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[elleaa11]

𝒮𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝑀𝑒 ~ 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝐼𝐼

Killer!Jungkook x Sad!Jimin Soulmate AU

Read on AO3 here

Chapter TW:// Descriptions of violence and depression. Mentions of stalking. 

Snip-it:

With shaky fingers, Jimin pressed on the intercom button. “What are you doing here?” 

A smile erupted on his soulmate’s face. “You know why, baby.” 

“I’m not coming.” 

His soulmate’s smug smile didn’t falter. 

Word Count: 3.5k 

Chapter 2 ~ Stigma

Jimin stretched the ache out of his limbs. He rolled around in the soft sheets and groaned. Everything ached. Always. No amount of stretching would shake the pain in his steps, and distantly he knew the cause, because his heart ached the most of all. 

It had nearly been a month since he left his soulmate bleeding out in his apartment. He had shown up on Taehyung and Hoseok’s doorstep, tears in his eyes and blood on his hands. His best friend had let him and overwhelmed him with questions. 

“My soulmate,” he had murmured into Taehyung’s shoulder as he gently patted the back of his head, “I shot him.” 

His best friend hadn’t asked any more questions and Jimin had been staying in their guest bedroom since. 

The blonde pulled himself up and out of the warmth of the small twin bed before he made his way to the bathroom. He stared at his reflection and a version of himself he barely recognized stared back. He had dark eye bags and his skin was pale. 

Jimin had struggled with depression for most of his life, he was more than aware of that fact, as were his friends and family. 

But not like this. 

The sadness and crippling pain that beat in his chest had never burdened him so heavily. His feet were too heavy, his hair too hard to wash, and the ceiling had never been more interesting to look at as it was the only thing his dull mind could stand. 

And his song, god, his stupid song had never been louder. 

It used to be a soft melody that played in the background of his day, but it now pulsed with every breath, every heartbeat, every thought. 

It surrounded and absorbed everything he was. 

“Jimin?” 

Hoseok snuck up behind him and Jimin continued to stand and stare. The red hair gave a small sigh and brushed behind him to turn on the shower. He left the bathroom and Taehyung returned in his place not soon after. 

“Hi, Minnie,” his best friend’s voice was soft and small, like the hand he placed on his back. He slowly began to undress him down to his underwear and Jimin let him. 

Nothing could cause him to care. 

He was slowly pushed into the shower and the hot caress of water made him close his eyes. Despite the burn of the stream, it didn’t warm him. Not like hot tattooed hands once did. 

He slowly dropped to his knees and cried. 

Taehyung entered the shower fully clothed behind him, not caring about the water and soap and tears that stuck to his sleeves as he bathed the blonde. 

~ ~ ~ 

Three months. 

Three entire months. 

Ninety two days. 

Two thousand and eight hours. 

One hundred thirty two thousand four hundred eighty minutes. 

He refused to let himself do the math to find out the seconds as he knew that he’d begin to obsessively count the time by. 

The door to the small convenience store he worked at dinged but Jimin didn’t look up, too busy staring at the clock as it ticked down the seconds until he got off his shift. 

It was almost midnight, but the gas station consistently stayed busy and cars rushed never ending down the street. 

The city never slept. 

And neither did Jimin. 

A hand obstructed his vision and he turned his attention to the man snapping in his face. He was an older member of society, his fat cheeks flush and plump. He reeked of cheap booze, but Jimin knew the man’s night was just beginning, judging by the cases of beer on the counter between them. 

“Hello? Took you long enough, kids these days.” The man slurred as he leaned on the wood for support. “Always so disrespectful,” Jimin watched as the man looked him up and down, hunger in his ugly brown eyes, “but so pretty. Hey, blondie, say you come with me and help me drink these beers, yeah?” 

Jimin sighed and tried to give a polite smile, “I don’t get off my shift for a while now, I wouldn’t want you to wait, besides, I’m not a big drinker, anyways.” 

The man laughed and the cash register beeped as he was rung up. The man upped his approach to sly passes; Jimin’s lips were so pretty, his hair and skin looked so soft, the man bet he was nice and tight under all those layers. 

“$42.58.” 

The drunk gawked at the interruption. 

“I was speaking, you bitch.” 

“And I finished ringing you up, $42.58, please.” 

In a flash, the man reached across the counter and slammed Jimin down. Air escaped his lungs as his chest made contact with the cold plastic that lined the top. 

“I’ll put you in your place,” the fat man’s other hand grabbed his blonde locks in a harsh grip, “that mouth ruins your pretty face.” 

The man neared him and rubbed his crotch along the top of his head. 

Jimin sighed. He was so tired. So done. 

His fingers brushed a pen used for signing receipts under the cash register and his hands moved before his mind could react. He uncapped the writing utensil and stabbed the man in his fat side, luckily the pen was old fashioned and sharp, and pierced the man's skin easily. 

The drunk released him and crashed into a self behind him, chips and protein bars spilled across the floor. 

