#calvinssins

[ducktales-wco-oo]

Waking up next to Angel is something Blake doesn't think he'll ever grow tired of. Their soft, tiny body curled against him, the steady breathing when they're still asleep and the big eyes blinking up at him when they're not, the way Angel's hands instinctively wrap around Blake's arms or face or even just the feathers on his chest... it's adorable, and it's warm and soft and just plain nice.

So when Blake wakes up, hung over, with an uneasy feeling in his stomach, he tries to brush it away. He's fine. He's got Angel.

And then he looks down at the little guy pressed against him, and he has to make a conscious effort not to gasp. Where the fuck did all those bruises come from? Usually even the brutal stuff didn't look that bad the next morning.

"Oh, shit, A, are you alright? Did... Did I do that to you?"

(ow sorry)

- ✩ { @calvinssins​​ } ✩ 

{ ☆ } Blake is safe.

It’s a strange thought for someone to have around the swan, but it’s one that Angel often does. Blake is safe. They’re warm and loving and genuinely care about him. When Angel falls asleep next to Blake, he knows they’ll still be there when he wakes up. Lying down beside them soothes Angel in a way that he hadn’t thought he could be anymore, their arms holding him close and lulling him into a non-fitful slumber. Honestly, Blake isn’t just safe... Blake is home.

But last night... Angel is lax to admit that he hadn’t felt entirely safe. Because he had known Blake wouldn’t hurt him— not TOO badly, anyway. Not purposely... and if things HAD threatened to become more than Angel could handle, then he’d have tried to- No. He would have stopped it. Thought about it a few times. But last night, Blake was... less safe. Less warm and loving and more... like how it was before. Only- worse. Scarier. Nothing Angel hadn’t experienced from others, albeit it’s been a while since he was with someone in that bad of a state. 

But it’s like riding a bike, you never really forget how to make the best out of a bad situation. 

It would have been more trouble than it was worth to dissuade the swan, and refusal wouldn’t have gotten Blake to CALM DOWN either. Much like whenever Angel used to have to decide whether he wanted to spend hours trying to get something through the thick skull of a guy with way too much time on his hands and only one thing on his mind, or spend them in an impromptu but not necessarily unpleasant session of getting his insides rearranged... the choice had been easy to make. Of course, that time was- ... different.

Hurt more than usual. A lot more. Again, not NEW. Just- ... different when it’s coming from Blake. Maybe at the start of their relationship it wouldn’t have phased Angel so much. But after everything they’ve been through, everything they’ve discovered between them... Angel had gotten used to something else, that’s all. Perhaps at another time of their life, Angel would shrug it off and chalk it up as a rougher fuck but still a good one. Wouldn’t mind it because it’d likely be a one and done type of deal... But things aren’t like that anymore.

Things are different. Angel is different... BLAKE is different. They’re not- ... They’re not supposed to treat him like that. Kinda rough, sure. Mark him up and throw him around like the little ‘toy’ he is and make it CLEAR just who he gave his ass to. But it’s playful and sexy and stems from feelings that Angel hadn’t known someone could actually feel for him. That was just- mean. Blake was really, really mean... and Angel honestly, didn’t like it.

When it was finally over and he could drag himself over to curl against Blake, Angel doesn’t think he’d ever been more relieved to just let exhaustion overtake him. He’s still tired when he feels Blake shift, feathers ruffling and stomach twisting in knots at the thought of being awake again- a dread that Angel hasn’t experienced in years. Body screaming in protest, eyes reluctantly open, Angel wincing as he shifts to look up Blake.

❝  Kinda?  ❞  Angel weakly responds, breath hitching as the pain of last night washes over them in a wave now that they are conscious again. Choking back a whimper, Angel forces himself to continue since Blake doesn’t seem to remember what happened,  ❝  To both questions.  Because I mean- Yes, you did do this... but you also didn’t because I’m guessing it was more what you DRANK than you actually deciding to.  ❞  

Grimacing as he brushes disheveled bangs out of his face, gaze flits down to his wrist, brows knitting at the sight of splotched purple showing up beneath his feathers. About the size of where a hand had roughly grabbed him.. he doesn’t doubt that the rest of his body looks just as bad. Pride and feelings barely intact, Angel refocuses on Blake’s chest instead, not trusting himself to look directly at the swan... and not wanting to look at the rest of himself.

