milky-fixx - Tumblr blog

[milky-fixx]

me + @honeycomb-fics talking about shishikura supremacy

[milky-fixx]

come one, come all! whether you love summer, tolerate it, melt every time you step outside, or sing the praises of swimsuit season, one thing is for sure—

this summer, you (and your favorite anime character) are getting wet. (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)

to celebrate my bday month and the season, i’m doing a summer prompt event! feel free to send in requests for any character from any of my fandoms + one prompt! in return, i’ll write you a lil’ something! it could be a drabble or a full-length fic. at the very minimum, you are getting 100 words. at the very maximum, you’re getting my unlimited word vomit. both sfw + nsfw requests are fine (pls specify which you’d prefer; or don’t, and i’ll decide <3) 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ summer prompts ✧･ﾟ: *✧

beach - toshiro hitsugaya (bleach) ✧

cake by the ocean - joseph joestar (jojo’s bizarre adventure)

watermelon sugar 

lemonade

carnival - noriaki kayoin (jojo’s bizarre adventure)

heat wave - akira fudo (devilman crybaby)

popsicle - itachi uchiha (naruto)

hammock - shinji hirako (bleach)

sticky - izuru kira (bleach) ✧

sun-kissed -  henry (fire emblem:awakening)

resort - neito monoma (boku no hero academia)

cabin

waves - tartaglia (genshin impact) 

warm nights - kyojuro rengoku (demon slayer)

sweltering 

desert

lazy mornings - yuuta okkotsu (jujutsu kaisen) 

prickly - tomioka giyuu (demon slayer)

drenched - scaramouche (genshin impact) ✧

fireworks - akaza (demon slayer)

cicadas

s’mores - gin ichimaru (bleach) 

sunset

fireflies 

campfire - inasa yoarashi (boku no hero academia) 

skinny-dipping - megumi fushiguro (jujustu kaisen)

cotton candy - pannacotta fugo (jojo’s bizarre adventure)

bites

breeze

sunscreen - yusuke urameshi (yu yu hakusho)

[milky-fixx]

bb can I have “resort” for monoma

sure!!! I’ll add it to the list <3

[milky-fixx]

trying to write these summer ficlets in order but for some reason as soon as i try writing for part 2 joseph joestar from his POV, the yapping won’t stop 😭

it’s like his annoying ass possesses my keyboard

i’m 1K words deep into drafting it & it’s not even close to the end 😮‍💨 might be more than 2K words after yikes. it’s gonna be a full ass fic ☠️

[milky-fixx]

toshiro hitsugaya + "beach"

900 words. fluff. adult!toshiro just being a Mom at the beach, but also a simp. idk he’s just sassy.

Toshiro hates the heat, but he likes you. That's how the two of you end up at a beach getaway in the World of the Living. While he had his protests—

(“I have paperwork to catch up on.”

“Let your Lieutenant do it for you!”

“Rangiku? Actually doing her work? Hilarious.”

“You need a break!”)

—you were dead-set on your vacation and had your sales pitch ready.

(“We can eat watermelon shaved ice and build sandcastles, or use your zanpakto to make ice sculptures, or whatever you want! We can walk along the beach when it’s cooler in the evenings."

Not entirely convinced, he opened his mouth to retort when you pulled out your ace card. Your last resort.

“Plus… I may know a way to get Matsumoto to finish her tasks for a few days.”

“…Fine.”)

He was sold.

Truthfully, he did need a vacation. His sense of duty just made him a hardass about accepting one.

Plus... it meant he got to spend more time with you.

Pressing the back of his hand to his brow—it's sticky, with sweat, he notices sourly—he follows just a few paces behind you as you flit about the beach. Despite himself, he feels a smile tug at the corner of his lips at your childlike wonder.

"Look, 'Shiro! It's a crab."

"We should catch one and cook it for dinner."

“Ahh, look how many pretty shells washed ashore.”

