Chapter Text
“Oh, yes, yes, yes!”
Yoongi chirped silently, feeling nothing but pure joy as he ripped off the brown tape from the carton box on the floor in front of him.
It was better than he’d ever imagined.
The new Barbie & Shelly Dream House Pool Party dolls.
“Oh wow.”
With the most careful, gentle touch he picked up Barbie’s plastic box and put her on his lap, over his bright pink silk night gown. Her hair was blonde on the other side of the plastic, her eyes clear blue. It was one of those dolls that had joins so you could bend their arms and knees. A real rarity. This was number 885 out of the only 1000 sold in South Korea.
He was so happy. He couldn’t stop smiling. He picked up Shelly’s container as well, compared it to Barbie. His heart was thrumming and his palms were damp. His eyes flicked to his sparse black bookshelf. If he could he would’ve put them on display there. His secret Barbie collection. But it was just that. Secret.
Nothing for an idol to do as a past time.
But…
With one glance at his closed door he found himself giggling. Tonight he had the dorm all for himself. And he bounced up from the floor, or well, he took his time and grimaced as he forced himself to get up from the lovely position of sitting, and found a good place for his new Barbies on his bookshelf.
When he was at it he grabbed the other eight from where he hid them under his bed. Lined them all up beside each other. His favourite was the Barbie & My Best Friend set, with the little brown poodle that always reminded him of Holly.
Must be nice. Being a Barbie doll. Being made of plastic. Not moving an inch on your own, not even breathing. Only living for playing, only looking pretty. Lying still in the darkness under a bed for hours on end.
Being a good girl.
Sighing, he fell into his bed. He’d draped his baby pink comforter over it earlier, and he grabbed his pacifier from his night stand with a pout, before guiding it between his lips and sucking on it. He loved his pacifier even more than the dolls. It was soothing, in ways he wasn’t sure how to word or explain. He just felt small. And he liked feeling small.
But then there was that. Because the more he lied in his bed sucking on the pacifier, eyes skipping between the pretty dolls on his shelf, the hotter he started to feel. A squeeze in his lower stomach. It always came to this. But tonight he was alone.
He’d planned for this all week. Planned his excuse when the rest of the guys said they wanted to eat out after the last practise on Friday night. Yoongi was tired after dancing and was never sleeping enough. He’d go to bed early.
“Bye bye hyung don’t miss us too much.”
“No, I’m sure I can occupy myself.”
Before he knew it he was pulling out more stuff from under his bed. Draping the pink socks over his knees. He grabbed a shameful pair of panties before his fingers graced something crusty. His stomach swooped and he bit down on the plastic of the pacifier. Sent one more nervous glance at the door. Had he locked it? He was home alone anyway.
And with that he grabbed one of his diapers before he could change his mind. It got harder to breathe. He breathed in shaky erratic huffs as he draped the diaper over his thin legs and fastened it over his crotch. He usually didn’t wear anything under his gown. He still had a hard time accepting the whole getting off from wearing a diaper thing.
But it felt so good. The way the material felt against his skin was an instant turn on. He fell back in bed with a whine, one hand instantly slipping between his legs to rub against the material, grind it harder against his groin.
He spread his legs wide. He liked doing that too. He knew he was perverted. Disgusting probably. Dressing up like a little girl only to get himself off. He just loved the feeling of being little, small and helpless. He felt even dirtier then. Because it was wrong. Looking like this while touching yourself.
The thrumming hotness tingled down his skin, and he felt his whimpers grew louder. He palmed his dick over the material of the diaper, a blush creeping down his cheeks, heart thrumming in his chest. He sucked harder on the pacifier, as if he wished to choke on it. He was growing hard, the soft feel of the diaper against his skin too inviting.
“Pwease, pwease,” He whined around the pacifier, hand palming himself harder. He always loved this part. The slipping. Slowly slipping into this character that had nothing to do with Min Yoongi. Slipping away until he was only something easy, something simple, something so very very innocent.
The pacifier tasted like hard plastic around his tongue. He brought one hand to play with his nipple over the soft material of his dress as his other one finally slid in under the diaper and wrapped around his little prick.
