1 - 20 of 63 Works by DFP
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Illuga was familiar with the Lightkeepers’ rules and regulations, and while fraternization was not strictly outlawed it was frowned upon. No one would bat an eye at a roll in the hay on the eve of battle or in the brittle silence after a funeral banquet. But to do so again, and again, and again…
Well. It simply wasn’t done.
So Illuga was going to stop doing it.
Any day now.
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The Eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers stood with a knife in hand and a small, self-satisfied smile on his face. It was a familiar sight, but one made strange by the circumstances; he stood in a bright, clean kitchen, and he was wearing an apron.
How to keep the wolf from the door, or five times Childe fed him and one time Scaramouche returned the favour.
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“You’re trembling,” Robin says, sitting up a hair to touch her lips to his chin. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of little old me?”
“I—I ain’t,” Boothill protests, as she leaves a trail of kisses down his jaw, over the metal plating of his throat. “I just—don’t want to hurt ya none.”
Robin lays back. If Boothill were a godly man he’d be thanking someone right ’bout now. She says, “Then don’t.”
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“Is it always like this with you?” Aventurine asked. “Starting riots, setting fires, escaping by the skin of your teeth?”
Still sorta annoyed, Boothill grumbled, “You’re makin’ it sound like a bad thing.”
Aventurine laughed so suddenly he seemed to almost surprise himself. “A bad thing? Hah! Not at all.” He ran a hand, shining with gold, through his hair. “Not at all.”
After a hostile takeover gets a little…hostile, Aventurine needs to lay low for a few weeks. Luckily, Boothill’s willing to lend a helping hand.
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“But…” Argenti paused. There was something kinda funny about his expression. “My friend, why are you naked?”
“Huh?” Boothill stared harder at Argenti, who wasn’t meeting his eyes. “It don’t exactly count, do it?” He gestured at the smooth metal surface of his body, mostly submerged in the water. It ain’t like he had the usual parts folks were shy about.
A look passed over Argenti’s face that he didn’t quite get. It was almost…offended? Then he said, “How can you say that?” and Boothill heard the offence loud and clear in his voice.
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There was a strange silhouette outside, wide at the top then narrow, like an arrow pointing to the sky. The silhouette was floating, that’s what made it difficult to decipher.
A cool, clean feeling swept through Childe, and he suddenly didn’t feel the agony of his body at all.
“It’s you.” His voice cracked, came out barely above a whisper.
The silhouette was a man, hovering a few feet above the ground, hands raised at his sides to steady himself. His face was as pale and bloodless as the moon. In a soft, musical voice he said, “For fuck’s sake—where are your clothes?”
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“It’s not pinching, is it?” Feixiao said. He felt her fingers hook between the straps and the bare skin of his thigh. “Moze, look here. See how there’s a little give?”
Moze rallied himself and looked down. Feixiao stared up at him, past the silicone cock jutting out from the harness. She tugged at the strap and said, “See?”
It was all Moze could do in that moment to maintain eye contact. Speech was well beyond him. He managed to nod.
Feixiao prepares a get-well-soon present for Jiaoqiu.
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Aki looked at him, then really looked at him, for the first time that evening. “Hang on,” he said, in a tone that made distant alarm bells sound in Shinjiro’s head. “Is this…doing something for you?”
[Prompt fills for NSFW Akishinji Week]
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So, maybe it was Shinjiro’s fault. He was the one who’d mentioned he didn’t have any pictures of Aki, but Aki was the one who had to make it into a stupid game of oneupmanship, as usual.
Picture for a picture, Aki texted him. Send me one like the one I sent.
Series
- Part 4 of kiss the cook
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turns out none of the great poets have written about this feeling by DFP
Fandoms: 崩坏：星穹铁道 | Honkai: Star Rail (Video Game)
23 Feb 2025
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“You accepted my proposal. We made a verbal contract.” Mydei unfolded his arms as his chest began to heave. “You drank my liquor and said you would have me!”
There was a distinct ringing in Phainon’s ears that seemed to be the sound of his brain rattling loose in his skull. What in Kephale’s name was that last bit? They had drunk together only the once, more than a year ago.
And actually, for that matter, what the hell was that first bit?
Phainon is somehow the last to learn that he's engaged to Mydei.
