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

Chapter 107: Mischief, Menace, and Moonlight 🔥

Then I see him.
Taehyung.

His head pops up the second I walk in, sketchbook forgotten mid-line.

He perks up like someone flipped a switch-like a sunflower finally spotting its sun.

The lazy, sleepy-eyed look he wears around everyone else sharpens instantly, something electric flickering in his gaze that's just for me.

We move toward each other without speaking-like the house made space for us to meet in the middle.

He's in an oversized sweater that's slipping off one shoulder, and his feet are bare, toes curling into the soft rug.

His curls bounce as he walks, catching the light like they're flirting with me.

My heart? My heart does that annoying little hiccup thing it does whenever any of my gorgeous soulmates smile at me like that.

I lift a hand and brush a curl off his forehead, fingers lingering just a second too long.

His skin is warm beneath my touch.

"You're late," he whispers, soft like dusk.

"Deadlines," I murmur back. It's an apology.

An ache.

He tilts his head, eyes scanning my face like he's reading between the lines of my exhaustion.

"You look tired."

I exhale, brushing my knuckles down his cheek. "I saw your face. Now I'm not."

His eyes flutter closed-for just a breath. But it's everything.

Later, we're on the balcony.

One oversized mug between us, our fingers tangled around the ceramic like we're trying to hold each other together through tea.

The city stretches below us, the sky a mess of indigo and gold.

Yeontan's snoring softly, curled against Tae's hip like a furry comma.

There's no music now. No voices. Just the wind and the thrum of closeness.

"I missed you," Tae says, not looking at me.

I lean in and kiss his temple.

"Same," I say.

And it's not enough. But it's also everything.

Flash to Gangnam.
Our apartment. Friday night.

My studio looks like a high-tech spaceship crash-landed into a stationery store.

Five screens. Headphones on every surface. Sound panels blinking like city lights. Project files labeled things like finalfinal_REALLYFINALplease.mp4.

I'm running on cold brew and blind faith.
There's a fitness video due to a U.S. sponsor.

A meditation collab that requires me to whisper affirmations like I don't have a raging headache.

A Gen Z mental health campaign ironically driving me to the edge.

But then-like clockwork-Kookie walks through the door at 11:48PM.

Hoodie over his eyes. Hair sticking up like he lost a fight with gravity. And that soft look in his eyes like I'm the only thing on the planet that makes sense.

"Long day?" I ask, not even turning from my screen.

He kicks off his shoes.

"Coached the new esports team. Shot a brand ad. Did a live stream. Someone called me hyung during a fan meet and I almost cried."