CHAPTER 06 - Once You Go In, There's No Turning Back (hwang In Ho X Reader)

hii!! i was wondering if you'd be interested in writing a young inho x reader, something fluffy, maybe like a university!au where the reader and inho are both training for police, and they go from meet ugly to lovers?? nothing too long, just a short little au!!

all up to you if you'd like to pick this up!! love ur current series btw

my kind of distraction (hwang in-ho x reader)

Tags: university!au, inho x reader, enemies to lovers, young in-ho, fluff

Summary: You first meet In-ho at a convenience store, unbeknownst to you that he was also party of the police academy you were training for. On your first day of training, you meet In-ho again and think of him as someone who's arrogant during trainings, as he would criticize you whenever you were partnered with him. Over time, you found yourself looking forward to your trainings together. And when you successfully anticipated his next move, for the first time in a while, he smiled.

A/N: I know I used a Mr. Sunshine GIF for this AU, but it's the perfect scenario of what I pictured in my head. I'm sorry this took awhile as I am still grieving over my father, but here it is! 🫡

----

The fluorescent light cast a stark, sterile glow over neatly stacked shelves, the faint beep of the cashier scanning items, and the quiet hum of refrigerators lined with colorful drinks. As you entered the convenience, the smell of instant noodles, cheap coffee, and something fried from the food warmer near the counter reached your nose.

The ground beneath your feet was steady, yet it felt as if you’re walking on air, one breath away from something bigger than your grasp. You took a big step out of your comfort zone, entering the police academy with no connections - just pure luck. For the past few days, you’ve been trying to convince yourself that you made a great choice, that it was enough. Enough to prove the fear doesn’t get to hold you back. That growth isn’t meant to be comfortable. 

You sighed as you grabbed an instant ramen on the shelf, with a soda in a can at hand. You had to eat something, at least. The nervousness in taking it all by yourself, taking control of your life, was starting to get to you. At least, in this way, you felt normal.

You didn’t notice him at first. Not until you round the corner of an aisle, trying to get to the cashier, and see him standing by the refrigerated section.

Tall. Composed. Effortlessly self-assured in a way that feels almost deliberate. 

He doesn’t look around, doesn’t hesitate in his movements. His fingers graze over a row of canned coffee, seeing it labeled as Americano as he plucked one off the shelf with a kind of precision that suggests he does this often. There’s an air of distance about him, something cold and untouchable, like he exists in a space just slightly apart from everyone else. 

Even as another customer brushes past him, murmuring a quiet sorry, he doesn’t acknowledge it, doesn’t shift, doesn’t react. He simply steps back as if it’s expected, as if the world should move around him rather than the other way around. The cool blue light of the fridge highlights the sharp angles of his face. You shook your head, an attempt to shake him away from your thoughts as you noticed yourself staring. He hasn’t noticed you yet. Or maybe he has, and he just doesn’t care. 

And then, as if sensing your stare, he lifts his gaze and meets yours.“You see something you like?” He said, voice low and edged with a quiet arrogance. 

You snapped away from your thoughts immediately as you felt your throat tighten, caught between embarrassment and irritation. 

You open your mouth, ready with a sharp retort, but then he turned away. He walked past you without a glance, the scent of coffee and something clean lingering in the air as he passed. It should be unremarkable, just another fleeting moment in a late-night store. 

But something about him stays with you. You don’t know why yet.

Not yet, anyway.

But one thing’s for sure - that annoyed you more than anything else.

——

The universe had other plans. The kind of plan that didn’t think of you, that didn’t care for your feelings. 

“Hwang In-ho.”

You snapped your head up just in time to see him forward as you stood in formation on your first day of training at the police academy, listening to the instructor call out partner assignments. You nearly feel your stomach drop as you see him, the man you met at the convenience store.

He was composed as ever, his expression still unreadable. 

“And you,” the instructor continues, turning toward you. “You’ll be working with him.”

Your gaze stayed still, trying not to show any emotion from what you felt from your first encounter with Hwang In-ho. You avoided his faze as he walks over to stand beside you; something flickers across his face. A moment of quiet recognition.

His eyes drag over you as if to assess you, tilting his head a bit. Then, he let out a quiet chuckle.

“You again,” he murmured, just low enough that only you can hear. 

You straighten your shoulders, trying not to let his arrogance under your skin. “Guess you’ll be seeing a lot more of me.”

In-ho smirked, his gaze lingering longer before he looked ahead again, completely at ease. “Try to keep up.”

For the past few months, you trained with In-ho. As much as you wanted to think of him as your equal, you can’t help but feel the rivalry between you two. Beside you, In-ho was already prepared, his stance immaculate, and his confidence radiated like an invisible force. 

The sound of boots scraped against the floor echoed in the small, sparse room. You and In-ho stood in the center. The air was thick with anticipation, and despite the calm exterior, you could feel the adrenaline humming through your veins. Today’s training was all about speed and precision - drawing the weapon fast enough to stop a threat before it had a chance to react.

In-ho had already settled into his stance, the gun at his side, but his eyes were sharp, scanning the space like he could already predict what would happen next. His usual cocky smirk was there, though this time, it had a sharper edge to it.

“You ready to keep up?” In-ho asked, his voice almost mocking.

“Just don’t slow me down,” you replied. You tried to ignore the way his words grated against you. You knew he was trying to test you. Drawing the weapon wasn’t just about speed - it was about control, about making every move count without wasting time. 

In-ho turned his head, his eyes glinting with that same arrogant fire. “You should be thanking me for this. You’ll never get this fast on your own.”

You clenched your jaw but didn’t respond. It wasn’t worth it. You knew what you needed to do.

“Go.”

Your fingers shot to the grip of the gun, a smooth, practiced motion - except it wasn’t quite smooth enough. Your hand fumbled slightly at first, a split-second delay in pulling the gun free, and that split-second was enough for In-ho to draw your gun away.

In-ho lowered his gun with a grin, his voice dripping with that all too familiar smugness. “You might want to work on that. A slow draw will get you killed before you even start.”

You felt the heat of frustration surge in your chest, but you swallowed it down. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, he was right. Yet you didn’t want to lose this time. 

