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anotherbtsffwriter · 7 days ago

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foreign | jimin x reader

→ summary: y/n thought she had prepared for everything—new culture, new language, and a dream scholarship that would change her life. but she hadn’t counted on him—jimin park, the bad boy of seoul university, whose sharp words and colder gaze pierced deeper than she ever imagined.

→ genre: 50% angst, 50% fluff

→ warnings: cursing, kissing (no smut)

→ wordcount: 13.4k

Y/N looked over the crowded terminal, her heart racing as the final boarding call for her flight to Seoul echoed through the airport. "This is it," she murmured to herself, her eyes scanning the sea of unfamiliar faces. She clutched her backpack tightly, feeling the weight of her future pressing against her shoulders. A full-ride scholarship to study neuroscience at a prestigious university in South Korea – it was an opportunity she had only dreamed of.

Stepping into the bustling college campus for the first time, Y/N felt a mix of excitement and dread. The buildings were sleek and modern, a stark contrast to the comforting, worn-out brick walls of her high school back in New Jersey. She had studied Korean culture and language tirelessly for months, but nothing could have prepared her for the wave of new sights, sounds, and smells that washed over her. The air was crisp and filled with the scent of kimchi and street food, a sharp contrast to the fast-food fumes she was accustomed to.

Her first week was a blur of orientation sessions and awkward introductions. She tried to blend in with her classmates, who all seemed to glide through the social scene with an ease she could only envy. They chattered in their native tongue, their laughter musical and untouchable. But amidst the throngs of confident students, she remained a wallflower, her shyness and cultural inexperience a barricade she hadn't anticipated.

Then, the fateful collision occurred. Y/N was hurrying to her dorm, her nose buried in a map, when she plowed into a solid wall of muscle and attitude. Her books scattered across the tiles, and she looked up to find herself face to face with Jimin Park, the notorious bad boy of the school. His jet-black hair fell into his piercing eyes, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. She recognized him immediately from the school's promotional videos and the whispers that trailed him like shadows.

"Go back to where you came from," he drawled in a mix of English and Korean, his accent thick and unapologetic.

Y/N's cheeks burned with embarrassment as she scrambled to gather her books. She could feel his eyes on her, watching her every move with a twisted amusement. His two friends, Taehyung and Jungkook, stood nearby, snickering under their breath. They were the epitome of popularity, with their designer clothes and perfectly styled hair, and she was the epitome of an easy target.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice barely audible above the din of the hallway. "I didn't see you."

Jimin's smirk grew wider as he took a step closer, his towering presence making her shrink back. "You're the new foreign exchange student, right?" His English was flawless, but his tone was anything but welcoming.

Y/N nodded, her eyes fixed on the ground as she continued to pick up her scattered papers. She could feel the eyes of his friends on her, their laughter growing louder as she fumbled with her books.

"What's your name?" Jimin asked, his tone dripping with condescension."Y/N," she murmured, her voice trembling slightly.

Jimin said, "When I heard an American was coming, I thought they meant a sexy foreign girl I could fuck with. Life sucks, man. I got the opposite."

Taehyung and Jungkook burst into laughter, and the sound was like nails on a chalkboard to Y/N's ears. She felt the sting of his words deep in her chest, but she refused to let them see her pain. Instead, she straightened up, her eyes meeting his with a newfound resolve.

"I'm here to study, not to be your entertainment." She said it firmly, her voice stronger than she felt.

Jimin was clearly angry now, "I don't wanna see your ugly face ever again, got it?" he sneered, and Y/N nodded, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. As she turned to leave, Jungkook reached out and tugged at a loose strand of her hair. "Looks like a bird's nest," he chuckled, and the trio continued their taunts as she rushed away, her eyes blurred with unshed tears.

The rest of the semester was a nightmare of whispers and sneers. Every hallway she walked down, every corner she turned, she could feel their eyes on her, waiting for another opportunity to pounce. They would often trip her or knock her books out of her hands, leaving her to pick them up while they walked away laughing. Y/N tried to ignore them, but their cruel jibes about her skin and hair cut deep, bringing back painful memories of childhood bullying.

One rainy afternoon, Y/N found refuge in the university's library, her sanctuary amidst the storm. She sat at a desk, her nose buried in a textbook, when she heard the unmistakable sound of their footsteps approaching. Her heart sank, and she wished she could just disappear into the stacks of books surrounding her.

"Look what the cat dragged in," Jimin announced, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he and his entourage approached her table.

Y/N gritted her teeth and kept her focus on the text in front of her, hoping they would just leave her alone. But she knew that wasn't going to happen. Not with them.

"Hey, earth to bitch," Jimin's voice was too close for comfort, and she felt a cold shiver run down her spine.

Slowly, she lifted her eyes from the book, her gaze meeting his. "What do you want?" she asked, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice.

Jimin leaned against the table, his arms folded over his chest. "Just checking that you're miserable before I leave."

Y/N rolled her eyes, "I am, thank you for your concern."

Jungkook smirked, "Why don't you just go? You're clearly not welcome here."

Y/N felt her temper flare, but she bit her tongue, knowing that any reaction would only fuel their amusement. Instead, she slammed her book shut and gathered her things, deciding to leave the library before she lost her composure.

As she turned to go, her bag knocked over a pile of neatly stacked papers on the edge of the table. Before she could apologize, Jimin had grabbed her arm, his grip tight and painful. "Look what you did," he said, his voice low and menacing. "You're so clumsy."

Y/N felt a surge of anger, but she knew better than to argue. She bent down to pick up the papers, her heart racing as the rain outside mirrored her inner turmoil. The pages were wet and sticky from the moisture in the air, and she felt the weight of their stares as she gathered them up. As she straightened, she accidentally brushed against Jimin's leg, and his eyes flashed with something that looked almost like disgust.

"Don't touch me," he hissed, pushing her away.

Y/N stumbled back, her heart racing as she clutched the soggy papers to her chest. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice thick with unshed tears. She had never felt so small and insignificant.

"You're always sorry," Taehyung sneered, stepping closer. "But you know what? You're just asking for it, walking around here like you own the place."

Y/N took a deep breath, fighting the urge to scream at them. Instead, she held up the wet papers calmly. "I'm just trying to clean up what I knocked over."

Jimin's grip on her arm tightened. "You think being sorry makes it okay?" He leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. "You're the one who doesn't belong here, not us."

Y/N's eyes watered as she nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll leave you alone." She turned to go, but Jimin's hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her back.

"Not so fast, Y/N," he said with a cruel smile, enjoying the fear in her eyes. "You're going to learn to show some respect around here."

Y/N winced as he tugged on her hair, trying to keep her balance. She could feel the sting of his grip, but she refused to give in to the tears that threatened to fall. "I've done nothing but respect everyone here," she said, her voice shaking with the effort to stay calm.

"That's not what I see," Jimin retorted, pulling her closer. "No one wants you here."

Y/N felt a spark of rebellion ignite within her. She had worked too hard, come too far, to let these bullies ruin her dream. With a sudden jerk, she pulled free from his grasp, her hair momentarily tangled in his fingers before it bounced back into place. "Let go of me," she said firmly, her voice surprisingly steady. "If you don't like me, then stop fucking annoying me."

Jimin's smirk faltered, his grip loosening slightly. Y/N took the opportunity to step back, placing the table between them. She could see the surprise in his eyes, quickly replaced by a flash of anger. "You're going to regret this," he growled, his grip tightening again.

Y/N's heart hammered in her chest, but she met his gaze with a fiery determination. "I doubt it," she replied, her voice stronger than she felt. "You're the one who's going to regret it if you don't get out of my fucking face right now, you little shit."

For a moment, Jimin looked taken aback by her sudden spurt of courage. Then, his smirk returned, but it was more predatory than amused. "You think you're tough, huh?" He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. "We'll see about that."

