#twin sibling banter i crave

[jesncin]

freaky friday but Constantine twins pt 2: the suffering olympics

bonus:

"I'm already an asshole in my own life, there's no way Goldie can ruin anything back in my reality"

[shinidamachu]

I need some Inuyasha as a great father (more like DILF, amirite?) headcanons, can you help me out?

I'm here to serve!

• It isn’t until they’re happily married for at least one or two years that the possibility of children are brought up.

• At first, they took that time to relearn each other, enjoy their company and make the honeymoon phase last a little long. They did spend three years apart, after all. There’s so much time to make up for, so many catching up to do before they’d even think to throw a kid into the mix. Plus, being a modern woman, Kagome would know how to avoid pregnancy the best her new circumstances allowed and how important that time alone is for a newly-married couple.

• They never actually had the child talk because Kagome just assumed that’s where their relationship would naturally lead to, given her motherly tendencies and Inuyasha’s history of ultimately giving her everything she wants. For his part, Inuyasha knew she wanted to be a mother someday and he'd be lying if he said he never indulged the fantasy of fathering her children. However, he has serious trouble wrapping his mind around the idea that, in reality, Kagome would still be up for it if he were to be the father. He could never dare to ask of her more than she has already given him. Be that as it may, it was not a big deal because it was not a dealbreaker. Nothing was.

• But with time, Kagome would have noticed how good Inuyasha is with Hisui and the Mirsan twins. How his relationship with Shippo had developed from a sibling banter to a makeshift paternal relationship. How people like Shiori and Bunza would look up to him like he was some kind of movie hero. How every kid in the village seemed to adore him despite his grumpy demeanor.

• And Inuyasha would have noticed the way Kagome would look at him whenever he so much as interacted with a child, the way her smell would spike significantly.

• She, of course, was the one to make the first move, jumping him one night, after they had spend the whole day stuck with babysitting the Mirsan children and popping the question.

• Inuyasha was relutant. There was a part of him that was adamant on making her happy and even believed having babies would make him happy too. On the other hand, he was terrified. Terrified of how her body would react to childbirth, of if her spiritual powers would accept his demonic energy. But mostly, about what would happen once the baby was born. The last thing he wanted was for Kagome to go through everything his mother had to go through. Or for another kid to face the same prejudice he did. Besides, he grew up with no father figure whose steps he could follow. He didn’t know how to be a father.

• Kagome assures him that they won’t have a baby until they’re both ready and on the same page, that they have time and that Inuyasha will be a great father.

• Inuyasha believes her.

• Then it is him felling some type of way whenever he sees Kagome around kids. And something deep inside desperately wishes to find out what would their children look like, what would it be like to hold and take care of someone born from their love.

• Finally, he caves.

• Inuyasha wants a big family, considering how lonely his childhood was. Kagome finds it pivotal for their first-born to have a sibling, since she had Sota and their relationship was one of the most important things in her life. That’s why they’d have two children minimum, preferably a boy and a girl. However, giving how dangerous and uncomfortable childbirth can be, especially without the perks the modern era provides, I don’t think they’d have more than three.

• Naturally, Inuyasha relies on Miroku for advice and the latter is more helpful than not. Except for the times Inuyasha asks or says something that makes it way too easy for Miroku to mess with him. Like the time he told Inuyasha that if he doesn’t get Kagome whatever food she craves while pregnant, the baby will be born looking exactly like that food. And Inuyasha believed him.

• And if you thought Inuyasha was protective of Kagome before... oh boy! He’d be almost overbearing, but Kagome would see it as endearing. Most of the time. Sometimes, though, a woman has got to have her privacy. He also becomes more attentive, more gentle, sweeter.

• After their first child is born, Inuyasha gets a makeover of sorts. He’s always borrowing the Fire Rat to Kagome and the baby anyway, so he figured it’d be more practical to just pass the clothes on to them already and get something new for himself.

• It’s white.

• Inuyasha becomes taller, stronger. And often lets Kagome experiment with his hair with braids, top nots... and ponytails.

• Old Myoga is the first one to notice the resemblance. And it’s true. He’s the spitting image of Toga. Former enemies and allies often mistaken him for Toga and Kagome thinks the look on their (and Inuyasha’s) face is hilarious.

• Sesshoumaru does not care for it (I stole this one from @heavenin--hell).

• Inuyasha hates his human nights even more because now his vulnerability also means he might not be able to protect his family as he usually would (Together Changed by @goshinote and @lostinfantasyworlds inspired this one). Plus, the black hair and lack of dog ears confuses the baby, who cries and fusses for a good while until realizing it is, in fact, Inuyasha holding them (this one I saw in an adorable fanart I can’t find).

• But since he needs way less sleeping than humans and he spends the New Moons up anyway, Inuyasha gets a lot of quality time with their infant at night, which allows Kagome to actually get a good night sleep unless the baby is hungry.

• The Beads of Subjugation get dooled and chewed on. A lot.

• A little contest takes place between Kagome and Inuyasha about what the first word of their first child would be, with Kagome going for “dada” and Inuyasha going for “mama.”

• Kagome wins.

• Inuyasha’s fighting style changes. He still says some snarky remarks, but now it’s more to push his opponent‘s buttons down so they would get sloppy than anything else. After all, he has a child to think about and provide for now. He doesn’t have the luxury of gambling with his life anymore. He has a home to come back to and therefore won’t be taking any chances (credit to @born-for-eachother for this one).

• And so he becomes more lethal on the battle field. Pragmatic. Objective. Calculating. Decisive. Cold blooded. Much like... Sesshomaru.

• He had never been more offended on his life than the day Sango pointed this out to him.

• When the kids grow up a bit, Inuyasha and Kagome start to tell them bedtime stories, with the PG version of the story about how the met and defeated Naraku being their favorite.

• Kagome tries to be a reliable and calm narrator while Inuyasha exaggerates the events and the voices, almost always breaking objects of their house in the process.

• After hearing one too many times about the Beads of Subjugation, their child tries to “sit” Inuyasha. Of course it doesn’t work, but he still makes a big deal out of throwing himself on the ground every time they say the word just to hear them laugh.

• The first actual toy Inuyasha buys them is a ball, just like the one he had as a kid, at the same time accomplishing a childhood wish through them and ensuring that they would always have someone to play with.

• Kagome is more protective of their physical state while Inuyasha is more protective of their emotional one (see Fist Fight by @omgitscharlie)

• Inuyasha goes to Totosai and asks him to make a weapon out of one of his fangs to each of their children once they get old enough for it. Not necessarily a sword, just something of their choice and that better fits their personality.

• He would be a just father, doing his best to show no favoritism, treat his children equally and make sure no one felt overlooked or unloved.

• But truth be told, if one of their babies turn out to be a daughter, he would definitelly let her get away with almost anything, no matter how much of a gremlin she is. Daddy’s little girl would have him wrapped around her tiny fingers.

