winter rose
your best friend, minho, takes you on a weekend trip in the mountains after you get dumped a week before valentine's day
pairing: bff!soft dom!minho x fem!reader genre: fluff, hurt/comfort (mentally + physically), smut content: bffs to lovers, one bed trope, kissing, minho gets pants-ed (lovingly), dry humping, fingering, unprotected sex (p in v) word count: 6.5k a/n: blonde lee know has a chokehold on me. i know he’s so bad at sports but for some reason i feel like he’d be good at snowboarding. idk let me have this. everyone writes mean dom lee know but i love the idea that he’s soft with the people he loves. minimally proofread. this is a (late) valentine's day present, i hope you enjoy ♡ ♡ m.list
The snowy mountains come into focus as you’re riding in the passenger seat of Minho’s car. The car radio is playing some old indie rock band you like, and the windows are cracked slightly to let a cool breeze in. You look over at Minho, his blonde strands of hair swaying underneath his beanie, and everything feels much better than it did a week ago.
Because a week ago, you found out your boyfriend was cheating on you. A week before Valentine’s Day. You’d been with him for a couple of years, and even considered moving in together, until you found out. It shattered you, of course it did, but one phone call later your best friend was at your doorstep with pudding and tissues to console you.
Minho was always there for you. From grade school to college to now, there was never a doubt in your mind that if you needed him, he’d come. Even when the two of you were in relationships, you took the space you needed out of respect for your partners but always made an effort to hang out every once in a while. Your ex didn’t like him, said he was cold and made bad jokes. But that’s just Minho.
He looks over at you and turns the radio down. Your temple is pressed to the glass and you’re staring blankly at the passing trees.
“You okay?” he asks, keeping his eyes on the road.
“Yeah,” you let out with a sigh, looking over to him and cracking a shy smile. “I’m just excited for this weekend.” He reaches over to grab your hand and give it a light squeeze.
His presence alone has been your sole source of comfort the past week, coming over after work almost daily with takeout in hand and a box of tissues. Most of the time you don’t really talk, you just sit together on the couch and watch movies until you’re ready to go to sleep.
“Try not to think about it too much, yeah?” he says, grabbing your coffee from the cup holder and handing it to you. You smile at him, his kindness always catching you off guard but never taken for granted by you. The little things matter, you think to yourself.
The car pulls down a dirt road and you drive a couple of miles before reaching the cabin. It’s a quaint log cabin, with a good size deck and a cozy fireplace. It’s older, but charming and cozy. Plus, the owners just installed a hot tub on the back deck with a beautiful view of the snowy mountains. You told Minho the hot tub was non-negotiable, and he complied.
You step into the cozy atmosphere, the lights flickering on as you take in the space. It’s really small. Which is what you get when you book a trip during Valentine’s Day weekend with only a couple days notice. Your eyes flick from the kitchen to the small sofa, up to the loft overhead where you see the bed taking up most of the space up there.
“Minho, where am I sleeping?” You ask him as you realize there’s no way there’s another bedroom in this cabin.
“You can sleep upstairs, I’ll take the couch,” he says smiling as he lugs your duffel bag over his head to put in the loft.
“Minho, you’re taking me on this trip, at least take the bed,” you complain to him. That sofa fits maybe two people, and you know it’ll kill his neck if he’s on it all weekend. “I’m small enough to fit on that tiny ass couch anyway.”
“We can switch off, just take it tonight and I’ll take it tomorrow.” He squeezes your shoulders and smiles, as he continues to lug his bag and some groceries in. You offer to help, but of course, he declines and tells you to lay out on the couch. You pull out your phone for some doom scrolling, but sure enough the tiny letters at the top say “No Signal”. He knew if you had internet access you’d spend all weekend obsessing over what your ex was doing, who he was doing it with.
Minho finishes unpacking his things into the kitchen and storage chest in the living area and settles down with you on the couch. You lean your head on his shoulder and he lets out a sigh. “Thank you for doing this for me,” you say quietly once the silence started getting comfortable.
“That’s what friends are for,” he says back, planting a kiss on the top of your head. This kind of physical affection was nothing new to the two of you, often getting mistaken for being a couple in public. You never corrected anyone, but it made you giggle a little bit. You showed it much less if either of you were in relationships, but became a lot touchier if you were sad. It always made you feel better knowing he’d never shy away from you when you really needed it.
