Dad Jimin - Tumblr Posts

𝒲𝒾𝓁𝒹 𝐹𝓁𝑜𝓌𝑒𝓇

PAIRING: JIMIN X READER 

Word Count: 3.7k  

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been together for as long as you can remember. However, when you find out that you were pregnant you didn't know what else to do but run away in fear of his reaction.  

ℙ𝕃𝔼𝔸𝕊𝔼 𝔻𝕆 ℕ𝕆𝕋 ℝ𝔼ℙ𝕆𝕊𝕋 𝕎𝕀𝕋ℍ𝕆𝕌𝕋 𝕄𝕐 ℙ𝔼ℝ𝕄𝕀𝕊𝕊𝕀𝕆ℕ.

You looked at the test in your hands. Positive. Your thoughts prior had been confirmed, you were pregnant. Without a doubt, you were happy that you were pregnant but as much as you knew Jimin would still love you and the child, you were worried if he was ready to settle down. For something more than just girlfriend and boyfriend. Was Jimin ready for these responsibilities? Would he love you just as much? Is he ready to even get married?! Doing the thing that you were best at, you grabbed your items and left the shared apartment that Jimin had bought for you both. You then called your friend, Haeji and your brother Doyoung to meet up.  

You arrived at the park near Doyoung's house and it didn't take long to spot your brother and Haeji sitting on the benches. Taking a seat on the bench you told them the news, "I'm pregnant with Jimin's child." There was a subtle silence before your brother asked, "Is Jimin willing to take responsibility for you and the child? Have you even told him yet?!"  

"I haven't told Jimin yet but I'm afraid that he's not ready" You shook your head as tears began to run down your face. Haeji, speechless, tried to comfort you the best she could. Rubbing your back soothingly and whispering that 'everything  will be okay'. Your brother and Haeji understood that you needed a moment, they knew you were afraid. Afraid of parenthood and of Jimin.  

"Y/N, I think Jimin would be more than willing to take you both into care. The man really loves you and I don't think you need to be afraid. I've seen how much Jimin cares for you and how he even bought a place for you both so that he knows you're safe and that you won't miss him so much. So please, don't let your doubt get the most of you." Haeji nodded, agreeing with your brother's statement. "He looks at you with so much adoration and love sweety."  

"Yea Y/N I know you're worried but I think you might be thinking too much into this. Jimin's love for you is endless and I think instead of worrying him that you fled, you should go and tell him the news. I think he'll be more than overjoyed. He'll make a great father and a loving husband." Haeji added onto Doyoung's statement. It wasn't after having heard their comforting words, you thanked them and started to cheer up a bit.

"Doyoung, would it be okay if I stayed at your house for a while? I think I might need some time before I have the courage to tell Jimin the news."  

"Sure Y/N, take the time you need but not too long or else your Jiminnie might miss you" Doyoung teased. "But I'll let Jimin know so he won't freak out that you're gone." He reassured.

"Thank you so much Doyoung and Haeji, I didn't mean to bother you guys but I was just scared." You sniffled.

"It's okay to be scared Y/N. I probably would have been afraid too. We all have doubts but if you need time, we'll allow you to think it through first. Doyoung and I know that you and Jimin would make great parents!" Haeji's last statement caused you to laugh and feel slightly better.  

"Don't be sad Y/N-ie or else Doyoungie will be sad." You and Haeji laughed at your brothers attempt at being cute.  

"Eww please don't do that, it makes me feel like I have a weird boyfriend." Haeji cringed.  

"Okay but Jimin does it all the time and I don't see you saying anything." Doyoung huffed.  

"Hold up, at least Jimin is naturally cute." You defended.  

"Are you saying that I'm not cute?! You're probably just saying that because Jimin is your soon to be husband." Doyoung pouted.  

"No, I agree with Y/N Jimin is just overflowing with cuteness." Haeji said in an attempt to make Doyoung jealous. It seemed to work because soon after Doyoung had his arms crossed and was pouting. You laughed at their childish behavior. "Aww is my Doyoungie mad at me. I'm sorry baby, I think you're cute, probably not as much as Jimin, but you're my baby." Haeji cooed. It wasn't until moments later that Doyoung gave in and gave Haeji a quick peck on the lips before smiling again. Haeji smiled back leading up to the both of them coming in for a big hug afterwards. You watched them and smiled. It reminded you of you and Jimin. All the morning kisses he gives you before leaving to work and the cuddles he gives whenever he's home. You loved Jimin undoubtfully. You knew he would miss you and you would miss him but you knew you needed time. You also wanted to plan something special to tell him that you were pregnant. Knowing that both your brother and best friend were being lovey dovey, you took that time to plan the day you were going to tell Jimin of your pregnancy.  

…

Jimin arrived home at around 8 pm. He was excited to be home so that he could shower you in kisses. However when he went into  the apartment, he realized that it was empty. He checked the shared room but only saw that it was empty as well. Worry coursed through Jimin's mind. Where did Y/N go? Did she go somewhere and forget to tell me? Is she safe? She's usually home by this time.  Jimin checked the apartment one last time to search for any sign that the apartment was broken into but he found no sign. As a last resort, Jimin called Doyoung knowing that Y/N had probably went to her brother or Haeji to spend time with them. Jimin dialed Doyoung's number and it wasn't long before Doyoung picked up. "Hyung, is Y/N okay? Is she safe? Is she with you?" He questioned as soon as the call was picked up.

"Your Y/N is doing fine don't worry. She's with me. She just wanted some time to herself for now. I'll make sure she comes home and to work safely." Doyoung laughed.  

"Okay thanks hyung. I was really worried."  

"It's no problem but I'm sorry that she forgot to tell you." Doyoung apologized.  

"Oh no its okay hyung. I know she can be forgetful at times and if she wants some space I'll let her. I'm sure she misses you and Haeji." Doyoung was touched by Jimin's understanding. Y/N really caught the jackpot he thought. "But hyung do you know when she's coming back?" Doyoung sighed knowing that the younger might not take this the best way.  

"Jimin, Y/N loves you a lot and I know that you know that but I think it might take weeks. Please don't take this the wrong way. She isn't mad at you or anything but she just has a lot on her mind right now." Doyoung reassured the younger knowing that Jimin might overthink things.  

"Ok, I understand hyung. Thank you." Jimin ended the call and sighed. What was he going to do without you for awhile? Hearing his stomach grumble, he headed to the kitchen to make himself a meal. Searching the fridge, he found ingredients to make his dinner.  

…  

An hour later, Jimin sat at the table alone with his plate of food. Sitting down, he realized that he had made enough food for 2 people. Jimin sat alone at the table and munched on his dinner in silence. He felt empty. Although he knew that you needed her own space, it felt weird without you talking and him replying cheekily or you listening to him about his day at work. Jimin quickly ate his food and when he finished he cleaned up the kitchen before heading to the bedroom. Grabbing his towel and clothes he headed to the shower.  

…

You came out of the shower and headed for the guest bed that was provided along with the guest room. When near the bed, you fixed the fluffed the pillows and placed them accordingly before laying down. It felt weird not spending the night in one of Jimin's cuddles. It was something you got used to when you moved out to live with him. But now that you were alone once again, it was hard to fall asleep. You thought about if you were with Jimin right now, he would have cuddled you and sang you to sleep if he knew you had trouble sleeping. Knowing that thinking about Jimin would make it harder for you to sleep, you thought about your plan to surprise the man you love. Would Jimin like it? It was an hour later of thinking that finally led you to sleep.  

…

Jimin laid on the bed staring at the ceiling that was looking right back at him. It was only day one of you not here and he was already feeling lonely. He thought about how close your bodies would be and how warm it was to be right next to one another. How cute you would look while you slept. Jimin knowing that if you were to be needing space decided that tomorrow he would be hanging out with the boys before heading home. After tossing and turning for about 30 minutes, Jimin finally fell asleep.  

…

You were in the guest room, packing up all your items before your brother would come pick you up. It had been a month since you last saw Jimin and in that time, your tummy had not grew in any infinitely special way but you knew it was maturing and preparing for pregnancy. You felt bad to have left him for that long but the plan to surprise him had been finalized. After negotiating and planning with Jimin's friends, you were finally able to set the plan into action. Jimin, according to his friends, was supposed to be in Japan right now for business matters and would be arriving in 5 hours. Which would allow you enough time to surprise him. Gathering the rest of your items and zipping up the suitcase you headed out to your brothers car.  

It was a 30 minute car ride before you arrived at the shared apartment. Getting out of the car, you, your brother and Haeji helped to unload your suitcase before heading up. Upon opening the door to the flat, you realized that everything had been the same. Jimin had kept the place in relatively good shape. If not better than you had left. Heading into the bedroom, you put your items away before making a meal for you three. After the meal, Haeji and your brother had set up the balloons and banners while you cleaned up the house by dusting the blinds and wiping down every surface. Once the place had been set up, Doyoung and Haeji left to pick up the cake you ordered 2 days prior. The house now smelled clean and of homey food. Knowing that Jimin was probably homesick from the business trip and probably missing you, you made his favorite foods. Along with his favorite desserts. Adding in one last pinch of salt into the soup, you started on writing the notes that would be placed around the house. When you heard the doorbell ring, that was when you stopped writing. Opening the door, you saw the delivery man with the crib that you had bought. Since you had paid extra for the service fee, the man had helped you to set up the bed in your and Jimin's room. It was an hour later that the man left and you thanked him for helping you set up the bed. Once the man was gone, you resumed writing the notes and sticking them around the house in places you knew Jimin would find them. With the notes finally finished, you got the flower petals that were supposed to go in the bath and around the house. You made a trail with the flower petals to the first clue before putting petals around the bed. The rest of the petals were saved for the bath later. Letting out a big breath, you looked at the clock to see that you had about an hour before Jimin arrived home. With the time left over, you tried to reheat the food on the stove and set up the table. It wasn't long before you heard the door beginning to rattle. Taking that as a que, you grabbed the cake that was dropped off, out of the fridge and put it into the well-made and decorated crib. It was then that you hid in the bathroom closet, waiting for Jimin's arrival.  

…

Jimin opened the door, expecting to see an empty house like he had seen for the past month but when closing the door behind him he saw the house was decorated. The house had smelt of homemade food and it was warm, not cold like it had been for the past month. Is Y/N home? Confused with the decorations, he followed the flower trail to a note.  

IT'S BEEN AWHILE... I KNOW YOU MISS ME AND I MISS YOU TOO. IF YOU REMEMBER, OUR FIRST DATE WAS...  

Jimin thought for a second. Our first date was the beach. Jimin dropped the first note and went to the small bookshelf where sea shells decorated the top. Jimin looked through each sea shell collected from that beach until he finally found another note.  

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH BABY. I'M SORRY TO HAVE BEEN GONE SO LONG BUT WHAT DID WE DO WHEN WE FIRST MOVED INTO THIS APARTMENT?  

We cooked for the first time together. Jimin made his way into the kitchen where he saw the set up table. He looked at the food and was reminded of the day they tried to make the same foods. It wasn't long before he found the next note.  

YOU REMEMBER HOW WE MADE THESE FOODS BECAUSE THEY WERE YOUR FAVORITES. YOU SAID THEY TASTED SO GOOD AND THE NEW REASON WHY THEY WERE YOUR FAVORITES WAS BECAUSE I MADE THEM.  

Jimin smiled then put the note down. "Y/N I know you're here. I love you so much but baby please come out. I want to see you already. Can you come out so I can give you the kisses you missed out on? Baby, I don't want this charade to go on. I know you want to tell me something but you're just scared, but I guarantee you, I'll still love you. Your brother told me, you were afraid to tell me something please just tell me. I love you so so much please don't be silly." Jimin pleaded desperately then looked around for any sign of you. You almost cried and wanted to come out at his plea. You knew he was desperate to see you but the surprise wasn't over yet. Jimin out of urgency, went into the room to find you but there was no trace, however, he found the set up crib. Running up to the crib, he found the last note and a cake that said 'We're going to be parents!'  

JIMIN, HONEY, THE REAL REASON I LEFT FOR SO LONG WAS BECAUSE I HAD SOMETHING TO TELL YOU. I'M PREGNANT WITH OUR CHILD. I'M SO HAPPY BUT I WAS SCARED TO TELL YOU AND SEE HOW YOU WOULD REACT. I WAS ALSO AFRAID OF PARENTHOOD. PLEASE FORGIVE ME FOR MY STUPDITY AND OVERTHINKING. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND I'M SURE WE'RE GOING TO BE GREAT PARENTS. IT'S BEEN A MONTH AND THERE WERE TIMES WHERE I WANTED TO COME BACK AND RUN INTO YOUR ARMS AND TELL YOU BUT I KNEW THAT TO MAKE THIS MORE EMOTIONAL, WE WOULD NEED SOME TIME APART. I LOVE YOU ALWAYS AND EVEN IN THE AFTERLIFE. PLEASE DON'T CRY WHEN YOU READ THIS. NOW PUT THIS DOWN AND COME LOOK FOR ME ;)  

"You silly goose, how do you expect me not to cry. I love you even more that you're carrying our child." Jimin silently wept before putting down the note and looking around the room. "Y/N! When I find you, expect a big hug and lots of kisses! You better hide good or else, it's going to be nonstop kisses! Here I come!" Jimin excitedly ran around the apartment and searched every cranny that he thought you would hide in. It wasn't long before he looked in the bathroom and found you in to closet. "I found you!" Jimin smiled as he ran towards you. You squealed and tried to run away. However, it wasn't long before Jimin caught you in a strong back hug and tried nuzzling his head in your neck. Your heart fluttered. Being near Jimin like this again felt nice. It felt like home and you didn't ever want to let him go. "Y/N-ie I missed you so so much. I know you were scared but don't you ever do that again. I was so lonely without you and your warm body that I cuddle and kiss every day. It was so lonely without your presence, how could you resist your boyfriend for so long?" Jimin pouted. "Aren't I cute? Too cute to resist?" You laughed at Jimin's expression to which he frowned even more.  

"Okay, my little baby mochi, I missed you so much that I felt like going crazy." You cooed and expanded you arms in the air to show how much you missed him.  

"If you miss me, give me a kiss then." Jimin puckered his lips out waiting for a kiss. You waited a few minutes before Jimin turned the other way with his arms crossed and pouted. "See you didn't even kiss m-" Jimin was cut off with a quick peck. "Heyyy it wasn't even long. Let me show you how a kiss is like" With that, Jimin pulled you in and kissed you deeply. It felt like forever since he last kissed you. Your mouths moulded against one another's as you both tried to kiss away the longing that once etched your hearts. As the kiss continued, Jimin pulled you in closer before breaking apart. "Baby, you don't need to worry. I'm even more happy that you're pregnant. I love you in every way so please feel free to talk to me about whatever. I don't know what crossed your mind but tell me. Let your little mochi know what happened for the past month."  

"I'm so sorry. I was scared. I was scared you were going to leave me. I was scared you wouldn't want a baby because it would mean more responsibilities. I thought you, we weren't ready yet for a baby." You cried and it was then when Jimin soothed out your hair and pecked you lightly on your temple to reassure you that you cried harder.  

"Is that why you were scared baby? I'm sorry if I made you worry. I'm willing to take responsibility and mature a little more so we can take care of our little bean."  

"Thank you for being so understanding Jiminie."  

"Now, should we go out there and eat the dinner you made me and then we could take a bath together." You nodded your head in affirmation while Jimin took you both to the dining area.  

"Wait, let me warm up the food again." You took the food and quickly heated it up. Jimin sat at the table, looking at you heat up the food with a smile. He had missed this view. It would be even better if he had proposed earlier. He thought that if he did, you probably wouldn't have freaked out like you had. "Okay here we go. Now eat up baby!" You smiled. Jimin had missed your smile and he swore when he saw it, he wanted nothing else but to see the twinkles to continue to glimmer in your eyes. Jimin dug in and exclaimed in moans to show how good the food was. With occasional forced feedings from Jimin, the food was finished and you both were cuddling on the couch watching a movie. "Jiminie, did you miss me a lot?" Jimin answered with a hum indicating that he had. "Will you forgive me?' Jimin turned from the movie playing on the screen.  

"I already forgave you, you silly goose." Jimin nuzzled your noses before giving you smooches. You giggled at his smooches before asking, "You look really tired Jiminie, you want to take a bath now?" Without any notice, Jimin yelled out a 'Yes!' And then proceeded to carry you bridal style to the bathroom making you squeal at the sudden carrying. You both stripped off your clothes before getting into the tub.  

You both sat in the tub relaxed, with your back against Jimin's chest. "Y/N, I can't wait until our little bean is born. The baby is going to have such amazing parents. And we're in this together so don't worry. If you're ever scared, we still have our parents to talk to. And we have each other." Jimin stared at you lovingly before squeezing your hand in reassurance.  

"Thank you so much Jiminie. I'm so grateful to have met you. You're so understanding that sometimes, I don't feel enough but I love you just as much." You blew on the bubbles and played with the petals in the tub. The bathroom was in gentle silence before Jimin pulled you closer to his chest and started caressing your stomach. You gasped, shocked with his actions. You tried to take his hands off but he stopped you.  

"I didn't mean to scare you, Y/N. I just wanted to feel our little bean. I can't wait to go to our first appointment together!" Jimin kissed your cheek before you both decided it was time to get out and go to bed.  

…

7 months later, Jimin had been true to his word. He became much more responsible and mature. He helped you when you needed it and loved you like no tomorrow. You and Jimin were now engaged. It was in the 5th month that you were pregnant that he proposed and with the overflow of hormones felt during pregnancy you bawled worrying your fiancé. It was a sight to see. The love you had stayed strong like it always was and looking back to the moment when you freaked out, you felt foolish for feeling such way. Throughout the months, you realized that no matter what, Jimin would love you, except if you cheated of course. Jimin's devotion and undying love only added to your loyalty to the man. And despite the many obstacles that you both will encounter in the future, you were willing to go through it together with him. Because you were his flower to guide him in the wind.  

A/N: I might add in a little drabble series of Y/N’s journey. Probably just little snippets. But I hope it was enjoyable! 

baby tumbles - pjm

pairings: husband!jimin x wife!reader

synopsis: where yours and Jimin’s daughter falls off the bed.

genre: absolute fluff; established relationship

warning(s): light cussing

word count: 0.6k

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↳ main masterlist

// unedited

“Dove, stop jumping on mommy’s bed, please.” You sigh, folding her laundry and placing it in her drawers. You could hear Jimin encouraging your growing girl to ignore your pleas and continues to allow her to bounce on the bed.

The giggling child continues to jump on yours and Jimin’s bed, happily hopping from one end of your bed to the other. It hasn’t been long since she started enjoying the make-shift trampoline, almost always jumping on your shared bed every chance she got.

Yona hasn’t always been the type to play around like this. If it hadn’t been for your husband coaxing her to start bouncing on your bed a few weeks ago, you wouldn’t constantly be worrying that she’d fall.

“C’mon Dove , look jump, jump, jump!”

Just by the sounds of Jimin’s voice, you had a feeling he was capturing the moment on his phone, recording your daughter’s giggles and her bouncing figure as she continues to play.

“Jimin,” You called sternly, still folding your daughter’s laundry and eyeing your husband.

“She’s fine, jagiya.” He calls over his shoulder.

“Jimin she might fall between the beds!”

The layout of your sleeping arrangements was the biggest concern for you. You wouldn’t have minded if there wasn’t a chance that Yona could hurt herself, even though she’s a great walker, that didn’t mean that she was good at catching herself when she gets off balance… And jumping up and down isn’t exactly the most stable activity. There was a small space between your bed and hers; because you didn’t want to press her crib right up against the hard bottom half of your bed, you opted to the small space between, that way, if she wanted to crawl out of her crib in the mornings to lay with you and your husband, she could.

Probably not the safest sleeping arrangement, but you and Jimin loved snuggles with your little girl… How can you not have her bed close to you two?

As you sighed again, turning around to place the last piece of clothing into Yona's drawers, you heard a loud thump and shortly after Yona's whimpered cries filled the room.

“Oh fuck.”

“PARK JIMIN!” You shrieked, whirling around to see Jimin pulling up a tear-stained Yona from—you guessed it—between the beds, just like you warned him about.

“Are you okay, sweetheart, where’s ouch?” Jimin coos soothing the whimpering baby in his arms.

“Yeah, he-hewe,” Yona pats the side of her head and cuddling into her father’s chest. Jimin pouts rubbing her temple and placing a soft kiss against it.

“Did I not tell you two to stop?” You crossed your arms staring at your sheepishly looking husband.

“She was having so much fun!” He whines, still stroking Yona's head, her sobs quieting down into sniffles. You sighed sitting down next to your little family, gently taking Yona into your arms and rocking back and forth, rubbing her back gently.

“All good?” You pulled away, wiping the tears off your toddler’s cheeks as she nods gently, “Are we going to listen to mommy now?”

Yona peers at her dad from beside you who was smirking and shaking his head at her, causing her to replicate his actions, also shaking her head side to side with a cheeky smile that looked exactly like Jimin’s. You glared at Jimin who shrugs at you with a smile.

“Yona, baby, what about we play ickles instead?” Jimin says wiggling his eyebrows at the little girl in your lap.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “What’s ickles?” And before you could question further, you were tackled in kisses by your daughter and husband, calling you three to fall back onto your bed; the events of earlier long forgotten.

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let me know your thoughts ((:

tysm 😭 I'm so glad you enjoyed them 😭💗

first steps - pjm

pairings: husband!jimin x wife!reader

synopsis: where yours and Jimin's daughter takes her first steps.

genre: absolute fluff; established relationship

warning(s): none

word count: 1.3k

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note(s): helloooo, clearly, I've had a thing for daddy bts lately, so here's a cute lil drabble of our own lil mochi, with his own lil mochi ((: I have been working on many projects (mostly drabbles(AND one-shots) and one series) so hopefully this will hold ya guys until I decide to post my other ones! hope you enjoy some of this fluff (:

“Come on sweetheart, just eat your prune and custard.” Jimin sighs as he attempts to spoon feed your daughter.

The little girl pouts as she eyes her father. Her hair had grown a tremendous amount, only 8 months old, and she has a head full of it. Her little head bore tiny clips in it—Jimin’s doing—to keep it out of her face while he tries to feed her the disgusting smelling baby food.

Being a parent is never easy, that, you two knew. However, your little bundle of joy had been doing so well. Like most babies, she kept you up most nights, and only recently had she been able to sleep through the night without whimpering in her crib to be held. The sleepless nights weren’t all that bad; she never really cried loudly, but more so, she just whines in her crib just wanting to be close to you and your husband. All around, Nari was an easy baby to handle… At least up until she started eating ‘solid’ foods.

Nari is a picky eater. Extremely picky, to the point that even after two months—and many, many bottles of half eaten baby food later—you and Jimin were still figuring out what she really likes and what she doesn’t. You may think that this is easy, but it’s not. Her preferences seemed to change every day. She’ll enjoy the taste of the ‘Thanksgiving Dinner’ flavor and finish it all one day, while the next day she will spit it out on her feeding table with a pout and teary eyes. However, Nari did enjoy all kinds of fruits—if mixed with custard. It was a little concoction that you had made on a whim when you had the strawberry and banana baby food but found it too sour. So, you put a bit of custard in it, and she loved it—still loves it. But you couldn’t exactly just feed her the fruity delight for every meal; she needs to eat her vegetables and meats too.

“No, no, no,” Jimin panics once he sees his little angel sniffling as she begins to cry silently, he quickly picks her up, bouncing her in his arms; Jimin’s eyes drops to his daughter who was now free of tears with a smile that was identical to Jimin’s; Jimin tsked and groaned, “You’ve got daddy in the palm of your hands, you know that?” He accused the little girl who continues to giggle in her father’s arms, “just like your mommy.” He concluded before making his way into the kitchen to grab another bottle of baby food. This time Jimin is determined to feed Nari ‘Oatmeal and blueberries’ sneaking in some of the prune puree that she didn’t eat earlier. Popping it in the microwave for ten seconds, he continues to sway with your baby as she watched the microwave in curiosity.

Once the food was done, Jimin takes Nari back to her feeding table and strapping her in. Sitting down in front of her, your husband sighs, blowing on the mushed-up food, and bringing it to Nari’s waiting lips. Jimin held in a breath when he pushed the food past the little girl’s lips—praying that she’d enjoy it. Nari begins to furrow her eyebrows, trying to figure out the taste; when she swallows, she looks at Jimin with her wide eyes and opens her mouth again while clapping her hands together.

“Oh, thank God!” Jimin exclaims, while spoon feeding her more of the baby food. Smiling to himself, while Nari happily eats the food that her father had prepared, “Good girl, Nari! You’re such a good eater, hm?” Jimin coos.

“Good morning!” You chirped, walking into your dining room. Jimin meets your eyes with his signature smile as you made your way towards your little family. Once you reached Jimin, he puts down Nari’s food and snakes his arms around your legs and pulls you into him.

“Morning, jagi.” He says, leaning up awaiting a kiss from you. You happily oblige, bending down to meet your husband’s plump lips.

As you two finished the sweet kiss, you hear Nari cooing in the background. Averting your attention to the little girl in her highchair, you notice that she’s all smiles with her baby food spilt on her table, while she’s picking it up and shoving it into her mouth.

“Nari!” Jimin groans, reluctantly pulling away from you to pick up his messy daughter and running her to the kitchen sink. Giggling to yourself, you unhinge the feeding table from the chair and followed the two into the kitchen.

“Baby, you’re a mess!” Jimin says while cleaning her face, “Mommy just woke up and you wanna cause her all this trouble already?” Nari thrashes in his arms giggling and screaming as if it were a game, “Nari, come on baby, I’m just trying to clean you! Daddy’s not tickling you!”

You continued to watch Jimin struggle from the entryway, trying to contain your giggles.

There are many moments that filled your heart with joy whenever you see Jimin interacting with your daughter, but this one—where he’s bent over the sink gathering water in his hands, and Nari attached to his waist while she tries to wiggle away from him—is easily your favorite sight to see.

“You’re as ticklish as your mother.” Jimin groans as he attempts to calm down the squeamish baby. You finally walked forward to rest your hand on your husband’s back.

“I’ll take her,” You whispered taking your, now clean, baby into your arms. You and Jimin switch, him taking the table, and you taking your child. Pressing an abundant amount of kisses to her face, Nari continues to giggle, while pressing her own mouth against your cheek in a slobbery kiss. Cooing at her you snuggle her into you.

You made your way into the living room, sitting on the floor and plopping Nari beside you. Immediately Nari crawls over to the couch behind you and lifts herself up in a standing position. Happy with herself, Nari looks back at you with a smug grin.

“Look at you go, sweet pea!” You cheered, “Jimin! Look!”

Walking in with the table in his hands, Jimin looks at you on the floor of the living room. He clicks the table back onto the highchair and walks around the couch, only to be greeted with a smug looking baby who was standing.

“Did she do that?” He questions his eyes wide. Nodding, you wrapped your hands around Nari and pulled her to sit with you again.

“Okay Nari, show daddy!”

Nari crawled over to the couch and grasped the cushions. With a determined face, Nari grips the couch tightly between her little fingers, and heaved herself up to her standing position.

“Good job, baby!” Jimin applauded, clapping his hands, exciting Nari, she turns around and begins to take mini steps towards you two.

Eyes blown out wide, you and Jimin both have your arms out.

“Oh, baby!” You cooed, “Keep going! There you go!” Nari begins to stumble forward but holding herself up. Her eyebrow furrows, a determined look appearing on her face yet again.

“Look at you!” Jimin praises watching his child taking her first steps. Nari continues to walk slowly, tripping over her own feet sometimes, trying to make her way to her parents. Once Nari steadied herself, she continued making her way to you both. Breaking into a grin as she neared, she begins to speed up, and throws herself into your waiting arms.

Cuddling her close you pressed kisses all over her face, “You did it!!!”

Jimin, presses his lips against her head, mumbling little praises, while wrapping his arm around you.

“I love you.” You hear him whisper, “I love you both so much.”

Smiling warmly at Nari and then looking up at Jimin, you kissed his lips gently, “We love you more.”

