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Jimin used to have a recurring dream.
It took place in a flower field, somewhere beyond the rest of the world. Every direction she looked, all she was met with was endless colorful petals and bright blue skies, and no matter how far she walked, never did an ending appear. An infinite plain surrounded her.
At some point, though, a tree would manifest in the distance. It should've brought him relief to see something new, yet the first night he witnessed it, a crippling wave of fear and dread passed through his body. He would feel the illusion of tranquility shatter, eyes focused on the innocuous tree with an unfamiliar sense of terror.
It was a normal tree, regular, harmless. Nothing was off about it, carrying no real threat, and yet when Jimin replayed the same dream scattered nights at a time, it was that tree that left them paralyzed.
At that point, they had two options: run away or approach it. And every single dream, they would choose to run away.
After that, the dream would just… end. Jimin would wake up sometimes right after, but other times, another dream took its place, inconsistent as all of her life was. She had no clue what it meant, why that tree seemed to carry something troubling, or why there never seemed to be any real conclusion. What was she supposed to get from it?
Jimin would come to understand it one day, but it took him a long time to accept it. Too long, really, but Hoseok always insists that “there's no such thing as too long”.
Speaking of Hoseok, it's autumn this month, their favorite season. It's never more obvious than when they're staring out a window, carefully watching the leaves falling from the trees and creating piles of reds, browns, and oranges on the ground below.
It's also a masterful distraction.
“Going in, okay?” Jimin warns, hovering the needle over Hoseok's thigh.
She hears Hoseok gulp, eyes glued outside. “Y-Yeah.”
“Tell me if it hurts.”
“I know.”
This is how it always goes when it comes to taking their weekly testosterone shots. Jimin himself has no real issue poking a needle into themselves and pumping the hormones in, but Hoseok? Petrified of needles, attaching way too much trauma onto them from a young age thanks to their shitty excuse of a mother.
Jimin does everything she can to not think about Hoseok's birther when she's about to stick something pointy inside their flesh.
Initially, Hoseok had intended to just utilize oral testosterone in the form of pills taken twice a day. However, one night, laying in each other's bed, they confessed to Jimin that they wanted to heal. They wanted to fight back against their trauma, exposure therapy style. Jimin was concerned at first, but through further discussions with each other and their doctor, all parties gave the green light to let Hoseok switch over.
They have a long way to go, but they'll get there. Jimin knows they will.
The needle goes in, and Jimin feels Hoseok tense up immediately. He glances up to see their eyes squeezed shut. No signs of them wanting to run away, though. That's good. Progress is being made, and even if it wasn't, Jimin would still be proud of them for trying.
That's all either of them can do: try.
The injection takes mere seconds, finished as soon as it started. Jimin delicately pulls the needle out, placing a gentle pressure against the spot with their thumb, eyes darting back up to their lover with a reassuring smile. “Done.”
Hoseok's eyes flutter open, body relaxing as they let out a deep breath. They look down at Jimin's thumb, lifting up their own hand to caress it, smiling softly in a way they only smile when with Jimin.
“Thank you,” they muttered, fingers trailing down Jimin's hand to trace his knuckles. “Wish I could do the same for you, ya know?”
Jimin huffs. “Of course I do, but you already know that I'm okay if you don't.”
Hoseok pouts. “I want to, though.”
“I know you do.” Jimin can't help but laugh softly at their words and expression. She leans down to leave a gentle kiss on their thigh, right next to where their flower tattoos traced over their scars. “I know, love.”
Hoseok doesn't say anything after. They just bring their hand up to tangle it in Jimin's freshly-dyed light purple hair, essentially petting them like a cat. And as long as Hoseok doesn't try baiting them into somehow admitting they're into being treated like a cat (they aren't, but Hoseok also always insists), this is all Jimin can ask for in life.
🌱
Jimin recalls the night she tried facing the tree for the first time.
For as long as he was aware of his own existence and how he fits into the world around him, Jimin knew he was different. He was different in many ways, too many ways, but if he had to pick a singular one, it'd be how different he was compared to other girls.
Whenever Jimin attempted to surround themselves with the girls in their class, it felt as though they were highlighting themselves as the odd one out. Every second spent interacting with girls was a performance, one that exhausted Jimin every single day despite how energetic they used to be. Every word they said, move they did, and interpretation they made was all informed solely through their observations and lectures about how a girl is “supposed” to act, how they're “supposed” to think, and what they're “supposed” to enjoy.
