wyatt-guerrera

[wyatt-guerrera]

"Why would you need something to wear?" Wyatt asked, a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. The shift in Marshall slowly turning back into the flustered, cute guy had been noticed. The awkward flush and fumbling demeanor were unmissable. It was clear enough what Marshall was doing; he wanted to get to know Wyatt more, and Wyatt was all for it and resisting his primal instinct.

Still, instincts ran deeper than patience some days. "Not that I mind the view," he added, tone casual enough to cover the heat behind it.

A rough exhale left him as space grew between them—shirt back on, tension cooling. Wyatt leaned back, eyes flicking away just long enough to ground himself. "No need to overdo it," he said, voice smoothing out again. "I'm still a wolf at the end of the day. Simple works."

He paused, gaze settling steady now. "That said, anything I should know food-wise? Allergies? Dislikes? Last thing I wanna do is poison dinner by accident."

Heat and blush once again spread from Marshall's cheeks and down into his chest and he coughed as he lightly cleared his throat. "Y-Yeah. That too, I guess." He shook his head a few quick times and forced himself to look anywhere but Wyatt's face as he steadied himself once more. "Uh... actually I think it's still in the corner of my room..." He added as he thought on it for a moment. "I was going to move it, but then I remembered that we hadn't gotten around to exchanging numbers..." He explained. "But, I mean, now here we are..." The sentenced trailed off breathlessly as his mind wandered off course.

The gentle catch in the fabric of his shirt veered his thoughts back on track and he silently watched Wyatt gaze over him. There was something in the older male's eyes that Marshall didn't know how to properly describe. Something akin to 'hunger' as best as he could put it. "Yeah?" Marshall blinked, as if a part of him had still expected Wyatt to decide against having a dinner date with him. "Uh, great! Yeah, that sounds great... but I seriously need to get home then so I can shower... and find something to wear..." He mumbled and finally tugged the shirt over his head and slipped his arms into its sleeves. Maybe he could go shopping beforehand? There was still a decent amount of time before the evening rolled in.

[wyatt-guerrera]

His words carried a sharp edge of truth; Wyatt doubted the Crescent wolf even recognized who he was, much less his Guerrera lineage. His family shared a complicated, volatile history with the Crescents, enough that Wyatt had no desire to discover whether he would be greeted with welcome or hostility due to actions taken by relatives he'd never truly known.

The wolf's comment about "right now" elicited a soft, rumbling sound—the closest thing Wyatt could manage to a chuckle in his wolf form. Communication was inherently limited, even among wolves adept at interpreting the subtle nuances of body language and vocalizations. Maintaining unwavering eye contact with Jackson, Wyatt initiated his transformation from a large red red-furred wolf to human shape.

The shift occurred swiftly and efficiently. He had conducted countless transformations, preferring his wolf form sometimes over being human and shifting more times than even a hybrid liked to. Unlike most, Wyatt had mastered both the pain and process, embracing rather than resisting it. As his human form settled, muscles flexing and tendons realigning, he cleared the residual soreness from his throat with a low, growl-like sound. Standing fully, he regarded Jackson with a slight smirk. "Well, it's certainly interesting to hear that perspective on the Crescents," Wyatt remarked dryly, masking deeper reflections beneath his casual demeanor.

As the other wolf neared, Jackson didn't make a move - not forwards or backwards. He wouldn't show aggression or weakness, as either could be provocative. "Not here to fight," he promised aloud. "Just thought I'd see who was out for a run. Long as you're not here to hurt anyone, the Crescents don't have any issue with you right now. Bayou's safe for us all, so enjoy."

[wyatt-guerrera]

"Well," Wyatt began with a faint, playful smirk, "literal magic does wonders for frown lines." His tone remained casually confident, carefully hiding the weight of his past and the source of his power—magic reclaimed from those who had destroyed his family.

