Single Father Jimin - Tumblr Posts
Single father!Jimin
Single father! Jimin x teacher reader
Genre: um fluff (?)
Warnings: none just so many jimin feels
Summary: Jimin is a single father and you are his daughter's teacher. He can't help but flirt with you, because you're really attractive and you can't help it either, for the same reason.
A/N:If you asked me which member seems most likely be a single parent, I would say jimin, idk he just gives me this vibe lol
Word count: 575
“Jisoo-ah, it’s not going to be that bad. You’ll just be here for a few hours, then daddy will pick you up.” Jimin tried to comfort his crying daughter.
“Oh, who is this? Are you Jisoo?” I bent next to the small girl, excited to meet the new student.
The small girl nodded, wiping her tears with the back of the small fists and hid her face in her daddy’s neck.
“Aw, it’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m teacher (y/n). I’m really good and I can scare away all the monsters, I promise.” I added with a giggle, trying not to come off as scary to the shy girl.
“Jisoo, daddy has to leave now, but you shouldn’t worry, teacher (y/n) is really good and will take good care of you.” He tried to pull her away from him. The girl shyly looked at me and then at her dad.
“Come on, Jisoo, take of your shoes and your jacket and then we can meet your classmates. Everyone is waiting to meet you.” I urged her and she helped her dad remove the shoes and jacket. I placed them in the place and bent next to her again. I held out my palm, the small girl slowly accepting my offer and placed her tiny palm in my, less tiny one.
Her dad grinned at me, giving a kiss to her cheek and stood up.
“You can come to me anytime. I’ll make sure nothing bad happens and I’ll protect you okay. I’m your friend here and I will be there for you, okay?” I said in a quiet, calming voice and she nodded giving me a smile, before turning to her dad.
“Okay now leave. daddy. I will make friends now with teacher (y/n) bye bye!” And started walking towards a classroom pulling at my hand.
Jimin, faked hurt, placing his hand on his chest, before giving a smile to his daughter and a wave.
Another teacher came, introducing herself to Jisoo, who now seemed easier to approach. She left my hand and held the other teacher’s hand and got in the class.
I turned to Jimin, a proud smile on his face.
“Ah, it seems like it’s your first child, am I right?” I said as I held out some papers for him to sign.
“Ah yes, how did you know?” Jimin shyly smiled, taking the pen from your hand and started signing to the blank spaces I pointed at.
“All parents look really proud when their first child goes to kindergarten. After their first one, they are way calmer.” I pointed out.
“Ah, is it really that obvious?” he asked, blushing and handing me back my pen.
“Yes, too obvious.” I giggled. “Well thank you so much, we will be waiting for you in the afternoon!” I said in my, now professional teacher voice. I swear I saw him cringe.
“Please don’t use this tone, your normal is way more friendly and cute.” And I blushed so hard after his comment.
“I think, I gave you my phone number, if anything happens, please contact me.” He said watching a teacher go past us, before he continued.
“You, can contact me anytime.” He added with a wink, before waving, a smile spread on his face, his eyes turning to slits.
“Bye! Give Jisoo a kiss for me.” He said and left, leaving me a blushing mess.
It’s gonna be a long year.
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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