Nothing but a self-indulgent blog for all the wrestling ships that have taken over my brain. Kayfabe only. Mostly 90s wrestling.
my other wrestling blog, but it's less gay: @wrestling-mybeloved
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-and when you can; may we get a RESOLUTION to that last one??
👉👈
Although it was very good and it has fed us >:p
<(￣︶￣)>
(Worry not baby birds you will be FED and LOVED)
Shawn Thinks Taker is Cheating, pt. 2
Hurt/Comfort below the cut.
Shawn wakes up back in bed, not realizing he'd fallen asleep in the bathroom. Or, at least, he doesn't remember getting back into bed last night. He shifts up onto his elbows, scrubbing a hand up and down his face to try and clear his mind.
The bed is empty. Shawn sees that when he lets his eyes fully open and the space where Undertaker had been laying was empty. He wants to feel...something. But he doesn't. It's just an emptiness, almost like he was waiting for it. Like he'd always been waiting for it.
Shawn shifts and sits up, looking down at his hands in his lap. It's quiet in the room, and empty. Shawn's been in a lot of quiet and empty hotel rooms, only, this time he's sober. And being sober, he's aware of every place where Undertaker should have been, but wasn't.
And that was, a majority, Shawn's fault. He was too much for too long. He was too angry, too upset, he couldn't just...let Taker come home. He was still coming home to Shawn, which meant he had a chance to fix it, right? Or was Shawn right to be upset, to be furious, to demand who it was and why and how he could do this?
He doesn't know. Shawn doesn't know. He thinks, maybe, he'll simply remain there in that bed until he becomes part of it. All the emotion from the last night is drained out, leaving him empty, leaving him quiet. Shawn looks to the nightstand, and, fuck sobriety, he kind of wishes he could destroy it all.
If Taker didn't want this, then why keep it up?
The door to the room unlocks and gives Shawn a start, his heart squeezing when Undertaker walks in with a bag of what smells like food in his hand. Shawn presses back against the headboard, that kind of tense fear of being completely where he shouldn't be, out in the open, about to be screamed at for another thing he'd done wrong.
Undertaker sees Shawn, and he looks tired. Deep bags under his eyes, still in the same clothes as last night. He says nothing as he sets the bag of food at Shawn's feet and then moves to sit at his side. Shawn sits still, holding his arms close, afraid to touch, longing to touch. Needing him.
Oh, god, he needed him. He had always needed him.
"I'm sorry."
Shawn intends to say it, but it comes out as a chorus. The two men look at one another with widened eyes and parted lips. Undertaker's brows furrow and Shawn's throat stops up.
"What are you...?" Shawn whispers, then clears his throat, forces out the lump. He takes in a breath, looks at the food bag at his feet, having never been less hungry in his life. Shawn thinks for a moment longer, and he figures the damage has been done.
What's left to break?
"Uh...it's okay. I understand," he breathes, nodding. "Just um...who is it?"
There's a long silence in which Undertaker shifts. Shawn puts his palms on his biceps and gives them a squeeze.
"Do they make you happy?" he asks.
Do they make you happier? Do they take less work? Are they easier to love? Do they have less to fix?
"...Oh, god, darlin'," Taker breathes, and puts his hand on Shawn's back, pulling him in suddenly. Shawn makes a surprised noise when Undertaker grabs him and yanks him into his lap, forcing Shawn to face him, grasping his thighs hard just in case Shawn wanted to try and wiggle free. Which, stunned into silence, Shawn does not try.
Undertaker gives Shawn a very sad, but a very firm look. His hands on Shawn's legs are large and firm, keeping him anchored.
"That's what's wrong. You think I'm steppin' out on you," Taker says, as if realizing it for the first time, eyes narrowing, then softening, a world of emotions coasting over his face. "Ain't no way, baby. God, ain't no way, okay? That ain't what's happening here," Undertaker says firm.
