#The warmth with which she looks at him in later seasons gah

[redheadspark]

Soulmate: Benedict Bridgerton #24 😍

A/N - GAH! I find this quite cute for our Benedict! Thank you so much for requesting this, anon! I hope you enjoy it

Tell me

Summary - You never thought you would find someone so in tune with your thoughts and feelings. Then your soulmate came along.

Warnings - the smallest hint of angst with mostly fluff rolled in there

"Perhaps we can go with lilies for the wedding?"

"Lilies are not going to be in season, maybe roses are for the best,"

Benedict looked over at you tentatively, seeing you look at the samples of flowers that were laid out in front of you both as you were getting with your mother and his mother. On a warm spring morning, mere months before your wedding and you becoming an official Bridgerton, stress has crept up into your life. Of course you knew that engagements were all fun and filled with joy, but also planning out the wedding was another whole obstacle that you had to get through together.

Mostly, with your mothers.

Now Benedict's mother, the Matriarch of the Bridgerton household, was more than willing to go with all that you wanted to haven your wedding. She took to you instantly when Benedict started courting you, thinking of you as nothing but a joy for his second eldest son. You loved her calmness and yet stern behavior with her children, feeling that warmth in your talks with her and how you would to walk through the garden together.

Your mother, was a whole different breed. She made sure that things were right with you and Benedict when you two found to be soulmates, going through all the protocols and getting it in writing when you and Benedict had to register as soulmates in your county. It was a whirlwind when you two found out, the talk of the town for months on end since soulmates pairings were always celebrated. Your parents were soulmates, though they found each other a bit later than normal. As was Benedict's parents, who found out when they were children.

You were their only child, so your parents walked you through all the steps with soulmates and the protocol that was needed to take place before you were going to be married. Thankfully, you both were from the upper class and some steps were skipped, but registering as soulmates and addressing it to the Queen was a requirement for now. The last step that was needed was the wedding, which would include a soulmate bonding ceremony before you would exchange vows.

It was a lot to drink in, and although you were putting on a brace face for the sake of your family and your new family that you were marrying into, it would get too much at times. Benedict felt it, a major part of your soulmate bond was feeling and experiencing each other's emotions. You would feel his stress when he would paint something for his art class, his happiness when he would get great critiques when he would feature his art in the gallery, and his passion for you when you two were intimate together.

It was the same with you: He felt everything you were going through. You couldn't hide al lot that was going through your head at times, though you could mask it in front of others. Benedict knew you far too well, even without your soulmate bond, and you both were open with one another when it came to things that were stressful or hard to deal with.

Which was currently now, your mother and future mother in law trying to plan your wedding.

AS they were talking, Benedict placed his hand on yours under the table, having you looked over at him and see him read your eyes and your bond screaming out in anxiety and in worry. You said nothing, knowing he knew without saying a word. He then cleared his throat, your mother and his mother stopping their chatter and looking at the pair of you as Benedict stood up. He helped you up with your joined hands, smiling at the two women.

"We're going to take a small walk, if that's alright," He said to them. Your mother looked rather confused about to say something, but his mother patted her arm and nodded her head.

"Go on then, we can take it from here and finalize the invitations. Go on," she urged you two, you giving her a small smile as she winked. Your mother clearly didn't see it, yet as you two were walking away, you heard Ms. Brigerton talk to your mother.

"You remember how it was when you were planning your wedding? Let's let them have a moment,"

"Ah, I see what you mean."

Benedict walked youth out of the parlor you were in and down the hallway a bit, knowing that you two were going to be alone and out of earshot from anyone hearing. You were feeling your heartbeat go a bit faster and faster as you were walking, yet either of you were saying nothing as you walked calmly and slowly together. Finally, after getting a bit further down the hallway, Benedict took a left turn into one of the smaller studies, ushering you inside the darker room since the curtains were partially drawn.

He closed the door, you immediately were engulfed in his arms.

"I got you, sweetheart," he hummed against your hair as you were breathing him in and holding him tightly, "I felt your worry,"

You looked at him with a hint of panic, eyes drilling into his, "You did?"