They were pretty, but he could think of someone with more beauty.

"Hm. They're nice."

"Do you want to build a sandcastle?”

"You'll get burnt," he says as he eyes your exposed skin.

Of course he slathered on as much sunscreen as he could before stepping onto the beach. Yet you denied his offer to rub some onto you with a wave of your palm, a simple boast of how you simply tan in the sun.

How opposite the two of you are, yet how well you mesh together.

He's been told he’s cold, like the winter personified, like the reiatsu that constantly shrouds him. You're warm, almost burning in intensity, like the summer heat that threatens to melt through him. You're in your element here.

Nonetheless he’s watching you intently to make sure your skin doesn't burn.

Maybe he also just likes looking at you, so carefree. He could just reach out and press his lips against your sun-kissed complexion—

He shakes his head to rid himself of the urge. The heat seems to be seeping into his thoughts. He crouches down, picking up the bucket that you discarded. He takes a moment to note your height difference. Gone are the days when he was considered too young, where you towered over him. Now he can revel in the fact that you have to tip toe just to reach his chin.

"You're doing it wrong," he says as he observes your sand creation. “That kind of castle would never survive the tide."

He helps you, rolling his eyes good-naturedly as you fleck some sand at him in response to his critique. When you look away, he does the same, a sludge of sand slapping your knee. You gasp and he raises a brow.

He used to hate doing things that made him seem too childish, all too aware of how people saw him—as the young, inexperienced prodigy.

Yet with you... he finds your laughter infectious. Whether it's you giggling at the way a crab burrows its way into your castle, or even at how he gripes about the heat.

He finds he doesn’t mind indulging in these juvenile activities. When it’s with you.

You venture towards the shore in search of seashells as Toshiro pats more wet sand onto the base of your castle. It's only when you call his name triumphantly that he looks up.

His eyes widen.

Not because you're proudly holding up a conch, but because the tide is hurtling towards the shore behind you, threatening to engulf you.

You don't seem to notice.

"Watch out!” He’s moving before he can even speak, managing to grab you before water crashes onto the shore.

In a flurry of waves and movement, the both of you fall onto the sand, his arms cradling you to him. Water threatens to invade his nostrils but he exhales roughly. He nearly swallows a mouthful of it before the tide recedes.

And then he’s propped over you, on his hands and knees, water dripping from his hair onto you, the both of you sopping wet. You cough up some seawater, but you're fine. Toshiro's brows furrow.

"What were you thinking?" he says tersely.

You could've died. You worry him sick. He takes his eyes off of you for a few seconds and you nearly die.

"Were you even looking? You could've drowned—”

He's not sure who leaned in first, but the kiss interrupts him. Despite himself, he can't refuse, clutching you closer to him, pressing his lips against yours insistently.

You taste like salt and the sun and he wants you so badly.

But he also wants to keep you safe.

The two of you break apart with flushed cheeks and short breaths, and Toshiro huffs, pressing his forehead against yours.

"You're ridiculous, you know that."

"Yeah, but I'm your type of ridiculous."

Your giggle breaks off into a gasp as another tide washes over your bodies, this time gentler.

"That's it." He grumbles, jerking back his slicked hair as you cough up more water. He gets to his feet, reaching out a hand for you. "We're drying off."

[milky-fixx]

Suits

They looked way too good in suits.

feat. adult!reborn, adult!skull, tyl!tsuna, tyl!xanxus, tyl!yamamoto

implied not sfw. afab reader. this is a repost of my old work

Reborn

He always looked sinfully carnal, but tonight he was especially so. He knew you were watching him, if the amused glint he directed your way was anything to go by. That’s why he wasn’t surprised when you led him outside the gala and into a private restroom.

Before you could blink, he spun you around, hands gripped your waist as he pinned you against the wall with his hips. He nuzzled into your neck, chuckling.

“What’s gotten you all riled up, amore mio?”

