Okay,look At The Mirror And I See No Pain

Okay,look at the mirror and I see no pain

I'de die for real as karma gon'be coming back for me

i'm stressed

this is how you formulate a plot for such a beautiful story! oh lord this was too cute

between the lines — myg (1)

⌞part one⌝

yoongi brings his daughter to work with him in hopes to lift her mood and distract her from their harsh reality. only the distraction proves to be more than what yoongi had hoped for… a lot more.

pairing: single dad!yoongi x actress!f reader rating: nc-17  words: 6.1k  genre(s): fluff, angst, comedy au(s): strangers to lovers, single dad, single parent, movie industry, famous heroine, hidden identity, found family warnings: curse words, abandonment issues, past trauma, loss of loved ones, mention of poor mental health, previous financial struggles, side pairing (namseok)

author’s note: the first part is here! i’m so happy to be able to share yoongi’s story. thoughts, opinions and feedback is warmly welcomed! [div cr]

caution: this part will mention a couple of heavy and sensitive topics. please read at your own risk. remember, your mental health matters ♡

© 2023 afterglowjeons on tumblr. all rights reserved.

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“I used to rule the world…” A raspy groan escaped Yoongi’s lips. He rolled onto his stomach, blinking bleary eyed as he haphazardly reached out for his iPhone. Each day, as per his usual routine, Yoongi’s cell phone vibrated at six-thirty in the morning with the unmistakable violins of Viva La Vida. 

Tapping his forefinger on the orange stop button, Chris Martin’s voice disappeared into the comfortable silence of Yoongi’s bedroom. He released another groan, bringing his dominant hand up to run his fingers through his raven colored strands, “Time to get up,” he murmured to himself, throwing off the covers. 

Min Yoongi was a creature of habit; to put it simply. He enjoyed having structure and order in his life, especially where his daughter was concerned. Min Nara was a force to be reckoned with and the light of Yoongi’s life. She brightened his existence in every sense of the word and he couldn’t imagine his life without her. Nara was a bubbly, energetic and effervescent eight year old. She approached each day with curiosity, excitement and wonder – to which Yoongi absolutely adored. The only downside to this was his daughter’s tendency to be late for school. And appointments. And piano lessons. Among other things. So he learned rather quickly that an organized schedule would be beneficial for the both of them. 

“Bug,” Yoongi called from his doorway, “Rise and shine.” 

Nara’s bedroom resided directly adjacent to his own, their doors essentially mirrored. It was one of the things he liked about the modest two-bedroom apartment he currently leased. He was fortunate enough to be renting from his best friend, meaning rent was significantly more affordable than other properties on the market. He couldn’t be more thankful for the friendships in his life. His friends treated him and Nara as family and vice versa. 

Ten minutes passed and Nara still hadn’t emerged from her bedroom. Yoongi was already dressed in a pair of charcoal jeans and a fitted black tee. Although his workplace didn’t mandate a dress code, Yoongi preferred to wear black to work at all times, “Nara,” he approached her door, rapping his knuckles against the door frame, “Are you okay?” 

A cough sounded from the other side of the door and Yoongi’s heart rate spiked. Hastily turning the knob, Yoongi entered his daughter’s bedroom and rushed to her side, “Bug, are you sick?”

Nara glanced up at her father, blankets tucked beneath her chin. She nodded. 

“Oh Bug… Why didn’t you come get me earlier?” Yoongi’s face etched with worry. 

“Because you were sleeping Daddy. I didn’t wanna wake you up.” 

Frowning, Yoongi couldn’t help but feel somewhat responsible. His baby girl was unwell and he wished he’d seen the signs earlier. It had been so much easier when she was younger. 

“It’s alright, Bug. I’m going to check your temperature and bring back some cough medicine, okay? Hang tight.” He pressed a doting kiss to the top of her head and hurried to the bathroom. 

With Yoongi preoccupied in the bathroom, sifting through the medicine cabinet, Nara sneakily pulled a heated wheat bag from beneath her pillow. She placed it directly to her forehead, in hopes for her temperature to rise. She’d managed to warm up the bag in the microwave while her father snoozed, knowing that his alarm went off at the same time every morning. Nara’s plan was all but going according to plan. When she heard his footsteps, she quickly tucked the wheat bag back underneath her pillow. 

Yoongi returned seconds later, his hands full of medical supplies. Overprotective Dad Mode: Activated. 

“My poor baby,” he cooed, placing the items onto the edge of her bed, “Let’s see what we’re working with,” he uncapped the thermometer, gently gesturing for Nara to open her mouth. She complied. While the thermometer began to count upwards in Fahrenheit, Yoongi placed his palm against her forehead, “You’re burning up. Shit.” 

Curse words weren’t an anomaly in the Min household, despite how often his friends scolded Yoongi for being crass around his daughter. He argued that Nara was intelligent enough to know not to use those words, as they were for adults only. He didn’t want to restrict himself around her; he aimed to be as authentic as possible. Nara was all he had and he wanted her to be able to trust him with everything, no matter how big or small. Yes, he was her father, but he also wanted to be her friend. 

