#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ❞ ¦ 「 Drake IC 」

[ducktales-wco-oo]

"Y'want to have daddy's pups don't you baby-wolf?"

Jim growled gruffly in Drake's ear as he impaled him from behind. Clawed hand wrapped around the younger's throat, other hand held onto the younger's waist, claws digging into soft flesh. It was certain to leave some red marks.

Thrusts were quick and hard, then slow and tender, then quick and hard again to obtain the longevity of this session. Realistically, Jim knows he can't impregnate his mate, but he'll fuck him as if it was the intent. And if he's reading his beloved correctly...Drake  is absolutely enjoying this.

//After Drake is turned and Alastair and his possé are defeated

-  ✩    「   @captainsxcrew​   」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」   In his wildest imaginings, Drake had never conceived that he’d be eagerly taken by his idol. Nor did he envision that the other would be in the form of such a monstrous, yet surprisingly-tempting beast. Or that he would ALSO belong to this inhuman life, freshly turned after surviving and helping win a battle that most would scoff off as the thing of fantastical stories. Or perhaps the ramblings of a madman. Not that the existence of ferocious creatures like werewolves and vampires is viewed with skepticism. One would be delusional to deny the threats that openly roamed the darkest depths of the surrounding woodlands... No, what is unbelievable isn’t that Drake came face-to-face with a creature of the night.

It’s that he SURVIVED it. 

But fantastical as this tale may be, ripe with discovery and trials unlike any even Drake had experienced before— a man whose life was already unconventional to begin with —every word of it is true. From the bond unexpectedly grown between the elder wolf and the youthful duck, to the ensuing threats of enemies ( fueled by natural instinct and personal vendetta ) , to the scene unfolding now. Victorious and virile in their relief, the two able to indulge now that danger no longer looms... And INDULGE they do, Drake gasping as he’s firmly entered by his mate.

Eyes squeeze shut, body tensing at the sensation it still attempts to become familiar with. Before Jim, Drake’s sexual endeavors were sparse and simple. They certainly NEVER involved him being on the receiving end. Yet, Drake’s muscles soon fall into their role as if its the only one they’ve ever known, relaxing around the large intrusion as pain blessedly gives way to near-blinding pleasure. TIGHT around the throbbing cock, they attempt to milk the shaft for all it’s worth, Drake’s chest laboring as it fights to suck in air amongst the shameless moans already pouring from his drooling mouth. Praise filling the air as the ‘baby-wolf’ feels his domineering mate set the deliciously torturous pace...

Throat bobs as Drake swallows through a gasp, the action difficult thanks to the claws constricting it, but not impossible. Sharp as blades, potential danger sends a shiver down Drake’s spine, the feeling of them pushing into his skin— a mere taste compared to the ones digging into the supple flesh of his hips, tips stained a glorious red —making Drake’s heart beat deafeningly. Not the pounding of a familiar fear, but of an EXCITEMENT that Drake never knew he could feel until caught in the grasp of the predator positioned above him. Before discovering what Jim was, and how Drake felt about him regardless, the inexperienced male was unaware of how... receptive he is to the allure of being a delectable meal to a ravenous beast. 

Tears beading in his eyes, they begin to drip down his flushed face. Hot streaks tinge his open mouth with salt during their trek, Drake unable to shut his beak lest he explode from the cacophony of praise filling him. Cries of ecstasy, wordless pleas as he’s roughly brought to the brink only to be gently guided away from it as the thrusts slow. Dizzy from the skillful switching between desperation and delicateness, hands desperately claw at the ground below and leave faint marks, as if Drake is trying to keep from unintentionally slipping off the edge of the metaphorical cliff Jim sees fit to tease him with. Not yet... Not until Jim says to.

Not until they’ve made certain Drake is ripe with his pups...

❝  Y-Yes... Yes, Daddy....  ❞  He finally manages to speak, ass desperately pushing into Jim’s hips as the pace starts to slow once more, Drake feeling the blinding-bliss of release abruptly yanked away from him again. As frustrating as it is— Drake whimpering pathetically as the knots in his stomach grow tighter —he’d be a liar is he claimed that he wasn’t relieved that he can continue to be bred by his mate. Voice cracking as he fights to form words, it trembles in tandem with his body,  ❝  Pl-Please— PLEASE, Daddy! I want your pups!  ❞  

Crying out, Drake indulges in a kink he never knew he had... and it’s incredible.  ❝  I want it so bad! F-Fill me... Breed me...  ❞  Were he in a clearer state of mind, he’d be dying of embarrassment from everything he’s saying. Everything he’s doing, tail firmly upright to present his reddened ass as much as it can for his mate to use as he sees fit. But enveloped in a reality that only consists of this moment, of this FEELING, he couldn’t care less.     「 ☆ 」 

[ducktales-wco-oo]

dollhousemuses​:

Send me a 🖋 and a character you’d like to see me write, and I’ll give it my best shot!

anonymous said ;; 🖋 + negaduck (either og or ‘17)

           “ WELL, DRAKE? ” Jim yelled out to the warehouse he was stationed in. “ WHAT DO YOU SAY? YOU’RE JUST GOING TO LET MY LOVELY HOSTAGE PERISH? ” The crazed duck spins around slowly, his arms open, welcoming Darkwing down to face him. “ I KNOW YOU’RE THERE! AND YOU KNOW I’LL DO IT! THERE ARE PLENTY OF HOSTAGES WHERE THIS ONE CAME FROM! ”

                    “ Well, my darling. It seems no one is coming to save you then. ”

{ ☆ } This is what it means to be a hero... Well, part of it anyway. One can’t forget the recognition and financial security that really ought to be part of the package deal. If someone is putting their life on the line night after night, facing crooks and fiends and all manners of vile villains— when the city officials aren’t treading on his cape and sweeping up all the opportunistic offenders before he even gets a fair chance —then a little bit of a thank you seems like the least someone could do.