After the Applause (Ch. 4)

Header and linebreaks by @awrkives

Single Dad Jimin x Female OC

SUMMARY: Jimin doesn't know how he would have made it this far after the shattering of his world without the support of his thoughtful, generous, helpful neighbor. Hanbyul has lived next to hottie Jimin and his adorable daughter for years now, long enough to remember the wife he was so devoted to and lost far too young. With each safely ensconced on their side of the brick wall of the Parks' grief, it will take an enterprising little scientist to set the stage for a second chance at love.

CW: grief, prior loss of spouse/parent, comfort, explicit sex, secondhand embarrassment

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Hanbyul sulked on the foot of her bed, feet underneath her pillow and a blanket cocooned around her body as she clicked through suggestions on her dating app. She narrowed her eyes unhappily at each of the three profiles the app recommended for her today. She didn’t like any of them. Well, she might have liked them at another time, she wasn’t really giving them a fair shake, but right now she had really just hoped that looking through them would cause Namjoon’s ears to burn and he’d finally respond to her last message.

Well actually, her last four messages…

She groaned and buried her face in the crook of her arm. Her sister had already poured salt on her wound of humiliation at having sent Namjoon four messages without any response. It was mortifying. She felt like an idiot, only overshadowed by the misery of oh my god he’s ghosting me he’s done with me. Their last date, date number three, had gone really well, she thought! But that was a week ago and there’d been no response since. 

Holding her phone had the added benefit of ensuring she would see the second he messaged if he did. Not that she was hoping he would, obviously! This was the 21st century and a girl did not let a guy just disappear on her and then forgive it when he suddenly messaged her again! Unless there was a good reason. Maybe he had a good reason. Maybe he was in the hospital, or his mom was, and then she would totally forgive him. She was a very understanding person!

But what if he was playing hard to get? She hated that it might be working, even if she didn’t want to admit it. She’d liked him on their dates but would not have expected to feel his silence so loudly until confronted with it. Was this what they meant about absence making the heart grow fonder? Was the injustice of him ignoring her actually making her feel more strongly about their connection, one he could so easily and carelessly sever?

In the meantime as she did-but-didn’t wait for him to message her back, Hanbyul perused the dating apps again in an effort to reassure herself that even if Namjoon was tired of her, there were more frogs in the pond. She preferred that phrasing to there are more fish in the sea since, like her neighbor, she had an aversion to seafood. 

It wasn’t weird to know that about your neighbor, right? She cooked for them sometimes! Not that she went out of her way to cater to his preferences but if she just happened to be making something she thought he’d like, she would share it, and it was convenient that their opinions on seafood aligned. 

She sighed at her own lack of interest in the app’s recommendations and decided to plunge into a free-browse. The concept of finding someone to date based on a few photos and answers to mundane questions seemed impossible, but she supposed that’s how it always started. If you really got to know people first, that would limit her dating pool to…

Well, to a very small rain puddle.

Speaking of very small worlds, her eyebrows raised in surprise when a person familiar in name only showed at the top of her browsing when sorting by distance: Jeon Jungkook. 

Curiosity got the better of her and she opened his profile. Just to put a face to the name! Now she recognized him as a person she had seen entering or leaving the building opposite her a few times. His photos were mostly selfies, either at the gym or with dogs, except for one of him with Taehyung, Jimin, and another man who seemed vaguely familiar.  

She’d just started to read his profile –out of curiosity, nothing else!-- when a new message alert popped onto her screen.

[Jeon Jungkook]: hey

[Jeon Jungkook]: neighbor Ko Hanbyul!

Hanbyul let out a startled gasp and dropped her phone and looked around, expecting he could somehow see her right now. Did the app know when you were on someone’s profile page?! She’d certainly never gotten any alerts that someone was checking her out. Oh god did that mean no one ever checked her out?!

[Ko Hanbyul]: Hello family friend Jeon Jungkook

[Jeon Jungkook]: youve heard of me 😎 

[Jeon Jungkook]: how are you doing this cold night? Winter or spring right now what is it

Hanbyul sat up and leaned against the wall. It felt weird to be talking to Jimin’s friend. Very weird. And he seemed so immediately comfortable with her, which she didn’t understand considering they’d never even met in person. He must be a naturally charming person. She envied that about him. Were all of Jimin’s friends charming just like he was? God, she really could never belong there. Would Jimin think she was trying to force her way in if he knew she was talking to Jungkook?! 

But they were just talking! It wasn’t like they were going on a date. She wasn’t going to go on a date with one of Jimin’s closest friends! It felt rude not to answer him though when he was being friendly, and he was a friend of a friend. Friend of a neighbor.

[Ko Hanbyul]: it’s early spring and I like the cold. You?

[Jeon Jungkook]: yeah I like winter best but I dont think this is spring there are more than four seasons

[Jeon Jungkook]: our schools lie to make it easy to learn but dont you think there are more seasons in a year? 

Hanbyul’s mouth twisted into a grin. Ok, he was an interesting guy. 

[Ko Hanbyul]: what are the other seasons?

[Jeon Jungkook]: hm

[Jeon Jungkook]: rainy season, allergy season, mosquito season, sweatshirt season, the busy season

[Ko Hanbyul]: busy season for what?

[Jeon Jungkook]: everyone has a busy season everyone always says that

[Jeon Jungkook]: right? Its our busy season. 

[Jeon Jungkook]: unless your Jiminie

[Jeon Jungkook]: then busy season is every month before a show right? Kekeke

The mention of Jimin flustered Hanbyul, gave her that twinge like she was betraying Jimin somehow because probably Jungkook was flirting with her. That’s why he’d messaged, right? Was she flirting back? She genuinely didn’t know. He was awfully handsome, maybe it was too much to think he was flirting with her.

But at the same time, Jimin wasn’t interested in her at all, so what was she being faithful to? A crush? And anyway, it was just a conversation!

[Ko Hanbyul]: when is your busy season?

There, impeccable flirting. Smooth as dirt.

[Jeon Jungkook]: nah not me i do screenprinting i work for a clothing company so its always busy

[Ko Hanbyul]: oh! That’s interesting!

[Jeon Jungkook]: its not but ok kekeke thanks 😉

[Jeon Jungkook]: do you have a favorite t shirt? 

It was such an off-the-wall question, though she supposed relevant to his career. Conversation with him flowed easily like that, bouncing from one topic to another. Sometimes he’d go quiet for a bit but then he’d be back with some other new topic just as Hanbyul started to set the phone down. Almost an hour passed in this way before he surprised her further.

[Jeon Jungkook]: yeah, you seem cool

[Ko Hanbyul]: Thank you, you too! Jimin was right to say that about you

The second she sent it, she cringed. Referring to Jimin so familiarly! And after talking to his friend on a dating app for an hour! It was a faux pas in every direction and all she could do was cover her face as Jungkook responded.

[Jeon Jungkook]: he said good things about me huh? Tell me every single one

But Hanbyu was cringing too hard, and worried now that this might be leading to Jungkook asking her out. Did she want to go on a date with Jungkook?! Ah, maybe he was only being polite because she was the neighbor of his friend but their conversation had seemed pretty flirty! He was charming and handsome. He wasn’t Jimin, but Jimin didn’t want her and Namjoon didn’t want her so maybe…. But what if she just was always longing for Jimin? That would be a terrible thing to do to Jungkook!

[Ko Hanbyul]: Sounds like you and Park Jimin need a heart to heart

[Jeon Jungkook]: after this convo i think your right

What did that mean?! Hanbyul tried to think of something to say back, but Hudu was at the front door, jingling the bells that he wanted to go out. 

“Use the potty mat!” she called, but Hudu hated the potty mat and honestly she hated it too. Plus she could use some air. There was nothing for it but to slip her phone in her pocket, bundle her and the pup up, and head out.

They weren’t alone in the hall though. At almost the same time she opened her door, the Park door opened down the hall, and out stepped the very man she was messaging, Sun-young bundled up beside him.

For a moment they just froze and looked at each other with surprise, until Sun-young shouted a greeting and Hudu started to do a dance that had Hanbyul worried he was going to pee in the hallway with excitement at seeing Sun-young.

“I’m taking my dog out,” she explained, no other greeting preceding it as she started quickly down the hall.

Jungkook snickered and motioned, “Yeah, me too. I mean, my niece.”

“What? I’m not a dog! And I don’t need to pee outside,” Sun-young said with a dramatic eyeroll. “Hi, unnie. We’re going to get churros.”

“Oooh.”

She pushed the elevator button and bit back the endeared smile. Churros. That was pretty cute.

“So you’re…” She stopped herself before saying babysitting, knowing Sun-young would hate that.

“Yeah, uh, I’m hanging out with Sunbun tonight.”

“We’re watching Sailor Moon from the very beginning,” Sun-young told her. “Do you like that show? Did you have it when you were a little girl or are you too old?”

“Hey! I’m not that old,” Hanbyul cried and playfully scowled at her. 

“I know, you’re younger than Appa.”

“She’s my age,” Jungkook answered and for a moment Hanbyul forgot it said her birth year on her profile. She hadn’t remembered his year, although she did remember he was born in September. “So, did you watch Sailor Moon growing up?”

“Yes…” Hanbyul answered. They all stepped into the open elevator together and Hudu sniffed around Jungkook’s feet as Sun-young stooped to scratch his head.

Jungkook grinned and demanded, “Why are you answering like it’s a trap?”

“Oh, I didn’t admit it before, but one of my favorite t-shirts when I was younger was a Sailor Moon shirt, actually.” It was the truth, but it made him laugh so hard she thought he must not believe her. She laughed too because he had a very infectious laugh.  

“Do you still have it?”

“It would be too small now!”

“Eh, small shirts can look good,” he shrugged. She didn’t miss the way he cocked his head or pressed his tongue between his lips. Did he mean in general, or on her specifically?! That had to be flirting…

Sun-young suddenly stood up in between them, her eyes narrowed and sliding back and forth from Hanbyul to Jungkook in such a suspicious way that Hanbyul took a step closer to the wall. She felt caught, like she’d truly been doing something wrong and now Sun-young was witnessing it. She braced herself for whatever was going to come out of the girl’s mouth as she put her hands on her hips.

“Hey. Do you know each other? I thought you said you didn’t know who Uncle Tae and Uncle Jungkook are…”

“Yeah, we know each other,” Jungkook answered first, in a way that sounded so much guiltier. The way he said it sounded like it meant way more than we just started talking on a dating app an hour ago. Oh god and they’d been talking the whole hour… but it was just friendly! Platonic! Right?!

Sun-young turned to Jungkook and demanded, “Aren’t you dating that lady at the cafe?!”

The elevator doors opened and Hanbyul leapt out, but Hudu suddenly wanted to take his time and stick by Sun-young’s side. Even pulled on the leash to stay put!

Jungkook’s laugh echoed around the apartment lobby as he insisted, “What do you know about that? I’m not dating her. I mean, I went on a date with her but… ah, you’ll understand when you’re older.”

“You never say that to me,” Sun-young frowned.

“Sorry but this one time I’m going to say it. I don’t have to tell you every woman I talk to or date!”

“But now you’re dating…” Sun-young turned her narrowed eyes towards Hanbyul, whose face could not have felt more on fire. This was as bad as when Sun-young asked her why she didn’t just date Jimin. No, worse, because there was a witness to the mortification!  

“A man and a woman can talk,” Jungkook insisted. “It doesn’t mean they’re dating.”

“And they can date… but it doesn’t mean they’re dating either?” Sun-young tried to puzzle out. 

“No no, there’s a difference between talking and going on a date and dating and… hey, why don’t you talk to your dad about this kind of thing?”

“About if you’re dating unnie?”

“Aish,” Jungkook hissed through his teeth and gave Hanbyul a charming, amused grin. “You run, I’m going to distract her with churros. Can’t ask questions if your mouth is full of churro!”

Hanbyul desperately wanted to know what was going to be explained here but also desperately didn’t want any part of it. They were just talking! It felt like a betrayal of Jimin and yet what was there to betray? Jimin didn’t want her! Besides, Jungkook had just said they were just talking…. But he’d said it to a nine-year-old, maybe he was just being vague… Or maybe he didn’t want to date, there were other things a man and woman could do. Like talking sure, or… Jungkook was a handsome man! No Jimin, but then, who was? Maybe he wasn’t the sort to date, just to sleep around. Hanbyul had never really done the sleeping around thing but she could really use some sex. Sex would be a positive addition to her life. She couldn’t find her vibrator lately; maybe it was under the bed but she was scared to look and hadn’t bought a new one yet…

Sun-young’s little face turned up and Hanbyul just barely heard her say, “I don’t think you should talk to Unnie so much.”

Oh geez, what was Jungkook going to say to that?! But Hudu chose that moment to give in to her tug towards the door; he took off as if he suddenly remembered his bladder, and she sure didn’t want to clean up a puddle in the lobby, so off they ran. And so she would never know what else Jungkook said.

She was too embarrassed to say anything to Jungkook on the messenger app for the rest of the night. Embarrassed and unsure what to say if Jungkook did ask her out on a date or invite her over for sex. Although she did check later that night, just to make sure he hadn’t messaged her either…

Wha, what was she thinking?! Men did not just invite Hanbyul over for sex! Definitely not men like Jungkook, or Jimin, or Taehyung for that matter… Or Namjoon…

“Hudu, we’re going to die alone together, I hope that’s ok with you,” she sighed, and decided to take the long way around the park. 

The seats were pretty high up but the best he’d been able to afford. Still more than he had planned to spend right now, nowhere close to Sunnie’s birthday, but when he’d heard from Hoseok, who’d heard from this dancer who knew that dancer who was one of the principals, that Mango Crush was about to announce an unexpected concert for reasons Jimin didn’t remember or care about, he’d already decided to by the tickets before Sun-young even came running from school screaming about it. He’d been prepared for her cries of disbelief when he’d agreed that yes, they could go. He’d been prepared for her surprise when he rattled off the exact time they would go on sale that night and showed her his alarm so he wouldn’t miss it.

He had not been prepared for her to beg, “Can Hanbyul-unnie go with us? Please?!”

He’d tried to keep his face neutral at the instant hurt. Of course his daughter would rather go see a girl-group with a female friend. Hanbyul was a fan, she knew the lyrics and everything. Part of loving his daughter was letting her grow and replace him and he wasn’t going to cry about it until he was alone in his room later maybe.

“Oh, you’d rather go with Hanbyul?” he’d asked carefully to give himself a moment to think.

“Yes, all three of us!”

He’d been so relieved that Sun-young still wanted him along that he’d bought three tickets without further argument, without even talking to Hanbyul about it first. Then he’d worried about how awkward it would be to ask his neighbor if she’d like to go to a kpop concert with him and his daughter, but Sun-young had run ahead and by the time he’d joined them at Hanbyul’s door, she’d already graciously accepted the invitation. She begged Jimin to let him pay for her own ticket, which he had refused, because for a moment he felt so cool in front of his daughter.

“I know the seats aren’t very good,” Jimin apologized to Hanbyul over Sun-young’s head as she searched for the power button on the flashy Mango stick. Hanbyul had brought one for each of them

Hanbyul actually laughed, “They’re fine! Haven’t you been to a concert recently? The music reaches you anywhere and we can see the stage straight ahead. You did great!”

Jimin flushed at the unexpected praise, then chalked her kind words up to excitement. He had half expected Hanbyul only came along to be a good sport for Sun-young, which in and of itself would have meant so much to him. But she leaned in close to show Sun-young where the switch was, and turned her own on, and the two of them shouted and cheered as they waved them in the air along with everyone else. But he didn’t think either that she’d only come for personal enjoyment of the concert, either, because every step of the way so far, her attention had been focused so joyfully and sincerely on Sun-young. It was like she really wanted to be here with them. It made JImin feel really good about all this.  

“It’s my first concert ever!” Sun-young squealed.

“What?! Then I’m even more glad I brought the Mango Sticks!” Hanbyul cheered. “I’ll buy you a t-shirt too, ok? I still have the t-shirt from my first concert! I was about your age too. My friend’s mom took us.”

“Who was it?” Jimin immediately demanded. He knew so little about Hanbyul’s childhood, or her private life, or really anything at all. What kind of girl had she been? He found himself wanting to know.

“Baby V.O.X.”

“Ah, I know them!”

“Personally?!”

“No no, I know of them, I remember them,” he admitted. “I thought you would name some super secret cool band I’ve never heard of, but they were popular.”

Hanbyul gave him an indecipherable look and laughed, “Do I seem like I’m into anything secret and cool? I like popular things just like anyone else.”

“Well I don’t know many famous people,” he shared his own confession.

“I think of you as knowing everyone.”

“No no, why would I know famous people?” He thought it was ridiculous. Yes, he knew some famous dancers, but Hanbyul wouldn’t know who any of those people were. “Well, I’ve done choreography for some idol groups but not the big ones, they tend to have their own choreographers.”

“That’s really cool though! We should go to a concert for one of those groups,” she suggested, eyes sparkling.

“I don’t know them well enough to get tickets!”

“It’s ok, I’ll buy the tickets next time.”

“Yay, more concerts!” Sun-young cheered, then grabbed Jimin’s arm as the lights flickered. “IT’S STARTING!”

Jimin took her hand and she didn’t even pull it away, just raised his hand and her Mango Stick in the other to join the shouts as Mango Crush took the stage.

“Can you name them yet?” Hanbyul asked, leaning close and repeating it when Jimin couldn’t hear. She had to get close to his ear, her warm breath tickling the side of his neck.

“Yes,” he scoffed and rattled them off because obviously he had done some quick studying so he wouldn’t sound like a total idiot to Sun-young. Hanbyul stared at his lips, as if really closely testing his accuracy.

“Now which is which?” she shouted, gesturing towards the stage where little ants in sparkly costumes danced around. The massive screens behind the stage showed them closer and it was Eujin… or maybe Hana… Adda? No, that one was Violet…

Ok, they weren’t that far away, the venue wasn’t that big for such a quickly pulled together concert. He could easily see all nine of them. But still. Their hair colors were all different than the pictures he’d seen so he was toast.

“Shit, she changed her hair,” he said, overly loud, and Hanbyul laughed. It was the music that made Jimin smile so big. Live music was infectious! Even if you were a little tired of the songs because you’d been listening to them nonstop for the past week to try and learn the lyrics before the concert with your daughter.

Hanbyul’s attention shifted to Sun-young as Jimin’s daughter dropped his hand to take hers, and they sang the words together, loud and adorably off-key but swallowed in the mass of voices around the venue. He couldn't remember the lyrics at all in the moment.

It was the third song before they performed one Jimin knew well enough to shout along to. Sun-young’s eyes got so big and she laughed with her whole body and grabbed his hand again and waved her Mango Stick thing and Jimin knew every minute of listening to their music and every won spent on the tickets had been worth it. 

He shared a smile with Hanbyul over Sun-young’s head, and then Hanbyul covered her face shyly. He worried she thought he was laughing at how much she enjoyed the concert but no, it made him very happy that she did! He didn’t see how to explain that in a shout over the noise though so he just turned back to the music and only watched her out of the corner of his eye as she and Sun-young sang their hearts out.

We’ve only got one life  So let’s live it loud  Take up the space we were meant for Hands up, sing it proud: This world is ours!

*********

The show ended later than Jimin had expected, but Sun-young complained about being hungry on the way home so they stopped at Yoongi’s noodle place because it was open, close to home, and cheap. He insisted on paying for Hanbyul’s noodles too, after she had insisted on buying so much merch for Sun-young. All the rules were out the window tonight, so he might as well let Sun-young sit up until midnight to eat noodles in her Mango Crush shirt with her Mango Crush headband.

The shop was mostly empty this time fo night, so once their food was ready, Yoongi came to visit. Sun-young was so excited telling him about the show that her noodles got cold; no matter how many times Jimin encouraged her to eat, she could barely get a bite in before she needed to tell Yoongi something, or ask Hanbyul if she remembered this, or insist Jimin tell him her favorite outfit or whatever. 

Only after she finally stopped to catch her breath did Yoongi say, “Nice to meet you, by the way. I think you’re Ko Hanbyul?”

With a gasp, Jimin realized he’d missed the introduction and apologized, “Yes, yes, Ko Hanbyul, and this is my friend Min Yoongi. I forgot you haven’t met my friends.”

“I’m meeting them more lately, it seems,” she said, which felt cryptic somehow. Did she just mean because she’d spent that afternoon over with Taehyung and now met Yoongi? That didn’t seem remarkable… “It’s nice to meet you,” she continued on. “And great to meet the owner of this place, I get noodles here all the time.”

“Thank you for keeping us in business.”

Yoongi seemed to be pointedly ignoring Jimin’s look because why had Yoongi said her name first?! Why hadn’t he just asked who she was? He realized now it would make it seem like he had talked about her, which he had but not in a nefarious way!

“Yoongi and I go way back,” Jimin explained to keep Hanbyul from feeling uncomfortable. “I helped him meet his wife! She’s an incredibly talented ballet dancer–”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“I hosted the party where you met.”

“So when you come here on a date, I’ll take the credit?”

Jimin flinched. It wasn’t all right to make that kind of a joke in front of Sun-young –or Hanbyul for that matter!

Trying to salvage it, he insisted, “Why would I bring someone here on a date? You think I can’t take someone somewhere nicer?”

“Well now you’re just insulting me,” Yoongi laughed. “What’s wrong with here for a date?”

“I think it’s nice here,” Hanbyul readily agreed. And now Jimin felt like an asshole.

“I just meant for a first date, you take someone to a really nice place! This is where I bring someone when– no, why are we talking about this?” he broke off, realizing this was a completely inappropriate conversation to have in front of his daughter. He broke out into a cold sweat and insisted, “I’m not dating anyone, Sunnie, don’t worry.”

“We already knew unnie before we brought her here,” Sun-young informed Yoongi. 

“Oh, is this a date?” Yoongi asked, with a particular sparkle lighting up in his eyes that made Jimin want to strangle him in cold blood.

“No,” “No,” Jimin and Hanbyul said at the same time Sun-young said, “Yes.”

“What do you think a date is?” Jimin asked, realizing there must be a misunderstanding here. 

“I know what a date is,” she smiled and instead of saying anything further, asked, “Appa, what was your first concert?”

Yoongi snickered at the way Jimin flustered and reeled, trying to catch up, not sure what to correct or explain. He glanced at Hanbyul in the hopes she would say something elegant but she just shoved a mouthful of noodles in, and then caught his eye and it was obvious she didn’t want to answer. He wasn’t sure which of them started laughing first but when she choked on her noodles he reached out to pound on her back.

“I’ll leave you to it. Mochi is on me when you’re done,” Yoongi offered and disappeared like a disruptive shadow.

Sunnie was waiting for an answer though, like she couldn’t even hear her dad and neighbor laughing, and repeated, “Who was your first concert, Appa? How old were you?”

“Uh… ok, you’re all right now? Hm, I think it was Super Junior. I was older… fifteen? Sixteen? I saw dance troops before that but I think that was my first concert.”

“Oh! Is that why the blonde hair?” Hanbyul asked. Then grimaced and explained, “I mean… they had blonde hair, didn’t they?”

“Are you asking if I dye my hair to look like a member of a k-pop group I saw twenty years ago?”

“Um…” Hanbyul’s eyes look very wide.

“No!” he laughed. “This is my natural color!”

“He’s lying! He dyes it every six weeks but he won’t let me dye my hair,” Sun-young tattled, as if Hanbyul might not know he was in fact not a natural blonde. 

“Your hair is perfect, I don’t want you to bake it.”

“What color do you want it to be?” Hanbyul asked her.

“Hm… white.”

“White!” Jimin repeated.

“Oh, that’s cool.”

“Not all white. Some black and some white.”

“Like a zebra?” Jimin screwed his face up.

“It’s cool, Appa.”

“I’m out of style on what’s cool,” he confessed to Hanbyul. As soon as he said it, he knew it would annoy Sun-young. “I just decide what I want to do for my style and do it.”

“That’s cool too,” Hanbyul assured him. 

Sun-young beamed, “When I get older I’ll dye my hair, ok?”

“Ok, maybe,” he conceded. “I just don’t want you to burn it and then it all falls out.”

“Your hair isn’t falling out.”

“Eh…” he grimaced.

“I think it’s ok if we’re bald together,” Sun-young decided. “If we at least had fun getting there.” Jimin’s heart thumped and he didn’t know what to say. Was he a sap that hearing his daughter say that melted him into silence in an instant?

“That’s quite profound,” Hanbyul said with a warm smile that made him feel like she understood too. She didn’t think he was a sap for being affected by that.

“What does profound mean?”

“Very wise. But if you want white stripes, maybe you can do tie-ins first and it won’t damage your hair?”

Sun-young grinned, “I think you are very profound too, unnie. Right, Appa?”

“Sure, sure. Except when she’s accusing me of trying to look like an idol from twenty years ago…”

“Is that bad?” Hanbyul asked and looked sincerely concerned.

He tried to look upset but couldn’t maintain it for long and admitted, “No, actually I think it’s flattering… but I don’t think I can admit my style is twenty years out of date!”

“No, you have a really good style! Contemporary!”

“It’s ok,” Sun-young conceded. Jimin couldn’t thank her, he laughed so hard at her slight compliment. She must have meant it to be funny though because she giggled too, and Hanbyul laughed and–

And it was just very easy. It was just a very easy, good night, one of the best ones Jimin could remember having in a fucking long time. He didn’t know what to do with that, how much joy he felt just sitting in a noodle shop late at night with his daughter and his neighbor. Was it just post-concert fumes? But he thought it was more than that, and he didn’t know how to hold onto that feeling, but he wanted to.

The feel-good glow of the concert lasted less than a week. Tuesday Sun-young complained of a headache to get out of solo practice with Hoseok but then didn’t have too much of a headache to sneak the house phone into her room to call Ginam. Wednesday Sun-young had a poor attitude at her ballet class; Jimin could see it in the way Young-geul carefully chose her words in describing Sunnie’s progress in the ensemble choreography for the recital. Jimin expected she’d perk up for hip hop rehearsal on Thursday, seeing as she’d begged so hard for that class in the first place.

Instead he had to go into the school again to fetch her when she didn’t come out. At least she wasn’t off in a hidden science room melting lab tables or anything; he found her walking at an actual glacier’s pace through the school hallway. As slowly and meticulously placing one foot in front of the other as if this were a choreographed routine –except it wasn’t. She had a class to get to!

“What are you doing!?” he cried. “Let’s go!”

“I am going.”

“Like a snail,” he scolded and reached for her arm. She pulled away and gave him a scathing glare. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s your hiphop class!”

“I know.”

“So let’s go, we don’t want to be late.”

“I do…” she mumbled.

“Park Sun-young. To disrespect your teacher and the other dancers in the class– you wouldn’t do that. What’s gotten into you this week? Didn’t we have a fun weekend?”

“Yes,” she pouted. “But it doesn’t mean I want to go to dance class. I’d rather…”

“Rather what?” he asked when she just trailed off. Not that it mattered. He got behind her and nudged her along and she at least took slightly bigger, quicker steps. Not that her answer mattered. Yeah, sometimes he felt like doing something besides dancing too, but discipline was an important lesson! “You become a better dancer by putting in the effort even on days you don’t feel like it,” he said, pretty sure a teacher had said that to him when he was younger as well. Although not at her age. He wished he had been dancing at her age, but he hadn’t gathered the money, freetime, and bravery needed to give dance a try until middle school, and then a day in which he didn’t want to dance was rare. He knew what a blessing it was to be excused from the family rice cake shop to go dance. 

“I’d rather be sleeping I guess,” she grumbled. “I’m tired. I don’t feel good. I can walk home by myself and you can go to your class.”

“Absolutely not.”

“But Appa…”

He pressed his hand to her perfectly normal looking and feeling face, then the back of her neck, then reached for her wrist to feel her pulse. Not that he could really read a pulse, but it succeeded in calling her bluff.

“Appa, stoooop.”

“You’re fine. Now let’s go.”

“I can walk home with Boyeon–”

“Everyone’s already gone! The school is empty and we’re going to be late!”

“No, Boyeon is still in the science lab, I can go–”

Science. Science.

“Walk. Now.” Jimin’s voice had an edge to it, one which Sun-young rarely heard and took seriously when she did. Her head drooped but she moved her feet finally and the two of them hauled ass through the city to get to the dance studio. 

As they got closer to the studio though, Sun-young began to bounce and shuffle, clearly nervous.

“What is it now, Sunnie?” he sighed, at least trying to sound gentler. “Do you need to go potty?”

“Appa! I’m nine, I don’t say potty. And no!”