Brows furrowed and tears brimming in his eyes, voice is quiet as he states in a tone that’s far too calm considering his sorry state,  ❝  .... I don’t like when you drink.  ❞

❝  You act mean.  ❞  { ☆ } 

[vigilanteafterhours]

He’s just busy being reminded how much he really adores Launchpad, and how unbelievably hot he finds that genuine sincerity and honesty.

[ducktales-wco-oo]

"Angel? Angel, baby, are you still awake?" Blake wouldn't blame him if he isn't. Angel's been hard at work all day, and Blake has maybe just taken out what definitely felt like more that three days' worth of sexual frustration on him. He has every excuse to be asleep. But, still...

"Angel. A. It's important."

- ✩ { @calvinssins } ✩

{ ☆ } Angel had just been surrendering into sleep’s embrace, warm and safe within Blake’s. With a body aching in the BEST ways possible and exhaustion lacing him to the very tips of his feathers, it’s no surprise that the small duck had been quick to fall quiet as soon as he was held close to Blake’s chest; the rhythmic breathing and beating of his boyfriend’s heart acting as a tried-and-true lullaby. Arms weighing him down in a protective hold, Angel’s face was buried into snowy feathers, a hand clutching at them even in his tired state, the tiny duck unwilling to let go until sleep forced them to.

However, the sound of Blake’s voice breaks through the blissful haze. Eyes groggily fluttering open, a small, confused whine slips out into chest feathers as Angel stirs. Tired as they may be— it hard to simply move their aching body enough to look up at Blake —they know better than to ignore someone when they have something important to say. That’s the whole point of the word, after all. That it’s something that shouldn’t be ignored. Besides, if Blake days it’s so... then it MUST be.

Especially since they’re using Angel’s name.

Angel can recall a few instances when Blake called them such, and all of them were... well, bad things were happening. Usually Angel was scared and they have a feeling Blake was scared too, and hearing their name was a constant that had still managed to shine through even in the panicked haze. But he’s not scared right now... The exact opposite. He hadn’t thought Blake had anything to be upset about either. But he must have been wrong. Something must be wrong now. Otherwise why would he hear his name coming from Blake that many times?

Whatever it is, there’s no denying the concern alight in golden hues as he looks up at Blake, a hand rubbing one for a moment in an attempt to relieve it of lingering sleep.  ❝  What’s— What’s wrong?  ❞  Angel asks through a stifled yawn, trying to give Blake their full attention. Although, it’d be easier to focus if they weren’t so comfortable. { ☆ }

[ducktales-wco-oo]

✩ { @calvinssins​ } ✩ - Continued from ★

{ ☆ } It’s just a little— okay, a lot of blood. It’s a lot of blood. And its red and dripping and THERE. But it’s still just blood. Hell, not even from anyone he knows; although that is of little comfort. It still belonged to someone and now it’s NOT with them anymore. It’s here. It’s here and it smells and it’s out of them and that means they were hurting and now they’re NOT but in a very, very bad way and— Blinking as they are torn out of their roundabout thoughts, Angel is only faintly aware that they are grimacing, feathers ruffling and eyes riveted to the sight before them. Yes, Blake has managed to get them squirming... just- perhaps not in the best way.

Unfortunately, it’s still difficult to tell just how DEEPLY this ‘squirming’ actually goes, Angel managing to keep a hold of himself. Toeing the line of mere ‘discomfort’, they hear their voice awkwardly mutter—  ❝  You can’t exactly walk into an Arby’s at all...  ❞  —in a weak attempt at levity, trying to remind himself where he is at the moment. On the couch. Talking to Blake. NOT bleeding. Not suffering... Not seeing his parents do the same. He’s here and Blake is talking to him and he’s listening and it’s FINE. He’s fine... It’s just- uncomfortable, is all.

Gross... Y’know. It just makes him feel... gross.

But Blake is making some good points. Ones that cause Angel’s gaze to flit to the side, the small duck swallowing thickly as if to physically push down the bubbling complaints. ❝  N-No... That’s the last thing I want...  ❞  

For Blake to be taken away. Especially because of something HE did.

