Insatiable You

Insatiable you

Pairing: Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 5.1k | warnings: smut, piv, mentions of death and grief

Summary: Eris’s sudden disappearance when you saw him last has left you in a foul mood for weeks. Unwilling to admit to the source of them, they aren’t as one sided as your mate wants you to think they are.

Author’s note: this is part two to It’s just to satiate the bond and is the beginnings of my gingerfucker series. Happy reading and happy belated gingerfucker birthday to all who celebrate

The bond pulled tight in your chest, a string taut, the other end clear: come here.

Eris Vanserra had another thing coming if he were to believe you were at his beck and call, mate or not. It had been a month since he left you waiting in the woods. Four long weeks of knowing something happened to drive your mate away. Nights were spent gazing at the ceiling, mulling over every encounter with him, cataloging every moan, every sigh, every touch.

That string pulled again, fanning the flames of your ire. You could feel your blood pressure rising each time he did it, each tug causing some insult to come spewing from your lips.

Entitled, self-centered, jerk.

You ignored him. Again.

Every night at midnight, like clockwork, he tugged on your heartstrings, frustration at your icy silence evident across the distance between you two. You felt a bit of smug satisfaction at leaving him wanting - surely no one had dared to leave him wanting for anything before.

Spoiled princeling.

It was the only positive from this, the only enjoyment from the situation. Your last encounter with Eris had been devastating, leaving you in a foul mood that still lingered. Everyone had been tiptoeing around you lately, unsure of what happened to cause the storm that was brewing inside.

To make it worse, your powers were leaving those around you on edge. Cassian was more reckless, more driven during training, nearly ripping Azriel’s head off last week. Azriel was more withdrawn, lurking out of sight, spending his time gods know where. Mor was snippy, petty comments flying from her mouth at whoever crossed her path. Rhysand was the only one somewhat immune to it - he was only slightly more agitated than his normal demeanor, his grip so tight on his morning tea yesterday it shattered the mug.

You couldn’t help it - everything inside of you felt wrong, even worse than when you had lost your wings all those years ago. Learning how to walk again after that felt impossible. The ground tilting in different directions with each step, any sense of balance gone. It had taken a year to feel confident in your stride, for your mourning to end. You had lost your sister, mother, father, and wings all in one night.

It had been a confusing whirlwind of pain, most of the night a blur to you. The memory that stood out the most was the scent of pecans and smoke, something almost sickly sweet. Every scar was covered in that scent, every memory singed with it. You were grateful pecans didn’t grow in Night, only available in the western edge of Autumn.

Where your mate lived.

But now this feeling of otherness, like something was wrong, was almost worse. At least you knew what had been bothering you then - there was a source to your grief, frustration, and agony. You were only somewhat aware of the source this time. He had a name, bright red hair, and a sharp tongue that made you see stars. Ignoring your calls for him did more to you than you wanted to admit.

But you just couldn’t work out what happened. You hadn’t said anything to scare him off, only reiterating that it was just sex as normal.

You didn’t like how much this was bothering you.

Eris had been at the root of so much of your life lately - the loss of your wings, the bond snapping for you, the frequent romp in the woods. Now he was consuming your nights as well? That wouldn’t do.

So now, every night at midnight, you stay up, waiting for that tug to come. And each night, the smugness was gone faster and faster each night, leaving you with a gaping hole in your chest, curling into the darkness until you fell asleep.

It was pure luck when it happened, another perfect storm of circumstances and choice to lead you where you needed to be most. Rhysand was gone, off to the Illyrian camps with Cassian and Azriel. Amren was in her apartment, avoiding all of you because Cassian couldn’t resist being as annoying as possible and she needed a ‘month long vacation from stupid’. Mor was - well, somewhere, you supposed. She had mumbled something about needing a break, some alcohol, and a hot fae wrapped around her.

The thought had crossed your mind that they were avoiding you, figuring out that you were the source of their agitation. Gossipy enough to discuss it amongst themselves, but avoidant enough to hope it would go away on its own.

So that left you all alone in the townhouse tonight. It was your favorite home, the other ones not quite as homey to you. The House of Wind was depressing, especially since the loss of your wings meant it was inaccessible without an escort. The Moonstone Palace was a depressing museum of memorabilia you had seen your entire life, the impressiveness of it worn off many centuries ago.

That left the cabin in Illyria you couldn’t bear to go back to. You hadn’t been back since that night, just the memory of its familiar walls making your breathing shallow. Some form of Illyrian pride circulated your veins, making your barren back too shameful to be seen. You knew what the males would say, how the females would look at you in pity, the taunts that would be thrown your way.

It was better to distance yourself from your people. They would get it, every Illyrian’s worst nightmare on display for all to see. They would flinch, shielding their kids eyes, or point you out as a cautionary tale.

That’s what happens to over ambitious females.

Waking up after your wings were gone was the worst experience of your life. Rhysand had held you while you wailed, deep guttural sounds that threatened to topple Mount Ramiel. The loss of it all had threatened to consume you.

Life as you knew it before was over and you would never be the same person you were. You would never see your mother’s smile or hold your sister’s hand again, never able to sit in your father’s study as he scratched a quill on parchment.

Grief had taken residence in your home, an unwelcome guest who refused to leave. The four of you had quickly become ghosts of your past selves. The Illyrians around you began avoiding you because of their wings. Anytime they saw you they were straining to keep them tucked in and small. You began resenting them for trying to hide the most obvious parts of themselves from you, but you also resented them for still having their wings.

Damned if they do, damned if they don’t.

Traditional mourning black wasn’t enough to convey your grief. It wasn’t dark enough to showcase the storm that brewed inside of you.

The scars on your back still itched whenever you saw the black dress tucked in the back of your closet you wore to the funeral.

The funeral was held a few weeks after their deaths - Rhysand wanted you to be more stable before being seen in public, delaying the event for several weeks, enchantments around their bodies to keep them here and preserved for as long as possible.

The appreciation you felt had never been vocalized, never being able to truly thank him for waiting. The funeral had been difficult, but you spent the whole time propped up between Azriel and Cassian. Their large bodies kept you upright, not allowing your shaky legs to give out. You were pale and sweaty, but you stood the entire time, not giving in.

The priestesses had burnt night jasmine over the bodies of your family, hoping to allow them some tranquility as they moved on from this plane of existence. Pyres were built in their honor around them, wreaths of flowers and branches were built to lay atop them.

The people of Velaris looked to you and Rhysand, the last members of their noble family. They offered words of condolences, each of them depositing a flower at your feet.

A memorial to those that still lived, to the one that survived. Their princess was spared the cruelties of another High Lord. So flowers laid at your feet, a premonition for your own future grave.

The incense and the flowers made the town square smell so fresh, but the scent of night jasmine was the most overwhelming. It still clung to the dress in your closet, hitting you every day in smaller doses. Time had helped scab over the scars, but on days like today, it just hurt that extra bit more.

You were years past that, time healing your physical wounds. Your gait was steadier, as if you had never had wings. The scars were just that - healed over skin that bothered you before the wind would pick up, as if some part of your skeleton yearned to take to the skies. The ache had subsided every time you walked past paintings of your sister that hung in the House of Wind. Saying their names had become easier. You could even tell stories about them now without getting choked up.

Now you sat in the living room, spiraling in your own fears and worries. The full moon had come and gone many times since that night, and the males responsible were dead. You should feel fine. And you usually did feel fine.

