#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴ'ꜱ ʜᴇʟᴘʟᴇꜱꜱ; ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ ʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ꜱᴄʀᴇᴀᴍɪɴɢ 'ʜᴇʟʟ ʏᴇꜱ' ❞ ◌ ᴘᴏʀɴ ꜱᴛᴀʀ ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Fenton 」

[ducktales-wco-oo]

"Stay. Away. From. My. Boyfriend." With every purposeful step towards "Duckie", every word was enunciated threateningly. Using his mere bulky size to intimidate, he boxes Fenton in to the wall. "You'll only make it worse for yourself AND Drake Jose." (PS!AU Jensen @ Fenton)

- ✩ { @multiohseas } ✩

{ ☆ } So, this is the notorious acclaimed Jensen... Fenton had been feeling wary about Drake’s partner ever since he started discerning a bit more about the relationship. Not that any concrete evidence had come to light or even been mentioned. It was more a manner of observing Drake’s mannerisms, understanding when he’s happy... and when he’s not. Jensen just so happens to be a very common factor when it comes to one of those emotions. Still, Fenton hadn’t wanted to make unfair assumptions, fearful of his opinion possibly being tainted by- certain influences.

Although this abrupt and confrontational meeting is rather validating.

Taking a step back to match each of Jensen’s, feathers ruffle further with unease when his back abruptly hits the wall, Fenton glancing behind him for a moment as if needing confirmation it’s actually there and not merely the tension in the air becoming too thick to pass through. Shoulders stiff and chest tight, he grimaces at the unwelcome sight, quick to refocus his attention back on the looming canine. Brows knit and a contemplative frown in his beak, gaze flits up and down to take in the others threatening appearance. Trying to gauge how to best handle the situation.

He doesn’t want to cause unnecessary problems for Drake. More than he already has. But the possessiveness in front of him is all-too-familiar. Although Fenton’s never had experience being the one threatened before. He’s certainly seen what an aggravated boyfriend can DO to those poor people though... And yet—

❝  My name is Fenton...  ❞  He tersely responds, feathers bristling at the purposeful nickname. Looking up at Jensen with surprising unwavering, the far-smaller male makes no move to retreat— aside from his back pressing firmly against the wall.  ❝  And I happen to be Drake’s friend.  ❞  And Drake is his... His BEST friend, if he’s being honest. Fenton might not allow himself to be so when it comes to many things, but that title isn’t one of them.

❝  And as such, I assure you there’s nothing emotionally-inappropriate happening between us. Drake would never hurt someone in that way.  ❞  Fenton bites his tongue to refrain from adding how Drake is one of the most loyal people Fenton knows. Figuring that hearing Fenton adore admire the snowy mallard too openly would just further infuriate the dog. But the stern tone, the unwitting finality of his gaze, Fenton insulted on Drake’s behalf, speak volumes. Fists clenched at his sides to keep them from nervously fidgeting or pointing accusatorially— he honestly doesn’t know which —he fervently adds,  ❝  We’re simply friends and co-workers... Which heh, would make it immensely difficult for me to stay away from Drake even if I desired to.  ❞  

With how intimately-intertwined— so to speak —their filming schedules are, them simply working in the same profession causes a plethora of problems with Jensen’s request. Unfortunately for Fenton’s point, and likely Jenson’s temper, just the mere thought of his and Drake’s constant pairing-up when it comes to... creating content, causes tawny cheeks to flush, Fenton swallowing thickly as thick plumage fluffs with embarrassment— or perhaps shame —at the heat he can feel flooding his entire being. Choosing to ignore it in the hopes that Jensen will too, Fenton simply takes a deep breath and tersely states—

❝  Which I would never because I CARE about him... and as his partner, HIS happiness should be your top priority as well.  ❞  { ☆ }

[ducktales-wco-oo]

✩ { @aflockoffeathers​​​ } ✩ - Continued from ★

{ ☆ } Never had Fenton thought that Falcon would feel the same way he does. Never dreamed that the other male even could. For so long, Falcon was an unattainable desire; a man made of compassion and intelligence, of kind eyes and a smile that shines with sincerity, of an unbelievably beautiful soul... wrapped in an unbelievably BUILT body. Not that Fenton’s attraction to Falcon has anything to do with the other’s appearance, the small duck having been drawn to how... calming and caring Falcon was since their first conversation.

But he’d be a liar if he stated that large arms holding him close, and a hard chest to feel and press against, wasn’t an appealing bonus... VERY appealing. Even the low-libido duck isn’t completely devoid of turn-ons.

Evident by the way he’d melted into soft kisses, beak smoothly opening for slow affection. Tongues intertwining with soft sounds as Fenton relished Falcon’s taste, lovingly offering his own as if experienced for the first time. Gasping as large hands slid across his diminuative form, gentle moans were muffled against the other’s mouth; whimpers of desire arising as his clothes fell, feathers fluffing from the brief chill... before the warmth of Falcon’s touch, of his PRESENCE, drove it all away.

