Archive of Our Own

He was making every part of your life revolve around him, and you just thought it was him being in love with you.  

You were fine with it when he rushed you into a sexual relationship with him, and you were fine with it when he wanted you to move in with him. Your apartment building wasn’t safe, someone could break in, there were shootings in that neighborhood all the time. He needed to keep you safe.  

It only took him 2 months from the day you met to get you living with him, sleeping in his bed every night, letting him use you and your body in whatever way he’d wanted, because this is what love is, right? Two months after that, you weren’t allowed to have your job anymore. There were too many men that looked at you at the bar you were waitress at. Too many men who’d ask for your number, too many men trying to grab you, trying to talk to you, trying to fuck you.  

They all wanted you, and you were just too stupid to see it. You were naive and sweet and innocent, and all those men all wanted one thing from you. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, no, not at all. He couldn’t trust them, what they’d do to you in your fragile state. You were still healing from trauma, even if before you had met him, you would have considered yourself mostly healed.  

The urge to start self-harming again came up so often, even if you hadn’t done it in years. You couldn’t get the thoughts out of your head as you were isolated in his house, not allowed to leave unless he came with you. Not allowed to talk to anyone, not without permission anyways.  

You’d do anything for him, and the way he loved you. The way he’d bring you so high up, just to take it all away, leaving you drowning, begging for his love again, for his gentle praise and his hands on you. You needed him, and he had you just where he wanted you.  

The only person you’d ever seen aside from him was Hoseok. Hoseok was his weed dealer. He’d come to the house once a week stay for a little, have a conversation and maybe smoke a little before he left, a bright smile on his face as he went. You loved these little weekly visits, as they were the only time you got to see someone other than Zeke. Not that you didn’t like spending time with him, but it was nice to see someone new.  

Hoseok however, hated coming over to sell to Zeke.  

It wasn’t something he’d ever minded in the past, having been his dealer for a few years now, but it started to get worse and worse whenever he’d met you.  

Hoseok was there the day Zeke had first noticed you, weeks before he’d officially introduced himself to you. The bar you used to work at was a place they’d frequented. They’d party there together, or just go to hang out for a little on the weekends, but he could immediately tell a difference in him from the second he saw you.  

It was easy to ignore the differences in him, as Hoseok was never the biggest fan. Mostly just hanging out with someone who bought from him a lot to make sure he kept a customer.  

But he really loved when he started talking to you, because you were one of the sweetest people he’d ever met. He loved spending time with you, not that he was interested in you; you were just sweet and funny, always good company.  

But then, things started changing. Changing fast.  

He’d be excited to meet Zeke at the bar, hoping you’d be their waitress so he could talk to you some more. But then you stopped working there. Fine, fine, he usually met Zeke in his apartment anyways and you were there most of the time, so he’d still get to see you, your bubbly personality and your bright smile always shining through as soon as you saw him.  

But you wouldn’t smile as much, and when you did, it was never quite as bright as it had been when you first met. You didn’t tell as many jokes or laugh at many of his. You wore baggier clothes and curled yourself up into a ball on the couch next to Zeke, who seemed to treat you more like a pet than a girlfriend.  

You looked at him when you wanted to speak, as if asking permission. That was when he couldn’t handle it anymore. He watched you go from one of the most lively, outgoing, charismatic, and sweetest people he’d ever met to a lifeless husk, barely strong enough to have any original thoughts.  

He’d watched this man ruin your life in less than a year, and he did absolutely nothing to stop it.  

Any time he tried to talk to you when Zeke wasn’t there, try to figure out what was going on, if there was any way he could help you, Zeke would always show back up just as he felt he was getting somewhere. He’d show back up and push you back the hall, out of sight.  

As if no longer seeing you meant he hadn’t previously seen the bruises peeking out of the holes in your jeans.  

So, he stopped going when Zeke texted him. Made up excuses every time so he wouldn’t have to feel the guilt that always surrounded him when he saw you.  

He decided to talk about it with one of his good friends one day when they were hanging out at the bar you used to work at. Zeke had messaged him, asking if he was around and Hoseok sighed loudly at the sight of his number appearing in his phone. His gaze narrowed down at the screen before he clenched his jaw and clicked off his phone, tossing it back down onto the table in front of him before he leaned his elbows on the table, bringing his hands up to cover his mouth as his leg bounced under the table.  

“Who’s got you so pissed off, Hoba?” Yoongi cocked his brow as he took a drink, eyeing his usually level-headed friend. Hoseok closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before he let his hands fall back down, hands gripping onto his beer and swirling it around the frosty glass.  

“Just this guy I stopped selling to,” he didn’t bring his eyes up to meet Yoongi’s, knowing if he did he’d have to elaborate. Yoongi didn’t push him any further, but Hoseok decided he wanted to share it anyway. “Zeke, the one whose girlfriend used to work here,” Yoongi nodded, vaugly remembering the name and waitress. Hoseok had pointed you out to him a time or two when you still worked here, but it had been a while. 

