mio, 19, he/him, eng/한국어 (learning). nonbinary little thing. tone indicators are appreciated!
reach out to me with your ideas, requests, or just to hang out! i'm always open.
multifandom! not entirely sfw, minors do not interact.
lin lie from marvel rivals, hawks from boku no hero academia, boys from jujutsu kaisen, boys from chainsaw man, leon s. kennedy from resident evil series, alien stage, cod, boothill/sunday/argenti/blade/jing yuan from honkai: star rail.
Jason kisses like he wants to crawl inside your skin. He does. Kisses with him are never casual, he’s always been very dramatic. Each kiss has meaning, he’s never one to do anything half-assed. Especially not when it comes to you, his one and only- his girl. Yes, you’ve been together for almost two years, yet despite this, he still makes sure you never forget just how much you mean to him. You’re everything, and a kiss doesn’t suffice the overwhelming love he has for you. A kiss to him is carving out a piece of his heart and pressing it firm into your hands. But he wants to give it to you, whole.
Kisses are his way of communicating when he’s too tired for words, and with you he doesn’t always need them. Like kisses before he leaves for the night. Slightly needy, reluctant to pull away. Or the slow, sensual good morning kisses when he makes it back home safe. Relief masked through pecks, trailed from his lashes to his lips. Thankful to be given another day to wake up next to each other.
And even after some of your worst fights, he’s there. Yes, things got a bit ugly. He let his tongue slip up one too many times, you’re not so innocent either. But despite this, he loves you too much to let you go to bed wondering where the two of you stand. He stands with you, he always will. What other way to show that than with a sweet press of his lips to yours. Now, you can’t go to bed angry. He turned your brain to mush, he tends to have that power over you.
Then there are the kisses when you haven’t seen each other in days. His job is demanding, always up and down. It does the both of you no justice when all you want is to be in the presence of each other. But unfortunately for you, when duty calls he has to go- even for a little while. But when he gets back, he’s all over you.
You spend an hour in the entrance of your tiny apartment, soaking in each other’s presence. Big palms pressed to your cheeks, pulling you impossibly closer. He’s so tall, he has to curl himself over you- which leaves you at a slightly award angle. But you’re quick to forget any discomfort with the way he’s pawing at you. And Jason, the poor boy, he hasn’t let up since he got his hands on you. Every time you pull back for air, he’s pulling you right back in. Like he can’t to be away from you for even a second. He can’t. This is his way of expressing himself. A kiss pressed to your brow says, “I’m sorry, I hate when we’re apart.” To the tip of your nose, “forgive me.” And finally, your lips. Again, the message is clear without needing to be spoken, “I missed you, I missed you, I missed you.” You missed him, too.
he's been oogling you all damn night. you, who came with your fellow girlies to celebrate one of your friends' birthday, so pretty in your dress and heels you bought just for today.
and he's not subtle with it at all. he knows he's good. real good. your friends were the first to notice: giggling and teasing. until you met his gaze.
such pretty, shiny eyes. like he's the sweetest man alive. like he doesn't wanna eat you whole.
but he wasn't the only one.
there was another man in sight. a drunk, messy and handsy one. a rather nasty one. buying you a drink, catcalling... you ignored it, until it grew physical.
touching your arm, touching your back, touching your tight. touching. and you tried to make him back off, you really did: laughing awkwardly, moving away, ignoring his rambling.
"sweetheart," a new voice took your attention, making you look away from the awful creep that was towering over you. turns out that he saw the commotion and excused himself, making his way through the crowd of people to get to you for the first time in the night. "that guy bothering you?"
with your brief yet certain nod, lie understood. it took him five minutes and some threats covered with a light smirk, the guy ran away as quick as he came.
being certain that the creep was long gone, lie looked down at your sitting self. so pretty; fluttering your lashes at him, heart pounding as you took how just pretty this guy.
his calloused hand began grabbing yours, taking it closer to his lips before muttering,
"name's lie, pretty. lin lie." kissing your knuckles, not daring to look away for even a moment.
didn't like this one too much but i hope you guys did </3 stay safe luv yall
Roommate!Simon Riley who learns the names of your stuffed animals. Quietly sitting on your bed as you introduce them, gaze locked on the soft stuffie in your hands. every time you pick a new one up his eyes stay on the previous one for a few seconds before trailing back to you. he gives the occasional nod, a gruff hum when you tell him where you got it from. he forgets to speak sometimes, seemingly dull gaze boring into you. he sits up a little straighter when you start to glance away thinking he’s lost interest, but no, “Does tha’ one get along with the big fella?”
