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the turn of the seasons | CH. 09

> pairing | idol!lee minho x bsf fem!reader

> chapter word count | 9.2k

> genre | friends to lovers, fluff, smut, pregnancy, the tiniest bit of angst

> warnings | explicit language, smut, drinking, (kinda) drunk sex, fingering, unprotected sex (don't do this) pregnant sex (it leads to this), MDNI.

> ttots masterlist

> A/N | this is one of my favorite chapters, I know it's specially chunky but I couldn't bring myself to split it more than I already did (this being the ending of what was originally the third chapter of the entire work). Anywayyyy, happy reading!

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09. I need to keep up with my baby daddy?!

The party was taking place at a small club you had never been to, reserved only for the members, the crew and their guests. It had Stray Kids achievements plastered all over the walls, a fully open bar, songs that were picked by the members themselves, and a whole bunch of excitement from everyone in attendance.

As Bora and you made your way in, the dance floor was already packed, with Bora making sure you were okay before running straight for it, joining her own friends to jump around to the beat as if that was not her actual job already.

You were grabbing a mocktail for yourself, something colorful with a skz pun as a name, when you spotted her. The woman from the restaurant photos. With your breath caught on your throat, you did your best to move away as fast as possible, finding an empty booth at the very back of the club to hide in and recompose yourself.

So the rumors were true.

You watched as the members started to arrive, some by themselves, some in duos or with other people in tow. Always loud, always cheered on. Minho came in with Seungmin, and both of them made their way straight to the bar, where you had just spotted the mystery girl.

There was a tightness in your chest that you were afraid to name.

Before you could even try to though, you spotted Minho again, he said something to Seungmin and the girl and waved generally towards the club, his eyes scanning around, looking for something. You noticed the moment he found Bora first, starting to cut his way through the crowd to reach her.

You were still following his movements when someone slid in to take a sit across from you, a blonde head blocking your view.

“Noona!”, Felix was excited and already smelled a bit like alcohol, his hairline sweaty from dancing, a huge grin on his face, “can you come control Bora?”

“That’s above my paycheck”, you joke back, trying to keep your focus on the friend in front of you.

As he opens his mouth to speak again, Seungmin is suddenly right behind him, a hand coming to rest on Felix’s shoulder. In tow is the girl. The girl.

“Hey noona, Lino hyung is looking for you”, he lets you know straight away, as Felix makes space for them to scoot into the booth with you as well, coming all the way to your side, as Seungmin sits first and makes space for the girl to sit right in front of you.

She does a polite small bow and you can tell she’s as uncomfortable with the situation as you are. You look back into the crowd to try and find Minho or Bora or Hyunjin or literally anyone you could use as an excuse to get out of there when Seungmin starts talking again.

“You haven’t met Jihye yet, right?”, both you and the girl - Jihye - nod your heads no. He brings his hand laced with hers on top of the table so you could see, before continuing the introduction, “this is my girlfriend, darling, this is Minho hyung’s friend I was telling you about”, you ignore the way Seungmin says the word friend, too occupied masking the surprise on your face, suppressing a relieved breath you really wanted to take.

“You look so pretty, Unnie!”, she says kindly, “Minho oppa had showed me a photo of you but your hair was different”

“Oh no, I’m afraid to ask which one”, you think back to all the terrible photos Minho has of you.

“No, no, nothing bad!”, her eyes go wide but she’s humorous about it, “it was one you sent him a while ago, it came in when we were all having dinner?”

Seungmin laughs at the memory, and adds to her comment, “he kept checking his phone while we ate, we were all teasing him about it but then Changbin hyung noticed that it was you who were texting and suddenly switched sides”.

You roll your eyes, having been informed of Changbin’s shipping antics before. You also now knew exactly what picture he had showed her, and when.

The night the picture of Minho and Jihye was taken, he had left your place after making a delivery of a bunch of his t-shirts he said he was no longer wearing, after you complained about barely having any that fit you comfortably. You had spent part of that evening trying on a few of the ones he brought you, only to find a very old one in the mix, with his old dance crew team name on it. You had chosen that one to take a mirror selfie wearing, sending it to him with the quick text ‘please change my name to y/n (cupcake crew)’.

Now that you think about it, he never really replied to that.

Across the dance floor you lock eyes with Minho, who was right by Bora waving excitedly at you, trying to get your attention. You excused yourself from the rest of the table and started making your way towards the crowd of now very sweaty, maybe inebriated, people.

You recognized a few of the people around your friends as the dancers Bora was hanging out with on the backstage of the concert, a couple of them completely drunk by now - or using the alcohol as an excuse to take some liberties when dancing together. You couldn’t really hear anything over the music, but as you got close enough to Bora, she extended her arm to you and pulled you in to dance with her, your body feeling awkward at first but slowly finding the rhythm to move along.

Minho was constantly nearby. Not really dancing with you, but never being too far off either. When you noticed him glancing at the bar a third time, you figured he probably wanted another drink, so you pointed on that direction and mouthed a “Come with me?”. His response arrived in the way he found first the small of your back, getting closer, and then circling his arm on your waist, as to not get separated while you tried to escape the crowd.