But tonight the wind howled against your window, a strong storm pelting the glass so loudly you thought it would break. Rain was falling so hard on the roof you were slightly worried it might cave in.

Worst of all - you felt all alone.

The book in your lap was little help. Several minutes went by, your eyes pretending to read, your brain running in the background. The words were nothing, gibberish slashes your brain couldn’t quite make into words. There was nothing special about tonight, but you still couldn’t shake this lingering sense of dread.

A tug in your chest shot a spike of adrenaline through you, heating your body. The last person you wanted to think of right now was Eris Vanserra.

But you couldn’t help the tiny bit of soothing you felt at the contact at the thought that you were on his mind at this moment. Which only annoyed you further. You weren’t some schoolgirl, accepting any scrap of attention you’d receive from a suitor. You were Night Court nobility, a fearsome princess. The night incarnate.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, the sound startling you so badly the book fell from your lap.

Night incarnate who was afraid of a thunderstorm, you supposed.

A tree tapped the window, making your heart pump faster. Your breathing quickened, trying not to get yourself worked up. It’s fine - it’s just a storm was repeated over and over again in your head, trying to slow your breathing.

Everything would be fine.

Your self-soothing fell flat as the room filled with light, the lightning striking something close outside the window. Shards of glass littered the floor, embedding themselves in Rhysand’s hand sewn rug. A scream tore from you, panic and fear etching themselves into your soul. The thunderous beating of your heart was too hard for you to feel the desperate tugs on the string around your heart.

Your arms braced around your head, prepared for impact, but all that came was the rain. After a moment you looked up, finding a large tree limb in the living room. The tree that had been lightly tapping the window all night was suddenly inside the living room. You groaned, trying to find something to cover the window with. You could tape up a blanket, maybe?

If Rhys were here he could just reassemble the window, putting the tree back in its rightful place, but you unfortunately weren’t gifted with much magic outside of empathic powers. You could winnow and perform small tricks, but nothing to the scale of reassembling thousands of window fragments back into place.

Could Eris fix it? The brief question flickered through your mind before you shook it away. You started to make your way across the room, but a tiny shard of glass embedded itself in your foot, the pain causing you to stumble. It was the last straw, the last thing to send you over the edge. Before you knew it, you found yourself on the floor, paralyzed with fear and pain. The crack of thunder came in from the distance, but it was louder without the window. It roared inside, ricocheting off the walls, stuck in the living room torturing you.

The sound suffocated you, wrapping around your throat and making breathing a luxury you didn’t have coin for. The room was getting smaller and it was filled with the sound of the thunder and your heart beating and by the mother you were surely dying.

You were cold and wet, feeling oh so small and alone in the townhouse.

You were cold that night, too. Shivering for hours in the mountains before Tamlin had found you. Was the Mother finally here to collect the one that had escaped death?

You were spiraling into the past, unable to move or bring yourself to the present. You were convinced you could smell the scent of night jasmine if you focused hard enough. Eyes clamped shut, the roaring rain unforgiving on your hearing.

And then it smelled like smoke. Not a subtle scent, but strong and overbearing, enough to pull you from the huddled position you had been in. His warm body surrounded you, arms circling you, desperately hoisting you in the air, pulling you up with them.

That scent clung to you at all hours, a light layer of reminder of what you had been trying to leave behind.

“I’ve got you.” He whispered, more to himself. He cradled your head in his hand, pulling you to his chest. His heart rate was pulsing, the normal rhythm forgotten, replaced by some fast, erratic melody you didn’t recognize.

He pulled you away from the scene before pulling your face away, gently cradling your jaw. His pupils were blown, amber burnt out by the all consuming black that made him look more creature than male. He angled your face multiple ways before his hands slid down your arms, a slow slide of touch before they rested at his side.

Eris was silent as he looked at you, his shoulders rising and falling more slowly with each breath. The rain had soaked him, his short hair dampened by the rain, dripping onto his white tunic. The usually loose fabric now clung to his skin, some of his freckles visible through the wet cloth.

“What are you doing here?”

Eris rubbed at his chest, soothing some invisible ache. He didn’t answer, only stared at you in silence. His face was hard set, all sharp lines and angles ready to cut whoever dared come near.

“Eris, why are you here?” You repeated yourself as rain pelted in through the window, covering the right side of your body. Your nightgown was sticking to you, the robe on top of it doing little to shield you now. You didn’t notice any of it, your full attention on the male in front of you.

Eris waved his hands, a flourish as the tree limb in your living room burnt to ash. You expected the space it had occupied to flood with water, but only steam billowed in the air to reveal a fixed window. The phrase show off prattled around inside you, but the shock hadn’t quite worn off enough for you to say anything else.

“I thought you were dying.” His voice was so small in the now too quiet townhouse. Water dripped onto the floor, creating a puddle on top of the gorgeous hardwood. He looked nothing like the proud, snide Eris you knew - he looked like a boy.

“My chest was being ripped apart, shredded from the inside out. I had to- to come, to see you, to find you and whatever was harming my mate.”

Only now did you realize he was half-dressed: a loose, billowy shirt covered only some of his chest, the strings half-done to uncover part of his chest. He wore trousers but no shoes. He must have rushed over here while he was undressing.

That realization helped you crawl out of the panic stricken state you were in, slowly coming back to the surface.

“And you found a tree.”

You expected him to laugh at how something as simple as a tree could leave you immobilized. But the taunt never came. He looked just as serious as if he had discovered an attempted assassin, not bringing any levity to the situation.

“I found my mate in distress.”

He was trembling in front of you, a slight shake in his hands as he focused on you. You attempted a scowl, your face not quite making the right shape, looking more akin to discomfort.

“Tell me to leave and I will, but it has been months since I’ve laid my eyes on you and I will take every second I can linger.”

Your head wanted him gone, wanted nothing to do with him after he had left you so abruptly and then stood you up. Your mouth couldn’t even form the words, forgetting the shape to make the sounds required, as if the word had vanquished from your vocabulary.

“Why didn’t you come?” The question that had been haunting you for months now slipped out so casually, like asking for the weather or how one’s day has gone.

You couldn’t peel your eyes from Eris, watching every blink, every breath he took, searching for answers in every inch of his physical being.

All you found was the loneliness of the past few weeks reflected back at you in some odd mirror.

“I am not easy,” he croaked, his body tense and rigid.

“I don’t think anyone has ever implied you were.”

“My father-“ Eris swallowed harshly, his throat bobbing with the action. His fist clenched to the side, another crack in the careful facade. “He is not kind nor fair. He is what he thinks is fair.”

“And what do you think he is?”

A story was coming to life through his actions, but it was fuzzy and not all there. What you could see, though, was enough to make your stomach clench.

“An awful fae.”

You were circling each other, orbiting around each other, never quite getting sucked into the other’s gravitational pull. Eris’s admission lingered in the air, his tone begging not to linger on the topic.

Beron Vanserra was not a male you enjoyed seeing. He wasn’t a male you enjoyed knowing was alive, albeit hundreds and hundreds of miles away.

Some understanding clicked in your mind - somehow, Beron had stopped him from seeing you.

“Does he know about us?”

“No.”

Months of sneaking around with Eris, months of fast sex and dirty words. You thought you knew all of Eris, already quite familiar with the shape of his tongue, the curve of his cock.

And only once had he removed his shirt. You had thought the markings on his back were indentations you had left behind from an overly eager romp.

