the songs he never played for anyone . âĄ
pairing : min yoongi x f!reader
genre : one-sided enemies to lovers âą enemies to lovers âą music industry au âą slow burn âą angst + fluff âą underground musician au âą one shot
yoongi x f!reader â enemies to lovers â slow burn â music industry au â emotional vulnerability â angst & fluff â hurt/comfort â underground musician au â creative struggles â burnout â insecurity â late night studio sessions â complicated feelings â mutual pining â love through music â mature themes â sexual content â smut â suggestive content â language â emotional intimacy
after years of writing songs for nearly empty cafĂ©s, basement gigs, and anyone willing to listen, y/n never imagined sheâd end up at bighit entertainment.
working alongside min yoongi.
the rapper everyone avoids interrupting.
the man who seems to speak more honestly through music than he ever could in conversation.
everyone tells her not to challenge him.
because technical perfection means nothing if a song doesnât make someone feel.
yoongi sayâs that sheâs loud, emotional, and impossible to understand.
y/n thinks heâs frustrating, emotionally unavailable, and hiding behind every lyric he writes.
neither of them plans on changing their mind.
but somewhere between coffee gone cold, sleepless nights in studio genius, shared headphones, and melodies nobody else was ever meant to hearâŠ
they begin writing something neither of them knows how to put into words.
this story is inspired by the atmosphere of the 2015 the most beautiful moment in life eraâthe rain-soaked streets, sleepless nights, tiny recording studios, old notebooks full of crossed-out lyrics, and the feeling that youth is beautiful because it doesnât last forever.
while the members of bts appear as fictionalized characters in this alternate universe, the story itself is entirely fictional and created for entertainment purposes.
thank you for reading. i hope youâll stay awhile. ~
y/n had always written songs for nearly empty cafés, basement gigs, and anyone willing to listen.
for years, sheâd dreamed of becoming a professional songwriter. watching other artists bring lyrics to life while she remained hidden behind a notebook was something she slowly grew tired of.
then, one day, she came across an audition announcement from bighit entertainment.
the home of the rising boy group, ë°©íìë
ëš â better known as BTS.
without giving herself much time to think, she applied as a songwriter.
after clicking the submit button, reality hit her.
why would a company like bighit choose someone like her?
where had all that confidence suddenly come from?
every notification made her heart race.
until one afternoon, the email sheâd been secretly hoping for finally arrived.
then a third time, just to make sure she wasnât imagining it.
she couldnât believe it.
y/n wouldâve never imagined sheâd end up at bighit entertainment.
the first thing y/n learned about bighit entertainment was that everyone here spoke through music.
not conversations. not introductions. music.
every hallway carried a different soundâa melody from one room, a beat from another, someone humming lyrics while walking past her. for the first time, being obsessed with music didnât feel like something she had to apologize for.
âyouâll be working closely with the producing team,â the staff member explained.
y/n nodded, tightening her grip on her bag. nervous. excited. both at once.
âyouâll meet some of the main producers today.â
main producers. the words alone were enough to make her stomach twist.
the first people she met were names she already knew: pdogg, supreme boiâpeople whose work she had listened to while writing her own songs. she tried not to look too impressed.
âyouâre the new songwriter?â
her voice sounded calmer than she felt. good. confidence was sometimes just pretending until it became real.
âi heard you used to do underground music.â
her eyes widened. âyou heard about that?â
âof course,â he said. âwe like knowing who we work with.â
and suddenly, she wasnât just another girl with a notebook anymore. people were actually listening.
and immediately, she noticed three things: coffee cups, lyric sheets, and him.
mint-colored hair. black hoodie. headphones resting around his neck. min yoongi.
she already knew who he was. everyone did. the producer. the rapper. the person everyone warned her not to argue with.
y/n expected someone intimidating. instead, she saw someone exhaustedâsomeone who looked like he had spent more nights with unfinished songs than actual sleep.
their eyes met for just a moment, but long enough for both of them to become curious.
âthis is y/n,â the staff member introduced. âsheâll be joining the songwriting team.â
one word. somehow, it sounded like a challenge.
and for some reason, y/n immediately thought:
weâre going to have problems.
meeting the rest of bts was easier. they were warmer than she expected.
jimin smiled first. âwelcome! donât be nervous.â
which only made her more aware that she was, in fact, nervous.
then taehyung tilted his head. âyou kind of look like yoongi hyung.â
y/n froze. âiâm sorry?â
âwait, heâs right,â jungkook said.
âthe clothes,â namjoon added.
âthe music thing too,â hoseok said.
