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A/N: It’s getting heated,,,
— Roommate!Yoongi x reader, Social media/written au —
Summary: Being an impulsive teenager was never really your kind of thing. At least, not until you stumble upon a craigslist ad for a cheap apartment in Seoul that seems almost too good to be true. Despite your family’s desperate pleads for you to stay away from the big city, you pack your bags and move across the country to find a roommate who isn’t everything you’d hoped for…
As soon as the clock strikes 14:45, the first couple of students stand up. I quickly join them and swing my bag over my shoulder.
“Watch out!” Someone says from behind me as I move toward the staircase, I mutter an apology without looking back.
Hurrying down the staircase I dodge between students, doing my best not to stumble and fall. If I’m late at the interview, I’m going to make a bad impression, and there’s nothing like a bad impression to ruin your chances.
I’m the first student to reach the door, so I slam my body against it forcefully, making my wrists ache from the impact.
I don’t give it a second thought as I rush down the hallway to the back entrance. I can cross over the football fields, which will surely save me two minutes or more.
Constant apologies fly out of my mouth as I pump into people right and left. A sigh of relief escapes me when I see the exit marked with a vibrantly green fire exit sign above it.
I push it open and instantly I’m hit by the hard breeze. I stumble back. A very solid breeze.
My arms flail in the air and I grab hold of the first thing I touch. I clutch the soft material between my fingers, pulling it to me forcefully in a desperate attempt to catch my balance.
I hear a bewildered ‘humpfh’.
My eyes are squeezed shut and all I can think while falling to the ground is: “Is this Cashmere?”. The same instant iI hit the ground, I hear the unmistakable sound of tearing clothes. My mind flashes back to the time my soccer shorts had torn in front of my entire team during a school competition two years ago.
I begin to mentally prepare myself for going to a job interview with ripped pants, when I open my eyes and stare directly into the eyes of the last person I was hoping to see today.
The corners of his mouth turns down while his brown eyes shoot daggers at me. His body isn’t touching mine - he seems to have caught himself a few centimeters above me.
I glance down and see the torn hem of his sweater.
The tear reveals a the top of his chest and his entire collar bone.
Heat pushes into my cheeks as I continue to gawk at his exposed skin. I feel the heat in my face spreading through my body is a rush, leaving goosebumps on every inch. A feeling overcomes me, one that I’d never thought a person that I hate this much could bring out.
I shiver - out of disgust or something way deeper is beyond me.
After another moment I realize that I’m still underneath him, and that I seriously need to move.
I scramble backwards, accidentally knocking my knee into his stomach.
He winces and clutches his stomach tightly.
My eyes follow his every movement as he stands up.
Thoughts - unwelcome thoughts - keeps crossing my mind, and I catch myself staring at his bared collar bone.
I meet his intense scowl with a blatant look on my face, his look makes my skin crawl and my stomach coil.
“Stop being in my way,” he spits at me, shaking his dark hair back into place. The look in his eyes is full of loathing as he decides I’m not worth any more of his precious time. He steps over me, almost stepping on my fingers in the process.
I sit on the ground, my mouth opening and closing silently as I watch him walk away. I can feel the vibrations from his footsteps through the floor.
Everything about him - his posture, his walk, his bawled up fists - tells me that I’m no longer just disliked by Yoongi, he clearly hates me down to the bone.
“I’m sorry about Yoongi,” A voice says from beside me. My head snaps back and before me stands another guy. He’s rather petite, with a white silk blouse and faded pink hair.
I’ve definitely seen him before. Maybe we’re in one of the same classes.
“Don’t worry about it,” I push myself to my feet, brushing the dust off my pants, which are thankfully intact, “I’m already getting used to his flamboyant mood.”
The guy snorts, “The last word I would use to describe Yoongi is probably flamboyant.”
I grin at him, when I suddenly remember why I was in a hurry to get out the backdoor in the first place, “I have to go,” I announce and storm past him.
A long line of curse words explode from my mouth, words that would probably have earned me a week of house arrest if my mom had heard it.
I run until my entire body is aching and screaming for me to stop. My eyes are watering by the point I see the music store. A million excuses for being late run though my mind.
My body collides with the door that says “No strings attatched” in a scribbly font. The bell goes off as I enter, panting loudly.
The radio in the store is playing “Born to Run” by Bruce Springsteen and a grunt of laughter escapes me, how fitting.
Two pairs of eyes stare at me from across the room. I recognise Jin, but not the person he’s talking to.
I lift my hand and wave, still too breathless to speak.
I take a deep breath, “I’m..” I gasp for air, “y/n.” I try to put on my best “I’m-okay-even-though-my-lungs-seem-to-have-forgotten-how-to-breathe” smile and walk on over.
“Here we go,” I murmur to myself.
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