Guilt flashes in sunshine hues, clouded by indecision and a fear that Angel never shows around Blake. Usually never FEELS. But it’s overwhelmed by surprise when his chin is suddenly grabbed, Angel not having even noticed his boyfriend’s approach. Body tenses as a beak smashes against his own, eyes wide and heart POUNDING at the contact... A kiss he wishes, desperately wants, to enjoy. But he just... He can’t.

There’s just.... so much of it... and it’s TOUCHING them. 

Scent of blood washes over them like a relentless wave, slipping inside and consuming them until they can’t distinguish between it and their’s or even Blake’s. It’s all they can smell, can taste, can feel- Blake’s hands BURNING during the brief moment they touch Angel. But it’s not real. That’s all just- It’s in their head. It’s just them being- weird. Feeling weird. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine— It’s really not, but it’s not nearly as huge a deal as the rushing in their veins is making it seem like. Tongue flits across their lips, trying to wash away an irony-taste they know isn’t really there, wanting to replace it with Blake’s. NEEDING TO.

Blake’s touch is gentle. It’s gentle and it’s wiping away something that Angel knows he enjoys. He... He really likes blood. But he’s getting rid of it for Angel, willing to clean it off immediately for Angel. Shouldn’t that be enough? Why isn’t it enough? PLEASE just let it be enough. They just want it to be enough...  ❝  I- I just- I know I am but- ... It’s... It’s a lot, Blakey. A lot.  ❞  But it’s not enough. Even though they are BLAKE’S boyfriend, Angel can’t shake off the unease. Can’t stop the way their gaze watches as it runs down the swan’s forearms into the sink, eyes wide and brows knitted at the sight. Swallowing the lump in their throat, feathers ruffle as they weakly confess,  ❝  And I just- I really, really don’t like blood...  ❞  

❝  It smells and it tastes horrible and it’s so slick and warm and it never stays where it’s supposed to.  ❞  As Angel speaks, he isn’t even aware of how hasty his words become, how his fluffy chest heaves from shallow breaths or the way hands harshly wipe at his face where Blake had just cleaned, as if there is STILL blood there. As if he’s not clean... doesn’t feel clean...  ❝  It should be inside but it’s not. It’s outside and it needs to be in, but it won’t stay in. Why won’t it stay in? It NEEDS to be—  ❞  Blinking, it abruptly occurs to Angel that their vision is blurry... When had they looked away from Blake? Now they’re just looking at their shaking hands, as if they were the ones dripping red rather than the swan’s... Hell, for a moment, he could have sworn they were.

There was always so much of it... When they were sick, after his parents passed... It never stopped. It never stops. Even NOW, he can’t seem to make it stop. 

❝  Blood... Blood is bad. It means bad things happened. People are hurt or they were hurt or- or they’ve stopped hurting but now they’re GONE and part of you wishes they were still hurting with you and that’s HORRIBLE.  ❞  Hands clutch around their stomach as shoulders hunch, Angel feeling sick. But he can’t throw up. Throwing up often brought blood... and he needs that. Sometimes it even meant losing food, and he arguably needed- needs? Needed... It’s important. Food is important and his dad worked hard to provide it and Angel can’t keep—

... Oh. Right. 

He’s here. He’s here with Blake. He’s here with Blake and he’s not sick. He’s not sick, and he’s not beaten by the other kids, and he’s not beaten by those who took him in, and he’s NOT beaten but in a ‘good’ way by those who wanted an enjoyable fuck... He’s not hurt. He’s not in danger. The blood isn’t his. It’s Blake’s- Well, it’s in the swan’s possession now. Which is better than it actually being Blake’s. And Blake LIKES it. It makes him happy. 

Blake deserves to be happy.

But now here Angel is... messing it up.

❝  I- I know you like it... and I want you to have what you like, and you’re being so nice about it. You’re always so NICE to me....  ❞  When had they started crying? They can’t recall when tears silently started dropping down their cheeks, the warmth finally feeling like it’s washing them clean. Hands hastily start wiping once more, as if that’ll actually make it to where it never happened. Words failing— and Angel not wanting to even think about it anymore, for fear of delving into another spiel they didn’t plan —he weakly ends with-  

❝  But it’s- ... it’s just...... it’s icky....  ❞  { ☆ }   

[ducktales-wco-oo]