His expression shifted to one of amused curiosity. "A Days of our Lives reference, wow, that takes me back to fun times with my mother when I was sick off of school." He let out a chuckle at the memory before returning to the present. "Depends who you ask," he said lightly, eyes sharpening momentarily with subtle intensity. "I've no problem dismantling someone limb by limb if they deserve it. But there’s definitely one particular little creature who has me rolling over for belly rubs—metaphorically, of course."

"No it's my polite way of saying you will have frown lines in no time." Falin replied with a smirk. Falin was the blunt type after all.

Falin sighed to herself. "Of course I have darling. What is there to do in those days off." She examined him once more. "You resume Bo Brady in some aspects. Expect for the fact you scared me." Falin pointed out. "Unless you have a heart of gold beneath that tough exterior of yours?Just like Bo after he saves the woman of the week " She said intrigued.

[wyatt-guerrera]

Wyatt caught the unfamiliar scent instantly, drawing him to a cautious halt. Tilting his head slightly, he inhaled deeply, dissecting the subtle notes carried on the breeze. He didn't recognize the specific owner, but the distinct markers were clear, similar enough to identify it as a Crescent wolf. He was near their territory but still outside its boundaries, aware that even solitary wolves rarely ventured far from the pack. Wyatt advanced cautiously, senses sharp, deliberately maintaining enough distance to appear less threatening. Solitude, in these parts, was deceptive; backup was often closer than it seemed.

Jackson had gone into Crescent territory to visit the pack, and had certainly indulged in a few beers before leaving to go fishing. He'd wandered past their territory, feeling comfortable in the Bayou no matter where he might be, and was laying on the banks waiting for a bite when he caught the scent of another wolf on the wind. Not a familiar one, not anyone he recognized off hand, but definitely there.

He didn't move towards them, just let them keep running, but he kept track of which way they were going. If anyone approached the Crescent line he'd quickly shake off his lazy vibe and shift himself, but for the moment he had nothing to gain by confrontation. The Bayou was for wolves, as it had always been, and he wouldn't stop anyone from running free in it.

[wyatt-guerrera]

"Ah, you already know about the timeline chaos—good, saves me from having to explain my overly-sensitive senses after shifting," Wyatt admitted, a wry smile briefly crossing his face. Truthfully, even as a witch, the complexities of timelines were something he preferred to avoid dwelling on too deeply. The mere concept was enough to stir a headache. Yet here he was, drawn reluctantly into deciphering the puzzle, at least where it concerned Marshall, who was someone from the future.

"Thankfully, I belong to this era," he continued, studying the other person's features thoughtfully. "Though it's going to bother me until I figure out exactly who you remind me of." Extending his hand confidently, Wyatt offered, "I'm Wyatt—Wyatt Guerrera."

Wyatt’s hands instinctively tightened around the man’s forearms, reflex taking over the moment someone unexpectedly made contact. “Yeah,” he said, forcing a small smile as he shifted his stance. “Just finding my footing after a bit of sensory overload.” It wasn’t strictly a werewolf issue, so for Wyatt, it worked as an explanation.

He loosened his grip, studying Maveric with a slight tilt of his head. Something about this person tugged at a half-formed memory, even though Wyatt was certain they’d never met before. “Huh,” he murmured under his breath. “You remind me of someone I know.”

[wyatt-guerrera]

"Not to mention, I was naked in that bedroom," Wyatt remarked, a playful grin spreading across his lips. Shifting had its quirks, and clothing typically wasn't part of the deal—though he'd considered using a spell, he hadn't quite mastered keeping attire intact. "Still missing that jacket from my costume," he added thoughtfully. He was certain he'd left it behind, though the oversight was intriguing rather than bothersome.

Noticing Marshall's nervous fidgeting with his shirt, Wyatt gently caught the fabric between his fingers, a subtle move to prolong the moment. He wasn't ready just yet for Marshall to fully cover himself again. "Hmm," Wyatt mused, his eyes slowly and openly appreciating the sight. "Mine it is, then. I'll cook—no unwanted interruptions, just the two of us. Conversation would be…" His gaze lingered meaningfully on Marshall before releasing the fabric with an amused smile. "Interesting."