“Let’s do it again,” you said, steadying your breathing.

In-ho gave you a cocky nod, clearly entertained. “Fine. But don’t take too long. I wouldn’t want you to waste all my time.”

You took a step closer, not missing a beat. “Oh, I’m sure you’d love to waste more time on me,” you teased, leaning in just enough for him to notice the playful glint in your eyes. “But I think you’re already getting a little distracted.”

In-ho’s expression faltered for a moment, his usual confidence slipping as he caught the shift on your tone. His eyes lingered on you, just a fraction longer than what was considered normal, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of something else behind his gaze. 

At that moment, you knew you caught him off guard.

In-ho’s expression shifted, his confidence momentarily shaken as he cleared his throat. “You think you can distract me that easily?” A tight chuckle escaped from his lips.

You shrugged with a smirk. “I’m sure you can handle it. But I think you might be a little more… interested in what I can do.”

In-ho’s lips twitched, fighting back a smile. For a second, you could see him caught between his usual arrogance and the curiosity that had crept up into his eyes. He cleared his throat, trying to regain control of the situation. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” he said, though there was a slight edge to his voice, something more amused than irritated.

“Ready for round two?” You challenged, giving him a wink, this time with more confidence than before. 

“Go.”

The signal came again, and this time, you were ready. Your hand shot to the holster, faster, smoother, pulling the gun with fluid motion from him. You pointed and aimed at In-ho, sending his arms up in surrender. 

For a moment, the room went still. In-ho was caught off guard, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by a flicker of surprise. You couldn’t help but grin, your finger resting lightly on the trigger, though you weren’t about to fire.

“You were saying?” You asked, your voice low and teasing.

In-ho blinked, the smile creeping back onto his face, only this time, it was different. There was something more impressed in it, a quiet acknowledgement of the thought that you just won.

“Guess I underestimated you,” In-ho said, his cockiness returning, though with a slight edge of admiration.

You lowered your gun, placing it on your pockets as you wiped your sweat away with a face towel. “You do that a lot, don’t you?” A soft chuckle escaped from you.

To your surprise, he smiled. “You’re full of surprises.” His voice was almost softer now, a subtle warmth in his words.

You felt your heart skip a beat. There was something about the way he looked at you - something disarmingly genuine in the smile that reached his eyes. As you tried to steady the racing of your heart, you swallowed as you let out a small grin. “You have no idea,” you replied.

In-ho watched you for a moment longer, the smile still playing at the corners of his lips. He seemed to favor the tension between you and him before giving a slight nod. “I think I’m starting to.”

----

>> REQUEST HERE

your favorite crime. (Hwang In-Ho x Reader)

Plot: Given the age gap, you and In-ho had a lot of differences but one thing's for sure - you love each other so much it's destroying the both of you. As the relationship progresses, the fights progresses as well. In your last fight, you break up with In-ho. After two months of no contact, you and In-ho meet again in a local bar. But, he's with someone else this time.

Tags: angst, you and in-ho break up, in-ho finds someone new but still has feelings for you, on-off relationships, age gap, violence

>> Masterlist

"God fucking dammit!"

You slammed the door to your apartment then went on to your knees, letting out the tears you were holding in from earlier.

He was unfair. SO UNFAIR. Sure, he spoiled you with a lot of things to make up for his absence. You wanted new shoes? He would wire over some money and send it directly to your bank account, or he would go out of his way to buy it and give it to you as a surprise. You wanted a new bag? He would give it to you in an instant, even those that needed to be shipped for a few days. You craved for something? He would either deliver it for you, cook for you, or just wire some money to your bank account for you to buy whenever he was busy.

That was the problem. He was always busy.

You've been singing at bars for awhile, something to start off with your music career. You've always been musically inclined as you learned a bunch of instruments since high school. You sang, played the drums, bass, guitar, piano - name it. It was fulfilling to be able to go out of your comfort zone, thanks to In-Ho who motivated you to start singing again.

But what happens if the one who motivates you couldn't even at least watch your show, at least once?

You respected his choice of continuing and working for the games. Despite you not being exposed to the games, you understood the concept of it. You shared ideals with In-ho, at least there was something similar between the two of you despite the age gap.

But what you couldn't understand was how he constantly missed watching your shows. Couldn't he at least spare a little of his time to support you? He argued that he overslept, the games were all he had to work on as he had to come up with new games or at least rotate the gameplays, he was tired, and he was still supporting you from afar even if he wasn't physically present.

You sniffed, wiping the tears away from your face. You proceeded to go to the bathroom to at least try and fix yourself up. As you looked at your reflection in the mirror, you couldn't help but miss the person you were before meeting In-ho. This person you're currently looking at, whose mascara and eyeliner were all over your eyes, your lipstick smudged - you vowed to never let a man make you look like this, or even put you in this state.

You sighed, opening the faucet to splash some water on your face, letting sadness take over as you replay the memory of you breaking up with In-ho.

"Y/N," In-ho said, touching a part of your shoulder trying to calm you down. Though he failed, as it made you angrier - knowing damn well what he was about to say again.

"I'm tired of your goddamn excuses," you said as you swatted his hand away from you. He looked at his hand as if he couldn't process the way you acted. He kept his stare at his hand, his jaw clenching. You knew he didn't like it when you become physically violent, or even just a tinge of pushing him away. But right now, you didn't care. You were mad. "What's your excuse this time? You overslept? Been working all night? Tired? You support me in other ways instead by buying me stuff? Treating me outside after my show to 'make up' for your absence? What, In-ho?!"

He glanced at you, his eyes becoming dark as he slowly looked to your eyes. You knew what his look meant - he was becoming angry too. If you had anger issues, he had it worse.

You were taken aback as he grabbed the glass of whiskey on the countertop and slammed it to the floor, its shards spreading around the floor. You didn't flinch, but you felt a glass graze at your leg. With your anger, you couldn't feel the pain yet. It was gonna sting for sure, but you were too angry to care.

