pairing: bf!evan x f!reader
NSFW (mdni) ; implied degradation ; sensitive reader ; miscommunication that leads to reader crying ; slightly insecure heeseung ; dry humping ; riding ; missionary (?) ; p in v (protected) ; “angel” “baby” “pretty” “pretty little thing” used as nicknames ; virgin/inexperienced!reader ; implied athlete!reader ; implied hung!hee
4,002: WC for this request✉️
4K words in one day 👀 — this coke must b columbian
You tried to overlook it.
Honestly, you’re just as eager as he is—he might not even know he’s hurting you.
The bites were fine at first, even the one that left a lasting ache on your shoulder.
But calling you…that?
That was intentional.
When would a word like that ever slip out of your boyfriend who’s never called you anything but his princess?
“Heeseung!” This time, you use his full name; and it’s no longer with that soft, willing tone you’ve carried yourself with up to this point.
You draw him out of your neck; bringing him face to face with a completely different person than when he started this.
Tears threaten to fall, and you’ve probably never looked as vulnerable as you do right now.
It’s like a switch is flipped in his mind; he didn’t even like what he was doing—but he thought you did—so he continued to pretend he could keep up with what he assumed you liked if it meant you’d finally let him have you.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” He asks, propped up on his palms now to put a little more distance between the two of you.
The tears start to spill out from the sides as you remember it; you don’t want to repeat the word out loud, but it’s just as bad because it continues to echo in your mind.
“You said…” you trail, a tiny sniffle between this and that, “you called me a…”
Actually, he doesn’t want to know anymore.
He doesn’t even know where he pulled that out from.
Probably his ass if he thought about it too hard.
But there’s no excuse, and because he can’t come up with one fast enough, he has to watch you break down in front of him.
“Don’t cry,” he tries to say it without sounding like an idiot; of course you should be crying, what kind of person talks like that to their girlfriend?
“I’m sorry, baby” he says, “I wasn’t even thinking about it—it came out of nowhere—”
What? Like it’s a deep dark fantasy that slipped out because he wasn’t thinking about it?
Come on, Heeseung; just be honest.
“I thought you’d like it.”
This stops you from sobbing quietly, but only for a moment.
“Why would I like that?” You ask, your voice a little shaky before you get back to it.
Heeseung sits back on his heels after this, trying to make you more comfortable by giving you some space where he isn’t pressing you down into the mattress.
And for a bit, he just lets you cry it out.
He messed up, he can acknowledge that; why would he try convincing you otherwise?
You try to stop a few times, but it’s hard when it’s all you can think about.
When you are able to stop yourself from crying, it’s when you find yourself needing an answer to your last question.
When would you ever want him to talk to you like that?
And when you repeat that question to him, Heeseung can’t look at you directly; he looks guilty of something.
“I just thought…” he pauses, wanting to find a way to blame this on himself before he considers telling you the truth.
But there’s no way around it.
He’d never come up with this on his own.
“I heard something…about you and the captain of the soccer team.”
“Something that happened one night after you both stayed in the same hotel during your respective tournaments.”
What?
“I thought the reason we hadn’t…was because I was too soft for you. That you needed someone more…controlling…”
Surely he doesn’t believe that.
You’ve never even spoken to Jake outside of the promotional campaigns you do for the school as captains of your teams.
“I never-“ you hesitate, giving him the wrong idea.
“I’m not holding it against you.” He assures, “it was before me, of course you’ve had your experiences.”
Wrong.
“No, Heeseung.” You say, a little firmer this time, “I’ve never been with anyone else.”
The way he looks at you after this…isn’t the face of a man who believes what he’s hearing.
“What?”
“I told you when we started dating that I’ve never had a boyfriend before.” You remind, your brows creased slightly in the center.
“I know.” He assures, “but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t have…”
He breaks off, eyes coming down as he takes in the visual representation of what he thought would be the body of a girl who he’d never be able to keep up with.
But then he starts to think about it a little more.
You were shy when he started, but he thought that was just because it would have been your first time with him.
And you did react to the smallest touches, but he assumed you were just sensitive.
“Am I really the only person who’s seen you like this?” He asks, voice barely above a whisper.
His hand reaches out tentatively, pressing gently against your stomach before sliding upwards towards your chest.
Goosebumps form in the trail he leaves behind; of course you’re telling the truth, what kind of idiot would believe a rumor over the word of his own girlfriend?
“I’m such an asshole,” he sighs, pulling your shirt down for you, “making you cry like that…you deserve better.”
Maybe you were scared before, but it wasn’t entirely on him, you should have been clearer before.
Now he’s probably out of it.
Maybe he won’t do it anymore.
