The Warden

That's how he ended up in this situation in the first place, dragged away from his cuddle session with IV, now with Vessel's head trapped between his thighs, eating him out like it would be the last thing the singer would ever do.

“Please?”

And who was he to resist?

Vessel lived for this, the sweet mewling and gasps from his drummer as his tongue laved at his hole and cock, taking time to give both equal attention.

“One more, come on baby, give me one more, being so good for me, please.” As he abandoned his assault on the omega’s hole to suck on the head of his dick, licking along his slit with enough pressure to make II arch off the bed.

He was determined to wring every last drop of slick from his lover before giving him his knot.

II had already given him three and he wasn't sure he could physically give him another. “Ves, ngh- no, I can't, please!” His voice climbing higher in pitch as he begged for something, release or mercy.

He wasn't certain.

But as Vessel's hand came up to stroke him at a desperate pace, II's hips stuttered as his head pressed back against the pillows, a loud whine leaving his mouth as he came for the fourth time in one night.

He didn't have time to breathe before Vessel was hovering over him, pressing kisses to his cheeks to brush way the tears of overstimulation.

“Did so good, that's it, let me knot you, please, just wanna feel you, fill you up real good, please…” Vessel is insatiable, wanting- no, needing to fill his pretty omega up.

He was addicted to it.

II nods his head as he reaches up to grab a fistful of Vessel's hair, dragging him down into a rough kiss, moaning as he tasted himself on the larger man's tongue.

He couldn't get enough of it. How Vessel's body engulfed his own without even trying.

II could feel it, the head of Vessel's cock nudging at his entrance.

His hand gripped tighter at the singer's hair as he pushed in tantalizingly slow.

He didn't want to hurt his baby after all. No matter how eager his was to feel those silky walls around him.

II's body welcomed him in so easily, already prepped from his tongue and fingers.

But he can't wait anymore.

Vessel shifts his hips experimentally and has to bite his bottom lip to keep from swearing. It feels so good.

He's a wild beast unleashed as soon as II gives him a nod, telling him to move. With each thrust the bed seemed to slam against the wall, no doubt keeping the other's wide awake with the sounds of their lovemaking.

Vessel's knot is already swollen, catching on II's hole as he drilled into him. All the vocalist could think about was him. His pretty omega, his mate, his sweet boy.

His teeth scraped over the drummer's scent glands, teething along the sensitive skin before pressing hot, open mouthed kisses to it.

He couldn't hold back much longer. Not with the way II is squeezing him and crying out his name.

Yet, he held back anyways. He wanted to watch II fall apart one more time before he locked them together in the most intimate way possible.

His hand snuck down in between their bodies to wrapped around II's leaking cock, relishing in the way the man beneath him jolted like he has been shot.

Pumping him in time to his hips seems to be the right answer as II comes with a wail, clinging to his alpha like it's the only thing he has the mind to do.

Vessel groans and bites down on II's scent glands just as his knot pops in, shooting white hot ropes of cum deep inside his mate.

II squirms at the feeling of being so full that he can't think. All he can do is whimper and whine as Vessel carefully lays down on top of him.

They both know from past experiences that they'll be stuck here until Vessel's knot goes down…which takes forever because Vessel is so easily riled up by his lover just existing.

“You're impossible.”

“You weren't complaining a second ago.”

“I could barely breathe a second ago!”

So snuggling it is.

Twenty or so minutes later, Vessel grabs II and carries him to the bathroom like some damsel. Granted his legs were jello but let him have some dignity, damnit!

Setting the drummer down, Vessel turns and starts the shower, steam soon filling the bathroom.

“Come on, let's get cleaned up and then we can take a nap, yeah?” As the singer drags II into the shower stall, hot water making him melt and let out a less than appropriate sound.

Slowly Vessel washes away the evidence of what they've done, taking his time to appreciate his lover’s body. Gentle humming beneath the sound of the water hitting the tiles.

II is almost asleep standing up when Vessel shuts the water off and helps him outta if the stall, into a towel and down the hallway to the bedroom.

Vessel hands him a pair of boxers and a loose T-shirt that he knows will swallow his frame.

Crawling into the bed and immediately burrowing into the blankets and into each other's arms.

A few minutes the bedroom door opens and in walks III, the beta looks wrecked.

Hair sticking up all over the place, hickies and bite marks covering his bare torso, a slight limp in his walk.