"As your soulmate, I feel everything, remember?" He reminded you coyly, though you grimace ask Benedict sighed, "Your worry for this wedding is making me wish to will it all away for you. It's only a wedding, my love,"

"For us it is, but not to our families and all of society," You mumbled, Benedict humming as you spoke some more, "Soulmate weddings are vastly important, far more than regular weddings. I just...I don't want to let my mother or father down--"

"Who says you're going to?" Benedict asked you calmly, interrupting your fears and worries. He then reached down to lace your fingers together softly, fingers were a constant to one another as he held your joined hands up to be in front of the sunday's that were coming into the study.

"If I know one thing about you, my darling, it's that you can do no wrong with your family," Benedict said to you soothingly as you both were looking at your joined hands hovering in front of you, "This wedding, in my mind, is simply a wedding and nothing more than that. We have the rest of our lives to look forward to being together. And if you let me, I will do anything and everything to make it all less stressful for you, alright?"

You nodded silently, Benedict released your joined hands to to cradle your face and kiss you silently. You leaned into him, breathing him in with the kiss he gave you and feeling the strong emotion of love from Benedict. It was strumming strong, like a heartbeat, within your gut. You loved that feeling of love you got from Benedict: it was both intense and yet gentle. One of the greatest feelings you ever felt in your entire life, and to know that you got that from your Soulmate feeling that towards you was even better.

"It's just you and me, always. You and me," He whispered against your lips as he barely pulled away from the kiss, "It'll always be you and me, I promise."

He held that promise on your wedding day, one of the greatest days of your life.

The End.

Soulmate Prompt Session

[alleyskywalker]

Because I make bad life choices, instead of sleeping I’ve been watching Theon and Yara scenes on YouTube and let me tell you… They are so amazing… She loves him SO much, I just can’t… They could have been so happy ruling the iron islands together (and she’s going to be so devasted that he’s gone) 😓

[takingcourage]

Anything Involving You

Pairing: Simon Montjoy x MC

Word Count: 1,050

Summary: Cassidy learns to cope with the changing seasons in her new home. 

Note: Now that NaNoWriMo has ended, I’m finally getting around to finishing the last two stories that were requested during my fic giveaway in October. This one is based somewhat loosely on a dialogue request from @needalittlerain​​ which I originally intended to write for Thomas Mendez. My muse had other plans, however, and this very quickly turned into another story about Simon Montjoy. Can AVSP please be given a wide release soon? It’s tragic that Simon is still an unknown entity to so many players...

Cassidy's first winter in London was proving to be... an adjustment.

It wasn't that she couldn't handle the change in temperature. She and Simon had engaged in their fair share of disagreements about whether or not 2° Celsius could really be considered cold. 2° Fahrenheit was coat-and-scarf weather, certainly, but 2° Celsius was solidly above freezing. 

Prior to London, she’d been used to ice and frozen ground. Cracked skin and bitter winds that cut to the bone were to be expected; sputtering gray skies were not. As it turned out, winter in England meant near-constant precipitation that made the cold cling to her like an obtrusive second skin.

"You're saving money on Cetaphil," her grandmother had reminded the last time they'd spoken on the phone. 

While the observation was accurate, Cassidy could have purchased several bottles of lotion with what she'd spent on waterproofing shoes and washing jackets that had become dingy with rain. Blowing a damp lock of hair from her eyes, she determined to leave her displeasure at the door. She’d be warm and dry soon. 

"I thought I heard you,” Simon called as the latch clicked into place. 

Slinging her computer bag further onto her shoulder, she leaned down to tug down the long zipper on her riding boots. “As promised, I’ve made it back to you in one piece.” 

"Another productive afternoon of research?" He joined her in the entry to his flat, arm outstretched to take the shopping bag looped over her straining fingers. She passed it willingly, then slipped the rest of the way out of her shoes. 

"Cracking," she confirmed, sighing as the coat slid from her shoulders. 

"And you followed it with a trip to the high street...?" Simon lifted the bag meaningfully. 