• Life never treated Inuyasha kindly. From a very young age, it was kill or be killed. It wouldn't be too far off for him to think the exact same thing could happen with his kids, therefore he tries to prepare them, to tough them up so they can take it.

• And I believe this sentiment would be significantly amplified with a son, because it would involve the whole “suck it up”, “men don’t cry” and “man of the house” aspect of it. The “it is your duty to protect your mother and sister when I’m gone” too, especially because he couldn’t protect Izayoi himself.

• It’s “tough love”, but it’s love nonetheless. And in the right dose, which I believe Inuyasha manages to nail, it can be very important for one’s development and growth.

• But it’s hard to imagine him being as tough with a daughter. Probably because he sees so much of Kagome on her that the mere idea of seeing her cry simply breaks him.

• Kagome would actually have to step in when it comes to disciplining and saying “no”, because he simply wouldn’t have it in him to do so.

There’s actually a really nice post by @keichanz I reblogged a while ago discussing precisely that, but I can’t find it to save my life (should I start to properly tag my reblogs? No, it’s a lot of work and I’m right not to).

Anyway, that’s all I got for now.

Peace out.

[ahtsumu]

omg may we hear your thoughts on what miya osamus type could be? only if youre free tho, dont wanna take up all your precious time, love ya 💖💖

chill— but not like the low-energy, lazy-day kind. he’d like someone someone who isn’t super uptight, doesn’t get mad that easily, isn’t all up-in-your-face. i think many people are a little like this, but osamu is highly aware of this quality/goes looking for it specifically

witty and sarcastic. this guy appears really mellow on the surface but he loves bantering with and teasing his friends. the mental stimulation is something he craves and if you can give it to him...

passionate about something. he finds a person’s intense adoration and commitment to something very attractive— and that sort of dedication is also a good sign for the future of a relationship

and ambitious and hardworking, to add on to that last point

sweet. osamu likes sweet people. kind. for some reason, i feel like he’s drawn to people who give off that “older sibling” vibe— the kind of person who takes others under their wing and befriends all people

a little bit of a homebody. as somewhat of a foil to his golden retriever of a twin, osamu’s a down-to-earth guy and pretty low-key. he’d like dating someone who doesn’t go clubbing every weekend or acts in a flashy way. one-on-one dates to a festival or concert is fine, but that lifestyle just isn’t for him

i think osamu is picky about who he dates, but he’s realistic— different from atsumu who is also picky but also very demanding (of course, atsumu would forget all about his “rules” the second he meets the one)

[dirt-cup-draco]

Fred Weasley x Reader- Games Part 2/2

@just-here-to-escape-from-reality: Pls make a part 2 of games where she finally tells him off 🙏🙏

Previously: 

Even if you always lost, you loved Fred’s games. No one else could own your heart like he did. The lows were nothing in comparison to the highs. Even if he couldn’t commit, even if this was all you’d ever have, even if you crashed every night, it would all be worth it.

You knew that by the time the sun rose, you would be ready to play the game all over again.

Your bag was heavy against your shoulder, back aching and eyes burning. You’d snuck out again the night before to see Fred and you were regretting it now. Not just in the way your eyelids fluttered closed with exhaustion every time there was a lull in your class, but in the way your chest ached and every breath seemed like a battle. 

Is he thinking about you? Maybe today is the day he’ll realize you’re the one he wants whether you’re behind closed doors or not. 

Stomping out any gleaming bit of hope that tried to rise, you made your way to the great hall with slow and hesitant steps. Fred had been stealing you away for months now. Every word from his lips felt like a promise until you asked those damned words that felt like ice when you got lost in his fire. What are we?

Nothing. The practical, semi-pessimistic part of you hissed. Freddie knows you’re always going to be around, so why not have some fun in between girlfriends? 

It felt more like the truth than the quiet girl muttering in the back of your brain that Fred Weasley might love you, but just not know it yet. You knew he had love for you, but never in the way you craved. Fred loved you because you were a constant. You were one of his closest friends and you could never stray long from those honey brown eyes and sinful smile. It was easy to love someone who gave you all the attention you could ever ask for and more, especially with a family as large as his and siblings so close in age. 

You never asked anything in return and whether he knew it or not he was taking advantage of your love and it was bringing you closer to rock bottom everyday.

“Where’ve you been? You look like hell,” Lee Jordan pointed out and you tried to comment playfully, engaging in your normal banter, but you couldn’t find it in you. More often than not these days you couldn’t manage more thank a weak smile and a huff of laughter that felt foreign to your ears. 

“Just been busy with school,” Had been your most relied upon excuse and it didn’t fail you now as Lee nodded, shoving a cauldron cake into his mouth and speaking over the crumbs that fell from his open mouth. 

“Snape, the bloody bastard, took away ten house points from me yesterday just because my essay was two inches too short in length,” 

“Not the first time you’ve been accused of being a bit too short in length,” Angelina giggled to Katie and with a holler from Lee and a snort from Fred, they had forgotten all about your plight. 

George snuck a glance at you, noticing that your lips moved into automatic smiles when your friends around you grew more rambunctious but there was no warmth to it. It was like watching a puppet dance around on stage at the behest of someone else. He had to suppress a shiver when you looked to him, that tired turning of lips trying their best to convince him they were playing their part. Your eyes were dulled in a way he couldn’t remember seeing before. Surely school couldn’t be the issue? 

Tucking into his meal after giving you the widest grin he could, hoping to share some warmth, George promised he would ask Fred before lights out if you were okay. 

--

“Whaddya mean something’s wrong with Y/N?” Fred asked, eyebrows knit together but the concern that George expected to see at his statement was vanished. Instead, his twin’s look read more like he found George to be off his rocker.

“She’s just not herself,” 

“I saw her last night, she seemed fine to me,” 

“You were with Lee and I last night,” 

Fred shrugged, tossing his pajama shirt on with nonchalance. “Saw her after,” 

George narrowed his eyes, climbing into his four poster and trying to see if anything on Fred’s face would give away what was going on. If Fred was sneaking out to see you, after already getting up to no good with Lee and himself, what could the two of you possibly be up to?

“Something’s got to be wrong then if she’s losing sleep over your ugly mug,” 

Fred laughed at the joke, and then, “Seriously Georgie, she’s fine. It’s just school getting on her nerves,” 

Sensing he would get no other answer from his brother; George pulled his curtains around him, turned over in bed, and promptly fell asleep despite the growing questions. 

--

George came to you the next day, hair rumpled and out of breath. “Merlin woman!” He exclaimed, sucking in a deep breath. “I’ve been calling your name since you left Potions. Where’re you going in such a rush? Been chasing you halfway ‘round the castle,” 

“Oh don’t be a drama queen Georgie, it only suits your brother,” You teased and he was glad to hear some of the warmth back in your voice but it still remained void from your eyes. You looked....hurt. Not like you were shielding a bruise or trying to go easy on a limp, but like someone had taken everything dear to you and shattered it on the ground as if it were glass. 