“I don’t think I should go to school today Daddy,” Nara mumbled through a pout.

 “I think you might be ri–” The thermometer interrupted him, “Wait, this is weird. It says you’re only ninety-eight degrees.” 

Nara’s eyes widened, “Really?”

“Yeah Bug, that’s normal,” Yoongi said. His eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t understand. Your forehead felt like a furnace.” He placed his palm against her forehead once more. It wasn’t as hot as before. That confused him further, “Huh… It feels fine now. I think you can go to school today, Bug. I’ll give you some cough syrup before we leave, hm?” 

Nara’s lips quivered, “No Daddy! I’m too sick!” 

“Nara, you feel fine–” 

“I’m not fine!” Nara cried out, her hickory colored eyes welling up with tears, “I’m sick! Please let me stay home!”

His eyebrows shot up. Yoongi hadn’t witnessed Nara this way since her ‘Terrible Twos’. She looked distraught and the sight tore away at his heartstrings. What was upsetting his Lovebug?

“Nara,” Yoongi sat down beside her, “You’re upset. Can you tell me what’s going on?” 

Sniffling, Nara reached behind her head and tugged out the heated wheat bag. Relief washed over Yoongi’s face, although he felt a little disappointed that she had tried to trick him. She’d never pulled a stunt like this before and he wanted to know what pushed her to do so. 

After what felt like hours, Nara finally spoke, “I don’t wanna go to school.” 

“Why not?” Yoongi asked gently. 

“Just ‘cause.” 

“Come on, Bug. There’s got to be a reason. You love school.” That was true; Nara adored going to school. She was thriving in all her second grade classes, particularly art and physical education. Just like her father. She had at least half a dozen friends and eagerly looked forward to seeing them every weekday. So this was certainly out of character for his vivacious baby girl. 

Nara tugged the blankets up over her face, causing Yoongi to release a heavy sigh. He didn’t want to push her but time was ticking away. He needed to be in the back lot by eight-thirty and he hadn’t even arranged breakfast for the two of them yet. 

“Okay, I’ll give you some space–”

“No, please don’t go Daddy,” she said from underneath the covers, “I’m sorry.” She sniffled again, peeling back the duvet to expose her reddened eyes to her concerned father. Yoongi felt his heart squeeze and his eyes softened. 

“You don’t need to be sorry, Bug. I’m just worried about my little girl and I want to know how I can help.”

Nara’s lips trembled, “I don’t think you can help, Daddy.” 

“Why not?” Yoongi inquired, his hands reaching out to delicately brush away the flyaways falling over her eyes, “I’m sure there’s something I can do. Should I talk to Ms Lee? Do I need to talk to someone’s mom?” He wasn’t above putting a Karen in her place. He would move mountains and scale the oceans for Nara. 

She shook her head sadly, “No.”

Yoongi was at a loss. He felt helpless. His daughter was hurting and he couldn’t come up with a solution to make her feel better. What a shitty father he was. Rubbing his forehead with his hand, Yoongi resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose out of stress. What could he possibly do in this situation? This was uncharted territory for him. 

“I don’t wanna go to school because everyone is gonna have their moms there except me.” 

Yoongi had been so caught up in his own mind that he’d almost missed his daughter’s admission. Face falling, he noticed the way Nara dejectedly picked at her nail beds, “Oh Bug…” That’s when realization hit him like a freight train. Today was ‘Bring Your Mom To School Day’. He should’ve been more diligent in checking the school semester calendar on the fridge, “I’m so sorry. I should’ve known.” 

Nara shrugged. His Lovebug was putting on a brave face, that was for sure. 

“Come here,” He said, tapping his upper thigh. She immediately flung into her father’s arms, curling up in his lap like she used to a couple years ago. Nara buried her head into his chest and Yoongi’s heart shattered when he heard her sniffle once more. This part never got easier, “I’ve got you, Lovebug.”

His words held promise because he meant them with his entire heart. Yoongi wasn’t ever going to give up on her, not like she had. He closed his eyes as the painful memories resurfaced. 

“Yoongi listen…”

“I can’t do this anymore…”

“I’m not cut out to be a mother…”

“I didn’t ask for this…”

“I’m leaving and you can’t stop me…”

Nara had only been four months old when her mother walked out on them. Was Nara planned? Absolutely not. Yoongi was only twenty-one when Sana called him in tears, wailing that her life was over because she was pregnant. The two of them had been in their final year of college and the idea of having a child was nothing short of terrifying. Neither of them had been ready.

After calming her down over the phone, Yoongi gave Sana the time and space to determine what she wanted to do. It was her body, her choice and he was going to back her on whatever she decided. When she revealed to him two weeks later that she wanted to keep the baby and not terminate the pregnancy, Yoongi was secretly overjoyed. He’d partaken in a lot of research during their short time apart and he believed he could make the whole parenting thing work – even when he was on the verge of shitting himself scared. 

