startaegi

[startaegi]

006. THE REBELLION / DON’T SAY YOU LOVE ME.

summary. where you and namgyu on brink of seperation find yourselves in way of death all to give your daughter a better life.

warnings & tropes. parents namgyu and reader. lovers to enemies to lovers (?), angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending. abusive parents, toxic relationships, potential smut. usual squid game stuff, violence, death, suicide, blood, weapons etc.

pairing. nightclub worker!namgyu x ballet dancer!femreader

a series of knocks pulls you from sleep. you move slowly, your neck stiff as you sit up, eyes blurry as they scan the time on the digital clock across the room: 3:03 a.m. far too late for anyone to be paying you a visit. dressed only in your underwear and a tank top, the summer nights too warm for anything else, you wrap your blanket around your shoulders to conceal yourself as you open the door.

namgyu stood on the other side, one eye swollen shut and slowly turning blue, the other half of his face smeared with blood. he looked at you through hooded eyes, a pleading stare you couldn't ignore.

"what happened?" you breathed, reaching forward to steady him as he swayed into the frame.

"can i come in?" he asked.

you didn't reply, just gripped his t-shirt and pulled him into the small, dimly lit room. you guided him to the sofa, making sure he was seated before heading to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit you kept under the sink, just in case.

your apartment was small, small enough that you could still see him from where you stood. he was hunched over, his growing hair falling into his bloodied face. a pang of hurt hit your chest. you hated seeing him like this.

you made your way back over, kneeling in front of his exhausted body. "what happened?" you asked again, fingers sifting through the contents of the box.

namgyu turned his head to look at you, the movement clearly painful. "fucking hajoon," he muttered, then hissed when you touched his brow with the antiseptic wipe.

you were careful with the cleaning, trying to avoid the worst of the cuts while still making sure they were properly cleaned. "i told you to leave him. he just wants to piss you off," you said, gently moving his hair aside to get a better look at the damage.

"i’m not gonna sit there and let him talk about you like that," he seethed, like he was reliving it all over again. he shook his head, sitting back with a wince. "it's about time someone shut him up."

you didn't need to ask what happened next. you’d figured it out the second namgyu mentioned his name

hajoon was someone who frequented the club, no matter day or night, he'd be there and most of the time, it was to bother the women staff. his vulgar comments had gotten him removed from the building more times than you could count, and yet he always seemed to worm his way back in. you didn't want to know what he'd said tonight to leave namgyu in the state he was in.

"let me see your hands," you said softly, gently taking his scarred ones in your own. you cleaned his knuckles carefully, wiping away blood you hoped belonged to hajoon, and then pressed a hello kitty sticker against his skin, laughing as you did it.

"cute," you smiled, looking up at him from where you sat.

he didn't say anything, only shook his head with a quiet laugh. his eyes lingered, though. on the blanket that had slipped from your shoulder, revealing more skin than you’d intended. the dark marks from the night before still bloomed across your skin.

you didn't move to fix the blanket, only tilted your head with a smile.

"don't look at me like that," you said, voice low.

"how can i not?" he replied, just as quiet. his eyes hadn't moved from you.

he leaned in, legs closing the space, surrounding you. his fingers, cold against your warm skin, traced the curve of your collarbone, then the side of your neck, before settling gently at your jaw.

"look at you."

his touch was soft but burned your skin from the inside out. the room suddenly hotter than it was before. you leaned into his touch, craving it more than anything else in the world. namgyu titled your chin up gently, your eyes fluttering shut as he pressed his lips against yours.

it wasn't rough and hurried like the night before, it was slower and filled with everything you both couldn't say. a silent thank you and a quiet you're welcome. his other hand slid up to rest in your hair while yours clutched the front of his shirt, pulling him closer until there was barely any space left between you.

the kiss deepened for a second, your breathing stopping as he tightened his grip. he tasted like mint and blood and exactly what you needed.

when you finally pulled apart, your foreheads rested together. your breaths mingled in the quiet, heavy air.

you spoke up, voice breathless, "stay tonight"

namgyu only nodded, pulling you back in again and kissing you like he wasn't potentially harbouring a concussion. when you were around, it was hard to think of anything else.

you fell asleep like that, tangled limbs on the sofa, namgyu's hands resting against your unclothed skin while your head lay on his chest, his heartbeat loud in your ears. the world felt still when it was just the two of you. no outside noise from your overbearing, cold families. no thoughts of debt or missed payments. just namgyu and you. nothing more.

but peace never lasted long with namgyu and you were always reminded of it the hard way.

"the following players have been eliminated. player 230, 286, 299, 331, and 401. end of the list."

you gazed around the room in confusion. when had they even had the time to get rid of so many players? the room had been quiet since the last game ended. all the remaining players looked around in the same stunned silence, and only then did you realise, namgyu and myunggi weren't among them.

your heart raced in panic, brain scrambling to recall the numbers just called out through the speaker. you remembered 230 being thanos and felt a dull ache in your chest. the lively boy who once lit up the club was gone now, forever.

thankfully, neither namgyu nor myunggi were part of the fallen. relief passed through you, just for a second, before the doors to the common room slammed open with an abrupt bang.

namgyu rushed through the crowd, arms flailing in the air. "listen, team o! when we were in the bathroom, those fucking x bastards tried to kill all of us!"

his face was soaked in blood, trailing down the sides of his temples and onto the collar of his zipper. it stained the numbers on his chest, the giant blue patch a stark reminder of what he'd chosen to become.

you watched as the sleeve of his zipper slipped up while he spoke, revealing the bracelet that always sat around his wrist. pink, yellow, and blue, far too bright for the eye and ridiculous on someone like namgyu, but he'd promised hanuel he'd wear it forever, or until the thread snapped. now, it was stained red from whoever he had hurt.

you felt bile rise in your throat and forced yourself to swallow it down.

your eyes searched through the bloodied crowd for myunggi, finding him standing near the back, hidden from the others. like namgyu, his face was smeared in crimson. it was a look you wished you’d never had to see. his eyes were sad but distant, as if he were dissociating from everything that had just happened.

o voters began shouting, accusing the x team of everything under the sun, the x team yelling right back. you couldn't bring yourself to care. you didn't hear them. you were too focused on the two men across the room.

namgyu caught your eyes. there was the same hollow look myunggi had, but on namgyu, you also noted that familiar look of regret.

you waited for the room to quiet down, for everyone to gather into groups and begin planning for the night. gihun had warned them that when darkness came, the chaos would continue. those who wanted the money would fight taking out as many players as they could. it made sense now why 001 had pulled you aside hours earlier and told you to hide.

namgyu sat alone. his body was physically shaking, thanos's cross necklace clutched tight in his hand.

he still had that distant look in his eyes, mixed with something else, the creeping high from his pills.

you hesitated, then quietly approached. you sat on the edge of his bunk. "hi," you said softly.

he didn't reply, but he acknowledged your presence with a glance before turning back to the cross, fiddling it between his fingers. you’d brought namgyu back down more times than you could count, had seen him in the worst of his addiction, and stayed through to the other end. somehow, you always knew the right thing to say and yet now, you didn't.

so you settled for the obvious. "are you hurt?" you asked, praying the blood on his skin didn't belong to him.

again, he was silent for a moment. and then, finally, he looked up, his facial expression alone made you want to double over in pain. you’d never seen him look so haunted. "in what way?" he asked dryly.

you swallowed thickly. "what—" you paused, then continued. "what happened?"

he laughed dryly. "that asshole you keep staring at killed him." his eyes dropped to the stained fork that lay beside him.

you froze. time paused, but your heart rate quickened. "myunggi?" you said, voice barely above a whisper, afraid to ask.

his eyes darkened. "you know his name?"

you hesitated. "he's my brother."

namgyu scoffed, loud and bitter, you were surprised myunggi didn't hear it from across the room. "the same brother that abandoned you exactly when you needed him?" he laughed to himself. "and now he's here, killing people, truly a nice guy."

"i—" you couldn't talk. couldn't find the words. your mouth was dry. "he never used to be like that," you said quietly. "i don't know what happened to him."

"why are you defending him?"

"i’m not," you hissed. "do you think this is easy? i’m fucking scared, namgyu. we have a child back home who's waiting for us, and i'm here, waiting for you to come back to me." you stopped, breathless. your hands were shaking. "i'm just trying to keep it together so we also don't end up dead while trying to remember the boy that raised me" your voice broke at the end.

"come here," he said softly, reaching forward for you and taking your hands in his own. his thumb traced the back of your hand. he held on tightly, the warmth of his skin giving you the comfort you needed. you could sense he wanted more, to embrace you in the way his body craved. but not with so many eyes on you. not when your vulnerabilities were used against you.

"i’m sorry," he said. "i'm trying, i am, but fuck, i don't know what this place is doing to us."

you didn't respond. you knew exactly what he meant.

"i won't let anything happen to you," he whispered. "not from him or anyone."

you nodded, tears in your eyes, scared to let them fall. "promise me you won't do anything stupid tonight," you said.

he was quiet but nodded, and deep down you knew he was only doing it to appease you. you just prayed that when the time came, he wouldn't do anything he'd regret.

both junhee and you lay hidden beneath a metal bunk bed. the lights had gone out just minutes ago, casting the entire room in darkness. even squinting, you struggled to see but you could hear, and you wished you couldn't. screams erupted from all corners of the room, bodies hitting the floor with loud, sickening thuds as beds knocked them off.

junhee cried quietly beside you, hands protectively wrapped around her stomach. you held her close, shielding her eyes from the horror outside. every time a person came near, their footsteps pounding against the floor before darting off again, your heart stopped. it was somehow scarier than the games themselves.

you stayed like that for what felt like hours, until your ears perked up. namgyu's voice called out from somewhere in the dark, your name a chant on his lips.

you looked at junhee, then back out again. and before you knew it, you were crawling out from under the bed and standing amidst the chaos.

"namgyu!" you called, loud enough to hear above the screams. "namgyu!"

you found him, tucked in the corner between two beds. player 380 cowered in front of him, the fork that killed thanos clutched between his fingers, pointed in her direction in a threatening manner. you rushed over just as namgyu moved to pounce, fear flooding your body.

"namgyu!" you cried, grabbing the back of his zipper. "c'mon."

he fought you at first, pulling away and turning the fork toward you. his face was unrecognisable, twisted with horror and something darker but when his eyes landed on you, he froze. the fork trembled in his grip, the flickering lights casting shadows across his face.

"please, let's go," you said over the noise, tugging at his sleeve. "please, namgyu." you begged.

without waiting for a response, you yanked him under the bed. he was shaking beside you, his weight heavy as you wrapped your arms around him to stop him from moving. the blood on his hands soaked into yours.

junhee lay to the other side, still curled in on herself in attempt to protect her unborn baby, her eyes scrunched up.

namgyu gripped your hand tightly, his entire body weighing against you. he opened his mouth, then shut it again, then said "i dont even — " he choked on his words. "i feel like i can't breathe"

you gently hushed him, stroking the sides of his bloodied face with your shaking fingers. he closed his eyes against the palm of your hand, melting into your touch, like it was the only thing grounding him.

the lights flickered back on, a warning-like buzz overtaking the speakers as the doors opened. the guards entered, firing their guns into the air, shaking all three of you where you lay. none of you made a move to rise, you only watched in terror as the other players fought off the guards, stealing guns and killing as many as possible.

"retreat," the woman repeated through the speaker, sending all guards speeding toward the slowly closing doors, leaving one behind.

when the room was left only with players, all three of you rose from the floor, standing on shaky legs with fear.

"everyone," gihun shouted, moving across the room with a gun in his hand. "don't be scared, gather round, please! we're not trying to hurt you."

you watched as hyunju fired a shot toward the security cameras, knocking them out with one bullet, while the rest of the x players collected the guns and magazines from the dead guards.

they were really doing it. they were fighting back. and yet all you could think of was the end goal. it was likely to fail, you could sense it.

"everyone," gihun said again. "we'll now head up to the masked men's headquarters. we'll capture the ones who captured us, put an end to this game, and make them pay!"

you looked at junhee. locking eyes, both wearing the same expression, part fear, part disbelief.