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“To be clear,” Mydei says, frowning, “you want me to put my armour back on, because…?”
Phainon shoots him a look. “You said you would humour me.”
“Just trying to understand the appeal,” Mydei grumbles. Standing naked over the bed, he’s beginning to feel a draft, but he supposes he won’t feel it much longer.
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“If you were truly a man,” Mydei declared, at top volume and apropos of nothing, “you’d fuck me in the ass.”
“Wuh—? Huh?” Phainon fumbled his wooden training sword and nearly dropped it.
This was not how any sane person started a conversation. They were in the public training hall, for gods sake, where Kephale and all their children could witness Phainon having an aneurysm.
Mydei issues a challenge Phainon can’t refuse.
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Ryuki’s heart rabbited in his chest as his stomach curdled. He’d been here before, a thousand times. The dark cathedral, fear alive in his body, so thick and cloying he choked on it. Date looking at him calmly through the mask.
“Drop the gun,” the man repeated, annoyed this time. “And kick it to me.”
Ryuki sent Date one last, hopeless glance, then clicked the safety on, dropped the gun, and kicked it.
It skidded forward a measly two feet.
Into the baffled silence, Ryuki said, “Um. Should I kick it again, or—?”
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It didn’t help that Shinji was so—himself, all the damn time. He cooked Akihiko’s favourite foods, and snarled at him for not properly rinsing protein powder out of his glasses, and when they were on the couch watching TV, he’d lay his hand across the nape of Akihiko’s neck, trace soothing circles against his skin with his thumb.
Akihiko could get hard just thinking about Shinji and now that he was around him all the time—after months apart—he was supposed to do what, exactly? Remain somehow chaste and sane at the same time?
Akihiko tries (and fails) to have sex with his boyfriend.
Series
- Part 5 of kiss the cook
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four funerals & a wedding by DFP
Fandoms: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
04 Oct 2024
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“You know what I was thinking?” Shuuichi says, stepping forward.
Seiji doesn’t even look up. “Something inane, I’m sure.”
Shuuichi had been thinking about how Kenichi was about their age, married and healthy and by all accounts happy. He’d been thinking about the smoking crater Seiji would leave behind if Shuuichi ever lost him. What he says is, “I was thinking about sucking you off.”
“At a wake?” Seiji punctuates his words with a performative flip of the page. “How scandalous.”
Series
- Part 5 of call it what you want
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Jiaoqiu smiled and said, “Moze has allowed me to take command of him.” His tone was indecipherable to Moze, but it made Feixiao’s brows go up. “Only for the short term, I assure you.”
Feixiao’s gaze drifted back to Moze. She looked at him warmly. “What’s on the table?”
Moze was looking at Feixiao, but speaking to Jiaoqiu when he said, “Whatever you wish.”
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Memories were supposed to be static, but they kept shifting beneath him like so much loose sand. Even how he remembered himself was changing. Spending time with all the kids gave him perspective, helped him see what should’ve been obvious, what was still hard to accept: that he’d only been a kid too.
Shinjiro gets a job at one of the Gekkoukan dorms.
Series
- Part 3 of kiss the cook
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Argenti said, softly, “You need not understand it. Just know that I value our time together.”
“Alright,” Boothill said, but he was thinking that whatever this thing was between them, he wasn’t sure they’d both come out intact.
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Argenti twisted his hand and drew his fingers gently along the inside wall. Raised bumps and grooves of circuitry prickled the pads of his fingers and Boothill made a strangled noise, twitching so violently his feet jerked into the air.
Argenti paused. His hand was too deep inside to remove in a hurry, but he endeavoured not to touch anything. “Good or bad?”
“Muddle-fudger,” Boothill snapped. “Quit askin’ when you darn well know the answer’s forkin’ great. Do it again!”
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“You gonna take care of that?” Boothill found himself asking, before he’d thought about whether it was wise or not. “I mean—it’s distractin’.”
Argenti didn’t say anything for what was in reality three seconds, but felt to Boothill like at least three minutes. “My sincere apologies.”
“No—I just meant—” Boothill cut off into a frustrated noise and then shoved his thigh firmly against Argenti, who sucked in a startled gasp of air. “You can. If you need to. Or want.”