eveeot7 - Tumblr blog

eveeot7 · 2 years

Text

Let's talk about Namjoon who just wants to Feel Pretty.

[18+] Let's talk about Namjoon who might have a secret Pinterest board for lacy, delicate undergarments. Namjoon who spent a little too much time drunk and online, and buys a pretty, pink, lingerie set.

When it arrives in a discreet box, he hardly remembers buying it. He blushes red as he opens the lid and runs his fingers across the lace, the prettiest shade of pink he's ever seen.

He's momentarily mystified before swiftly closing the box, looking around the dorm, and running to his room. He throws the lingerie box on the bed and stares at it.

I mean, it’s already here. Might as well try it on.

So he shuts his bedroom door and clumsily strips, stepping into each tiny piece one by one, pulling the garters taught over the fullness of his thighs. Namjoon can’t help but look in the mirror and blush. The pink bralette is snug, pushing the soft curves of his pecs together. His dusky nipples barely visible and hardened from the rough texture of the lace. He shivers when the loose-fitting strap slinks downward over his shoulder.

He turns around to peek at the round swell of his ass, skin warm and golden against the pink garters, stockings a size too small, making the flesh of his thighs spill over the seam and kiss. He can’t help but chub up at what he sees as he turns back around. His shaft is straining against the lace, curving upward, his tip peeking out past the band, shiny and smooth.

He struggles to adjust the straps properly, and is so engrossed in the process that he misses Yoongi knocking and immediately barging in, a notebook in hand, “Joon-ah you left this in my—”

Yoongi drops the notebook.

Namjoon drops his hands to cover himself. Fruitlessly. “I’m so sorry, god, shit—I—I’m leaving…I'm leaving! Carry on!”

Yoongi steps back and closes the door behind him.

Namjoon is mortified.

Not one to leave things unsettled, he immediately grabs his phone.

NJ: hyung I’m so fucking sorry. NJ: i didn’t mean for anyone to see that. NJ: it was just something i wanted to try. NJ: hyung, fuck, please answer me…

It’s a minute before his phone pings with a response.

YG: joon-ah it’s fine. i should’ve knocked. it’s my fault. YG: i’m glad you’re trying things that make you happy.

Namjoon breathes a sigh of relief.

NJ: please promise you won’t tell anyone. i’m begging.

YG: joon-ah, have i ever shared your secrets?

NJ: no. you haven’t. i’m sorry you had to see that. i’m sorry.

An insufferably long pause lingers before the reply comes through.

YG: as long as we’re being honest here…i’m not.

Namjoon can feel his heartbeat in his thumbs.

NJ: you’re not?

YG: i’m not sorry.

YG: actually, wait. i am sorry for barging in. but you, wearing that fit? should never apologize.

Namjoon might fucking die. He tries to stuff down the panic attached to his long-held crush on his favorite hyung. Yoongi who is always quietly confident in his sexuality. Whose shy, lingering stares feel like 100 pounds on his chest. Another ping on his phone snaps him out of it.

YG: sorry that was forward.

NJ: no, it’s okay. really. thank you i think?

Yoongi is typing. Then stopping. Then typing again. Seconds pass that like feel like hours before more messages come through.

YG: you know… YG: if you need help YG: with adjustments, i mean. fitting… YG: i can help you out. no pressure

The thought of Yoongi’s hands on him in this state send his blood rushing south. Sure, they’ve seen each other naked. It’s hardly avoidable. But like this? Delicate and pretty and /open/ from so many angles?

Never like this. Fuck it.

Namjoon’s hands shake as he types.

NJ: yeah. ok. that would be helpful

He throws the phone on the bed like it’s on fire, clutches his t-shirt to his chest, and waits. This time, the knock is almost silent.

“Joon-ah? Is it okay if I—”

“Yeah. Come in,” Joon croaks.

“Should’ve done that earlier, huh,” Yoongi blushes as he enters and closes the door behind him. “This okay? I just…noticed you needed a little help. This isn’t entirely new to me.”

