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

Chapter 125: Breached, but Not Broken 🔥

He kisses me again-harder this time. Messier. Needier.

And I give in completely, fingers dipping beneath the hem of his hoodie, desperate to feel more of him.

We lose ourselves in that moment-in each other.

And for a while, the world quiets.
No code.
No breach.

Just Yoongi and me, syncing in every breath, every touch.

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

His hoodie rides up as my hands explore beneath it, palms sliding over warm skin, feeling the subtle tremble of his abs as he breathes me in.

He's so warm-so real beneath my fingertips, all lean muscle and vulnerability wrapped in tension he won't show anyone but me.

His mouth returns to mine like he needs it-like air.

He kisses with purpose now, slow and consuming, tongue teasing mine in a rhythm that makes my spine arch and my thighs tighten around him.

"Mmm-Yoongi,"

I breathe against his lips, a soft moan slipping out when his hands slide up my sides beneath my shirt, calloused fingers dragging fire across my skin.

He hums low in his throat, the sound vibrating against my mouth.

"You sound so good, baby."

That makes me whimper-"Ahh-"

head tipping back when he trails kisses down my neck, nipping softly at the base until I'm gasping, squirming in his lap.

"Right there," I whisper, voice trembling.

He presses his mouth there again, this time slower, wetter, tongue flicking before he sucks gently at the spot, and my hips roll against him instinctively.

"Yoongi-oh God,"

I moan, clutching at his shoulders, my breath shaky and hot.

He groans at the sound, low and wrecked, tilting his head to bite softly at my collarbone.

"You drive me crazy when you make those sounds," he murmurs, voice deep, dark velvet, chest heaving beneath mine.

I grind down just once, slow and deliberate, and his head drops to my shoulder with a guttural

"Hhng-fuck."

It makes me clench around nothing-heat building between us like a storm, all tension and friction and desperate restraint.

"Yoongi," I pant, forehead to his. "We can stop if you want. I just-"

"Don't," he breathes. "Don't stop. Please."

The desperation in his voice wrecks me.

We're both half-dressed, fully breathless, completely tangled in each other-and somehow, still gentle.

Still us.

I press my lips to his again, slower this time, savoring the heat between us, the way his fingers flex at my hips like he's barely holding himself back.

His hands slide beneath the hem of my shirt, fingertips trailing over my ribs before brushing up, up-until his palms find the swell of my breasts.

I gasp-"Ahhh-Yoongi..."

his thumbs circle over the thin fabric of my bra, teasing me through it, coaxing out every shaky breath like a musician pulling notes from an instrument he knows intimately.