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

Chapter 122: In Every Universe, It's You 🔥

I whimpered in response, legs tightening around him.

"You're-God-Tae-"

He kissed my jaw, my throat, the hollow beneath my collarbone.

My hands clutched his tighter.

We moved together, sweat-slick and trembling, a mess of tangled limbs and whispered names.

The room was filled with breath, the soft creak of the bed, the subtle smack of skin against skin.

Every push, every pull, every stroke of his hips felt like another line in a poem we'd been writing for years.

I was lost in it.
In him.
In us.

"Tae, I-"

My voice cracked as he moved deeper, pressing against that place inside me that made the world go quiet.

"I've got you," he murmured. "I've always got you."

Tears stung the corners of my eyes.
Not from pain. Not even from pleasure.

From love.
From being held like this.
From being seen.

His pace stuttered, a low groan pulled from his throat as he kissed me again - desperate now.

Our chests rubbed, slick and hot. I kissed him back with everything I had left.

"Don't stop," I whispered. "Please-don't stop."

He didn't.

He kissed my shoulder.
My cheek.
My lips again and again.

"You're everything," he whispered between thrusts. "Everything."

And in that moment - with the stars outside our window, with the memory of our duet still dancing in my limbs, with his body wrapped around mine like armor - I knew one thing,

We weren't performing anymore.
We were living it.

Every step. Every breath.
Every shiver of pleasure.
Every tear shed from love too big to hold in.

He moved within me like we were made for this.

And I let go.

Of fear.
Of control.
Of everything but him.

Taehyung moves like gravity - steady, commanding, inevitable.

He doesn't let go of me.
Not even for a second.

When he shifts, lifting me into his arms, I gasp, arms automatically locking around his neck, legs still trembling from before.

He carries me like I weigh nothing-like I'm not already half undone.

We don't speak as he settles back against the headboard, his back against the pillows, pulling me into his lap.

The only sound is our breath, ragged and syncing.

My hands rest on his chest.
His heart is hammering.

"You okay?" he whispers.

I nod.

"More than."

I guide myself against him again, feeling his cock slither inside me, filling me up, grinding against the walls- this time, I'm facing him, watching him.

And it's different like this. Closer. Somehow even deeper.

I start to move.
Slowly. Deliberately.

My hands on his shoulders. His on my hips, guiding me but never controlling me.

Every time I sink down on his cock, our mouths brush.