You were surprised about the amount of vodka that went into the drink Minho ordered but as he brought the glass to his lips, the beverage went down smoothly, without a single frown on his part over how strong it must have been. You just got yourself a water that you dawned almost entirely in one go. When was the last time you danced this much? You honestly could not remember.

“You okay?”, he got closer to your ear, to make sure you heard him. The warmth of his breath on your exposed neck sent shivers down your spine. You nodded your head yes, only for him to place a hand down your belly, another wave of goosebumps hitting you, “they okay?”.

“Yes, Min”, you smiled fondly at him, “but I should probably sit for a bit”, you admitted, knowing that when the adrenaline left your body you would be sore all over.

“I’ll get you another water, go sit”, he pointed to an empty booth nearby and you made your way there without any resistance.

You watched from afar as he ordered another drink for him and one more water for you, taking a minute to look around again as well, seeing that the place was now even more packed then when you first arrived, a lot more agitated. There were a few people making out around the dance floor, and you could tell that a lot of the managers and higher ups were willing to turn a blind eye on their employees choices. Seungmin and Jihye were on the other side of where Minho was at, Jihye sitting on one of the stools, back pressed against the bar, Seungmin standing in front of her. They seemed to be having fun, with the boy sporting his typical teasing expression.

It was clear how good of a match they were and you felt silly about the mental breakdown you had over the possibility of Minho getting himself a girlfriend now. When your friend took a sit next to you, sliding the water with the cap already off, you took a sip before deciding to say something.

“I saw the posts about your girlfriend this week”, Minho turned your way so fast you felt a little gust of wind. You didn’t need to look at him to imagine the alarmed face he was pulling, “so imagine how funny it was when Seungmin introduced her as his girlfriend”

“Did you really think I had a girlfriend?”, he sounded offended and you finally turned his way to see the exact expression you had imagined.

“I mean, you could…?”, you masked your real feeling about it with a teasing tone.

He rolled his eyes, refusing to bite into it.

“We noticed the sasaengs before walking in”, he turned to look at the younger couple like you were just a minute before, “Seungmin went in first to avoid any rumors but Jihye tripped so I caught on to her so she wouldn’t fall”, he explained without you needing to ask him to, “Changbin was literally right behind me but that part of the photo they would not post”

“You could’ve said something about it, the internet was eating you alive”, you elbowed his side gently.

“You know I don’t really care about that”, he huffed out, taking another sip of his drink, “and I honestly didn’t think you’d see any of that”

A hand went to your chest, a mocking offense being taken.

“I need to keep up with my baby daddy?!”, he scrunched his nose at you.

“I kind of hate that term, it feels so, I don’t know, detached”

You look at his displeased face and desperately need to make it better, this was supposed to be a fun night for him and you bringing up the rumor, after the week of hate he must’ve received, now was obviously the wrong choice.

You pull out your phone and finds his contact, he leans in to watch what your doing in time to see you pressing save after changing his name from lee minho (stray kids) to lee minho (baby daddy).

“Ya, change it back!”, he tries to snatch the phone from your hand but you pull away in time, only for him to lean more into your space.

“Nope”, you smiled brightly up at him, feeling a bit tipsy without having ingested a single drop of alcohol, happy to have been able to switch his mood quickly.

“You’re so annoying”, but there was no truth in the statement, as he quickly closed the distance in between you for a quick peck on your lips. Your hand flying to his chest to push him back as much as every cell in your body was begging for you to pull him closer.

“We’re in public!”, is all that you said, trying to rationalize that the alcohol was probably guiding his bold decisions.

“No one here cares”, he sits back, pretending nothing happened, “I’m pretty sure most of them already know”

You were going to protest further but an old song you both had danced to together forever ago came up. The two of you immediately standing up and moving towards the dance floor again wordlessly, your hand finding his as bits of the choreography came back to you, the muscle memory kicking in.

One song bled into another and you let yourself be engulfed by the sounds around you, the heat of the bodies moving under the blinking lights. You take your time dancing with Minho, but also slips away to meet Bora and even risks pulling in some of the other dancers around you, having the type of careless fun you rarely allowed yourself to.

At some point one of the dancers starts getting a bit too handsy, and at first you leaned into them, blaming the hormones on how much you were enjoying some riskier touches on your skin. However, as their hands started to squeeze into your skin a bit too forcefully for your liking, you found yourself looking around for a way to detach yourself. Before you could try and detangle from them, Minho was behind you, taking the dancer’s hands away from your waist and replacing it with his.

A sigh of relieve barely left your lips when you saw the dancer stepping away without any resistance, only to be cut short by Minho pulling you more into him, your back completely flushed against his chest, his arms hugging you from behind.

He brings his forehead to rest on your shoulder, and one of your hands goes up to find his bleached hair, your fingers playing with it.

“Thank you”, you say, loud enough for only him to hear. He hums into your skin and you can smell the alcohol in him, mixed with his perfume and something else that you can’t really place.

Minho lifts his head slightly to leave a kiss on the turn of your neck, where it meets your shoulder, “are you having fun?”

You nod and feel him place another kiss, this time a little higher up, just below your ear.

“I like the hair”, he adds, the closest thing to a whisper he could manage with the loud noises around you.