As the sky started to darken, and you both had comfortably showered and settled into pjs, Minho got started on dinner. Bulgogi and rice with a side of cucumber salad, one of your comfort meals. He was an incredible cook, he knew how to make everything taste perfect and timed everything so it all came out the perfect temperature when it was time to eat.
You followed him like a puppy, hovering over him and resting your chin on his shoulder. He moved around you with ease, sometimes moving you out of the way so he didn’t hit you as he turned. You tried to sneak a few bites in, but he always smacked your hand out of the way.
“Ay, not yet!” he said as he playfully shooed you away. You whined a bit, but moved to the other side of the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine and pour into glasses for each of you.
The air shifts when you sit down to eat. He knows what’s on your mind, and he tries to talk about your plans for the weekend to distract you. It helps some, until you stop talking and it feels even more awkward.
“You deserve much, much better than whatever that guy had to offer,” he mentions, like he already knows your mind has slipped back into thinking of your ex. You realize how little time you’ve spent with Minho the past few years, and you feel a tinge of guilt.
“I’m sorry I haven’t really tried to see you,” you say apologetically. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m just using you because I’m lonely or something.”
“Don’t apologize, I know how it is. Plus, that guy hated me,” he lets out a laugh. “I’m surprised I got to see you at all. I’m just glad we’re here now.” You admire the way he’s able to say things so matter-of-factly, like nothing ever bothers him. You intend to adopt his mindset for the weekend, and maybe even the foreseeable future.
You help Minho clean up dinner and when you start to settle again, he leans close to you and whispers, “Last one in the hot tub has to make breakfast.” You let out a gasp and run up to the loft to change into a bathing suit, and he sprints to the bathroom. He always has a trick up his sleeve.
You meet at the glass door that leads to the deck and you both stop to look outside. It’s freezing, and the hot tub is at least 20 feet across the deck. You turn to him and you both smile, lunging for the door handle at the same time. You were not losing this.
You’re both shoving each other as your bare feet patter on the wood deck. He reaches the steps before you do, and you tug his swim shorts down and slip past him before he can make it in.
“Ya! That’s so unfair,” he laughs, splashing water at you as he pulls his shorts back up and sits down.
“C’mon, you know you don’t want my burnt ass eggs in the morning,” you sputter out, laughing with him.
He relaxes in the seat next to you, your thighs brushing his. You slouch a bit to get as much of your body in the warm, bubbly water as possible. It’s incredibly relaxing, your shoulders feeling looser already as you look up at all the stars in the sky and just exist alongside him.
Minho lets out a long sigh next to you. “You know, I think I really needed this too,” he says. You tilt your head to face him and study his expression. He looks relaxed, but like there’s something he’s not telling you.
“Trouble in paradise?” you ask him, referring to his own relationship. He and his girlfriend have been on again off again for what feels like a decade at this point.
“Uh…I’ve been single for about six months now,” he says. You jerk your head up, and your jaw drops. Six months? Has it really been that long since you last spoke?
“Minho! Why didn’t you tell me?” you exclaim, giving him a playful slap to the shoulder. “I would’ve been there for you!”
“It’s fine, I’m over it now. I had a lot of things to think through on my own.” He’s holding eye contact with you, and you scan his face for any sign he might be lying. He’s so damn hard to read, always making it seem like he’s okay even when he isn’t.
“Still, I’m sorry to hear about it. I…liked her.”
“Liar.”
“No, seriously, she was…nice.”
“You groaned the last time we got back together.”
“I just didn’t like how you kept going back to her.” Your voice is softer now, like you didn’t want him to fully hear you. “Like she’d dump you, and then come running back and apologize like it made up for all the hurt she caused. She didn’t deserve you.”
He doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He rests his elbow on the edge of the tub to fully face you, and his hand comes up to trace circles on your shoulder. He takes a deep breath like he’s nervous for what he’s about to say next.
“She tried calling me a few weeks ago. I didn’t answer. I think I’ve been done for a long time now, I just needed some clarity.” He’s smiling now, and you can tell a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.
“As long as you’re happy, that’s all I care about,” you smile back at him. He scoots closer to pull you into a hug, and you feel yourself relax even further into him. His shoulders feel firmer than the last time you saw each other. He even dyed his hair blonde. You wonder if anything else has changed about him, too.