The pregnancy had been a lot of work. Despite Sana’s parents being pretty well-off, she refused to tell them about the baby until the birth. Her tuition was being covered by her father’s hefty bank account and she had a feeling that he would stop paying her school fees if he knew about her pregnancy, so Yoongi had to find another job. He didn’t have the luxury of asking his parents for financial aid, as Yoongi had a difficult childhood. His father left when he was still in the womb and his mother sadly passed away from ovarian cancer when he was just sixteen years old. Yoongi ended up living with his uncle until he turned eighteen and got accepted into university. He was on a full-ride scholarship that included a room in the male dorms, board and necessary school supplies. But to save himself from boredom, he also worked part time as a freelance videographer.

Without Sana contributing any source of income, he knew he needed to step up and provide for his family. So he secured a serving position just outside of campus that luckily offered him thirty hours a week. Between working two jobs, studying for finals and helping Sana in any way he could – Yoongi was exhausted. But it had all been worth it when Sana’s obstetrician told them they were expecting a baby girl. 

“A girl! I’m going to be a girl dad,” He gushed to Sana with glossy eyes, “I’m so happy, babe.”

Little did he know that Sana felt the opposite. She’d been hoping for a son. She didn’t want to raise a girl. In her mind, girls cost more money. Girls required more attention. Girls were just more. But instead, she forced a smile and led Yoongi to believe that everything was going to be okay. She continued to play him for a fool until that fateful day when she packed a duffle bag and left him standing in the middle of their tiny studio apartment, a crying Nara swaddled in his arms. The trajectory of his life changed that day and Yoongi made a promise to himself and to his daughter that he wouldn’t ever leave her. Not like her mother did to her and not like his deadbeat father did to him. No matter what it took, Yoongi was going to give Nara the childhood he never had. 

Now that was easier said than done. With Sana gone, Yoongi fell into a depression. Things became drastically harder. He had to get Nara onto bottles, as breastfeeding was obviously off the table. The transition to baby formula had been a struggle at first, but thankfully it didn’t last for very long. While getting Nara used to a new feeding schedule, Yoongi also had to juggle work. He’d finished college two months before Nara was born but hadn’t been able to do anything with his undergraduate’s degree. Why? Well obviously no company advertising an entry level position was willing to hire a new father. All Yoongi could do was fall back on his videography side hustle and that wasn’t enough to keep his head above water.

Before long, Yoongi had found himself coming face to face with an eviction notice and a month to vacate his studio apartment. He’d hit rock bottom. He was a fucking failure. What kind of father struggled to provide for his daughter? A pathetic excuse for one, that’s what he told himself. He was twenty-two with a six month old baby girl and no sign of light at the end of the tunnel. Until the day he came across Namjoon’s post on a popular leasing website. 

Kim Namjoon posted under the ‘Apartments And Rooms For Rent’ tag, stating that he was looking for a long-term roommate. His prerequisites had been simple: Clean, responsible, self-sufficient. The asking price for the room was dirt cheap and Yoongi almost fell off his futon when he read the ad. He couldn't recall the last time he typed a phone number that fast. Namjoon answered after the third ring, his deep voice filling Yoongi’s ears. 

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Kim Namjoon?”

“Yes, speaking.”

“Hi Namjoon. My name is Yoongi and I’m calling about the ad you posted online…”

After a twenty-five minute conversation over the phone, Namjoon invited Yoongi to come and visit the property that afternoon. The next day, a tenancy agreement arrived in Yoongi’s email inbox. He cried in relief for about an hour. 

Namjoon had been a gift sent from above. The man was a year younger than Yoongi, but he’d already graduated from university with high honors. He was something of a genius. He worked in advertising and was on a cool six figures a year at twenty-one. Namjoon wanted a roommate for one purpose and one purpose only – he needed someone to handle all the household chores because he was far too busy to do it all himself. When he explained that to Yoongi, he was a little sheepish. The ad hadn’t mentioned that teeny tiny detail, but Yoongi didn’t care in the slightest. Especially when he arrived with Nara strapped to his chest in her baby sling. Namjoon had been surprised but not repulsed. In fact, he became rather enamored the second his eyes met Nara’s big, bright ones. 

“You have a kid.”

“Yeah… Look, I’m sorry I didn’t mention it over the phone–”

“Forget about the rent. Consider the housework your payment.”

“What? Woah, Namjoon, that's not necessary.”

“Yes it is. When was the last time someone helped you guys out?”

Yoongi’s silence had been the only answer Namjoon needed. The original tenancy agreement was scrapped and the two not only became roommates that day, but the best of friends. 

Snapping out of his memory haze, Yoongi proceeded to rub his daughter’s back. Seven and a half years ago, this room had been Namjoon’s. His best friend now lived in a lavish three-bedroom apartment with his husband, a brilliant attorney by the name of Jung Hoseok. Hobi, as he was affectionately known as, was the one who helped Yoongi get his job when Nara was eighteen months old. He truly owed Joon and Hobi his life; he couldn’t imagine where he’d be without them. 

“I won’t send you to school today,” Yoongi broke the silence that lingered between father and daughter, “How about you come to work with me instead?” 

Nara retracted from his chest, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, “Really?”

“Yeah Bug,” Yoongi smiled, “Let’s make today ‘Bring Your Child To Work Day’.” His chest felt lighter when Nara’s face brightened. He would do absolutely anything to make her happy. Putting a smile on her face was the only thing that mattered to him. 