The young male couldn't help but laugh at Wyatt's insistence that he would partake of melted, cheesy goodness again at some point. "Oh, not every time? Just some of the time?" He teased and grinned. Standing there in that moment with the wolf, Marshall didn't find himself thinking about Wyatt's age or their family's history with one another. Instead, he could only find the ability to focus on how content he was finding himself. Nervous and hormonal-charged, of course, but content. Wyatt hadn't been anything but kind to him since they met.

He let his hand be repositioned onto Wyatt's chest, smiling at the warmth radiating through the fabric between them. "Oh, is that so? I'll have to keep that in mind... gotta have some sort of weapon to use against you, right?" Marshall remarked. Taking in a deep breath that definitely wasn't meant to gather as much of the man's natural scent and lingering cologne into his nostrils as he could, Marshall released it with a sigh and finally stepped backwards a couple of steps. Retrieving his shirt, he fumbled with the fabric as he listened to Wyatt's response to his proposal.

"Probably not my place. Uncle Klaus is on edge these days, so bringing a stranger around probably isn't the best choice right now. Even though, technically you've already seen both my house and my bedroom already. How scandalous." He chuckled, remembering how Andrea had been less-than-intrigued by that tidbit of information. "I..." He paused, remembering his conversation with his father and smiling. "I don't mind - wherever you want to go - just somewhere we can talk while we eat?"

[wyatt-guerrera]

"Is that your polite way of saying I've got resting bitch face?" Wyatt quipped, eyebrows arching slightly in amused surprise. That was a first—usually, comments revolved around the intensity or apparent age behind his eyes. He’d always figured he just looked perpetually exhausted to some.

Her sudden outburst made his eyes widen slightly. He recovered quickly, mouth curving into a faint, sardonic smirk as he responded dryly, "Wow. Someone’s definitely been binge-watching too many TV dramas."

"You have a demeanor..." Falin muttered under her breath. She forced a grin. "I guess I get scared easily." Falin said with a sad laugh. She looked at him with sad eyes.

Falin's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" Falin replied with a shocked gasp. "What are you planning to see? Agony? Blackmail?" Falin stepped closer invading the other's personal spell. "Do tell."

[wyatt-guerrera]

Wyatt let out a quiet chuckle, his gaze narrowed slightly. The girl's attempt at deception was commendable, if unconvincing. He didn't need heightened senses or his detective training to see through her facade; subtlety clearly wasn't her strong suit.

A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned forward slightly, voice low and tinged with amusement. "Magic certainly has its perks—fixing life's little inconveniences, turning on the lights, as doing so by hand is barbaric. But…" He paused deliberately, eyes flickering briefly to an intense amber-gold, letting his werewolf side through momentarily before returning them smoothly to their normal brown. "We usually make a point to keep these things hidden from humans."

"What kind are they..." Nova asked slowly. She couldnt really comprehend. But she didn't have time to react though as she heard the words like magic.Nova began to stammer hearing the words.

"The magic of coincidence." Nova said trying to laugh it off, as if the other was crazy. It was clear to Nova she barely understood the etiquette of the supernatural, just seeing what sticks. Nova brushed her hair lightly before making a hand wave. She tried to change the subject. "So why bring important papers to place like this instead of a library?" She asked sincerely. "Afraid of the dewey decimal system."

Nova said quickly, unaware of what she walked into withthe mysterious guy.

[wyatt-guerrera]

@darkskiesrpgstarters

A red blur tore through the bayou, four paws pounding against the earth in a steady, fluid rhythm. Wyatt skimmed over patches of softened ground, instinctively avoiding the slick, moisture-rich soil that threatened to steal his momentum. The air was thick with scent—pines, rot, distant blood—and layered beneath it, the distinct presence of other wolves.

