#you are a Speck of Insignificant Dust on my Boot

[artificer-real]

i havent had a nightmare in many many years (or atleast not one i remember), but last night i had this dream where regicide suddenly became the most popular rainworld ship and i was the only one who disliked it and yknow. i think that actually fits the bill

[kindersurprisebacterium]

Mine (Simon Riley / Reader)

CW: posessive Simon, questionable power dynamics, face sitting, vaginal sex, implied violence

Gender Neutral AFAB Reader

WC: 2.9K

His lips were warm. I could taste the dirt and salt on his skin. His dark hair stuck to his forehead, wet with river water. A rush of heat sparked through my limbs as his hand settled on my waist. 

His name was Aidan, I think. I only paid attention to his dark eyes, which stared me down across the field. His hands gripped his gun tight. He squinted as he looked through the scope, pulling the trigger with confidence. As I stepped up to the range, his hand brushed against the small of my back.

I didn’t hesitate when his sodden fingers wrapped around my wrist, pulling me behind the armory. Despite the chill of the night air against my damp skin, I felt undeniably warm. My face was burning, and I was sure I was blushing madly. 

“You two reek.” 

A booming voice drew me from my thoughts. Digging my palms firmly into Aidan’s chest, I pushed him away. A pair of brown eyes locked onto me. His face was hidden beneath a black balaclava, but I could tell by the way he squinted that there was a hint of anger in his words. ‘Riley’ his nametag said in bold letters. 

“Hit the showers.” 

“Yes, Lieutenant,” I lowered my gaze to the ground. 

-

The next morning in the mess hall I caught a glimpse of Aidan. Thick, blood-soaked bandages covered his face. His nose was taped up and his lips were parted as he struggled to breathe. As his eyes met mine, his brows raised. His bottom lip trembled ever so gently and the tray of food in his hands shook. 

“Don’t come anywhere near me-” he sputtered, quickly spinning on his heel. An undeniable look of disgust was upon his face. His eyes flicked over my body as if I was some insignificant speck of dust. I felt naked under his gaze, a primal vulnerability I hadn’t felt since childhood. 

I stepped forward, the soles of my shoes squeaking against the linoleum. He abruptly pulled away. The parfait on his tray tipped over. His pupils were constricted into tiny black pinpoints. I watched as his chest heaved as he took in shallow, shaky breaths. 

The familiar pang of soreness rose in the back of my throat. Burning towers welled in my eyes. I pursed my lips and dug my heels into the ground. Breaking off into a sprint, I pushed through the mess hall doors. I wrapped my arms around my chest, pulling the collar of my hoodie up to my face. 

“Private,” Said a gruff voice. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, were a familiar pair of brown eyes. My lip quivered as the thoughts running through my head began to spiral. The ache in my throat was now burning. Tears streamed down my cheeks. 

“I’m sorry-” I blurted out. His gloved hand quickly reached out, fingers hesitantly brushing against my face. He wiped the tears from my cheek with the pad of his thumb. His palm rested against my cheek. Sighing, I leaned into his touch, feeling my tensed muscles slowly relax.  

“Why don’t I walk you to the dormitories.” It wasn’t phrased as a question. His arm wrapped around my shoulder. I nodded silently. 

His touch was comforting, and he acted softer than I’d seen him before. It was a stark contrast from his brooding personality in the field. My heart pounded in my ears as his fingers traced idle patterns into my sleeve. It felt oddly intimate for a superior officer like him to be acting this way. 

The dirt crunched beneath our combat boots. I sniffled, my sinuses congested after crying. The overwhelming feeling of fatigue washed over my body. I’d only just woken up, but I needed to go back to sleep. With half-lidded eyes, I leaned into my Lieutenant, my shoulder bumping against his ribs.

“Tired?” He asked, fingers sliding down my arm. 

“I’m sorry,” was all I could manage to say. 

“It’s okay, private. Take the day off from training. I don’t want you shooting with your head bogged up.” 

We stilled as we reached my door. He glanced at the door, labeled with my last name, and then back to me. My stomach fluttered as I looked up at him through my wet lashes. 

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” 

His arm dropped to his side. I wiped my nose with my sleeve, standing up straight. My fingers wrapped around the doorknob, pushing it open with a soft creak. I caught him looking inside my room, eyes scanning the assortment of items I’d stolen from home, and the posters that hung on my wall. 

I felt heat rise in my face as his brown eyes settled back on me. He reached out, gently grabbing my shoulder once more. 

