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mikwrites-archive · 4 years

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of angels, blood, and lifetimes

☞ pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader ☞ warnings: kind of stockholm syndrome? blood, major death, guns ☞ wc: 4.8k words ☞ genre: mafia/gang au

☞ a/n: this used to be a haikyuu fic that i did but wasn’t too happy with the more i read it so i revamped it for jeonghan !! i hope u guys like it ♡ and if u see any mistakes w the names pls lmk !!! ignore the title highkey i hate it but im so bad at titles HAHAH

Jeonghan wonders how you ended up in a place like this.

The lounge is sordid and foul, filled with an underlying stench of mold and dust, creaking floorboards, and disreputable individuals that looked like they’d pounce upon you like a pack of ravenous wolves if given the chance.

Yet your demeanor is relaxed, the bright spotlight cast upon you and the stage softening your features and illuminating the delicate, gauzy dress you adorned as the deep maroon curtains are swept aside for you, and only you. Even your voice was gentle as you sang, like a gentle angel, as if lulling the wolves to placidity in their den.

But doesn’t distract him from the job. It’s rare something ever does, in all honesty, but Jeonghan almost feels remorseful for what’s about to happen.

When your performance ends, the hollers and catcalls dying down as the curtains swing shut, Jeonghan cocks his head slightly towards the hallway next to the stage where the bathrooms, and no doubt, the dressing rooms were located, with the three other men accompanying him.

“She was pretty good.” Joshua comments, and Seungcheol barks a laugh.

“Yeah. Doesn’t change the fact that we’re after her brother though.”

“She’s pretty too.” Joshua ignores Seungcheol’s statement and Jihoon who rolls his eyes at the former’s statement. “What do you think, Hannie?”

“I think we should stay focused.”

Joshua laughs lightly at the answer, but doesn’t get a chance to reply, the dressing room door being swung open with Jeonghan’s knuckles hovering in the air, about to knock.

“Can I help you?”

You’re somehow more breathtaking up close, hair unpinned, a fluffy robe wrapping your body, and your features are clearly startled at their appearance.

“We were just wondering if we could have a moment to talk?”

You don’t have a choice, but you’re unaware of that, uneasiness flooding you as you search your memory for any recognition of the men and coming up blank.

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to speak to the owner of the lounge if this is about business, and I don’t take-”

“Sorry if it wasn’t clear, honey.” Jeonghan brushes the side of his suit coat aside lightly, revealing the handle of his gun, and your eyes widen. “But we weren’t asking.”

You let them in quickly after that, and suddenly, you’re sat down with him, the rest dispersed around the room, poking curiously around your vanity and dresses.

“Your last name is Jeon, right?” Jeonghan inquires, and you nod. “Have you been in contact with your brother lately?”

The mention of Wonwoo drains all warmth from your face, and Jeonghan is taken aback by how open you are.

He’s been around enough to tell a liar, and somehow, your posture is open and vulnerable, like a blooming flower, something that almost blinded him, as if you were a beacon of light at the end of the dark tunnel that was the dark business he was in.

“I haven’t seen him in almost a year. He took all my family’s money then left without a trace.” Your tone is bitter, and Jeonghan curses under his breath. “Can I ask what this is about?”

“Your brother,” He inhales slowly, answering in clipped sentences. “Owes us some work.”

Your innocence does nothing to disguise the way your gaze sharpens in thought, and Jeonghan smiles inwardly.

“Were you two close?” He prompts, changing the subject.

“I wouldn’t think so.” You start slowly. “But if you’re asking me whether he’d talk to me, I don’t know. Maybe. People have always told me he felt an obligation to care for me, being his younger sibling, but it’s not something that’s ever really stood out to me.”

It’s good enough for Jeonghan, who gets up, brushing his pants off as he does so, ignoring your perplexed gaze as he glances at his men, who stop their curious investigation about the room and stand beside you.

“What’s- don’t touch me.” You snap, slapping Jihoon’s hand away from your arm, and the room suddenly drops in temperature.

“Woozi.” Jeonghan warns, and he sighs.

“You really think she won’t struggle?”