"Just for one thing I noticed we needed." She tucked the rogue strand of hair behind her ear, wondering how it still hadn’t managed to dry when it had been hours since the last drop of precipitation. Seeing the objection already evident on his face, she offered a preemptive defense. ”We've already established our differing definitions of need." His brow still slanted to consider the fold of chenille peeking out the top of the bag. "Trust me, by the end of the night you'll be grateful that I bought the biggest blanket I could find for us to share."

“You’re cold again?”

“I’m freezing!” 

His eyes rolled toward the ceiling, though he thought better of the impulse momentarily. Dutifully depositing her new purchase on the counter, he freed his hands. “Allow me to assist, darling.” 

Cassidy took a step closer, dropping her arms as she walked into his chest. The merino wool was blissfully dry and soft against her cheek. Circling her arms around his waist, she began to feel the bone-deep chill seep from her skin....until his hands found their way under her cardigan.

“Gah!” she spun away from him with a shriek. “Your fingers are like ice!” 

Her fiancé had the good sense to look sheepish at the accusation. Cupping his hands, he blew a pair of short, hot breaths and made his way toward her again.

Nonplussed, she flicked her head in response, feeling the slightest bit chagrined when his step next faltered. “No way. I’m getting out of these wet clothes, into my sweats, and onto the couch as soon as possible.” 

His dark eyes sparkled when she met his gaze, though more from fondness than his usual mischief. “I’ll brew tea and find us something daft to watch on the telly?”

“Mmm, sounds perfect.” 

Making a show to keep his arms behind his back, Simon leaned forward for a chaste kiss. In spite of the chill to his fingers, his lips maintained their typical warmth. 

Cassidy pulled away after several moments. “I’ll be back. Ten minutes.” 

“I’ll put the kettle on.” 

-----

“You’re totally loving this,” she deduced an hour later, sandwiched between the plush pile of the blanket and the solid heat of Simon’s chest. Though it had been some time since she’d finished his tea, her insides were still every bit as warm as the rest of her. 

“It has a rather peculiar appeal, I must admit.” Simon tucked the fabric tight where it had been jostled away from her thigh, making no effort to move his hand back once the task was finished. “Though I suppose I’m predisposed toward any activity that involves having your body pressed up next to mine.” 

Nestling closer, she hummed her agreement. “I have a hard time believing that’s the only reason...” 

He cocked his head, chin resting comfortably atop her crown. “I also tend to favor any activity that involves you smiling that mad, lopsided grin of yours.” 

Her returning smile was hidden between the stitches of his sweater, but she was certain he could sense it anyway. “Mmhmm.”

For the next several moments, she knew nothing but the mesmerizing cadence of his breath as they grew closer with every rise and fall of his chest. Her grip tightened on the ribbing of his shirt, and his fingers tangled through her hair in a responding gesture.

“Anything involving you, really.” 

The quiet words fell to her ears in a rush, though it took her more than a moment to process his easy admission. Careful not to sever their connection fully, she rolled over to get a glimpse of his face. 

“Warm?”

Cassidy giggled at the question, extracting one hand from the blanket to trace the flush of pink tinging his cheeks. “So warm.” Her thumb came to rest on his lower lip, teasing without breaking the seam. “I’ll bet I have that ridiculous smile now, don’t I?”

“It’s utterly moronic.” She could barely hear the hitch in his breath as continued his study of her face. “And one of my favorite sights.” 

Her own breath caught at the tenderness of his tone, and she wondered if he took as much pleasure in putting smiles on her face as she did inspiring his. Lulled into the silence a second time, with the weight of his arm criss-crossing her chest and the endless length of chenille draped over their legs, it was hard to imagine ever feeling cold again. 