“I blame you for this somehow.” He says while glaring half-heartedly at the alpha. It's obvious what had happened.

IV got his hands on the bassist.

Vessel just laughs tiredly and gestures to II, whose already half asleep and pressed into Vessel's chest. “Blame him for existing.”

DAVID “HESH” WALKER-

He’s a switch, I can feel it in my bones.

Won’t do anything risky, prefers to keep it in the privacy of his or your bedroom

Sloppy head, loves seeing you choke on it

Doggy style or lotus position, no inbetweens

Loves testing how flexible you are.

LOGAN WALKER-

Bottom. 100%

Whimpers 

Bondage is a big no go

THOMAS A. MERRICK-

I honestly feel like he’s vanilla, sorry :[

Not very vocal but loves when you are, start whining in his ear and you’re not gonna be able to walk in the morning.

KEEGAN P. RUSS-

Absolutely a pleasure dom! Look at me and tell me this man wouldn’t keep you writhing on your back while his head is buried between your legs! 

Brat tamer

Mean :(

In a fun way of course!

Impact play

Dacryphilia 

ELIAS “SCARECROW” WALKER-

OG dilf, knows a thing or two

His favorite position are missionary or cowgirl, he just loves to see your face while you’re stuffed full of him

Polite, will treat you to dinner before devouring you for dessert.

Breeding kink

KICK-

As quiet in bed as he is on missions

A munch

Can and will drag you into the closest closet for a quickie

Vessel enters the cottage with his arms too full of grocery bags, it's late but he hates leaving during the day. Too many people and too dangerous for someone like him to go out on a whim.

The only noise is the sound of him walking over to the kitchen, depositing the bags on the kitchen island along with his black surgical mask.

The house is supposed to be empty, save for the cats that occasionally find their way in. He only keeps them around because they're good for keeping pests away, (he's also grown fond of the little beasts but will never admit it out loud.) Their antics are a welcomed distraction from the stress of work.

Turning his head to look out the window at the backyard, the tall and foreboding trees block out the sun. Dark and heavy storm clouds gather overhead, petrichor lingering in the air.

Tonight will be good for writing in front of the fireplace.

It's not like he's going to sleep anyways; there are too many ideas bouncing around his skull that he fears he'll go mad if they're not put down on paper soon. Words and snippets and measures, melodies that can’t be replicated no matter how hard he tries-

He shakes his head and sighs, moving on autopilot as he puts the groceries. Without the other three men at home things are pretty awful, if Vessel could say so himself. But they’re all out for the weekend. They wanted him to go along yet he stayed for some Sleep forsaken reason.

Maybe it’s the heavy feeling in his heart? Maybe it’s the lack of tangible inspiration or a lack of response from the deity he serves and loves…even though it hurts him.

A loud noise startles him out of his reverie, making him whip around on his heels with his arms halfway up in a defensive stance.

The culprit stands on one of the bar stools, yellowish eyes wide and furry orange head tilted to the side, Vessel’s phone now on the floor.

Huffing at the little beast, “You better pray that it's not broken,” a pause as he searches his brain for the name that IV bestowed upon this menace, “Carrot Top? You don’t even know who that is, do you?”

Thankfully the device is fine when he crouches to retrieve it. A tiny paw swats at his head when he stands back up, “Hey!”

Carrot clearly thinks that this is the pinnacle of comedy for a feline as he does it again before jumping down and skedaddling across the kitchen.

Vessel just stands there, bewildered and questioning why he even lets these creatures roam the property.

Oh right, III and IV stared at him with their big ol’ blue eyes and he’s too much of a sucker to say no when they gang up on him. II hadn’t even stepped in during their campaign to adopt the strays, because the drummer has accepted that the two string players will always find a way to get what they want. They’re relentless in their endeavors, both sharing one collective brain cell and using it for evil.

Whatever, he needs to change out of these jeans and into pajamas. Surely III wouldn’t mind if he snagged one of the bassist’s faded band tees?

The nightly routine feels like it takes an eternity today, sluggish as he showers and brushes his teeth. His thoughts stuck on a chord that he’s been antagonizing himself over since he woke up.

Some blues style chord, should it go D7 A G DG or D7 DG A7? 4/4 or 7/8, those are so wildly different.

Running a hand down his face and throwing himself into the rocking recliner with his notebook and pen after starting the fireplace. Almost out of ink, should find another soon.

