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

Chapter 112 : The Cracks that Rebuilt Us 🔥

My whole body spasmed, thighs shaking, hands clutching the sheets like they were the only thing tethering me to this plane of existence.

I felt him behind me-heard the way he gasped like he'd taken a punch to the chest, the sharp, desperate sound of a man coming undone.

His hips stuttered, his breath broke, and then-

"Y/N-FUCK-Y/N!"

He cried out, low and primal, body jerking behind me as he buried himself deep and spilled into me, pulsing with heat and surrender.

"Oh my-fuck-baby-"

he groaned, collapsing forward, his forehead pressing to the back of my neck.

Our cries echoed through the room, overlapping and raw.

The world blurred around us-just white noise and heartbeats and the taste of tears I hadn't realized were still falling.

His weight settled over me, warm and trembling.

Neither of us moved. Not right away.

He stayed wrapped around me, arms anchoring me tight to his chest, hips still pressed to mine, his breath stuttering against my shoulder.

I turned my face to him blindly, panting into the silence, mouth parted, eyes glazed.

"Joon..." I whispered.

He didn't speak. Didn't move.
But I felt him.

I felt the way he buried his face into the curve of my neck, nose pressed to my skin like he was hiding from the world there.

Like I was home.

I threaded my fingers into his damp hair, the strands sticky and warm beneath my touch, and cradled the back of his head.

Holding him there.
Holding us there.

The only sound now was our breathing. Still erratic. Still synced. Still the same.

And in that stillness, I could feel it-that tether stitching back together.

Frayed, yes. But not broken.
Never broken.

"I love you," I murmured into his hair.
"So much."

He shook in my arms. Just once.
A silent tremor.

Then he pulled back, just enough to look at me. His eyes were glassy, storm-lit. Like he was still inside the aftershock.

"I almost lost you," he said hoarsely.
"I almost let myself lose you."

I cupped his cheek, fingers splayed wide, and pressed my forehead to his.

"You didn't. We didn't. We're still here."

He kissed me. This time slow.
Deep. Less desperation, more devotion.

It wasn't just a kiss.
It was a promise.

______________________________

When we finally untangled from each other, he helped me turn over, both of us sticky and slick and trembling.

He pulled the sheet up over us and wrapped himself around me, arms tight at my waist, chest to my back like he never wanted to let go.

His palm found mine beneath the blanket. Our fingers laced.

I could feel his heart thudding against my spine, steady and sure. And I could feel my own-matching, calming, whole again.

"Still scared?" I whispered.