And he’s not slurring his words, but he’s not exactly speaking clearly either, so you move your body to signal you wanted to move and he gives you enough space so you could turn to face him. Bringing both of your arms over his shoulder, his hands tightening around you again, keeping you just as close as before. He was gently swinging your bodies together, not really following the beat of the music, instead finding your own.

Your fingers trace the back of his head and you scan his whole face, taking a moment to try and map out every single strand of hair.

“I like yours too”, you voice it so quietly you are not even sure he heard you, but his eyes were on your lips, half reading them.

He leaned in a little, not closing the gap. Your body reacted, much like it did with the old choreographies, and you closed the rest of the space between you, bringing your lips to his.

He tasted faintly of alcohol, but you’re not too sure if that’s what’s getting you feeling dizzy.

It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was enough for you to hear some hooting around you, Changbin’s voice particularly distinct. A few of the dancers around also teased you two, and you felt like a teenager again, getting lost in a crowd with your crush as your friends egged you on.

He’s the one to break the kiss, keeping you close as he whispers in your ear if you should leave. You nod yes and feel him pulling you away from the dance floor again, signaling one of his managers and going straight to the exit where the drivers were waiting to safely take everyone home.

The ride goes by on a blur, his hands never leave your thighs and his mouth finds temporary stay by attaching itself to your neck, kissing and nibbling the sensitive skin. You play with his hair, one hand also resting on this leg, reacting to his actions and trying to not overthink it too much.

You were having fun. This was part of the having fun, an exception to the rule.

As you arrive at the dorms, you can barely make it onto the elevator before his lips find yours again, hungry, overpowering. You kiss him back like a woman starved. Feel the heat climbing up, starting at the bottom of your stomach and making its way up your chest, neck, mouth.

He types in the code for the apartment without looking, stumbling inside while already placing his hands under your shirt, bunching it up to reveal the most amount of you he could without needing to break apart the kiss. You push him away slowly, intending to just help him undress you, maybe take off your shoes, but he takes a full step away, his back hitting the opposite wall.

Minho is breathing heavily, eyes darting all over you, trying to make sense of the situation. You’re taken back but the change and also tries to calm down, regulating your intake of air.

“I’m sorry”, he rubs his hands on his face, hiding his face from you.

“Hey”, you try to get his attention but, when he doesn’t look up, you step closer again, coaxing his arms down, “it’s okay, Minho”.

His shoulders relax when he looks at you, mouth opening up slightly, as if considering his next words. You take away his chance by getting a little closer, your hands finding his waist now and pushing your cores closer, feeling his hardness against you. He grunts in protest.

“Don’t tease”, he whines when you don’t step back, “we said we wouldn’t…”

You said you shouldn’t. He had just agreed to your terms. But now you were horny and he had been kissing your neck for the past half hour and if you couldn’t feel him it would drive you insane. He could blame the alcohol tomorrow, you could blame hormones or pregnancy brain or literally any other excuse your brain could come up with once the sun was up again. But for now you wanted him.

So you took him.

Mouth finding him neck first, hands reaching further behind him, the base of his back under the shirt, scooting lower to the curve of his butt. He reacted immediately.

The two of you stumbled further in, somehow finding the way to his room. He presses you to the door, too eager to take the few extra steps to the bed where he could properly undress you, so he starts by first just taking off your shirt, lips finding your neck again.

“What is up with you today?” Your hands, however, find his hair and keep him in place, doing the opposite of what your words imply.

He keeps making his way down your neck towards your breasts and for a second you think he won’t reply, but he distancies himself only for long enough to reply.

“I really like your hair”, he says, placing a kiss on your opposite cheek first, before starting to make his way down the other side of you neck, balancing out and, to further prove his point, adding an extra hard nibble to your collarbone, “gives me easy access”

Growing impatient, you pull on his hair to make him meet your lips again, and then bring your hands to his front, starting to unbutton the shirt he’s wearing. He reciprocates by finding the clasp of your bra and undoing it, leaving you bear from the waist up, save for your necklaces. You start to undo his belt, the shirt hanging open on his arms, but before you can completely free him, he turns you around so you’re flushed against the door.

His lips find the back of your neck, his breath making you shiver under the contact. He pushes you even closer to the wall, while also pulling your waist back, making you grind against his erection. He places a few more kisses before allowing for a little bit of space, making sure you kept touching your ass to him, but bringing his hands up to undo the clasps of your jewelry. He’s not hasty with it either, taking his time to undo each of the necklaces one by one but, in true Minho fashion, letting the pieces fall to the ground once he managed to free you from them.

Once he was satisfied, he shimmers out of his shirt and flushes his chest to your back again, lips, teeth and tongue to your skin while slowly undoing the front of your pants, just enough to slip his hand down your front.

His fingers reach your heat and the first contact makes you gasp, head falling down to rest on his shoulder and, consequentially, giving him even more access to your neck. His movements start slow, almost lazy. He circles the points where you want him to put pressure on, enough to make you squirm but not enough to get you off properly.

You try to hold onto his arm, to signal you need a little more, but he just chuckles against your naked shoulder while keeping his touch on your clit featherlike. It’s only when he deems you’ve suffered enough that he brings his hand further down, a finger starting to circle your entrance. You get on the tips of your toes, thighs separating on instinct to try and give him more access, but he keeps on teasing for longer than you expected him to.