She didn’t say anything. Instead, Nara threw her arms around his neck and squished her face into the crook of his neck, “Thank you Daddy,” she mumbled into his skin, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

They embraced for a few minutes more until Nara pulled away. She looked much happier. The sad little girl that tried to fake a fever was no longer in the room and all the weight that had rested on Yoongi’s shoulders was beginning to evaporate, “Alright Min Nara, you have ten minutes to get dressed. I’ll make some breakfast to go. Peanut butter and jelly toast okay?”

She nodded enthusiastically, “Yes please! With extra peanut butter!” She bounded off the bed and hurried over to her white IKEA dresser decorated in a mass of butterfly stickers. Yoongi grinned, That’s my Lovebug, he thought.

With three minutes to spare, Yoongi parked in his usual parking spot. Nara wriggled with excitement when Yoongi pulled the handbrake and shut off the engine to his thirteen year old Kia hatchback. In the six and a half years of working at HB Studios, Yoongi had a near perfect record of clocking in exactly on time. Perks of living a well-structured life. 

“Okay Bug,” Yoongi hummed as they walked from Lot A to Lot C, “I’m going to need you to be on your best behavior today.” 

Nara beamed with a nod. She held out her pinky finger, to which Yoongi linked with his own. They never just promised each other something; it had to be a pinky promise. It just made sense. 

“I’ll have you hang out with Tae today, how’s that sound?”

“Uncle Tae?” Nara nearly squealed. 

Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh, “Sounds good I’m guessing?” He didn’t need her to respond, not when she adored her uncles. Sometimes he believed Nara loved them more than she did himself. Not that he could blame his daughter, his friends were the best of the best. Besides Joon and Hobi, Yoongi had befriended a bunch of his coworkers over the years. There was Taehyung, who worked in the wardrobe department and was tightly wrapped around his niece’s little finger; also Jimin, who worked as a stunt performer; also Seokjin, who worked as an accountant for the production buying team; and finally Jungkook who worked right alongside Yoongi as boom operators. 

With Nara holding his hand, Yoongi punched in his employee code into the clock-in system, “Alright, let’s go surprise Uncle Tae.” Perhaps he should’ve given Taehyung a head’s up that Nara would be joining him today, but honestly, the man would bend over backwards for his niece. He had his own office, so Yoongi wasn’t all too worried about leaving his daughter with his best friend for eight hours. 

“Uncle TaeTae!” Nara shrieked with delight when Yoongi knocked on the window beside his office door, “I’m working with you today!” That had her father chuckling in amusement. 

Taehyung smiled wide, immediately crouching and opening his arms. Nara ran right into his hold, squealing gleefully when her uncle swung her around, “I’m so glad, I’ve always wanted an assistant!” 

Yoongi snorted, “Using my kid for child labor, huh Kim? Now I don’t feel so bad for not shooting you a text.” 

“It’s not child labor if I compensate her with a Happy Meal, now is it?”

“You’re annoying,” Yoongi rolled his eyes playfully when Taehyung laughed, “No but seriously, is it cool if she’s with you today?” He was certain that it wouldn't be an issue, but Yoongi still struggled with asking favors from his friends. Over the years he’d gotten a little better at it, but deep down he still felt like he was failing at being a parent. His guilty conscience could be a real pain in the ass sometimes.

Taehyung gave Yoongi a look that said Duh!, “Of course it is. I will never say no to spending time with my Nara girl.” Now that had the little girl in question beaming like a kid on Christmas morning. 

“Thanks Tae, I owe you one.” 

“No,” His best friend firmly shook his head, “You don’t owe me a thing. I’m happy to do it. Remember that, okay?”

It was hard to stomach but Yoongi nodded anyway. Maybe one day he’ll accept help without feeling like he had to return the favor at any point. 

“Good,” Taehyung grinned broadly,  “Now get the hell out of my office. Nara and I have work to do.” 

It was around two in the afternoon when Yoongi received a text message from Taehyung, alerting him that Jungkook had ‘kidnapped’ his child and was bringing Nara over to Lot F. Yoongi and Jungkook primarily worked in Lot B, where the first eight stages were located. Lot A was the main parking structure, Lot C was the hub for wardrobe, two office buildings and four more stages, Lot D was another eight stages and finally Lot F, where post production was located.

When Jungkook wasn’t busy doing his job, he was frequently found hanging around in Lot F.

“They have the best staff cafeteria!” He proclaimed sometime six months ago, “You think I’m gonna pass up on that extra cheesy carbonara? Like fucking hell!”

Realistically, Jungkook didn’t spend the majority of his spare time in Lot F for the food, but rather the new – and pretty – foley artist. He harbored one hell of a crush for her, no matter how hard he denied it. Yoongi was convinced the kid relied on Nara to be his wing-girl. 

Fifteen minutes later, Yoongi walked inside the main post production building. He looked around for any signs of his daughter and his manchild best friend. They had to be around here somewhere, as the foley studios were only in this building. He wandered around for a few moments more until Nara almost ran into him. 

