#thread:wyatt

[rn-zane]

TIMING: current SETTING: some club™ PARTIES: @loftylockjaw + @rn-zane + Leo the shithead fae (Bex) WARNINGS: domestic abuse mention SUMMARY: wyatt and zane make an honest attempt to help felix get out of their deal at the grit pit

At the end of the day, Felix, like Lockjaw and every other fighter who signed a contract, belonged to the Grit Pit.

A couple weeks of tailing this clown and Wyatt was itching to get to business. Whether or not Zane was picking up on his impatience, the lamia had talked him into confronting Leo tonight. They knew his haunts, so they knew where to wait. It wasn’t a long wait, either, the fae entering the club damn near exactly on time. Wyatt clenched his jaw as he locked eyes with Leo, lifting a hand and waving him over to their spot on the bar. They’d met one another in passing, never really sharing a conversation of any kind of substance, but Leo was certainly aware of Wyatt’s status as a Pit fighter. His knowledge of Wyatt’s fondness for Felix was unknown though, as the pair had thus far kept things pretty well on the down low. No reason to go inspiring the head honchos to make them fight one another, which was the most likely outcome of a more public friendship.

His hope here was that they’d be able to offer Leo something he wanted in exchange for the termination of Felix’s contract. But if it really came down to it, the lamia couldn’t promise anyone that he wouldn’t just try to bite the fucker’s head off, even in front of all these people. He wasn’t sure if Zane knew that, probably not, and that was probably a surprise best kept secret until it was time to pull it out. If. If it was time. Hopefully that time wouldn’t come. He did have something of a temper, though…

—

The waiting and surveying part had been fine. Wyatt was decent company and at least just by tailing someone, there was no way they would get Felix into trouble. Tonight, whether due to unrelated impatience or the fact that Zane had a really hard time not filling the silence out on their patrols, they’d left the safety of just watching. Zane had no idea how obvious it was that this was not his scene, surrounded by loud music and drunk people, muttering apologies to anyone who’d bumped into him on the way inside. At least it was public, less risk of a big blowout. 

His stomach lurched as he spotted Leo, smug looking and insufferable, his skin burning with equal parts anger and nerves. A part of him hoped the guy didn’t remember their last meeting, where Zane had seriously considered punching the man’s lights out, but there was no going back now. Besides, Wyatt would be doing most of the talking, a unanimous decision. Zane was bound to ramble out the wrong thing or start attempting to appeal to Leo’s humanity. Whether or not he had one was debatable. 

“Here goes nothing,” he breathed, glancing over at Wyatt looking cool as a cucumber. Zane reminded himself to ease the grip on his bottle of beer, still full but with the label all but peeled off. A prop but one that he was getting more and more tempted to take a sip from the closer Leo got to their table. 

—

It was hard work, doing what he did at the Grit Pit. The word binds were hard enough, but at least they were usually one-time things. You got someone bound once, with the right turn of phrase, and that was really all it took. Most of them were completely unaware until it was too late. That part was a little fun, really. But the wrangling part took a lot more effort than Leo tended to enjoy. After a long night of working his ass off maintaining a bunch of sniveling, dull, idiot fighters, he figured he’d earned a chance to blow off some steam. A little clubbing and bar-hopping was just the dessert he needed after a nice meal of euphoria from the crowd at the Pit, with the added bonus of being a fair bit more relaxing. 

At least, in theory. Not so much in practice when he glanced up to catch sight of one of his fighters beckoning him over. Leo rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat for a moment before relenting and hopping out of it. He might as well see what the fighter wanted, right? It wasn’t the worst case scenario, really; Wyatt wasn’t one of the whiny ones, at least. But the guy with him…

“I know you,” Leo raised his brow as he approached. “You’re the guy I caught with Felix in the boiler room. On to bigger and better things here?” He let his gaze slide lazily over to Wyatt, smirking a little. “Probably a step up. I can’t speak for Lockjaw here, but Fe gets a little tiresome after a while. So needy. It’s a bore.” He let his eyes lock with Wyatt’s, head tilting to the side slightly. “What do you need? I don’t really fraternize after hours, you know. Unless you’re buying me a drink. I can give you a hell of a night, if you’re nice.” He looked back to the other man with a wink. “That goes for the both of you.”