Oh how he had concealed his greatest shame from you, the most private part of himself.

But he had shown you. You just didn’t have the eyes to see it.

Old scars had lingered behind the fresh markings of your pleasure. You were a fool to not have realized until now. Bile rose in your throat as a rush of adrenaline came over you. You swallowed the bile and the territorialism down, leaving Beron for another day. Eris had given you more than he ever had before, but you needed more from him.

“Why’d you go?” Your voice came out scratchy, as if your throat were trying to keep the words inside, spare yourself from the pain of knowing the answer.

“I-“ Eris’s footsteps stopped, his body turned to face yours straight on. “You are my mate.”

His words weren’t sinking in, the fact on his lips not matching the ferocity of his gaze. “This is far from news to me.”

His head shook slightly, red, wet hair falling briefly into his eyes. He looked so pained, so full of a hope that he doesn’t expect to live up to.

“You are my mate.” The words held more conviction, as if that fact was all that kept him grounded to this world, the only thing keeping him standing upright.

“I’m your mate.”

“The Mother made me for you. I was too blind by my own fury to realize that until…”

You stared up at him, the words stalling on your lips. You had no idea what to say, how to vocalize the complexities of your emotions.

“I think of you. At all hours I find myself pondering everything about you. The things I know, what I don’t know. I-“

“What do you think you know about me?”

“I know that my lips feel empty when yours aren’t upon them. I know that your back aches from the loss of your wings every morning. My soul knows yours, my heart beating in a rhythmic prose that calls for your attention.”

His hands were warm as he cradled your face. He looked like he was trying to memorize every inch of your face, cementing this moment forever.

“Please answer my heart’s call. I have never known softness, but I know you now. I can’t make great promises - my father holds an iron will over my life. I am not easy, none of this will be easy, but I am yours.”

All the nerves that had held you hostage these past few weeks, the anxieties that plagued you in the middle of the night, were all carried off with Eris’s confession. You felt light, like every moment of your life had clicked into place to be here. Everything prepared you for the male before you.

“I am not kind nor am I gentle. I am feral. I’m not whole without you. But what we could be together-“ he swallowed back emotion, his forehead pressing against yours, needing the support to continue speaking.

“I always thought I was destined to make some poor female miserable for the unfortunate mistake of being born into whatever family my father approved of. But now I know I would rather spend the rest of my days rotting from my own loneliness than indulge the notion of anyone but you being at my side.”

“And what would I be at your side?”

“Lady of Autumn. My mate. My equal.”

You knew the odds of a political match were possible, even after your father’s death. Rhysand wouldn’t demand it of you, but he would ask the question. You never knew how you would answer.

The moment stretched on, a world of possibilities behind your eyes.

The middle child. Loved, but not the next heir, nor the baby of the family. For years now, you had been telling yourself you were equal to Rhysand, his power the only divide.

But you had known that wasn’t true. To him and the people of the Night Court, you would always be the one who lived. The baby bird without wings, unsure of her own feet.

Eris was just as resolute before you as he had been that night. The pain was blinding, nothing making sense, but Eris kept repeating something over and over into your ear.

You do not end here.

It wasn’t until now that you realized that Eris had never looked at you with pity. All these years, all the loss and heartache. It took Cassian two years before he could look at you without his eyes instinctively looking to your back.

The people who loved you most in this world were gone. Or maybe you were gone to them. Maybe both were true.

You would never have wings again, never get to feel the air beneath them as you glided across an air current. Maybe the next phase of your life was meant to be on the ground, standing on sturdy, solid, rich soil that was full of life and growth and love. The pain of the past month had crept back up, bile in the back of your throat.

“Swear it now. Swear to me that you will never disappear on me again. You weren’t there, and I-“ you weren’t ready to bare your soul to him, to show him how much his disappearance had really affected you. “Swear that you will do whatever it takes to come back to me when I call, that you will not just abandon me.”

“The very depths of my soul yearn for you. Every fiber of my body, every beat of my heart is incomplete without yours harmonizing with it. I will do whatever it takes to make my way back to you. I promise.”

You slowly undid the knot of your robe, keeping eye contact as you let the fabric fall from your shoulders. Eris shuddered, hands flexing at his side as he kept his eyes on your face.

Fingers curled around the strap of your nightgown, slowly sliding each one across your shoulder until it fell in a puddle of silk at your feet. The male before you didn’t blink, didn’t move, only watched.

“If you’re mine, it’s only fair if I’m yours too.” Even without the bond, you would have felt the surge of adoration that flowed through his veins at the admission. “I’m not fragile, I won’t yield, I won’t break. I am not a doll and I won’t be one. If you want me, I am your partner above all else.”

You stepped toward him, your breasts almost touching him. The bond was vibrating with excitement inside of you, something warm that reached your cold toes.

“We are in this together.” It was all you needed before your hand slowly crept up to his face, the magnetism of the bond in your chests pulling you toward him. You cradled his jaw, preening as he leaned into your touch.

“My mate.” A whisper from his thoughts and your lips, so much emotion in those two words. You balanced on raised toes as he leaned down, lips finding each other in the middle.

It felt like coming home after a long day, slowly moving through the house you knew every part of it and finding something new to appreciate at every turn. Warm and inviting, he tasted like cinnamon and fresh bread, some Autumn dessert no doubt.

Heat radiated off of him, surely turning the water on him into steam. Your arms wrapped around his neck, the space between feeling insurmountable. His hands cradled your back, softly laying right over your scars. Aware, but not timid. Your naked body was pressed to his clothed one, letting his tongue roam in your mouth.

Hours must have passed by the time you reached out, tugging at his shirt for him to remove it. A joke could have been made, some lighthearted comment about being bare before him while he was still dressed, but it felt wrong.

This moment required no levity, no words. You felt comfortable and safe and warm, just wanting to ride out the moment.

The two of you broke apart so he could pull his shirt over his head, his trousers being discarded along with it. Two souls bared before each other. It wasn’t your first time, especially not with him, but everything felt new.

He was beautiful in the lowlight, the rain sounds echoing the thundering of your heart. This time his gaze roamed your body, appreciating every curve and dimple.

Before it was all teeth and gnawing, scratching an itch. Rushed, uncaring, so long as you both got an end. Repressed and frantic, afraid to be caught by your own feelings.

That was then and the two of you lived in the now where you were now one entity, no clear edges to either of you. The bond was flowing between you, two souls connected in every look and every movement.

Two sets of eyes held onto each other, hardly blinking, both of them wanting to remember every thrust, every moment, every sense of pleasure.

Every emotion flowed through the golden bond between them, ebbing and flowing with every heartbeat. Each touch was decadent, each movement slow and languid, allowing time to pass without a care in the world.

The rug that had been littered with shattered glass was beneath your bodies, cushioning you in this new experience of savoring the other.

Neither of you looked away, your eyes only closing when you were kissing. A tenderness and level of devotion neither had known before. Nothing would hold a candle to this. No one would ever pull this emotion from either of them, no one would ever be exactly what the other needed when they needed it.

Perhaps no one else had ever felt this way before. So full of possibility and wanting and needing this new life to start now. So sure it was right, every touch and squeeze and stroke further proof of the Mother’s love.

When Eris felt himself get closer to that precipice, he cradled your face so softly, a tenderness he had never known. He watched pleasure through your eyes, his own face reflected back to him. Maybe the sight spurred him on, the love in your eyes so clear as he thrusted in and out.