But credit aside, this is what it’s about. Swooping in to save the day, regardless of how difficult that may be. Be it number of thugs, strength or smarts or... facing a fallen hero.

Because as Jim Negaduck so eloquently stated, they both know that he’ll DO it. So Drake Darkwing is quick not to give him a chance, revealing himself from his perch in the rafters with a pointed glare, lavender hues standing out starkly amongst the blackened shadows and deep violets of his silhouette. Growling out a curt— ❝ ENOUGH. ❞ to halt the others horrific actions, before swinging down to land on his feet, a hand smacking against the ground— wrist protesting but nothing aside from a slight ruffle in feathers betraying this —to support his landing.

Normally one to be more flamboyant with his entrances, that false-bravado is shelved in favor of a stern tone. Drake’s gaze unwavering, searching as he meets a crazed look he hardly recognizes... ❝ That is enough, Mr. Starling... ❞ Words are calmly spoken, Drake trying to reason with the man who once put down the chainsaw. Hoping for the Jim who pushed him and Launchpad— mainly LP, bitter as that truth may be —out of harm’s way.

Standing upright, Darkwing takes a small step forward, hands clenched at his sides and shoulders tense at the ready, just in case. ❝ I’m here now. You’ve lured me out... Now just- let them go... ❞ { ☆ }

[ducktales-wco-oo]

"How is it that I didn't know you for all this time?"

Jim questioned as he looked back at the younger man perplexingly. As though trying to figure out the puzzle that was Drake Mallard.

Deceptively simple and seeming of one track mind, but complex in emotions and determined in not just his dreams, but the desire to live the way he wanted, regardless of what anyone else would say, even the man himself.

- ✩ { @amarantestarsxspacexsea } ✩

{ ☆ } Drake chokes back a sputter at Jim’s inquiry, cheeks puffing and a small strangled noise of amusement slipping free despite his best efforts. It’s not that he’s trying to make fun of the man besides him; Drake would never dream of such a thing, even after coming to terms with the fact that Jim Starling is a man, made of flesh and blood and the capability for mistakes, rather than the infallible god he’d seen him as through his television screen. But it’s hard to keep his own bewilderment at bay from the others question.

After all, the real question is how— out of all the people in the world —is it that Jim DOES know him.

By all accounts, a nobody chasing a dream most doubt. No real friends or family to call his own. No impact aside from a past he’d rather forget and a future he has yet to truly see. Feeling like he’s always fighting against a raging whirlwind, trying to suck him back to where he used to be, each step forward reminiscent of two steps back… Maybe three. But that’s fine because Drake is more than prepared to power through. For as long as it takes. Even longer.

❝  Um… Well, we don’t exactly run in the same social circles.  ❞  Drake replies through a fond smile, wiping at his eye as he peeks at Jim from the corner of his sight. Lavender hues alight with faint wonderment of it all— subdued into a more genuine enjoyment of company, rather than the awestruck gaze of a fanboy that used to overwhelm —he admits,  ❝  Although, there were a few times I almost met you. Y’know, when you were doing those guest appearances places.  ❞  Places that weren’t quite up to par with what Jim Starling deserved, but certainly made it easy for the public to access him.  ❝  But I always chickened out at the last minute. Heheheh…  ❞  

Rubbing the back of his neck, he confides through an awkward laugh that paints his cheeks pink,  ❝  It was always just a bit too overwhelming for me.  ❞  { ☆ }

[ducktales-wco-oo]

Launchpad’s cheeks are flushed, deep blue hues gazing lovingly & admiringly at Drake. He’s just watching them putting Gosalyn to sleep, smile growing fonder & warmer at the sight of the other male’s own smile. “God, you’re so gorgeous. I love seeing you smile like that. One of the best smiles the world has to offer.”

- ✩ { @gamblealife } ✩

{ ☆ } It takes Drake a moment to realize that Launchpad is looking at him, thoughts engrossed by how peaceful Gosalyn looks sleeping… and how utterly relieved he is that he made it through another day of caring for her. While he always hoped for a family ever since he was a duckling, he never imagined that it’d come to be like this. A treacherous and emotional journey reminiscent of something he’d see on a screen rather than experience. Then again, he never expected to become an actual hero… or to be the downfall of HIS.

Never expected to meet someone as incredible as Launchpad to support him through it either… Yet here he is.

And Drake finds himself meeting that lovestruck gaze with his own, face flushing with a start as he tenses at the realization. Feathers fluffing, body stiffens as his husband speaks in that magnificent way he does. Open and honest, even while what he says sounds far too good to be true. But Launchpad seems to believe it… and that makes Drake want to as well.

