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lluciboo · 15 days ago

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My Best Friend's a Pervert - H.JS

Description: Your best friend Jisung is your rock, he's tough and he supports you through everything. He's the most important person in your life and the one you are most comfortable with. He's also a huge pervert, but as always you overlook everything.

Pairing: Han Jisung x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Content Warnings: Grinding/humping, perversion, dub-con(sorta), Fem Reader with Female anatomy

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: First full Smut posted on this account, based on this poll I did a few days ago. As always likes comments & re-blogs are very appreciated.

The two of you have been best friends for years. He's your rock, your strong pillar that holds you up when things get hard. You spend so much of your time together that everyone thinks you're dating. He's always there to take care of you, he spoils you rotten and when he's around you never need to worry about anything.

He's normally so collected, so stable. He is in control, he has everything under control. He keeps the staring to a minimum. He doesn't push you, he stays within the boundaries he ought to as a friend. He allows you to cuddle with him and goof off the way you always do, never letting the darker parts of him take over when you do. He never takes advantage of your comfort with him. But today he just can't be that man.

The day started off rough. The whole week he's been overworked, his family won't stop hounding him about getting a girlfriend and visiting for an upcoming holiday he doesn't care about. And probably worst of all, you've begun coming over to his place and stealing his clothes when you hang out. You say it's more comfortable, he loses a little part of his self control to the wind every time.

It also doesn't help that just last night his stupid roommate Minho decided to tell you that you look hot in Jisung's clothes. You blushed so sweetly at the compliment but Jisung knows his hyung wasn't flirting with you. Not genuinely anyway, he was flirting with you on Jisung's behalf. Riling him up. Teasing him.

He's a cruel man.

Which brings Jisung to the current moment. He closes the door behind you as you enter the house, he kicks off his shoes as he watches you send a casual wave to Minho who leans lazily against the counter. The dark haired man smirks and ushers you over with a single finger and Jisung only narrows his eyes with clenching fists when you prance over to him with light steps and let him feed you a cookie. Minho treats you like you're his cat.

The sight is adorable really, the older man laughs with sparkling eyes and ruffles your hair and you giggle at him and step on his foot. On purpose he figures. Minho retaliates with a tickle attack that has your beautiful laughter echoing through the room. Melodic, cheerful, utterly carefree. It should make him happy to see the two of you getting along, normally it would too. He's not even a jealous guy. But today it just pisses him off.

He rolls his eyes and comes over to grab your wrist and drag you off. You let him but turn around slightly as you're pulled off. Minho laughs again, the playful glint in his eye never leaving, and feeds you one more cookie before patting you softly on the rear in an odd but comfortable silent goodbye.

When you enter the room Jisung runs his other hand through his hair and sighs. You let go and give him space, moving to his closet and digging around for one of his white over sized t-shirts. When you find it you smile giddily and throw it over his desk chair, peeling off your attire as you turn away from your best friend.

It shouldn't even phase him anymore. You're so comfortable with him he might as well be your brother. The thought disgusts him. He tries not to watch you undress to your pretty red lace panties, but finds himself admiring the way you pull his t-shirt over your head and hug it to yourself as you walk towards the bed.

He walks up behind you mostly in a daze, his head is empty of everything but you. The shirt barely covers your ass as you crawl onto the bed in front of him. He stands behind you watching your ass sway in your panties while you crawl. Intrusive thoughts seem to take over in that moment and he lands a rather harsh slap against the right cheek, unconsciously smiling to himself as he hears the loud clap followed by a small sweet yelp.

He wouldn't even be mad if you turned around and slapped his perverted ass right in the face. However instead of putting him in his place like you probably should have, you simply giggle softly and roll over on your back with your knees bent smiling up at him innocently.

Despite him knowing full well this is normal for you, that you mean nothing by it other than being comfortable around him and that it's probably entirely a platonic thing, It makes for a very lewd sight as you lay directly in front of him enticingly.

He knows how wrong it is to be thinking of his friend this way, he knows very well you are definitely NOT thinking any dirty thoughts during your hang outs with him, and it makes him feel like a criminal. He is definitely breaking at least 20 friend codes with the way he's gazing at your body right now.