âbut sheâs louder,â jin joked.
y/n placed a hand over her chest. âwow. i just got here and iâm already being compared to someone?â
from the corner of the room, yoongi looked up.
The room went quiet for a second.
then hoseok laughed. âoh no.â
namjoon smiled. âthis is going to be interesting.â
because everyone noticed itâthe way they challenged each other, the way neither of them backed down, the strange familiarity between two people who had just met.
the first week at bighit taught y/n three things.
one: everyone here survived on coffee.
(everyone except taehyungâŠ. ă
ă
)
two: sleep was apparently optional.
three: min yoongi was impossible to read.
because y/n considered herself pretty good at reading people.
she noticed when someone was uncomfortable, when someone was pretending to be okay, when someoneâs smile didnât reach their eyes.
he was always sitting somewhere with his headphones on, shoulders slightly hunched over whatever he was working on, expression unreadable in a way that almost felt deliberate. if he noticed people looking at him, he never showed it. if something annoyed him, it only appeared in the smallest tightening at the corner of his mouth, gone before anyone could be sure theyâd seen it.
and somehow, that made her want to figure him out even more.
which was probably a terrible idea.
âyouâll be working with yoongi on the new track.â
y/n looked up from the papers in her hand. âme?â
âyouâre both good at writing emotional lyrics.â
because apparently, the universe had decided to test her.
yoongiâs studio was exactly what she expected.
full of coffee cups that looked like they had been abandoned hours ago.
he was sitting in front of the computer, listening to a demo, one hand resting loosely near the keyboard while the other tapped once against the desk in a slow, absent rhythm.
she was two minutes early.
âinteresting way to say hello.â
yoongi looked at her then, lifting his gaze just enough to meet hers.
and for a second, she forgot what she was going to say.
because up close, his hair was even more noticeable.
the mint color had faded slightly, darker at the roots.
but somehow, it suited him.
yoongiâs eyes flicked over her face once, quick and unreadable, before settling back on the screen like he hadnât looked at her at all.
then, because y/n had never been good at keeping thoughts inside:
not dramatically. not like he was shocked enough to make a scene. just still, with the faintest pause in his breathing and a tiny shift in his jaw, like he was deciding whether she was serious.
his brows barely moved, but something in his expression changed anyway.
just enough for y/n to notice.
like the compliment had landed somewhere deep and unexpected.
like he had suddenly remembered that one stupid thing heâd once said about living life to the fullest if someone ever called him handsome.
and now, apparently, he was going to have to honor that promise.
âyou came here to talk about my hair?â
she walked toward the desk.
âi came here to work.â
yoongiâs fingers shifted once against the edge of the table, then stilled.
âbut your hair was worth mentioning.â
for a second, she thought she saw the smallest hint of a smile.
it was barely there, more in the softening around his eyes than on his mouth.
the song filled the studio.
the production was incredible.
everyone else would probably call it perfect.
but something felt wrong.
yoongi watched her while she listened, not openly, not enough to make it obvious. just enough that she could feel it. when she frowned slightly, his gaze sharpened. when she leaned in a little closer to the speakers, his shoulders eased by the smallest degree.
his expression didnât change, but his eyes stayed on her a second longer than necessary.
âbut it feels like youâre trying too hard not to feel anything.â
yoongi leaned back in his chair, slow and controlled, one hand sliding from the desk to rest against his thigh.
âwhat does that mean?â
âit means the song is hiding.â
his eyes narrowed slightly.
âsongs donât hide.â
for a moment, he didnât answer.
his gaze dropped to the desk, then back to her face, like he was measuring whether she meant it or if she was just trying to sound clever.
yoongi had nothing to say.
the silence lasted longer than y/n expected.
usually, when people disagreed with her, they reacted right away.
they defended themselves.
yoongi just sat there, staring at the screen like the song had turned into a problem he hadnât expected.
finally, he looked at her.
âyou always talk like that?â
âlike you already know what someoneâs thinking.â
not because he disliked it.
because he didnât know what to do with it.
most people listened to his songs and focused on what was there.
y/n noticed what was missing.
âyou want me to listen again?â
âdid i say something confusing?â
âyou know, youâre really friendly.â
but she smiled a little when she said it.
he noticed more than he wanted to.
the way she tapped her fingers when she was thinking.
the way she tilted her head when she listened.
the way she looked at songs like they were alive.
he hated that he noticed.
or maybe he hated that he didnât.
this time, y/n paid attention differently.
âthatâs the real part.â
âbecause thatâs the only moment where it sounds like you stopped trying to impress people.â
for once, he didnât have a sarcastic answer.
because nobody had ever described his music like that.
