davidshawnsown

[davidshawnsown]

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ warfare ⋮ Tommy x f!reader ⋮ fluff ⋮ drabble ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

you were sound asleep, breathing slow and steady, your mouth slightly open as you drooled against Tommy’s arm. he didn’t mind. if anything, it made his lips twitch into the softest smile. you laid on your side with your cheek tucked against his arm, Tommy was right behind you, chest flush against your back, one arm curled beneath your head and the other wrapped securely around your waist like he was afraid to let go. you legs were tangled together under the covers, his bare feet brushing yours with every slight shift

he felt the damp patch cooling against his bicep. he huffed a quiet laugh through his nose, you’d be embarrassed if you knew. he hoped you wouldn’t notice in the morning

this. you. was supposed to be the good part. coming home, sleeping in a bed again, holding the person he loved, feeling safe. this was what people always said would fix things

but it all started the same way every night.

Tommy’s breath hitched as the dream crept in

a hole in the wall, Elliott on the stacked mattresses, Frank somewhere in the corner, a flash of metal, the clatter of something bouncing once before it exploded

he could still feel how close he was, how it left his ears ringing, and shook him

the IED came after. that smoke, that silence that followed, the kind that wasn’t really silent at all, just filled with the buzz and mumble of his own scrambled head

he remembered it all.

his grip on you tightened unconsciously. just a little, the dream wasn’t letting up. his heart started to race, sweat collecting at his brow, his body suddenly feeling hot. he wanted to kick off the covers, rip them off even. but he didn’t want to wake you, didn’t want you to get cold

his body twitched in his sleep, the way it always did when the dream got too real, like his body was trying to run even while his mind was stuck. his palms were damp, the faintest ringing starting up in his ears, distant but sharp

and you were still sound asleep beside him.

until Tommy suddenly jerked upright with a strangled gasp, almost a choked off yell. the arm under your head yanked back too fast, startling, rough, but not on purpose. his whole body jolted awake

he sat there, hunched forward, one hand flat over his chest like he was trying to hold his heart in place, the other up against his forehead. the ringing was louder now, the throb in his head wouldn’t stop

“Fuck” he huffed voice raw

you sat up slowly, eyes still heavy with sleep, but soft with concern. you turned toward him, trying to figure out how bad it was, what to do, what to say

from the corner of his eye, Tommy saw you. his throat tightened at the sight of you looking at him like that. gentle, worried, still waking up

“Shit baby” he mumbled, not daring to look directly at you “I didn’t mean to. go back to sleep.”

Tommy didn’t want you seeing him like this. not shaking, not crying without tears, not waking up like he’d just come back from someplace that was his hell

he hated that you were seeing it now

he hated the look in your eyes. not pity, but tenderness. the kind that made it hard to believe he was really home

“Tommy…” you whispered, already reaching for him, fingertips brushing his arm

but he pulled away. not harsh, not in rejection. just a reflex

“I’m okay” he said voice strained, the words sitting wrong in his mouth “lay back down.”

he tried to soften it for you, tried not to sound as wrecked as he felt, but the crack in his voice gave him away

but you knew better. even if he never told you the details, the why or the how of it. you’d never forced him to talk, never demanded the full story. you didn’t need it

all you ever did was stay. and for Tommy, that was more than he knew how to ask for

so you laid back down like he asked, your body warm against the sheets, but your eyes open and on him

you watched the way his chest rose and fell too fast, like he couldn’t slow it down

you saw the way his eyebrows pulled tight, even with his eyes shut, like he was still stuck somewhere else

you caught the slight tremble in his fingers, the sweat clinging to his brow, the crease of a frown that tugged on his face

he sat there like that for a long while. silent and not really moving

and even though he told you to sleep, you knew he needed you more than he’d ever say

so you waited.

after a while, Tommy finally moved. slow, hesitant. like lowering himself back onto the bed was something he had to think about, something that cost him to do

when his back finally hit the mattress, he let out a shaky exhale, and his eyes stayed on the ceiling

“I’m sorry” he said quietly

barely a whisper and it nearly broke you

because Tommy didn’t have to apologize for a single thing. not for the nightmares, not for the shaking, not for waking you up. you would’ve stayed up all night if it meant he didn’t have to feel alone

still, to him, saying sorry felt like the right thing to do. like it was the only thing he could do for waking up his girl in the middle of the night with something he couldn’t even begin to explain

you leaned into him, resting your cheek gently against his shoulder, your hand finding his arm and rubbing slow, soothing circles along the skin

“I’ve got you” you whispered “You’re home.”