When he finally slides a finger in, you are arching and grinding back shamelessly. He moves in and out a few times, slowly, before finding your clit again and resuming the teasing circling that, making you whine again in protest. You take one of your palms that had been resting on the wall, helping support you, and reach behind you, finding the place where his pants seem tighter. You squeeze him only once before he’s sliding his hand away from your heat and holding your core, keeping you near him as he flips the two of you and pretty much manhandles you into his bed.

He follows behind, the weight of his body comfortable as he presses himself agains you, kissing your neck and making his way down your back, all the way to the bottom of your spine. He slides your pants down and you hear him do the same to his, but doesn’t dare to move, still stunned at the change of of place. He kisses your butt, nibbling on the sensible skin, and separates your tights while also pulling your hips up, giving him access to you from behind.

You feel his tongue sweep against you but you can’t take the teasing any longer, pushing your hips back as to indicate him that you need more, a lot more. His chest is pressed to your back again in no time, and you feel his hardness grinding against the back of your ass.

A moan escapes you as there is finally a little pressure where you need it most, and it encourages you to slower his movements, angle his body again so you can support yourself more on your knees while still keeping your chest flushed on the mattress.

Minho only separates himself from you to take off his boxers and slide your panties down, not bothering to take them all the way off. When he grinds against you again, you feel first the wetness, a mixture of him and you that was dragged out for too long. But he doesn’t enter you yet, instead grinding a few more times against your lower lips.

You’re no longer responsible for the sounds escaping you, a mixture of pleadings and whines that sound like music to his ears. He keeps alternating between meeting his chest to you so he can kiss the back of your exposed neck, and pushing himself away to see how you look under him, the shape of your ass where it meets your waist, your hair growing wild by the second. The vision alone is enough to almost make him cum, and that’s when he realizes he can’t keep this up much longer.

“I think you were made for me”, the words leave his lips before he can stop them, and Minho can only hope you’re too distracted to understand him.

It takes you a moment to place the meaning to the words but, by the time you do, he’s already angling himself to slide inside you, his other hand going around your body to also find your clit and start circling it again. You’d process the words lately, now you knew only of pleasure and bliss.

His pace is slow, his strokes drawn out and he almost slides all the way out every time he pulls back. You arch your back and seek more contact, but he keeps you steady in place.

When you orgasm hits you, it comes almost out of nowhere, the time he took with you crashing down in pleasure all at once. You are still shaking under him when he slides off and flip you over.

He doesn’t slide in again straight away, taking his time kissing you slowly, placing kisses on your cheeks and jaw while you tried to steady your breath again. When you’ve mostly came down from the wave of pleasure, he angles one of your legs up, holding the back of your thigh, and only then starts sliding in again.

The overstimulation is almost too much but you power through, seeking his lips for comfort. He moans with your mouths still attached when he starts moving again, finding the same slow pace as before.

You’d almost call it lazy was it not for the perfect angles he kept hitting. You start to feel you stomach clench again, a new wave building faster this time that your body knew where it led.

His hands explore your sides, your breasts, your neck, anywhere they can reach. You chose to place yours flat agains his back, nails tentatively scratching, not hard enough to leave a mark, but purposeful to make goosebumps rise on his skin.

When his moves grow a little faster, you know he’s approaching his own orgasm, and you cross your legs behind him to keep him close while also giving you a little extra pressure. You reach your peak again, biting his shoulder and the feeling overpowers you, and that’s what sends him over the edge too, making him spill so much you can feel it inside you.

He quits his movement but doesn’t slide off, instead pulling apart to study your face. You do the same with him.

Minho’s eyes shine brighter then you’ve ever seen them. There’s so much adoration there, although you wouldn’t be able to name the emotion during that moment. Little do you know the exact same is reflected on your face. He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, and then to your cheek.

“I love the new hair”, his smile spreads on his face slowly, “you look very cute”

“Cute is not what I was going for”, you antagonize him on instinct, “maybe wild, sexy?”

“It is sexy”, he lowers himself closer to you and you place a kiss on his nose, another on his cheek, “I don’t know about wild though” and you bite his cheek. It’s gentle but still harder than you usually allow yourself. He smiles onto it.

“I can be wild”, you pout as you let go of his skin and he smiles at you, amused.

“Sure, baby”, the nickname spills out, both of you pretend you’re not affected by it, “my wild baby momma”

“Oh my god it does sound bad”, you laugh, taking the bait to change subjects.

“I told you so”, he places a final kiss on your cheek before pushing himself back, finally sliding out of you to go find a towel to clean you two up.

He takes his time making both of you comfortable and you don’t know how he still has the energy to do so, considering he went from a concert to a party to having slow intense sex with you over the last few hours. But he tucks you in with a hoodie and new underwear you didn’t even know he had for you at his place, and only slides beside you after also changing into a new pair of boxers and some sweatpants.

You fall asleep holding each other as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

—

You wake up to the sound of an alarm, a body shifting beside yours.

A grunt leaves your body as you felt your current pillow scooting away to cut the sound coming from the phone, and you reach for him without opening your eyes. Your pillow comes back to you and you snuggle your head on the warm spot again.

