pairing(s):yoongi x reader, seokjin x reader, ??? x reader
summary: Kim Seokjin reveals his true colors. Min Yoongi freeloads off his roommate (just a little). Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook make an appearance.
warnings:non-idol!AU; in which everyone makes bad choices; slow burn; rated M (18+) for language, mentions of drug use, violence, mentions of depression, abusive relationship
See prologue for notes. I am not condoning any of this behavior, in case that wasn’t abundantly clear.
–
“I’m telling you; the public is changing. They want accessibility.”
“They want to get high, Seokjin.”
He grinned. He was alone this time, standing next to the window in his expensive suit. He honestly didn’t need to be in a suit, but he wore it because he knew he looked good in it.
“They still don’t want to get caught.”
She snorted, an inelegant sound that made Seokjin frown. She couldn’t say more so she just looked away from him. He moved away from the window and stepped towards her, taking note of the bucket hat and loose jeans. Brown belt, big loose black sweater.
“You could have at least dressed up for me.”
He saw her lips twist into a pout and she looked up at him with those black holes, viewing him from under the hat.
“Does it matter?” she replied sharply.
He smiled at her.
“Is the problem money? Do you need me to gift you some pretty dresses?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “I don’t need money and you know that.”
He leaned down just a bit and felt her stiffen at his closeness. “Then why are you here?” His eyes flickered up to hers but she wasn’t watching. She was purposefully looking away from him.
“Just give me the fucking pills then,” she mumbled.
“That’s a good girl.”
And he pulled his gun away from her stomach before turning around and giving her the package in a reusable grocery bag.
-
She sat slumped in the train seat, bucket hat over her eyes. It was like she wasn’t even there – people passed by her without giving a second glance. That was the point. She always kept her dark hair and her clothes plain, a forgettable existence to anyone who could be watching.
She didn’t believe Seokjin was an evil person. Not really. Maybe in a different parallel timeline, he was a cheerful person who brought happiness and joy to everyone he met. But not this Kim Seokjin. No, this Kim Seokjin was her drug supplier and it wasn’t a cheerful profession, if one could even call it that.
She doubted Seokjin would actually shoot her. After all, if he wanted to fuck like he claimed, it would be hard with a bloody hole in her stomach.
It wasn’t a theory she was willing to test in the moment though.
She had argued with him because she didn’t want to deal different substances. Quite frankly, she didn’t think she could do this anymore. As if on cue, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out to see a notification on her lock screen. She bit her lip.
She had thought about changing her lock screen many times but each time she saw his smile, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
You’re so pathetic, she thought to herself.
She put in her password and looked at her texts. It was simply labelled, Guide. That’s what Seokjin was named on her phone.
Miss you, Moon.
She shoved her phone back into her pocket and tried not to think about it.
-
Yoongi let out a groan and pressed his forehead onto the front door. He barely made rent this month. It was due in three days and he barely had enough in his account to pay rent and have one meal. One meal. He didn’t know how he was going to survive at this rate. The plastic bag with his one convenience store meal banged against the door and he jumped.
Sighing at his own plight, he punched in the code and entered the apartment. He staggered back, immediately hit by the delicious smell of…
Beef.
Grilled beef.
He blinked, looking around the apartment.
There was his roommate, standing next to the stove. Loose grey sweatshirt and matching sweatpants with a cream apron cinching in her waist. Hips swinging to the beat that was playing in her Bluetooth headphones as she turned over the strips of beef, oil popping and sizzling. The smoke was drifting out of the open window but the smell pervaded throughout.
Words couldn’t describe how jealous he was right now.
He looked down and closed the door, staring at his pathetic little boxed lunch through the plastic. Frustration and annoyance threatened to overwhelm him. He wanted to hurl it at the wall. Why couldn’t he have her life? Not a care in the world, dancing away as she cooked that delicious-smelling beef while he was stuck in his shitshow of a–
“Oh, Yoongi.”
His head snapped up at his name. She was staring at him with the headphones around her neck. Black holes staring at him. He felt suddenly exposed, as if she could read his thoughts.
She gestured with her tongs. “You want some beef?”
He raised a hand, chuckling slightly as he shook his head. “No… No, it’s fine. It’s your food.”
And then his stomach growled so loudly that he himself looked down to stare at it. It was even louder than the sizzling beef. He had never been so betrayed by his bodily functions in his life. And his dick had chosen in some weird girls in his time.
She laughed, the first time he had ever heard her laugh. It made her eyes crinkle up and her shoulders shake, a laugh that made those dead eyes disappear for just a second. She tilted her head just a bit and grinned, shaking her head.