Roommate!Simon Riley who wants you to talk about your plushies and knickknacks. he likes listening to you talk, listening to your voice, watching the way you gently handle your stuffed animals. it reminds him of the rare plush or two he had growing up, gnarly and hidden away somewhere forgotten, tucked away in a dusty box. they made him feel safe when he was little, something to hold onto, and seeing you carefully arrange yours makes his chest feel lighter. heart a little achy when you let him hold one in his calloused, rough hands. soft, thumb grazing over the fabric, smoothing over stitching
Roommate!Simon Riley who brings you a stuffed animal after he goes to the store alone. he’s learned your preference towards them, too plush, too firm, not the right material - a texture you can’t hold for long, he knows what to avoid. he doesn’t feel embarrassed standing in the kids aisle sifting through brightly colored toys, but he does feel some eyes on him. but it’s for you, and a little bit for him. “Simon, you didn’t have to—”, he silently loves when you say that, gives him the opportunity to respond, “Wanted to.”. he wants to make your day, add to your collection, see you smile and love on it. gives him an excuse to go back to your room and introduce the newbie
Roommate!Simon Riley who misses you when he has to leave on deployments. he knows you miss his presence, even when he scares you by not making himself known. that you miss the way he fills your apartment, bulky figure padding around from room to room. “Got ya this. Don’t miss me too much.”, as he hands you a new stuffed animal before he leaves. one that feels holdable, something you can cuddle with and squish. one with a recorded message, Simon’s gravely voice coming from the comically cute stuffie. he doesn’t look you in the eyes, hands shoved in his pockets as he stands in the doorway, “And don’t think that’s replacin’ me.”
“Thinkin’ of you, lovie.”, a small pause in the recording, his voice a little softer, “Take care of yourself.”
syn: as strong-willed as he thinks he is, aki can't help but indulge you every once in a while. he's too weak for you. or, aki shotguns you.
in the past, aki would’ve never admitted to being an addict.
whether it be the cigarettes that are always a few inches away from his twitching fingers, tucked in his pocket— or the alcohol he lets himself indulge in as a sort of tradition he'd treat himself to; a toast to the next day he lives to see, he likes to think his resolve is a little stronger than an itch in his lungs here and there.
still, it's not like he refrains from doing it— his policy is that he's going to end up in the grave soon one way or another, so in his eyes, it's just one rusted nail in the coffin that's a sliver away from being sealed. you’ve complained about it before, but he just can’t rip himself away from the smoke. it’s too bad he can’t turn you pocket sized and carry you around in his palm; you’re a great substitute to the hit of nicotine in terms of soothing his constantly buzzing mind.
his leniency towards those types of things dashes when it comes to you, though. like the breaking foam of waves that crash against a rocky shoreline.
“i said, no.”
aki thought he’d already been firm enough with you the first time, but evidently not. even so, no matter how much you pout and whine— he is not letting you take a drag from his cigarette.
normally, he wouldn’t care. it’s not like he’s never shared one before— he used to steal drags from himeno all the time, until you expressed your disdain and he stopped immediately. it’s not that he doesn’t find your jealousy cute— quite the opposite, in fact. he just doesn’t want you getting any stupid ideas.
you’re certainly not making it easy for him, though.