But then he started coming towards you, his hand aimed at your neck. His grip wasn't tight enough to choke you, but he had that look in his eyes that if you triggered him once more, he wouldn't hesitate to grip it harder. You held his arm, gripping it with your nails as you tried to get away from him, but he was too strong.

His breath hitched as he continued to look at you with darkness in his eyes. He started to speak up, "You're ungrateful." His jaw clenched while tears started to dwell upon your eyes, but you held them back. "You think I love missing your shows? You think I don't try to at least watch one of them? As much as I want to give you a time, you know damn well that I couldn't. The demands of the games were so high, and it's not my fault that you schedule your shows whenever the games start!" His grip tightened more, this time, making you breathless.

"Then you could've at least made time!" You shouted as you removed his hand successfully, touching your neck. His hands felt like it was imprinted on you, not realizing how he gripped it tighter before letting you go. You coughed, collapsing to the floor as you tried to catch your breath. You felt your legs shake out of anger, feeling the sting of pain from the graze you had earlier. In-ho seemed to notice as your fingers went on to the wound, blood imprinting on your fingers. "If you think this could be fixed with sex, then you're not in luck. I'm done with you."

"What did you say?" He asked sternly, his fists clenching as his eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm done with you, In-ho," you finally stood up, looked at him in the eye as you did so. Your legs were still shaking, but you managed to walk to the door. You gave him a last glance, enough to tell him that you were leaving his life for good. "I'm fucking done with you."

His face hardened as you blurted out those words, his heart beating through his chest harder than ever. While on the other side of the door, you continued to walk away with tears streaming down your face. You hoped to at least hear the door open and for him to chase you and say that he was going to make up for his absence.

The door stayed still, unopened. Instead, you heard the door locked from the inside.

----

It's been two months since you've heard about In-ho. You and him didn't contact each other at all after the fight. Though last month, you noticed the salesman on the subway again, playing ddakji with a random person. You only looked at them for a bit, to which the salesman immediately noticed. He gave you a small wave, unbeknownst to the man he was playing with who was awfully paying attention to the game. Probably someone who's in bad debt that he was too focused on playing the game. The man had hand imprints on his face, knowing damn well that the salesman was winning.

You only gave the salesman a small nod. You didn't like being associated with anyone who's closely related to In-ho. He nodded back and focused his attention to the man he was playing with.

You've been doing fine for awhile. Though you didn't date anyone after In-ho. It's not because you couldn't find someone else, but you didn't have the energy to "market" yourself to other people. Even dating apps didn't work for you. You didn't like starting over again, having to tell your favorite color, food, or whatnot to someone else again. It was too tiring. You accepted the fact that you're gonna live alone for the rest of your life.

But you'd be lying to yourself if you didn't think about In-ho sometimes. You wondered how he was doing, or if there was anything new about the games. He may have not had time for you that much, but you always made sure to at least give yours for him. You would listen as to how he carefully crafts the new games, or how he rotates the games for more thrill. Which angered you more, thinking how unfair that you were giving all of your time to him but he couldn't at least give you his. Sure, he spoiled you with anything materialistic - he made sure that you get all the latest trends, but you wanted more of his time. Maybe it was your way of telling him that you loved him for him, not for his money. Time was all you wanted, yet for a man who had everything, he couldn't give you at least that.

You sighed on the balcony of your apartment, enjoying a nice cup of tea and enjoying the cold breeze outside. Despite you and In-ho's differences, you still missed the bastard dearly. You missed how his fingers touched your skin, touching your back in circles that made you fall asleep better. You were battling insomnia, and you couldn't help but feel that In-ho was the reason you were sleeping peacefully at night. Even though he missed your shows, he was always present after. It made you think if you were ungrateful, but it didn't matter. He still didn't come to your shows to at least show support.

You went back inside your room and decided to look for an outfit to wear outside. When you find yourself thinking about In-ho, you drag yourself to the bar where you two both first met. You don't expect to see him there, knowing damn well he didn't have the time to do so. You knew yourself that it was impossible for him to come there. Hell, he probably doesn't remember that it's where you both first met.

You hailed a taxi cab on the way to the bar. The bar was packed, but you knew the owner so he would just save you a seat on the bar counter. You entered the bar and was met by the smell of alcohol around, people conversing with each other, and the sound of glasses clinking with each other. You went over the counter, ordered your favorite whiskey, preferably on the rocks.

"You alone tonight?" The bartender asked, pouring you a glass of whiskey as she put the ice.

You gave her a small smile. "Yep. No more plus ones."

She chuckled. "I hear you." You gave her a nod and raised the glass to her, thanking her as your drank it in full. She whistled, pouring you another drink. "Someone's getting wasted tonight, huh?"

"You could say that," you chuckled, staring at your glass being poured. The bartender said something, but you couldn't decipher it that much. You were too blinded with the hurt, with the thought of In-ho, and with the emptiness you've been feeling for the past few days.

You looked at the seat beside you, remembering how In-ho looked as he sat beside you. Back then, he didn't realize you were there as he was in too much of deep thought. You were also sitting right where you are, finding no hope in the world as you drink your sadness away. You wished for a family to look after you, a friend to turn to for comfort, or just be with someone. You've always been financially stable and independent. You never knew who your parents were, all you know is they disappeared all of a sudden and never came back. You never approached people first, but with In-ho, you gathered confidence to talk to him. He didn't acknowledge you that much then, completely ignoring you whenever you talk to him.

What he didn't know is that him ignoring you was better as you were used to not talking to a lot of people that much. It didn't feel like talking to a brick wall, but he became more of an outlet for your feelings. It became a tradition for you to go to this bar every night, drinking your sadness away, talking to In-ho (or at least, speaking to him), then going home drunk. You wouldn't know exactly how you got home safe, but knowing you made it to your apartment is enough assurance for you already that you made it safely.

As for In-ho, as much as he doesn't speak to you that much, he still listened. Your voice became a white noise for his thoughts, but he remembered every detail. Suddenly, he found himself coming to the bar every night just to listen to you. He found you amusing but interesting. He couldn't complete his night without you, and he enjoyed every single time you blabbered to him about stuff. Sometimes when the alcohol starts to get on you, you slur at your words. The moment you do that, he knew it's time for you to go home. You may not know how you get home safely, but at least to him, he knew to take care of you. He was the reason you've been going home safe, unbeknownst to you how you taught him the way back to your apartment as he drove at dawn, while you laying on the passenger seat as the alcohol took over you.