Okay Angel let’s go 🍆

{ ☆ } This is surprisingly difficult… because every scenario he can think of has been done at one point or another, more or less. What can he say? They have an active sex life. Hell, that’s what initially got them in each other’s company… and allowed Angel the chance to weasel his way further into Blake’s heart, now that he thinks about it. But that’s not the topic at hand; what they want Blake to DO to them is. Popping their lips, gaze raises and a small contemplative hum slips out for far longer than necessary before—

❝ I dunno. ❞

Shrugging with a quizzical frown, Angel continues, ❝ I mean— I like it when we’re places we shouldn’t be. Y’know, when we could get in big trouble just for being there, especially if we’re having ‘fun’. It’s exciting and Blake always teases me because I have to keep quiet… ❞ However, tone doesn’t suggest that he’s laying out a specific scenario. More like he’s musing things over for his own benefit. ❝ But I also like when we’re home because then I can get as loud as I wanna. And I LIKE being loud. I like it when Blake is loud too… he makes the best noises. ❞ Cheeks flushing at the mere thought, a hand twirls a strand of his bangs, the small duck squirming slightly in place, ❝ He always says the best things to… Makes me feel cute and naughty all at the same time~ ❞

Which is just the way he likes it, and Blake seems to as well.

❝ Blakey is better at coming up with new stuff for us to do, honestly. They have all sorts of fun ideas… Sometimes I think we could spend a whole day just going through the different— ❞ Sunshine hues lighting up, Angel excitedly interrupts himself, ❝ Yeah! That’s something! I think I’d like to spend all day just letting Blakey take me in different ways. Obviously we could have breaks whenever one of us wants and then he could just hold me and cuddle before he’s hard again… ❞ How realistic an entire day of Fun Times is, Angel doesn’t know. But if anyone knows about that stuff, it’s probably Blake. Despite Angel’s expertise when it comes to having his brains fucked out, it’s actually pretty limited in terms of things that don’t have to do with simply the act of being someone’s pretty little sex toy.

He never really needed to know much else.

❝ I could wake him up by sucking his dick. He really enjoys that… He gets all relaxed and moany and starts playing with my hair. Not pulling it, just- playing with it. And he thrusts his hips but it’s in a lazy kinda way and I force myself further down to meet it and he gets so happy when I do this special thing with my tongue. ❞ Angel shamelessly continues, voice innocently soft despite the crude subject, ❝ He always says he loves me a lot too in the mornings. Not that he doesn’t other times of the day, just… it’s kinda different. Different than if we’re just cuddling or when he says it during rough sex and it’s all growly and a little drowned out by everything else. ❞

Looking up and off to the side, arms cross as Angel tries to explain, ❝ It’s… soft. Nice. I- y’know… I like it. ❞ Running a hand through their bangs, gaze lowers as they contemplate, ❝ I like the other sex too. A LOT. The usual stuff is probably my favorite kind… but it feels- … good to hear Blake say he loves me during sex but it sounds like it’s during not-sex? He’s… I dunno… I just like hearing it while feeling- THAT way. It’s… not how sex used to be at all. Being with Blake is different than anything has ever been. ❞ Popping their lips as they wonder why it’s suddenly so difficult to talk about this, gaze raises as they admit with a small smile, ❝ I’d like at least one of the times to be like that… ❞

❝ With Blake kissing me and touching me, but there’s nothing I have to do for it. He’s just doing it because he IS. And it’s soft and slow and we both are having fun even if it’s not the usual type of games. Because he’s telling me that he loves me and I’m his good boy and he’s… He’s looking at me. ❞ Cheeks flushed with warmth, sunshine hues sparkle at the thought, ❝ With BOTH his eyes. Because he wants to see me. All of me… and he likes what he sees. ❞ Both inside and out.

❝ I like seeing all of him too. ❞ { ☆ }

[ducktales-wco-oo]

Actually if Carroll is giving one to Jayden he wants one in return :) 🍆

{ ☆ } Jayden would be lying if he said that he hadn’t put some thought into this. A lot of it, actually… mainly when they’d had been broken up the second time. When one lays around in bed for hours on end staring unseeingly at the ceiling, the mind tends to wander. He can hardly be blamed for preferring those kinds of speculations to the… scarier ones. Now that things are back on track, college on the horizon and eighteen years of lifetime experience under his belt— most of which Jayden would say was a suck-fest, but the latter years definitely started picking up —it seems like as good a time as any to completely destroy whatever shred of dignity he may have earned in his ‘old age’, as Jayden has been jokingly referring to it.