He sighed.
This was better than paradise.
-
“I’ll tell him we’re back.”
“Nice hyung, we’ll pick a movie!”
Taehyung and Jimin’s smiles were big and bright. Namjoon, Jin and Jungkook were already off somewhere. The dinner had been great, but surprisingly quick. They’d decided on Udon, felt like it fit with the season, and it was a dish served quickly and they were already back.
He hadn’t really been able to concentrate during dinner. He’d kept thinking about Yoongi. Worrying about him, actually. It wasn’t like him to skip out on dinner in order to go to bed. At seven in the evening. Was he okay? Hoseok had this irking need to go check on him, even if it would earn him another doting for being the mother of the group.
But he’d noticed things lately. Things that worried him. He wouldn’t tell anyone, but he’d noticed that Yoongi had received strange parcels. Often discreet packages in brown carton boxes. You know, as if he was hiding something. And Hoseok did not like that. Sure, they all had their much needed and too little privacy, but keeping secrets from each other? They’d promised not to do that since the incident in 2018.
No more secrets. They were brothers. That’s what they’d all decided, what they’d all shaken hands on.
He wondered how to bring it up nicely, when he came to a stop outside of Yoongi’s bedroom door. Yoongi had his own room in this dorm, but it was small. So. Why was he inside his tiny bedroom when he had the whole dorm for himself?
There was strange whimpering noises leaking from the other side of the door. Hoseok felt the worried clench increase in his chest. He’d known something was wrong. Yoongi was sad, that’s why he had stayed at home. Yoongi hated talking about feelings, because he didn’t know how to put things into words and he felt silly, so when he was sad he just shut himself in. Not talking to anyone about it. And often and ultimately, making the thing worse.
But not today. No, now Hoseok was here and he’d listen to whatever had happened, no matter how silly and unimportant, and he’d ask Yoongi to join them watching the movie.
He put on his big trademark smile and placed his hand on the door handle. The whimpers turned into sobs and he bit his lip, never having heard Yoongi whine like that before, despise all the years they’d known each other.
With more force behind the smile he pulled down the handle and swung the door open.
“Hyung, we’re back-”
And his smile dropped that fast.
Yoongi had not been crying.
In just a second Hoseok’s shocked eyes flicked to the many – what was that? - boxes of Barbie dolls lined up in the otherwise empty bookshelf, to the baby pink blanket kicked to the floor, to Yoongi touching himself in bed while wearing a diaper and sucking on a pacifier.
Wait, hold up.
Yoongi touching himself in bed while wearing a diaper and sucking on a pacifier.
Hoseok felt his whole body kick to life at the same time Yoongi shrieked and removed his hand from his pants, no wait, removed his hand from the white diaper. Hoseok’s heart started racing and he grew sweaty and he couldn’t look away, or form any proper words.
He watched as if in slow motion as the pacifier fell from Yoongi’s lips and bounced on his lap before rolling down to the floor, and ending up just a meter from Hoseok’s feet.
There was silence.
Yoongi was panting but he didn’t say anything. He’d pulled his blanket over himself, his usual black one, not the pink one. And he was staring at Hoseok with big eyes.
Hoseok was shocked. Just shocked. Plain surprise. Heart racing. What the hell did you say after walking into your friend touching himself? In a diaper? In front of a line of innocent Barbies?
But then there was that irking feeling, something bursting to life inside of him. Seeing Yoongi like this. It made something in his stomach feel hot. Burn, almost.
Clearing his throat, Hoseok added his trademark smile.
“Hyung, we’re home. There’s food in the kitchen.”
And then he left. Because he understood now. The mysterious packages. The secret, strange look on Yoongi’s face as he made excuses to be home alone while the others went out for dinner. And… one time Taehyung had actually told him he’d seen a pacifier in Yoongi’s room, before he mysteriously stopped teasing him about it.
Had Yoongi threatened, or begged, Taehyung into silence?
Well, that was interesting.
It was with a smirk on his face that Hoseok entered the living room. So Yoongi’s into that. Whatever that is. But it seems a lot like dressing up as a baby for fun. For sexual pleasure-fun. How embarrassing.