“I’ll prepare another bowl for you.”
He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, disturbing his beanie. “I’ll do the dishes then.”
“Sounds like a deal.”
He placed his boxed lunch in the fridge – a bit further in the back – and sat awkwardly at one of the stools at the counter. She placed a bowl of rice in front of him and handed him a plate of four thick slices of beef. He could feel himself drooling at the sight. She leaned forward just a bit and he realized she must have noticed. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand hastily.
“Hmm.” She was smiling at him.
Shit.
She placed a fifth piece of meat on his rice and shook her head, still chuckling. There was a plate of kimchi on the table too. He looked at it and she noticed that too.
“Go ahead. Store bought.”
He took a bite of the beef first. He swore his eyes rolled back into his head. Seasoned, cooked with some pink in the middle. It was like a flavor explosion in his mouth. Maybe it wasn’t actually that good, but he hadn’t had freshly cooked meat in so long that he had forgotten what it tasted like.
He chewed gratefully, slowly opening his eyes. He was going to say something but she was staring at her phone, looking troubled. She was picking meat off the pan, chewing hurriedly.
“It’s… really good.”
She looked up at him and raised her eyebrows. “Hm? Oh. It’s just marinated beef. There’s some left in the fridge if you want it for dinner.”
Please, oh God, yes. “No, no, I couldn’t eat your food,” he said awkwardly, not really believing in his own words.
She shrugged. “You should cook it. I probably won’t be home until late.” She looked back at her phone; eyes fixated on the screen. She seemed to be concentrating on something. Then she abruptly put her phone down. “You do know how to cook, right?”
He nodded quickly. “Uh, yeah. My brother is a chef. He taught me the basics.”
“Oh.” She looked a bit embarrassed at her own question. “Good. I won’t come to a burned down apartment then.”
It was then they realized they knew very little about each other. She looked awkward and shoved her phone in her pocket before she continued eating. He stared back down at his rice and continued chewing. Fuck. It tasted really good.
“I noticed you’ve been eating a lot of convenience store food.”
He winced. “Yeah…”
She poked the end of her chopsticks at him. “You should make more food at home. All that packaging is bad for the environment,” she said sternly.
“Ah… yeah.”
She finished the last bit of her rice and set the pan and bowl in the sink, running water over them with a bit of soap.
“I have to go.”
He nodded awkwardly. She left the kitchen to go to her room. He let out an exasperated sigh after she closed the door. He wasn’t really sure why he couldn’t talk to her that well. It wasn’t like he was weird around girls. Maybe it was that unapproachable feeling surrounding her.
Or maybe it was because he knew he had to pay her soon.
She came back out dressed in the same sweatpants and an open black hoodie. His eyes widened when he noticed she was wearing a white crop top underneath. She slung a small duffel bag against her shoulder. It was actually a very attractive look on her.
She turned and he saw she was fresh faced, with minimal makeup. She walked over to him, staring straight at him. No, not him.
She plucked the grey beanie off his head.
“I’m gonna borrow this.”
-
“Jimin, I am not upping your order.”
Those perfectly plump lips curved into a pout. “Moonie, pleaaaase? Pretty please?”
She raised an eyebrow and shook her head. “No. I brought your current order with me and I didn’t bring extra. I told you before–”
“I know, I know… A dead customer isn’t a paying customer.”
Well, actually my saying is a dead addict isn’t a paying addict. They were standing at the edge of the dance studio. It was already closed, so the windows were dark and no one was around. The particular corner they stood at couldn’t be seen by the windows. She tapped her sneaker against the hardwood. Park Jimin, dance choreographer and current customer, rubbed the back of his head sheepishly and handed her a cheap blue plastic water bottle. She was wearing her black gloves but had no problem screwing the lid open. She looked inside, satisfied to see the correct amount. She was good at that. She tucked it away in her duffel bag and handed him the small brown paper bag in response, pills tucked in a believable prescription bottle.
“Thanks, Moon. I really needed this.”
Her brows furrowed as he opened the bottle hastily and took one right there in front of her. His orange hair stuck to his forehead, probably due to sweat, but it made him look desperate.
“Jimin, if you need them that bad, you should go see a doctor.”
He winced as he chugged down a gulp of water. “I know. I know… It’s just… award season is coming soon. I need to stay busy.”
She wanted to punch him. You fucking idiot, you’re going to kill yourself.
“Hey, um… I was wondering if you still take on customers? I know a guy…”
She rolled her eyes. “Jimin, please keep your trap shut for your safety and mine. Do you want to get arrested?”
