#classcomicsrps

@classcomicsrps​ wanted either Arthur or William. And the coin flipped to William.

Lips rolls into his mouth so he can nervously lick them in a futile effort to releae some of the anxiety. Will has never done anything like this, he doesn’t really know what the other’s reaction will be hopefully positive since he was the one to get him the clothes. There is a thrilling pounding in his ears as he shifts on his feet, trying his best to look comfortable even though his face felt warm and was probably crimson red.

William cannot greet the blond verbally. Instead, once Tyler is inside the room he silently rushes behind him, opening a suit jacket barely to reveal the crimson straps across his torso and down waist to end up in an equally tinted jockstrap, all fitted with silver rings and clasps. Eyebrows raise expectantly, almost challenging Tyler to say something bad just so he can confirm that this was as crazy as he’d expected— or, really, to just give him a compliment.

  Congress was out of session for the month and things had started to slow down for the vice president, who was spending his afternoon at the Number One Observatory Circle and attending the little garden he had started as a hobby for his free time. This wasn't exactly what Vincent thought the job would entail when he signed up with Ted but he didn't mind it, he just missed working for the Van Kirk business back home. Hearing footsteps approach, two of his guards approached him with a man in the middle.

The atmosphere in the club was intoxicating... for anyone that wasn’t him and his fellow incubi. With erotic dancers, one of which being his own kin William, strategically placed on stages throughout the dance floor, the crowd was soaking in the pheromones that were being released by him and his kin. Several people were naked, or very close to it, and there were a few making out and full on having sex in the club. It was enough for the incubus to feed on, and as he took a drink from his glass, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander across the dance floor... to find one particularly guy that looked a little lost and out of place.

Well, let’s help him out with that, shall we? Dustin thought to himself, placing his drink on the bar and sauntering towards the other male, releasing a wave of pheromones as he reached him. “Well, aren’t you a new face around here?” the incubus asked, placing a hand on the man’s chest as he stared at his eyes, slight smirk teasing his lips as he let his hand drag downward, only to pull away just before it reached the man’s belt. “Name’s Dustin... I’m one of the owners here... Welcome to my establishment... Let me know if there’s... anything I can do to make your time more enjoyable and make you glad you came.”

         Dante Hale. Realtor. Bodybuilder. It was easy enough of a story for the undercover detective as he breathed on with the swell of his full pecs. And with his shirt laid aside, Dante grunted on and undid the buckle of his pants and led his body to shift and ripple—muscle and curves swelling on as the tight cling of his pants came as a challenge. Though with a firmer push, the waistband finally eased beyond the mass of his beefy ass and the smooth fat globes practically jiggled out to the open. Though even then, Dante still made quick work of it as his thighs flexed against the material to ease and rid himself of his pants—and he just clenched his jaw at that moment where he had to bend over and expose himself a little more. Sure, Dante wasn’t new to it; being naked in the lockers was nothing, especially not when he’s the top dog—and even a massage in general. But knowing the nature of his case, he couldn’t help but tense up more as he strode into the next room as this nag weighed against him—his heavy cock swaying on with every step he took. Fine. Dante felt exposed. Or watched. Then again that was just the nature of it. He’s in the thick of it now. And with it, the detective just soldiered on and used that as a fuel to his focus. He’s on the case, after all—he is gonna see it through.

                                  smut starter call ( gif )

Jamie had been dragging his feet along all day, feeling far too full to do anything of importance. After waking up and seeing that Tyler had already gone off to work, Jamie got through making their bed and cleaning a few dishes before reclining onto the couch and binging some TV he couldn’t afford to pay any attention to. 

His focus was drawn to the two protruding milk jugs on his chest. He resisted the heavy urge to go and grab his pump, instead just kneading his pectoral muscles, pushing his feet into the carpet and closing his eyes, imagining that it was the alpha of the house who was doing this. He’d gotten himself all worked up throughout the day, leaving wet spots of sweat on the couch, his feet creating trails of a soft musk. By the time Tyler got home he wouldn’t be able to smell anything but Jamie all over the place. 

By the time he got home, he’d find Jamie outside in the front yard on all fours, ass up in the air, tending to their garden. He turned around, a little smile on his face. “Hey there, killer, how was your day?”