When you responded by smashing your lips against his, clutching his face desperately, his lips tugged up into a smirk. You gasped when you felt him bite into your lower lip, and when you pulled away, his eyes were dark. 

“I think I have an idea,” he purred. “Why don’t I take care of you?”

Skull

You were…surprised by how well Skull cleaned up, considering his default outfit consisted of his motorcycle suit. Even so, it took you awhile of gawking at him in the entrance to your shared bedroom before he became flustered.

“W-What?” He rubbed his arm. “Do I look bad? I knew I should’ve taken out my lip piercing, dammit, your parents wouldn’t like that…” he mumbled, turning to walk away.

He was interrputed by your arms wrapping around his middle, holding him in place. He called out your name, flustered, before you answered. 

“You look amazing.” He shivered at the lust weighing down your words, how riled up you suddenly sounded. “So sexy, in fact, I might have to cancel plans with them….” 

Tsuna

Even though he was the boss of a mafia family, he still struggled with things like putting on his tie. You smiled as you offered your help and he sheepishly agreed.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he admitted, as you looped his tie around into a knot.

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Well,” you said, stepping back to survey your work, and discreetly, the rest of him. Tsuna was always a cutie, but he had matured into such a… fine specimen. Especially in that suit. “I think you look… capable without me. Very capable. Boss.” You winked.

His eyes darkened, his hand shooting out to grasp your wrist before spinning you towards him. You landed in his arms with a squeak, his breath warm against your face, his gaze molten. 

“Boss, huh. I wonder what other names you’ll be calling me tonight.”

Xanxus

If he wasn’t so sexy in that suit, you would say he was an arrogant asshole. As it was, he was still both.

Some lackey from a small family had been chatting you up a little too friendly at the gala, and once Xanxus took notice, you can damn well be sure he told that trash to get a fucking life. But not before groping your ass in front of him, before declaring you were his woman.

And now you were in the bathroom, your legs wrapped around his frame, while he held you propped against the wall. His hand groped your breast roughy.

“Stupid. Why the hell are you entertaining loser trash?” He grunted. The sleeves of his jacket were shoved down, revealing his white button up.

You knew you shouldn’t incite him even further, but at the same… the sex was so much hotter when he was. 

“Maybe I just wanted to see you when riled up.”

No one came into the bathroom that night, deterred by the sounds the two of you made.

Yamamoto

Takeshi was trying on the suit the Vongola tailor had made for him, and he asked for your opinion. You were surprised when you walked into the dressing room, and he wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

“Takeshi?” You called out, before nearly screaming when you felt a hand wrap around your eyes. 

“Shh, it’s me.” You would recognize that playful voice anywhere.

“God, you scared me,” you said, swatting his hand away, before turning to face him…. Oh. Before ogling the way his slacks clung to his thighs, the way his shoulders looked so broad in that suit.

Yamamato, ever-observant, noticed your stare. You missed the wicked grin that stretched his face.

“Like what you see?” His voice was husky, and sent shivers down your spine.

You were already locking the door. “Very much so.”

[milky-fixx]

re-entering my khr era and the fandom is barren 😮‍💨

but also - the struggle of my fav charas being the arcobaleno lmao ☠️

[milky-fixx]

pov: you get akira fudo this for your anniversary and it’s 50% gag gift 50% too accurate

[milky-fixx]

hello lovelies 👋

gemini szn is once again upon us which means it’s time for me to emerge from my cocoon

real talk though i do miss writing as a hobby 🤧

my goal this week is to post one thing a day to get back into the groove

i do have a few summer ficlets i started last year and never finished 🤫

[milky-fixx]

akira fudo [devilman crybaby]

fluffy headcanons

—Akira is the biggest simp. He has several romantic notions about what a relationship should be like, and he’s excited to finally have someone to shower with love. Between his teenage years, when people would rarely glance his way romantically, and the years he spent adjusting to life as a devilman, when he was more focused on stopping the impeding apocalypse and holding onto his unrequited crush on Miki, he hasn't had much time to indulge in these sentiments. If you two are in a serious relationship, he is such a gentleman. He kneels down to tie your shoes for you, carries you on his back when you're too tired or drunk to do so yourself, and dotes on you when you're sick.

