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

Chapter 107: Mischief, Menace, and Moonlight 🔥

Looking up at me like I was something sacred.

And then-"Can I help you focus, hyung?"

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🔥Content Warning: This section contains explicit sexual content and adult themes. Proceed at your discretion.

His voice was velvet soaked in smoke, words a caress wrapped in mischief.

My fingers froze on the keyboard.

Breath stuttered.

"Kookie..." I managed.

His hands slid up my thighs-strong, steady, unhurried.

Heat bloomed where he touched, fire threaded with something deeply familiar.

He knew me too well.

"I said I'd help," he murmured, tone slipping into something darker.

"Multitasking. Isn't that what you're good at?"

I opened my mouth to reply but then felt the deliberate tug at the waistband of my boxers.

My hips shifted, instinctual, traitorous.

"I'm-" I tried again.

"Busy. I know." He looked up through his lashes. "That's why I'm here."

His fingers hooked my waistband and pulled-slowly, painfully slowly.

My breath hitched as the fabric slid down, releasing me.

My cock already half-hard, heavy with anticipation. The air hit and goosebumps raced up my thighs.

Kook didn't even blink. "Beautiful," he whispered like a secret.

Then he moved.

He slipped under the desk like a shadow, graceful, predatory.

The chair creaked as I leaned back, surrendering. My hand gripped the desk edge, white-knuckled.

He looked up at me again from between my legs-eyes full of hunger and heat and something that made my spine shiver.

His hand wrapped around me-confident, slow.

I moaned, low and guttural, fingers twitching on the armrest.

"You're so hard already, hyung," he murmured, voice thick.

"Did I do that?"

I groaned, reaching down to bury my hand in his hair. "You always do this to me..."

He laughed softly. Then leaned in.

His mouth hovered, hot breath brushing the tip, not quite touching-cruel, deliberate.

"Let me worship."

His mouth found me like a prayer.
Hot, slow, reverent.

Kook's lips wrapped around the head of my cock, the barest suction pulling a sharp breath straight from my lungs.

His tongue swirled-deliberate, unhurried-as if he had all night, as if this was his temple and I was his altar.

My head fell back with a quiet, shattered moan.

"Ahh-fuck, Kook..."

My fingers buried into his hair, pulling just enough to feel that sweet resistance.

He whimpered at the sound of my voice, the praise, his hands gripping tighter around my thighs.

I felt the tremble in his arms, the hunger in his breath as he took more-inch by inch-his throat working like he was memorizing every curve.