A warmth he can feel flooding his face, cheeks painted scarlet.

Trembling lightly from far more than just the air hitting his bare form, head lolls back and breath hitches before flooding out in a shaky exhale, heat accosting his sensitive neck in the firm of wet kisses. Moaning softly as the area is littered with affection, he breathlessly says Falcon’s name, wanting to hear it, to feel it on his tongue. Hands rub against the looming male’s back, threading through feathers and gently clutching at plumage as he feels large hands slide down his own diminuative body. Feathers fluffing from his touch, legs offer no resistance as they are spread apart.

Breathing already turning into gentle pants, he swallows thickly as he feels Falcon’s thick length pressing against his entrance, body tensing for a moment— nerves touching him even now, gaze matching Falcon’s as the importance of this moment washes over them —before Fenton relaxes, eyes fluttering shut as his body welcomes Falcon, muscles stretching to accommodate the thick girth. Gasping at the sensation, familiar and yet different all at once, hands grasping at bedsheets in a shaky grip, feathers already lightly dampening with sweat as his body starts to burn from the inside. But it’s a good heat... a welcome heat...

The kind that makes his face flush rose and Falcon’s name flow from his lips, soft and full of desire as he feels his partner carefully start to move. Each movement, no matter how slight, caresses his senses, Fenton feeling his partner rock into him DEEP and slow... Melting into the embrace as arms move to hold him close, he quickly clutches at Falcon’s back, wanting to be completely enveloped by the larger male. A blissful smile overtakes his face as kisses are peppered against it, Fenton returning them as best he can.

Tenderly kissing Falcon’s face— covering his cheeks and beak —he then captures Falcon’s lips in a kiss, moaning against his partner’s mouth as his tongue explores, as deep and slow as his thrusts. A hand moves to entangle his fingers in Falcon’s headfeathers, mussing up the normally-pristine strands as he angles his head to more comfortably meet that hooked beak. When air becomes something he can no longer ignore— even at the cost of Falcon’s taste —Fenton pulls back, softly panting against Falcon’s mouth. Hazel hues fluttering open to meet the bird of prey’s gaze, the small duck looks so vulnerable. Emotions and heart bared completely to the other, Fenton breathlessly says against Falcon’s mouth—

❝ I love you, Falcon... Te amo... ❞ { ☆ }

[ducktales-wco-oo]

“You’re not going out in that outfit.” ( Mark/Fenton Ps!au protecc. )

- ✩ { @gamblealife } ✩

{ ☆ }  Fenton normally doesn’t wear clothes like this when not filming, not that he has anything against the style. In fact, one would say that it suits the small duck rather well... It’s just not what he’d personally choose, usually preferring comfortable shirts when not needing to be in more formal situations, and even then he’d only put on a nice tie. Nothing overly flashy or provocative, just a nerdy garment suffices. Unfortunately for him, his clothes were caught in the passionate aftermath of a recording session, soiled and torn beyond repair. Not the first time something like that had happened, but definitely the first time when his spare clothes had been inconveniently left at home... Forcing the small duck to wear the only thing he could find available.

Draped in a virgin killer sweater, pale yellow fabric hugging his body and allowing plush feathers to spill out, creating a tawny heart deep in the shaped-keyhole, Fenton peeks his head out the hall and glances around. Face bathed in warmth and plumage fluffing with embarrassment at being adorned in this while outside of the recording room, he swallows thickly and starts hurrying down the hallway, headfeathers still in disarray that is very well known amongst his co-workers and afterglow still clinging to his cheeks. Biting his bottom lip, gaze nervously darts around to see if anyone else had been saddled with a late night assignment, but the building seems clear.

Tugging at the cute lavender choker snugly tied around his neck— he had difficulties unclasping it from the back —he swallows thickly before closing his eyes and releasing a deep breath, shoulders hunching as he rounds a corner— and promptly bumps into Mark. Frantically apologizing at the mistake, eyes wide and feathers ruffled, gaze roams over the parrot to ensure that he is alright, only faintly noticing the question about why he is here so late at night and where he is going.  ❝  O-Oh, I was scheduled for a last minute session... My partner already left a while ago, so now I’m heading home.  ❞  

However, studying halts at the following statement, eyes snapping up to Mark’s face at the stern tone. Quizzical at the blatant firmness in the others demeanor, Fenton supposes that he can understand Mark’s concern. It is pitch black outside and everyone is aware that he has to walk home. A diminutive and adorable duck, dressed in such a manner and still bathed in the scent of sex, would likely be quite the target for whatever... unsavory skulkers may be lurking in the city. Especially with the area they happen to be in. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t surprising to see such protectiveness from the other male. True, he knew they were friends... and Mark has been nothing but kind and generous towards him... but there’s something intense in the way the taller male regards him. Something that makes his feathers fluff further, cheeks dusting with heat for FAR more than what this place normally brings.

