Killer - BTS Park Jimin x Reader

Heat

I didn't go see Jimin at 8.

I nearly couldn't stop myself going: it was very hard to fight the heat. My hand had rested on the door knob and I had pressed my face against the door until I could will myself to go and sit back on the bed.

I had heard him stalking around outside my door, but he never came in, never said a word. He looks like he regrets that decision as much as I do. I hate to admit it, but I wish he'd come in. Maybe then I could've gotten some sleep. I had lain awake all night, tossing and turning as desire coursed through me and not very PG thoughts were in my head.

Jimin has bags under his eyes and disheveled hair that he keeps running a hand through as the students have their heads down writing essays on Pride and Prejudice. He stares at me with inhuman intensity and is seriously distracting me.

I stare at the blank page before me as heat forces itself through me and rain beats down outside. Maybe writing the essay will help take my mind off of things. It doesn't.

When Jimin let's out a low growl that goes unnoticed by the class it sends me over the edge. I gasp as it sends a bolt of electricity through me and glare at him as I clench my thighs together and hold on to the desk for dear life, not missing the pained expression flit across his features as he shifts uncomfortably in his chair. I'm glad he's having as hard a time as me. Oh gosh, hard.  If I keep this up I'll jump him before class is even over.

We've still got two more periods.

Maths seems longer than usual during fourth period, though it is maths, but maths doesn't usually have heat warring with my emotions. I only eat at lunch so people wouldn't suspect me of anything, even though I hardly spoke and had clenched fists the whole way through.

Fifth period is science and it goes by slower than a wet week, the teacher's droning voice dragging along until the very last second. It doesn't help that every time the clock ticks heat throbs at my unmentionables.

As soon as the siren sounds I sprint out of the door into the pouring rain, hoping the cold water will shock this feeling out of me. I'm soaked as soon as I've made it to the first car in the car park and smile without humour. Should I just give myself up? That's one thing for sure that would make it stop.

I had spied a motorbike through the pouring rain but didn't think anyone I knew owned it, so when I hear a distant rumbling I pay no mind to it, distracted enough as it is.

When it pulls up on the pavement in front of me I'm startled enough to momentarily forget the heat, but then I spy who sits upon the beast of a motorbike and it comes rushing back.

"Jimin," I whisper, it wasn't a question though. I think I half expected it to be him, somewhere through my heat filled mind. The rain has plastered his white shirt to his sculpted, toned body until it's nearly see-through, the ridges of his muscles visible and flexing as he moves. Hair plastered to his forehead with water, he looks at me with eyes already glowing gold that pierce through the rain with inhuman intensity. I can see murder written there that's warring with something more primal, something that makes me shiver.

I probably look terrible, school shirt and skirt sticking to me like a second skin that probably isn't leaving anything to the imagination as I look up at him through dripping, bedraggled hair. The heat ticking like a time bomb, I decide I'm not going to just give myself up - at least I don't plan on it.

His eyes slowly drag up my body, teeth biting his lip and hands clenching against his thighs. "Y/n," he let's out a low growl that makes me take an involuntary step forward, towards him. I shake my head, sending droplets flying everywhere. The rain still beats down and I nearly miss his next words, but I don't miss their meaning. "Get on the bike."

I tell myself it's the heat that propels me forward to the man I barely know, sitting on top of a motor bike in the pouring rain. It's the heat that made me give myself up to said man. I force myself to stop before I jump on it, before I give myself up and submit to my fate. "I-I don't know you," I whisper, barely audible, but he still hears with what I now know is wolf-like hearing. He nods as though he understands, making me wonder what he's going to do with me.

"I'm Park Jimin, a werewolf, a teacher and ... your mate," he was trying to form a basis to start with, but the way he said he was my mate made me shiver. I look up at him through hooded eyes and throw my leg over the bike in front of him, the handle bar now behind my back and Jimin a hair's breadth away in front. He looks surprised for a moment but then he looks famished, hands hovering above my thighs, nearly fully bare from where the skirt rode up.

He breathes as though he's been running a marathon and is visibly shaking in an effort to hold himself back, but as I delicately place my hands on his chest, he growls and snaps. He leans forward abruptly and claims my lips with his unfairly plump ones, hands coming down to hold the smooth skin of my thighs, slick with rain water. I'm pushed back against the handle bar as he reaches for my shirt and it takes all the will-power in the world to stop myself from doing anything else.

"W-wait," I stammer, clutching onto his shirt and breathing heavily. His hands stop trying to undress me in the middle of the street but his mouth finds its way to my neck, sucking in a way that makes a small sound burst out of my mouth which is followed by another low growl from Jimin and his hands clenching the material of my shirt. "We-we're in the o-open," I finally manage to stumble out breathlessly, more sounds surprising me as they make their way out of my mouth.

It's only when I shiver, though with cold or something else I don't know, that he pauses his assault on my neck and sits back, gazing at me with lust filled eyes. "Yeah," he mumbles. "Yeah." He reaches around me to grab the bars, which presses all of him against me, and fumbles with the ignition.

I can't believe what I just did. I got on the bike backwards, for heaven's sake. Who does that? And I don't even know the man I did it with. I've known of his existence for a total of a week. One week.

I'm seriously doubting myself right now. But, in my defence, it felt so good. Plus I was heat-stricken.

As the engine purrs to life and Jimin glides the bike through the rain that was still pouring down, he puts an arm around my waist and whispers something in my ear that makes me gasp with the bluntness but shiver with anticipation and hold tighter.

I may barely know him, but he was my mate and I was in my heat. Closing my eyes I lean into him and wish the bike would go faster. His words effected me more than they should for someone I barely met, the eagerness I felt not entirely because of the heat.

"I'm going to take you, when we get home. Mark you as mine, claim you for myself."