“Glad you brought him up,” George grinned, tossing his arm around your shoulder.  He missed the way your smile drooped. Why could he possibly want to talk to you about Fred? Did he know? And if so, what did he think you and Fred were?

Maybe he told George he likes you. Your heart jerked around uncomfortably.

George wouldn’t be coming to you with questions if he had answers. Reason put your sporadic heartbeat to rest. 

The boy with his arm around your shoulder steered you past the Great Hall and to the room of requirement. What could the boy need so badly that the room was now opening up to the two of you? You hesitated for a single step and then George was pulling you inside with a tug of your hand. 

The space was small, comfortable. The fireplace behind you crackled and warmed your back. The two plush seats in the center called your name. You looked skeptically at the redhaired boy. 

“What’s so concerning about Freddie that you’ve brought me here?” 

George looked bashful, pink crawling up his neck. You shuffled nervously on your feet. “Well, it’s more about you than about him but he said something last night that’s got me wondering.... Do like Fred, Y/N?” 

Your eyes bugged out, the air knocked from your chest. Not because George had figured it out, but because it had taken him so damn long. You let out an incredulous laugh, feet carrying you to one of the plush wingback chairs so that you could bring your knees to your chest as a form of protection. 

“Took you long enough,” 

George simply nodded, no gloating, no laughter, no teasing. You couldn’t help but grow more confused. 

“George why is this relevant-” 

“My next question-” He interrupted. “-is why you haven’t told him how you feel yet.” 

The breath that had been knocked from your chest was having a hard time coming back in and you felt light headed as you forced yourself to inhale, albeit shakily. How did you explain to George that your true love, the boy you would trade the world for, didn’t feel the same and it had been proven by his lack of commitment and attentiveness. 

“It’s a long story, we’ve been-” 

“Sneaking around Hogwarts?” George guessed and you sent him a nasty glare but the proud little smile on his face at pulling a genuine reaction from you had you smiling back and the air was suddenly circulating in your lungs again. 

“More or less, not stop interrupting or I fear I won’t let out all I need to,” 

Heading your warning, and feeling an uneasiness in his chest, George quieted. 

You revealed that after your kiss during a typical game of truth or dare, you had expected things to return to normal. You, with your feelings and hopes still intact for a someday with Fred. And him, not thinking anything of the kiss or hopefully thinking of a someday with you. You hadn’t been prepared for Fred to seek you out every chance he got to pull you into hidden spaces and snog you until your mind grew fuzzy and all worries vanished. Then, when you’d finally gained enough courage to ask what you two were, if the kisses meant anything, Fred had dodged a real answer and expected you to want what he wanted.

 But how could you be what he wanted when you weren’t sure if it was you that he wanted? You were a friend, a confidant, a body. You stumbled over your seemingly harsh analyzation. 

“I know he means well, he hasn’t done anything wrong,” You defended, wringing your hands together and it was only then that George had taken notice of the very obvious love bite on your neck. It had been covered well by your robes earlier but you’d been fidgeting in your seat the entire conversation. ���He cares about me but I don’t think he cares about me that way, I’m just easy access and he’s grown used to it,” 

George watched as the spark he’d seen not ten minutes before had sizzled out again and he finally had his answer. Fred was what was wrong with you. His idiot brother was using you, whether he saw it or not and you were being crushed by the weight of having the one you clearly more than liked but not having all of him. George felt guilt rise up and swirl with the fury in his gut. He wasn’t mad at his twin, but he was furious for you. You had been hollowed out  because Fred acted first and thought last and never had to deal with the consequences of it. 

“Y/N, you’re not-” George went to argue but his voice sounded pitiful even to his own ears, “He’s- I’m sure that he.... You know he cares,” 

Your eyes met George’s and you could see the turmoil lying behind his eyes. Melted chocolate as opposed to the honey you’d fallen for. He was much like Fred but when you looked in his eyes you saw someone who wore his heart on his sleeve and Fred couldn’t be further from that. 

“I know he does,” You sniffled, eyes glistening and George almost wished he could take back the blank look you’d been schooling for some odd days. He hated to see tears in your eyes. He hated knowing Fred had put them there and that he couldn’t make up for any of it. How did he fix his twin’s mistake? 

With a short nod and an affectionate squeeze of his arm, you left George puzzled and alone in the room of requirement. 

Fred wanted to see you again tonight.

--

You were sat in his lap, his hands running through your hair, but this time, both of you had your eyes on the stars. The nervousness bubbling in your chest was eased as Fred failed to make a move just yet. You were craving time spent with him that meant more than just easing his frustration or giving him a high. You wanted to be like this, comfortable and close, but content to do nothing. It made you feel more cared for than any kiss thus far. 

Fred was always careful in the way he held you and kissed you, knowing just what made you turn to mush in his hands, but he was clumsy with your heart and after your conversation with George you feared he had dropped it too many times. 

“Talked to Georgie last night...” Fred spoke into the night air, voice only a whisper but your heartrate spiked despite knowing that you and George had talked that evening and so Fred had to be alluding to a different conversation. 

“It’s a bit odd when you don’t talk so-” 

“Y/N/N” Fred interrupted gently, gaze soft as he made you look him in the eye. He was quiet longer than you expected. He was searching your features for something but all you could express was mild confusion. “He said there was something wrong, thought I would know. Y/N, what don’t I know?”

“Whaddya mean Freddie, I tell you everythi-” 

“Why are you lying?” Fred huffed, eyebrows now knit together in frustration, his hands pressing harder against your hips but not uncomfortably. “I-I can see it now. Where’d my happy girl go?” 

You bit down on your lip to stop from the whimper that wanted to force itself from your throat. You crawled out of Fred’s lap, immediately missing the warmth he provided. You wrung your hands together to distract from the sick feeling in your stomach. “That’s just it Freddie, ‘m not your girl,” 

“Y-you’re not?” He asked, face paler in the moonlight than you had ever seen it before. 

“I’m your best friend, I’m the person you trust most outside of Georgie, and I’m just another girl, another body. Like I told your brother... all I am is easy access,” 

Fred’s face had gone red as you continued to speak and the frown grew more persistent on his face until it was morphing into a sneer. You’d have seen it if your eyes weren’t downcast and blurred with the tears that were starting to fall. 

“You want parts of me Fred but you don’t want all of me and I can’t live that way anymore,” You choked out, hands slippery with your fallen tears. You looked up at the same time Fred bolted up, that angry look upon his face forcing you to wonder if you’d said something cruel in your admission. 

You opened your mouth to ask him- Well what had you wanted to ask him? It all seemed to disappear now as he ran from the astronomy tower. 

--

“Bloody hell!” George cussed as the door to his dorm was blown wide open, his counterpart stomping over the threshold with fury in his eyes. Fred’s hands were clenched tight, his jaw wired shut. George knew it was best to just wait for Fred to speak when these times came. He couldn’t help but feel the seed of worry that grew in his stomach when he remembered Fred and you had been together. 