A tear fell from your eye as your heart sank with the thought of In-ho. He was a man of few words, but still did a lot for you. The door opened and saw a man wearing a long black coat, his hands tucked in its pockets. His hair was slicked back with gel, a strand of hair down to his face. You thought it looked exactly like In-ho as you chuckled to yourself, looking away as you drank your glass, asking the bartender again to pour you another. You've been thinking about him too much, thinking you've been imagining things.

Wait, what?

You looked back to the door and looked intently at the man you saw earlier. You froze, feeling your heart drop with the realization hitting you that it was indeed In-ho.

God, you hated how good he looked.

In-ho looked through the crowd. You weren't in his line of vision, just glancing around. You were on the other side where the counter was. You looked to where he was staring and saw a stage set in front, with a microphone on stage with one stool chair. A guitar was placed on top of the chair, ready for anyone to play. It seemed like an open mic night is happening and would be starting anytime soon. You noticed In-ho looking there intently. Was he thinking of you? Did he remember you singing there?

You gathered the courage to approach him, fixing your coat as you stood. As you were about to take a step forward, In-ho looked back to the door and smiled.

Smiled.

At someone else.

He gave her a nod as a sign of greeting, his hands touching the back of another woman as he guided her to a table. You feel your body freeze, your hands running cold as you looked at how he held her. You saw how he sat properly, his back touching the chair as he talked to her.

He looked at her the same way he did to you. He touched her back just like he did to you. He took her to the bar where you two first met. The woman whispered something to him, which made him chuckle. His eyes were glued to the menu as the woman continued to talk to him, only giving her small glances.

You sat back on your chair, staring at their table. You couldn't believe your eyes. While it's true that the both of you haven't been in contact with each other for two months, but how can he see someone else already? Were you that easy to replace? You can feel your heart breaking into pieces as you realize how you begged for his time, while he easily gave it to someone else.

You drank your whiskey once more and asked for another pour. The stinging heat of the drink glided through your throat and felt your tears fall, your lips pressed as you sniffed.

"Good evening, ladies and gents," someone on the stage announced through the microphone. "Tonight, we're hosting an open mic night. Feel free to come here on stage if you'd like to sing. The guitar is here and free for you to use for the night. Please enjoy, everybody."

The host bowed before exiting the stage, earning small claps from the crowd. You glanced at In-ho again, who was now talking to the woman he was with. Normally, you would've confronted him right then and there, but you still had your dignity. You would rather break internally instead of making a scene with a random woman. She probably doesn't know, but still, she had your In-ho.

"Got something to sing?" The bartender spoke up as she wipes their bar equipments. You were a regular singer at the bar. You did it for free for the bar, as it was the first avenue that gave you a chance to sing. "You may want to sing your heart out. People are drunk already, they won't probably notice if you cry."

You gave out a small laugh. "Am I that transparent?"

"I poured your glass a few times already, I noticed it very much," she laughed and hovered her hand to the stage. "Go on. Sing your heart out."

In-ho, on the other hand, wasn't having a great time at all. He felt lonely, having no contact with you for over two months. As much as he wanted to contact you, he was scared that you wouldn't want to see him. You telling him that you were done with him was a constant reminder that he fucked up. He didn't mean to oversleep at times when you had your show, he was just simply tired. And when he sleeps, and even a short nap could take him hours. It was a bad habit of his, he knows, so he tries to make it up to you in ways that he can.

Though what he failed to realize is to meet you in ways that he needed to, and how you wanted to.

In-ho didn't know what occurred to him as to why he went on a date with this woman. He knew he was being more unfair knowing how you begged for his time then him giving his time for someone else freely. It was true that he never wanted to miss your shows. He became too invested and busy with the games that he failed to prioritize you at times. He couldn't talk to you when he travels to the island as signal was nowhere to be found in that area. He knew you understood that, but he also wished that he could give you more of his time.

And so, In-ho made a deal with Il-nam to at least give him more days off. He did so well for the games, serving it for years now. At this point, his mind was scattered. But all of it leads to you.

In-ho took his date here only for the fact that he wanted to remember you. Something he could still remember you. He wished so hard for his date to be you instead, finding you in others. But there was no one else like you. Hell, no one was as close as you. In-ho looks at his date's eyes, catching a glimpse of you in his mind. He knew he was just passing time in her arms, but would rather be in yours.

"Annyeong," a voice echoed to the room. In-ho froze, the familiar voice catching on to him. He immediately looked at the stage and saw you, holding a guitar as you continued to fix the microphone leveling it for yourself. "I'm Y/N. Tonight, I'll sing what my heart feels as I wish that someone in here catches of a glimpse of me in someone's eyes."

The crowd murmured with excitement, the environment becoming lively. Curiosity filled the room as they looked at you. The crowd claps for you, including In-ho's date who became invested on to what you were going to sing.

"That's a bold move," In-ho's date said, her eyes locked to the stage.

In-ho adjusts his seat, his eyes never leaving you. He picks up his glass of whiskey, turning the glass around. "It is."

You begin to strum your guitar, feeling lost to the tune as you let your feelings take over you. You closed your eyes, hearing its rhythm as the strings glided to your fingers.

Know that I loved you so bad I let you treat me like that I was your willing accomplice, honey And I watched as you fled the scene Doe-eyed as you buried me One heart broke, four hands bloody

You opened your eyes and saw In-ho, his eyes fixed on you. You looked at him intently as you carefully sang each line, pouring your heart out.

The things I did Just so I could call you mine

In-ho stiffened, remembering how much you put up with his shit for a long time. He hears his date saying something, but he deliberately ignores her. In his peripheral vision, he could see his date's smile falter.

