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

Chapter 108: Confessions, Cranes & Cosmic Chaos

Eventually, we pull back. Just a little.

Our noses bump, breath hitching, lips swollen and tingling with every syllable we haven't spoken yet.

I laugh, winded and overwhelmed.

"Sorry," I mumble against his mouth.

His eyes sparkle, giggle warm in his chest.

"No, I like it," he whispers back.

"Very us. Awkward and hot."

I rest my forehead against his, grinning so hard it hurts.

Our breath fans between us, warm and damp and laced with everything we just became.

"We're idiots," I say, still breathless.

His fingers brush the side of my face, soft as starlight.

"Yeah," he says, giggling into my cheek.

"But hot idiots."

And right now?

That's enough to build a whole new universe on.

*ding!*

Both our phones vibrate.
We glance down.

You have reached a Romantic Connection Phase with Taehyung.

You have reached a Romantic Connection Phase with Jungkook.

We stare. Then burst into laughter.
Like, ugly laugh.

He collapses into my shoulder.
I double over. We can't breathe.

Hyung wipes a tear from his eye.
"Bet Yeontan saw the whole thing."

"Witnessed our downfall," I wheeze.

Tannie lets out a sleepy grunt from across the room, as if confirming it.

Wacha opens one eye, stares at us like she's already drafting a restraining order, and goes right back to ignoring our existence.

Taehyung hyung pokes my side.

"If she ever joins LoveMap, we're doomed."

"We already are," I grin, nudging him.

We settle again, our laughter trailing off.

Still smiling. Still riding the high of something that's only just beginning but already feels... right.

"You taste like salt and regret," Hyung whispers, smiling against my mouth.

"And you taste like forgiveness and marshmallows," I mutter, grinning.

"That's because I am forgiveness and marshmallows."

I laugh, loud and real.
He laughs too.

The kind that bubbles out of your ribs and makes everything feel lighter.

We collapse sideways, wrapped in the blanket now, tangled together like two kids at a sleepover who accidentally fell in love.

And maybe we did.

Accidentally.
Quietly.
All at once.

"Hey," I whisper, tracing circles on the back of his hand.

"Promise me something?"

He looks up. "Anything."

"Don't ever throw that crane away."

He reaches for it again, places it gently between us.

"I won't," he says. "It's part of my map now."