âwas that supposed to be an insult?â
âyouâre impossible.â
and somehow, that made it harder to argue. later that night, after y/n left, yoongi stayed.
like always. the studio went quiet again. the kind of quiet he usually liked.
but this time, it felt different. his eyes moved to the lyric sheet on his desk. then to the notes sheâd left behind.
little arrows pointing at lines she thought could be stronger.
he should have been annoyed.
instead, he picked up a pen.
not because she told him to.
because she made him want to.
the next morning, y/n found a coffee on her desk.
she looked around the room.
exactly how she liked it.
and somewhere across the office, min yoongi pretended not to notice when she smiled.
the studio was louder than usual, not because anyone was talking, but because everyone was creating. keyboards clicked, pens scratched, and quiet voices drifted through the room like static.
y/n sat beside yoongi with a notebook in her lap, staring at the same line for what felt like the hundredth time.
yoongi glanced over. âyouâve said that about every version.â
âbecause every version isnât right.â
he looked at her for a second too long. âyouâre difficult.â
y/n didnât even look up. âyou say that like itâs a bad thing.â
across the room, namjoon lifted his head from his own lyrics and exchanged a look with pdogg. they had been watching the two of them for the past hourâthe arguing, the teasing, the way neither of them ever actually walked away. it was starting to feel less like conflict and more like something else entirely.
âyou know,â namjoon said, âyou two are kind of similar.â
both of them looked over at once.
âweâre not,â they said at the same time.
the silence that followed was brief, but sharp.
then supreme boi laughed under his breath. âthat was exactly what i meant.â
y/n frowned. âhow are we similar?â
âyou both hate admitting when someone else is right,â pdogg said.
yoongiâs expression hardened. âi donât.â
âwhat?â he asked, flatly.
y/n folded her arms. âyou spent thirty minutes changing the second verse because i said something was missing.â
âbecause i agreed with the change.â
yoongi opened his mouth, then shut it again. namjoon smiled into his hand.
âsame person,â he said.
ânot even close,â yoongi muttered, but nobody believed him.
and that was the strange partâthe song was coming together because of it. alone, their writing styles should have clashed.
y/n wrote like she was bleeding onto the page, all feeling and memory and raw honesty. yoongi wrote like he was carving something into stone, careful and precise and impossible to move.
but together, it worked. y/n would name the emotion, and yoongi would turn it into sound. yoongi would build the line, and y/n would find the ache underneath it. they kept pushing each other, and somehow, neither of them backed down.
the room went quiet. the new version filled the studio, and for once, y/n didnât speak right away. she just listened, still and focused, and yoongi noticed because he always noticed when she really listened.
she turned to him. âi hate it.â
supreme boi nearly choked. namjoon covered his mouth, trying not to laugh. yoongi stared at her like sheâd just insulted him personally.
âno.â her mouth curved. âi hate that itâs good.â
something flickered across his faceâalmost a smile, almost nothing.
âi wasnât thanking you.â
and there it was again, that small, dangerous thing between them. the way yoongi looked at her when she wasnât paying attention.
the way y/n smiled whenever he challenged her. the way they acted like they couldnât stand each other while always ending up side by side. they were impossible.
and somehow, they made sense.
later, when everyone started leaving, namjoon lingered behind. he watched yoongi stare at the lyric sheet y/n had written on, his expression unreadable.
yoongi didnât look up. âwhat?â
namjoon smiled to himself. ânothing.â
âyouâre just obvious.â
that made yoongi finally look at him. âabout what?â
namjoon only laughed and shook his head. âforget it.â
because if yoongi didnât know yet, there was no point saying it out loud.
the studio always felt different after midnight. during the day, it belonged to everyoneâproducers coming and going, voices overlapping, footsteps hurrying across the floor, the sharp click of keyboards and the rustle of paper filling every corner.
but tonight, y/n and yoongi were alone in it.
the lights were low, the glow from the computer screens soft and blue against tired skin, and rain tapped steadily against the window like it was keeping time with the music.
y/n sat cross-legged on the floor beside the desk, her shoulder pressed lightly against yoongiâs knee as she stared at the lyric sheet in front of her. one line was circled over and over, the graphite smudged beneath her fingers. she had been stuck on it for almost an hour.