“You fucking cunt!” 

Jimin pushed off the counter and returned to his feet. He turned to the phone and began to dial the cops with bloody fingers as the man screamed at him. The phone rang in his ear and he stared blankly at the man who wailed like a child. 

He watched as fat tears cascaded down his fatter cheeks. 

The ringing in his ear cut as the line went dead. 

Then, he watched as the man’s head jerked to the side and his brains splattered across the tile Jimin had just mopped. 

The door dinged and slid across freshly broken glass. 

Jimin’s eyes watched, blown wide, at the dark figure entering, and for the first time in months, heat spread across his skin and his heart began to beat. 

The phone slipped through his red fingertips. 

There were brains everywhere. 

Across the counter. On the floor. On the shelves. On the walls. It was messy. It smelled. 

God, it was on him. 

The man stepped over the fresh corpse on the ground and ran his tattooed fingers along the counter. An inquisitive hum came from him as he tapped his fingers on the plastic, uncaring of the blood and brains that found its way under his nails. 

“Pack of Marlboro, as well,” pierced lips mouthed. 

His head spun. 

Jimin dropped to his knees in an attempt to hide under the counter. 

“Holy shit,” slipped out of his mouth and he blushed at the dark chuckle that rang out above him. 

His soulmate was here. 

His soulmate. 

The man hed dreamed about every fucking night since their last meeting. 

He was standing just feet away. 

He was standing over a fucking corpse. 

Jimin took a deep breath before he rose to his feet and met the dark eyes already staring at him. He spun on his heel and grabbed the requested cigarettes off the shelf behind him. Blood marred the mostly white box, but he had a feeling his soulmate wouldn’t mind. 

“9-” he cleared his throat, “$9.52.” 

His soulmate grabbed the pack off the bloody counter and placed a cigarette between his pretty lips before he crouched down and fished the dead man’s wallet out of his pocket. He opened the thin fabric and grabbed all the cash out then threw it at the counter. 

“It’s been a while, baby doll,” the dark haired man said as he pulled a lighter from his pocket. 

Jimin stared as his heart beat in his throat. The man before him flicked the lighter on and a small orange flame lit up his attractive features. 

“You-you killed him,” he stuttered as his feet took him back until his back hit the wall of nicotine behind him. 

“That I did,” he agreed, “he was touching all over you and my patience was wearing thin.” 

A smile lit up on his face as smoke blew out of his nose. “But you were handling yourself so beautifully, might even killed him yourself if I was more of a patient man.” 

Jimin shook his head. “You killed him! There’s cameras-” He snapped his head to the CCTV television and his words died in his throat as he was met with static. He turned his attention back to his soulmate and the man pulled a small device out of his pocket. 

“I’ve got roughly another seven minutes before it comes back online,” he took another drag of the drug in his hand. 

“H-how did you know I was being attacked?” Jimin stared at his savior. The man was obviously experienced in taking lives, even had a device that short circuited security, and the timing was too perfect. 

“My sweet thing, there hasn’t been a moment since we met that I haven’t been watching you.” 

Jimin’s heart skipped a beat and shame filled his gut as he couldn’t tell if it was from fear or excitement. 

His soulmate leaned across the counter on his elbows and into his space, his cigarette hung loosely between his lips. 

“There’s nowhere you can run where I won’t find you. I’ll find you in a heartbeat.” He blew smoke in his face and Jimin’s senses exploded with him, him, him. 

“You creep.” He meekly mumbled, his cheeks hot and flushed. 

“Just for you, My Jimin.” he took another drag of the blunt. 

Jimin’s eye widened at the use of his name, though he was unsure why he was so surprised. His soulmate’s lips twitched at the expression across his face. 

“Park Jimin, 23. Living with Kim Taehyung and Jung Hoseok in apartment 328 in the complex down the block. Born to Park Pilwoo and Mijeong on October 13th, has a brother, Park-” 

“I get it!” Jimin pushed the man back by the shoulders. “You’re a stalker.” 

The man simply tried to hide a laugh behind his hand, before his expression chilled, along with the air in the store. 

“As I said, baby doll, I’m an impatient man,” Jimin’s stomach jolted at the sudden seriousness in his voice, “I let you have your space for three months. I’m bored watching now.” 

His soulmate fished a card out of his jacket pocket and carefully balanced it on the dead man's fat belly, before he put his cigarette out on his skin. 

“I’ll come get you tomorrow afternoon. Keep your mouth shut and pack your bags in the meantime.” 

Jimin’s nose crinkled as the smell of burning flesh reached his senses. 

His soulmate stood to his feet before he motioned to the small ticking clock on the wall. 

“Your shift is over, go home, Jimin.” 

~ ~ ~ 

“The fuck!?” 

“Tae, please-” 

“Shut up, Hoseok, my best friend came home covered in blood and crying so don’t you dare tell me I’m overreacting!” 

