seventeen imagines

jeonghan - mafia

not me getting ideas for stories and writing those instead of imagines

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word count : 531

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"hah...fuck..."

you hissed in pain as you pressed your hand on the bullet wound in your leg.

half of your town was under the control of a mafia known as seventeen. they had ties connected to the government and to law enforcement.

and here you were, hiding in an alley after running into some of them. you were trying to steal some money from a store that was closing up, only to realize that the thrift store you were in was owned by seventeen.

"here kitty kitty. come out come out wherever you are," you heard someone speak. you almost stopped breathing so you could stay hidden.

you leaned your head against the wall next to you, using a tiny entranceway that was next to a a pile of boxes as your cover.

this is it, just face it already, y/n.

"here you are, kitten."

you looked up and saw a man standing over you. you noticed a gun pointed at you.

"got anything to say? or are you losing too much blood?" he asked.

"go," you started speaking and took a deep breath in, "fuck off."

"that's so sweet of you to say," he replied, "where's the rest of the money you stole, huh? you dropped some when you ran out of there," he mentioned but realized that you were about to pass out. "hey, answer me," he demanded and out the gun away, pressing his hand on your wound. "shit."

—

you opened your eyes and found yourself in a room. your hand was handcuffed to what seemed like a hospital bed.

"you're awake, took you long enough."

you looked and saw the guy from last night sitting in a chair. you immediately noticed a gip his other arm was in; it most likely not being visible from the darkness of the night when you had first met him.

"gonna tell me where my money is?" he asked.

you sat up and tried to slip your hand through the handcuff but couldn't. then, you heard the guy stand up and walk over to you.

he pressed his hand on your mid-thigh, where your wound was. you felt pain everywhere and tried to reach for the morphine but realized that the guy had swiped it away from your reach.

"my boys don't just shoot for fun. they'll kill you next time if you try to do this," he said to you, "but i know you won't do this again."

you wouldn't reply and he pressed onto the bandaging that covered your thigh again, making you groan in pain. you felt tears threatening to spill and laid back down in pain.

"...should've just left me out there," you spoke, "i would've died and would've been happy." the guy took his hand away, "the money is at a church, so good luck trying to get it back."

the guy just stared at you before starting to walk out of the room. "when you can walk again, go to the bar between first and avenue b," he instructed, "and don't worry about to hospital bill," he added before leaving the room, letting the door close by itself behind him.

damn it.