The initial shock has disappeared, changing into something curious and bubbling. Excitement. Yeah. This was exciting.
He dropped into couch, smiling at Jimin. “Hyung said he’ll join us later. He was taking a nap.”
“Oh, okay!” Jimin poked Taehyung in the back, still deciding on what movie to see.
Hoseok had a hard time staying still. Couldn’t find a comfortable position. He kept thinking. About Yoongi as a baby. It would probably kill him if the secret came out. That’s why he’d been so secretive about it. God, Hoseok had had no idea at all.
Was this one of those kink things? A fetish? Hoseok didn’t know anything about that world, but one thing he knew, and it was that he’d never forget how breathtaking Yoongi had looked on his bed with that pacifier and with a hand down his diaper.
And he knew that later that night, he’d get off to that picture.
But no one had to know about that either.
Because his crush on Min Yoongi was his biggest secret.
And he thought he’d like Yoongi no matter what he was into.
-
Shit, shit, shit!
Yoongi sat petrified in his bed for what felt like hours. Not moving an inch. Only staring at the closed door with a heart practically racing in his chest. Thump, thump, thump it echoed in his ears.
Hoseok saw me. Hoseok saw me. Jung fucking Hoseok saw me jerk off wearing this damn ugly diaper! Lord, fuck!
Maybe he’d die now. Die from the embarrassed shock of it all. He wouldn’t mind that, actually. Would rather prefer it. Because he would never be able to look Hoseok in the eyes ever again.
With another jolt of his heart his gaze darted to his bookshelf. Oh no. Jung Hoseok saw my Barbie dolls. No! He threw the blanket away and started grabbing his dolls in a hurry, throwing, with gentle care, the many plastic boxes back under his bed where he stored (hid) them. He felt gross, but his hard-on had disappeared the moment Hoseok opened the door.
Getting caught was not his thing. At least he knew that now. Well, hell of course it wasn’t his thing! God! Who liked getting caught at it!
The more he thought about it, the more sick he felt. He kept cursing in his head. Shit, fuck no, please god, no, why!
He’d been alone. He’d planned it all very carefully. He’d even been in his tiny bedroom. Why had they come home early? Why had Hoseok walked inside? Jin would’ve been better. Yoongi already had some blackmail material about him and they would’ve been equal then. Jungkook would’ve been too traumatized to remember anything. Heck, Taehyung would probably understand, he was so weird himself.
But Hoseok?
This was not good.
Yoongi started feeling more nauseous by the second. Hoseok knew. He ripped off the diaper and threw it under his bed, too scared now to try to hide it in his trash can somehow. Hoseok knew. He threw off his pink socks and hid them with the blanket, pacifier and his nightgown. Could clean later. Hoseok knew.
It was with a hurry that he got dressed and sat down on his bed. Just how he’d started. Only that there was sticky stuff on his right hand, and a tight lump of shame and fear and anxiety in his chest.
He was dead.
Why had Hoseok just walked away? They should talk about this. Yoongi had to beg him not to tell anyone. But that also meant admitting that he enjoyed this, that he was a perverted freak, and perhaps he’d need to give the guy an explanation as well.
And heck, that conversation would be terrible no matter who it was with, but Jung Hoseok? No thank you. He’d smile or scowl or tease, never talk to him again or talk a lot more, asking questions, being interested, being disgusted.
Every single reaction would be worse than the other. Because it was Hoseok. And Hoseok always got under his skin, in ways he’d like to not think about.
It felt like the crack in the ice got bigger. The room felt smaller. He took a chance and left his room, relieved when he didn’t find Hoseok in the hallway. Why would he be there waiting for him? Yoongi locked himself in the bathroom and washes his hands and face and tried not to hyperventilate or beat himself up more in his head.
A guy was allowed to have secrets, right? No one had to know what he got off on. He didn’t ask Namjoon what he liked, even if he somehow always found out (that loser never learned how to use incognito), and he wouldn’t want to know what Jin was doing during those lonely Saturday nights.
So. Yeah. Maybe Hoseok had already forgotten it had happened. It had been hella awkward, but? Already forgotten. Probably. Yoongi was respected. Right? Hoseok would respect his privacy and boundaries and let this slip.