What if he doesn’t try it after this?
“Are we going to stop?” You ask, tilting your head down a bit to look at him.
He picks up his gaze and finds you staring down at him; a soft, almost worried expression while you lay back against a pillow.
You’re so pretty.
Not physically, but more in the way you look at him and the way your voice sounds when you talk to him.
“I don’t know…” he admits, taking his hand off you to let it fall onto his lap.
He’s not being hard on you; he’s just trying to do what he feels is right by giving you some time to yourself.
“I think we should.”
He wants you to understand that he’s acknowledging how wrong he was in the beginning.
That it’s normal—almost expected—that you’d stop after having cried from the discomfort.
“I probably put you through so much in such a small amount of time…don’t you think it’s better?” He asks, a small frown.
Your gaze wanders off a bit.
He can’t imagine you being frustrated—but it does seem like you’re upset that he won’t keep going.
“I know I can’t ask you for too much, but please talk to me,” he says, cupping your face and turning you slowly to make you look at him. “What’s going on inside that pretty head of yours?”
You lean into his palm, still unable to look at him directly for too long.
“Everything was happening so quickly…and it hurt a little when you bit me…” you admit, “then you said that and I couldn’t handle it anymore.”
“But…”
But what?
“I didn’t want you to stop…I just wanted you to slow down.”
Now, is that the truth?
Or are you just trying to downplay it?
“You want to keep going?” He asks, wanting you to say it with its full words.
“I do…”
He definitely doesn’t deserve you.
Heeseung sighs softly, pulling back completely until he’s standing over you; one knee pressed into the mattress while his other leg comes down on the floor.
You said you didn’t want him to stop. Where is he going?
“I’m just gonna take these off…try not to look so upset.” He says, trying to lighten things up a bit.
At the same time, he’s picking his shirt up a bit to find the drawstrings of his sweats and pull them loose.
You watch for a bit, then you look away when he catches you staring.
“I don’t mind you looking,” he assures, followed by the sound of his clothes falling onto the floor.
This time, he offers you his hand and sits you up when you take it; then he crawls back into bed with you, only he doesn’t come between your legs again.
“Do it for my peace of mind…” Heeseung begs, guiding you down onto his lap, “I’d prefer it if you took what you need from me…I want you to do only what you’re comfortable with.”
“Okay…” you nod, hands settling on his shoulders.
You only agreed because you don’t want him to think you’re scared of him.
If you let him stop, he’d think he did something wrong; and he didn’t—it was just a little miscommunication, that’s it.
“I’ll help you, okay?” He assures, leaning back against the bed frame.
You nod again, fixing yourself on his lap a little better while you use his shoulders to keep your balance.
He exhales a little, tensing under you for a second before he seems to force himself to relax and try to smile at you.
“Help me with my shirt…” he says, trying to distract the both of you with smaller things.
Your hands come down, you pinch the trim of his shirt and pull it up carefully; then you pull it over his head and off his arms.
“Do you think you’ll need that later?” He teases gently, watching you bunch his shirt up in your hands and then keep it, “throw it.”
You don’t have a single bad bone in your body, do you?
Even with something like this, the most you can do is tossing it into the corner of the bed, just far enough that it doesn’t bother either of you.
“Here’s what you’re going to do…” He says, staying in his boxers for now.
“Don’t hold yourself up…sit down,”
When you do, it’s over something hard; pressing into your thigh for the most part, but it’s covered up by his clothes when you try to look at it.
“Rub yourself against me, just do whatever feels good…” he adds, showing you what he means as he does it with his own hips.
It draws a small gasp out of you, and you pick your head up to look at him.
“Like that,” he encourages, “did that feel good?”
“Y-yeah…” you admit, unable to keep looking at him for much longer.
“Try it…”
You do.
One careful grind against it—not against him—but actually aiming for the bulge.
You hum softly, getting into it a lot faster than he expected you to; but maybe that’s expected of you as an athlete.
Of course you’d have control over your body.
With how hard you work it, this is probably nothing for you.
It doesn’t take long for the mess to start; a spot forms over the fabric of his boxers, and then it’s your underwear that starts to soak through.
It makes it so he can feel you—really feel you.
You don’t flush, and blushing isn’t something you’ve done yet; but he doesn’t need to see any of that to feel the heat radiating off your skin and between your legs.
He wants to see more of you; your shirt is doing very little to hide the stiff peaks that have formed under it, and he can only imagine what your underwear looks like—
It gets him ahead of where you two actually are, and he has to hold your hips in place when he realizes he’ll come just on this.
“I don’t…” he hesitates, recognizing that he’s messed up again; this time by making you think you’d done something wrong.