The things you did Well, I hope I was your favorite crime

In-ho's job wasn't easy at all. Hell, it couldn't even be considered a real job. It's an actual crime, slaughtering countless lives as if he was the one who gave them life in the first place. You knowing about what he does make you an accomplice already. Still, you chose to be with him. Despite agreeing with the fact that it's wrong, the concept of running the games still made sense.

You used me as an alibi I crossed my heart as you crossed the line And I defended you to all my friends And now every time a siren sounds I wonder if you're around 'Cause you know I'd do it all again

A tear fell from your cheek, letting it flow freely as you continue to sing. In-ho still kept his gaze at you, but this time, his eyes softened. There was longing - something that both of you had for each other as you parted ways.

It's bittersweet to think about the damage that we do 'Cause I was going down, but I was doing it with you Yeah, everything we broke and all the trouble that we made But I say that I hate you with a smile on my face

How bittersweet it was for him to finally watch you sing live. If only In-ho didn't have a date, and only you weren't broken because of him. If only he made more time. If only he could've been better.

Your voice broke as you sang, adding more emotion to the audience. They all watched you intently, but your eyes were only focused on In-ho.

Oh, look what we became....

You continued to strum your guitar and let your emotions take over you. As you finished the song, you looked at In-ho once again, his eyes still fixed on you. You saw him bit his lip as he looked down, his shoulders tense. You looked at the audience as they clapped, cheering for you. They asked for one more, but you politely declined, giving them a bow as you exited the stage. You could feel In-ho's eyes following you, but you hovered over to your seat fast as your glass of whiskey was waiting for you. You drank it with all your might, asking for a refill to the bartender once again.

You glanced at the door and saw the woman In-ho was with leaving. You looked back at In-ho's table, only for him to appear right beside you as you felt his coat brush against yours.

The two of you sat in silence once again right after the bartender finished pouring your drink. In-ho looked at you intently while you stared at your glass, turning it around as the ice clinked with each other along its whiskey.

Somehow, it felt comforting that he was right beside you. You gathered the courage to look up to him, and god, you wished you didn't.

His eyes were full of worry, as if he was on the brink of tears. He took a sip of his whiskey and placed it on the counter, not leaving his eyes on you. You felt his hands cup your face as you surrendered to his touch. You touch his hand as well, bringing it closer to your face as you took a deep breath, feeling more of his touch.

Without a second thought, his lips meet yours as his hands glided to your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your other hand held his arm, gripping on it as if you missed him.

You missed him so much, just as he did. Hell, he missed you more.

He broke away from the kiss, staring at your face as if memorizing it. He tucked your hair away from your face, "Y/N, I'm so sorry."

You pulled his collar and kissed him more, deepening the kiss. You felt him sniff, feeling a tear from his eye glide down your face. His hands were all over you, not caring if everyone sees the both of you.

"I love you."

----

A/N: This is my first fanfic of In-ho ever! I hope you guys like it. Also, I've been obsessed with writing fanfics based on songs, so feel free to request oneshots or series based on songs as someone who's a music lover. 🤗

>> REQUEST HERE

“this is for soap”

Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain - Character Artworks

CHAPTER 16 - once you go in, there's no turning back (hwang in ho x reader)

>> MASTERLIST

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WARNING: 18+ content ahead. Read at your own risk.

——

The dress fit like a second skin.

The silky fabric hugged your frame, every seam meticulously designed to highlight the slopes and curves of your body. Black as the midnight sea, the gown shimmered subtly beneath the dim, golden lights, catching on the angles of your hips as you shifted. The slit along your leg teased just enough bare skin to stir something dangerous in the air.

You traced your fingertips along the smooth material, feeling the delicate weight of it drape over you like liquid shadow. It felt expensive and… powerful. Like something meant for a woman who could command an entire room with a single glance.

You swallowed hard. This was not the version of yourself you once knew.

The past and present clashed inside you as you stared at your reflection. This wasn’t the same woman who had stepped into the games, trembling at the unknown. She had died the moment she was betrayed, died at the hands of the very man who had set all of this into motion.

And yet, here you were. In his world again.

The door behind you clicked open. Even without turning around, you could feel the shift in the air — the slow, burning warmth that accompanied his presence, filling every inch of the room like an intoxicating mist. The faint scent of cedarwood and smoke curled around you, familiar and unmistakably his.

In-ho didn’t speak right away. Instead, silence stretched between you that weighed. You could feel his gaze roaming over you, mapping every curve the dress accentuated.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”

His voice was lower than usual, rough with something dark and restrained. A slow shiver trickled down your spine. You turned just enough to meet his gaze, and the sight of him sent something sharp and molten through your chest.

His eyes told you everything.

The intensity there made your breath catch — the dark, smoldering, filled with a hunger that had been starved for too long. He looked at you like a man standing on the edge, barely holding himself back from the fall.

“Is it too much?” You asked, feigning innocence.

The corner of his mouth twitched, but there was no amusement in it. Only something ravenous. “Too much?” His voice was a whisper of smoke. He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, closing the distance between you inch by inch. 

Then, his fingers reached out, knuckles ghosting over the bare skin of your shoulder before tracing down the length of your arm. His touch was featherlight, but it burned, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Your heart pounded against your ribs. Then, he tilted your chin up with two fingers, forcing you to look at him fully.

“You look—“ his voice caught for a fraction of a second, the muscles in his jaw tightening as his thumb brushed over your lower lip. His eyes darkened, something flickering beneath them. “Dangerous.”

And then, without another word, he kissed you. It was deep and desperate, like he had been waiting years for this moment, like he was drowning and you were the only thing keeping him afloat.

His hands found your waist, fingers pressing into the fabric as he pulled you against him. Your bodies fit together seamlessly, your curves molding against the hard planes of his form as his lips moved against yours with bruising intensity. His was deep and consuming — each movement demanding and desperate, like he was trying to carve himself into your very soul.