—

Leo's reaction to them wasn't wholly unexpected as far as Wyatt was concerned. Even the casual offer of having a little fun together didn't change his expression, which had settled somewhere between light amusement and genuine interest. He'd gotten pretty good at making people think he cared about what they had to say, even though their words were, more often than not, emptier than his own. In this case, he was doing all he could to mask the flare of indignation in his gut at Leo's less-than-kind comment about Felix. It wouldn't do to show his hand, not yet. So he just smiled through it, allowing Leo to lead, prepared to go along with whatever options he offered up to them that might make him more pliable. If Wyatt himself was that option, so be it. 

“What'll you have, then?” He got the fae's preferred drink and made short work of securing one from the nearby bar, taking Leo with him to keep Zane from blowing their cover by having to spend a few minutes with the fae alone. As they made their way back to the table, Wyatt gestured to the seat beside his own. “Please, take a load off.” Once they were all comfortable, the lamia took a careful dip into the topic at hand: Felix. Brought up by Leo himself, so it was less strange now to return to it. Lucky, that. Lucky that Zane had been caught doing something with them in the… boiler room, was it? “Must be frustrating havin’ someone like that under your jurisdiction,” he remarked casually, resisting the urge to glance at Zane and silently signal for him to be chill. “Felix, I mean. My own handler, well… let's just say she's quite pleased with my performance.” He smirked, as if to indicate that he wasn't morally opposed to sleeping with the people who held his life in their hands. It might gain him a little more trust in this situation. “And it's not like I want to leave… hell, I don't know what else I'd do with myself if not for this.” He paused, letting that marinate for a moment. “Been tryin’ to convince my friend here of the merits of the job.” Wyatt did look at Zane now, wearing a confident smile. If Leo knew Zane, if he knew that the vampire and Felix were… something like friends, then his presence needed to be padded. Lies needed to help make this encounter an easier pill to swallow. If Leo suspected them too soon, then they'd be blowing their one chance of schmoozing Felix out of their deal. 

—

This was a bad idea. Wyatt should have done this on his own because there was no way Zane could keep his cool throughout this whole evening, that much became evident the second the smarmy bastard opened his mouth. Fingernails dug deep into his palm and he huffed out something that maybe could have been construed as a sound of amusement. Tense as it was, Zane did manage the smallest of smiles, even as his blood ran cold at what Leo was suggesting. Maybe some acting classes should be his next priority. Since showing any interest in the offer was off the table, even in a fake way, Zane honestly muttered out a “you’re not my type.” Wyatt could take care of the charming part of this evening. 

The second Wyatt led the fae away, Zane deflated, focusing on the angry crescent marks in his palm to gather his thoughts. He dug desperately around for the manufactured sense of calm he could conjure up at work, treating people like Leo, drunk drivers or any other sort of scum of the earth. Tried to remember why playing nice was so important. Even though remembering Felix’s face that night at The Grit Pit spurred more anger, it was of the righteous kind, the kind that inspired focus and determination. So by the time the two men returned back to the table, Zane’s teeth were no longer under threat from breaking by the tension in his jaw. 

And Wyatt was good. If he didn’t know any better, Zane would have truly believed the disdain for Felix painted with those words. Zane’s focus stayed on Wyatt as he spoke, safer than risking another suggestive look from the fae that would all but break his current focus. Nodding along as he was dragged back into the conversation, Zane shrugged, fingers itching with the need to peel more of the beer bottle’s label so he took a disgusting drink from it instead. “Wyatt can be very insistent,” he explained, quirking one eyebrow at the man in question. As if this was a friendly discussion they’d had from time to time, amusing but annoying. “Told me Felix liked to exaggerate, that their explanation of how the place actually works is a bit… dramatic.” Zane steeled himself before he continued, the lie not as effortless as Wyatt’s but hopefully convincing all the same. “They did seem a bit… neurotic.”

He forced down another drink of the beer, the taste preferable to the lingering disgust of those words. 

—

While Lockjaw seemed comfortable enough with the situation, his companion was clearly uneasy. Leo zeroed in on the discomfort, tilting his head and raising his brows as the man — Zane, wasn’t it? — claimed that Leo wasn’t his type. “Mmmm, you prefer the bumbling idiot type? Explains why you were getting so cozy with Fe, at least.” There was an uncomfortable feeling in his chest at the thought of Felix genuinely moving on with someone new. Not jealousy, not exactly. It was more of a… possessive thing. Leo didn’t like to see someone new playing with his toys, even when he was finished with them.