Some were familiar. Others carried the scent of the Crescents, a pack he avoided out of ingrained instinct. Being a Guerrera in this territory, especially when shifted, wasn’t exactly a safe gamble. Lines drawn long before his time still ran deep beneath the surface of their kind, and instinct had a long memory.

Still, there was something freeing in the run. Wyatt had grown to enjoy his time in this form—the raw physicality of it, the sharpened senses, the silence of thought replaced by instinct. And after gaining control over it, there were moments when the wolf simply needed out. Not for violence, not for dominance. Just release.

[wyatt-guerrera]

"At least it saves me from having to carry a lighter," Wyatt remarked dryly, watching as she lit her cigarette. Once the flame had served its purpose, he curled his fingers into a loose fist, extinguishing it with a practiced motion. He'd never understood the appeal of smoking himself—especially given his heightened werewolf senses. The smoke alone would wreak havoc on his nose.

His gaze settled briefly on her face, curiosity tempered with casual concern. "Is that a habit, or just one of those days?"

it was a vague, ambiguous, and plainly just a weird response to have to her inquiry but if it led to her having a smoke then she left bit her tongue. the moment flames were dancing on his fingertips the psychic raised a brow, of course it all makes sense now, he's a witch. "fancy." peyton plucked the cig out from between her lips, and reached out with it, burning the end with his index finger. "thanks."

[wyatt-guerrera]

"Oh yes, you are, I'm definitely making something extra cheesy and melted when I cook for you." A smile formed on his face as the memory flashed through his mind. "Granted, I don't want you to burn yourself every time on it. I hear humans heal very slowly." Sometimes, he did have to remember that even minor injuries were a pain in the ass for humans. Even if they were cute and slightly humorous.

"You underestimate yourself. Sure…." Wyatt gently took Marshall's hand and placed it against his own muscular chest. "Having larger muscles is nice and all. But…." His own hand gently caressed Marshall's cheek. "There is beauty in more than muscles. Plus, you can do the puppy dog eye thing a whole lot better than I ever could, and I even have a wolf form."

At Marshall's proposal for lunch, Wyatt's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Ahhhh, asking for a date, didn't expect you to be the first to ask." He smiled and tilted his head to the side slightly. "Your place, mine, or neutral ground? If the latter, I have to warn you, the Guerreras own a surprising number of places in this town. So, it might be hard to find one."

The display of magic left a small, intrigued smile lingering on the young male's face. When Wyatt stepped closer to him and expressed just how long he had been harboring the desire to kiss him like that, Marshall couldn't help but laugh gently. "What? Why was that when you wanted to kiss me?" He asked, shaking his head. "That was embarrassing. I'm never eating hot cheese around you again. I'm scarred for life." He continued in jest.

The hand that ran through his hair was soothing and Marshall found himself not even flinching with nervousness as Wyatt calmed himself down. Though, he was a bit sad to see those golden eyes disappear once more as he reigned himself in. Marshall tried to do the same for himself, taking a slow breath and releasing it - hoping the crimson hue throughout his face and chest had faded at least a little bit.

Of course, all of that was ruined the second Wyatt leaned in for a second kiss. The deeper intensity of the second turn caught Marshall off-guard, slightly. He felt his fists tighten their grip on Wyatt's shirt and give it a small tug as if he could move the older male any closer to him than he already was. A soft, muffled grunting escaped him against his will just before Wyatt pulled back, leaving Marshall's head spinning for the second time.

"God... those are dangerous... is being a ridiculously good kisser part of being a werewolf..?" He questioned, passively fidgeting with the hemming on Wyatt's shirt now as he listened to him speak. The gentle brush against his nose and the soft kisses against his neck sent shivers shooting down his spine. "Me?" He questioned Wyatt's statement about his attractiveness. "Have you seen you? I mean... thank you." He smiled once more. "I guess I've never really given myself a second thought before." He mused.

Marshall visibly fought the urge to raise an arm and give himself a sniff as Wyatt remarked about his scent. "You sure? I probably could use a shower after the gym and the storm. I mean, I took a brief one before the storm hit, but..." He rambled. Catching himself, he shook his head quickly. "You smell really good too." He said shyly.