“come on aki, please?” it’s not uncommon for you to plead like that. since you’ve started dating, aki, or rather, you, have found that the best way to melt his strength of will is to beg.
aki likes taking care of you. it’s in his nature; whatever spirit of a big brother that was left in him after he lost his family gradually nurtured and bloomed in your relationship, especially with someone as… irresponsible as you.
as such, it’s his (self appointed, you’d argue) job to make sure you’re in good health. and he’s very quickly picked up on the fact that learning to say no to you is the one and only lifeline keeping this relationship from drifting off into an irreversible spiral of spoiling you to no end.
in this particular instance, you approached him one morning with a poorly hidden agenda; the balcony door slid open as warmth from the apartment mingled with the chilly early morning breeze. aki was immersed in his newspaper and halfway through a cigarette when you’d spoken up, with the request to ‘have a taste’. he’d immediately said no and left you looking like a sad wet cat on the porch to make breakfast.
he’s regretting that decision thoroughly, now. you won’t stop bugging him, and even though he finds comfort in the sound of your voice, it’s the last thing he wants to hear right now. not because you’re annoying, but that he knows if you say his name in that tone a few more times he’ll fold.
“why not? you do it all the time! i just want to give it a try.” you sighed softly, tilting your head to the side as you lean against the cold marble of the kitchen counter, watching him wash dirty carrots. the vivid green leaves bob up and down beneath the pressure of the sink water as he scrubs them clean, before looking down at you.
“it rots your bones.”
“your bones are fine!”
“i already told you i’m not going to let you. just give it up, love.” he murmurs, turning his attention back to the vegetables in his hands. “cutting board, please.”
you oblige and lean over the counter, grabbing the wooden board from where it leans against the counter wall and hand it over to him. his hands are wet, so you don’t let go until you’re sure he has a firm grip on the board. he uses his other hand to turn the faucet off, droplets clinging to the reflective metal.
“aww, don’t be like that. what’s the harm in just one hit?” you protested, hauling yourself onto the countertop, legs dangling over the edge as your heels hit the cupboards. aki rolls his sleeves up again, revealing the pale bandages on his arms as he shakes the water clinging to his fingers off and grabs a knife and begins to cut into the carrots, dicing them up.
“don’t be stupid.” he scoffs, not looking at you. you watch his arm move up and down with each motion, the thud of the knife hitting the dull cutting board. "i always am." you grumbled under your breath, but he just ignores you.
“you know that’s not how it works. how do you even think people get addicted in the first place, [name]?” he murmurs, holding the carrots in place with two fingers on the leaves.
“it starts with one hit. just one cigarette. and then it turns into one pack, and then some.” he knows the process all too well.
you sigh forlornly, propping your elbows up on your knees and supporting your chin in your hands, kicking your feet in the air as you study the cozy kitchen. the potted plant you’ve been taking care of sits in the corner, tear-shaped leaves drooping beneath the shade of the cupboards. aki’s mug of cold coffee sits on the counter next to the sink, half full and calling your name. it’s the only thing he’s allowed you to be addicted to. and him, of course.
“you’re such a hypocrite.” you grumbled half-heartedly, rolling your eyes before letting your gaze drift to his profile again, studying the slight purse in his lips as he rests one palm over the blunt edge of the knife and cuts with the other one. you’ve always liked watching him cook; he’s good at it, and there’s something grounding in watching him sprinkle pepper and salt over a simmering pot of homecooked stew on a lazy weekend off.
he finally spares you a glance, peering at you through his dark lashes. his silvery blue eyes reflect a soft shine under the glow of the warm kitchen lights.
“i’m not.” he replies, nose wrinkling slightly as you grin in return and raise an eyebrow.
“sure. why don’t you prove it then, aki?” you challenged, leaning forward to stare down at him. even though you’re perched atop the counter, you’re still barely taller than him. not that you mind, though. you both know all of him belongs to you.
aki frowns, before shaking his head. “i don’t need to prove myself to you.” he mutters under his breath, giving you a resigned sigh. his topknot is messier than usual today; probably because you insisted on doing it for him.
he doesn’t even need to look at you to see the pout weighing on your lips; it shows through your voice when you speak again, as he dumps the carrot chunks into a plastic bowl and cleans his knife off on his apron.
