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

Chapter 112 : The Cracks that Rebuilt Us 🔥

His hands braced against the mattress, then slid to my hips, guiding me, grounding me.

His lips found mine again and again, our mouths chasing each other in stuttering desperation.

Then he paused.
Right at the edge.

Right when the pleasure was about to swallow me whole.

"Look at me," he whispered.

I did. Bare. Breathless.

"If I lose everything," he said, voice trembling, "but I still have you, I'll survive it. Just-don't walk away from me. Not ever."

I cupped his cheek again, heart split open.

"Never," I swore. "Even if the world burns. I'll be right there, burning with you."

He kissed me again, and it was everything.

He sat up, pulled me with him, holding me in his lap. His arms around me, our bodies still connected.

And then-he began to move again.

I gasped, head falling to his shoulder.

His hands gripped my hips, lifting me and pulling me down with each thrust, hard and deep and consuming.

The rhythm was primal.
Maddening. Beautiful.

"Joon-please-"

But he didn't relent.

"Not yet," he growled. "I'm not done loving you."

His mouth found my neck. My shoulder. The curve of my breast. He kissed, bit, soothed - every part of me claimed, tasted, adored.

I was gone.
Unmade.
Held.

The world blurred.

I don't know when my back hit the mattress, or when Joon's mouth found mine again-but the second it did, I forgot where I ended and he began.

Heat roared beneath my skin, a wildfire of every emotion we'd buried for days-rage, grief, longing, love.

They collided inside me like thunder, like the crack of heaven splitting just to let us feel again.

His kiss was brutal and beautiful-teeth and tongue, reverent and ravenous.

His hands moved like he was memorizing, rediscovering, re-learning every inch of my skin with something closer to awe than lust.

But the lust was there.
God, it was there.

"Say it again," he rasped, his lips dragging down my neck, open-mouthed and hot.

"Say you're mine."

I whimpered, arching into him as his body pressed me deeper into the sheets.

"I'm yours. Always."

"Fuck-" he gasped, like the words shattered something inside him.

"You undo me, Y/N. You always have."

My fingers raked through his hair, tugging, and he groaned against my throat, his hips moving slow and hard, grinding into me like he needed to drown in the friction.

The sounds-God, the sounds.

Our gasps, the soft slap of skin, the creak of the bed. The whispered curses. The rasp of his voice-rough, low, wrecked.

"Look at me," he murmured, pulling back just far enough to make me chase him.

His thumb dragged down my jaw, tilting it up, eyes blazing. "I want to see you fall apart."