9pm | p.jm x reader

- street lights -

You let out a deep sigh, thick white fog rising from your breath as you stumble through the pouring rain. Your feet moving heavily, tired from the hours of what started as running, and slowly turned to walking.

It was late at night, probably sometime around 2 or 3 in the morning, and you had no where to go. You were lost, cold and alone. All you could do was walk towards the only place you could think of. The city.

You should be happy, ecstatic actually. You were finally free after 6 years of agonising torture and pain. However, in all your years of being confined and locked away from the world, you had forgotten how cold Seoul could get, especially in the middle of winter, and in the middle of the night. 

You turned the corner of the street you had been travelling down, a large smile growing on your face as you were greeted with glowing street signs and shops. You had finally made it to the city. 

Mustering up all the strength you could find, you run to the shelter of a store closest to you. Nothing was open at this time, and you were too tired to walk around and find one that was open, all you needed was the safety of a roof over your head. 

Looking around cautiously, you walk to the door of the shop and pull with all your might. The doors simply clunk, refusing to open. 

Locked, damn it. Guess we are camping out tonight  you shiver violently as you sink down against the wall next to the door, inspecting your soaking wet clothes and Y/H/C hair.

You cringe internally as your eyes fall on a large blood stain on your wet t-shirt, remembering all too well who it belongs too. 

✺

Today had been a big day for you. It started off as a normal day for you. You had woken up on the cold concrete floor of the room you had been held captive in for the past 6 years. You hadn't taken notice of the yelling outside of the door, as it was quite normal for the men who had taken you to argue frequently, only to end up taking their anger out on you. 

You had curled up on the floor, holding your stomach as it growled aggressively, but that wasn't the biggest problem you had. You tried desperately to move as little as possible in order to avoid the pain of the violent torture you had endured the previous night... and the night before... and the night before for as long as you could remember. 

Last night had been particularly bad however, and the wounds you had been left with were proving it difficult to even move with. 

By the end of the night, you had been left with numerous large cuts and bruises and a large branding that had been placed just below your collar bone and above your heart. A large 'X' for x marks the spot, they had said. It wasn't the first branding you had earned in your time there. The X was complimented with another branding on your wrist, where a watch would lay. Its format was a circle with clock hands within it, pointing to the worst hour of your life. 

9pm.

You had run your hands lightly over the braised skin as you laid in the centre of the room, curled up in the same spot they had left you in. Anger and  hatred slowly conjuring inside you. 

Suddenly you had been ripped out of your thoughts as the door to your room had been burst open, revealing the man had taken you in the first place, at 13 years of age. 

In a rush, he had grabbed you aggressively and dragged you out of the room, bringing you to the living room where 4 other men had been sitting waiting for you. Each looked angry and pissed with one another, but you sensed undertones of panic and fluster. 

You just stood in confusion, pained by the sudden movement. You had only ever been in this room several times since being here. 

Without warning they covered your head with a black bag, disabling your sense of sight and coordination. You yelled as they seemed to pull you in the direction of the front door, only to pull you back when you hear the front door being forcibly smashed open. 

All you had heard was foreign voices screaming at the men holding you.

"GET DOWN", "HANDS BEHIND YOUR BACK", "PUT YOUR WEAPONS DOWN", "I SAID WEAPONS DOWN", "SIR PUT THE WEAPONS DOWN", "WEAPONS DOW-" and then gunshots. Too many gunshots. 

You dropped to the floor as you felt bullets fly through the air towards you, curling up on the floor the way you had down for years in an attempt to save yourself. 

When the shots had finished, you managed to bring your hands up and remove the bag from your head. Looking around the room to find a scene straight from your nightmares. No one remained standing.

You had shivered as you saw crimson red stain the walls, the furniture, the door... your clothes. 

Slowly, you rose to your feet, taking in the sight before you. You jumped as a sound rose from one of the men on the floor, causing you to panic and quickly pick up a gun that had previously belonged to one of the police officers in the fight.

Holding the pistol close to your chest, you had searched for the source of the noise, only to find that it had come from none other than the man who had stolen you and brought you to this awful place 6 years ago. The one responsible for the years of torture and pain you had endured. 

He was wounded badly, bleeding out from a bullet to the torso, but still alive. 

"Please" he whimpered to you, "Help me"

You simply looked down at the branding above your heart. Pointing the gun at the man's heart and shooting before he could make another sound, killing him instantly.

You had watched as the life left his eyes, whispering quietly to yourself as you turned, "X marks the spot"

Before leaving, you had taken ammo from the police officers, putting the gun in the waist band of your pants and concealing it from sight, as well as taken money from wallets before running out the door and not looking back. 

✺

Now you sat, cold and drenched in water, out the front of a shop. You close your eyes and try to forget about it, you could figure it out tomorrow, if you even make it through the freezing night. 

You were almost asleep, your legs curled up close to your chest, when you notice a group of people walk past the front of the shop in which you had taken refuge. You stop breathing as you watch what seemed to be 7 men walk past without noticing you, laughing and talking as they made their way through the streets, not bothered by the pouring rain. 

Once they had left, you close your eyes again, ready to sleep again.

"Hey there" your eyes shot open and you jumped up at the startling voice in front of you. There, crouched a man, you couldn't make out his face in the dark, however, his voice was smooth, sweet and surprisingly high pitched. 

Out of fear and habit, you pull your arms up in front of your face, shielding yourself from the man. 

"Please don't hurt me" you whisper, tears welling up in your eyes. You had just escaped hell, you didn't want to go back.

"Woah, it's okay... We just want to help you out." he replies calmly.

"We?" The words left your mouth before you could even think. As you lower your arms, you notice that there are in fact 6 boys standing behind the man who is crouched in front of you. He simply nods, his black silhouette calm in demeanour. 

"What do you say we get you out of this storm?"