“I’m happy when I’m with you,” he whispers to you, and for the first time all week, you feel like everything will be okay.
You wake up to the smell of eggs, not burning, and fresh coffee being made below you. The loft setup was neat, you could look straight through the massive windows and see the mountains towering over the cabin, or lean against the railing and watch Minho cooking. This morning you chose the latter.
He was humming to himself and dancing a bit, swaying his hips and moving his shoulders to whatever rhythm was in his head. You liked watching him being his goofy self, not a care in the world, despite the heavier conversations you’ve had recently.
“Don’t burn the eggs,” you call down, still groggy from sleep. He looks up at you, his startled expression turning into a smile.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” he chirps, ears turning red at the fact that you probably caught him dancing. “Breakfast is ready.”
You gather yourself, brush your teeth, and throw on warmer clothes before going downstairs. The food is warm and delicious, and you’re silently glad to be taken care of. Minho is always so attentive, and it’s nice being the one taken care of for a change.
“What’s the plan for today?” you ask him, stuffing your mouth with eggs.
He responds with a shrug. “Whatever you want to do!” For being such a good planner, he was still willing to let loose and go with the flow. You appreciated him for not coming up with any kind of strict schedule for the two of you.
You both settled on going for a morning walk in town before skiing at the local resort. The town was a quaint ski town, with lots of tourists during the winter months. The shops were older, Tudor-style buildings nestled in the low valley between the mountains. A light layer of snow coated the buildings, and the atmosphere was calm despite there being more people than usual.
The two of you just strolled around, making your way through some of the shops. It started getting crowded in the late morning, so Minho suggested taking a stroll through the park. It being the middle of winter, the paths were clear of people and only a light layer of snow on the ground.
“This is nice,” you say quietly, referring to the quiet environment and the surrounding park. In the springtime, the gardens bloomed and the sun shone brightly on the area. But it was still nice, even without the flowers' pretty colors.
Minho stopped at a rose bush on the side of the path. The roses had a dusting of snow on them, and you were curious how they had survived so long. He reached his hand out and plucked one of the stems with a red rose attached to it. He twirled it between his fingers, and gently handed it to you.
“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, careful to avoid the thorns as you took the rose from him.
“Delicate yet strong. Like you,” he said nonchalantly, flashing you a smile. You stopped in your tracks for a moment while he kept walking forward. It was such a small gesture, but it meant so much. He still saw you as someone with a lot of strength, despite how broken you’ve felt lately. Minho was good at that.
He kept walking forward as you trailed a few paces behind him. Towards the end of the path he stopped suddenly, turning toward you with wide eyes.
“Do you hear that?” he asked. You shook your head.
He crept closer to the bushes and crouched down. You crouched down with him, unsure of what you were supposed to be looking at. A few moments later a grey tabby cat emerged, and slowly walked towards you two. Minho dipped into his pocket and pulled out a Churu packet, opening it and beckoning the cat closer.
“You just…have those with you?” you asked, puzzled.
“I like making friends with them,” he said, as the cat brushed up against his leg and started eating the treat. Minho the cat whisperer, you thought to yourself. It was endearing seeing him care for such an innocent creature. He scratched the cat's head, cooing at it lovingly. You just looked at him, a wide grin on his face, completely in his element.
And suddenly, you realize this is all you ever wanted. A calm, quiet kind of love. Not one that sneaks up on you, but one that was always there.
You’re standing at the top of the snowy hill, dressed in snow gear from head to toe, skis strapped to your feet and poles in hand. You look over at Minho while he’s strapping his snowboard to his boots.
“Ready?” He asks, fastening his helmet to his head. You were not ready. You’ve gone skiing a couple of times in your life, but you always forgot how to do anything the second you found yourself back on the hill.
You shake your head at him, slightly terrified, but mostly excited. “Just remember, pizza!” He says, referring to the position he taught you for slowing down.
“Are you sure this is a beginner hill?” you say to him, questioning your choices.
“Define beginner,” he laughs back.
“Minho!” “I’m kidding! Look, there's a 6-year-old who can do this hill. You’ll be fine. I’m right behind you.”
That makes you feel slightly better, but you take a deep breath and head down the hill anyway. You want this weekend to be fun for both of you.