“Sorry”, Minho’s voice is raspy and you move up and down with his chest as he speaks, “I have to get up soon”

“Noooooo”, you whine, fully hiding your face on him for a moment before giving up and opening your eyes, looking up at your favorite human pillow.

“Hey”, he smiles fondly at you, a hand coming up to meet your face, adjusting your hair that must’ve been all over the place.

“How do you look okay?”, you squinted at him, noticing how rested he seemed, “even I feel hungover”

“I didn’t drink that much”, he states and you have to stop yourself from overanalyzing everything he said last night, when you were sure the alcohol was what made him bold.

“I didn’t drink at all”, is your retort, and Minho kisses your forehead, half as a reassurance, half as a way to hide the smile threatening the corners of his lips.

One of his hands goes over to rest on your bump under the covers, “good morning to you too”, he says, quietly.

A beat goes by in silence before he speaks again.

“It’s kind of crazy that there really is someone in there”

“Did you just figure that out now?”, you tease.

“You know what? Maybe”, he admits, “feeling Bun move last night really drove the point”

“You are not calling the baby Bun”, you detach from your place at his chest to look up at him, “that is not their nickname”.

He opens his mouth to fight back but, as if on cue, his phone dings a few time with messages coming through, and he groans before extending his arm to pick it up. You see that the texts are coming from the Stray Kids group chat but don’t try to read them at all, instead choosing to snuggle back to him, enjoying what is bound to be a short lived comfort. His little amused chuckle catches your attention thought, and he turns the phone your way so you can read what he’s seeing.

hwang hyunjin changed the group’s name to “Bun uncle squad”

A myriad of texts followed, a mixture of confusion from some of the boys, and acknowledgment from the ones that were there when the name was coined.

“Might be too late for that”, and you decide to ignore Minho - and the rest of his friends for that matter, and close your eyes again, trying to keep your own mind of attaching the silly name to your dear little bump.

He types away for a while longer and you almost drift off back to sleep, the gentle raising of his chest swaddling you into comfort.

“I really should get up”, he runs his hand down your back after he finishes replying to the texts, and you groan as a complaint, “are you coming again tonight?”

You had not intended to and he knew it, Bora would not be able to come with as she was also flying back to Japan later today for work, and you didn’t feel like going by yourself or worse - with people you didn’t really know and had to switch on your more outgoing personality with.

He took your silence as an answer and nudged you so you could look up at him again.

“Please come?”, Minho’s hand goes back to your belly, making small circles, “I want to see if they dance again”

You roll onto your back, hands coming to cover your face, “you can’t just say stuff like that”, you groan, as he laughs, knowing that meant he won and you’d be going to see him again.

“Jihye couldn’t come to the concert yesterday so she will also go alone today”, he adds, “You can hang out with her, I think you guys will get along”

You consider the possibility and decides that it doesn’t sound too bad. He phones Seungmin to get Jihye’s contact and share it with you, so you could text her and figure out a way that you two could ride together to the venue.

“She’s a Lee as well?” you ask, once you get her number.

“Yeah, we’re actually related”, he says casually as you finally let him get up, sitting and stretching on the side of the bed, with his back turned at you and therefore completely missing how your mouth is hanging open.

“What do you mean she’s related to you?”

“Our grandmas are cousins”, he gets up, still shirtless, to go to his bathroom, but you are so blindsided by the information that you even forget to check him out as you usually would.

“We didn’t really know each other though”, he goes on, his voice a little muffled by the sound of the shower starting to run before he gets in, “only figured it out once they started going out”.

Throwing the comforter to the side, you also make your way inside the bathroom, the steam starting to fill the room.

“I can’t believe I thought you were dating your cousin”, you laugh in disbelief, and he matches the sound with his own cackle, opening the shower door so you could step in before him, the two of you wordlessly embracing as if sharing the warm water was a daily occurrence.

It’s comforting as he allows you to put shampoo on his hair, brushing it to all sides to make silly sculptures. It’s relaxing as he slides the soap across your back, dropping chaste kisses on your shoulders. It’s second nature to brush away water from his face, fingers tracing his eyebrows, his high cheekbones, his lips. He hums snippets of songs and you follow along, not caring about getting the lyrics right. It’s not sexual, but it’s sensual. The care you had for each other showing up on every lingering touch.

And as you step out of the shower, you admit to yourself that this is not casual at all, and that every ounce of self control you had not to fall for your best friend were long thrown out the window.

—

[5:42PM] lee jihye (ksm gf): almost there!!

Jihye picked you up with her car. The girl had also spent the night at the dorms, and Seungmin’s place was just a couple blocks away from Minho’s, so it made it easier to figure out how to meet. You made casual conversation on the way to where the concert was taking place, and you were glad to find out she also had a calm personality, the worry over needing to keep your energy up all night slowly melting away.

She told you about how she was still studying to be a doctor, how she met Seungmin, how she usually led a very private and quiet life, and the whirlwind that had been the few months they had been together so far. You ended up sharing that you had believed the rumors at first, and was relieved to hear her laugh alongside your story.

Minho was right, the two of you did get along.