"anyone who knows how to use a gun and wishes to join us, please step forward."

no one dared to move. you gripped namgyu's hand tighter, your fingers digging into his skin. you weren’t going to let him put himself in danger again. not that he looked like he was going to, anyway.

once enough players and guns had been gathered, the group left through the small door on the left.

you watched as they left, teary eyed as hyunju and gyeongseok exited through the door without once looking back. fear but determination on their faces. you wished you were half as brave as either of them. you should’ve been out there helping, you knew how to handle a gun, had been taught far too young by a father who shouldn’t have been in way of one. but instead, all you did was stand back and hope they made it back alive.

you’d only known them for a few days, and yet the thought of them not returning made your chest ache in a way you couldn't explain.

previous next masterlist wattpad

notes. so sorry it took so long for this chapter, i was really struggling with namgyu’s character this ep 🫩 act two, s3 coming soon!! also pls let me know if you’ve asked to be added to the taglist before & i haven’t added you, i’ve missed so many comments 😭

taglist. @sollum @meadowfics @nuttybeans @namgyucat @uponmyheart @citarnosis @elmaa127 @luclue @marihoneywk @szkla-nka @lunaryoongie @danart501 @tswsblog @chxrrybomb22 @lvvsisa if you wanna be added to the taglist for all future chapters let me know!

[startaegi]

MOVED ON | JJK

summary. in which it’s been two years since you left, but jungkook’s aching heart still can’t grasp the fact that you’ve moved on

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: exes au, angst

word count: 3.8k

warnings: break-ups, jungkook’s kinda the problem, alcohol consumption, smoking, this entire fic is a warning atp, written in jk's pov

note: can you tell that writing is how i cope lol. anyways this is dedicated to everyone who’s never moved on from anything in their lives. i love you <3 likes, comments, reblogs, asks and feedback are very appreciated!!! enjoy (?) reading my angels, mwah <3

⌗ masterlist. ⌗ taglist.

October 4th.

Jungkook can never forget that day.

He doesn’t mark it on calendars anymore — hasn’t for the past two years — but it still lives in the back of his mind, like a splinter he can't dig out. The kind of memory that shows up uninvited, every single year.

The day he lost you.

The sky is painted in shades of dull grey that make it hard to tell if it's morning or evening. Somewhere between smog and rain, but not enough of either to matter. He sits on the edge of the roof, one leg hanging over, the other bent against his chest. A beer balances against his knee, half-warm.

He takes a drag of his cigarette and lets the smoke slip past his lips slowly. The taste is sharp, a little bitter as it clings to the back of his throat.

He doesn’t even really like smoking. Not anymore. He just does it when he doesn’t know what else to do with his hands, or when the silence gets loud enough to make him feel like he's drowning in it.

The wind isn't even cold yet, but he pulls his hoodie tighter. The sleeves are frayed at the cuffs, a seam near the wrist unravelling. It's the one you used to wear all the time. You’d always complain it was too big, but you wore it anyway, sleeves bunched up past your fists.

He can still see you in it. Sitting cross-legged on floor of your once shared apartment, laughing at something dumb he says. Tossing popcorn at him with absolutely zero aim and giggling when he somehow manages to catch them in his mouth anyway.

That version of you — his version — only exists up here now. Four floors above a rust-stained alley and a busted intercom. In the one place he can still breathe without someone asking if he's okay.

Because he isn't. He's the farthest thing from okay.

He wakes up every day pretending otherwise, going through the motions like it means something. He smiles when he has to, talks when it's expected. But it's all noise. All static.

No one really sees the hollowed-out parts — the places your absence carved open.

He takes another sip. The beer has gone flat, but he drinks it anyway.

There's something about being tipsy on rooftops at night that makes it easier to admit shit. Not out loud, but to himself. Maybe it's the distance; from the street, from people, from expectations. From the version of himself he keeps pretending to be.

Jungkook tilts his head back and stares up at the clouds. No stars tonight. Not that he expects any.

You once told him you hated the city sky. “Feels empty,” you said.

Back then, he’d told you about how once he made it big enough, he’d buy a place by the countryside so that you could gaze at the stars as much as you wanted.

Ha. Well, at least now, he doesn’t have to move to the countryside anymore, right? There’s nothing to do there without you anyway.

The rooftop doesn’t have a railing. It probably should, but no one in this building cares enough to file a complaint. The landlord barely fixes leaks, and Jungkook figures that if someone falls, it’ll just get swept under the next rent increase.

He’s not up here for the view — a sea of brown rooftops and blinking neon signs in the distance isn't exactly the prettiest thing on the planet. But it’s quiet, and that’s something.

He stubs the cigarette out on the concrete, the ash sticking to his fingers before the wind catches it. He watches it drift off the edge and disappear.

It’s always around this time of year that things start slipping. He goes about his days, mostly fine — half-awake, work, gym, studio — but then something hits. A scent, a song, the way someone laughs on the street.

It isn’t dramatic. That’s what people never understand. He doesn’t collapse in the middle of the sidewalk or scream into pillows or punch walls. It’s just this dull, gnawing thing inside him that starts clawing at his aching heart every once in a while.

There have been girls since you. One-nighters, mostly. A few who stay long enough to learn how he takes his coffee or where he keeps the scissors. But none of them ask real questions. None of them know how to be still with him.

He can’t blame them — he’s not really present anyway. He's not sure if he even knows how to be anymore.

You used to sit with him in silence and never make it feel like absence, running your fingers through his hair or humming under your breath. That’s something he’s never found again.

His phone buzzes in his hoodie pocket. He ignores it. Probably Taehyung, maybe Yoongi. Both have this unspoken rotation of checking in when the weather starts to change. They know what October means. They never say your name, though.

No one does. It's like an unspoken rule between all of his friends, and he still doesn't know if he hates it or if he's grateful.

There was a time when he thought he’d find you again. That maybe you were just giving each other space. Maybe you’d show up at one of the smaller shows he does, or finally call. Maybe you’d send one of those weird videos you used to make when you were bored at work.

You didn’t. You never reached out. And it took him an embarrassingly long amount of time to finally accept that you meant it when you left.

That he just wasn’t someone people came back to.

His lighter clicks once, then again, before the flame catches. Another cigarette.

He didn’t even smoke when you were around. Said he didn’t like the smell on his clothes. You hated it, too. You used to wrinkle your nose and wave your hand in front of your face like he was committing a crime.

He used to laugh when you did that.

He hasn’t laughed like that in a while.

The wind picks up, now beginning to bite into his skin. And when he blinks, suddenly it’s not the rooftop under him anymore. It’s pavement. A streetlight. The sound of his car engine idling.

The day he started to lose you. The beginning of the end, if you will.

He was late — again. You’d been waiting outside his place for nearly half an hour. Still in your work clothes, shoes pinching your feet, bag slipping off your shoulder. He remembers because when he finally pulled up, your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes.

You still kissed him, though. Still laced your fingers through his when you got in the car, and said, “Hi, baby,” with a smile on your face, like nothing was wrong.

He didn't say sorry. Not properly, at least. He'd just mumbled something about the traffic being shit, and you nodded and looked out the window.

The restaurant was noisy. Some dim-lit spot you picked out weeks ago. You had to mention it three times before he remembered to make the reservation. He didn’t really taste the food that night. Can’t even remember what he ordered. All he can remember is how quiet you were on the ride home.

Not angry quiet or visibly sulking. But he could tell you were tired, and guilt had wrapped its tendrils around him immediately.

He kissed you in the elevator, arms around your waist, his mouth against your neck. You let him. Even leaned into it.

But when you got inside, you went straight to the bathroom and closed the door.

He waited for ten minutes. Maybe twelve.

By the time you came out, your makeup was off and your eyes were red.

He didn’t ask, and you didn’t say.

That was the problem.

He flicks ash off the edge of the roof and watches it spiral down. It’s strange how light it looks — how effortless. It makes him think of the way you used to pull away from arguments.

You were never one to slam doors or yell. You simply apologised the moment things started escalating, even if was blatantly Jungkook's fault, and he let it be instead of figuring things out properly.

He regrets that now. He regrets a lot of things now.

The shift didn’t happen all at once, though he knows it started that day. It crept in as missed dinners and late replies. As days where he chose the studio over your anniversary and thought you’d understand, because you always had before.

You always understood.

And maybe that’s why he took you for granted.

He came home to cold food on the stove and your side of the bed already turned down. You never stopped waiting — you just stopped expecting. There’s a difference that he didn't notice it until long after it mattered.

One night, you left a note on the fridge.

i can’t keep doing this, kook

He didn’t read it right away. He found it after a long session, around three in the morning, and he stared at it under the dim light of the kitchen, heart thudding somewhere in his throat.

He didn’t text you. Didn’t call.

Instead, he showered — he still remembers crying as water ran over his head, finally knowing what it felt like to have your whole world crumble in on you — and got into bed, telling himself he’d talk to you tomorrow.

He didn't.

You didn’t come home.

The next morning, your keys were still on the hook.

Jungkook remembers staring at them for the longest time, because they felt like a puzzle missing half the pieces. It didn't make sense.

You didn’t come back, but you didn’t take them either.

A part of him thought, maybe you just needed air. Maybe you'd come back after work, and he'd make dinner that night, say the right thing, and this wouldn't turn into something bigger than it had to be.

But, he stayed late at the studio that night again. Half by accident, half on purpose. There was something safer about being there — surrounded by sound, by people who didn’t ask how he’s really doing. He could hide behind headphones and half-written lyrics and not think too hard.

When he got home, it was almost midnight. Your shoes weren't by the door.

Everything looked more or less the same, but it felt different. The towel you always used was missing from the rack. The shampoo he teased you for hoarding was still lined up on the shelf, but the scent of it had already started fading.

He didn't sleep much that night. Just lied on his back, staring at the ceiling. He kept his phone in his hand, checking it every minute even when he knew there weren't any new notifications.

At some point, around three or four, he started drafting a text.

Kook: Are you okay? Kook: Can we talk? Kook: I’m sorry. Please come home.

He deleted them all.

Not because he didn't mean it, but because none of it felt like enough. For the first time, he wasn't sure you’d answer.

Two days later, you met him at that café on your street.

It was cold that day. Not winter cold, but chilly enough that the wind creeps in through the fabric of your clothes and settles in your bones. You were already there when he arrived, hands wrapped around a paper cup, half-empty. You didn’t look up right away.

He stood there for a second, unsure if he should sit. Unsure if he deserved to.

“Hey,” he said, voice soft, like it might set you off. Like he’s afraid of breaking what little is left between you.

“Hey.” Yours was quieter.

He settled across from you. No hug or reaching for your hand. There was a time he wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but in that moment, even breathing felt like a misstep.

You didn't draw it out or ask him to explain. You’d waited enough. Months of waiting, actually. For late texts and last-minute cancellations. For him to show up and just be there.

“I’m not doing this anymore,” you said, eyes on the table. “I can’t, Kook. I’m tired of feeling like I’m always the one holding on.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but there was nothing in him that could make it better. Nothing he could say that wasn't too late.

“I know,” is all he managed.

Because he did know. You didn’t have to list every dinner he missed, or every birthday you spent alone. He remembered. Maybe not in the moment, but all of it caught up to him as he sat in front of you in that fucking café.

“What happened to us?” he asked, even though he didn’t deserve the answer.

It took a few seconds for you to respond.

“You forgot to show up. Over and over again. Until I stopped expecting you to.”

You said it so gently, Jungkook was sure it would've hurt less if you had just screamed at him.

He nodded, eyes settling on the table as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

He was chasing everything — albums, rehearsals, deadlines. You asked for space in a way that didn’t even sound like asking. You were never demanding. Never loud about what you needed. You just waited.

And waited.

Until you couldn’t anymore.

“I kept thinking you’d notice,” you said, looking out the window now. “That one day you’d come home and just see it. See me.”

“I saw you,” he said, almost a whisper.

You turned back to him then, sad eyes finally meeting his.

“No, Jungkook. You didn’t.”

With that, you stood slowly, wrapping your coat tighter. The chair scraped quietly against the floor. For a second, he thought you might hug him. Say something else. Give him something to hold onto.

But you just said, “Take care of yourself, okay?”

And with a soft click of the café door closing behind you, you were gone.