Y/N's heart raced as she backed away, the cold library floor tiles a stark reminder of the reality of her situation. "Just leave me alone," she said.

But Jimin wasn't in the mood to listen. He lunged across the table, his hand reaching for her, his eyes glinting with malice. In a flash, Y/N felt the panic rise within her, and she did the only thing she could think of – she shoved the heavy textbook into his face, sending him stumbling backward. The room fell silent except for the pitter-patter of rain outside and the heavy breathing of the four of them.

Jungkook and Taehyung looked at Jimin in shock, their amusement replaced with a flicker of concern. Jimin's nose was red and possibly broken, a thin trickle of blood escaping from one nostril. He touched it gingerly, his eyes never leaving hers, his expression morphing from shock to anger. "You bitch," he spat, his voice thick with the promise of retribution.

Y/N didn't wait for a second attack. She dashed out of the library, the sound of their curses and footsteps echoing behind her. Rain pelted her face, mixing with the tears that finally fell. She had never felt more alone and scared in her life.

The next day, she found herself in the dean's office, her heart racing as she waited for her fate to be decided. The air was thick with tension as Jimin sat across from her, his nose swollen and bruised, a clear declaration of war etched into his features. He smirked as she entered, a sense of victory already in his eyes.

The dean, a stern woman with a no-nonsense attitude, peered over her glasses at the two of them. "Mr. Park has accused you of assault, Ms. Y/N," she said, her voice cold and unwavering. "Is there anything you'd like to say for yourself?"

Y/N's mind raced. How had it come to this? She had only defended herself, but the fear of losing her scholarship made her palms sweat. "It was an accident," she managed to croak out. "I was just trying to keep him away from me."

Jimin sneered, the bruises on his face a stark testament to their confrontation. "Accident?" He spat the word like it was poison. "You're just a violent foreigner who can't handle a little teasing."

Y/N felt the room closing in on her, her breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. The dean's gaze was unreadable as she studied the textbook still clutched in Y/N's trembling hand. The silence was suffocating until she finally spoke. "Ms. Y/N, it appears that you have a serious anger management issue. Your scholarship is hereby revoked, and you are no longer welcome at our institution."

The words hit Y/N like a ton of bricks, the reality of her situation sinking in. She had worked so hard, dreamed so long, and it was all slipping away because of a single, desperate act of self-defense. "But-but I didn't mean to," she stammered, the tears now flowing freely.

The dean's expression didn't waver. "I understand your situation, Ms. Y/N, but the school has a zero-tolerance policy for violence. We cannot have students attacking one another, regardless of the circumstances."

Y/N's world spun as the dean's words sank in. "Please," she begged, "I've worked so hard to be here. I'll do anything to make it right."

The dean's face remained a mask of disapproval. "Your actions have consequences, Ms. Y/N. You will need to find another institution to pursue your studies."

Y/N felt the floor drop out from under her. "But, I've done nothing but study," she protested, her voice trembling with the effort to remain calm. "They've been bullying me since the first day."

The dean's eyes narrowed, "Bullying is a serious allegation, Ms. Y/N. If you had reported these incidents earlier, we could have taken action. However, assaulting a fellow student is unacceptable."

Y/N felt the room spin around her as the finality of the situation set in. "But," she started to protest, only to be silenced by the dean's raised hand.

"Your scholarship is revoked, and you are to vacate the dormitory within the next 24 hours," the dean said, her voice firm and unyielding. "I suggest you contact the authorities and your embassy to resolve any issues regarding your stay in the country."

Y/N nodded numbly, the room spinning around her as she processed the words. Her dreams, her scholarship, her future - all gone in an instant. She stumbled out of the office, her vision blurred by tears, and collided with the very person who had ruined everything: Jimin. He leaned against the hallway wall, his nose still a mess of bruises and swelling. His smirk was back in full force, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

"Looks like you're going home now, Y/N," he jeered, his voice nasally from his injury. "Back to your little cage where you won't bother anyone."

Y/N felt the sting of his words, but she didn't let it show. She wiped her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. "I'm not going anywhere," she said, her voice surprisingly firm. "I'm going to stay and prove that I deserve to be here."

Jimin's smirk wavered, and she could see a flicker of doubt in his eyes. He hadn't expected her to fight back. He had probably thought she'd slink away with her tail between her legs, defeated and humiliated. But she wasn't that girl anymore.

Y/N took a step closer to him, her voice low and determined. "I'm not going anywhere, son of a bitch. And if you or your pathetic little friends try to bully me again, I'll make sure the whole school knows just what kind of people you really are."

Jimin's smirk disappeared, replaced by a snarl. "You think you can threaten me?" He took a step closer, his fists clenched at his sides. "You're expelled, Y/N."

Y/N squared her shoulders. "For now."

As she made her way to her dorm, the reality of her situation began to sink in. She had to find a place to live, and fast. Her savings would only last her a few months if she was frugal, so she immediately started looking for a small apartment in Seoul. After a day of searching, she found a cramped, yet affordable studio in a bustling area not too far from the university.

Y/N moved her meager belongings into her new home, feeling a strange mix of excitement and trepidation. The walls were paper-thin, and she could hear the laughter and music from the neighboring apartments. But it was a start, a new beginning in a place she hadn't planned to be.

Her first day at the community college was nerve-wracking, but she found comfort in the anonymity it offered. The students were a mix of young and old, all eager to learn, and she felt less like a target here. Her English classes were surprisingly easy, but she struggled with the Korean ones, her high school education not quite preparing her for the rapid-fire speech that filled the classrooms. But she was determined to master it, to make her way in this foreign country that had become her new home.

Y/N took a deep breath and walked into the job fair held in the college's gym. She had her resume printed in both English and Korean, her heart racing as she approached the various booths. The smell of cheap cologne and desperation filled the air, but she focused on the opportunities laid out before her. She had to find a job that would pay enough to keep her afloat without taking too much time away from her studies.

Her eyes scanned the rows of potential employers, her heart skipping a beat when she spotted a booth for a local café that was known for hiring students. She approached with cautious optimism, her English resume in hand. "Annyeonghaseyo," she greeted the café owner, a middle-aged man with a warm smile. "I'm looking for a part-time job."

The man's eyes lit up as he took her resume, flipping through it with a nod. "Ah, you speak Korean," he said, his accent thick but his smile genuine. "Very good. We can always use hardworking students. Can you start tomorrow?"

Y/N nodded, a sense of relief flooding through her. "Yes, I can."

The next day, she arrived at the café, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods greeting her as she stepped through the door. She was met with a bustle of activity as the owner, Mr. Kim, rushed around, his eyes darting between the clock and the line of customers that snaked around the counter. "Ah, Y/N-ssi," he called out, his smile welcoming. "You're here. Good. We're short-staffed today."

Y/N nodded, her stomach fluttering with nerves. She had hoped for a chance to serve customers, to practice her Korean and make friends. But when Mr. Kim handed her a mop and a bucket, she realized her job was far from glamorous. "You'll start with cleaning the bathroom and then move on to the floors," he instructed, his voice kind but firm.

The bathroom was small, but it was a battleground of smells and stains. Y/N took a deep breath and began her task, scrubbing at the toilet with a determination she had never felt before. She had always been a neat freak, but this was a whole new level of cleanliness she had to maintain. The grout was stained with what she hoped was just coffee, and the mirrors were smeared with fingerprints and god-knows-what else.

As she worked, she couldn't help but think about her new life. She had always been the smart girl, the one who studied too much and never had time for parties. Now she was in a foreign country, cleaning toilets and fighting for her place. It was a humbling experience, but she knew it was only temporary. Her dreams of becoming a neuroscientist hadn't disappeared just because she was no longer at that prestigious university.