But it wouldn’t last, anyway. He reminded himself of that. At the end of the day, Felix, like Lockjaw and every other fighter who signed a contract, belonged to the Grit Pit. So, Leo let Lockjaw buy him a drink. He ordered something expensive and top shelf, just to push the boundaries a little. He smiled as the lamia spoke, shrugging a shoulder. “Honestly, between you and me? I like it more when they’re not happy with it. Knowing they don’t want to be there and can’t go… It adds a new layer of fun to it all. And Felix…” Leo trailed off, clicking his tongue. “All the shit I put up with when we were an item? I deserve a little extra fun for all that.” 

His eyes slid over to Zane at the implication that he, too, might be interested in joining the Pit. Now there was an idea. The concept of having Felix go up against someone they liked enough to risk talking to in the back halls of the Pit was an enjoyable one, and Leo’s eyes danced with quiet excitement. “Yeah, well, Fe likes to whine. Always has, really. Part of what made it so hard to put up with them.” His mouth twisted into a smile with a few too many teeth as Zane went on, calling Felix neurotic. Leo barked out a laugh. He’d tell Felix all about it later, he thought; recount the conversation back to them, make sure they knew it was true. It was fun to add some variety to the ways in which he fucked with the guy, at least. “You’ve got that right. Try living with them. They’re lucky all I did at the end of it was sign them up at the Pit. I mean, I could’ve done worse, you know? And this way, they get paid. It’s not like they had any other career prospects. No high school diploma, no social skills… They’d be living in a tent if I didn’t have their back, you know? They bitch about it, but I really did do them a favor.”

—

Good cop, bad cop. As planned, or at least as close to a plan as they could muster. Though interestingly, from the eyes of Leo, Zane was likely the bad cop in this scenario. Unhappy with the way the Pit was run, making friends with the discontented fighters, denying the faun’s advances… Wyatt, on the other hand? Wyatt would say anything to gain favor, here. Because with favor came trust, and with trust came the opportunity to make a person more receptive to your requests. Let Felix out of his contract, the lamia thought, take this other nameless fighter instead. There’s less baggage, and they’re a bastard already, so no one is going to take pity on them and try to stage a coup on their behalf. It was something of a threat, when you got down to it. But, given time, hopefully it would prove fruitful. 

So Wyatt laughed and nodded, giving the handler a shrug of his broad shoulders. “True, true… I can understand that. I like fightin’ the ones that don’t wanna be there more than the rest, because they fight more desperately, you know? They know what’s comin’ and they’re afraid of it. Feels like huntin’, in a way. But you’re right, Felix owes you a lot. They wouldn’t fare well bein’ homeless, that much is certain. Me, I got the luxury of doin’ this for pleasure, but…” He gave it a good, long, overstated think, smiling all the while. “I know there’s those fellas that go out n’ capture the beasties, but what of the bonafide fighters, like me? I got a keen eye for folks like Felix… folks that can fight, but don’t want to.” He glanced now at Zane, and his intentions were suddenly made quite clear. False that they were, this was part of the plan. “I could bring ‘em to you, if you like. Offer you up some more of that dynamic you got such a sweet taste for.”

—

Biting back a retort that his type was pretty much anything except sociopathic sadists was hard, so Zane settled for a roll of his eyes and another drink. Better to say too little than too much. His skin was crawling, squirming, underneath that slimy gaze, the callous words. It didn’t much matter whether Leo was sizing him up as a possible fighter, to fight him himself or for other reasons, Zane was having a hard time sitting still - desperately quieting the scratching in the back of his mind that hinted at just how nice Leo’s blood would taste, how much the fae deserved it. On the bright side, aggressively shoving back those thoughts was a good distraction from the disgusting tirade about Felix. 

Wyatt, to his credit, continued to be completely unphased. It was convincing, almost too much so, how he spoke about his fights. Zane pushed those thoughts away along with the rest, grasping desperately at the bigger picture. He was here to help. That smooth gaze turned to him and Zane leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. They were finally getting somewhere other than simply trash talking Felix. Plus, this new setting that Wyatt was proposing (a heads up would have been appreciated, though) did provide a decent cover for Zane’s barely concealed grim mood. Even if it all felt just a bit too real. 

“And here I thought you just really wanted to buy me a drink,” Zane muttered, settling into this new role, impatiently waiting for Wyatt to string the bait. Praying that Leo would take it. 

—

Leo’s smile could hardly be described as anything short of predatory. His eyes looked Zane over like someone appraising a dog for a fight — an apt metaphor, considering the way the faun tended to think of the fighters under his ‘care.’ The guy looked tough enough. Good muscles, probably knew his way around a punch. But Leo had been in this game long enough to know that there was always a catch. Even someone like Lockjaw, who was happy to ask how high any time someone told him to jump, wouldn’t give something for nothing.