Shawn holds his breath for a few seconds, looking hard into Undertaker's face. They know each other so well that, at this point, it's useless to lie. The truth is either said outright or in a much more painful way, and so neither of them really bother with it anymore. Still, Shawn has to check. He has to.
At the end of those terrible and long seconds, Shawn shakes a bit, his hands loosen on his own biceps, and he asks,
"Really? I j- but...." That lump twists back up in Shawn's throat, but he tries to speak through it. "You...where have you been going? You're always- you're always gone, like...late, after we fall asleep, you leave. And you don't smell like- I don't know, you smell like perfume. You don't smell like you."
Undertaker moves his hands in slow motions up and down Shawn's thighs as he talks and gets more worked up, shaking his head gently.
"Fuck, darlin'. Goddamit, I- ah, fuck. I'm sorry. I...I didn't want to worry you, s'all," Taker says, continuing to rub gently up and down Shawn's thighs. "I've just been heading to the Valley."
Shawn blinks once, then twice.
"But.... Wait, we're thousands of miles from...?" Shawn says, and then, gradually, his eyes widen. "You're teleporting. Your powers are- are your powers coming back?!"
Undertaker gives a soft nod, his hands sliding up Shawn's sides to start rubbing his back with pressure in his fingertips. Shawn lets go of his own biceps and reaches a hand forward, pressing it over Undertaker's chest. If he pays attention, he can notice a skipped beat here or there.
"I've been working the garden, gettin' it ready to grow flowers again. It helps me just...clear my head. Reminds me of Mother," Undertaker explains, moving his hands slow up and down Shawn's spine. Things start to fall into place - the floral scent. The musk that was those strange red flowers Taker liked growing back in the day in the garden behind the house. Him being gone, coming back tired.
"Oh my god, you're just going home...but why didn't you tell me?" Shawn asks, hands pressing against Undertaker's chest. "Why are you keeping this from me?"
"Because you're panicking," Undertaker says gently, lifting a brow. Shawn opens his mouth to deny it, but then he shuts his mouth again. "See? Yer always worried I'm gonna die again, wonderin' what'll happen with my powers."
"Because we don't understand them," Shawn says quietly. Undertaker nods and leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to Shawn's forehead. It's soft and tender, and it lets all the fear tremble out of Shawn in one shaking exhale.
"I didn't want to tell ya until I knew why it was happening. I'm sorry I've been cold, I'm sorry I've been...I've been a bit of a bastard," Taker whispers. Shawn shakes his head and sits back, running his fingers through short red hair.
"You're not a bastard. I just...I spiral, you know?" Shawn says. "Especially without all the shit I used to use." Undertaker nods and looks over Shawn's face, thinking for a long time. A very long time.
Shawn starts to squirm in Taker's lap.
"What's wrong?" Shawn asks. Undertaker moves his hands up to Shawn's shoulders.
"You thought I was steppin' out on you, and you apologized to me? Tell me why that makes sense, kiddo," Undertaker says, thumbs pressing against Shawn's collarbones, giving him a gentle shake. "You really think it'd be your fault."
Shawn swallows. He looks away, but Taker puts his fingers under Shawn's chin and turns his head so he can look at Taker.
"Uh-uh, you ain't gonna look pretty and use it to get out of this. That don't work anymore. We promised we'd talk about this, ain't we?" Taker asks, and Shawn sighs. They did promise that, but it seemed so easy when there wasn't much to talk about. Shawn sits back, and Taker moves his hands to cup Shawn's back again.
"...I'm a lot, you know? I'm a lot for anyone."
"Not for me," Taker says, shaking his head. "I've had a hell of a life, Shawn. You really think, after all I've been through, knowin' how much I love you, that you're too much?"
Shawn swallows thickly and takes a shaky breath, then shrugs.
"I pissed you off last night, didn't I?" he asks. Taker frowns, chewing those words over for a bit.