“I cant believe she-!” Fred began but a strangled scream cut off the rest of his sentence as he tugged at his hair. “And that I-!” Another sentence lost to the sound of Fred kicking his trunk. 

Sooner than George thought, Fred was whirling on him, a finger suddenly pressed against his chest in accusation. “She told you how she felt dammit!”

“Who?” George asked and Fred threw his hands up in the air. 

“Y/N!” He snarled, back to pacing the common room. “She told you that she felt like... like... well-” 

“Easy access? Just another body? Like she was all yours and you could never be hers?” George supplied, laying back comfortably against his pillows as Fred took a seat beside him, deflated at the words that had riled him up so much. 

“How could she think that?” Fred choked out, eyes misty as he looked to his best friend for answers. “I-I, well, I love her,” 

George let out a grateful breath, one he’d been holding since he’d noticed your misery from across the table. “Because you idiot, you told her relationships were messy. Because you’ll hold her hand in the astronomy tower and make her feel like the most wanted girl in all of Hogwarts and then the next day she feels like the most invisible girl in Hogwarts. Because I know you better than you think and you didn’t realize until you stormed in here that you are irrevocably in love with Y/N Y/L/N. Now get your ass back to that tower and tell her yourself,” 

And Fred did just that, running like hell was on his heels. 

--

Your head was buried in your arms, forehead pressed tight against your knees as you tried to slow your breathing and force the sobs to stop. You’d told him how you felt, you’d told him you couldn’t do it anymore and he’d left without so much as a word. He must not want anything to do with you anymore.

The fresh wave of thoughts reduced you back to your sobs, your shoulders shaking. The force of your cries were so severe you didn’t hear the steps that were racing up the stairs. By the time you registered anyone was there, their arms were wrapped tight around you. 

You caught a flash of red in your peripheral. “George? Did Fred tell you to come?” 

“You daft girl, George told me to come,” Fred laughed through the few tears he’d begun to shed on the way to the tower. Never had he ever wanted to see one of his dearest friends look so vulnerable, yet you did and it was all because of him. Your gasping sobs as he’d come up the stairs had stopped him in his tracks for a moment and it sunk the stake in deeper that it was all because of him. 

You recoiled slightly at his words but couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. If the only reason he was here was because of George, why was his voice thicker than usual? Had Fred been crying? You took a chance to look at him and found a tear rolling down his cheek and over his freckles. Momentarily, you forgot the situation you were in and you brought your hand to Fred’s cheek. 

Concern burned in your eyes and Fred could feel his stomach doing flips. You’d been crying over him, you were crying over him, but once you saw he was in any distress you’d completely forgotten it. At least for a second it seemed, his shocked expression bringing you back to reality as you let your hand fall away uncertainly. 

“I- um- sorry...” You mumbled, going to stand. Fred finally saw the empty look George had told him of and it made his heart stop painfully. 

Fred didn’t let you get far before he was pulling you into a hug, a few more tears escaped past his eyelids and fell onto your hair as he brought you closer to him, head nuzzling against yours. “Merlin, no,” He choked out. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for. I didn’t realize until you said... well- I didn’t realize you felt so used and I didn’t realize everything I said and did confirmed every fear you had.”

You froze in Fred’s grasp, even your sniffles having gone away. 

“I don’t know a good way to say this,” Fred laughed weakly, hand pressed against the small of your back, his fingers twitching as he thought.

 “I love snogging you until your eyes glaze over and you turn to putty in my hands, which I think I’ve made a bit too obviuos. I love your messy hair whether I’ve just finished running my hands through it or you’ve just woken up and stumbled into the Great hall. I love how you stifle your giggles when one of us has said something mean to the other but you still can’t help but laugh once everyone else gets going. I love that you see the best in people and that even when I treated you the worst you still look at me like I’ve only spilled ink on your paper instead of broken your heart,” 

“Freddie-” You began but the boy shushed you and he took a second to fix you with pleading eyes. He needed to say this. 

“I love that I can trust you just as much as I trust George, just as much as I trust Lee. I love that you always listen to me and you notice when something is wrong before I do. I love that you are patient with me even when I can be a complete arse, and I love that even now you are listening to me because I’ve asked you to. You should be kicking me and running in the opposite direction after all I’ve done but you’re still here and I love you for it.” 

“But we’re just friends,” You finished for him, a rueful smile on your lips as you stared down at your feet. His arms were still warm around you but they tensed. 

“Is that what you want?” 

Your head snapped to his. The fragile wavering in his voice had stopped you cold. Since this started he had never asked what you wanted, at least emotionally, and now here he was asking you what you’d been begging internally to hear since the first time you’d kissed. 

“W-well what do you want?” You mimicked to him. You had put your heart on the line too many times now and it was his turn. 

“You,” He said simply, hand warm against your cheek as he stroked the skin on your cheekbone. The honey brown of his eyes shined brighter in the moonlight and you found for the first time you could see the truth in his eyes. “I want you to be mine,” 

“Then you’ve got me,” 

And this time when Fred Weasley, you felt a promise instead of a heartbreak.

The game was over and both of you had won.

Tag List: @stuckysdaughter @thehumanistsdiary @gaycatlord-stuff

Those who might be interested:  @hogwarts-is-my-h0me @emcchi @elf-punk @mozz-are-lla @alyssa-lupin-weasley-salvatore

[cynoirsure]

coconut pancakes | cyj

pairing — little brother!yeonjun & older sis!reader

word count — 2,148

genre — fluff

summary — your brother comes to stay during your last few weeks of break. did you forget to mention he was famous and part of the rookie group tomorrow x together? and he’s the idiot who threw out his back too.

warnings/tags — some minor language, but nonetheless this is all just pure sibling love!

a/n — originally this was gonna be part of the rush!beta tau universe and this was gonna be choi sib fluff :] but i decided to not do it!! i love yeonjun like a little brother although hes a month older than me, and also the reader and yeonjun are irish twins! so they’re born within a year of each other but they’re not twins, hence the reason why they’re so close! enjoy some fluff!! 

also, there’s some lingo in here that i totally forgot to edit to say what they were, but konbini is slang for the convenience store and TLJ is just tous les jours, which is a bakery hehe~

---

The last days of your first summer vacation of university were upon you. 

You had spent a majority of your time either in summer classes (which was seriously, your worst decision ever. It might have been to get the classes you do during the fall and spring semester out of the way, but sitting in a film class from 7 to 10 pm every night? Not only was it hard keeping awake in class every night, but now you can’t watch a movie without analyzing the camera angles and if the music was diegetic or non-diegetic) or working, and while you were happy you had a stable job with a good pay, this meant that you were rarely ever home. The restaurant that you were working at was only open for dinner service, and you as a server worked until midnight and didn’t get home until 1 am. 

Thankfully enough, the summer classes had ended. You had two weeks before you had to pack up everything and move back into your dorms for 15 weeks and repeat the whole process over again, and you were going to spend every moment that you weren’t working catching up on the sleep that film class robbed of you.

Or at least, that’s what you thought.