Still, he figures that he should attempt to put Mark’s worries to rest.

Fingers tapping against one another, brows knit with unease as he admits with a wince,  ❝  Well, I uh... I don’t exactly have a choice.  ❞  Gaze sheepishly averting, hands clasp behind his back, unwittingly displaying the heart cut out on his ensemble’s chest, soft feathers fluffing with every delicate breath,  ❝  My personal clothes were ruined and this was all I could attain... It’s either this or I partake in the trek home entirely nude.  ❞  He adds with a weak chuckle, attempting to jokingly downplay his embarrassment,  ❝  Well, aside from this—  ❞  A finger tugs at the choker once more, gaze peeking at Mark,  ❝  —since I’m having some difficulties removing it.  ❞  Of course, he could always ask-

❝  Unless- Heh, would you mind undressing me?  ❞  Fenton asks, unwittingly coy as big, hazel hues innocently look up at Mark... before it abruptly hits him to elaborate—  ❝  Th-The accessory, I mean!  ❞  Hands frantically wave in front of himself, eyes wide and face scarlet with shame, chest heaving with quickened breaths as his heart POUNDS against it, the frazzled duck looking much like he tends to do before things become... interesting in his videos. Frankly, with the fumbled scenario, flattering clothes, and pair of ‘actors’, if one didn’t know any better, they may assume this was the start of one.

Fenton’s dialogue certainly doesn’t help matters. { ☆ }

[ducktales-wco-oo]

[FalconFent PSAU]  33. for our muses to try a new position 

- ✩ { @aflockoffeathers​ } ✩

{ ☆ } They are a popular pairing, to be sure... Which isn’t surprising, considering their easily-flustered demeanors and natural chemistry. From their size difference to their attractive appearances, the combination just WORKS, as the money and loyal viewers can fervently attest. Which is why it’s hardly surprising that the directors began taking special interest in them, wanting to experiment and see what exactly tickled the audience’s fancy. From props to plot-lines to positions, suggestions were quick to flow... and while some left Fenton cringing— not that he ever openly-complained, that was where Falcon often lended a hand to his more soft-spoken co-worker —he must admit that THIS is something he actually enjoys.

Enjoys quite a lot actually.

Held up in Falcon’s arms, supported by nothing but the larger male— they were informed that his back could be against the wall if need be, but with Falcon’s prowess and his diminutive size, there was no need to risk obscuring the view —legs are wrapped around his partner’s waist, gripping him tightly while an arm slings over one of his shoulders, free hand resting against his chest, fingers splayed and heart POUNDING noticeably beneath them. Head angled back as a beak sifts through his neck feathers, breath hitches as the supple flesh is nipped, a shaky moan escaping him— the small duck seeming to completely forget about the invasive cameras positioned around the recording room —when Falcon bites down and begins to suck.

Moan is interrupted by a sharp cry as Falcon’s hips give a hitch upward, the dick buried within him moving even deeper to toy against his prostate, nerves alight and tight muscles clenching around the large member.  ❝  Gr-Gravesy...  ❞  Fenton whimpers, eyes squeezed shut as heat rushes through his body, making his cheeks burn a vibrant rose. Hand atop of the other’s heart clutches at chest feathers, the other one gripping at his partner’s back, digging into plumage as he feels the hand supporting his fluffy rear do the same, fingers grasping at his cheek for a better hold. 

❝ Aa-ahhhh~  ❞  Fenton moans as he is bounced atop of the other’s dick, back arching in pleasure while warm and wanting kisses are peppered across his neck and chest. Angling his head back so Falcon can have better access, chest heaves with light pants as his heart races behind it, senses alight and world growing hazed aside from him and-  ❝  Falcon~  ❞  Fenton moans, blissfully unaware that he neglected to use his partner’s  Filming Name. { ☆ }

[ducktales-wco-oo]

✩ { @amaranthinemuses } ✩ - Continued from ★

{ ☆ } Fenton hadn’t even meant to speak, the words had simply... come out. Flowing breathlessly from his beak as he panted, moans heavily lacing them as eyes squeezed shut tighter, muscles around Drake’s dick doing the same. True, this feels AMAZING. It always does with Drake. With each powerful thrust, Fenton feels himself being lead closer and closer to the edge again. Can feel his body being roughly shoved into the desk, the resounding thuds mingling with it noisily shaking from the force of their movements. Hands claw at the prop’s surface, searching for something— anything —to stabilize himself with, the wooden edge jabbing into his stomach and the FIRM grip Drake has on him feeling as if they’re the only things keeping him from getting completely swept away by ecstasy. This feels more than just amazing. It feels perfect.