[gofordrakgo]

Dwelling Chapter Two

“ ‘You’re like a mom,’ she blurted, her mouth still sticky with peanut butter. Only after the words were out of her mouth did she realize what she said. His eyes went wide, and jam spilled down the crust of his half of the sandwich as he squeezed it too tightly. ‘I… I’ll ignore that if you tell me why your skin is green.’ ”

Dwelling Summary

Dwelling Chapter One

Dwelling Chapter Three

The apartment building itself smelled like mildew and microwaved fish, and Shea couldn’t help but flinch when the smell hit her. Only one overhead light brightened up the entrance and it flickered enough to be headache-inducing. The man working at the desk, an older guy wearing an oversized cross on a gold chain, looked like he hadn’t showered even once since the invention of running water. He looked her up and down, then winked in Drew’s direction. 

“Feel like sharing, Lipsky?” He asked. His voice sounded like someone with a permanent cold trying to speak by submerging their head in water. Shea hated everything about him instantaneously. 

If it weren’t for the fact that she didn’t want Drew to freak out and decide she couldn’t actually stay the night, she would have plasma blasted the slimeball out of the building. And, to be honest, because of the fact that Drew’s only response was to look appalled, and immediately, though subtly enough that anyone else might have missed it, move to put himself between her and the creep. 

Despite her assumption that Drew knew less about real fighting than a toddler at a ninja-themed birthday party, Shea had never felt so protected. Her brothers knew as well as she did that she could handle herself against the worst of the worst, and they never bothered to stand up for her anymore. 

Once, when she was twelve or thirteen, a local news anchor commented to her, on live television, that like most other men, he was counting down the days until she turned eighteen. Her brothers, though they later claimed to be discomforted by his words, said nothing. 

Heath's only contribution was to reprimand her afterward for storming off and leaving scorch marks on the wall backstage. Merrick whined for the rest of the day about how she had gotten all the attention when the broadcast should have focused on the way he’d taken down the villain of the week. Wendell and Westley, she forgave because they were too young to understand what the implications had been, but it was still annoying when they cried all evening about not getting to eat the candy that had been left out for them to have after the interview, even after Shea had snuck them both candy bars from her hidden collection. 

It felt kind of nice, in a simultaneously uncomfortable way, to have someone act protective over her. It seemed as though he were a momentary barrier between her and all of her past troubles. He felt like a personified version of… oh.  She knew then, more like an unspoken instinct than a conscious realization, that she and Drew would, somehow or another, become much closer than some runaway brat and the college student who wanted her gone by the next morning. Everything about Drew screamed out home in a way that home hadn’t for years. The way he placed himself in harm's way for her, the way the lapses of silence seemed natural rather than awkward, even the way they had bickered the whole walk screamed of home to her, of safety and warmth and something else she couldn’t quite place. Love crossed her mind before being quickly dismissed. Acceptance. That was it. 

Still standing between her and slimeball, he began to usher her up the steps. After all the walking they had done, they still had to climb six flights of stairs. 

Somewhere between the fourth and fifth flight, Shea finally looked down at Drew who trailed just a few steps below her. “Hasn’t this place ever heard of elevators?” 

“Just keep walking,” he grumbled, his eyes focused on the stairs like he’d miss a step if he looked up. Never one to like being bossed around, she immediately stopped to glare at him. 

A moment later, Drew crashed right into her. She kept her balance easy enough but worried he might actually go falling backwards down the steps. She grabbed his shoulder to steady him without thinking. Was that a hero thing? Or just something normal people did? She hated that she could no longer tell the difference, and hated the idea of having to question her every choice even more. 

Once he seemed stable enough she snapped her hand back. “Watch your step, poindexter,” she warned, hoping he understood the double meaning behind her words. 

“Nngh- stop calling me that,” he snapped, sending her a glare of his own. He stormed past her, leaving her to actually have to run up a number of steps to catch him. By the time she did, he was in the process of shoving open the door to the sixth-floor hallway. He didn’t hold it for her the way he had when they first entered the building, and she rushed to catch it before it shut and locked her out. She had a feeling, even as angry as he seemed to be, he would have come back to let her in. Eventually. 

The silence had officially become awkward as he unlocked the door to his apartment. The keys kept sticking, and it took him three tries to get the door open. When it finally swung open he, once again, didn’t hold it for her. She inched inside before the door could swing shut.

