“It’s not supposed to hurt,” Minho says against Jeongin’s mouth.

He presses a chaste kiss to the corner of hers, the warmth of his palm rubbing a gentle circle against a mound above her clit. It’s making Jeongin’s breath stutter, just enough to feel each throb between her legs run lightning through her her veins.

She can feel him against her leg, denim and the teeth of his jeans scratching against her bare thigh. The weight of his cock is straining against his boxer briefs, and she wonders how that is going to get inside of her.

It’s not like Minho is particularly large, it’s just—she’s never—

“You’ll be okay.” His voice sounds so sweet, so assuring. It makes her belly ache as she squeezes her thighs around his wrist tighter. He laughs, nosing at her hair line. “Just think about how long you’ve been waiting.”

It makes Jeongin choke—heat licking across her face with embarrassment. His palm moves up, fingers playing with the edge of the fabric of her panties. It makes her shiver, knowing how close he is to her.

She /has/ been waiting—ever since Felix introduced her to his older brother, and for years she would stare across the dinner table at Minho, longing for him to look her way. Maybe all along he knew—she tried to not be so obvious, but she liked to think she was subtle about her crush.

But she never thought it’d amount to this, like all the times it played out in her head like a movie before she’d fallen asleep: on her back, in Minho’s bed with Minho touching her.

It was easier there, in her fantasies—her legs would spread so easily for Minho, not a hiccup of worry, and her desire filled in all the gaps as she’d touch herself to orgasm under her duvet. But now, she’s uncertain—

“I’ll be gentle,” Minho assures her, hips rutting harder against her. “I promise.”

She shouldn’t be scared, she’s been wanting this—

Minho lets out a noise against her ear that makes her blush burn harder. Jeongin buckles, thoughts plummeting into the endless nights of desire she’s imagined, over, and over.

She loosens the hold on her thighs, pushing her knees apart.

“Good girl,” Minho says, slipping a finger inside. Jeongin gasps, fighting the urge to close her legs again.