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

Chapter 120: This Quiet, Loud Love. 🔥

"You know, I felt a disturbance in the force."

"You would've felt it harder if you lived here," Kookie mumbles.

Jimin laughs, leans against him, and says, "Tempting."

Y/N noona watches them from the kitchen, eyes soft but something guarded flickers in her expression.

I follow her gaze.
She's watching Jimin.
But... not just Jimin.

She glances at the side table.
Gabriel's mug is still there.

The one he always uses when he visits. Next to the sketchpad he left behind.

Even gone, his presence lingers like a shadow we pretend not to notice.

And though she doesn't say anything-doesn't need to-I see the way Joon hyung stiffens across the table, lips pressed into a line.

The way Yoongi hyung glances at her, then at Jimin, then back to his coffee.

The balance is delicate.
We're a family built on truths and timing. And sometimes... truth runs ahead of timing.

But for now-Jimin is here.
Gab is gone.
And love is louder than longing.

Later, when the breakfast plates are mostly empty and Tannie is curled in Yoongi hyung's lap, I lean my head on noona's shoulder and whisper, "You okay?"

She doesn't answer right away.
Then-"Yeah. Just... learning how to hold all of this without breaking anything."

"I understand," I agree. "But no matter what, we're not going anywhere."

She smiles.
And for a moment, it looks real.
Solid. Like home.

________________________________

Y/N's POV

The house is humming.

Not loudly. Not like earlier with all the teasing and laughter and Hobi threatening to "sue for slander" when Tae reenacted last night's "opera of pleasure" with props (a whisk and a cereal bowl).

No. Now it's the low, contented kind of hum. The kind you feel in your bones when everything's right, even if just for a breath.

Dinner was quiet. Peaceful.

Jin oppa made a pasta that had Jungkook whimpering like it was illegal.

Tae kept sneaking cheese into Jimin's bowl.

Namjoon read off wine facts from a label like we were at a vineyard.

And Yoongi refilled everyone's glasses without asking, humming along to the faint jazz playing in the background.

Now it's hours later.
And the house glows like a memory.

I walk down the hallway barefoot, fingertips dragging along the cool painted wall, and peek into the game room.