"...No, it wasn't you. I felt like you were pissed about somethin', and I was pissed because I couldn't figure out what. I was hidin' so much from you, and you were in a bad way, and I just.... I felt like I couldn't really take care of you."
"You take care of me just fine," Shawn insists, and Taker's face relaxes into a smile.
"I try to. I gotta work on lettin' you know just how easy it is to love you, though, don't I? So you never get it in your head again that this is hard. This ain't hard. Comin' back to life? That's hard. Lovin' you? Easiest thing I've ever done in my life."
Shawn pushes forward and buries his face in Undertaker's neck, arms wrapping around him tight. Undertaker holds him in close, giving Shawn a good, warm squeeze.
"I love you, kiddo. Always gonna love you," Undertaker promises. "Even when my heart stops beatin', it'll be yours."
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Is the shirt cut meme still a thing or —?
guys this was for anatomy practice. totally no other external force driving me to have done this meme. this was totally not an excuse to draw man tits or to babygirlify shawn. I just wanted to practice, that's all. Please believe me guys
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Adding to this HC: Taker pretends to be asleep(He literally just lays down) when Shawn's sleeping so they can cuddle :)
Not a request but an HC:
Taker doesn't sleep. He just doesn't. He literally sleeps only when dead. So when he's making a joke (he gets to once a year), it's almost always "I'll sleep when I'm dead"
If he's really tired, he'll settle in for a dirt nap (ba dum tss). Just die a little bit to get some rest.
And for my final pun, he sleeps like the dead
Pun count: 2
Quality Rating: 100
Meltzer Rating: 6/5
Adding to this, when Taker does sleep, he sleeps deep. Such that Shawn does loud shit around him like playing music, banging pots and pans, rearranging the bedroom (with Undertaker drooling and sleeping on the bed). When Taker wakes up, he's like "Eh...? ...Food." And crushes a box of crackers.
#i have the mind of a mastermind#but yes. whenever Shawn goes 'I wanna sleep' Taker is already on the bed#shawn x taker#headcanons#reblog
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A wip that will probably forever stay as a wip
This is for anatomy practice guys, believe me. this is literally just an excuse to draw men booba.
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Hunter Gets Shawn Ready
Hunter hikes Shawn’s pants up and clasps the belt, making sure they’re snug around his thin hips. Shawn watches him with soft eyes, following his friend with his gaze as Hunter gets Shawn’s bellybutton ring. Shawn is standing, so Hunter gets down on a knee as he unclasps the dangly piece of jewelry, eyeing the slight indents in Shawn’s navel.
“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” Hunter says, thumbing at Shawn’s navel. Shawn snorts and wiggles away a bit, to which Hunter laughs and leans in, kissing Shawn’s belly. “C’mon, you were the one who wanted this thing. Gotta suck up the tickles.”
“Hunter,” Shawn complains with a laugh, throwing his head back. Hunter snorts and shifts in closer, thumb pressing to the small hole in the top of Shawn’s navel. Shawn holds his breath to keep the laughter back as Hunter, almost too carefully, continues to tug and thumb at the small hole. This part always takes forever, mostly because Hunter’s afraid of hurting Shawn. Jabbing him in the wrong place, making him bleed.
But he doesn’t. As always, Hunter smoothly inserts the back of the ring, almost face-to-stomach with Shawn as he maneuvers it out the other side of Shawn’s top navel. Once the prong shows, Hunter gets the backing and slips it on, then gives the dangly thing a little flick.
“Did it hurt?” Hunter asks, looking up at Shawn with his hands now cupping Shawn’s hips. Shawn shakes his head, and Hunter stands, leaning in to give Shawn a gentle kiss on his lips. “Good. Now, sit down. I need to brush your hair.”
“Okay,” Shawn hums happily, smiling against Hunter’s mouth, gently closing his eyes. “Will you braid it for me?”
