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

Chapter 94: All the Evidences Led to Us ⚠️

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🔥Content Warning: This section contains themes of sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

Jungkook’s eyes locked onto mine, wild and blown wide, his chest rising like he couldn’t take in enough air.

His voice came out low and wrecked, nearly a groan.

“I need you. Now.”

Then he kissed me again—rougher, hungrier. His tongue parted my lips like a demand and I welcomed it with a soft whimper, our mouths moving in frantic rhythm.

He kissed like a man starving, like he needed to memorize me from the inside out.

“Kook—ah—fuck—” I gasped when his mouth moved to my jaw, trailing fire down the column of my throat.

His teeth grazed the sensitive skin just beneath my ear, sending a full-body shudder through me.

One of his hands slid under my shirt, palming over my chest with possessive, greedy fingers.

I arched up into him instinctively, gasping as his palm circled one nipple and pinched.

“I can’t wait anymore, hyung,” he growled, the sound animalistic, needy.

“God, I need you so fucking bad. I want you writhing for me, gasping for me. I wanna feel you come apart under me. For me.”

My breath hitched, hips bucking involuntarily against his.

And then I felt him.
Hard. Heavy.

Pressed right up against me through both our jeans.

“Holy shit, Jungkook,”

I moaned, half-laughing, half-helpless as he rolled his hips against mine again and again.

The friction—fuck—the friction was delicious.

He groaned into my skin, voice thick with lust. “You’re mine. Do you hear me?”

He bit down on my earlobe, gently but firmly, and I let out a choked whimper.

“You’re ours,” he whispered darkly.

“But mine first. Mine to touch. Mine to fuck. Mine to love.”

I didn’t even get a chance to breathe before he wrapped his arms around me and lifted me clean off the couch.

“KOOK!”

I squealed, half from shock, half from the way my legs instinctively wrapped around his waist.

“Shh,” he purred, his lips already back on my neck, nipping and sucking hard enough to leave marks.

“Let me take care of you. Let me make love to you right.”

The hallway blurred around us as he carried me with ease, his body taut with need.

Every step he took sent little jolts of pleasure through me as I ground against his stomach, our bodies already heating to the edge of combustion.

We crashed into the bedroom like a wildfire—hands everywhere, lips frantic, teeth clashing with soft moans and gasps echoing in the dark.

He dropped me onto the mattress, and I bounced once, breathless, legs spread, flushed and panting. Jungkook didn’t even pause.

He crawled over me slowly, eyes devouring me, hands peeling my shirt off before I could say a word.

His lips met the newly exposed skin of my chest like he’d been dreaming of this exact moment for years.

“Fuck—hyung—you’re so perfect. So fucking gorgeous.”

His mouth latched onto my nipple, sucking hard, while his hand worked the other with a sinful precision that made me arch off the bed with a strangled moan.

“Kook—ah—please—”

He groaned, pulling back to look me in the eyes.

“You don’t have to beg, baby. I’m yours. I’m already yours.”

And then he kissed me again—deep, slow, dizzying.

His hand traveled lower, unbuttoning my jeans, tugging them down with urgency, and I helped him kick them off until I was laid bare before him.

His eyes darkened.

“You’re gonna feel so good,” he whispered, his voice shaking with restraint.

“I want every sound. Every shiver. Every fucking second of you.”

He slid down my body, kissing a path over my ribs, my hips, the sensitive skin of my inner thighs.

And when his mouth found my length—when that first, hot breath ghosted over me—I gasped so loud it echoed off the walls.

“Jungkook—fuck—”

But before I could warn him, before I could think, his lips wrapped around my cock fully, and I shattered.

And he didn’t stop.

Not when I trembled.
Not when I gasped his name.
Not even when I begged, breathless and whimpering, voice breaking apart.

His tounge was relentless, swirling around my cock as he devoured me.

Loved me like it was worship.
Made me feel like I was made to be his.

By the time he slid up to kiss me again, I was shaking.

“I love you,” he whispered against my lips, sweat-slick and breathless.

“I love you more,” I murmured, cupping his face, pulling him in deeper.

And when our bodies finally joined—when his length pushed further inside me, rocking into me with that slow, deliberate rhythm—I understood what it meant to be seen.

To be chosen.
To be home.
And he never stopped whispering it.

“You’re mine, hyung. You’re ours. Forever.”

And I knew, even through the haze of passion and fire and tears—This really was just the beginning.