“I wouldn’t pay any of these men much mind if I were you.” He spoke plainly. 

-

The scorching water felt soothing against my skin. I stood under the faucet, tilting my head back into the stream. My sandals squeaked as I shifted my weight onto one of my feet. I ran my fingers through my hair, scrubbing the suds into my scalp. 

“You seen that new recruit?” A voice said with a laugh. My fingers stilled in my hair. Suds ran down my wrists. 

“Don’t try it. Didn’t you see what Lieutenant did to Aidan? Sent him straight to medical for a single kiss.”

Nausea swelled in my chest. I clasped my hand over my mouth, muffling my breathing. Thoughts whirled inside my head. I felt guilty, guilty for leaving Aidan battered and dressed in soiled bandages. Guilty for the way my stomach fluttered around my Lieutenant. I balled my hands into fists, stepping out of the stream of hot water. 

“Looks like lieutenants got a little obsession then, huh?” 

-

A soft knock echoed from the door. I pulled the comforter from my body and rose to my feet. I tugged the hem of my shirt, letting it fall over my bare thighs. Swallowing the bubbling anxiety in my throat, I grasped the doorknob. 

He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest. His eyes raked down my body, and back up. 

“I haven’t seen you on the field today,” a touch of annoyance threaded through his voice. 

“I just-”

“Can I come in,” he stepped forward, pushing past me. Sighing, I pushed the door closed and turned, pressing my back against the mahogany. 

“Simon, did you hit Aidan?”

His eyes widened. He stepped forward. The fluttering in my gut only grew as he closed in. I could feel his breath through his balaclava. 

“I didn’t want him going near you. The men in these barracks don’t deserve someone like you.” His hand gently cradled my head. “I want you to myself.”

“You could’ve said something,” I mumbled. He had a glint in his eye that seemed almost predatory. His other hand rested on my hip, fingers digging into my skin. 

“I don’t want anyone else to touch you,” he grunted, leaning in closer. “Not a fucking finger.” His lips met mine through the fabric of his balaclava. 

“Lieutenant,” I said against his mask. 

“It’s Simon,” he grunted. 

“Take off the mask, Simon.”

A noise slipped from his chest. I couldn’t tell if it was a grunt or a response. His grip on my hip tightened as he pulled the fabric from his head. 

Thick scars marred his pale skin. Thin white lines from years ago now blended in with the creases in his skin. His nose, prominent and strong, was also crooked. His jaw was sharp, and imposing. Short blonde stubble adorned his face.

His hair was a mess. His waves were tussled and flattened by his mask. I reached out, running my fingers through his hair. His stiff body softened, leaning into my hand. 

“I want to feel you,” he inched his face closer to mine, eyes flicking across my face. His lips pressed against mine. They were rough as they slowly moved against mine. I wrapped my fingers around his wrist, guiding his hand underneath my shirt. He groaned against my lips, fingers groping every inch of skin he could find. 

He hooked his arm around my back, pulling me close to his body. A dull throbbing sparked in the pit of my stomach. I whined against his lips. My fingers twirled around his blonde locks and tugged. 

“Tell me you need me,” he mumbled against my lips. 

“Simon-”

“Tell me,” his tone grew more pressing. He toyed with the hem of my shirt between his fingers, inching the fabric over my hips. His brown eyes were locked onto the growing wet patch in my underwear. I looked away, teeth sinking into my bottom lip. 

He nudged his thigh between my parted legs. A soft noise slipped from my tongue. His plush lips trailed kisses down my neck. 

My head felt like it was spinning. His hands on my body was a feeling I craved. Every stroke of his thumb, squeeze from his calloused fingers, I needed it. 

“I need you, Simon.” 

He laced his fingers with mine, tugging me forward. He stepped backward toward my bed, tugging me along. His calves met the bed frame. The mattress creaked as he moved onto the bed. With two fingers he urged me to step forward. His brown eyes raked up and down my body. I kneeled onto the mattress, quickly straddling his hips. His hands gripped my hips tight, fingers digging into my ass. 

I gripped my shirt, pulling it over my head. I felt his cock stiffen through his jeans, straining against the tight fabric. I rested my palms on his toned chest and slowly rocked my hips against his. His hands guided me, grinding my core against his hips. 

I pressed my lips to his in a sloppy kiss. His tongue darted out, running along my bottom lip. I parted my lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into my mouth. He moaned into my mouth, rutting his hips up against me. His cock twitched from within his jeans. 