Leaning back in his seat, Leo took a long, thoughtful swig from his drink. “And what’s in it for you?” He questioned, looking back to Lockjaw with the slightest tilt to his head. “You want to make a trade? I get the fighters you bring in, you get… someone else released from their contract? I know you don’t want out of yours.” That was how the Pit tended to work. For most fighters, Leo would have done it without question. But… given the nature of the conversation, he had a feeling he could guess who Lockjaw wanted to spring. And there was no part of Leo that wanted to see Felix walk away free. It would feel like such a waste. He’d put years of effort into that useless cat. He had no desire to see them win. He’d sooner see them put down. 

“I’m not sure this is something that would benefit the both of us,” he hummed. “Especially not if I don’t understand why you want it. I know you’re not sleeping with them. They don’t put out enough to be worth this kind of effort.” 

—

Oh, how his hopes had soared for those few seconds that Leo talked himself through his understanding of the situation at hand. Yes, yes, it’d gone perfectly, and—no. He was saying that it wasn’t enough. Asking questions that Wyatt didn’t want to give the answers to. It pissed him off that he’d come so close to having this fucking thing resolved, only to watch Leo tug the fishing line and reel the bait back. He felt his patience run out. Irritation sparked and bloomed into a burning flame of anger, and the indulgent smile dropped from his face. 

“I wanted to be nice about it,” he said, shaking his head. “I wanted to make you feel good, wanted to keep from havin’ to say anythin’ that might upset you.” He paused, picking up his drink to take another long sip of it. “But the truth of the matter is, that wet cat is pathetic.” His gaze had hardened, brows furrowing as a general look of distaste arranged itself on his features. “And puttin’ somethin’ like that in the ring… I don’t got my panties in a bunch over the morality of it, Leo. But it’s a bad look. The people that come to the Pit don’t want to see their favorite fighters gettin’ all fuckin’ weepy before and after every scrap. And in case you ain’t noticed, since you got so many other better things to be doin’, Felix cries more than a spoiled brat givin’ her toys away to charity. That might do it for you, but it don’t do it for the rest of us. We’re sick of it. There’s the one-shot fighters that don’t wanna be there, that panic and fight tooth n’ nail… and then there’s Felix. Still ain’t dead, still ain’t grown a spine. I’m tryin’ to cut you a deal, here. Let you save face, get you some better names under your belt. So take it.” He paused, the silence between them heavy. “Take it.” Or else was the unspoken addendum to that command, present only in the extreme tension that had settled over the table.

—

And there it was. Whatever sliver of interest that had previously shone on Leo’s slimy face was gone, the smugness replacing it so naturally. Maybe Zane had been spending too much time with Emilio because he really, really wanted to hit him. He didn’t, letting nails dig into his palms once more, ready to leave. Wyatt had done plenty of schmoozing but it wasn’t taking - Leo was too insufferable, too possessive. They’d have to figure out another way to help Felix. 

Zane turned his gaze to Wyatt, surprised to see the anger he felt mirrored back tenfold on the shifter’s face. Oh, boy. He was going on a tangent, spitting out words as a last resort and Zane was finding it really hard to keep his face neutral, keep his eyebrows from furrowing with worry. This was Wyatt’s third little surprise of the evening and Zane wasn’t sure he could handle another. Take it. Swallowing thickly, Zane placed a hand on the shifter’s forearm, giving a squeeze. “Let’s just go,” he said, wanting to plead with the man but refusing to do so in front of the fae. He didn’t care if this wasn’t part of Wyatt’s plan, whatever that even was at this point - the tension between the other two was electric and Zane didn’t want to wait around for it to blow. “Wyatt.”

—

Ah, here it was. Lockjaw’s true colors, shining through like a spotlight. Some part of Leo couldn’t help but find amusement in the tirade, a slow grin stretching across his face. Everything Lockjaw said was the truth. Felix was pathetic, was a wet cat who couldn’t handle what the Grit Pit stood for, what it did. But Lockjaw wasn’t right about everything. He thought he was smart — that much was clear — but there were a few things Leo figured he didn’t have straight quite yet.