“Are you the one doing the arresting?”
A new, deep voice penetrated the room. A cocky smile and an all-black shadow drifted into the room. The black sweatshirt was so huge it might as well have been a blanket. Dark brown eyes and dark brown hair, slightly long and damp.
She shoved her hands in her black hoodie and glared at Jimin. “You best believe the Guide will hear about this.”
Fear flashed in Jimin’s eyes. “No, wait. Wait, Jungkook–”
“Is this her? Your dealer?” His eyes raked down her frame, briefly fixating on her white crop top. She only wore it because she knew Jimin wasn’t going to mess with her – Seokjin made sure of that – but she hadn’t counted on someone else appearing. “She’s a cute little thing, isn’t she?”
Jimin smacked his chest, trying to push him back. “Stop. You can’t flirt with her,” he warned.
A muscle in her leg tensed. She thought about running but it was better to diffuse the situation.
“Why not?” The one named Jungkook grinned. “Hey, can you hook me up with some of the fun stuff? Not like what Jimin-ssi has here… You know. The fun shit.”
You little– “If you want the fun shit, you have to pay fun shit prices.”
He smiled at her. She did not like it. Not one bit.
“Yeah?”
He took a step towards her. And another. He was trying to back her against the wall, but she stood her ground. Every muscle in her body was tensed. She knew enough to avoid getting her ass kicked by the regular guy. Maybe a little more. He looked down at her, lips curled into a sly smirk. He had a jawline that could cut by itself. He was wearing a gentle cologne and, to be honest, he was attractive, which would be a shame if she had to break that nose.
“Maybe we can strike a deal?”
“Jungkook, I swear, if you even so much as put a finger on her,” Jimin said sternly. She could hear the warning in the shorter male’s voice. It was pretty frightening considering Jimin was one of her more cheerful customers.
Jungkook grinned and backed off. “I’m just kidding.”
She looked away from him and glowered at Jimin. He shook his head.
“Please don’t tell him,” he pleaded.
She looked back at Jungkook, who seemed quite smug about it all. Without warning, she swiftly kicked the back of his knees, making him stumble and cry out.
“Moon, please–”
Another swift chop straight to the sternum and Jungkook was on his knees, gasping for air. She held her fist centimeters from Jungkook’s face, making him freeze. Jimin hovered around, concerned, but it seemed like he was more concerned about her then Jungkook. And within those seconds of exchange, she realized two things.
One, Jungkook was fit. Really fit. And two, if she didn’t have surprise, then she probably would have bitten off more than she could chew. And that would mean…
She clutched her duffel bag and sent Jungkook her most scorching glare.
“Don’t get yourself involved in shit way over your head, kid.”
And, of course, instead of being apologetic or even angry, Jungkook smiled, licking his lips.
“Okay, noona.”
Later, when she was sitting in her room, she really wished she had just punched him.
-
“Are you coming to my party?” The phone quality didn’t hide the honey in Seokjin’s voice.
“No.”
She could almost hear his pout. “You never come anymore. We used to have such fun. You, me, and–”
She cut him off. “Did you talk to Jimin?”
His tone instantly darkened. “I did. He was very apologetic.”
She made a noise of disapproval.
“I didn’t break anything this time.”
“This time,” she echoed. “What about the brat?”
Seokjin brightened. “We had a little discussion. He’ll be a new customer soon.”
She wanted to strangle him. “Seokjin, I toldyou–”
“You only serve a few customers and you complain about one? One rowdy little thing?”
“This rowdy little thing is going to be trouble,” she warned.
“Don’t worry, my darling,” Seokjin cooed. “I made it very clear you’re mine.”
“I’m n–” And of course he hung up before she could say anything else. She glared at her phone and growled. She didn’t throw it, but she wanted to.
pairing(s): yoongi x reader, seokjin x reader, ??? x reader
summary:Min Yoongi is in luck when a super cheap room is up for rent. Or maybe not.
warnings: non-idol!AU; in which everyone makes bad choices; slow burn; rated M (18+) for language, mentions of drug abuse, depression and suicidal thoughts, abusive relationships, eventual smut
note: Main character is female. I use ‘she’ instead of ‘you’ in this case because I’m more comfortable writing the omnipresent POV. You are welcome to think of ‘she’ as yourself or an OC. Her name is never explicitly mentioned. The character’s appearance is set to fit the story and her role.