The redhead simply steered Jimin in through the doorway and led him to the couch. A sob ripped though his lips as his legs hit the soft plush. He didn’t quite know why he was crying. The fact he had almost been assaulted? The fact that he had watched a man die? Was it because his soulmate was the killer? Or was it because his soulmate had left him again? 

His best friend was on his knees in front of him within moments, wiping at his hands and cheeks with a wet rag. 

“Minnie? Talk to me please.” 

Jimin leaned his head on the frantic man in front of him and nuzzled into his shoulder. 

Silence hung in the air, along with the distant melody of his fated song. 

“I saw him again.” Taehyung’s busy fingers stilled. “He killed a man right in front of me.” 

He felt his friend shudder under his head, but he kept quiet. 

“He’s so beautiful, Tae,” he cried, his face contorting as he sobbed, “but so cold. I want him so much, but he’s going to hurt me. I know it. He’ll kill me, just like how he promised he would when he first broke into my apartment.” 

In a flash, his best friend’s arms were around him, crushing his bones as they both cried. Jimin hadn’t spoken about the details of that night, and Taehyung, despite the curiosity eating away at him, hadn’t asked. 

Jimin didn’t want him to worry, and despite everything his soulmate had done, some sick part of him wanted Taehyung to approve of him. 

Jimin cried a lot that night, but not nearly as much as Taehyung did. The blonde ended up falling asleep between his best friend and his soulmate. 

~ ~ ~ 

Buzz. 

Jimin groaned and turned his head into the silk pillow under his head. He desperately clung to the sleep trying to leave his body. 

Buzz. Buzz. 

“Hobi, you get it.” His best friend’s groggy voice sounded out. 

“I got it the last time there was a guest, it’s your turn.” 

Taehyung let out a wail as he threw his limbs out of the bed. Jimin rolled away from the window and stuck his once exposed toes against his best friend’s soulmate who groaned but didn’t move away. 

“Holy shit!” Jimin’s friend shouted from the hallway. “Who the fuck is this hottie?” 

A jolt of excitement shot down his spine, but was quickly covered by goosebumps of fear. 

“I’ll come get you tomorrow afternoon.” 

“Fuck,” Jimin sprung out of the bed and bolted towards his friend who stood by the intercom. 

There his soulmate stood. He was dressed down, a simple black shirt that clung to his broad shoulders and dark ripped jeans. His hair was messy and his dark eyes peered up at the camera, sending sparks straight to Jimin’s gut. The man tongued his lip piercing, a small smug smile on his lips. 

“Do you know him, Minnie?” 

Jimin turned towards his best friend with wide eyes and that was all Taehyung needed. The brunette quickly skidded down the hall and back into the bedroom for reasons unknown to Jimin, but he was too distracted to care. 

Jeon Jungkook. 

His soulmate. He was here. He was here for him, and Jimin, like the idiot he was, hadn’t internalized that when his soulmate had told him he would. 

“Jungkook,” he tried his name out, and it tasted so good in his mouth. 

He had learned what he assumed was the man’s name from the little piece of paper he had left on the corpse. The card was thick and small. Jeon Jungkook was typed out neatly with nothing but a symbol made up of complex geometric shapes inked on it. Jimin left the paper on the body, he assumed it had been left for a reason he didn’t want to involve himself with. 

An inked hand came into view and another buzz filled the air. 

With shaky fingers, Jimin pressed on the intercom button. “What are you doing here?” 

A smile erupted on his soulmate’s face. “You know why, baby.” 

Taehyung rounded the corner, phone in hand with an alerted Hoseok trailing behind him. 

“I’m not coming.” 

His soulmate’s smug smile didn’t falter. 

“Let me in before I break down every door standing in between us. I’ve told you before, I’m not patient. Don’t test me.” 

Taehyung pulled him away from the door and rushed him down the hall. “You have to go, Minnie.” 

His best friend sat him on the bed and handed him his phone while he scrambled to throw Jimin’s clothes in a bag. 

Jimin watched him shove random articles of clothes before he turned to bark at him, “look at my phone, Min.” 

Confused, he complied and looked down at the small piece of technology in his hands. It was an article, one titled with his soulmate’s face. 

“Notorious Serial Killer of Seoul Finally Caught.” The article read and Jimin’s heart sank. He knew his soulmate wasn’t a good man. He knew he was a killer. But a convicted one was new news. Jimin’s brain was too fuzzy to even attempt at comprehending the article contents. Mindlessly, his fingers scrolled through until he hit the bottom and distantly made out another article under the Related News section. 

“Seoul’s Killer on the Loose After Attack in Transit.” 

Not only was his soulmate a convicted killer, but one on the run. And for some sick reason, that made Jimin sad. 

Not by the fact that he was a cold blooded killer, but that they would never live a peaceful life if Jimin ever did give in to him. Deep down Jimin knew that if he ever did, he’d be led down a dark path, one where he’d likely end up hurt. 