Your legs are spread and the shirt has risen up, exposing all too much of your pretty curves and the delicate lace fabric that compliments your body so well. Your back is slightly arched off the mattress, displaying so clearly the prominent indent of your waist and the soft voluptuous curves of your hips and thighs.

He wants to touch you so bad he considers he may actually need therapy. Your arms are lying defensively down on the mattress, and he knows you probably wouldn't fight him if he did decide to touch you. The way that turns him on makes him feel disgusting.

He does give in slightly, only enough to where he knows you'll be too oblivious to take it any way but platonically, after-all you've always been a cuddly pair. You don't have to know what he's actually thinking in his head, nor the way it goes straight to his dick, you don't need to know how foggy you make his head feel.

He climbs slowly on top of you, your legs on either side of his as his face hovers above yours. His hands instinctively slide up your legs and to your waist, he squeezes the skin there and relishes in the soft feeling in his hands and the way your back arches slightly further off the bed while you unconsciously spread your legs a bit further with a small gasp. You're sensitive, it makes him smile as his thoughts stray even farther into the depths of hell and insanity, he really hates himself.

He'd probably feel a lot less disgusting if you weren't so innocent with things like this, the difference between your innocence and his makes him feel like he's taking advantage of you, perhaps also your friendship as a whole. Of course he doesn't only see you sexually, you're still one of his best friends. He still loves you like he never thought he could another person.

But you don't know this, you don't feel the same, it feels wrong. He feels like a sinner in church when he's alone with you. While you think of this as a cute little cuddle sesh with your bestie, he's desperately trying not to imagine digging his nails into your hips and slamming you further into the mattress or perhaps kissing you breathless while he lifts your shirt up and gropes you like a madman. He feels himself harden to an extent of borderline agony in his sweats at the thought.

He IS disgusting, knows this, and wishes he had more control over his thoughts and feelings than he currently does.

You're still looking up at him with a silly smile on your face, clearly entirely oblivious to everything as always. He relaxes (or tries to anyway), resting both hands on either side of your hips while he lays his head down on your chest. He takes comfort in the large plush swells he feels through the fabric. He feels a headache coming on at the lack of bra when he feels a nipple against the side of his face. The world just fucking hates him today. He can't even help the longing (read: desperate and pathetic) sigh that falls from his lips.

Of course you take it as he's just tired or stressed and not that he is trying really hard not to thrust his boner against your thigh in desperation like some kind of dog. He's so ashamed he genuinely wants to cry and has to bite back what he knows would be a rather pathetic and entirely humiliating whimper. However despite this (or maybe in spite of this, really) your gentle fingers lace through his hair, petting him so softly it would make anyone feel like they're precious.

He does take comfort in it. He loves having his hair played with, it makes him feel safe. He just wishes he didn't also think about how it'd feel to have you tugging at his hair in this exact position but a far different context. He hates the way he throbs in his pants, hates how pathetic he is and how much it hurts. He hates even more that he also kinda likes how it hurts, how you've got him so desperately wrapped around your finger, how you somehow manage to edge him without even being aware of it. Masochistic tendencies are not below him, apparently.

You giggle again, bringing your other hand up to rub his back. "Rough day?" Your voice drips of affection and honey and he almost melts, almost.

Instead he groans and huffs an irritated "hmph." His voice comes out raspy and deeper than usual, likely from the strain in his pants. He slides his hands back up to your waist and grips you harshly while turning his head to bury his face in between your breasts, shaking his head between them. His hair tumbles around on his head as he does it and you giggle again.

From your perspective it probably looked like an adorable gesture but from his it was anything but. He wants to rip your shirt off. He's so painfully hard and frustrated by the fact that he can't do all the things he wants to do. He wishes he could actually feel the skin of your breasts.

Their size is all too tempting and based off the parts of her body he has felt, he knows they would be incredibly soft and squishy. So impossibly smooth he is not sure he would be able to let go of them, perhaps it's good that you have him in the friend zone and he can't actually do that. Which is why he takes what he can get and nuzzles against them through the fabric like a kitten might, eyes glossing over even further with unrelenting lust.

You hum and seemingly in retaliation for the harsh grip still on your waist, you remove your hand from his head and tickle his side much like Minho had to you not even half an hour prior.

