We're just lucky

notastrayomega

Mitchell didn’t always choose to stay over at Cillian’s. The vampire had his own place and him staying over only left him open to Cillian’s curiosity and probing questions. After Cillian’s discovery of Mitchell’s past the vampire had been steadfastly avoiding the wolf. As much as Cillian wanted to say that he hadn’t been worried, that he hadn’t cared, but he did. Even without knowing about the vampire’s horrific past the brunette had started to worm his way into his daily life. Lately he’d found himself looking around, expecting the vampire to be there only to find himself alone in his apartment. 

When Mitchell had breezed into his apartment and simply reclaimed his spot on the couch, Cillian allowed himself to feel a moment of relief before complaining at the vampire like always. 

Now, it was nearly three am and Cillian had been asleep for only a few hours when he picked up a strange sound. Dark eyes opening he sat up in bed, listening. Heart picking up when he heard a distinct cry, he was up and out of bed, dashing down the hall and into the living room. The omega’s heart had nearly stopped when he’d heard that cry, so often dreaming of his own families murder and living with the constant fear that hunters would one day find him had terror racing through him.

As he entered the living room he saw Mitchell tossing and turning, mumbled words and whimpers giving Cillian a clear idea of what was going on. 

"Mitchell!" He called, moving closer to the bed but not touching yet. "Mitchell wake up, come on it’s Cil, annoying, prissy little Cil? Come on wake up." Letting out a relieved sigh as he saw the vampire’s eyes open, he gave the other a moment to figure out where he was before he was on the bed, crawling up to sit in the vampire’s lap, his arms wrapping around him as he gently pressed his nose to Mitchell’s hair. His heart was pounding against his chest and he couldn’t shake the lingering fear that this had been something else, that it could have been something else. Curling closer to Mitchell, he ran a hand up and down the vampire’s cool back, a quiet rumble leaving him, sounding only slightly shaky as he did his best to hide how he was feeling. 

Dropping off the grid wasn’t all that difficult for Mitchell, not when there was a definitive reason he didn’t want to be found. As soon as Cillian had turned his back the vampire had drifted into the shadows and stayed there. Facing what had happened to him was one thing but facing it while there was someone around was definitely not something the vampire wanted to do. He was two states over with a trail of bodies left in his wake before Mitchell finally allowed himself to stop and face the music of his memories, memories he’d managed to keep locked away for the better part of eight centuries. 

The nights he spent holed up in Utah, those nights stretching from one week to two and entering into the third, were spent in fevered dreams and hoarse cries that were easily ignored by the owner of the shitty hotel he’d chosen so long as his room was paid for on time. It was nice to be unknown again, to be able to drift from bar to bar without worrying about someone recognizing him, without worrying about someone knowing him. But if there was one thing Mitchell refused to allow himself the pleasure of committing it was running. He was John Mitchell and he’d be damned if he was run off by another werewolf.

It was with that thought in mind that the vampire returned to California, determined to not let Cillian’s knowledge of his past deter him. He walked into the wolf’s apartment, like many times before, and seated himself in his normal position on the couch. Waiting for the other to bring up what had happened before he’d left, Mitchell was relieved when the man came and sat next to him only to gripe about how his research was no weeks behind thanks to the vampire’s impromptu vacation.

The events from his time with Herrick constantly plagued him at night, causing Mitchell to often stay at his own apartment instead of crashing at the wolf’s as he had before. One night, however, after a long shift at work and a series of questions from Cillian, Mitchell found he couldn’t be bothered to make the trek back home and instead found himself once more drifting to sleep on the other’s sofa bed. He should have gone home.

His body tossed and turned on the small uncomfortable bed, hands clenching the sheets tightly in his hands as he struggled and arched against invisible captors. Small helpless sounds fell past his lips along with the names, the most prominent being that of Herrick, and pleads for them to stop.

The sound of his name being yelled finally broke through the images haunting him, the vampire bolting upright as his slightly glazed brown eyes darted around Cillian’s living room. Just as he was finally getting his bearings once more, there was a weight in his lap and arms wrapped tightly around him. One breath told him it was the werewolf, that it was Cillian who was trying to offer him comfort.

Nuzzling Mitchell’s hair he pressed a small kiss to his temple, cursing himself for ever bringing this onto the vampire. He knew it was going to be something he would regret for a long time. “ Shhh, you’re right here with me, no where else. I won’t let anyone get to you, I promise.” The renegade omega murmured gently, reaching down to cup Mitchell’s jaw, he gently pulled him away from his neck for a moment, leaning down to press their foreheads together. “It’s just me and you here, no one else.”

Cillian felt a pang in his chest at how distraught the vampire was, knowing that he had, inadvertently, been the one to cause it. He may not have been the source but he was still at fault. Looking down at Mitchell with a gentle expression on his face, he let out a soft sound, hoping that in some way it would sooth the other.

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" Get you pale, freezing, undead hand off my ass now before I put your head through the wall.”

"Don’t Die on Me!" [Sentence Starters]

It wasn’t an unusual occurrence for Mitchell to stop by Miriam’s apartment on his way home from a shift at the hospital. His eyes widened as he finished climbing the stairs to the floor upon which the werewolf’s apartment was located, the scent of blood overwhelming to his vampiric senses. The only thing worse than the overpowering scent was whose it was— Miriam’s.

He paid no attention to what he looked like, tearing down the hallway with eyes as black as a bottomless pit to throw open the door of the younger male’s apartment. A strangled noise sounded in his throat as the scent intensified, the vampire stumbling the rest of the way into the apartment.

