatened to twist his face. “Downstairs, in the- the bakery- thing! I bribed him to give me his shit and he copied the recipe for me and I fucked it up and now what am I supposed to do, huh?”

“Okay,” Diesel mumbled, squeezing Shawn’s waist again. Shawn’s leg was jittering, a staccato much unlike his stomps when tuning up the band. He didn’t like that but didn’t have time to dwell on it, thoughts coming to an abrupt halt when Diesel wrapped his big arms around him and squeezed. Shawn’s arms wrapped around his neck, Diesel’s stubble scratching against his cheek. Diesel huffed, the sound muffled by Shawn’s shoulder. “Alright. Let the chocolate cool and we’ll pry the lollipops out, okay?”

‘Kay,” Shawn whispered, voice cracking. He leaned all his weight against Diesel and played with the ends of his hair. He hadn’t gelled it back, his bangs parted in the middle, and the back was wavy but flipping up and out. It was soft, maybe a little frizzy from excessive flat iron use. That was Shawn’s fault, though. They stayed like that for a while, Shawn gradually gaining awareness of the Family Feud audio still quietly playing in the background. He muttered without realising he was even doing it until it was too late to stop himself. “Cowboys.”

“What?” Baffled, Diesel drew back from their extended hug, mindfully shifting Shawn’s weight back onto his feet. Shawn pointed at the television behind Diesel’s back as the speakers dinged, the word ‘COWBOYS’ displaying on the board. Forty-seven people had responded to the survey with ‘cowboys’, Diesel noticed as he turned around. He hadn’t even realised the game show was on. “Cowboys.”

“Cowboys,” Shawn echoed, nodding sagely. “‘Name something that Texas is famous for.’ Cowboys.”

“...Cowboys,” Diesel said again. He snapped out of his trance and turned back to Shawn with a raised eyebrow, patting his shoulder. “Why don’t we pop those suckers out?”

“You wanna help?” A grin threatened to split Shawn’s face, his mood deftly swinging upwards. Energy coursed through him again and he didn’t notice how tired Diesel looked as he spun, picking up the filled mold and holding it out to Diesel. Some of the chocolate had dripped over the edge during hardening, creating a single slab of chocolate with four sticks embedded in it. Shawn beamed despite this. ”I made them myself. D’you have a knife? We can carve them out.”

“I’ll get a knife,” his bodyguard assured him, examining the chocolate. “Wait here.”

-

While Diesel meticulously carved the chocolate bears out, Shawn laid on the bed, kicking his legs and flipping through the SkyMall catalogue he’d stolen from the flight he took to meet Diesel the first time. He hadn’t gotten the chance to look at it before then, and he tossed it onto the opposite bed when Diesel held up the four misshapen, heart-clutching bears at Shawn, freed from their chocolatey prison. Shawn rolled off the bed and landed on his feet, knees bent, springing to Diesel’s side in a motion akin to a leap. “Mission success.”

“These look great, big daddy.” He whistled, plucking only the best bear from Diesel’s hand and spinning it around. “Wrap ‘em.”

Diesel snorted and handed Shawn a second lollipop, along with two of the wrappers. Diesel was significantly more graceful when fitting his wrappers over his pops, Shawn struggling to hold both of them at once and muscling through it. He followed Diesel’s lead and twisted the ends around the sticks, apprehensively looking at the ribbons Diesel held out to him but not making any move to take them. After a few seconds, his partner took back the bear he handed Shawn, trading it for a singular, pink satin ribbon. Shawn beamed, leaned over the lollipops to give Diesel’s cheek an almost comical smooch, and went to work. He ended up having to sit down and wedge the stick between his thighs to tie the ribbon on prettily enough. By the time it was ready to present to Diesel, the big man had already tied off his three ribbons, sticks clutched between the fingers of his left hand. Oh.

Uncertain, Shawn held the lollipop out, brought it back towards himself, then fully extended his arm towards Diesel. The bottom of the stick was pointing at him. “Sorry. For being such a jerk.”

“Eh, you’re my jerk.” Accepting the lollipop, Diesel laid all four of them on the windowsill and opened his arms instead. Shawn didn’t hesitate, barreling into Diesel so hard he nearly toppled his chair backwards. “Oof. Launch a torpedo at me next time, why dontcha?”

Shawn laughed and covered Diesel’s face in obnoxious kisses, ignoring his protests.

-

“Fired?” Silas repeated, taking the notice from the hotel owner. She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at him sternly, body language saying ‘I knew hiring you was a bad idea’ despite her silence. He scratched the back of his head, shrugged, and figured this would give him more time to focus on his band, at least. “That’s fair. Do I get comped for my PTO?”