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

    Fanfiction

    || BTS x Reader Poly Soulmates || In a world where soulmates are confirmed with algorithms, can human connection still thrive? It's 2025, the LoveMap App promises to revolutionize how we find love. Based on intricate data, emotional intelligence, a...

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    Chapter 87: Plants, Pinkies & Paper Cranes

    Start from the beginning 
                                            
    
                                                  
    "Do you want something else?" I ask. 
    "I also have-brace yourself-honey-dipped dried persimmons." 
    He huffs. A real sound. Almost a laugh. 
    "I'm serious!" I reach into the tote bag beside me and pull out a small container. 
    "They look sketchy, but they're addictive. Want one?" 
    He hesitates. Then, after a moment, he reaches out. 
    His fingers brush mine for the briefest second. Warm. Solid. Real. 
    I look up and catch his gaze. He looks away instantly, cheeks a little pinker than before. 
    That flicker of vulnerability? I hold it carefully. Like a flame in my palm. 
    I decide to keep my voice soft. 
    Playful, but not overwhelming. 
    Like talking to a scared animal who's wandered too close to the campfire. 
    "You don't have to talk, you know," I say. 
    "I'm good at monologuing. Really good. Ask anyone." 
    He raises an eyebrow. I take that as permission. 
    "So, I was thinking-if soulmates are real, which, obviously they are because, hi, LoveMap," 
    I gesture at the space between us, 
    "then does that mean the universe has, like, a sense of humor? Because it matched me with someone who's allergic to eye contact." 
    His lips twitch. Again. A win. 
    "I'm kidding," I say quickly, grinning. 
    "Sort of. You have the intense brooding thing down. Very mysterious. I like it." 
    He shakes his head, and this time, he actually chuckles-quiet, short, but it's like the sun peeking through storm clouds. 
    I feel myself lean into that warmth, eyes lingering on his face just a second too long. 
    
                                
    
                                    He's beautiful
                                
                                  
                                  
                                    
                                      
                                      
                                    
                                  
                                 
                                
    
                                
    
                                  
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    He's beautiful. So beautiful. 
    There's something raw about him. 
    Like a song that hasn't been finished yet. 
    You know it's going to be a masterpiece, but right now it's still trying to figure itself out. 
    "I don't want to scare you," I say, more serious now. 
    "I know this is weird. A lot. Trust me-I've been through enough to know how terrifying people can be. How scary love can be." 
    He looks at me then. 
    Really looks. 
    His brows furrow. 
    I press on. 
    "But I also know what it feels like when it's real. When it's warm. When it doesn't want anything from you except you."
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