—That's not to say Akira is boring and predictable though. Akira brings a (shall we say) devilish character into any relationship. He's hyperactive (partly due to his demon side), and always suggesting you two go on motorcycle rides, or skinny dipping, or hiking, or camping. One of his favorites is: transforming into his devilman form and carrying you around in the skies. He's certainly not a man for the faint of heart.

—If you're more of a homebody, Akira can (begrudgingly) stay at home, but he will be competing with your phone or the TV for your attention. He's also not someone you can trust to sit still while you're taking selfies. The amount of times he's photobombed your photos is criminal (and for a handsome guy, Akira is 10/10 at making the most stupid faces).

—The biggest cuddle bug. This man acts like he'll die if he goes a day without touching you. He cuddles up to you anywhere, in any position. In public, he tones it down a bit, but he's still touchy—he has his arm flung over your shoulder loosely or his hand on your thigh under the table. In private, he enjoys being the big spoon, being able to slip behind you and hold you and remind himself that you're very much present in his arms. He's an absolute menace as an overnight cuddler though. He flings his arms over you and latches onto you, and you have to pry yourself out of his grasp if you need to move (it turns out devilmen also have unnatural strength in their sleep.) Not to mention he snores like crazy.

—Of course Akira notices that you borrow his hoodies, but rather than fuss about it, he lets you have them. He likes the way his clothes look on you. It also feeds into his possessive nature as a devilman. That is, until all his hoodies have mysteriously disappeared, and by then he has to confront you—not because he's mad, but because he finds it adorable.

"Is that mine?" he asks, knowing full well the answer as he curls an arm around you. The two of you are watching some mindless movie on the couch. "Maybe." "It's black." He points out. "I have black clothes, too." He raises a brow, grinning. "Doesn't look like your size." "I sized up. It's comfier." "I think..." He narrows his gaze. "I can still see the tag on it. Only Ryo spends that much on clothes. You sure that's not the sweater he gave me?" You bat your eyelashes at him innocently. Akira laughs, a full-bodied sound, as he hugs you to him. "It's not like I care. It looks good on you. You can keep it."

—You ask to use his phone one day and are surprised to see his lock screen—the most unflattering candid of you that you can fathom. You may or may not even be asleep in the photo, clearly drooling a bit. You pester him to change it, but he shrugs it off. It's not even a good quality picture, because when has Akira ever had the patience to take a good photo. But to your surprise he pockets his phone with a grin, shrugs casually and says. "But it's you. So it's perfect." (Still the sheer thought of how many people have seen his lock screen with you on it? Horrifying.)

—A very protective boyfriend, but it's honestly because he's aware of the dangers out there, whether that's other demons or humans with ill intentions. He doesn't demand to know where you are, but he will ask who you're going with, just to make sure you'll be safe. And honestly if he wanted to figure out where you are, Ryo tracks your phone so it would be a simple favor. He checks in on you throughout the night. Akira seems to have a sixth sense for knowing just when you need him the most, whether that's him showing up to stave off the advances of some weirdo or showing up as your designated driver. When it comes to demon hunting though, he can be obstinate. You're the last person he wants to put in danger, therefore you're sitting your ass at home.

—Speaking of.... as much as he’s drawn to the thrill of danger, you on the other hand will not be in any danger. He definitely doesn't let you walk home at night. He's offers to drive you everywhere, even though it involves his motorcycle. With you, it's not an option—he shoves the motorcycle helmet onto you despite your protests. What about Ryo? you ask. Ryo doesn't matter, a concussion wouldn't stop him from being the world's biggest smartass. You on other hand? He's all too aware of how much more fragile you are, how easily you bleed or bruise. And he'll be damned if he loses you.

