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

Chapter 67: Fairy Lights and First Kisses

“Fine, lead the way, oh great planner of dates.”

Taehyung's boxy smile totally out to steal my heart.

Tae was practically vibrating with joy as he marches us forward. His excitement is contagious, filling my chest with something warm and weightless.

And then, we arrive.
My breath catches.

Before us, twinkling under fairy lights strung delicately across the space, is the most beautiful outdoor ice-skating rink I’ve ever seen.

The rink is nestled in a small plaza, surrounded by trees wrapped in shimmering white lights.

A handful of families and couples glide across the ice, laughter and soft music floating through the crisp evening air.

It looks like something straight out of a romantic drama.

It’s enchanting.

It’s… romantic.

And then I look at Taehyung, who’s staring at me instead of the rink, as if my reaction is more important than the place itself.

“You—” I start.

“Hyung! Isn’t it magical?”

I exhale, shaking my head in disbelief. “You really went all out, didn’t you?”

Tae grins, rocking on his heels. “Of course! You deserve the best.”

Damn it.
I look away, feigning indifference, but my cheeks are warm.

This man.

We get our skates, and the moment we step onto the rink—
It happens.

Taehyung, for all his excitement and enthusiasm, is…

Absolutely terrible at ice skating.
Like, comically bad.

The second his blade touches the ice, his legs wobble dangerously, and he lets out a startled little squeak that makes me choke on air.

"Whoa—wait—OH MY GOD!" He flails wildly, clutching onto my arm as if his life depends on it.

I burst into laughter. “Tae, this was your idea! How are you so bad at it?”

He’s wheezing with laughter, gripping onto me like I’m the only thing keeping him from meeting his demise. “I—I don’t know! I thought I’d be graceful!”

“Graceful?!” I can barely breathe between laughs. “You just walked onto the ice like you were entering battle!”

Because he really did. He literally marched onto the rink—stomping like a soldier instead of gliding—his arms swinging as if sheer determination alone would carry him across the ice.

It did not.

He slips again, gripping me tighter. “HELP ME.”

“Oh my god,” I gasp, wiping tears from my eyes. “You’re adorable.”