“Mate.” The word slipped from his lips as everything he kept inside, his seed, his love, every emotion he kept hidden tight within him. It all spilled out, unable to keep it to himself.

“My mate.” The words were like a mantra, as if repeating them cemented them, made them more real.

But the words were real. This was real.

The male had never thought it possible. Thought his soul too rotten, too foregone to have a mate. To have someone tethered to him for the rest of his cursed existence.

He fought it. He didn’t want it. Didn’t want to watch as he corrupted and destroyed his mate.

But you were more than some delicate thing he could break. You weren’t a thing to break at all. Every piece of you was aligned perfectly with him, every shape and crevice molded for the other to hold for all eternity.

Despite it all, despite the atrocities he’s witnessed, despite the terrible things he’s had to do to survive, despite the person he had to become, Eris Vanserra had found something to live for.

Banner by @tsunami-of-tears

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-angst @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl @quiet-loser @thegreyjoyed @paankhaleyaaar @acoazlove

Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @book-obsessed124

Gingerfucker taglist: @bookwormysblog @talesofadragon @saltedcoffeescotch

Author’s note: eeeeee you guys LOVED the first part and I’m SO excited to finally get this second part out. Mwah 😘

Tags

acotar fics eris vanserra eris x reader

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desuwings

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desuwings

2 months ago

The Secret Hwang

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: reader is pregnant

Genre: exes to lovers?? angst, fluff

Summary: Hyunjin breaks up with you after the company thinks your relationship is affecting his work. What he didn't know was that you were also gearing up to tell him something very important. But then swoops in two angels in disguise, helping you through the tough time, before it all blows over.

You’re breaking up with me?” The words left your lips before your brain could catch up.

Your heart thundered against your ribcage, like it was desperate to escape what was unfolding right then. And your boyfriend of three years, Hyunjin, looked as miserable as you felt.

Hyunjin stood in front of you, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie, shoulders sagging. He wouldn’t look at you - that was even worse.

“Yes,” he whispered, voice so low it barely registered. “I'm so sorry.”

You take a step closer, his words not making any sense.

“You have to? What the hell does that mean, Hyunjin? Did I…did I do something? Did I hurt you-?”

His head snaps up, his eyes wide and glossy, horrified at the mere suggestion.

“No! Of course not! You’ve never - God, Y/N, no. It’s -” His words faltered, and he looked away again, his hands shaking as they grip his hoodie strings. “It’s…they think it’s affecting me. My work.”

“Who? The company?”

“They said…” He swallowed hard, the words clearly tearing him apart as he forced them out. “They said if I don’t end this, they’ll fire you. They’ll make sure you never work in this industry again. And they’ll…ruin it all for you...”

You stared at him, utterly speechless. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

“So what? You’re just going to do what they want? Throw away three years like it means nothing?”

“It’s not like that,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“Protect me? By breaking me?” You laughed bitterly, even though it felt more like choking.

You knew he wanted to reach for you, to pull you close like he always did when you were upset, but he didn’t move.

“Baby, I don’t have a choice. If I don’t do this-”

You didn't stay to hear the rest. You took a step back before saying, “You’re a coward,”

Hyunjin’s head snapped up like you slapped him, but you pressed on.

“You’re letting them control you. Letting them decide what our love is worth. You’re not even fighting for me.”

Hyunjin’s face crumpled, and for a second, you thought he would reconsider. But he didn't. He just looked really sad. And lost.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“Goodbye, Hyunjin.”

And then you ran. You didn’t look back. You couldn't. Because if you did, you’d fall apart completely, and you just couldn’t afford that. Not with the tiny life growing inside you.

The three months that followed were hard, no doubt. But relatively less harder than you thought, considering the fact that the boys were on tour. You didn't have to see him everyday as you taught your heart to ‘unlove’ him. If such a thing could be done.

You had decided to go ahead with your pregnancy - bad call probably, because you obviously couldn't tell anyone that your baby was Hyunjin’s. Of course. So you'd have to come up with a creative lie to cover the gap - a non-existent boyfriend or a husband?

It was exhausting.

---

You stood at the kitchen counter, staring at your ultrasound scan result. The sight of your little bean on the screen earlier had brought tears to your eyes - happy bittersweet ones. But mostly, you’d felt so terribly lonely.

Moments like that were meant to be shared, weren’t they? Your heart ached so much. So damn much. You sighed as you gazed at the little form in the black and white image.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Setting the report on the counter, you get the door. What you didn't expect was Felix’s sweet smiling face. You hadn't seen him or any of the boys since the break up (they'd left for the tour), so seeing Felix, your close friend, made you freeze.

“Lix,” you said, your voice more tired than you’d like.

He immediately pulled you into a warm hug, and you had to control that strong urge to just weep.

“Hey,” he said, squeezing you tightly. “I missed you! How have you been?”

“I'm alright. You guys had a good tour I heard,” You managed, stepping aside to let him in.

“It was good,” He said with a smile, and held up a bag. “I brought you a little something from Australia.”

“Lix, you didn’t have to -”

“Oh, hush. I do it all the time.” he said. “You look... tired…you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you lied, waving him off.

“You want me to get his stuff? I have it packed and ready.” You said, wanting to get that out of the way as soon as possible.

“Yeah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “ Is that okay?”

Your stomach twisted unpleasantly, but you nodded and said, “Yeah, of course. Let me grab it.”

He followed you into the house, and as you went into the bedroom to get Hyunjin’s things, Felix walked into the kitchen to put the things he got for you away.

When you returned with the bag, however, you saw Felix in the kitchen, uncharacteristically quiet. You walked in and completely froze in the doorway.

Felix stood by the counter, holding your ultrasound result, and his usually bright expression was completely blank, his eyes glued black and white image.

“Lix…” you said softly, panic rising in your chest.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice eerily calm, “what is this?”

You didn’t answer, your hands trembling as you clutched the bag of Hyunjin’s things. Tears pricked your eyes, and you knew there was no use pretending or coming up with a lie.

“Please tell me this is not what I think it is.” he said, his voice wavering as he turned to face you with the paper in his hand.

Your silence spoke louder than words. Tears spilled over, and you quickly wiped at them, trying to keep it together. But it was of no use - Felix took one look at your face and let the paper fall onto the counter.

“Oh my God.” His voice cracked as he crossed the room in two giant strides, pulling you into a tight hug.

His arms wrapped around you like a safety net, holding you together.

“Y/N, please don't tell me Hyunjin knocked you up and then broke up with you. Tell me I’m hallucinating. Please.”

You laughed weakly through your tears, the absurdity of the situation hitting you all at once.

“He didn't know, Lix. He didn't know-” You whispered and Felix pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still on your shoulders.

His mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was trying to form words but couldn't. Finally, he let out a strangled laugh.

“He doesn’t know?!” He shook his head, his freckles standing out against his flushed skin. “Are you kidding me, Y/N? You’re telling me that man broke up with you because he wanted to protect you, and the entire time, you’ve been carrying his baby?”

“I was going to tell him, Lix, I was. That's why I went to meet him, but didn't give me a chance to say anything…he just…he just broke up with me!” you cried, wiping your face. “What was I supposed to do? Tell him and ruin everything?”

“Yes!” Felix shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “Yes, sweetheart, you’re supposed to tell him! He deserves to know. This is big, like life changing big!”