He supposes it's a fair punishment really. His grip is so hard he knows it's going to bruise, he will never admit that he really hopes it does, that even in a platonic sense he can mark you. Not only that but there's also no way it doesn't hurt by now. He has a tendency to grab you like this, usually unconsciously, but he's normally not this rough with it.

And well, he's incredibly ticklish. Like unbearably so. In fact he's so ticklish his immediate response to your tickling is to remove his hands from your waist and grab both of yours. He breathes heavily as he slams them above your head on the mattress, his face is now directly in front of yours and his glare is strong as he gazes into your eyes. In truth he loves the sight, and even as he glares at you he takes in the lovely view and commits it to memory. Jack-off fuel for at least a month.

You play around like this very often, Jisung has never once been genuinely angry with you nor does he typically react the way he just did. His mind is clouded with arousal and the ache in his pants in combination with the desperation he feels has genuinely ticked him off even further than his general frustration from earlier somehow.

You still don't react much other than a small gasp and the briefest moment of shock in your eyes before it shifts to simply gazing sympathetically back at his heated glare. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were that stressed out."

He feels even more annoyed with you apologizing when he's so very obviously the problem here. You make no move to get him to release you either and he hates and loves how you always let him do what he wants with you. Never being weirded out with it and always accepting him as he is, all his flaws included.

He goes to say it isn't your fault, grip not loosening in the slightest but the glare softens as he furrows his brows. "Y/n no... I-"

However, he's interrupted by the door swinging open all too casually. You both look over to see Minho standing in the doorway in complete horror. "Oh.. oh my god. Oh my god no. Shit. I'm sorry!" His face is bright red trailing all the way from his neck to the tips of his ears as he covers his eyes and swiftly turns around, slamming the door behind him.

Jisung feels his own blush creep up his face. Even if you aren't actually doing anything this position and your prominent lack of dress is bound to give off a heavily sexual impression, he knows this well. And that in combination with the fact that he has been sporting the most raging hard boner of his life this entire time is so humiliating he thinks he actually will cry this time. His own lingering frustrations and the fact that he still has to fight the urge to grind his hips against you don't help either, and he feels even more pathetic with how easily his eyes well up with tears.

His lip trembles slightly as he goes to pull away from you, face beet red and eyes glossy with unshed tears. "Mm so sorry.. h-he definitely thinks w-we're.." He sniffles and hangs his head as he goes to move completely off the bed. You are faster and immediately stop him however, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him back into yourself. Your thighs are flush against him and the softness brings him a small sense of relief in combination with even more arousal and he can't hold back the whimper this time. Both emotional and horny, he is so overwhelmed he can't think straight.

You guide his head back into your chest and he all too eagerly wiggles his face back between your breasts with a whine and what almost sounds like a sob. He realizes he is actually full on crying now, tears soaking through the fabric of the thin t-shirt you're wearing. He is embarrassed of course, but simply can't help but let it all out when your magic hands find their way back into his hair.

You massage his scalp with a calculated care that forms goosebumps all along his neck and arms. His chest swells, his stomach tickles with an absurd amount of butterflies, and his dick twitches again in his sweats all at once. He feels a little less pathetic at the more relieved and now muffled whimper he lets out this time.

"It's okay Sungie.. I'm not upset, I can explain it to him later if you want me to." He whimpers and sobs sadly in response, gripping tightly back onto your waist as a way to ground himself enough to speak.

Even so, his mouth and brain refuse to cooperate with him and he only mumbles incoherently. "B-but I.. he.. mm.... I-I don't.." You tug lightly at his hair, not hard enough to hurt but enough to get his attention. He wishes he was prepared enough to stop the loud whine that rumbles all the way through his body.

"Shh.. Relax bub, we can talk about it later, it's not a big deal." You run a hand up and down his spine while the other continues massaging his scalp. Jisung shifts uncomfortably and slides his hands down your sides, subtly memorizing the curvature of your body. He grabs your thighs, sliding you up the bed so he can properly lay on top of you. Your legs remain wrapped around his waist as he nuzzles further into your chest. The shirt is so soaked with tears that in certain places on your chest it has become see through, he nudges the plush of one breast with his nose with a sniffle and watches in awe as it jiggles at even the smallest movement. He whines and thrusts his aching cock against the mattress below you, overwhelmed by how much he wants to suck on your skin. Like a drug that might fix all his troubles and cure him of his frustrations.

