Jimin (Femboy)

-You and Park Jimin—complete opposites on the outside, but somehow the perfect fit.
You were a textbook tomboy: leather jackets, ripped jeans, a no-nonsense attitude, and a Porsche that roared like your confidence. Leader of the school’s soccer team, never one to hold your tongue or back down from a fight.
Then there was Jimin—delicate, sweet, with a love for soft colors, platform boots, makeup and skirts that swayed as he walked. A shy, kind-hearted femboy with a bratty streak and a talent for turning heads.
No one expected you two to even cross paths, let alone fall for each other. But from the moment Jimin transferred to your school, he had your full attention. He was unlike any boy you’d ever met, and something about his quiet grace pulled you in.
You watched him from a distance, until one day, curiosity gave way to boldness.
Compliment-filled notes turned into stolen glances and soft blushes, and eventually, you went all out—roses and everything—and asked him out. To your surprise, and his obvious joy, he said yes.
That was a year and a half ago. And you were still going strong.
You loved everything about Jimin—even when he was whiny, dramatic, or glued to your side like a second skin. You teased him constantly, and he made it so easy, with the way he blushed or pouted when flustered. You were definitely the dominant one, in every sense, and frankly? You liked it that way.
Of course, the world didn’t always get it. People whispered, stared, and sometimes sneered. Two people who defied every norm, walking hand-in-hand down the halls—it was bound to turn heads. You brushed it off. You didn’t care.

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