Hunter wraps an arm around Shawn’s shoulders. His free hand strokes through Shawn’s hair, coaxing Shawn to close his eyes and rest his face in Hunter’s neck. For a moment, the two of them stand there, Hunter slowly rocking them from foot-to-foot as his thick fingers gently detangle Shawn’s hair.
#I'm not crying you're crying#them <3#this is so disgustingly domestic— I love it#shawn#hunter#shawnter#reblog#fave
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Oh dang, new art style :D
This is my first time drawing Taker, he has a really good nose, I have to admit. And Shawn is Shawn, as always
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“What did Achilles do when Patroclus died?” Kane asks his big brother, who slowly wraps the chain around his fists. There is a casket laid before him, shiny and new, sealed shut so the one who laid in it would never have to fear being touched when he could not help himself. Stitches cover his face, marring it, though Undertaker did what he could to piece his lover back together.
The Deadman stands, chain gripped in his hands, but he does not feel the cold nor the bite of the thick, heavy weapon. He does not feel anything but rage. He does not feel anything but that sickening, immeasurable, breathless ache of rage when there is nothing left to feel. Meanwhile, Shawn feels nothing at all, laying peacefully, golden hair spread out on a soft satin pillow.
It wasn’t meant to end this way. Their line of work was meant to be safe. Brother protecting brother. Safety in their wars. A promise of tomorrow. That was what they were promised, a tomorrow. And now, the ones who had promised, the ones who had protected, the ones who had failed Shawn, were taking the last sweet breaths of that warm Summer month.
“He slaughtered the Trojans,” Undertaker answers, voice strained and low, looking down at the casket, shiny and new. Kane steps up behind Undertaker, and he asks,
“How many?”
Undertaker swallows and he grips the chains until the metal creaks. What is left of his humanity lays in a bed of golden flowers.
“Each and every one.”
#you know you can't just kill me like this#why do you do this? right in front of my salad#it's the fact that I've read Song of Achilles a while back and then I read THIS#dudE man fuCK shit#shawn x taker#reblog
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Concept: Shawn is looking at himself in the mirror, it’s been a rough week, he feels tired and worn down. He’s noticing all his flaws and the way his body is aging.
Aba!Taker walks in sleepily, wraps his arms around Shawn from behind, and leans over to put his face in Shawn’s neck.
“Come back to bed. I can’t sleep without holding ya.”
And Shawn realizes his body isn’t imperfect at all. In fact, it has at least one important use. And that’s to have Undertaker hold him, and to lull him to sleep. So he goes back to bed and lets Undertaker hold him like a child’s teddy bear, stroking his hair as the larger man falls asleep.
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A doodle
drawing this was— an experience ngl. Lots of thoughts going through my mind while doodling this. Yes, those are nipple piercings. No, I will not elaborate. Have a nice day
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How about BlueBlood!Hunter and Shawn; the latter teases Hunter to the point where the aristocrat could lose his patience?
This could be around the time Hunter slowly evolves/changes his behavior; Shawn is both surprised and proud of the change (Pre-DX)
(Annoying your friends until they have an entire personality change = Just girlie things)
Shawn Makes BlueBlood!Hunter Lose His Patience
NSFW below the cut.
"Shawn, have the decency to close the window," Hunter says in exhasperation, motioning to the opened curtains in their hotel room. Shawn puts his hands on his hips, his bare hips, standing naked before the clear window.
"Why?" Shawn asks, cocking a hip, his half-chub bouncing a bit. "Afraid someone will see you on your knees for me? Think the big-bad-Blue Blood will lose some of his street cred?"
Hunter lowers his head and scrubs his calloused palm up and down his face. He can just picture Shawn's bare, untanned asscheeks greeting the businessman who's staying late in the office across from their hotel. Like a beacon of idiocy.
Hunter stands and slips past Shawn, grasping the curtains and giving them a good tug to bring them closed. Shawn makes a disappointed noise behind Hunter, and soon small hands are sliding up his sides, reminding Hunter that he'd been relaxing in just his boxer briefs.