“What’s going on?” You repeat demandingly, and Jeonghan is struck with a sudden appreciation and interest at your boldness.

“You’re coming with us.”

The words are heavy, and silence blankets the room for a few moments, and your quiet question unsettles everyone.

“Do I have a choice?”

“I think you know the answer to that, honey.” Jeonghan attempts to be sympathetic, but he also knows to not let his guard down, the prettiest rose often having the sharpest thorns.

“I can’t.”

Someone behind you snorts, and it steels your resolve, despite the unreadable expression of the man in front of you who raises an eyebrow.

“I have to work.” You explain haltingly.

This brings a bout of laughs around you, and your eyebrows furrow indignantly, irritation rising at the sound.

“I’m being serious.” You argue as they die down. “My parents can’t work; it’s only me. Wonwoo took almost everything.”

“Maybe your brother should have thought about that, before he-”

“They’ll be given sufficient funds.” Jeonghan cuts through impatiently, and everyone blinks.

“You’re not serious.” Joshua exclaims, and instead of relieved, you look scandalized.

“And I’m not stupid enough to entrust my parents to some organization hunting my brother.” You burst, and Jeonghan grins.

“Smart. But which would you prefer, leaving them with no assets, or have some organization give them money for the time being?”

You nod shortly after a reluctant pause, and Jeonghan gestures for Seungcheol and Jihoon to take you to the car, to which they do so silently, flanking you in obedient order.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Hannie.” Joshua muses as they exit the room, one you wouldn’t be in the presence of for a while, and Jeonghan looks suddenly grim at the statement.

“I’m not in charge for no reason.”

You stay in your designated room for the entire first day.

It’s luxurious, bigger than the living room in your own family home much less your own bedroom, and although you aren’t restricted to this single room alone, free to roam the entire house, you stay locked inside upon choice.

You can hear the commotion outside at times, or the curious rustles and whispers at your door, but you don’t move towards any of them, deep in thoughts pertaining to your situation.

It was almost twisted, the more you thought about it.

The syndicate you were currently held within, was revealed fairly quickly as you made the drive to their headquarters, and darker than you expected. It chilled you to think your brother was involved in mafia business, and you prickled with sympathy at the realization of how young some of the members were.

It made your head spin to think of why, how and when, since primarily you thought of your own involvement now.

You knew you were here because of your relation to your brother, but as to why they were treating you so well, considering whatever deed Wonwoo had committed against them. There was also how they figured upon finding your brother and when you’d be able to leave.

If you ever would be able to.

The thought sends a chilling shiver down your spine, and just as you swing your legs off of your bed, there’s a rap on the door, and Joshua opens it soon after with a small smile.

“Dinner’s ready. You’ve been cooped up here all day, everyone wants to meet you.”

You trudge alongside him slowly, and he doesn’t look impressed with your lackluster behaviour, but you don’t care. You simply want to eat, survey the members, and return to your room.

There’s eight of them at the table.

Yoon Jeonghan was the leader of the group, his right hand man being Hong Joshua, with Choi Seungcheol and Lee Jihoon as close second and third. There was Lee Seokmin, an experienced member, though he seemed to fill in for any of the top four whenever needed, and Kim Mingyu, the basis of intelligence research and support. There was also Boo Seungkwan, a nervous looking boy, though skilled, and Lee Chan, master of reconnaissance, the two youngest members.

They don’t talk to you much, and you’re not exactly inviting them to, although the curiosity is palpable through each member’s gaze.

The scrape of forks against plates is all that fills the room, until everyone is satisfied, and it’s broken by Jihoon.

“Anyone wanna go shoot some rounds?”

You’re left to sit there confusedly as they all scoot back their chairs, agreeing quietly or silently, leaving the room until Chan peers back inside.

“Are you coming?”

Seeing that you didn’t remember how you got to the dining room in the first place from your own accommodation, you quickly stand, following and trying not to get distracted throughout the winding hallways.

You find yourself in a gun range, and you’re torn between wanting to laugh at your circumstances, or being concerned as you stand by the doorway, watching as everyone bustles around as if it were a normal occurrence (as it was).