Lightly laughing— more like a giggle, although he’d never admit it —Drake snickers into a closed fist, shoulders shaking with mirth mingling in his voice,  ❝  Well, as much as I want to believe ya…  ❞  Eyes opening, lavender hues sparkle as he strolls toward his partner. Walking his fingers up the larger man’s chest, he tilts his head and purrs,  ❝  I have to disagree… because I’m looking at the best smile the world has to offer.  ❞  { ☆ }

[ducktales-wco-oo]

"This is ALL YOUR fault, yanno." He's grumbling under his breath, arms folded tightly against his chest & harsh frown upon metal beak. "You just HAD to come waltzin' in 'ere with your fancy ass foot work & Oh, lookit where THAT got us! Got any tools in that cape that won't blow us up, hero?" The last word is hissed out with a touch of venom, Steelbeak eying Drake from where he stood at a safe distance. ( djkefjldkfd; JUSTKISS&MAKEUP :'DD )

- ✩ { @gamblealife } ✩

{ ☆ } Well, isn’t this just Hell incarnate? Drake can practically feel karma crawling down his back, years of payback hitting him full force as he glares over at the rooster standing a fair distance away. Misdeeds spanning all the way back to his childhood, magnified and merciless as whatever entity decides who gets to thrive in this world gives him a swift kick to the tail on par with the day he learned about Gizmoduck.

Maybe even a bit worse...

Having swooped in to foil the foul plans of F.O.W.L, as per usual, he hadn’t been surprised to see that familiar metal-mouth. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think F.O.W.L was purposely putting him against the rooster. Hell, maybe they are. Drake and Steel’s animosity certainly is blatant enough for even the higher ups to take notice of. What ‘Darkwing’ hadn’t called for was for their tussle to send them both tumbling towards a trap... One not unlike what he’d been forced to endure with Fenton, with thick walls of a strong, smooth material. Thick enough to prevent even the meat-head beside him from being able to smash his way through.

A pity. He’d prefer to spend as little time in this cage with HIM as possible. Which is why he is currently hopping on one foot, grimacing as he chokes back a scream of pain. Okay. Kicking the wall in a fit of anger? Not the best decision. Not by a long-shot. Rubbing the throbbing foot, Drake glares at Steelbeak through furious lavender hues, feathers ruffled and cheeks red from more than just humiliation.

❝  Riiiiiiiight... Excuse me for droppin’ in unannounced to stop YOU from tearing this place apart getting- getting...  ❞  Glare faltering into embarrassment, Drake is abruptly VERY aware that he has no idea what Steel had been searching for. Only that the rooster sneaking into a high-security facility could hardly mean good news. Coughing into a closed fist, gaze averts and cheeks flood further with shame. Feathers ruffling as he shakes his head, Drake sputters,  ❝  I-It doesn’t matter! Whatever you were looking for—  ❞  Thumb indignantly jabs against his chest, eyes narrowing as he spats,  ❝  I’m not letting ya get it!  ❞  

Arms crossing, he averts his face with a haughty raise of his chin, chest puffing out with an audible ‘humpf’,  ❝  And if you’re really so upset about the situation you got us into, then why don’t you do something about it? Huh, HUH? Or are ya all talk and no action—  ❞  Turning his head to look at Steel, eyes narrow as he venomously snips,  ❝  —villain?  ❞  { ☆ }

[ducktales-wco-oo]

“It’s what you do though, isn’t it? You leave people.” ( shekfjkdjlfkld; Steel/Drake )

- ✩ { @gamblealife​ } ✩ 

{ ☆ }  ❝  I leave people?  ❞  Darkwing echoes, gaze meeting Steel’s with unwavering fire, lavender burning from behind a violet mask. ❝ I leave them? ❞ Rationally, Drake can’t be too upset with Steelbeak over his retort. Not for more than how the rooster left HIM anyway. It’s not as if the other male knows about his past. Drake never shared it... Never desired to. Wanted to forget it himself. Forget being tossed around from house to house, being shunned by those who should have been his new ‘family’. Since his real one— if those absent people could even be considered parents AT ALL —met an untimely and grisly demise.

Leaving behind a young ducking who was already far too familiar with what it’s like to take care of himself.

Ostracized by his peers, disregarded by his teachers, always left behind by those he dared to call partners... No matter what Drake did or WHO he aligned himself with, it never seemed to stick. They never seemed to stick. He was never good enough to warrant them to. Logically, he knows Steelbeak isn’t aware of any of this. But logic and Drake are fickle friends, prone to disregarding each other rather easily when the situation permits.

❝ I don’t leave people! I NEVER leave someone! If I say they have me, then they have GOT me! ❞ Drake fervently spats, taking a step forward despite the foolishness of this move. Breathing heavy and costume already torn on the shoulder, eye swelling shut and blood tipping his tongue, the caped crusader seems to have caught a second wind. A burst of energy brought forth by the audacity to suggest Drake would up and leave someone. Because— ❝ It’s everyone else who decides they don’t WANT to have me! ❞

❝ You decided you’d rather be with F.O.W.L! ❞

Voice cracks at the end against his will, breathing growing slower as he swallows thickly with a tried gasp. Blinking as he feels a stinging in his eyes, vision grows blurred as hands lower limply at his sides. Tongue flitting across his lips, Drake gazes up at the looming rooster, wavering voice quiet... slightly questioning... ❝ You chose- them... over me... ❞ { ☆ }

[ducktales-wco-oo]

"You're mine." Welp- looks like someone's being posessive. With arms tightening around the porn star's torso, NegaDuck keeps the younger male in a strong hold, not intent to let go of him anytime soon.