See, your younger brother was an idol. An idol from the group Tomorrow X Together, who had been real popular in recent months for being a popular rookie group. You knew they were two awards in and you knew something in your gut was telling you that the end of the year awards show might either make or break them personally. 

Alas, their schedules had been stopped for a while. Their leader had an infection in his eye and the eldest member had thrown out his back out or something.

Your brother had been the one to throw out his back, by the way. 

Your parents thought it would be best for you to have Yeonjun stay over in your apartment, which was near your university in Seoul. You didn’t mind, but you felt a little bad because you were rarely home and that meant Yeonjun was lonely for most days.

On days you were home though, you tried to spend as much time as you can with him. The two of you would usually lounge around on the couch and talk about what the other missed while they were away, things that couldn’t be said in your family group chat. Yeonjun filled you in with all his wild stories from when he was in America with his band mates, and you filled him in with all your stories from your first year in college. It was something that you dearly missed, and since you two were close in age, you had a lot of similarities that weren’t just physically obvious.

The only difference between you two was that he was an early bird and you were a night owl. Yeonjun was used to the schedules waking him up at the hours that you would call it a night. The two of you had attempted to adjust your sleep schedules for the other, but he had also only been over for a few days and you were still getting used to sleeping earlier to adjust.

“Noona… I’m hungry.”

Yeonjun sleepily walked into your room, ruffling his hair. You were knocked out asleep, given the fact that you had only gone to sleep an hour or two prior to your younger brother coming into your room. He made his way to lay on top of you, earning a groan from under the bedsheets. You reached over to hit him with one of the Apeach plushes on your bed, the weight on your bed dipping and the younger boy clinging onto you.

“Why can’t you just cook for yourself? You keep saying in your lives that you’re the best cook but honestly, I’m starting to doubt it.” You mumbled sleepily, Yeonjun whining above you. 

“Because noona, you don’t even have spaghetti. I can’t make spaghetti olio e aglio without spaghetti noodles…” Yeonjun nudged you softly, the pout that’s usually in his voice coming out more. “Plus, it’s like, 8:30. You need a regular eating schedule too, noona.” Yeonjun managed to pull you upright, letting you sit up on your own. You grabbed onto your pillow, blindly patting for your glasses before unfolding them and putting them on. Yeonjun had moved off your bed and opened your curtains, the bright light that’s usually hidden by your no-show curtains feeling like the artificial light after watching a movie in class. 

“That can’t be the only reason, you and I both know that there’s a konbini and a TLJ across the street from here, you could’ve easily just bought yourself some like. Cake or something, I don’t know what you were craving.” You felt the weight dip down on the other side of the bed, and a little huff. 

“... I missed noona’s cooking.” He whispered, leaning onto your shoulder. You stopped fiddling with the bedsheet, before sighing. You shifted slightly, Yeonjun moving off of you and both of you exiting the bedroom to go into the kitchen.

You opened your pantry, humming under your breath as you contemplated what to make for both of you for that morning. Your mind immediately went to pancakes, thinking about an early memory you both had shared.

“Yeonjunie, can you pull out the coconut milk from the fridge? Oh, and some butter and eggs…” You were busy yourself reaching for the dry ingredients from the fridge, Yeonjun’s smile splitting into a grin when he realized what you were making for him. He grabbed the refrigerated ingredients and some bowls for you, a small thank you in order as you began to measure everything. 

“Coconut pancakes? How’d you know I was craving those specifically?” Yeonjun asked, grabbing a cup from the cabinet next to your head. He began to pour himself some of the mango juice in your fridge, following you around the kitchen like a baby duckling.

“It’s your favorite. You might be famous and all now, but that doesn’t mean your taste buds have switched up on me, right?” You shooed Yeonjun out of the kitchen, the younger one already knowing that you couldn’t do anything without music playing in the background. He walked over to your speaker system, plugging in his phone and scrolling for music. After a few beats of silence, Post Malone and Swae Lee’s Sunflower started playing on the stereo, a smile creeping up on your own face when you heard the song choice.

“I approve of this.” You laughed at the way that Yeonjun wiggled along to the song, your brother grabbing a glass of juice from the refrigerator and looking out of the window. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this much light in my apartment either.” You noted, combining the dry ingredients into the wet. Yeonjun only laughed at your revelation, shaking his head. 

“Because you wake up so late, noona. I thought you died when I woke up the first day here.” Yeonjun joked with no harm, but nonetheless a gasp came from you of fake offense. 

“Bitch, I thought you died when they sent out the MGMA announcement that you weren’t performing. Did you throw it back too hard? Is that why your back hurts?” You teased, the playful banter familiar to you two. Yeonjun only laughed at your worry, shaking his head.

“I didn’t know you kept up with us that heavily, noona.” You froze, the batter of the pancake that you were beginning to flip over sizzling due to the uncooked side sliding over to the heat of the pan. You continued to flip the pancake in order to prevent further damage, rolling your eyes.

“Alright, you caught me red handed. I have Twitter notifications on for you guys… And I tune into all your V Lives too.” You confessed, a grin spreading on Yeonjun’s face. He set down his glass on the kitchen island where he’d start to clear up some of the mess of papers from your classes, stacking them in a corner before sneaking up behind you and hugging you from behind. You almost screeched, thwacking his hand gently with the rubber spatula you were using to cook the pancakes. 

“Why don’t you just be affectionate with your brother like a normal sister?” Yeonjun pulled away, soothing the slap on his hand. He pulled the placemats from the drawer, placing them down and searching for the plates he had washed last night so you could put the pancakes on them after cooking them. “Hyuka’s sisters always text him, it’s cute.” 

“Because I forget the family chat exists until you text us.” Your reply comes with a soft laugh. You place half of the pancakes on your plate and the rest on his plate, grabbing the whipped cream from the fridge and putting dollops of it on top of the stacks of pancakes you had just made. “It’s not intentional, but sometimes I’m so busy that I forget to look at my phone… The only time I look is when you post something or if you send pictures to our group. And then I realize it’s too late to text you…” You frown, picking up the plates. Yeonjun reaches for one of the plates you’re carrying, humming along to the music playing. 

“You shouldn’t let that stop you, noona. Besides, we’re probably still in rehearsal by the time you’re done doing your school stuff.” Yeonjun smiled at you, nudging your shoulder as you round the table to sit next to him. You purse your lips, thinking over what your younger brother just said. “Plus, you make it seem like I’d be too tired to talk to you. Which, I never am, since we’re so close without being twins.” Yeonjun and you said grace before cutting into your pancakes, giving you time to let everything sink in. You stopped mid-chew, tears brimming at your eyes. 

“Noona? Are you okay?” Yeonjun spun your bar chair around as well as his own, squishing your cheeks. You leaned forward and gave him a tight hug, a squeak coming from him before he laughed and hugged you back. 

