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

Chapter 104: The Eight Heartbeat

“Jimin’s on his way?”

Tae’s eyes widen.

“Yeah. And Hyun says he won’t be joining. Jimin asked if we could all be there. Said it’s for creative purposes.”

The room erupts.

“HE ASKED FOR US?!” Hobi shrieks.

“Oh my god, he wants to see us,” Kook practically squeals.

Joon drops the throw pillow like it betrayed him. “This is happening. This is really happening.”

Jin oppa pokes his head out of the kitchen, apron stained and eyes wide.

“Everyone—breathe. No crowding. No confessing soulmate status. No scaring him into a coma.”

“He might feel overwhelmed,” Joon adds gently, stepping beside Jin oppa.

“It’s one thing to kiss one person… another thing to feel the pull from seven people at once.”

Yoongi nods. “We need to let him move at his pace.”

“Got it,” I say. “Play it cool. Casual. No full-on group sobbing.”

“And no spontaneous cuddlepiles,”

Jungkook whispers to Hobi, who pouts.

“I can’t promise that.”

Tae takes a deep breath and straightens his oversized linen shirt, checking the light again.

“I just want him to like what I made. The pitch. The scenes. The vibe. I hope he sees it.”

“You mean besides the part where you’ve been in love with his dance videos every night since?” I tease.

“Shut up,” Tae whines, cheeks red. “That was private!”

“It was in your notes app,” Yoongi deadpans.

We all dissolve into laughter.

And then—The doorbell rings.
Silence. Sharp and holy.

______________________

Taehyung’s POV

The second the doorbell rings, it’s like the whole house forgets how to function.

Everyone freezes mid-motion, like someone hit pause on our collective life movie.

Kookie's halfway through popping an almond into his mouth.

Hobi hyung’s got a throw pillow midair, about to launch it at Yoongi hyung.

Joon hyung's standing behind the couch, one hand still frozen mid-fluff over a decorative pillow like he’s pondering the meaning of existence.

Jin hyung’s head peeks out from the kitchen like a dramatic, flour-dusted meerkat.

And me?
I can’t breathe.

My heart’s hammering against my ribs like a mad drum, fingers clutching Y/N noona’s hand so tightly I’m surprised she doesn’t wince.

She squeezes back, grounding me.

“It’s okay, bear cub,” she whispers with that sunshine-in-a-bottle voice that always calms me down.

“You’re ready.”

Am I?

I don’t know.
All I know is that he’s here.
He’s here.

Park Jimin.
My soulmate.
Our soulmate.