You wouldn't have caught him dead doing that a few months ago, but Shawn had an effect on Hunter. He has a way of making him...relax. But not in just in a calming way, in a way that has Hunter dropping his guard, his fine clothes, his table manners...his accent.
"C'mon, Hunt," Shawn hums, pressing his lips to Hunter's back. "I want you inside me. I want to ride your dick, man, c'mon."
"You took me this morning, do you really need another good fuck?" Hunter asks, dropping the last dregs of his accent when he smiles. Instead, he speaks in the voice he was born with - a rough, kind of deep voice. The kind of voice no one who wears fine clothes wears. The voice of the men who would shine his shoes and fit his suits.
Hunter's voice.
"This morning was fourteen whole hours ago!" Shawn whines, hands slipping up Hunter's front. Hunter feels his fingers glide over his abs, up along his chest, which Shawn holds firmly. When Shawn grips Hunter's chest tight, Hunter inhales sharply, biting back a moan. He feels Shawn smiling behind him, and those small hands squeeze his chest again, thumbing his nipples once.
"Fuck," Hunter breathes out, eyes shifting shut.
"C'mon, Hunt. Open up the curtains, fuck me up against the window, make everyone down there jealous," Shawn coos, kissing Hunter's spine.
"I'm not doing that," Hunter pants, although it does sound nice. Fictional. In his head, the safety of his imagination. He would fuck Shawn against the window, no one would see, they'd be safe but enjoy the rush.
But no. He couldn't let go of that last thread of control.
"Huunt!" Shawn whines, and Hunter huffs, turning around and grabbing Shawn's arms, pinning them to his sides. "Nooo, c'mon! We were being so sexy!" Shawn wiggles a bit, pouting, bratty.
Hunter huffs and tries to keep his cool, but Shawn's pushing. And pushing. Wiggling out of Hunter's arms, a hand slipping down the front of Hunter's briefs, grabbing him through the thin fabric. The moment Shawn's warm hand covers Hunter's cock, the younger man shoots Shawn an angry look.
"A gentleman doesn't simply grab another man's dick," he scolds in a measured tone. Shawn lifts a brow with a smirk and he steps forward, giving Hunter a gentle squeeze. Hunter's lower belly tenses, pleasure shooting up his cock, but he tries ignoring it.
"Well, then, I'm being very ungentlemanly. I ought to be punished," Shawn teases, wiggling his brows and pressing up against Hunter's front. "You need to show me how to behave. I can tell I'm upsetting you, I see that little vein in your neck." Shawn lifts a finger and traces down Hunter's neck, humming gently.
Hunter huffs. Shawn's impossible when he's like this - either Hunter fucks him, or Shawn pouts and just jacks off in the shower. Shawn would try harder before that - he would push, he would prod, he would poke. He would pull at Hunter's threads just because it was funny to watch the aristocrat come undone.
Some days, Shawn got under his skin in the worst way. Some days, Hunter almost looked forward to Shawn snuggling up inside Hunter's nerves, resting against them. Hunter making space for Shawn inside him, letting him see all his buttons, learning which to push.
Shawn's hand slips down Hunter's cock, grinding his palm against him and still pouting. He reaches a hand up and tugs at Hunter's hair, yanking until Hunter's jaw is set firm, until the black bow is undone from Hunter's ponytail and it all falls around his face. Shawn smiles.
"There's my Hunter."
Hunter furrows his brows, then grabs Shawn by the hair and yanks him back. Shawn's eyes go wide, looking up at him with hope and slight surprise. Hunter combs his hair back with his fingers to keep it out of his face, wanting it to be at least somewhat neat, somewhat kept.
Although, he has to admit. He likes when it's free. He likes when it slips through his fingers and eases the tension on his skull. It feels...new.
"You want Hunter?" he asks Shawn, and lets go of Shawn's hair, shoving him back hard until Shawn hits the bed. The younger, larger man stands at the end of the bed and adds, "You're not getting a gentleman. I don't think you deserve that."