They place bets, apparently Jeonghan being the reigning champion of the targets, and it’s fairly amusing to see them curse and shout as they all fire off.

“Can I try?” You pipe up, attracting the attention of the group with surprise, and they all exchange glances before shrugging in agreement; but before one of them can offer his gun, you tug a small pistol out of the folds of your clothes, and they all halt.

“Did you always have that on you?” Seungcheol shrieks, and you stare at him.

“Have you seen where I work?”

“No one thought to check her for weapons?” Jeonghan raises an eyebrow amusedly, and mutters arise from the three who accompanied him. You want to retort how you weren’t stupid enough to pull your tiny pistol on a group of them but bite your tongue.

You pay no attention to the bickering that arises after as well, aiming your gun for a few moments before firing, and making the group jump. You continue on consistently, and when the bullets run out, you stare at the blistering holes in the target, eyes burning as they observe the results interestedly.

You don’t catch the pair of deep brown eyes upon you as you place the gun gingerly next to the other emptied ones.

“She did better than you, ‘Kwannie.”

“Shut up, Dino.”

That night, you’re awoken by what you think is a ghost.

Your sleep was restless anyways, being unable to slumber peacefully throughout the entire night ever since you’ve arrived, so as you tiptoe out of your room to discover the source, it’s almost welcomed.

Your fingertips trail against the vintage wallpapered walls as your ears strain to follow the melodic drifting voice, halting at the ajar doorway you deemed your destination, moonlight streaming out.

The sound is almost haunting, high and lonely and beautiful, and you sway to it unconsciously in your attempt to stay at a standstill as you listen outside the doorway. It cuts off as you make the tiniest step closer to hear better, and you hold your breath.

“Who’s there?”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you squeeze your eyes shut, praying to whatever higher being that resides in the heavens to protect you from the outcome of revealing yourself as you step cautiously into the room.

“Oh, it’s you.” Jeonghan sighs, and you release a breath of relief.

He looks like an angel in the gauzy moonlight, not the cherub, rosy cheeked ones, with fluttery wings, but the powerful, punishing, broad shouldered beings with cold gazes. He reminds you of a double edged sword, glinting, in delicate beauty and dangerous pain.

“Your voice is beautiful.” You offer softly, clutching the material of your soft pyjama gown, and Jeonghan smiles wryly.

“Says the lounge singer in our midst.”

“The company at the lounge aren’t exactly the best judges. I don’t think they really care about how I sound too much, just how I look.” You muse, sitting down as Jeonghan gestures for you to.

“I would say they have pretty good judgement, honey, hearing and seeing both firsthand.”

You don’t reply, looking away from his amused gaze, perking up as he begins to hum, starting to sing once more.

You blame it upon the late hours that your eyes flutter heavily to darkness as you listen, propping your face upon the heel of your palm, and when you regain fuzzy consciousness, you’re rocking slightly side to side, just enough to be aware of the arms cradling you, and the flash of blonde hair as you crack your eyes open.

You sleep throughout the rest of the night, waking up in your own room, wondering if the previous night was a dream.

“The boss wants dinner with you.”

“Now?” You glance up from the television screen, at Seungkwan who stood at the doorway, scoffing.

“No, tonight. It’s three in the afternoon, for god’s sake.”

He dodges the pillow you chuck at him easily, and raises an eyebrow.

“Getting quite bold, for a hostage.”

“If you wanted me dead, it’d have happened by now.” You muse, eyes trained upon the screen once more, as you had spent the majority of your time here doing.

Seungkwan smiles at that, moving to leave, calling over his shoulder.

“Be ready by seven. Someone will come to get you.”

Dinners with Jeonghan end up becoming a regular occurence, the first few filled with awkward silence and stunted conversation, until it became more smooth, skimming the surface of being almost friendly and welcomed in their happenings.

By the seventh dinner, you were prepared to ask a question that had nagged at you since they first appeared at the lounge you worked at, and as the forks and knives were set down, you were set to inquire. Yet Jeonghan seemed to have the same idea.

“Would you ever consider joining us?”