Namjoon nods his head. “You’ve helped with lingerie fittings?”

Yoongi steps forward. Namjoon’s skin shivers at the first touch of his hands, slinking a finger under the bralette strap, dragging it across his skin as he slips it in place.

“Just my own,” Yoongi says shyly.

“Oh.”

Yoongi blushes, smiling softly as he pulls the straps taught, glancing up briefly to meet Namjoon’s eyes before looking down again. “It feels nice, doesn’t it.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon admits. “Feels different.”

Yoongi clears his throat, keeping his eyes lowered as he works, “Feels different…how?”

Namjoon’s skin is on fire but the adrenaline has him feeling heady, maybe a little brave.

“Pretty,” he says in a low voice. Throat dry. “Feels pretty.”

Yoongi nods knowingly as he bites his lip. He taps his fingertips on it as he contemplates. “Want me to fix the back too?”

Namjoon nods, still gripping the t-shirt as he turns around, revealing the thong snug between the soft curves of his ass.

He hears Yoongi’s breath hitch. “I’ll just uh…adjust the garter straps,” Yoongi breathes as if coaching himself, before Namjoon feels fingers graze his thighs.

Yoongi works silently, but Namjoon’s pulse is thumping loudly in his head, dizzy from the rush of his hyung’s hands on him. Those hands—pink and large, fingers knobby and cool against his warm skin. He’s willing his half-chub to go down and spare him an early grave before he notices Yoongi has stopped moving.

The room is silent.

“Hyung? …You okay?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi breathes. “It’s just…this really suits you, Joon-ah. You’re…you’re beautiful,” he says so close to Namjoon’s skin, he can feel the hot puff of air from his lips.

Namjoon’s every nerve is on edge, feeling so overwhelmed that he fails to hold back the soft “ah—” from his throat as he arches backward, just a hair.

Just enough for Yoongi’s lips to graze his skin.

“Mm sorry—”

“No. No, it’s okay, hyung. I…I like it,” his voice shakes.

Namjoon can feel the air practically vibrating between them, can feel Yoongi’s hands tremble as they return to his skin, grazing his knuckles over his broad shoulders and down the muscular curves of his arms. “Do you like to feel pretty, Joon-ah?”

Namjoon feels like the air has been sucked from the room.

“Yes,” Joon hiccups, just a trace of shame in his voice, but it feels so good to say it out loud. Yoongi presses a feather-light kiss to Namjoon's back. He can feel the wet seam of his lips against his skin, pillowy and warm. He feels kisses trailing across his shoulder blades, hands now running delicately over Namjoon's thighs, tracing the garter straps with his fingertips.

“…Do you want to be pretty for me?” Yoongi whispers.

Joon hears a soft whine before he realizes it’s coming from his own lips.

“I’m gonna need you to use words, pretty.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon trembles, choking on his words. “Wanna be pretty for you.”

“Fuck,” Yoongi hisses. Namjoon feels fingers dig into his hips, feels Yoongi’s forehead tip forward against his back.

“Can I look at you, Joon-ah?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon whispers, breathless as he turns around and starts to lower the t-shirt in his hands, the skin of his chest blooming pink. Yoongi takes the shirt from him and gently drops it to the floor.

“Fucking hell—” he groans as he runs his fingers down Namjoon’s collar bones, dragging downward and pressing his large palms to his chest.

He squeezes and massages the soft flesh, watching it swell over the lace. Namjoon’s head tilts back with a sigh and Yoongi leans forward to graze his nose against his neck. Namjoon jolts as the sensation of his hyung’s fingers sneaking beneath the bralette, seeking out his nipples and squeezing gently before groaning into his neck. Namjoon nearly loses his balance, and Yoongi takes a hand and wraps it around him, digging his fingertips into the flesh of his ass and pulling it forward.