“Then what’s the problem?” he asked. He held the door for her to slide past him into the building, but there she stopped even though her class was up on the next floor.

“I… I forgot my dance stuff.”

“You’re holding your dance bag,” he said, eyes narrowed suspiciously. His tongue poked the inside of his cheek to keep himself from snapping out anything else; he was baffled why she would lie about something so obviously untrue.

She nodded and didn’t meet his eyes, “I know but um… it’s my ballet stuff. I forgot my hiphop clothes.”

“Well you can just dance in…” But she wore her school uniform and slightly heeled loafers, not at all appropriate for a hiphop dance class. Besides, he didn’t believe her, her dance bag was right there on her shoulder and he’d never heard of her separating out her gear before. “What are you talking about? Your dance bag– oof, why is it so heavy?” he demanded as he slipped it off her shoulder. 

“It’s nothing– Appa, don’t! Appa!”

He ignored her protest and grabby hands as he let the bag thunk to the ground and crouched to unzip. 

Her smaller ballet bag was in there, sure enough, shoes and all, but instead of her dance shoes and gym clothes for hiphop class, five books took up the space instead. He only saw titles for two (Astrophysics for Young People in a Hurry by Neil Degrasse Tyson and a book about tornadoes eloquently titled TORNADOS!) before admitting,

“I’m confused. Why do you have so many books in your dance bag instead of–”

“They were due at the library today and I forgot to turn them in.”

“Well what’s in your backpack then?” he asked. Before guessing, “More books? You forgot to return all these books– then get another bag! Why didn’t you bring your dance stuff? You know you have hiphop today!”

“I know! But I thought– I hoped maybe– I don’t know!” she cried and looked as if she might be on the verge of really crying.

Jimin breathed out through his nose, brain scrambling to figure out what to do. Late library books (and there seemed to be a lot) were going to have fines he didn’t want to pay. Sure it was only a small fine per book, but it was the principle of the matter. Sun-young shouldn’t be late returning books! And she shouldn’t be late to dance class, or showing up without her things! He knew for a fact they didn’t have a spare pair of shoes in her size and he didn’t want her dancing in the studio without shoes; the last thing she needed right now was a broken toenail or bruised ankle. He didn’t understand how she’d made such a mess of something so easy and routine.

“Ok,” he decided. “You go get started with warmups. I’m going to run home and get your dance shoes and bring them here, then I’ll take these books back to the school library for you. I can do all that before my class– Sunnie, why didn’t you just say about the books while we were still in your school?”

“I don’t know… I didn’t want you to know I have them…”

“They’re books, not cocaine.”

“They’re science books, it might as well be the same thing to you!” she defended hotly.

Jimin fought hard not to roll his eyes. She was being ridiculous! Just because he didn’t want her throwing away her dance career at the fresh age of nine didn’t mean she was banned from consuming science! In fact, reading science books was perfect, because she could do that around her dance classes!

“Just go warm up,” he sighed. “Tell them I’ll be back with your stuff as quick as I can.” It would be faster if he took a cab but it was such a waste of money for such a ridiculous mistake.

Sun-young scurried away and Jimin scurried the opposite direction, her backpack and useless dance bag both strapped to him so he could jog. 

He was winded and sweaty by the time he got back to their apartment, and in no mood for the way Sun-young had tossed her shoes and typical dance clothes in the corner, wadded up. This wasn’t how he’d raised her at all! He shoved them into the bag with an angry huff –and only now realized that since he had to go all the way back to the studio to give them to her, he should have just left the books there instead of lugging them all the way home. Fuck! Her scrambled brain was making his brain scrambled too!

He gave himself a minute only to grab a drink from the kitchen and catch his breath. Then, in leaving the apartment, had the idea that maybe he could ask Hanbyul to drop off the books. Fuck, except it was only 4pm and she didn’t get home until after 5. 

And yet in passing her door, he could have sworn he heard voices right beside it. In a moment of weakness, he paused and leaned in close. It wasn’t possible to hear what was being said, but he definitely picked up a low voice, laced through with her softer, lighter one. 

Why was Hanbyul home early, and with a man? Not that it was any of Jimin’s business or anything but… what if she’d gotten sick or something? Or maybe something in her apartment had broken and it was a contractor? That made him nervous; not all contractors could be trusted and it might be obvious that she lived there alone. And if something had broken, she could have mentioned it to him for help; she’d admitted before she hated calling about broken things, but he didn’t mind it at all.

“Focus, Park Jimin,” he muttered to himself as Sunnie’s book bag– no, dance bag!-- dug into his shoulder. It didn’t matter who was in her apartment with her, he couldn’t just run to Hanbyul to help with things that weren’t her problem. He was the dad here, he needed to clean up his daughter’s mess and get to the bottom of all of this. He turned from her door and stretched his calves in the elevator to prepare for the jog back to the studio. At this rate he was going to be danced out before his class even began.

*******

At least Sun-young wasn’t giving him the silent treatment this time, but the forced small talk was awkward. They ate their late dinner in silence and then she went off to do homework while he dealt with bills at the dining room table. Expensive, expensive, everything here was so expensive on only one income. Not for the first time he thought about how much easier some things would be if he took Sun-young to live closer to his parents, or even with his parents. They’d kept him on the right track for his childhood! Clearly he was fucking something up with Sunnie and she wasn’t even a teenager yet!

He waited until she was asleep later that night to call –double checking to make sure she was really asleep and wouldn’t overhear him calling his mom to tell her about things lately. Perhaps against his better judgment, he told her about the forged permission slip, and the forgotten dance clothing, and the books, and the attitude about dance class. But he needed to talk to someone about it, and none of his close friends had raised children or could really understand, even if they meant well. 

She listened to it all with far more of a sense of humor than he cared for. Apparently she found it amusing that Sun-young was giving him a run like this.

“She’s a bright girl,” his Eomma mused, voice full of pride instead of worry or warning. “Stubborn, like her appa.”

“But I was stubborn about the things that were good for me,” he argued. “Once I could dance, I never took it for granted.”

Eomma chuckled, “Yes, yes, stubborn about the thing you cared about. Was it the right thing? It turns out, it was for you, I think. It’s hard to know.”

“But in this case, I do know. Sunnie is talented at dance. She’s worked hard to be good at dance, she loves it there, it’s her home. I mean, she was practically born and raised in that studio!”

“Yes, how brave to take a step away from it, hm?”

Jimin scowled and warned, “It sounds like you are saying I should just let her quit dance. Throw away all her hard work. Do you know how many times people tell me that they wish their parents had made them stick with something because later they have nothing?”

“I’m not telling you to do anything. Do I think she should dance? Yes, of course, she’s a beautiful dancer. Ah, Jimin my son, you are as stubborn as your daughter, do you know?”

“I’m protective, Eomma. I’m trying to do the best for her.”

“Do you know, I wanted you to be a lawyer! Or a doctor. You were smart, so very smart, Class President. Nobody else in our family was class president, did you know that?”

“I did know that,” he mumbled. He also remembered her expressing those wishes for him. His father had expressed them longer than she had though; once he started to dance, she’d given it up, and he’d learned to live with that tickle of fear that he’d disappointed his parents in such a fundamental way that he would never do anything right by them again. For all he knew, that was still true. He lived far away, did not make a lot of money, had a beautiful daughter they didn’t get to see enough, and he’d lost his wife. 

“But you knew dance was the right thing for you, oh you said that to us so many times, with your heart and soul and your sparkling eyes, even though you worked so hard in the shop too. You were so certain and I saw with my own certainty that if we did not bend, our relationship would break.”

“Eomma…”

“Do you know how many women I know whose sons, daughters, they don’t talk anymore? They hate their Eommas and Appas. You said it’s because they let them quit. I say it’s because sometimes they didn’t let them quit, or try something else. How do we tell what the right thing is to do as parents? We’re all trying our best.”

“Yes,” Jimin could at least agree with that.

“You are always so certain about the things you believe in,” Eomma continued. “Your conviction is so strong! You wanted to dance, you wanted to live in Seoul, you wanted to run a studio with your friends. But a daughter is not like those things. You can’t choose much of anything for her, even if sometimes it hurts so deeply, knowing you can’t make everything right for your child. Especially when it hurts them.” Jimin swallowed and leaned away from the emotion in her voice. He knew when she was talking about his loss, and as much as he appreciated that she was sad for him about it, he couldn’t give into grief right now.

Instead he focused on his surprise that she wasn’t backing him up, and pressed, “Aren’t you going to say to me that children should respect their parents? Parents shouldn’t just give in to every whim of their child –that’s always what you and Appa say! You say I spoil her too much with–”

“Bending is not the same as bowing! Bending is difficult for you, Jimin. I understand. Maybe it’s even harder now, since…” She didn’t have to say it. Since Subin died. “As a parent you realize how little you actually control and it makes you want to do more. But parents who do not bend, they will lose their children or make them miserable. Which is worse?”

“So you’re saying I should just let her quit.”

“I don’t say this or that. I’m just saying things, don’t listen to me. Can’t she do both? I don’t know, wouldn’t it be nice to have a doctor or an engineer in the family?”

Jimin managed to suppress his sigh. He loved his eomma dearly and her advice was both helpful and not at the same time, but he appreciated it. There was wisdom behind it, even if he didn’t want her pressing Sun-young to be a doctor anymore than–

Ugh. But what if he was doing the same thing with dance?

But Sun-young had always loved danced! From infancy! She’d always said she wanted to be a dancer, and if she quit now, it might be impossible for her to catch up later in any meaningful way!

Jimin was exhausted from the day, and didn’t find the peace he had hoped for in talking with Eomma. There was nothing more he could do about it today though.

This would all be easier if Subin was here. Subin would be able to understand what Sun-young was going through. Maybe it wasn’t even the science thing! Maybe she had other little girl things going on she didn’t want to talk to her dumb old dad about and there was nothing he could do and even if he let her quit every dance class and just live in a science lab, she’d still hate him. Even going to see Mango Crush hadn’t bought him more than a few days of good will.

He got a beer from the fridge but didn’t feel like drinking it alone. But it was sort of late, and he didn’t feel like getting embroiled in any of the dating drama Taehyung or Jungkook would throw his way, and Yoongi was working, and Hoseok was absolutely asleep, and his acquaintances after that weren’t ones he was going to call to come over for a beer at 10 o’clock. Besides, he didn’t really feel like seeing any of them right now, he wanted to just be alone. But not alone with himself.

Briefly he thought about Hanbyul. Maybe more than briefly. Her presence would be welcome. Nothing about her was ever intrusive or abrasive. She always struck just the right balance between listening to him vent and distracting him from pointless thoughts. Fuck, did he vent too much to her? Definitely. He shouldn’t bother her right now.

He went to her door anyway. He knocked and waited. Hudu started barking right away, oops, and then she took an unusually long time to come to the door so that he worried she’d already gone to bed. When she opened it, she had a robe pulled around her body and squinted like she had been asleep, but her makeup was still on.

“Jimin? Is something wrong?”

“Um…” He trailed off when Hudu only looked up at him, then went running off somewhere further into the apartment. And in the distance, a masculine voice said something lowly.

“Nope. Sorry, I was just going to invite you over for a beer but–” It seems you have company?! “--looks like you already went to bed. I’m so sorry for waking you–”

“No, it’s fine. It’s ok. There’s nothing wrong?”

“Nope, absolutely nothing wrong. Just… nothing at all,” he grinned, pouring every ounce of charm he could into distracting her from his own incredibly awkward feelings. Holy shit, Hanbyul had a man in her apartment and they were– obviously they were– was it the same man who had been there six hours ago?!

“Goodnight,” he said and practically ran down the hall. Damn, he was tired of running today.

*******

“Everything all right?” Namjoon asked as Hanbyul returned to the bedroom. She tossed Hudu a dental chew on the way to apologize for banishing him from the bedroom earlier, but there were some things her favorite little pup was not invited for. Not to the fancy dinner Namjoon had taken her to at a place with live music, not to the swank bar afterwards, and definitely not to her own bed, where Namjoon had so suavely removed every item of her clothing for the kind of sex Hanbyul thought was fake.

Wow.

Yeah, it turned out he’d had a good excuse. His mother was in the hospital, doing fine now, but he’d been a little distracted. He was very close with his parents and had gone right to her side.

Charming.

He sat on the edge of her bed now, chest and arms so deliciously bare in the low lights she’d left on, though he’d regrettably pulled his boxers and slacks back on. Hanbyul decided her legs couldn’t hold her much longer and she sat beside him, still a little knobby-kneed from earlier.

“Yes,” she said belatedly. “Everything’s fine, yeah. Just a neighbor asking about– it’s not important.” Talking about Jimin to Namjoon threatened to shake loose the careful coolness she’d managed to maintain throughout this unbelievable evening. She’d done such a good job of staying focused on this man and she didn’t want to ruin it now, just because seeing JImin at her door had first terrified her that something was wrong with Sun-young, and then terrified her that he would be able to tell she’d just had sex. Which felt like something he shouldn’t know. Even though it shouldn’t matter because it’s not like they were a couple or anything! But it felt unfaithful, after that fun time with the concert last weekend… but it wasn’t unfaithful! That was just a fun social event with her neighbor and his daughter. She was not dating Jimin, even if she wished she was. Oh god, but that was unfaithful to Namjoon!

Namjoon let out a deep, satisfied-sounding sigh and leaned in to kiss her before admitting, “I should get going. Early morning tomorrow.”

“Me too.”

“Thanks for inviting me in. I had a great time today.”

“Me too.”

She walked him to the door where he kissed her again and she had that feeling of disbelief that this man had wanted four dates with her now, and that she’d found him so quickly. He had to have a flaw, certainly, but she hadn’t found it yet, except maybe his taste in women… OK, that was too mean to herself. But she focused on the kiss, and enjoyed the kiss, then scooped Hudu up so he wouldn’t run out. He wasn’t totally enamored with Namjoon yet, but they didn’t not get along and Namjoon clearly wanted Hudu’s affection, so that wasn’t a dealbreaker.

He opened the door and stepped out then turned to her and laughed, “You know, it’s such a small world. My buddy lives right down the hall from you.”

Hanbyul froze except for the clench of her very sore abdominal muscles.

“Um… what’s your buddy’s name?”

“Park Jimin. Have you met him?”

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After the Applause (Ch. 6)

Header and linebreaks by @awrkives

Single Dad Jimin x Female OC

SUMMARY: Jimin doesn't know how he would have made it this far after the shattering of his world without the support of his thoughtful, generous, helpful neighbor. Hanbyul has lived next to hottie Jimin and his adorable daughter for years now, long enough to remember the wife he was so devoted to and lost far too young. With each safely ensconced on their side of the brick wall of the Parks' grief, it will take an enterprising little scientist to set the stage for a second chance at love.

CW/tags: grief, prior loss of spouse/parent, comfort, explicit sex, secondhand embarrassment, sort of love triangle/web/rat's nest, fluff, cursing, dating apps, fuckboy friends, dancer Jimin, stubborn dad Jimin, stubborn pre-teen daughter, miscommunication, pining

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Hanbyul stared at the website confirmation page and felt certain she’d fucked something up. She hated this feeling, like she’d done something wrong. She’d probably attached the wrong thing, or missed some egregious typo, or maybe she sounded annoying in the cover letter. Maybe her headshot wasn’t actually a good likeness.

Thank you for submitting your resume and application. One of our recruiters will be in touch with you shortly.

She belatedly felt stupid to have done this on a Friday afternoon. Now the soonest someone would contact her would be Monday, which gave her at least forty-eight hours to convince herself that applying was the most embarrassing thing she’d ever done and that they were going to laugh at her application and print it out just so they could chuck it in the trash.

Enough of that. She steeled her resolve (to do the thing she had in fact already done) and closed her laptop and crossed her arms in an attempt to look as confident as she wanted to feel. She deserved that job. Some parts were outside of her skillset or experience but most of it was familiar. A man wouldn’t let some pieces hold him back from applying. A man would apply and convince the interviewer why he was still the best candidate for the job, and so that’s exactly what Hanbyul was going to do. 

Because only about 20% of boardrooms in the country consisted of women and while Hanbyul wasn’t applying for a board position, that’s where she was reaching. Someday she was going to get there, and she’d take Sun-young –maybe by then a successful young scientist– out for coffee and say Thank you. Thank you for reminding me that we face extra challenges in the workplace and it’s our responsibility not to hold ourselves back because others will gladly do that for us.

Hanbyul would not be held back! She’d give it her all to get this new position with its better pay and improved benefits. If it didn’t work out, she’d apply for others. She’d call her parents more. She’d clean her apartment this weekend. She’d stop putting Namjoon off and finally have a truthful conversation with him –her responses had been vague and she was certain he could tell. Right now, she could do anything! Even with her trembling hands!

Because a nine-year-old had convinced her she could. Sun-young had inspired her, it was true. Her determination and serious efforts to convince her father that she ought to do science club had shamed Hanbyul into applying because she refused to be a woman who let her childhood confidence fade away. Not that she had ever been as confident as Sun-young, but it wasn’t too late to catch up! She wanted to be the kind of woman Sun-young apparently thought she was.

So she needed to do that other thing, even though she’d been dreading it: she took Hudu on a walk and called Namjoon. 

He picked up on the third ring, a little breathless but cheerful sounding. Not for the first time she wished she could just text him about this but he deserved more than that. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too upset. Hopefully he wasn’t that invested. He couldn’t be, right?

“Hanbyul? Hey, I was just thinking of messaging you–”

“Hi Namjoon. I, um… I’m sorry, I have sort of disappointing, um…”

“Bad news? Are you ok?”

She cursed how sweet he sounded. The confidence after submitting her resume began to drain away. Why was she doing all these exhausting things in the same day? She had foolishly overestimated herself. 

“I’m ok but… I know I haven’t been very responsive lately and I wanted to just be direct because you’re really great and you deserve that.”

“Ah.”

“I’m really sorry but I’m just…”

There was silence on the line. She appreciated that he seemed to understand without her saying much. Or maybe he was just shocked. Stunned. Heartbroken?! Oh god, she’d never broken anyone’s heart before.

“Look if you’re just really busy right now or something, I get it. I know I’m traveling for work a lot too, so…”

“It’s not that. I mean, I am busy, and I just applied for a better job so maybe I’ll get even busier but–”

“Oh congratulations, I hope it goes well–”

“Aish, don’t be so nice,” she complained. “I feel awful, Namjoon. You’re such a great guy and–”

“You don’t have to do that. I mean you don’t have to comfort me. I mean, it sucks, because you’re… but…”

She tugged Hudu to the side of the path so she could stop and squeezed her eyes shut. Why couldn’t he be an asshole about this? She’d feel so much better. She was aware that she was stupid, that this was stupid, that she was ending what could become something good with a great guy for no reason. Or at least not a good reason. 

“I feel like shit.”

“It’s ok.”

“No, don’t you comfort me!”

“Can I just ask… it’s ok if you don’t feel comfortable, but I just…”

She waited, trying to ignore the way her stomach twisted and her face flushed and the blood rushed in her ears. This was awful. She didn’t have much experience calling things off with men and when she did, the guy had usually seen it coming and not cared that much anyway.

“Did I do something? Is there some… feedback you can give me or…”

“You didn’t do anything wrong at all,” she quickly insisted. And then because she felt too miserable and clung to a piece of driftwood she thought might make it better: “You’re such a great guy. To be honest, I kind of have feelings for someone else and I thought I could get over it but I can’t and you deserve better than that.”

For a moment he was silent again. She could hear his breathing; he always seemed to hold the phone so close to his mouth when he spoke. 

“I get it,” he said. “That really sucks. Sorry you’re in that situation, and I hope he figures it out quick.”

“I don’t think he will but… um… thanks. And I’m really sorry, Namjoon.”

“Don’t be sorry. I had fun.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“And uh, give me a call or something if you’re ever not… not feeling things for someone else, I guess.”

“I will,” she blurted out because she couldn’t think quickly enough on her feet. She ended the call before she could say anything else stupid and pressed it to her forehead. Had that gone well or not well? She couldn’t tell. She supposed it could have been worse… but she felt like she shouldn’t have mentioned having feelings for someone else. What if he somehow figured out she meant Jimin?! And it was a cop out anyway because that wasn’t the only reason. She was emotionally compromised, but she didn’t break off with Namjoon for Jimin. Jimin wasn’t an option! She just didn’t see a future right now with anyone who wasn’t… Jimin.

She felt punchy in a different way now. She practically jogged home with Hudu, which she never did and clearly confused him; he kept looking up at her like he expected someone else might be holding the leash. Once home, she dug through her cabinets looking for anything to soothe or distract but her cupboards were practically bare. Why did she have so many ingredients but no food or alcohol?

It was in this state of desperation that she received a message from Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook: hey re hitting up hongdae club aura and youre coming

Hanbyul: ok I’m in

Jeon Jungkook: wait really???

Hanbyul: did you mean to invite someone else? 😅

Jeon Jungkook: you but you never take me up on it!

Hanbyul: I don’t want to sit at home tonight

Jeon Jungkook: ok ouch didn’t need to make an excuse

Jeon Jungkook: whatever, you can’t bring me down, see you at 10

Hanbyul: TEN?! 

Jeon Jungkook: why are all my friends grandpas? 10 is early! Don’t you bail on me too

Hanbyul: I’ll see you at 10 if you can actually get us in…

Jeon Jungkook: you’re cute, you’ll get us in

Hanbyul laughed. Hard. She knew she ought to be giddy for a man who looked like Jungkook to say that kind of thing, but he said that kind of thing all the time in a way that didn’t actually feel very specific anymore. Only after the date was set did she have a rush of terror realizing she had just agreed to go out clubbing with Jungkook… but it was true that she felt jittery and didn’t want to be home this evening. She felt like she could do anything! Even stay awake until 10pm to go clubbing on a Friday night! 

She had a sneaking suspicion she knew exactly which of Jungkook’s friends had insisted ten was too late at night. Though he’d obviously be the hottest one there, she didn’t think Jimin was into the scene –certainly not in the time she’d known him. She had absolutely no concern that Jimin would be at the club. She also felt like this might be a good chance to really establish a platonic friendship with Jungkook and quiet her slight fear that she was leading Jimin’s close friend on. You know, since she’d already slept with and ghosted then dumped another… 

Her dress was short. It was the shortest dress she owned. She didn’t really own revealing clothing, nothing sexy for hitting the clubs, but she’d bought this dress that was a little too small and so that would have to do. She’d just have to remember not to raise her arms or… disaster! 

She kept tugging it down as she made her way inside with no issue –Jungkook had put her “on the list” and texted her to come on in, which seemed really suspicious. He was easy to find, practically spot-lighted under a round table in a distant corner, animated and laughing with another guy and two girls.

She carried herself bravely forward, nerves instantly frazzled by the loud music, pulsing lights, and close bodies she had to weave her way through to reach them.

“Hey you didn’t bail!” Jungkook cheered when she reached his elbow. “My only true friend.”

The use of friend instantly set her at ease, though she wasn’t prepared for the names lobbied instantly at her amidst their shouts of protest at his remark: Jung Hoseok, Park Andi, and Han Chun. Years and connections were shared and she tried to keep up over the noise of the club, answering the questions as formally as a job interview. She had hoped no one noticed how nervous she was to be out with people she didn’t know, but Jungkook seemed to because he insisted on buying her a drink, which she was overwhelmed into agreeing to. Only when he returned with her cucumber something in hand did she realize there were two men and two women and Jungkook had just bought her a drink and maybe calling her his friend was all part of his plan. Even though that seemed absolutely ridiculous when both those women looked–

Oh. Hanbyul realized she had miscounted. 

“I can’t even count!” she groaned and let her face fall against her hand, not even caring that the slump might smudge her makeup or transfer oil to her chin and give her acne. Who cared what a girl who couldn’t even count looked like!

“Who’s counting? You don’t need to count anything right now,” Jungkook laughed. “You want me to do some math for you?”

“He can’t do math,” Hoseok immediately ratted him out. “Don’t ask him to do math, he just picks a number.”

“That’s not true!”

Andi giggled and leaned in close to agree, “He acts like he’s thinking really hard and then confidently gives a very wrong answer.”

“He doesn’t need math, he’s so pretty,” Chun suggested, though Hanbyul couldn’t tell if her smirk at Jungkook was predatory or just teasing. She didn’t know these people, and clearly her day was beginning to take a toll, so she really shouldn’t have come out. 

“Shut up, don’t blow my cover. Hanbyul’s a smarty, don’t make me look stupid,” Jungkook laughed.

Hoseok nodded and agreed, “I’ve heard about it.”

“About… me?” Hanbyul clarified, tilting her head.

“Neighbor Hanbyul,” Hoseok confirmed, which made more sense, even if it made her a little sad to be still Neighbor Hanbyul. “Sunnie talks about you a lot too.”

“Ahhh that girl.” Hanbyul grinned as a warmth blossomed in her chest. That was better, at least. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

Jungkook’s stare and slow grin made her nervous as he nodded, the others confirming. It was quickly made clear they all knew Jimin and Sun-young –Hoseok was a teacher at Jimin’s studio, Hanbyul was quickly educated on, and Chun and Andi both danced with him and Jimin. When asked if she’d ever seen Jimin dance she admitted that she hadn’t and chose not to disclose her YouTube history. There weren’t many videos on there but there were a few! Anyway, they clearly meant seen him dance live, so it wasn’t a total lie.

“We hear a lot about your son, too,” Hoseok added. Hanbyul, mid-sip of her cucumber something, promptly choked. Jungkook seemed to take great glee in pounding her on the back.

“My what?”

“Hudu?”

“He’s a dog!”

“A dog can be a son!” Hoseok laughed with the rest of the table. He smiled with his whole face and it reminded her so much of Jimin she could almost believe they were related.

“Honestly a dog is the best son,” Andi insisted. “Like, I love Sunnie with my whole heart, but I don’t want kids of my own. I’ve got a cat and I want a dog too but I don’t think I’m tough enough to walk one in the winter.”

“You’re not tough enough,” Jungkook agreed; Andi dipped her fingers into her glass and flicked the droplets his direction.

“I would die for my dog,” Chun announced. “I can never have kids while he’s alive, it wouldn’t be fair to him.”

Hoseok sighed and admitted, “My dog still lives with my parents.”

“It’s their dog,” Jungkook snorted.

“It was my dog but I couldn’t have him with me at university housing when I was younger, and they were all so attached by the time I moved out on my own so– but we could get a dog,” he said, pouting his lips in Jungkook’s direction as if it all came down to his choice.

“I want a dog,” Jungkook agreed.

“Well fuck, let’s get a dog! Woah, but is it a betrayal of Mickey, that’s what I’m worried about…” Hoseok sighed and slumped.

Hanbyul murmured sympathetically and sipped her drink faster. She did not understand what was happening. On the surface she appeared to have joined a group of very fun, down to earth people who just happened to look insanely gorgeous and not of this world in shiny button-up shirts and sequined dresses. It was a complete injustice for these people to be both fun and look like that, and Hanbyul the boring dowager in her plain dress. 

Yet at the same time it made perfect sense because these were Jimin’s friends, and he was like that too! Hanbyul felt utterly stupid for having agreed to come out and yet simultaneously, selfishly fascinated. She felt like Jungkook had opened a door for her that Jimin had not, letting her see this adult social aspect of Jimin’s life –arguably without his permission. Not that he owned these people or anything… but if part of her reason for being here was to learn more about Jimin and get closer to him in that way… fuck, she was a creep! Would she have ever even talked to Jungkook if he wasn’t Jimin’s friend? She doubted herself now. 

“I’m getting another, do you want one?” Andi asked, nudging Hanbyul in a friendly, familiar way that she was flattered to have somehow already earned .She didn’t want another one, but she also did.

“I can buy you something back,” she offered Jungkook before following Andi.

“It’s fine.”

“I insist.”

“Ok, whatever you get.”

“Even if it’s girly?” she checked.

He gave her a horrified look and clarified, “It’s a drink, there’s no gender.”

Hanbyul too was horrified and insisted, “No, I know! But sometimes men are so–”

“I’m just fucking with you. Girly is fine, I don’t discriminate.”

Hanbyul did not know what to make of him, especially since Hoseok was now leaning to the side laughing into the final sips of his beer.

“Forget this, I’m coming too,” Chun decided. “They just want to stand around and drink.”

“We’re going to get more drinks…” Andi pointed out.