Y/N scrubbed the last of the grime from the floor tiles and stood up, her back aching from the unfamiliar labor. She took a step back to survey her work, pride blooming in her chest. The bathroom gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights, cleaner than it had been when she first set foot inside. She took a deep breath and stepped out into the café. Her hair was a messy bun, strands escaping to stick to her sweaty forehead, and her sleeves were rolled up, revealing her toned forearms.

As she exited the bathroom, she collided with a pair of dark, piercing eyes that sent a cold shock down her spine. Jimin Park. Here, in this café. Working. Of all places. The shock on his face told her he hadn't missed the irony either. He was leaning against the cash register, his arms folded over his chest, looking as put-together as ever in a crisp, black polo with the café's logo. His bruises from their altercation in the library had almost faded, but the memory of their encounter was as fresh as if it had just happened.

"Well, well, well," he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "What the fuck are you still doing in Seoul?"

Y/N felt her cheeks burn with a mix of embarrassment and anger. She had hoped she'd never have to see him again. "I'm working, duh," she said through gritted teeth, trying to maintain some dignity.

"Working?" Jimin's smirk grew wider as he glanced around the café. "Looks like you've really made it, Y/N. From scholarship student to toilet cleaner." His words stung, but she refused to let him see her pain.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging within her. "I'd rather clean toilets than have to deal with your shit," she shot back, her voice surprisingly steady.

She turned away from him, focusing on the task at hand. The rest of the day was a blur of steaming milk and wiping down counters, serving customers with a forced smile while his words echoed in her mind. But she had survived worse, and she wasn't about to let him ruin this for her too.

As the café emptied out and the evening shift approached, Jimin couldn't help but watch Y/N from the corner of his eye. She moved with a grace that was surprising for someone in her position, her hands quick and sure as she cleaned and organized. Her sweat-dampened hair clung to her neck, and her clothes were wrinkled from the physical exertion. It was a stark contrast to the put-together image she had always presented at the university, and something about it made him feel... strange.

He found himself missing the easy target she had been, the way she would blush and stumble over her words when he teased her. But seeing her here, working so hard, something had shifted. The satisfaction he had felt when he had her expelled was now tinged with an emotion he hadn't expected – guilt. He had never really thought about the consequences of his actions before, but now, watching her struggle to keep her head above water, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had gone too far.

The days turned into weeks, and their encounters at the café grew more frequent. Despite their history, they found themselves working in a tense harmony, both driven by the need for money. Y/N ignored his taunts and focused on her job, proving to be a quick learner and an asset to Mr. Kim. Her dedication was evident, and Jimin couldn't help but begrudgingly respect her for it.

One evening, as they were closing up, it was just Y/N and Jimin left on the clean up shift. Y/N felt a sudden wave of nausea hit her like a ton of bricks. Her stomach cramped and her vision swam as she realized she had food poisoning from the dubious street food she had eaten earlier that day. She bolted for the bathroom, ignoring Jimin's jeers, and barely made it to the toilet before she started retching. Her body was on fire, her skin slick with a cold sweat as she emptied the contents of her stomach into the bowl.

Jimin, who had followed her out of curiosity, heard the sounds of her distress and paused, his smirk fading. He had seen her sick before, but this was different - she was in agony. He cautiously approached, his heart thumping in his chest, unsure of what to do. When he saw her hunched over the toilet, her body convulsing with each heave, something within him shifted. He stepped forward and gently rubbed her back, his hand moving in slow, soothing circles.

Y/N was too sick to protest or even acknowledge his presence, but she felt the warmth of his touch seep through her shirt, offering a small comfort amidst the chaos in her stomach. The coolness of the tiles against her forehead was a stark contrast to the fever that raged within her. She threw up until there was nothing left, her body shaking with the effort.

When the heaving finally subsided, she leaned against the cold porcelain, her eyes closed. She didn't know how long she stayed there, but eventually, she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. "You okay?" Jimin's voice was uncharacteristically soft, the mockery nowhere to be found.

Y/N pushed him away, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "I'm fine," she managed to murmur, her voice hoarse from the vomiting. She didn't want his pity or his help, not after all he had done.

Jimin took a step back, his eyes searching hers for any hint of the anger that had always been there before. But all he saw was pain and exhaustion. He had never seen her like this, so vulnerable and defeated. It was a stark reminder that she was just a person, not the invincible nerd he had made her out to be in his mind.

"Here," he said, holding out a bottle of water and a wet cloth. "Mr. Kim keeps these for emergencies."

Y/N took them with a nod, her trembling hand barely managing to uncap the water. She took a tentative sip, the cool liquid soothing her raw throat. "Mhmmhm," she murmured.

Jimin hovered for a moment before retreating, his gaze lingering on her. Y/N could feel his eyes on her, but she was too drained to care. She took a few more sips, the water helping to settle her stomach. As she rinsed her mouth and splashed some on her face, she felt the first stirrings of anger. How dare he act like he cared? She was just a pawn in his sick game of power and dominance.

When she emerged from the bathroom, she found Jimin wiping down the last of the tables. "Go home," he said without looking up. "I'll finish up here."

Y/N felt a flare of anger, "I'm not leaving," she protested, "And you suck at cleaning."

Jimin was tired of her bullshit. "I said I've got it," he said firmly. "And I'm good at cleaning."

Y/N glared at him, but she was in no condition to argue. She nodded and made her way to the back, collapsing into a chair. Her head was spinning, and she couldn't help but feel the weight of her situation crashing down on her. Here she was, an expelled scholar, working a minimum-wage job, and getting sick from the very food she had to eat to save money. It wasn't the life she had envisioned, but it was the one she had to live.

Jimin watched her, a strange mix of emotions swirling inside him. He had never seen anyone endure so much without breaking. It was as if she had a well of strength that seemed bottomless, and it was something he hadn't anticipated. He had always seen her as weak, an easy target, but she had proven him wrong time and time again.

As he finished up the last of the cleaning, he couldn't shake the image of Y/N's pained expression in the bathroom. He had never felt like this before, and it was disconcerting. He had always enjoyed the power he wielded over others, the fear and submission in their eyes as he pushed them around. But with Y/N, it was different. He didn't want to see her hurt, not like this. Why the fuck did he actually care?

The next day, Y/N arrived at work, looking paler than usual but determined. She avoided Jimin's gaze, focusing on her tasks. But when she stumbled, dropping a tray of dirty dishes, he was there, catching her before she could hit the floor. His hands were firm but gentle, and for a moment, she forgot to hate him.

"You okay?" he asked, his eyes genuinely concerned.

Y/N nodded, pulling away from his grasp. "Yes," she lied, not wanting him to know that she actually had an intense fever but needed the money so she still came to work.

Mr. Kim noticed the exchange and approached them, his eyes filled with worry. "Y/N, you don't look well. Maybe you should take a sick day?"

Y/N forced a smile. "I'm not sick," she said, her voice strained.

Mr. Kim's concern was palpable, but she knew she couldn't afford to miss a shift. She had bills to pay, a future to fight for, and a vendetta to settle. Jimin's eyes searched hers for the truth she was so desperately trying to hide. "You look like you could use a break," he murmured, his voice softer than she had ever heard it.

Y/N swallowed hard, the fever making her lightheaded. "I said I'm fine," she snapped, pulling away from his touch. She didn't need his pity, especially not now. She turned to the kitchen, her steps unsteady as she began to prep for the lunch rush.

Throughout the day, Jimin watched Y/N from his position behind the cash register, his eyes narrowed as she moved with a newfound fragility. The sight of her in pain had stirred something within him, something he didn't quite understand. As the hours passed, her fever grew worse, beads of sweat glistening on her forehead, but she refused to go home.