“you’re no fun.” you complained, letting your hands fall to the edge of the marble as your fingers curl around the countertop. the sound of the city drifts in through the crack in the balcony door; the sound of trains whizzing by and the bustle of workers on their morning commute filters in through the breeze, a soundtrack to your morning. aki just bites his tongue and sighs.
you’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t even notice him step away from the cutting board, dumping the carrot bits into a plastic container and leaving the knife behind on the wood to stand in front of you. your knees graze his middle as he reaches behind you, looking for something on the kitchen counter and your breath catches for a moment when he leans in—
until he pulls back again, a pack of cigarettes in his hand. one end of the box is torn, a hole where he taps his finger on the other end and a cigarette slides out, a bundle of drug and addiction. you're about to be excited when you notice the brand label on the blue cardboard— wild raven, the same one himeno smokes. you know it's petty to be upset over such a thing, but that doesn't stop you from pouting like a petulant child (again), crossing your arms over your chest and nudging his shin with your foot.
aki is observant; it's not like he doesn't notice this. he just ignores it in favor of searching for his lighter, leaning over you to reach the elevated shelf of the counter where he last left the lighter you gave him, decked with worn stickers that rubbed off and left papery residue over time. the material is cold against his hands as he rubs his thumb over the cap; the feeling is familiar.
he clears his throat and your attention snaps back to him, like a moth drawn to a lamp. his expression is unreadable, but you try your best to decipher it anyway. you're only able to catch a hint of uncertainty in the slight frown on his lips before he speaks again and you're distracted by his smooth voice.
"i'll make a compromise. come here," he murmurs, tapping his index finger against the film and coaxing a stick out. it slips from the box and he catches it between his fingers, tipping the lid off and thumbing the spark wheel absentmindedly. not enough to strike a flame by any means— but it's enough for fireworks to go off in your gut as you look up at him again and scoot closer on the counter.
"what are you going to do?" you asked curiously, eyeing the cancer stick as he rolls it between his fingers. it slides down his knuckles and he catches it between his middle and index finger, lighting the tip with one swift flick of the lighter.
"you'll see." he answers simply, tearing his gaze off the cigarette to look back at you again as he slots it between his lips. suddenly you're mesmerized; the only thing you can focus on is the curve of his lips and the way the cig balances between them. you hear him breathe in as he leans a little closer to you, standing between your knees as he slowly inhales.
you're mesmerized. there's always been this draw when it comes to aki— something you can't place but that you recognize to be alluring; right now, the only thoughts running through your mind aren't about the cigarette so tantalizing close within your reach like a forbidden apple, or the wet carrot chunks left unattended in the plastic strainer. the only thing on your mind is how close he is, and what he'd taste like if you kissed him right now.
unfortunately for you, there's a stick of paper and drugs blocking your path.
fortunately for you, aki seems to have read your mind.
in one swift motion, he takes his cigarette out his mouth and leans forward, using his free hand to tilt your chin up. he notices the way your lips part like it's muscle memory whenever his own lips are close— it makes him smile; a minuscule, amused twitch of his lips as he exhales the smoke into your mouth. it curls in mini storm clouds like some sort of deathly mouth to mouth, and aki's fingers gently press into your chin to make sure the smoke settles in nicely, trapped between two lovers in a haze.
and before you can even process what just happened, the sensation of his lips pushing hungrily against yours floods your brain, sending a jolt of tingling electricity down your spine as the blaring alarms going off in your brain from the unfamiliar sensation of the smoke are silenced.
a fire spreads through your veins like molten lead as he kisses you, a veil of smoke drifting into the air, curling and snaking about like an oriental dragon made of vapor. it's as if you've been burned by the cherry itself; your cheeks feel hot and you can feel aki's fingers tremble slightly as they find your face, his thumb barely brushing over your cheek gingerly it's as if the slightest hint of pressure might make you vanish into thin air. he tastes like rich coffee and sweet smoke, and something bitter.