âyouâre going to burn a hole through that paper.â
she looked up and found yoongi still there, half-shadowed by the monitor light, one hand resting on the back of her chair like heâd been leaning there for ages. when she shifted, his fingers brushed the side of her arm, absent and unthinking, and he didnât move them away. âi thought you left.â
he shrugged, eyes flicking back to her page. âi thought you left.â
she glanced around the empty studio, at the abandoned cups of coffee, the tangled wires, the faint hum of the speakers. then she nudged his shin with her foot, just enough to make him look at her. âso weâre both bad at leaving?â
something small and warm moved through her at that, a smile she didnât bother hiding. the silence between them used to feel sharp, something she had to fill with words, jokes, noise. with yoongi, it had changed.
it settled around them like a blanket, soft and unforced, and she found she didnât mind it.
she could hear the rain, the low buzz of the equipment, the faint scratch of her own pen against paper, and the occasional shift of yoongi beside her when he leaned closer to see what she was writing.
it was quiet, but not empty.
âwhat are you writing?â yoongi asked after a moment, his voice low near her ear.
y/n looked down at her notebook. ânothing.â
he lifted an eyebrow, and when she glanced up, he was close enough that she could see the tiredness in his eyes, the faint shadow of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
âyou always say that when itâs something.â
she narrowed her eyes at him. âare you judging me?â
he didnât answer, but she caught the small smile he tried to hide behind his hand. after a beat, he reached over her shoulder and tapped the page with one finger, his knuckle grazing the side of her neck as he did. âlisten to something.â
y/n looked over. âa new song?â
that one word made her sit up straighter, though she didnât move far before her shoulder brushed his chest. yoongi didnât show unfinished songs. not the ones that mattered. not the ones he kept close to his chest like secrets. âare you sure?â
he met her eyes, steady and unreadable, then reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear with a care that made her forget how to breathe for a second. âif i wasnât, i wouldnât ask.â
so she took the headphones from him, the plastic still warm from his hands, and settled one side over her ear while he kept the other.
his fingers lingered at the edge of the cup for a second longer than necessary, and when he leaned in to adjust it, his shoulder pressed against hers. the song began in a hush, quieter than she expected, the beat soft and restrained, something fragile tucked beneath it like a pulse.
when it ended, the silence that followed felt differentâthicker, almost reverent.
yoongi watched her carefully. waiting.
âit sounds lonely,â she said at last.
his expression shifted, just slightly. âlonely?â
âyeah.â she looked back at the screen, at the waveform frozen in blue light, and absentmindedly her hand found his sleeve, fingers curling around the fabric near his wrist. âbut not in a sad way. more like someone who got used to being alone.â
for once, he didnât joke. didnât deflect. didnât hide behind that familiar wall of dry sarcasm. he just looked away, jaw tightening for a second, because somehow she had done it againâheard the thing he never said out loud.
âyouâre weird,â he muttered.
y/n smiled, still holding onto his sleeve. âyou keep saying that.â
âbecause you keep proving me right.â
âand yet you keep asking for my opinion.â
silence settled between them again, but this time it felt easy, almost tender. then yoongi shifted closer, his knee bumping hers, and said, quieter than before, âmaybe because youâre good at this.â
it was such a simple sentence, but coming from him, it landed like something heavier, something carefully placed in her hands. y/n turned to look at him, and when she did, he was already looking at her too, close enough that she could feel the warmth of him beside her.
âwas that a compliment?â
âdonât make it weird.â
she laughed softly, the sound swallowed by the rain and the low hum of the studio, and yoongi looked away. but not before she saw itâthe small, real smile that touched his mouth and disappeared just as quickly as it came.
the rain was louder now, pounding against the glass like it was trying to get in. y/n felt it vibrate through the floor, through her bones.
she was still holding onto his sleeve. hadn't realized she'd been doing it this whole time.
when he turned back to look at her, their faces were closer than before.
"you know what would be really stupid right now?" yoongi asked softly, his voice nearly drowned out by the rain.
his knee was pressed against hers, his sleeve was clenched in her fist, and his face was inches from hers.
"this," y/n whispered, acknowledging the absolute disaster of making out with the one person she argued with daily.
they were professional rivals. they snapped at each other over lyrics, stole coffee cups, and existed in a constant state of annoyed bickering.
this was breaking every rule theyâd ever established.
yoongi leaned in anyway. "don't overthink it."
his lips brushed against hers once, barely there, testing. like he expected her to pull away. like he expected her to slap him or storm out or throw something at his head.
instead her fingers tightened on his sleeve, tugging him closer.
and instantly regretted being so soft about it.
his touch was never tentative.
just precise and heavy, like he was composing the moment in his head before letting it happen.
he had a way of claiming space without saying a word.
when his hand moved to the back of her neck, it wasn't gentle. his fingers curled into her hair, rough calloused palms against her scalp, anchoring her.
he murmured against her lips, his thumb pressing firmly beneath her ear to tilt her head at the perfect angle.
his kiss deepened immediately, no hesitation, no softness. he kissed like he fought. aggressively and confidently.