The cigarette burns out between his fingers.

He doesn’t even notice it’s finished. Just sits there, letting the filter smolder until it singes his skin. He drops it. Rubs at the mark with his thumb, but the sting stays.

Jungkook digs his phone out of his hoodie pocket.

He stares at the screen like it might stop him. Like the weight of it might snap him out of this, but it doesn’t.

He scrolls past unread messages and missed calls from two days ago. Past people who wouldn’t understand, until he finally stops on a familiar name.

Jimin-ssi.

He hits call.

“Hey,” Jimin answers, his voice groggy. Jungkook can hear the faint sound of his sheets rustling and a fan humming in the background.

He doesn’t say anything at first. He simply lets the sound of someone on the other end calm the shake in his fingers.

When he does eventually speak, his voice is hoarse. “Hyung…”

A pause. Then Jimin, sounding more alert now, “Yeah?”

“Should I call her?”

The words come out before he can organise them.

“I mean— not like, call call. I don’t know. Maybe just text.” He exhales, the cold catching in his throat. “Just to say sorry. Or that I’ve been thinking about her. Or— fuck, I don’t know.”

Another pause. Jimin doesn’t interrupt.

“I’m kind of drunk,” Jungkook adds. “Not wasted, but enough that if I regret it tomorrow, I can just blame it on that, you know?”

He’s rambling. He knows he’s rambling.

“But I mean it. That’s the thing. I really mean it. I just— I keep thinking about all the shit I didn’t say and didn’t do. And it’s been two years, hyung. Two fucking years and I still remember her birthday before I remember to pay my fucking water bill.”

Jimin sighs gently through the speaker.

“I just wanna tell her I’m sorry. And that I hope she’s okay. And that if she ever wondered whether I cared, I did. I do. I would— I would never treat her like that again.”

His voice cracks, barely audible now. “And I hope she’s happy. Because if anyone deserves that... it’s her.”

The line goes quiet.

Jungkook stares out at the rooftops across the street. A neon sign flickers off and on, the “O” in MOTEL stuttering.

“Kook,” Jimin finally says softly. “Look— if you need to text her, I’m not gonna stop you.”

He pauses.

“But she’s doing good now. She’s happy. She’s where she’s supposed to be. She’s already moved on.”

Jungkook doesn’t move.

Doesn’t blink, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t speak.

He sits there, phone still warm in his hand, the words looping in his mind endlessly.

She’s already moved on.

He lets out a breath through his nose.

The realisation doesn’t come with a dramatic crash. It's more of a quiet collapse. Something folding inward, something final. He’d told himself he knew, had even said it out loud once or twice, but some part of him was always holding onto the idea that maybe, in some small, fragile way, you were holding onto him too.

Now he sees it for what it really is — hope clinging to memory, not reality. He’s been carrying the weight of a door that’s been closed for years, waiting for a knock that was never coming.

He feels stupid for taking so long to finally understand.

“I figured,” he says eventually. Voice flat, but not bitter. He’s not mad. Not at Jimin. Not at you.

Not even at himself, really.

He’s spent enough nights picking apart the past like there’s still something to salvage from it. Enough early mornings staring at the ceiling, playing conversations that never happened, apologies he never gave. None of it changes where you are now.

Where he is now.

He tucks the phone under his chin and leans forward, elbows on his knees. The wind tugs at the frayed edge of his hoodie sleeve again. He watches it flutter, then still. Then flutter again.

“I think part of me just wanted to hear someone say it,” he says, more to himself than to Jimin. “Like I knew. Of course I knew. But it’s different when someone else confirms it. Makes it real.” He lets out a dry chuckle.

“You still there?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Jimin says. “Still here.”

“Cool.” He nods, swallowing. “I don’t think I’m gonna text her.”

“Okay.”

“I wanted to.” He presses his thumb into his palm like he can ground himself with the pressure. “I really fucking wanted to. But I think I’d just be doing it for me. Not for her.”

The words taste like something between clarity and defeat.

“I don’t wanna drag her back into my mess just because I’m feeling sorry for myself on a rooftop with a shitty beer.”

“You’re not a mess,” Jimin says.

Jungkook gives a humourless laugh. “I’m not exactly a blueprint for stability either.”

There’s quiet on the other end again.

Jungkook looks back out across the city. Nothing has changed. Same cracked skyline. Same humming traffic four stories below. But for the first time in two years, something in his chest has settled.

“Thanks for picking up, hyung,” he says.

“Always,” Jimin says. “Get some rest, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He ends the call.

The moment the call disconnects, the silence comes back colder. He doesn’t notice it until it presses into the sides of his head, dull and dense.

He sets the phone down beside him on the rooftop, screen down this time.

His shoulders curl in.

For a few minutes, he just sits there — body folded, arms hugging his knees like he’s trying to take up less space in a world that’s already decided it doesn’t have room for him in yours.

She’s already moved on.

He closes his eyes. The words feel different now. They’re not just a sentence anymore. They have mass. A shape. They carve themselves out between his ribs and make room where hope used to sit.

It’s not the fact that you’re happy. He wants that for you. Truly, he does.

It’s the fact that you’re happy without him. That your life keeps going when his stays stuck in that final moment — your coat, your chair scraping, the soft click of the café door as you left.

You didn’t look back that day. Not once.

A car horn echoes in the distance. Laughter from the street below follows it.

His mouth feels dry. He reaches for the beer can behind him, only to realise it has tipped over, the last of it soaking into the rooftop gravel.

Just his luck.

He sits back, arms stretched behind him for support, fingers gripping the edge like it might keep him grounded. He doesn’t trust himself to stand.

Because the truth is that he’s not okay.

And hearing that you are — somewhere out there, maybe in a new apartment, maybe with someone who remembers the little things without needing to be reminded — feels like the world has moved on without telling him.

He thinks about what you might be doing right now. Asleep, probably. Or on the phone with someone who asks about your day and actually listens. Maybe you’ve already forgotten what his voice sounds like.

He kind of hopes you have.

Because if you still remember him, it would hurt even more to know you don’t want to come back.

He stays there until the rooftop turns dim with early morning, that bleak hour where the city looks washed out and unreal.

His fingers have gone numb. Not from the wind, but from stillness and the weight of everything he hasn’t let himself feel until tonight.

He’s no longer part of your story. Your name still lives in his mouth while his has long since left yours. You get to outgrow the version of yourself he broke, and he has to live with the one he ruined. You stopped looking for him in crowded rooms a long time ago.

And fuck, does admitting it to himself hurt.

The city below starts waking. Lights blinking on in apartment windows, buses sighing at curbs, a dog barking somewhere far off.

Eventually, he gets to his feet a little stiffly. Every part of him feels heavier now, like his body has caught up to the grief he kept stuffing down all this time.

His phone buzzes once in his pocket. He doesn’t check it.

There’s no one he wants to hear from. No one who can say anything that will make it feel less like loss and more like something survivable.

He looks out across the rooftops one last time, taking in the rising sun before forcing his gaze away.

He makes his way to the stairwell door, pushes it open, and disappears into the hollow echo of a building that has seen too many goodbyes.

The rooftop behind him stays quiet; the wind doesn’t carry his name.

And he walks back down into a life he can’t undo, carrying a love that will never come home.

⌗ masterlist. ⌗ taglist.

[startaegi]

don’t say you love me update coming by the end of the week, namgyu this episode has been SO hard to write 🫩

[startaegi]

thank you so so much!! i’m so happy you’re enjoying my writing enough to recommend it 🥹🤍

Could I possibly know if you have a favorite Hyun-Jung x reader ORR nam-gyu x reader ?? I need something to ease my pain until the starry night comes out 😔 -Junhee🍓

omg i ABsolutely do!!!

hyunju

breaching protocol by fantom_of_the_fiction on ao3 is LIFECHANGING !!!! they're all aus where hyunju is a sergeant and you're a private, but within that there's a multipart one called Good Little Soldier that was completed recently and it's the hottest thing I've EVER READ IN MY LIFEEEEEEE if it was socially acceptable I'd talk about it nonstop irl

for something with a little more softness, a chance encounter is superb!! when i first started reading it, i thought it was an au, but then a chapter came out where they enter the games and AH we love a fic where the reader and mc knew each other before the games it's so delicious

let me see what spring is like on jupiter and mars for your compulsory coffee-shop au! nothing i love more than seeing writers envision how the characters would interact outside the games and i LOVE the dynamic here

tightrope was only started a few days ago so it's still in its infancy but i love an ongoing story (i'd be a hypocrite otherwise lmao) but so far OOH it's damn good, another case where the reader knows a character before the games but this time she's sangwoo's sister!! are we KIDDING how original is that!!!! there are literally two emails in my inbox rn of the 3rd and 4th chapters that i'm gonna read shortly

ok so you know those tiktok edits where they show a brief split second of a smut screenshot? bunny kisses by @sillylilsquid is one such fanfic and i literally went feral trying to pause in the right spot, major shoutout to the person in the comments who linked it because this is confident soft dom hyunju to the MAXXXXX

in reading this post you are LEGALLY OBLIGED to read everything @meadowfics has written starting with this angst-fluff masterpiece of a series, blooming flower. reader is in a relationship with youngmi when the two enter the games and that is all i'll say so you can go enjoy it for yourself 0.0

namgyu

if you're feeling freaky and want a bit of thanos loving sprinkled in too, love me dead! is one i've read like four times over, it just has such a particular energy to it and UGH je ne sais quoi it's just so good the drama is peak, the games are written in such a thrilling way

not a specific fic but anything and everything by @arbitrarykiwi is unbelievably peak, i keep their mlist permanently in my likes like old people keep money in their mattress

....ok yes there is a specific fic by kiwi and it's needa fix NEEDAFIXNEEDAFIXNEEDAFIX I'M GETTING YOU TATTOOED BEHIND MY EYELIDS needy!gyu and drug dealer!reader HELLO???

i usually avoid angst like the plague but don't say you love me is BRINGING the hits, it's in the games where you and namgyu are separated but have a young daughter together and URGH it's amazing and also ongoing!! honey my show's on i KEEP @startaegi on notifs

mea from meadowfics is back again and this time, it's personal! twenty-four seven is such a fantastic two-parter where reader works at a 24/7 coffeeshop around the corner from club pentagon, namgyu is so soft in this one yet doesn't feel ooc at all it's momentous

thank you so much for this ask!! recs are my fav (i'm sure i'm forgetting some), pleaaaase send in any if you have them too!! give these writers some love because they are all amazing <3 hyunju's starry night is around 5.3k long so far so i think i'm on schedule for having it done within the fortnight

[startaegi]

00. the painter and the princess / I SAW YOU IN A DREAM.

summary. in a world once ruled by gods and goddesses, a princess and a painter are executed by the king for their forbidden love affair. centuries later, two rival historians are set with the task to find the origin of an unnamed painting, unaware that the story they're chasing is their own.

warnings & tropes. reincarnation. royalty. forbidden romance. fantasy world, no set time periods. bts au. mmc and reader death in the past timeline. descriptions of violence and injuries. rivals to lovers, forced proximity, found family. smut (mdni!!!). duo timeline.

pairing. painter!yoongi x princess!femreader & historian!yoongi x historian!femreader.

the bedchamber is empty.

a girl walks the cobbled streets with her head down, cloak drawn across her face to hide her identity. her royal guard follows closely behind, out of sight and just as much in the shadows. for the past year, he has watched over her in secret, found the hidden exit she shouldn't be using, never once letting her walk alone in the late hours before dawn.

she rushes through the empty market, the vendors stalls bare but awaiting the morning crowd and heads straight to the small building tucked in the corner. a lantern flickers inside. she watches the boy's silhouette move past the window before he opens the door and invites her inside. his hands are stained with paint and charcoal as they usually are. he smiles, closing the door behind him, his eyes soft.

what the crown princess doesn't know is that her guard is not the only one to follow her tonight. the king's soldiers are two steps behind, watching her every move to report back. and soon, the painter and the princess will not meet again, not until another life, centuries later, when the world has forgotten their names. and they must be the ones to remember.

next chapter. masterlist. wattpad.

notes. i’m so so so excited to start this, i’ve had the idea for forever 😭 chapters might be a little slow as they’re gonna be longggg (10 chapters but a lot of writing lol)

taglist. @marblemoonstones , let me know if you wanna be added!!