“Sit on my face-” 

“What?”

“Sit on my face. I need to taste you.” 

He stared at me with half-lidded eyes, pupils dilated. Swallowing the rising nerves in my chest, I slipped my fingers into my underwear, pulling them down my hips. His brown eyes locked onto me as I shifted my weight, pulling the garment down my leg. I gripped the headboard, straddling his chest. My breathing grew shaky as I stared down at the blonde beneath me. 

“Simon, I don’t know if I can-”

“Please,” he ran his palms up my thighs, gently holding my waist in his hands. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip. His brown eyes were locked onto my cunt. Clenching my jaw, I placed my knees on either side of his head. His expression was that of bliss. A rosy tint dotted his cheeks. I lowered my hips onto his face, giving him just enough room to breathe. He licked a thick stripe up my cunt. Shuddering, I lifted my hips from his face. 

“I said sit,” he wrapped his arms around my thighs, pulling my hips flush to his face. He flicked his tongue against my clit. My fingers ran through his hair, holding tight as he toyed with my clit. 

“Simon,” I whined, letting my head fall back. My stomach tensed, thighs clenching around his head. I gently rocked my hips against his face, grinding my clit against his tongue. He moaned against my cunt. Jolts of pleasure shot up my spine. My cunt clenched around nothing, a moan ripping away from my chest. 

He stared up at me, brown eyes now a deep black. Sweat beaded down my heaving chest. My breath turned into shallow pants as he worked his tongue against me. His gaze locked onto me. He was eating up every reaction from me, cock twitching in his jeans. 

He wrapped his lips around my clit, sucking harshly. Tears welled in my eyes. I cried out his name, my words coming out as incoherent wails. My grip on his hair tightened. His brows furrowed, eyes squeezing shut as he lavished my cunt. 

I knew I wouldn’t last long. My thighs were quivering beside his head and the tension in my stomach only built with every movement of his tongue. My vision blurred as my eyes unfocused. Drool spilled from the corner of my parted lips. 

The tension in my limbs snapped, breaking all together. I writhed, grinding my hips against his face. He moaned into my cunt, only adding to the cacophony of pleasure wracking my body. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I choked out a sob, calling his name as I rode out my high. 

In a moment I was on my back, shaking as I took in gasping breaths of air. My lungs burned. His soft lips pressed kisses along my jaw. He cooed soft praises into my ear, fingers soothing over my stomach. 

“You did so good for me,” he whispered. 

“Simon,” I spoke through heavy breaths “fuck me. Need you inside.”

His eyes widened. He stared at me blankly, as if waiting for me to say another word. When I didn’t, he quickly pulled his shirt from his chest, dropping it onto the bed. Biting my lip to hide the smirk on my face, I pulled his shirt over my bare chest, looking down at the name tag on the lapel. In bold letters ‘Riley’

He stiffened, pulling away to look at my bare body, draped in his shirt. He groaned, fiddling with his belt. His fingers slipped underneath the band of his jeans, pushing them down his hips just enough for his cock to spring free. His cock was thick and flushed at the tip. A string of pre-cum drooled from his head. 

“Condom-” he mumbled, reaching toward the nightstand. 

“I’m on the pill. Please, Lieutenant,” I crossed my ankles behind his back, keeping him locked between my legs. 

“Fuck- okay,” he spat onto his cock, using his hand to spread the slick around. He gripped my knee and pushed it toward my chest. I watched as he lined himself up with my cunt and slowly pushed forward. 

I tossed my head back against the covers as he slipped inside. The stretch of his cock sent jolts of pain down my legs. I clenched my jaw, stifling the moans that threatened to rise from my chest. 

“Fuckin’ gripping me,” he grunted. He swiped his thumb against my clit, tightly circling around the nerves. I whined, his name rolling off of my tongue. He inched forward, cock twitching inside of me. His hips stilled as he bottomed out. Both of our heaving bodies were sticky with sweat and spit. His pale skin glistened ever so slightly in the dim lighting. 

“Move, please,” I spoke through heavy breaths. He glanced down at my shirt- his shirt with a smirk. His hands gripped the covers on either side of my head. The bed creaked beneath us as he began quickly thrusting his hips. My body jolted with every rut. 

I whined. I could feel him in my stomach, knocking the wind from my lungs. Every thrust made me feel so impossibly full, as if I’d burst if he went any faster. 