—It takes awhile for your friends to come around to Akira due to his intimidating appearance. Not to mention the rumors that surround him due to his unique acquaintances ("That guy in all white he hangs out with... Is he part of the yakuza? Why does he carry guns around?" is one you often hear.) But Akira is a very much a Rottweiler boyfriend--scary on the outside, and an absolute sweetheart on the inside. After seeing him dote on you and show up to drive you home after work and after crazy nights out, they warm up to him. It helps that once you get to know Akira, he's really a dork.

—He namedrops you so many times in casual conversation that all his friends and family know about you before you’ve even met them. Before you’re even together honestly. When Akira has a crush, it's painfully obvious to everyone around him. You'll even catch Miki's parents asking if you're the person Akira keeps talking about, to which he replies with an embarrassed, "I-It's not like that at all!"

—The trauma of losing his parents has made him a bit paranoid about how quickly things can go south. When he's going somewhere he always makes sure to give you a goodbye hug and tell you how much he loves you. You never know.

—He wants to be the first to hear about your achievements and your successes. Honestly, he wished he had someone growing up to talk to about those things—the Makimuras were the closest he had, and of course he's thankful for their support and care, but it's not quite the same. He's your #1 fan.

—He literally hates having fights. The type of guy who starts tearing up if y'all have a real dispute. When things get too heated, Akira disengages, goes into a different room to calm down. The last thing he wants to do is fling hurtful words at you when he doesn't mean it. It also helps to calm down his tears.

—He would love to start a family with you. While he wouldn't want to pressure you to have one, he's ready. He's been ready. He's always wanted a family of his own. While the Makimuras practically raised him, the absence of his parents in his life really made him crave a stable family. Even just adopting a dog that the two of you can raise would bring Akira joy.

—He's a sentimental guy. He holds onto materialistic things that you give him--a sweater that's already started showing holes, a bracelet that's missing half its beads. Part of it stems from the fact that he struggles to let go. Even the shoes his mom would gift him every year, Akira tried holding onto them as long as he could.

—Akira attaches places to people. He doesn't remember things by their actual names, but refers to them as "our song," or "our restaurant," or “the first place we met” etc. It's quite endearing; it shows how often you are on his mind.

[milky-fixx]

hiya, can you do akira fudo sfw / fluff hcs? (giving you my prettiest please)

sure thing! i'll post them in a sec. <3

they're the first thing i've written in a few months so forgive me if i'm rusty lol

[milky-fixx]

ahhh i had planned to release some fics for vday, but life got the best of me.

it's still february though which means it's still technically on theme.

i haven't written anything new in a hot second but i do have lots of wips so i wanna know which you guys want to see first.

[milky-fixx]

FINALLY

it’s good to be at the cursed number 😈

[milky-fixx]

ending my hiatus to say that Nanami Kento deserves to be ridden into next week, into the sunset.

[milky-fixx]

Everything you write is absolute magic, its so good! 😭

And as someone who is insanely weak for Izuru I just wanted to thank you for the food! The way you write him is amazing! 🥰🤗

hey babe, thanks so much!!!! this was such a lovely compliment to see 💖💖💖💖

i’m so glad you like izuru too 🤧 we’re alone on izuru island but we’re content!!! serenading our depressed little emo boy with lots of poems & other kinds of art ahem 🌝

thanks again!!!

[milky-fixx]

A copy of this month's Seireitei Bulletin is placed atop your desk.

You peruse it, noting some of the usuals. News, awards, special events. But it's a poem in the corner that catches your eye, one that is listed as an anonymous submission.

the summer's rays pierce a lone marigold withers waiting for one's touch

You smile. Folding up the paper, you greet the fellow members of your division, taking note of Captain Otoribashi with guitar in hand, strumming tunes while humming to a melody.

