Hope In The Sheets Part 1
Title: Hope In The Sheets
Pairing: OT7 BTS (Hoseok-centric)
Rating: NC17 (pure filth)
Dislcaimer: BTS own my soul, really. Can I get a refund? Wait, I'm not making any money (and really, you shouldn't be either).
Summary: Hoseok thought he'd buried his shameful needs deep enough, but considering that he'd lived on top of (and been on top and beneath and next to and inside) six other guys, it makes sense that they figured it out, even if Taehyung was respectful and didn't go snooping to find his panties to confirm it.
Warnings: crossdressing, oppa/appa/daddy kink, sort of genderplay because Hoseok is a good girl
Hoseok didn’t notice anything strange when he walked into their apartment a little after seven. He had wanted to stay at the studio to dance more, but he’d been threatened with death by a meddling hyung if he was not home in time for dinner. Everyone had time to actually eat dinner together. He was the last one home.
Jimin and Taehyung bickered over a video game, shouting out a hello to him in between cursing each other. There were sounds from the kitchen, including Jungkook’s laughter, so he assumed the maknae was pouting for handouts while Seokjin-hyung cooked. Namjoon and Yoongi-hyung were probably in their rooms with headphones in.
“Do I have time to shower?” Hoseok shouted toward the kitchen as he made his way through the apartment.
“Yes,” Seokjin shouted back, and Jungkook hollered a hello at his favorite Hobi-hyung.
Hoseok smiled. Yep, nothing strange. He still didn’t notice anything odd when he walked into the room he shared with Namjoon, except that Namjoon wasn’t there. Probably in Yoongi-hyung’s room, then working on a track.
It wasn’t until he tossed his bag onto his bed that his brain noticed something green on his black blanket. He turned around, confused. It took a long time to understand what his eyes were seeing. The shock and disbelief clouded his mind, and soon they were replaced with a sudden and painful shot of fear and ... and sickness. His stomach twisted, and his body jerked. He fell, to his knees, next to the bed. His vision blurred with tears, clearing only when he blinked and they fell.
Light green fabric. Soft, probably cotton. Not pastel green or mint green, but a dark light green. Hoseok did not know what to call the color. But the flowers embroidered along the skirt of the dress were various shades of pink and red. There were more flowers along the neck.
But Hoseok did not understand who or how ... He hadn’t bought it. There was no way ...
A piece of paper lay next to the pretty dress and Hoseok’s hands shook as he read the note.
Pretty Hobi--
Hoseok choked on a cry and tried to read the rest through his tears.
We thought you might like this. We think you’ll look so pretty. Wear it to dinner for us, yeah?
And six names, in six different kinds of handwriting. His teammates. His family. His brother. His lovers.
He crumpled the note in his hand and pressed his face to the bed. They knew. How did they know? Hoseok had been so careful. He only wore underwear that could be for girls or boys, and only wore his lacy pink pair when no one else was home. He wore the tights and stockings under sweats and jeans when he knew he could hide them.
But ... they knew! They ... How did they know?
He did not have time to cry himself into a frenzy before arms wrapped around his stomach and pulled him close. A scent of forests and mountains assailed his nose. Namjoon. Namjoon’s arms. Hoseok pressed his face into Namjoon’s chest and cried, the note held tight in his fingers.
Namjoon rubbed his back with one hand, trailed fingers through his hair with the other, and pressed soft kisses to his head. He murmured words that Hoseok did not understand. But they were calming, full of love, friendship, understanding.
When Hoseok’s sobs tapered to whimpers, Namjoon cupped his face in those large hands and smiled at him.
Hoseok blinked at him, unable to formulate words and his throat hurt.
Namjoon kissed his forehead. “Taehyung-ie caught a glimpse of a pair of tights one day during dance practice. He and Jimin-ie went on an investigation.”
Hoseok’s eyes went wide with fear.
“They never, ever invaded your privacy,” Namjoon assured him. “It’s not like they went through your drawers. Taehyung-ie is just too smart for his own good and started paying more attention to everything you did. The two of them saw more socks, pretty clips in your hair that you said were Jiwo’s, and they took you shopping more, and--”
Hoseok whimpered and hid his face, because there were so many times shopping where he’d been drawn to the pretty shirts and dresses of the women’s side of the store. He’d been subtle, he thought, but nothing bypassed Taehyung’s sneakiness when he had an idea in his head.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Namjoon whispered against his hair. “Don’t be. Please. As a team, we talked about it a couple weeks ago, and as your lovers, we decided that we failed you.”
Hoseok’s head shot up so fast that he almost whacked against Namjoon’s chin. “What?”
Namjoon touched his cheek again, a soft smile on his lip. “We’ve been spouting acceptance and self-love for how many years? And yet, one of our best friends, one of the loves of our life, our sunshine, our hope, has been hiding because he doesn’t feel accepted.” Namjoon tilted his head to the side. “Or is it that she doesn’t feel accepted?”
Hoseok swallowed and his eyes widened. “N-no. I ... I don’t know. I just ... I want ... I want to be pretty,” he finally mumbled.
Namjoon smiled and rubbed at his cheeks with his thumbs. “You are always so pretty, Hoseok-hyung. Clothes won’t ever change that, but we want you to stop hiding and just ... wear what you want, when you’re home.” He pried Hoseok’s fingers away from the note and then flattened it on the floor next to them. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to. But if you’re worried about the way we will react, then don’t be. We’ll support you in whatever you decide.”
Hoseok did not know how to react to that, so he just cried again, folding himself up in Namjoon’s arms.
When he felt calm-ish and able, he lifted his head and whispered, “Can you tell Seokjin--” he stopped, fear closing his throat for a moment. He shut his eyes and said, “Seokjin-oppa. T-t-tell-tell Seokjin-oppa to delay dinner?”
Namjoon brushed a finger over Hoseok’s closed eye, fluttering the lashes. “Of course, noona.”
Hoseok whimpered, and then stopped breathing again at the soft touch of lips on his. The lightest of kisses, the gentlest of fingers on his neck.
“Come on, up you get,” Namjoon said and stood up. He wobbled a little and Hoseok would have laughed, but his legs felt like jelly and he could barely stand. But Namjoon was still there, pulling him close, and Hoseok folded into him, arms curled against his chest, face buried in his neck.
“We will always support you,” Namjoon said. “I hope you know that.”
Hoseok nodded. “T-thank you.”
“Come on. I’ll help you to the bathroom for a shower.”
Hoseok smiled at the gesture. He was so thankful that none of the others were in sight. He could hear them talking softly from the other room. He wondered if they were talking about him. Namjoon made sure he was steady on the counter and gave him one more kiss and a few more smiles. “Take your time, noona,” he said. “Whenever you’re ready. Don’t worry about us. Jungkook-ie’s stomach will survive.”
Hoseok finally laughed.
Namjoon released him (thought it felt like his hands lingered longer) and he shot him a wink before leaving the bathroom. Hoseok sagged against the counter and brought his hands to his face. He was still so afraid, a little embarrassed that he’d been found out, but mostly just ... excited. He had no idea what was going to happen when he walked out into the main room in a dress. He’d only ever worn a dress once and that was when he was a trainee, before he was famous, and he was able to shop without a crowd a fangirls following him. He’d taken a dress into the dressing room with all the pants and shirts he’d chosen and then only worn it for a moment. But he’d loved it so much, the way it fell down his body and shifted on his legs.
Hoseok was eager to feel it again.
Pretty.
Hoseok wanted to be pretty. And prepared, just in case. He dug under the sink for a couple razors to use in the shower. He’d shaved his legs before, when a photoshoot required it, but it was something he wanted to do all the time. He figured that now he could. Now that the others knew, he could. He could shave his legs and pubic hair and no one would know except them. If a fangirl saw his legs, he would easily say it was for a photoshoot. He couldn’t shave his armpits though, because that would be too hard to hide. He hated the underarm hair. So he did the next best thing and cut it, still long enough to look natural.
In the shower, his hands were shaking too hard to dare to shave his pubic hair. He knew he was going to cut himself, so he grudgingly left it there. He kept himself groomed though, unlike Jungkook who cave-manned his body hair.
The sudden thought of one of the others shaving him had Hoseok freezing for a moment and then moaning. His dick twitched because he certainly liked that idea, laid back on a towel while Yoongi-hyung or Taehyung-ie touched him. Or both. God, if they both were ...
Hoseok moaned at the sudden image of him naked with all six of them around him. Later. Maybe that would happen later. If it did ... First things first. Clean, inside and out, just in case.
He finished his shower, feeling more like himself and pretty with his legs shaved. He dried off, lathered his legs with his favorite lotion (rose scented), and headed back to his room. Luckily, it was empty, and the others were still in the main room. There was laughter and Seokjin-hyung’s loud voice reprimanding the maknae for trying to sneak into the kitchen.
Hoseok shut the door as quietly as possible. He rubbed the towel through his drying hair and let the towel fall to the floor. Standing naked and feeling so vulnerable, Hoseok forced himself to look at the dress. It was hanging over Namjoon’s desk chair now. The other had probably moved it. It was really pretty with short sleeves and a scoop neck. Hoseok loved the detailing in the flowers. He really hoped it fit.