It only takes a second for muscle memory to kick in, and then you’re moving down the slope with ease. You’re on the side of the hill, away from all the people, and you’re calling back to Minho about how much fun you’re having. You catch a glimpse of him gliding down the hill on his snowboard, snow kicking up with every graceful movement, hips moving effortlessly as he maneuvers around people. You can’t help but smile to yourself, he looks so happy.
You both go up and down the hill for a couple of hours before you begin to tire. “One more, then lunch?” Minho says to you on the ski lift. Right when you nod your head to agree, you see him wince as he stretches his neck and shoulders.
“Minho, if the couch is killing your back, let me sleep on it tonight,” you say, rubbing his shoulder. You could tell his shoulder was bothering him, and you could only imagine how his back was feeling after a day of snowboarding as well.
“I’m fine,” he says assuringly. “Truly, I want you to be comfortable. It’s only a couple of nights.” He’s so damn stubborn. You roll your eyes, but you know when his mind is set on something, it’s hard to change it.
You slide off the ski lift for the last time and start to head down the hill, Minho trailing not far behind. The day stayed mostly overcast, but the trees and mountains against the clouds were beautiful. You glide down the hill with ease, slowing to watch as people learn to ski and snowboard. Everyone seemed so happy.
You don’t notice the rock hiding at the edge of the tree line until you crash into it, losing your balance, and faceplant into the snow. You roll a couple of times, but luckily you were towards the end and there wasn’t much hill left to tumble down. The snow stings your face, and you feel a brutal pain in your shoulder as you come to realize what just happened.
Minho screams your name as he rushes over to help. “Shit, are you okay?” he asks as he frantically unstraps himself from his board and kneels beside you.
You’re able to roll over on your back, letting out a groan as the pain throughout your body starts to hit. You’re positive there will be bruises on your ribs when you wake up tomorrow. He helps you up, takes off your skis, and supports you as you step out of them. Your legs feel fine, but your upper body aches. He drapes one of your arms over his shoulder and holds your waist firmly as he walks you over to the medic tent.
“I’m okay, really, I promise,” you say to the staff member as he’s checking you out. You’re definitely in pain, and Minho is certainly not convinced.
“It’s just a precaution, to make sure you have no concussion or broken bones,” the staff member says to you as he feels around your ribs. Minho’s holding your hand, tracing small circles with his thumb, watching you intently. You have a feeling that it’s more for him than it is for you, but you still enjoy the comfort, especially with someone poking at all the places that hurt.
“Nothing’s broken or bleeding, but you’ll definitely have some nasty bruises in the morning,” the medic says to you. “A warm bath and ice for any swelling, and go to the hospital if anything gets worse.” You nod your head at him and put your jacket back on, and Minho helps you out of the tent.
“Minho, I can walk just fine,” you laugh as he’s still holding you up by your waist, walking you back to the car. He makes eye contact for a moment, and you study his face. He’s flushed, no doubt from the cold and exercise, and his hair is messy from the helmet. A look of worry is plastered on his face, but he lets you go gently.
You walk on your own back to the car, but he still helps you into your seat and buckles you in. You stop protesting so much. He likes being helpful, and he’s clearly worried about you, no matter how much you assure him that you’re fine.
The caretaking doesn’t stop back at the cabin, either. Not that you expected it to, or even wanted it to. It was nice having him fawn over you. It made you feel loved in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. He helps you inside the house and sits you down in a chair to help you take off your boots and winter gear. He walks you into the bathroom and starts a bath for you, and gently tugs on your shirt to lift it over your head. Your hand reacts before your brain can catch up, stopping him.
“Let me take a look,” he says gently, scanning your face for any sign of discomfort. He’s seen you shirtless countless times, for years now, in swimsuits where you’re wearing much less clothing. This, however, feels more intimate. You nod your head at him, letting him take your shirt off and inspect your torso.
A bright red splotch crawls up your side, already starting to turn purple around your ribs. You hiss at the contact, his hands still cold from outside.
“Sorry,” he says quickly, moving your shirt to the counter. “Does it hurt?”
“Yes, but it’s fine, your hands are just cold,” you say, laughing a bit at how apologetic he is.
“Does it hurt anywhere else?”
“My shoulder, I think I landed on it funny.”
“Yeah, the judges gave it a 6/10.” You smack him at that one.