he moved a little, just enough to turn onto his side, facing you now. his eyes were softer but still tired

and you just looked at him. taking in the lines of his face, how they’d softened just slightly, how his breathing had slowed, how close he was now

you whispered little things to him, sweet things

words like “you’re safe” and “I’m here” and “you don’t have to say a word if you don’t want to.”

and slowly, he finally wrapped his arms around you again, tucking his face into the crook of your neck, nuzzling there like that was the only place in the world where he could breathe right

you felt the softest murmurs against your skin “I’m sorry…” and “I’m okay…”

like he needed to say it enough times to believe it

and you held him through every word against your skin, until the shaking stopped, until his breathing matched yours, until he was asleep again in your arms.

everytime i remember how he was just THE NEW GUY and how close he was to the grenade and IED my day gets ruined 💔.

@babble28 @livelaughl0ve3 @bradleybeachbabe @sharpayslilo @iron-rot @irrelevantsnowy @joelmeller @willowpains @k-pevensie28 @violetcamryn @bib200 @luna-sungirl @nerdgirlbutinpink @f4nfic-lover @k-ilisi @https-junebug @glassbxttless @gallaghrh @samslvrgirl @vinecstasy @illyrianbrat @pr3ttygrlz

[davidshawnsown]

squad goals: charles melton, kit connor, d’pharaoh woon-a-tai, will poulter, joseph quinn for Entertainment Weekly cover shoot

[davidshawnsown]

i miss bc freshman line... those silly little obsessively attached gay boys haunt me.. they come to me like angry spirits at 3 am.. they tell me to man up and write it.. be the change you wish to see in the world or smth like that..

[davidshawnsown]

hi pls do nesting 5+1 pls. thank you

Of course!! Thank you for the ask ❤️ I’ve answered with a small snip here but I love this wip a lot and you were v kind so here��s a little more!

“- The point of the thing is, like… so, if a goalie is going to gain an impulse, it presents at puberty, right? Not everyone will, but those that do, that’s when it happens - except, apparently, in fucking Missouri!”

There’s a few noises around the room. Some curious, some more of a yeah, right vibe. Matthew doesn’t pay them much attention. His whole focus is on the warmth of Joseph tucked against his chest, and the soft pleased hums he’s making every time Matthew strokes his thumb over the back of his hand. 

“Listen, I know, okay! Crazy! But apparently something happens in Missouri where they don’t get their impulse early, but in their 20’s their body, like, snaps and it develops super fucking fast and it can be a nightmare.”

“Wait, so he’s going through goalie puberty?!” Willy yelps, and is immediately smacked by at least four people.

“Basically, yeah! A-and because it’s so delayed, their body overcompensates? They’ll have an impulse, like, once a month for a while until some hormone is balanced or whatever, I didn’t understand the biology part.”

Joseph nuzzles deeper into Matthew as he shakes his head, whispering something that sounds like just a rumour. Matthew keeps petting down his arm, determined to keep him calm while he asks, “So this is gonna happen monthly? For how long?”

Lorentz sighs, tugging on his T-shirt. “Honestly? Chucky says it can go for up to a year, it all depends on how quickly he can adapt to the change.”

[davidshawnsown]

Requests are OPEN for the following wrestlers

Hangman Adam Page

Kenny Omega

Nicholas Jackson

David Finlay

Drilla Maloney

Clark Connors

Chuck Taylor

AEW CM Punk

Christian Cage

Jay White

El Phantasmo

[davidshawnsown]

i know we all decided on willmack and i have no issues (!!!) but i just have to say wacklin is so fucking funny to me because yes these boys are indeed wack (affectionately)

[davidshawnsown]

Show off

Zack Sabre Jr x Reader (Gender not stated)

Main Masterlist Zack Sabre Jr Masterlist

An: I have no idea how this got lost in my inbox, whoops. Better late than never

Requested by: @chlo915 The reader is Will Ospreay’s sibling. Zack and Will are constantly at each other’s throats for their upcoming match and the reader is always stuck in the middle of them and Zack is always flirting with the reader and Will can't stand it. During the match, Zack is flirting and showing off to the reader by using their moves against Will.

I was growing tired of the constant bickering between Will and Zack. For months, they had been at each other's throats. For years, there had been tension between the two. They were always fighting for the number one spot in New Japan Pro Wrestling, and I always found myself in the middle of it. At one point in time, Zack and I had been friends, some might say more than that. Will and Zack would each come to me to complain about the other. They thought I could and would fix all of their problems. It quickly got old. Every time they fought, Zack swore it would be the last time. That after this, everything would be water under the bridge. But of course, that was never true. Will simply couldn't see anyone else at the top but him. For a while, it was quiet, it was content. I was stupid enough to think it would last.

