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

Chapter 130: The House That Waited

“What would someone even get from messing with it?” Tae asks.

Yoongi doesn’t answer right away. His eyes are far away.

Namjoon picks up the thought.

“The app’s coded to adapt to soulmate matches in real-time. If someone could access or manipulate those connections…”

“They could control the data,” Yoongi finishes. “Maybe even change them.”

Silence drops like a stone.

“But why?” Hobi says.

“What would anyone gain from screwing with soulmate maps?”

“I don’t know,” Namjoon says,

“but it’s not about one person anymore. I think Jungkook disappearing was the start of something… bigger.”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Jimin argues.

“If it’s about us—why not go after someone else? Why Kook?”

I speak before I can stop myself.

“Because he’s the heart.”

Everyone turns toward me.

“He’s the one who feels everything the loudest. The one who keeps us close even when we don’t realize it.”

I swallow thickly.

“He’s sunshine and fight and music and home. If someone wanted to break us, they’d start with the thread that ties us all.”

Yoongi nods slowly. “And they did.”

Hobi sits back against the coffee table, lips pressed together.

“We’re not going to break.”

His voice is quiet but strong.

“We can’t,” Tae adds. “Not over this.”

Jin oppa reaches across the table and gently lays his hand over mine.

“We won’t. Not if we hold the line.”

There’s a long pause.

Then Namjoon says, “Even if he comes back… things might be different.”

We all look at him.
He doesn’t flinch.

“He’s hurting. We all are. It might take time to rebuild. But we can do it.”

Jimin lifts his head. “He’ll come back. I feel it.”

Yoongi sighs. “I just hope he doesn’t wait too long.”

A sudden gust of wind brushes the windows. The branches of Kook’s tree rustle in the dark.

I sit up straighter. My heart’s beating faster and I don’t know why.

Wacha perks up in my lap.
Tannie lifts his head from Hobi’s thigh.
Even Bam, curled near the hallway, rises to his feet.

The room goes still.

Tae’s eyes narrow.
Yoongi pushes his chair back.

Then—
A sound.

The front door clicks.
A key slides into the lock. Turns.
Footsteps.

We all freeze.

My breath catches in my throat.
Because it’s not just any sound.
It’s his.

That walk. That rhythm. That quiet strength padding over the threshold like he never left.

And just before we move—before we see him—The light from the entryway spills faintly across the floorboards.