–
When he saw the ad online, he couldn’t believe the price. It had to be a joke. There had to be hidden fees or something wrong with the room. He was preparing himself for disappointment. It was too good to be true. As he arrived to the neat complex, he checked around for anything sketchy. It was eerily quiet as he knocked.
“Min Yoongi, right?”
The woman who greeted him at the door was calm and polite. She was wearing a large baggy gray sweatshirt and black pants with black slippers. He guessed she was around his age. Long dark hair, tied in a low ponytail. A plain, almost forgettable face. Almost, if it wasn’t for her piercing dark eyes. They were like bottomless pits, as if he was staring into a pair of black holes. He looked away quickly, somewhat perturbed.
“Uh… yeah. I’m here to look at the room.”
He needed this. After being kicked out of his last apartment, he couldn’t go home. He had to have something to show his parents that he could be successful in the music industry. But after producing a few remote albums and tracks, he barely had anything. Not to mention getting ripped off multiple times had him in this sticky financial situation. He bit his lip as he stepped into the apartment, looking around anxiously.
It was actually a very empty apartment. The center room was a living room and kitchen combination but there was no living room furniture, only a record player and boxes of records on a large bookshelf against the wall. The kitchen had two black stools at the counter. It was clean and neat, almost military. She gestured to the right, to the open door.
“This is the room,” the woman was saying quietly. “Bathroom is around the corner.”
There was no furniture in the room. Absolutely none. He tilted his head, looking around. The hardwood floors shone and despite how clean it was, he could see nick marks in the wood. He almost breathed in relief. At least there was some evidence someone lived here.
“Why hasn’t the room been rented out yet?” he asked, turning to the woman. “It looks nice.”
She was watching him carefully. It was unsettling. “Because I have rules that the tenant must agree to.”
Here we go. “What rules?”
Her eyes were fixated on him, blinking very sparingly. She held a hand up, counting with her fingers. “One: no people over. None. No friends, no family, no fuckbuddies. You want to fuck someone, do it at their place,” she stated with a completely straight face.
He was stunned at her language. He was beginning to understand why this place was still up for rent.
“Two: clean up after yourself. I will not ask twice. If you do not clean up after yourself, I will kick you out without hesitation. Three: I live in the room across from you.” She pointed with her pinky and he saw the other room opposite his. The door was closed. “If you have a problem with that, then leave. And finally, four…”
She paused. His throat felt dry.
“You break the record player or any of the records, I will break you.”
She said it so seriously that he was confused for a second. “Is… is that it?”
A small smile appeared on her lips. He blinked.
“Well, usually I just turn people away when I know they’re going to be assholes. You seem alright,” she replied, more to herself than to him. “You said you were a music producer? Is your work quiet?”
“I can work with headphones on,” he said hurriedly. “If needed, I can soundproof the room so you don’t hear much.”
“Hmm.” She was inspecting him like a hawk. He could feel her eyes on him. She took a few steps around him as she entered the room after him. “Have a lot of friends?”
His eyes shifted to the floor. “Not really.”
“Yeah, well, me neither. Rent is due on the first of each month.”
And that was that.
-
She was polite enough. She helped him move all of his equipment into the room and brought him some tables and a chair, saying they were from a secondhand store. He brought a mattress and set it up with a pillow and blanket. She was always dressed plainly. She had thin hands and long fingers. He noticed them when she was helping him move the tables.
He didn’t understand if she had a job or not. He would hear her leave at random times and she would reappear at equally random times. Sometimes in a black long coat, sometimes in a black bomber jacket and jeans, sometimes in a fluffy white jacket that made her look like a giant marshmallow. He noticed her makeup was always different too – sometimes very little, sometimes quite heavy, sometimes somewhere in between. If it wasn’t for his dire financial situation, he might have thought more about how he wasn’t quite sure what her face looked like.
Instead he spent most of his time in his room, working on his music.
-
“How’s my favorite girl?”
“I’m fine, Seokjin.”
She almost rolled her eyes at the man, who was sitting between two very attractive, very coked-out women. They threw themselves all over him, kissing his neck and chest through his dress shirt and blazer. Unfortunately, she couldn’t roll her eyes. She had to be serious.
He pouted. It was almost cute, if it wasn’t for the dangerous glint in his eyes. “Just fine? How can I make it better, my darling?”
“I’m not your darling, Seokjin,” she corrected calmly, setting the laptop bag in front of him. It was a scruffy laptop bag, similar to the type that students used.
“Yet.”
He pushed the girls aside and opened the bag, eyes lighting up at he saw the money. He zipped it back up and set his elbows on his knees, looking up curiously at her. “Wearing your gloves again, I see.”