But first ... he went to his wardrobe and to the small drawers that he kept on a shelf hidden by his coats. There were only four small drawers. The bottom two had his socks tights. The middle one had his single pair of panties and bra, and the top held his more feminine accessories. He chose his socks first, a pink pair that he hoped matched well with the dress. They came up about to his knees and had cream bows at the top. He did not want to wear the panties since he didn’t feel quite pretty enough with all his pubic hair, but he did take out the bra. It had been his most daring purchase just before they debuted. He rarely ever wore it. Only when he was absolutely certain he was alone. It was pink too, but a darker pink, and had a hook in the front. It didn’t really fit, since he didn’t have breasts, but he’d gotten the smallest one possible. It had slightly padded cups. It was so soft against his chest and he held his breath while he stared at himself in the mirror with it on.
Anxiety flushed through his chest, and he held on tightly to the hope that Namjoon was right, that they wanted him to be himself, and do what he wanted, and they would accept him, even in a bra.
He had to believe it. If ... well, if he was wrong, and they laughed at him, then BTS would be short one member.
Hope. That’s who he was. It’s what he embodied. So he slipped on the pink socks, the ones with bows at the top, and a pair of underwear, a pair that he’d bought and said was a gift from the fans. They were briefs with the bands cupping his ass in just the perfect way. Again, they were pink, but a darker shade with a little heart on one ass cheek. He loved them so much.
Staring at himself in the mirror, Hoseok rolled his shoulders, releasing the fear, releasing the anxiety. He looked pretty enough, just like this. He twisted to look at his ass and the way the underwear cupped his ass.
The underclothes did not really match, all different shades of pink, but it was the best he could do. He wanted a complete set, bra, panties, tights, garters. God, he wanted garter straps to snap against his thighs.
But now ... now it was time for the dress. He wasn’t steady, not at all, but whoever chose this dress chose well, and it slipped over his head like a large T-shirt. No buttons. No zippers. Just soft cotton that slithered down his skin. He tugged on the skirt. The top was snug against his chest and the bottom flaring out from his waist. The skirt hit just above his knees, and he blushed at the image in the mirror.
Cute.
He ... hoped ... he really did look cute. The light green color went well with his skin, and all the pink matched the blush in his cheeks.
Glancing at the door, he now just needed to guts to step out in front of the others. Namjoon’s words repeated in his head. “We’ll support you in whatever you decide.” Namjoon was not a liar. The others would never do something so elaborate to prank him. He trusted them. He had to trust them. After everything they’d been through, he knew that he could trust them.
Taking small steps, Hoseok moved to the bedroom door. He took a deep breath and opened it. The socks quieted his steps as he went down the hallway. He stopped, just out of sight, and listened to the others talk. The conversation was mostly about their next album and Jimin’s new solo song, Promise.
The last couple steps into the room were the hardest steps he’d taken in his life. He stood, out in the open, blushing and looking at the floor. He tugged at the sleeve of the dress. He didn’t know who saw him first, but slowly their conversation trailed off. He didn’t dare look up.
“Can we eat now?” Jungkook whined.
Hoseok looked up so fast, and Taehyung hit Jungkook with a yell, followed quickly by Jimin.
“What? I’m hungry and noona took forever!”
Hoseok’s blush was dark and immediate, and the others froze. He felt their eyes on him and he struggled to swallow.
“Don’t mind him,” Seokjin said, coming up to Hoseok. He was slow and careful, and Hoseok appreciated that. He settled a hand on Hoseok’s arm, just below the sleeve of the dress. And then he touched Hoseok’s chin, lifting his head with a gentle movement. He smiled, and Hoseok shivered. “Are you ready to eat?”
Hoseok nodded and had to clear his throat before he could say, “Yes, oppa.”
One of the others groaned, and someone muttered, “Why can’t I be older than him?”
Hoseok blushed even harder and Namjoon told Taehyung to shut his filthy mouth.
Seokjin-oppa smiled at him. “Sorry. We know isn’t a sexual fetish thing,” he glared at the younger ones, “or at least they’ve been lectured on that, but we’re going to talk about that later and we’re going to eat first.” He held out his arm, and Hoseok hooked his hand at Seokjin-oppa’s elbow, using his body to hide from the others as they moved toward the table. Seokjin-oppa held out his normal chair and he sat, still blushing, and there was a bit of a mad dash to sit next to him, but Yoongi-oppa told all the young brats to sit in their seats.
And Yoongi-oppa sat next to him with an eye roll. “They’re horny, sorry.”
Hoseok whined.
Yoongi-oppa laughed. “You do look really pretty.”
“T-thanks, o-oppa,” Hoseok whispered, and Taehyung moaned again. And got smacked in the back of the head by both Seokjin and Namjoon.
Seokjin and Jimin brought all the food to the table, and things went on as normal. Or mostly normal. Hoseok was quiet, not really talking or doing more than nodding when someone directed a comment at him. He was still nervous, but Namjoon had been correct. They did not treat him differently. There were more looks slid his way than normal, a bit more heat buried under them. But they didn’t laugh or tease or kick him out of the group.
Hoseok did not eat much. On a normal night, Seokjin-oppa would be filling his plate with more food. But he only looked like he wanted to protest when Hoseok put his chopsticks down. Warmth moved close to his body and Yoongi-oppa whispered almost in his ear, “Are you through eating?”
Hoseok swallowed roughly and nodded.
“Me, too. Come on.” Yoongi-oppa stood up and held out his hand.
“But--” Taehyung said and tried to stand.
Seokjin-oppa pointed his chopstick at him and said, “No. You eat.”
Hoseok too Yoongi-oppa’s hand and let himself be pulled up and then close, Yoongi-oppa draping an arm around his waist, fingers flexing into the fabric at his side.
The maknae line grumbled as Yoongi-oppa led him away and toward the couch. He waited until Hoseok sat and then sat next to him. Hoseok didn’t know what to do with his legs, or how to sit. The skirt rode up to his mid thigh and he felt too exposed. He pressed his knees together, with his feet spread, socks sliding on the wood floor. He tugged the skirt down toward his knees and then balled up his hands on his knees when the dress just rode right back up.
Yoongi-oppa cleared his throat and said, “I have you for just a moment by myself and Namjoon-ie wanted me to ask you how you’re feeling. Apparently, I can keep control of myself better than the others. Or so they claim.”
Hoseok flushed and glance up at him. “I ... what?”
Yoongi-oppa smiled. “God, Hoseok-ie, you know you’re beautiful, right?”
Hoseok whined and put his face in his hands.
“Okay, so we’ll work on that until you believe that you’re beautiful. And pretty. So fucking pretty. But seriously, how are you doing? How are you feeling? Overwhelmed, anxious--”
“Happy,” Hoseok whispered. “Just ... yes, to all that, but ... I have you all, and you’re all being ... so I'm just ... happy. Happy, and ...”
Yoongi-oppa used his fingers on Hoseok’s chin to lift his gaze up and they stared at each other. “We want you to be happy, dongsaeng. Whatever makes you happy.”
“A k-kiss,” Hoseok sputtered.
Yoongi-oppa chuckled. “A kiss?”
Hoseok nodded. He remembered how softly Namjoon had kissed him before, and he knew that Yoong-oppai kissed just as sweetly when he wanted to.
Yoongi-oppa’s hand slid along his jaw, tightened and he leaned forward. Hoseok met the kiss with a whimper. It was just as soft as Namjoon’s and just a little longer. Yoongi parted his lips with a soft noise and Hoseok’s eyelids fluttered and he let out a sigh. Yoongi’s long, beautiful fingers trailed down his neck and along the scoop of dress.
“You’re so pretty, Hoseok-ie. So, so pretty.”
The couch dipped on his otherside, and Hoseok would have turned to look to see who it was but Yoongi-oppa deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue along Hoseok’s lower lip. His whimper turned to a moan and he opened his mouth, shifting in toward Yoongi-oppa. Another set of hands settled at his waist and lips touched his neck and then his ear.
“Hoseok-noona is so pretty.”
Jimin. With his small, strong hands. His fingers tugged at the material at his waist, and Hoseok was only partially aware of his dress sliding up his thighs.
But then hands slid up his thighs, pushing it farther and he broke away from Yoongi-oppa’s mouth with a gasp and tried to push the dress back down. Eyes wide, he met Jungkook’s concerned look. He was kneeling in front of him, hands now on his knees, fingers tracing the bone softly.
“I’m sorry, noona,” Jungkook whispered. “You have such pretty legs, is this okay?”
Hoseok swallowed roughly, trying to think with two sets of lips on his neck, hands on his legs and stomach, and two pairs of eyes watching from across the room: Seokjin-oppa and Namjoon.
“Tae-Taehyung ...” Hoseok tried to say.
“He lost rock paper scissors,” Jungkook said proudly. “He’s doing the dishes.”
“We’ll talk as soon as he done,” Seokjin-oppa said. “Until then, I do believe you were being kissed.”
Hoseok flushed and looked down, right at Jungkook again, and shut his eyes. He had to take a deep breath before he was able to say, “It’s ... it’s okay, Jungkook-ie.”
Jungkook’s cute smile had his eyes crunching almost shut and he shuffled closer and Hoseok spread his legs, an embarrassed flush heating down his chest. Jungkook, for all his eagerness, did nothing more than just run his hands up and down Hoseok’s thighs, top and bottom, along the sides, under his knees. He didn’t try for higher, and it kept Hoseok calm. He did not protest when Jimin turned his head and kissed him.
Jimin’s kisses were a little faster, but no less careful. He moved from one kiss to the next with little brushes of his tongue on Hoseok’s lips.
Yoongi-oppa’s hand settled on his stomach, fingers clenching with the small sucks he trailed down Hoseok’s neck.