“Daddy!” She smiled brightly, “Look what Uncle Tae said you could have!” She held up a garment bag no doubt containing a costume from Taehyung’s department. Her grin was near blinding; she was ecstatic. 

“Nara,” Yoongi chuckled, “Have you been carrying that around everywhere?” 

She shook her head, “No. Uncle Kookie carried it for me. He said that’s what his ‘big manly muscles’ are for!” Oh how Yoongi loved his daughter’s ability to repeat her uncle’s out of pocket comments. Jungkook found himself thrown under the bus more often than the others. 

“Is that so? Well I’m glad he made himself useful,” Yoongi smirked, reaching out to take the large bag from his eight year old, “Did Tae really say I could have this? Or did you go looking in the donation bin again?” 

Nara looked sheepish and her face flushed a little. It hadn’t been her first time getting into the donation bin. The studio liked to donate costumes that were no longer needed or desired by the wardrobe department to local charities. So really it wasn’t a big deal that Nara had taken an item or two, “Uncle Tae said it would look better on you than a stranger, anyway!”

“That sounds like Taehyung,” Yoongi said with a knowing smile, “What is it, Bug?” He asked as he peered down at the bag; although he could guess it was a tuxedo of some kind. 

“A suit! Uncle Tae said that you need one! Please try it on Daddy!” 

The excitement radiating from Nara warmed Yoongi’s heart. She’d done a complete one-eighty since this morning and for that, he was eternally grateful to Taehyung. That dude could easily quit his job and become a professional child whisperer. 

“I’ll do that once we get home, yeah?” 

“No!” Nara exclaimed, “Try it on now! Please, please, please!” She popped her lips into a pout, the puppy dog eyes making their grand appearance. She knew his ultimate weakness, “Pretty please.”

With a resigned sigh, Yoongi caved. He couldn’t say no to his baby girl, not when she was giving him the biggest case of puppy dog eyes. She was the only person that could put Jungkook’s doe eyes to shame, “Okay. But it’ll have to be quick, I need to get back to work soon.” 

That was enough to satisfy Nara. She beamed and clapped her hands together happily. 

“I can’t do it here though,” he told her gently, “Let’s go over to Lot D. There’s more places for me to change there.” Truthfully, Yoongi didn’t care whether he got changed here or not. But it was far too risky and he didn't want to get caught slacking on the job. There was nothing scheduled for Lot D today, meaning the entire space should be empty. It was perfect. 

Nara didn’t need to be told twice. She grasped his hand and they made their way towards Lot D together. He made sure to send Jungkook a text, so that the poor dude didn’t have a heart attack over losing his niece. 

When they arrived at the lot, Yoongi ushered them inside Stage 19. It was the smallest one of the eight and the most inconspicuous in his opinion. Stage 19 was known amongst the crew for being the closest thing to a storage room. Everyone brought useless shit, usually things that didn’t have a delegated spot, to that stage and left it there. So Yoongi was confident that he wouldn’t be found out here. 

“Nara, I need you to stay right here, okay?” Yoongi kissed the top of his daughter’s head. She nodded her head when he propped her up on an old white fold-out table that once belonged to the Lot D cafeteria, “I’ll be right out.” He assured her before ducking inside the singular male toilet. 

Yoongi unzipped the garment bag and was taken aback by the suit resting on the metal hanger inside. It was a dark slate gray three piece tuxedo, paired with a crisp black button up. He wondered what movie this costume had been used for, because the suit looked damn expensive. He didn’t know the first thing about designer brands, but there was no doubt in his mind that this was designer. He made a mental note to ask Taehyung later on. 

He stripped off his jeans and T-shirt, leaving him in nothing but a pair of Calvin Klein briefs. Carefully, he clothed himself in the dress pants, button up, four button vest and suit jacket. The material felt like silk against his skin. No wonder Tae let Nara take it, this is way too good to donate, he thought. He stashed his discarded clothes in the garment bag and hung it on the back of the toilet door, so they wouldn’t get dirty. Not that he had too much to worry about, the amenities were professionally cleaned each night. 

“You clean up alright, Min,” he said to his reflection in the mirror, “Bug has good taste.” He smiled fondly at the thought of his daughter seeing him in this get-up. He could imagine the excitement. With that, he blew out a breath and walked out of the men’s toilet. 

“How do I look, Bug?” He asked, lifting his head to find the table empty. Panic stabbed Yoongi's chest almost immediately, “Nara? Nara!” He called out, eyes wide and palms sweaty. He hadn’t spent more than five minutes in the toilet and yet, his daughter was nowhere to be found. He violently cursed himself, running a hand through his hair frantically, “Nara!”

Yoongi took off in a jog, his eyes scanning the area. He felt like he was about to vomit. This was every father’s nightmare, wasn’t it? He’d once dreaded the thought of losing Nara in the grocery store but this? This was ten times worse. No, more like a hundred times worse. He wished he never agreed to trying on the suit. This whole situation could’ve been avoided. How many stupid mistakes was he going to make today?