“The thing is, Wyatt,” he used Lockjaw’s human name, eyes darting over to the man with him with an amused glint; he’d known it before, on some level, but it wasn’t something he’d bothered committing to memory. Had Zane not said it, Leo wouldn’t have been able to pull it from memory in the moment. But it was so much funnier this way. “The thing is,” he said again, “you’re wrong about that. Some people, sure, they get uncomfortable seeing somebody in the ring who doesn’t want to be there. But some people? They live for that shit. See, most people who visit our little establishment don’t have a lot of power in their day to day lives. They’re human, they’re weak. So they see somebody like Felix, with the big claws and the sharp teeth, doing shit they don’t want to do just to amuse them? Well, that makes them feel good. Which makes me feel good. Ought to make you feel good, too, with the money we put in your pockets.” With a smug smile, Leo laced his fingers together behind his head. “Anyway, I don’t give a shit about ‘better names’ or ‘better fighters.’ That little shit wasted years of my life, you know. Dragging me down, making me miserable… I don’t really care how the fights go. I just like to see them half as miserable as they made me. Fuck knows they deserve it.”

—

Fuck it. Fuck it, Wyatt thought. This charade had gone on long enough. He pulled his arm away from Zane, extending it quickly to grip Leo by the collar. “You did that to yourself!” he shouted furiously, pushing Leo out of his chair and following quickly after, not releasing his hold. “You could have walked away at any fuckin’ time, but you didn’t! No one feels more sorry for you than you do for yourself, you stupid piece of shit.” The people nearest them reeled back from the sudden outburst, giving the pair a wide berth as they scrambled up from their seats. “I’m not lettin’ it go,” he ground out, directing it vaguely in Zane’s direction, though his gaze remained fixed on the fae in his grasp. “You let them go. Let them go! Or God as my witness I will rip out those fuckin’ intestines of yours and make you real fine noose out of ‘em.” 

—-

Shit. Zane should have gripped Wyatt’s arm tighter, should have dragged him out the second Leo lost interest. Instead, eyes were turning and angry hands were wrapped up in the fae’s collar. The chair almost toppled over as Zane stood, no longer caring to hide his discomfort with the situation. Why had he thought this was a good idea? Why had he let himself ignore the way Wyatt had impaled a stranger when he could have just as easily knocked him out? He’d wanted to believe that a part of the shifter was sensible but even more so, even more desperately, had wanted it to be possible to save Felix. 

“Stop,” Zane hissed, grabbing the crook of Wyatt’s elbow, not bothering with being gentle this time. “I know he’s a piece of shit but this isn’t going to help anyone.” He was definitely pleading at this point, even if the words were laced with anger. Wyatt had purposefully let him believe things weren’t going to end this way, that they wouldn’t do anything that might put Felix in danger. “Let’s leave or I’ll make you.” The threat sounded strange coming from his mouth but it was made to prevent harm, not cause it. Zane knew he could drag the shifter out if need be, as long as he stayed like this. Oh, how he hoped they weren’t about to be graced by the presence of Wyatt’s other form. 

—

A hand wrapped around his collar, a weight forced him to the ground. Despite working in a fighting ring, Leo wasn’t much of an action guy. He preferred to use his words rather than his fists, was good with them. Lockjaw attacking him hadn’t been something he’d accounted for. Maybe he should have known better. Some people were into the whole ‘pathetic wet cat’ thing Felix had going on. It was a little surprising that they’d managed to snag Lockjaw’s attention with it, but maybe it shouldn’t have been. Leo swallowed, looking up at the angry shifter. “If you kill me,” he said lowly, “you kill any chance they ever have at getting out. That contract won’t end with me. But any chance of release will.”

His eyes darted back to Lockjaw’s friend, hovering nervously behind them both. “If you take him now, I’ll let you leave without any consequences for the two of you,” he promised, careful with his words. “You can walk out, but only if you go now. Otherwise…” He trailed off, tilting his head to the side. “The Grit Pit has plenty of ways of twisting your contract around, Wyatt. I’d hate to see them ruin all your fun. You enjoy the fighting, don’t you? We can make it so that you don’t. Twist it so you lose every time. It’s all right there in the fine print. You don’t need both your arms to be useful to us. Or the tail, or the eyes. I’d be very careful how you use your words.”

—

Wyatt was ready to turn on Zane if he had to, the strong grip on his arm igniting an instinct that was especially hard to control when he was this sleep deprived and this angry. Let’s leave or I’ll make you. He sucked in a sharp, ragged breath, wanting nothing more than to strangle the life out of the smug bastard in his other hand, but then that bastard was talking again, and the things he was saying put something of a damper on the lamia’s temper. Killing him wouldn’t break the contract? What kind of fuckin’ shit was that? He’d been ready to deal with the consequences for killing a handler, but not if it would amount to nothing. 