“I’m glad you’re my little brother, Yeonjunie. I would give you the world if it guaranteed us as siblings.” You smiled at him, Yeonjun only laughing as he rubbed your back. Sure, you weren’t the perfect older sibling, but Yeonjun knowing that you’re doing so many little things to contribute towards the success of their group was just enough for him. You decided it was a good idea to keep the conversation light again, so you hummed a note before you asked your next question.

“Are the babies treating you well?” You pulled back and continued to eat your pancakes. The mention of his younger members made Yeonjun groan, causing you to laugh. 

“I swear they’re such bullies to me, noona. You watch the lives too right? I’m BULLIED by my members every time I invite them to play games with me!” The pout in his voice was enough to make you laugh, shaking your head. 

“This is why they call you the fake maknae, Yeonjunie. You allow yourself to get bullied by the other members…” Yeonjun punched your arm lightly, grinning.

“That’s why I love staying with you, because you don’t know it but you baby me. I don’t have any responsibilities when I’m here.” He grinned. You sighed, rolling your eyes as you swallowed more of the pancakes. 

“Because you threw it back too hard. I’m supposed to look over you, I’m not a shitty sib, Yeonjunie. And because you said you don’t have responsibilities here, I’m making you wash the dishes.” You heard a whine from him, the two of you finishing up your pancakes while Jeremy Zucker played in the background. 

The dishes ended up being a partner deal, and after breakfast you two decided to go to the supermarket to pick up some more things before you headed off to work. The car ride to the supermarket was filled with music, the two of you singing obnoxiously loud to Fancy (no matter how annoying you thought the song was), as well as peppered with Yeonjun’s terrible dad jokes. (“you need to stop hanging out with Seokjin oppa. He’s tainting your already bad dad jokes.” “that’s not very nice of you”)

“Noona?” Yeonjun called your name as you were putting away the yogurt in the refrigerator, him putting the spaghetti away in the pantry. You closed the refrigerator, raising an eyebrow at your younger brother. 

“What’s up?” You saw a smile spread across his face as the two of you made eye contact, his head bobbing. 

“Nothing, I just wanted to say you’re the best, but I’m pretty sure you already know that.”

[cutiesaeran]

To Create a Home

Hello! This is a prize fic from my giveaway!! It’s taken me way too long to write these but life just doesn’t like to cooperate. This is for @lamalasercorn - hope you like!

Rating: General

Pairing: 707 x Reader/MC

Finals week: the week from hell. It’s been awhile since he was in school, but Saeyoung remembers clearly how terribly stressful it was. Not that he has any real idea how it will go for you, since you majored in architecture while his major was… classified, but he still plans to do his best to help you. Right now that means he stays out of your way except when called or when he delivers you home-cooked meals (by Saeran, not himself - somehow his brother manages to actually be able to cook whereas Saeyoung can’t do anything above microwave meals). He’ll stay a few moments to rub your shoulders or whisper words of encouragement but ultimately he’ll leave you be, knowing how important it is that you get your work done.

But it’s been two days since you last slept, as far as he knows, and he plans to force you to sleep one way or the other. He knows what it’s like all too well to go extended periods of time without giving yourself a break and he does not want to watch you go through it.

Tonight Saeran cooked up some sort of chicken he’d found online and though he’d grumbled about always being the one to do all the work, he’d shoved Saeyoung your plate with the mumbled words of “make sure MC eats, okay?” Despite how much he tries to convince both of you otherwise, Saeran does have a kind heart underneath that prickly exterior and he cares just as much about your wellbeing as Saeyoung does.

Knocking softly on the door that leads into the workroom, Saeyoung enters and watches you for a moment as you draw on your tablet, no doubt with autocad pulled up as you design your final project for your academic career. You’re so lovely, from how your hair sits to the way you’re biting your lip down to your toes dangling on the floor. His heart swells and he grins widely; he’s so proud of you, of all you’ve accomplished.

“Hey, babe,” he says quietly, walking in and setting a plate on the table next to you. “Saeran tried something new tonight.” He places his own plate next to it and sits; he hasn’t eating with you the past few days and he honestly misses just being in your presence. You’re always so worried that you’re being annoying when you talk about your ideas for buildings or gush about Le Corbusier, but he’s never once felt anything other than awe when he listens. He admires you so much.

“Thanks,” you respond, distracted. He leans over just enough to catch a glimpse of what you’re doing on the tablet but it’s all foreign to him, a language he understands about as well as you understand binary; which is to say, not at all. Sighing, he pokes at his own food and considers how to broach the subject of sleep. Obviously you’re your own person and he doesn’t really have any true ability to tell you what to do; as always, your autonomy is more important than anything he thinks you should do.

Finally you set down the tablet with a heavy sigh, switching it out for the plate. “I’m sure if Saeran cooked it, it’ll be delicious.”

Pouting, Saeyoung looks at you with wide eyes. “Are you saying anything I cook isn’t delicious?”

You laugh which makes him smile; success. “I love you, but you know you’re a terrible cook.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he readily agrees, grinning at you lopsidedly. “Even gods have to have a weakness, and cooking is mine.” This earns another laugh from you and he feels that familiar warmth rising up inside of him like the tide at sunset; your laugh is like music to him.

Finally the two of you start eating and exchange comments about how good the meal is - because Saeran really is a fantastic cook - falling into your usual easygoing banter. He teases, you tease back, he turns everything into a show of dramatics (just to make you laugh - which you do) while you groan and tell him to act his age despite how wide your grin is. It’s almost easy for Saeyoung to forget what he’s really doing with you right now, the ultimate goal he has to get you to rest.

Almost, but not quite

“Babe,” he starts out when you’re finishing off the last bits of your food, “when was the last time you slept?”

You wave your hand at him dismissively and he frowns, anticipating that he won’t like what’s coming next. “I’ve caught a few hours here and there when I can. I have to get this done.”

“You also have to take care of yourself,” he replies softly, reaching out to run a hand down your arm. “Take a break, get some actual sleep. You’ll work better when you do.”

“You’re one to talk,” you snort, rolling your eyes. He cringes, but honestly, your answer doesn’t come as a surprise to him. This is definitely a situation of the pot calling the kettle black, but he doesn’t care.

Turning in his chair to face you, he sighs and grabs both of your hands, stopping you from eating for a minute. “I know. Which means I know just how shitty it is. I don’t want that for you. This project is important, right?” You nod slowly, confirming that your ability to graduate rests on it and he squeezes your hands. “Then you need to be at your best for it. Please, stop and get at least six hours, okay? That’s all I ask. Six hours and I’ll leave you alone.”

There’s silence while you stare at him and then glance at your tablet and he can see the wheels turning in your mind. “If I can do anything to help you finish it, let me know. I will do anything,” he tacks on, almost pleadingly. Your eyes shift back and forth a few times before you slump forward, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Some sleep would be nice,” you admit quietly and he lets go of your hands to wrap his arms around you.

“Then let’s go get some sleep together,” Saeyoung whispers, rubbing your back. “I’ll set an alarm for tonight and then we can get back to work.”

“We?” you ask, sitting up and raising an eyebrow at him.