You approach your lieutenant, who sits before a daunting pile of paperwork—no doubt one that his Captain neglected to finish in his haste to make use of this moment of inspiration. He looks deep in thought, his brow furrowed as he peruses the words on the page.

"Lieutenant Kira." He near jumps at your use of his title, whirling around towards you. You notice he shoves a few papers to the side, as if hiding them from prying eyes. "Nice poem, by the way. In the paper."

"Oh, ah... That—that wasn’t me.”

You raise a brow.

"Really? It kind of reminds me of your style. A bit bold, if you ask me, but…”

His cheeks redden. “Right. Bold. I’m not—I’m usually not that forthright.” He shrugs noncommittally, angling his body to further cut off your view of his desk. It’s then that you catch a glimpse of a few crumpled pieces of papers scattered about.

He clears his throat. “Nonetheless I’m sure whoever it was is a fine poet.”

You hum thoughtfully. “Yeah, they are…. I'm also sure that whoever they wrote it for will find it quite romantic,” you say off-handedly.

He straightens up in his seat. "What do you—”

"Waiting for one's touch," you repeat. "I wonder why wait when the flower can just seize the moment?"

[milky-fixx]

izuru + “sticky”

1.3k words. surprisingly sfw until the very end, which is suggestive. fluff with a hint of angst. post-tybw zombified izuru. izuru's depression and lack of will to go on is its own tw.

Izuru’s come to hate summers.

He didn’t used to—or at least, that’s what Hisagi tells him. That he used to find beauty in all the seasons, that he could often be found notebook in hand, scribbling lines down as inspiration struck. While the picture he painted of Izuru (sunburnt and panting, gloomily fanning himself while griping about the stickiness of the heat) was less than appealing... the point is that he enjoyed the season in some way. The fireworks, the laughing children, the beaches, even the blistering heat.

He could find something poetic in it.

He could find something poetic in living.

And yet.

Something about summers now makes his skin crawl. Though he knows it shouldn't, not anymore. He can't feel the heat anymore, even if it is burning him. Not with his new... "upgrades." Kurotsuchi-taicho would scoff if he could see him shifting uneasily on the park bench now. The new body I’ve designed makes you impervious to trifling things such as the weather! Not even hellfire could stop you, Izuru Kira.

But yet.

Something about this body—this body that can't feel anymore—is unsettled under the glare of summer. The signs of life around him, the sounds of revelry—it all gives Izuru the distinct sensation of being an outsider. An undead man, dragged back into life. Bound to a place he has no business still existing in.

The cup of shaved ice in his hands is overflowing, dribbling onto the pavement between his feet, pooling into a puddle of melted watermelon sugar and ice. It's sticky, leaving a mess between his palms. He's barely touched it. He doesn't pay mind to it.

Pensive as he is.

The sound of laughter is a welcome reprieve. Offers a hand out of his thoughts, where he's often found himself these days. His gaze focuses, finding you.

You.

Giggling as you try to lick your fast-melting shaved ice as it dribbles off the edges, the peach syrup leaving a sticky trail on your shirt.

"Oopsies," you say as you catch his gaze. You crack a grin. "Made a mess." Oddly, you don't seem at all upset about it.

He manages a small half-smile, the sight of your joy making something in his chest clench. As if his once-beating heart could still pump.

"You don't like yours?" you ask, pointing at his forgotten treat.

"Ah. No. It's not that..."

You wait patiently for an answer that never comes. Izuru stares at the mess in his hands. He didn't really intend to eat it.

He only agreed to go out because of you.

"Wanna try mine?" You beam at him.

Izuru blinks. "No, thank you," he says politely, his lips twitching at the corners when you pout. He sets his cup down on the bench beside him, wiping his hands on the wooden planks. Pretending for a moment that he's not in utter awe at your radiance.

His palms used to get clammy when he was nervous. Izuru thinks they would be if he could right now.