"You should rest," he said again, his voice low so Mr. Kim wouldn't hear. "You're not doing anyone any good like this."

Y/N's eyes flashed with irritation. "You don't get to tell me what to do," she spat, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jimin's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. Instead, he went back to his work, his mind racing. He had never seen Y/N so vulnerable, and it was messing with his head. He had always enjoyed pushing her buttons, watching her squirm under his gaze, but this was different. This was real.

As the day grew later, the café grew busier, and Y/N's condition worsened. Her hands shook as she tried to take orders, and she had to lean against the counter to stay upright. Jimin saw the customers eyeing her with concern, and he knew he couldn't ignore it anymore. He approached Mr. Kim, speaking rapidly in Korean.

Mr. Kim's eyes widened, and he looked over at Y/N, who was now visibly shivering. "Y/N," he called out, his tone filled with worry. "You should go home."

Y/N's eyes widened in panic. "No, I can't," she protested, her teeth chattering. "I can't miss work."

Mr. Kim's expression softened. "You're obviously sick. You need to rest."

Y/N's eyes filled with tears of frustration. "But I can't," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I need the money."

Jimin stepped forward, surprising both Y/N and Mr. Kim. "I'll cover her shift. Give her the money," he said, his tone firm. "Send her home."

Y/N's eyes met Jimin's, a mix of anger and disbelief. She didn't want his charity, but her body was failing her. With a defeated nod, she gathered her things and stumbled out the door.

The cool night air hit her like a slap in the face, and she leaned against the café's brick wall, trying to catch her breath. She could feel the fever burning through her, making the world swim around her. Just as she was about to step away, a hand grabbed her elbow, steadying her.

"I'll drive you home," Jimin said, his voice gruff.

Y/N's eyes narrowed. "But you're on duty right now."

"Mr. Kim said I could take a short break," Jimin said, his grip firm. "Where do you live?"

Y/N hesitated before rattling off her address. She was in no condition to argue. Jimin led her to a car parked outside, his eyes never leaving hers. He helped her into the passenger seat before getting behind the wheel. The car's engine roared to life, and she felt a strange mix of fear and gratitude.

During the drive, they remained silent. The tension in the car was palpable, thick like the humid air outside. Y/N's eyes closed as she leaned back against the seat, trying to ignore the waves of nausea that continued to wash over her. She could feel the heat radiating off her body, and she knew she was burning up.

When they arrived at her apartment, Jimin turned to her, his expression unreadable. "What made you think you could fucking work like this?" he said, his voice gruff.

Y/N couldn't hear him. The beeping in her head was too loud, the world too wobbly. She reached for the door handle, but her hand was a trembling mess, and she couldn't get a grip. Jimin sighed, his eyes flashing with something she didn't recognize. He opened the door for her, and she stumbled out into the night. The cool air was a slap in the face, but it didn't help the fever burning through her.

He took her arm again, leading her to her apartment. She could feel the heat coming off of him, could hear the steady thump of his heart. It was the only constant in the chaos. When they reached her door, she fumbled with the keys, dropping them once before finally getting them into the lock. He stepped in, turning on lights and taking in the tiny space with a sweeping glance.

"Bed," he said, and she nodded. The apartment was a mess, clothes strewn everywhere, textbooks and notes scattered across the bed. He helped her to it, pulling back the covers and waiting for her to crawl in. She was shivering now, her teeth chattering as the fever took hold.

Jimin hovered, unsure of what to do. He had never felt so out of place, so... helpless. "I'll get you some water," he said finally, retreating to the kitchen. He found a glass and filled it from the tap, the cold liquid sloshing over his fingers. He brought it back to her, setting it on the bedside table.

Y/N's eyes were closed, her breathing shallow. He studied her for a moment, taking in her flushed cheeks and the sheen of sweat on her forehead. He had never seen her like this, so small and fragile. It was a stark contrast to the fiery girl who had fought back against him in the library. He didn't know what to do with this newfound... concern.

With a sigh, he reached out and touched her forehead. "You're burning up," he murmured. "Do you have any medicine?"

Y/N nodded weakly, pointing to a small, cluttered desk in the corner of the room. Jimin moved with surprising gentleness, rummaging through the drawers until he found a bottle of ibuprofen. He read the label and then handed her two pills along with the water. "Take these," he instructed, his voice softer than she had ever heard it before.

Y/N complied, the bitterness of the pills doing little to mask the metallic taste in her mouth. She lay back, her eyes fluttering open to meet his. For the first time since she had known him, Jimin didn't seem like the monster she had painted him to be. He was just a boy, a confused one, but a boy nonetheless.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice weak and barely audible.

Jimin nodded, his hand hovering over her forehead before he pulled it back. "Get some rest," he said gruffly.

Y/N watched him leave, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. She didn't know why he had helped her, but she was too tired to analyze it. She swallowed the pills and took a sip of water, the cold liquid feeling like a lifeline in her parched throat. As she lay there, her mind drifted to her new life in Seoul - the bullying, the isolation, and now, this strange bond forming with the very person who had made her existence a living hell.

Back at the café, Jimin felt restless. He had never felt this way before. He had always enjoyed his role as the school's bad boy, but now, the thought of her suffering because of him was like a rock in his stomach. He moved through the motions of his work, but his mind was elsewhere. He thought about her lying in her bed, sweating and shivering. It was a stark contrast to the fiery girl who had stood up to him in the library.

He couldn't shake the image of her leaning against the toilet, so much pain in her eyes. It was as if she was fighting a battle he hadn't even known existed. And for what? For a scholarship that he had stolen from her, for a life he had made hell. As he wiped down the counters, his thoughts swirled. Why did he care? Why did he feel guilty?

After his shift ended, Jimin found himself driving back to Y/N's apartment. The night was quiet, the streets of Seoul bustling with life despite the late hour. He took the stairs two at a time, his heart racing. He didn't know what he would say, or what he wanted to do. He just knew he had to see her.

He knocked softly on the door, his knuckles brushing against the cool wood. There was no answer. He tried the handle, finding it unlocked. Slowly, he pushed the door open, his eyes scanning the dimly lit room. She was there, curled up in a fetal position, her face flushed with fever. The sight of her made his stomach twist in a way that was unfamiliar to him.

"Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely a murmur. He approached the bed, his footsteps silent on the worn-out carpet. He sat on the edge, his eyes tracing the contours of her face, the dampness of her hair sticking to her forehead. Her breathing was labored, her chest rising and falling rapidly beneath the thin fabric of her shirt. He felt a strange urge to reach out and brush the hair from her eyes, but his hand hovered in the air, unsure of the gesture.

Jimin had seen her in various states of distress before, but this was different. This wasn't the product of his cruel games; this was real, tangible pain, and it weighed on him. He had never felt responsible for her before, never considered the toll his actions could have on someone else's well-being. But as he sat there, watching her battle the fever that consumed her, he couldn't ignore the burgeoning sense of... responsibility? Compassion?

He leaned over and placed a tentative hand on her forehead, feeling the blazing heat radiating from her body. He had never felt so powerless, so out of his element. All his bravado, his tough exterior, it was all for show. In that moment, he was just a boy, scared for someone he had never allowed himself to care about.

Jimin didn't want to wake her up. She needed rest more than anything. He knew that. So, he tiptoed to the mini fridge in the kitchen corner, his eyes scanning the shelves for anything that could help. That's when he saw it - a small ice pack. He grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around the pack, creating a barrier between the cold and her delicate skin.

Moving back to the bed, he placed the makeshift compress on Y/N's forehead with the gentlest touch he could manage. He watched her closely, waiting for any signs of discomfort or agitation. But she remained still, her breathing shallow and fast. With his free hand, he began to rub circles on her back, his thumb pressing gently into the tense muscles between her shoulder blades.