…

Vessel's eyes fly open with a loud gasp, finding himself standing in the middle of a busy roadway. Car horns blare around, the vehicles swerving and people yelling at him to get out of the road. The sweltering hot summer sun beating down on his face is nothing like the chilly autumn air he fell asleep in.

It was as if his surroundings had shifted in the blink of an eye.

As the singer tries to get his bearings, something catches his attention. Looking up to notice a strange figure on the side of the highway. It is tall, gaunt, and its body contorts in unnatural ways as it stumbles through the traffic.

While the creature steps off the curb and steps closer to the road, Vessel scrambles back.

The nightmare’s limbs shift into strange positions, the skin rotting and decayed, grey from who knows how long spent in a grave. It opens its mouth to release a high pitched shriek, and a tongue that is far too long for the creature's mouth rolls out. Black bile falling in strings onto the ground beneath it.

Blood and viscera splatter the road.

The drivers in the vehicles blare their horns for a different reason now, some braking while others speed up in an attempt to hit the abomination. Every time it’s thrown from a car impacting it, it crawls back to its feet and screams, chasing after cars.

Vessel watches in frozen horror as it breaks the glass on car windows and rips people from their seats, ripping their limbs from their bodies. Nobody is spared, men and women, old and young, all caught in the carnage.

Its head snaps in Vessel direction as he trembles in fear, forcing him to meet its sunken and milky white eyes.

The creature lunges across the freeway, the only emotion in its eyes is pure malicious intent. Hatred thought to be impossible as its face contorts into a grotesque visage of Vessel’s own.

He shouts, not noticing the distracted driver racing right towards him until it's too late, the impact sending his body a good few meters in the air.

Everything is in slow motion, the thing's claws reaching for him, his body colliding with the rough blacktop, his neck snapping, the feeling of his stomach cavity being torn open.

Sitting up with a terrorized scream, Vessel's chest is heaving like he just ran forty klicks at full tilt.

When did he fall asleep?

The fire is burning low and his notebook has fallen off his lap.

He doesn’t even get a chance to calm his beating heart when something jumps on him, causing him to scream. Definitely not like a little girl and totally like the grown man he is.

This in turn causes the orange menace to puff up like a halloween decoration and hiss.

Swearing violently and letting go of his shirt which he had clutched like pearls. His first reaction is to be angry and order the beast away, but Vessel is too focused on the night terror he just experienced.

Carrot Top eyes the singer suspiciously before climbing further into his lap and plopping down like he owns the space. Purring like nothing is wrong and like Vessel didn’t just almost throw the cat across the room in sleep-addled fear.

With a heaving chest, Vessel slumps into the chair in complete and utter exhaustion, gripping at his hair while trying to focus on literally anything else but the dream. The pouring rain outside, the crackling and popping flames, the small weight on his thighs.

“You have the worst timing.” He mutters before slowly petting the cat and sighing. At least the furball is warm compared to the chill around him. “I bet you never have nightmares, hm? Bet it’s just mischief and chasing mice inside that tiny skull. Lucky little bastard.”

Resting his head back against the chair when there is an indignant meep from his lap.

Hesh's fingers are digging into the flesh of your hips, hard enough to guarantee bruises tomorrow. His lips are attached to your throat, sucking dark red hickies into your skin that will be difficult to cover up with makeup. But neither of you can be bothered to care right now.

The utility closest is cramped with the both of you still in all of your gear, there was no chance that you would make it back to your apartment before you couldn't take it anymore. So when you had grabbed Hesh's arm and dragged him into the closest empty room, he went along willingly.

And while it's fun to let him think he's in control, you're too pent up from damn near a month of being outside the wall. Not exactly a lot of hookup spots in an active warzone.

So the whimper you get when your hand cups him through his pants is delicious, pressing the heel of your palm and massaging his hardening length.

"Fuckin' tease..." You mumble just as your hands unbuckle his belt and shove those stupid pants down enough to reveal his hardened cock. "Just couldn't wait til we got back, hm?"

Not giving him time to answer, you take him into your hand and set a quick pace. There will be time for actual fucking later, right now you just want to get back at him for all those fleeting touches and filthy words whispered in passing.

His hips buck forward and he has to slap a hand over his mouth to stop the pathetic noises from leaving his mouth. He looks so pretty like this.