And it was Jungkook, surprisingly, who picked up the whispered commentary of how pretty Hoseok looked.
Jimin and Yoongi-oppa took turns kissing him, their kisses going harder, deeper, and Hoseok only really breathed when they were switching. He heard more kisses going on elsewhere, and figured it was NamJin. The two of them were always making out somewhere.
Everything stopped and weight landed in Hoseok’s lap and he almost bit Yoongi-oppa’s tongue off.
“Back off,” Taehyung said and forced his knees on either side of Hoseok’s legs. “My turn.”
Jungkook protested with a growl and wrapped his arms around his waist, ready to lift him up and off. But Taehyung whined and pouted. “Please, noona, please. I ... no one would have known if it wasn’t for me, and I figured it out first, and if it wasn’t for me, they wouldn’t even be here to see how pretty you are and it was my idea!”
It was silent, and Hoseok stared at him, wide-eyed.
Yoongi-oppa broke the silence first. “While that is all true, dongsaeng, it doesn’t give you the right to use force, especially when it comes to Hoseok-ie. Apologize.”
Taehyung’s pout deepened, but he was contrite and said, “I’m sorry, noona. Please forgive me in the form of kisses.”
Hoseok laughed and nodded. “Fine, dongsaeng.”
Taehyung smiled wide and then had his hands on Hoseok’s cheeks, leaning in for a demanding kiss. Nothing soft and sweet about the way he held on and the way his tongue tried to see how far it could go down his throat. He made little whimpers in the back of his throat, noises that had Hoseok smiling against his mouth and wrapping his arms around Taehyung’s waist. They both shivered. He pushed his hands under Taehyung’s t-shirt to touch warm skin.
“Want ... want you to call me oppa, fuck.”
Hoseok moaned and thought about that. He was not the oldest among them, but ... maybe. Yes, he liked to wear clothes that made him feel pretty and feminine, maybe calling them all oppa, even the maknae line, would be the same. Not outside of their living room, of course, but if Taehyung wanted that--
“Not me. I’m not your oppa,” Jungkook said, and that had all of them laughing.
Hoseok smiled at the pout Taehyung was shooting him because their kiss had been broken. He tightened his grip on Taehyung’s bare hips and whispered, “Taehyung-oppa.”
Taehyung moaned and went right back to his mouth.
“Dongsaeng, stop it.” Seokjin-oppa grabbed his hair and yanked him back. “We are supposed to be talking.”
Taehyung whined, adam’s apple bobbing with his heavy swallows. “Don’t want to say anything except how pretty Hobi is.”
Hoseok blushed and buried his face in the nearest neck. Again, Yoongi-oppa’s.
The couch shifted as Namjoon sat next to Yoongi-oppa, really smashing into the space available. Seokjin-oppa sat on his lap, and Hoseok pouted because he really wanted to sit in someone’s lap too, but that meant disrupting Taehyung and Jungkook who had moved to the side and laid his head on his bare thigh. The skirt had already ridden up high enough that his underwear almost showed.
“You don’t have to move,” Seokjin-oppa said. “Just stop kissing him for a second.”
“Fine, but hurry and talk. I need more kisses.”
Hoseok shut his eyes and took a few heavy breaths, calming himself down. Or mostly. It was always hard to be calm when Taehyung was in his lap.
“You don’t owe us any sort of explanation,” Namjoon said, “but we’re here to listen if you want to.”
Jimin took one of his hands, holding his fingers in the curl of his smaller ones. Jungkook took the other from where it had been between his and Yoongi-oppa’s thighs. He brought it up to his mouth and kissed his fingertips.
“I think we all owe you an apology, too,” Yoongi-oppa said. Hoseok tried to protest but Yoongi-oppa shushed him with a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “We do. Because this isn’t supposed to be about sex. It’s supposed to be about you and your feelings, but I know we’re all at least partially hard thinking of fucking you in a skirt.”
Hoseok huffed and then bit his lip and said, “Well, I may ... may have ... had similar thoughts before, but ...”
“Sex talk later,” Seokjin-oppa said. “First we need to know what you’re thinking, Hobi, so we know what and how we should act. We want to be supportive of you, so we need to know what is going through your head.”
Hoseok waited while his thoughts aligned with what he wanted to say. “I don’t ... I don’t think I’m a girl, I mean, I don’t feel like I should have been a girl or anything, like I was born in the wrong body. I just ... I don’t know. Maybe I do. I mean, wouldn’t I know if I thought something like that though? I just ... I like the way socks and panties--”
Taehyung moaned and tilted his head back, ignoring the three different hands that smacked him.
“--I just want to feel pretty, you know? I’ve wanted to wear them since I was twelve or thirteen. Even before that, I wanted to wear a pretty skirt uniform to school, but I knew better than to say anything. I ... I like wearing them. I like wearing the tights because it’s easy to hide, and ... and I don’t mind calling you all oppa. I ... I’ve never owned a dress before.” He tugged on the skirt with the fingers still held in Jungkook’s grip.
“We’re going to buy you so many dresses,” Yoongi-oppa whispered against his ear in that heavy voice that always had Hoseok shaking.
“I ... I don’t know if I want to be a girl for real, but--”
Fingers carded through his hair. Seokjin-oppa’s, from an arm stretched behind Yoongi’s head. “But like this, with us, who do you want to be? Do you want to be our pretty boy or do you want to be our pretty girl, huh, baby? Which one?”
Hoseok flushed an even darker shade of pink and nodded frantically. “I want ... I want to be a pretty girl for you.”
“So pretty for us, baby girl, so pretty,” Taehyung said and caught his mouth in another long kiss.
“Oppa,” Hoseok moaned.
Taehyung echoed that moan and would have deepened the kiss even more if not for Jungkook standing, wrapping his arms around Taehyung, and this time lifting him up and away.
“Hey!”
“Shut up, and don’t be greedy,” Seokjin-oppa said. “You should know that safety is first. Hoseok-baby, what’s your safeword?”
“We already--”
Seokjin-oppa shut Taehyung up with a stern look.
Hoseok bit his lip and said, “Insect.”
“Good girl,” Jimin murmured and he got a kiss on both heated cheeks from Jimin and Yoongi-oppa.
“And what do you say if I ask what color you are?”
Hoseok’s head started swimming, just a little. “Green is good, yellow is slow down, red is stop.”
“Such a smart girl, so pretty and smart,” Yoongi-oppa said, this time kissing his lips between his praise.
Seokjin-oppa tugged on Hoseok’s hair. “Can you stand up for us, pretty thing? Let us see all of you in such a pretty outfit?”
Hoseok shivered, unsure. And then the rest of them added their support to it, filling the living room with a chorus of “pretty” and “beautiful.” With a steadying breath, Hoseok shifted to the edge of the couch, pushing the skirt up his bare thighs. He pushed up with his hands on Yoongi-oppa and Jimin’s knees and stood. Wobbled, unsteady. And then hands settled on his thighs, under the skirt. Strong hands. Strong support. Their strong maknae.
“Looks so pretty, noona,” Jungkook whispered and kissed his knee.
“Fuck, gorgeous,” Taehyung said and his hands went to Hoseok’s thighs and slid up. His head was on its way under the skirt before Jungkook yanked him back by his hair. He cried out, but pouted when Seokjin-oppa reprimanded him again. He pushed Jungkook away with a, “if I can’t touch her, then neither can you,” and then climbed into his lap. Jungkook laughed and accomodated him easily.
A tug on the dress had Hoseok turning back to the couch to face the other four. They were looking at him with the same level of want as Taehyung, just with a bit more control. Well, mostly; Namjoon was rubbing his dick through his sweats. Hoseok didn’t know what to do with his hands so he stood here with his hands in fists at his sides and his lower lip held tight between his teeth.
“Can you tell me what you like about the dress that Taehyung picked for you?”
Hoseok looked at the ground and unclenched one hand to tug on the dress. “I ... I like how soft it is.”
“So do we,” Yoongi-oppa said and placed a hand at Hoseok’s side, his fingers clenching a little in the muscle here.
“What else?” Seokjin-oppa prompted.
“It’s ... the flowers are so pretty,” Hoseok almost breathed, “all pinks and embroidered and pretty.”
“And the prettiest flower is wearing the dress,” Namjoon said, his voice low.
Hoseok whined in the back of his throat, completely embarrassed, and the others chuckled.
“Do you want to lift up the skirt and show your oppas what you’re wearing underneath ?”
“Fuck yeah,” Taehyung gasped. Hoseok glanced down at him. He leaned back against Jungkook’s chest, between his spread legs, with his own spread open and Jungkook was already stroking his dick through the hole of his boxers.
With shaking hands, Hoseok gripped the hem of the dress and lifted it up, bunching it up around his waist.
“Fuck, thought ... panties, but shit your ass is so fine,” Taehyung gasped.
“I like them,” Jimin said, “Love the way they stretch around your dick.”
“I want to eat something sweet like ice cream off those thighs,” Yoongi-oppa said. “Fuck they’re gorgeous.”
Hoseok dropped the skirt and brought up his hands to cover his face. A moment later, there were soft fingers wrapping around his wrists. “Don’t be embarrassed, love,” Seokjin-oppa whispered. “You’re so pretty. You’re so cute. All your oppas think you’re so beautiful.”
Hoseok buried his face in Seokjin-oppa’s shoulder, shivering as he ran his hands up and down Hoseok’s back and pulled the dress up past his ass again.