Y/N's shivering began to subside under his ministrations, the ice pack providing a blessed relief from the fever that was consuming her. Her breathing evened out, and she let out a soft sigh, unconsciously leaning into his touch. Jimin felt something uncoil in his chest at the sound. It was soothing, almost... comforting. He had never felt like this before. It was as if, in her weakness, she had unwittingly stripped away the layers of his armor, revealing a part of himself he had never allowed anyone to see.

For hours, he sat there, his hand never leaving her back, his eyes never leaving her face. He watched the fever slowly recede, the tension in her body loosening with each passing minute. As the night grew darker, his mind raced with thoughts he had never allowed himself to entertain. He had always been the one in control, the one who dictated the terms of their interactions. But now, as he cared for her in silence, he felt... human.

At dawn, Y/N's eyes fluttered open, and she blinked up at him, confusion swirling in her gaze. "What are you doing here?" she croaked, her voice raw from dehydration.

Jimin leaned back, his hand falling away from her back. "I... I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he said, his voice gruff. He didn't know what else to say. He had never felt the need to explain himself to anyone, but with her, it was different.

Y/N looked at him, her eyes still glassy with fever. "Thank you," she murmured, the words seemingly pulled from the depths of her exhausted body.

Jimin's heart stuttered in his chest, the sincerity in her voice catching him off guard. He had never received anything but anger and defiance from her. "It's...no big deal," he said, trying to play it cool.

Y/N pushed herself up onto her elbows, wincing at the pain that shot through her body. "I'm fine now, so you can leave."

Jimin studied her, his eyes searching for any signs of deceit in her words. "You don't look fine," he said bluntly. "Stop lying."

Y/N sighed, her body aching with every movement. "Whatever," she mumbled, collapsing back onto the bed.

Jimin's expression softened, his hand reaching for the ice pack. "Let me get you some more water," he said, standing up.

Y/N nodded, her eyes drifting shut again. As he moved to the kitchen, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of something she didn't quite understand. It was almost as if he... cared. But that was ridiculous. He was Jimin Park, the school's resident bully. He didn't care about anyone but himself. She had never been take care of before, not like this. It was a strange, disconcerting feeling.

Jimin returned with a fresh glass of water. He helped her sit up, holding the glass to her lips. "Drink," he urged, his voice softer than she had ever heard it.

Y/N took a tentative sip, the cold liquid soothing her parched throat. She couldn't believe he was still here, taking care of her. "Thank you," she said, her voice hoarse.

Jimin nodded, his gaze never leaving her face. "You need to to eat something. You can't fight this on an empty stomach."

Y/N's stomach growled, "There's some apples in the kitchen."

Jimin's brow furrowed. "That's not enough. I'll go get you something."

Y/N didn't protest, too weak to argue. She watched him leave, the door clicking shut behind him. The silence was eerie after the chaos of the fever, but she found comfort in the quiet. She knew she should be wary of Jimin, should be hating him for all he had done, but she couldn't summon the strength. Instead, she lay there, contemplating the unexpected turn of events.

When Jimin returned, he carried a steaming bowl of juk, a traditional Korean rice porridge, along with a bottle of ginseng tea. The scent filled the room, and Y/N's stomach rumbled in anticipation. He set the food on the bedside table and helped her sit up, propping pillows behind her. His hands were warm and surprisingly gentle as he held the spoon to her mouth.

Y/N took a tentative bite, the salty warmth of the porridge spreading through her mouth and down her throat. It was the first real food she had had in days, and it tasted heavenly. She ate slowly, savoring each spoonful, as Jimin continued to feed her with quiet attentiveness. His eyes never left her face, watching for any sign of distress or refusal.

But as she started to regain some of her strength, a spark of defiance flared within her. She didn't want to be coddled by the very person who had made her life a living hell. With a sudden burst of energy, she snatched the spoon from his hand, her grip surprisingly firm. "I can do it," she said, her voice still weak but filled with determination.

Jimin's eyes widened, and he took a step back, allowing her the space she needed. He watched as she brought the spoon to her lips, her hand shaking slightly. The porridge felt like liquid gold in her mouth, replenishing her with each spoonful. Despite her fever, she managed to feed herself, her pride refusing to let Jimin take over.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked between bites, her eyes never leaving his. "Don't you have to go ruin people's lives?"

Jimin looked down at his hands, clenched into fists at his sides. "Yeah, I better go fucking do that."

Y/N felt a stab of something she didn't want to identify as disappointment. "Fine. Just... leave."

Jimin stared at her for a long moment, his jaw tight. Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and walked out, slamming the door shut behind him. Y/N listened to the sound of his retreating footsteps with a mix of relief and regret. She didn't want to admit it, but his presence had been strangely comforting.

The next day, Jimin found himself in the dean's office, his heart racing. He had never stepped foot in this room after that day with Y/N. The dean looked up at him, her expression a mix of surprise and skepticism. "What do you want, Park?"

Jimin swallowed hard. "A few months ago, an exchange student on scholarship named Y/N was expelled because I claimed she hit me."

The dean's eyebrows shot up. "And?"

Jimin took a deep breath, his mind racing. "I... I didn't tell the complete truth," he admitted, the words sticking in his throat. "I was the one who started it."

The dean leaned back in his chair, studying him with narrowed eyes. "Continue," she said, her tone icy.

Jimin clenched his fists. "It was just a joke that went too far. I didn't mean for her to get kicked out. I would be grateful if you could forgive me and give her the scholarship back."

The dean leaned forward, her expression unyielding. "Your apology is appreciated, but the situation is more complicated than that. Miss Y/N has already been expelled."

Jimin's stomach dropped. "But she didn't do anything wrong," he insisted, his voice tight with desperation. "It was all me. I'll take the punishment. Just let her back in."

The dean steepled his fingers, his gaze piercing. "Mr. Park, your history of disciplinary issues is extensive. While I understand that you may feel guilty for your past actions, this is a serious matter. We cannot simply reverse the consequences of your behavior."

Jimin's jaw clenched. "Ok, what about this," he said. "You tell her that she's readmitted on scholarship. But since you're not willing to return that to her, I will...I will pay for her."

The dean raised an eyebrow, "You?"

"Yeah," Jimin said firmly, "I'll cover her tuition. Whatever it takes."

The dean's expression shifted from skepticism to consideration. "That is a generous offer, Mr. Park, and I think I could make that work."

Jimin felt a weight lift off his shoulders. "Thank you," he said, his voice a little less strained. "Please, tell her its a scholarship. She won't come back if she knows I'm paying for it."

The dean nodded. "I will handle it discreetly," she assured Jimin.

Y/N received the news later that day, her heart racing as she read the email from the university. She had been accepted back into the neuroscience program with full scholarship. She couldn't believe it. Tears of relief and joy filled her eyes.

That night, Jimin found himself standing in front of Y/N's apartment again. He had come to check on her, to make sure she was okay. He didn't know why he cared so much, but he couldn't shake the feeling. His hand hovered over the doorbell, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never been so nervous to see someone.

When she opened the door, she looked better, the color returning to her cheeks, but there was still a hint of weariness in her eyes. "What do you need?" she said, her voice a little stronger than the night before.

Jimin's hand hovered in the space between them, the bag of medicine and snacks he had brought clutched in his fist. "Take this."

Y/N looked from his hand to his face, a mix of confusion and suspicion swirling in her eyes. She took the bag, her fingers brushing against his, and he felt a spark of something unfamiliar pass between them. "What's this?"

"It's just some things to help with the fever," Jimin said, his voice gruff. "It's from Mr. Kim," he lied.

Y/N took it since she thought it was from Mr. Kim. "I'm returning to university tomorrow. Turns out your little fucked up plan to kick me out didn't work for long."

Jimin's heart skipped a beat at the mention of her readmission. "Ah," he said, pretending not to know. "That's a fucking shame."