The apartment was, as expected, not very spacious, though it was pleasantly, if sparsely decorated. A navy blue sofa and matching loveseat were angled towards a tv stand. Though the television itself looked old, his collection of VHS tapes could rival her own. For the first time since she slipped away earlier that day, she actually missed Go Tower. Her quick scan of the movies showed a ton of nostalgic children’s movies, every sort of sci-fi and fantasy out there, and every season of Mighty Martian, but not one good horror movie. Well, no horror movies at all, good or bad. 

She considered commenting, but when she glanced over at him the anger still radiating off of him slapped her in the face. He had his back turned to her, and for a moment she watched him as he dropped all of his books on the counter that marked the end of the living room and the start of the kitchen. He still didn’t look at her, as he rounded the corner and threw open one of the cabinets. Hunger twisted at her stomach, making her remember with near painful clarity that she hadn’t eaten anything since noon. 

She trailed into the kitchen behind him, putting the books she had been carrying in a neat stack beside the ones he’d thrown everywhere. She leaned against the counter and asked, “So. Um. Is Lipsky your last name?” trying to alleviate some of the tension. 

He glanced at her over his shoulder, then turned back again. She continued to watch him as he pulled bread and peanut butter from the pantry and barely stopped herself from grabbing him when he brushed past her to get to the fridge. 

She fidgeted with the hem of her t-shirt, green like most everything else she owned. After what felt like hours of internal debate, but had actually only been long enough for Drew to start slathering peanut butter onto a slice of bread, she decided she should probably apologize if she wanted to try asking him for food again.

He had just finished making the sandwich when she mustered up the courage to mutter, “I- um. Sorry.” He glanced at her, sighed, then looked away again to cut the sandwich in half. He took a bite out of one half, holding the other half out towards her. She snatched it from his hands, worried he’d change his mind. He gave her a startled look. 

“Your room-for the night- is through that door,” he said, jerking his thumb behind him. “Um. The sheets on the bed should be clean, I think I changed them a few days ago.” He shrugged and added, “if they’re not there’s extra in the closet in the hall.” 

“You’re like a mom,” she blurted, her mouth still sticky with peanut butter. Only after the words were out of her mouth did she realize what she said. She felt her face heat up knowing that if he somehow hadn’t noticed the green skin before he would definitely notice now. 

His eyes went wide, and jam spilled down the crust of his half of the sandwich as he squeezed it too tightly. “I… I’ll ignore that if you tell me why your skin is green.”

“Would you believe me if I said I ate too much broccoli as a kid?” She asked. He stared at her, which she took to mean he would not. “I didn’t mean it as an insult, you know.” Every bone in her body begged him to just let it slide. 

“You realize you’re eating my food in my apartment, right? The least you could do is tell me that you’re not carrying some deadly virus I don’t know about!”

“Well, I’m not,” she snapped. “My skins just green, okay? It’s not deadly! It doesn’t come off! And it’s not contagious!” He took a step away from her as she began yelling, and she forced herself to calm down. She didn’t want him to be afraid of her, despite her earlier attempt at threatening him. She’d actually started to like the guy and she didn’t want to completely ruin her one sort-of chance at having a friend. 

She hoped he wouldn’t notice her looking at her hands to make sure they hadn’t caught fire. They hadn’t, which gave her the barest hint of relief. 

Right as she considered that she might have to apologize for scaring him he asked, “Are your brothers green too?” He didn’t seem all that scared to her anymore, which, gah, he annoyed her just as much when he wasn’t scared as he did when he was. What was it about him?

“No.” She jumped up to sit on the counter, letting her legs dangle over the side. “But they’re not… I don’t know, normal, either.”

“Is it a genetic thing?”

“Not exactly.”

“What makes your brothers abnormal?”

“I think every question I answer should get me an extra night. This is personal stuff, Drew.”

He hesitated, then his startled look turned into a smirk. “Counteroffer, five questions get one free night.”

She finished the last bite of her sandwich and crossed her arms. She loved nothing more than a challenge. “One big question or three little ones gets a free night.”

