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

Chapter 82: The Smoldering Fuse

Yoongi blushes all the way to his ears.

I laugh softly and press a soft kiss to Namjoon's jaw. Then, turning, I reach up to capture Jin Oppa's lips in mine.

It's slow, sweet, the kind of kiss that lingers even after it ends.

Joon, not to be outdone, pulls me in next, kissing me like he's memorizing me all over again.

By the time we part, my heart is hammering.

More kisses follow-on temples, on cheeks, on foreheads, on lips.

Fleeting. Lingering. Full of us.

By the time we finally untangle, our bodies are loose with exhaustion, but our hearts are full.

"Come on," Jin oppa murmurs, nudging Namjoon. "Let's go to bed before we all pass out on the floor."

Tae groans. "But that's the best part of Christmas."

Yoongi flicks his forehead. "Ridiculous."

Namjoon chuckles, already leading Taehyung toward the stairs.

"Come on, baby bear. Let's get you to bed."

I stretch, covering a yawn.
"Mmm, I can't wait to sleep."

Jin oppa wraps an arm around my waist, tugging me closer.

"You did well tonight, Aein."

I smile up at him, warmth blooming in my chest. "We all did."

Because tonight, here, together-this was everything.

And with the tree lights still twinkling behind us, we finally retire upstairs, tangled and warm, wrapped in the only thing that has ever mattered.

Each other.

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Yoongi's POV

The cabin was silent except for the occasional creak of the wooden beams and the soft hum of the heater working to keep the winter chill at bay.

Sunlight spilled through the large windows, casting golden patches on the floor, the aftermath of last night's Christmas Eve lingering in the air.

half-empty mugs of hot cocoa on the coffee table, a pile of discarded wrapping paper near the tree, and the faint scent of pine and cinnamon still clinging to the space.

I shuffled into the living room, hair still messy from sleep, dressed in an oversized hoodie and sweatpants.

Wacha trotted beside me, her tail curling as she rubbed against my leg before hopping onto the couch.

That's when I noticed Namjoon.

He was sitting with one leg tucked beneath him, his book balanced in one hand, fingers idly tracing the spine.