you're acutely aware of the way his other arm snakes around your waist, trapping you against the cold marble counter as your teeth graze his bottom lip and his fingers curl into your side. it's something straight out of your wildest dreams until the smoke clogs your throat like cobwebs and you rapidly pull away, coughing as your eyes burn and you cover your mouth. a rare laugh escapes aki's lips, and you shoot him a glare, to which he only ignores, letting it burn away.
it takes you a moment to gather your thoughts as you stare up at his face, pleasantly dusted strawberry red under the glow of the kitchen lights, the tips of his ears pink with a crude mix of want and embarrassment.
"you could've given me a warning next time." is the only thing you're able to get out, the rest of your words dying on your tongue as you cough again to soothe the itch in your throat, rubbing your eyes as you sulk.
it's such a childish thing to do, and yet aki can't help but find it endearing. he's in over his head, and he knows it's far too late to turn back now.
he grabs the ashtray he keeps on the cluttered kitchen counter, smushing the glowing red cherry of the cigarette into the ashtray, extinguishing the life from the ash as it fizzles out, and your hopes go with it.
"wait— you're not gonna do it again?" he glances down at you, blue eyes sharp with a sour expression on his pretty face. it's like you squeezed lemon juice onto his tongue.
"no. like hell i'm letting you get away with more," he says firmly, shaking his head as he steps away from you again. he has a sixth sense for when you're about to complain, so he puts a hand over your mouth to stop the noise from escaping before you can start.
even with the way you're glaring daggers at him, just the fact that you can stand to look at him after he violated your personal space like that makes his chest constrict. it's as if his heart is trying to burrow out of his chest and find its way into your palm. he looks away again to hide the flush on his face.
even then, it was a mistake to keep his fingers over your mouth, because he can feel the very instant your lips curve into a soft, doting smile that only worsens this touchy predicament he's found himself in.
"pleeeeease, aki?" even though your voice is barely audible, it's too much, and you can tell. before he can even blink, he finds himself staring up at you with his chin on your chest and your fingers tangled in his hair, newly loose with his hairtie around your wrist. it would've been cute if not for the shit-eating grin on your smug face.
aki groans and hides his face in your shirt, reluctantly letting you pull him closer. as much as he'd like to ignore the effect you have on him and continue preparing a warm lunch for the two of you, his willpower has melted away like the wax on a candle, no fight left in him to protest as you press a kiss to the top of his head.
"you're too much." he grumbles irritably, voice muffled.
you only smile, and although he can't see it, he can hear it when you speak, and it makes his heart pound wildly between his rotting lungs.
"you love me." and he hates how you don't even realize just how right you are.
aki doesn't consider himself a hopeless romantic. but if there's one thing to ever be addicted to, you're it.
lin lie calls you princess, sweetheart and love, especially when you're mad at him.
cooing sweet praises into your ear as he kiss your jaw, big calloused hands roaming gently over your body... tracing the gap of your spine, squeezing your hip, caressing your sides... before travelling his hand through your body to your hair, fingers locking tenderly between your locks as he pulls you closer. so closer you could feel his warm breath and smirking lips against your already hot skin.
worse of all, you could hear him laughing under his breath. like he was having fun with your little tantrum over something you didn't even remember anymore. 'relax a bit f' me, yeah, pretty?'
these words are enough for you to let go of the cross of your own arms, hands seeking his body to pull him flush against you. you hear his soft sight, a satisfied one, before giving you another kiss on the side of your head.
sigh... lin lie using his weight to pin you down the bed after a long, tiring day... using your body as a comfy pillow while you kiss his jaw, whispering sweet nothings right into his ear. :(( and he's so drained out he'll just hum in agreement with everything you say, his rough hands caressing your back slowly and tenderly underneath your shirt.
it doesn't take even ten minutes for him to sleep on you. his head resting on the crook of your neck and arms wrapped around you as if he's afraid you might slip away... :(((
