if u get a ★★★★★ in ur inbox it means ur moot appreciates u, and your efforts in the community !!!!! send this to 10 mutuals to continue the love 🦢☕️📟 🖤
(also how are you? :))
you’re so cute 🥹🤍 same goes to you!!
also i’m doing good, i lost motivation for so long but i’m back i think??? how are u?? <3
gurllll so excited for ur new fic that gives all the vibes of those 2010s typa romance with puppy eyes jungkook!! also i think the female lead is gonna be a baddie who will suffer from excessive jungkook disease. lol lol.
i was thinking something too. as you see, there's a lot of well established writers here who are geuinely undderrated for now. and since, me being the epitome of an unemployed ff reader has eat up all the famous works so do you, pretty please, recommend me some underrated writers out here or their works??
p.s: LOVE YOUR NEW THEME!!!
puppy eyes jk is very on theme for him in this fic LOLOL. also yes, oc is a mainly cutie but also very much a baddie that will fortunately unfortunately have to suffer from excessive jk syndrome 😔
also, it would be my PLEASURE to recommend some of my fav authors on here, so here you go babyy :>
- @page-isa ; i promise i’m not just biased cuz she’s my bsf LOLOL i love her stuff so much and she has a fee peakkk fics coming up soon. she writes for txt too!!
- @jigglyjeon ; cece has like the most unique fic premises that i absolutely adore. she was basically my introduction to hybrid fics and now i’m obsessed so
- @tranquilreign ; guys i wanna steal j’s brain so bad sometimes whenever she tells me about all these fic ideas she has (she has like a million a day) cuz they’re SAUR GOOD. she has a rlly cute smau going on rn and is also writing a spiderkook fic, just to name a few 😼
- @startaegi ; again, another super amazing writer. she has a new yoongi fic coming out soon which is like reincarnation au type thing which i an absolutely BUZZING for hehe :>
if you want more recs you can always check out my fic rec acc @aprilreqz cuz i always reblog fics that i read on there! (i say this as if i haven’t updated in like a month lmfao)
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!
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.
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
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!!
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!!
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 😭
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!!
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!!
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 🤍
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!
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!
janainaart
theartofmadeline
gummygunk
pixelskylines
baratheonpilled
dailybridgerton