“I’m serious, it hurts.” You whine, and he moves your hair and shifts to your right to get a closer look.
“It’s red, and it’ll probably bruise tomorrow. Good thing you’re taking the bed!” He smiles at you like he’s won the argument you’ve been having the whole weekend. You roll your eyes at him, but you can’t disagree.
“We can share, okay? No more bad shoulders for us, we only have 2/4 left,” you tell him, trying to be stern. He raises his eyebrow at you.
“If you wanted to get me into bed, you should’ve just asked—”
“Get out!” You smack him playfully, and he holds his hands up in surrender as you shoo him out of the room.
The bath is nice and the warm, bubbly water eases a lot of the pain you just endured. Your mind wanders to the events of the last few hours, how everything happened. How Minho’s face looked when you fell. How he held you up, how he held your hand, how he touched your skin, how close he got to your face. You feel your heart beating faster when you snap out of it and climb out of the tub.
Minho already has dinner made when you get out. A nice hearty soup, it’s warm and smells heavenly. You both sit at the table, your hair’s still wet from the bath and he’s still in his ski clothes.
“Thank you,” you say as you sip on the soup. Minho’s the best cook you know, and you’re thankful that he’s the one taking charge in the kitchen.
After dinner is cleaned up, he showers, changes into comfy clothes, and pours you both a glass of wine to help you wind down from the day. You’re playing cards at the coffee table by the fireplace and just chatting away.
“My mom called, says she misses you,” he says gently.
“Tell her I miss her too, and now hopefully I can come and see her now that…” you say, trying not to mention your ex. You realize it’s the first time you’ve really thought about him all day. And the first time it doesn’t make you sad.
He looks at you with sorrow in his eyes. You gently place your hand on his, and look at him to say, “I’m okay, I promise. I’ve been having so much fun I haven’t even thought about him until just now.”
“That’s good. You already know you deserve better,” he says, placing his other hand on yours.
“I know,” you nod. “You too.”
The bathroom sink lights flicker slightly while you change into your pjs. You can’t stand wearing pants to bed, no matter how cold it is outside. The big t-shirt you wear hides not much more than your butt, hitting right along your middle thigh.
Minho’s lying on the couch when you come out. “I don’t think so, mister,” you say to him sternly. He looks at you, smirk on his face, and you gesture to the loft above.
“Fine, but you’re a space heater in your sleep, stay on your side of the bed,” he says back, rolling his eyes.
You get situated on the inside of the bed closest to the railing, and Minho climbs in after you. He breathes out a sigh of relief, feeling exhausted after a long ass day. Your heart starts racing as you both lie there, inches apart.
“Goodnight,” you say, turning to him.
“Goodnight, sweet dreams,” he says back to you. An eerie quiet falls over the cabin. It’s pitch black save for the bit of moonlight that peeks through the trees, and you can hear his breathing as it steadies.
You move your hand ever so slightly until you feel his, and just hold it there. He laces his fingers between yours and you can feel your pulse quicken, and your breath getting shaky. Neither of you moves or speaks, and once the nerves die down you quickly drift off to sleep.
You jolt awake in the middle of the night, absolutely freezing despite being under several layers of blankets. You sit up to try and investigate, but your bruised torso starts aching when you try. Minho stirs beside you as you let out a low groan.
“Minho,” you whisper, trying not to startle him. It doesn’t work, and he’s still fast asleep. You resort to nudging him with your foot.
“Ay!” he lets out as he jolts awake. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” He immediately comes to and leans over to look at you.
“Uh…it’s just really cold in here,” you whisper, putting your cold foot on his leg.
“Jesus, your feet are cold. Let me see what’s wrong with the heat.” He gets up and throws his hoodie on, and heads downstairs to check it out. You hear him flick the lights on, but the room stays dark.
“Well, that’s probably why,” he says, laughing in disbelief. You lean over the edge of the railing and you see what he’s talking about. The snow outside is coming down hard. The wind is knocking the tree tops together, and you can only assume the whole town is without power.
Minho lets out a deep breath and heads over to the fireplace. He put out the fire hours ago, but the cabin is small enough that he’s hoping it’ll give you both at least a bit of heat upstairs. You watch as he takes firewood from the stack and kindles the fire. He starts the fire and makes sure the screen is tight and that there’s nothing that can easily catch in front of it.
