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

Chapter 127: Uninvited and Unwelcome

Kookie sits beside him, one leg bouncing, scrolling through a YouTube comments section with more anger than should ever be directed at usernames. Bam is in dreamland snoring on his leg.

Tae is half-asleep on the floor, Tannie sprawled over his chest like a heated blanket made of sass.

Joon stands in the mini lounge, absentmindedly stirring honey into tea like he's trying to make alchemy happen.

He glances up just as Yoongi and I step quietly in the room.

Doesn't say a word-but his eyes catch mine for a second, then Yoongi's, reading more than either of us would ever admit.

A subtle nod.
The kind that doesn't need language.

It's not curiosity. It's confirmation.
He knows something shifted.

Jin oppa's perched on the table, nose deep in a recipe book he swears he's not memorizing for fun.

Hobi stands behind him, arms wrapped around his waist, chin on his shoulder, reading upside down and correcting his math with quiet confidence.

At one point, Jin oppa huffs at something he miscalculated and flicks flour off a page-Hobi, without missing a beat, reaches up and gently swipes a stubborn streak off his cheek with his thumb.

His touch lingers a second too long.
Not to fuss-just because it feels right.

Oppa doesn't say anything.
Just smiles and leans ever so slightly into the touch.

Joonie still standing nearby with his tea, steps past Yoongi and without a word tugs the edge of Yoongi's hoodie down in the back-adjusting it like it's a reflex.

Yoongi glances at him, just once.
Doesn't speak. But the corner of his mouth softens, and that's answer enough.

There it hits me.
How connected we are.
How fragile that feels tonight.

Yoongi slides in beside Namjoon, hands still in his hoodie pockets.

They don't speak. But Joon nudges a mug toward him without looking.

Yoongi takes it.
It's quiet.
Unspoken. Steady.

Jin oppa tosses me a gummy candy.
I catch it.

Hobi grins at me like he's clocked my mood already, and I don't have to explain it.

Jimin pats the couch next to him, and I sit. He leans his head against my shoulder. Doesn't say a word.

Kookie glances up, scans my face, and goes right back to scrolling-but slower this time. More careful.

Tae peeks open one eye and reaches for my foot with his toe, poking it once. Like a Morse code of his own.

I breathe in the air.
I let them ground me.
Each one.

Because even though I'm scared, even though I feel the slow, creeping unease Yoongi can't unsee, this-they-are my tether.