Your fingers found the lapels of his coat, gripping the fabric as his tongue brushed against yours, drawing a quiet moan from your lips. He drank it in, pulling you impossibly closer. Your back hit the cool surface of the vanity as he pressed you against it, his lips never leaving yours, his fingers skimming down your spine.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he deepened it further, his tongue parting your lips, tasting you, drinking in the soft, shuddering sigh that escaped you. His hands slid down your waist, gripping you possessively, as though he feared you would disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

The heat of his touch burned through the silk of your dress, his fingers trailing over the fabric before slipping beneath the slit at your thigh, skin meeting skin. Your body reacted instantly, a sharp gasp caught between your lips as his fingertips traced higher, teasing you.

“You drive me insane,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and edged with need. “Bend over for me.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine. 

You barely had the chance to respond before he pulled away and turned you around, his strength effortless as he bent you over to the closest surface — the sleek marble counter of the vanity. The cool stone bit into the warmth of your arms as he settled between them, his hands roaming, mapping, owning every inch of exposed skin.

He lifted your dress up, only to find that you’ve gone commando. You heard him let out a deep sigh. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”

“Then don’t make me wait any longer.”

A dangerous smirk plastered across In-ho’s lips as he unbuckled his belt, hearing his pants come down as he positioned himself to your entrance, already wet. “As you wish.”

He thrusts into you deep, earning a whimper from you. His hands squeezed your butt cheeks, each thrust corresponding with the sound of slaps as he felt you in, much to your pleasure. He gripped on your waist like a handle, lifting his other leg on a chair as he thrusts into you more, your breasts pressing against the surface as you moved.

You aligned yourself to him, giving it back, which earned a groan from him, stopping his thrusts as he let you work on him. You turned your head to him from behind, seeing his head up in the air as his eyes closed, savoring each pleasure as you continued to ride him from behind, biting your lip as you felt his shaft reach your cervix, hitting the right spots.

The heat was unbearable. The feeling of him inside you, the scent, the way his body fit so perfectly against yours — it was dizzying. And in that moment, nothing else existed. No past. No games. Just him and you, too focused on the pleasure building within these walls.

In-ho’s fingers dragged down to your cheeks, his breath hitching as he continued to thrust. His eyes devoured the sight of you, dark and smoldering with hunger as he met yours. He leaned in, his lips hovering just above your shoulder. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, pressing a slow, reverent kiss along the slope of your shoulders. “Every inch of you… mine.”

He bit his lip once more as you moaned, hearing your satisfaction which made him thrust harder. His other moved to your shoulder, hammering you further as he groaned.

“You’re breathtaking,” his voice was filled with awe. “Every inch of you… so beautiful.”

He didn’t stop, much to your liking. You pulled him closer, your hands reaching for his waist taking it as a sign for him to go further. His breaths continued to hitch as he realized what you were doing, earning a moan from him.

“I need you,” he admitted, his voice raw, almost vulnerable. “More than anything. More than I should.”

“Then take me,” you whispered.

And he did.

“Fuck,” he groaned as his thrusts became harder and faster. “I’m cumming.”

“Please,” you whimpered. 

He thrusts one last time, his pace stopping as you felt him cum inside you. Your insides felt the warm juices he let out, much as your insides clenched as you reached your climax too. You let out one last moan before he pulled out, feeling your heart pound through your chest. 

The warmth of his body still lingered against yours, his breath slow and steady as he lay beside you, one arm lazily draped over your waist, as if afraid if you would slip away the moment he let go. 

After a few minutes, he began to move, sliding your dress down and fixing it. You stood up and straightened yourself, turning around and seeing him fix his pants, zipping it up as he buckled his belt once again. When he was done, his fingers traced mindlessly traced patterns along the curve of your hip, his touch featherlight yet possessive. You turned your head to meet his gaze, catching the way his dark eyes softened as he studied you. He looked almost… at peace. A rare sight for a man like him.

He held your hand as he led you out of the closet, stepping out of the bedroom as your eyes widened slightly. The living quarters were nothing like you remembered. The sterile, minimalist design had been completely transformed.

The living room now boasted deep leather furniture, dark marble accents, and walls lined with bookshelves filled with carefully selected literature. The kitchen had been expanded, outfitted with sleek, top-of-the-line appliances, and an elegant dining area stood just beyond it. There was even a glass bar stocked with premium whiskey and aged wines.

Your fingers trailed along the polished black marble countertop, taking in the sheer luxury of it all. This wasn’t just a place to stay — it was a place of power.

“I take it you like it?”

You turned to find In-ho standing behind you, fully dressed in his signature black attire, a subtle smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

“This wasn’t here before,” you said, your voice carrying a note of suspicion.

“That’s because it wasn’t. This is the overseer’s private residence,” his eyes glimmered with warmth. “Our private residence.”

You managed to make a small smile, though you couldn’t deny his words settled over you like a weight. Before you could say anything, In-ho motioned for you to follow him, leading you to the elevator down to the management area.

For hours, In-ho guided you through the intricacies of your new role, showing you each room of the organization. He taught you the protocols, the meticulous rules that governed the games, the chain of command, and the delicate balance of power that had to be maintained.

He walked you through security measures, how to control the masked men, how to issue commands with precision, and how to wield fear without the need to raise your voice. And most importantly, he taught you how to make the hard choices.

“The games are not just about entertainment,” he explained as you stood in front of a large screen displaying various surveillance feeds. “They are about control. Order. Equality. Without structure, the world falls into chaos.”

His voice was calm and methodical, but you could sense the weight behind his words — the years he had spent becoming what he was now. You listened carefully, absorbing everything, but deep down, you wondered if you would ever be able to see it the way he did.

After what felt like an eternity, In-ho finally motioned for you to follow him again. “There’s one last thing I need to show you.”

He led you down a long hallway, stopping in front of a set of heavy double doors. You held on to your mask, feeling the heat behind it. Without a word, he pushed them open, revealing a dimly lit chamber beyond.

At the center stood a tall figure, dressed in a sleek black uniform, a mask covering his face, the one you’ve seen before — the mask of the Frontman. The figure turned slightly at your approach, his stance relaxed yet authoritative. Then, he spoke, his voice carrying an eerie familiarity.

“Took you long enough,” he said.

You stiffened. Something about the way he said it, the tone, the cadence. Your breath hitched as he slowly lifted his hands, pulling the mask away. 

And there, standing before you, was someone you never expected to see again.