He comes back upstairs with an extra set of blankets and leans over the bed to throw one of them over you. You’re shivering, even under three layers of blankets, praying for warmth.
The bed dips as he climbs back into it, and he snakes his arm under your head to pull you close, taking care not to put weight on your bad shoulder. Your head settles into his chest and you catch a whiff of his cologne, the smell of him makes your heart flutter.
“What are you doing?” You whisper against him as he holds you tight. He rests his chin on the top of your head, letting out a deep breath. Surely he can feel your heart pounding out of your chest.
“I’m keeping you warm,” he says simply, but you catch the faintest sense of nervousness in his voice. Your hand is on his side, and you slowly move it under the hem of his shirt. His skin is warm, and he hisses at the contact of your cold hand.
You pull back slightly to look up at him, your hand drifting across his abs. You didn’t notice that he had a six pack the other night in the hot tub, but your skin grows warmer as you trace every single muscle. His breathing gets shakier with every moment that passes, and he opens his eyes to look at you.
His hand comes up from your back to move a stray strand of hair out of your face, and then rests gently cupping your jaw. You’re not sure what might happen, what it might mean, but you know that you want it. You want him.
You can’t stop staring at his lips. They’re perfectly plump, pink, and parted slightly so his front teeth peek out. He’s only inches from your face, and you bite your lip to refrain from babbling nonsense. You’re too nervous to make the first move, or to say anything really.
You don’t have to say anything. He already knows by the way you’re looking at him, eyes full of want. He looks at you the same way. You’re holding your breath now in anticipation, waiting for him. He leans in slowly, scanning your face just before you touch, just in case you want to pull back. You respond by closing your eyes and he closes the gap. Your lips meet, and you exhale into him.
The kiss is tender, gentle in a way that’s precious. You’re only slightly stiff for a moment before relaxing into his touch, your lips moving in rhythm with his. It’s better than you could have ever dreamed of, and the only thing that matters is this moment right here, right now.
He pulls back for only a moment. “Jagiya,” he whispers. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
“Don’t stop,” you reply.
The next kiss is hungrier, and his hand drifts down to your thigh, hiking it over his side. You grind into him on reflex and you can feel how hard he is beneath his sweatpants. You let out a moan into his mouth and he moves his hand to squeeze your ass, guiding you as you move against him.
You move your hand to his neck, deepening the kiss as your tongue meets his. He tastes delicious, and you move your hips harder and faster into him. He lets out a moan pulling you hard against him.
Your body feels like it’s on fire now, and you need more of him now. You feel your cunt throbbing against his length, and you tug his shirt up to take it off. He rolls you on your back gently, breaking the kiss to kneel above you to yank it off. He pulls up on the hem of your shirt next, and you sit up slightly to help him get you out of it.
The cold air hits you and your nipples harden immediately. He continues to kiss you, resting on his arm and moving his other hand to knead your breast. You moan at the contact and wrap your legs around his hips to bring him closer to the spot you’re on fire. His mouth moves down your jawline, leaving a trail of soft kisses. He gets to your neck and you lean your head to give him better access. He kisses and sucks on it gently, and your moans get louder and higher pitched. Everything is so much, and yet not enough. The friction between your legs causes a heat in your belly to pool, and you scratch at his back as his hips continue to roll into yours.
“Minho, please,” you whimper. “I need you.”
“Okay, jagiya. Just tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispers against your skin. You nod your head frantically as you pull him back into another kiss.
He takes his hand from your chest and gently moves it down your body. You start to tremble, desperate to feel him between your legs. His fingers ghost against your core and you feel the wetness of your panties sticking to your folds. His mouth dips down to your chest as he licks across your breast, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking gently. You gasp, and your hands fly to his hair, gripping slightly as he moves against you.
He brings his head up and moves his hand away from your heat, and you whimper at the loss. His hands come up and he takes two fingers into his mouth, wetting them gently. His hand comes back down, slips underneath your panties, and he sinks them into you.
“Fuck, Minho,” you gasp as he fucks into you slowly, lowering his head back down to your breast, sucking gently on your neglected nipple. “Oh my god, that feels so good.” He responds by humming against you, and you can’t help but buck into his touch.