- ✩ { @infinitexdarkwings } ✩

{ ☆ } ‘You’re mine.’ A phrase that should be troubling. Should elicit some form of indignation, spurned pride or creeping concern or anything to equate the feeling of Negaduck’s arms FIRMLY holding Drake in place. Ensuring that even if he wanted to, he couldn’t get away… And yet, it just sends a sense of satisfaction up his spine. A shiver coursing through the star’s body at the stern statement, feathers rippling in a snowy wave that curls a sly smirk onto his beak.

What can he say? It’s nice being desired… WANTED.

Strong arms holding him close rather than shoving him away? Yes, please. Content to remain securely in the older man’s embrace, lies lower halfway as he softly hums, hands deftly sliding across the other man’s arms in a teasing touch, giving them a small squeeze as he purrs,  ❝  Oh?~ Heh… Sounds like someone might be feeling a little- jealous…  ❞  

Perhaps it’s not the smartest idea to poke at Negaduck’s buttons, but Drake has never claimed to be the smartest of people. Nor has he been known to pass up a chance to rile up the possessive individual. With a warm body pressing against his own, words of want still echoing in his mind, and a subtle bond that Drake has been feeling growing in his chest for some time now— however delusional it may be —the cheeky star finds himself reciting as if reading from a script,  ❝  Penny for your thoughts, darling?~  ❞  { ☆ }

[ducktales-wco-oo]

"I want you out of my fucking head!" A snarl from the rooster, swinging a punch at the purple clad hero. "STOP getting in my way, STOP bringing these memories when you're obviously with someone else!" ( -randomly yeets Steelbeak for Drake bc -- Steelwing exes? ;3; )

- ✩ { @gamblealife } ✩

{ ☆ } Drake Darkwing yelps as he barely manages to dodge the heavy blow, ducking down and rolling to the side before hopping onto his feet. Fist clenched at his sides, feathers disheveled and breathing ragged, glare is riveted on the rampaging male. Growling under his breath at Steel’s relentless advances, Drake repeatedly hops backward to avoid punch after punch. Beak aching from one he hadn’t managed to evade, Drake doesn’t doubt that purple already blooms beneath his violet costume thanks to those unfairly-large hands. Ones that used to hold him so carefully, now thrashing at him with enraged movements. Quite a few blows seem purposely aimed at his face; something that Drake can’t help but take personally.

❝  Hey— Watch it!  ❞  He exclaims through a startled yelp, feeling wind whisk past his cheek as he stumbles back. A stupid thing to say, but one that tumbled forth without warning, indignant tone causing pink to flood from beneath his mask. Shaking his head as if attempting to literally shake away the shame, eyes narrow further and lavender flashes with annoyance.  ❝  Really? You’re getting pissed at me? YOU want ME to leave you alone?  ❞  

Ignoring the way his cheeks grow flushed at the mention of him being with Launchpad, Darkwing swings at Steelbeak. Words are emphasized by the desperate punch, fueled by the utter ridiculousness of what he’s hearing. Of what he’s feeling. Because they both know that—  ❝  YOU’RE THE ONE WHO DID THIS TO US!  ❞  

How could Steelbeak, of all people, be swayed to the side of depravity? Someone Drake had trusted. Had loved. Working alongside those heinous buzzards and conniving agents. For so long as well... even when he knew exactly how much Drake was opposing them. All that time, his identity known by one of the enemy— ... All that time. Known by Steel.

And he never said anything about it... to ANYONE.

❝   How could you betray me like that?  ❞  Another furious question, another well-aimed kick... another likely miss. Still, Drake preserves despite knowing how this fight will likely end. Neither of them winning, but neither losing either. He doesn’t know if it’s merely dumb-luck or a conscious decision, but either way it still beats being the one to bring Steel in. Just keep him from completing his mission. No more, no less. { ☆ }

[ducktales-wco-oo]

If NegaDuck were the that type of guy, he would call Drake’s demeanor as cute, dorky or even adorable. While the younger man was all of those things, the older duck would never say it aloud, instead calling him a “needy whore”, “pretty cocksleeve”, or a “delicious lamb”, all ready and heedy for the wolves to come and feast upon him. Fortunately for NegaDuck, the only wolf that will dine on the Superstar at the moment, is him and him only.

While Drake talked, the wheels in the villain’s mind turned, looked to the window of the balcony in the corner of his eye, then rested the red gaze back at Drake’s ass. NegaDuck began to get closer and closer to his prey. Without a beat, the older male tackled the Superstar to the ground while the younger was in mid sentence. Ripping off the fur-trimmed coat, a gray hand reached out grasping the back of the younger’s neck, pulling him up to the window, exposing him to the rest of St. Canard.

“I’m gonna show you to the rest of the city what a fucking stupid slut you are and I’m not gonna hear any complaints! If you do, I’m fucking you raw.”

Taking out a tube of lube that looked halfway used; the gold suited duck used his entire body weight to keep Drake underneath, regardless of the other’s struggle, if there was any. He enjoyed it when his victims did to a point. With a squelching sound of the tube; the white, watery substance poured into his hand, taking it he covered his dick, making low, guttural noises. 