“But we can dance on the way and back!”

In that way Hanbyul found herself boxed onto the dance floor for a period of time that could have been ten minutes or an hour, she couldn’t have said. The music was high energy and heavy-bass and she couldn’t tell when one song ended and another began. Her movements felt painfully clumsy next to the graceful way Andi and Chun twisted and swayed. It would be obvious to anyone observing that she was no dancer –but everyone was packed too tightly for anyone to really observe. Hopefully. 

She was glad when it ended, and that relief led her to agree to the round of shots Andi bought. Chun missed her mouth slightly, the rum dribbling down the cleavage of her dress, which Andi dramatically helped her wipe. Then they leaned in close with Hanbyul and scouted out the hotties along the bar, of which they considered there to be very few. 

Hanbyul kept waiting for one of them to ask her something pressing or private –maybe why Jungkook had suddenly invited her along, or why she’d come, or why she thought she should delve further into Jimin’s life when she was just his neighbor– but they didn’t. 

The closest was Chun asking, “What do you think, Hanbyul? Anyone at this bar catch your eye? What’s your type?” But she didn’t have any malicious twinkle in her eye or bullying smirk, it really seemed like just a sincere question! And Hanbyul began to realize that maybe she was getting too used to workplace politics and competitiveness and it was interfering with her ability to just make friends. Was that what was happening here?

Maybe it was that hope, or maybe it was the alcohol starting to do numbers in her blood, but she admitted, “I don’t think I have a type… at least not one that has worked out for me.”

“Oh no. Something recent?”

“Oh… I did end something recently… but it wasn’t his fault, it was…” Oops. Just in time she realized she couldn’t say more about this without revealing way too much –not only because all roads led to their friend Jimin but also because she’d only just met these girls! “It didn’t work out,” she summarized.

“Another shot?” Andi asked, already signaling for the bartender.

“No, wait–”

“Yes!” Chun agreed. “You can feel sad about it tomorrow if you really want to, but tonight there’s dancing!”

“I’m a terrible dancer,” Hanbyul found herself confessing. They were overwhelming, both of these women, pressing another shot into her hand. It was bitter this time and made all three grimace and smack their lips.

She thought they’d missed what she said anyway but Andi insisted, “There’s no such thing as a terrible dancer. Technique? Sure. But dancing is just… feeling! It’s just moving! It’s just breathing.”

“You have clearly not seen me.”

“I was dancing with you five minutes ago!” Andi laughed. “And now I’ll dance with you again, let’s go!”

Hanbyul had Jungkook’s and her drinks in her hand, but did her best to shimmy and sway adequately along with Chun and Andi in the direction of the table. She felt ridiculous but their acceptance was a balm on her self-conscious soul. Jungkook and Hoseok leapt up at their approach and began dancing as well. It was just such a completely different club experience than Hanbyul was used to when she would go out with work peers, or longer ago when it was college friends rotation around her, drinking too much, picking at each other’s appearances and achievements to feel better about themselves in what felt like a hunting grounds for sex.

This didn’t feel that way at all! Hanbyul found her nerves dissolving with each sip, with each song (assuming it wasn’t just one long song playing which she thought entirely possible), with each moment of shared laughter. It was impossible but she began to feel as though she had known these people for a very long time.

Also the alcohol helped. 

Hoseok spun her around –vaguely she recalled making some comment about ballerinas– which led to her promptly over-balancing against him, or it was possible Jungkook had bumped into her, and possibly on purpose because they were dancing near their table and the space was tight and everyone was very close together. She felt barely on her feet and slid around to lean against the table instead and catch her breath so she didn’t accidentally drag Hoseok down. Their empties were gone and she hesitated over the waters, which had now sat unguarded for some period of time. She ought to get water fresh–

“Hey hey! You came out after all!”

Hanbyul didn’t know how she even heard Jungkook’s shout over the noise other than her sixth sense suddenly shooting an alarm up her spine. She turned, not even bothering to hope it was literally any other friend of Jungkook’s than Jimin.

No, worse. 

There was Jimin, an eyebrow lifted and his mouth open in surprise aimed clearly, undeniably in her direction.

And there beside him, both eyebrows lifted and mouth open in surprise aimed clearly, undeniably in her direction, was Namjoon.

“Fuck!” she choked out.

Jungkook gasped and grabbed her arm, asking, “Did I step on your foot?”

“No but I suddenly need to go home– I mean yes, I need to go home.”

“Shit, how bad–?” Jungkook dropped to a crouch, reaching for her foot. Which was a very bad look, she thought. She leapt away from him, but teetered again because the alcohol. The alcohol! Shit, she could not be drunk at a club like this in the presence of either Jimin or Namjoon and most definitely not together!

“I’m fine, but I’m heading out. Goodnight!” Would they believe that she hadn’t seen them and that’s why she wasn’t greeting either one of them? All of this had happened in the span of four seconds.

No, it wouldn’t make sense, even her alcohol-riddled brain knew they were directly in front of her.

“You really don’t have to leave on my account–” Namjoon said.

“Why do you have to go, just because I’m here–” Jimin said at the exact same time.

They stopped and looked at each other and Hanbyul lost at least three years off her life. 

And then mercifully, before they could say anything, Andi flung her arms around their shoulders and cheered, “You sad sacks came out after all? Let’s get you some motherfucking drinks!”

“Wait, you’re both really here? You never come out!”

“I have a kid,” Jimin defended, suddenly all smiles as Chun descended, pinching his arm and brushing something off his shoulder. 

“I, uh,” Namjoon coughed and looked over their heads. “I just don’t like places like this.”

“Oh sorry it’s not refined enough for you,” Andi tittered. “Too busy at art galas and restaurant openings to consort with club scum, huh?”

“Andi,” he complained, dimples flashing, all the charm Hanbyul had initially liked about him. And yet she felt so closed off from it now, like she could recognize but not really connect with that charm. How could she when Jimin was there beside him, glowing like her north star?  

Hanbyul saw her chance and took it. She ducked around them all and tried to flee for the door. She could call an Uber and be speeding away, looking back through the rear window, before anyone even noticed she was gone.

Unfortunately, the club was a confusing place and after weaving across the throng of dancers, she’d been carried by the current upstream to the bathrooms. 

“Shit-shit,” she mumbled to herself and darted inside because she really did need to pee too and better to do that now. Maybe they’d think she was already gone and stop looking for her and she could still escape. She took her time, braced every time the door opened for it to be Andi or Chun ruining her escape. But as some amount of minutes (uncountable because alcohol) ticked by, she steeled herself and found her confidence. She could get out of here. Whatever Namjoon and Jimin talked about in her absence, at least she wouldn’t be here to face it. That was a Tomorrow Hanbyul problem. Today Hanbyul needed to get the hell out of here.

She stepped boldly from the bathroom in the direction she was certain was the front door –and ran boldly into Namjoon.

“Hey.”

“Oh, hey, Namjoon,” she said, thinking as she said it how casual and cool she sounded. Might as well tack on hey, wow, I didn’t see you, didn’t know you were here!

“Hey look, I– sorry, I guess I surprised you… I didn’t know that you uh… knew these people… or would be out at a club… tonight. This club. With these people.”

“Oh, yeah, it was sort of a… a spur of the moment thing. Jungkook invited me along and I didn’t want to just sit at home so…” Her words caught up to her and she realized how terrible that sounded. I dumped you but I also didn’t want to be bored so I just went clubbing.

“Ah. So Jungkook uh… is the guy…? I didn’t even know you knew him…”

“What guy?”

“That you said…” He leaned in close as the music took a turn, and the warm scent of his cologne was unkind as he said closer to be heard, “You said you had feelings for–”

“Oh! NO THAT’S NOT HIM!” she shouted, stiff-arming him away. A little too roughly, she realized, and quickly grabbed his arm and apologized, “Sorry, I– I forgot I told you that. No, it’s not him. He’s just a friend. Sort of. And I– sorry, I’m a little drunk right now kind of?”

“Ah.”

“I didn’t just break things off with you and go party, I was feeling pretty bummed so I thought I’d do something out of the ordinary…I mean, it was the right thing to do but like I said, um… but now you’re here and…” And Jimin is here…

“Hey, it’s fine,” Namjoon assured her. “If you aren’t comfortable with me here, I can leave but if it’s ok, I can be cool.”

“You’re very cool,” she agreed.

He smiled, a handsome dimpled smirk like she hadn’t answered his question correctly, and corrected, “I just mean, I’m only going to be here for a drink and then I’ll go. This isn’t really my scene so don’t let me chase you away.”

“Ok.” 

“And uh, just so it’s out there, if you… ha, nevermind. I’m just going to get my drink, don’t mind me.” He held his hands up and backed away and Hanbyul hated not knowing what he’d been about to say. Maybe: if you want to be friends, that’s cool, I can refrain from ever letting anyone know we had sex and a few dates. She hated that he was probably not saying that.

Almost as much as she hated seeing Jimin standing not too far off, having clearly watched their interaction.

She couldn’t go talk to him. Not while Namjoon would see her and she would probably say or do something that would make it immediately obvious who Jimin was to her because damn he looked so good! He’d gelled his hair back and rolled the sleeves of his dark button-up to his elbows. The club lights flickered off his earring, as if he needed any help from a spotlight to draw eyes to him. Hanbyul felt like the crowd dramatically parted, like the lights shone specifically for him, from him. 

She couldn’t read his expression, couldn’t tell if he was confused or annoyed to see her invading his friend group, or if he had a guess as to what had happened between her and Namjoon. For all she knew, Namjoon had told him everything before they came tonight, or in the time since she’d fled the table, and Jimin had come to demand what the fuck was wrong with her.

But Namjoon was a class act, maybe he hadn’t said anything. Maybe Jimin was only curious about why she and Namjoon had been speaking so closely. If she left now, all Jimin would know was whatever Namjoon said about it. If she stayed and everything seemed cool, maybe Jimin wouldn’t think anything weird was happening. She’d mentioned before she spoke to Jungkook through the app, so it couldn’t be a total surprise she was here.

It made sense in her mind, and was a better excuse than that other thought: I just want to hang out at a club with Jimin. 

Who was she kidding, she couldn’t stay here!

He was walking towards her and she couldn’t move. 

“Hey,” he greeted when he reached her and she wondered if he ever used that line on women at the club because it would totally work, looking like that.

“Jungkook invited me and I had a really long day so I thought it would be good to get out of my apartment,” she blurted out in an attempt to distance herself from Namjoon in one sweep.

“It is a good idea,” Jimin said. “I didn’t know you went clubbing.”

“Rarely.”

“Me neither.”

“You look like a natural,” she assured him.

“Clubber?”

“Huh?”

Jimin shook his head and laughed, “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Me?”

“Uh… yes?”

“Yes,” she said, despite knowing she really shouldn’t. More alcohol was the last thing she needed but Jimin had offered! Jimin twisted his hand behind his back so she could hold onto it and trail him through the club to the bar. Jimin asked her what she wanted and paid and she felt bad to let him pay but he’d bought her a drink!

Drink in hand, she was the one to lead them back to the table, though it had been abandoned; all Jimin’s friends were dancing. She thought to join, but Jimin leaned against the wall and she felt anchored to his side.

He nudged her arm and asked, “So how do you know Namjoon?”

“Dating app,” she answered quickly. “And Jungkook. I think all your friends are on there… I make a lot of friends on there… it’s not just for dating!” What was she even saying? She thought maybe if she said “friend” enough it would be enough to save her.

“Friends, huh?” He was practically shouting to be heard, not leaning in as close as Namjoon had. She wished he would; she felt like the distance meant something. “I don’t know anything about apps but I started an account today. Guess I’ll see you on there, huh?”

Hanbyul didn’t know what to do with that information. Why had he made an account on a dating app?!

Same reason as you, moron. Park Jimin was ready to start dating again, that’s what it told her. He’d come to the club looking like that, so maybe he’d been hoping to meet someone here. He must be, to come out when he didn’t normally. The thought of watching him pick up a woman made her break out in a cold sweat. What if she ran into her leaving Jimin’s apartment in the morning–no, probably he wouldn’t take someone there with Sun-young at home, but maybe she was spending the night somewhere else? 

“I hear it’s tough though,” Jimin said, still shouting. “Namjoon had a thing going I guess and it ended today so I made him come out too.”

Oh god, he knows.

“I’d rather meet people the traditional way,” he continued.

“Here?” she asked, face twisting into a grimace. “I guess it depends on what you’re looking for.” 

“Ah… I don’t know…”

“Not all of us meet people as easily as you but I don’t think you’ll have a hard time,” she shouted back.

He pressed his hand over his eyes and then laughed, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Do you need a pep talk before you go hit on someone?” she asked, drawing on all of her strength to be what he needed in this moment and not do what her drunk brain was encouraging her to (lean in and kiss.) “You are brave and smart and funny and–”

“Are you giving me the same speech you gave my daughter?”

“Maybe!” she laughed because he was laughing and because it all felt briefly very funny, having this shouted conversation in the club with Jimin. Encouraging him to go meet a woman “the traditional way” (drunk in a bar) to take home and do the things she wanted to do with him and hope he didn’t find out she’d done those things with his friend already… but different things! Similar in theme but different!

He finally did lean in and begin, “You know what she told me today? She– hey, maybe we should go somewhere we can hear–”

“HEY!” Chun suddenly appeared, followed in short order by Hoseok. “The fuck are you wallflowers doing?”

“Come dance,” Hoseok agreed. “You can talk at home!”

There wasn’t room left to argue. She and Jimin were dragged out, downing their drinks on the way to abandon on a table, and then pressed into the dancing mob. Hanbyul had hoped to position herself so she could at least dance near Jimin, but her hesitation when faced with Namjoon and what he might realize about her feelings towards his friend was just enough time for Andi and Chun to slide in between. Instead Hanbyul found herself on the fringe with Jungkook and Hoseok.

Maybe that was for the best. She was like a baby: without Namjoon or Jimin in sight she was able to forget them, aided by alcohol and loud music and the antics of these two of Jimin’s friends. Despite being physically graceful men, they were clearly just having fun with dancing; both grinned and laughed and didn’t take themselves too seriously which helped her feel less self conscious about what her less-drunk brain would have termed “awkward motions at best.” Maybe she was getting the hang of dancing in the club! Maybe she’d be confident enough now to dance over closer to Jimin! 

Abort abort abort!! Hanbyul froze at the familiar way a random woman danced with Jimin, her hands trailing over his body. Maybe she wasn’t random? Jimin did not seem put off by it, just laughed and lifted her hands but kept her close. Hanbyul wasn’t sure what to make of that. Was Jimin really that bold or did he already know that woman? Hanbyul couldn’t imagine dancing with a man like that. The envy flooded her.

She tried not to look again but it was hard not to. She felt suddenly like a switch had flipped and all the fun she’d been having abruptly turned off. She was being stupid jealous. Hadn’t she just encouraged Jimin to go meet someone? And they were just dancing. And even if it went somewhere, it wasn’t any of her business.

“I need water,” she announced to no one in particular and disappeared again, responsibly leading herself to the bar. It tasted weird and unpleasant in her mouth, and at the first sip she had the urgent need to pee, which meant another swim upstream through the crowds to reach the restrooms. The club was becoming less fun by the minute.

She didn’t think that much time had passed but when she tried to find the group again, they’d scattered. Trying to locate them was a fool’s errand; she’d think she saw one only to squeeze her way there and find it to be someone else. She was all twisted around. The room felt overly loud, the music too loud, the lights too bright. 

There, Jimin!

At the bar, nodding as the woman from earlier leaned in close to say something in his ear. He said something back, right in her ear, then appeared to look around before shaking his head. The woman touched his arm.

Hanbyul knew her night was over. She couldn’t stay here and watch him pick up a woman. She shouldn’t have been here in the first place. She could still see Namjoon out of the corner of her eye, that good guy she’d dumped for no reason other than that it was casual fun when she wanted something serious with someone who was not available, only for him to immediately find her out at the club. She couldn’t find Jungkook. She barely knew Andi and Chun. Her feet hurt and her head was swimming and she felt like she kept getting drunker even though she hadn’t had anything to drink in a while.

Oh no, she realized with a longing for sobriety. I drank too much. Control of her arms and legs felt exaggerated, and the music felt like it was leaking into her skull, and she had the impulse to take off her clothes because it was so hot in here.

Don’t do it! The last tendril of her rational self pleaded with her to behave. She shushed it gently with a finger to her lips.

“You!” a voice at her elbow called. She spun, expecting Jimin, finding Jungkook.

“You were lost!” she cried.

He glared and wagged his finger, “You disappeared! I’ll be in deep shit if I lose you!”

“With the proper authorities?”

“Wha?”

Someone bumped into her and she edged closer to Jungkook with a pout. She didn’t want to be here anymore. She wished Jimin would take her home –no, Jimin wouldn’t take her home, even though they lived right now to each other. Jimin might be taking someone else home.

“He’s still talking to her,” she realized, her eyes landing on Jimin despite the crowd. She couldn’t tell if it was the same woman but it didn’t matter. Jimin was going to take home whatever woman he wanted and meet more women on the dating app and Hanbyul was going to have to just sit back and cheer him on. She wanted to cry.

“Hey, you ok? You look like you’re about to cry.”

“I want to go home,” she said in a small voice. “I’m too drunk…”

“Ah, damn. No, don’t cry.”

“I won’t cry,” she vowed, though didn’t quite believe it herself.

“What? I can’t hear you… let’s just get you home,” he said, as best she could tell. When he nudged her towards the door, she let him guide her out. It had cooled off considerably outside and she shivered. The sudden shift in volume left her feeling teetery, as if she’d been leaning on the noise and body heat.

“How drunk are you?” he asked, hand gripping her arm.

“Um, just a little bit… I can get a cab…” she pulled her phone out of her purse and promptly dropped it on the ground. “Oops.” It was embarrassing for Jungkook to see her like this. She didn’t know how she’d gotten this far, just one drink leading to another, and it was all fine until suddenly she fully understood she was watching the love of her life–

“He’s not the love of my life,” she insisted.

“What now?”

“I don’t know, where’s my phone?”

Jungkook held it up, but promptly overbalanced and fell on his ass. Only when he started laughing did Hanbyul consider she wasn’t the only drunk one, and it was overwhelmingly comforting in that moment. A few tears did leak out then.

“Shit, you’re crying. Let me go get Jimin, he’s better with that kind of–”

“NO!”

“No… Jimin?”

“Can I sleep at your place?”

“Uh…” Jungkook looked up at her from the curb. “Yes… but–”

“Not to have sex!”

“Ok geez.”

“No, I have to get home to Hudu… where’s my phone…” 

“It’s dead,” Jungkook told her.

Hanbyul promptly sat down beside him on the curb and sighed, “Well shit.”

“I’ll get you home.”

“You don’t have to.”

“No? I should just wave and let you walk off? Jimin would shred my balls and peel the skin off my body.”

“Ew,” she gasped.

“Oh he can take you home, he lives right by you.” Jungkook began to rise but Hanbyul knocked against him to send him sprawling again. “What the–”

“No!” she cried on a delay. “Anyone but him.”

“Anyone?”

“It can’t be him. He’s… busy.”

“Busy…?”

“Like… flirting. I don’t want to get in the way.”

“Nah, he won’t mind.”

“I can’t! He can’t see me like this! Who knows what I’ll say?!”

“What’s the worst you can say?” Jungkook laughed. “‘I’m in love with you’?”

Hanbyul grabbed his arm, eyes going wide, and demanded, “Did I say that?!”

“Wha?”

“How did you know that?!”

“The… fucking… wait… do you?”

“Did Namjoon tell you that?!”

“What does Namjoon have to do with anything?”

“I didn’t tell him who but I didn’t think he would show up today and why is Jimin friends with everyone in this city–”

“He’s a friendly guy.”

“I know and I know I’m just a friend so you don’t have to tell me but I still didn’t mean to…” She trailed off, unable to bring herself to admit she’d fallen in love with him, or unknowingly slept with his friend, or that her jealousy over him even talking to other women in the bar right now was going to consume her.

“Hey.” Jungkook nudged her arm with his. She gave him a miserable look. “I don’t think you’re just a friend.”

“Thanks, Jungkook. That’s sweet of you… I think…”

“No, I mean–” A car interrupted him, pulling to a stop so close that they both scrambled backwards. “Oh that’s our car.” She thought it was too soon for a car to have arrived. How had he even ordered one on his phone without her seeing? They scrambled into the car like a pair of street rats.

“Oh my god I’m too drunk I shouldn’t have been saying any of this! Stop making me talk!”

“It thinks it’s the alcohol.”

“Too much,” she sighed. “Why did I come out with you?”

“To have fun. Admit it, you were having fun.”

“I was, until…”

“So you’re like… in love with–”

“Stop saying it! I didn’t say that.”

“You pretty much did,” he tittered.

“You can’t tell him. Promise me. Promise me, Jungkook, not a word!”

“Why would I tell him your business?” Jungkook snickered. “I think you should tell him. And let me watch.”

“Jungkook. Jungkook Jungkook Jungkook–”

“Hanbyul, what.”

“We can never tell him,” she said with utmost sincerity, grabbing his hand and squeezing as tightly as she could. “He can never know.”

“Why not?”

“He and Sun-young are too important to me. Do you understand?”

“Yeah but what if you’re important to him too?”

“I am. I get to take care of Sun-young sometimes and he likes my cooking…” She closed her eyes because the car ride was making her dizzy. At least thinking of Jimin helped settle her head just enough she didn’t think she was going to puke in the backseat of the Uber. Probably. 

“Yeah but what if he thinks you’re more important than your cooking?”

She smiled and wished she could move enough to pat his head as she explained, “He doesn’t but I can be happy with being neighbor Hanbyul, but not less than that if I make him uncomfortable and he stops talking to me.”

“I don’t really know you a lot but I don’t think you should settle.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Yeah, I’m sweet,” he agreed. “I think it matters, love and romance and… and thinking someone is the best part of your day…”

“Are you a romantic?” she gasped.

“That’s what I’m saying!”

“I thought you were a…”

“A what?!”

“A flirt…” Fuckboy.

“I am a flirt. I can be both. And I’m not setting for anything less than… I’m waiting to meet someone who gets all red faced talking about me like you do about Jimin.”

“I do not! I’m just drunk!”

“It’s cute.”

“I wish I could fall out of this car and have it run me over.”

Jungkook laughed hard and Hanbyul actually felt all right for him to know her secret. At least for right now. Even though he was one of Jimin’s best friends, at least right now her drunk mind did not perceive a threat that he would run and tell. Right now he felt like her friend too, like they were just two drunk girls in the bathroom sharing secrets. Except it was the back of a cab and his only secret was that he wanted to be in consuming love someday. To be honest, Hanbyul did not think being in love agreed with her so far.

Because yes, she was a little bit in love with Jimin and so far it was nothing but stomachaches.

They walked together up to her apartment. She thought he was just being a gentleman, but when she got back from the quickest pee she’d ever taken Hudu on, she found Jungkook puking in her bathroom.

“Mixed my alcohols,” he groaned. 

Well, Hanbyul was drunk enough to spill her secrets but not enough to puke. With any luck, Jungkook wouldn’t even remember these conversations tomorrow; she hadn’t realized he was as or even more drunk than she was.

“You can sleep on the couch,” she told him.

“The couch? Come on, let me share your bed.”

“Jungkook!”

“We don’t have to fuck! Jimin would never forgive me–”

“Stop talking about it!”

“About fucking? Or Jimin? Or fucking Jimin–”

“Jungkook!”

“Come on, you’re practically my sister in law at this point, just let me sleep in your–”

“I am not! What are you talking about?!” She covered her face and leaned against the wall. And refused to admit that she felt some secret little thrill in this teasing, in someone else making her connection to Jimin seem real and acceptable and possible. Even though she knew it wasn’t and that Jungkook was just a brat who was enjoying teasing her –which was sweet in its own way but she was definitely going to die of embarrassment tomorrow if he remembered any of this.

When she uncovered her face, Jungkook was holding Hudu, swaying slowly with the pup under his chin, and humming. 

Until he suddenly set Hudu down and sprinted to the bathroom again. At that point he decided he wanted the couch after all, since it was closer to the toilet. Hanbyul brought him a trash can too and a glass of water, by which point he was already asleep. Not that she was far behind. The room spun as she lay in bed, the events of the day sliding and jostling over each other.

Jimin was so handsome. And sweet. And charming. And kind. And handsome.

It didn’t matter what Jungkook said. Jimin wasn’t interested in her like that, as evidenced by his attention to other women, as evidenced by his mentioning dating other people to her several times now, as evidenced by his joining of a dating app when there was a perfectly ok Hanbyul down the hall.

Plus… Namjoon.

Well. This had been fun. But Hanbyul was never going to drink again and never going to go out with Jungkook and their friends again.

But first she made sure Jungkook was asleep with traitor Hudu curled up on his legs, and closed her bedroom door, and let her vibrator walk her through the memories of the way Jimin had looked and danced, except this time around her, kissing the lingering taste of his drink into her mouth…

Jimin slept like shit. Every time he’d start to doze, he’d grab his phone again, squinting at the blinding brightness to see if there was a message back. Occasionally he’d manage to fall asleep only to bolt up, certain he’d heard his phone ring –that obnoxious awful ring he’d put on ever since that one time Sunnie’s school hadn’t been able to get hold of him because he always kept his phone on silent and they’d called Hoseok, the second emergency contact, to go get Sunnie and she’d thought it meant her dad died too.

There was never an obnoxious ring going off. Instead he drifted in and out of sleep until Sun-young was awake, enough of an excuse to get out of bed and go through the motions of making them both breakfast and rattling off their plans for the day. Not that there was much for this one blessed weekend. Jimin wasn’t teaching any classes or partaking of any workshops or attending any performances by fellow dancers. Sun-young wanted to see her friends but there was nothing planned yet, and she had no weekend dance since there was no reason for her to take on extra. It wasn’t time for dress rehearsals yet. For her final recital.

“We need to grocery shop,” Jimin suggested, because their fridge was empty and that made him think of cooking and food and Hanbyul, which was better than thinking of Sunnie quitting dance. Hanbyul who had not answered his phone call or either of his texts asking if she got home all right. That wasn’t excessive, was it? But she’d been very drunk, and every time he’d tried to make his way over to her, Kim Hayoon kept catching hold of him again –and he couldn’t exactly just shove her off because she sat on the board of a scholarship that aided many of his students, which in turn kept his lights on and doors open.

Hanbyul must be ok. Just hung over. Hoseok said he’d seen Jungkook getting her an Uber and while Jimin would have greatly preferred that someone let him know Hanbyul was heading out so he could catch a ride home with her, he knew he could trust Jungkook. The fact she was drunk was both obvious and endearing, he could see it in the way she danced without her usual reserve, and the exaggerated way she responded when anyone talked to her. She just had a different look in the club when they’d talked that he couldn’t quite explain but it had just felt… different. He hadn’t understood she was drunk at first when they spoke, and maybe she wasn’t yet then, maybe that came later. He didn’t know, she just seemed happy. He had gotten painfully little actual time with her and the injustice of that was palpable. She’d looked amazing and he had never in his life expected to be at a club with her and he would have liked to dance together. Preferably just the two of them… and what the fuck was wrong with him that he hadn’t managed to make it happen?!

“I’m not hungry,” Sun-young said, possibly related to his comment about grocery shopping. He closed the refrigerator, now several degrees warmer, and looked over where Sunnie poked at her gyeran bap, cheek resting on her hand.

“You want cereal instead? We have…” He trailed off, realizing they had none. Hanbyul might have some he could bum off her…

“No,” Sun-young sighed. “Can I watch TV?”

“Sure, but we should go grocery shopping today and figure out what else we need to do… laundry… do you have homework?” Even as he said these things, he frowned. He did need to do these tasks, but he also wanted to just have fun with his daughter. Maybe Hanbyul could come along? He could tease her about last night, make sure she understood he had wanted to dance with her–

But to what end? He’d dance with her and maybe she’d humor him and only think to herself a little why is this old dad wanting to dance with me at the club? Why is he even here? He didn’t usually go to clubs –not because he didn’t enjoy them but because he didn’t usually have the time or energy. But Namjoon was bummed because that girl he’d been dating had called things off and it wasn’t serious but it kinda sucked and so Jimin had called in a favor with Yoongi and put himself together and gone to the clubs.