The threat wasn’t veiled by any definition of the term, and Wyatt felt his resolve breaking. The cogs in his head were turning, weighing the pros and cons of beating Leo to a pulp right here and now. Pros: he’d feel better. Cons: … everything else. A miserable future for him and Felix both. 

“They don’t know,” he finally said, releasing Leo’s shirt. “They don’t know we’re here.” Leo’s words were rattling around in his head and he couldn’t get past the phrasing the fae had used. Without any consequences for the two of you. “They didn’t ask me to—” Zane was dragging him back, probably anxious to just get them both the hell out of there. “They didn’t ask!” He was frantic for the stupid motherfucker to understand that, but there was a deep rooted fear in his heart that Leo wouldn’t care. Goddamnit. Goddamnit. 

Once they were outside, Wyatt kicked the first thing he saw that wasn’t bolted to the ground, sending the trash can (that had been bolted, but evidently not very well) clattering into the street. Another string of curses spilled from him and he paced on the spot for a few seconds before wheeling around and making for the door to go back inside. “I’m gonna kill him, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him.”

—

Leo was… terrifying. He wasn’t just mean or conceited or a bit sadistic - he was cruel. The two of them should have talked to Felix beforehand, should have let them make the case that this really was a bad idea. Zane had half a mind to let Wyatt go, make this bastard pay but it would only sour an already awful situation. And then the shifter relented and Zane didn’t hesitate, forcing the man towards the door even if the desperation in his voice was horrifying. Felix hadn’t asked for this and now a couple of dumbasses had most likely screwed everything up for them. With one last withering glare in Leo’s direction, he finally managed to shove the ball of fury outside. 

Zane deflated while he watched the other man rampage, wincing slightly as the trash can clanged against the street. Anxiety was fully rolling through every cell with a nice accompaniment of guilt. What had they just done? Wyatt gave no warning before rushing at the door - he was angrier but Zane was faster. 

“Stop it!” Shoving the other back, standing his ground in front of the door, Zane glared down at the shifter. “We’ve made enough of a mess. Going back in now is only going to get you in more shit on top of whatever… whatever’s going to happen with Felix now. So back off, kick another trash can or something. You’re not going back in there.”

—

Wyatt let himself be stopped, not really wanting to hurt Zane, who hadn’t done anything wrong except listen to a shit-for-brains shifter who knew too little about the world to make any kind of good decisions. He stood there in front of him, jaw clenched as tight as it could be and trembling from the rage that coursed through him, threatening another unintended shift. His gaze wasn’t on the vampire though, it was laser focused through the door on the spot where he knew he had left Leo to pick himself up off the ground. 

“He can’t—Felix is never gonna get out of that place as long as he’s alive,” he argued. “Fuck, the contract might default to someone else, but they wouldn’t have an emotional investment, right? They might let Felix go if I—if I gave them somethin’ better—” He still didn’t really understand how it all worked, and he was grasping at straws. The only thing he knew for certain was that it was going to take every ounce of mental fortitude he had (which wasn’t very much these days) to keep from devouring the handler on sight. Frustrated and with no place else to channel it, Wyatt finally let his gaze lock with Zane’s. 

“... I’m goin’ to the Pit,” he announced, turning and walking away. The last time they’d met outside a bar, he’d complained that it was too far to walk. Now he didn’t care. Now maybe the walk would do him good, and by the time he got to the Pit, he wouldn’t still be ready to rip apart whatever poor creature they put in front of him. It was his night off, but he’d work for free this time. He needed to destroy something. 

[lcvebirds]

WHO: wyatt richards. real estate broker. 33-38. OPEN TO: f 30+ PLOT: your muse is wyatt’s ex and now wants him to help them find a place. could have alternative motives (they miss him or whatever). go crazy.

the last person that he expected to walk through the door of his office was his ex. wyatt’s eyes landed on them and his face dropped, why? things hadn’t exactly ended on good terms and he’d ended up getting hurt. “you want me to, what?” he asked them as they requested he help them find a new house. no money seemed to be worth working with the very person that managed to break his heart just months ago. “why don’t i set you up with another agent? i just don’t think that i’m going to be able to give you what you want.”