“What?” All thoughts of your own question flee your mind, and are filled with numb shock.

“Well, you’ve been here for a while. There’s not really anywhere you can go after this is all over. You’d make more money than you would singing.”

“When this is all over.” You repeat slowly. “What does that mean? What is going on in the first place and what does it have to do with my family?”

Jeonghan sighs, leaning back in his chair, steepling his fingers.

“Wonwoo was stealing money from our operations. The last time any of us saw him, he had just transferred a large sum into his own account, before disappearing.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m a lot of things, honey.” Jeonghan is solemn, no sign of deceit upon his features, and you shake your head. “But I’m not a liar.”

You tremble as you clench your fists, gritting your teeth, and he thinks your eyes are glittering with tears, but the sound you emit is a hissed snarl of anger, and he blinks.

“He wouldn’t have. He couldn’t.” Your gaze snaps up to meet him abruptly, and Jeonghan almost recoils. “Tell me how much it was.”

He finds it impossible to refuse in your gaze, and when he tells you the specific amount, your face hardens.

“He stole all that money… and still took mine, our family’s…”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need your apologies.” You snap, and he quiets as you fume. He can practically see your anger, raging in a fueling tempest as you stand and pace, no doubt trying to process and calm your whirling emotions. “I worked for years, spent years of my life in that shitty lounge, and I’m never going to get them back.”

Collapsing back into your seat, you don’t realize tears are running down your cheeks until Jeonghan reaches over and brushes one away with his thumb, and you take a gasping breath, shuddering as it all crashes down.

And he sits next to you, through it all.

The next night, you don’t sleep.

Your inability to fall asleep is inhibited by the events of the previous night, eyes still aching from the outburst, and also to the fact that there’s nothing stopping you from getting up out of the tossed and tangled sheets and leaving, for the mafia was out on business.

But you stay, staring up at the ceiling, and you don’t understand why.

You’re not sure if it’s lucky or not that you do, because as you sit up, planning on getting a drink of water to clear your thoughts and soothe your throat, your door bursts open, and the first thing you see is blood.

“You’re still here.” Joshua breathes, eyes wide, matching your own gaze of shock. “Do you know basic first aid?”

You don’t get to answer, or perhaps you took too long, because a chorus of shouts and members clamour down the hallway, and Joshua dashes after them in a haste, with you trailing after in confusion.

The red stains are staggered on the floor and streaked on the walls from fingertips leaning on support, and you follow it like a sick trail of breadcrumbs to the witch’s house, the infirmary.

Apparently, Mingyu knows first aid and hospital procedures, snapping on blue latex gloves, holding a variety of metal surgical tools while the rest of them bustle around, assisting in any way they can.

“Stay down, or you’ll make it worse.”

“I’m fine.” Jeonghan grits, a contrast to his wince as he props himself up on his elbows.

“You literally got shot.” Joshua looks serious for once, and Jeonghan collapses, groaning.

“Hey, you.”

You jolt at the order, realizing you’re being spoken to, and you answer with a croak.

“If you’re gonna be here, at least do something useful. Help remove the material.”

Mingyu points at a pale Jeonghan, and you swallow, making your way over and gently beginning to unbutton the dress shirt with surprisingly steady hands, avoiding the scarlet bloom on the side of his stomach. You steal glances at Jeonghan, who doesn’t give any notice that you’re technically undressing him, eyes closed and teeth clenched as sweat beads at his forehead.

You’re quickly shoved aside as you finish, and you join Joshua outside the doorway, chest heaving as he gazes at you in curiosity.

“You checked him out didn’t you.” It’s not a question, but a statement, and you give him the most disgruntled look you can, but your mind flashes back and you can’t hide the flush.

“No- I- you don’t know what you’re- he’s dying.” You glare, and Joshua laughs.

“He’ll be fine. He said so.”

You can only stare in amazement at his dismissal, but you miss the way his expression fades to solemnity as he walks away.

You have a feeling no one sleeps that night, with the exception of the one, who once he wakes, calls for you.

Jeonghan offers you a pudding cup, which you take as he devours his own, before posing his question.