Grinning, Saeyoung nods and stands, pulling you up with him. “We,” he confirms. “Whatever you need me to do, I will do it.”

–

It’s three months after your graduation and Saeyoung’s pouring over his plans once more before approaching you. You’ve been hard at work perfecting your portfolio and considering what you’d like to do in the future and he’s been doing his best to support you. It’s no secret that Saeyoung wants to open a toy store to sell robots he creates and that he’d love for both you and Saeran to help him out, but he’s never pressed for a decision from you. The thing he craves the most in the world is for you to be happy and if that means that you don’t work with him, so be it. He’ll be there for you no matter what you decide.

That doesn’t mean he’s above asking for your help with the planning of the house he hopes to build so the three of you can move out of the bunker and live normal lives. Or, well, as normal lives as two ex-hackers and one architect/party planner can.

The kitchen table has become a study station again as you work with Saeran on some of his home-study materials he’s picked up to try to make up for the lack of education in his life. Saeyoung allows himself a minute to stand in the doorway, leaning against the frame and just taking in the sight of his love and his sibling quietly pouring over books together, him doing what he can on his own and you only helping when needed. Despite your rather unfortunate introductions, the two of you get on rather harmoniously and Saeyoung thanks God every morning and night for that blessing.

Twin sense activates as Saeran glances up to see Saeyoung watching and rolls his eyes, sitting back in his chair. Crossing his arms over his chest, he raises one pierced eyebrow. “Did you need something?”

Saeyoung laughs and pushes himself upright, finally entering the kitchen and making his way around the table to you. “Just wanted to borrow the love of my life for a while, if that’s okay, brother dearest~” he says in a sing-song voice, leaning down to place a kiss on your cheek. Saeran huffs and stands, grumbling as he walks away but Saeyoung knows that deep down he really doesn’t mind. Saeran wouldn’t be Saeran if he didn’t give him a hard time.

Moving to stand fully behind you, Saeyoung hoops his arms around your neck and drops his chin to rest on your shoulders, swinging the two of you back and forth in a slow and steady rhythm. Laughing softly, you let him, swaying along and letting your head rest against his. His heart feels so full in this moment that he almost forgets why he’s here.

Almost, but not quite.

He drops the rolled up papers on the table in front of you and presses his lips to your cheek once more before pulling away to sit in the chair Saeran vacated, grinning at you proudly. As you reach out and slowly unravel the papers before you his smile falters; he’s proud of his work, yes, but he’s also well aware that he is not the one out of the two of you who knows how a house should go together. There’s likely a lot that needs fixed, that will need changed for it to be a viable structure, but that’s why he’s brought it to you. He hopes that you’ll help him.

Sucking in a breath, you carefully look over the top sheet which shows a semi-detailed plan of the first floor of a house complete with attached garage and toy store out front. He’s placed the kitchen, floor room (because even though he cares little for tradition, you do and he wants to respect you), laundry room, dining room and living room along with a bathroom and a pantry here. He waits with bated breath as you move on to the next sheet - the second floor - that shows four bedrooms and what appears to be a study/office along with a master bathroom and smaller washroom.

The third sheet is smaller, a second floor to the garage that details a workshop for him. Simple enough. But the fourth sheet… the fourth sheet is what makes you blink in surprise and him suck in a breath.

On the third floor of the house, Saeyoung’s designed an entirely separate apartment. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, eat-in kitchen, living area, laundry room. A place for Saeran to call his own while still being near. There’s a door to the outside on the front that leads to a set of stairs to the ground. In the back is a small balcony and another set of stairs, this one also making a stop at the second floor of the main house in case anyone wants to go between the two.

Saeyoung feels like he might pass out by the time you finally turn to him. “You made this?” you ask softly, eyes searching his face. He nods but doesn’t say anything, completely unprepared for when you pull him into a hug. “It’s amazing. It needs some modifications and I might have to shift a few things, but I can make it happen.”

“Ahh, you’re the best, babe,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing. “Is it something you like, though?” As always, his primary concern is whether or not you would be happy with it, because he can live with things changing.

You nod enthusiastically, a glint of excitement in your eyes. “Yes! I love it. Have you told Saeran, yet?”

“Yes… and no.” Scratching at the side of his face, Saeyoung laughs softly. “He knows I was thinking of building him an apartment but he hasn’t seen it yet. I didn’t honestly expect him to leave…?”

With a grin, you snap up your phone and shoot him a text. Saeran reenters the kitchen so fast that Saeyoung raises his eyebrows, moderately jealous. Saeran never responds that quickly to him… but now is hardly the time for this. You gesture at the plans with a wide grin on your face and Saeran saunters over, eyes taking in the pictures in front of him with almost a bored expression on his face. One hand toying with his lip piercings, Saeran stays silent for a while before shrugging and saying, “looks cool.”

“That’s it?” Saeyoung blurts out, having expected something, anything more than just a two word reaction. “Nothing else to say?”

Saeran shrugs again. “I’ll live there.” Then he turns and leaves again.

Saeyoung looks at you and you look at him and you both burst into laughter. “Shut up, idiots!” calls Saeran from down the hallway which only causes the both of you to laugh even harder.

When the laughter dies down, you rest your head on his shoulder and he slings an arm around yours, tugging you a little closer into his side. “Give me a couple of weeks and I’ll get the plans drawn up,” you say and he kisses your forehead.

“I’ll wait as long as it takes, and then we can get started.”

—–

One thing Saeyoung didn’t account for was the fact that out of the three of you, no one really had the skill to actually build what he had designed.

The plans are fixed and the new property bought, so all that’s left is to purchase the materials and pay the workers. But when you bring up the list of contractors you’ve heard good things about, Saeyoung waffles for a moment.

“I thought we could build this together?” he says weakly, feeling a small portion of his dream tear off and float away into the wind. There’s no fight in his voice because he knows it’s not possible, not if you’ve already looked into hiring people. Just like him, you like to do things with your own two hands when it’s an option. It’s one of the many things he loves about you.

You sigh and place a hand on top of his, wrapping your fingers around his palm and squeezing. “Not with all of the extra things we’ve both put in as things we want,” you say kindly. He knows you’re letting him down as gently as you can and he appreciates it. “If we’d chosen a simpler design, maybe. But since when have we ever done things the simple way?”

That drags a chuckle out of Saeyoung and he nods, placing his other hand on top of yours now. “That’s true, I guess. Okay. Let’s choose our fighters!”

It’s a little more pricey than Saeyoung expects, but he’s put enough in savings in anticipation for this to cover it. Saeran insists on chipping in with some of the money he’s made between working in the art store and helping design/paint sets for Zen’s musicals (“If I’m to have my own place here, shouldn’t I pay for it too?”) and then spends a lot of his free time planning how to decorate a place that’s truly his and his alone. Saeyoung tries to throw in some ideas but they’re mostly shot down - unsurprising, though disappointing - and he finds himself incredibly curious as to how the apartment is going to turn out. Saeran’s come into himself a lot since he was rescued and is constantly surprising Saeyoung; re-bleaching his hair, getting all those piercings, returning to a punk-ish style of dress, Zen…

It doesn’t matter, as long as he’s happy and safe, Saeyoung will support him no matter what. Even when Saeran says he’s seriously considering getting a pet snake.