❝ Okay, so— Carroll likes it when I wear his clothes, as he should because I look amazing in them. Anyway, I’m wearing his sweater and I look adorable as Hell and he’s hard as fuck over it. I dunno if sex in a sweater is a good thing because of overheating or whatever, but we could always crank the AC or I could just wear one of his shirts instead… but that doesn’t matter. We’re not talking technicalities, we’re talking aesthetic. ❞ And him getting railed while wearing Carroll’s sweater is a damn good one. He wants Carroll to look at him and make no mistake who’s Butterfly he is. To see him and be constantly reminded of how his sweaters are ALWAYS in danger of theft now… and how he wouldn’t have it any other way.

❝ And obviously there’s some foreplay because I deserve it. He’s slipping his hands under his big-ass sweater so he can touch me and he’s kissing me and running his fingers through my hair… ❞ Jayden mimics the motion with his own hand, smugly grinning as bright, thick strands fall back into their floofed texture. ❝ And he’s waxing poetic which is HOT AS FUCK… ❞ Dirty talk, who? Jayden only fantasizes about a stacked dork writing impulse poetry about how sexy he is. ❝ Makes me feel special, y’know? Anyways… Things are getting hot and heavy and etc… Tragic as it may be, I’ll skip the juicy details and just get to the main point. ❞

Hands clasped in front of himself, smug smirk grows as they quirk a brow, ❝ I ride him like he’s a fucking bucking bronco in a rodeo. ❞ Perhaps not as eloquent as Carroll could have made it sound, but Jayden is pretty proud of the metaphor. Snickering, they shamelessly continue— after all, it’s not like Carroll is around to hear. THAT would be embarrassing. ❝ Sure, we start out slow because I’m not gonna not tease him as I sliiiiiiide on down onto whatever he’s packing. Which would FIT, by the way. ❞ A curt and quick retort to what they know everyone is thinking, brows knitting and beak puckered in a pout for a moment before resuming, ❝ But yeah— He’s holding my hips and I’m doing my thing, and I’m good at it, and I can tell I am because his face is all red and his body is sweaty even though he’s just lying there watching me… and his eyes are all dazed like they get when he really, REALLY likes what he sees. Like when we rest our foreheads together and just- look at each other, only different because we’re- y’know… ❞

Cheeks flush at his tangent, that moment of unplanned sap managing to be what embarrasses him. Coughing into a closed fist, he shakes his head and continues, ❝ But yeah. Carroll likes it… A lot. And I do too because well, I wouldn’t mind him being ON me like, loom- hovering over. Because he’s Carroll. I know he’s not gonna hurt me or something… and I’m sure whenever we- yeah… He’ll be on top sometimes. But I just— when I imagine it… I’m just on top, okay? ❞ One can hardly blame him for feeling hesitant to be pinned down or completely surrender control. Not after how it felt the last time it happened. Shaking his head, Jayden tries to refocus on the more appropriate vibes.

Which are horny and smug as Hell about it.

❝ So, we start out slow and I’m doing great and Carroll is feeling great and so do I because it’s just- awesome… And then he starts moving his hips too, and before we know it he’s slamming me down onto him and slamming into me which just makes it even BETTER and- fuck. It’s just all kinds of amazing. Like how you always hear people talk about sex or see in videos but it’s for REAL. ❞ Confident that his lack of experience about the subject aside from a few scenarios and buzzwords isn’t showing, Jayden swallows thickly as he averts his gaze up and to the side, trying to will his body temperature to lower before it becomes a problem, ❝ He keeps telling me how much he loves me too. Like— a LOT. Saying how great I am and that he’s glad I’m here and it’s only me forever and….. Other stuff like that. Nice stuff. ❞

Twirling a strand of hair around a finger, Jayden shrugs and tries to will his cheeks to stop flooding with heat, ❝ I’m probably moaning and screaming his name and saying I love him too. The kinda shit that you’d expect… and then when it’s all done he holds me close to his chest and he’s not even a little upset about how messy that sweater probably got. He’s just hugging me and playing with my hair and kissing me until we eventually fall asleep… or just take a nap. Depends on what time it was when he was fucking me. ❞

With that blunt statement, the tale is complete. { ☆ }

[ducktales-wco-oo]

“Stop following me. I want nothing to do with you” from pre-relationship Blake?