her back hit the wallâshe wasnât sure when heâd moved them, only that he had.
the rain was still screaming against the windows, but all she heard was his breathing, harsh and uneven against her mouth.
his thigh shoved between hers, pressing up hard, and she gasped into his kiss.
his other hand was already fumbling with her jeans, pushing them down along with her underwear. cold air hit her bare skin, and she shivered violently.
his tongue slid into her mouth to silence any sound she might make as his fingers slipped inside her without hesitation.
he dropped to his knees in front of her, pulling her legs over his shoulders.
his face buried between her thighs without warning.
his tongue licked from her entrance to her clit, tasting her like he was starving.
his fingers spread her open wide, giving him better access to devour her.
y/n swallowed back a groan. his tongue was too deliberate, too calculatedâhitting each spot like he was programming something inside her. his lips pulled back in that infuriating smirk she knew even blind, and he said it like a threat.
"call me tongue technology, y/n. tell me how fucking good i am."
her fingers knotted in his hair, shaking.
"tongue technology," she gasped out, her head falling back against the wall, fingers tangling desperately in his soft hair. "yoongiâ"
he was too focused. his face pressed against her wetness, his tongue flicking in sharp, precise strokesâlike he was dissecting her, like he was studying every nerve ending, every reaction.
"it'sâit's good!" she panted, hips bucking forward involuntarily. "you'reâ oh my god, yoongi i-"
"too much?" he asked, but didn't stop. his tongue circled her clit slowly, then faster, then slower again. testing her reactions like he was writing a song. his fingers pressed into her thighs hard enough to bruise, holding her open.
"no, noâdon't stop," she managed through clenched teeth. "justâfuck, yoongi."
he looked up at her, face glistening with her wetness, expression distant. and that was the worst part.
he was doing this to her like he was composing a track, detached and calculated, despite how clearly she was crumbling beneath him.
he lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist before she could even process it.
he backed into the studio console, not even caring about the expensive equipment as he pulled her hips onto his.
she was wet and angry and loud, her hands slapping against his chest as she ground against him. "i hate you," she snapped.
he grabbed her hips, tilting her back on the desk. his fingers dug in hard enough to bruise, holding her still.
"hate me all you want," he said, his voice low and rough as he watched her fall apart beneath him. "still the same."
she rolled her hips up, the sound of her wetness hitting the soundproof walls. "fuck you."
"keep talking," he challenged, his hands sliding up her sides to her breasts. "see if i stop."
the rain outside hit its peak, mimicking the pounding in her chest. "go on."
he leaned closer whispering directly against her mouth, but he didn't kiss her
"i wish you were bad at this," she breathed, her voice shaking with frustration and desire. "i wish you weren't so goddamn good at â she gasped as he suddenly thrust up into her âfucking."
the sound of footsteps echoing in the hallway froze them instantly.
y/n went rigid, her heart hammering against her ribs, panic flashing through her eyes. yoongiâs hand slapped over her mouth just as a muffled voice drifted through the door.
he pulled her flush against his chest, both of them going completely still, waiting for the footsteps to pass.
the footsteps faded. silence returned, heavier than before.
y/n exhaled in relief, but her body was still on edgeâstill wound tight, still aching. her fingers curled into his shoulders, trying to stop shaking.
yoongi didn't move. his forehead rested against hers, both breathing hard. the blue monitor light cast sharp shadows across his face.
"we're done for tonight," he said quietly.
his voice was steady, but his hands were still trembling slightly where they gripped her hips. he pulled back just enough to look at herâ eyes dark and unreadable.
y/n nodded, her throat tight. "yeah. yeah, okay."
she swung her legs off the desk, adjusting her clothes with shaky fingers.
neither of them spoke as they straightened up. the studio looked different nowâless like a sanctuary and more like a crime scene. abandoned cups, tangled wires, and the faint scent of them lingering in the air.
y/n zipped her jeans, wincing at the ache between her legs.
yoongi was already pulling his shirt back on, his jaw tight.
the studio had never felt so quiet. usually, y/n liked it that wayâthe hum of the equipment, the rain against the windows, the late-night stillness after everyone left.
tonight, every sound felt sharpened. the clock.
the rain. their breathing. neither of them moved for a second too long, both of them standing in the wreckage of what theyâd just done, both of them pretending they werenât thinking the same thing: this changes everything.
y/n sat on the edge of the desk, staring at the floor. âthis is probably the most embarrassing thing iâve ever done.â yoongi, still across from her, let out a short breath that almost counted as a laugh.
âyou? embarrassed?â she shot him a look.