You still don't seem to notice his behavior is anything but sweet and friendly, laughing softly at how cute he is. Completely unaware that even with all of this he is STILL so thoroughly mind fucked with arousal, mind swarming with nasty thoughts and daydreams. This ignorance encourages him to venture a bit further, testing the boundaries of what you will enable him to do to you. Too overwhelmed, turned on, humiliated, and turned on by being humiliated to think rationally enough to stop himself.

He groans. It's loud and very obviously sexual, even if your naive self will never pick up on it. It's deep from the bottom of his throat and it comes out more of a growl than anything. He's never heard himself make such a noise before in his life. One hand still on your thigh he slides the other hand up slowly, seductively slow. If it wasn't incredibly obvious before it should have been now but alas, you don't pick up on a thing even as his hand slides up to your hip. It slows to a brief stop, sliding a thumb under the strap of your panties as the other fingers wrap around your hip.

He's no longer actively crying but still sensitive and in a very whiny mood, if you pull away he will break down again and he knows this. His eyes are once again glossed over with arousal even with his face drenched in tears and he wets his bottom lip before subtly sinking his teeth into it to maintain whatever little self control he has left that's keeping him from tearing the panties off you right this second. Instead he pulls the panty string away from your skin a small distance, relishing in the small view of the hip bone it was doing a terrible job of hiding. He lets go with a mischievous smirk, enjoying very thoroughly the way your body jerks slightly and you gasp at the snap.

You only pull his hair a little in retaliation this time, not trying to upset him or cause him to spiral any further, but just enough to demonstrate your acknowledging what you think is him playfully trying to cheer himself up. He whimpers again, loving the feeling of your hands on him even if it isn't sexual or romantic to you, it definitely is to him. His masochistic ways love the way it stings for the briefest of seconds when you pull his hair. Your actions only serve to spur him on even further. His hands are tantalizingly slow as he glides them up your waist, sliding the shirt to bunch up just below your breasts.

You shiver as he runs a nail along the curve of your waist. He happily observes it with an endeared smile while taking in the bruises forming at your waist and hips. He loves how his hands are imprinted into your skin, thinks that's how it should always be. He lets his mind imagine what you'd look like with bruises from both his hands and mouth on your neck and chest as well. His sigh is shaky as his dick twitches again against the fabric of his pants.

He leans back, hands still on your waist, and observes you from above. You're beautiful as always, and your expression holds no discomfort with his actions. You smile at him sweetly while your hands drop to either side of you. You look so vulnerable like this, practically trapped, so easy to pin down. He bites his lip harder now, taking in such an attractive sight. No other woman could make him feel this way. He's sure of that much.

He decides not to pin you down again for now, favoring the idea of getting his hands even just a little closer to the beautiful, perfectly rounded swells he has become rather obsessed with. No one had to know how much he thought about your chest, nor the way he stared when you weren't looking. The way he imagined what they would feel like gripped in his hands or on his lips, the way he imagined what they would look like had he somehow been graced with the privilege of not having god damn clothing in the way.

But whether anyone knew or not, all of it was true. He was obsessed, in truth he never felt that attracted to other women's breasts not to mention the straight undeterred obsession he feels for yours. Never before had he even been interested in other women, he can't help but wonder why that is.

He's careful and slow, hesitant as he slides his hands up slightly to rest with the bunch of the shirt directly under your breasts. He watches your reaction carefully and slowly slides his fingers over the skin on the side of your breasts, not directly touching them but close enough to almost feel them.

The action lifts the shirt just enough to show the lowest portion of your boobs, nipples still entirely covered. His breathing shakes as he thinks about it, looking into your eyes as you stare patiently back at him. You still make no effort to stop him, only stretching your arms over your head with a pleased hum escaping your beautifully parted lips. He watches entranced as the shirt lifts the tiniest bit higher in your stretch. Your back arches fully and your body curves in the most enticing way he has ever seen, he groans as your chest pushes up with the arch. Your breasts perfectly shaped and so much easier to see with the new angle.