[blindspct]

@loveaffairxc liked this for a closed starter

swinging the door open, the real estate broker's eyes landed on the other in front of him and his face immediately dropped. not because he hated them but because he wanted to and he couldn't bring himself to do it. "what are you doing here? i told you last time that we can't keep doing this." he stated as he leaned against the door frame. "you can't run to me every time you two have problems. i don't want to be a second choice anymore."

[topherjackson]

A few years ago, Topher would have been out getting laid 24/7, but now, camp had become routine. He was no longer the kid in a candy shop. He only bothered leaving the family cabin for festivities. He had become more selective about the men he slept with and he did not like the desperation from some of the men. And he had his family when his needs became too much. He was inside, mindlessly scrolling through TikTok when a knock and a familiar voice startled him. He opened the door with a grin on his face to meet his uncle but his smile faltered as he took in his uncle’s attire. He suppressed a laugh and moved closer to greet the man with a peck on the lips. “You look silly,” he teased. “And dad is not here right now to pass you around, I’m afraid. And I just woke up. We can make out and catch up if you want. How’s the city? Did you bring me a gift?”

open to: anyone location: outside any cabin (he thinks it's his family's but he CAN be wrong) @daylightstarters

Dragging   his   luggage   behind   him,   always   late   or   one   of   the   last   to   arrive,   Wyatt   trudged   down   the   dirt   and   gravel   paths   in   a   full   suit;   having   immediately   left   a   meeting   with   his   publishing   team   to   hop   on   a   plane   so   he   could   join   his   family   at   Camp.   Without   paying   much   attention   to   where   he   was   going,   running   off   adrenaline   and   what   he   thought   was   a   decent   memory,   he   made   his   way   through   the   familiar   paths   and   past   faces   he   knew,   and   those   he   didn't,   until   he   arrived   at   his   family's   cabin.

well,   what   he   thought   was   his   family's   cabin   anyway.

Gathering   his   luggage   on   the   front   porch,   rather   than   making   his   way   inside   he   started   to   strip   down   right   then   and   there.

Piece   by   piece,   he   folded   his   suit   and   his   discarded   clothes   to   let   them   sit   atop   his   luggage,   until   he   was   standing   there   on   the   porch   in   nothing   but   a   jock-strap   and   his   glasses.   Knocking   on   the   front   door   with   a   huge,   goofy   grin,   he   called   out   "Oi,   who   ordered   the   pass   around   party   bottom?"   with   a   laugh   before   adding   on,   "come   on   boys,   where's   my   big   warm   welcome?"

[lcvebirds]

the last person that wyatt expected to be at his door, especially at this time of night was his little brother’s girlfriend, and without his brother. really, he didn’t know what to think of it and it was kind of weird but he immediately noticed the look at her face and he suspected one of two things. one, his brother was in some sort or trouble or two, they broke up but that still didn’t really answer why she’d be at his place. sure, they’d were friends due to her relationship with his younger sibling but...he figured maybe she would be one of the last people that she would want to see. he stepped back, nodding her inside. “is everything okay? is my brother okay?”

@mcrlinn​

[blindspct]

closed starter for @hcrdelicacy ft. wyatt & utp!!

it'd been a long time since wyatt had been out with anyone and even so, he wasn't really looking for anything serious. somehow, he got suckered in to going on a blind date by one of his friends though and in attempt not to hurt their feelings, he agreed not to back out. as he approached the agreed upon restaurant, his eyes landed on a familiar face. he pursed his lips, stopping close enough to catch their attention. "please tell me you're not here for a blind date too..." he spoke and ran his fingers through his hair.

[blindspct]

the more that came out of her mouth, the more that he was sure that she was having a hard time getting herself out of this situation. wyatt didn't want to push too much and he was sure he'd already made it clear that he wasn't exactly happy about her decision to lie to him. "i meant against me or well, against men in general but thank you for confirming that you're not dangerous." at least, her background check would have had to come back clean. that didn't mean too much though except for the fact that she wasn't a criminal. he cocked an eyebrow as she went on, "cassiopeia," he said firmly, "i said to forget it. this is not the time nor the place and what happened between us will not happen sgsin." and that wasn't just because of her lie. it was also because wyatt didn't mix business with pleasure.