“No. There’s no way I could know for sure which questions are big and which are little. Five questions for a free night. But you can pick and choose what to answer.”

“Three questions but I still get to choose what I answer.”

“Five questions and I’ll throw in one free meal a day.” 

“Three questions for a free night, two more gets the meal.”

Drew stayed silent for a long moment, staring at her. And then he stuck out his hand. “Deal.”

She slapped her hand into his and shook on it. His hand was sticky with the jam that had spilled earlier. Though she elected not to say anything about it he seemed to realize as they pulled away. 

“Sorry,” he muttered and passed her a dampened paper towel. She shrugged off his apology and wiped her hands clean. “So. What is supposedly so abnormal about your brothers?”

She sighed and tossed the paper towel over his head into the trash can behind him. “My oldest brother is kinda blue. Not that most people can really tell. They can tell his hair is blue, though.” She paused. 

Drew did exactly what she hoped he would do. “What about the other?”

“That counts as two questions!” Her grin widened as she took in his glare. 

He crossed his arms and yawned. “Fine. Just answer it. And then I want to go to bed.”

“He’s purple. Like really purple. His skin, his hair, even his eyes. Also, I have two other brothers.”

“I suppose I might as well ask what’s abnormal about them, and just let you stay tomorrow night as well,” Drew sighed. 

Hesitant as she’d been to answer his questions at first, she found herself enjoying talking about it. At least he didn’t know to ask about her powers. 

“They’re twins, Wendell and Westley.” Of her brothers, they were the only ones she still liked and the only ones she worried about missing. “Their hair and eyes are red. Not ginger red, but more like that little drop of blood after getting your finger pricked.” 

“Lovely. I imagine almost every word of that was a lie, but nonetheless, I suppose you can stay tomorrow as well. Cups are here,” he knocked on a cabinet above the dishwasher. “Use the filtered water in the fridge. And… well. Don’t drink my cocoa moo.”

“I’m not ly- wait… Cocoa…moo?”

“Yes. It’s mine. You can’t have any.”

“What exactly is cocoa moo?”

“Nngh! It’s chocolate milk.”

“Why do you-”

“Because I do, alright?”

“Whatever.”

Drew ran his hand through his hair, yawning once more. “I’m going to bed now. Your door locks but only turn the lock halfway if you plan on locking it. Otherwise, it’ll stick and we’ll have to call someone to get it open.”

“Okay. Um… thanks, by the way.” 

“Sure. Just. You know.” Drew shrugged, but she saw the blush that spread evenly across his cheeks. “And yeah. Um. Lipsky is my last name.”

And then he turned on his heel, locked the front door, and disappeared down the hall into what she assumed must be his room. Shea stayed on the counter, staring at the second hand of the clock as it tick-tick-ticked. It seemed unreal. 

In a weird way, Drew Lipsky’s apartment reminded her a lot of home, before the comet. They hadn’t been a rich family at all, back then. Heath and Merrick shared a room that had barely fit their bunk beds, let alone Heath’s desk and Merricks toy box. Sitting on Drew’s counter now, she imagined she could still hear them fighting over who got to sleep on the top bunk that night. Heath almost always came out victorious, until Merrick went screaming and sobbing to their mother. 

Shea had shared a room with the twins, for the first couple years of their lives. Her dad built her a lofted bed before they were born. The crib, which had been built to split into two as soon as the twins were old enough, fit neatly underneath. The babies would have been put to bed an hour before her own bedtime, and she learned quickly to sneak in silence up the ladder to her bed if she didn’t wish to wake them up. She’d get a silent half-hour, reading from a pile of books next to her pillow by the dim glow of a flashlight. Most nights Heath and Merricks fighting would wake the twins. More than once their cries had interrupted her in the middle of the best part of her story, in which case she’d climb back off her bed, and make the older boys fight worse than it had been, adding her own screams and wild punches into the mix. 