You smile guilelessly, gently as your hands remain above your head softly caressing his silk sheets. Your body is curved for him so perfectly he has to fight the urge to kiss every inch of your skin to worship the absolute goddess you most definitely have to be. He can't resist however the subtle thrust of his hips towards you. He manages enough restraint to not let his dick touch you but his hardened length now dripping with precum is so painfully obvious in his grey sweatpants. If you notice this, you don't show it and stay smiling sweetly at him.

His dick is so close to where he feels it belongs that it makes him feel crazy. His fingers unconsciously wrap around the bunch of your shirt and he tugs. "Please.." His voice is soft, a pleading whine as his mind has finally crossed the border into submissive pussy-drunk arousal. At this point he is so hooked and out of it you could literally step on him and he'd still moan. "Please y/n.. please" The desperation in his last word makes it sound like if you say no he'll not only start crying again but he might just keel over and die.

Your expression is shocked at first, but then quickly morphs into a deep concern. He was normally so strong and now he was falling apart in front of you (for you, really, but you still don't see it that way). "Baby it's okay, you're okay." Your voice is the softest it's ever been, you bring your hands up to wipe the tears from his face. "I'm right here bubs, whatever you need. I just want you to feel better." He whines and grinds his hips in the air again while rubbing his face against one of your hands. He inhales deeply to calm himself down slightly, breathing in your comforting scent.

He then gently and hesitantly begins lifting your shirt up. Your breath hitches at the cold air assaulting your nipples but you allow him to expose your body to his yearning eyes. As soon as your hardened nipples come into view he can't stop the thrust of his hips against your clothed pussy. He whines and whimpers pitifully as he gently rocks his hips back and forth against you. His eyes roll back slightly and he moans as soon as he lifts the shirt from over your head, throwing it across the room. You gasp and look up at him in shock.

With his hips still subtly rocking against you he moves his hands to grip both of your breasts. He moans loudly and groans at the way your soft breasts feel in his hands. Even better than he had imagined, he may very well become addicted. Your breathing has gone ragged, gasps escaping your lips each time his fingers graze your nipples. He growls, loving having you react to his touches. He pinches one nipple between his fingers and toys with it, observing the way you squirm on his sheets. He twists and you yelp, not pained but surprised. The sound is so arousing he groans and dips his head towards the other breast. He continues to play with you while he kisses the swell of your boob. You sigh shakily and unconsciously meet his thrusts with a subtle one of your own.

"Ah.. s-so perfect." He moans, sucking a dark red bruise into your breast. Your whimper is like music to his ears, he wants more. He moves down to your nipple and begins sucking on it happily, he's too out of it to even realize what it is exactly he's doing to his best friend but it feels so good.

His unoccupied hand goes to your thigh pulling you flush against him and relishing in the way you moan at the action. His hand slides back down to your hip, a strong grip holding you to grind against you harder. His moans turn into a string of curses, hips stuttering as he nears his high. His whimpers are full of pain and desperation as he falls apart on you.

"I've got you bub.. you can let go it's okay." You lay a gentle kiss to his head despite the rocking of your bodies as he grinds himself against you, then you gently massage his hair again. He sighs and relaxes in response to your touch, a broken moan escaping him as he comes undone in his sweatpants. His hips continue for a good thirty seconds through incoherent pleas and mumbles of your name against your nipple.

Once he has returned to earth he looks up at you like a kicked puppy, eyes again sparkly and glossed over with more tears as his lip trembles, expression completely fucked out but also lost and confused. He had never looked so vulnerable.

You stop him before he can even begin to apologize. Pulling him closer and cradling him in your arms as he sobs again. "Shh Jisung.. s'okay. I'm here and everything's okay you don't need to think right now. Let's just get you cleaned up and then we can cuddle okay?" He nods hesitantly in your shoulder and nuzzles into your hair. "Good boy, can you roll over for me?" You softly tap his hip to get him to lay on his back.

He does as he's told and looks up at you sadly with tears slowly falling from his eyes, but he tries his best to stay silent as you begin removing his pants. He's embarrassed but also too fucked out to do it himself. "I'll be right back, stay still for me." You walk out and into the bathroom before returning with a warm cloth.