As you arrived at the venue, you found yourselves being guided to a different area than the previous day, a bit further away from the main stage, but more central on the arena.

The show started off smoothly, just like the day before, and you allowed yourself to take more breaks throughout it to sit down, the ache on your lower back a constant reminder of you overdoing it the day before. Just like Minho hoped for, as soon as his solo stage began, your little one started moving as if prompted.

You placed a careful hand on your bump, mentally scolding them for already picking dad as their favorite parent. You were not sure if Minho knew where you were sat this time, but as the final notes of his song hit, you felt as if he was looking directly at you from the center of the stage.

Jihye didn’t ask any questions, and you assumed she knew as much as Seungmin did, so when your eyes met after Minho had left the stage and the baby was being particularly active, you silently asked her if she wanted to feel it - and she happily did.

She squealed over how strong they seemed to be, and made sure to ask you a few times through the rest of the concert if you were doing okay, never imposing too much, but making sure you knew she was paying attention. You decided right then and there that if Seungmin and her split up, you’d be keeping her.

It was towards the end of the show when you noticed something was off.

Rare were the times when Minho missed a beat, but as a particular grueling choreography reached its peak, you could tell he was falling a bit behind.

You kept your eyes always on him, and the more you did, the clearer it was that his leg was bothering him. A couple of the members seemed to have caught onto it as well, with Chan and Jisung discreetly checking on him. The fans didn’t seem to notice though, and you hoped that your over caring nature was taking the best of you.

But when the members split up in between two carts to go around the venue, Minho got close enough to your session that there was no doubt left on your mind that he was running on adrenaline and stubbornness.

“Minho’s hurt”, you whispered to Jihye, trying to not draw attention from the people around you.

She followed your gaze to watch him as well, and squeezed your hand as if to signal you she had heard you.

“It’s probably nothing”, she kept a steady tone, but the fact that she didn’t deny it straight away made you worry even more.

Seungmin found the two of you first, and signaled your position with his head to Minho, sharing the same cart as him. Minho took no time to find your eyes, and you mouthed a “are you hurt?” that he only denied with his head, keeping his movement as discreet as possible.

But you saw the way he was not keeping up with the loose choreography as much, leaning onto the railings of the car to interact with Stay more than he usually did. When they reached the end of the ride, Hyunjin had his arm around his hyung as well, the final confirmation you needed.

They still had a couple more songs to go, but you couldn’t stay still, too anxious to be by his side and check on him. Jihye could tell you were antsy and suggested you start heading out backstage before the concert was over, to not need to wait for the crowd to thin out before going to meet the group.

It takes the two of you almost the entirety of the final songs to reach the artist’s area, even with a manager guiding you through the maze of corridors. You see the TVs they place for the staff playing the end of the member’s ments, but you also see how everyone seems tense, not failing to notice one of the tour doctors on stand by.

“It’s Minho, isn’t it?”, you ask the manager that had walked you to the back, and she gave a firm but small nod with her head.

You try to stay out of the way, you really did. But as you hear Chan’s angry voice getting nearer, you start marching onto the corridor to meet them halfway.

Minho has Changbin on one side and Hyunjin on the other, his weigh fully supported by his team members. He locks eyes with you as soon as you turn the corner and by the time you’re close enough to him he’s struggling to keep a reassuring small smile on his face. Chan is still barking orders and hurrying the medical team, and in the midst of the voices around you, you gathered that Minho tripped badly while walking off stage during one of the breaks but insisted he could still go on and finish the concert.

The only member to have witnessed how bad the fall was, was Jeongin, who kept quiet at his hyung’s request. Now the maknae was also being scolded about it though, and you did your best to not look his way either, as to not show how pissed off you actually were.

You stood by the sidelines as the medical team positioned Minho in a way they could examine him, and flinched with him as he hissed and groan through the pain. His hand reaching out at your direction, your body reacting by stepping closer and placing both of your hands on his, who squeezed you immediately.

“We need to get you to a hospital”, the medical staff reached the conclusion and Minho’s head fell back in annoyance. You squeeze his hand again, trying to convey a silent scolding.

The managers talk it over to the corner, giving you a couple of minutes alone with him. The rest of the members had scattered to meet their other guests, doing their best to mask the situation about Minho’s injury. You gently slap his shoulder, still standing beside him, who’s sitting on a wheelchair now.

“You should’ve stepped down”, you say quietly, fighting the urge to comfort him by letting your annoyance show instead.

“It was the last concert, I did okay”, he sounds exhausted, “it’s just a sprained ankle, it happened before”

“You always do okay”, you soften your voice, “but you could’ve gotten seriously hurt”

“But I didn’t”

“You don’t know that yet”, you push back

“I would already be at the hospital if they thought it was serious”, he looked around at the managers still scattering to figure out the best way to take him there without being noticed, “they’re just doing it to be safe”, he rolls his eyes.

“Well they better”, you were about to keep nagging him when a manager signaled that you’d be leaving soon.

“Come with me?”, his voices the request as if there was any way you could possibly leave his side now. You nod and step aside so they can start wheeling him out, taking him on a cart through a series of paths you’re not sure you passed before.

You helped him get in and out of the car, ignoring his protests as he was clearly in a lot more pain now that his body was not warm from the stage anymore.