[startaegi]

I SAW YOU IN A DREAM. min yoongi.

pairing. painter!yoongi x princess!femreader & historian!yoongi x historian!femreader.

tropes & warnings. reincarnation. royalty. forbidden romance. fantasy world, no set time periods. bts au. mmc and reader death in the past timeline. descriptions of violence and injuries. rivals to lovers, forced proximity, found family. smut (mdni!!!). duo timeline.

in which two historians find themselves lost to history or in a world once ruled by gods and goddesses, a princess and a painter are executed by the king for their forbidden love affair. centuries later, two rival historians are set with the task to find the origin of an unnamed painting, unaware that the story they're chasing is their own.

00. THE PAINTER AND THE PRINCESS — you don’t realise you’re not as secretive as you think you are. ❪ wc. 51 ❫ .

02. TITLE — coming soon.

03. TITLE — coming soon.

04. TITLE — coming soon.

05. TITLE — coming soon.

06. TITLE — coming soon.

07. TITLE — coming soon.

08. TITLE — coming soon.

09. TITLE — coming soon.

10. TITLE — coming soon.

masterlist. wattpad. letterbox.

taglist is open for all future chapters, just let me know if u wanna be added!!

[startaegi]

hello! i saw that u tagged me in a post titled 'i saw you in a dream' but i went to go look for it to read and i couldn't find it! i just want to make sure that i'm not going crazy lol and that the post does exist? if u took it down, no worries! but i wanna make sure i'm getting the posts!! <33

hii omgg you’re not going crazy, i ended up deleting it until i have more written!! im sorry for confusing u 😭

[startaegi]

00. the painter and the princess / I SAW YOU IN A DREAM.

summary. in a world once ruled by gods and goddesses, a princess and a painter are executed by the king for their forbidden love affair. centuries later, two rival historians are set with the task to find the origin of an unnamed painting, unaware that the story they're chasing is their own.

warnings & tropes. reincarnation. royalty. forbidden romance. fantasy world, no set time periods. bts au. mmc and reader death in the past timeline. descriptions of violence and injuries. rivals to lovers, forced proximity, found family. smut (mdni!!!). duo timeline.

pairing. painter!yoongi x princess!femreader & historian!yoongi x historian!femreader.

the bedchamber is empty.

a girl walks the cobbled streets with her head down, cloak drawn across her face to hide her identity. her royal guard follows closely behind, out of sight and just as much in the shadows. for the past year, he has watched over her in secret, found the hidden exit she shouldn't be using, never once letting her walk alone in the late hours before dawn.

she rushes through the empty market, the vendors stalls bare but awaiting the morning crowd and heads straight to the small building tucked in the corner. a lantern flickers inside. she watches the boy's silhouette move past the window before he opens the door and invites her inside. his hands are stained with paint and charcoal as they usually are. he smiles, closing the door behind him, his eyes soft.

what the crown princess doesn't know is that her guard is not the only one to follow her tonight. the king's soldiers are two steps behind, watching her every move to report back. and soon, the painter and the princess will not meet again, not until another life, centuries later, when the world has forgotten their names. and they must be the ones to remember.

next chapter. masterlist. wattpad.

notes. i’m so so so excited to start this, i’ve had the idea for forever 😭 chapters might be a little slow as they’re gonna be longggg (10 chapters but a lot of writing lol)

taglist. @marblemoonstones @ggukivrse , let me know if you wanna be added!!

[startaegi]

I SAW YOU IN A DREAM. min yoongi.

pairing. painter!yoongi x princess!femreader & historian!yoongi x historian!femreader.

tropes & warnings. reincarnation. royalty. forbidden romance. fantasy world, no set time periods. bts au. mmc and reader death in the past timeline. descriptions of violence and injuries. rivals to lovers, forced proximity, found family. smut (mdni!!!). duo timeline.

in which two historians find themselves lost to history or in a world once ruled by gods and goddesses, a princess and a painter are executed by the king for their forbidden love affair. centuries later, two rival historians are set with the task to find the origin of an unnamed painting, unaware that the story they're chasing is their own.

00. THE PAINTER AND THE PRINCESS — you don’t realise you’re not as secretive as you think you are. ❪ wc. 51 ❫ .

01. TITLE — coming soon.

02. TITLE — coming soon.

03. TITLE — coming soon.

04. TITLE — coming soon.

05. TITLE — coming soon.

06. TITLE — coming soon.

07. TITLE — coming soon.

08. TITLE — coming soon.

09. TITLE — coming soon.

10. TITLE — coming soon.

masterlist. wattpad. letterbox.

taglist is open for all future chapters, just let me know if u wanna be added!!

[startaegi]

devastating.... he is just SO CUTE

[startaegi]

hey love! i think your nobody else series is so cute and i've enjoyed reading it so far! could i be added to the taglist for it (and any other bts works you do in the future)? thank you! hope u have a good day/night <33

this is so sweet, i’m so happy you’re enjoying so far 🥹 tysm!! ofc, i’ve added you 🤍

[startaegi]

005. lost in the crowd / DON’T SAY YOU LOVE ME.

summary. where you and namgyu on brink of seperation find yourselves in way of death all to give your daughter a better life.

warnings & tropes. parents namgyu and reader. lovers to enemies to lovers (?), angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending. abusive parents, toxic relationships, potential smut. usual squid game stuff, violence, death, suicide, blood, weapons etc.

pairing. nightclub worker!namgyu x ballet dancer!femreader

you stand alone.

the circle beneath your feet moves in an uneasy rhythm. the music through the speakers is daunting. a childs nursery rhyme that shouldn't feel so eerie, but here, surrounded by fear, it makes your skin crawl. you’re pressed between bodies on both sides. feel them shaking, their body heat seeping through their zippers onto you. their breaths are sharp and uneven, each person expecting the worst, impatiently waiting to meet death.

you frantically search the crowd for a familiar face, head spinning as much as the circle at your feet. hyunju had been at your side when the doors opened, your arms once linked until the pushing began, and you were eventually separated. you had tried to find her again, weaving through the bodies with no luck. you hadn't seen namgyu since the night before, and myunggi was also lost in the circus. no one you knew were here to protect you.

the circle spins faster and then abruptly stops, knocking you into the player beside you.

"ten" the woman on the speaker announces.

the lights flash manically, blinding you as you scan the crowd again for anyone you recognise. you trip over your own feet, stumbling over the legs of other players who are also desperately searching. screams erupt, the panic is terrorising. you swear you’ve never felt fear so strongly.

you step back, hands shaking. you have the urge to hide, to cover your ears and somehow escape. no one calls out for you. your breaths become uneven as you reach out to steady yourself. you’re going to die. it's the only thought in your head.

a hand breaks through the chaos, grabbing your arm and pulling you forward. your feet struggle to keep up, racing through the room toward an open door. the unknown player pushes you in, slamming the door behind you.

you double over in an attempt to catch your breath. the fear is still overpowering, but there's a flicker of relief knowing you’re safe behind the now-closed door. you feel eyes on you and look up to find the person who saved you staring back. their hand is still on your arm, clutching tightly with a shaky grip. it's the same player, 246, the one who was on your team during six legs. the only one, besides myunggi, who showed you any kindness.

you try to smile, to show gratitude, but the gunshots outside stop you. eyes wide, you stare back, frozen. 246 loosens his grip but doesn't let go completely, staying by your side in silent comfort. the gunshots ring out, and the room falls into an eerie silence, somehow more frightening than the music. the doors click open, welcoming the players back into the arena.

you try to ignore the blood coating the floors, attempt to keep it from touching your shoes but fail.

you look up at the unknown man, a tight smile on your face. "thank you," you say, bowing.

he brushes you off as you both take your place on the spinning circle. you stumble as it starts, again knocking into the player beside you. you search the crowd knowing exactly who you’re looking for, their panicked expressions burn into your brain, their faces blurring together.

and then you see him. namgyu, also staring back at you. he's standing beside the one you now know as thanos. the memory had come back to you in the late hours of the night before—his skilful rapping in the underground nightclub, the many drinks you’d served him, and namgyu's obsession with his music.

namgyu looks at you, his expression unreadable, as if he's trying to fight off the emotions bubbling inside him. his eyes flicker over you and then away. he lets out a breath and wrings his hands. you want to reach out to him for the first time since you arrived in this unknown place. you need his quiet comfort, just something to tell you that everything is going to be okay.

the game continues, each number more complicated than the last. you stay close to the kind player. you don't talk, but an unspoken pact passes between you. we'll stick together. after each round, you search for namgyu and myunggi, a wave of relief crashing over you every time you see them still breathing. sometimes you catch namgyu’s eyes, and sometimes myunggi attempts to reach you, but neither ever makes it far.

you’d finally found hyunju again, saving her and another younger girl's life in the process. now, your team larger than when the game began, you all stand together as the floor once again begins to spin beneath you.

"seven," the woman announces.

it's chaos, each player in your group glancing between themselves. too many of them to fit in one room.

player 456 speaks up first. "five women and two men, go!"

you glance at 246, unwilling to leave him until he nods.

"go, i’ll be okay! i'll see you after this game," he says with a confident smile, taking off in the opposite direction with the other men.

you have no choice but to run with the rest, crashing into panicked players as you scramble toward an empty room. the flashing lights blind you, your breathing ragged as you push yourself to keep up. you don’t turn back, throwing yourself into the room and into safety.

you hear hyunju call out for the young girl, looking up from your bloodied shoes just in time to see myunggi slam the door behind him.

you watch in horror. myunggi turns facing each person in the room, an exhausted but calm expression on his face. the girls pleading eyes peer through the gap on the doorway. you can't look, can't watch as the guards take her life so effortlessly. hyunju screams out, attempting to open the door as the echo of a gunshot ricochets through the air. you hear her body hit the floor with a thud. you feels the tears pool in your eyes as hyunju screams for the girl, youngmi.

hyunju turns from the door, gripping myunggi by the collar and shoving him against the wall. "it's your fault," she yells.

myunggi stares back at her, tone bitter and cold. "don't kid yourself," he spits. "if i hadn't come in, you'd be dead too."

"It's your fault! i could've saved her!" hyunju screams at him, voice cracking.

myunggi shouts back, just as angry, "there was no time!"

you watch in disbelief. this wasn’t your brother staring back at you. the boy you were raised with, who raised you, would never have a hand in ending someone’s life and then act so nonchalantly afterwards. your mind plays the sound of youngmi’s lifeless body hitting the ground, the noise the bullet made as it exited the gun and found her. you felt sick with disgust and sadness.

the woman on the speaker welcomes you back into the room. each player walks to the centre quietly, scanning the bloodied floors and walls. you try to remain calm, you have a team now, you’re not alone but it's difficult. the next round you could be like youngmi.

"now, the final round will begin"

the circle spins. no one speaks, awaiting the last number. the room darkens, the music stops and the circle halts.

"two"

you stood still. everyone is already teaming off with another which leaves three. you, hyunju and your new friend, gyeongseok. you look between each other in a panic, someone has to get left behind. you lift a foot to step back when a hand grabs your zipper pulling you forward. it's namgyu, his grip strong and familiar.

you twist and turn, navigating through rushed and fearful players towards an empty room. there's only so few left and still many players looking for a team. namgyu throws open the door, pulling you inside in a hurry just as the lights stop flashing and the game is over. there's silence until again gunshots cut through it, you lean against the wall breathing heavy as namgyu does the same.

you stare at each other with wide eyes, gulping down air in attempt to breathe. namgyu presses the palms of his hands into his eyes, shaking his head with a groan. he looks up, eyes soft when they land on you. he hesitates but then holds out his shaking hand, you don’t think twice before sliding yours into his feeling the instant comfort from his touch.

he finally speaks up, "you're safe.”

you step out of the room and back into the arena, still side by side but no longer hand in hand. it doesn't take long before you’re ushered through the confusing staircases and back into the common room. it's not as quiet as you would've expected, not after everything you just witnessed and almost experienced.

namgyu takes off toward thanos, who's deep in conversation with player 125, leaving you standing alone. you glance around and notice that everyone you’re friendly with is already engaged in hushed, tense conversations. their discomfort stops you from approaching.

a moment later, you spot the girl myunggi seemed to know. she's sitting alone near a bunk, her head resting between her bent knees. you hesitate, then slowly make your way over and quietly take the seat beside her.