You shook your head, your voice trembling as you said, “Lix, you don’t understand. This is about his career, his dreams. He’s worked so hard to get where he is, and I won’t be the reason he loses it all.”

Felix stared at you, his face a mixture of disbelief and heartbreak.

“Y/N,” he said softly. “You can’t do this alone.”

“I have to,” you whispered, looking down at the floor. “I will.”

“Yes, you do.” His voice was firm, his hands gently cupping your cheeks and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “But don't have to. I’m here. Whatever you need, anything at all, you’ve got me. You’re not allowed to say no, okay?”

Your breath hitched, the warmth of his hands and the sincerity in his voice had you crumblung all over again. “Lix…”

“I mean it,” he said, his eyes shining with determination. “You’re not doing this alone. I don’t care what it takes. We’re going to figure this out. Together.”

You nodded, sniffling as he wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “Thank you.”

Felix didn’t say anything to Hyunjin. True to his word, he kept his mouth shut, but the secret was eating him alive to say the least. The man had gone full protective mode - literally adopting you, and by extension, your unborn child, completely.

And his possessiveness manifested in the most Felix way possible: constant texting. Constant.

Also, he changed your contact name to George. Why? Because no ones gonna get suspicious about a George he's talking to 24*7, right?

---

7:32 am

Felix: Good morning, sunshine! Have you eaten yet? If not, DO IT NOW. Don’t argue with me.

Felix: I will come over if you don't obey me, George!

You: Felix, it’s 7 in the morning. I just woke up. Also, who's George?

Felix: You’re George. That’s your name now. It’s safer this way.

Felix: And don’t dodge the question: HAVE YOU EATEN???

You: I literally just rolled out of bed, Felix. Give me a second to breathe.

Felix: No time to breathe, go FEED THE BABY.

You: This baby isn’t even hungry yet. Can you chill?

Felix: Fine. But just so you know, I won't hesitate from force-feeding you myself.

---

12:45 PM

Felix: Hey, did you go to your appointment today?

You: Yes, I went.

Felix: Pics or it didn’t happen.

You: I’m not sending you pictures of me at the doctor’s office, Lix

Felix: Why not? What if I need to fight the doctor? I need evidence.

You: Why would you need to fight my doctor?

Felix: I dunno, what if they're bad at their job? I’m not taking chances, George.

You: Please stop calling me George.

Felix: It's your name.

---

7:48 PM

Felix: Are you home? Did you eat dinner? Did you lock your doors?

You: Oh my God, Felix, can you give me a second to exist without you breathing down my neck?

Felix: No. I’m invested now.

You: Why are you like this?

Felix: Because my best friend knocked you up and then left you, and now I feel morally obligated to act like your baby daddy by proxy.

You: Please don’t say that again. Ever.

Felix: Too late. Also, how’s George Jr.?

You: Felix, we are NOT naming this baby George Jr.

Felix: Why not? It’s a great name.

You: I’m blocking you.

Felix: No, you’re not.

---

Hyunjin on the other hand was completely unaware of everything that was happening around him. He was completely shut off, pouring his entire self into practice and his work outs.

He missed you. He missed you so damn much. He would randomly take a walk in the building, hoping he'd get a glimpse of you. But seriously, you were nowhere to be seen.

Hyunjin was on his way to the practice room after a particularly unsuccessful attempt to run into you, when he heard the voices. He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but the venom in their tone caught his attention.

It took him a minute to figure out that they were actually talking about you, and he couldn't help but feel that rage bubbling up inside him.

“She’s gained so much weight lately,” one of the girls snickered. “I mean, have you seen her?”

The other girl laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t know what happened to her. She used to be so put together, but now? She’s just… bloated and tired all the time.”

Hyunjin’s jaw clenched so hard it felt like his teeth might crack. How dare they?! He felt the overwhelming urge to whirl around and to let his emotions loose, to say something.

But of course Hyunjin couldn’t do that. Not really. He was an idol - a carefully constructed image, a brand - and he's already sacrificed way too much for the sake of it. He couldn’t afford to screw it all up now.

So instead, he swallowed his rage, shoved his hands deep into his pockets, and started walking again. And then, as if it was a cruel joke, he saw you.

You were walking down the hallway, dressed in a dark-colored sweater, your hair tied back, wisps escaping to frame your face. You looked tired, yes. But, as always, to him, you looked absolutely beautiful.

But Hyunjin couldn't help but see that something was different. His eyes lingered a little too long on the soft curve of your body. Your face seemed rounder, your stride slightly slower, more careful.

His heart ached as he watched you pause at the corner, adjusting your bag before disappearing around the corner. He missed you so much it physically hurt. Shaking his head, Hyunjin turned and walked away, trying so hard to hold it all together.

He couldn’t keep doing this to himself. He had to move on.

If only he knew that a mini Hyunjin was quite literally baking inside you, tucked away and growing strong under that sweater. If only he knew.

3:40 pm

Felix: How's the nausea?

You: I can't understand why it's called morning sickness if it's gonna last all day and trying to murder me

Felix: Don’t worry, George, I’m gonna make you the perfect meal. Zero vomit potential.

You: Omg

---

Meanwhile in Felix’s kitchen:

Felix was in deep. The counter was a disaster of herbs and half-cut veggies, and a pan bubbled ominously on the stove. His laptop sat precariously on the edge of the counter, streaming a cooking tutorial that Felix was utterly failing to keep up with.

“Chop the ginger finely,” the video said.

Felix frowned down at the mangled, uneven chunks of ginger on his cutting board.

“This is fine, right?” he mumbled to himself, throwing them into a pan.

“No, it’s not fine,” a voice said behind him, calm but dripping with judgment.

Felix jumped, yelping as he nearly knocked the pan off the stove. He whirled around to see Minho leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed and a single eyebrow raised.

“Hyung!” Felix squeaked, his voice an octave too high. “What are you doing here?”

“We're having dinner together. Forgot I see ?” Minho asked flatly, his sharp eyes sweeping over the culinary battlefield. He nodded at the laptop screen.

“What’s this? I thought we were ordering?”

Felix scrambled to close the YouTube video but fumbled, sending a spatula clattering to the floor.

“No! I just…uh…thought this recipe looked… yummy?”

Minho’s other eyebrow shot up as he read, “Ginger and lemon soup for nausea relief? That’s not exactly your usual vibe, Lix.”

Felix froze, his brain scrambling for an excuse. “I…uh…”

Minho tilted his head, his gaze locked on Felix. He gestured toward the mess. “Who’s it for?”

“No one!” Felix blurted out too quickly.

Minho smirked - like a cat cornering a mouse. He strolled into the kitchen, plucked up the laptop, and read the YouTube title aloud: “Pregnancy-Friendly Meals, huh?”

Felix groaned internally. He was so dead. Minho set the laptop down and turned to Felix, his face unreadable.

“You’re cooking for Y/N, aren’t you?”

“How…what…why would you -” Felix blinked at him, jaw dropping.

“I saw her going into a maternity hospital last week...and now this? It’s really sweet of you,” Minho said, his tone soft and kind, as he started clearing the counter. “She’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

Felix stared at him, absolutely flabbergasted. How did Minho know? He stayed silent, unsure if confirming or denying would make things worse.

“Relax, I’m not going to say anything. But…” His sharp eyes flicked to the pan on the stove, then back to Felix, a smirk forming on his face. “You’re doing a terrible job. Move.”