She shrugged. “Eczema is pretty bad this year.”
The corner of his mouth curved upwards. “It’s bad every day of the year.”
She didn’t reply. He noticed she was dressed in a long black coat with a white blouse and ill-fitted black pants. Simple black shoes. Almost as if she was going to work. He frowned, shaking his head.
“I’m not into this ensemble today. I much preferred the jogger aesthetic you had on last time.”
She smiled. “You just like tight pants.”
“You know me too well.”
He stood up, confusing the girls. They ended up flopping on top of each other, giggling. He walked around the marble coffee table, handing her a leather-bound folder stuffed with papers.
“I’m glad you decided to continue working for me.”
She kept the smile plastered to her face as she took the folder from him. She kept it there as she bowed politely and walked out of that room, out of that house. Out of that neighborhood, until she was on the subway. The smile faded, replaced with a blank expression. The leather folder felt heavy in her hands. It felt like a brick she was dragging all the way home. She walked into the apartment, hearing the faint bass of music leaking underneath Yoongi’s door. He was a model roommate. He would probably be good looking too if he wasn’t so obsessed with music and less with eating a normal diet. But he was clean and kept to himself, so all was well.
She slipped into her room and locked the door.
The leather-bound folder was placed on the empty table. She took off her black leather gloves and replaced them with plastic ones. A swift swipe with a disinfecting wipe to get rid of the oils and the fingerprints. She opened the folder carefully, putting the useless papers aside. She found what she was looking for.
She pulled up her chair and sat down, staring at it.
It was like this every time. She questioned it every time. Then, like clockwork, she turned and opened a drawer to find the small plastic baggies. Slowly and carefully, she began to divide the white powder into the appropriate weight using the small scale in her desk.
Summary - Upon first glance, no one would assume Min Yoongi would be the type to put someone back together. If his icy cold stare and stoic expressions weren’t enough to spook most people away, then the body covered in piercings and tattoos usually sent them running. You never could have imagined Min Yoongi would be the one to put your pieces back together, but there is always more than meets the eye.
Word Count - 10.5k
Pairing - Yoongi x reader
Genre - smut, minor angst
Warnings - mentions of broken family, family issues, mentions of homelessness, softdom!yoongi, dirty talk, cream pie, unprotected sex, oral (female)
Summary - Upon first glance, no one would assume Min Yoongi would be the type to put someone back together. If his icy cold stare and stoic expressions weren’t enough to spook most people away, then the body covered in piercings and tattoos usually sent them running. You never could have imagined Min Yoongi would be the one to put your pieces back together, but there is always more than meets the eye.
Word Count - 10.5k
Pairing - Yoongi x reader
Genre - smut, minor angst
Warnings - mentions of broken family, family issues, mentions of homelessness, softdom!yoongi, dirty talk, cream pie, unprotected sex, oral (female)
Summary - Upon first glance, no one would assume Min Yoongi would be the type to put someone back together. If his icy cold stare and stoic expressions weren’t enough to spook most people away, then the body covered in piercings and tattoos usually sent them running. You never could have imagined Min Yoongi would be the one to put your pieces back together, but there is always more than meets the eye.
Word Count - 10.5k
Pairing - Yoongi x reader
Genre - smut, minor angst
Warnings - mentions of broken family, family issues, mentions of homelessness, softdom!yoongi, dirty talk, cream pie, unprotected sex, oral (female)
Summary - Upon first glance, no one would assume Min Yoongi would be the type to put someone back together. If his icy cold stare and stoic expressions weren’t enough to spook most people away, then the body covered in piercings and tattoos usually sent them running. You never could have imagined Min Yoongi would be the one to put your pieces back together, but there is always more than meets the eye.
Word Count - 10.5k
Pairing - Yoongi x reader
Genre - smut, minor angst
Warnings - mentions of broken family, family issues, mentions of homelessness, softdom!yoongi, dirty talk, cream pie, unprotected sex, oral (female)
Summary - Upon first glance, no one would assume Min Yoongi would be the type to put someone back together. If his icy cold stare and stoic expressions weren’t enough to spook most people away, then the body covered in piercings and tattoos usually sent them running. You never could have imagined Min Yoongi would be the one to put your pieces back together, but there is always more than meets the eye.
Word Count - 10.5k
Pairing - Yoongi x reader
Genre - smut, minor angst
Warnings - mentions of broken family, family issues, mentions of homelessness, softdom!yoongi, dirty talk, cream pie, unprotected sex, oral (female)