Y/N shut the door firmly behind her, not giving a fuck. She felt a strange mix of anger and... something else. Something she didn't want to acknowledge. She took the bag into the kitchen, her eyes scanning the contents. It was filled with her favorite snacks and a bottle of herbal tea that was known to help with fevers. How did Mr. Kim know her favorites?

The next day, she walked back into the university halls with a newfound sense of determination. She would not let Jimin or anyone else ruin her dreams.

After college, Y/N went to the cafe for her shift. As she pushed open the door, the familiar scent of coffee and pastries hit her, bringing a sense of comfort. She noticed that Jimin was already there, his eyes bloodshot, his usual swagger replaced with a slumped posture. He looked exhausted.

Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him, not because of his bullying past, but because of recent events. The way he had taken care of her, his unexpected kindness, played on repeat in her mind. She didn't know how to process it. Was it genuine or just a ploy to manipulate her?

"Look who decided to grace us with her presence," Jimin drawled as she approached the counter, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Y/N rolled her eyes, fighting a smile. "Yeah, I'm thrilled to be here," she retorted, setting her bag down with a thud.

"Oh, I'm just devastated," Jimin shot back, not even looking up from the cash register.

Y/N tried to ignore the way his words stung. She grabbed an apron and tied it around her waist, steeling herself for another long day at the café.

From behind the counter, Jimin watched Y/N, his gaze lingering longer than it should. He had been working extra shifts, his hands raw from the constant washing of dishes and the endless stream of customers, all to pay for her tuition without her knowing. It was a small price to pay for the guilt that had been gnawing at him since that day in the library.

He had seen the way she struggled, the way she pushed herself to the brink of exhaustion just to keep up with the bills and her classes. It reminded him of himself, because he too always struggled with money. But he had never felt the urge to help anyone like this before, especially not someone he had once tormented.

Jimin's hands moved almost on autopilot as he served coffee after coffee, his eyes tracking Y/N as she juggled her own shifts with her schoolwork. The way she'd smile at every customer, the way she'd laugh at their terrible jokes, it was all so... endearing. Why did he fucking think about her so much?

He had always seen her as just a target, someone to push around to assert his dominance. But now, it was like he saw her. Really saw her. The way she bit her lip when she was stressed, the way she'd tug at her ponytail when she was lost in thought. He didn't even know her favorite color or what she liked to do on weekends. And yet, he found himself wanting to know everything about her.

Y/N noticed the change in Jimin's behavior, the dark circles under his eyes, the way he would nod off in class. At first, she thought it was just part of his bad boy persona, but as the days turned into weeks, she couldn't ignore the toll it was taking on him. He was still a dick, sure, but there was something else there. Something... vulnerable.

One evening, after her shift at the café, she found Jimin slumped over a textbook at the local study café, his head nodding to the rhythm of his snores. His notes were scattered across the table, scribbled in his usual messy handwriting, and his phone was blinking with unanswered messages. She watched him for a moment, torn between the urge to wake him and leave him be.

Y/N approached the table and cleared her throat. Jimin's eyes snapped open, and he jolted upright, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "What the fuck are you doing here?" he grumbled, trying to hide his exhaustion.

"Couldn't help but notice you look awful," she said.

Jimin rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the fog. "Gee, thanks," he mumbled.

Y/N slid into the chair opposite him, her expression concerned. "What's going on with you? You're always tired, and you're working like a maniac."

Jimin's gaze darted around the room before landing back on her. "It's nothing," he said, his voice gruff. "Just personal shit."

Mr. Kim, the café's owner, ambled over to their table, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Jimin," he said, his eyes twinkling. "You still on for your 12am to 6am shift tonight?"

Y/N's head snapped up at the mention of his schedule, her eyes widening. "What? You work that late?"

Mr. Kim smiled, his eyes shifting between them. "Yes, Miss Y/N. Jimin is quite the hard worker. He's been working night shifts for the past 2 months everyday."

Y/N's jaw dropped. "What? Why?"

Jimin shrugged, his eyes avoiding hers. "Extra cash," he muttered, hoping she'd let it go.

But Y/N wasn't so easily deterred. "Don't fucking lie," she said harshly. "What's going on?"

Mr. Kim disappeared back to the kitchen. Jimin sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. "Look," he began, his voice weary. "It's none of your fucking business so leave me alone."

Y/N felt a flare of anger. "You never left me alone when I asked you to. Why should I leave you alone?"

Jimin's eyes snapped to hers, his expression a mix of surprise and irritation. "Fine," he bit out, "but keep your fucking voice down."

Y/N leaned in, her curiosity piqued. "Why are you working so much?"

Jimin's eyes searched hers for a moment, and then he sighed, his shoulders dropping. "You really want to know?"

Y/N nodded, her eyes unwavering.

Jimin leaned back in his chair, his gaze dropping to the worn pages of his textbook. "It's for your scholarship," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I have to pay for it..."

Y/N's eyes went wide with shock. "My scholarship? What are you talking about?"

Jimin looked up, his eyes meeting hers with a surprising vulnerability. "I asked for you to be re-admitted. And I'm paying for it. I didn't want you to know, I just wanted to make it right."

Y/N's world tilted on its axis. The air grew thick with the weight of his confession. "Why?" she breathed, unable to hide the tremble in her voice.

Jimin's eyes searched hers, a look of utter bewilderment crossing his face. "Because I was an idiot," he said finally, his voice raw. "You were suffering so much because of me."

Y/N felt the weight of his words, her chest tightening. "So you're working all these extra shifts to pay for my tuiton?" she asked, her voice a mere whisper.

Jimin nodded, his gaze not leaving hers. "Yeah," he said, his voice gruff.

Y/N's eyes filled with tears, a mix of anger, shock, and something she didn't quite recognize. She had never expected anything like this from Jimin. "Why?" she asked again, her voice shaking.

Jimin rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at her. "Because I realized what a piece of shit I was to you," he said, his voice barely audible. "And because... I don't know, okay? I just don't want you to hate me anymore."

Y/N stared at him, her mind racing. This wasn't the Jimin she knew. The Jimin she knew didn't care about anyone but himself. This was a different person, someone she didn't know how to handle. "Why should I believe you?" she asked, her voice laced with doubt.

Jimin met her gaze, his eyes earnest. "Because I'm fucking telling you the truth," he said, his voice firm. "I messed up. I hurt you. And now, I'm trying to make it right."

Y/N felt a knot form in her throat. She didn't know what to say, how to feel. This revelation was like a sucker punch she hadn't seen coming. She looked down at her hands, trying to compose herself.

At 12am, Y/N showed up at the café, ready to start her night shift with Jimin. He was already behind the counter, his eyes bloodshot, his movements jerky from exhaustion. He glared at her as she clocked in, setting her bag in the backroom.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he snapped.

Y/N ignored his gruff tone and started restocking the drinks. "Mr. Kim said you were working a double today," she said. "You can't keep doing this to yourself."

Jimin's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. "It's none of your concern," he said, his voice edged with irritation.

Y/N rolled her eyes, grabbing an apron. "Well, it's my shift now, too," she said, tying it around her waist. "So, I'm here to work."

Jimin's eyes flashed with anger. "You should be in bed," he snapped. "You're going to wear yourself out."

Y/N turned to face him, her own frustration bubbling over. "And what about you? You're the one who's been working around the clock for months now!"

Jimin's eyes searched hers, the exhaustion in them clear. "It's different," he said, his voice tight.

"How is it different?" Y/N challenged, her voice rising slightly. "You're killing yourself to pay for my education because of a mistake you made, and you're telling me not to worry about it?"

Jimin's jaw clenched, his eyes dark. "Whatever," he said through gritted teeth.