âdonât start.â his mouth twitched, just barely. âiâm not.â
she shouldâve been annoyed. instead, the sight of that small, reluctant smile made her chest tighten. it was worse than if heâd stayed cold. worse because it felt real.
yoongi looked away first.
of course he did. he could hold a room hostage with a stare, could cut through anyone who challenged him, but thisâthis was different.
y/n watched him drag a hand through his hair, jaw tight, shoulders still tense like he was bracing for impact.
âare you okay?â she asked before she could stop herself. he glanced at her, surprised by the softness in her voice.
âyeah.â she waited. he exhaled through his nose, then said, quieter, âiâm not used to this.â âthis?â his eyes flicked around the studio, to the desk, the cables, the rain-streaked glass, then back to her. âsomeone staying.â
that hit harder than she expected. for once, she didnât joke.
didnât tease him. just looked at him and understood exactly what he wasnât saying. yoongi wasnât cold. he was careful. there was a difference, and now she could see it everywhereâin the way he kept his distance until he didnât, in the way he looked like heâd rather swallow glass
than admit he wanted something. y/n swallowed, her pulse still uneven. âyou know,â she said softly, âyouâre not as intimidating as everyone says.â
one eyebrow lifted. âthat supposed to be a compliment?â
âdonât make it weird.â the words were dry, but his voice had gone rough around the edges.
then he stepped closer, just enough to make her breath catch. âand donât tell anyone about this.â
the warning landed between them like a match struck in the dark. y/n held his gaze.
âdead serious.â his voice dropped lower.
âno one needs to know.â not because he was ashamed, she realized, but because he knew exactly how dangerous it would be if anyone else found out. the rivalry. the teasing. the sex. the way people would turn it into something ugly, something public.
she nodded once, slow. âfine.â
yoongi studied her face like he didnât quite trust the answer. then, after a beat, he looked away again, and that tiny crack in his composure was somehow more intimate than anything else that had happened tonight.
when they finally left the studio, neither of them said what they were thinking. they didnât define it. didnât name it. some things were easier to hide than to explain. but the next day, when y/n walked in and found a coffee waiting beside her notebook, she stopped short.
a few minutes later, yoongi came in like nothing had happened, eyes already on the console, expression unreadable.
she looked at the cup, then at him. he didnât meet her eyes.
didnât have to. the message was clear enough. maybe they would still argue. maybe they would still pretend.
but now there was something under it, something sharp and secret and impossible to ignore. and both of them knew it.
yoongi had always written about things he couldnât sayâanger, loneliness, fear, the parts of himself he usually kept hidden.
but this time was different. every time he looked at the empty lyric sheet in front of him, he didnât see a feeling.
he saw a night. y/n. the way she laughed when she was nervous, the way she challenged him without hesitation, the way she looked at him afterward like she was trying to pretend nothing had changed, even though everything had.
he hated how easily she got under his skin, how she lingered in his head long after sheâd left the room, and he hated even more that he didnât want her to stop.
âhyung?â yoongi looked up from his notebook. namjoon stood by the studio door, watching him with that knowing expression he always seemed to wear when yoongi was being obvious without realizing it. âyouâve been here for hours.â
namjoon glanced at the lyric sheet, then back at yoongi. âon what?â
namjoon smiled slightly, the kind of smile that meant he was already three steps ahead. âyouâre terrible at lying.â
yoongi ignored him, but he didnât close the notebook. he didnât even try to hide it properly. that alone told namjoon enough.
a few days later, yoongi played the track for the others. it was unfinished, still rough around the edges, with a few places where the beat needed tightening and the vocals werenât quite where he wanted them yet. but there was something different about it. something too personal to be accidental.
the room stayed quiet as the last note faded. for a moment, nobody said anything. then hoseok looked over, brows lifting with immediate suspicion.
yoongi already knew that tone. âwhat.â
hoseok pointed at the speakers like they had personally offended him. âis this about y/n?â
silence. too much silence.
yoongi looked away. âno.â
jimin raised an eyebrow. âthat was the fastest ânoâ iâve ever heard.â
âbecause itâs not.â
namjoon leaned forward slightly, eyes scanning the lyrics again. âthe part about someone making you forget how to breathe?â
âthe part about someone getting too close and leaving you wrecked?â jimin added, sounding far too pleased with himself.
supreme boi laughed quietly under his breath. âitâs definitely about her.â
âyouâre all annoying.â
âyou didnât deny it,â jin said, folding his arms with a look that was equal parts amused and victorious.
yoongi sighed, dragging a hand down his face, because that was the problem. he could deny it to them. he could deny it to himself. but he couldnât deny the song. not when every line sounded like a confession he hadnât meant to make.