Swallowing, he gazed over Wyatt's features for a few moments before speaking again. "Did I mention that it's... uh... kind of cute that you're protective..?" He asked. Another few moments of longing gazes and he spoke once more. "Do you want to have lunch together sometime...?" He found himself blurting out.

[wyatt-guerrera]

"Well....." Wyatt turned to face Peyton and lifted his hand up to his chest. "Technically, I always do." His fingers twitched a bit his mind already thinking of the spell to cause flames to burst from each of his fingertips.

✧.*― peyton morgrave / open starter / @darkskiesrpgstarters

"fuck." peyton muttered as her lighter refused to ignite. giving a quick glance around her she leaned in slightly to the person next to her. "you gotta light?"

[wyatt-guerrera]

Wyatt felt the familiar, subtle prickle of magic ripple through him. It wasn't merely his witch heritage alerting him—it was deeper, more instinctual, something akin to an animal sensing an approaching storm, an electric hum imperceptible to human senses. A faint, knowing smile curved his lips.

“They’re not exactly the kind of paperwork you’d want duplicates of,” Wyatt offered mildly. It wasn't entirely a lie; some information was innocuous enough to find through routine public records, but the Guerrera family had always skirted legality, even when all were thought dead and Wyatt was still hidden. Activities and holdings with questionable origins, things his current profession would certainly frown upon. “Though they appear to be just fine now. Almost as if by… magic.” He let the word linger intentionally, a playful glint appearing briefly in his eyes as he smiled knowingly.

Nova was reading her own book. When she noticed the conundrum occuring in front of her. Without much thought she tried to quickly do a spell she briefly remembered reading. "Maybe you should get some napkins." Nova said.

When she thought the other wasn't looking she whispered the spell. "Balanceu." She whispered, fixing the papers. Nova pulled her eye tauntly as if to pretend nothing happened. "Do you have extra copies of those papers."

[wyatt-guerrera]

"Sure, I've got plenty back home," Wyatt offered casually, holding out the food. "I'm Wyatt by the way." He subtly inhaled, senses sharpening instantly. Beneath Chase's clear werewolf scent lingered something darker: the metallic tang of blood, mingled with dirt, and unmistakably, the sharp sting of wolfsbane. Wyatt's eyes narrowed slightly at that scent. "I can smell the wolfsbane on you. Unfortunately, I didn't bring anything to counter it."

His lips quirked into a faint, teasing smirk, even though his gaze remained observant and cautious. "Who'd you manage to piss off that badly? An ex with a grudge?"

Right, it didn't take long for the other's scent to translate into werewolf and he physically relaxed - well as best as he could with wolfsbane running through his veins. "Seriously?" he said with a raised brow, finding the offer to be unexpected - him unaware of just how desperate for the food he seemed to look. "I mean if you're sure," he said as he slowly went to reach for the food. "Names Chase, by the way"

[wyatt-guerrera]

Wyatt turned his head just enough to catch her gaze, a subtle smirk tugging at his lips. "Instinct tells me there's a joke somewhere about me in cuffs, but I might've aged out of that kind of humor." His brown eyes briefly assessed her, recognition flickering faintly in his expression. He'd seen her before, at the station, but the details eluded him. "I'm Wyatt," he said smoothly, extending a confident hand. "Wyatt Guerrera."

She had seen him at the PD, it was quite obvious who he was - he was handsome and she remembered handsome people. And as much as she loved JJ she wasn't going to just stop admiring beautiful people. "Yeah," she drew out with a laugh, "probably a smart thing to not do that - we really don't need you getting arrested," she laughed

[wyatt-guerrera]

Official business had never suited Wyatt. Even his coworkers could see his discomfort whenever he wore a suit for too long, suppressing the more primal instincts that simmered beneath his controlled exterior. He shifted his gaze from the man before him to the paperwork spread out on the table, frustration flickering briefly across his expression as he struggled to parse through the dense legal jargon.