“Since this is the only dress you own,” Seokjin-oppa said, “I say you take it off. I think Taehyung is about to come already-”
“Fuck you.”
“It’s been five minutes, kid, calm own,” Yoongi-oppa added.
“Fuck. You.”
“--and I’m pretty sure all of us are going to make a mess of you. We don’t want to ruin the dress. Can you take it off?”
Hoseok shook his head. “I ... I ... there’s something else. I don’t ... I ...”
“Something else, huh? Can you show us?”
Hoseok whimpered and said, “I ... I can’t, but ... I want to, but I ... help me?”
“Help you?”
Hoseok pulled away, met Seokjin-oppa’s eyes for a moment, and then blushed a deeper pink. “Will you take off my dress, Appa?”
They all heard it, they all did, but the only one who said anything in the sudden silence was Taehyung shouting, “Fuck, fuck, did he just ... fuck, fuck, fuck.” Words failed in his orgasm and his pleasure-filled breaths filled the room.
And then Hoseok did the only thing he could do and turned around to run and hide, but Seokjin-oppa caught him around the waist, holding him tightly while Hoseok tried to free himself.
“It’s okay, baby. Come on, baby, it’s okay.”
“Sorry, I’m sorry. That’s weird, and I ... I meant, oppa. Yeah. I meant to call you ... I meant oppa, I promise. I did I ...”
“You can call me Appa if you want to, baby. It’s okay.”
Hoseok shook his head an whine. “It’s weird.”
“Yoongi has a dildo that has a literal knot on the base of it called the werewolf dildo, so you don’t get to decide what we think is weird.”
“You bought me that, you sick fuck,” Yoongi-oppa said.
“You use it on yourself, you sicker fuck.”
Hoseok sagged against Seokjin-oppa’s chest with a whimper. “I ... I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“I just ...”
“If you’re fine with it and I’m fine with it, then why are you sorry?”
Hoseok met his eyes. “You’re ... you’re serious? You’ll let me call you Appa?”
“If that’s what my baby girl wants ...”
“Oh god that’s so hot,” Taehyung grumbled, the words muffled around Jungkook’s fingers that were in Taehyung’s mouth. He tried to lick them clean.
“Do you want Appa to help you with your dress, baby?”
Hoseok bit his lower lip and nodded. “Please, Appa.”
Seokjin-appa kissed his lips again and said, “Arms up, pretty thing.”
Hoseok obeyed, lifting his arms above his head. Seokjin-appa didn’t just tug the dress up like Hoseok thought he would. He bent down enough to get his hands on Hoseok’s thighs and slid his hands up his body, skin on skin. One hand brushed over the erection in his underwear and the other went back to cup his ass, squeezing at the same time. A firm touch all over him, up and down his sides, and then again on his ass. Hoseok’s head was so light, his body shaking, and ... wow, those were his little whimpers as Seokjin-appa teased his skin with his fingers. He bunched the dress up around Hoseok’s waist and pulled their bodies together with hands on his ass.
Hoseok whined into the forceful kiss, following Seokjin-appa’s tongue. He wanted to grab and touch, hold on to Appa’s shoulders, but Appa said to hold his arms up, so he did, shaking and unsteady on his feet.
“Could kiss you forever,” Appa whispered.
“Yeah, well, some of us want a turn,” Taehyung mumbled.
Seokjin-appa smiled at Hoseok. “With all of us salivating and ready to come in our pants, do you still think you’re not beautiful, baby girl?”
Hoseok flushed and ducked his head.
Appa followed him and kissed him. “It’s because you’re so pretty, baby. Come on say it. I want to hear you say it.”
Hoseok swallowed roughly and said, “I’m ... I’m pretty.”
“So pretty,” Appa prompted.
“I’m so pretty.”
“Such a pretty girl.”
Hoseok’s fingers tingled, his knees almost buckled. “Pretty girl. I’m such a pretty girl.” There were moans around them, and Seokjin-appa smiled and kissed him. “Good girl.”
“I’m a good girl.”
“Hm, you are, and when you aren’t, do you want Appa to spank you?”
Hoseok gasped at the firmer grip on his ass, and he nodded. “Please, Appa, please.”
“Please what? You have to be clear,” Seokjin-appa said firmly.
A high whine had Hoseok blushing even more. Fuck, he was so fucking turned on, and for a moment, he had a clear image of himself from above, rocking back and forth on his socked feet, the dress up around his waist showing off his pink underwear, his hands above his head, and his skin shimmering pink with embarrassed joy.
“Please spank me when I’m naughty, Appa,” Hoseok said, eliciting even more moans from the rest of them.
“I will, baby. But only when you deserve it, and right now you deserve love and kisses and orgasms.” Seokjin-appa finally let go of his ass to continue to tug the dress up and over his head.
There were at least three instant shouts of surprise, and Hoseok didn’t dare turn to look at anyone, eyes on Seokjin-appa. His shock turned to a heated smile.
“Here,” Seokjin-appa said and held out the dress. “Fold it nicely. Good girls don’t toss their clothes all over the place, do they?”
“No, Appa.”
“Fuck, this is ... fuck,” Taehyung gasped.
Hoseok took the dress from him and made his shaking arms obey his commands to fold the dress and place it on the arm of the couch by Jimin. Jimin’s fingers slid down his arm when he was close enough.
“Love you, baby,” Jimin whispered.
Hoseok stuttered something that sounded like noises, but not words.
“Good girl,” Seokjin said and held out his hands.
Hoseok took them and stood there under Appa’s scrutiny. Appa held his arm up and spun him around to look at all of him in his bra, underwear, and socks.
“This is really pretty,” Appa said, running his finger along the back of the bra. “I’m so proud of you for having the courage to buy this even if you’d been shamed if you were caught. Baby girl is so good.”
Seokjin-appa kept him facing the couch and trailed his hands up and down Hoseok’s sides. Namjoon had his dick out and in his hand. Jimin and Yoongi were obviously hard in their own clothes, but their hands weren’t touching. It sounded like Taehyung was about to come again behind him.
Seokjin-appa touched the band of the underwear. “We really like these too, they show off your cock and ass so nicely. But --”
Hoseok whimpered at the slight change of tone, like Appa was disappointed.
“Shush, baby, it’s fine, I just want to know why you aren’t wearing panties? Something lacy and pretty to go with this cute bra and socks.”
Hoseok swallowed to get words out. “Not ... not pretty enough.”
“Well, that’s a lie,” Yoongi--oppa said.
Hoseok leaned against Seokjin-appa’s strong body and whined. “No, no, just ... hairy and ugly and ...” he didn’t know how to explain, so he pushed the band of the underwear down enough to show the short, trimmed hair around his dick. “Hairy. Ugly.”
Seokjin-appa hummed in understanding and helped push the underwear down more. His cock sprung free and the band hooked under his balls, pushing everything up. Hoseok cried out when Appa touched his dick, crooked fingers curled around the shaft. He stroked nice and firm and slow.
“I don’t think any of us would ever call you ugly, but you could definitely be prettier. Why didn’t you shave?”
Hoseok bit his lip and tried his best not to thrust into Seokjin-appa’s hand. “Wanted ... couldn’t. Too nervous. Want ... want you to help me.”
“Fuck,” more than just Taehyung said.
“You want us to help you shave,” Namjoon said.
Hoseok nodded. “Please, and ... and my ...” He whined and pressed back against Seokjin-appa’s dick.
“Your ass, too, baby, you want to be nice and smooth and pretty for all your oppas?”
“And ... and appas,” Hoseok said, glancing at Namjoon.
Namjoon’s eyes widened. “What the ...”
Seokjin-app chuckled, kissed Hoseok’s neck and gave him a little push in Namjoon’s direction. Hoseok wasn’t expecting it and he staggered and then almost fell. But Namjoon was quick to steady him with hands first on his thighs and then around his waist. Hoseok went right to his knees by the couch, kneeling between Namjoon’s long legs. He ran his hands on Namjoon’s thighs and leaned down with his mouth open to lick at his cock.
The swift and sudden spank on his ass had Hoseok yelping and jerking back and looking at Seokjin-appa who had followed him to the floor.
Seokjin-appa shook his head with a smile. “Now, now, good girls ask for permission first.” He rubbed at Hoseok’s ass.
Hoseok swallowed, eyes wide, and then turned to look at Namjoon. He licked his lips and Namjoon moaned, the grip on his cock tightening.
“Fuck,” Taehyung whined. “Why ... why is Namjoon first?”
“Namjoon-hyung,” Yoongi corrected, “and he’s the leader. Shut up. You’ll get yours.”
Taehyung moaned.
“Go on and ask,” Seokjin said and gripped Hoseok’s ass.
Hoseok took a deep breath and whispered, “C-can ... c-can I suck on your dick, please, Appa?”
Namjoon’s dick sure loved that, and he moaned and spurted clear precome onto his sweats.
“That sounded like you were asking Seokjin-hyung,” Jimin said suddenly. “I think maybe you should call him Daddy, in English. That way you can keep them separate.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Taehyung whimpered.
Hoseok glanced behind him at the two youngest, and Taehyung was somehow naked, rubbing himself against Jungkook’s body, his cock splurting another orgasm all over his thighs and the floor.
It made him happy. And made him feel pretty that Taehyung had already come twice and the other five were so hard and eager.
A/N: LJ made me split this into 2 posts because it's too long. Honestly, when are they going to get rid of the size limit. Comments are disabled on this part.