You are careful and gentle as you removes his clothes, avoiding looking anywhere you don't have to in order to avoid embarrassing him any further. You then gently wipe him off, trying not to let yourself falter at his pained cries and whimpers of overstimulation.

Feeling you take care of him makes him feel safe and loved despite all of the mess that today has brought. However, he would also be lying if he said he didn't actually enjoy the way your touches hurt and overwhelmed him. He buries his desire for more and tries his best to simply be grateful for the amount you just gave him, when he totally deserved to be kicked right in the crotch for being a pathetic horny man who wants his best friend to ruin him.

You remove his shirt too, he isn't sure why really, he knows it isn't dirty. You then walk off to his closet and grab two of his baggy comfort tees and a pair of boxers from his drawer. He stays sniffling with a pout on his lips on the bed and doesn't even try to hide the way he watches your ass when you walk away, nor does he try to be subtle about checking out your lace panties and the way your boobs bounce as you walk back towards him.

He sighs content as you slide the comfy tee over his head and he raises his hips to help you with his underwear. He takes the other shirt from you and puts it gently on the bed before looking up at you and burying his face against your stomach as more tears fall from his eyes.

He's full on shaking now and he isn't exactly sure why. Nothing makes sense to him right now, his head feels funny, he's tired, mad at himself, embarrassed, ashamed, afraid, he has a head ache, he's dizzy. He's never felt so overwhelmed in his entire life. His arms wrap tightly around your body and he shakes with more sobs, body wracked with pent up frustration even his climax couldn't free him from. He can't even breathe.

"Baby.. please lay down Sungie.. please lay down for me." He chokes on a sob and gasps for air, whining as he forces himself to pull away and lay down like you tell him to. You grab the t-shirt from the bed and set it on the nightstand by his bed for later, picking up on the fact that he wanted it to stay off for now, whatever the reason may be.

He immediately curls into a ball sniffling, so fragile he may shatter if you aren't careful and you grab his favorite blanket from the side of the bed and drape it over him. You climb under it with him and he immediately sobs again and pulls you into him, desperately trying to be as close to you as possible. He knows how pathetic he must look but he can't help it. He's overwhelmed and so scared of losing you that he's now having a panic attack.

"Jisung.. You're scaring me, what's going on?" He starts hyperventilating at that, not wanting to have to explain his feelings for you, or why he did the things he just did, or how hard it is to be around you when you're.. well.. you. He doesn't want to have to say he's crazy about you, that he wants you to be his, that every little moment you share means so much more to him then it ever will to you, that every little seductive act you unconsciously make is agonizing to him. He doesn't even want to have to tell you about how work is stressing him out, about how tired he is. He doesn't wanna tell you that you're the only thing that makes it better, that you make everything better, and he simply cannot think straight with you around. That he doesn't even want to.

"I'm sorry baby, you don't have to tell me. I'm so sorry, breathe for me please. It's okay I'm right here, I'll take care of you." You rub his back and allow him to rest his head on top of your chest again. It's a comforting pillow and your hands, he swears they have healing powers, the way they make everything feel okay.

He gasps for air and tries to regulate his breathing. Holding your other hand up to his lips, his voice is hoarse and broken when he speaks. "Please.. Please d-don't leave.. Don't leave me.." His lips kiss your knuckles as he talks. He isn't opposed to begging for forgiveness and dropping on his knees to plead you to stay if it comes down to it.

"I'm not going anywhere, would never leave you bub." You kiss the top of his head and snuggle against him, tightly holding him close as you try to convey the truth in your words through your body. "Never."

"Really?" He looks up at you with sparkly sweet eyes, sensitive and wavering.

"Yes Hannie, would never leave you. You're irreplaceable to me, I love you."

He gasps, even though there's no evidence you mean it any way but platonically, he is taken off guard by the fact that you have never said those words to him in a format that wasn't a joke. For once he chooses not to overthink it, no matter how you mean it, he's happy.

He smiles brightly at you, the child like grin you've grown to love returning. "I love you too y/n"

You smile at him softly before pulling him back down into your chest, there you both fall asleep for the night. You, naked except for your panties under the blanket with marks littering various parts of your skin and him, almost fully clothed wrapped up tightly in your arms as if maybe you could shield him from every hardship of the world with your arms alone.

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Taglist: @my-neurodivergent-world

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