Too perfect, if he’s being honest... Fenton is known for being an accommodating and versatile ‘actor’. Paired with a variety of people and filming more often than most thanks to his willingness to help out even with the shortest of notice. But despite his wide array of partners, none make him feel like Drake does. No one else sends him into a spiral the way ‘Danger Duck’ can. No one brings forth such raw, genuine desire and fulfillment like the mallard currently tearing apart his backside. With how particular Fenton’s libido can be, feeling a connection like THIS isn’t something to be taken lightly... and that’s what worries him.

Because when he said it feels good to be close to Drake, he had meant... it- feels good.

Filming with Drake, spending time with Drake, talking to him, being taken care of by him, knowing him... It all feels so good. “Aa-aaaaaah!~ O-Oh dios mio~ Y-yes... YES!” He cries out in response to Drake, the taller duck’s echoing screams sounding like music to his ears. Crude as it may be, hearing Drake enjoying himself immensely, it makes Fenton’s entire body explode with heat that leaks straight to his cock, dripping profusely and dribbling onto already-stained feathers. “Dr- Danger, please-“ Nearly calling him by his real name, however, is something he needs to avoid.

He can’t handle a slip up of that degree. No matter how fogged his mind may be, how much he might be gasping and trembling thanks to Dr- Danger Duck’s dizzying and masterful rhythm— surprising as it may seem, the small and sweet duck always was weak for someone utterly DESTROYING him in fits of passion —he can’t let it slip just how deeply this ‘lust’ secretly runs. He has a boyfriend, worrisome as that relationship might actually be. But aside from that, Drake is his closest friend. “F-Faster... Ha-arder! Hghgghnnn...” He can’t lose him over something as inconsequential as feelings for him, or a habit of pretending the cameras don’t exist when they’re together.

Even if he knows that cameras are capturing every minute of their frenzy, likely zooming in close on his flushed face and sweat-dampened feathers. A director witnessing how he LOUDLY cries out for more— “A-ahhhhhh! ¡Por favor, no pares!~” —or how he gasps when his shoulder is bitten— a shudder of pleasure ruffling his feathers and causing tawny ones to mingle further with snowy plumage —back arching to better press himself against the body enticingly covering his own, to better shove his fluffy rear further against Drake’s hips. An audience soon to witness what should be an intimate moment... What he desperately wishes was an intimate moment.

But for now- forever, it’s just... a project of sorts. { ☆ }

[ducktales-wco-oo]

"Hey! So...you're the new guy right?" A pale hand scratches behind his head. "I'm somewhat new too, mind if I sit here?" Drake motioned towards the seat next to the up and coming "Duckie". (PS!AU OBVs. I haven't thought of any substancial for my Drake, he just wanted to pipe in.)  - ✩ { @amanymusings​ } ✩

{ ☆ } To say that Fenton is nervous would be an understatement. To say that he’s a bit jumpy would be even more so. Body stiff and fingers rapidly tapping against each other, gaze wanders around the area at his new ‘co-workers’. Careful not to make eye contact, gaze lowers whenever the chance arises, face growing warmer with each social fumble. Biting his bottom lip, mind races between introducing himself, which is the polite thing to do, or allowing the floor to swallow him whole… Which is the more appealing of the two options.

But before he has a chance to gather up the courage to move, aside from his anxious fidgeting, someone makes the choice for him. With a startled quack, flinching so violently that he nearly falls off his perch, hands race to grasp the seat of his chair to steady himself. Swallowing a lump in his throat, gaze raises to meet the stranger’s, a sheepish smile quick to form on his beak as an embarrassed laugh slips out of it. Feathers ruffled and heart pounding from the spike of adrenaline, he awkwardly motions at the empty seat beside him.

“O-Of course! I-I mean, heh... No, I don’t mind in the slightest! In fact, I’d be pleased to have your company!” Voice cracks, Fenton wincing before clearing his throat— gaze lowered and brows furrowing as he internally kicks himself —attempting to speak in a less-frantic tone, “S-Sorry…” He begins, voice quieter as he closes his eyes and takes a deep, semi-soothing breath, “I’m not exactly… accustomed to things like this. On such a large scale, at least.” The amendment is added with a small shrug, as if it’s an unimportant afterthought. 

Eyes raising to meet the other male’s, hazel hues fill with a hint of relief at meeting someone in the same boat as he is— more or less —when it comes to the unfamiliarity of it all. At the very least, he hasn’t overheard this stranger murmuring inquires about what ‘role’ he’ll be playing… or what role they certainly wish he’d play. With a small smile, he adds in a more upbeat tone, hinted with a light chuckle, “You seem to be handling all this immensely better than I am… So... What’s your name? O-Or if you’d prefer, what should I call you?” { ☆ }