- ✩ { @calvinssins } ✩

{ ☆ } Perhaps someone smarter would heed the others demand, but Angel has never claimed to be smart. Nor should they. Which is why they continue to patter along behind the swan, only allowing a moment of respite after the snapped statement before the sound of footsteps scurrying can be heard once more. Honestly, a sane person would have kept their distance long ago... Far before the pointed glares, the gruff and crude remarks, the way Angel is certain they saw a flash of something shiny and sharp disappearing when their curious gaze had locked on the stranger... who was eyeing someone else across the way like they were a fine cut of meat just waiting to be carved.

Angel has experience with predators like that. Hell, they work with a few. If that was the case, anyway. Of course, Angel doesn’t like to assume the worst of people... but he also doesn’t like to assume the best either. And that glint in a violet eye had screamed of violence to come.

In any case, this stranger seemed interesting... and even as time whittled away, they also continued to seem very, very alone. Angry and alone and awfully entertaining. Which are some of the worst things to be around the little duck, lest you suddenly find yourself with TWO shadows. How long this would last- Angel doesn’t quite know. But that’s of little importance. What matters is that it’s happening now, and he doesn’t plan on stopping simply because the target of his curiosities is being a stickler.

So, he halts for merely a moment... before continuing along his merry way behind the larger stranger. Hands clasped behind his back and head cocked with curiosity as blatant as the amusement in their smile and glittering in sunshine hues.  ❝  Weeeeell... I don’t mean to be rude, but uh- I seem to be the only one around to do anything with. The only one who’s taking the time to follow you anyway.  ❞  They cheekily chime through good-natured snickers, footsteps picking up the pace so they are just barely lagging a step behind.

❝  I don’t think I’ve seen you do anything so far but stomp around and scowl...  ❞  Casually talking as if they are close acquaintances rather than literal strangers, Angel asks with unveiled sincerity,  ❝  Are you having a bad day?  ❞  { ☆ }

[ducktales-wco-oo]

Blake genuinely can’t remember the last time he cried. It’s just not something he does. But he’s crying now, and, damnit, he’s crying in front of Angel, which isn’t how it’s supposed to work, and-

“I’m fine. I guess I just haven’t really told anyone about my childhood before? At least, not all the details. It- it doesn’t matter. It’s not worth crying over. Or anything. I’m not crying.”

As if Angel’s gonna believe that.

{ ☆ } Contrary to what Blake probably believes, Angel doesn’t really ‘cry’ that much… Not out loud. It’s just that things tend to happen around Blake that MAKE them cry, as bad as that may sound. Every time, even if most would agree they had the right to break, it had made Angel feel small. Weak and pathetic and lesser in Blake’s eyes. It’s nice having someone looking out for them, protecting them despite Angel not needing it. It’s nice to FEEL protected. To melt into an embrace and trust that it’ll keep all the bad at bay. But it’s something bittersweet. All sense of peace tainted by the feeling that Blake must pity him. See him as something tiny and helpless and capable of falling apart without him around.

Angel might not be overly prideful, but they do have a sense of pride… and yet— that reasoning doesn’t apply to Blake.

Because when Blake begins to cry, Angel doesn’t think they’re weak. It doesn’t even cross his mind. Blake’s not pathetic or lesser or helpless or anything that might be associated with crying. Blake is AMAZING. Blake is strong and capable and everything… and they deserve to cry. It’s OKAY for them to. Angel definitely wouldn’t say he is happy about it and he wants to make it stop as soon as possible, but still… seeing Blake cry does bring a tentative relief. A faint hope that maybe, if Blake can believe that it’s alright to cry in front of Angel… then Angel can do the same.

They can cry in front of each other, and it’ll be okay.