But that's your allure, he supposes. You can take the undead parts of him, his cold, static heart, and make him feel something again. As if he's not just a hollowed out shell of himself. A remnant of who he once was.

You make him feel alive.

Or at least, as close to alive as he's been in awhile.

"Mm, Izu... I really think you'd like mine better."

"...You think so?" he says absently. Lost in thought, he doesn't catch the mischievous glean in your gaze. If he did, maybe he would react in time.

He stills as your leg hooks over him, settling onto his lap. Your arms come up to hang loosely around his neck. In this position, you're very much straddling him. If he could, he think he'd go red, as red as his shaved ice you've knocked over in your movement, pooling onto the pavement below.

"What are you—we—” Eyes wide, he's floundering for his words. You always have this effect on him—leaving him stumbling for his wits.

"Izuru," you pout. "You sure you don't want to try?"

"I—" His hands grip your thighs, attempting to hide the revealed skin that shows with your skirt hiked up. He's not pushing you away—he never could, anyways, not after you've stuck by his side—but in warning. His gaze darts around.

"What if someone sees--"

You giggle again, before shoving a spoonful of your shaved ice into your mouth. Before he knows it, you're swallowing his complaints with a kiss His surprise leaves his lips parted, and your tongue slips into his mouth.

Peaches. You taste sweet like peaches, the syrupy liquid dripping into his mouth with every press of your lips against his.

He makes a sound in the back of his throat, somewhere between a sigh and a strained whimper. His hands search for purchase, finding it by digging into the softness of your thighs. You squeal into the kiss as he grasp adjusts you, wrapping your thighs higher around his waist.

The two thoughts occur to him, in direct conflict.

You two shouldn't be doing this in public.

2. He doesn't want to stop.

He should.

...But he really doesn't want to stop.

Despite himself, he deepens the kiss, pressing his lips insistently against yours. Reminding himself that he's here, that you're here, that you've chosen him, of all people. A trail of syrup dribbles down his chin, and he bites back his grimace.

A small price to pay. If given the choice, he would drown himself in you. In your sticky, syrupy sweet love for him.

You pull away from the kiss with a small gasp, your eyelashes fluttering. Despite himself, Izuru's lip twitches, a small barely-there smile as he presses his forehead against yours. Your breathing is harsh as your nose brushes his.

"Well?" you ask breathlessly. "Did you like it?"

His lips part in contemplation.

"It was alright," he concludes with a wrinkle of his nose. "Too sweet." The delivery made it... palatable."

"Delivery, huh?" You raise a brow, smirking. "I had no idea it was that easy to get you to try things..."

He stiffens. "That—it's not like that!"

"Maybe that's how I should get you to do everything from now on~"

He sighs as he looks away, his fingers digging into your thighs. You giggle, cupping his face in your hands. Reluctantly he glances up at you with a sullen look.

"Don't be like that, Izuru. Don't you want more?" you ask him. Briefly chewing on your lip, making sure he catches the movement.

He drags his attention from your lips to your eyes. A flicker of interest stirs in his heavy gaze.

"...Will you give it to me the same way?"

"Only if you ask~"

He huffs, rolling his eyes. He squeezes your thighs again, pausing once his thumbs catch on something sticky. It's at this moment that he notices the sticky residue of his syrup left on your skin. So enraptured by the sight of the red smudges, he nearly misses your next words.

"There is another mess I'd like you to clean up, but we can't exactly do it in public..."

He stares up at you uncomprehendingly, until you raise a brow suggestively. Stiffly, he grabs you, easing you off of him and onto the bench, before he stands. Reaches out a hand behind him.

"We can clean up in my barracks."

"Oh~ Is Lieutenant Kira inviting me over to his place?"

He pauses, glancing at you sternly. "Only because you've made a mess," he says, before swiftly leading you back to his private quarters, haste in his steps.

Needless to say, he is thorough at cleaning up the mess you've made.