He kept calling out her name and his heart seized each time he was met with silence. Until he heard her angelic laugh coming from a distance. He ran towards the sound of her laughter, finding himself in the middle of Stage 18, “Nara!” Yoongi hollered. Seconds later, he spotted her. She was sitting on a sofa nestled in the middle of a set, her legs dangling off the edge of the cushions and her head resting against a woman’s arm, watching something on said woman’s phone. Yoongi felt his mouth dry up when he recognized Nara’s company. You weren't just any woman – you were the star of a new blockbuster the studio was in the middle of filming. Yoongi hadn’t landed the contract for that movie, which explained why he hadn’t crossed paths with you until now. 

You were breathtaking in person. He always thought you were beautiful. It’s what led him to doing a shameless Google search four months ago when the movie began production in Lot D. But nothing could have prepared him for your beauty in real life. He felt bewildered, mesmerized and infatuated all at once. What were you doing here? From what he’d heard on the grapevine, Lot D didn’t have a schedule this week because filming was taking place offsite. Has filming already wrapped? He was confused as hell but of course he wasn’t going to speak on it, not when you were the talk of the film industry right now. That practically made you royalty. 

“Nara,” Yoongi breathed when he finally approached the sofa, “What are you doing? I told you to stay. Why would you leave? I was worried sick.” He sounded exasperated and he certainly felt that way. He almost had a panic attack, for crying out loud. 

“Sorry Daddy,” Nara pouted, “I just wanted to say hi.”

Yoongi’s eyes shifted to yours then and he could’ve sworn he felt his stomach erupt with butterflies. He hadn’t been this affected by a woman since Sana… 

“Gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out,” you apologized, your voice echoing in his ears like his favorite song on repeat, “I was walking past Stage 19 and she must’ve recognized me. She ran out a few seconds later and introduced herself. Your daughter is adorable.” 

Pride spread across Yoongi’s chest. His lips curled into a shy smile, “Thank you. I’m sorry she disturbed you. She knows better than to go up to strangers.” He made stern eye contact with his daughter. Her hickory colored eyes saddened and she looked down at her fingers. He hated this part of parenting. It was tough disciplining Nara sometimes because she was genuinely a good kid. But stranger danger was a big no-no for Yoongi and he wanted Nara to understand why it was dangerous. 

“It’s alright, I don’t mind,” you smiled, “Obviously it’s not safe to approach people you don’t know,” you quickly added for the sake of not stepping on Nara’s father’s toes, “But she didn’t disturb me. I really enjoy her company.” 

“Oh… That’s good.” Yoongi internally cringed at his awkwardness.  

You smiled even wider, finding him refreshing. He was unbelievably handsome, that much was obvious. He wasn’t super tall, but he wasn’t short either, however he was broad. His shoulders filled out the suit jacket he donned perfectly and you blushed a little when you caught yourself staring. You hadn’t seen him around the set before, which sparked your curiosity. The studio was massive and thousands of employees worked behind the scenes, but judging by the way he was impeccably dressed, he had to be someone of high importance. Perhaps he was an executive producer? You wondered if you should ask him, but you also didn’t want to impose. You’d already given him a near heart attack by showing Nara a TikTok on your phone. Was it weird that you found him even more attractive because he was a father? No doubt he had a gorgeous wife at home… 

“Forgive me for being rude, I’m–”

“Y/N,” Yoongi blurted, your name rolling off his tongue with ease, “Sorry. I, um, know who you are. You’re really talented.” He wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole. How fucking embarrassing. You didn’t think so, though. You found him to be endearing. 

“Thank you, you’re sweet,” you smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “I didn’t catch your name?”

“Yoongi.”

Nara’s face lit up upon your exchange, her eyes twinkling, “My Daddy makes movies!” 

This caught both of your attention. You were intrigued. Yoongi, on the other hand, was gobsmacked. He hoped that you wouldn’t misinterpret Nara’s words and assume that he was a director. That would be humiliating. Especially since his job was to hold the mic above actresses like herself. 

“Does he?” You smiled down at Nara, who had already stolen your heart, “Are you a director for another lot?”

Yoongi opened his mouth to respond, but Nara was faster, “He works in Lot B!” His chatterbox of a daughter revealed. She looked pleased with herself when an impressed expression spread across your facial features. 

“Wow, that’s amazing. I can’t believe we haven’t met before,” you said, “You must be really busy making all these brilliant movies. And you say I’m the talented one.” 

That’s because you are. I'm nobody, Yoongi wanted to say. The words were right on the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t form words. He couldn’t even make noise. Was he in shock? Whatever it was, it allowed the little white lie Nara told to influence your opinion of him. Would you even talk to him if you knew who he really was? He looked you up on Instagram, he knows who your friends are. He knows the kind of company you keep. Your social circle was full of successful, beautiful and wealthy people. He wasn’t any of those three things. And yet, here you were, looking at him like he was. 

“Daddy is pretty busy,” Nara rambled, “But he still spends every day with me! He’s the best.” 

“Thanks, Bug.” Yoongi smiled lovingly at his daughter. Sure, she’d totally fed you a lie about his profession, but she had a heart of pure gold. She probably just misunderstood what he actually does for a living. It wasn’t really her fault. All he had to do was tell you the truth. It’s not like he was ever going to see you again. 