So when she had learned of the label “tomboy”, she felt a moment of peace, of understanding. Okay, so girls that weren't like other girls were a thing that existed, therefore Jimin was not some weird defect with a mistake in her coding. She was just… different, but still just as much of a girl as the others were. Her expression was simply a little untraditional, that's all.
It was around that time when the dream started, but it took Jimin's first year of high school to even consider going to the tree, specifically when he came to realize that he didn't want to be a tomboy anymore.
No, he never was a tomboy. That was the issue, the issue he didn't want to think about for the longest time. He couldn't confront it. Not yet.
It's funny to look back on it knowing where Jimin is now, far beyond the labels of tomboy into something that can barely be defined.
Along the walls next to them and Hoseok's bed is a loud and proud lesbian flag hanging from the ceiling. It's meant for the two of them, sharing the same label regarding sexuality, or at least the closest thing to it. They don't need the labels, but they're nice to have regardless. A somewhat secure thing in an ever changing world.
Now, gender is an entirely different conversation for the two of them.
“Jimin!” Hoseok calls from the living room. “Let's compare dicks again!”
Ah, of course.
Jimin is laying on their bed, butt ass naked with her evil trimmed boyvagina out for the world. Listen, there are few things in life that grant the same feeling as remaining nude around your home on a weekend the way nature expected. It's like a reward, really. Plus, Hoseok does it too, so… take that into consideration, mainstream society.
“Okay!” Jimin responds with a laugh.
Right, so typically, Hoseok likes to measure and compare the sizes of their tdicks. Clitdicks? Dlits? Clicks? Whatever, anyways, Hoseok has the constant desire to turn every little thing they do into some kind of competition. Jimin isn't sure what it is with non-binary lesbians on testosterone and their immense desire to be the winner of everything, but maybe it's just a Hoseok thing.
Jimin sits upright, legs crossed as his naked partner waltzes into the room. He pretends to be mildly annoyed. “Ya know, one pump of T isn't going to add an inch.”
“Whatever,” Hoseok answers with a shrug, hopping onto the bed and landing on their knees. “Now come here.”
They've done this enough times to know what to do. So, with a dramatic sigh, Jimin turns their body and shifts onto their knees as well, positioned directly in front of Hoseok.
She takes a moment to admire her lover's physical form, tan skin littered with hair, freckles, acne scars, other kinds of scars not meant to be acknowledged, and stretch marks. While Jimin's own chest is barely endowed, flat as a cutting board, Hoseok got the somewhat unlucky end of the stick with breasts that aren't massive, but big enough to sag. Fortunately, Hoseok isn't all that dysphoric about their chest, and admittedly, it makes Jimin wonder what her excuse is for during her worst dysphoria days where she's afraid to even look down at herself.
Back to Hoseok, though, Jimin's eyes wander to their numerous tattoos, thighs and arms inked with different designs and colors. Some of them were just for fun, some held an actual genuine meanings, and then there's the tiny one on their right arm that was a medieval portrait of a cat—that Hoseok saw when they were both high off their asses—and they thought it was so funny that they managed to convince their tattoo artist friend Yoongi—who was completely sober but thought it'd be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity—to ink it onto them. Easily one of the top five greatest days of Jimin's life. Not so much Hoseok, but Jimin was quick to help them get rid of their regrets.
Hoseok's body was full of imperfections, mistakes, and regrets, all weaved together into their flesh, and Jimin could never imagine it any other way. He worships every single part of them, including the parts Hoseok is too afraid to expose. Those are the most precious.
Thankfully, Jimin's favorite part of Hoseok is one that they are more than happy to show, evident in how eagerly they spread their thighs and knees apart.
How did that saying go? They/them pussy is dangerous? Yeah, very much so.
Between the dusted pink folds of their labia, a soft not-so-little hood and clitoris peeks out. Jimin has seen it a million times and yet the sight still punches them in the gut. Hoseok never even realizes it. They just casually sit there, cunt facing the world like it's a regular Saturday—which it might as well be at this point.
Jimin doesn't fixate too much on it, though, not when Hoseok's eyes are staring down at her still-closed legs, patiently waiting for her to follow suit. After all, you can't exactly compare dick sizes when one of them isn't even visible. That defeats the whole point.
So, with a gulp, Jimin's legs come apart. He contemplates on whether he should lean back on his hands to give Hoseok a better view or curl his body and crane his neck down to give himself a better view. He doesn't want Hoseok making false claims and measurements, is all. This is a fair, just, and democratic contest based on factual and sufficient evidence.