And there was Hanbyul, for no reason he could comprehend at the time, long hair pulled back to show off her neck, wearing a cute very short dress he’d never seen her in before… vibing with Jungkook. For a moment he’d lit up like a holiday tree with surprise and envy and relief, because here was an opportunity to spend time with Hanbyul in an adult setting except she was already spending that time with Jungkook! 

And then there was whatever Namjoon and Hanbyul had been talking about by the bathroom. He didn’t realize she’d gotten to know so many of his friends around him and now he felt even more like an idiot not to have invited her into his circle long ago. They clearly got along with her, she seemed happy –except for that moment she spoke with Namjoon, and looked so distressed it was hard to hold himself back from running in to save her. Maybe he should have. At the time he’d hesitated because Hanbyul wasn’t his to save and whatever they were talking about wasn’t his business. He’d been anchored by that twist of displeasure that she was young and single and pretty and so were his friends. 

Sun-young curled up on the couch with a blanket and watched some kid drama with an unblinking, disconnected stare. It dragged Jimin from his thoughts of Hanbyul.

“You ok, Sunnie?”

“I’m tired.”

That was wildly unlike her. Jimin perched on the edge of her couch and touched her forehead but couldn’t decide whether it was unusually warm or not. 

“Does anything hurt?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Your head? Your stomach? Your throat?”

“I don’t know, I just feel…”

“Yes?” he prodded, waiting for the revelation.

“Tired.”

Illness in Sun-young always raised a panic in him on par with what he’d experienced when she was only an infant and he and Subin young, inexperienced parents convinced every sniffle could be the first sign of something fatal. Most parents learned over time through proof of the contrary that colds were common and their child was healthy, though the fear always lurked in the shadows. But when Subin was suddenly very sick, and only a short time later died, it broke that security in Jimin. Any illness could be the last one. 

The doctor’s office was used to his overreactions at this point. He didn’t care, though he tried to reign it in once Sun-young made clear she found the coddling overbearing. He tried to trust her assessment of her own body, but she was a child! She gave him nothing to go on this time anyway, just tired, so Jimin checked ears and nose and throat, took her temperature, pressed on her belly, took her temperature again.

“A small fever,” he murmured.

“I think it’s just a cold,” she said, drooping to the couch again. She nudged his leg. “I can’t see.”

“Your vision is hazy?!”

“You’re blocking the TV.”

“Oh…” 

“My throat hurts a little,” she conceded, as if throwing him a bone in his worry. He had thought it looked a little red, her lymph nodes a bit swollen to touch.

This called for an aggressive offense of yuzu jelly tea, popsicles, and Sunnie’s favorite stew samgyetang. But they were out of popsicles, there was only a scrape of yuzu jelly left in the jar to make tea with, and of course he had no samgyetang readily on hand.

He glanced at the clock. It was nearing ten now. Surely Hanbyul would be waking up –even if she’d slept in with a hangover. In fact, he had some Easy Tomorrow she could drink! He should have taken it over last night and regretted his thoughtlessness now. She might be having a rotten morning and it would be shitty of him to show up and ask if she had any yuzu jelly or could make samgyetang for his sick daughter.

But she might be already making it for herself, and she might not mind sharing the jelly, and she might appreciate the Easy Tomorrow later than never. Plus he could confirm with his own eyes she’d gotten home safe.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“Just to see if Hanbyul has yuzu jelly.”

“Tell her to come watch TV with me,” Sun-young said from her blanket burrito. “You can say I’m sick if it makes her come.”

“I think you are sick, kiddo.”

“I’m just a little tired.”

She coughed immediately afterwards, as if even her body couldn’t stand by the dismissal of her symptoms. Jimin would never. Already he was evaluating just how far he’d let her symptoms get before he’d take her to the doctor. The answer: not very far.

He felt a twinge of guilt as he knocked on Hanbyul’s door. She might have a headache so he started quietly but when he didn’t hear anything, graduated to the buzzer.

He tracked footsteps to the door and then a pause during which he assumed Hanbyul was peeking through the peephole to see who was bothering her on a Saturday morning. He ran his hand through his hair, hoping he didn’t look too rough.

The door swung open to reveal Jungkook wearing yesterday’s clothes and looking puffy-eyed and crusty. He yawned and scratched at his cheek and gave Jimin a sleepy grin.

“Hey, Easy Tomorrow, thanks,” he said, reaching for the bottle. “I was just heading out. Hanbyul’s still asleep if that’s who you’re looking for.”

Jimin was so completely stunned to be confronted by Jungkook answering Hanbyul’s door that he could only stammer out, “Who else would I be looking for at Hanbyul’s apartment?”

“Yeah, good point.” Jungkook unscrewed the cap from the bottle and downed it in one long chug while Jimin just stood there, waiting for an answer to any of the questions he couldn’t find his voice for: why are you waking up inside Hanbyul’s apartment wearing yesterday’s clothes? Why did you go home with her? Why did you invite her out in the first place? Are you two dating now? Did you fuck?

Bottle empty, Jungkook handed it back to Jimin and clapped him on the shoulder as he said, “It was good you came out last night. I think everyone had a lot of fun.”

“Uh… yeah, uh…”

“Fuck. Think I’ll get some more sleep at home… see ya later. Tell Sunnie I said hey.”

Jungkook did not seem to realize that Jimin was stunned speechless. He set off down the hall, leaving Hanbyul’s door open as if Jimin was going to just waltz right in. She wasn’t even out of bed yet! Had she slept naked after Jungkook…

Jimin pulled the door shut, making sure he heard the click of the lock before sprinting back to the safety of his own apartment. There he snuggled down beside Sun-young and pulled out his phone to order yuzu jelly tea and stew and anything else he could think of that they wanted for delivery, cost be damned. 

What the fuck?! Had Jungkook really gone home with and slept with Hanbyul?

Jimin couldn’t even process it. Jungkook ought to know she was off limits! But also, of course Jungkook wouldn’t think she was off limits, because Jimin never said so, because she wasn’t off limits. Even if it felt wrong for her to not be off limits. Even if Jimin and Hanbyul weren’t dating, she shouldn’t be dating any of his friends either, right?? Because… because there was still an emotional connection there…

Jimin flat out didn’t know what to do. Everything in him warred between marching right over, coming out with it and seeing what she said… and doing anything in the world except that.

But coming out with what? What did Jimin have to offer Hanbyul? Absolutely nothing in some areas and too much in others. A single father, a dead wife, a heart still trying to adjust to the idea of letting someone else in. If Hanbyul was interested in Jungkook, then Jimin was not the guy for her. Jimin should be looking for someone older and settled or something anyway, right? Maybe someone with a kid too, so they could mutually burden each other –not that he thought Sun-young was in any way a burden, but it was a lot to ask someone who wasn’t a parent to suddenly become one!

“Is unnie coming?” Sunnie asked, sitting up and leveling a pink-faced pout in his direction. 

“Oh uh, I don’t know, she wasn’t awake yet.”

“Can you call her? I really want her to come over.”

Jimin stroked Sun-young’s hair and took her acceptance of this touch as proof she was very sick. 

Would it be such a bad thing if Hanbyul wound up with Jungkook? He could use someone to look after him, and she could use someone who could be fun and free with her. And she’d still be in Sunnie’s life, just as an aunt instead of…

Was he really thinking of Hanbyul like this? It wasn’t in any explicit way, words still seemed impossible and ill-fitting and heavy. He didn’t know what he wanted, he doubted Hanbyul wanted this nameless space, he was too afraid to look directly at this thing taking hazy shape in his mind, this future starting to come into focus. Did the future have to be big and scary? Wouldn’t it be the easiest thing in the world right now for Hanbyul to walk in from the other room and settle on the couch with them, legs folded beneath her, Jimin’s arm around her shoulder and Sun-young draped across their laps? Hanbyul’s head settling onto his shoulder…

The physical closeness was the only thing that would be new, and he wanted it. He craved it in such a sudden, overwhelming rush that it almost drove him from the couch to take a lap around the apartment to work out this restless energy. He wanted Hanbyul here and it wasn’t fair that she wasn’t. Sunnie wanted her here too! Couldn’t they just have what they wanted this time? The scene was playing out in his mind, the casual affection, Hanbyul’s hand stroking Sunnie’s hair, Jimin’s fond smile, maybe a soft shared kiss once Sun-young drifted off to sleep halfway through the movie. God, to kiss Hanbyul, to share a warm, close embrace that he’d been deprived of for years! And for the first time in as long, the longing for it didn’t bring him to his knees in grief. Subin was there in his heart, forever and always, but there was space for Hanbyul too, space he desperately wanted her to fill. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he stared at the empty space on the couch as if she was really there, as if they were sharing the phantom first kiss. His flush was as real as if they had.

God, he was pathetic. Lonely, and latching on to a fantasy of his neighbor. He tried to push the thoughts from his head with limited success and turned to narrating the TV show to Sun-young instead until she insisted he stop. 

“Is this what you want to watch? Here, let me get you socks and your stuffie. Maybe you need some medicine too? I think delivery will be here soon–”

“Appa just stay still with me.”

He immediately froze, still as a statue as Sun-young adjusted in his arms, her little warm body curled up with his in a way he’d feared she had outgrown. 

Well he sure fucking wasn’t moving now.

“Ok. I’ll stay,” he assured her. 

“Did you message unnie?”

“Yes,” he partially lied. “But she has something else going on. It’s just going to be us, ok?”

“Ok,” Sunnie sighed and he felt her head getting heavier against his chest. 

There. There, if she could accept it, he could too. They didn’t need Hanbyul or anyone else in their lives. The two of them and the memory of Subin were a whole-enough family. Things were already getting better between them since he’d budged on the dance and science, and the future would be ok. 

He’d let Jungkook know to take care because Hanbyul was a good woman, and then he’d let go of that silly dream he’d almost fallen into.

He had Sunnie and Sunnie had him and they didn’t need anyone else in the world.

Except maybe someone to get the delivery at the door so he didn’t have to unsettle his sleeping daughter. Shit! 

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FINALLY. the most infuriating oblivious stupidly in love people i’ve ever seen

After the Applause (Ch. 7)

Header and linebreaks by @awrkives

Single Dad Jimin x Female OC

SUMMARY: Jimin doesn't know how he would have made it this far after the shattering of his world without the support of his thoughtful, generous, helpful neighbor. Hanbyul has lived next to hottie Jimin and his adorable daughter for years now, long enough to remember the wife he was so devoted to and lost far too young. With each safely ensconced on their side of the brick wall of the Parks' grief, it will take an enterprising little scientist to set the stage for a second chance at love.

CW/tags: grief, prior loss of spouse/parent, comfort, explicit sex, secondhand embarrassment, sort of love triangle/web/rat's nest, fluff, cursing, dating apps, fuckboy friends, dancer Jimin, stubborn dad Jimin, stubborn pre-teen daughter, miscommunication, pining

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By Monday Sunnie was almost completely back to her normal exuberant self, but her round-the-clock caretaker Appa had simply ushered the illness from daughter to dad. He knew it for sure when walking her to school left him red-faced, breathless, and shivering. There was no use denying it, no choice except to call Hoseok and other staff to see who could cover his classes for at least today and tomorrow. The last thing he wanted to do was pass this onto his students, especially not with the recital rushing closer.

Besides, he could work on choreography for Taejoon’s idol group from home –that was a gig he didn’t want to pass off. He could really use the additional income this month. Rent was going up in two months and he’d been avoiding thinking about it because obviously he couldn’t upset their lives and move them somewhere cheaper. This was their home. It had been Subin’s home. He wouldn’t know where to hallucinate her in a new home where she’d never been before, as he did the whole afternoon he spent curled up on the couch, sweating through his fever. 

Turned out he didn’t even have the energy to make himself tea, certainly not to choreograph a routine. Once again, Jimin had vastly overestimated himself.

At the last minute he realized he was not sure he could make the walk to get Sun-young. Shit! It was a short list of friends he felt comfortable asking for a favor like that: Hoseok was already covering his classes, Jungkook wasn’t answering his phone, but Taehyung did, on the second ring, like he’d been waiting for a call from Jimin. He was happy to get her but he had promised to go with Seokjin for something and could he just take Sun-young along with him for that? It sounded to Jimin like he’d said to greet the Muppets for the disco party but that was probably not right. The fever made everything fuzzy right now.

But whatever, Taehyung and Seokjin would never take her anywhere unsafe, so that was perfect. He called Sun-young’s school to have them give Sunnie the message Uncle Tae would pick her up and then collapsed on the couch and stopped thinking about anything. The fever was miserably uncomfortable. He didn’t have any adult medicine for it in the house; he prided himself on not getting sick often but damn it would have been welcome right now. Maye anti-nausea too, his stomach cramped and complained even though he wasn’t hungry.

The whole afternoon passed in a blink. He didn’t realize he’d even fallen asleep and suddenly Sun-young’s feet were pounding down the hallway. She knew the code and let herself in, Taehyung and Seokjin right on her heels.

Seokjin called from the hall, “No offense, Jimin, but I’m keeping my distance. I can’t get a restaurant of people sick!”

“I could use a few days off work,” Taehyung joked. “Lay one on me.”

Jimin only grunted at him and eased himself up to a sitting position. Sun-young grimaced.

“You’re really sick, Appa.”

“Wonder how that happened,” Taehyung teased and nudged Sun-young. But she looked genuinely upset, and that last thing Jimin wanted was for her to feel guilty. It was part of being a dad. He didn’t want her to hide that she was sick next time.

“It’s a testament to how close we are together,” Jimin insisted, the words a croak from his throat. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Thanks for keeping her this afternoon, Tae. Thanks, Jin.” He pushed up from the couch and did his best not to look wobbly. “OK, Sunnie, let’s figure out some dinner.”

“You sure you don’t want me to stick around and help?” Taehyung pressed.

“Nah, it’s fine, I’m good, just groggy because I’m waking up.”

“Ok… but hey man, call me if you need anything, ok? You know my schedule is flexible, I’m happy to help.”

Jimin thanked them both again and flinched when the door slammed shut behind them. The offers were sincere, he knew that, just like he rationally knew his friends did not mind covering his classes or helping him with his child. He had to believe that, because he knew he wouldn’t begrudge them the help. He loved to be helpful. But accepting help when he’d had to lean on them so much was hard. He didn’t feel like it was nearly balanced.

Belatedly he realized he should have asked Taehyung if he knew what was going on between Hanbyul and Jungkook. Taehyung was nosy, he probably knew exactly how long they’d been dating and how serious it was and where they met and the first time they kissed and everything.

Maybe it was better he hadn’t asked though. He didn’t know that he was in a good headspace right now to find out they’d been dating for months now and he was just dumb as a rock oblivious. Why wouldn’t Jungkook have told him? And honestly, wasn’t it right that Jungkook should have asked him first if he had feelings for Hanbyul before making his move? It was the right thing to do as friends.

“Appa are you ok?” Sunnie asked as he shuffled to the kitchen. 

He waved his hand at her. “Yeah yeah, I’m good.”

But she planted herself in front of him and reached up to feel his sweaty forehead.

“You’re really sick, Appa. I know what it was like. Go lay down and I can make my own dinner.”

“You’re nine.”

“So what? I can make some things! Are you hungry? I can make something for you too.”

“I’m not hungry,” he admitted. He hesitated. If he insisted on cooking for her, was this just another way in which he was failing to recognize that she was growing up and gaining independence? Or was this leaning on his daughter in an unhealthy way, expecting her to be another adult in the house?

“We have gimbap, I can eat that. Go sleep. I’ll do my homework after I eat.”

“Ok…” He hesitated. This felt like a parenting failure. “Just get me if you need anything… I’ll just be in my room. You won’t be bothering me.”

Sun-young gave him a serious, decisive node and then pointed her finger towards his bedroom. He’d been summarily dismissed. It made him laugh, which turned into an achy coughing fit, so he did what she said and went to lie down.

Time passed unmeasured, but eventually Jimin rose from his deep sleep to the sounds of murmuring female voices and clinking cookware. For a brief moment, he found himself lost in time to years ago, when his wife might be in the kitchen cooking dinner. Especially after Sun-young was born, they’d alternated day-night shifts since their newborn daughter demanded attention round the clock; she’d been a terrible sleeper. He’d usually taken the night shift because he liked it anyway. 

Just as quickly he landed back in the present time. He tried to push quickly and clumsily from the bed to find out who the hell was in his apartment with his daughter, when he heard a laugh that answered for him.

Hanbyul was here.

He slowed his step and glanced at himself in the mirror over his dresser. He looked fucked up. There was only so much he could do about it though, the sweaty pink shine wasn’t going away until the cold did. He brushed his fingers through his hair, trying to look devilishly disheveled. He was not sure that it worked. He changed his clothes quickly so at least he wouldn’t smell like stale sweat.

He pulled on his best smile as he leaned against the counter separating kitchen from dining and living room. Sun-young stood on a chair and peered through the lid of a deep pot. Hanbyul stood at the counter beside her with her loose sweater sleeves rolled up past her elbows, knife making quick work of an onion. Her hair was pulled up into a spiky high bun, a few wispy strands escaping to frame her face. Her eyes were red from the onions when she glanced up at Jimin. And smiled.

“Appa! How do you feel?” Sun-young asked very seriously again, her laughter from a moment ago deftly suppressed.

“I’m..” He wanted to say good but he didn’t want Hanbyul to take his appearance as normal. “I’ve been better,” he admitted. “But better since this morning… I think…” The scent of the onions tickled his nose and he turned quickly away to sneeze into his elbow. Suddenly Hudu leapt down from the couch and vaulted over to Jimin, jumping up against his legs, like he’d been sleeping too deeply to notice Jimin was even there. 

“We’re making samgyetang,” Hanbyul assured him, as if he couldn’t have figured that out by the gingery smell of the broth. His nose was too stuffy to have caught it from the bedroom, but when Hanbyul lifted the lid on the pot so she and Sun-young could look inside, just enough of it managed to reach his sinuses for him to groan. He had no appetite but for that, he could develop one.

Hanbyul’s raised eyebrows made embarrassment rush through him.

“Oh, uh, it smells good. My nose is all f– messed up, but I could smell that– why are you here?” His voice cracked on the last note after croaking out the rest of it. Quickly he added, “You’re always welcome but we’re sick! I don’t want to get you sick too.”

Hanbyul shared a smile with Sun-young, as if they’d predicted and discussed this response. Jimin tried to crouch to pet Hudu, still spinning around his legs, but his body was too achy. He tried to get Hudu to jump up into his arms, but the dog wouldn’t. A stalemate in which neither of them was happy.

“I appreciate your concern but I think I’ll be all right. I have such a strong immune system, I rarely get sick. Don’t worry about me.”

“I asked her to come help me make soup for you,” Sun-young added.

“I see but– it’s very thoughtful but–” He spun quickly away to deliver a coughing fit into his elbow. Hudu was worried enough to scratch at his shin.

It meant he didn’t see Hanbyul come around from the kitchen until she touched his arm and held out a mug of steaming yuzu jelly tea.

“Please go rest more. Sun-young and I are just fine here.”

“She taught me how to mince garlic!”

“With a knife?!” Jimin cried, barely more than a wheeze of words.

Hanbyul tutted at him –tutted– “She’s old enough to learn how to safely cook things! I was much younger and still have all my fingers. Now back to bed, and make sure to drink that tea.”

She was so firm about it, he found his legs obeying. He stopped just through the door though and looked back. Hanbyul slid back around the counter and looked at whatever Sun-young was showing her on the counter. He knew that hopeful smile of Sunnie’s, that desperate need for acknowledgement. She beamed at Hanbyul’s praise for whatever it was. Together they lifted the lid and slid things in, four hands working together, and put the lid back on. The pot belched at them though, knocking the top askew. Both girls erupted with giggles as Hanbyul stirred and replaced the lid. Hudu sat in the middle of the rooms, as if he needed to see everyone at once. He watched Jimin and something in his eye made it look like he was about to bark and tattle on Jimin for not being in bed yet.

She shouldn’t be here. She didn’t need to be here. It  was asking too much, for her to come into a sick apartment and make soup for him. Sunnie had done the asking and Hanbyul had come and he owed her so much.

Hudu barked.

“Go to bed, Park Jimin!” Hanbyul called, and Sunnie giggled and pointed, chanting, “Go go! We’ll get you when it’s ready!” 

“Traitor,” Jimin mumbled to Hudu. Hudu stretched out to nap, conscience clear.

He lay in bed, as ordered. He sat up to sip the tea until only the dredges were left. He lay back down and listened to the crescendo of giggles across the apartment. They wove through his dozy dreams, swaddling him, rocking him in the rhythm of their conversation. He dreamed of seashell wind chimes on the balcony of a beachside bungalow; he dreamed of a crackling fireplace in front of three mugs of hot cocoa; he dreamed of a cool breeze caressing his skin with whispers: dance on, dance on.

He awoke to silence. The window was black with night, only by the light from the hallway could he find his phone in the sheets: 8:30. Time to get Hanbyul ready for bed. His body ached as he pushed himself up from the sweaty embrace of his bed. He felt like garbage, but slightly warmed over garbage, thanks to his nap-companion Hudu, who had jumped up into bed with him at some point. Garbage that could at least get his daughter’s school things ready for tomorrow, see her to bed, shower, and then collapse again. Maybe eat some soup, if there was any left. 

He forgot to check his hair and face as he stumbled into the hall. Two figures sitting at the end of it made him do a double take. It wasn’t the ghost of Subin, though, and he wasn’t confused by a memory this time, only confused to see them there: Sun-young and Hanbyul kneeling in front of the shrine they kept for Subin by the narrow window she had always joked was for growing a single flower in. So they did grow a single flower in it, though Jimin often forgot to water it so it tended to be more dead than alive.

He paused as Sun-young’s voice carried, “Sometimes I don’t remember very much about her.”

Hanbyul made a sympathetic humming noise.

“I was only maybe six years old when she died? I just remember suddenly she lived in the hospital and Appa took me there to visit her and I didn’t like being there because it smelled bad and everyone was sad a lot.”

“It’s ok not to remember everything,” Hanbyul said gently. “You were very little and sometimes remembering someone we’ve lost can hurt a lot, I think, so our minds… hm, maybe they wrap a blanket around the memory to keep it safe for another time when it won’t hurt so much.”

“Maybe that’s why Appa doesn’t talk about her very much,” Sun-young said and Jimin felt a knife in his ribs. “It makes him really sad.” Jimin felt like they did talk about her a lot. Wasn’t Subin in almost everything they said and did? But less so lately, and that was… hard.

“I can’t imagine how hard it is to lose someone you love that much. You both are very strong. I’m glad you have each other.”

He knew he shouldn’t keep listening to this and yet he couldn't tear himself away. Was it really so bad to eavesdrop? He decided Sun-young was right; despite the shrine, they did not talk about Subin very often. He always feared speaking of her would only remind Sunnie of what she lost, what she didn’t have. It sure did for Jimin.

“I remember her hair was really soft and I would wrap it around my fingers when we read books together,” Sun-young said. “I just learned to read when she got sick and I read books to her in the hospital. She liked Hello Banana Moon and Cloud Bread. Do you know those books?”

“I don’t.”

“I think I still have them. I’ll let you borrow them so you can read them. They're really good but I haven’t read them in a long time. Maybe we can read them together.”

“I’d like that a lot,” Hanbyul said and Jimin could feel her smile even though he saw only the back of her head. The girls sat so close together, Subin’s smiling face beaming down at them from the shrine. He knew where those two books were: tucked into the cupboard beneath the candles and figurines and Subin’s photos. He’d tucked them there when she died because it was too much to read the words to Sun-young that ought to be in Subin’s voice. 

But Sun-young wanted to share those stories her mother had taught her to read with Hanbyul.

The emotion was difficult to breathe around, a pair of fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, a rising tide blocking his throat. 

“I don’t remember much,” Hanbyul said. “I didn’t know your eomma very well but I would see her in the hall or the mail room. She was always very polite and thoughtful. She would hold the door open if my arms were full. If someone left trash out, she would take on the task of cleaning it up, even though it wasn’t hers. One year there was ice on the stairs and our neighbor Ma Gurim who is high in years nearly slipped. Your mother called the building manager and wouldn’t stop calling until they came out to take care of the ice.”

Sun-young giggled and said, “Appa says I have her stubbornness.”

“Her resilience, I think it is. Her brightness. She seemed like she could do anything, just like you.”

“It’s not very fair that she died.”

“No, Sun-young. It’s really, really not fair.”

Sun-young let out a heavy sigh and rested her head against Hanbyul’s shoulder. If it made Hanbyul uncomfortable, Jimin couldn’t tell from her body language. After a moment she wrapped her arm around the girl’s shoulder and rubbed her arm.

Jimin didn’t want to disturb them. He felt like he would be. Anyway, he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t have said anything better than Hanbyul had and her words lingered with him as he tiptoed away to the kitchen. 

It was too much to ask of a woman, wasn’t it? To come into a house that had lost one and take over being a partner and a mother. Not that it mattered anyway because Hanbyul was seeing Jungkook now but… well, it would have been too much to ask of her and that’s why it was for the best. Probably she felt incredibly awkward talking to Sun-young about her dead mother because it was an uncomfortable topic and while obviously she had navigated it beautifully, it was too much to ask. 

The kitchen had been cleaned so thoroughly there was no evidence of cooking. He opened the fridge with a start in his heart that maybe they had eaten all the soup and left none for him.

“What are you doing?” Hanbyul demanded behind him. “Shoo, get out of my kitchen! Go sit down.”

“It’s my kitchen,” he glowered, and playfully demanded, “Where’s my soup?”

She squeezed behind him and bodied him away to open the oven door where a stone bowl of the soup rested, still warm. The scent of it carried such a strong sense of strength and health and rest that it nearly brought tears to his eyes. That’s it, that’s the only reason his eyes were misty.

“I’ll carry it for you, go sit.”

“It’s time for Sun-young to get ready for–”

“I know, Appa, I’m already in my pajamas. I just need to brush my teeth,” Sun-young glowered just like him, arms crossed at his doubt. “I’ll make you tea and then go right to bed.”

“We have to get your backpack ready–”

“We did that,” Hanbyul assured him. “She wants to eat school lunch tomorrow or I said I would pack her one.”

“Unnie even ironed my uniform,” Sun-young added.

Hanbyul looked embarrassed by that and clarified, “With you both sick lately they just sat in the laundry basket for too long. Sunnie told me about her fundraiser and demonstrations.”

“Appa, can unnie help us make the rice cakes? We can teach her how to make them really nice. I know Appa isn’t a good cook but he really knows how to make the best rice cakes.”

Jimin felt like he was wrapped up in a whirlwind between them as he dove into the soup Hanbyul placed before him. They’d carried on all evening without him, and Hanbyul even had Sun-young ready for the day tomorrow. He didn’t have to worry about a thing.

“I can walk Sunnie to school too, if that’s helpful,” Hanbyul offered. 

Jimin shook his head and argued, “It’s not the direction of your office.”

“You know that?” Hanbyul asked, surprised. 

“I see the direction you walk, it’s not mysterious.”

She grinned and insisted, “It’s not too far out of the way though. I’ll just make my coffee at home before I go instead of stopping by the cafe. It’s better for my wallet anyway.”

“I’m sure I’ll be better by the morning.”

Sun-young put her hands on her hips and said to Habyul, “I think both my parents are stubborn.”

“There was no other way you could be,” Hanbyul nodded and it made Sun-young giggle. “It’s a good thing.”

“Is it?” Jimin teased.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that and go brush my teeth,” Sunnie said and stuck her tongue out at him. 

How strange to feel like a cared-for guest in his own home. Hudu had moved to the living room since Jimin left the bed and stretched out in a new nap across Jimin’s slippers, several of his toys strewn across the rug. The TV was off but low music played through the speakers.

“I’ll turn that off,” Hanbyul realized, heading for it. “Sunnie was trying to teach me to dance.”

“You seemed to do fine at the club.”

Immediately she covered her face and sighed, “Let’s never talk about that again.”

“No problem,” Jimin said and meant it. He’d like if they could never talk about him going to check on her the next morning and Jungkook opening the door as well.

While he slurped the soup and Hanbyul fiddled with the CD player and Sun-young sang loudly to herself in the bathroom as the water ran and Hudu decided to take a break from napping and work the squeaker out of his toy, Jimin got a very foreign feeling: wholeness. He felt like he was home. He was home, but he felt like it quite suddenly, like he rarely had done since the very first day he’d come home while Subin remained in hospital.