Before Felix could protest, Minho rolled up his sleeves and took over. Within minutes, the chaos Felix had created was transformed into a very professionally prepared meal.

Felix hovered awkwardly, torn between relief and panic. “You…you won’t tell anyone, right?”

Minho snorted. “Of course not. And if you’re serious about helping her, then I'll stand right by you.”

He packed up everything in containers and handed it to Felix with a raised eyebrow.

“Now go. She needs to eat.”

---

Felix was at yours in record time, and when he set the food down on the coffee table, you looked up from the couch, sighing softly.

“Did you burn the kitchen down?”

“Nope,” Felix said quickly. “Minho saved me.”

Your head snapped up, eyes wide. “What? Minho? He knows?”

Felix flopped onto the couch beside you, looking absolutely defeated.

“Yeah, apparently he’s known for a while. He saw you going into the maternity hospital one day.”

You groaned, dragging a hand over your face. “Oh my God.”

“He promised not to say anything!” Felix said defensively, holding his hands up. “And he even helped cook this. So, technically, you can’t kill me.”

You glared at him but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Thanks for being here, Lix.”

Felix grinned, nudging the plate toward you. “Eat, George. Minho will haunt me if you don’t.”

You rolled your eyes but dug in, and for the first time in days, the food didn’t immediately send you running for the bathroom.

---

The next morning, you woke up to the doorbell, in the early hours. It was still dark outside, as you stumbled out of your bedroom, still half-asleep, and a scowl firmly planted on your face.

“Took you long enough,” Minho mumbled as he walked into your apartment, going straight for the kitchen.

You were trying to understand if you were hallucinating or if Minho was actually in your kitchen.

“Minho, what are you doing here?” You asked, trying to tame your hair.

“Sit,” he commanded without looking up, focused on flipping something in the pan.

You frowned but obeyed, collapsing into a chair at the table. “It’s not even sunrise.”

“Just making sure you eat,” he said simply. “Lix said you're struggling,”

“You're here to cook for me?”

“Yes?”

Before you could respond, the door swung open, and Felix stepped inside, carrying what looked like a bag of groceries. He stopped short, staring at Minho with the same confusion you felt.

“What is he doing here?”

“I could ask the same about you,” Minho shot back without missing a beat, sprinkling a pinch of salt over whatever masterpiece he was working on.

Felix stormed into the kitchen, setting his bag down with an unnecessary thud. “What are you doing, hyung? And what are you even making? George doesn’t even like eggs that much!”

Minho scoffed. “It’s not for you, so why does it matter?”

“It matters because I’m supposed to be taking care of her!” Felix snapped, crossing his arms like an angry puppy.

“Clearly, you weren’t doing a great job,” Minho retorted. “I saw the mess you called cooking yesterday.”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands. “Not this.”

---

Over the next few days, it became a full-on battle between Minho and Felix. It started with each trying to one-up the other in ways that were more amusing than helpful.

One morning, Felix insisted on making pancakes, painstakingly arranging blueberries into a smiley face on each one. “See, George? They’re cute and delicious!”

Minho, unimpressed, countered by making a three-course breakfast complete with fresh juice and perfectly folded napkins. “Pregnant women need nutrients, not art projects,” he said smugly.

Felix glared at him like he wanted to fight. “Pregnant women also need to smile, and my pancakes are adorable.”

But for all their ridiculousness, their constant presence was a comfort. They kept you distracted from the gaping hole in your chest where Hyunjin’s absence had settled. But no amount of blueberry pancakes or perfectly cooked meals could fill that void.

Felix had barged into your apartment one evening with a box of cookies that he'd baked.

“George! I baked you something!”

Minho, already in the kitchen chopping vegetables, glanced over his shoulder with a look that screamed, not this again.

“What are those?” Minho asked, gesturing to Felix's box with his knife.

“Cookies,” Felix said proudly, setting them on the table in front of you. “Pregnancy-safe, gluten-free, sugar-free, full of love.”

“Full of what?” Minho deadpanned, clearly unimpressed.

“Love!” Felix shot back, hands on his hips. “Something you wouldn’t understand, obviously.”

“Love isn’t a substitute for nutrition, Yongbok. Try again.” Minho snorted.

“Oh, here we go,” you muttered, already bracing for the impending argument as you sat at the table, nibbling cautiously on a cookie.

“You’re just jealous because George Jr. is my baby,” Felix said, crossing his arms and glaring at Minho like he’d just won the argument of the century.

Minho paused mid-chop, turned slowly to face Felix.

“George Jr.?” he asked flatly. “That’s the best you could come up with?”

“What’s wrong with George Jr.?” Felix said defensively. “It’s a strong name! Unique even!”

Minho scoffed. “Unique isn’t always a good thing, Felix. You might as well call the baby Lemon or Carrot.”

“Wow, okay,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands.

“And besides,” Minho continued, turning back to the stove like the conversation was settled, “I do the majority of the cooking, Y/N is thriving on it, so I'm the rightful Appa.”

Felix gasped like Minho had just slapped him.

“Excuse me? Cooking doesn’t make you the dad! I’m the one who gives her all the cuddles and emotional support!”

“You’re like a clingy golden retriever,” Minho shot back, not even turning around.

“Say that again, hyung, I dare -”

“Enough!” you shouted, cutting through their bickering. Both men froze, wide-eyed, and looked at you.

“I'm sure Hyunjin would probably like a say in this whole ‘who’s the dad’ debate.” you said, and the room fell silent.

And then Minho shrugged casually.

“I mean, sure, if we’re counting his five seconds of contribution to this whole thing.”

You and Felix both turned to stare at him, your mouths dropping open in identical expressions of disbelief. It took approximately two seconds before all three of you burst out laughing.

The laughter started light, then turned uncontrollable, your giggles mixing with Felix’s loud snorts and Minho’s chuckles. You laughed so hard your sides started to hurt, but then, without warning, the giggles morphed into something else.

The tears hit you before you could stop them. One moment you were laughing, and the next, you were crying, the overwhelming mix of emotions crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Felix’s smile faltered, and he rushed to your side, wrapping an arm around you.

“George, hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said softly, his usual sunshine dimmed by concern.

Minho was there a moment later, kneeling in front of you and gently resting a hand on your knee.

“Breathe, jagi,” he said quietly. “You’re okay. We’re here.”

You sniffled, trying to compose yourself, but the weight of everything - the pregnancy, the secret, missing Hyunjin - was too much.

“I miss him…a lot,” you managed between sobs.

“I know, I know…but we're here for you, George. You’re not alone in this, okay? We’ve got you.” Felix hugged you tighter, his voice steady but emotional.

Minho nodded as he said, “He’s right. You’re stuck with us now. You and George Jr.”

That earned a watery laugh from you, and you wiped at your eyes, looking between them.

“I don’t deserve you two.”

“Yes, you do,” Minho said firmly.

“Absolutely,” Felix added. “And so does George Jr.”

---

Hyunjin was losing his mind.

It wasn’t just the lingering ache of your absence or the fact that he hadn’t heard your voice in what felt like forever. But it was also Felix, his best friend, his other half, his partner-in-crime. Felix was suddenly a closed book. The guy who usually shared everything, from dumb cat videos to the tiniest gossip about their members, had turned into a human vault. A sketchy human vault.

Felix was constantly disappearing. After practice, during breaks, even in the middle of game nights. When Hyunjin asked, Felix always had some vague excuse.

