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

Chapter 130: The House That Waited

Not to go anywhere.

Just to be surrounded by people who aren’t waiting for me to come home.

I sit on a bench between platforms and scroll aimlessly through my messages—the ones I’ve turned off but not deleted.

Twenty-seven missed calls.
Eleven from her.

Tae hyung. Hobi hyung. Jimin hyung. Yoongi hyung. Joon hyung. Joon hyung...Noona, all of them.

Jin hyung sent a text that just says,
“Wherever you are, you’re still ours. Come home when you can.”

I read that one twice.
Because I don’t know if I can.
Not yet.

And then something strange happens.

I open LoveMap—not to check my match, just… out of habit.

I haven’t used it much since Dara’s match failed. I still remember the quiet way she shrugged it off, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Sorry, noona. Yoongi hyung.
But this app’s been buggy for a while now.

But when I log in, there’s a flicker.
Something on my profile.
A change.

Tiny. Almost nothing. Just the way my “primary location” is no longer auto-mapped to the house.

It’s shifted.
And not to here.

To somewhere else—a district I haven’t visited in over a year.

I frown. Refresh.

The IP address on my login history is wrong.

It's logged a location and time stamp while my phone was off.

Which means someone else accessed it.
Or something else did.

My stomach twists.
And my heart follows.

Yoongi hyung’s frown flashes in my memory—sharp and focused, the crease between his brows like it’s carrying all our names.

Joon hyung's shoulder, solid and warm, the one I always leaned into without thinking, because he was there. Always.

Taehyung hyung’s sketches. Torn corners. Curved lines. The way he draws the people he loves like he’s afraid we’ll disappear if he doesn’t catch us in charcoal.

Jimin hyung’s laugh. That sunshine crash of sound that makes the walls feel less heavy. The way he calls me baby like it’s a prayer.

Jin hyung fussing over side dishes no one asked for, scolding me with a smile when I forget to eat. That soft hum he does when he pours tea.

Hobi hyung’s hands. Always reaching. Always grounding. The only person who’s ever understood my silences without asking me to explain them.

And her.
Y/N noona.

My miracle, my maddening, heart-shattering girl. The first and only girl that has ever captured my mind and heart.

Her smile — the kind that undoes me from the inside out.

Like sunlight caught in a laugh.
Like forgiveness wrapped in honey.

The scent of her—soft jasmine and vanilla and warmth.

Like home. Like every time I’ve ever exhaled and known I was safe.

Her fingers threading through my hair on nights I couldn’t sleep.

Her eyes—God, her eyes—holding mine like she could see the ache I never said out loud.

The way she says my name when no one else is listening.