“Ah—ah-” Namjoon whines as their hips collide and he feels the tip of his cock exposed, peeking through the lace, rubbing up against the soft cotton of Yoongi’s t-shirt. “Hyung if you keep going like this I’m gonna come—”

Yoongi gets on his toes, pushing forward to press his lips against Joon’s ear. “Want you to come. Want to see you all flushed and pretty for me, get your pretty panties all dirty—”

“Fuck—fucking shit—” Namjoon feels dizzy, losing his balance again and tumbling back onto the bed. Yoongi follows him down, urging him further onto the bed until they hit the pillows.

They stop to catch their breath, Namjoon smiling in embarrassment and covering his face. Yoongi is having none of it—using his nose to nuzzle away Namjoon’s hands and pressing their lips together.

And it’s…so soft.

None of the frantic energy from moments ago. Just dragging their lips together, Namjoon getting lost in the feeling and comparing the softness of Yoongi’s lips against years of fleeting daydreams. His senses are electrified, savoring every detail.

The deep sighs that escape Yoongi’s lips, tickling his ears. The way his lithe body fits against his, the way Yoongi’s long fingers thread through his hair hold him like something precious.

It’s so much more than he imagined.

“My pretty Namjoon-ah,” Yoongi whispers fondly as he comes up for air. He flashes a gummy smile before dipping down and gently kissing down his jawline to his neck. “Let me make you feel good?”

“I’m not gonna last long, hyung—I can’t—”

But Yoongi is already snaking downward, sitting on Namjoon’s thighs. He leans forward and nuzzles the lace wrapped tightly against his cock, a featherlight touch. Joon feels warm breath against his cock and he’s throbbing, peeking further from the lace, twitching at the sensation.

Yoongi works upward and parts his lips in a soft 'O', letting the wet, fleshy part of his mouth linger on the tip before snaking his tongue around the top. Namjoon’s balls draw up tight, “Hyung—I’m gonna—”

Yoongi begins to nuzzle the lace-covered shaft again. “Go ahead pretty,” he groans. “Come for hyung, do it—”

Namjoon snaps, body pulsing in waves, hips jerking, ropes of white shooting upward and pooling on his skin.

Yoongi leans back and watches in awe, slackjawed, lazily milking Namjoon with one hand, sighing gentle encouragements as he palms himself through his shorts with the other.

Namjoon takes a deep breath, returning to earth before looking at Yoongi fondly. He reaches out and pulls him forward by the arms with a slight jerk, leaning upward to kiss him hard.

“Hyung, want you to come on me,” he pants.

“Yeah?”

“C'mon,” Joon works frantically, pushing Yoongi’s shorts down and releasing his cock and god it’s gorgeous. Long and slim and pink and fits perfectly in his hand.

Yoongi's soft thighs trap Joon in. He cries out when Namjoon begins to work his cock, “Close Joon-ah, I’m so close—”

“Want you to come on my tits, hyung,” Namjoon says, delirious, breathing into Yoongi’s mouth, jerking him in long, deliberate strokes, hands wet with his own release.

“Been such a good hyung, made me feel so pretty, don’t you wanna come for me?” he says as he thumbs the tip.

And that’s all it takes, Yoongi’s voice cracks as he spills over the edge, falling forward against Joon's neck and dirtying the delicate lace of Namjoon’s bralette.

And then he laughs.

They’re both laughing, pressing their foreheads together. Giggling from the high of it all.

“You’re pretty good at that, hyung,” Namjoon chuckles.

“Well…the first one’s free. Further garment adjustments may cost you.”

"Ouch," Namjoon scoffs, before leaning forward to press their lips together.

“However, I am a man of business," Yoongi adds. "But for someone as pretty as you, I’ll offer a discount."

“Thank you,” Namjoon playfully bites his lip. “Hmm…maybe next time, we can both be pretty?” Namjoon asks as he raises his brow. "You know, if you want."

Yoongi laughs and covers his face, blushing and nodding bashfully.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay, baby. It's a deal.”

Namjoon lifts a hand to trace his cheek.

He thinks it's the prettiest shade of pink he's ever seen.

♡♡♡♡

twitter | ao3

63 notes · View notes