“I would have finished…” he admits, “and I don’t want to do that right now…”
“O-okay…” you nod, pretending like you understand as you take his word for whatever it means.
“Can I take these off?” He asks.
You think he wants to undress you, but he’s actually referring to the rest of his clothes; something you realize only after he kicks them off while you’re still perched up on his lap.
Your eyes start to come down slowly; spending a little extra time on his chest and torso before he sees you start going lower.
“Don’t,” he says suddenly, cupping your face to prevent you from looking down, “you’ll make yourself nervous if you look at it.”
He isn’t being cocky.
Heeseung was under the impression that you’d done things before—that you would know how to handle him and his size because of that.
But the last thing he needs is for you to scare yourself by overthinking about it.
As long as he helps himself in slowly, you’d never know how much you’re actually taking.
“What…?” You ask softly, cheeks squished together slightly by his hands.
“Trust me, angel…” he says, a soft kiss to your nose, “it’ll be easier if you don’t think about it.”
After a bit, you nod.
And after a second small kiss, this time to your lips, Heeseung releases your face to help you with your clothes.
He’d let you keep your shirt and your underwear on because he didn’t want you to get conscious about it while you could think about it.
But now that you’re more comfortable, it might be easier for you to be naked in front of him.
Your shirt comes off and he isn’t so considerate of where it goes; it gets tossed onto the floor behind you along with your underwear the minute he can get them off.
You sit back down, this time just a little under his length, mostly on his thigh.
It takes every fiber of his being not to get distracted by the way you drip over him; just a bit over the clothes and this is what he gets?
Imagine what you’d look like if he really had his way with you.
Instead, heeseung focuses on what’s really important; protection.
It sucks and he was hoping he wouldn’t have to use it.
But you’ve probably never been on the pill.
And that isn’t going to change just because he can’t be more prepared.
He only has the one, and the only reason it’s in his wallet was because of some dumb joke one of the guys made.
When heeseung tilts his head back to look up at you, he realizes you’ve been watching him the entire time; actually listening to him after he told you not to look any lower.
“Pretty little thing…” he says softly, tucking some of your hair behind your ear, “are you sure?”
“I’m sure…” you say, a small, eager nod as you lean into him a bit.
“Come up on your knees…just a little.” He instructs, hands under your thighs to help you up.
One hand abandons the other and comes between your body and his.
Heeseung looks.
Why does he get to?
“Hmph-“
There it is.
“Careful,” he says quickly, “I’m right there, you’ll hurt yourself.”
Your hands squeeze his shoulders a bit, your body is tense in anticipation; it’s just the tip, and it isn’t even inside you, it’s just…there…nudging into you a little.
“Let me in…” he encourages, kissing the only part of you he can reach in this position; your wrists that are currently on either side of his head.
“Slow.” He adds, lowering you on his length.
It’s a painful inch by inch progression; but you take him so well, even if it’s clearly painful for you.
“So good…” he praises softly, keeping himself together for your sake, “taking me so good…”
It helps you push through; and it isn’t so hard on you when you don’t have to hold yourself up because he has you.
Still, it does hurt; you cant keep any of your strength and you have to lean forward to rest against him.
Heeseung expected you to stop him at some point—maybe a little after halfway—but to his surprise, there’s no stoping until he’s buried inside you.
His hands can come out from under you because you’re adjusting just fine with him completely inside you while you sit flush against him.
Your breath fans against the crook of his neck; your arms are wrapped firmly around it; and you’re squeezing him so perfectly—there’s no way you’re real.
Heeseung’s hands come up your sides; one slides up and down your back, rubbing gently to get you to relax.
The other, comes up to rest on your head; gently stroking your hair from the top just to keep you with him.
He doesn’t say anything for a minute.
You need the adjustment—and if it were up to him, you’d warm his length for minutes before he ever moved.
But you’re probably a little frustrated; having to do so much work just for him to drag things out for you.
So after that minute, he brings you out of hiding, just to see where you are.
“Use your words…how do you feel?”
You turn your head slightly, just so you weren’t covering your face with him any more and could speak clearly.
“Good.” You say softly, “it doesn’t hurt as much anymore…”
He smiles a little, pressing a kiss to the side of your head before he nudges you gently to sit up.
He’s just as sensitive as you are right now, so when you move, and your hips shift against his ever so slightly, it sends a shiver down his spine.
“Remember when I said you were gonna have to do it yourself?” He asks, hands slowly coming down to your hips.
You nod, so he continues; “move your hips, slowly, like before…” he explains, using his hands on your hips to drag them up, then down.
You gasp softly on that first rock, and it takes a lot from him to not move himself; but you get this look in your eyes, and he can tell you’re enjoying being on top like this.