“Mine,” he grunted, “say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Simon,” I whimpered, gripping his biceps. 

“Nobody else can fuck this pussy. Nobody else can touch you-” he grunted. His pace sped up, each thrust growing harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. 

“Simon!” I cried out. My nails dug into his skin, leaving behind thin red lines in his pale skin. 

“Nobody can fuckin’ look at you,” he punctuated his words with a thrust of his hips. 

“Simon, please!” I sobbed. I didn’t know what I was begging for, but I needed it. Needed more. 

“That’s it. Taking my cock so well,” he groaned, pressing his chest to mine. 

His teeth sunk into my neck, hard enough to bring bubbles of blood to the surface of my skin. Hot tears ran down my face. 

My vision blurred, brows knitting as each thrust drew me closer to my orgasm. I could feel his cock twitch inside me. His grunts softened, blending into higher-pitched moans. 

“Gonna cum in you-” his speech grew slurred. Each syllable blurred into an incoherent mess of sound. My body felt tense like my spine was being pulled tight. My back arched off of the bed, a cry slipping from my parted lips. 

A rush of heat washed over my body. My muscles contracted, quivering as the last bit of strength was tugged from them. I sounded distorted, voice laced with lust as I cried out his name. I went limp in his arms, cunt squeezing his cock tight. His hips stilled, shuddering as he came. 

Warmth trailed down my inner thighs, spilling onto the covers below. With a lewd squelching sound, he pulled out, watching the mess of cum drip between my legs. The mattress shook as he collapsed beside me. His toned arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me into his warm chest. 

He peppered soft kisses over the back of my sweaty neck. His fingers absently traced patterns into my sticky skin. I couldn’t help the smile that came to my face. I glanced down at the nametag on my shirt. I felt branded. Labeled. But a part of me liked it, craved that kind of affection. 

“Mine.” He mumbled, just barely audible.

Masterlist

[deadlittledogs]

Could you do like a small diary entry or review of your 2022? You’re really cool btw:)

January 8th 2022, the cusp of a new year, held a lot of hope for me. The year was young and I was younger, finding myself on the plains of Southern Oregon on a small vacation with a friend. The land was flat, covered in a hearty layer of snow and ice, and the dark hills that lined the distance were dusted with a faint coating of white. We arrived exhausted but with jovial spirits, exploring the property for the first time and coming to find that the sun had quite the powerful heat to it. It burned rather hot and high, leaving my mouth dry and my lips flaking by the time we returned back to the cabin. 

A few days into our stay, I walked out onto the land alone, clad in my snow boots and a woolen sweater to keep me warm. I ventured along through the edge of the forest where the cabin sat and eventually emerged out onto the plains, walking along on a muddied trail lined with frosted sage brush and frozen wildflowers. My breath swelled into plumes of white in the space before me and a steady trickle of salt leaked from my nose. The further I ran near the river, the more oppressive the heat from the sun became, and eventually I stripped myself of the top half of my clothing and walked completely topless through the terrain. My shoulders flushed a heady rose color and my skin itched under the powerful force of the sky. It had been quite some time since my body had come to touch the light.

I came to stop under an eagles nest that was perched upon a wooden power line by the edge of the river and watched as they flew from their spot and into the forest that edged the flatlands; shrinking from two great beast in the sky to small, insignificant specks swirling off by green hills and puffy billows of clouds. I collected their feathers that had been caught in the brush and prayed, feeling fulfilled, spiritual, enlightened. It was almost enough to give me purpose in that moment. To lay nude upon the stretch of blanketed snow, in a land so similar to my ancestors but yet so different, blessed with small givings, I felt my heart soar with meaning.

Later in that week I fed horses grass biscuits from my palm and visited a Buffalo farm, every morning my friend and I loaded kindling into the wood stove to provide heat and I’d spend the hours gazing out the window and watching as time shifted the land through many different phases. It wasn’t a perfect trip and I had cried under those country stars more often than once, but still, I had hope.

I couldn’t fathom things getting much worse than they already were, and here, in the prairie, the concept of hope, love, and forgiveness seemed so much more palpable. I had seen eagles soar and smelled simmering woodsmoke, had seen the horizon clear of fog and the mountains turned pink from the setting sun. I had felt the desert heat and the chilled valley wind on the flesh of my breast, had seen a sky so clear of city light that the stars seemed to sparkle like a deep, black pool of shimmering river rocks.

