|| BTS x Reader Poly Soulmates ||
In a world where soulmates are confirmed with algorithms, can human connection still thrive?
It's 2025, the LoveMap App promises to revolutionize how we find love. Based on intricate data, emotional intelligence, a...
He carried me-through the garden, down the pool deck-Right through the open patio door.
Straight into chaos.
"Oh my god," Hobi yelped, nearly dropping a plate of tteok.
"Do you have to carry her like a drama lead?" Jungkook squeaked. "This is a family house!"
"Hi, yeah, I'm still emotionally fragile," Jimin deadpanned. "Could you not make out in my line of sight?"
Tae gasped dramatically. "You kissed?! Did you talk first?! Was it meaningful?!"
Jin, already wiping his hands on a dish towel, sighed. "They're fine. Everyone calm down. Let them go upstairs before Jungkook combusts."
Namjoon didn't stop walking.
He didn't say a word.
He just nodded to the group like some prince returning from war with his bride. And marched us straight up the stairs.
Hobi whispered something like, "God, love is so hot," as the door clicked shut behind us.
The second it did- He kissed me again.
Harder. Pinned me to the door.
My hands were everywhere-his shoulders, his chest, the line of his jaw. His mouth was fire and forgiveness.
He pulled back just enough to whisper, "Still scared."
And I said, "Me too."
Then I kissed him like we were brave anyway.
He lifted me again and carried me to the bed.
Not to fix us. But to remember where we still belonged.
Together.
In a love that was messy and flawed- But still burning. Always burning.
______________________
🔥Content Warning: This section contains explicit sexual content and adult themes. Proceed at your discretion.
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Namjoon's lips never left mine as he carried me across the room - my back pressed to the door one moment, then gently lowered onto the bed the next, the world a blur of heat and hunger.
His hands mapped me like he was relearning a language he thought he'd forgotten.
Reverent. Rough. Everywhere.
My fingers tugged at his shirt, yanking it up his chest with no patience, no elegance - just need.
"Off," I gasped against his mouth. "Now."
He laughed - breathless, wrecked - and ripped it over his head.
My hands were on him instantly, palms skimming over warm skin and ridges of muscle.
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