“Oh, just running errands!”

“Helping out Minho-hyung with something.”

“Had to grab something for George!”

Who the hell was George?

Hyunjin squinted every time Felix made one of these excuses. Since when was his best friend suddenly so obsessed with running errands? And why was Minho always involved?

Hyunjin didn’t like it.

At first, he chalked it up to paranoia. Maybe he was overthinking. Obviously, losing you had him extra possessive and clingy. Maybe Felix and Minho were just…hanging out more? It wasn’t a crime. But then Hyunjin started noticing things.

Felix and Minho were inseparable. They’re always whispering about God-knows-what. They’d vanish together after schedules, not even bothering to invite Hyunjin to join.

So naturally, one evening, after a particularly grueling practice session, Hyunjin cornered Felix in the locker room.

“Lix,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall like he was interrogating a criminal. “Where have you been going all the time?”

And to his credit, Felix didn’t even flinch.

“Oh, nowhere. Just hanging out with Minho-hyung. You know how it is.”

“Since when do you and Minho-hyung have this…whatever-this-is?” Hyunjin narrowed his eyes.

Felix shrugged nonchalantly, pulling his hoodie over his head and saying, “We’ve just been vibing.”

“Vibing?” Hyunjin echoed, incredulous. “You disappear every day to vibe? And what’s with all the whispering during practice?”

Felix zipped up his hoodie and slung his bag over his shoulder.

“You’re being dramatic, Hyun. It’s nothing.”

Hyunjin stared at him, trying to gauge if Felix was lying. But Felix’s face was completely blank, a perfect poker face.

“What about Y/N?” Hyunjin asked, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. “Have you…seen her?”

At that, Felix paused, just for a second, but it was enough for Hyunjin to notice.

“I'm sure she’s good, Hyun. Busy probably.” he managed, giving him a smile.

Hyunjin frowned, but before he could press further, Felix clapped him on the shoulder.

“Don’t overthink, mate. Get some rest, yeah?”

And just like that, Felix was gone, leaving Hyunjin standing in the empty locker room, more confused than ever.

---

The next day, Hyunjin had been lingering suspiciously around the studio after practice, pretending to stretch while trying (and failing) to overhear Felix and Minho’s latest hushed conversation.

Chris, so so used to all the bullshit his boys pulled on the regular, had noticed this constant whispering between Felix and Minho, and also Hyunjin’s not-so-subtle attempts to loiter. He clapped his hands loudly.

“Hyunjin, go home. You’re exhausted, mate.”

Hyunjin, startled, stammered something about finishing up but Chris gave him a hard enough glare that had him reluctantly packing up and storming off (throwing one last suspicious glance at Felix, who pretended to be engrossed in tying his shoelaces.)

Once Hyunjin was out the door, Chris turned to Felix and Minho, his arms crossed and his leader gaze set to high alert.

“Okay,” he said, his voice stern, “what’s going on with you two? You’ve been sneaking around like teenagers, and I have a bad feeling about it. Spill.”

Felix and Minho exchanged a glance, before Minho shook his head.

“Nothing’s going on, hyung,” Minho said coolly, leaning against the wall like he wasn’t sweating internally.

Felix, on the other hand, immediately started babbling.

“Oh, you know, just chilling and cooking and - did you know George is a big fan of pumpkin soup? I’ve been learning how to make it. Minho hyung’s been helping…he’s such a perfectionist in the kitchen, but that’s beside the point -”

But the moment ‘George’ left his mouth, Minho sighed.

“Who the hell is George?” Chris interrupted, his sharp eyes narrowing.

Minho sighed, muttering, “Great work, Yongbok.”

Felix blinked rapidly, his face heating up. He could do anything, literally anything in the world. But that anything didn't include lying to Chris.

“Oh, uh, George is just…you know…a friend!”

“A friend? You’ve been disappearing every day, and sneaking around because of a friend?”

Felix opened his mouth, probably to launch into another nonsensical explanation, but Minho cut him off.

“George is Y/N,” he said flatly, like he was tired of the charade.

Chris froze.

“What do you mean George is Y/N?” he asked, his voice rising slightly. “What the hell is going on?”

Felix started flailing, his words tripping over each other.

“It’s not like we didn’t want to tell you, hyung, but it’s complicated, and she’s been going through a lot, and she needs all the help and support with George Jr. -”

“George Jr.?!” Chris exclaimed, his voice now echoing off the walls.

Minho, as calm as ever, pointed at Felix. “You’re making it worse.”

Chris threw his hands in the air as he said, “What is George Jr.?!”

“You mean who is George Jr.? It’s the baby. She’s pregnant.” Minho sighed, rubbing his temples.

The room went silent. Chris blinked several times, his expression cycling through shock, confusion, and then something that could only be described as 'Dad Rage'.

“She’s pregnant?! SHE’S PREGNANT, AND YOU TWO KEPT THIS FROM ME?!”

Felix, now thoroughly panicking, looked at Minho like he was begging for help. Minho just shrugged.

Chris glared at both of them. “You’re taking me to her. Right now.”

---

Ten minutes later, there was a knock at your door. You waddled over and opened it to find Chris standing there, his arms crossed and his eyes full of emotion.

Before you could say a word, he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

“Y/N,” he said firmly, his voice laced with both worry and frustration. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Behind him, Felix stood pouting like a scolded child and Minho looked like he regretted everything.

“Chris,” you gasped, trying to pull back from his hug. “I can’t breathe!”

He released you but kept his hands on your shoulders, scanning your face like a concerned dad. “You should’ve told me. We’re family, Y/N. You thought of doing this alone? Does he know? Oh my god, he doesn't know, does he?!”

From behind him, Felix muttered, “She’s not alone. I’ve been taking care of her.”

Chris whipped around to face him.

“Oh, you’ve been taking care of her, have you?!”

Felix folded his arms, his pout deepening.

“George Jr. is mine. None of you fake dads are gonna ever-”

Minho, who’d been quiet up until now, rolled his eyes and interrupted him.

“Please. You think you’re the dad just because you baked her cookies? Please.”

Felix turned to him, affronted. “You’ve been helping me! And my baby!”

“Oh, for the love of -” Chris groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, before glancing at you. “We're gonna get through this.”

You smiled at them, nodding. But deep inside, guilt gnawed at you. Everyone except Hyunjin seemed to be catching up.

You'd started working from home more and more since you started your sixth month. You came over to the company only when you had something important to do.

This afternoon was supposed to be uneventful. You had planned to drop by the company, grab a few files, and leave quickly. But apparently, fate had other plans.

You were leaving one of the offices when you heard it.

“Y/N?”

The voice was soft, almost hesitant. You froze in place, gripping the files tightly against your chest. Slowly, you turned to see Hyunjin standing a few feet away, his eyes wide as saucers, his gaze locked on you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. His gaze flickered down to your stomach - the not-so-subtle curve of your six-month baby bump that your sweater absolutely failed to conceal under closer scrutiny.

Hyunjin’s face drained of all color.

“What…Y/N…are you…?” he stammered, his voice breaking.

You panicked, taking a step back. “Hyunjin, I -”

But he was already closing the distance between you, his voice rising into a frantic whisper.

“Are you pregnant?!”

You winced, glancing around nervously, but the hallway was thankfully empty. Still, Hyunjin’s voice, even when hushed, completely floored you.