Sun-young threw her arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek and bid him goodnight. Hanbyul followed her to say goodnight and turn the light off and for a moment Jimin almost told them where the storybooks were, but couldn’t quite bring himself to it. It felt dangerous to, like if he offered her one more step further into their lives, he’d never be able to let her go. 

Could she really co-exist with the memory of Subin? Was Sun-young really ok with that?

How could it seem so natural to watch her turn the bathroom light off and take Sunnie a glass of water and then scoop Hudu up for a snuggle. She ought to collapse onto the couch in exhaustion after an evening of parenting. And Jimin would collapse next to her, and drag her into his lap so they could stretch out and find something worthwhile to watch on the TV. She’d fall asleep there and he’d wake her gently later to move to–

Shit, he had to stop thinking like this. He had to. It was becoming too tragic to pine for his neighbor too late. He’d fucked up and only his fever-riddled brain was willing to admit how badly. Very badly. As she carried Hudu with her to sit in the chair next to him, Jimin had the unfortunate understanding that he might be very much in love with Hanbyul and been trying to hide it from himself.

I never know what I’m doing but you make me feel like I can figure it out. I think you belong here. Why don’t you just stay?

“I’m sorry if I massively overstepped tonight,” she said, completely at odds with his internal tragedy. 

“No. No, of course not. You can’t overstep but you didn’t have to do all this–” He broke off to cough into his elbow –away from her. If he got her sick, he’d never get over the guilt.

“I’ve told you before, it’s not a big deal. I love spending time with Sun-young and I’m glad you were able to get some rest. I’m serious about walking her to school in the morning too, unless you’d rather have one of your other friends.”

“I’m sorry if she made you uncomfortable talking about… Subin.”

Hanbyul’s sincere confusion was so endearing that he felt a twinge of guilt, saying Subin’s name just as he thought damn, Hanbyul really is pretty, isn’t she? It’s crazy she never went into acting or modeling.

“Why would that make me uncomfortable?” Hanbyul asked. “I’m flattered she felt like telling me about her mother. She’s a part of you and Sun-young forever. It’s unfair she can’t be here to take care of you while you’re sick and take care of Sun-young, but I hope I honored her by stepping in for an evening.”

Jimin nodded, briefly without words. 

Hanbyul gently touched the back of his hand and added, “I’m truly sorry for your loss, Jimin. I don’t know if I ever said that.”

“You did.”

“Well, good. And please don’t think you or Sun-young are ever a burden when you need help. No one is meant to do everything alone and–” She broke off as he suddenly flipped his hand, catching her palms against his. “--and I’m really happy to be here,” she said, barely a murmur as she stared at their hands. Jimin too, unsure how that had happened. It had been impulsive. It was the wrong move.

He drew in a deep, ragged breath and she pulled her hand away. He shouldn’t have. She was dating his friend. He couldn’t say he regretted it. He should have wound their fingers together, kept her there. 

But what would he say? I care about you more. Quit Jungkook and be with me. I’m sorry I was slow but it’s scary, you see? I didn’t think I could do this again…

He pushed back from the table and she leapt up as Hudu jumped down from her lap. She reached for the dishes but Jimin shooed her away.

“I can manage them.”

The fact she didn’t argue seemed telling. She gathered Hudu’s things into her bag and slid her phone into her pocket and Jimin felt an absolute dread that she was leaving. He knew he’d overstepped with the touch. She had to think so, because it had felt insanely intimate to him, just that moment of their palms touching. Her cheeks flushed and he feared it was with anger.

He started to say he was sorry, but Hanbyul spoke over him with a smile that seemed sincere, “I’ll come by to get Sun-young at 7:30. Don’t argue about it, please. I told her I would so it’s very important to me that I keep my word.”

“All right then. Thank you. Goodnight, Hudu,” he said, scratching the dog’s head. “Goodnight, Hanbyul.”

“Goodnight.”

It felt awkward. He felt it. He’d made her feel awkward, and after all she’d done for him. But he didn’t know what to say to fix it, and he already felt like shit anyway, so this one time he kept his mouth shut and just locked the door behind her.

The apartment felt empty with her gone, just him and sleeping Sun-young left, like the movie had ended and there just credits rolling. There wasn’t even music playing anymore.

Jimin knew he ought to get back to his apartment quickly. It was bad enough he’d had to call in another favor, but it was only fair he cover Hoseok’s classes now that he was sick, and Sun-young had science club, and sometimes things just seemed impossible for a single parent.

But walking past the corner florist made him pause. And think. And think. He was a thinker, a planner, he shouldn’t do things impulsively because then things could go wrong and you weren’t prepared.

But things went wrong even if you carefully planned. Time was unknown and unsympathetic and always running out.

The apartment had just felt so empty without her in it, the chair she’d sat in pulled out as if still waiting for her to take her seat again. He felt like he was waiting for Hanbyul to get home from work. One evening wasn’t enough.  

Was it worth the risk of losing a friendship over? Two friendships?

Park Jimin did something he never did: he let impulse take over.

He bought the flowers, a big pretty bouquet of purple and pink and white because they looked like stars and that was her name. Hanyul: Big Star.

He ignored the mailroom for now, because he was on a mission. He was going to shoot his shot. If it caused a rift with Jungkook… hopefully it could be mended. Probably it would cause only a rift between himself and Hanbyul because she’d be gracious about his unwelcome feelings and then he would lose something that was devastating him to have so little of anyway.

“Hold the elevator!” Jungkook called and dove inside.

For a moment they looked at each other, and then Jungkook’s face broke into a wide grin and he asked, “Who are the flowers for?”

“Sunnie.”

“Ah. Right.” 

They’d forgotten to push the button, so Jungkook did.

“You here to see Hanbyul?” Jimin asked, wishing it wasn’t true.

“Yeah.”

“Ah.” Silence as the elevator shimmied to life. “So uh… that. How did that happen? Is it serious?”

“Is what serious?”

Leave it to Jungkook to make Jimin spell it out, the ass: “You and Hanbyul.”

“We’ve got a real connection. Why do you ask? You in love with her or something?”

Thank fuck for his careful control of his face. 

Jimin gave him a playful grin and assured him, “No, no, I’m just looking out for her. I’m just asking if you’re serious about her.”

“You should fight me for her,” Jungkook grinned back.

Jimin’s expression twitched as he said, “I’m not… I’m not fighting you for her.” Gone was his foolish plan to sweep her out from under Jungkook.

Fuck, what an awful choice of words.

“Well not physically, I’d beat your ass,” Jungkook laughed. “I mean confessionally.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Are you at least going to give her a choice? I mean, I’m pretty serious competition, it’d be pretty hard for anyone to– but hey, maybe it’s your lucky day,” Jungkook said and slapped him on the shoulder. 

“A choice… between us?” Jimin’s heart leapt into his throat with hope. Probably Jungkook was just fucking with him, but if he was actual casual enough to give Hanbyul a no-strings choice… well, would she really choose the single dad over hot young bachelor Jungkook… but… but maybe Sunnie could help him make a powerpoint and she’d find it charming…

Jungkook sighed, “You don’t like that idea? That sucks. Listen, don’t break her heart or anything, ok? She’s a really good friend of mine and–”

“No, stop, that’s what I was going to say!” Jimin forced a laugh, stepping off the elevator after him. “I just wanted to say I’m happy for you and that I–”

“Well I’m not dating her but maybe you should before someone else does, if you’re so bothered by it.”

Before Jimin could fathom a response, Jungkook pushed the buzzer at Hanbyul’s door.

“What, what do you mean you’re not–”

The door dragged open to reveal Hanbyul –in shortie shorts and a t shirt with a faded Minnie Mouse on it and stripey flower socks. Her expression shifted at once from neutral to surprise as she stared at Jimin.

Jungkook plucked a phone charger from her hand.

“Hey Hanbyul, thanks, Jimin’s got something to say to you, bye.”

He promptly turned and walked back towards the elevator.

**

“Uh…”

It took Hanbyul half a minute longer than it should have to realize Jungkook had retrieved his abandoned phone charger and departed. Her attention remained leveled at Jimin’s face in an attempt to not die of embarrassment: she’d just woken up from a gloriously braless and pantsless nap to a message from Jungkook saying by process of elimination he thought he’d left his phone charger at her place and was on his way over. Her offer to leave it at Jimin’s was too late; he never responded and she had time to do nothing but drag on shorts before the buzzer at her door revealed Jungkook. 

And Jimin.

He looked so much healthier after his illness –thanks in part, she hoped, to the soup. He looked even better since she’d seen him, when she picked up Sun-young and walked her to school before peeling off to haul ass to work. 

And then Hanbyul spent the next two days avoiding the Parks because she wanted it too much. It brought her too much happiness to be over there, doing simple domestic things with them like that. It was torture not to kiss Jimin’s flushed forehead and brush his hair back and really take care of him. It was unkind to herself and possibly to Sun-young to let herself get so close to the little girl who did not deserve to lose anyone else from her life.

The recruiter had contacted her via email and wanted to schedule an official interview; he promised to call her soon. Hanbyul had done a freaking out dance around the apartment. Then whipped her bra off and fallen into bed for a stress nap.

And now Jimin was standing at her door, seeing her in this disheveled space, holding out a bouquet of beautiful purple flowers. She did not understand and only took them because he seemed to want her to hold them for him.

“They’re for you,” he explained, as if she was an idiot (she was.) “To thank you.”

“Jimin, I told you, you have to stop thanking me. I’m going to start taking it as an insult.”

“Wha?”

“You didn’t have to get me flowers. But they’re beautiful, so thank you.” She loved how gracious that sounded, as if she could be cool about getting flowers, as if it happened all the time (it didn’t.)

“They’re stars, like your name. I don’t know what they’re actually called,” he admitted, laughing at himself.

“Thank you, I’ll put them in water right away.” She stepped into the apartment, expecting that was goodbye, but Hudu foiled her plan, darting into Jimin’s arms –or maybe Jimin had already wedged his body in to follow her through. That brat (Hudu, but also maybe Jimin.) 

“One second!” she called over her shoulder and disappeared into her bedroom to frantically drag on a sweatshirt. It was going to be weird if she completely changed, wouldn’t it? But she was so unkempt. Would it be weird to put on pants? 

She was taking too long. She hurried back to find Jimin going through her cabinets, looking for a vase. The only one was a heavy crystal thing she had borrowed from her mother a year ago because her mother had been grievously disappointed the visit before that Hanbyul didn’t have flowers on her table.

“Perfect, right Hudu?” He tossed a smile down to the pup, and then over his shoulder at her, and she felt simultaneously like a queen and a bug. He looked like that, smiling at her when she looked like this. It didn’t make her feel better that he’d recently looked sick. He had been adorable.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” she said.

“How are you? Not coming down with anything?”

Actually she’d had a slight headache all day and her throat felt scratchy that morning, but she wasn’t going to tell him that and make him feel guilty for accepting the help. It was probably nothing. A sudden onset of spring allergies or something.

“I’m good.”

She joined him at the counter but let him do the work of untying the bouquet, snipping the stems with her kitchen scissors and arranging them artfully in the vase.

“Wow, you’re really good at that.”

“I learned some arranging tricks when I was younger because it was cheaper to buy bulk flowers and make our own arrangements for performers than buying the bouquets.”

Her phone rang –a godawful thing because she never had the ringer on and didn’t even know what it was set to– and she gasped as she reached for it, but it was only her sister so she sent it to voicemail. She couldn’t risk missing this call!

“Ouch,” Jimin laughed. “Who deserved that?”

“My sister… I’ll call her back later.”

“Oh I don’t mean to stop you–”

“No, she’s calling to ask about–” Hanbyul broke off. Was this the sort of premature news one gave a neighbor-acquaintance-friend? “I might curse it,” she admitted.

Jimin raised an eyebrow but kept his gaze on the flowers he futzed with as he asked carefully, “Curse what? Not your um, relationship with Jungkook I hope?”

“I have a job interview– uh, wait, what relationship with Jungkook–?”

“A job interview! A new job? Or the promotion at your current place?”

“I don’t have a relationship with Jungkook,” she said. “A friendship, but that’s all.”

Jimin nodded and smiled. He pushed the vase towards the center of her counter and assured her, “It’s none of my business.”

“Why, did he tell you something else?”

“No, he said the same,” Jimin shrugged. 

“When we went out clubbing he had too much to drink and crashed here. Apparently he takes a phone charger with him when he goes clubbing in case he goes home with someone.” Hanbyul shook her head. She couldn’t imagine leading that kind of life. He had only laughed at her advice: maybe stop having sex the same day you meet a woman if you want deep and lasting romance so badly! Then he’d asked how deep and lasting romance with Jimin was going and she had threatened to block him. 

“That he does.”

“You met someone that night too,” Hanbyul recalled –in painstaking detail. She tried to be light as she teased, “Any exciting dating plans? Someone you met on the app?” She had on the exact same expression she knew she wore when trying to make bad news sound like good news at work to the higher ups.

He hissed through his teeth and admitted, “I haven’t even finished setting up my profile. And if you’re teasing me about who I think you are, she’s on the funding board for a scholarship group my dance school works with so I had to play nice. I didn’t realize you’d sneak away on me.”

“I didn’t sneak.”

“Hm.”

“I was way too drunk to be sneaking,” she admitted. “I don’t go out much like that.”

“Me neither.”

“It was fun though.”

“Would have been more fun if we’d actually gotten to dance,” Jimin said. Hanbyul could have sworn there was a note of longing to his voice.

“You don’t want to dance with me,” she assured him. “I can’t dance at all.”

“That’s ok.”

“No, I mean it. Your daughter suggested maybe I’d do better at yoga and asked if I understand what the beat of the music is.”

Jimin laughed and covered his eyes, “Oops. She’s a sharp-shooter sometimes… But no one is a lost cause. I saw you dancing at club and you did fine. Anyone can learn with a little help, I believe it.”

What were they talking about it again?

“Maybe next time. If there is a next time.”

“I hope there’s a next time,” Jimin said. He looked to the side in thought, then shook his head and admitted, “Honestly I was kicking myself. I don’t know why I hadn’t already introduced my friends to you. Of course you get along with all of them.”

“Why would you introduce your neighbor?” she laughed. Try to keep it light. This conversation felt strange for a reason she couldn’t quite put her thumb on. It felt serious, like an air of goodbye had settled around them in a haze. 

She hadn’t even done the interview yet!

“You’re not just my neighbor,” Jimin corrected. “Ma Gurim is just my neighbor. You’re at least a close friend.”

“At least,” she immediately repeated. 

He looked surprised by his own word choice, panicked almost, and clarified, “Not just anyone will come over and take care of me and my daughter when I’m sick.”

“Get over yourself, it’s not an inconvenience,” she teased to cover the way her heart fluttered high in her chest. At least a close friend.

“Get over myself,” he repeated with a laugh. “It’s true, I have an ego sometimes.” He ran his fingers through those blond locks. 

Her phone rang. What timing! She wanted to follow that train of thought: what did he mean by ego? Why was he smiling like that? He wasn’t flirting with her, was he? He must still be sick.

But interview terror temporarily outweighed Jimin confusion, and she answered her phone before it could ring a third time. Jimin’s eyes got big and he shirked his shoulders as if he shared her excitement and didn’t leave.

The recruiter was straight-forward but polite on the phone. There was interest in her resume and application letter. They would like to meet her for an afternoon of interviews. There would be several rounds for this more senior position, she must understand the selection process was thorough to ensure a good fit, which date from a list of available would work for her? Did she have any professional references she could provide for contact? 

Hanbyul flew around the kitchen but Jimin was the one to find the pen and paper for her. She rattled off two former colleagues she had already messaged about acting as references. She could make the date work –though it worried her, taking time off from her current job to interview, like they would know she was up to something and fire her, and then she might not get the new job, and have no job.

By the time she hung up, her heart was racing as if she’d been interviewed already. She hoped the man couldn’t tell over the phone.

“A new job,” Jimin said. “That’s… exciting.”

“It might be,” she agreed. “If I get it.”

“They’d be fucking crazy to snooze on you. Where is it? You didn’t say…”

“Oh, well the company has several branches. One is here but there’s also one near my parents, in the town I grew up in. My sister’s about to have her baby, you know, and–”

“Right, yes, I understand.” He was nodding a lot.

“So now I have an interview,” she breathed out.

“It can be hard to live away from family,” he continued. “I understand why you’d want to move back near them.”

Yes, there were plenty of reasons to go. She had told the recruiter her childhood hometown was her branch preference. It should be her branch preference. Her parents were getting up in years and she would want to know her sister’s baby. She’d set out for Seoul years ago and what did she really have to show for it? Hudu was not an anchor.

“What made you stay here instead of moving back to be near your parents?” she asked.

“Ah, it was a hard choice,” he admitted. “They wanted me to. Sometimes I’ve wondered if it was the right choice. But I have family here too, so does Sunnie. Subin’s parents are here and I didn’t want her to lose that connection with her mother’s family. But also Taehyung and Jungkook and Hoseok, Yoongi, everyone, they’re here. They’re my family too. We have a home, I have my dance school, Sunnie loves her school.”

“That all makes sense.”

“For a long time I wondered if I just stayed here because it’s where I was before… but this is my life. Everything, almost everyone I care about is here.”

Hanbyul was the one nodding a lot now. She looked at the pretty flowers Jimin had brought her, just to say thanks for doing a thing she wanted to do all the time. She knew with absolute clarity that she couldn’t go into a job interview without knowing once and for all whether she too had a family anchoring her here. For a moment the image of her with him felt so real she could reach out and touch it. She needed to know if the illusion would dissolve at the brush of her fingertips. 

It was crazy to wonder. It was wistful thinking. She was crazy fucking delusional.

But she had to know for sure and if there was nothing, if she was completely imagining the flirting, if he just wasn’t ready or wasn’t interested in welcoming her specifically into his life well… well that was good to know. 

“I don’t have a relationship with Jungkook,” she said, feeling like someone else was speaking the words. “But um, I did date Namjoon for a little bit.”

Jimin’s brow pinched in confusion as he repeated, “Namjoon? You already know Namjoon? When did you date–”

“Recently,” she admitted.

Jimin’s eyebrows raised before he said slowly, “Ohhhh. No, really? You’re the woman who… at the club, that’s why…”

“I guess that’s me.” She twisted her mouth, not sure what to say about Jimin knowing her by action. Why was she admitting this again?! “I, um… it wasn’t serious, at least I didn’t think so. It was nice, I mean he’s nice, he’s a good guy, but it just didn’t…” She gestured, wishing Jimin would finish the sentence for her and read her mind. Alas, he did not.

“You just ended it that day we went clubbing.”

“I’d been putting it off. I sort of didn’t know if there was even anything to end, I mean we weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend or anything, we only went on a few dates really but– I admit, I didn’t handle it well, I should have called it off earlier. I didn’t know what to do because…”

She hated that she couldn’t read Jimin’s mind either. His expression was inscrutable. 

“I have feelings for someone else,” she said and felt like a good ten years of her life drained away with the words leaping from her tongue. She didn’t feel in control of that tongue. “I thought it would be better to meet someone else and move past those feelings.” She swallowed and cleared her throat. Her nose was getting stuffy. “But it didn’t work and it wasn’t fair to Namjoon.”

“This someone else doesn’t return your feelings?” 

She studied his face, desperate to tell if he understood what she was saying. She didn’t think she could be any more transparent, it would kill her. But she had to be. There wasn’t room for error and even though he was watching her so carefully right now, leaning forward, mouth open in that thoughtful pout he had, she couldn’t tell if he understood. She needed him to understand. She could be brave.

“No,” she admitted. “At least I don’t think so.”

“How could he not?” Even just that, even if he said or felt nothing else, Hanbyul felt warmed to her soul. 

Her smile flickered as she tried to joke, “I know, I’m a catch! But I’m still honored just to be neighbor Han–” He stepped forward suddenly and caught her face, cutting her off with a kiss. His lips pressed to hers, the softest caress, softer than her wildest dreams. A second kiss followed, harder, more certain, but still unhurried, like he had all afternoon to spend dragging that plush lower lip of his against hers. He kissed the ten years back into her lungs and then some; she felt sunlight seep from his fingertips into her jaw. She was drowning in him.

“He does return your feelings, Hanbyul,” he murmured, their noses brushing. “He’s just an idiot.”

“He’s not an idiot,” she argued. “He’s… careful.”

“So careful he may have missed his chance.”

What a silly fear from a silly, silly man. She slid her hands slowly up his chest, curious and shy at the strong curve of muscle firm behind the fabric. His neck was so warm beneath her palms. It felt scandalous to touch him so much, to hold him so close, to feel his hands ghost down to her waist, his fingertips nudging her closer.

“It’s not too late at all,” she whispered. “Not unless…” Hudu’s cold nose poked her calf and she startled. Leave it to her dog to nose in on the most romantic moment of her life because he couldn’t stand whispering.

“Unless what?” Jimin asked cautiously, as he leaned away to look in her face. Hudu barked and Jimin’s serious expression cracked into a smile as Hudu leapt up and scratched at his thigh for attention. As if demanding ok now what about me, where’s my kiss? 

God Jimin was even more beautiful up close, and now she knew what those lips felt like pressed to hers, and no words could do them justice. It didn’t seem real. Even his proximity didn’t seem real. It made her forget what she was saying until he threw a toy from the counter to distract Hudu and then pretended like they hadn’t had that interruption.

“Unless what?” he repeated.

“I just told you that I dated your friend. We, um, slept together….” Her face felt like it was on fire from the combination of kiss and confession. Double confession. Not the greatest combination of confessions.

Jimin actually rolled his eyes and sighed, “Yeah, I figured as much, I don’t need a play by play. But I kind of have a past too. I was married and she died. I have a daughter.”

“I know that.”

“And that’s not a dealbreaker for you?”

“No, of course not,” Hanbyul said, not understanding how it could be. 

“Then why would your past be a dealbreaker for me?”

“Well, it’s a very recent past…”

He shook his head, grinning, his earring dangling, and laughed, “I don’t care.”

“Really?”

“I think people are lucky if they get one chance at happiness in life. If I get another chance… I’m not going to let anything get in the way of it. Definitely not jealousy about you dating someone else before me. I can only be mad at myself for waiting so long, right?”

The magnitude of what he’d said was not lost on her. Another chance at happiness. That was… big. Bigger than a little crush, certainly bigger than anything casual thing she and Namjoon had talked about. For Jimin to speak so openly and optimistically about a future with her only moments after kissing her… 

She did it, she stole another kiss. She wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of her happiness, either. 

Then she gasped and laughed into her hand, “God, the first time you kiss me and I’m dressed like this!”

“I like it,” he immediately argued. “It’s cute. You’re very cute dressed like this.”

“I was taking a nap waiting for that call–”

He brushed the hair tenderly back from her face and instantly silenced her. The self-deprecation died on her lips because he looked at her like that. His fondness was transparent. How could she not feel radiant? Surely he’d never looked at her like that before, she couldn’t have missed it. The light touch of his fingers sent a shiver down her spine. Park Jimin was a dangerous charmer and somehow she was the object of his affection.

Impossible.

“Hanbyul,” he said her name lowly.

“Mm-hm.”

“Your face is very warm.”

“I’m…” She trailed off and pouted that he would make her say it. “I’m flustered.”

“I think you have a fever.”

“No, I don’t…”

“Are you sure you feel well?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “Really.” He pressed his cold hands to her cheeks and her forehead and her neck and she flinched, the muscles there stiff.

He narrowed his eyes at her and accused, “Did I get you sick and you didn’t tell me?”

“It’s probably just allergies.” She felt a jolt of worry. Would her being sick cause Jimin extraordinary distress because his wife had died? 

He cradled her face. He looked at her so sweetly. 

And ordered, “Get your buns to bed. It’s my turn to take your child for the evening. I’ll bring you stew.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry, I won’t cook it. I’ll order it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he insisted. “And not just because I got you sick but because taking care of you isn’t a burden to me either. It’s what good neighbors do.”

“Jimin!”

He snickered and then kissed her again, as if he couldn’t believe they did that now either. She was completely cowed into obeying his order to bed. He cared about her. He wanted to take care of her. And also to tease her, what a brat! She adored him.

“We’ll talk more about this later,” he promised, brushing his nose against her forehead. “If you promise I’m not too late, I can be patient for a little bit longer.” 

“Is this just a fever dream?” she murmured. Was Park Jimin really saying these things to her?! She felt like she’d hit her head and woken up in a drama.

“So you admit you have a fever.”

“No! Maybe… I’ll get my thermometer.”

She did. And Jimin brought over soup and kept Hudu, like he’d promised. And by the time Hanbyul had finished squealing over the phone at her sister –with very little space for her sister to contribute anything– her voice was shot and her nose was stuffed too much to even sniff her pretty flowers Jimin had brought her.

Did he really mean it, that he cared for her too? What did this mean for them? He hadn’t asked her out but said they would talk more later… Should she ask him out or wait for him to ask her out? Should she ask both of them out? Would Sun-young figure out something was off? Would it be upsetting for her? That child was crazy smart, she would definitely figure something out and ask Hanbyul on the spot and what was she supposed to say? I spiked a fever because your appa kissed me.

Being patient was hard. Harder than Jimin had anticipated. He had thought that kissing Hanbyul and admitting to her that he had feelings would bring him peace but instead it drove him fucking crazy because here they were hovering in this limbo space and she was sick. His fault! She’d cleared caught it taking care of him, and all he could do was take her soup and walk Hudu for her. It wasn’t nearly enough, not compared to how much she had done to take care of Sun-young. Definitely not as much as he wanted to do. He could see her shoulders ached with the fever; how badly he wanted to rub them for her. She was flushed and sweaty and he wanted to brush her hair back –in fact he did, but that felt like as much as he could do for now. 

She’d confessed first. God, he respected her so much for that. He’d definitely been about to chicken out. In hindsight he appreciated Jungkook putting him on the spot, but it didn’t escape him that, secretly, if she hadn’t said it first, he might have run away. He wanted to be brave, he did, but he felt so hopelessly out of his depth here. He didn’t think he could be trying this again with anyone but her, only Hanbyul, because she would be patient if he fumbled a bit. He truly believed that.

But they hadn’t had a chance to talk again because she was sick and he had promised to be patient, and he didn’t want to pressure her in case she took it back, if he harassed her. It scared him for her to be sick. He would be inclined to hover. He didn’t want to scare her off already.

Because now that this door was open, maybe open, if Hanbyul meant what she said and hadn’t just been delirious with fever… 

His heart raced every time he walked by Hanbyul’s door. When he buzzed to ask if Hudu wanted to go out again, he felt like a tongue-tied teenager again. 

Sun-young seemed to just accept that they’d been taking Hudu on walks for the last two days as if it was something they’d always done. She held Hudu’s leash and led Jimin on a path around the park that was clearly familiar to her and Hudu both.

“This is where unnie goes when we walk,” Sun-young informed him as they set out on a bigger circle of the park. “We go to the cafe and she buys me hot chocolate.”

“Hudu goes in with you?”

“He’s a very good dog,” Sunnie assured him, which of course he knew.  Jimin suggested they go, since she was clearly leading him there anyway, and listened with bemused interest as Sun-young told him facts she’d learned about dogs from a book at school, and how dogs were bred for jobs, and how she wondered what job Hudu was bred for.

“I think he’s a mutt,” Jimin said.

“That’s not very nice!”

“No, it’s not an insult. He just isn’t a purebred.”

“So?”

“No, I know, it’s not a bad thing,” Jimin insisted. “But purebreds are the dogs who were bred for a specific job. Mutts just… happened.” Because animals will be animals…

“Well I think Hudu would be very good at a job,” she said, and crouched down to scratch his ratty brown fur. “He can do anything he puts his mind to.” Hudu looked thrilled at her praise and nodded and licked the air in front of her, tail thumping against the pavement.

“Just like you.”

“That was cheesy,” she teased. “I wish Hudu was our dog.”

Jimin swallowed and nodded and casually suggested, “Well, he’s our good friend’s dog, so it’s kind of the same.”

“It’s not the same at all. If he was our dog he would live with us but right now we have to go all the way down the hall to see him.”