When Zack won the IWGP World Heavyweight Championship, everyone was happy for him. He spent so many years giving his heart and soul to this company; he deserved it. The night he won, we celebrated. I should have known that the celebration would be cut short. Just then, Will and the rest of the United Empire entered the club Zack and I were at. What was supposed to be a night of fun and celebration quickly turned into one of jealousy and fighting.

"Bruv, what the hell do you think you are doing here with Y/n?" Will yelled as he approached Zack and me. "Can we not do this right now?" I yelled back at him. Just then, a brawl broke out. "I've had enough of you two. I am tired of being stuck in the middle of whatever this is. For years, you have been at each other's throats, and I've had enough." I just couldn't handle it anymore, so I left.

Zack followed after me. "Y/n, wait!" He yelled out. "What? What is it now, Zack? I'm so sick and tired of this-" Just then, he caught me off guard with a kiss. "What the fuck Zack!" "I know I've said this a hundred times, but I truly mean it when I say this is the last time. I can't let you slip away from me again. Next week I'll fight Will for the last time. When I beat him, he's gone. Gone for good. He will be out of New Japan, and we can finally have some peace and quiet." I didn't know what to say. "Please, Y/n, I need you to trust me on this one. I love you. "I love you, too, Zack. This better be the end."

Will and Zack were scheduled to meet for the supposed last time a week after the incident at the club. That week was hell. Sure, Will was my brother but there is only so much you can take. I would have cut him out of my life ages ago if we didn't work in the same company. Before I knew it, the week was up, and Zack and Will were scheduled to fight in just a few hours. I woke up early that morning, unable to sleep, and I walked around the streets of Tokyo to clear my mind. The sun had yet to rise, the drunks had cleared the streets, and the early birds were yet to rise. It was peaceful. I knew that, regardless of what would happen later that day, everything would change. I knew I had to remain unbiased throughout this whole situation, but it was hard. I didn't know how I would be able to sit at a commentary table and call this match straight down the middle, pretending like this wasn't killing me internally.

****

The fight was bloody and brutal. By now, everyone knew the hatred these two had for each other. Every time you thought it was over, it wasn't. It was impossible to predict a winner; the match could have gone to anyone. Kevin Kelly ended up calling most of the brawl, as I was struggling to find words. Throughout the match, Zack kept looking over to the commentary table. Making sure to give me some kind of signal to indicate that he was okay, that we would be okay. Both men had to dig deep, going to places they hadn't gone before. Trying new moves they had never done before. "It looks like Zack Sabre Jr is taking some moves out of Y/n's arsenal." Kevin Kelly said to the viewers at home. He's using my moves? I thought to myself. For a technical wrestler, I was surprised to see Zack incorporate many lucha libre moves; it was unusual. I knew what he was doing, I just hoped it would work.

Zack then looked over to me for the last time, saying, "This one's for you, Y/n." I felt my breath get caught in my throat. "It looks like Zack might be going for Fisherman's Driver," I said in disbelief. My finishing move. It was like everything was moving in slow motion as I watched Zack lift Will up into the air, holding him high above the ring before driving his head down into the mat. That has to be it.

1......2......3........ it was over. This war was over. Zack was declared the winner of the match. I threw my headrest to the side as I jumped into the ring to celebrate with Zack. I couldn't help the tears that fell from my eyes. Zack gently wiped them away with the pad of his thumb. Placing a delicate kiss on my forehead, he said, "It's over now. Everything is going to be okay." Looking down, I could see how devastated Will was. He had lost everything. I didn't know what would happen next, but I didn't need to know. Regardless of what the future held, I knew it would be okay. All I needed was Zack; with him by my side, I knew we would be able to take on anything.

[davidshawnsown]

If I can ramble for a bit:

I think Connor would thrive on physical touch but hes been too stubborn to ever fully indulge in it. And Spencer would be gentle (sort of like Nico) and wait to see if Connor will ever ask for what he needs.

Spoiler alert: he does not

So after a rough loss Spencer walks Connor up to his apartment and he can see how Connor is on the edge of a drop. He sits on Connors couch and Connor carefully sits on the other end but Spencer can see how Connors hands are shaking and his breath is coming out like a rabbit.

Normally he wouldnt do it but Spencer says fuck it and drags Connor onto his lap and holds him. It only takes a second for Connors shoulders to drop and turn his face into Spencers neck and tentatively wrap his arms around Spencer

Eyeing this to see if I can work something like it into my current fic...

[davidshawnsown]

Hi!

