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

Chapter 120: This Quiet, Loud Love. 🔥

His hips snap, brutal and relentless, his hand around my neck again, squeezing just enough to send my blood singing in my ears.

"Take it," he growls. "Take all of me. Open for me."

I sob-because what else can I do?

"Y-Yes-ahhh-God-Hobi-sir-please-!"

He slams into me, driving out every word but his name.

The room spins.
And still-he doesn't let up.

"You like being ruined, don't you?" he taunts.

"Pretty boy likes being used. My perfect little obsession."

I whimper.

"Yes-fuck yes-I love it-I love you-"

"You're gonna feel this for days."

He yanks my head back by my hair, exposing my throat.

His mouth is on me in a heartbeat-biting, sucking, branding me.

The lights blur. The room trembles.
My heart feels like it might burst under the weight of him.

"I want to hear you scream," he hisses. "Beg for me."

I shatter again.

"Please-sir-please keep going-don't stop-I need you-need all of you-!"

He throws me forward, hands bracing against my back, and slams back in.

I scream.
It's guttural. Unfiltered.
From somewhere ancient and sacred in my chest.

It's not just pleasure-it's surrender.
Complete, unrepentant surrender.

"Good boy," he rasps, grinding his hips deeper, teeth dragging down my spine.

"Look at you. Falling apart just how I like."

"Sir-sir-sir-I can't-I-"

"You will. Because I said so."

He's not just dominant-he's divine. Terrifying in his focus.
Beautiful in his cruelty.

A god I'd pray to again and again just to be broken like this.

"Let me hear you beg again," he demands, voice thick, lips against my nape.

"Please-sir-I need-I need more-fuck me-harder-please-"

And he does.

One hand on my throat, the other on my hip, driving into me with raw hunger and unshakable control.

He's speaking only for me now-low, feverish murmurs against my neck.

"You're mine," he whispers again. "No one else gets this. No one else sees you like this."

"No one," I sob. "Only you-sir-only you-!"

The words are sacred.
His rhythm falters-just a second-as if my words wind him, pull something deeper from him.

And then he flips me again-flat on my back.

I cry out, breath stolen, muscles shaking.
He climbs over me like a storm, leans down, hands on either side of my face.

His eyes are wild. Unhinged and beautiful.

"I could destroy you," he breathes. "And you'd thank me for it."

I nod-feverish. Desperate.
"Please-do it."

He surges forward-his mouth crushes mine, all heat and teeth and need.
I moan into it, helpless.