Instead of actually making a decision, however, Jimin gives up and decides to stay in the same exact position as before, too preoccupied with salivating at Hoseok's dick. That's the funny thing about testosterone: shit can make you really fucking horny.
“Hm,” Hoseok hums, gaze burning onto Jimin's own dick. They look down at theirs, then back at Jimin's, and back at theirs again. This repeats until they nod, as if satisfied with their thoughts. “Pretty close tie, it seems.”
Jimin deadpans. “You said that last week.”
“And?”
“What's the point if the conclusion is the same?”
That's when Hoseok looks Jimin up and down until a slight smirk creeps onto their face. “Aw, but you love the conclusion, don't you?”
And there it is, the only reason Jimin bothers to entertain this random scenario that only the two of them could experience (besides loving Hoseok so much that she'd do literally anything for them, of course).
“Do I?” Jimin plays dumb, raising an eyebrow to really sell it.
Hoseok hums into a giggle. Their eyes dart down for a second, biting their lip as they meet Jimin's eyes again. “You're twitching.”
Right. Jimin's pussy has already started to pulse and gush when they've literally done nothing even remotely arousing. Anyone else would've been drier than the Atacama Desert if their partner insisted on a dick measuring competition on a Saturday afternoon. But of course, because he's Jimin and they're Hoseok, he's practically dripping.
They don't respond back to Hoseok's teasing, mainly because their breathing is starting to grow unsteady, more labored with every passing second of Hoseok observing their naked form, tracing lines and curves that they've already memorized. Jimin is so damn close to just pouncing onto them like a bitch in heat.
“You know,” Hoseok starts talking again, half-lidded eyes devouring Jimin whole, “now that I think about it… I'm not so sure about the size results. Maybe we should… get them a little closer to each ot-”
Jimin knows the routine, already pushing herself forwards before Hoseok can finish their sentence.
🌿
By some miracle one night, Jimin could finally approach the tree in his dream properly.
It was quite intimidating up close, not because of its size but because of its… aura. It carried a sensation that, for whatever reason, Jimin couldn't stand for the longest time. With every step closer, their fear grew. They could almost swear that there was some kind of force trying to push them back, get them to turn around and run like all the times before.
Despite it all, she persevered, trekking through the flowers and stronger winds until she was close enough to rest her palm on the trunk. Rough. The bark poked at her trembling hand, a sensation that screamed at her to pull away. No, to look away. To return to the utopia surrounding her.
However, the infinite colors from the ground to the sky no longer held the comfort they once did, and when Jimin turned to glance at them, something twisted in his gut.
Was it safer in the flowers and under the sky? Absolutely. That's why they stayed for so long. That's all they knew since they first started having this dream. It was peaceful, calm, and familiar.
But the tree was there for a reason. It didn't mean to invade Jimin's peace. It didn't mean to scare her away. It certainly didn't mean to become her biggest nightmare. All the tree was trying to do was… exist, maybe alongside everything already present in her life, and yet it seemed so impossible in the moment.
How could a tree fit into a flower field with no other trees in sight? It sticks out too much, and anyone passing by would've been able to see that. Everyone would've seen the tree for what it was, question what it was doing in the middle of the flowers, maybe even show disgust and annoyance for the space it took up, destroying the fantasy of blossoms for all to witness.
But that's what the world surrounding Jimin and the tree was: fantasy. An impossible dream. Every field, no matter how massive, was bound to grow a tree or two. Even if one couldn't see it with a naked eye, the tree was still there, undeniably so.
What Jimin was, what Jimin is, will always be here, and frankly, the moment he let himself touch the tree, he found himself unwilling to let go.
So they didn't. They never let go. And thank the heavens they never did because not only would they have missed out on Hoseok, but also their mind-shattering pussy eating skills.
Jimin lies on her back, knees folded up to her chest, utterly helpless as Hoseok laps their tongue up her soaked cunt, flicking it against her dick before alternating to wrapping their lips around it and sucking it while bobbing their head at the same time. A plethora of satisfied moans vibrate against her, the filthy wet sounds echoing throughout the entire room.
“Oh my God!” Jimin chokes out, fist clenching Hoseok's hair desperately. “F-Fuck! Ah- fuck yeah! Eat this fucking boypussy, baby!”
And eat this boypussy Hoseok does. They slobber up his juices like a dehydrated dog, to the point where Jimin can't even differentiate between his wetness and Hoseok's spit anymore. It's not like he's even trying to, though. He's too busy fighting for his life to not pass out from how good his cunt is being devoured.