I posted about this last night, but in case you missed it, I updated my story, HEART HIDING IN PLAIN SIGHT, with chapter three. Next update should come a little quicker!

Here’s the blurb:

It’s not like Luke doesn’t know what he is. Oh, he knows; he’s always known. They call his dynamic omegaF, which sounds like a hormone supplement but is just the stupid name the world landed on for guys like him: Omegas born with both male and female anatomy.

Don’t get Luke wrong—he’s a guy all the way. He’s just one who can get knocked up.

He’s been hiding in plain sight his whole hockey life. But this time, someone’s watching—and they see everything.

***

PS I’m going to finish the final chapter of OMEGA BOYS soon! 💜

[davidshawnsown]

Chapters 3, 4, and 5 are up!

Buckle up for mental spiraling, references to Titanic (1997), sad flashbacks, and unexpected conversations with potential future in-laws. 

Chapters: 5/? Fandom: Men’s Hockey RPF Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Macklin Celebrini/Will Smith (b. 2005) Characters: Macklin Celebrini, Will Smith (Hockey RPF b. 2005), Mike Grier, Ryan Warsofsky, San Jose Sharks NHL Team Ensemble Additional Tags: Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Coming Out, Denial of feelings in that they admit to having feelings just not the full extent, Refusing to define the relationship until you absolutely have to

Full Summary:

“Even Patty and Jumbo got split up, Mack!” Grier says, exasperated. “You two aren’t immune. I know it’s a tough pill to swallow, but trades happen. This is hockey–-”

“Well, Patty and Jumbo weren’t fucking!” Mack interrupts, voice loud and sardonic.

The room goes still, and finally, so does Macklin. He freezes, his face paling as he realizes what he just said. What he just did.

“I’m not doing it,” Mack says quietly, shaking his head. “I’m not playing without him.”

[davidshawnsown]

NSFW Alphabet with Drilla Moloney

WARNING: EXPLICIT CONTENT 18+

NSFW Alphabet Masterlist Main Masterlist

Requested by: @purplegurl30

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Drilla is a man of few words. Often, he appreciates the aftercare more than the sex itself

Before you, sex to him was nothing more than a form of release. He never cared about satisifying others only himself.

You where diffrent, like no one had expected before

He worships your body, holding you close as he praises you. Telling you how much he loves you and meansto him

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Drilla spends hours in the gym every day to perfect his physique

He takes most pride in his arms

He loves the look of his muscular arms around your waist

He could never pick a favrouite part on you

He loves absolutley everything about you

He loves your curves and they way your body perfecticaly molds into his like a puzzle piece

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Drilla loves the sight of his seed pouring out of you

He loves to cum inside of you

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I have a feeling that Drilla has a secret mommy kink

I don't know why I feel that way, I just do

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Drilla knows exactly what he is doing

He know exactly how to please you, he always knows what you need without you even having to say anything

He swears he knows your body better than his own

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying.)

Missionary: Although it's basic he loves the sight of you being underneith him as he holds you close, pounding into you like his life depended on it

Cowgirl: He loves the sight of you riding him

Doggystyle

Reverse cowgirl

Valedictorian: From missionary position, the receiver raises their legs and extends them straight out (forming a “V” above their head, often resting on partners shoulders)

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Dispite being a player on the streets he's a very serious man in the sheets

However he is not afraid to crack a joke when needed

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc)

Well trimmed

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

He's a big cheesy romantic

I can definitely see him setting up candles, roses and champagne

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

It's like he's a teenage boy

He Masterbates at least once a day

Multiple if he is stressed or missing you

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Mommy kink

Praise kink

breeding kink

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

In the shower

The beach

and of course in the comfort of his own home

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

He gets turned on very easily

All you have to do is look at him a certain way and he's instanly hard

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that might harm you

He is often worried he might hurt you by mistake

He forgets how large he is in comparrison to you

He has a higher pain tollerance than you, he has huge muscles. He forgets how much stronger he is

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He LOVES to eat you out

It's one of his favrouite things to do

He loves the taste of you on his tounge and the sweet sounds you make as you come undone

He will never pass up the opportunity to recieve but he much prefers to give it

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Drilla is a mixture of both depending on his mood

He likes to take his time making you come undone while also ruining you

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

They are not his favrouite but sometimes he needs a quick good luck fuck before a big match

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He is not afraid to take a risk or two👀

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Drilla could go all day if he wanted

His stamina is unmatched

He's often requires more than one round in order to be satsisfied

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He definitely has a few toys and he's not affraid to use them

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is a big tease and he likes to be teased back

V = Volume (How loud they are)

He is definitely on the louder side 🫣

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Click the link to see one of my fav fics I wrote that just to happens to be about Drilla Read Here!