Angel doesn’t know if their concern looks more like pity, but they don’t view it as such. Carefully, hands cup Blake’s face so the swan can look at them, thumb lightly brushing tearstained feathers. Quietly, Angel begins placing gentle kisses on Blake’s face, trying to kiss away the tears. To kiss it all better, like Blake had done when he’d kissed the feeling of blood off Angel’s, during what feels like a lifetime ago. It’s a slow process, but Angel figures that’s a good thing. Blake needs time to calm down, to steady his breathing and realize what’s happening. To come to the conclusion that Angel is here, and Angel is staying here, and Angel doesn’t mind that he’s crying… That—

❝ It’s okay. ❞

Words are softly spoken when Angel has finished covering Blake’s face in affection, pulling away to meet his husband’s glossy gaze. Hand moves to brush Blake’s hair, Angel offering a small smile as they quietly say, ❝ It’s okay to not be okay… ❞ { ☆ }

[ducktales-wco-oo]

✩ NSFW SHIZ ✩

𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍  /  𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒.

is submissive | is dominant | prefers to top | prefers to bottom | likes to switch | identifies as heterosexual | identifies as homosexual | identifies as bisexual | identifies as pansexual | identifies as demisexual | identifies as asexual | enjoys sex with men | enjoys sex with women | enjoys sex with multiple people at once | initiates | waits for partner to initiate | spits | swallows | prefers sex in the morning | prefers sex at night | prefers sex anytime | no sex drive | low sex drive | average sex drive | high sex drive | fluctuating sex drive

𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘  /  𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄.

small build | medium build | athletic build | muscular build | curvy build | voluptuous build | wears boxers | wears lingerie | wears other | goes ‘commando’ | trims | shaves/waxes | doesn’t shave/wax | laser hair removal | cup size a-c | cup size d-f | 1-5" in length | 6-9″ in length | 10” or over in length

𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒.

is silent/makes little to no sounds | is very quiet | moderately vocal | is very loud | grows in volume over time | bites hand/partner/pillow to muffle themselves | calls out/says/whispers partner’s name | curses (only like- Once and he was just ‘omg never again because good boi’) | pillow talk | fakes/exaggerates | prefers a quiet partner | prefers a loud partner

𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍 𝐎𝐍𝐒  /  𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒.

having their hands pinned | pinning their partner’s hands | having their hair pulled | pulling their partner’s hair | being watched (by their partner) | being watched (by a third party) | watching their partner | receiving oral | giving oral | calling their partner ‘daddy’ (or other names deferring to their dominance) | being called ‘daddy’ | giving praise | receiving praise | biting/marking | being bitten/marked | spanking | being spanked | teasing | being teased | having toys used on them | using toys on their partner | giving anal | receiving anal | giving vaginal | receiving vaginal | choking | being choked | dirty talk | being tied up | tying their partner up | being worshipped | worshipping their partner | humiliating | being humiliated | degrading | being degraded | knife play | blood play  | being pegged | pegging their partner | Being hypnotised | Hypnotising their partner | cock warming - partner inside | cock warming - inside partner |

Tagged by: Stolen from @calvinssins​ because Reasons

Tagging: Whoever has Hornt muses

[vigilanteafterhours]

spots to kiss.

@calvinssins​ said: Spots to kiss 15!! But let’s make it multiple neck kisses :) one isn’t enough for LP 15. a kiss on the jawline.

He was trying to get dishes done. But it was a quiet evening, the apartment was empty save for him and Launchpad as their youngest housemate had hockey practice, and it had been an otherwise good day. Drake had initially thought about going on patrol a little early, but those thoughts were dashed when he felt the pilot wrap his arms around him from behind, leaning down to press a light kiss right around where his bill met his neck.

“LP-! I’m trying to do some chores here, sir.” He was grinning, regardless, tipping his head to the side to give him better access. “I know I’ve still got a few hours before I usually go on patrol but- ah!”

He was interrupted by another kiss, then a third, and a fourth. Light at first, then more insistent, trailing from his jawline down his neck to his shoulder and back up again, until Drake was wriggling slightly, grinning as he finally surrendered to the attention, fingers lightly playing with the feathers on the pilot’s strong arms.

“You know, LP. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that something tells me you’ve got something other than dirty dishes on your mind~...”

[ducktales-wco-oo]

calvinssins​:

Blake knows that mark. BC, with the slash under it for emphasis. That’s how he would mark his kills, back when he thought it was cool to leave a little clue for whoever found the bodies. Not that anyone ever did.

Putting his initials on someone meant this one’s mine, whether they like it or not. It meant I get to hurt you, and I get to take control of your body, and I get to make you permanently mine, and if you bleed out it’s because I chose to let you. It meant ownership, and violence, and everything he used to want his name to stand for.

Everything he didn’t want Angel to think of him as.