As he was taken in for the doctor to examine and x-ray his leg, you were left alone at the waiting room, texting his parens about his current location - as you knew he was meant to meet them up for dinner after the concert was over. His mom was worried but glad that you were with him, and you promised to keep them updated. You’re still replying to their questions when a familiar voice calls your name.

“Y/n? Is that you?”, you look up to see your doctor, having completely overlooked the fact that you were just at a different wing of the hospital you have been frequenting to check up on your baby.

“Oh hi Dr. Seon”, you start getting up to politely bow but she waves you off.

“Is everything okay?”, she asks carefully, looking around to see if there was anyone with you.

“Yeah, my uhh…”, you hesitated. Friend didn’t sound quite right, and baby daddy would raise the questions you so far managed to avoid when visiting your doctor, “I’m just waiting for someone”, you settled.

“Nothing serious, I hope?”, you nod your head while smiling, not trusting yourself to say the wrong thing. This was the type of situation where you had to be mindful of Minho being a public persona, “well that’s good then, did you get-”, she’s cut off from finishing her question as he comes back, still on a wheelchair, with one of his managers coming along. They both give her small bows while you turn your full attention to the arriving pair.

“Is he okay?”, you ask the manager directly, not trusting Minho to reply honestly.

“He has to be quiet this week”, he eyes Minho sternly, as if this was the end of a previous discussion, “and go through physical therapy for a couple more weeks, but he’ll live”

Minho rolls his eyes, “stop talking about me as if I’m not here”

“Stop pulling stupid stunts like that and we might”, you say back, not bothering to look down at him but still taking his hand in yours when he reaches for you, “Sorry Dr. Seon, this is-”

Minho recognizes the name and fully switches his attention to your previous conversation partner.

“Lee Minho”, he bows again, and she reciprocates. The manager scatters off to fill in some paperwork left and you awkwardly shift on your feet, not sure on how to proceed with the conversation.

“I hope you get well soon”, your doctor politely points to his leg, now inside a thick orthopedic boot.

“This is nothing”, he smiles at her, and you squeeze his hand again so he stops downplaying his hurt, “You’re Y/n’s doctor, right?”

Dr. Seon sneaks a glance at you before confirming it.

You had mentioned to her before that you were very private and was not sharing about your pregnancy with many people yet. She never asked about who the baby’s father might be, and you were grateful to not have to lie about it to her. You also never took anyone in with you for your appointment, going either alone or having Minho’s mom wait outside while you went in for your regular check ups.

“Do you think you can check on y/n while we’re here?”, you widen your eyes at his bold request, immediately jumping into an apologetic stance to make sure your doctor didn’t take any disrespect in that.

“Of course, I just finished my shift here and was about to go back to the maternity wing anyway”, she smiles at the two of you, making it a point to rest her eyes on your interlocked fingers before giving you a wink, “if you’re okay with waiting a few minutes for me, I’ll come find you guys”

“Actually, can we maybe wait inside a room?”, he pushes, but now you know he’s worried about getting recognized if he hangs out on the waiting area for much longer. Even with a mask and a beanie covering most of his face, he was still a very recognizable person, specially with the lightly colored hair he was sporting.

The manager gets back and Minho assures him you’d be able to drive the two of you back, so you exchange pleasantries, figure out where they’d bring his car to, and follow a nurse to a different hospital wing and into a room you were already familiar with, Minho staying in his wheelchair while you took a sit on the examination table as you had a few times before.

Minho’s eyes are darting all over the room, at the machines he has never seen before, the pictures scattered around depicting different stages of a pregnancy, the wall of baby photos at a corner - showing what you assumed were all the previous patients of your doctor.

“A bit intense, right?”, you pull his attention and he wheels himself closer to you, “it took me a while to get used to it too”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here with you”, he places a hand right above your knee and you rest yours on top of his, a quiet reassurance.

“Well, you are now”, your smile honestly, “so please take care of yourself, alright?”, your eyes darting to his hurt foot.

He rubs circles on your leg and goes quiet, deciding on his next words.

“Did they dance?”, you look at him quizzically, and he adds, “at the concert, did Bun dance again?”, and he points to your bump.

You’re stunned into silence and he avoids your eyes, sensing how the gears are turning inside your head, “you did not push yourself to be on stage just so the baby could kick”.

His shy smile gives it away.

“Minho!”, you slap his hand away from you, “you’re unbelievable”

“Well”, he continues, ignoring the clear disapproval on your tone, “did they?”

You frown at him before looking away defeated, “yes they did”

He smiles brightly, his hand going to fully rest on your belly now.

“I knew they would”, his thumb brushes up and down and it takes you all your might to not completely melt under his touch.

Your doctor chooses that moment to walk in, taking a brief pause at the door as she eyes the way Minho has his hand possessively on you, and smiles knowingly, keeping her best professional stance as she winks at you and walks over to the table to help you adjust.

She goes through the same questions as aways, ignoring your repeated apologies at the late hour and the spontaneous appointment you sprung on her. You had a sonogram scheduled for 4 days later, so she assures you over and over that this was actually saving her time, as she was already at the hospital on call anyway, and it was a quiet evening.