âyou know whatâs funny?â namjoon said after a beat.
yoongi looked at him. âwhat?â
âyou write about everyone else like youâre trying to understand them.â
a pause settled over the room again, quieter this time.
âbut this is the first time youâve written about someone who got under your skin enough to change the way you write.â
yoongi didnât reply, because he hated how accurate that was. hated that namjoon could say it so simply, like it wasnât the kind of truth that made his chest feel tight.
later that night, y/n walked into the studio.
the door clicked shut behind her, and yoongiâs shoulders went rigid before he could stop himself.
âwhat are you working on?â
yoongi immediately minimized the screen. too quickly. she noticed. of course she noticed. her eyes flicked to the monitor, then back to him, sharp and curious in that way that always made him feel like she could see straight through him.
she crossed her arms. âyouâre terrible at lying.â
for a second, he just looked at her. really looked at her. the tired eyes, the loose hair, the expression that always seemed to hover between challenge and concern whenever she was around him.
then he laughed quietly, because somehow hearing her say that felt familiar. too familiar.
âyou spend too much time with namjoon.â
âand you spend too much time pretending you donât care.â
the words caught him off guard, because she always did that. she always found the things he tried to hide, always pressed at the seams until something honest slipped through.
it was infuriating. it was unfair. it was also, unfortunately, one of the reasons he couldnât stop writing about her.
y/n smiled softly, like she already knew more than she was saying. âone day, youâre going to write a song that admits you actually have feelings.â
yoongi looked back at his computer, jaw tightening just enough to be noticeable if you were paying attention. âmaybe i already did.â
but he only shook his head, one corner of his mouth twitching like he regretted saying anything at all. ânothing.â
and for once⊠she didnât push.
because somehow, she knew.
a few months later, the studio still looked the same. the same dim lights, the same abandoned coffee cups, the same stacks of lyric sheets covering every empty space.
but somehow, everything felt different.
y/n sat on the couch, listening to the final version of the song through her headphones. she had heard countless versions of itâthe first rough demo, the unfinished melody, the version where yoongi changed the same line twenty times because âsomething was missing.â
but this one was different. this one sounded complete.
when the last note faded, she slowly took off the headphones. yoongi was watching her, waiting. he always did that.
he acted like he didnât care, but whenever she listened to his music, he watched her reaction more carefully than anyone elseâs.
y/n smiled. âi hate it.â
yoongi immediately narrowed his eyes. âyou always say that.â
âbecause you always know what i mean.â
a small smile appeared on his face. âso?â
she looked at the screen. âi think this is the first song youâve made where you stopped hiding.â
the room went quiet. because that was still the thing she did. she still saw the parts of him nobody else noticedâthe things he didnât say, the feelings he buried inside melodies.
yoongi looked away. âyou always make things sound more dramatic than they are.â
âand you always make things sound less important than they are.â
he didnât argue, which was basically admitting she was right.
yoongi looked back. âwhat?â
y/n tilted her head. âyour hair.â
she laughed. âwhat? iâm just saying.â she pointed at his mint-colored hair. âit still looks good.â
âyouâve said that before.â
âbecause itâs still true.â
yoongi shook his head. âyouâre strange.â
âyou like that about me.â
the answer came too quickly. âyeah.â
both of them froze, because he actually said it.
y/n stared at him. yoongi looked away, suddenly very interested in the computer screen.
âdonât make it weird.â
she smiled, because that was his favorite thing to say whenever he accidentally revealed too much. but this time, she didnât let him hide behind it. she stood up from the couch and crossed the small space between them, stopping right in front of him.
yoongi looked at her, expression unreadable, though his eyes had gone a little softer than before. âyouâre doing that thing again,â she murmured.
âpretending you didnât just say something important.â
he exhaled through his nose, almost a laugh. âand youâre doing that thing where you make everything sound bigger than it is.â
âmaybe because it is.â
for a second, neither of them moved. the studio felt too quiet again. the rain tapped softly against the windows. the city glowed behind them.
yoongiâs gaze dropped to her mouth, then back to her eyes, like he was deciding whether to say something or run from it. he did neither. instead, he reached up slowly, brushing his thumb against her cheek. the touch was so careful it almost hurt.
y/nâs breath caught. âyoongi,â she whispered, but it didnât sound like a warning. it sounded like a question.
his voice came out low. âyouâre going to make me say it.â
he looked at her for a long moment. then, finally, he smiled. small. soft. honest.
the words landed between them like a confession he had been carrying for too long.
y/nâs expression changed instantly. all the teasing in her face faded into something warmer, something quieter. âgood,â she said, barely above a whisper.