"Miriam!?" Mitchell shouted as he tore through the apartment, trying to find the origins of the scent that pervaded the small suite. "Oh god," he gasped as he entered the bedroom, the black in his eyes fading to tortured brown at the sight that greeted him.

Miriam laid crumpled on the floor by the bed as though he’d been caught unawares just waking up, a small pool of blood surrounding the prone figure from an arrow lodged in the other’s back. Black lines painted the skin he could find, the bitter scent of something foreign mixed with the sweet scent of the werewolf’s blood. The vampire was frozen for a few moments in horror and shock before the small movement of Miriam’s head had him scrambling across the floor to the other’s side.

His knees landed in the small pool of black blood, his hands frantically hovering over the arrow in the male’s back, unsure whether he should leave it or pull it out. “Miri… God Miri what do I do?” Mitchell asked, rhetorically, his voice breathy and panicked. Finally making a decision, the vampire gripped the wooden shaft of the arrow and tugged it free of the other’s body, unable to control the wince as the serrated tip slid free of the male’s flesh.

Gathering the werewolf into his arms, he pressed his palm to the still open wound in Miriam’s back as he rested his cheek on top of the wolf’s head, the panic within him only growing as blood continue to seep through his fingers. “Ya are gonna be okay Miri,” Mitchell tried to soothe the other, the words more for himself than Miriam, “We’re gonna fix this an’ it’s all gonna be okay.”

The choked laugh that shook the other’s body shocked him, the vampire pulling back to look down at Miriam. "Liar…"Miriam spoke in a pained hiss, dark brown eyes meeting his from beneath dark lashes against paper white skin. The younger male gave Mitchell a stiff smile, reaching up with a trembling hand to touch the vampire’s cheek, a smear of blood being left behind. "Dying in your arms… The best way to go out," the werewolf sighed as his hand dropped back to his stomach, his eyes drifting shut as his breathing became shallow.

"No… No Miri," Mitchell pleaded, pressing harder against the still seeping wound in the other’s back, "Jus’ tell me what t’ do, jus’ tell me… I can make this better, okay? I can, I know I can. Miriam!" Mitchell shouted the other’s name as the other’s heart stuttered in its already slow rhythm. "Ya can’… Ya can’ leave me," the vampire pleaded, his own eyes screwing shut against the sting of tears as he held the werewolf closer, his shoulders already trembling from the willful withholding of his sorrow, "Ya were supposed t’ be ‘ere… We were supposed t’ get out together… What… What am I gonna do without ya? I was gonna be better for ya, gonna try harder t’ be what ya deserved… I was gonna tell ya I loved ya and ya were gonna say it back an’ we… we were gonna be happy … M-Miriam," his voice finally broke on a sob, burying his face against the other’s disheveled locks, letting his tears loose to be absorbed by the other’s hair.

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Send “What’s this?” And I will generate a number to see what item your muse has found in mine’s belongings.

Sex toy

Walking through his apartment, he instantly picked up the distinct scent of something not so alive as he headed into the kitchen. Normally this would be a cause for concern but as he’d recently started associating with a vampire it didn’t set off any alarms. Setting his bag down on the kitchen counter he glanced around for said vampire.

"Mitchell?"

Frowning he moved down the hall, checking to see where exactly the man had gone. Honestly the apartment wasn’t that big so it wasn’t like there was a great variety of rooms to explore. His bedroom door was cracked open, something he knows he didn’t do himself. Letting out an irritated growl he pushes open the door, only to promptly pause. 

Standing in the middle of the room with an unreadable expression on his face was Mitchell, in his hand was a vibrator. At first Cillian wondered how long he’d been in his room to dig that one out, he hadn’t used that particular one in a while, having bought better and more satisfying ones, but the look on Mitchell’s face or rather the lack of expression had him bursting out laughing. 

Nearly doubling over as he shook with laughter, he tried to compose himself after a few moments. Straightening up, he wiped at his eyes, which had started to water from how hard he’d been laughing. “Shit I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time.” 

Lifting his head he glanced up at his alpha, a small, playful smile on his face as he caught sight of Tyler’s blush. ” ‘S nothin’ you haven’t seen before after all.” His hand traced over Tyler’s bare chest, drawing random patterns over the warm skin below him. Leaning in he pressed soft kisses to Tyler’s neck, nosing lightly at his jaw. A soft, pleased rumble left him, simply happy to have the other near him again. Giving a small nip to the pale skin before him, he gently sucked a fading mark onto his neck, well aware that it wouldn’t last. 

A small blush painted Tyler’s cheeks at the other’s comment, knowing it to be true. “I suppose you have a point,” he admitted, licking his lips quickly. He had indeed seen what was currently hidden beneath the sheets and had felt it as well. That, however, didn’t stem the embarrassment he felt as he remembered that night— embarrassment over his own reactions, never Tristan. 

His breath hitched slightly at the finger tips dancing over his chest, eyes fluttering slightly before falling to half mast as his gaze falls to Tristan’s face. Letting out a pleased rumble as the omega nuzzles at his jaw, Tyler tipped his head back slightly to give the other more room to deliver his attentions. The nip of teeth and the suction of the other’s lips on his neck had the alpha letting out a soft surprised moan, finger tips lightly digging into the other’s back at the sensation.

Returning Tyler’s rumble with a softer one of his own, he continued to nuzzle and kiss at his jaw. As he sucked a fading dark mark onto his pale skin, letting out a small whine as he watched it slowly vanish. " 's so unfair. You get to mark me up all you want and they last nearly a week." He mock complained. Though one of the benefits of quickly fading marks was that he just got to redo them more frequently.