CLICK HERE FOR PART 2
.
Pairing: OT7 BTS (Hoseok-centric)
Rating: NC17 (pure filth)
Dislcaimer: BTS own my soul, really. Can I get a refund? Wait, I'm not making any money (and really, you shouldn't be either).
Summary: Hoseok thought he'd buried his shameful needs deep enough, but considering that he'd lived on top of (and been on top and beneath and next to and inside) six other guys, it makes sense that they figured it out, even if Taehyung was respectful and didn't go snooping to find his panties to confirm it.
Warnings: crossdressing, oppa/appa/daddy kink, sort of genderplay because Hoseok is a good girl
Hoseok didn’t notice anything strange when he walked into their apartment a little after seven. He had wanted to stay at the studio to dance more, but he’d been threatened with death by a meddling hyung if he was not home in time for dinner. Everyone had time to actually eat dinner together. He was the last one home.
Jimin and Taehyung bickered over a video game, shouting out a hello to him in between cursing each other. There were sounds from the kitchen, including Jungkook’s laughter, so he assumed the maknae was pouting for handouts while Seokjin-hyung cooked. Namjoon and Yoongi-hyung were probably in their rooms with headphones in.
“Do I have time to shower?” Hoseok shouted toward the kitchen as he made his way through the apartment.
“Yes,” Seokjin shouted back, and Jungkook hollered a hello at his favorite Hobi-hyung.
Hoseok smiled. Yep, nothing strange. He still didn’t notice anything odd when he walked into the room he shared with Namjoon, except that Namjoon wasn’t there. Probably in Yoongi-hyung’s room, then working on a track.
It wasn’t until he tossed his bag onto his bed that his brain noticed something green on his black blanket. He turned around, confused. It took a long time to understand what his eyes were seeing. The shock and disbelief clouded his mind, and soon they were replaced with a sudden and painful shot of fear and ... and sickness. His stomach twisted, and his body jerked. He fell, to his knees, next to the bed. His vision blurred with tears, clearing only when he blinked and they fell.
Light green fabric. Soft, probably cotton. Not pastel green or mint green, but a dark light green. Hoseok did not know what to call the color. But the flowers embroidered along the skirt of the dress were various shades of pink and red. There were more flowers along the neck.
But Hoseok did not understand who or how ... He hadn’t bought it. There was no way ...
A piece of paper lay next to the pretty dress and Hoseok’s hands shook as he read the note.
Pretty Hobi--
Hoseok choked on a cry and tried to read the rest through his tears.
We thought you might like this. We think you’ll look so pretty. Wear it to dinner for us, yeah?
And six names, in six different kinds of handwriting. His teammates. His family. His brother. His lovers.
He crumpled the note in his hand and pressed his face to the bed. They knew. How did they know? Hoseok had been so careful. He only wore underwear that could be for girls or boys, and only wore his lacy pink pair when no one else was home. He wore the tights and stockings under sweats and jeans when he knew he could hide them.
But ... they knew! They ... How did they know?
He did not have time to cry himself into a frenzy before arms wrapped around his stomach and pulled him close. A scent of forests and mountains assailed his nose. Namjoon. Namjoon’s arms. Hoseok pressed his face into Namjoon’s chest and cried, the note held tight in his fingers.
Namjoon rubbed his back with one hand, trailed fingers through his hair with the other, and pressed soft kisses to his head. He murmured words that Hoseok did not understand. But they were calming, full of love, friendship, understanding.
When Hoseok’s sobs tapered to whimpers, Namjoon cupped his face in those large hands and smiled at him.
Hoseok blinked at him, unable to formulate words and his throat hurt.
Namjoon kissed his forehead. “Taehyung-ie caught a glimpse of a pair of tights one day during dance practice. He and Jimin-ie went on an investigation.”
Hoseok’s eyes went wide with fear.
“They never, ever invaded your privacy,” Namjoon assured him. “It’s not like they went through your drawers. Taehyung-ie is just too smart for his own good and started paying more attention to everything you did. The two of them saw more socks, pretty clips in your hair that you said were Jiwo’s, and they took you shopping more, and--”
Hoseok whimpered and hid his face, because there were so many times shopping where he’d been drawn to the pretty shirts and dresses of the women’s side of the store. He’d been subtle, he thought, but nothing bypassed Taehyung’s sneakiness when he had an idea in his head.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Namjoon whispered against his hair. “Don’t be. Please. As a team, we talked about it a couple weeks ago, and as your lovers, we decided that we failed you.”
Hoseok’s head shot up so fast that he almost whacked against Namjoon’s chin. “What?”
Namjoon touched his cheek again, a soft smile on his lip. “We’ve been spouting acceptance and self-love for how many years? And yet, one of our best friends, one of the loves of our life, our sunshine, our hope, has been hiding because he doesn’t feel accepted.” Namjoon tilted his head to the side. “Or is it that she doesn’t feel accepted?”
Hoseok swallowed and his eyes widened. “N-no. I ... I don’t know. I just ... I want ... I want to be pretty,” he finally mumbled.
Namjoon smiled and rubbed at his cheeks with his thumbs. “You are always so pretty, Hoseok-hyung. Clothes won’t ever change that, but we want you to stop hiding and just ... wear what you want, when you’re home.” He pried Hoseok’s fingers away from the note and then flattened it on the floor next to them. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to. But if you’re worried about the way we will react, then don’t be. We’ll support you in whatever you decide.”
Hoseok did not know how to react to that, so he just cried again, folding himself up in Namjoon’s arms.
When he felt calm-ish and able, he lifted his head and whispered, “Can you tell Seokjin--” he stopped, fear closing his throat for a moment. He shut his eyes and said, “Seokjin-oppa. T-t-tell-tell Seokjin-oppa to delay dinner?”
Namjoon brushed a finger over Hoseok’s closed eye, fluttering the lashes. “Of course, noona.”
Hoseok whimpered, and then stopped breathing again at the soft touch of lips on his. The lightest of kisses, the gentlest of fingers on his neck.
“Come on, up you get,” Namjoon said and stood up. He wobbled a little and Hoseok would have laughed, but his legs felt like jelly and he could barely stand. But Namjoon was still there, pulling him close, and Hoseok folded into him, arms curled against his chest, face buried in his neck.
“We will always support you,” Namjoon said. “I hope you know that.”
Hoseok nodded. “T-thank you.”
“Come on. I’ll help you to the bathroom for a shower.”
Hoseok smiled at the gesture. He was so thankful that none of the others were in sight. He could hear them talking softly from the other room. He wondered if they were talking about him. Namjoon made sure he was steady on the counter and gave him one more kiss and a few more smiles. “Take your time, noona,” he said. “Whenever you’re ready. Don’t worry about us. Jungkook-ie’s stomach will survive.”
Hoseok finally laughed.
Namjoon released him (thought it felt like his hands lingered longer) and he shot him a wink before leaving the bathroom. Hoseok sagged against the counter and brought his hands to his face. He was still so afraid, a little embarrassed that he’d been found out, but mostly just ... excited. He had no idea what was going to happen when he walked out into the main room in a dress. He’d only ever worn a dress once and that was when he was a trainee, before he was famous, and he was able to shop without a crowd a fangirls following him. He’d taken a dress into the dressing room with all the pants and shirts he’d chosen and then only worn it for a moment. But he’d loved it so much, the way it fell down his body and shifted on his legs.
Hoseok was eager to feel it again.
Pretty.
Hoseok wanted to be pretty. And prepared, just in case. He dug under the sink for a couple razors to use in the shower. He’d shaved his legs before, when a photoshoot required it, but it was something he wanted to do all the time. He figured that now he could. Now that the others knew, he could. He could shave his legs and pubic hair and no one would know except them. If a fangirl saw his legs, he would easily say it was for a photoshoot. He couldn’t shave his armpits though, because that would be too hard to hide. He hated the underarm hair. So he did the next best thing and cut it, still long enough to look natural.
In the shower, his hands were shaking too hard to dare to shave his pubic hair. He knew he was going to cut himself, so he grudgingly left it there. He kept himself groomed though, unlike Jungkook who cave-manned his body hair.
The sudden thought of one of the others shaving him had Hoseok freezing for a moment and then moaning. His dick twitched because he certainly liked that idea, laid back on a towel while Yoongi-hyung or Taehyung-ie touched him. Or both. God, if they both were ...
Hoseok moaned at the sudden image of him naked with all six of them around him. Later. Maybe that would happen later. If it did ... First things first. Clean, inside and out, just in case.
He finished his shower, feeling more like himself and pretty with his legs shaved. He dried off, lathered his legs with his favorite lotion (rose scented), and headed back to his room. Luckily, it was empty, and the others were still in the main room. There was laughter and Seokjin-hyung’s loud voice reprimanding the maknae for trying to sneak into the kitchen.
Hoseok shut the door as quietly as possible. He rubbed the towel through his drying hair and let the towel fall to the floor. Standing naked and feeling so vulnerable, Hoseok forced himself to look at the dress. It was hanging over Namjoon’s desk chair now. The other had probably moved it. It was really pretty with short sleeves and a scoop neck. Hoseok loved the detailing in the flowers. He really hoped it fit.
