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

Chapter 87: Plants, Pinkies & Paper Cranes

I take a breath.

"I just want to be someone safe for you. Just like how our other soulmates was for me."

For a moment, neither of us says anything.

The silence hums between us, not heavy, not awkward-just real.

Then he nods. Slightly. Like something tiny inside him loosened.

"I don't know how to do this," he says, his voice low and quiet and honest.

"You don't have to," I answer.

"Just... start with banana-cinnamon oat milk."

That earns a real smile.

And it feels like something new has begun. Something small. Fragile. But it's there.

__________________________

The greenhouse had started to dim, the sun slinking behind the clouds like it was giving us space, letting the world fall away one soft golden hue at a time.

Jungkook was still sitting across from me, cross-legged, one hand loosely cradling the half-finished can of banana-cinnamon oat milk like it was something sacred and strange.

He hadn't run. That was something.
He hadn't gone stiff again either.

In fact, he was starting to lean-into me, into this strange shared moment, into the shape of a new connection neither of us knew how to define yet.

"So..." I began, testing the water, "do you play anything outside of Valorant?"

He blinked, then slowly tilted his head, that thick fringe slipping across his brow like a curtain lifting.

"I mean-obviously you're an esports champion," I added quickly, grinning,

"the GOAT of headshots, the destroyer of noobs, the shadow reaper of Pearl and Ascent..."

That got a snort out of him.

Barely there, but I caught it.

A breathy little sound tucked into the curve of his lips.

"I'm not that dramatic," he said.

"Oh, Jungkook-ah," I said, clutching my chest.

"You clearly haven't watched your own Twitch clips with dramatic orchestra music playing in the background. Epic."

His smile curled again-boyish this time, loose at the edges.

"Okay, fine. I play League too."

My jaw dropped in exaggerated horror.

"League? You voluntarily subject yourself to that toxic swamp?"

He rolled his eyes. "It's not that bad."

"Says the man who probably hard-carries and never reads chat."

"Exactly."

We both laughed this time-mine free and stupid-loud, his quieter, but no less real.

The sound of it-God, the sound of it-made something warm bloom under my skin.

"What's your main?" I asked, already preparing for disappointment.

He glanced at me sidelong, coy. "Jhin."

I gasped again. "A man of culture. Beautiful. Elegant. Unhinged."

He laughed softly. "You?"

"Morgana," I said with faux pride.

"Because I like making people suffer slowly and then pretending I'm doing it for their own good."