“Mm-hm,” Jimin hummed. Yeah, tell me about it. He knew it was too soon to talk to Sun-young about this thing that might be happening, that he might be going to date Hanbyul. He didn’t know what that meant, much less could he explain it to his daughter. It might mean nothing. Hanbyul might change her mind. They might go out on a few dates and she’d decide it wasn’t working. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, just because he was excited. Having a girlfriend wasn’t like adopting a dog, you didn’t just fill out some paperwork and they were yours forever.

“Appa why is your face all red?” Sunnie giggled. Yah, because I thought the word ‘girlfriend’ about Hanbyul. It was stupid to feel so giddy about it, like some deep slumbering part of him was creaking to life. They hadn’t even gone on a date yet. Hudu snipped at buds pushing through the ground in the flower beds lining the sidewalk and that was exactly how Jimin felt. He was waking up. Hanbyul made him feel like he was blossoming after a long, very hard winter.

“I’m just cold,” he muttered. 

“It’s not cold at all,” she insisted, and did a little spin on the sidewalk. It killed him how graceful she was and turning her back on dance but it was her choice. OK. He was living with it. “Hey we should start planning the rice cakes you signed us up to make for the fundraiser, huh? Do you know what science demonstration you’re doing yet?”

“Not yet. Let’s get hot cocoa to warm you up,” Sunnie suggested. Jimin wondered if that was what Hanbyul usually said; the phrase struck him as odd coming from his nine year old daughter. 

Hudu was pulling them that way too, so Jimin went along for it. She was right, it wasn’t that cold, it was actually very beautiful out this early April evening. Hanbyul liked winter but he knew she liked spring too, she would love walking in this right now, just as the cherry blossoms were reaching their peak. It was criminal she was stuck inside.

“Maybe if Hanbyul feels better this weekend we can see if she’ll go on a picnic with us to see the cherry blossoms,” he suggested.

“Because you just want her to cook for us?” Sunnie gave him a stern glare.

“What? No! I’ll cook.”

“You want to make her sick again?!”

“Hey!” he scowled, and pinched her cheek. She giggled and batted him away, but then grabbed his hand and wrestled with it before there was actually any space between them. He wrestled right back as they waited for the light and Hudu leapt around them, yipping like he was tattling. Jimin won by wrapping his arm around Sun-young and pulling her into his side for a stolen hug which she, breathlessly, conceded.

“Didn’t we go on picnics to see the cherry blossoms with Eomma when I was a baby?” Sun-young asked.

Jimin froze.

“We’ve gone other years,” he said slowly. Yes, it had been an annual tradition, as it was for most families. They’d missed the year after Subin died, because he couldn’t handle it. Maybe they’d missed the year after too? “Seokjin and Namjoon went with us last year.” He watched her as they waited, anxious about why she had thought of going with Subin and not with their other friends after he’d suggested it with Hanbyul. Had she already picked up on something special about Hanbyul going along, about his maybe budding relationship with Hanbyul? Was she already feeling like Hanbyul was encroaching on Subin’s place as her mother?

“Uncle Seokjin is a good cook too,” Sunnie mused. “If you invite him and unnie and Uncle Yoongi we can eat so much.”

Jimin laughed awkwardly. 

How the fuck was he going to talk to Sun-young about Hanbyul? He ought to wait until things progressed with Hanbyul, until he was sure she was sure there was a future there. This could be deeply distressing for Sun-young, him starting to date. Especially someone Sun-young cared about so much. It could ruin her relationship with Hanbyul, she could lose another very important person in her life if it was too soon for her. The progress he’d made with Sun-young could be undone. This thing that he wanted so badly might be the worst possible thing for his daughter… He couldn’t do anything to hurt her… Maybe a counselor could help? He was selfish, he wanted it all, but he also genuinely believed Hanbyul would be so good for Sun-young. Fuck, was he getting ahead of himself? But they were a package, he couldn’t be with someone who wouldn’t be a positive force in his daughter’s life, who his daughter didn’t absolutely love–

“Appa aren’t we going to cross?” Sun-young sighed noisily and then laughed at him as he hurried to lead her and Hudu across before it changed. He was sweating now. Was it better to wait to say anything until he and Hanbyul had been dating a while or was Sun-young going to figure it out no matter how they tried to hide it and be hurt he’d tried? But she was a child. But what if she was mad. But obviously he couldn’t tell her something like this when nothing had even happened yet, and might even not happen if Hanbyul thought better of it before he managed to ask her out.

“Ok Hudu, be really good in here,” Jimin warned the dog, despite Sun-young insisting he knew how to behave –as if implying Jimin was the wild card here. 

It was a cute little cafe, just a nice little local place, not too busy but busy enough to be a reputable place. A curved green awning hung over the door and there were cherry blossoms painted on the window. The decor was simple and clean, dark wood in the seating area and crisp white around the counters and coffee machines.

Sun-young marched right up to the line at the counter, Hudu’s leash tighter around her hand to hold him close, like she must have seen Hanbyul do. It was sweet, seeing this glimpse into what Hanbyul and his daughter did without him. 

When it was their turn, the older woman at the counter smiled at Sun-young and asked, “Oh, you’re not with your eomma today?”

A jolt ran through Jimin. He was used to this –people questioning where his wife was, other mother’s asking to speak to Sun-young’s mother, teachers assuming Subin would be the one to volunteer for class things. But worse, he realized with a shock that the cafe woman thought Hanbyul was Sun-young’s mother. This preyed instantly on the fears he had just been living, as if the universe reached down to pluck them out of his brain and bring them into the real world.

“Oh, I–” Jimin began just as Sun-young chirped, “This is my appa! Can we get two hot cocoas?”

Jimin was stunned by the graceful way she evaded the question and only nodded along as Sun-young picked out two pastries as well, and then led him to a table by the window, explaining, “We like this table the best so we can watch people in the park.” Hudu curled up beneath Sun-young’s chair and waited patiently for her to pass down a spoon of whipped cream. She sang, “Who likes whipped cream? Who do? You do, Hudu!”

Jimin blew on his hot cocoa and tried to find the words.

“Um… Sunnie, you handled that very well,” Jimin eventually mustered. He watched her closely, waiting for any sign she was distressed at this reminder of the fact she didn’t have a mother, or confusion around Hanbyul’s role in her life. 

Sun-young looked thoughtful before laughing, “I thought you meant giving Hudu whipped cream! You mean ordering our drinks? I was practicing what to say before we came in here because unnie orders for us but she tells me to order sometimes too.”

“No, I meant… the confusion from the woman about Hanbyul…”

“Oh that’s nothing. People think unnie is my eomma a lot,” Sun-young informed him. “Well, not a lot, but sometimes people in the park or here think that.” She looked at the ceiling thoughtfully a moment, licking whipped cream off her upper lip, then asked, “Are you mad I didn’t tell her the right thing? I usually tell people the right thing but if you tell someone who doesn’t really know you that your mom is dead, they feel really bad about it. I didn’t want to make the woman feel bad when she’s just being nice. She works here a lot and unnie always talks to her.”

Jimin curled his hands around the cup and insisted, “I’m not saying you have to say anything. I know exactly what you mean.”

“You do?”

“People don’t know how to respond when you say something sad, like that your eomma is gone. It’s thoughtful of you that you didn’t want to make her feel bad but it’s ok to correct them still, even if it makes them feel bad for a moment.”

“Oh. You wanted me to?”

“No, I mean that… I don’t want you to think you need to go along with something that makes you feel sad or bad just to not make the other person feel a little awkward,” he rephrased. 

“It didn’t make me feel bad,” Sun-young said. She set her cup down and had a dollop of whipped cream on her nose which she tried to get off with her tongue before giving up and using the back of her hand before he could find a napkin. “She just doesn’t know me. Why?” Suddenly Sun-young looked worried. “You think it’s bad?”

“No no. You’re right that she doesn’t know you. I just meant it’s ok if it does make you feel sad, or if it bothers you for someone to think Hanbyul is your eomma and you want to correct them.”

Sun-young stretched her tongue out to get whipped cream off the edge of her cup before saying, “No, I don’t mind.” If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she was far more interested in whipped cream than this conversation.

“No? Ok…”

“Sometimes she kind of acts like an eomma anyway,” Sun-young continued. “Like she does some things my real eomma would do if she was here.”

Every muscle in Jimin’s body clenched.

“Is that… ok?”

Sun-young couldn’t have looked more casual with her cheek on her hand as she scrunched her eyebrows and answered, “Yeah, why not? Then you don’t have to do everything.”

“I don’t mind doing everything.”

“You can’t do everything,” Sun-young insisted and gave him a look like he ought to know this. “It’s not that I like her more than you, you’re still my appa. But she’s a girl too and she does some things differently and I think it’s better having her around.”

“Yeah?”

“I get to see her so much lately, I mean until she got sick but you said it’s just a cold.” She gave him a quick look like a sudden fearful thought occurred to her.

“It’s just a cold,” he confirmed. “She got sick coming over when I was sick.”

“How did she get sick from you?”

“Hey that’s what happens with contagious colds,” he quickly insisted, afraid where her questions might lead her. “I didn’t do anything, that’s just how germs work. Just like it’s not your fault I got sick after you were sick. You’re into science, don’t you know about germs?”

“A little bit.” She began to rattle off things she knew about germs, peppering him with questions, so clearly unbothered by this entire conversation. Jimin felt himself start to thaw out. Surely it wouldn’t be that easy. It had only been a few years since Subin died. Sun-young’s feelings could change quickly if Hanbyul actually became a more official presence in her life. She was a little girl with such a little girl understanding of the world and relationships…

But she was growing up too. Maybe he was underestimating her. Again.

Once their pastries and hot cocoa were gone and Hudu was getting restless, Sun-young asked, “Maybe we should take a brownie home for unnie so she’s not sad we came here without her.”

“That’s a good idea. Do you know what she likes?”

“Definitely.” Sun-young made the selection, and the woman packed it up carefully, extending her sympathies when Jimin explained Hanbyul was sick. He didn’t fix the misconception earlier. It was wrong not to. He perpetuated a lie. He was pretending something, trying it on, something he didn’t have any right to yet. 

He felt the twinge of discomfort in his heart. Were things moving too quickly? Was it too soon? He had promised to love Subin his whole life, and now here he was letting this cafe woman believe that Hanbyul was his wife, Sun-young’s mother, all the things that Subin had actually been.

But alongside it was this fresh, slightly raw, new feeling. Like maybe those clothes could fit in time. Not yet, it was foreign and uncertain and scary but… but maybe he could get used to it. If Hanbyul could be patient with him

He had a feeling she would be.

“Maybe you can get unnie flowers too,” Sun-young suggested as they passed a woman selling bouquets on the corner as they crossed back to the park.

“I gave her flowers just a couple days ago.”

“Really?”

“Uh… yeah, you know, to thank her for helping out so much while I was sick. But then she was sick so I don’t think she can even enjoy them. Her nose isn’t working.”

“Maybe you should just ask unnie out on a date again.”

Jimin thought for sure he’d misheard her. He tripped on the curb as Hudu leapt ahead, barking at a squirrel. Sun-young dropped the leash and cried out, but Hudu immediately stopped and trotted right back, waiting patiently for Sun-young to pick the leash up again.

“What did you say?” Jimin asked, clearing the cough from his throat.

“Don’t you like her?”

“Hanbyul-ssi?”

“Yes.” Sun-young looked up at him with her big dark eyes, waiting expectantly.

“Of course, what’s not to like about her?” he returned, trying to sound casual.

“I know, and I think she likes us too and you already took her flowers so… I think it’s backwards? But I don’t really know anything about dating. I think you take her to see a movie now,” Sun-young suggested. As if she was really scraping her knowledge here to help her poor old appa who didn’t know anything about dating.

“You… would be ok with that?”

“I guess you can see a grownup movie I’m not old enough to watch anyway.”

But Jimin desperately wanted this permission that chance and the strange wandering mind of his daughter had brought him, so he pressed, “You would be ok if I went on a date with Hanbyul? If I… if we spent more time with her?”

“I know what dating is,” Sun-young scoffed. “I know when we went to see Mango Crush  it wasn’t even really a date because I was there so this time it can be just the two of you.” Jimin walked slowly, taking Hudu’s leash to pull him closer as some bicycles whizzed past and a bigger dog barked loudly. Hudu didn’t like it and stuck closer to Jiminn’s leg. He was thinking of what to say next.

Instead Sun-young asked, “Do you think it’s weird because it’s not eomma?”

“Weird isn’t the word I was thinking but… maybe. Do you think so?”

“No,” Sun-young said. He thought that was a strange answer and didn’t know whether to trust it.

“I miss your eomma every day,” he continued, “and I haven’t wanted to think about meeting someone new. No one can ever replace your eomma. She loved you so much. I loved her so much.”

“I know that.”

“So I just want to be careful. I don’t want to do anything that makes you and me sad. It’s hard to lose your eomma. It was hard for me to lose my wife.”

Sun-young pursed her lips in thought and it broke his heart, having such an adult conversation with a little girl. It was wrong what he’d said before. She didn’t have a little girl view of the world; she’d had to grow up very quickly in some ways. He just wanted to protect what little girl remained.

“I miss Eomma too, I wish she didn’t die. But I like doing things with unnie too. Is that ok?”

“It’s definitely ok.”

“Then why is it weird?”

“Just… because… I don’t know. Maybe it’s not weird,” he admitted because he didn’t know how to explain his complicated feelings and maybe he didn’t need to. If Sun-young didn’t have a hard time holding both Subin and Hanbyul in her heart, maybe he didn’t need to make it weird for her. If her feelings changed, if she felt different lately, well, they would work through that then. 

“Yeah, don’t make it weird, Appa, and don’t try to be funny and confuse her so she doesn’t know you’re asking her out. Unnie says when you are communicating something important, you have to be firm and clear and believe in yourself.”

“Are you… giving me advice on how to ask her out?”

“Yes!”

Jimin glared and assured her, “Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out. I’ve done this before.”

“With eomma? But that was so long ago.”

“Hey!”

“When we get home you can take Hudu and the brownie and I’ll run to our apartment so you have privacy,” Sun-young suggested.

“I’m not asking her out today! She’s sick!”

“But if you wait, Uncle Tae might ask her out! I think he likes her too.” 

And Namjoon and Jungkook Jimin internally grumbled.

“Don’t you worry about it.”

“Maybe I should help. I asked her out for Mango Crush.”

“Sunnie,” he stopped her right outside the building. “I’ve got this.”

She clapped her hands together and agreed, “That’s good, Appa, believe in yourself. I think she likes us a lot, I think she’ll say yes.”

He did not ask Hanbyul out, despite Sun-young’s eager questions as soon as he got back from returning Hudu and delivering the brownie. He tutted her away. Now he wondered if it would be better for her not to have known for a different reason. She might overwhelm Hanbyul. She might make Hanbyul feel rushed or pressured into something she didn’t actually want.

No, he had to trust Hanbyul in making her own decisions. He believed she would. And his heart did feel lighter about it all knowing he had Sun-young’s shockingly full support. 

Instead he waited until Sun-young had gone to bed to make the last phone call he needed to before he’d feel free to take the next step.

“Hey, Namjoon! I don’t want things to be awkward between us so I want to be upfront with you about my feelings for Hanbyul…”

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goodnight n go | one | pjm.

pairing. single dad! jimin x female teacher! reader

synopsis. jimin was a single dad of three and one unfortunate mishap caused him to meet you: his best friend’s coworker and daughter’s teacher. will feelings of petty loathing develop into something more?

genre/prompt. fluff, angst

word count. 4.3k

content. jimin is a pole dancer and has 3 kids as well as is 9 years older than oc. even if they’re both well over legal age, if that makes you uncomfortable, please consider not reading. thank you <3

writer’s note. I deleted it originally because I was unhappy with it as I wrote it when I was younger and didn’t have much experience in writing and my approach to it wasn’t as elaborate as the one I managed to develop all these months of practicing. so! here she is! she’s longer and has less parts so you won’t be annoyed with the constant changing haha. an important thing to note is that the oldest son’s name Songyoon was changed to Haneul, the little girl’s name Sooyeon was changed to Eunbyul, and the youngest’s name Sanghoon was changed to Hayun as their names were too similar and made it difficult to remember who was who. There was also many major plot changes as well as small ones, so it’s somewhat completely different to the earlier version. Anyways! Enjoy :)

parts. one / two

    The window curtains glittered under the moonlight’s loving, motherly kiss, this gentle caress closely similar to the unnaturally blond man’s embrace of a little girl–his precious little girl– in his arms. She was quite positively almost a copy of himself, down to his natural jet-black hair and plump, pink lips. The expensive curtains—most notably one of the most expensive things in the vicinity as what his little one wants his little one gets— danced with the wind let in by the open window softly, bringing the loud car horns and yelling of bustling city life with it. They’d been rendered to a simple ambient hum, considering how high up in the building they lived, however. The glitter scattered all throughout its length caused it to look like various constellations spread gracefully, causing his little one to refuse any other option that wasn’t it, unfortunately for his bank account. The neon lights of signs outside their New York City apartment, which would otherwise be annoying, entered only carefully tonight, as if to not disturb the gentle moment between the father and daughter.

“And so, the little princess was elated! The dragon had taken her to his cave filled with shiny little things all around, away from the princess life she hated.”

The raven-haired girl’s little eyes had shined in anticipation; the blonde man often mused it seemed like the night sky was trapped in her gaze since her birth, hence her name. She practically shook from excitement, her little brain unable wrap itself around how the princess pulled it all off so effortlessly! She didn’t know what to do with herself, so she clung to her dad’s silk night shirt as tight as her little fists would let her (which kind of hurt but he wasn’t going to stop her, he loved her too much to repress her). She liked to think of herself as close to that of a big, scary typhoon. He begged to differ with the more accurate description of the whirlpool one makes when circling their fingers in water repeatedly.

“The dragon taught her all she came to know! He taught her to read and write. Taught her to do basic things and they lived happily for just a few months. Then, the guards in the palace found her and came to get her! Do you know what they assumed, my beautiful little star?” Jimin had started looking at her fondly, the term of endearment coming out in their native tongue of Korean, accent prominently and endearingly laced in his English, soothing into every word he spoke. The nickname made her chest fill with warmth and her cheeks puff in reluctant happiness. No matter how many times her dear daddy would say it, it was her very own little term of endearment. Just for her and no one else. She loved it.

“That he was a big scary mean dragon! Right, daddy?!”

Jimin beamed at her intelligence. Then again, he does read her this story whenever she asks—and that’s nearly every weekend. He tickled her and held her tightly in his arms, her soft giggles reaching his ears just as the melodies he would dance to as a young boy would. Although he could still fit her in his arms, she was getting big. Give it two more years and he couldn’t do this anymore with her, hold her without difficulty and discomfort. The thought of such a cruel future made his heart sink a little. He had to stop himself often from thinking about how she would act when she became a teenager, it would be too much for his fragile heart to handle.

Jimin had always chastised her, as he was the only parent she had left. He took care of her and taught her valuable life lessons, sang her to sleep, and learned to make pretty hairstyles “just like a princess”, she’d say. He corrected her when needed as well as took on the role of both mother and father to her younger brother, Hayun (she preferred to call him Sunny after Jimin told her the meaning in English, which always made his heart melt), which was only a month old when their mother decided to pack her bags. Her older brother, although still a junior in high school, helped as much as he could to alleviate the toll that taking on both roles took on Jimin.

He was a great father, as one wouldn’t really expect. He was the right mixture of incredibly compassionate, well-humored, and empathetic with a dash of sternness to go along with it. He wasn’t a tyrant ruler, he listened to all three–well two, Hayun hasn’t even been able to string together a coherent longer-than-3-words sentence, only simple sentences, as a toddler does– and implemented all change that was agreed on by the majority. He always tried to pay equal attention to all of them, although most of it went to her younger brother. She didn’t mind though, she enjoyed playing with her older brother, Haneul. Jimin always packed him lunch, even as he whined that he didn’t have to do that, but he always enjoyed when he did it. She knew, noticing he always left to school with a small smile on his lips after.

Jimin has to assume complete responsibility once their… “mother” … turned up one day and decided she wanted nothing to do with her kids anymore. After taking her routine every night visit to the bar, she found someone older. Wealthier. “Much more fun” and “like you used to be before they showed up” she also gracefully added. Not like it was his fault he’d grown up once his first child was born, unlike her. Always looking for convenient fun, never tied down to anything. Proposing to her would just be in vain since it’s not like she would’ve accepted marriage anyway. Even during high school, when she first had come to him announcing her pregnancy, he knew how little care she held for him. She always thought of him as harmless fun, a man on the side and he couldn’t say the same of himself.  The first child was purely an accident, the other two was him desperately trying to convince himself it could all work out and she could change. After their third, he knew how wrong he was. He held feelings for her at one point, although, with time, it all disappeared. He could only hold feelings of loathing towards her at that point. She thought of the kids as nuances. She got sick of it. Sick of him. Sick of having just one person to kiss. She couldn’t be tied down, but just because he knew that, it didn’t mean it hurt any less. She’d left once Hayun was born, but Eunbyul didn’t know why. She always thought she didn’t love them anymore after seeing her mom with a man that looked uglier than her daddy for sure, but she seemed happy. Her mom said something to her before she’d left, looked at her weird, and screamed at her dad some more, but she couldn’t remember what it was. Often, she’d ponder when her mommy was coming back. Well, not like she could, anyway. They did move across the globe after, from Busan to New York, with no way to contact them. She didn’t mind not having a mommy for now, though, it’s not like she was ever home before anyway. It was always comfortable with daddy.

“Daddy! Please continue the story! Why’d you stop?! Pleeeeeeease…!” She pouted and looked up at him with those puppy eyes children knew to use when they wanted something to make their parents cave in fast in response to his hesitance to continue the story, her fake tiara skewing just a little to the side. One day, he’ll buy her a new one. One with diamonds and various other gems. His features seemed to light up and playfully mirror her own, his nose scrunching up as well. She, of course, as a sensitive, princess-y 4-almost-5-year-old, did not know how to differentiate someone being mean between someone playing, so she smacked him on the shoulder as hard as she could in her blind anger. Jimin yelped at the contact and sobered up, expression turning stern. Had she messed up? Did she do something wrong? Daddy’s face did the same face he always did when he was mad at her for doing something wrong. Eyes sharp. Lips in a straight line. Eyebrows drawn together.

“Eunbyul, you can’t hit anyone ever, you hear me? Especially me...” His voice was stern, but less confident as he trailed off. One look in her eyes and one could easily tell she was on the verge of tears. Why had the atmosphere changed so much? Why did the breeze still? Why was it so hot all of a sudden, but just on her face? Her tears were almost spilling out of her doe eyes, so his expression softened and panic flashed through his face. He had too soft a spot for her.

“...Not without expecting payback!” He announced out as a save and initiated a tickle attack by removing his arms supporting her back and wiggling them on her sides, causing a sea of reluctant giggles and laughter to erupt from her lips, tears of sadness now turned into ones of happiness. A wave of relief passed through her consciousness. He wasn’t mad at her anymore!

After he stopped tickling and her giggles piped down, he took her in his arms again and minimally rocked her back and forth again, attempting to continue the story. She gazed into his eyes. There, were two crescent moons filled with stars picked carefully right from the universe. They held warm nights of him wrapped in a blanket and always holding her in his arms while rocking her back and forth, looking back at her like she was his most valuable treasure. Nights of drinking lukewarm chocolate and sharing it with her while telling her countless stories he remembered or made up, her brother’s occasional snorting making her giggle. Those crescent pools of love staring right back at her with so much fondness, she couldn’t not trust him. He loved what he created with every inch of his being, even if she resembled her mother somewhat. She never felt so safe in any other person’s hold, even in Haneul’s. She felt safe and happy, sure, but not to the extent of her dad’s.

Pouting and closing his eyes as well as lifting his head up high in mocked snub, he opened one of his closed eyes.

“Well, if you’re done being rude, I’d like to finish this story for this week.”

A beat of silence went by as she looked at him with slight shame and tucked her head against his armpit. He sighed, breathily chuckled and shook his head slightly.

“You were right, princess. They did think he was a big, mean, and scary dragon that took the pretty little princess as his own treasure! The princess came back from getting berries just before the guards decided to kill the dragon!”

A gasp. A smile.

“She explained what happened and the guards decided to keep to themselves that they had seen the princess. The dragon and the princess lived what, my little star?”

“Happily ever after, right, daddy?!” She looked at her dad excitedly, completely engrossed in the story despite it being probably the hundredth time he told it to her since her birth.

A pause.

“That’s right, my love. The end…”

Although little Eunbyul understood simple Korean, she could barely speak it. Jimin planned on teaching her a little more down the line. Now, she barely understood some of the words, any longer than two syllables being too dang hard for her little brain to grasp at this late hour, right before her bedtime, but she didn’t care at this time. Not when his soothing voice graced her ears with the background noise only that of the far away beep of cars, the rhythmic rumbling in his chest every time he’s uttered a word soothing her to sleep. As she laid there in his arms, fast asleep, little snores leaving her nose, all that was in his mind was how he could never bear losing her.

He felt absolutely heartbroken and stressed, raising three kids on his own was unbearably hard. He loved them so much he had to look for a job in this new country. A job that paid well but let him work while the kids were asleep so he could care for them while they were awake.

He also made friends with his co-workers and shift manager, so it wasn’t too bad re-adjusting. They barely hired new employees since they had a very high criteria, so he barely had to deal with new hires that made his job harder. His kids are growing up, though. He knew that.  He feared they would leave like their mother did almost two years ago, so he’d decided to enjoy them and raise them as well as he could while it lasted. He was scared they’d decide they were sick of him just like she did. Irrational since his kids shared a strong bond with him and each other, but valid.

Jimin got up, arms still wrapped around her, she was growing and he could no longer able to hold her like how he used to. He moved the covers to make place for her and gently laid her down, taking her plastic tiara off her head. Covering her and laying a gentle kiss on her forehead, tears dangerously threatened to spill. The moonlight hit his face, making his eyes’ shine intensify into thousand galaxies in his beautiful, soft chocolate eyes as he got up to turn off her mermaid lamp.

“Sleep tight my little universe,” he chokingly whispered as tears freely fell from his eyes.

An abrupt sound made way to his ears and he turned around, finding his sixteen-year-old son holding Sunghoon. Jimin vigorously wiped his tears and gave Haneul a weak and quivering smile. The boy moved to put down the toddler he was holding in his crib and turned on the mobile, then mouthed to his father if he was okay, used to him being bubbly and strong for them, though it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d seen him cry. He took the role of confidant, listening to his father whenever he let himself be anything less than closed. He always looked so small, like a little boy. It always scared him. This wasn’t his big and amazing role model of a dad, was it? The one he bragged about to all his friends and anyone who would listen? Would he become like that, too? Out of the three kids, he was the one who remembered his mother the clearest, having been fourteen. He despised her, to put it nicely. He was the one that got to see to the extent that that woman caused their father to feel anguish, he got to know what not being loved by his mother was like.

Nodding, he ushered his oldest son out the room, more unrestrained tears rolled down his tear-stained cheeks. No matter how vigorously he wiped at them, they’d come back anyway, so maybe he should give up on wiping his tears just as he’d given up on trying to make his relationship work. It didn’t help that Haneul was the spitting image of his mother, either. Haneul wanted to press on, to question him and help him, but he decided to leave it. Glancing at both of his younger siblings sleeping, he decided maybe some things were better left unsaid. He slowly made his way to the door and once he reached it, pat his dad in the back and continued to his room. As Jimin tried to control his upcoming violent sobs, he shut the door behind him.

He couldn’t do this alone anymore. It was too much. He needed someone there.

   The cool autumn wind blew against Jimin’s cheek as he shook his hair to clear his fringe from his eyes. He brought his dainty hands into his jacket pockets as he puffed out air. While his breath may not have been visible, it sure as hell felt like it could be.

It was cold as fuck, to put it simply. Having a car would be absolutely beautiful right now, but circumstances really don’t line up with his wishes on the regular. He always kept forgetting to look into which car he would like best and to go purchase it, but the subways facilitated his route home and to work somewhat. His life would improve tenfold once he remembers to buy a car. He was very forgetful since there’s only so much he can keep up with, his brain take up with his three kids and problems. He could do that in the three days he had left, he guesses. Maybe tomorrow if he sets a reminder, even, would he be able to get a car. Before he left, he had saved up money for a living space able to hold all 4 of them and a mode of transportation. He could get rid of his subway card and buy a car or something, anything but dealing with the surplus of rats and drunkards at the time he used it. His credit wasn’t bad either, which could probably lower his purchase a little. His oldest used the same transportation he did, but he just wanted to drive his kids to school in the mornings and drop them off. Even more so, Eunbyul was starting school in just a few days, so he couldn’t afford to just walk her to school as it was half an hour away from their apartment building or even use public transport. It just didn’t feel right to him. All those cute hairstyles he planned on doing on her would be ruined by the time they got there.