"hi," you say, breaking the silence.

the girl looks up, startled by your appearance. she pauses before replying, "hi."

"you've been looking at him since we got here," you say, your eyes flickering toward your older brother. he's sitting alone, staring back at you both. "do you know him?"

the girl doesn't answer right away. a flicker of sadness passes over her face before she finally nods. "yeah. we were together."

it makes sense, the way they looked at each other earlier. their eyes held too much history. quite like you and namgyu.

"you aren't anymore?" you ask gently.

the girl looks down at her stomach, then back at you. "i'm pregnant," she says quietly. "he didn't want to be involved."

your breath catches in your throat, blood rushing. you look at myunggi across the room, who's still watching you. it scares you, to know the years have changed him, to realise the brother you loved and missed so dearly is no longer the boy you once knew. how could he abandon his unborn child? that would never have been in his nature before.

before you can reply, player 222 speaks up again. "do you know him?"

"he's my older brother."

the girl looks at you, startled. "he never mentioned he had a sister."

you smile sadly, pretending it doesn't hurt as much as it does. "that doesn't surprise me now," you laugh lightly. "he wasn't always like that."

the girl nods. "i know," she says softly. "that's what makes it hurt more."

both of you sit side by side in silence, each lost in your own memories of the boy across the room. around them, the world continues, players talk quietly among themselves, trying to make sense of the situation, while you sit still, sharing your grief.

"i'm junhee," the girl says, cutting through the silence.

you smile, genuinely this time, grateful to meet someone who understands your pain and introduce yourself.

the vote comes again hours later. your answer, of course, doesn't change. you press the red button without hesitation, while namgyu presses blue, unable to look back at you as he does. since you arrived, you’d hardly spoken more than a few words, only brief glances and sharp sentences exchanged between you.

later that night, the mood is slightly more lively. everyone sits in groups, talking to the friends they've made or people they may have already known. you choose to sit alone. you can't bring yourself to make conversation with anyone. you’re truly exhausted, physically and emotionally. all you want is to get home to hanuel, wrap her in your arms, and never let go.

the tinfoil is unwrapped in front of you, the gimbap staring up. you know you have to eat, to preserve what little strength you have left for the next game, but you have no appetite.

you’re picking at your food when a player approaches. 001 is stitched into the green of his zipper. he smiles down at you, then leans over and speaks quietly.

"you should hide somewhere tonight."

you blink up at him in confusion. "why?"

he opens his mouth, then closes it again. "just trust me. find somewhere safe and stay there until the lights come on."

he doesn't wait for your reply, walking off toward a group you’ve seen him with before, junhee and gyeongseok among them. you don’t know what to think. but the last time someone gave you a warning, it turned out to be true. so you don’t take his words lightly.

you force down the rest of your food, unaware that the two people you love most aren't in the room. you don’t hear the shouts or screams coming from the men's bathroom just outside. don’t question why a fork would be included with your meal. don’t know that when myunggi walks back through those doors, you’ll never look at him the same way again.

previous next masterlist wattpad playlist

❪ notes ❫ . i struggled so much with this omfg, it feels so rushed but it’s the best i can do 🫠

❪ taglist ❫ . @sollum @meadowfics @nuttybeans @namgyucat @uponmyheart @citarnosis @elmaa127 @luclue @marihoneywk @szkla-nka @lunaryoongie @danart501 if you wanna be added to the taglist for all future chapters let me know!

[startaegi]

004. unconditional love / DON’T SAY YOU LOVE ME.

summary. where you and namgyu on brink of seperation find yourselves in way of death all to give your daughter a better life.

warnings & tropes. parents namgyu and reader. lovers to enemies to lovers (?), angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending. abusive parents, toxic relationships, potential smut. usual squid game stuff, violence, death, suicide, blood, weapons etc.

pairing. nightclub worker!namgyu x ballet dancer!femreader

your hands trembled in your lap, nails digging into your palms. time seemed to slow, the minutes feeling like hours. your chest felt tight, like you hadn't taken a breath since the games began. you could barely hear the world around you, the chatter so far in the distance. all you could think of was namgyu’s lifeless body in the room above you.

myunggi smiled in your direction but it didn't reach his eyes, a panicked matching expression on his face, as if he was also waiting someone to walk through the doors. you turned your direction back to the unopened doorway. you weren’t a religious person. you didn't believe in a higher being or the place in the sky you went to after death — yet you found yourself praying, begging whatever god might be listening to spare him. to not leave hanuel without a father. to not have her grow up the way you did.

you had only felt a panic so similar once in your life. it was late summer, the leaves slowly growing ready to fall in the next few weeks, the air turning colder. you were a college student juggling two jobs and a whole lot of debt when the test turned positive. you stared at it for so long your eyes no longer saw the lines. your trembling hands clutched it between your palms, the walls of the small bathroom closing in on you. you couldn't hear anything but the pounding in your chest. the same sense of anxiety you were feeling now. scared of the future, of the unknown.

when you told namgyu, he reacted how you expected.

"you can, you know—" he paused, unsure if he should continue. “get rid of it."

you didn't reply, didn't know how. of course a part of you had thought of it too. you weren’t ready to be a mother, not then. but as the weeks passed, you found yourself growing strangely protective of the small life growing inside you. in the end, despite the uncertainty, namgyu agreed it was your decision and so you kept it.

in the quiet hours of the night, the moon cascaded through your bedroom window. you lay with your head resting against his chest, his hands brushing gently through your hair. the silence was peaceful, the soft patter of rain hitting against the windowpanes.

namgyu breathed, and you felt his heart race under your cheek. "i'm scared," he said honestly.

his hands stopped, resting against your scalp as you turned to look at him. you didn't say anything, only gave him an encouraging look to continue.

"i don't want to become like him," he whispered into the darkness. "what if it's some fucked up genetic thing he passed down?"

you caressed his face, smiling softly. "you don't have it in you."

and yes, the anxiety stayed. the fear of not being good enough never left. but the unconditional love? that was something else.

the doors opening pull you back into the present. namgyu enters first, blood coating the soles of his white shoes, and you feel yourself let out a sigh of relief. his eyes scan the room, instantly landing on you, and in the same breath, he also exhales. you don't speak, don't move to embrace each other, only the lingering silence of knowing passes between you.

later in the evening while you speak with player 120, who you now know as hyunju and a few other players you’re beginning to know, you spot namgyu with the same group of people from the six leg game. he looks relaxed, too relaxed for someone who anticipated death mere moments before, he's smiling with the purple haired player but his eyes, you recognise them. they're wide, blown and staring. his smile is too big, the same kind he gets when the high is only beginning.

you can't stand to look at him any longer.

the announcement comes soon after, when everyone is less tense and more tired. the red-masked guards enter the room, guns strapped to their chests. it's silent when the center one speaks up.

"congratulations to all of you for making it through the second game." they pause, lifting a hand that holds a small remote. "here are the results of the second game."

the room darkens. the giant piggy bank attached to the ceiling hangs lower as the numbers on the screen begin to climb. everyone stands up in curiosity, you included, stepping closer to get a better look. endless amounts of korean won fall into the glass bowl, taunting and tempting each player in the room. so close to touch and yet so far.

"in the second game, 110 players were eliminated."

your stomach turns at the guard's words. one hundred and ten humans, cruelly taken from the world.

"the prize money accumulated up to this point is 20.1 billion won. since there are 255 players remaining, each person's share is 78,823,530."

you don’t listen as the room erupts around you. you don’t care how much money is left to win or how much you’ve already earned. you’re leaving either way. you can't stand to be in the games for another second. you’ll find another job, take on extra hours at the hotel. there's no way you’re risking your life again.

starting from player 001, each of them steps up to vote. a stand with two buttons, x or o, is placed at the end of the room. when your number is called, you don’t hesitate. you step up and hit the red x.

the moment you press the button, the sound rings in your ears, sharp and loud. a ding so familiar. like the sound of a hospital monitor.

the monitor beeped a steady rhythm, tracking your pulse and heart rate. you were exhausted. the pain, although now not as bad, still lingered. the room felt still, so, so quiet compared to the hours before when the tiny human you birthed entered the world, kicking and screaming.

in front of you, namgyu sat in an uncomfortable hospital chair. his eyes were tired but glassy as he watched the baby girl in his arms sleep. he held her like she was glass, like one wrong move and she'd shatter apart. his fingers grazed softly against her pink cheek, looking down at her like she was the only thing in the world.

his gaze lifted to you. carefully, he moved from the chair and sat on the edge of the bed, positioning himself so hanuel was visible to you both. "thank you," he said, voice thick with tears. he looked down at the baby in his arms, then back at you. "thank you."

the memory dissipates as namgyu steps up to the podium to cast his vote. you hold your breath, every movement unfolding in slow motion as he lifts his hand and presses the button. o. your heart drops.

he turns to watch as player 125 takes his turn. there's nothing on his face that hints at regret, only determination and desperation. when his eyes finally find yours in the crowd, there's no sympathetic smile, no apology. it hits you like whiplash. the namgyu who once held his daughter like she was something fragile, the namgyu who loved you so fiercely nothing could break it, didn't look back.

you didn't know what scared you more. the games themselves, or how they were changing the man you loved.

the same night, namgyu approached your bunk, his dark eyes more hollow than usual, his shoulders slumped slightly as he leaned against the bed. you stared back, eyes sharp.

"you almost died," he said, almost accusatory. "they could've killed you."

you didn't reply. how could you? he was here talking about death when he had participated in the killing by voting to stay. you turned on your side, facing away from him while he reached out a hand to grab your shoulder.

you shrugged him off, replying, "i’m tired."

his hand lingered near your arm, not touching, but close enough for you to feel its presence. "i can't lose you," he whispered into the quiet air.

"you voted yes, namgyu."

his eyebrows furrowed, as if he didn't understand the language you were speaking. "i’m doing this for us."

you laughed, unamused. "there will be no us left." you paused, scared to say the next words. "they'll kill us."

he scrambled to reach out for you, to comfort you in the only way he knew how, but again you brushed him off, pushing him away from the bed.

"please just go," you said quietly. "i’m tired."

he lingered for a minute longer before finally getting to his feet and leaving. you could feel his gaze on you as he walked but you only shut your eyes, hoping your dreams would take you somewhere nicer.

previous next masterlist wattpad playlist

❪ notes ❫ . a shorter chapter as i wanted to focus more on their past, next chapter will be mingle!! also the warnings have changed on the masterlist as i’ve changed the ending 🫣

❪ taglist ❫ . @sollum @meadowfics @nuttybeans @namgyucat @uponmyheart @citarnosis @elmaa127 @luclue @marihoneywk @szkla-nka @lunaryoongie @danart501 if you wanna be added to the taglist for all future chapters let me know!

[startaegi]

003. six legs / DON’T SAY YOU LOVE ME.

summary. where you and namgyu on brink of seperation find yourselves in way of death all to give your daughter a better life.

warnings & tropes. parents namgyu and reader. lovers to enemies to lovers (?), angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending. abusive parents, toxic relationships, potential smut. usual squid game stuff, violence, death, suicide, blood, weapons etc.

pairing. nightclub worker!namgyu x ballet dancer!femreader

the large hall is filled with the shocked whispers and uneasy glances of the remaining players. the guards hand each one a lunchbox — some rice, meat, and an egg. you can't even look at it, let alone smell it, not with the image of the fallen bodies still burned behind your eyes. the scent of rotting flesh still lingers in the air, clinging to your skin like a bad perfume. you tried to swallow it down, searching for namgyu in the crowd to distract yourself, but the feeling lingers, no matter what you do.

the silver tray shakes slightly in your hands, the rattling sharp against your ears. your stomach twists uncomfortably, unsure if it's disgust, guilt, or something else. the fallen had lives outside too. people who loved them, families probably waiting for them to come home, just like you.

beside you, myunggi sat eating from his lunchbox, seemingly unaffected by everything that just happened. you cast your eyes around the room, most of the other players doing the same, as if pretending everything was normal. you looked back down at your lunch again before pushing it to the side, a lump rising in your throat.

myunggi said something that you don’t catch, lost in your own thoughts. "hm?" you asked, looking up to see his face.