With renewed vigor, he shot off his bed and grabbed the bag from his best friend’s hands. 

“I can’t go with him, Tae, I can’t.” 

Tears pooled in both their eyes. 

“I know, Minnie.” 

“That means I have to leave.” 

“I know.” 

“That,” Jimin’s voice broke, “that means I won’t see you for a long time.” 

A bittersweet smile displayed itself on Taehyung’s features. “I know.” He whispered. The pair met in the middle of the room, arms wrapped tightly around one another. 

“I love you, Tae, you’re my real soulmate.” His friend sobbed into his shoulder. 

“And you’re mine, Jimin.” 

Without looking back, the blonde took off down the hall towards the fire escape. Sobs sounded in the room he left behind. He ripped the window open and the cold afternoon air brushed his cheeks. He took a step onto the metal stairway. 

“Tae!” He heard Hoseok yell, “the man is gone!” 

Fear spiked in Jimin’s chest. He had already decided to abandon the man, he refused to get caught doing so. 

His footsteps pounded against the steps as he took two at a time. His feet were heavy, as if his own legs didn’t want to carry themselves away from their soulmate. But Jimin knew it needed to be done. His soulmate wasn’t a good person, he was cold, possessive, and a killer. Someone Jimin didn’t need in his already sad life. 

His feet stopped. 

But this was his soulmate. 

The man he was running from was the one the universe had made for him. Sculpted his features, created his personality, and guided him through his life all with Jimin in mind. 

If his soulmate was a bad person, what did that make Jimin? 

The sound of a fist knocking on metal pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked down to the pavement to find the man plaguing his thoughts leaned against the bottom of the fire escape. He looked relaxed despite the fact he had just caught Jimin running away from him. 

“Ready to go?” his silky voice filled his ears and Jimin wanted to cry again. 

“I was running away.” He murmured and took slow steps towards him. Jungkook let him. He waited for him to make his way to him until he stood only a foot away. Jimin fiddled with the strap of his bag at the humiliation that filled his gut. A tattooed arm reached out and circled his waist and he was pulled against a solid and warm body. 

“Yes, and what are you doing now?” 

Jimin looked into the dark eyes that reflected his own. He let his hands raise themselves and trace his facial features. He ran them across his strong nose, his thick lips, the small scars that decorated his cheeks, the even smaller freckles and moles. He let his hands explore until he sprawled them out along his strong chest and dug his nails into it. 

“I’m ready.” 

The man whisked him off the stairs and led him down the alley to the parked car waiting for them, as if he knew Jimin would run all along. 

He didn’t know what it meant for a man like Jungkook to be his other half. He was scared of the meaning, really. But as he watched the man drive away from everything he held safe and sacred, he couldn’t find it in him to care. 

And maybe that sick feeling was the part the universe had made for Jungkook. 

[elleaa11]

Sing to Me ~ J.J.K x P.J.M

Pairing: Killer!Jungkook X Sad!Jimin

Genre: Soulmate AU, Yandere AU, Horror Romance

Warnings: Stalking, Obsessiveness, Yandere, Murder, Violence, Attempted Suicide, Mentions of Parental Abuse, Mean!Jungkook

Synopsis:

Jimin's world was dull. Completely lifeless and void. In his small corner of the world, darkness swallowed everything around him completely. He could hear his quiet sobs and his tears as they hit the floor, but most importantly, he could hear a song. 

His song. 

Because for some reason, God gave every pair of soulmates a song that sounded on loop in their brain to help them recognize one another. 

Jimin wasn't exactly a hopeless romantic, but of course, he had fantasized endlessly about meeting his fated. 

He just had never imagined the first time he would hear the sweet melody of the said song come out of someone's mouth, that he would have been held at gunpoint by said singer. 

or a Soulmate AU with a dark twist. 

Full story on AO3 here Chapter TW:// Descriptions of depression. Break-ins. Descriptions of violence.  Word Count: 4.5k 

Part I

The sky lightened up with the first rays of the setting sun with pale pinks and yellows. The light clung to the remains of the day, away from the indigo that stalked in the corners of the vast infinity above his head. 

Jimin’s gaze fell from the sky to the horizon in front of him. He could see the edge of the world from where he was standing. He could see the abyss under his feet, just a few small steps away, but he was too young to care about the danger grasping onto his ankle. 

He’s too young and too reckless to care, even though his skin is paper-thin with vulnerable blue veins branching under the surface, traveling up his arms, and nestling around his heart. 

He found it hard to care about the world that had turned its back on him, so he does what he feels is right and turns it into a war zone. His own personal playground in this vast metropolis with too many people and too little humanity. A humanity that clings to the young children and the elderly with desperate fingers, praying to all deities out there for a miracle even though humanity shouldn’t be a prayer. Jimin finds it funny how the tables have turned, it’s ironic, and overwhelmingly tragic. 