“Surprised?”

You couldn’t speak as your mind raced, trying to process what you were seeing, but no explanation made sense. 

How?

Why?

What the hell happened to him?

You turned to In-ho, searching for answers, but he simply watched you with quiet intensity, as if waiting for your reaction.

“I have to admit,” the frontman murmured, his voice almost taunting. “I never thought I’d see you here.”

“Gi-hun,” you started, stepping forward, but his expression darkened.

“Don’t say my name like that,” he cut in, his tone sharp enough to make you pause. “Not when you’ve made your choice.”

The weight of everything —  your past, the games, the choices you had made — came crashing down on you all at once. You had been ready to embrace your new role.

But now? You weren’t sure of anything anymore.

Your fingers twitched slightly at your sides, though whether it was from unease or the remnants of last night’s indulgence, you weren’t sure. The room felt suddenly smaller, the air heavier.

Gi-hun stood before you, no longer the man you once knew. His hair was still the same, yet he had grown slightly, falling messily around his face. The tired desperation you last saw in his eyes had been replaced by something sharper, something calculated.

A man molded by survival. A man who had seen the truth and had chosen to become part of it.

Your throat was dry, but you forced yourself to speak. “How?”

Gi-hun’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smirk but not quite a sneer. “You mean how I became the frontman?” He exhaled, shaking his head slightly, as if amused by the irony of it all. “You already know the answer.”

Your gaze flickered to In-ho, who remained quiet, his expression unreadable. Gi-hun followed your glance and chuckled. “Of course, he hasn’t told you everything, has he?”

Gi-hun took another step closer, and this time, there was no mistaking the anger beneath his gaze. “Do you know what I realized after the rebellion?” His voice was quieter now, but no less intense. “That there is no ‘winning’ in the games. Not really.”

You swallowed.

“I tried,” he continued, his jaw tightening. “I tried to fight back, to take them down. But you don’t fight something like this without becoming a part of it. And when I had the choice…” He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “I took it.” He looked up at you then, truly looked at you, and there was something almost resigned in his gaze. “Just like you did.”

You clenched your fists. “I didn’t—“

“But you did,” he interrupted. “You let him find you. You let him bring you back here.”

Your stomach twisted again, but before you could say anything, In-ho finally spoke. “She didn’t come back to be questioned,” his voice was calm, but there was an undeniable edge to it. “She came back to take her place.”

Gi-hun scoffed. “Her place?” He turned back to you, tilting his head slightly. “So, tell me, is that what this is? Have you decided to become part of the machine too?”

Your lips parted, but no words came out.

Gi-hun stepped even closer, his voice dropping. “Tell me, when they made their offer, did they promise you power? Control? A way to make sure the games run fairly?” His mouth twitched. “Or did he tell you it was the only way to survive?”

You clenched your jaw. “I don’t expect you to understand,” you said, your voice steadier than you felt. “Not yet.”

Gi-hun exhaled sharply through his nose, his smile humorless. “No,” he murmured. “I suppose I don’t.”

The silence that followed was heavy, charged with too many unspoken things. Then, just as you thought the conversation was over, Gi-hun leaned in slightly, his next words barely above a whisper. 

“When the time comes, and they ask you to prove your loyalty, what will you do?”

A chill ran down your spine. You knew exactly what he was asking.

And you didn’t have an answer. 

Not yet.

The silence between you and Gi-hun stretched long enough that the weight of it settled deep in your bones. He was waiting —  waiting for an answer you weren’t sure you could give.

You felt In-ho’s presence beside you, steady and unwavering. Yet there was something almost expectant in the way he stood, as if he was waiting to see what you would say,

Your fingers twitched at your sides, realizing that Gi-hun was right. The games had no winners — only survivors. And here you stood, standing in the space between the two men who had survived alongside you — one who had risen to control it, and the other who had surrendered himself to it.

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” you finally said, your voice even.

Gi-hun let out a soft breath, almost in disbelief. “I suppose you don’t,” his eyes then flickered over to In-ho. “But that doesn’t mean you won’t regret this.”

The threat in his voice was subtle, but it was there. In-ho shifted slightly, just enough of his shoulder to brush against yours — a silent reminder of where you stood. “Are you done?” He asked, his tone calm but firm.

Gi-hun held his gaze for a long moment before exhaling sharply. He stepped back, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the invisible tension. “For now.”

Then, without another word, he turned away, striding toward the door. You didn’t realize you’d been holding your breath until it closed behind him. The silence left in his wake was thick and suffocating.

You felt In-ho’s gaze on you before you turned to meet it. “You don’t have to let him get inside your head,” he murmured.

You felt a lump in your throat. “He’s not wrong though.”

In-ho’s jaw tightened, but he paused for a while. Instead, he reached for your hand, his fingers wrapping around yours with quiet uncertainty. “You made your choice,” he said. “Now, you see it through.”

You weren’t sure if that was meant to reassure or warn you.

——

The following weeks were grueling yet fulfilling. 

In-ho wasted no time in thrusting you into the depths of the organization, stripping away any illusion that this was anything less than a meticulously crafted empire. You learned the structure, the power dynamics, and the unspoken rules that dictated every move behind the curtains. And more than anything, you learned how to become something else entirely.

In-ho didn’t go easy on you. If anything, he was harsher than you expected, demanding precision, discipline, and complete detachment. Yet he was like that during the day, but completely different when the training was over. You understood that he needed to do it.

Still, you played your part well. It became your nature — the way you stood, the way you spoke, the way you carried yourself. The mask you wore became seamless, indistinguishable from the person you once were. This was the life you accepted, the life they had given you. You were at the top — you just had to figure out how long you can survive it.

The new season of the game came by quickly. This time, it had a new set of rules, and new players. The games had changed, and so did the players. This time, it was less cruel, but enough to make a person inside the game to go crazy and desperate. All in the test of human greed and the true unraveling of human nature — just like how you saw it in the past game you were in.

Gi-hun stood before you, his face unreadable, the mask of the Frontman now absent but its presence still lingering in the air between you. He had taken In-ho’s old position, and in a cruel twist of fate, you had taken his place as someone trapped within the very system he had once tried to dismantle.

