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

Chapter 128: A Glass House

"I know gaming tech," I deadpan automatically.

He rolls his eyes, unfazed.

"Yeah, great. And I can build IKEA shelves without instructions-but that's not the point."

A few soft laughs break the tension.

Taehyung hyung leans forward again, tone serious now.

"Point is-we may not understand the back-end systems. But we know how to read people. And if someone's trying to mess with you..."

His gaze flicks from Yoongi hyung to Y/N noona, to Joon hyung, then back to the rest of us.

"They're messing with all of us."

Jimin hyung leans back, folding his arms with that deceptively soft edge in his voice.

"If it turns out someone's trying to hurt you-or screw with LoveMap-"

He glances toward Yoongi hyung, whose jaw is tight, unreadable.

"Let's just say... I know where to get IPs. And I know how to make problems disappear."

Yoongi hyung doesn't look up, but one corner of his mouth twitches.

Jin hyung sighs as he slams a cutting board down.

"Can we please not plan any felonies before breakfast?"

Hobi hyung raises his cup in salute.

"Breakfast, vengeance, and emotionally repressed hackers. Just another Saturday."

We all laugh again-but the undercurrent doesn't go away.

It settles.
Warm. Steady.

Hobi hyung moves in behind me without a sound like he always does when he senses a storm brewing under my skin.

He presses a soft kiss to my shoulder, then loops his arms lazily around my waist, grounding me like only he can.

"We've got you, guys," he murmurs, voice low and certain.

"Even if we don't speak hacker."

I feel noona exhale more than I hear it-quiet, fragile.

She hasn't let herself fall apart.

Not once.

But she's unraveling in those small, invisible ways only we can see.

Tae hyung reaches across the table, all sleepy eyes and casual devotion, and gently presses a mandarin slice between my lips.

"Let us be your firewall," he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

And somehow, it is.

Then Jimin hyung, unpredictable in the most Jimin way possible, makes a beeline for Yoongi hyung.

"Hyung."

Yoongi hyung doesn't even glance up.

Still locked in on the flicker of lines across his laptop screen like he's trying to hold the whole breach together with his will alone.

"Hyung," Jimin hyung repeats, sharper this time.

And then-he drops.

Right into Yoongi hyung's lap like gravity works differently for him.

Yoongi hyung jerks slightly in surprise, just enough to make Jimin hyung bounce and smirk.

He cups Yoongi hyung's chin gently with one hand, lifting it with the same reverence he might give a violin.