But something told him that Hoseok’s respect for him disappeared the moment he caught him sucking on a pacifier.
Yoongi had never ever in his life felt as embarrassed over himself.
He didn’t even understand it himself. He just saw an add for knee high socks one day and felt like buying a pair. Then he bought one in every colour and matching pyjama sets. Then the pacifiers and baby bottles followed. The Barbies and dinosaurs and plushies. It evolved into panties. Scrolling through the website and nervously adding a pair to his cart, palms sweaty at two on the morning.
And then the diapers. Hell, he was a sick freak and he knew it, but what’s he gonna do? He was just like any other human. A slave for his body’s desires. If he was tired he wanted to sleep. If he was horny he wanted to get off. And wearing that stuff made the experience that much greater and he wasn’t ashamed of himself, he was just nervous that someone would figure it out.
There was only one thing he could do.
Pretend like nothing and act like it never happened.
Yeah.
So he left the bathroom and walked into the living room with nervous steps and a face that burned red as he spotted Hoseok sitting in the couch beside Jimin, absent-mindedly scrolling through his phone as Taehyung guessed the plot of the movie.
“Hyung!” Jimin exclaimed when he saw Yoongi, glancing at him over his shoulder. “There’s food in the kitchen. Had a good nap?”
“Y-yea-”
In that moment Hoseok sent him a glance over his shoulder as well. The faintest of smirks dancing on his lips.
“Yeah hyung, did the nap feel good?”
Yoongi did not feel hungry anymore. He did not feel like sitting down in couch either. He avoided Hoseok’s gaze and looked at the speck of dirt on the floor instead. “Thanks, uhm.”
Thanks?
He just walked to the kitchen. Fuck his brain. Fuck his heart that kept jolting like he’d gotten an electric shock or something. Why was Hoseok smirking?
Yoongi was doomed.
In the kitchen he found the food in the fridge. He brought it back to his room and spent the rest of his evening in there. At night he could barely sleep at all. In the morning he lingered until the last minute before he grabbed some sort of breakfast. Hoseok was sat around the dinner table, discussing something with a half awake Namjoon.
Hoseok looked like normal, Yoongi noted. Same smile. Same careless laugh. Yoongi started to relax a bit.
Had he imagined everything?
The following week was pretty much like normal. Hoseok couldn’t have told anyone, about what he saw because everyone treated Yoongi the same and acted the same around him. Practising dance and recording their episodes went well. But. There was always a but.
Every time he was alone with Hoseok, which he avoided the most, the air changed and he started sweating.
“Something wrong?” Hoseok would ask with the sweetest, most innocent smile.
And it just felt like the calm before the storm.
Hoseok didn’t bring it up. He never. But it was there. Like a huge fucking pink elephant in the room, planted right in front of their noses. Min Yoongi likes to wear a diaper as he fucks himself in the evenings! Min Yoongi is a perverted freak! Your hyung likes Barbie dolls! Freak! Freak!
Hoseok had not forgotten, that was clear. But if he was waiting for Yoongi to bring it up, then that would never happen. He could handle pressured tense awkwardness. He didn’t care. He just wanted to know if he could calm down or not. If he should keep fearing the anticipatory storm.
He decided to relax, because the following week was normal as well. He even looked Hoseok in the eyes a few times. Teamed with him during a project. It all went fine. And Yoongi started relaxing. He could sleep again. Finally.
But then it started.
It started when he expected it the least.
The humiliation.
He should’ve known better than to trust Hoseok. Everyone knew that he was secretly a sadist on the inside. Wasn’t it so? The way he smiled after lying. The sneaky satisfied look he got after getting a good hold under someone’s throat or slapping someone hard on the ass.
Hoseok was a sadist, and Yoongi was royally fucked.
It started with small things. Everything bad did. One little thing at a time. Small steps. Before the hunt really started.
The first time it happened was when the seven of them were eating dinner together around their kitchen table. They were celebrating that Namjoon had finished another course at university, and Jin had made the whole meal. Yoongi was taking a sip from his glass when suddenly Hoseok held out a pink straw for him.