Without any warning, NegaDuck forced his prick into Drake’s entrance, keeping his hold, pinning Drake to the cold, glass window.

- ✩ { @infinitexdarkwings } ✩

{ ☆ } Drake is accustomed to Negaduck’s rough treatment; it’s one of his favorite parts of the older male’s voracious appetite. A hunger that Drake prides himself on being so good at satiating. Because even with all the demeaning names, the harsh treatment and exhausting sex... there IS a sense of pride in it. More than Drake has felt with a lot of things, if he’s being honest. Because here’s this ravenous beast, this prowling rabid wolf... and he’s got his sights firmly set on a certain violet-eyed rabbit.

One who can get mauled and mangled within an inch of his life and not only handle it, but enjoy it. Who else can claim that? And even if there is another... Drake wouldn’t hesitate to declare himself the BEST. Draped in Negaduck’s ‘gift’— even if the coat is stripped off within seconds —Drake is feeling pretty damn important.

Only seems right that the city gets to know it too.

Drake slips into the role like second nature, this one feeling more natural than anything he’s played before. Hell, maybe it can’t even be considered one anymore... Negaduck might have approached ‘Superstar’ for his services, but Drake Mallard is feeling more than happy to indulge in the other’s twisted fantasies. Grunting at the impact, small growls slip through his throat as Drake begins to struggle. Nothing too intense, although he doesn’t doubt Negaduck’s strength. Just enough to jostle the other male, so it’s a bit of a challenge for Negs to get himself ready. He’s learned that Negs enjoys a struggle... and Drake often gets a more RIGOROUS fuck when he’s a little difficult before surrendering into the needy mess they are both looking for.

❝  Is that a promise?~  ❞  Drake cheekily growls at the threat, roughly pushing his ass against Negaduck’s hips to emphasize the statement. However, there’s no denying the shudder that wracks his body at the sound of Negaduck preparing himself. Those low sounds draw forth choked whimpers from the porn star against his will, cheeks dusting with betraying warmth that he feels pooling to his gut, making his body flush with a heat that makes the cold glass feel BITING against it. Muttering a soft  ❝  Fuck  ❞  under his breath at the sensation, breathing grows quicker as heart starts to pound with impatience.

Internal mantra of hurry up, hurry up, hurry the FUCK UP— is broken by a gasp when Negaduck enters him, eyes widening with shock and body tensing for a moment at the harsh thrust. Pain assaulting his ass at the forced introduction, tears prick at his eyes even as a shaky moan tears itself from Drake’s throat, pleasure rushing over him in tandem as fingers curl against the smooth glass, futilely trying to fid something to grab onto and steady himself.

Swallowing thickly at the sudden feeling of being filled, muscles clench around Negaduck’s prick in an instinctive want, his own member already attempting to slide from snowy feathers. Chest heaving in a gasp for breath, Drake arches his back to further press against Negaduck’s hips, trying to force the duck in even DEEPER despite the burning sensation. If anything- he welcomes it.  ❝  FUCK... W-Warn a guy, next time...  ❞  Drake breathes, still trying to showcase some semblance of composure... even if the trembling of his legs undermine it. { ☆ }   

[ducktales-wco-oo]

“I took care of it. Forgetaboutit.”

NegaDuck shrugged off Drake, all the while keeping a stoic face when any look at him would tip them off- he was in a really bad fight with multiple parties. He just..needed to sit down, get the first aid kit, probably a lot of liquor to numb the pain and black out...

- ✩ { @infinitexdarkwings } ✩

{ ☆ } Drake has done his far share of bullshitting and he doesn’t think it’s tooting his own horn too much to claim that he can spot it from other people. Then again, it’d be hard for anyone to miss how fucked up the other man is. Drake would dare-say that it’s one of the worst cases he’s seen and he has seen A LOT of beaten bodies in his life. The majority being his, but still… at the moment, that’s a blessing in disguise. If not that, it’s at least making it much easier to know what to do in this situation.

Even if tending to his own injuries is substantially easier since his stubborn ego is cast to the side… provided there’s no one around to WITNESS him struggling. Hence the issue here.

Thankfully, Drake’s stubbornness is allowed to be front and center as well.

Hands raise to show that he doesn’t plan on unwanted touching, but brows knit and beak tugged into a thin argumentative line. Still hovering close to the injured man, gaze flits up and down to study his state,  ❝  Kinda hard to forget when you’re bleeding all over the carpet.  ❞  He dryly states, joke slipping out instinctively to the stressful situation. Nodding inside towards the couch, he continues in a subtler tone,  ❝  C’mon, you might as well bleed all over the couch instead…  ❞  

Heading towards the dresser where he keeps a little kit— it’s handy to keep several around with the activities they both get into —Drake rummages through it in search of the box, sparing a glance over his shoulder at Negaduck,  ❝  Can I get ya anything? You know, besides keeping your insides from falling out…  ❞  { ☆ }

[ducktales-wco-oo]

"...Call me Jim." NegaDuck said as if out of nowhere. With Drake in his arms and lounging on the couch. "That's my real name." (PornStar!AU)

- ✩ { @infinitexdarkwings } ✩

{ ☆ } Drake is a notable actor. He’s had to be throughout his life to survive it and as it became his passion, he learned how to hone his skills into something greater… yet even with ample warning, he doesn’t think he could have managed to mask his surprise. Hearing the older man’s voice cut through a rarely-serene silence— Drake comfortable in the other’s embrace, a content hum slipping free as he stretched and shifted —was a small shock to the peace, the admission causing soft quizzicalness to become full-on surprise.