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

7 inches

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It is VERY high, like questionably high

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) 

He falls asleep fairly quickly

[davidshawnsown]

Yk the thing where if a cat falls asleep in your lap, you feel like you can’t move/disturb them? Can you do a ficlet where Mack falls asleep on top of Will so he’s stuck? And like Will cancels plans with Toff bc of it. Teasing ensues of course

(Maybe abo?)

cute cute cute!! i went with abo! this is omega mack and alpha will :) 🩵

Mack falls asleep on him mid-movie, which, honestly, isn’t unusual. What’s unusual is the sound.

Will freezes the moment he hears it. A soft, rhythmic hum vibrating low against his chest, right over his sternum, where Mack has somehow ended up sprawled across him like a weighted blanket in a hoodie. His cheek’s pressed to Will’s t-shirt, nose tucked just below Will’s collarbone, one arm slung limply across his stomach.

And he’s purring.

Like. Actually purring.

Will doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. He cranes his neck slowly to glance down and, yep, there it is—Macklin Celebrini, most competitive rookie in the league, secret overthinker, alpha-annoying overachiever, dead asleep and purring softly like some oversized, exhausted cat.

“Oh my god,” Will whispers.

He’s never heard it before. Has only read about it in those late-night forums where other alphas post things like “My omega purred for the first time, what does it mean?” and a hundred strangers show up to say things like “He trusts you” or “You’re his safe space now.”

Will’s heart does something strange and soft in his chest.

Mack had been running himself into the ground lately. First one on the ice. Last one off. More reps than anyone, more tape to study, always trying to prove that being drafted top wasn’t a fluke. Will had tried to say something, once or twice, but Mack would just blink at him and say, “I’m fine,” even when he looked like he hadn’t slept in a week.

Apparently he just needed to crash.

And he chose Will to do it on.

The movie drones on. Will can’t even remember what it is—something Delly recommended, probably, some weird true crime documentary that neither of them were paying attention to after the first ten minutes. Will’s phone buzzes on the coffee table, and he just barely manages to stretch his free arm and snag it without jostling Mack.

Toff

yo u guys still coming or what

Will glances down. Mack snuffles softly in his sleep, face smushed against Will’s chest like a pillow he never wants to give up. His purr thrums steadily through Will’s ribs, warm and weirdly hypnotic.

He types back with one hand.

Will

can’t. mack is asleep on top of me and he’s purring.

The dots appear almost instantly. Then:

Toff

Lmaooo

Toff

U are literally a mattress now congrats

Toff

God i hope you have to pee

Toff

I’m telling Eky. This is gold.

Will rolls his eyes and gently puts his phone down, shifting just enough to tuck a throw blanket over Mack’s back. He doesn’t wake. Just nuzzles a little deeper, purr hitching for a second before settling again.

Will exhales slowly.

He could move. Technically. But Mack looks peaceful in a way he almost never does—not even post-game, not even in their quietest moments—and Will would rather be buried alive under six feet of offensive zone drills than risk disturbing that.

So he stays put. Lets his arm curl a little tighter around Mack’s back. Threads his fingers into the soft fabric of Mack’s hoodie, just to keep them there. He even closes his eyes for a while, content to be still, to feel every little vibration of trust and comfort humming through him like a lullaby.

Eventually, Mack stirs.

It’s subtle. A twitch of fingers. A sleepy exhale. His nose scrunches slightly against Will’s shirt before he lifts his head, blinking slowly like he’s forgotten where he is.

“…Did I fall asleep?”

Will smiles. “Yeah. You were purring.”

Mack goes still.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“You were. Like, full-on motorboat mode.”

“I don’t purr.”

“Babe,” Will says, grin stretching wider. “You made me cancel our plans with Toff because I couldn’t move. You purr.”

Mack groans and drops his face back down onto Will’s chest. “Kill me.”

“Never,” Will says cheerfully. “You felt safe. It was cute as hell.”

“You’re the worst.”

“You love me.”

A long pause.

Then, muffled: “Shut up.”

Will kisses the top of his head.

♡

[davidshawnsown]

Help A Writer Out Please!!

As it says on the tin, I need some help with something, and that's where you all come in! I wanna do a Pens Core WEC AU of some sort in the future, and have no idea what car to put them in aside from a Hypercar. So...

They'll all be in the same car, since that's how WEC works, but I just have no idea what team to put them in.