But first ... he went to his wardrobe and to the small drawers that he kept on a shelf hidden by his coats. There were only four small drawers. The bottom two had his socks tights. The middle one had his single pair of panties and bra, and the top held his more feminine accessories. He chose his socks first, a pink pair that he hoped matched well with the dress. They came up about to his knees and had cream bows at the top. He did not want to wear the panties since he didn’t feel quite pretty enough with all his pubic hair, but he did take out the bra. It had been his most daring purchase just before they debuted. He rarely ever wore it. Only when he was absolutely certain he was alone. It was pink too, but a darker pink, and had a hook in the front. It didn’t really fit, since he didn’t have breasts, but he’d gotten the smallest one possible. It had slightly padded cups. It was so soft against his chest and he held his breath while he stared at himself in the mirror with it on.
Anxiety flushed through his chest, and he held on tightly to the hope that Namjoon was right, that they wanted him to be himself, and do what he wanted, and they would accept him, even in a bra.
He had to believe it. If ... well, if he was wrong, and they laughed at him, then BTS would be short one member.
Hope. That’s who he was. It’s what he embodied. So he slipped on the pink socks, the ones with bows at the top, and a pair of underwear, a pair that he’d bought and said was a gift from the fans. They were briefs with the bands cupping his ass in just the perfect way. Again, they were pink, but a darker shade with a little heart on one ass cheek. He loved them so much.
Staring at himself in the mirror, Hoseok rolled his shoulders, releasing the fear, releasing the anxiety. He looked pretty enough, just like this. He twisted to look at his ass and the way the underwear cupped his ass.
The underclothes did not really match, all different shades of pink, but it was the best he could do. He wanted a complete set, bra, panties, tights, garters. God, he wanted garter straps to snap against his thighs.
But now ... now it was time for the dress. He wasn’t steady, not at all, but whoever chose this dress chose well, and it slipped over his head like a large T-shirt. No buttons. No zippers. Just soft cotton that slithered down his skin. He tugged on the skirt. The top was snug against his chest and the bottom flaring out from his waist. The skirt hit just above his knees, and he blushed at the image in the mirror.
Cute.
He ... hoped ... he really did look cute. The light green color went well with his skin, and all the pink matched the blush in his cheeks.
Glancing at the door, he now just needed to guts to step out in front of the others. Namjoon’s words repeated in his head. “We’ll support you in whatever you decide.” Namjoon was not a liar. The others would never do something so elaborate to prank him. He trusted them. He had to trust them. After everything they’d been through, he knew that he could trust them.
Taking small steps, Hoseok moved to the bedroom door. He took a deep breath and opened it. The socks quieted his steps as he went down the hallway. He stopped, just out of sight, and listened to the others talk. The conversation was mostly about their next album and Jimin’s new solo song, Promise.
The last couple steps into the room were the hardest steps he’d taken in his life. He stood, out in the open, blushing and looking at the floor. He tugged at the sleeve of the dress. He didn’t know who saw him first, but slowly their conversation trailed off. He didn’t dare look up.
“Can we eat now?” Jungkook whined.
Hoseok looked up so fast, and Taehyung hit Jungkook with a yell, followed quickly by Jimin.
“What? I’m hungry and noona took forever!”
Hoseok’s blush was dark and immediate, and the others froze. He felt their eyes on him and he struggled to swallow.
“Don’t mind him,” Seokjin said, coming up to Hoseok. He was slow and careful, and Hoseok appreciated that. He settled a hand on Hoseok’s arm, just below the sleeve of the dress. And then he touched Hoseok’s chin, lifting his head with a gentle movement. He smiled, and Hoseok shivered. “Are you ready to eat?”
Hoseok nodded and had to clear his throat before he could say, “Yes, oppa.”
One of the others groaned, and someone muttered, “Why can’t I be older than him?”
Hoseok blushed even harder and Namjoon told Taehyung to shut his filthy mouth.
Seokjin-oppa smiled at him. “Sorry. We know isn’t a sexual fetish thing,” he glared at the younger ones, “or at least they’ve been lectured on that, but we’re going to talk about that later and we’re going to eat first.” He held out his arm, and Hoseok hooked his hand at Seokjin-oppa’s elbow, using his body to hide from the others as they moved toward the table. Seokjin-oppa held out his normal chair and he sat, still blushing, and there was a bit of a mad dash to sit next to him, but Yoongi-oppa told all the young brats to sit in their seats.
And Yoongi-oppa sat next to him with an eye roll. “They’re horny, sorry.”
Hoseok whined.
Yoongi-oppa laughed. “You do look really pretty.”
“T-thanks, o-oppa,” Hoseok whispered, and Taehyung moaned again. And got smacked in the back of the head by both Seokjin and Namjoon.
Seokjin and Jimin brought all the food to the table, and things went on as normal. Or mostly normal. Hoseok was quiet, not really talking or doing more than nodding when someone directed a comment at him. He was still nervous, but Namjoon had been correct. They did not treat him differently. There were more looks slid his way than normal, a bit more heat buried under them. But they didn’t laugh or tease or kick him out of the group.
Hoseok did not eat much. On a normal night, Seokjin-oppa would be filling his plate with more food. But he only looked like he wanted to protest when Hoseok put his chopsticks down. Warmth moved close to his body and Yoongi-oppa whispered almost in his ear, “Are you through eating?”
Hoseok swallowed roughly and nodded.
“Me, too. Come on.” Yoongi-oppa stood up and held out his hand.
“But--” Taehyung said and tried to stand.
Seokjin-oppa pointed his chopstick at him and said, “No. You eat.”
Hoseok too Yoongi-oppa’s hand and let himself be pulled up and then close, Yoongi-oppa draping an arm around his waist, fingers flexing into the fabric at his side.
The maknae line grumbled as Yoongi-oppa led him away and toward the couch. He waited until Hoseok sat and then sat next to him. Hoseok didn’t know what to do with his legs, or how to sit. The skirt rode up to his mid thigh and he felt too exposed. He pressed his knees together, with his feet spread, socks sliding on the wood floor. He tugged the skirt down toward his knees and then balled up his hands on his knees when the dress just rode right back up.
Yoongi-oppa cleared his throat and said, “I have you for just a moment by myself and Namjoon-ie wanted me to ask you how you’re feeling. Apparently, I can keep control of myself better than the others. Or so they claim.”
Hoseok flushed and glance up at him. “I ... what?”
Yoongi-oppa smiled. “God, Hoseok-ie, you know you’re beautiful, right?”
Hoseok whined and put his face in his hands.
“Okay, so we’ll work on that until you believe that you’re beautiful. And pretty. So fucking pretty. But seriously, how are you doing? How are you feeling? Overwhelmed, anxious--”
“Happy,” Hoseok whispered. “Just ... yes, to all that, but ... I have you all, and you’re all being ... so I'm just ... happy. Happy, and ...”
Yoongi-oppa used his fingers on Hoseok’s chin to lift his gaze up and they stared at each other. “We want you to be happy, dongsaeng. Whatever makes you happy.”
“A k-kiss,” Hoseok sputtered.
Yoongi-oppa chuckled. “A kiss?”
Hoseok nodded. He remembered how softly Namjoon had kissed him before, and he knew that Yoong-oppai kissed just as sweetly when he wanted to.
Yoongi-oppa’s hand slid along his jaw, tightened and he leaned forward. Hoseok met the kiss with a whimper. It was just as soft as Namjoon’s and just a little longer. Yoongi parted his lips with a soft noise and Hoseok’s eyelids fluttered and he let out a sigh. Yoongi’s long, beautiful fingers trailed down his neck and along the scoop of dress.
“You’re so pretty, Hoseok-ie. So, so pretty.”
The couch dipped on his otherside, and Hoseok would have turned to look to see who it was but Yoongi-oppa deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue along Hoseok’s lower lip. His whimper turned to a moan and he opened his mouth, shifting in toward Yoongi-oppa. Another set of hands settled at his waist and lips touched his neck and then his ear.
“Hoseok-noona is so pretty.”
Jimin. With his small, strong hands. His fingers tugged at the material at his waist, and Hoseok was only partially aware of his dress sliding up his thighs.
But then hands slid up his thighs, pushing it farther and he broke away from Yoongi-oppa’s mouth with a gasp and tried to push the dress back down. Eyes wide, he met Jungkook’s concerned look. He was kneeling in front of him, hands now on his knees, fingers tracing the bone softly.
“I’m sorry, noona,” Jungkook whispered. “You have such pretty legs, is this okay?”
Hoseok swallowed roughly, trying to think with two sets of lips on his neck, hands on his legs and stomach, and two pairs of eyes watching from across the room: Seokjin-oppa and Namjoon.
“Tae-Taehyung ...” Hoseok tried to say.
“He lost rock paper scissors,” Jungkook said proudly. “He’s doing the dishes.”
“We’ll talk as soon as he done,” Seokjin-oppa said. “Until then, I do believe you were being kissed.”
Hoseok flushed and looked down, right at Jungkook again, and shut his eyes. He had to take a deep breath before he was able to say, “It’s ... it’s okay, Jungkook-ie.”
Jungkook’s cute smile had his eyes crunching almost shut and he shuffled closer and Hoseok spread his legs, an embarrassed flush heating down his chest. Jungkook, for all his eagerness, did nothing more than just run his hands up and down Hoseok’s thighs, top and bottom, along the sides, under his knees. He didn’t try for higher, and it kept Hoseok calm. He did not protest when Jimin turned his head and kissed him.
Jimin’s kisses were a little faster, but no less careful. He moved from one kiss to the next with little brushes of his tongue on Hoseok’s lips.
Yoongi-oppa’s hand settled on his stomach, fingers clenching with the small sucks he trailed down Hoseok’s neck.