"Still," Wyatt murmured thoughtfully, his eyes scanning the documents, "it's interesting to see just how many local properties the family owned before their demise." It didn't escape his notice that most of these assets seemed intertwined with the Mikaelsons or their associates—no surprise there. He exhaled softly, a sardonic smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Aunt Francesca certainly wasn't someone you'd ever want to face across a Monopoly board."

His brow raised as the other hissed and he looked to see a piece of splodged paper and he let out a small sigh. "We don't need that one," he reassured the other as he put it to the side, "I'd say let's focus more on the pressing matters and then take a circle back to this form. I'm sure once it's dry we'll be fine"

[wyatt-guerrera]

As Marshall jumped back, startled by Wyatt's suddenly erratic magic. Wyatt simply smiled, running his tongue slowly over his lips. Amused by Marshall's flustered, fragmented sentences, Wyatt chuckled softly, raising a steady hand and curling it slowly into a fist. As he did, the chaotic barking around them quieted gradually, fading completely as his fist closed. With a casual flick of two fingers, he sent the shattered glass smoothly streaming through the air, collecting neatly into a pile several feet away.

Stepping closer, Wyatt gently reached out, fingers sliding thoughtfully through Marshall's hair. "Been wanting to do that ever since you burned yourself on melted cheese," Wyatt murmured, voice low and warm. His chest expanded with a controlled breath, eyes briefly flaring to their intense, golden amber shade before he released the air slowly, regaining control of his instincts. He knew he wanted more than just a fleeting physical encounter with Marshall; that was something he refused to rush.

Still, he allowed himself another kiss, deep and purposeful, though briefer this time. As he pulled back, he gently brushed the tip of his nose along Marshall's, smiling softly. "Why so surprised? You're attractive, kind... and there's something uniquely compelling about you." His lips curled into a playful smirk. "Maybe a bit too innocent that brings out a protective streak in me." Leaning down, Wyatt pressed his nose lightly against Marshall's neck, inhaling deeply before placing a few tender kisses there. "You also smell incredibly good."

There was something about the low, husky voice coming of the very attractive man in front of him that seemed to send a sort of static shock throughout Marshall's body. His breathing hitched and he shuddered once against his will when Wyatt's hands began moving and readjusting their placement against his bare skin. "O-Oh..." Was the only word he managed to get out before Wyatt's nose was suddenly brushing against his cheek.

If you'd asked Marshall what he had expected he'd get himself into that day, locking lips with a Guerrera witch-wolf that he was only just starting to get to know and understand would not have been on his list of expectations.

The moment he felt Wyatt's lips upon his, there was a heat that coursed through him from his very core and it felt like every part of his awakened into complete attention. The young male's hands found themselves to the fabric that covered Wyatt's solid abdominal muscles and slowly slid apart as they moved to his sides. The growl that escaped the older male was as intoxicating as the husky voice had been and it took all but a single second for Marshall's eyes to close and his smaller frame to push back into the kiss.

He'd lost himself in that moment, unsure how many seconds had passed when the shattering light bulbs around them startled him back to his senses. Marshall jumped, breaking the kiss and panting lightly as he stared at Wyatt for a few, dazed seconds. Then - he laughed. A soft, gentle laughter that shook his whole body. "Damn..." He let himself express with a quiet pant. "Should I.. take all of this as a compliment...?" He looked at the glass around them and the cacophony of barking that erupted from the other room at the sudden sound of everything.

"We just... That was..." He couldn't exactly find the words he wanted to use to describe that kiss. He was far from experienced and well-versed in the art of kissing and had few other occasions to really compare Wyatt's kiss to. Yet, he knew that he thoroughly enjoyed it. His body was still buzzing and reacting - a reddish flush spreading from his cheeks and faintly down his neck to his slim shoulders. "You were serious... with all your comments about me.." There was an admittedly shocked tone to his words. A part of him had truly been confused why Wyatt would have shown interest in someone like him, after all.