[davidshawnsown]

With A24’s Warfare being an incredibly realistic depiction of the battlefield and HBO’s The Pitt being the same but for the ER, I was wondering if we’re eventually going to get a realistic show about the legal field. None of the stylized stuff from shows like Suits or Better Call Saul, just straight up reality.

But then I realized, that would be one of the most boring shows on TV ever lol. You know what that would be like? You go to the office, spend hours on a laptop reading files and replying to clients, and then you go home. Every now and then you go to the courthouse, but it’s mainly just people sitting around and talking. Sometimes it takes 30+ minutes for the hearing to start since the judge is late or their previous case went over time. And sometimes, the courtroom stuff is just the attorneys asking for a continuance of the case, which means you’re only in the room for like ten minutes. Maybe even less.

(Source: me, a paralegal who has worked for two law firms in the past nine years / actually represented someone in court / soon-to-be-licensed attorney)

(Side note: If I HAD to pick my favorite depiction of the courtroom, it’d be either My Cousin Vinny or Extraordinary Attorney Woo. Yes, Daredevil exists, but the courtroom scenes in the original show still make me cringe a little lol)

[davidshawnsown]

Wyatt doesn’t realize it’s probably a trap until the second before Ty is clicking the sliding glass door closed. Separating them from all the noise inside.

It’s kind of funny, the way Ty rambles on and on, like there wasn’t a clear purpose for herding Wyatt out onto the balcony under the guise of getting some air. But Wyatt listens anyways. Let’s Ty go on and on about his trip to HEB, about how he missed the Katy Trail even though Wyatt knows for a fact Ty went there once with Nilsy and never went back. And he waits Ty out.

“So,” Ty starts, leaning his forearms against the balcony railing. The hot metal must be singeing his skin.

And Wyatt knows what he’s going to say before he even says it. He can see the play. A puck across dirty ice, no look, right to Wyatt’s tape.

It’s going to be a blazing Texas summer night. Some of Wyatt’s friends from back home would probably rip him a new one for saying shit like that. For knowing, for waiting for nights exactly like this. For allowing this to feel like home when that’s not what you’re supposed to do. When home is supposed to be home and the rest is…just supposed to be the rest. It’s supposed to be NHL hockey and Crosby on one night and McDavid on the other and all the other stuff in-between shouldn’t count.

All the indistinguishable sounds of everyone talking over each other, laughing, Logan’s god awful playlist that Julia had told him to turn off immediately, all of it leaking through the sliding glass doors behind them. The moment uncoils and takes up all the remaining space on the balcony. Wyatt wishes Ty wouldn’t ask but the thoughtful tilt to his mouth lets him know it’s definitely not even an option.

Wyatt wants to say, Stop leaning on the railing, you could fall. I read an article about that happening to some kid. And he wants Ty to say, Did you read an article or did you see a tik tok? Show it to me. The tik tok. And he doesn’t want Ty to ask, but-

“You and Thomas.”

The words hang there between them for a long moment, waiting for someone to pick them up. But the ball is now firmly in Wyatt’s court and all he had wanted to do tonight was hang out at his apartment with Ty, commandeer whatever time he had in Dallas the way Jake had said he would. Not, whatever the fuck this is.

Ty doesn’t push while Wyatt tries to remember how words work, just stays still, eyes fixed on something in the parking lot below like whatever is currently happening doesn’t particularly matter. Wyatt finally exhales. “What about me and Thomas?” he says, even though he fucking knows exactly what about him and Thomas.

“It’s not like…I mean. It’s not really like that.”

At that, Ty finally shift his gaze towards him. Eyes sharp, knowing. The orange tint of sundown almost makes him look sweet. “Like what?”

“Seriously?” Ty shrugs, like he knows already. Like he wants Wyatt to say it anyways because he’s an asshole.

Somewhere behind them someone must break something. The twinkling sound of shattered glass, Robo’s thundering laugh. Thomas asking for the broom or a vacuum. Like Oskar or any of them would own a vacuum.

Wyatt shifts, scooting in to lean on the railing. The hot metal singes his fucking skin. “It’s not like whatever we were doing.”

The hum of the encroaching night stretches in the small place between them. Wyatt can feel the heat coming off of Ty. Suddenly he wants to touch him so bad it feels impossible.

He doesn’t reach out. Doesn’t close the centimeter between everything and all he wants.

“Ah.” Ty says after a beat, voice sure and strong and he’s the most annoying guy Wyatt knows. “But it was still something, eh?”

Wyatt scoffs, can’t help it or hold it back. The smile that Ty gives him is good, kinda hot. He’s all farmers tan and off season scruff. They could have been home, or Wyatt’s home, he guesses. Instead of watching the kids get drunk of off fucking pink whitney. Wyatt would have pressed Ty into the soft cushions of their new couch, kissed him, probably. Got him off fast and stupid and messy. Definitely. Logan would have crucified the both of them in the morning but it would have been worth it.