"i said, how do you know him?" he questioned, the hand holding his fork pointing in namgyu’s direction. you followed his line of sight, watching as namgyu animatedly spoke with another player. you vaguely recognised his face — purple hair, painted nails, a voice so loud it booms across the room — but you can't place him.

you hesitated before replying, "he’s my boyfriend."

myunggi snorted in disbelief, shaking his head, until he noticed the serious look on your face. "you’re not joking?"

you only shook your head in response.

"you and him? that addict?" myunggi asked, eyebrows raised.

you didn't have the energy to argue, you were tired of doing it. instead, you replied, fingers nervously picking at a loose thread on your sweatpants, "he’s not always like that," you said quietly, something like longing laced in your voice. "and he's a good father."

myunggi blinked taken aback, tray frozen in his hand. "wait, you have a kid?"

you paused, the thread between your fingers, "i forgot you didn't know" you said sadly. "hanuel, she's four"

there’s silence for a second, not uncomfortable, just like you were both processing everything you’d missed over the years. you wondered for a moment how myunggi had spent those missing years. was he also in a relationship? did he ever continue writing, despite his failed plan in crypto? did he ever think about you? it hurt your heart to think about.

"i’m sorry i wasn't there," he finally said, glancing across the room, eyes focused on a young girl, player 222. his expression unreadable. she didn't look his way.

you didn't notice, still fixated on your lap, and myunggi didn't say anything else, quietly returning to his meal. you let a moment pass before standing up to stretch your legs, trying to shake the tension from your body. the atmosphere in the room was heavy, it made your stomach twist with discomfort.

you couldn't sit still, you would drive yourself crazy being left to your thoughts, imagining every worst-case scenario. just as you began to pace, namgyu and the boy you vaguely recognised approached, cockiness written across their faces.

namgyu set his gaze on you, eyes sharp. "how’d you know him?" he asked, catching hold of your wrist, his tone casual but demanding. when you don’t respond, unsure how, his grip tightened. voice no longer soft, he yanked you towards him. "i asked, how'd you know him?"

you flinched, attempting to pull your wrist free, but his grip was too strong. "let go of me, namgyu," you said through clenched teeth, eyes low in hopes of not catching attention.

like something else was possessing him, he refused. "answer the question," he hissed, pulling you closer. "don’t make me ask again."

before you could answer, myunggi stood up but was quickly pushed back down by 230. "leave her alone," he said through gritted teeth.

the purple-haired boy held him back while namgyu laughed, eyes darting from one sibling to the other.

"how cute," he snickered. "your new boyfriend wants to protect you."

you cast your gaze to the ground, unable to respond. he wouldn't listen, not in his current state.

namgyu continued, "did you know he stole our money? the money we saved for hanuel’s classes."

you wanted to laugh—you should've, just to spite him. he was the one who gambled that money away. he was the one who promised to pay for the expensive ballet classes you knew you couldn't afford. and yet here he was, as always, passing the blame to someone else.

myunggi spoke up defensively. "that crypto ruined my life too," he said, eyes dropping in shame. "that’s why i’m here, to make money."

the pair had basically cornered him into the bunk, player 230 towering over him. "that’s right. you’d better make a lot of money, because of that damn coin, i lost over 500 million won. money i earned busting my ass rapping."

namgyu still had a tight grip on your wrist.

"i lost 300 million," he added from the side.

"you’d better win these games and make a load of money to pay us back."

“i get it. can you go away now? i’m trying to eat—"

namgyu finally loosened his grip, but only to snatch myunggi’s tray from his hands.

you couldn't stand to listen to them any longer. a headache was beginning to pulse behind your eyes from their back-and-forth insults. you tried to pull away, only to be tugged back in again.

you watched as myunggi’s expression twisted with rage. suddenly, he leapt from the bed and tackled the purple-haired boy, hands gripping the collar of his zip-up jacket.

namgyu let you go free with a shove, quick to jump in and help support his new friend, holding myunggi back as the rapper landed blow after blow to his face.

you stumbled while carefully massaging your sore wrist. you heard the chaos as they tumbled around with one another. you wanted to scream, to tell them to stop but it was useless, they were too far gone to listen.

a collective set of gasps pulled your attention back into the room. you looked up from the red skin on your wrist to see player 001 walking toward the center of the room.

"boys, what are you doing in the middle of mealtime?" he questioned. "no fights during meal time. there are elders present, mind your manners."

you wanted to thank the gods for the interference — you had only just gotten your brother back, and you didn't fancy losing him again.

"and two against one?" he asked, pausing in front of them. his gaze turned to you before flickering back to them again. "aren’t you embarrassed?"

namgyu let myunggi drop to the ground, his attention now on 001, as 230 stepped toward the older man. "you’re lecturing me when you ended up in this shithole too? dude, stop running your mouth and take care of your own damn kids."

you moved quickly, rushing to kneel beside your brother's side. you helped him sit up, wincing at the blood and bruises forming around his eye. "you okay?" you whispered through the shouting.

myunggi nodded weakly as namgyu fell to the ground beside you, clutching his leg in pain. you looked up just as 001 knocked 230 to the ground, his fist raised and hand around the younger's neck while 230 pleaded for forgiveness. you watched him tremble, his fist shaking as he hesitated before finally letting go and standing up. the players around you cheered, some calling out their praise. the older man turned, as if searching for someone, and gave you a soft nod of acknowledgment before proudly walking back to his friends.

that same night, you lay awake, staring at the ceiling above you. sleep wouldn't come easy, not with your thoughts going to the worst places. you couldn't stop picturing hanuel, waiting for her parents to come home... if they ever did. what she would wonder for the rest of her life? would she know you did this for her? put yourselves in way of death all to give her a better life? you fought away the tears, shifting on the thin mattress to face myunggi. he was asleep on his side, face somehow worse than it was earlier in the day but he looked peaceful, like you remembered him.

across the room, namgyu slept with his back against the wall, slumped over in your direction. you hadn't spoken to him since the fight, refused to even acknowledge he was there. the years hadn't been kind to him; you had slowly watched him become someone you no longer recognised.

the summer of 2017 was a distant memory, the shared kisses between fleeting drunk customers under the dark lights of the club's hallway, the weekends you spent together in the comfort of your tiny apartment, wasting the days away learning each other's bodies. he was here and yet you still missed him.

you turned back to the ceiling forcing down the lump in your throat. you closed your eyes, the images of the morning burning behind your lids. you thought of hanuel and her soft laughter, of eunwoo and his excruciating jokes only he found funny and of the version of namgyu you once knew. you had to survive, for them.

the next morning, while standing among the other players waiting to be called to the game hall, the air still thick with tension, a woman approached you almost cautiously. she hovered for a moment before speaking up.

"hi," she said softly. "are you okay?"

you knew she was referring to the night before.

you let out an awkward laugh, unsure how to respond. "i’m okay. thank you."

you began walking side by side up the familiar, twisting stairs. player 120 didn't push further, only nodded in quiet understanding.

"i heard some of the guys talking last night. they think the next game is dalgona."

"like the cookies?" you asked, brows furrowed.

she shrugged. "i think so?"

you reached the top of the stairs, the heavy metal doors sliding open to welcome you inside. cheerful kids' music played through the speakers, giant rainbow-colored lanes painted across the sanded floors. as the crowd slowly filled the room, people spread out in all directions. you were quickly swallowed by the mass, losing track of the friendly girl.

you tried to push your way back through, eyes scanning the crowd for a glimpse of dark hair but to no avail.

an announcement came through the speakers, "welcome to your second game, this game will be played in teams. please divide into teams of five in the next ten minutes"

within seconds, you spotted myunggi across the room, speaking intensely with player 222. you hadn't known he was close with anyone else in here, and judging by their body language, they definitely had history.

you didn't stay to find out more, the clock on the wall ticking down. you had to find a group or risk meeting death sooner than you’d like. you wandered further into the crowd, meeting countless uninviting eyes and moving on to the next.

just as you began to give up, myunggi approached. "you’re coming with me," he said, taking your arm gently and guiding you to a group of three men. only one smiled as you came into view, the others scowling in disgust.

"we said bring another guy," one of the older men said.

"she’s going to get us killed," another scoffed.

neither myunggi nor you replied, instead taking your seats on the floor among the other players. you felt namgyu’s eyes on you from across the room, noticed his shaking legs and the way he scratched anxiously at the skin on his arms. his gaze was locked on you, anxiety written all over his face. you imagined yours didn't look much different.

you let your gaze linger for a second longer, heart hammering in your chest. this may be the last time you see each other and you didn't want to look away.

the buzzer sounded, pulling them from their moment and back into reality. your team was called first. you stood in a line, ankles tied together — myunggi at the far end, and player 246 to your left. each player had one minute to play, five in total, before the next could begin and they'd move closer to the finish line. a gunshot bounced off the walls, signaling the start of the game. you didn't have time to think before you took off across the track, chanting one-two as you went.

you snatched up the blue and red ddajki cards, fixed on the coloured squares, attempting to ignore the hundreds of eyes upon you. you threw the blue card to the ground, hitting it in an instant as cheers erupted in the audience.

you moved to the next in ease, player 246 rolling the stone in his palm before tossing it and narrowly missing the rock on the centre of the ground.

"fail!" the guard called.

you walked towards the stone, legs becoming one big tanglement. you tripped, 246 quick to catch your elbow.

"faster," one of the men on your team snapped, yanking you all forward and throwing you off balance again.

you felt herself wobble, panic rising in your chest, stealing the air from your lungs.

"she’s going to kill us all," the same man barked.

"then untie me and let me go!" you screamed back, voice cracking.

the man opened his mouth to respond but myunggi cut him off, "shut up or you'll be the one to kill us, we need to focus!"

you fell into a silence, moving to get back into the rhythm of the game. each of you struggled, but eventually you passed with seconds left to spare.

you fell to your knees the moment the rope was gone, no longer tying you down. you wished you could feel a sense of relief, feel grateful that your life was still yours but namgyu looked back at you, eyes dilated and panicked. you only hoped you’d see him walk back through the door again.

previous next masterlist wattpad playlist

❪ notes ❫ . i hate writing the games sm its so confusing 😭 anyways i’m so excited to get into the backstories of namgyu and myunggi!!

❪ taglist ❫ . @sollum @meadowfics @nuttybeans @namgyucat @uponmyheart @citarnosis @elmaa127 @luclue @marihoneywk @szkla-nka @lunaryoongie if you wanna be added to the taglist for all future chapters let me know!

[startaegi]

002. bittersweet reunions / DON’T SAY YOU LOVE ME.

summary. where you and namgyu on brink of seperation find yourselves in way of death all to give your daughter a better life.

warnings & tropes. parents namgyu and reader. lovers to enemies to lovers (?), angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending. abusive parents, toxic relationships, potential smut. usual squid game stuff, violence, death, suicide, blood, weapons etc.

pairing. nightclub worker!namgyu x ballet dancer!femreader

you awoke to the sound of classical music, instantly knowing something was wrong. there was no tiny body climbing over you, nor the usual sound of your alarm, just the haunting jingle of the notes. you blinked the heaviness out of your dry eyes and moved to sit up. your body felt anchored down, your limbs heavy. the kind of feeling you only felt on those really bad sick days, when it feels like death is close.

memories of the night before came back to you, playing in your head like a bad dream. the cold winter air harsh against your face, your eyes stinging from the wind. a silver van, and a driver with his face concealed behind a mask and red suit. you recalled stepping into the vehicle, telling yourself it was a bad idea but before you could decide to leave, an unknown mist clouded your vision, and soon enough, you were out cold.

you achingly pulled yourself from the bed, your mind a mess as you tried to sort out the pieces of the night before. your eyes caught sight of your clothing, widening at the bright green against your skin. you panicked, your hands frantically searching for your phone, only to find empty pockets and a tracksuit that did not belong to you.

you took in your surroundings, watching countless people making their way to the center of the room, so bright and vast it was almost blinding, forcing you to squint. like you, they were dressed in zip-up tracksuits, a three-digit number printed on their backs. you assumed yours was the same but didn't bother to check, too panicked by the thought that your phone was gone which meant no way to contact eunwoo or know how hanuel was. your heart twisted painfully at the thought, your mind replaying the last time you saw her, tiny hands waving goodbye in the doorway, still wearing the tattered ballet shoes she refused to throw away.

you swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to breathe. it was fine, you thought. you would play the first game — hopefully something you were good at — and win whatever money they were offering.

the large metal doors opened with a deafening screech, silencing the room instantly. you snapped out of your thoughts, moving with the rest of the group as they gathered near a row of masked strangers. your chest tightened with dread at the unknown, regret already sinking in. you should've never believed the man in the suit would save you from your debt.

a voice cut through the silence, a masked guard in red, “i would like to extend a hearty welcome to all of you," he paused. "everyone here will participate in six different games over six days, those who win all six games receive a handsome cash prize"

"excuse me," a woman called out from the back of the room. you were too swallowed by the crowd to see her face. "you said i’d be playing games, but you practically kidnapped me, so how can I believe you?" she asked the masked guards.