Y/N didn't know what to say, so she started making coffee. The hiss of the machine filled the tense silence between them, the scent of freshly ground beans mixing with the stale air of the café. She could feel his gaze on her, but she refused to meet his eyes, focusing instead on the task at hand.

As the night dragged on, they worked in a strained harmony, serving the stragglers who stumbled in for a late-night cup of coffee or a warm pastry. Y/N studied Jimin out of the corner of her eye, noticing the way his hands trembled as he poured drinks, the way his eyes kept drifting to the clock.

"You can't keep doing this," she said finally, breaking the silence. "It's not healthy."

Jimin scoffed, his eyes never leaving his task. "I can handle it."

Y/N slammed down the milk steamer with more force than necessary, making him jump. "No, you can't!" she exclaimed. "You're going to end up in the hospital if you don't stop!"

Jimin glared at her, his eyes flashing with something she couldn't quite read. "It's my decision to make, not yours," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check. "What if I help you?" she offered, her voice softer now. "We can split the cost of my tuiton. It's not fair for you to bear it all."

Jimin's grip on the coffee pot tightened, his knuckles turning white. "It's not your burden to carry," he said firmly. "It's mine."

Y/N's eyes searched his, her own determination unyielding. "Well, it's not just your burden anymore," she said. "We're splitting the cost whether you like it or not."

Jimin's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. They worked through the night in a tense silence, the air between them thick with unspoken words.

As the clock ticked closer to 4am, Jimin's eyelids grew heavy, his body begging for rest. He had been fighting sleep all night, but the exhaustion was winning. He stumbled to one of the empty tables, his head falling heavily onto his arms. Y/N watched him, a flicker of concern in her eyes. She knew he was stubborn, that he wouldn't admit when he was pushed too far.

For a moment, she considered waking him, scolding him for his idiotic behavior. But as she looked at him, she saw the boy beneath the bully facade, the one who had held her hand through the darkest moments of her sickness. And she couldn't bring herself to disturb him. So she took over, her movements swift and efficient as she handled the dwindling number of customers.

Every now and then, she'd glance over at Jimin, his chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of sleep. In the dim light of the café, with his guard down, he looked... beautiful. The harsh lines of his face had softened, and for once, the cruel smirk was nowhere to be seen. She had never allowed herself to think of him like that, but now, with the quiet of the night and his vulnerability laid bare, it was impossible not to.

At 6am, Y/N had no choice but to wake Jimin. Gently, she placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin through his thin shirt. "Jimin," she whispered, "you can go home now."

He startled awake, his eyes flying open. For a brief moment, they stared at each other, the silence stretching taut. Then he sat up with a groan, rubbing his face with his hands. "Fuck," he muttered, his voice hoarse with sleep.

Y/N felt a pang of sympathy, watching him struggle to get his bearings. "You should get some rest," she said, her voice gentle.

Jimin grunted, pushing himself to his feet. "Bye," he said, his eyes avoiding hers.

Y/N nodded, her heart heavy. "Bye," she murmured, watching him leave the café with a sense of unease.

The following days at university were a blur of lectures and lab work, but Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between her and Jimin. They had always had a contentious relationship, but now there was something... different. Something that felt almost like a truce, but was too fragile to be called friendship.

Jimin had stopped his overt bullying, instead watching her from the corner of his eye in class, his gaze unreadable. It was unnerving, but she couldn't deny the small part of her that felt a flicker of something more than irritation whenever he was around.

One afternoon, as she was leaving the lab, her heavy backpack slipped from her shoulders, spilling textbooks and notes across the floor. "Fuck," she muttered under her breath, kneeling down to gather her things.

Jimin had been passing by, his eyes on his phone, but he looked up at the sound of her curse. His gaze fell on the mess around her, and without a word, he set his own bag aside and crouched down beside her. His hands moved swiftly, collecting her books and papers with an efficiency that surprised her.

Y/N stilled for a moment, unsure of how to respond to this uncharacteristic gesture of kindness. She watched as he carefully stacked her books back into her backpack, his movements gentle and precise. It was a stark contrast to the roughness she had come to expect from him.

When he was done, Jimin straightened up, not saying a word. He didn't look at her, just handed her the bag. Y/N's eyes searched his, looking for some clue as to what was going on behind that stoic expression. But his face was a mask of indifference, giving nothing away.

Without another word, he turned and started to walk away. Y/N felt a strange mix of gratitude and confusion. "Wait," she called out, her voice stopping him in his tracks. He turned, his eyes questioning. "Thank you," she said, the words feeling awkward on her tongue.

Jimin's expression remained unreadable. "It's nothing," he said with a shrug, turning to leave again.

Y/N bit her lip, feeling like she had missed something. But she had her own shifts to manage and classes to attend, so she couldn't dwell on it too much. Yet, Jimin's unexpected gesture stayed with her, replaying in her mind like a puzzle she couldn't solve.

Jimin sat in his cramped dorm room, the silence deafening. His thoughts kept drifting to Y/N, to her fiery spirit and the way she had looked at him when he'd picked up her books. He had felt something then, something that made his chest tighten and his stomach flip. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time, if ever. He found himself replaying their interactions in his head, looking for clues he might have missed. Was it possible that he actually liked her? The girl he had spent so much time pushing around and belittling? It was a bizarre revelation, one that made him feel like he didn't know who he was anymore.

In class, he found himself staring at the back of her head, his eyes tracing the curve of her neck, the way her hair fell in soft waves down her back. He would catch himself and look away, only to find his gaze drawn back to her again and again. It was infuriating, this newfound obsession. He'd always been the one in control, the one calling the shots, but with Y/N, it was like she had some kind of power over him that he didn't understand.

He tried to push the thoughts away, focusing on the lecture at hand, but it was no use. His mind kept wandering back to her, to the way she'd looked at him with those big brown eyes when he'd brought her the medicine. The way she'd leaned into his touch, even just for a brief moment, as he'd helped her to bed. The way she'd called him out on his shit without flinching. She was so fucking... incredible.

And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that maybe, just maybe, he didn't just like her. Maybe he was falling for her. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. Jimin Park, the bad boy with a heart of stone, was falling for the one girl who had never given a shit about his charm or his status. It was fucking absurd. But as he sat there, his heart racing and his palms sweaty, he couldn't deny it anymore. He was falling for Y/N, the girl who was the complete opposite of his 'type.' And he didn't know what to do.

The next day at the café, Y/N walked in wearing a skirt for the first time. All her pants were in the laundry machine and she had no other choice, the fabric swishing around her legs with every step she took. Jimin's eyes snapped up from the counter, his gaze unmistakably drawn to her. His jaw clenched as he watched her, his heart rate spiking. She looked... different. Vulnerable. And it made him want to both protect her and claim her as his own. It was a confusing mess of emotions that he didn't know how to navigate.

As the hours ticked by, his thoughts grew more and more erratic. He couldn't focus on the customers, his eyes drifting back to her legs every chance he got. He had to get a grip. This was not how he operated. But every time she'd lean over the counter to grab something, he'd catch a glimpse of her bare skin, and his thoughts would spiral out of control.

Eventually, as the café emptied out and the night grew later, they found themselves alone. Y/N was coming out of the bathroom, her cheeks still flushed from washing her face, her eyes meeting his in the hallway. Jimin's chest tightened, his resolve crumbling. He couldn't take it anymore.

With a swift movement, he backed her up against the wall, his hand coming to rest around her neck, not tight enough to scare but firm enough to hold her in place. His other hand found her waist, his fingers digging in slightly. He leaned in, his breath hot against her face. "Why are you so fucking annoying?" he murmured, his voice strained with frustration and want.