He takes a deep breath, taking his surroundings into his lungs. The air smells toxic, like gasoline from the nearby airport. It settles in his chest and strangles his heart. It’s March. It should smell like spring. Like freshly cut grass and cherry blossoms, and daisies, but it stopped being like that a long time ago. 

Jimin turned his back on the cityscape and made his way across the rooftop. The doors barely hanging onto their hinges slam shut behind him. He walked down one flight of stairs, then two, then too many until he finally landed on his floor; the first. He unlocked his door with a sigh and walked on tired legs towards his bedroom. 

He made quick work of discarding his grimy work clothes that stuck to his skin with the sweat and hard work of the day, and replaced them with a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. The sweats have holes in the knees and the hoodie is his favorite, its age and stains spoke for themselves. 

Jimin’s life was a dark place. That was a fact he was too overwhelmingly aware of. He sat in his room at night by himself and couldn’t help but feel like the night was eternity. He could sit in a place with a thousand people but would feel invisible to everyone. He walked on a path without any directions, without any idea of when it would end. His life was full of one emotion and he always felt like he was meant to suffer alone. 

He slept in misery and sorrow, he grieved with no hope. Thinking felt blinding and deafening. Blinking felt like being unable. His heart hung heavy with feeling discarded, unwanted, and unloved. He captivated nothing and no one. His life was a bad dream he couldn’t be awoken from, one where he couldn’t see the light of day. 

Loneliness. 

Loneliness contrasted the heart. Loneliness crippled the body and mind and soul. Loneliness was unconscious and numb. Loneliness was endless tears longing for change - any change that would tell him he was alive. Because loneliness was dying at every moment. 

To him, loneliness was death. 

But Jimin wasn’t completely dead yet. 

Although hope slipped through his fingers more day by day, the song that played over and over in his head, played for every living breathing moment, made the cold and icy grip life had on his fragile heart loosen. 

He hummed the song every day, but not like how he used to. When he was young he would scream the tune with a wide smile, hoping that the person that shared the same repetitive song would hear him. Now it was just to remind him that there was someone capable of loving him. 

Because for some amazing reason, the universe gave every pair of soulmates a song. A song that played in their heads from the moment they are of age to the moment they die in the arms of their soulmate. 

But for some cruel, inconceivable, reason, the universe wouldn’t give Jimin his. Most pairings found their one and only between the ripe ages of sixteen and twenty. His very own parents found each other at thirteen. But Jimin was twenty three, and with each day, his hope was slowly fading. 

Because some pairs never found each other. 

His friends and mother had reminded him more times than he could count how rare never meeting your soulmate was. But despite their good intentions, he couldn’t help the late nights he would spend reading articles and horror stories. 

People die young, from sickness, murder, and accidents. A study posted by a scholar known for his immense research on soulmates had said that if one couldn’t find their soulmate by twenty five, the likelihood of ever finding them was highly unlikely. 

Either the cruel world had taken someone precious early or had decided to play a sinister prank on Jimin. 

He still remembered the first time he heard his song. He had been drawing in his kitchen. A small yellow sun in the corner looking down on a poorly drawn version of himself as he rode a purple crocodile. He hadn’t had green, but he decided he quite liked purple. His father was at his side, grumbling into the phone as he tried to book a bounce house for Jimin's birthday party that weekend. That was when he heard it. It was faint, yet beautiful. It vibrated in his bones and immersed his soul in its melody. It filled him with pure glee and made his tired ache from the day fade away. 

“Mommy!” He had called. His mother walked into the room with an apron and face covered in flour. She never had been the best baker. She crouched beside him as he lay sprawled out on the kitchen floor. She gave a small endeared hum of acknowledgment. 

“Can you turn that pretty song up, mommy?” He was sure his eyes had sparkled when he asked the question. 

His mother and father had turned to each other, pure happiness in their expressions. They had both crushed him with hugs and kisses as they explained what the song he was hearing was. 

He remembered being overwhelmed with joy. He had a special someone, just like his mommy and daddy did. He was going to be loved like that. He remembered crying in joy along with them. 

But Jimin also remembered that in the middle of his teenage angst, that joy was nowhere to be found. 

He was drunk. His brain ran in circles, chasing its own tail, as music screamed around him. He sat upon his best friend's bed as a party raged downstairs. Usually, his best friend would be curled up in the soft sheets with him as they drowned themselves in stupid board games and the cheap alcohol his best friend’s frat had managed to get their hands on. But he was alone. His best friend had a soulmate to accompany. He didn’t need to waste time with Jimin anymore. 

The music pounded in his head. It was loud, but not loud enough. Not loud enough to drown out the song that had been playing repeatedly in his head since his sixth birthday. He was annoyed. The tune was never changing. Never ending. He was done. The stupid song was supposed to bring him to his soulmate, his everything, his other half, not cause his insides to twist in sorrow and make his eyes burn every moment he was alone. And every part of him at that moment felt like that would be forever. 