That's when Hoseok finally enacts the final phase, giving Jimin absolutely zero warning before they felt two of their partner's fingers thrust themselves inside, the wetness making their entrance utterly seamless.
Jimin can only gasp as Hoseok pumps their fingers right against her g-spot, tongue wiggling against her swollen dick. All the while, their eyes remain glued to Jimin's, looks of both determination and shameless desire swimming in their gaze. She swears she's going to accidentally rip off a chunk of their hair from how hard she's pulling on it. Her knees tremble as her body quickly tenses up, clenching around Hoseok's fingers.
“Gonna come!” Jimin can barely choke out the words before his body locks up and a guttural cry is punched out of him.
Hoseok pulls their fingers out, letting the beginning of Jimin's squirt gush out. They groan at the sight before immediately shoving their fingers back inside and forcing more and more to spurt out like a waterfall. They don't even make an attempt to swallow a single drop like they normally would, seemingly preferring to watch Jimin's cum make a mess of their precious bed.
“That's it,” Hoseok praises through gritted teeth, hand vigorously rubbing Jimin's cunt as more and more squirt is emptied. “Good fucking boy, Jimin.”
Jimin has been laying there in breathless silence, only the tiniest gasps making it past her mouth, stuck in a permanent ‘O’ shape, eyes seeing God from the back of her skull. She doesn't know how Hoseok does it, how they manage to make her squirt the equivalent of Niagara Falls so flawlessly, leaving her knees closing and her entire body trembling as her loud groans finally catch up in response.
Eventually, Hoseok's torture slows, hand leisurely rubbing his dick to ease him through the orgasm properly. They occasionally rub their fingers down and up his soaked folds, the squelch embarrassingly audible even past the ringing of Jimin's ears. It's hard for him to feel ashamed, though, especially when it's essentially the biggest proof that he just had the climax of a lifetime. And on a mere Saturday afternoon. People would've killed for an orgasm that was barely close to Jimin's.
In the midst of their body attempting to function again, Hoseok leans over and down to gently connect their lips, hand sliding up from Jimin's dick to their stomach, slippery from sweat. They both remain still for a moment, grounding themselves with each other's affection. Jimin's heart flutters, unintentionally smiling into the kiss, or at least as much as one can smile while your lips are attached to another's.
Man, sex with Hoseok rules.
They part their kiss after some time, hazy eyes meeting as they catch their breaths.
“Fuck,” Jimin pants, “you're crazy.”
Hoseok grins. “I did good then, huh?”
“Good?” Jimin is utterly dumbfounded. “I just had a spiritual awakening. I think that fucking squirt cleansed out all of my sins.”
Hoseok laughs, hot breath hitting Jimin's face. “You're so cute when you come, ya know? My little fountain.”
“Ew,” Jimin replies, scrunching her face at the nickname. “First part was fine on its own, babe. I'm more than my cum.”
“I know you are.” Hoseok places a small kiss on his nose. “Still makes you cute. And my fountain.”
“Do not call me a fountain.”
“Aw, why not?”
“Sorry, but I don't find being called a fountain all that attractive. I find nothing arousing about them.”
“Who says it's meant to be arousing?” Hoseok acts like they just came up with the smartest comeback in the world.
Jimin scoffs at their smirk, knowing just the way to wipe it clean off. “I dunno, maybe we can debate this after I take care of you, sunshine.”
🍀
Jimin likes to think that he's lucky for a lot of things. For one, he's lucky to still even be alive. He's lucky to have found himself in spite of the forces trying to keep the truth away from him for so long. And of course, he's especially lucky to have a person like Hoseok in his life. He's never taken that miracle for granted.
Those are long-term things, though, and Jimin also likes to hold onto the smaller and short-term shots of luck in their life, such as the luck of having approximately zero immediate next-door neighbors on either side of their apartment. They've both been moved out of and it's only a matter of time until they get occupied by new owners, but for now, Jimin and Hoseok relish in their temporary freedom to fuck just a little bit louder without the fear of noise complaints.
It's fun getting eaten out by Hoseok, very fun, but you know what's more fun for Jimin? Being able to smack Hoseok around while giving them the strap of a lifetime.