And it was Jungkook, surprisingly, who picked up the whispered commentary of how pretty Hoseok looked.
Jimin and Yoongi-oppa took turns kissing him, their kisses going harder, deeper, and Hoseok only really breathed when they were switching. He heard more kisses going on elsewhere, and figured it was NamJin. The two of them were always making out somewhere.
Everything stopped and weight landed in Hoseok’s lap and he almost bit Yoongi-oppa’s tongue off.
“Back off,” Taehyung said and forced his knees on either side of Hoseok’s legs. “My turn.”
Jungkook protested with a growl and wrapped his arms around his waist, ready to lift him up and off. But Taehyung whined and pouted. “Please, noona, please. I ... no one would have known if it wasn’t for me, and I figured it out first, and if it wasn’t for me, they wouldn’t even be here to see how pretty you are and it was my idea!”
It was silent, and Hoseok stared at him, wide-eyed.
Yoongi-oppa broke the silence first. “While that is all true, dongsaeng, it doesn’t give you the right to use force, especially when it comes to Hoseok-ie. Apologize.”
Taehyung’s pout deepened, but he was contrite and said, “I’m sorry, noona. Please forgive me in the form of kisses.”
Hoseok laughed and nodded. “Fine, dongsaeng.”
Taehyung smiled wide and then had his hands on Hoseok’s cheeks, leaning in for a demanding kiss. Nothing soft and sweet about the way he held on and the way his tongue tried to see how far it could go down his throat. He made little whimpers in the back of his throat, noises that had Hoseok smiling against his mouth and wrapping his arms around Taehyung’s waist. They both shivered. He pushed his hands under Taehyung’s t-shirt to touch warm skin.
“Want ... want you to call me oppa, fuck.”
Hoseok moaned and thought about that. He was not the oldest among them, but ... maybe. Yes, he liked to wear clothes that made him feel pretty and feminine, maybe calling them all oppa, even the maknae line, would be the same. Not outside of their living room, of course, but if Taehyung wanted that--
“Not me. I’m not your oppa,” Jungkook said, and that had all of them laughing.
Hoseok smiled at the pout Taehyung was shooting him because their kiss had been broken. He tightened his grip on Taehyung’s bare hips and whispered, “Taehyung-oppa.”
Taehyung moaned and went right back to his mouth.
“Dongsaeng, stop it.” Seokjin-oppa grabbed his hair and yanked him back. “We are supposed to be talking.”
Taehyung whined, adam’s apple bobbing with his heavy swallows. “Don’t want to say anything except how pretty Hobi is.”
Hoseok blushed and buried his face in the nearest neck. Again, Yoongi-oppa’s.
The couch shifted as Namjoon sat next to Yoongi-oppa, really smashing into the space available. Seokjin-oppa sat on his lap, and Hoseok pouted because he really wanted to sit in someone’s lap too, but that meant disrupting Taehyung and Jungkook who had moved to the side and laid his head on his bare thigh. The skirt had already ridden up high enough that his underwear almost showed.
“You don’t have to move,” Seokjin-oppa said. “Just stop kissing him for a second.”
“Fine, but hurry and talk. I need more kisses.”
Hoseok shut his eyes and took a few heavy breaths, calming himself down. Or mostly. It was always hard to be calm when Taehyung was in his lap.
“You don’t owe us any sort of explanation,” Namjoon said, “but we’re here to listen if you want to.”
Jimin took one of his hands, holding his fingers in the curl of his smaller ones. Jungkook took the other from where it had been between his and Yoongi-oppa’s thighs. He brought it up to his mouth and kissed his fingertips.
“I think we all owe you an apology, too,” Yoongi-oppa said. Hoseok tried to protest but Yoongi-oppa shushed him with a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “We do. Because this isn’t supposed to be about sex. It’s supposed to be about you and your feelings, but I know we’re all at least partially hard thinking of fucking you in a skirt.”
Hoseok huffed and then bit his lip and said, “Well, I may ... may have ... had similar thoughts before, but ...”
“Sex talk later,” Seokjin-oppa said. “First we need to know what you’re thinking, Hobi, so we know what and how we should act. We want to be supportive of you, so we need to know what is going through your head.”
Hoseok waited while his thoughts aligned with what he wanted to say. “I don’t ... I don’t think I’m a girl, I mean, I don’t feel like I should have been a girl or anything, like I was born in the wrong body. I just ... I don’t know. Maybe I do. I mean, wouldn’t I know if I thought something like that though? I just ... I like the way socks and panties--”
Taehyung moaned and tilted his head back, ignoring the three different hands that smacked him.
“--I just want to feel pretty, you know? I’ve wanted to wear them since I was twelve or thirteen. Even before that, I wanted to wear a pretty skirt uniform to school, but I knew better than to say anything. I ... I like wearing them. I like wearing the tights because it’s easy to hide, and ... and I don’t mind calling you all oppa. I ... I’ve never owned a dress before.” He tugged on the skirt with the fingers still held in Jungkook’s grip.
“We’re going to buy you so many dresses,” Yoongi-oppa whispered against his ear in that heavy voice that always had Hoseok shaking.
“I ... I don’t know if I want to be a girl for real, but--”
Fingers carded through his hair. Seokjin-oppa’s, from an arm stretched behind Yoongi’s head. “But like this, with us, who do you want to be? Do you want to be our pretty boy or do you want to be our pretty girl, huh, baby? Which one?”
Hoseok flushed an even darker shade of pink and nodded frantically. “I want ... I want to be a pretty girl for you.”
“So pretty for us, baby girl, so pretty,” Taehyung said and caught his mouth in another long kiss.
“Oppa,” Hoseok moaned.
Taehyung echoed that moan and would have deepened the kiss even more if not for Jungkook standing, wrapping his arms around Taehyung, and this time lifting him up and away.
“Hey!”
“Shut up, and don’t be greedy,” Seokjin-oppa said. “You should know that safety is first. Hoseok-baby, what’s your safeword?”
“We already--”
Seokjin-oppa shut Taehyung up with a stern look.
Hoseok bit his lip and said, “Insect.”
“Good girl,” Jimin murmured and he got a kiss on both heated cheeks from Jimin and Yoongi-oppa.
“And what do you say if I ask what color you are?”
Hoseok’s head started swimming, just a little. “Green is good, yellow is slow down, red is stop.”
“Such a smart girl, so pretty and smart,” Yoongi-oppa said, this time kissing his lips between his praise.
Seokjin-oppa tugged on Hoseok’s hair. “Can you stand up for us, pretty thing? Let us see all of you in such a pretty outfit?”
Hoseok shivered, unsure. And then the rest of them added their support to it, filling the living room with a chorus of “pretty” and “beautiful.” With a steadying breath, Hoseok shifted to the edge of the couch, pushing the skirt up his bare thighs. He pushed up with his hands on Yoongi-oppa and Jimin’s knees and stood. Wobbled, unsteady. And then hands settled on his thighs, under the skirt. Strong hands. Strong support. Their strong maknae.
“Looks so pretty, noona,” Jungkook whispered and kissed his knee.
“Fuck, gorgeous,” Taehyung said and his hands went to Hoseok’s thighs and slid up. His head was on its way under the skirt before Jungkook yanked him back by his hair. He cried out, but pouted when Seokjin-oppa reprimanded him again. He pushed Jungkook away with a, “if I can’t touch her, then neither can you,” and then climbed into his lap. Jungkook laughed and accomodated him easily.
A tug on the dress had Hoseok turning back to the couch to face the other four. They were looking at him with the same level of want as Taehyung, just with a bit more control. Well, mostly; Namjoon was rubbing his dick through his sweats. Hoseok didn’t know what to do with his hands so he stood here with his hands in fists at his sides and his lower lip held tight between his teeth.
“Can you tell me what you like about the dress that Taehyung picked for you?”
Hoseok looked at the ground and unclenched one hand to tug on the dress. “I ... I like how soft it is.”
“So do we,” Yoongi-oppa said and placed a hand at Hoseok’s side, his fingers clenching a little in the muscle here.
“What else?” Seokjin-oppa prompted.
“It’s ... the flowers are so pretty,” Hoseok almost breathed, “all pinks and embroidered and pretty.”
“And the prettiest flower is wearing the dress,” Namjoon said, his voice low.
Hoseok whined in the back of his throat, completely embarrassed, and the others chuckled.
“Do you want to lift up the skirt and show your oppas what you’re wearing underneath ?”
“Fuck yeah,” Taehyung gasped. Hoseok glanced down at him. He leaned back against Jungkook’s chest, between his spread legs, with his own spread open and Jungkook was already stroking his dick through the hole of his boxers.
With shaking hands, Hoseok gripped the hem of the dress and lifted it up, bunching it up around his waist.
“Fuck, thought ... panties, but shit your ass is so fine,” Taehyung gasped.
“I like them,” Jimin said, “Love the way they stretch around your dick.”
“I want to eat something sweet like ice cream off those thighs,” Yoongi-oppa said. “Fuck they’re gorgeous.”
Hoseok dropped the skirt and brought up his hands to cover his face. A moment later, there were soft fingers wrapping around his wrists. “Don’t be embarrassed, love,” Seokjin-oppa whispered. “You’re so pretty. You’re so cute. All your oppas think you’re so beautiful.”
Hoseok buried his face in Seokjin-oppa’s shoulder, shivering as he ran his hands up and down Hoseok’s back and pulled the dress up past his ass again.