So, in his drunken state, he banged his head on the wall in his best friend’s room and woke up in the hospital the next day. 

Jimin flopped heavily onto his unmade bed as he shook his head to push away his unpleasant memories. A soft sigh escaped his lips as the pressure of the day slowly began to pick itself off of his shoulders. In his pocket, an aggressive vibration makes a grunt of frustration slip through his lips. He pulled out his phone, swiping across the cracked screen. 

“Hey, Minnie!” His best friend’s face illuminated the screen as it became full of his blinding box smile. 

“Hey, Tae,” Jimin responded, trying to push the exhaust out of his voice. 

“Guess what the fuck happened in the-” The screen suddenly went black as shuffling sounds were voiced through the small speaker in his phone. Jimin rolled onto his back and stretched his limbs as a fight took place on the other side of the call. 

“Hey, Jim!” The facetime crasher yelled as his face came into view, a gentle heart smile spread across his features. 

“Hey, Hoseok,” Jimin called out meekly to his best friend’s soulmate. His heart clenched painfully every time the man was around. Taehyung had found him in their first year of college, they had bumped into each other at a library and had hit it off. Jimin remembered the exact moment they had figured out they were each other's one and only. Hoseok had been in the shower, singing their song softly and his best friend all but jumped him then and there. Jimin excused himself from their shared dorm, not wanting to be caught in the aftermath. 

He liked his best friend’s fated one a lot. He brought light into Taehyung's life that Jimin could only dream of giving him, which only pained him more. Jimin would never admit it out loud, but sometimes seeing how happy they were caused a sinking feeling to fill his stomach. He wasn't jealous Taehyung was happy without him but jealous he had found such an amazing other half. He craved what his best friend had found so easily. 

“Don’t mind Tae, he’s just trying to scare you.” the redhead smiled. 

“Am not! I’m warning him, Hobi! You don’t understand how dangerous the neighborhood he’s in is!” He heard a muffled voice protest. 

“You warn him every other day about a new danger lurking! Jimin is a big boy. Remember how you scared him into being too scared to go out for drinks with his coworkers and they met that one famous singer?” 

“But it’s different this time! I swear! A serial killer that’s been on the loose for years, years! He’s got the highest kill count in South Korea, and he’ll be sleeping just a few streets away from Minnie!” 

Jimin stared blankly at the screen as a fight between the lovers began, and both wrestled for the phone. Small yelps and giggles sounded as the picture in his view became too difficult to decipher. He sighed and pressed the little red button that had been calling his name since he had answered the call. He loved Taehyung. He truly did, but the man tended to be a bit overprotective. He called Jimin at least once a week to warn him about a new inmate that had been sentenced to the prison about twenty miles from his complex. 

He tossed his phone to the side and pushed himself up further on the bed so his head could rest on his soft pillow. 

Jimin would be lying if he said that as soon as his head hit the pillow he fell asleep. Like most nights, he would be up for a while, nothing but the darkness and his thoughts accompanying him. 

~ ~ ~ 

Jimin would also be lying if he said that the thought of dying had never sounded appealing. Never having to feel again. Never having to think. Sometimes, even the thought of never having to wake up to his alarm again was enough to make him want to finally throw himself over the edge of the fine line of barely living he’d settled on. 

But as he sat in his small closet shivering, his hands clasped tightly over his mouth in a pathetic attempt to keep in his sobs of fear, he didn’t even want the notion of death in his head. 

He tried to call himself. Distantly, he can feel his brain decide that the only way out is to order his brain to function, to demand solutions instead of letting his anxiety dictate his actions. He tried, he really did. He knew it wasn’t the best area when he had moved in, so, under Taehyung’s advice, he kept a baseball bat by his bed, which he had dumbly forgotten to grab when he was awakened by his living room window being smashed in. 

He heard it coming; the susurration of its footsteps beat down his hall like a threatening whisper. It didn’t seem to come from any direction, but it was enough to keep him inside his cocoon of despair and hopelessness. 

But not only did the echo of carelessly placed footsteps reach his ears, but a voice did as well. It was soft at first, barely noticeable. But as it grew closer it seemed all too deafening against the silence of the dark night. It was a beautiful voice and it hummed a more beautiful melody. An unforgettable song. 

His song. 

The deep voice hummed it confidently, happily, as he walked around Jimin’s small apartment, rummaging through drawers and cabinets. It felt as if his soft humming vibrated the entire apartment down to its very foundation. 

Jimin had always thought the melody was beautiful. Call him biased if you must, but it was the most beautiful song he had ever heard. There was no poppy tune or nostalgic vibe that could even hope to uplift him as the song in his head did. He thought he’d never hear anything more ethereal than the track in his head. 

But the gentle humming that rang from his living room forced him to stand corrected. 

Distantly, Jimin heard the click of his television click on and the local news filled the almost eerie silence, and his brain finally began to function. It went into overdrive as it started to think of multiple scenarios. 