Those nights her mother would come in, long before Merrick had the chance to lose the fight, and decide who slept where. Then, she’d take Shea downstairs, pour her a glass of chocolate milk, and they would stay up late, curled up together on the couch, both reading their books.

That was back when her father was just a carpenter, and her mother was just a teacher and they were just normal children. 

Shea glanced over to the fridge, the temptation to pour herself a glass of chocolate milk was strong, despite Drew’s earlier warning. He was already letting her stay with him, despite her being able to contribute nothing except some half-answers to his questions, which he didn’t believe anyway. And already today she had done one thing that he had made a point of telling her not to do. She swung her legs out and leapt off the counter. 

“Maybe some other time,” she said in the direction of the fridge, feeling ridiculous even as she did. Still, hero or normal person, she thought following Lipsky’s basic rule was, in general, the better idea. “Thanks again, Drew,” she whispered, glancing down the hall towards his door. It was easier to say when she wasn’t looking at him. 

Her bedroom, or rather her bedroom for the next two nights, held nothing but a double bed. The blank white walls begged to be painted, covered in posters, anything to stop the room from looking like a hospital room. Even the thought made her sick. She’d spent far too much time in hospitals after the comet struck to be comfortable with them. 

Any notion she’d felt that she was meant to meet Drew strengthened ten-fold when she looked at the bed. As if he’d known she would be the one sleeping in the bed, he had covered it in green sheets, a dark black blanket folded neatly at the bottom. The sheets themselves were soft beneath her fingertips, and the clean lavender scent that wafted off them made her feel incredibly grimy in comparison. She almost wanted to take a shower, before climbing in, but the pillows looked so inviting. 

With a contented sigh, she closed the door behind her, slipped out of her jeans, leaving her t-shirt on and crawled into the bed. She left the door unlocked. 

[yoosungiib]

It's❄THE❄HOLIDAY❄SEASON❄so how 'bout some festively fluffy tree decorating and/or holiday baking headcannons for the happy 'lil family of Saeyoung, Saeran, and MC?

Aha! I have so many requests in my inbox but when I saw this I just had to do it right away~ It’s the most wonderful time of the year, I can’t help it!! ;3