Hoseok thought for a second, about to proceed with telling Yoongi all about you, and how he felt bad for not saying something to someone sooner, but he stopped himself.  

Yoongi was also a dealer, and a much more high-profile one at that. He always carried around a gun and had no problem telling people off, especially if they were buying anything less than a QP, and Zeke never bought more than an ounce at a time.  

If he just told him about you, Yoongi would just say “yeah, that sucks” and they’d move on. But if he saw it.... 

Maybe he could try to pawn Zeke off on Yoongi. Get Zeke off his back, and when Yoongi saw you, he’d no doubt do something.  

So, that’s exactly what he did.  

“I heard him say something slick to her the last time I was there. Nothing serious, just not someone I’d really want to associate with, you know?” Yoongi nodded again, knowing how likely this story was considering how pissed off Hoseok had been only moments ago. “Maybe you could sell to him? Just once at least, so I can figure out whether I can afford to drop him or not,”  

Yoongi thought for a second, trying to remember how much weed he still had before going to his distributer next week.  

“How much does he need?” Hoseok unlocked his phone and opened the conversation with Zeke.  

“An ounce, I usually charge him 250,”  

“Tell him I’ll charge 275, but I can be at his place in an hour,” Hoseok nodded and sent Zeke the text, which he thankfully had the money and was willing to pay it. 

“Just texted you his address, though you can be a little late, he’s kind of a dick anyways,”  

- 

Yoongi didn't like the look of you when he walked through the door.  

He didn't like that you looked so goddamn stiff, uncomfortable even as soon as you saw him.  

At first, he thought it was him making you uncomfortable; you judging him, a man you did not know for being there. But Yoongi didn't need to be there for more than two minutes before he realized that it wasn't him making you nervous. No, but the guy that had taken a seat next to you, the guy whose house you had been in. The guy you had been living with.  

You sat idly as he scooted in closer to you, spreading his legs out and pulled one of yours onto his before he rubbed up and back the length of it. He kept making lewd comments about your body as if you weren't there, and you laughed along with any joke he told, your eyes never leaving your neatly folded hands that sat in your lap.  

Yoongi was disgusted as he watched the man claiming to "own" you continue to do whatever he wanted to you, touch you and speak to and about you as he pleased. Yoongi could see why Hoseok had sent him over here, and it wasn’t just because of a slick comment. He’d always been more ballsy and ready to take more risks than Hoseok had, never really willing to stand for any bullshit, and this was most certainly included in that.  

You were sitting opposite each other, his eyes sneaking glances at you anytime Zeke looked away. The small talk had ended, and Zeke stood to go get the money from his bedroom, at the opposite end of the house. As soon as he was out of earshot, you spoke.  

“You're a friend of Hoseok's’?” Yoongi nodded softly, a little taken back by your sudden friendliness. Zeke had stopped letting you be alone with Hoseok, so it had been weeks since you’d spoken with anyone. “How’s he doing?” 

“He’s really good, he just couldn’t make it today. Scheduling conflict, you know how it is,” You nodded and smiled, moving your eyes back and forth between the hallways and Yoongi.  

“Would you tell him I said hi?” Yoongi nodded his head, brow furrowed as he pulled his phone out.  

“If you want, I could give you his phone number,” You very quickly shook your head, still looking at the hallway behind Yoongi to keep an eye out for Zeke.  

“No, I don’t have a phone–”  

“You don’t have a phone?” You bit your lip lightly, shaking your head as Yoongi eyed you.  

“Just tell him I'm okay,” You fell back into the couch as you heard Zeke walking back down the hallway. Yoongi followed suit, quickly busying himself with his phone. He pulled up Hoseok’s contact and started typing as Zeke sat back down.  

You said he was an asshole, not a fucking dictator– 

“What’d I miss?” Zeke asked as he sat, beginning to count his money.  

“Not much; Hoseok texted. Wanted me to apologize for him not being here again,” Zeke gave a half-hearted smile, looking back at you to make sure your eyes were still down, that you were still behaving.  

“It’s fine, Hoseok’s an old friend of mine. We go way back, he’ll just owe me one,” Zeke threw the counted money onto the table that separated them, before his hand went to your thigh, slightly lifting the material of the skirt you had been wearing to reveal the edge of a giant purple and black bruise on your thigh. He squeezed down onto it, turning a loving gesture into something that made Yoongi’s blood boil.  

Fuck it.  

Yoongi pulled the weed out of his pocket and threw it down onto the table next to the money and stood, hands in his pockets as he spoke calmly.  

"Your shits free if you let her leave with me," Zeke looked back and forth between the two of you, your head down as you could feel the anger beginning to radiate off of him, his fingers digging deeper into your skin.  

"What the fuck are you talking about man? What the fuck did you do?" He turned to look at you, his voice coming out a muffled growl as he tried to scare you into answering him.  

"I said," Yoongi spoke up again, this time as he pulled a gun out of the waistband of his jeans, switching the safety off as he pointed it at Zeke’s head. "Your shits free if you let her come with me."