Would his soulmate kill him? 

Has his soulmate hurt other people? 

He had to have been a criminal on the loose, who would break into a shabby apartment like his if not to hide? 

What if- 

A low chuckle interrupted his haywire thoughts, the intruder entertained by what he was watching on Jimin’s small and outdated television. Slowly, Jimin removed himself from his hiding spot and toward his bat and phone on the bed. The second his phone is in his hands, his fingers make work to call the police, but he freezes, his finger hovering over the call button. 

That was his soulmate out there. The person he had been waiting for all his life. The person the song in his head had been singing for, for as long as he could remember. 

But he was an intruder. 

He had broken into Jimin’s home and had made himself at home. He hadn’t even bothered to fully check the rooms before settling in, the man would have been able to find him in a second if he tried to look. 

But this was his soulmate. 

The man had to have been there for a reason. 

The only option was to talk to the intruder. 

Jimin shakily made his way towards his bedroom door, it was painted a sad white, said paint peeled around the edges. But as his fingers hovered over the handle, the TV clicked off. The blonde froze as the humming picked back up and footsteps closed in on his door.  Jimin hastily made his way back and watched from outside of his body as the door was pushed open. 

A tall figure stepped in, pushing all the air out of his lungs with his appearance alone.  His eyes connected with big brown ones, blown wide in surprise. They stood there for a moment and Jimin knew that the image before him would be imprinted into his mind forever. The man is tall, almost a full head taller than him, and Jimin can tell what pure solid muscle is tucked away under his black tracksuit. The intruder had dark raven locks that fell messily into his eyes, a slight curl to them. 

He was beautiful. 

Jimin watched as his soulmate’s lips turned up into a sinister smile. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of silver, and his soul suddenly zapped back into his body. 

“Wait! Wait!” He heard his voice scream out. 

The raven haired man stared at him, as if daring him to continue, but Jimin didn’t know how to. The man before him took his hesitance as an excuse to stall for time and he approached the blond with hurried footsteps. He took his arm in his strong hands and opened his mouth to bark demands, but Jimin beat him to it. 

“Just chill the fuck out, you fucking fuck!” 

The man before him was only momentarily stunned and Jimin was harshly pulled to his side, the barrel of his soulmate’s gun pressed almost painfully into his temple. 

“And give me one good reason why I shouldn't splatter your brain along your pillows, pretty boy?” 

Lord. 

The universe was so cruel. 

His soulmate’s voice was deep and went straight to Jimin’s gut. He breathed his words down the blonde’s neck and he wanted nothing more but to hear the man pressing a gun to his head speak again. 

But, of course, that had to have been the first thing his soulmate ever said to him. 

The taller gave Jimin a flick of his eyebrow - good lord, he had an eyebrow piercing, and fuck, was that a lip piercing? - signaling to him that his patience was running thin. An inquisitive  “hmm?” vibrated against his arm from where he was pressed up against the man. 

“B-because-” 

He paused. The words didn’t seem to want to leave his lips. The sentence he had been dying to speak for years no longer felt real. He didn’t want it to be real. It couldn’t be. The dramatic reveal he’d daydreamed of all his life. His years of waiting would come to this? 

“Because what, sweet thing?” 

His hands shook from where he had them fisted around the bottom of his hoodie. He took a deep breath and slid one of his hands to the gun. The intruder didn’t flinch as Jimin took hold of the weapon in his small hands. He didn’t try to pull it away, but he leaned his head into it and looked into his soulmate’s eyes with all the courage he could muster. 

“Because I’m your soulmate,” he finally uttered quietly. Jimin’s heart lurched when the man slowly reacted. Jimin wasn’t sure of what he had expected him to do. Gasp and embrace him? Put down the gun and apologize? But his face stayed as cold as the metal of the gun pressed against his head. 

He didn’t believe him. 

And by the look in his eye, he didn’t like the talk of soulmates coming out of his mouth. 

“Really?” The air was pushed out of his chest as the dark haired man pushed him roughly onto the bed. “Prove it, then.” 

In one fluid motion, the intruder caged him in with his thighs as he pulled his shirt over his head. Jimin’s eyes popped out of his head as he took in the pure fucking scenery above him. 

The man was built, with thick arms, and thick thighs, decorated with a pack of abs that made him drool. He had a sleeve of dark tattoos that bled into a dragon that wrapped around his shoulder and sat fiercely on his pec. Jimin’s eyes widened as his brain processed the slash in the man’s side. Blood marred up his side and filled in the lines of the dragon tail that curled around his side. A bullet had grazed his skin just recently. 

He hovered above him, his soft curls brushing Jimin’s forehead as he looked intensely at the blonde lips. The intruder breathed rapidly, with need or pain, Jimin didn’t know. All he knew was that with every breath his soulmate breathed, he greedily drank in. 