"What am I getting, then?" Shawn asks on a breath, a smile slowly winding onto his face. Hunter pauses a moment, then, hooking a thumb under the band of his briefs, Hunter smirks back. Something loosens in his chest, and like the undoing of the bow, it releases a lot of tension. It loosens Hunter.
"A good fuck."
Shawn’s smile turns into beaming, and he scrambles happily up the bed until his head is on the pillows. Once he’s up there, he gives his hips a little wiggle and taps his feet on the bed. Too excited for his own good, and Hunter covers his mouth with his hand while he decides if he really wants to fuck this little cretin.
His body’s already made that choice, however, his cock half-hard from Shawn’s slow ministrations before. And though Shawn’s picking at his nerves, he’s also laying prone for him, his legs open, strong thighs looking perfect in the dim hotel light. His cock his growing, filling out slowly against his belly from just looking at Hunter. And so, Hunter hooks his thumbs in his briefs and shucks them down, then crawls onto the bed.
“That’s it, c’mon. You’re not such a gentleman, are you?” Shawn breathes, wrapping an arm around Hunter’s neck. He drags Hunter down, lips pressing up against his, tongue slipping out to trace Hunter’s teeth.
And maybe Hunter isn’t a gentleman.
Maybe, at the end of the day, it was a stupid gimmick. A stupid gimmick that he let get to his head, a dumb pitch that he bought into full-force and tried changing his whole life for it. Maybe this was never the guy he was.
And maybe Shawn knew that all along.
Hunter moans as Shawn wraps his legs around his hips and grinds up against him. Hunter pushes back down, pinning Shawn’s hips with his own, his hands coming to grab Shawn’s wrists.
“Do it,” Shawn breathes against Hunter’s lips. “Pin me down. Don’t be such a gentleman.”
It was a stupid gimmick.
It wasn’t who he was.
Hunter growls against Shawn’s lips - actually growls, a quick noise, as he pins Shawn’s hands to the bed above hie head and holds them together with one hand. His second hand reaches between Shawn’s legs and prods over his entrance, dipping two fingers in right away. Shawn’s lips part and he lets out a shaky breath as Hunter pumps his fingers a couple times, finding Shawn still loose and open from this morning.
Something about that lights a match inside Hunter. He pushes in a third finger and Shawn’s body takes it easily, making the older man gasp quietly.
“You’re loose,” Hunter hums, pumping his fingers a couple times until he starts to crook them, pressing them up against a soft patch of nerves inside Shawn.
“Oh!” Shawn shouts, hips bucking up and body clenching around Hunter’s fingers. Hunter smirks and rubs that spot again, watching how Shawn’s head falls back and his thighs grip his hips. Clear pre is pouring out of Shawn now, dripping down his hip and pooling in his groin. Hunter milks Shawn like this for a moment, fascinated at how his body responds to slight manipulations.
Eventually, though, it becomes too much for Shawn, who starts to whimper softly and beg,
“Please, Hunt, I- I need you in me. I need you in me so bad.”
Hunter smirks and pushes against that spot inside Shawn again, taking a new satisfaction in how Shawn’s hips snap up, how his head falls back, how he makes a desperate whimper. His hands flex under Hunter’s larger hand, prompting Hunter to squeeze harder.
“Stop moving,” Hunter huffs, and Shawn swallows thickly, legs clenching around Hunter’s hips.
“Hunt,” Shawn whines, looking up at his best friend with glossy eyes and a flushed chest. Hunter tosses his hair over his shoulder and leans down, crushing Shawn with a searing kiss. He licks his way past Shawn’s teeth, tracing his gums, his molars, curling the tip of his tongue along the roof of Shawn’s mouth. Shawn whimpers as Hunter does this, and so the larger man does it again, this time earning a moan.
He slips his fingers out of Shawn, feeling the smaller man shiver under him. The gentlemanly thing would be to slowly enter Shawn like this, to do all the work like he normally does, to take him nice and slow and easy. The gentlemanly thing to do.