Sucking in a breath, body tensing and wide-eyed gaze darting to Negad— Jim before he could stop it, it takes him a moment to relax. Realizing that a big deal is likely NOT what he should be making of the situation, he blinks and looks in front of himself again, cheeks flushing with color and gaze flitting to the floor as he shuffles against Jim again, trying to ease his body back into its former liquidated state, simply supported by the other male as if melted into the embrace.

❝  Okay… Jim.  ❞  He quietly responds, unable to keep from smiling softly as the name leaves his beak, cheek resting on the other man’s chest and the arm languidly wrapped around the other’s waist tightening a smidge. Not enough to prevent Jim from moving or even leaving if he wanted, but pressure there nonetheless. A subtle way for Drake to return the hold while still retaining some air of casualty… both for himself and the other man.

Otherwise, he might be inviting more trouble than necessary.

❝  Y’know— Feel free to call me Drake. Every once in a while or something…  ❞  The star lamely adds, feeling like he should return the gesture as best he can. Even though his name isn’t exactly a secret, it’s also not exactly USED— for varying reasons —in their situation. Not to say that his recording name is used all that often either. Still, it feels like the thing to do- mentioning it as an alternate to the usual ‘pet-names’ he’s graced with. Shrugging lightly, he emits a chuff of a breath and awkwardly adds,  ❝  Just ‘cause y’know— that’s my name….  ❞  

Does he get one though? It’s not like he’s an idiot. He knows what this arrangement is. What HE is to Neg- Jim. What he is to most people… He’s not Drake when he’s with the older man. He’s ‘Superstar’ and he does exactly as Superstar is supposed to do. Just, a private performance… and more indulgent than even his filming sessions often allow. But still, that’s not enough to equate Drake Mallard. He could never unleash the full Drake Mallard when around this man. No matter how much moments like this threaten to make him want to. 

Brows knit in contemplation, gaze lowered and body ironically back to its calm state as he mulls over his own senseless desires, eyes shut as Drake figures he might as well try to get a bit of rest and respite from it all. It doesn’t seem like Jim is planning on anything more than just holding him for the moment anyway… { ☆ }

[ducktales-wco-oo]

🤱 ‘ + Hey Drake, how was your mom's cooking?

{ ☆ }  ❝  Oh... Well, uh... I don’t really—  ❞  Drake awkwardly begins with a bark of a laugh and a rub of the back of his neck, gaze averting to the side as he feels a forbidding chill travel up his spine that he had hoped was long dea— overcome. Truthfully, he tries to keep from thinking of his mother. His parents in general. Not that they were bad people! At least, not by the standards he’s witnessed and experienced elsewhere. Not even close. Absent, perhaps... Uninterested. Unsupportive. Un— Oh. Right.

Cooking.

❝  I usually just whipped up whatever I could, since there was always food in the house and my parents were always—  ❞  Not. Coughing into his closed fist, hands then move to rest at his sides, chest puffed out and haughty confidence radiating off in waves, attempting to drown out the uncertainty of before,  ❝  I got pretty good if I do say so myself! You’d be surprised what a kid can learn to make with grit, determination—  ❞  Hunger.  ❝  —and NO adult supervision. Heheh... Heh...  ❞  What is meant to be a show of levity just ends up sounding false. Weak. And Drake can practically hear his theatre teachers lamenting about it.

Cheeks tinting pink with shame, gaze flits away as Drake suppresses a grimace as best he can. He knows he’s really just avoiding the question. He wasn’t asked about how well HE can cook; even if he is working on a cookbook and likes to think his recipes are pretty good whenever he manages to follow his own instructions correctly. Damn milk. He was asked about his mother’s cooking. He just... wishes he could think of something to say that wouldn’t be a bald-faced lie.

It’s not so much the act of lying that bothers him. He’s done it before and will do it again. Just comes with the territory, be it heroing, acting, existing... It’s the need to. The realization that he couldn’t recall how a meal of his mom’s tasted to save his life. Not a single, solitary one. But- that can’t be right. Certainly he had a favorite meal. A favorite memory. Hell, even one that SUCKED. At least it’d be something to say.

Something to have.

❝  I uh... I’m even writing a cookbook now. Figure it might help some other kid in need of... stuff to whip up when the parents are out. Had to make some substitutions when it came to ingredients in my earlier recipes though.  ❞  Another cough into his fist, gaze averting and cheeks dusted pink. ❝ Not everyone has access to the kinda stuff I did...  ❞  That is, before— ...

❝  I dunno. Maybe it’ll do someone some good.  ❞  { ☆ }

[ducktales-wco-oo]

“I wish I meant something to you” / gizmo to darkwing :3c

- ✩ { @warraigoe } ✩

{ ☆ } Fenton Gizmoduck just can’t seem to stop from grinding his metaphorical gears. As if sucking up all the admiration and crime available in Duckburg AND St. Canard— as well as sending poor, sweet, totally-couldn’t-be-that-bucket-of-bolts because that’s literally a crime against God in his stead —wasn’t enough, now he’s got his tail in a twist because he ‘doesn’t mean something’ to HIM? To the guy he’s constantly upstaging? The one he nitpicks and acts so superior towards? 