“Think you can handle that?” He asks.
“Mhm…” you assure.
Heeseung nods and sits back a little.
His part is over; he helped you on, he showed you what to do—the rest is entirely up to you.
Bless your heart, really.
To your credit, you do exactly what he told you to do.
It’s just that you barely move inches forward and then back—and you’re slow—so painfully slow— the only thing saving your attempts are how well you wrap around him.
Maybe just a little more help…
It’ll still be in your control.
“C’mere…” he whispers, straightening up a bit to meet you better.
You look down at him, this time properly, and it gives him the chance to kiss you.
Softly at first; then he slides his tongue into your mouth, using your surprise as a distraction from when he guides your hips with his hands himself.
This is better, much better.
“Fuck…” he sighs, breaking the kiss for a moment as he feels you get into it a little more.
Your head lolls to the side, hands coming up his neck and then around it, “heeseung…”
“Up and down, angel, you can do it.” He encourages, placing softer kisses over the bruises he gave you earlier; as if it would really make up for how bad he was to you at first.
You realize that he means for you to move more; and it’s only after that you realize you aren’t really doing it yourself.
“m’sorry…” you say softly pressing your knees into the bed on either side of his hips.
Cmon, do better…
“Don’t be sorry, baby…” he assures, a few lazy kisses to your cheek.
Then he feels you come up and down instead of grinding your hips like he’d done for you.
Aww…you took him literally…
“Like this?” You ask, resting your forehead against his.
“Just like that,”
He uses this position to watch you carefully; except he isn’t watching you, his eyes are boring into yours.
It encourages you to move a little faster; the sound of your body coming down on his starts to fill the room and it makes him blank out for a second.
Then, he’s brought out when you get more confident; moving with more urgency and need when you figure out what makes you feel good.
And it isn’t long after that when your body starts to tremble a little, causing your rhythm to break a bit.
“Don’t stop, baby.” He says, hand coming between your legs to find and rub your clit—just to push you a little over the edge.
“Squeezing me so good— you gonna come, baby?” He asks softly, cupping your face to keep you looking at him when you try to hide.
“I can’t—“ you whine, your legs are threatening to give out on you; you won’t be able to keep this going much longer.
True to your word, you don’t make it through.
And just when his has started to build up, it’s unraveling with yours when you collapse on his lap.
He can’t blame you.
Not after your body starts to tremble with small shocks that cause your hips to stutter into his.
You did much better than anyone could have done for their first time riding.
“I’m sorry…” you say, voice muffled slightly as you speak into his neck.
“Don’t be,” he says, now painfully hard inside you, “you did so good…”
It hurts a little for you too; to have gotten so close just to stop right before you could have finished.
He could ask you to try again, but what if it plays out the same way?
You’d just end up torturing yourself and him.
“I can do it…if you want me too.” He offers, rubbing circles into your arm with his thumb as he holds you.
After a bit, you pick your head up again; eyes heavy and glossed over.
“Yes, please…” you sigh, almost like you’re a bit embarrassed.
Heeseung presses a quick kiss to your lips before he helps you off him slowly.
And he comes down with you as he lays you back, keeping one arm beside your head to keep himself up slightly while the other reaches low to line himself up again.
“It might hurt, not as much as before, but still…” he warns, waiting until you acknowledge that before he starts to push inside.
He doesn’t go farther than half before he pulls back out just enough to ease more into you with a roll of his hips.
Maybe it’s because you’re not really doing anything, but this feels better; like you’re completely in the dark because you won’t know what he does until he does it.
“I’m gonna move, m’kay?”
One eager nod from you is all it takes for him to do it—really do it.
His hips snap forward once, then again, and again—over and over as he sets a pace that’s closer to where you were at the end of yours than when you started riding him.
This is what you need though; it doesn’t take a lot for your stomach to coil in a way you’ve only been familiar with one other time.
“Feels good…”
“Yeah? Tell me how good it feels, angel…”
“God—“
He chuckles—like actually chuckles—right in the middle of it all.
“That’s not an answer, you can do better than that.” He says, his smile straining at the corners as he starts to chase his own.
He can probably get you to finish together if he’s smart about it; and he wants to.
“Wrap your legs around my waist…” he says, helping you do it by picking your legs up by your calves.
You get louder; genuine, raw sounds that spill after you say his name every now and then.
Then everything stops, just at first while it washes over you before he starts rocking his hips into yours to help you ride it out.
And because he was just holding out for you, he can actually use these to push himself over the edge.
Which is exactly what happens when his hips press into yours and he lets your fluttering walls finish him off.
enha tl: @kristynaaah @la-choiblog