 I could survive, I thought, I could be happy one day, somewhere simpler. 

It was unfortunate that instead, things became more complicated. It was the last time I’d see that particular friend for more than 24 hours. I spent the next 11 months afterwards in a state of despair, crying heedlessly into the night, drenching my pillow with all my sorrows and blustering myself into a mean, ugly rash.

I learned what it meant to have your heart broken, to be at a stand still without ever moving forward. I found myself for the first time, in a long time, completely and tremendously alone. I did nothing, accomplished nothing, and hated myself every moment through it. I felt the hope inside me, the prairie that had slowly begun to thaw, gradually freeze over into a thick sheet of ice. 

I have never in my life been so devoid of dreams. 

Now as the year has come to an end and I find myself miles from that valley of snow and sage, I realize that I am lost. 

There is something in this world that has pierced through my starving, gaping mouth like a metal hook, that has ripped me from my river and gutted my weeping, bleeding organs out onto the rocky shoreline. It hurts stupendously to have been emptied like that, to have been feasted on only to have been spat right back out. 

My hopes for 2023 are minimal now that my expectations have been lowered, since my time is too consumed with licking my own wounds than dreaming of something grander. I hope in 2023 I can eat tasty food. I hope maybe, just maybe, I could visit the desert again. I hope I can muster the courage to meet the horses on the property next door. I hope I can swim in the river this summer without drowning. I hope I can go to another pow-wow and see the dancers and hear the rhythm of drums.

It is wise to be hopeful and even if I can’t be right now, I know someday it’ll be possible again. I know someday it might not hurt.

[jacksons-goddess-gaia]

The Dangers of Icicles~ Winter Hearts Imagine

❖ Ateez, San x gender neutral reader

❖ Imagine, angst, fluff, winter

❖ Warnings: Depression

❖ wc: 1385

❖ Tag List: @wonderland-obsession​ @queen-of-himbos​ @gettin-a-lil-hanse​ @atiny-piratequeen​ @atiny-dazzlinglight​ @not-majestic-bluenicorn​ 

❖ Masterlist ❖

. ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

This was made for the Winter Hearts event for Kdiarynet~ Let me know what you all think!

. ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

San wandered the streets, a aching hole in his stomach, eating its way through him to his heart. God how he hated the cold, how he cursed the winter storms that so abused the city streets. The squish of 'snow' beneath his feet felt more like slippery slime coating the soles of his boots. The 'cheery' glare of Christmas lights obnoxious reminder of the season of forced joy, inflicted upon them by capitalistic bastards, more than ready to make a profit off lower class citizens scraping together to try and purchase a piece of the happiness awarded to the 'more fortunate' members of society.

"Silver spoons." The irony of a display of cutlery in a shop window reminding him of an English saying Hongjoong had once taught him. Miserable, cold, wet, and downtrodden San made his way through the streets, feeling more miserable with every window he passed. He stopped trying to smile at those who bumped him as they passed, shooting gasping apologies and seasonal well-wishes to him, instead foraging forward. Shoulders hunched up by his ears, tinged pink by the bitter wind. The night air was rife with high shrieking laughter, the calls of it seemed forced and fake. A sobbing laugh left his chapped lips as he turned the corner, the very sound snatched away by the cold, the blaring sounds of overplayed Christmas tunes mocking him from all sides. San felt so small and insignificant as his feet slowed to a halt. Tears beading his long dark lashes.

Mr. Choi San, Ateez, and Atiny's proud mountain was so tiny and insignificant. A peon, no bigger than a speck among the tall glittering buildings of Seouls Yeongdong-daero shopping district. Unable to even lift his head up to the sky, San stared at the edge of the sidewalk, turned brown from salt and sand they scattered upon the snowy streets. The chill of freshly falling snow piling up around his ankles. His members were all relaxing, no one was doing recordings or practicing alone, even Hongjoong was relaxing and enjoying the holiday cheer back at the dorms with Seonghwa. He had never felt so alienated, so estranged and different. Why was he even here? To buy presents for his members?

In his heart he knew it was an excuse to get away from them, unable to join in their celebrations and jubilation, for what was there to be so happy about? This cursed season, no it was a constant reminder of how dark and lonely this world could truly be. And that's how he was now, alone in the dark streets of winter. A lone tear rolled down his cheek, frigid from the wind's bite it burned its icy touch into his skin as it fell. Desolation taking over his senses as hope left his limbs.