Jimin has them on all fours, doggy style, face down and ass up, whatever you wanna call it. A red harness is wrapped around her hips, carrying a matching red dildo in the front where her crotch is (because where the fuck else would it be?). Her hands are gripped onto their waist, purposefully squeezing and digging into the skin, scratching it as she pounds into Hoseok's soaked and creamy cunt. The slap of her hips against their ass echoes in the room, alongside the slamming of the headboard against the wall, the squelching of Hoseok's pussy, and Hoseok's unabashed moans hardly suppressed by the pillow just below their face.
“That's good, right?” Jimin taunts through gritted teeth, followed by an extra sharp thrust to punctuate it. “You love having my cock in your hole, don't you? Such a little bitch for me, hm?”
“Yes!” Hoseok can barely sob the words out, fists clenching the sheets until their knuckles turn white. “I do! I love your cock, baby! I love being your bitch!”
Jimin lifts up a hand and brings it down harshly against their ass, a pained moan erupting from Hoseok. “Look at you, already getting tight for me.” Another slap. “Such a good little slut.” And another slap, followed by a hand reaching up to grip and pull at Hoseok's hair. “Don't hide. Pathetic sluts let everyone know they're sluts, right?”
Hoseok's response is incomprehensible, just as Jimin had hoped. Satisfied, he pulls out of them abruptly, taking a second to watch Hoseok's initial reaction, entire body trembling with a desperate sob as they involuntarily move their hips back against nothing, cunt fluttering and clenching around nothing.
“Jimin!” Hoseok's voice cracks, something they always get embarrassed over except when Jimin fucks their brains out. “Plea-!”
Jimin doesn't let Hoseok finish their begging, grabbing their waist and flipping them onto their back and thrusting back inside before they could even react. They fold Hoseok's legs up, bracing their hands where their knees bend before immediately setting a brutal pace, much to the absolute delight of Hoseok.
Speaking of Hoseok, they're always so beautiful like this, face red and tear-stained, eyes struggling to stay open and mouth unable to close. It's a side of them that only Jimin has the privilege of viewing, of causing. No one else deserves to have this gorgeous sight beneath them, molded perfectly by their bare hands alone. If Jimin could, she'd take a picture of it and frame it on a wall for only the two of them to admire, a work of art worth more than anything in the most prestigious museums and collections.
Jimin leans over Hoseok's body, hovering inches from their face. “You close, baby? You gonna come for me, love?”
Hoseok whines. “Yeah! Mmh- don't stop! Don't stop! Please!”
“I could never stop when you beg like that,” Jimin whispers and partially grunts, pressing his forehead against Hoseok's. He trails a hand down to their dick, rubbing it in rapid circles timed with his thrusts, adjusting his hips to get just the right angle for-
Hoseok screams in a matter of seconds, body shuddering as their orgasm crashes through them. Jimin doesn't look away for a second, taking in every detail of Hoseok, hips slowing down to gently ease them through their climax.
“Did so well,” Jimin coos, leaning down to leave kisses across Hoseok's face. “My sunshine. My love. My darling. My flower.”
They feel Hoseok scrunch their face, mumbling something Jimin can't make out. Definitely a dramatic complaint. Jimin isn't the only one that likes to deny enjoying something.
Moments pass. Overwhelming pleasure calms down, replaced with a soothing peace enveloping the two. Jimin lazily slides her strap off, tossing it somewhere to the side, flopping down right on top of Hoseok.
“Ouch!” Hoseok exclaims with a laugh. “You're crushing my tits!”
Jimin laughs as well. “You'll live.”
They still have the rest of the day ahead of them. Jimin believes they've slowly started running short on groceries, so a visit to the grocery store would probably be necessary. Some dishes will have to be washed, too. When was the last time they vacuumed? Is it Hoseok's turn to do that? Or is it their turn for the dishes? How is their rent looking, anyways? Shit, they're going to have to wash the sheets now, too. Hell, they need to wash themselves. Jimin is already starting to feel the cramps in his thighs from the exertion. Topping is a workout, unless your bottom is doing the work, which he's starting to wish he asked earlier. It's not his fault that Hoseok looked at him with those cute little eyes of theirs and-
“Stop thinking so loud, babe,” Hoseok yawns, wrapping their arms around Jimin's waist, turning them both to the side and burying their face into the sweaty crook of their neck. “Wanna sleep.”
And how can Jimin ever say no to them?
After all, she no longer has to fear sleep, fear that dream of the tree in the flowers field, for the rare times it makes a return, Jimin can feel at ease knowing that Hoseok will be waiting on the swing tied to its branch, confident that Jimin will return back every single time to give them the push they need.
🌳