Stigma Love's Algorithm [ A BTS x Reader Poly ]

Chapter 65: Jazz Bars to Bed Sheets 🔥

My breath stutters.

I feel it too-the weight in the air, thick and heavy between us.

Every brush of his fingers, every pull of his hand guiding me deeper into his space, feels deliberate.

His thumb strokes my lower back where the fabric of my dress ends, grazing bare skin. My skin burns under the contact.

"Tae," I whisper.

His voice dips lower, dangerous. "Hmm?"

"You're going to ruin me."

His smirk could cut glass. "Noona..." He leans forward, lips grazing the shell of my ear. "That's the idea."

I shiver, gripping his shoulder tighter, my other hand still laced with his.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against my temple, his words drenched in adoration but laced with hunger. "And you have no idea what you're doing to me right now."

I tilt my chin slightly, breathless. "I think I do."

The way he pulls me even closer leaves no room between us. I can feel every inch of him now-the steady rhythm of his heart matching mine, the heat radiating off his chest, the quiet storm swirling behind his eyes.

And then... his hand moves, tilting my chin up.

The room around us disappears.

The only thing I feel is him.

He leans in.

And when our lips meet, it's slow-painfully slow-but electric.

His mouth moves with mine in sync, gentle at first, like we're both testing the waters. But neither of us pull away. Instead, the kiss deepens, burning and sweet, a promise laced with restraint.

His fingers tighten around my waist, pulling me so close it's hard to tell where he ends and I begin. Our mouths dance, just like our bodies, and it's intoxicating-the press of his lips, the soft scrape of his teeth, the muffled sighs we exchange.

But it's not just the kiss-it's the way we're holding ourselves back.

Because we're still on the dance floor.

Still in public.

But the fire between us could rival the sun.

Taehyung exhales sharply against my lips, breath ragged as he breaks the kiss just barely. His forehead presses to mine, both of us gasping softly.

"Fuck," he whispers. "Noona, I-"

I swallow hard, heart racing.

He pulls back, eyes dark and full of need. "Let's go," he murmurs, voice hoarse and low, like a plea and a command all at once.

"W-What?" I breathe, still dazed.

"We have to leave," he exhales, visibly struggling to keep it together, his pupils blown wide, lips swollen from the kiss.