"well...i do have a nickname," she concedes, completely nullifying her explanation. "you can call me cass." cassiopeia is too long for anyone to bother saying and she knows it. her smile becomes sheepish, realizing that she's only digging herself into a deeper hole. cass has been on the receiving end of hr own treatment more times than one, and she knows he deserves an explanation. it's the very reason that she is the way that she is. being the non-attached one tends to serve her better, even if it isn't authentic for her. "fine! it's totally forgotten." except that it isn't, she continues speaking almost as quickly as she dismisses it. "it's not for safety, though! i'm not dangerous." which seems important for him to know as her employer, though she realizes it doesn't sound very convincing. he hadn't accused her of being dangerous. "i'm just not looking for anything serious, and i know most people aren't looking for anything serious with me. so it's...easier." she shrugs uselessly. "and i'm your employee how, like you said. so we can just...pretend you haven't seen me on my knees." probably not the way she should talk to her boss. she groans, rolling her eyes at herself. "actually, pretend i didn't say that."

[lcvebirds]

wyatt was the last person that inserted himself in someone else’s business but when he saw the guy bugging her and noticed he wasn’t getting the hint, he decided to step in. the thing about him was he wasn’t a fighter despite his tall build and so when he managed to upset the other guy for whatever reason, it ended up with him getting a busted lip. he couldn’t tell if it were worth it or not but he was thankful to know the other finally got the hint. “i’m alright.” the blonde reassured her, offering her a small smile as he held the makeshift ice pack against his face. “are you alright though?”

@saavcns

[blindspct]

wyatt never expected to hear from her again, especially not after their breakup but when he received the wedding invitation in the mail with a confession of her love for him, he knew this was the second chance that he assumed he was the only one that wanted. clearly, that wasn’t the case. he was nervous because he knew this was a big step but she’d made the first move and he was just further confirming that he felt the same way. he had the invitation tucked in his pocket and he made his way into her bridal suite before the wedding, “i got your invitation,” he started after making sure the woman was alone. “did you mean it?”

@lyswrite​

[blindspct]

wyatt knew he made a mistake but he was definitely willing to make it up to her, especially since he cared about her as much as he did. "i'm not asking you to forget. i'm asking you to give me another chance so i can make it up to you."

"now why would i do that?" chloe questioned him, as she leaned up against the doorframe, her gaze meeting his. "you hurt me pretty bad and it's not something i can just forgive and forget."

[lcvebirds]

there wasn’t anything wyatt wouldn’t do to take care of his wife. he loved her, devoted his free time to her, and took care of things at home so that she could tackle her career goals. it wasn’t really how he thought his marriage would go. he thought they’d be a team but once things became too much, he took a step back when it came to his work load without her having to ask him to. he just wanted to do whatever he could to make sure that his wife got whatever she wanted and that she had the time to do so. as she walked in from her day at work, he smiled and carried their plates toward the dining room table. “just in time,” he announced, turning to look at the woman. “dinner’s ready. you hungry?” he questioned before greeting her with a soft kiss.

@lcseyourself​

[lcvebirds]

the very moment wyatt’s eyes landed on his ex girlfriend, he couldn’t help but make his way toward her. a smirk appeared on his lips and he leaned against the bar, his head cocked to one side. “i bet you thought you could avoid me forever, huh?” he spoke just loud enough for her to hear over the music playing in the bar. “when are you going to realize you want me back?”

@aconites​

[blindspct]

"it's not like i won't see you again, unless you've decided to quit and vanish out of nowhere. just so you know, if you ever did, i'd be severely disappointed." wyatt informed the other. "i'm not going to say no to that. i say let's do it. i thought you were going to be too chicken."

"next time? so confident." maverick teased. "let's go skinny dip. that seems like the most fun, and then my underwear won't be wet for no reason." he spoke and raised his eyebrow. "you wanna?"

[blindspct]

wyatt allowed her to grab his arm but he paused as she did so, his eyes catching hers. he didn't know what to say. of course he didn't hate her but he couldn't fall into this, fall into her when he knew she was getting over her previous partner. "i don't hate you." he finally spoke, a sigh slipping past his lips. "i just," he pushed his fingers through his hair, "i just think that nothing should happen between the two of us right now. you need time to heal and i can't allow myself to be a rebound and risk you changing your mind."

as she wiped her face with her hand, trying to stop the tears from falling, he rose to his feet, preparing to leave. just as he was about to, she reached out and held his hand, her voice trembling with vulnerability. "please," she implored, gazing deeply into his eyes. a sudden panic gripped her, the emotional aftermath of breaking up fueling a growing paranoia. the fear of loneliness envelopped her, and in that moment, she realized how unfairly she had treated Wyatt. she slowly rose to her feet, never breaking her gaze from him. "please, tell me the truth" she pleaded, unsure if she made any sense at all. "tell me you're not beginning to hate me," she added, her grip on his hand firm and desperate.