“You’re hurt,” left his throat in a whisper. The man merely hummed in agreement before he used the barrel of the weapon in his hand to slowly lift the base of Jimin’s hoodie. The cold metal against his skin caused a small gasp to jump in his chest, and he didn’t miss the way the rave haired man’s eyes darkened. 

“Such soft skin,” the intruder said in a hush, a gravel to his voice. A tattooed hand slid under the little remaining protection his hoodie offered and rested on his ribcage. Jimin’s mind reacted before his brain could and he arched into the touch. A smug smile spread across his soulmate's attractive features. 

“You’re going to be a good boy for me, aren’t you?” Jimin’s blonde locks fluffed out across his pillow as he shook his head. 

“If you go any further than this,” he gripped onto the inked hand that felt like fire on his skin,  “you’ll regret it.” 

The man threw his head back and Jimin wanted to lick up the jugular of his neck. “I don’t regret anything, sweet thing.” 

“You wouldn’t regret your first time with your soulmate being against his will?” 

His dark hair fell into his eyes as he looked down upon Jimin. His eyebrow piercing quirked up as he spoke, “ah, yes, because you look so unwilling. 

“Do you know how many pathetic whores have used the soulmate card to escape my wrath?” 

“-m not pathetic,” he slurred as the man above him lowered himself onto his elbows, his strongly sculpted nose brushing his own. 

“But you are a whore?” 

Before he could refuse the claim, his lips were split and the silver of the gun slipped into his mouth. His eyes widened and his soulmate looked hungrily down at him. The gun tasted coppery and left a bad taste in his mouth. 

“Stop, talking baby,” his voice was soft and almost as gentle as the thumb that brushed his cheek, “if you’re good enough for me, I might even let you live.” 

Jimin’s heart raced in what he knew was fear. Not because his life had been threatened, but because it was his soulmate that had staked the claim on taking his life. Was this what his life was meant to look like? Like bullet wounds, tattoos, and danger? Was this the man that he was meant to love? 

And as he looked back and forth between his soulmate’s dark eyes, he didn’t know if love was even possible for him. 

Without a second's hesitation, he jabbed his hand into the intruder’s side. His palm came back wet and warm as his soulmate crumpled down over him. He used the man’s moment of weakness and grabbed the gun from his hand before he slid off his bed and turned the gun on him. 

The raven haired man was on his feet within seconds, his hand grasping his side. 

Jimin backed away slowly and rounded the side of his bed. The man gave him a look, the kind of look a parent would give their child to say, “seriously? Put that down.” 

“What are you doing?” he asked, he sounded fed up and bored at the same time. 

“Stay back!” Jimin growled as the man began to approach him, not a shred of fear in his eyes. 

“An innocent thing like you?” his eyes crinkled up as he laughed. “You couldn’t hurt a fly if you tried. Now give the gun back. You shouldn’t touch things you can’t handle-” 

“The only reason I haven’t put a bullet in between your eyes is that I don’t want to wake up Mrs. Perkins from 208.” 

Jimin doesn’t mean it. He knows that. The man he threatened knows that. But Jimin still felt a sense of power at how the man stilled in his tracks, his expression going lack. 

“That,” he glared through his long lashes, “and you’re my soulmate, you fucking prick.” 

“You’re still on that?” His soulmate snarled. “Listen, you’re cute, but don’t taint the name of my soulmate like that, you sack of shit. A soulmate for a man like me will be a god. Not a pathetic slut who can’t even work a gun and is so poor they have to live in a shit hole like this.” 

Jimin’s bruised heart cracked. 

His soulmate didn’t want him. 

fated. 

His one. 

His match. 

He didn’t want him. 

He wasn’t good enough for him. 

A soft sob broke from his lips. 

Tears streamed down his face and the injured man before him simply stared at him and watched him unravel. 

He hated it. 

The judgment in his eyes. The disapprovement on his face. 

He hated it. 

He hated him. 

Softly, he began to hum. 

The sound of the gun’s safety being clicked off sounded in the air with his song. 

Their song. 

Jimin watched through wet lashes and unfallen tears as his soulmate’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. A vulnerable expression he hadn’t known the man was capable of making. 

Bang. 

Jimin continued to hum as he watched as his soulmate fell to his knees. A string of cuss words screamed over the blonde’s soft singing. 

He threw the gun onto his old sheets that itched if you rolled around in them for too long. He walked on shaky legs towards the man bleeding in the middle of his bedroom floor. The latter’s chest heaved in pain and he clutched his thigh which was marked with a fresh bullet wound. 

“Call me a slut again, and the next one really will be in between your eyes,” he spoke over his tears, and he turned. He walked down his small hallway, out of his even smaller apartment, and took off down the dully lit street. Rejection clutched harshly onto his chest and he banged on his chest in an attempt to get the knots building there to unclamp. 

Unbeknownst to him, his soulmate watched him with his dark eyes and thought to himself that the man that had left him there on his knees might actually have been a god, to begin with.