“Yeah. It was something.”

Ty turns towards him fully now, his side leaning up against the railing. Wyatt would probably be able to catch them if the railing snapped. Or they would both plummet to their death.

“Okayyyyy. So you gonna tell me about it or? I gotta ask Jakey?”Ty asks like a dog with bone. All bark and mostly bite.

Wyatt glances over his shoulder, cringes when Logan somehow manages to catch his gaze immediately, eyes knowing. He’s smiling so Wyatt doesn’t feel too caught out.

“You can tell me if it's... a thing. If it was more than whatever we were doing." Ty clears his throat, taking up all the space where Wyatt should probably be saying literally anything. Ty’s fingers tap against the metal railing lightly, as if they’re just tracing the outline of something fragile. Wyatt wishes he didn’t notice all these useless little things.

“We hooked up. Nothing to write home about.”

Which is the truth and a lie and somehow it doesn’t even matter. If Thomas heard him say any of this he would probably laugh, because he would know. Because he knows. Knows the way Wyatt sounds when he’s over sensitive and at the brink of too much, telling Thomas to keep going anyways. Because he knows whatever embarrassing horrificly needy noises Wyatt makes when they’ve been making out for 15 minutes and Thomas’ shitty beard is starting to rub his skin raw. Because he knows what Wyatt’s body feels like when he’s amped and ready to go after conditioning and too much pre workout, when Wyatt feels itchy under his skin and nothing helps the feeling except Thomas pressing him up against the kitchen counter while Logan is picking up their Chipotle. And he knows Wyatt’s body when it’s exhausted and pliant after a double header and a flight to Calgary.

And none of it matters because Ty will always know just a bit more than all of that. Somehow. Someway. Even after everything. Years of it and now miles and miles of it between them.

Ty laughs, a too bright noise against the bumbling sound of cicadas and the apartments sprinkle system kicking on. “Woof. Forgot you were a tough customer, Johnny.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Wyatt lets his head hang forward, feels the way his smile pulls uncomfortably across his chapped lips.

There is a plane ticket on Ty’s phone that Wyatt wishes he could ignore. 5AM flight to some fucking where that wasn’t with Wyatt because some of the guys from San Jose set up a fishing trip and Ty wasn’t going to miss it. For two days from now. Practically nothing, seconds, in the grand scheme of all the time Wyatt thought he had back when he was 18 and a fucking idiot. It helps that Ty was kind of an idiot too.

Something pulls and sparks in Wyatt’s brain, neon lights. Front and center.

“What about you, huh, Del? You and uh, Eklund?”

And he says it like he isn’t sure, like he doesn’t know a cornerstone piece of whatever the fuck the sharks are doing. The future is teal and all that. He says it like he’s never met the kid in some peripheral way that all the guys in the show know each other. Because he’s a prick and mostly because it makes Ty laugh again. Which is kind of the point.

“Jesus. I’m starting to think you absolutely do not listen to a thing I say when we talk on the phone.”

“I see the videos of you guys or whatever. On twitter. I’m just saying. He seems nice.”

Ty rolls his eyes, playfull, takes a pull from his beer that no doubt is disgustingly lukewarm by now, his throat working. Wyatt really looks at him then, can’t not look at him. At the way his face shifts, all the sharp angles of him. Cataloging all the ways he’s changed since Wyatt last saw him. The horrible sweet relief he feels when there isn’t that much there for him to reorganize. It’s still just Ty.

“Nice? Huh. Yeah. Real sweet guy.” Ty says, laughter leaking through. “I must have a type or something.”

Wyatt feels like a teenage girl with a crush. Like he’s seconds away from doodling their names in a fucking notebook or something. And for a long second, all he can hear is the muted laughter from inside the apartment, the crackling sound of someone unable to pick a song and stick with it. The air between them is thick, hot and heavy, almost suffocating. And in the dimming light, with the hum of the city all around them, everything feels like a choice. To say something. To want everything.

“Are you coming back to mine?” Wyatt presses in, takes the extra step. It’s easier, lighter, when Ty pretty much immediately pushes back. The heat is almost unbearable but Wyatt can’t imagine stepping away.

Ty’s eyes flicker over Wyatt’s face, not searching, just looking. Wyatt didn’t know, before, how much Ty looked at him.

“Yeah. I would crash with Jake and Kennedi again but Robo told me he’s, uh, sleeping over there tonight. So, you know.”