yoongi blinked. âgood?â
âyeah.â she smiled, and this time it wasnât smug or playful. it was real. âbecause i like you too.â
yoongi leaned in first, like he had finally stopped overthinking it. the kiss was gentle at first, almost hesitant, as if both of them were still afraid this might disappear if they moved too fast. but then y/nâs hand found his sleeve, and yoongiâs fingers slid to her waist, and the kiss deepened just enough to make the whole room feel like it had tilted slightly off its axis.
it wasnât rushed. it wasnât perfect. it was better than perfect. it was them.
when they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathing a little harder than before. y/n rested her forehead against his for a second, smiling despite herself.
âso,â she said softly, âwas that weird?â
yoongi let out a quiet laugh. âa little.â
she grinned. âyouâre still terrible at this.â
âyou kissed me back.â
âbecause you started it.â
y/nâs smile widened. âyeah.â
and this time, when he looked at her, he didnât look away.
later that night, after everyone left, yoongi stayed behind. as usual. but this time, y/n stayed too.
they sat in comfortable silence, sharing one pair of headphones like they had done so many times before. the rain outside was soft, the city lights blurred against the window, and for once, neither of them needed to argue.
because somewhere between the late nights and unfinished songs, they had become something neither of them expected. not rivals. not just coworkers. something else. something that didnât need a name yet.
yoongi looked at the lyric sheet on the desk, the one that had started everything. âyou know,â he said quietly.
âi never played this song for anyone else.â
y/n looked at him. âwhy me?â
he was quiet for a moment. then he smiled slightly. âbecause you were the only person who would have heard it.â
and somehow, that meant more than any confession.
because y/n finally understood. yoongi never wrote songs because he wanted people to know him. he wrote songs because he was waiting for someone who could.
and somehow⊠she became that person.
the funny thing about y/n and yoongi was that nothing really changed. and somehow, everything did.
they still argued in the studio. they still disagreed over lyrics. they still stole each otherâs coffee and complained about it afterward.
âyou changed my line.â
y/n looked up from the notebook in her hands. âbecause it needed changing.â
yoongi stared at her. âyouâre unbelievable.â
âand yet youâre still asking for my opinion.â
he opened his mouth, then stopped, because unfortunately, she was right. again.
the members noticed immediately. of course they did. they had watched this happen from the beginning: the constant bickering, the way yoongi pretended not to care while remembering every tiny detail about her, the way y/n claimed he was impossible while always ending up beside him.
so when y/n walked into the practice room one morning wearing yoongiâs hoodie, there was exactly three seconds of silence.
jimin smiled. y/n froze. âwhat?â
hoseok pointed at the hoodie. ânothing.â
namjoon looked between her and yoongi. âactually, a lot.â
yoongi sighed. âdonât start.â
jin crossed his arms, looking far too pleased. âwe didnât say anything.â
âour faces are very honest.â
y/n looked at yoongi. âdid they always know?â
a pause. yoongi looked away. âprobably.â
âtheyâre annoying.â
from across the room, everyone immediately protested, and y/n laughed. because somehow, seeing him like this felt strangeânot because he was different, but because she was finally seeing the parts of him he usually kept hidden.
later that evening, they sat in the studio together. the same place where everything had started. the same room where they had argued over songs, challenged each other, and slowly learned each other.
y/n looked around. âkind of funny.â
yoongi glanced at her. âwhat?â
âi used to think you hated me.â
a small smile appeared on his face. âyou were wrong.â
âi know.â she smiled. âi figured that out eventually.â
âyou werenât exactly easy to understand.â
yoongi leaned back in his chair. âneither were you.â
she looked surprised. âme?â
âiâm literally an open book.â
âexactly.â he looked at her. âyou show everyone everything.â
his voice softened slightly. âbut you never showed anyone when you were scared.â
that made her quiet. because he noticed. of course he noticed. he always did.
the rain started again that night, soft against the windows, the same sound that had filled the studio the first time everything changed. but now, there was no uncertainty. no pretending. no wondering what they were.
y/n rested her head against his shoulder. âyou know something?â
âi still like your hair.â
yoongi closed his eyes. âagain?â
âyouâve told me so many times.â
âbecause itâs still true.â
he shook his head, but she could hear the smile in his voice. âyouâre weird.â
âyou like that about me.â
this time, he didnât take it back.
yoongi had spent years writing songs about what he couldnât say. with y/n, he didnât have to. she understood the silence between his words, the feelings he never gave anyone else. and for the first time, that was enough.
because y/n was the one person who could hear him even when he said nothing at all.