Jimin kept pacing along the sidewalk towards the apartment complex where his kids are expected to be sleeping. Expected. It was 1:05 A.M., after all. A father can only hope his children listened well to him. He could probably assume Haneul was studying or something and the other two were knocked out, children being unable to be awake for very long.

He sighed as he scratched his itching nose and gazed around the well-near-empty streets, save the occasional drunk or workers of the same hours as himself.

Work was everything but slow, as always. Obviously, as an exotic dancer, he should’ve expected that. He really thought he’d made it clear to the manager that he had to be home early to put his kids to bed and give Eunbyul her first out of five pep talks before she starts kindergarten for the first time ever in a week, but maybe he didn’t remember. He’ll put his money on that, Seokjin was always preoccupied with everything in the club and the additional two other locations. Being a considerate manager and good owner is hard work, after all. His forgetfulness caused Jimin to be overbooked and end his shift two hours later than he’d requested. At least he was getting paid very well for that, anyway, so he had next to no complaints.

Checking his phone, he saw 5 collective texts from his friends, Yoongi and Taehyung. These were two childhood best friends of his, every summer when he would visit his grandma in Seoul he would hang out with them. They were both neighbors from Daegu and would go to Seoul for the summer for the same reason Jimin did which caused his grandmother to meet them. A chance encounter leading to a life-long friendship. Taehyung, however, moved away to become an art major at NYU and Yoongi had followed behind, falling victim to Taehyung’s prettily warpped descriptions of the city. He was a kindergarten teacher and assumed the same role in the states and Taehyung became a critically acclaimed, wildly successful painter. Taehyung actually had children of his own in his time in New York and his twins were the same age as Eunbyul. He, however, was married to their mother, and happily too. For that, he always felt jealousy, despite not wanting to.

Tapping the notification to see all the texts displayed, he saw Yoongi whining about the fact that the first day of school is way too close for comfort and Taehyung’s smiley face reply to Jimin’s own “i’m going home now, if i don’t text you that i’m home within 20 minutes, use find my friends to go after me”. Nothing out of the ordinary. He lived in a crime-filled part of town. He was saving up to be able to buy either a nice enough house close to the school or an apartment of the same caliber in cash. Mortgages seemed messy to him, in all and he was frankly scared to do it.

Now, Yoongi’s whining is normal, but now it has increased tenfold as the news of him getting an assistant teacher was broken to him. Yoongi felt as though the school was insulting his ability to teach by putting another adult in the classroom (they’d assured that he needed an extra hand in the classroom as there were more kids than before in his class–he called bullshit though), but nonetheless, all Jimin could hope for is that he doesn’t “accidentally” show up to class with vodka in a water bottle again. Not after what happened last time.

Locking his phone and walking faster, his longing for the warmth of what he liked to call his “luxury” apartment shining through and suddenly beginning to be extremely prominent which resulted in a whine of I-have-to-walk-like-five-more-steps-to-get-inside-so-life-isn’t-fair escapes Jimin. He stared ahead, gaze landing on the once-silver gate. It was once beautiful, but since the new owners bought it, they paid no attention to outside view, or so he was told by the old lady next door, Janet. They knew everyone went there for the cheap prices anyway, she’d sigh. He really had to move into a house or something. He already had the money for a nice enough house or better apartment where all 4 of them could live happily though his job. Maybe he could look for a house only a few minutes away from the school. Mental note: look for house around school.

Quickly opening and speed walking to the elevator, he checked his phone once again. More drunk texts from the absolute best friend that he loves so very much in this very moment, Yoongi. He really did take his devastation seriously, as he shared a selfie with him and vodka with a text after saying “my news befrenddf!!!!!!!!”. Jimin let out a huff of amusement and disbelief. The man was almost in his late 30s and he still acted like he could be the age of his students.

The unlocking to the apartment was bittersweet. Suppressed memories always seemed to float into his conscious one by one when coming through the door, when silence and darkness met him. That house of cards-like mirage he’d fabricated all on his own tormented him because how could he be so stupid and naïve to believe two children would fix their doomed relationship. He was never happy, not after she barely showed up at home after giving birth. Not after she’d come home often with the stench of alcohol, cigarettes, and sex on her. She was the one who could never be a parent. The one that selfishly left when offered money and riches. The one who didn’t even think twice about accepting the offer. The one that left him for a richer man despite their various kids. The one he’d had to lie to his daughter about when asked of. The one that never thinks of her own kids and has started a new life with brand new kids and husband. The one that’s too late to fix things. The one he and his teenage son loathe with every fiber of their being.

He really had to move away to a nicer place. Sighing, he dragged his boot cladded feet along the living room towards his room to begin his night routine. His two jobs relied on his face and his body, so taking care of both was extremely important, mental stability somewhat important too. He kicked off his shoes and snaked out of his clothes, took his pj’s, and padded towards the bathroom. The most relaxing parts of the day for him were most simply when he saw his kids in the morning and taking a shower after being in a packed and hot night club, full of dried sweat which gave him a not-so-pleasant stench. Eunbyul just knew her daddy was a dancer; she didn’t need to know the explicit details. At least not until the age of thirteen, or maybe older (he hoped), when her very own older brother found out.

He scrubbed every inch of his body until his skin turned red because god, he could not stand the stench just rolling off him in waves. Now, he was fine. He was happy, scent of the bubblegum body wash Eunbyul insisted on buying filling his senses. He was finally home, and his daughter was turning a new chapter in her life. She was going to learn how to read and he would teach her the same things he’d taught her brother. How he loved that, the feeling of satisfaction reached after your child now knows something they didn’t before. He loves the way her eyes light up when she learns something. He loves it all, and he hopes it’ll last forever.

He remembered he should probably invest in a car and a house closer to the school, a 30-minute walk was no joke. He finally dragged his fatigued fingers to set the reminder.

© princegguk — all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any medium and translations are not allowed.

goodnight n go | pjm. | two

pairing. single dad! jimin x female teacher! reader

synopsis. jimin was a single dad of three and one unfortunate mishap caused him to meet you: his best friend’s coworker and daughter’s teacher. will feelings of petty loathing develop into something more?

genre/prompt. fluff, angst

word count. 4.7k

content. nothing bad besides some cursing

writer’s note. I finally managed to write this part omg 😭😭😭 This part came out a hell of a lot long after the first, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! I'm a student so finding time to write os really hard. I made time and finished this at 23:47 so really I should go to sleep now🚶‍♂️🚶‍♂️🚶‍♂️Hope you like it! If you read the original texts, then there will be a lot of changes since I can like write better than I used to 2 years ago, not to toot my own horn or anything💀💀Anyways this is getting long, so last thing. Remember that Jimin calls his daughter terms of endearment in Korean, a.k.a words in Korean are bolded. That's all. Thank u :)

parts. one / two / three

     Okay, picture this: the chirping of birds is a calming indicator that another wonderful and amazing chapter in the billions of books of life everyone owns has started. Your personality consisted of just sickening optimism and morning person qualities. Sunshine optimism and hopeful prayers. Your motto consisted of “Why be a grouch when you can, like, not do that!”, which confused people who asked or didn’t ask alike, but the point is that you’re like, a glitter gel pen personified. Your optimism was magnified by like 100x recently as you’d gotten a job at your local elementary school, the one you’d went to when you were, well, 5-11. Years ago, but hey! That’s not the point, because at least you have a job.

     Your alarm went off at 7 and you were up at exactly 7:01. Today was your first day and being late wasn’t exactly on your calendar of optimism. You put a smile on your face, as optimists do, and padded towards the bathroom, not forgetting to say hello and good morning to the various plants scattered throughout your room, as happy people do. By 8:20 you had finished in the bathroom and moved on to your outfit, a pencil skirt and long-sleeved white dress shirt seemed appropriate and stereotypical for you to wear on your first day teaching a bunch of little droplets of morning dew and sunshine. The fact that they are the future of humankind excites you, you got to mold their wonderful and complex little minds into the right path and into success. You laced the red bow that went around the collar of the shirt.

     Queue the record scratch. What a fucking joke. Okay. Let’s get to the real you, shall we? You were more like, a glitter gel pen that barely had any ink, but somehow is still your favorite pen so you rub it between your palms as long as you can, so the drying ink warms up again and writes. But you give up and resort to a black pen. Elaborate, but one gets it when they’ve met you long enough and you word out that exact comparison. Work you and outside you were two completely different beings, the glitter gel pen ideally writes great at work, but at home or outside you just switch to the black-inked, more practical pen. Can pens feel emotion? At this point you were too scared and apathetic to find out anyway. The plant part is true, obviously, because you’re not a monster. They didn’t ask to be birthed into this home, so you had to make their stay as wonderful as you could. You tell your plants what others will never know and what they should but won’t.

    Your alarm might go off at 6:30 because you just know you need at least thirty minutes to decide whether going anywhere was worth it. For the record, it is, since you’re getting paid and all. So, by 8:30, you’re ready to drive for 15 minutes to the school you work at now, for some reason. You loved kids to an extent sure, but teaching them? Having to be at the disposal of their grubby and somehow sickeningly sticky little hands and questionable stains? Who gave you the idea you could make it? Oh, right: Namjoon Kim, your childhood best friend and the vice principal of the same school you were starting at. You thank your lucky stars that you were friends and got along with Namjoon through your brother even with the ten-year age gap, as he was able to get you a job easily teaching a kindergarten class with some poor soul when you were right out of college. Lord Namjoon was so merciful in everything. He taught you everything you knew about handling those little gremlins and helped you through most of your college assignments. Ugh, smart king.

    It’s not like you didn’t want to be a teacher. It’s just you would’ve preferred not to, but Namjoon was so convincing (Seriously, who was his speech and debate teacher? They truly need a raise) that you decided on being a teacher. You never really knew what to do in your life, never reaqlly having the outstanding passion for a certain subject or hobby others did. An overall average, and you were happy with that. You took Namjoon’s initiative and landed somewhere you were at least not considered a disappointment.

    You locked the apartment door after giving yourself a once over in the mirror next to your door to make sure you don’t completely look like you ate shit last night and got a wicked hangover on your first day. A simple light sweater and the only pair of unripped, light-washed jeans you had could do the trick of making them believe you were truly an optimistic, good person. As much as kids are concerned, anyway. You were good so far, the Advils you’d taken once you could tear yourself away from the motherly embrace of your bed doing their intended job. The instructions you received were to get there after drop-off since you had to be introduced to the kids, which ended at 8:00, so you were in absolutely no haste to get there. The elevator dinged and you automatically got off, still having your eyes locked onto your screen, some twitter fight going on that you were absolutely elated to be the spectator of, despite vehemently always denying you hated them. A few words and you could get everyone at each other’s throats—it was hilarious. Of course, you weren’t saying anything bad, you aren’t a shit person. You just insult and start a discussion on their favorite character and everyone takes sides, doing the fighting on their own. You were so focused that you didn’t notice the body making its way to the direction you were coming from on the same path as you, who was equally into his phone for a whole different reason than you were. His daughter really was one of the biggest lights of his life. And even as they got nearer and nearer they didn’t notice each other. Only a catastrophe would happen if this continued. Oh…! And a catastrophe did happen, who would’ve thought?

    The clash of the two bodies was unceremoniously saddening to see, one would’ve whole-heartedly preferred to see it happen in the romantic way, but alas! That was not the luck that met the teacher and the male in expensive designer brands gifted to him by hopeful patrons. Instead, the fated ones met at an unfortunate sequence of an iced americano volcano, as it somehow managed to slash towards the roof. C’mon, how creative is this? The mishap had somehow gone in slow motion for you, as the stain-y brown liquid had splashed all over the front of your sweater and shoes. That finally caused you to look up from your phone, discourse now completely forgotten.

    “What the fuck, asshole! Look where you’re going! Oh fuck, dude–holy shit my sweater.”

    Your eyes squinted and shot daggers at his form, which annoyingly got three droplets of coffee on his own shirt. You whined in discontent.

    “Well, it’s not entirely my fault! You weren’t looking where you were goi—aww man! My shirt…” he trailed off with a frown mixed with a pout, the English laced with some remnants of an accent you were currently too occupied to pin-point. His voice and body itself would’ve made your body light up with desire in any other scenario, but not this one. No amount of hot will quell the absolute rage you felt for this very could-probably-be-a-model-if-he-wasn’t-already man right now. The front desk lady looked up, smiled at the scene, and looked back down at her gossip magazine. She flipped a page, waiting for you to leave while obviously holding in some laughter that wanted to escape. Poor unfortunate souls. Yeah, she kinda looked like Ursula.

    You scoffed in disbelief at not only his audacity, but hers as you got a text. You were seething as the man inspected his shirt and the miniscule-looking stains. As if he should be the one distraught: the whole front of your sweater was completely soaked with the dripping brown liquid. Nevertheless, you looked at your phone and saw it was Namjoon asking where you were and that you had 10 minutes before you were considered late and penalized, because who the fuck is late on their first day? Probably you. He also decided to include that your co-teacher was getting more and more agitated every moment that passed, grumbling about how it was never a good idea. You took a few seconds to calm your rising sea of emotions, and, after glaring at him for a few seconds as he remained completely oblivious to you, you smiled politely. The lord was testing you, but what’s new about that? You were known to have a short temper and were you pissed.

    “Quite frankly, I hope you have the money to pay for my ruined sweater? Coffee stain are an absolute nightmare to get out of clothes, don’t you know? As a coffee drinker, I quite understand. I see you didn’t mean to bump into me, and I get it. Unfortunately, I need reparations, man.” You finished with twitching smile, attempting to be as understanding as you could.

    The man stared you down with a dumbfounded expression, clearly turning into a “are you dumb?” expression with time as he grasped you were serious.

    “Just throw it in the washing machine as fast as you can like I am, babe. Relax, it’s no biggie.” He replied, then turned on his heel. He walked into the open elevator and left before you could snap out of your own dumbfounded expression.

    Your brain finally caught up with the situation and you calmed yourself from only seeing red. How dare that insolent man?! You let out some curses directed at him and ill hopes on his well-being with some air-punching gestures before you calmed down. You cheked the time and you had just 5 minutes left, which caused a cold jolt of anxiety to run up your entire body. You ran up the stairs back to your apartment continuing your directed muttered curses and the next thing you knew you had a different dress shirt on. You didn’t have time to save your sweater, so goodbye to it it was. Your rush time had gone by like a blur, all you could feel as you entered your apartment and left for your car was pure panic and distress. You shot Namjoon a quick text to inform him of your status, making sure to trash talk the rude man as much as you could, and drove as fast as you could to the school, barely making it by the time margin. It’s almost scary how a 15-minute commune turned into 4 minutes. Don’t try this at home.

    To describe your first day of teaching as a smooth sail would be an absolute and utter lie. The description was more like “several calms before several storms one after the other” and by pick-up at 2:00 p.m., you were absolutely worn out. The two troublemakers you could pin-point straight away from the bunch were from this trio consisting of two girls and a boy.

    The boy, named Julian, went along with everything and only nodded or shook his head as well as followed silently and uttered maybe one or two words the whole day. One girl which agreed with everything thrown at her and had absolutely no means to formulate her own opinions, named Aria and the twin sister of Julian, had curly brown-almost-black hair and childish innocence in her eyes which she turned against you when she asked double-edged questions.

    The one with the more confident and assertive nature, named Eunbyul, had a jet-black bob as well as a fiery determination to absolutely ruin your life in her eyes and she had decided to do everything in her power to absolutely annoy you.

Run with a pencil in her hand? Check.

    Throwing a staged tantrum if you tried to even take her first-day introductory assignment from her momentarily? Check.

    Not letting you sharpen her pencil even though she needed to and she sure as hell wasn’t allowed to on her own? Probably, a quadruple check. You stopped counting at the third.

    In conclusion, she made sure you knew she disliked you. She in no way allowed you to help her in anything, turning her rotten glare into a tooth-rotting smile whenever your co-teacher was around. Speaking of, he absolutely did not make anything better. His constant breathing down your back and criticism of even the smallest things you did or didn’t do made you want to tear every single hair follicle of yours out one by one.

    In conclusion for the second time, today was a shitty day and you hoped to finish without any more inconveniences, neither minor nor, god forbid, major. You sure did hope so! But, uhhhh, you’re not really the dieties’ favorite, to say the least.

    Car-related movement from outside caught your attention as you graded the kids’ first day assignments- scribbles really, but you commend them for trying their best– and you looked up at the same time as the The Royalty Trio, or TRT, as you dubbed the three trouble-makers—after further observing towards their interactions with the other kids in the playground. Them and two other kids were left to be picked up as the parents confirmed they were running late and you didn’t mind staying longer than needed with your co-teacher (who seemed to be fine with you the closer it got to pick-up, which was a relief really because one more “You’re saying it wrong” and you just might’ve strangled him in front of the children, professionality be damned), but TRT made your extra time as unenjoyable as it was enjoyable. Sometimes they were nice in a way and then would ruin it by taking a jab at something.

    As two engines sounded in the parking lot from two different colored SUV’s that looked like they probably belong to a DILF—what? Couldn’t you dream? —, the twins seemed to know what was going on. Catching on, you asked, “Hey, is that your parent?” and only received a tight nod from the boy and a reluctant sigh. They knew you were going to tell on them and you sure hoped it worked to stop them.

    Alas! Maybe a DILF has appeared as you look through the front window of the white SUV, but the black SUV’s owner was not a DILF. It was a different man. Not just any man. THE man. Your blood boiled as soon as you caught a glimpse of his Gucci and Channel bullshit topped up with a bow of leather jacket and Doc Martens. He dared look this good after he unintentionally dumped his coffee on you?! Your slight, undeniable drop of attraction dried up when you realized the asshole didn’t even apologize this morning, and something you absolutely hated was wrong doers with no remorse. The absolute stinking nerve! Next to him, the—actual, because fuck that guy—DILF emerged from the other car of the same model and color, just as stupidly gorgeous as the asshat, his curly dark hair bouncing as he walked with the confidence of a runway model after shutting the door of the Cadillac. He was also noticeably taller than the BCAG, Blonde Coffee Asshole Guy for short, and was way better, in your opinion. Yes, you were creative in naming. No, you weren’t holding a grudge over him. What ever gave you that idea? Shut up.

    The Royalty Trio ran in the direction of the Greek God In Human Form and the other guy. The twins jumped into the open arms of the aforementioned Greek God and Eunbyul ran into the arms of the fucking guy. Life sure is funny. You had to stop yourself from letting out an incredulous ‘of course’ and fit of laughter out loud, lest you be labeled crazy. He was crouching and had his arms extended in order to receive the full blow of the absolute bear hug that was going to ensue and all you could think was ‘that’s cute but fuck that guy”. Your co-teacher, Yoongi, smiled widely and warmly at the two men and stepped forward once he noticed their presence, getting up from his desk where he told you he was double checking the lesson plans. You swore you caught him scrolling through Twitter and Instagram at least thrice, but the blush he let out each time propelled you to forgive him because, shit, who wouldn’t?

    “Well if it isn’t Tweedledum and Tweedledee. Finally decided to stop by and pick up your kids?” he paused and looked at the two cars, “Oh? I see you got an actual car Jimbo. Fu…Freaking sick dude now you won’t die walking home after you shift.”

    The men looked up from their own little ones and smiled at Yoongi, seemingly at the same time. You made eye-contact with the BCAG and his eyes noticeably widened in recognition. That’s right, fate absolutely despises you. It just spit on you and called you a delusional dumbass. “There’s no way this day could end well, bitch. Suck it up.” It said. And suck it up you did.

…Ish.

    You narrowed your eyes into slits at “Jimbo”–dumb name for a dumb asshole– and stood from your seat at the teacher’s desk to... “talk”. You walked as though a lion stalking a prey, but nonetheless. Yoongi took notice of your approaching presence and smiled, a soft cringe in his features as he took in your clearly pissed disposition.

    “Ah, this is ______, the newbie who teaches with me now. _______, this is Mr. Kim,” he pointed at the DILF, “and this is Mr. Park.” So that’s the evil-doer’s name. Jimbo would’ve fit him more because at least it would’ve been dumb. Like him. Yeah, you’re never letting go of that grudge.

    Mr. Kim smiled kindly and shook your hand, melting you into a puddle. “Please, call me Taehyung and call him Jimin. You’d make us feel old!” He laughed. If you hadn’t melted into a puddle before, you sure did now. His baritone voice traveled from your linked hands up your body his equally attractive laugh gracing your ears like the finest orchestra.

    “Pleased to meet you!” Jimin’s eyes turned into crescents as he extended his arm and smiled at you. You narrowed your eyes, but smiled back, the murder in your eyes still prevalent.

    “We keep meeting! Seems like the universe doesn’t want to take back its misfortune.” He visibly faltered at your statement; the other two guys left in shock. How did you guys know each other?

    “Maybe if you had looked where you were going, then there wouldn’t have been any misfortune,” he stated frowning, somehow not grasping how it was equal parts his fault. You let out an exasperated sigh. You said it several times and you’ll say it again: the fucking audacity of this dude.

    “Well, jacka…” you trained off, remembering there were kids in the room. You composed yourself and continued. “Dude, maybe if you were looking where you were going that incident wouldn’t have happened, either! It’s equal parts our fault Also! You were left unscathed! The whole front of my sweater was completely messed up! Sasha’s beyond repair!”

    “Well, I got three stains on my silk shir—wait you named your sweater Sasha.” He interrupted himself as his brain caught up with your statement and sent you a deadpan look. You squinted your eyes and scoffed.

    “Yeah? So? You got something to say about Sasha, bro?” You said childishly. He rolled his eyes.

    The other two men seemed stunned at your back and forth that lasted maybe 7 minutes tops. You finally breathed to calm yourself down after his last blame on you and looked at everyone in the room. The kids were confused, the grown-ups mirroring the same sentiment and expression, unknowing whether to step in or not. If the question they held from before wasn’t answered before, it sure was now.

    “I’m sorry for getting so worked up. That was really unprofessional of me,” you stated, acting the bigger person. For once. “Moving on from that, if we may, Mr. Park,” He rolled his eyes and his dumb handsome face with a light scowl at the fact that you were acting like you were the bigger person. Which you were, obviously. “I would really like to speak to both of you, actually, about your kids’ behavior in the classroom.”

    You paused, both men’s expression sobering. They gave their kids a side eye and looked at you with questioning gazes. So much attention directed at you waiting for you to speak caused your face to grow hot. God, you hated attention. Yoongi stuttered mid nod while addressing them as well, still thinking about what they’ve done to grant an impromptu conference. Recognition sparked across his face and his expression turned strict. You took their silence as encouragement to continue.

    “They are not amicable to others on the playground, to say the least. It’s only the first day, but we’ve already watched them shove and scream at several of their classmates.” You spared a glance at the bashful three and continue. “They’ve also been awfully uncooperative and impolite towards… staff.”

    You didn’t want to sound like you were complaining and whining or something, but you still felt like a 3-year-old complaining to an adult that another kid was being mean to them. You pride yourself in being independent and having no regrets towards anything you did. You had over a dozen sessions where ink was added to your body and not one did you regret or fret over because they made you who you are. Not once did you ask your parents for help after moving out, you helped them sometimes, actually. You prided yourself in that. But these kids made your day hell, they made you feel incompetent. One of the things you also prided yourself in was your skills with young children and how easily you could make them like you and confide in you because you just gave off that vibe, as you’ve been told. And to have them disprove your pride? That shit hurts.

    The two men widened their eyes, immediately kneeling to eye level with their kids once again.

    “Is that true you guys?” asked Jimin.

    “No-” “Yeah, we’re sorry”, Eunbyul started to say, only to be cut off by Julian. Something you saw quite a lot is that he hated to be reprimanded and caved into even the smallest amounts of pressure. He was a great kid, just hung around bad influences. But leading the girls into the right path wasn’t completely out of the question. They’re young and that means they’re easily impressionable, so if you can help them be better, now would be the best time. Eunbyul scowled at Julian but teared up at the furrowed brows her dad was giving her. She was ready toile and render her teacher a liar, which made things even worse for her. You couldn’t believe he was capable of being a good father.

Actually…

    That’s a lie, you can admit that to yourself. Just because he managed to be a somewhat shitty person doesn’t mean that he’s completely shitty in all aspects. One can be the biggest villain, but still a great parent. You chastised yourself for thinking so negatively of him. He simply dropped coffee on you, you came to terms with. It’s not like it was on purpose.

    “I can’t believe you, Eunbyul. What about the talk I gave you? Haven’t I always told you to be kind to others, strangers and people you see every day alike? Where did that all go? And lying too? To my face? Don’t even think that I didn’t notice you saying no!”

    If he started barking in the middle of his sentence, you wouldn’t have noticed. A pin-drop could be heard in the room. Taking about the room, you looked around. The other two kids seem to have been picked up if Yoongi’s returning form wasn’t of any clue. You took time to study their faces. Taehyung’s eyebrows furrowed too, his face turned into a frown. The kids looked down, the only indicator that they were crying would be a whimper if it escaped them. Jimin mirrored Taehyung’s face, but with deeper feeling. He was more passionate about the subject at hand than Taehyung, that much you could tell.

    “I’m really disappointed in you guys, especially you Eunbyul. You’re the oldest, you should set an example to those younger than you.”

    You flinched at the word. Disappointed. It scared you to hear that word, too much trauma behind it than you’d like to unpack. The same words your parents would use throughout elementary, high school, and university when they knew you were studying teaching and not medicine or law. Something that actually gave you money and helped you succeed in life. It was a heavy word, especially for a mere child, so you jumped in once he finished. You weren’t sure whether it was in your place, but you just couldn’t let him. It was perfectly fine to say that word, sure, but the negative feelings behind it forced you to open your mouth.

    “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think? Their behavior can be fixed, it’s nothing to really stress over. Tomorrow morning we can have them apologize to all they were mean to and I’m sure it’ll be fine,” you tried to recover. The word disappointed definitely struck something in all of them, their threatening tears now slowly streaming down their small faces. Their faces contorted to stop the obvious whaling they wanted to let out. Eunbyul seemed to be shaking from how hard she tried to stop her crying. The mention of apologizing in front of their parents to other kids with their parents made them whimper collectively.

    Jimin seemed to understand your point and sighed. He seemed tired, was tired. All of what he’d taught his daughter and the rest of his kids all their lives left to nothing? Hearing that his kid bullies others and isn’t a model student definitely hurt him. He can understand that now. This was the first time he’d had to reprimand any of his kids this way. Haneul was an angel child, the best in everything including behavior and always getting compliments left and right, his friend circle enormous as it translated throughout all his life so far. But this was to be expected. Haneul had two parents growing up giving him attention and nurturing him, he got that. Eunbyul, however, had only him and her older brother. She’d even told him once that she could barely remember her own mom, and sometimes overhearing her crying for her mom at night. He couldn’t bear one more “mommy…?” when he woke her up from her nightmares. It all hurt. It also hurt to see his princess crying.

    His eyes were noticeably red, definitely with the intention of bursting into tears, but he breathed and let the tears go away. He gently began stroking his daughter’s hair, urging her to calm down.

    “Don’t ever do it again, okay? No matter who it is, you have to be nice, little star.”

    You could make out a nod before he separated himself and smiled at her. Your eyes trailed to Taehyung where he had his hands on both the twin’s shoulder, quietly scolding but reassuring them.

    Jimin turned to you abashedly and smiled after Eunbyul told him everything that she’d done that day. He’d apologized on her behalf with a blush that made him look as though the very cherry blossoms in the playground had landed on his cheeks. He also apologized for his childish behavior. Yeah, maybe coffee guy wasn’t so bad after all.

    “I’m sorry they were trouble to you. I’m also sorry about your sweater. I assume you live in the same building as me, right? Let me take you to the mall as an apology, Miss _______.” He smiled charmingly, truly apologetic. Maybe this Park dude isn’t so bad.

“You owe me a coffee, though.”

… not.

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