prompt: father’s day au where kris is the ultimate father of all; yixing is the mother; luhan, minseok and suho are the eldest hyungs, the others are determined in making daddy happy.

pairing: exo ot12

it is around twelve in the afternoon when yifan wakes up with a headache, the bright sun greeting him quite rudely through the wide gaps of the curtains. he really needs to remind yixing to change the curtains soon or else both of them are going to suffer having to wake up with the sun streaming down on their faces.

speaking of yixing, where is he?

the lack of warmth this early afternoon is making him feel quite unhap-

“daddy, daddy, daddy!”

yifan’s train of thoughts are disrupted when his youngest babies sehun, 5; tao, 6; and jongin, 5, come bursting in through the door. his heart almost jumps right out of his chest, because what if the door gets broken, how will he explain the kids’ actions to yixing.

the three little pigs don’t give yifan time to breathe even when yifan adjusts himself, untangling himself from the white sheets, to welcome the kids in his arms, enveloping their surprised father as tightly as they can in their tiny arms. sehun clings at yifan’s disheveled hair, biting his lips at the process, in hopes to reach the top of his father’s head; jongin decides to stick himself at yifan’s leg; and then there’s tao, rubbing himself against yifan’s left arm.

“daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy!”

yifan chuckles. “good morning, too. did my babies sleep well?”

sehun nods. “yes! yes, we did!”

“daddy, do you know what day it is today?” jongin asks this time. “daddy, daddy, daddy. do you know what day it is today?” he giggles childishly, and sehun and tao join in.

yifan chuckles. “hmm, is it children’s day?” he aims to tease.

sehun tugs on the strands of yifan’s hair. yifan yelps.

“daddy, daddy, daddy!” tao exclaims, clinging tightly. “you’re wrong! guess again, again, again, again!”

“is it father’s—ow, sehunnie—day?” yifan stops teasing because his scalp is beginning to hurt.

“yes, yes, yes, yes!”

the three little pigs cheer and hop off the bed, both of yifan’s hands in theirs. maybe waking up to this isn’t so bad, after all.

(but he still prefers if yixing is with him, too.)

so, yifan solves one of the mysteries when he finds his own wife, lovely yixing, wearing an adorable hello kitty apron at the kitchen. with him are minseok and kyungsoo, the two who are quite skilled in cooking as well.

(they get it from their mother, of course! yifan thinks smugly.)

“daddy’s here!” the three little pigs scream in excitement.

“happy father’s day, dad!” minseok, 11, greets him maturely, a knife in one hand. yifan sincerely grumbles his thank you with a side hug and a kiss on the forehead. “ew. dad, please. i’m not a kid anymore.”

“a worry for all the fathers out there,” yifan retorts, ruffling minseok’s hair.

“hey, dad,” says kyungsoo, 9, shyly as he approaches yifan. “uh, i found this really cool recipe online and i am going to make it with mom’s help. i hope you’ll like it.”

yifan grins affectionately, the back of kyungsoo’s hair and pulling him in a brief hug. “aw, thank you, kyungsoo. yes. dad will definitely love it. don’t cha worry!”

his cheeks reddening, kyungsoo exits with a satisfied smile plastered on his face.

“what do you have for me?”

the other kids—luhan, jongdae, suho, chanyeol, and baekhyun—are scattered around the living room. others are engaged in casual kids play, and the others, well, normal. the instant yifan emerges from the kitchen, all five immediately stop at whatever they’re doing.

“okay, one at a time!” yifan announces with a laugh.

luhan, 11, is first, because he’s the oldest. with a cheeky grin, he motions yifan to sit down and to wait while he gets something from his room. the doting youngest, sehun, sees his favorite hyung running across the hallway so he tags behind, too.

“i bet luhan hyung will give you one of his toys,” jongdae snickers.

luhan returns thirty seconds later with sehun tugging on the edge of his shirt, and like jongdae has predicted, luhan has his favorite soccer ball in hand, dirty and used. but yifan thinks it must have sort of a sentimental meaning, to have luhan choose the ball itself as a present.