Wyatt really hopes that no one inside has been paying attention to whatever spectacle they’ve been putting on. Especially not now, not when Wyatt feels cracked open a little. Not when Ty reaches over to get a pinky under the beaded bracelet a fan gave him during training camp, pulling at the elastic. Not when he doesn’t know what the hell his face is doing anymore.

“Lucky me.”

Ty leans in like he’s going to do something stupid. Like kiss Wyatt. He’s only a little disappointed when Ty inevitably ducks out of it at the last second.

“Yeah, bud. Lucky you.”

——

When his phone rings, Wyatt is absolutely tearing through the apartment looking for his car keys.

“Wow. It’s crazy how if you hung them up this wouldn’t even be an issue.” Logan snipes from somewhere in the kitchen, chewing on a spoonful of Lucky Charms.

There’s a crashing noise when Wyatt goes to open the coat closet. He immediately closes it back up and doesn’t turn around to look at whatever the fuck Logan is doing.

“Your phone is going off.” Logan shouts while Wyatt is digging through the clothes in the dryer.

Wyatt doesn’t even bother looking at who it is once he grabs his phone off the kitchen counter, hits accept before the call drops.

“You said you had PT.” Wyatt puts the phone between his ear and shoulder and listens to the loud muffled noises of Ty’s phone trying to connect to his car speaker.

“-oved it to tomorrow. Probably for the best. I feel like shit.”

Wyatt snorts. The keys are not in Logan’s damp and mildewy swim trunks, surprisingly. “Your arm almost got ripped out of its socket, Del. Of course you feel like shit. I don’t even know how they’re letting you drive.

“You sound busy. I can call back later. Or like tomorrow.”

Jake is going to kill him if he’s late to their tee time. Wyatt scrubs a hand down his face and tries to back track his steps in his head. “Kinda. Not really. I have to meet Jake but I can’t find my keys.”

“I have the right away you fucking idiot. Jesus Christ. Not even rush hour. Johnny. Listen. Are you listening?” There is so much movement on the other end that Wyatt can’t help but laugh out loud. He’s going to be fucking late.

“Yes, Del. I’m listening to you curse out every Californian on the road with you right now.”

He can picture Ty’s smile when he speaks. The way it overtakes his entire face. “Have you checked the ping pong table? In the little what are they called. The- the cup holders.”

All in all. It’s not really surprising when Wyatt reluctantly goes over to look and finds them in there.

“You freak me out sometimes, bud.” Wyatt says, bounding out of the apartment, shouting a quick goodbye to Logan as he goes. He can feel his phone buzzing with text. “Don’t hang up. Tell me about the PT. Are they making you take those meds that make you dizzy?”

——-

The post is kind of nothing for the most part. Some of the photos are over saturated with whatever filter Ty puts on them because he is perpetually using Instagram like it’s 2012.

It’s pretty much business as usual. Some hunting shots that make Wyatt involuntarily smile because he had already seen most of them. Ty peppering them in their text thread the day of. Asking Wyatt to send him pictures back even though Wyatt was doing nothing exciting. But he did it anyways. Sending shots of him and Lian at ikea, picking out furniture. Ty texting him back in intervals that did not feel normal for someone who was supposed to be out hunting.

nooo!!! i want meatballs too!!! and nice hoodie dork and you look cute bud :(

It was all kind of silly in a way that made Wyatt feel too big for his body.

And then there were shots from back at home. With his sister and the dogs rolling around at their feet. His parents at some fancy dinner, a wedding, from what Wyatt remembered hearing about. He screenshots the one with dogs and tries not to feel any which way about the growing collection in his album.

Typical shots of him and some of the guys from San Jose. Arms around each other at some golf course. All plush green grass and way too many sunburns to count. Ty looked ridiculous in his golf clothes. All a size too small.

So, it was nothing really. Wyatt felt kind of insane about it either way.

Mr. Worldwide 🌎

Is what he comments because he’s not thinking, and because he’s got nothing else, and because he can see the comments piling up from some sharks players. And well.

You’re an idiot 🤣😂 is what Jake texts him an hour later, a screenshot of his comment glaring back at him.

There was probably a few scathing things Wyatt could say back but Jake was currently boasting the stats of a stupidly hot fiancée and…Jason. So, Wyatt momentarily blocked him and let it be. Jason or Kennedi would text Wyatt to unblock him once Jake got annoyed about it enough.

“You could just say you miss me.” Is the first thing Ty says once Wyatt finally picks up his call after the 4th time.

Wyatt hangs up and calls right back

[davidshawnsown]

[davidshawnsown]

Hes so teenage girl coded