“So needy,” he says as he pulls back, looking up at you. “Let me take my time with you, jagi.” You whine at him and pull him back into another kiss. He slips a third finger into you and your eyes roll back into your head, your stomach knotting as he picks up his speed.
His thumb makes contact with your clit and your muscles tighten, your whimpers louder and more erratic. “Not yet,” he whispers in your ear as he pulls his hand completely away from you. You’ve completely ruined your underwear at this point, the cool fabric sending a shock through you. He stands off the bed to tug them off of you, tossing them on the floor. He stares at you as he slowly unties his sweats, shimmying them off his hips and onto the floor. You watch as he drops his boxers next, his cock flinging out and against his stomach. He’s huge, and you whimper slightly at the thought of him stretching you out.
He climbs back on top of you, kissing you again, and you grab onto his waist impatiently. He chuckles into your mouth.
“Are you sure?” he asks again. “I didn’t exactly bring a condom on a trip with my best friend.”
“Aw, I’m touched,” you say sarcastically. “Yes, god Minho please fuck me.”
He slots himself between your legs and you wrap yours around his waist. He guides himself to your entrance and gently presses in. Only the head is inside and you’re already feeling stretched out. His forehead falls to yours, and you both moan in sync as he enters you.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans as he bottoms out. Your arms wrap around his back as he hovers above you, giving both of you time to adjust.
He starts to move and your stomach heats up again. He’s moving slowly but so deep, you can feel him hit your cervix with every thrust. You feel every drag of his length against his walls, the stretch of him feels so fucking good after all of the buildup.
He picks up the pace and kisses you again, fucking you harder into the mattress. He groans as he feels you squeeze around him. “Fuck, don’t do that, or I’m gonna come.” You do it again deliberately and he lets out a growl.
He leans back and his hand moves to your clit, rubbing circles around it, applying just enough pressure to let the heat in your belly rise. Your body starts to tingle, and you feel your peak approaching fast.
“Fuck, don’t stop, holy shit,” you gasp between his thrusts. He applies slightly more pressure, slamming his hips into you. The mattress squeaks loudly underneath you, the sound just barely audible over your moans.
“Minho—fuck, I’m gonna—“ you sputter out.
“It’s okay, come for me. I wanna feel you come around me, jagiya,” he coaxes you as he continues to drive into you, thumb moving fast over your nub.
That does it for you, and soon you're a shaking mess underneath him. Your orgasm crashes over you, and your skin feels electric, the warmth spreading throughout your body.
“Jesus, I’m coming,” he says as he’s fucking you through your orgasm, finishing inside of you. You feel his cock spasm inside of you as you’re coming down from your high, and he grunts as he falls on top of you, careful to avoid your previous injuries.
“Fuck, jagi, baby, you’re incredible,” he pants, kissing you again. You’re smiling so wide now, kissing him back as he softens inside of you.
“That’s one way to warm up,” you laugh.
He pulls out of you, and you hiss at the contact, leaking all over the mattress. He grabs a towel and cleans you up, being gentle around your sensitive area. He helps you into a (thankfully fresh) pair of panties and his shirt, and he lies back down to pull you against his chest.
The quiet settles around you, still pitch black in the cabin, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s warm, comforting, and everything you’ve been missing.
“I’m an idiot,” he says softly. You raise an eyebrow at him, confused.
“Uh…you are, but why say that now?” you question.
“I spent the better part of a decade trying to make a relationship work, thinking that it would fill the weird emptiness I was feeling,” he starts, looking back at you. “Only to realize the person I wanted, the person I needed, was right in front of me.”
Your breath catches at his confession. “And…when did you realize that?” You pry.
“About six months ago.” When he finally broke things off with his ex. “I was just waiting for her to realize it, too.”
He looks back down at you, and you can’t hide the smile on your face. He kisses you again, slowly, and suddenly you realize why it never worked out with anybody else.
“I love you, if that wasn’t obvious,” he chuckles.
“I love you too,” you smile at him, resting into his chest.
This, him, everything, is exactly what you needed.
a/n: valentine’s day present is a bit late but it’s not really themed that way anyway haha. i feel like this was boring so pleaseee tell me if you enjoyed it! thank you to everyone who's shown me so much love these past few weeks, i'm hoping my writing is getting better hahaha ♡
permanent taglist: @11racha @jisuperboard