Oh, you’ve saved Duckburg by yourself plenty of times before? Gee, wonder what that must be like since SOMEONE won’t let him so much as go after a measly bank robbery without sticking his beak where it doesn’t belong. True, there isn’t too much crime in St. Canard because of the... vigilant police officers. But still, Drake would appreciate at least being allowed their table scraps.

Allowed a CHANCE.

The tightening in his gut must be bubbling up frustration with the overrated hack. As per usual... With- whoever is in there. Because if there’s ONE thing Drake Mallard knows is true— and there isn’t much of that to spare —it’s that the pompous, self-pitying Gizmodunce couldn’t possibly be one of Drake’s closest friends. Couldn’t be the one who supplied him with all of his tech, supports him and cares for him and listens to him and— ...

Fenton means so much to him... Gizmoduck doesn’t.

He can’t... He WON’T

❝  Why?  ❞  Drake Darkwing spats in a terse tone, arms crossed and eyes narrowing as he glances over at the armor-clad hero. Lavender hues glinting and feathers bristling slightly, the knots in his stomach grow to troublesome amounts but he shoves them down like he always does when it comes to the deceptively ‘well-meaning’ hero,  ❝  Isn’t the love and adulation of Duckburg AND my citizens enough? Don’t you have enough people singing your praises already?  ❞  

Snippily huffing, he quirks a brow,  ❝  Why does the LOWLY opinion of one woefully under-appreciated crusader of justice matter to the likes of YOU?  ❞  { ☆ }

[ducktales-wco-oo]

Jim was scribbling down notes, while typing on his laptop “job searching”. Every now and then, Launchpad or Gosalyn would come in talking to him. Launchpad there would be extensive conversations about Darkwing Duck. They even joked around, a bit of “old Jim” revealing itself.

Gosalyn would come in with her array of questions and remarks that made Jim genuinely laugh out loud, finding her to be the most tolerable of the three. Even if she out of all of them was the most suspicous of the old man’s motives.

Unknownst to either one, Drake was hidden under the table, with the elder duck’s cock in his mouth, warming it while Jim was websearching.

Teasing the younger, the elder tilted his hips into the other’s mouth, forcing down more of his cock down his throat.

Once Launchpad and Gosalyn left the room, Jim inquired with a teasing glint in his eye.

“Are you enjoying yourself Drakey?~”

- ✩ { @infinitexxxdarkwings } ✩

{ ☆ } Keeping quiet is far harder than Drake thought it would be... With the feeling of Jim’s dick in his mouth, resting perfectly against his tongue, pre dripping onto his tastebuds and heat blossoming across it from the throbbing, Drake’s entire body is alight with pleasure. The warmth in his mouth spreading to his legs, pooling in between them as he struggles to keep from palming at his own aching member, barely keeping concealed behind snowy plumage. Throat bobs as he swallows around Jim’s cock, tongue sliding across its length and a whimper clogging in his throat as he desperately wants to indulge in the sensation.

Wants to moan loudly around it, wants to bob and suck and wordlessly plead for more while Jim grins down at him, cobalt hues focused on him and him alone... But when stuck under the desk, and with the company of others, all he can do is silently squirm; yearning with eyes closed and breathing heavy as he pictures the other male’s gaze, imagines him touching him... talking to him... taking him in every way possible... Shivering with pleasure, the threat of being discovered and the desire for more simply spurring on his sensations, he can’t decide whether this is a dream or utter torture.

Perhaps, like many things in their ‘relationship’, it’s a bit of both.

A strained whimper slips free when Jim angles his hips, Drake beyond grateful that the click of a door being closed had happened prior, a sigh of relief trapped in his chest as he chokes on the elder duck’s cock. A hand shakily reaches between his legs, Drake desperate to take advantage of the moment of respite, kneading and palming at the shimmering head already peeking free, the rest of Drake’s length quick to slip into his palm. Hard and glistening in seconds, hand begins to jack himself off at a frantic pace, smearing pre across his hand as he trembles violently with pleasure, tongue lapping eagerly around the dick in his mouth.

Groaning lightly, movements suddenly grind to an abrupt halt at the sound of Jim’s voice aimed at him, eyes snapping open and face flushed scarlet. Hand still gripping at a messy member, so achingly close to release, Drake looks like someone with their hand stuck in the cookie jar, beads of sweat on his brow and chest heaving as he tries to keep from pushing himself over the edge. Again, being denied release— by his own hand, nonetheless —is a mixed feeling... An intoxicating and torturous sensation.