“Hyung wants a straw, right?” Hoseok asked him as he held it out for him across the table. “Don’t hyung love sucking on things?”
Yoongi almost choked on the beer and nearly smashed the glass down at the table. The chatter came to a stop around them, and his heart raced as he met Hoseok’s gaze.
Challenging eyes. Innocent but faint smirk on his lips.
Don’t hyung love sucking on things?
Hoseok had not forgotten. And that night it felt like Yoongi slowly tumbled over the edge of a cliff.
He took the straw from Hoseok’s hands, because damn it it was true. He’d forgotten to grab a straw tonight. He always preferred to drink from a straw. Because it made him feel like a child or because he had an oral fixation, he wasn’t sure. Something told him it was both.
For a few days there he thought he was safe, until they were all practising for an upcoming performance for a radio show. They were all taking their positions on stage, when the stylist noonas started gathering around them, making last minute touch ups and changes before they’d turn on the cameras and record their performance.
“Yoongi-hyung, don’t you want to wear the pink jacket?” Hoseok asked loudly beside him, just as one of the noonas had changed Jungkook’s red jacket to a pink one.
Yoongi felt his cheeks burn with humiliation. He faced the floor, opting to just ignore him. But Jung Hoseok knew better than to stop the torture he enjoyed so much.
“Noona! Can’t you put Yoongi in the jacket with a ribbon? Or a skirt? The same kind Taehyung wore for the shoot.”
The noona smiled at him and waved him off, thinking he was teasing her. Oh, she had no idea. Yoongi stood with a face burning bright red, praying that the foundation was thick enough to cover it.
Pink. Ribbon. Skirt.
It felt like his protective skin was ripped off and he was left bare. The worst part was that only Hoseok noticed. Only Hoseok knew. Everyone else didn’t even bat them an eye. But Hoseok stared at him. Anticipating his reaction. Yoongi couldn’t look him in the eyes. He was slowly dying.
The next time was a few days later. Half of them were slouching around in couch after a rough schedule, when Hoseok joined them. Yoongi quickly straightened up and pretended to check something on his phone as Hoseok sat down. Right next to him. Yoongi suddenly couldn’t stand Hoseok’s smell. Some sort of vanilla? He’d never really paid any mind to it before. But it felt like he was suffocating in the fumes. His heart was racing and he was sweating and he tried discreetly to scoot to the side.
“Which one?” Jin asked, probably having a selection of movies on some streaming website open.
“Barbie’s Dream House?”
Yoongi choked. He dropped his phone that fell to his lap, glancing up in panic with a red face. Jin and Taehyung laughed at Hoseok, and Hoseok laughed too, smiling innocently at them.
“Nice one,” Jin scoffed before picking an action movie.
Jin and Taehyung missed how Hoseok stopped smiling, and how his dangerous gaze found Yoongi’s.
The message was clear.
I remember everything.
Yoongi’s heart was racing in his chest. Was this what it felt like being one of those poor rabbits right before it got snatched by the wolf? Crushed and crunched until inevitable death?
Was this what it felt like to be prey?
Yoongi quickly averted his gaze and picked up his phone again, staring blankly at the screen. His mouth was dry. What was this feeling? A trembly feeling. He could still feel Hoseok’s eyes burn on the side of his face.
Then Hoseok moved closer. Leaned in close to his ear.
“I keep thinking about how you looked touching yourself in that diaper.”
Yoongi flinched and jerked away faster than lightning, face burning so red now it flamed and hurt. He stared at Hoseok with huge eyes, before quickly averting his gaze when they made eye contact. Hoseok’s eyes were not mocking. They were not evil. The look of them made something in Yoongi’s gut turn. In a good way?
Hoseok reminded him of a hunter that crucial second before pulling the trigger. Right before the climax. Not knowing whether you’d go hungry or not. If you’d make it. If the prey would escape right before your hands.
Yoongi gulped.
He spent the rest of the movie thinking about how Hoseok’s hot breath had felt against his ear, feeling like prey helplessly stuck in a trap. Too weak to escape. Only left to wait for its fate.