“Since this is the only dress you own,” Seokjin-oppa said, “I say you take it off. I think Taehyung is about to come already-”
“Fuck you.”
“It’s been five minutes, kid, calm own,” Yoongi-oppa added.
“Fuck. You.”
“--and I’m pretty sure all of us are going to make a mess of you. We don’t want to ruin the dress. Can you take it off?”
Hoseok shook his head. “I ... I ... there’s something else. I don’t ... I ...”
“Something else, huh? Can you show us?”
Hoseok whimpered and said, “I ... I can’t, but ... I want to, but I ... help me?”
“Help you?”
Hoseok pulled away, met Seokjin-oppa’s eyes for a moment, and then blushed a deeper pink. “Will you take off my dress, Appa?”
They all heard it, they all did, but the only one who said anything in the sudden silence was Taehyung shouting, “Fuck, fuck, did he just ... fuck, fuck, fuck.” Words failed in his orgasm and his pleasure-filled breaths filled the room.
And then Hoseok did the only thing he could do and turned around to run and hide, but Seokjin-oppa caught him around the waist, holding him tightly while Hoseok tried to free himself.
“It’s okay, baby. Come on, baby, it’s okay.”
“Sorry, I’m sorry. That’s weird, and I ... I meant, oppa. Yeah. I meant to call you ... I meant oppa, I promise. I did I ...”
“You can call me Appa if you want to, baby. It’s okay.”
Hoseok shook his head an whine. “It’s weird.”
“Yoongi has a dildo that has a literal knot on the base of it called the werewolf dildo, so you don’t get to decide what we think is weird.”
“You bought me that, you sick fuck,” Yoongi-oppa said.
“You use it on yourself, you sicker fuck.”
Hoseok sagged against Seokjin-oppa’s chest with a whimper. “I ... I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“I just ...”
“If you’re fine with it and I’m fine with it, then why are you sorry?”
Hoseok met his eyes. “You’re ... you’re serious? You’ll let me call you Appa?”
“If that’s what my baby girl wants ...”
“Oh god that’s so hot,” Taehyung grumbled, the words muffled around Jungkook’s fingers that were in Taehyung’s mouth. He tried to lick them clean.
“Do you want Appa to help you with your dress, baby?”
Hoseok bit his lower lip and nodded. “Please, Appa.”
Seokjin-appa kissed his lips again and said, “Arms up, pretty thing.”
Hoseok obeyed, lifting his arms above his head. Seokjin-appa didn’t just tug the dress up like Hoseok thought he would. He bent down enough to get his hands on Hoseok’s thighs and slid his hands up his body, skin on skin. One hand brushed over the erection in his underwear and the other went back to cup his ass, squeezing at the same time. A firm touch all over him, up and down his sides, and then again on his ass. Hoseok’s head was so light, his body shaking, and ... wow, those were his little whimpers as Seokjin-appa teased his skin with his fingers. He bunched the dress up around Hoseok’s waist and pulled their bodies together with hands on his ass.
Hoseok whined into the forceful kiss, following Seokjin-appa’s tongue. He wanted to grab and touch, hold on to Appa’s shoulders, but Appa said to hold his arms up, so he did, shaking and unsteady on his feet.
“Could kiss you forever,” Appa whispered.
“Yeah, well, some of us want a turn,” Taehyung mumbled.
Seokjin-appa smiled at Hoseok. “With all of us salivating and ready to come in our pants, do you still think you’re not beautiful, baby girl?”
Hoseok flushed and ducked his head.
Appa followed him and kissed him. “It’s because you’re so pretty, baby. Come on say it. I want to hear you say it.”
Hoseok swallowed roughly and said, “I’m ... I’m pretty.”
“So pretty,” Appa prompted.
“I’m so pretty.”
“Such a pretty girl.”
Hoseok’s fingers tingled, his knees almost buckled. “Pretty girl. I’m such a pretty girl.” There were moans around them, and Seokjin-appa smiled and kissed him. “Good girl.”
“I’m a good girl.”
“Hm, you are, and when you aren’t, do you want Appa to spank you?”
Hoseok gasped at the firmer grip on his ass, and he nodded. “Please, Appa, please.”
“Please what? You have to be clear,” Seokjin-appa said firmly.
A high whine had Hoseok blushing even more. Fuck, he was so fucking turned on, and for a moment, he had a clear image of himself from above, rocking back and forth on his socked feet, the dress up around his waist showing off his pink underwear, his hands above his head, and his skin shimmering pink with embarrassed joy.
“Please spank me when I’m naughty, Appa,” Hoseok said, eliciting even more moans from the rest of them.
“I will, baby. But only when you deserve it, and right now you deserve love and kisses and orgasms.” Seokjin-appa finally let go of his ass to continue to tug the dress up and over his head.
There were at least three instant shouts of surprise, and Hoseok didn’t dare turn to look at anyone, eyes on Seokjin-appa. His shock turned to a heated smile.
“Here,” Seokjin-appa said and held out the dress. “Fold it nicely. Good girls don’t toss their clothes all over the place, do they?”
“No, Appa.”
“Fuck, this is ... fuck,” Taehyung gasped.
Hoseok took the dress from him and made his shaking arms obey his commands to fold the dress and place it on the arm of the couch by Jimin. Jimin’s fingers slid down his arm when he was close enough.
“Love you, baby,” Jimin whispered.
Hoseok stuttered something that sounded like noises, but not words.
“Good girl,” Seokjin said and held out his hands.
Hoseok took them and stood there under Appa’s scrutiny. Appa held his arm up and spun him around to look at all of him in his bra, underwear, and socks.
“This is really pretty,” Appa said, running his finger along the back of the bra. “I’m so proud of you for having the courage to buy this even if you’d been shamed if you were caught. Baby girl is so good.”
Seokjin-appa kept him facing the couch and trailed his hands up and down Hoseok’s sides. Namjoon had his dick out and in his hand. Jimin and Yoongi were obviously hard in their own clothes, but their hands weren’t touching. It sounded like Taehyung was about to come again behind him.
Seokjin-appa touched the band of the underwear. “We really like these too, they show off your cock and ass so nicely. But --”
Hoseok whimpered at the slight change of tone, like Appa was disappointed.
“Shush, baby, it’s fine, I just want to know why you aren’t wearing panties? Something lacy and pretty to go with this cute bra and socks.”
Hoseok swallowed to get words out. “Not ... not pretty enough.”
“Well, that’s a lie,” Yoongi--oppa said.
Hoseok leaned against Seokjin-appa’s strong body and whined. “No, no, just ... hairy and ugly and ...” he didn’t know how to explain, so he pushed the band of the underwear down enough to show the short, trimmed hair around his dick. “Hairy. Ugly.”
Seokjin-appa hummed in understanding and helped push the underwear down more. His cock sprung free and the band hooked under his balls, pushing everything up. Hoseok cried out when Appa touched his dick, crooked fingers curled around the shaft. He stroked nice and firm and slow.
“I don’t think any of us would ever call you ugly, but you could definitely be prettier. Why didn’t you shave?”
Hoseok bit his lip and tried his best not to thrust into Seokjin-appa’s hand. “Wanted ... couldn’t. Too nervous. Want ... want you to help me.”
“Fuck,” more than just Taehyung said.
“You want us to help you shave,” Namjoon said.
Hoseok nodded. “Please, and ... and my ...” He whined and pressed back against Seokjin-appa’s dick.
“Your ass, too, baby, you want to be nice and smooth and pretty for all your oppas?”
“And ... and appas,” Hoseok said, glancing at Namjoon.
Namjoon’s eyes widened. “What the ...”
Seokjin-app chuckled, kissed Hoseok’s neck and gave him a little push in Namjoon’s direction. Hoseok wasn’t expecting it and he staggered and then almost fell. But Namjoon was quick to steady him with hands first on his thighs and then around his waist. Hoseok went right to his knees by the couch, kneeling between Namjoon’s long legs. He ran his hands on Namjoon’s thighs and leaned down with his mouth open to lick at his cock.
The swift and sudden spank on his ass had Hoseok yelping and jerking back and looking at Seokjin-appa who had followed him to the floor.
Seokjin-appa shook his head with a smile. “Now, now, good girls ask for permission first.” He rubbed at Hoseok’s ass.
Hoseok swallowed, eyes wide, and then turned to look at Namjoon. He licked his lips and Namjoon moaned, the grip on his cock tightening.
“Fuck,” Taehyung whined. “Why ... why is Namjoon first?”
“Namjoon-hyung,” Yoongi corrected, “and he’s the leader. Shut up. You’ll get yours.”
Taehyung moaned.
“Go on and ask,” Seokjin said and gripped Hoseok’s ass.
Hoseok took a deep breath and whispered, “C-can ... c-can I suck on your dick, please, Appa?”
Namjoon’s dick sure loved that, and he moaned and spurted clear precome onto his sweats.
“That sounded like you were asking Seokjin-hyung,” Jimin said suddenly. “I think maybe you should call him Daddy, in English. That way you can keep them separate.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Taehyung whimpered.
Hoseok glanced behind him at the two youngest, and Taehyung was somehow naked, rubbing himself against Jungkook’s body, his cock splurting another orgasm all over his thighs and the floor.
It made him happy. And made him feel pretty that Taehyung had already come twice and the other five were so hard and eager.
A/N: LJ made me split this into 2 posts because it's too long. Honestly, when are they going to get rid of the size limit. Comments are disabled on this part.
CLICK HERE FOR PART 2
.