"i apologise. please understand that it was necessary to maintain the game's security"

another woman called, this time from somewhere near the front where you stood, "what’s with the mask then? is your face also a secret?"

"yeah! why are you hiding your face? is this some kind of illegal gambling house?" a man cried out in agreement.

"even the dealers don't cover their faces in those places" the same woman replied.

"to ensure fair gameplay and confidentiality it is our policy not to reveal the identities of staff." he said. "please understand"

you listened as the crowd call out for minutes, countless questions that don't get answered or ridiculous accusations you would laugh at given any other time. your heart pounds so loudly in your chest you can almost hear it, eyes widening at the bright screen in front of you. you hear the name before it's even spoken, see his face for the first time in years.

"player 333, lee myunggi."

he looks different—older, worn down, not the same boy you once knew.

you frantically search for him in the crowd, breath caught in your throat. your eyes scan a hundred faces, each one not who you’re looking for. you hear the guards' voices nearby, explaining something about crypto you don’t understand, and see flickers of movement on the screen but don’t turn to look, desperate to find him first.

you don’t register your name through the rushing in your ears, don’t look away from the crowd once to notice your face now on the screen. but you find him, his face a reflection of yours. you blink, unable to tear your eyes away. myunggi only stares back in disbelief.

a memory flickers through the haziness. a much younger version of you both, bathed in the moonlight of your shared bedroom, your father's old law books stacked against the walls as you whispered into the quiet night air.

you sat side by side on myunggi’s bottom bunk—he was older, which meant you won the fight for the top—textbooks scattered across your laps. you weren't studying. instead, you spoke about your dreams.

myunggi wanted to be a writer, told stories like he lived them while you daydreamed about ballet slippers and swan lake.

you don’t know why that particular moment returns to you. maybe because, watching him now, you realise neither of you ever achieved your dreams. myunggi was never good with money, what business did he have dealing in crypto? how desperate had he become for money?. you swallow hard, the crowd around you calling out, but neither of you move.

the masked guard, the centre one with the square, said loud and clear, no emotion in his voice, "if you wish to participate in the games, please sign the player consent form. those who do not wish to participate please speak up now, we will always give you the chance to leave the games"

a long line of players stood one by one, waiting for their chance to sign. you had thought it over a million times, made a list of pros and cons, but in the end, the irrational part of you won. you should leave while you still had the chance, it was too sketchy. and like the woman said earlier, you’d basically been kidnapped. but, 45.6 billion won. you couldn't miss out on the opportunity. it was too big.

PLAYER CONSENT FORM.

1. a player is not allowed to voluntarily quit.

2. a player who refuses to play will be eliminated.

3. the games may be terminated upon a majority vote. in case of a tie players will vote again.

4. if the games are terminated, players will divide the prize equally.

your hand hovered above the paper, the pen clutched tightly in your trembling fingers. you thought of hanuel, and everything 45.6 billion won could give her, and then you signed. a guard snatched it from the table, already gesturing for the next person. a strange sense of dread settled in your stomach.

you’re ushered out into a large hallway, walls and floors painted in the brightest colours of pink, yellow and blue. spiral staircases twist upward, so many you struggle to find where they begin and end. it’s an eerie sight, like something from one of hanuel’s animated shows.

you snap a photo with an awkward smile, moving onto the staircase to the first game. falling in step with the players ahead, a sudden set of rushed footsteps echoes behind you. then his voice cuts through the silence calling your name.

you jolt in surprise, eyes wide as you turn to face him. namgyu stands behind you, an unreadable expression on his face. confusion, annoyance, relief? you’re not quite sure. of course namgyu is here, you wouldn't expect anything less of him when money is involved.

"what are you doing here? where is hanuel?" he asked, his voice low as he hurried to keep in step with you.

"with eunwoo," you replied, eyes fixed ahead.

he scoffed. "you left her to come here?"

you stopped mid-step, mouth agape, but kept walking as the players behind you called out to move. you turned to face him, eyes sharp. "are you forgetting she's also your daughter, and you've done the same thing?"

namgyu’s face froze for a second, taken aback by your words. his jaw tightened, voice cold when he replied, "you know why i’m here"

you didn't respond as you rounded the corner, your sight falling on two large double doors opening into a wide field. you could feel the breeze of the afternoon air drifting through the open doorways, the wind brushing the ends of your hair. namgyu walked beside you, both staring into the courtyard with confusion.

at the far end of the field stood a doll, and beside it, two masked guards in red, so small in comparison to the looming figure.

the doors abruptly shut behind you with a bang as a woman's voice echoed through the speakers, "the first game is red light, green light."

you let out a sigh of relief, almost laughing at the panic you felt mere minutes before. red light, green light was easy, you played it all the time with hanuel and her nursery friends. if the games were going to continue like this, you were in with a very good shot at winning.

still, something about the silence in the field made your skin crawl.

the woman's voice sounded through the speakers again, "cross the finish line without getting caught in five minutes. if you do, you pass."

a male voice cut through the announcement. player 456 pushed his way through the crowd, waving his arms frantically to get their attention. "everyone, listen up! pay attention!" he called.

the crowd fell silent, hanging onto his every word. "this is not just a game! if you lose the game, you die!"

scoffs and laughter echoed across the open field. beside you, namgyu snickered, muttering something about crazy people under his breath, but you couldn't bring yourself to laugh. 456 seemed genuinely scared, his warnings didn't come lightly.

"hey," a woman called out. "what are you talking about? we’re going to die playing red light, green light?"

"yes, that's right," he said. "if they catch you moving, they will kill you. they’ll shoot you from somewhere! stay on your toes. if you get caught, you die. that doll's eyes are motion detectors." he pointed to the massive figure. "stay on your toes," he repeated.

"what the hell are you talking about?" a man questioned.

"i think he's just trying to scare us so he can win the prize money," the person beside him said confidently.

"don’t pull any tricks, asshole," another man called out.

player 456 desperately pleaded, "you have to believe me."

the doll behind him slowly turned, the scraping sound sending a chill through your body. player 456 cried out, terror in his voice, "don’t be alarmed or panic. no matter what happens, don't panic and start running!"

you didn't know what to believe. death by playing children's games was like something from a badly written movie, things like that didn't happen in real life. but, you would be silly not to take his advice — so you played as he said, pausing when you should, not moving a muscle just incase someone took you out.

beside you, namgyu did the same. his hands trembled slightly at his sides, you weren’t sure if it was from withdrawal or the fear of death potentially closing in. you felt his eyes on you at each step, as if to make sure you were still breathing.

a scream broke through the silence. you didn't turn to look, you couldn't risk it. your heart stopped as a gunshot rang out. the blood drained from your face, and an uncontrollable tremble raked through your body. someone had just been shot. someone was dead.

"nobody move" 456 called, this time louder and more insistent than before. "you must not move!"

you couldn't see who was shot but as the doll turned to hide again, the woman's voice called out, "player 196, eliminated"

another scream rang out, followed by a gunshot and then, like dominoes, players began to fall one after another, gunfire ricocheting through the air. you stood frozen in place, trembling hands clutched in your zipper pockets.

"red light, green light" the song sang again.

no one moved this time.

456 raced to the front of the still crowd, arm covering his face, "you will also die if you don't make it there in time!" he shouted. "that doll is a motion detector but it can't detect motion that's not visible to it, get behind someone bigger than you like you're doing follow the leader" the clock ticked down, two minutes left. "we’re running out of time! we’ve got to move"

you didn't have time to think as namgyu grabbed your shoulders, concealing you behind him. "stay behind me," he said, though not before slipping behind someone else. you froze, shaking hands gripping the back of his zipper. wasn’t he supposed to be protecting you? why did it feel like he was hiding with you, rather than shielding you?

on the last call of red light, green light, your white sneakers brushed against the red finish line, barely making it as the doll slowly turned to face the courtyard again. you doubled over, trying to catch your breath. you refused to turn around—didn't want to see the countless bodies piled atop one another. instead, you frantically searched the area of survivors in hopes of spotting your brother's face. when you did, his face was a mix of fear and relief, as if he was also doing the same thing, in search of you. you both let out a sigh, eyes wet as you gave a nod of recognition.

a final ring of gunfire erupted through the chaos, stopping everyone in their tracks. you clenched your eyes shut, your body trembling in fear. you felt namgyu at your side, could see his eyes fixated upon myunggi across the room, silently wondering who he was to you. there was no time to talk, no time to tell him he had nothing to worry about, not as the shutters of the room suddenly began to close, cascading the entire field into darkness. your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest. this was only the beginning.

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❪ notes ❫ . im sorry this took foreverrr to write 😅 next update hopefully sooner!

❪ taglist ❫ . @sollum @meadowfics @nuttybeans @namgyucat @uponmyheart @citarnosis @elmaa127 @luclue @marihoneywk @szkla-nka if you wanna be added to the taglist for all future chapters let me know!

[startaegi]

CHAPTER FOUR. nobody else.

in which the lonely hybe barista catches the eye of popular idol jung hoseok, in turn changing her life forever.

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the cafe continued to stay busy, allowing your mind not to wander. customers came and went throughout the day, but hoseok stayed, at least for a while longer than usual. his friend left not long after they arrived. they laughed loudly together, so comfortably that you could tell their friendship was more than just idol and choreographer.

hoseok ordered another coffee and then spent the rest of his afternoon hunched over a notebook, headphones on, pen scribbling against the paper. you tried your best not to watch him in between fleeting customers, yet you couldn't not. his presence seemed to take up the entire room.

the cafe had calmed for a while. you cleaned tables, washed dishes, boxed drinks and pastries for pickup, and at some point in between, he left. you hadn't seen him go, only noticed the empty seat as you cleaned the surrounding tables.

your hands were full; disinfectant spray, cloths, empty plastic cups, when you noticed it on his table. a napkin. you snatched it up, adding it to the pile of other items in your hands, not thinking too much of it.

you reached the bins, and just as you stretched a hand out, you noticed the ink against the white tissue. a smiley face, lopsided, hurried, and imperfect. your eyebrows furrowed, a small smile making its way onto your face. had he purposely left it behind for you to see? your heart hammered in your chest at the thought.

you tucked it away and continued on with the afternoon as if it wasn't burning a hole in your apron.

the rest of the day passed quickly, in hurried conversations, the clanking of dishes, and the aroma of coffee. you liked the busy days, when you could glance at the clock and an hour would pass by without realising, the comfort of home so close within reach.

you cleaned down the tables for the last time that evening, sunjae's soft humming and the faint radio the only sounds in the room. you smiled to yourself while pulling out chairs and placing them on top of tables. moving onto the next, you momentarily paused. a lone notebook sat tucked into the corner of the seat. you picked it up, the worn leather rough in your palms. there was no name, no indication of who it belonged to. you flipped it over countless times, as if something might suddenly appear.

you opened it to the first page, not intending to read the contents inside, only needing to know who to return it to. but there was nothing, only the messy scribbles of what you assumed were lyrics against the lines of the paper. you closed the notebook gently, the words were too personal for your eyes. whoever this belonged to was most definitely a writer. you’d hand it in to lost and found instead. the stranger deserved their privacy.

sunjae closed down the music, then moved to the machines and next the lights. the cafeteria was silent, but the sounds of music, chatter, and footsteps echoed along the hallway outside. you protectively held the notebook against your chest and an iced coffee cup in your hand.