He tried his best to ignore the little voice in the back of his mind that hoped he would see you again. The devil on his shoulder needed to stop being so persuasive. 

“He sounds like the best,” your voice had a bit of a flirty undertone, “We should get coffee sometime. I’d love to pick your brain about directing.” 

Say no, Yoongi. Say fucking no! “Yeah sure, that sounds great.”

Nara cheered. The angel on Yoongi’s shoulder face palmed. You grinned, looking effortlessly gorgeous as you whipped out your phone and opened up a new contact. 

How many stupid mistakes was Yoongi going to make today? Too many to count.

copyright © 2023 afterglowjeons. please do not copy, reupload or translate.

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Agust D ✩ 해금

I N T E R L U D E : 2 0 0 9

pairing. yoongi x female reader / gn reader for this drabble

genre. fluff, baby angst

w. yearning. too soft for my soul 🥹

wc. 1.7k +

—taglist form.

this is a drabble from the haegeum universe. give it a read, maybe? ( but can definitely be read as a stand-alone! )

please refer to “ a/n ” in the ending.

His flushed cheeks are a testament to the wintry chill that surrounds him, adding a rosy hue to his already captivating visage. His nose scrunches up his nose at the slightly cool wind which brushes his already flushed cheeks. As the soft flakes of snow fall delicately upon his coat clad shoulders, he remains unfazed, displaying an air of quiet confidence and solitude.

Amidst the pristine white backdrop, his jet-black hair stands out, glistening as if it were coated in a thin layer of frost. Each strand appears silky and smooth, falling effortlessly around his pale, youthful face, framing his youthful features perfectly .

His once styled, not messy bangs are hastily parted to the side, giving a peek of his feline, warm brown eyes. They add a touch of mystery, drawing attention to his captivating eyes that peek out from beneath the soft curtain of hair. His eyes, when glimpsed through the gaps, reveal a glimmer of curiosity and a hint of his inner world, full of soft dreams and a longing feeling of love, and you're dumb enough to say that, too. His lashes rest on his soft cheek each time he blinks, and you fold.

His eyes are just so beautiful.

The contrast between his dark hair and the snowy scenery only enhances his striking appearance.

As an observer captivated by his presence, you feel an innate desire to reach out and brush off the snow that has accumulated on his shoulders and hair. Your fingertips itch with anticipation, longing to gently remove the delicate ice crystals that have settled on him. The act of doing so would not only demonstrate your caring nature but also allow you to connect with him on a deeper level, but you know you cannot. You would not.

Hidden behind the bangs, his eyes meet yours, and he gives you a smile. A smile which has his gums and teeth showing full on display, eyes crinkling close at how wide he's smiling at you. Cute, you think, and your cheeks heat up at the thought of finding your senior, cute.

Your senior, Min Yoongi.

But it is what it is, right? Stupid heart. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Whenever he approaches you, or smiles at you, or reads you out paragraphs.

Or maybe when he saves a tangerine or two for you. He hasn't still admitted it out loud that the tangerines you find on your desk often during the lunch break are actually from him, because a lot many times in the beginning, you've scanned over the classroom to see who's your secret tangerine Godfather, only to notice him silently staring at you through the corridor.

And you still giggle to visualise how fast he has turned away, abruptly, cheeks red like a tomato on being caught. Now, you didn't really need to actually look for confirmation whether it's from him, but you do enjoy the look on his face when you bring out one during times like these.

You find him devastatingly cute.

You know you're grinning like an absolute fool, heart palpitating like a damned drum being played.

Times like these, your heart decides to thump loudly against your will with heated cheeks and a fuzzy stomach where you feel—they call it butterflies, the funny feeling—occurs. It's as if a delicate dance of happiness is happening inside you, spreading joy with every movement, every word and every giggle passed in between you two.

He's two years older than you- you're fourteen, he's sixteen. But still, there's no icy formality as there used to be before when you met him. It's now all giggles and jokes.

Long story short, you met him at the basketball court, or rather bumped at him. But that's another story to continue, no?

“ Is that a story again you've written, Yoongi-ssi? ”

You playfully ask him as he takes a seat beside you, fumbling with his coat pocket to fish out a small, yellow paper, or rather, a sticky note.

You absolutely want to tease him for the flush that rises to his already pink cheeks at your teasing, because now you're bold enough to confront him with his short paragraphs that he writes to read out to you in the free times like these.

“ I— uh.. ”

“ I just did that randomly while trying to write a song.”

He looks so cute, so adorable, so homely with a small pout on his pink lips, his already pale skin shining softly. The chestnut overcoat fits him perfectly, hugging his slender body. Its warm color complements his features and stands out against the white snow.

The soft fabric of the coat drapes gently, giving him a polished appearance. He crosses the lapels of his coat over for warmth, and your cheeks burn with mortification when you realise your heart skipped a beat with the random thought that you had a strong urge to keep him warm with your arms.

“ A song? Did you finish it, senior? ”

His brows furrow slightly at the honorific you're addressing him with. You know his irritation because it's been long he has told you to let go of those and just be normal friends, but maybe you do like his pissed off face a bit more than you should.