“this is for you, dad,” luhan offers, nudging yifan on the arm. “it’s dirty but you can always clean it. just don’t make me clean it—just you. it’s important to me. sentimental, but yes, it’s for you. love you, dad.”

suho, 10, is next, and instead of anything materialistic, there’s a crumpled paper in his hand. jongdae comes up right behind him, a smug smile plastered across his face.

“it’s a letter,” suho explains, his eyes already tearing up.

“hyung, please,” jongdae, 9, rolls his eyes. “of course, it’s a letter. even sehun and jongin can see that.”

“jongdae,” yifan calls sternly, shaking his head in disapproval; jongdae only chuckles.

“okay, here goes nothing,” suho clears his throat. “dad, happy father’s day. thanks for loving mommy and the ten of us dearly. even though we disrupt your y times with our sudden antics late at night, we are not sorry-”

jongdae's chortles become louder, more suspicious, and it’s only then that suho realizes jongdae has changed his letter. infuriated, suho bursts into tears, his face scrunched up in pure derpiness, like jongdae would describe. yifan does his best to comfort, hugging him tightly and his hair, but it’s difficult when both sehun and jongdae are laughing at the crying suho.

“my letter is ruineeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed!” suho sobs his heart out, his voice muffled against daddy yifan’s sturdy chest, while yifan is unsuccessful at handling the kids, especially jongdae.

“okay, here’s mine.” jongdae hands yifan a paper.

yifan recognizes the drawing of himself, except for a few parts, most especially the fashion sense. yifan’s fashion taste is definitely top-class—jongdae please. at the bottom of the paper, although the drawing has touched the bottom roots of yifan’s heart, a slightly unwelcomed part surprises him.

“what is this,” yifan deadpans.

jongdae snorts. “ben ben! mom said ben ben is stupid in chinese.”

jongdae is lucky that yifan loves his kids too much to even hit them. yifan rolls his eyes instead.

yifan turns to the remaining two kids, baekhyun and chanyeol, who are both smiling as if they bear a secret. shuffling around, yifan makes sure the two babies in his arms, sehun and tao, are comfortable as he waits for the last two gifts.

chanyeol approaches first, his lips sprawled in a thin lip, his ears perk up, and then baekhyun follows, a greasy smile on his face. they both kiss yifan on the cheek—left for baek, right for yeol, and a “happy father’s day!”

yifan raises his eyebrows. “that’s all?”

the two nod discreetly.

oh, well. it’s better than nothing, anyway.

“so, daddy, what do you and mommy do every night?” sehun wants to know.

hearing this, yixing almost chokes on his food and shoots kris a what the did you just tell our baby look; yifan shakes his head, panic-stricken. on the other hand, the kids who knew (cue in jongdae) all explode in amused laughter, and the kids who don’t merely let their curiosity lead them.

yifan is dead tonight. yixing will make sure of it.

“where’s my gift?” yifan asks later when all the kids are in bed. the night has finally come, and the important day will be over in less than two hours. both yixing and yifan are snuggled up in bed.

“after that stunt you pulled today?” yixing huffs. “there’s no present for you, mister!”

“it’s father’s day!” yifan pouts, snaking his arm around yixing’s waist. “you’re supposed to let me off the hook and then give me my,” he wriggles his eyebrows, “present.”

“yo-”

“pft. you’re definitely not getting any tonight, daddy!”

both yifan and yixing jerk out of bed, taken aback at the sound that came from the door. they can’t make out the face, but they’re definitely certain it was jongdae, and they can already imagine the smug smile on that kid’s face.

jongdae is definitely dead tomorrow.

(nevertheless, yifan is still not getting any tonight. hehehehe.)

sort of in a rush but i really wanted to write it omg it i know ;~;