"do you need a ride?" sunjae questioned as you walked the long hallways.

you shook your head, eyes darting to the book against your chest. "gotta go to lost and found, might take a while."

he nodded, bidding you goodbye and leaving in the opposite direction of the exit. you passed faces you recognised, not by name, but by their coffee orders. just as you rounded the corner, a few rooms away from the lost and found, you collided into someone.

the iced coffee in your cup shook, almost spilling onto the floor.

"i’m so sorry—" you started, taking a step back.

but then your eyes met his.

hoseok blinked, equally surprised. "oh, hi."

your heart raced, eyes wide. "i’m sorry, i didn't see you."

he shook you off. "it’s my fault. is the cafe closed?"

"yeah, you just missed it."

he raked a hand through his brown hair. It was different today, where it was usually straight and short, now it looked longer with a slight wave. it suited him.

"i’m sorry to ask," he started, "but can you let me back in for just a second? i think i left my book there earlier."

realisation set in, and you held up the book like a trophy. "this?" you asked. "i was just about to hand it into lost and found."

he let out a sigh of relief, a sense of tension leaving his shoulders. "you’re a lifesaver," he breathed, gently taking the book into his hands, eyes scanning the cover as if it were the only thing in the world. "i don't know what i would've done without it."

"thank you—" he paused mid-sentence, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. "i don't know your name."

it suddenly dawned on you that he was right. in the times you did speak, it'd never been long enough to ask such questions. the room felt different. you felt different. this is how it always began, a name and the small talk, the getting to know each other, and then soon you were too boring, too lost in your own world to bother with anymore, and cast aside.

you almost reluctantly told him. you tried to tell yourself it was just a name. there was no hidden agenda. this wasn't going to suddenly form a friendship or anything more. he was simply being kind.

"pretty," he smiled, eyes scanning your face. "it suits you."

your breath caught in your throat, fingers tightening around the coffee cup, the condensation wetting your palms. for as long as you lived, you hated compliments, never knew how to take them, especially when they came from someone like him. you looked away in an attempt to hide the blush on your cheeks.

you opened your mouth to reply, to force yourself to thank him, maybe even compliment him in return. you could mention his new hairstyle. but you were interrupted by a voice calling down the hallway, "hoba, did you find it?"

with a cheeky smile, he held the book above his head, waving it slightly toward whoever had called him. you didn't turn to look, your thoughts drifted elsewhere. you assumed he was a dancer, but with lyrics so honest and raw, there was no way he kept them to himself. you supposed he could do both, work on choreography to the songs he'd written or maybe, just maybe, there could be the insane possibility he was an idol. he definitely passed the test looks wise. you shook your head, willing the thoughts away. they would only hurt you in the end.

"i should get going," you spoke up, motioning behind you towards the elevators.

"thanks again for finding this, i seriously thought it was gone forever" he smiled, then laughed. "my boss would've killed me"

definitely a writer then, you thought.

"see you tomorrow?" you questioned, a little bit of hope in your voice.

he nodded in return, his smile so pretty you wondered how he had normal everyday conversations without people getting completely distracted.

if you looked up from the wet pavement as you walked home, too distracted by the music blasting through your earphones, you would've noticed the billboard. it was blinding against the night sky, almost covering the entire side of a newly built skincare store. jung hoseok smiled brightly in the photo, his hands daintily holding a glass bottle. you noticed the lights and wondered why they were so bright, but didn't once look up to see the reason why.

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❪ notes ❫ . another bts member appearance 🫣 updates might be a bit slower since im gonna focus on my namgyu fic but ill still be writing when i can :)

❪ taglist ❫ . @granataepfelchen @readeryaknow @mizz-kraziii if you wanna be added to the taglist for all future chapters let me know!!

[startaegi]

001. the beginning of the end / DON‘T SAY YOU LOVE ME.

summary. where you and namgyu on brink of seperation find yourselves in way of death all to give your daughter a better life.

warnings & tropes. parents namgyu and reader. lovers to enemies to lovers (?), angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending. abusive parents, toxic relationships, potential smut. usual squid game stuff, violence, death, suicide, blood, weapons etc.

pairing. nightclub worker!namgyu x ballet dancer!femreader

the hotel reception was suspiciously quiet for a saturday afternoon. the odd guest or two came and went, their footsteps echoing through the empty entrance but no new arrivals since your shift began.

you sat behind the desk, legs aching and eyes drifting to the clock on your computer screen. you watched the seconds tick down, letting out a breath of exhaustion. it would be just your luck if a wave of new check-ins arrived in the thirty minutes before you finished.

you held your breath, eyes still on the clock as the double doors opened. you lifted your head, expecting to see a guest and was instead greeted by the sound of children’s laughter.

hanuel was glued to eunwoo’s side, as she always was, giggling as he attempted to playfully shake her off. you looked at the pair with a smile, the weight of exhaustion momentarily lifting from your body. the long hours were worth it when it meant being greeted by her smiling face at the end of the day.

hanuel noticed your presence, her round eyes peeking up at the reception desk through her messy bangs. “eunwoo-samchon taught me how to play piano,” she beamed excitedly.

you gasped dramatically. “he did?” you asked.

hanuel nodded proudly, her fluffy brown curls moving with her, one hand still clutched in her uncle’s. eunwoo stood at her side, a look of pride on his face. you’d never be able to repay him for everything he’d done for you since the day you met — working late nights at the club, afternoons at university, juggling too much all at once while still trying to experience a typical college life.

he helped you through your pregnancy, watched you face some of the hardest moments of your life, and through it all, he stayed.

eunwoo might not be hanuel’s uncle by blood, but he more than deserved the title.

hanuel darted to an empty table, throwing her pink backpack onto it and emptying the contents, pencils spilling everywhere.

eunwoo shook his head with a laugh. “i think i’ll need to sleep for a week after today.”

“she’s obsessed with you.” you looked from the girl to your best friend, smiling. “thank you for watching her again.”

“stop talking like that, you know i’ll always do it.” he paused, pointing toward the exit. “i should get going though, date at seven.”

you raised your eyebrows, lips pulling into a smirk. “where’s he taking you this time?” you asked.

“some comedy club in seoul,” eunwoo replied with an eye roll.

“you literally said last week that stand-up comedy makes no sense.”

“yeah, well, you’ve seen him.” he paused mid-sentence, a grin tugging at his lips. “maybe it’ll all make sense after tonight.”

you threw your head back in laughter. “get out of here,” you said, motioning for him to leave. “and text me later, okay? i need to know if you survive.”

eunwoo left, not before saying goodbye to hanuel, crouching down to her level and playfully ruffling her hair. her tiny face scrunched into the cutest scowl as he waved you both goodbye, once again leaving you in silence.

hanuel was always a good kid. she rarely ever cried, and now that she was old enough, she seemed to know when it was the right time or place to be loud. she sat happily, scribbling away in her colouring books, a pencil swapped for another every few seconds, her teeth tucked into her bottom lip in quiet concentration. no words would ever be big enough to describe the love you felt for her.

“ten minutes, then we can leave,” you called across the room, your voice soft but full of exhaustion.

hanuel raised her head with a nod, pencil still in hand. “okay, mama,” she said cheerfully, then returned to her book.

summer was slowly ending. the leaves had already begun to change, the nights growing colder and darker. both of you walked the streets of incheon, hand in hand. you felt yourself threaten to topple over, exhaustion settling deep in your bones. but the girl beside you was still full of energy, skipping along with a bear clutched in her arms. you often wondered where she got it from; neither you nor her father had given her it.

a headache pulsed at the base of your skull, the city lights and chatter doing nothing to help. you moved as fast as a four-year-old could, weaving through college students just starting their night, and families heading home after a day in the city.

an ice cream shop came into view, its flickering pink and blue lights inviting you in. soft music drifted through the open door, an idol group you would never be able to recognise.

hanuel’s eyes lit up at the sight. “can we get ice cream?” she asked, tugging on your hand.

you knew you should say no. you were behind on rent, barely had enough food to last until your next paycheck, and just as your luck went, your only heater had just broken in time for winter.

but as hanuel looked up at you with those bright brown eyes—so sweet, so kind, everything you wished for her to be—you couldn’t say no.

you shared a cone, sitting on a park bench just beside your apartment. hanuel swung her legs, ice cream smeared across her face, while you stared at the night sky, trying not to fall asleep.

by the time you arrived home, the night air had grown colder, your apartment silent except for the low hum of the fridge. you felt silly for even thinking namgyu might already be here—might’ve run a bath for hanuel, laid out her pajamas neatly on her bed. maybe even cooked dinner, so you could eat quickly and drift off to sleep without a single thought. you swore to yourself every night to never get your hopes up, and yet you always did.

as you always did alone, you bathed hanuel, cooked and fed her dinner, read a bedtime story, and stayed until she drifted off to sleep. only then did you heat up some leftovers, tiredly eating them in the silence of the kitchen before showering and settling onto the sofa.

you didn’t turn the tv on, didn’t bother to check your phone or pick up a book. instead, you stared blankly at the four walls, willing yourself to stop thinking.

no amount of tiredness could override your mind.

hanuel’s words echoed through your head, her heavy eyes slowly shutting as she once again wondered when appa would come home.

you were sick of lying to her, sick of giving her false promises and never being able to follow through.

you didn’t know where namgyu was. you didn’t know when he’d be home, and sometimes wondered if he ever would return.

you never had the answers to the questions hanuel asked in the small hours of the night, because you didn’t know the answers to them either.

the door opening cut through the silence. the sound of heavy boots being kicked to the side and a jacket flung to the ground. he groaned but didn’t bother picking it up, shuffling into the kitchen.

you didn’t speak, didn’t move a muscle as you watched him.

he was high, it was obvious. his hands trembled slightly, and even in the dark, with only the open fridge casting a light, you could see the dilation in his pupils.

and again, another piece of hope broke in you.

“hanuel was asking where you were,” you spoke up. “again.”

his body jolted in surprise, a hand clutching his chest.

“fucking hell.”

“did you hear me?” you asked.

namgyu only grunted in response, pulling anything and everything from the fridge in a hurry. you didn’t have the energy to argue, you’d done it one too many times already.

you stood up from the sofa, running a hand through your hair.

what was the point, anyway?

you could shout until you were blue in the face, until you had no voice left to shout with, and he still wouldn’t listen. he’d keep stumbling through the door at midnight, the smell of the club filling your apartment, all while ignoring the pleading look in your eyes as you begged him to care.

he took your seat on the sofa, ramen balanced on his lap. you shook your head in disappointment, leaving him to himself and deciding it was time for bed.

the bathroom was small and cracked in places, but it was good enough for what you could afford. you brushed your teeth quickly, refusing to look at your tired face in the mirror above the sink.

you didn’t need physical proof of how you felt.

soft whispers echoed through the walls. you paused, unsure where they were coming from. you cracked the door open, noticing the dim nightlight glowing in hanuel’s room.

namgyu’s voice spoke quietly, the soft tone he only used with his daughter.

“appa’s gonna go and come back, and we’re gonna live a better life, i promise you,” he said.

you watched as he gently brushed back her bangs, smiling down at her.

he pressed a light kiss to her forehead.

“and you’ll finally get the ballet shoes you dreamed of.”

tears burned in your eyes. you couldn’t bring yourself to listen anymore. whatever plan he had, you wanted nothing to do with it. nothing he ever did that involved money ever ended well. you wiped your tears, pulling the sheets over your cold body. you willed away the heartache, the pulsating headache, and everything else racing through your mind, and drifted of to sleep.

the following day at work, an unfamiliar man appeared. no room reservation, no name. just a briefcase and a question.

“would you like to play a game?”

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❪ notes ❫ . i’ve been working on this all day today and yesterday, and think it might be the longest chapter i’ve written ever???? anyways enjoy bcos it’s just about to get worse from here :)

❪ taglist ❫ . if you wanna be added to the taglist for all future chapters let me know!