“Have you thought at all about my offer from the other day?”

“Well,” you begin slowly, toying with your spoon. “I can’t exactly leave without posing a certain risk. And I don’t have anything going for me outside of here, so… I accept.”

He smiles.

“On one condition though.” You look at him solemnly, gaze piercing his own as he listens.

“When we find Wonwoo, I want to talk to him, before whatever happens.”

He thinks for a moment, before nodding.

“Welcome to the gang.”

It’s not difficult to feel like you belong.

Ever since you had begun to stay, you had attempted to forge bonds with each member for your own safety, some of them joining you in your television binges, or you joining them in their leisurely activities if you didn’t feel like too much of a nuisance.

And once you were officially considered a member of the organization, you began to understand why they stayed.

They were a team, bound by bonds over blood, and while they constantly bickered, it was clear that they were unbreakable except by death, and it was now offered as an extension to you which you took gratefully.

And while you could say you became closer with all of them, there was one you felt you became more distant with.

Dinners became scarce with Jeonghan, as well as almost all interaction with the exception of greetings and meetings on business.

Just as he dismisses you from a meeting, eyes on his paperwork, you suck in your cheeks, bolstering yourself as you confront him.

“Was all that stuff before just a ploy to get me to join? Or is it that you regret asking me to join?”

He blinks, gaze snapping upwards.

“Of course not.”

“Then,” you feel extremely childish, as if you were a highschooler dealing with a frustrating crush. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

“I…” Jeonghan inhales, standing up as he begins to pace the room slowly. “I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“You told me you weren’t a liar.”

He flinches, almost imperceptibly, but you see it, honing in like a hawk on its prey.

“Not consciously.” He amends, eyes meeting yours briefly, and your gaze flickers with confusion. “I just don’t think it’s wise.”

“Why?” You press, stepping towards him, tilting your head as you search his avoiding gaze for answers.

It’s quick, the way his lips meet yours as if in a haste, but it’s like a blurted confession, and the position later is slow, like the realization of your happenings.

Your fingertips are light on his cheek, your gaze boring into his, and he finds himself perfectly content in being suspended within your eyes, each breath short and lost to the thrum of his heart.

“That’s why.” He breathes, and you swallow.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Do it again.”

And so he does.

“You’re in a good mood today, Hannie.”

Joshua’s voice is sickly sweet, aiming to trap Jeonghan in his sticky honey clutches, but the leader knows his friend all too well, and narrows his eyes.

“Am I?”

“Mhm,” Joshua assents, grinning mischievously as he leans forwards. “And I think I know why.”

“And why is that?”

“Our newest recruit of course.”

Jeonghan says nothing, bringing his cup up to his lips as Joshua looks like the cat who caught the mouse, enjoying this immensely, while Seungcheol and Jihoon watch amusedly.

“Did you guys fuck?” Jihoon inquires, and Jeonghan chokes on his drink, and that seems to serve enough of an answer to everyone else, who nod knowingly.

“They totally fucked.” Seungcheol laughs.

“We did not fuck.” Jeonghan argues, clearing his throat as he uses one arm to prop himself up further in his seat uncomfortably. “We just kissed.”

The exchange of glances around the room proves their disbelief at his statement, and Jeonghan pinches the bridge of his nose.

A knock grasps their attention, and they perk up at the sound, eyes honing in on the door swinging open.

“Hey.” You suddenly feel like being put under a spotlight as you step inside, everyone’s gaze snapping towards you, warily speaking your next sentence. “I just thought we could return to what we were talking about yesterday. I think I have something.”

“Is this some kind of sex codeword?” Joshua murmurs to Jeonghan, who glares.

“A what?” You blink, and Jeonghan gestures for you to forget it, to which you furrow your eyebrows before shrugging.

“What did you have in mind?” Jeonghan leans forwards, resting his forearms on his thighs, and Joshua waves his hand expectantly.

“Hello, are we missing something here?”

“I have a plan to get Wonwoo.” You answer, and the room suddenly bleeds into an atmosphere of seriousness, with all eyes and ears upon you.

“Go on.” Jeonghan nods, and you rub your sweaty palms on your pants.