Sure, he likes it rough sometimes, but carving his initials into their shoulder? Ignoring all the presumably obvious signs that they wanted him to stop and not stopping? He can read them better than that. He can do better than that.

And if that’s what he did to them when he was drunk… is that who he really is? Is he made of that need to cause pain, to take toxic amounts of control, to own every body he touches? Is he made of bad things?

Keep Reading

{ ☆ } Angel doesn’t like scars... Yeah, he doesn’t like things ruining his cute little body. Likes to look pristine and adorable and fluffy and as good on the outside as he tries to feel on the inside... but it’s MORE than that. It’s just easier to focus on the vanity aspects of it. To brush it off as something he just doesn’t like and leave it at that. But Blake knows better. He at least knows about Angel’s ‘problem’ with blood. And yet that’s still not even all of it.

... Angel doesn’t like remembering when things hurt. Doesn’t like acknowledging that they did or still DO. He’d prefer for pain to stay in the past. For bad things to fade away so he can better enjoy the good. So he can only FEEL the good... It’s the only thing worth feeling, honestly.

He doesn’t feel very good right now.

Angel flinches at the sound of his name, uncertain how to take it whenever it comes out of Blake’s mouth. Before it had only been spoken when horrible things were happening. When Angel was overwhelmed with fear and pain and needed something to latch onto. Then Blake had said it when admitting that they loved him. It took on a different meaning then. Became something comforting in an entirely new manner. Safe and warm and nice... Now he’s back to feeling that initial PANIC. Because he’s scared. He’s more scared than he can recall being in years. Or perhaps ever... and Blake is saying it.

And Blake’s voice is hushed... It’s broken and frightened too and practically screams of what happened prior. With every word out of Blake’s mouth, Angel’s shaking only grows worse, chest painfully hitching with his breath as he chokes back sobs. Because it hurts to cry... It hurts to just breathe... Everything HURTS right now, and he’s not certain how much of it is mostly from the memories. Not that it makes any difference. Either way he can feel it clear as ever.

Sharp and burning and by Blake’s hand.

But despite everything, Angel doesn’t want to leave. If anything, he finds himself missing the comforting hold of Blake’s arms around him— even if his stomach unwittingly twists at the thought, still recalling the feeling of Blake’s body pinning his down. Holding him steady as he unwillingly spasmed when pain became too much to handle. Of course, it only made things worse. Seemed to spur Blake onward... but it hadn’t really been HIM. He hadn’t been thinking clearly. Right? ... Right. That wasn’t his Blakey.

This is... the man who sounds close to tears, spewing out pleas and promises that Angel hasn’t heard spoken to him before. Because people don’t promise things to him. Not things that matter. They don’t want to. Don’t really care to. People don’t care if he leaves. Don’t care if he hurts or gives a damn about them... but Blake does. Even if he used to have trouble showing it or if... certain things make him forget for a bit.

But that’s okay... He just needs to stay AWAY from those things. Which Angel believes Blake will, especially after all of this... They trust him to.

❝  Okay.....  ❞  Angel murmurs after Blake has gone silent, barely able to be heard above the harsh pounding of both their hearts. Shuffling with a grimace, Angel buries himself deeper against Blake’s chest. Shoulders shaking and breath catching, the small duck tries to speak through his tears,  ❝  What you did- It wasn’t o-okay... It was really, really not okay... and I know you didn’t mean it- but... but I was SCARED.... I was scared and it hurt and you LIKED it.  ❞  Eyes squeezed shut as tears dampen his cheeks, a hitch of his chest disrupts his body, making Angel whimper in pain,  ❝  You can’t ever do that again. Never again.  ❞  

Lightly shaking his head, words grow a bit louder as they rush out,  ❝  Because I can’t stop you anymore, Blake... Not when you’re like THAT. Before I could when I didn’t care as much- but I love you now... I love you and I don’t wanna leave you and I can’t risk it... I can’t risk making you mad when you’re mean. So- So you can’t be... You- ... You can’t...  ❞  Hiccuping, Angel doesn’t know exactly when his stifled sobs broke free. But now he can barely understand his own words... Not that it likely matters. Everything seems clear enough already.

Doesn’t stop Angel from saying it though... just in case. Albeit, in his own way.

❝  No- No more scars....  ❞  { ☆ }