It was all a stupid gimmick.
Hunter grabs Shawn by his hips and flips them over, laying on his back with Shawn sitting on his hips. Shawn gasps and his hands scramble when Hunter lets them go, instantly finding purchase on Hunter’s chest. He squeezes hard, barely missing a beat as he grinds his hips down on Hunter.
“I have to do all the work?” Shawn breathes, sounding only slightly annoyed. And that annoyance makes Hunter smile, laying an arm above his head, his other hand gripping Shawn’s hip.
“You wanted to get fucked so bad. Let’s go,” Hunter urges with a little lilt in his voice. Shawn hums in his throat, pausing as he pushes up to look into Hunter’s eyes. Beautiful blue eyes look down into brown, and Hunter feels his heart beat skip just a little bit. And when Shawn smiles, Hunter feels his face heat up. And for a second they slow down, and Hunter chuckles, and Shawn giggles, and they take a quiet moment to press their foreheads together.
“I like you mean,” Shawn says, and Hunter inhales sharply as Shawn punctuates his sentence by reaching a hand back and grabbing Hunter by his cock. “Fuck, I need you. Let’s go. Let’s- oh...yeah, Hunt,” Shawn breathes, sitting back and pushing Hunter’s tip inside himself.
When his head pops past that tight ring of muscle, Hunter moans and digs his nails into Shawn’s hip, his other hand coming up to grasp the other hip.
“You’re fucking warm,” Hunter groans, helping to push Shawn down, slipping inside his warm body. They pant heavily together as Shawn finally sits fully on Hunter’s hips, then rocks back up with a painful slowness. Shawn moves slow at first, and Hunter lets him. This doesn’t feel like he’s being a ‘gentleman,’ it feels like he’s letting his friend adjust, watching how beautiful Shawn’s face can be as it shifts between a tight pain and a blissful pleasure.
After a few minutes of this, though, Hunter feels Shawn loosening, and he starts picking up his pace. Hunter stares in breathless awe at Shawn’s tight body as it bounces on his dick - thick thighs that flex with every move, a firm chest that expands and shrinks when he slams himself down, petal-pink lips parted as filthy moans slip out of him. His smaller cock slaps Hunter’s belly when Shawn sits down, leaving thick clear smears of pre behind.
“You’re so...fucking big,” Shawn pants, head hanging. “Fuck, I feel you in my belly.”
“Oh yeah?” Hunter encourages, swallowing past a dry mouth. He keeps his grip tight on Shawn’s hips and helps him, starting to thrust his hips up to meet Shawn halfway. Shawn cries out, voice cracking when Hunter finally hits that sweet spot inside him. Shawn leans back, hands scrambling until he wraps his arms back around Hunter’s legs and digs his nails into the backs of his thighs. This new angle lets Hunter just hold Shawn in place and start snapping his hips up, fucking right up against Shawn’s prostate.
“Hunt! Fuck- ah!” Shawn cries out, cock twitching as Hunter makes it bounce. “I’m- I-ah...’m close, Hunt, I’m almost there, I’m...like...oh, fuck...I’m right there-!”
“Touch yourself,” Hunter demands, not slowing down, not wanting to let go of Shawn’s hips. Shawn looks at Hunter with wide eyes, but quickly grasps himself, pumping his cock quick and sloppy. “Fuck, Shawn. You should see how you look,” he pants heavily, watching Shawn desperately touch himself, body jerking as Hunter fuck him fast and hard.
Until, finally, Hunter feels a tensing in his lower gut. He thrusts a few more times, hard, keeping himself sheathed inside Shawn for a few seconds then pulling back. Thrusting, then pulling back.
“Hunter-!” Shawn shouts, but his words are clipped by a cry as white chords rain down on Hunter’s lower stomach. His body spasms around Hunter, squeezing him tight until Hunter can’t keep thrusting. He’s weak as he fills Shawn, simply yanking Shawn down to sit fully on him and just rocking his hips. He fills Shawn, shaking as his orgasm rolls through him.