A bit more than you should.

He clicks his tongue as a denial, shaking his head slightly, fidgeting with the small paper.

“ ..No, but ended up writing this. ”

“ Is it in English, senior ? ”

You absolutely love the way he sends a half hearted glare your way, but you know he doesn't mean any real burn behind it.

“ The melodies remind me of some certain emotions which..which I don't really acknowledge, at times. ”

Melodies. It wasn't really long since you've come to a realisation that melodies, mean his thoughts for him. Or, the music notes you often see him going through.

No matter if he's infront of the piano or not. You'd often catch him scribbling something on a paper with flushed, red cheeks, but on further inquiry ( and a little teasing, maybe) you'd get nothing but annoyed grunts, nothing too serious.

A new learner of English, he says, he is, apparently. But the small paragraphs he often reads you out with such fluency was already convincing you otherwise.

His voice when he speaks has a thick, Korean accent which is audible though each syllable, but you really think that it adds a dash of charisma to his overall voice when he speaks. His tone is light, fluent, and overall, pleasing to hear.

You weren't good at English yourself— but you didn't miss the times he would watch you with curious, sparkling eyes whenever you spoke in English. Or give a speech in some annual function at school, or achieved good marks in examinations.

But to you, you thought it was all just— practice and even a bit of instinct. You didn't even know what adverbs were. Well. Reading books of various genres helped you in crafting your vocabulary, and it's a good thing that you can use it now— but for him, you were a God. In English.

You bite your inner cheek to catch him blushing, again, as he fumbles with the small paper clutched in his hands.

Your hands itch to reach forward and hold his own, larger ones, which he often rubs together to warm them up. You give him a small smile with a nod, encouraging him to speak his side. He clears his throat, and after releasing a sigh, he begins.

“ Sometimes, the most elusive desires are the ones that torment us the most. We yearn for something we know is nearly impossible to attain, and the ache within our hearts grows with each passing moment. „

Yet, deep down, we grapple with the knowledge that we may not deserve it. The pain is twofold— a longing that both consumes and humbles us, reminding us of the delicate balance between our desires and our self-worth. ”

A moment of silence.

Suddenly, a realization sparkled in your eyes, like a shooting star illuminating the night sky. His paragraph was about longing something which you know is nearly impossible to attain. And it takes you almost a minute to realise that he just read it out to you. He was audibly quiet after finishing his little speech. His glance was down to the little paper opened in his outstretched fingers, hasty and cursive english scribbled on it.

You glanced back at his face. His eyelashes were covered with small droplets of snow, and you then realise that the fuzzy feeling, wild butterflies roared in the pit of your stomach. They reared high up to your chest, enveloping your tender beating heart in a soft hug as his gaze followed up to you, and you see the smallest of the smiles breaking on his lips.

But your breath hitches in your throat when you realise that maybe the yearning he just read out to you doesn't resonate the same way it does in your heart.

Your heart felt a gentle tug, pulling you to a different path, where your yearning took a different shape, with different colors and a unique rhythm. In that moment, you embraced the realization that sometimes, the yearning in our hearts doesn't always align with the yearning we find in others.

You shouldn't take Yoongi’s kindness to spend time with you for something which you don't know where will it lead to, because you know it's a path not so easy to tread on.

“ How was it, ____ ? ”

His voice breaks you out of your thoughts as you already find him looking at you.

You feel a genuine smile blooming at his feline eyes curiously peering at your own ones. He looks like a lost kitten, and you try the hardest to not coo at the big tuxedo cat infront of you.

“ Amazing as always, Yoongi-ssi! You used very high class words, though! I really love how you described it so well. ”

His small smile now widens to a whole, wide grin which has his gums popping out, nose scrunching in delight at your praise. His cheeks are dusted pink again, and you feel the roar at the pit of your stomach again.

You ignore the tug at your chest who deals with the crumpled threads of hope, again.

And that's okay, for in the tapestry of emotions, each thread has its own story to tell.

a/n : hello!

if you're a normal reader, thank you for reading so far. if it's possible, or if you want, let me know your thoughts 💜

if you're a haegeum reader, i just wanna let you guys know about the relationship between oc and yoongi more. i don't want to include the flashback parts more in the main story, though flashbacks like these may pop out of nowhere to let you guys know more ✨ however, the actual relationship of their past remains vague, or is upto the reader to decide.

also, i'm not putting haegeum on hold. because, i still maybe would write more drabbles / scenarios so regarding their past (so that readers get the connection between in the main story ) (no promises, but has more possibilities).

but the update for the main story— i dunno when. it's going to be long, and actually, it's quite a thing for me to write. there's a lot going on, so maybe the update should hopefully be done till late November (just an estimate. no promises. ) the ending I’ve visualised, i fear that it's not really the best or happy in any ways, and i have to work on it to make it presentable. but for now, maybe i’ll focus on writing my other fics with lighter genres. again, i’m not putting it on hold. it's still a wip, so don't worry 🤍 maybe or maybe not it can be released before, or even after.

feel free to ask for ask my muse / drop by some feedback / read my other works / or just chat !