Okay then.

Saeyoung takes on the odd hacking job to make sure that he’s still bringing in money while everything is being built but he spends a lot of his free time working on designs for the robots he hopes to sell. Currently he’s working to improve the programming of the original robot dog - no fire this time - that he’d built so long ago as well as Meowy. It’s a challenge, figuring out how to make them more kid-friendly while still keeping them ahead of everything else on the market. Still, it’s a challenge he welcomes. Saeran offers his input occasionally, usually as an off-handed comment as he passes by and sees Saeyoung struggling.

Sometimes it feels like Saeyoung is working two jobs with how much time and energy the two tasks consume, and it certainly doesn’t help that hacking often still requires him to be awake at odd hours. You find him asleep at his computer or at his desk with a screwdriver still in hand more and more often, ushering him to bed even as he meekly protests. It’s wearing on him and you.

You try to convince him that he doesn’t need to have everything set in stone before the house is done; it’s not a requirement for the store to have its grand opening immediately after you move in.

“I know,” he says, scrubbing a hand tiredly through his hair and looking at you with exhaustion etched into his features. There are dark bags under his eyes and all he wants to do is kiss you and go to bed, in that order. “But I want to work on them. They’re reminding me that I won’t always be so dirty, that someday I won’t be a cockroach anymore.” He needs that reminder a lot, especially when his depression creeps up in the middle of the night after you’re asleep. It’s easy to fall into the black hole of believing he’s worthless and never going to amount to anything, that he’ll never be good enough for you, so whenever he feels himself going down that path, he starts to build something. It’s almost like the old days, and sometimes it’s almost enough to make him forget everything he’s failed at.

Almost, but not quite.

You sigh and pull him into a hug. “I love you. Just… don’t work yourself to death, please.”

“I won’t.” Saeyoung’s arms wrap around you too and for a moment the world is reduced to just the two of you, holding each other. “We have to face the future together, right?”

“Yes,” you agree, laughing softly. “We do.”

~~~~

Roughly eight months after the contractors were first contacted Saeyoung stands before the completed house with his arm around both you and Saeran. It looks… normal, something he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to achieve and yet here it is, a normal house (at least, on the outside) in front of him with a garage and a yard. It’s feels almost surreal, like it can’t quite be reality and that if he pinches himself he’ll wake up, disappointed and alone, still under the agency’s thumb with Vanderwood breathing down his neck.

Almost, but not quite.

“Yippee!” he yells suddenly, dropping his arms and bolting toward the house without a thought of what either your or Saeran are thinking. His heart is pounding in his ears and he’s filled with such a rush of excitement that it feels like he might burst from it. Of course he’s seen the inside before, he’s stopped by to answer questions and to direct the workers as needed, but this time feels different because he’s actually here to stay. To live here, with you.

The first stop on the new-home tour is his store. Saeyoung opens the door carefully and steps inside, biting his lip as he looks around. It’s all sleek and grey, modern, fit for a shop that sells top-of-the-line robotic toys for all ages. He runs his fingers over the shelves, the glass cases, the counter at the front. It’s real and he finds himself taking off his glasses to wipe at his eyes with the back of his hand. Another dream has come true, another thing he doesn’t deserve but somehow managed to get anyway.

He doesn’t hear when you enter, too distracted with the images in his mind of his creations lining the walls, of kids and adults alike coming in and finding enjoyment in what they find. When your arms slide around his waist he jumps a little in surprise but quickly places his hands on top of yours.

“What do you think?” he asks tentatively. You’ve seen the plans and you had your input on the rest of the place but this, this is his baby. Viewing a building on a blueprint is different from seeing it before you, and he finds himself desperate for your approval.

“It’s perfect,” you answer, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Saeyoung grins and turns around, chasing that kiss with one of his own, his chapped lips moving softly against yours. For a moment there’s only the sound of your soft breathing, the rustle of clothing and his own heartbeat.

Then the sound of an engine pulling into the driveway interrupts you and he pulls back, cocking his head to the side and huffing out laughter when he hears Saeran’s voice talking in that animated way he does only with you and Zen.

“Not even here for an hour before his boyfriend is over,” Saeyoung says with fake exasperation, shaking his head. “Well, at least they have their own soundproofed floor this time.”

You laugh, playfully shoving at him. “Saeyoung, you encouraged that relationship. It’s your fault Zen’s over all the time.”

His smile morphs into a grin and he laughs, stepping back to give you a flourished bow. “Yes, thank you for acknowledging my amazing ability to promote healthy relationships~”

“God, you’re incorrigible.” Waving a hand at him in amusement, you turn on your heel to head toward the door connecting the shop to the house. “I want to go see the rest now.”

He jogs behind you, taking your hand as you walk up the steps to the first floor of the house, entering the small room that also holds one of the doors from the outside. Nothing special in and of itself, the wall is lined with a few hooks for coats and some cubbies for shoes, hats or whatever else you two decide should go in them. The next room is the kitchen, and Saeyoung jumps through in front of you, turning around to face you and grabbing your wrists.

“First on our tour is the immaculate kitchen of the Choi household, filled with everything you could possibly need for your culinary desires~” He grins widely, eyes never leaving your face. The chance of him running into something from not looking is not enough to draw his gaze away; he could look at you all day and never grow tired of it. The floor is a dark colored wood, the walls a soft creme color that contrasts the dark brown cabinets and grey appliances. He can’t resist dropping a wrist for a moment to reach out and touch the beautiful ivory marble countertop, the smoothness of it satisfying to touch.

The dining room is connected via the open floor plan and on the other side of it lies the living area, a large, plush sectional inviting. The wooden floor continues in both of these rooms, the dining room table and chairs dark brown with white accents.

The floor room is separated from the kitchen and dining room by a single large archway. Tears prick at your eyes and Saeyoung notices, pausing a moment to reach up and gently wipe them away. “Still a little more to go,” he says softly, pulling you along to the living room to show you the laundry room and, beyond that, the bathroom.

Upstairs lies the bedrooms, study and master bathroom and he takes you through each one, slowly. The study is filled with bookshelves, a desk and a few plush chairs; he’s already started lining the shelves with some of your books. He watches your face eagerly as you continue, thrilled to see the happiness taking residence there. When you arrive in the master bedroom he directs you over to the bed and pulls you down to lie next to him, wrapping his arms around you.

“Welcome home, babe,” he whispers in your ear. He feels like the luckiest man in the world right now; here he is, about to start living a normal life in the house built for both of you, with you. Soon he’ll be able to open his own business, a legal one where he doesn’t hurt anyone, only makes them happy. “We finally made it.”

You sigh and close your eyes, smiling when he softly kisses both your eyelids. “Yes. We did.”