“It’s simple really…”

As simple as the plot was, things went horribly off course.

You weren’t supposed to be involved, as much as you protested, yet the majority of them agreed, your only role to be the bait as it was from the beginning. The reveal wasn’t a surprise to you, having figured it out within days of staying at the house, yet it stung to still be reduced to that role despite proposing the scheme itself.

The week was spent sending subtle messages in public of where you were and whom you were with, and you had received information from allies that Wonwoo was on the move, seen exactly where you had been planted alone with other members in public briefly.

Yet as the night came, the house was dark and silent, and you were startled by the sound of your door creaking open, heart racing.

“Hello?” You squint, the only source of light being the moon, and as they step from the shadows the first thing you see is bleached blond hair and the metal glint of a gun. “Wonwoo?”

This was not part of the plan.

“How did you get inside?” You stammer, wondering how he managed to get past the members on defense and whether they were alright, however not having heard any shots fired, your nerves were settled for the time being.

“Let’s go.” He gestures the gun lightly, but the aim is still pointed at you, and you swallow, exiting the room slowly as he trails behind you. Your own weapon is heavy upon your side, your mind racing as to the ways you could reveal it without getting your head blown off.

“She’s not going anywhere.”

The cocking of guns is slow, almost drawn out in the hallway, and you’re in the middle of it all.

“Lower your gun, Wonwoo.” Joshua’s tone is cold, and Wonwoo sneers, not moving his aim.

“You got her to join.” Wonwoo glares at Jeonghan, whose gaze is equally stony.

“It was her choice.”

“What, is this all just some ploy to get back the money I took?”

“It was at first. But you took more than that didn’t you?”

A flicker of confusion falls over Wonwoo’s face and it’s that moment you tug your pistol from its confines, aiming with a steady hand.

“Do you remember when you gave this to me?” You muse, unmoving as Wonwoo freezes. “You told me to never let anyone take anything from me. And I won’t. Not anymore.”

A gunshot fires, and the air is heavy and thick, for no one breathes until someone drops down in the dim light, and you don’t move towards them, but everyone else does.

A hand rests tentatively on your shoulder, and it’s warm, the voice paired with it, comforting as you lower your gun, wisps of smoke emanating from the barrel.

“Are you alright?” Jeonghan inquires, and he thinks your eyes glimmer shinily as you gaze at the body of your brother, but when you meet his gaze, they’re sharp and dry as you reply.

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

The stone is chilling on your back as you lean against it, tilting your head to the sky as you stretch your neck, before relaxing and falling back down to the blades of grass that swayed gently in the breeze.

“You’ve been coming out here a lot.”

You don’t need to look up to know who it is, able to tell from the sight of shoes in your vision and the voice, but you do anyway, smiling up at Jeonghan, who looks down at you concernedly.

“It’s quiet out here.”

He settles down beside you, and you grasp his hand lightly, to which he squeezes it in return.

He didn’t question it, he felt he understood enough; the night you shot that bullet, killing your brother made you carry a weight that had to have shifted something internally.

“Are you happy here?”

“Not particularly. It is my brother’s tombstone.” You respond drily, and Jeonghan smacks your arm lightly, scoffing a laugh as he shakes his head.

“I mean, working here. Staying here.”

“I don’t know.” You hum. “Are you happy here?”

“I don’t know.” He responds, and you narrow your eyes at him, searching for any sign of derisiveness in his gaze, but you see truth. “I haven’t known anything else my entire life besides this. But, I am happy with you. I know that much.”

“Could we leave? Is that possible?”

“Is that…” Jeonghan starts slowly, searching in his mind for possibilities, surprising himself with his own openness to the idea. “Is that something you want?”

“I want to be with you.” You gaze at him, eyes meeting his. “That’s all I want. For as long as possible.”

“Let’s do it then.”

“Yeah?” You blink, and he nods, standing up and brushing the dirt off of his legs, holding his hand out to you helping heft you upwards to your feet.

“Yeah.” Jeonghan smiles, and you return it.

“A lifetime with you doesn’t sound too bad.”

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