Hunter relaxes when he feels himself finish, head falling back. Shawn stays leaning back against Hunter’s legs for a few more moments, then he slowly leans forward, crawling off Hunter’s cock. Hunter shivers a bit and he moans as he slips out of Shawn, missing the warmth of his body.
“Shawn.” He reaches a hand up and finds Shawn laying beside him. He rolls over onto his side and pulls Shawn up against him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You good?”
Shawn nods and looks up at Hunter’s face, a lazy smile on his lips. He presses against Hunter’s front, making them both a mess. Instead of curling his nose at the sticky feeling on his stomach, he finds himself chuckling.
“We’re messy,” he chuckles.
“Shower? We’ll conserve water if we do it together,” Shawn suggests, wiggling his brows. Hunter rolls his eyes and lightly pushes Shawn’s face away, sitting up as Shawn complains.
“C’mon! You were being so much fun!” Shawn exclaims, scrambling off the bed. Hunter laughs as Shawn catches him, throwing his arm around Hunter’s waist and shuffling along behind him as Hunter makes for the bathroom. “Don’t get all stodgy now! You were so hot! And you dropped that dumb accent!”
Hunter pauses when Shawn says that, both now in the bathroom. He turns his head and sees himself in the mirror - hooked nose. Imperfect skin. His once-tamed hair is now down around his face, messed by Shawn and the pillow. His lips are red and kiss-swollen. His eyes are a brighter brown than they were just that morning. And Shawn’s arms look nice wrapped around Hunter’s waist.
Hunter never looked in a mirror and saw a stranger, and yet, somehow, he finally feels as though he recognizes the reflection.
“Hunt?” Shawn asks, and Hunter sees Shawn lifting his head from Hunter’s back in the mirror.
“Yeah,” Hunter says, turning and smiling down at Shawn. “...Hey, buddy.”
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90's Taker x Shawn Beauty and the Beast au
That's it. I need to work on this.
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WWF Wrestlers Personality Profiles
Glad to know that one of Hunter Hearst Helmsley's hobbies are: "faster women"
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“You’re gutless!”
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I was supposed to do my homework right now but I saw this and I just had to write about it.
So. Basically. Kayfabe wise, Diesel was a trucker that Shawn met and immediately made him his bodyguard. Diesel is Shawn's protector of some sorts, dragging Shawn away from situations that would end up possibly killing the guy. They share a brain cell, mostly Diesel controls the brain cell. They're affectionate idiots and simps for one another
I'm really not even scratching the surface lmao so mutuals, feel free to add more
But in a nutshell, their whole relationship is basically:
For the Valentine's Day game, thoughts on the two dudes with attitudes: Diesel and Shawn Michaels?
Because istg I saw this gif of them where Shawn was ready to kiss Diesel on the cheek or something but he stopped at the last second and whispered in his ear instead. Literally, his hand was ready to cup Diesel's face but he stopped himself and awkwardly placed it on his shoulder instead. That gif lives in my mind rent free
forgive me im still working on these valentine's day asks shdgfhjsdgj
so i am still very baby mark......i didnt watch back then aksjdghsjdgfj and i havent really gone and watched much of the wwf. but diesel and shawn were very pretty very handsome and i can def see how they were very adorably cute <3 no idea what their relationship would be like though.
if any of my more experienced mark friends have an idea of what their relationship would be like or what they'd do on valentine's day, please reblog and write it so i can read it bc im very very interested <3 👀
#ramblings#brats the both of them#there's more to this dynamic but I just can't seem to think about it more
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It's 1:58 am and I have the sudden feminine urge to draw men in corsets
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🦌🗡 “oh no…. That’s hot”
Also a quick Shawn Muse and Matt Muse meeting up is like “same hat 🤝”
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