Choi Family Household Holiday/Christmas Festivity Fluff

~~~

Christmas used to be something that Seven dreaded. It was a reminder of how broken his family was, and how much he wished his life could have gone in a different direction.

But now he has his family back together. He has you, the sweet and charming girl who came to the RFA’s rescue, and his personal rescue for that matter. And his brother who he had thought he’d lost. A brother who deep down really does love him back though he still resents everything that happened. Everything had fallen back into place, so now,

Seven was frickin Buddy the Elf.

The three of you dressed in your warm coats, hats, gloves and ransacked the stores getting everything you could.

You bought tinsel, lights, projectors, blow up santas, reindeers and anything else Seven claims you guys need.

“Idiot brother. We don’t even have enough room for all this.”

While Seven works on packing all the stuff he bought into his car, without scratching his baby, you and Saeran go to get the tree.

It makes you smile to see how devoted Saeran is to finding the perfect tree. You can see just how much he really is excited for Christmas.

Saeran picks out a medium sized tree; you offer to help him carry it to the car but he doesn’t let you. He claims it’s because you’ll ruin it somehow, but really he’s just be chivalrous. “N-no, dummy, you’ll drop it.”

Setting up the tree is quite comedic. Saeran doesn’t want Seven to do it because he thinks he’ll mess it up, but Seven also refuses to let Saeran do it because she wants Saeran to relax and have as little work as possible.

You have a video of them doing tug a war with the tree.

When the tree is up, there are so many pine cones of the floor that when Vanderwood comes over to the next day to supervise Seven and clean the bunker, poor guy has a heart attack at the mess.

Seven puts you on his shoulders and walks you around the christmas tree so you can spiral the lights upon it.

Saeran pulls out ornaments, handing them to you one by one for you to put on the tree as well.

With Seven being Seven, he also declares that he has to put up the star and no one else can do it. He asks if he can get on Saeran shoulders but with no surprise gets a smack up the head.

So he climbs the tree and gets the star up. But just as he’s coming back down and is turning around to show off a prideful gleam, the tree comes collapsing on him.

“Gah! Dear brother~ Help me!”

After the tree is put back up, you all head to the kitchen to make cookies for a get together you plan to have with the RFA members.

However, you have to make a rule for the sugar loving twins: NO EATING THE COOKIES.

An even bigger mess is made by Seven squirting icing at you and Saeran. Saeran and Vanderwood is not impressed.

The cookies are kinda ugly, but not as horrendous as the gingerbread house you guys make afterwards.

Seven has this whole eccentric idea of make the gingerbread look like the honey buddha chip factor, while Saeran just wants to make it simple.

It takes a lot but you manage to convince Seven to wait on blowing up the Santa in the house. You have visions, to be frank, of it setting on fire or something with all the chaos in the bunker. You made a deal with Seven that it can go in the bedroom.

The reindeers go outside, and all though Saeran complains it’s tacky, you can see that he likes them.

Seven accidently breaks one however trying to sit on it.

After all the decorating and baking, you are all pretty tired. You guys snuggle up on the couch together, wrapping yourselves in a wool blanket, all the lights off except for the ones on the tree and just sit together, with hot chocolate, in silence. You feel something pat against your shoulder, and you look over to see Seven asleep for once. You look to the other side and see Saeran dozing off. You offer him the other shoulder, in which he takes with no arguments since he is absolutely, utterly exhausted.

The Christmas season stood as another reason for why you love these boys so much.

If you’re dating Saeyoung: While you’re sorting through the tinsel, he approaches you from behind, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Ho, ho, ho!” You look above your head to see mistletoe dangling. Turning around in his arms, you let out a snort before chuckling at Seven wearing a Santa’s hat and beard. “Will mommy kiss Santa Claus~” he slurs. You grin, pulling the beard down to reveal his lips in which you press yours against. The kiss was soft, sweet, gentle… and you taste the sugar cookies on his lips. “Did you eat some of those cookies I said we were saving?” You ask pulling back. Cue running around the house chasing your silly boyfriend.

If you’re dating Saeran: Saeran stood by the one window in the bunker where he could see somewhat of what was outside, a cup of hot chocolate in one hand while the other was in his pocket. You were too small compared to him to hold the mistletoe above his head, so you gently tapped his shoulder and asked him to hold it above you guys. He was confused at first but nethertheless, he complied. You grinned from ear to ear before saying, “We’re under the mistletoe! Now you have to kiss me.” Saeran was incredibly flustered at first, his face turning as bright as his hair. He had never heard of such a thing. But then he smirked, putting his hot chocolate on the window sill and wrapping one arm around your waist, the other around your upper back, and pulled you against him, his lips smashing against yours. It started rough but became gentler by the moment. Your lips moved together in perfect sync, pulling at each other desperately. You held on to each other, the warmth of your bodies giving each other comfort. When you two released from the kiss, you smiled and took his hand, taking him to the kitchen where you’d sneak him a cookie.

Bonus! If you’re dating Vanderwood: While Vanderwood was working with Seven to finish putting up the lights around the house though Vanderwood was completely against it, you were working to clean up some of the pines that had fallen from the tree so your hard working boyfriend did not have to do it later. He grinned when he entered the room seeing you cleaning. “You didn’t have to do that,” he says quickly hiding his smile, but you could tell he was. Vanderwood came in front of you and gently held your wrist, his thumb making small circles against the soft skin. “Hey. Seven gave me this,” Vanderwood started pulling out a piece of mistletoe. “Don’t know what I’m suppose to do with this shit.” You let out a soft giggle, booping his nose laughing more at how his face crinkled in displeasure. “Silly! You’re suppose to hold it above us so we can kiss.” He was a little skeptical at first, but was he gonna pass up an opportunity to kiss you? Absolutely not. He holds the mistletoe slightly above your head and gently cups the back of your head, pulling you in for a quick and sweet kiss. You smile, a blush crawling across your face. The rest of the pines on the ground were forgotten.

~~~

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