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

Chapter 115: Hearts, Paws, and Patience

Joon kneels next to him, setting down his tablet slowly like he's afraid a single vibration might disrupt the sacred peace.

"One small cuddle for a pup," he murmurs, reverent, "one giant leap for dog-kind."

Yoongi, leaning in the doorway, smiles into his mug.

"Trust earned," he says quietly.
"And apparently, nap privileges granted."

And none of us-none of us-can stop smiling for the rest of the day.

By day twelve, the towel trade between Bam and Wacha has turned from strategic to sentimental.

They've both adopted each other's scents like gifts-dragging their respective towels across cozy corners, curling into them during naps, grooming near them like they're comfort objects.

It's not just tolerance anymore.
It's recognition.

That night, we're all in the master's bedroom, tangled up on the oversized bed-our impossibly large, custom-built island of warmth and limbs and whispered laughter.

Jin oppa is flopped dramatically across Yoongi and Jimin's legs, reading text messages aloud in dramatic voices.

Yoongi's arm is draped across his waist, eyes closed but lips curved. Jimin keeps kissing Jin's temple between giggles.

I'm tucked between Hobi and Tae, warm and boneless. Tae's fingers draw lazy shapes on my thigh under the blanket, Hobi's nose is nuzzled into my hair.

Kook is curled up behind me, arms snug around my waist, lips grazing the back of my neck every few minutes like he can't not kiss me.

His breath is warm and sweet with whatever dessert Jin made us eat in bed.

(It was cheesecake. We have zero regrets.)

And on my pillow-because of course-Wacha is curled like royalty.

She lifts her head, ears flicking.

Downstairs, we hear the gentle thump of paws.

Bam.

Probably on his way for drink of water, or to make sure his favorite toy hasn't disappeared in the night.

We hear shuffles of tiny feet following him, Tannie. He always does now.

Not with growls or suspicion-but with quiet loyalty.

He always trots a few steps behind Bam like a curious little shadow, soft paws pattering along the hall.

Sometimes he huffs, as if pretending he's just coincidentally going the same way.
But his eyes are always on Bam.

And when Bam pauses to sniff something or turns to check where he is,
Tannie's already there-waiting, close,
like he was never not meant to be.

And Wacha?