Y/N's eyes widened, her heart racing. She didn't know if she should be scared or... excited. This was not the Jimin she knew. This was a Jimin who was conflicted, his usual confidence shaky. She could feel his warm breath against her cheek, his hand on her neck not tight but firm, a silent demand for her attention. Her pulse thrummed beneath his touch, sending waves of heat through her body.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She didn't push him away, didn't fight. There was something in his eyes that made her heart race, something she hadn't seen before.

"I don't know," Jimin admitted, his gaze dropping to her lips.

Y/N's breath hitched as she felt his hand tighten slightly around her neck. She could see the turmoil in his eyes, the fight between the bully and the boy who had held her hand through the dark. She didn't know which one she wanted to win.

Suddenly, Jimin leaned in closer, his nose brushing against hers. Y/N's eyes fluttered closed, her body betraying her. She felt his breath on her lips, the anticipation making her stomach flip.

But the kiss didn't come. Instead, Jimin's hand left her neck and moved to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing against the soft skin. He leaned back, his gaze searching hers. "Y/N," he whispered, his voice thick with something unfamiliar.

Y/N's eyes snapped open, her chest heaving. She didn't know what to say, what to do. She felt a strange mix of fear and excitement, her mind racing. "Yes?" she asked, her voice shaky.

Jimin's gaze searched hers, his thumb continuing to stroke her cheek. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice sincere. "For everything."

Y/N's breath hitched. "Jimin, it's okay. I forgave you a long time ago."

He searched her eyes, his own filled with doubt. "You're too nice," he said, his voice low. "What I did was awful. What I said back then. None of it was true."

Y/N felt her heart stutter. She had never seen this side of Jimin before, raw and exposed. She didn't know if she was ready to hear his apology, let alone believe it. "It's ok," she whispered.

But Jimin wasn't finished. "No, it's not," he said, his voice hoarse. "I was a fucking asshole, and I don't deserve your forgiveness." His eyes searched hers, and for a moment, she saw the pain he had been carrying all this time, the guilt that had driven him to work himself to the bone.

Y/N's heart softened, the anger she had held onto slowly dissipating. "We've all made mistakes," she said gently. "It's what we do after that matters."

Jimin's gaze held hers for a moment longer before he leaned in, closing the space between their lips. It was a soft kiss, tentative and questioning, as if asking for permission. Y/N's eyes closed on their own accord, and she leaned into it, feeling the warmth of his mouth, the gentle pressure of his thumb on her cheek. It was nothing like she had ever expected from him, but somehow it felt right.

His lips moved against hers, a silent apology, a promise of something more. Y/N's hand found his arm, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, holding onto the strength she hadn't known she needed. The kiss deepened, the tension in the air palpable as they both grappled with the sudden intimacy. It was a kiss filled with regret and hope, a silent acknowledgment of the past and a plea for the future.

Jimin's hand slid from her cheek to the back of her neck, pulling her closer, as if trying to erase the space that had existed between them for so long. Y/N's heart hammered against her ribcage, the sensation of his touch sending sparks dancing across her skin. His thumb traced lazy circles along her jaw, sending shivers down her spine. The kiss grew more urgent, more demanding, as if trying to make up for lost time.

Y/N's hand found its way to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under her palm. It matched the rhythm of her own, a frantic symphony of emotions that played out in the silence of the café. Her other hand slid around his waist, pulling him closer still, as if trying to meld their bodies into one. She felt the tension in his muscles, the weight of his guilt and fear, but she didn't care. In that moment, all she cared about was the way he was looking at her, the way his mouth felt against hers.

They broke apart, both panting, eyes wide and searching. The air between them was charged with something new, something neither of them had expected. "Jimin," she whispered, her voice shaky.

He swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving hers. "I've been thinking," he began, his thumb still caressing the line of her jaw. "About us."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "What about us?"

Jimin cupped her face, "I like you, Y/N," he confessed, his voice raw with emotion. "I know it's fucked up, considering how I treated you, but I can't help it."

Y/N's eyes searched his, disbelief and hope warring within her. "You... you like me?" she stuttered.

Jimin nodded, his expression earnest. "Yes," he said, his voice a low rumble.

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Jimin, I... I like you too," she admitted, her voice trembling with emotion.

He searched her face, the doubt in his eyes slowly fading. "You do?"

Y/N nodded, her cheeks flushing. "Yes, I do."

Jimin's grip on her waist tightened slightly, his eyes lighting up with relief and something else, something she didn't quite recognize. "Since when?" he asked, his voice low and gruff.

Y/N took a deep breath, her heart racing. "Since you took care of me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jimin's eyes searched hers, the surprise evident. "Really?"

Y/N nodded, her pulse racing. "I never thought you'd change," she confessed, her voice trembling. "But you did. You showed me kindness when I needed it."

Jimin's thumb traced the curve of her cheek, his eyes searching hers. "I've wanted to tell you for a while," he murmured, "but I didn't know how. I was afraid of screwing everything up."

Y/N's breath hitched, her hand finding its way to his chest again. "You haven't," she assured him, her voice a soft whisper.

Jimin's gaze grew intense, his hand sliding down to grip hers, holding it tightly. "I don't know how to do this," he said, his voice tight with frustration. "How to be good to someone, to not be a complete asshole."

Y/N's heart swelled with something she hadn't allowed herself to feel before. Compassion. "You're already doing it," she said, her voice gentle. "You just have to keep trying."

Jimin stared at her, his eyes searching. "You really believe that?"

Y/N nodded, her gaze steady. "I do."

Their eyes remained locked, the intensity of the moment stretching out between them. Then, without another word, Jimin leaned in and kissed her again. This time, it was slower, more deliberate, as if he was savoring the taste of her lips. Y/N melted into the kiss, her hands sliding around his waist as she pulled him closer.

The café's bell chimed, signaling the end of their shift, but neither of them moved to break away. The world outside had faded into the background, replaced by the intoxicating feeling of their bodies pressed together. When they finally did pull back, they were both breathless, their cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

Y/N looked up at Jimin, her heart racing. "What does this mean?" she whispered.

Jimin took a deep breath, his eyes still on hers. "It means I'm yours," he said.

Y/N felt a thrill run through her at his words, but she knew it wasn't going to be easy. "And I'm yours, Jimin."

Jimin's eyes searched hers, and she saw a flicker of doubt. "I don't deserve you, baby," he murmured.

Y/N placed a finger over his lips. "You're right, you don't," she said with a small smile. "But maybe that's exactly why you need me."

The words hung in the air, charged with a newfound understanding. Jimin searched her eyes, the doubt slowly fading away. He leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers, his breath warm and even. "I'll do better," he murmured. "I promise."

Y/N's heart swelled with hope, but she knew it wasn't going to be easy. "You don't have to change for me," she said softly. "But for us to work, you do need to change for you."

Jimin's expression grew serious, his eyes searching hers. "I know," he said, his voice thick. "I've been thinking about that a lot. I don't want to be that guy anymore."

Y/N nodded, her heart racing. "Good," she whispered. "Because I don't want you to be either."

Their eyes remained locked, the weight of their words hanging in the air. Slowly, Jimin leaned in, pressing his lips to hers again. This time, the kiss was gentle, filled with the promise of a future together. Y/N felt a warmth spread through her, a feeling she hadn't allowed herself to feel in so long.

As they broke apart, the café lights flickered, reminding them of the time. They had to close up and go home, but for a moment, all they could do was stand there, holding each other's gaze.

"We should go," Y/N murmured, reluctance in her voice.

Jimin nodded, his hand still resting on her waist. "Yeah," he said, his voice husky with emotion. They went through the motions of closing the café, their movements coordinated and efficient despite the tumult in their hearts. As they stepped outside into the cool night air, the reality of their confession started to sink in. "So, what now?" Y/N asked, her voice small and uncertain.

"My place?" Jimin asked.

Y/N nodded, "Yeah, let's go."

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