Fingers flexing around his shaft, Drake whines around Jim’s dick, head giving a tentative bob, shoving him even deeper into his warm throat, questioning gaze not leaving the other male’s. Despite not speaking a word, his frazzled intentions are clear. As wonderfully fun as this is... he wants more. Oh God, please let him have more. { ☆ }

[ducktales-wco-oo]

Morgana Macawber. That name would forever be burned in the pilot's memory. He's seen the fleeting glances, not particularly the way Drake saw her, but he's definitely taken notice of the way SHE looked at him. Which explains the current insecure feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. "Hey, uh, Drake, you got a minute?" Fingers toy with each other, gaze glancing off to a random spot on the floor. "Just outta curiosity, do you still love me?" ( Meme called for a jelly LP, kay? :'D )

- ✩ { @gamblealife​​ } ✩

✩ { Meme } ✩

{ ☆ } It had been a real flash from the past seeing Morgana... One that had turned Drake into a flustered and bumbling mess. Not from any romantic feelings or intent, but just- more the shock of seeing the woman again. Of hearing a voice that used to make his knees buckle from awe rather than nerves. Seeing glances that would make his heart race and his mouth dry, but now just caused his brow to sweat and a entice desire for the world to open up and swallow him whole. He was being ridiculous. He knows this. There was no reason to be so... awkward.

It’s not as if Morg was carrying any lingering feelings towards him, after all. Thinking anything different would just be flattering himself. While Drake might never pass up a chance to toot his own horn, even HE knows that more often than not- he’s just blowing smoke. Morgana is a tall, shapely, intelligent and literally magical woman... a knock-out like that wouldn’t have trouble getting any person she wanted. When they decided to separate— passions and dreams taking precedence over their relationship —it had been mutual, bittersweet but... necessary.

At least, he likes to think it was.

Regardless, Drake can’t deny the relief that rushed through him when he and Launchpad were finally on their own, a heavy whoosh of a breath escaping him as he rests a hand over his heart. Blinking quizzically, he looks up at LP when he speaks, a soft frown tugging at his beak as he carefully reaches over and takes a larger hand in his own.  ❝  Wha-? Of course I do...  ❞  He states, offering a gentle smile as his other hand moves to hold LP’s. Gazing up at the pilot, cheeks dust with warmth and lavender hues remain riveted on blue,  ❝  I’ll ALWAYS love you, LP. You’re my partner...  ❞  Word is stated with conviction, the word meaning more than either of them could possibly explain. A partner in life, fighting crime, caring for Gos...

Someone who Drake can depend on.

Smile slips into a concerned expression, hands giving LP’s a small squeeze as he inquires,  ❝  Why the sudden question? This... doesn’t have anything to do with running into Morg, does it?  ❞  Swallowing thickly, feathers ruffle and gaze darts to the side as cheeks flood with further warmth, a vibrant pink as he stammers,  ❝  I-I know I was kinda... weird back there, but- but it didn’t mean anything. I was just- It was just- WEIRD y’know, seeing her again and I felt... weird.  ❞  He finishes lamely with a wince, wondering why all the other words in existence seem to have left his vocabulary. Sighing, shoulders droop slightly as he looks up at LP.

 ❝  But that’s my problem. Not your’s... and it has nothing to do with how I feel about you. I promise.  ❞  { ☆ }

[ducktales-wco-oo]

“i want you to touch yourself for me.” ( Jimrake ) - ✩ { @amaranthinemuses​​ } ✩

{ ☆ } To say that Drake is inexperienced with stuff like... this would be an understatement. To say that he’s currently screaming internally at hearing the voice of his hero, the man he based his entire life upon, his second sexual awakening— there was a brief relapse where he thought the boner Quackerjack gave him might have been a fluke... it was soon proven NOT to be —telling him that he wants to- wants to see him... He actually WANTS— Well, if one could read his thoughts it’d only last a brief moment before they went deaf.

Thankfully this glass-shattering scream is not a reality, and the only actual noise Drake manages to make is a horrifically-awkward laugh. Sputtering as his face flushes a vivid pink, chest heaves in time with his frantic heartbeat as if the excited organ is literally RAMMING against it. Gaze averted to the side— Drake unable to look over at the expectant actor —one hand grips bedsheets tightly while the other hand raises to shakily move towards his crotch, ❝  O-Okay... If that’s, heh.., that’s what you want I’m sure as heck not gonna argue! I’ll just— Ahem... I’ll just get it—  ❞  Hand slipping between his legs, breath hitches and interrupts his unnecessary, nerve-induced commentary. ❝  —out.  ❞  He weakly finishes, hand barely palming the area before he feels something slick and hard pressing against it.

It’s not too surprising considering who is also on his bed. Frankly, he’s shocked that he managed to keep from going full mast this long. After all, it’s like one of his fantasies come to life. Even if he’s usually much more suave and composed and just- the epitome of sex-appeal in those imaginings. Far from the flushed, fluffed, frazzled mess he is now. Fingers sinking into plush plumage, he bites his bottom lip and firmly fondles himself. Beads of sweat forming on his brow, eyes squeeze shut as his length slips between his hand, already slick with pre as it slides across his palm.

❝  F-Fuck...  ❞  He whimpers as fingers curl around it and begin to slide up and down in a steady rhythm, grasp tight and nerves tingling from his touch. ❝  I-I’ve never actually did- hgngnnn... did this with s-someone watching...  ❞  He breathes, swallowing a lump in his throat as an eye peeks open, only faintly realizing that his movements are growing faster. ❝  Especially not someone like y-you... I mean- not on purpo—  ❞  Eyes grow wide as he chokes back his words, biting his tongue HARSHLY enough to entice a whine. But at least he stopped from bringing up that humiliating instance. Kinda. Even so, he can’t help but grimace at the mere thought, ❝  N-Nevermind...  ❞ { ☆ }