"Look out!" Shaken from his thoughts San was yanked backward. The force of the collision taking him off his feet, air leaving his lungs as he landed on his back, the fall barely cushioned by his padded jacket, and the snow upon the ground.

Dazed and gasping, San hardly noticed the screams of shock or the sound of breaking glass, in fact he didn't even notice the kind people who grabbed his arms hefting him back onto his feet, dusting him off.

He vaguely registered someone mention, how lucky he had been as they assisted a puffy coated figure up from beside him.

"Are you okay?" Your wind burned cheeks looked plump and cheery, better than the santa clauses that bedecked the stores and cards so prolific at this time of year.

your eyes sparkled in the light of the department store, so bright and adorable in your oversized sweater and puffer coat, skinny jeans now stained with the wet of snow. San nodded vaguely recognizing you as the new assistant manager from work. You had started just the month before, you had caught his attention previously, your sweet nature and caring disposition making you a uick favorite of the boys and staff alike.

"Oh! Sa-" You cut yourself even as you recognized him, off glancing around realizing that yelling his name might bring unwanted attention.

If you asked him later why he grabbed your hand in that next moment and raced away from the sidewalk, running oast the piece of pavement where he had once stood, now cracked and covered in shattered icicles, he would have no answer. Nor could he explain why the world seemed so uch brighter, the warmth of the christmas lights guiding his way, the firm crisp crunch of snow underfoot refreshing his spirit. There wasn't an answer for any of it. It was only after pulling you into a small cafe secluded away from the hustle and bustle of everyday shoppers that he relaxed.

"Are you okay?" San felt sheepish as you smiled up at him.

"Yes thank you." He bowed grateful, only to see how the knee of your jeans had been ripped during your tackle, the fabric soaked through from snow. "Oh no here-"

"No really it's fine! I'm just glad you're alright! Those icicles would have skewered you! I've always read about the dangers of icicles I never would have thought-" But as you rambled on about how many people died each year from falling icicles, and how buildings should be required to clear them off regularly, and how a one pound icicle falling at maximum velocity could break pavement let alone humans, San felt himself relaxing. For the first time that day, San felt a real smile break across his lips, listening to you as the warmth of the cafe seeped into your bones. The ice around his heart melting into a warm and ticklish mist.  "In Russia, there was once an icicle that hit-"

"Are you two going to order anything?" The barista's chipped words as she finally grabbed your attention caused your cheeks to flush in embarrassment, finally realizing you had been babbling.

"Sorry-" But before you could bow and offer to leave, San stepped forward.

"Two large peppermint hot chocolates with whipped cream." Gently pulling you forward, hand wrapping around yours San paid, before guiding you over to a table to wait.

"You don't have to-"

"Think of it as a thank you. You saved my life, hot chocolate is barely enough." He said grinning as you stopped trying to pay him back for it. "What are you doing around here anyway? Is your knee really okay?"

San was surprised to see you look down shyly shifting your bag in your lap.

"I was trying to pick out presents for you and the boys but I don't really know what you guys might like. Or that I can afford." San had never seen someone so cute. A happy giggle leaving his lips as he leaned forward plopping his chin in his hands, gazing fondly at you. Something felt so warm and comfortable, sitting there with you as shoppers passed by oblivious to your presence.

"Since I was shopping for them two, how about I make it up to you by helping you pick out presents, then I take you for dinner?" Maybe it was the Christmas lights, or the warm scent of peppermint and cinnamon in the air, or maybe how cute you looked in your Christmas attire, but San felt suddenly bold. He felt tall as the sky, shoulders squared and proud. Brown eyes twinkling as he gave you his most charming smile.

"Like a date?" Heat flushed your cheeks as the barista set your cups down in front of you both, candy cane straws protruding from their bed of marshmallow and whipped cream. The bluntness of your question making his own cheeks flush pink, a nervous chuckle escaping his throat.

"If you'd like to."

Looking at your beaming smile melted away the last of the cold in his bones. Suddenly the season seemed so sweet and beautiful. A feeling of joyous thrill filling his stomach with butterflies.

"Lead the way, mister Choi San." Sometimes, it was the little things, San would decide later. Like laughing at a particularly atrocious sweater together that helped make the season bright. His seasonal depression abated by the beauty of the moments spent with you.

And again upon seeing the others surprise Christmas morning as you both wandered out of his room sleepy eyed, and grinning in your matching if truly and horrifically obnoxious onesies.

Let me know what you think!