Minho takes this moment to ask all of the questions he has as well, but your doctor is patient with him, and you have to swallow 10 more apologies on his behalf before you finally get to the part where you have to lay down so she can first feel around your bump to then spread around the cold gel needed for the ultrasound.

You can feel Minho buzzing in anticipation beside you as she starts moving the machinery around your belly, finding the best view of your baby. When she turns her monitor to you, their little face and shape are even clearer than last time. You can now make out their hands and the bend of their legs. As she moves the device around, you get a glimpse of their feet and that’s what finally brings tears to your eyes again.

Minho’s hand is on yours immediately, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him, too mesmerized by the sight of your little baby. He brings your hand to his lips and kisses the back of it, trying very hard to keep his own emotions in check.

“So those are the weapons of destruction”, you try to joke but your voice sounds muffled even to your own ears.

As if they heard you, Minho’s spawn kicks you up, right through your ribs, you let out an ‘oof’ before turning to your doctor.

“I swear they’re trying to mince my internal organs”, and she laughs at you, guaranteeing that it’s completely normal, and it’s good that your baby seems to be so active now.

She checks measurements and moves the view around a few more times before speaking again, “would you guys like to know the gender?”

You suck in a breath and Minho ceases the movement of his hand, that had been playing with your fingers the whole time. You finally turn to look at him, trying to gouge how he felt about the question. He mirrors your expression and he’s not giving up, letting the decision fall to you.

“I kind of want to…”, you start, voice small and uncertain, giving him time to stop you.

“Oh thank goodness”, he lets out a relieved breath before realizing he expressed too much and widening his eyes, his hands resuming the movement on yours, “I’d be okay not knowing if that’s what you wanted but I really really want to know”

You chuckle fondly before giving you doctor a thumbs up, and as she changes the view of her monitor one final time, she smiles big at you guys.

“It seems like you’re having a healthy little girl!”

You look to Minho in time to see his eyes well up with tears, and reach out to stroke his face, with him leaning into your touch.

The silence sets in and your doctor steps out to give you a minute by yourselves, but no words are enough and the quiet seems more fitting for the moment.

You clean yourself up from the ultrasound gel and when you two step - and roll - outside, she once again hands you a couple printed copies of your new sonogram and lets you know she’ll e-mail all the rest, as well as getting in contact for your next appointment.

There’s no trouble getting his car keys left by the manager at the reception or finding the car on the parking lot, and you help him get in on the passenger side before driving out and starting to make your way back home.

“Can I sleep at yours?”, he breaks the silence.

“Sure”, you agree straight away.

“It’s just that I don’t want to be scolded anymore today”, he adds, as if he needs to keep explaining himself.

“Bold of you to assume I’m done scolding you”, you don’t need to look at him to imagine the indignant look on his face.

“But it all worked out”, he insists.

“By worked out you mean you’re wearing a silly boot and going to physical therapy right before your comeback”, you sneak a look to his face when you stop at a red light.

“Yeah, but because of that we know that Bun’s a girl”, he smile brightly, no shame at all. You can’t help how your lips try to form a smile.

“You’re impossible”, you look back to the road, partially because that’s how you drive safely, but partially to try and hide the fondness on your face, “we could have waited a few more days. Also, stop calling her Bun”

“Maybe”, he gives in, and you don’t try to understand if he means the waiting or the nickname, but doesn’t bother deciphering it as you knew it was pointless.

The silence stretches on again, and you allow your mind to wonder for what the future held before an overwhelming realization hits you.

“Oh my god she’s not even born yet and you’re already her favorite”, you mumble in horror.

He studies your face but is clear that he finds the affirmation amusing.

“I’m not her favorite”, his voice is soft, tempting.

“But you are!”, your pitch goes high, “she started moving for you, I can tell she likes you best, she’s literally inside of me, trust me on this”

“I don’t think that’s it”, he usually matches your dramatics, but this time he keeps his tone kind. You sneak another look at him, he’s keeping his eyes on the road as well, a small smile gracing his lips, “she just knows how to have me wrapped around her finger already”

Just like her mom, he completes, in thought.

> a/n | Oof this was a long one... Can anyone guess what was happening out in the real world when I was writing this? lol (it was the MAMAs, btw). Inspiration is everywhere, I guess, but also Minho better never get hurt again because it hurts my soul. I can't wait to read what you guys think about this one, I'm never confident on writing fluff (or smut, if I'm honest), so this fic is a little bit of a writing challenge for myself, and I'm always happy to listen to your thoughts on it! > taglist is open!

> taglist | @leeknowscatsooniereal @ihrtlix @straysandstays @xallyouneedislovexx @mysticetti @abominablesnowman24 @i-bitch-you-bitch @w1shyouback @shortcake-whoops @sugarcoathan @scarlettuce-lettuce @rainierii @geni-627 @unemployedcarat @seungminnieinthebuilding @luvvvivi @leoskeipilover @onlydisconopanic @tsunderelino @beppybeesnuggets @makaira-nina2005 @linopotato @mieuseum @minghaosimp @hanniebunch @testingspider @moon-1307 @bunbunbl0gs @skzsmylife @calculatingblightsellsword @euonna @bironment

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