“Hyunjin, let’s not -”

“Are you pregnant?!” he repeated, his voice breaking. His hand gestured toward your stomach, and he looked so utterly wrecked that you couldn’t bring yourself to lie.

So you nodded.

His reaction was immediate. Hyunjin stumbled backward, his eyes welling up with tears, his hands clutching his head as if trying to keep himself from falling apart.

“Oh my God,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Oh my God. Oh my God, it’s mine, isn’t it?”

You swallowed hard, your throat tightening at the sight of him falling apart. “Hyunjin -”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was louder now, no longer a whisper. “That’s my baby! Our baby! And you didn’t tell me?”

“Hyunjin, please,” you begged, trying to calm him, but he was a storm you couldn’t contain.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded again, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I would’ve left everything for you! Don’t you know that? I would’ve -”

You shook your head fiercely, your own tears spilling over now.

“Hyunjin, I couldn't -”

“I don’t care!” he shouted, his voice cracking painfully. “None of it means anything if I don’t have you!”

Before either of you could say more, Chris appeared, obviously having heard the chaos from the other end of the hallway.

“What’s going on here?” he demanded, his eyes flickering between you and the sobbing mess that was Hyunjin.

“Hyung,” Hyunjin sobbed, clutching Chris’s arm as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. “She’s pregnant. She’s pregnant, and she didn’t tell me. That’s my baby.” His voice broke again, and he leaned heavily into Chris, tears falling freely.

Chris’s expression softened instantly, and he glanced at you as you stood rooted to your spot, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Hyunjin, calm down. Let’s talk about this somewhere else, okay?” He tried to guide Hyunjin back toward the practice room, but Hyunjin was not taking orders from anyone at this point.

“No,” he said, his voice trembling. “I’m not going anywhere until she tells me why she didn’t tell me.”

You stepped closer, your heart breaking as you cupped his tear-streaked cheeks with trembling hands. His skin was warm beneath your touch, his eyes red and raw as they searched yours for answers.

“Because,” you whispered, your voice cracking, “I love you. I love you too much to let you give up your dreams for me.”

Hyunjin’s tears fell harder.

“You think I’d regret it?” he choked out. “You think I’d ever regret choosing you? Choosing our baby?”

You shook your head through your tears.

“I couldn’t let you make that choice, Hyun. Not when I knew how much this means to you.”

Before he could respond, Felix and Minho arrived, their worried faces appearing at the end of the hallway. Felix took one look at the scene and immediately rushed to Hyunjin’s side, wrapping an arm around him.

“Hyunjin,” Felix said softly, his own voice shaking. “Come on, breathe.”

Minho, meanwhile, approached you, his arm going around your shoulder, and then glancing at Hyunjin.

“You’re not going to solve anything by falling apart here,” he said calmly. “Pull yourself together.”

But Hyunjin was inconsolable, his sobs growing louder.

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know. She’s been going through this alone, and I didn’t know. What kind of person does that make me?”

You stepped closer, your voice firm as you said, “Hyunjin, stop. You’re not a bad person. This isn’t your fault. If anything, it's mine. For keeping this from you.”

“I want to be there. Oh my God, I love you! Don’t shut me out again,” he whispered brokenly. “Please.”

You nodded, squeezing his hand. “I won’t.”

As Chris and Felix finally led Hyunjin away, Minho stayed behind, pulling you into a hug.

“Well,” he said dryly, “that could’ve gone worse.”

You let out a shaky laugh, wiping your tears. “Could it?”

Minho sshrugged

“At least he knows now. He’ll come around. And when he does…” He smirked faintly. “You’re going to have a hell of a time keeping him out of your hair.”

You sighed, your heart heavy but hopeful. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The company meeting was the stuff of legends. Chris had marched in like the leader of a revolution, Hyunjin trailing behind with fire in his eyes. By the end of it, the higher-ups had no choice but to relent. Hyunjin wasn’t going anywhere. Neither were you. And most importantly, Hyunjin was going to make damn sure his family - you and George Jr. were going to be happy, and with him always.

Now that he was officially back, Hyunjin wasted no time slipping into full-time ‘husband’ mode. His mission? Make up for every second he’d missed. And maybe, just maybe, remind Minho and Felix that while they had been excellent stand-ins, it was time to hand over the reins to the rightful husband.

But, of course, Felix and Minho had no intention of stepping aside without a fight.

---

You and Hyunjin were finally having some well-deserved downtime - he had you nestled against his chest on the couch, his hand resting protectively on your bump. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt calm. Peaceful.

And then Felix appeared.

“Move,” Felix announced dramatically, striding into the room and pointing at Hyunjin like he was accusing him of a crime.

“What?” Hyunjin asked, frowning.

“I said move,” Felix repeated, already wedging himself between the two of you (particularly experienced with this as he'd done it a hundred times before).

You couldn’t help but laugh as Felix threw an arm around you and placed his head on your shoulder.

“Just so you know, Mr. Biological Father,” Felix began, glaring pointedly at Hyunjin, “George Jr. is mine. We share an emotional bond that transcends DNA, okay? And, George? She's mine too. You being back changes nothing.”

Hyunjin’s jaw dropped, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“What are you even talking about?! Why are you still calling her that?!”

Felix huffed dramatically, clutching you tighter.

“Because she’s my George! And I will not stand for you disrupting the sacred trust we’ve built. Now go be useful and bring George her smoothie.”

Hyunjin looked at you, utterly baffled. “You’re seriously letting him call you George?”

“It’s a thing now. I’ve stopped fighting it.” You shrugged, trying to stifle your giggles.

Felix gave Hyunjin a smug grin.

“See? She’s accepted her destiny. Now go.”

Before Hyunjin could fire back, Minho’s voice floated in from the kitchen.

“Yongbok-ah, I’m the one making the smoothie. I know how to serve the smoothie I made. Hyunjin, if you’re so desperate to help, why don’t you go fold the laundry or something?”

Hyunjin groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

“Why am I suddenly the errand boy in my own house?”

Minho appeared in the doorway, smoothie in hand, his expression deadpan.

“Maybe because we’ve been doing all the heavy lifting for months while you were busy, I don’t know, not knowing she was pregnant.” he said, and Hyunjin flinched, clutching his chest like Minho had shot him.

“Okay, low blow.”

“I call it the truth.” Minho smirked.

“Minho hyung and I have carried this team for far too long. You’re going to have to earn your place here, buddy.” Felix said with a grin.

Hyunjin threw his hands up in exasperation and said, “She’s literally my girlfriend! How do I have to earn anything?!”

“George belongs to us, Hyunjin. Now go fold the laundry.” Felix said, waving Hyunjin away.

You burst out laughing, clutching your belly as Hyunjin huffed in annoyance before stomping off. He came back with a basket full of freshly washed and dried clothes, and started folding.

“I’ll fold every piece of laundry in Korea if it means overthrowing these two clowns.”

“You guys are all insane, you know that?” you said, shaking your head.

“We prefer devoted.” Felix grinned.

“Dedicated. Loyal.” Minho nodded.

“Whatever they are, I’ll beat them at it. Just watch.” Hyunjin rolled his eyes but threw you a wink.

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan @hansmic @emilyywhyy @inlovewithstraykids @my-neurodivergent-world @nightmarenyxx @channie4lifeee143127

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hyunjin felix skz lee know fics THIS WAS SO CUTE

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desuwings

2 months ago