And then, there was In-ho — calm, composed, the ever-calculating overseer. His expression betrayed nothing, but you knew him well enough to recognize the quiet weight behind his silence.

“You’re late,” In-ho said evenly, stepping forward near In-ho with measured grace. “The new games are already being prepared.”

Gi-hun smirked. “I’m not here for the games.”

Your stomach twisted at his words. Then why was he here?

In-ho watched him carefully. “Then what do you want?”

Gi-hun exhaled slowly, slipping his hands into his pockets. “You know exactly what I want, In-ho.”

He turned his gaze to you and something flickered in his expression. Your grip on your own mask tightened. “You can’t expect me to believe you came all the way back here just to see me.”

Gi-hun’s smirk faltered slightly, but he didn’t deny it. Yet you wondered why was he invested in you, why you were his… target. You were gone for six months — what could you have possibly done? Was it because you chose to hide? Did you ruin the rebellion?

The three of you stood in a delicate balance, a triangle of power where no one truly had the upper hand. Gi-hun had the experience of a player — the raw survival instincts of someone who had clawed his way out of hell and returned stronger. While In-ho had the control, the authority, the understanding of the system. The calculated mind of a man who had long abandoned morality for necessity.

And you? You were the variable. The piece neither of them could fully control that made you the most dangerous of them all.

“Whatever your reason is, Gi-hun,” you said carefully, stepping closer. “It doesn’t change the fact that you put yourself back in their hands. You think they’ll let you walk out of this a second time?”

Gi-hun chuckled, much to your surprise as he shook his head. “You think I care?”

That caught you off guard, knowing he meant it. Gi-hun had nothing to lose and that made him a threat to both you and In-ho. The silence stretched between the three of you, a cold realization settling over the room. 

This wasn’t just about the games anymore. This was about control — none of you were willing to give it up.

You and In-ho stood in the control room, overseeing the first round unfold through a wall of monitors. The massive, sterile space was silent, except for the occasional flicker of radio chatter and the quiet hum of the surveillance equipment.  Below, the contestants — new players, all wide-eyed and trembling — were led into the first game. The tension in the air was thick enough to suffocate. You watched them shift nervously on their feet, eyes darting around the colossal playground. They didn’t know yet or understand.

Then, the crack of gunfire came. The first round of eliminations. Bodies collapsed like ragdolls, blood soaking into the sand. The screams echoed against the walls of the arena. You remained impassive, even as In-ho glanced at you from behind his mask. This was your first official trial as an Overseer. Would you flinch? Would you hesitate?

But you didn’t. You simply stepped forward, your gaze fixed on the screen. The moment of hesitation in your chest had passed. As the game continued, you excused yourself from the control room. In-ho let you go without a word, his trust in you silent but absolute. 

Your heels clicked against the pristine white floors as you made your way down the winding halls of the facility, your long cat flowing behind you. The organization had spared no expense in making sure the island remained impenetrable, a well-oiled machine that would continue to devour the desperate and the damned.

You tried to ignore the slight dizziness that washed over you as you walked, the strange wave of nausea that had crept up on you over the past few days. Brushing it off, you steadied yourself with a hand against the wall, forcing yourself to breathe evenly. It was nothing — just the stress and exhaustion. Nothing more. 

Eventually, your path led you to the lower levels — the organ harvesting room.

The air was thick with the stench of chemicals and decay. Metal tables were lined with bodies, each corpse stripped and gutted with surgical precision. The underground trade had continued, a secret that the organization pretended not to notice.

You stepped forward, weaving through the dimly lit space, and then you heard a sound. A wet, grotesque noise. A sickening squelch of movement.

Your stomach turned before your brain even fully processed what you were seeing.

A guard — one of the masked enforcers. He was hunched over a lifeless body, his gloved hands gripping at cold flesh, his breath ragged and frenzied. The corpse beneath him was unmoving, lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling. The guard didn’t even notice you at first, too lost in whatever twisted pleasure he was indulging in.

You felt the rage, pure seething rage coiled inside you, dark and boiling. The guard barely had time to turn his head before your pistol was drawn, the barrel pressed against the back of his skull. “Disgusting fuck,” you hissed.

He didn’t even have time to beg.

The gunshot rang out, deafening in the enclosed space. His body slumped forward, his own blood staining the lifeless flesh beneath him. You didn’t move for a long moment, your grip tight around the handle of your gun. Your heart was pounding — not out of feat or shock. Just out of unfiltered disgust.

Slowly, you exhaled and stepped back, holstering your weapon. The other guards in the room had frozen, staring at you in stunned silence. None of them dared to move.

“Dispose of this trash,” you ordered coldly, nodding toward the body of the disgraced guard. “And if I catch any of you doing the same…” You let the threat linger, your voice sharp as a blade. “You’ll wish I killed you this easily.”

The guards scrambled to obey, dragging the corpse away with frantic urgency. You lingered for a moment longer, staring down at the mess of bodies, the grotesque remnants of human lives reduced to nothing more than profit.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and left the room, but that nausea returned, a sharp tug in your gut. You barely made it to the nearest empty hallway before doubling over, your breaths shallow.

You swallowed hard. No, it couldn’t be. You refused to entertain the thought, the possibility. Not now. Not here.

But deep down, you already knew. You had felt it lingering in the back of your mind for days. You pressed a hand to your stomach, fingers trembling slightly. You were showing signs — signs you couldn’t ignore forever. But now, you pushed the thought away, straightened yourself, and walked back into the shadows.

——

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A/N: I'm debating on whether I'll end this series for only 20 chapters or extend it for more. 🤔 More ideas come into my mind whenever I finish writing so we'll see how this goes. 👀 Feel free to leave out your thoughts here, and I'll gladly interact with each and everyone of you. 🫶

Don't forget to leave a comment in this post to be tagged in the next chapter! ✨

TAGS: @machipyun @love-leez @enzosluvr @amber-content @kandierteveilchen @butterfly-lover @1nterstellarcha0s @squidgame-lover001 @risingwithtriples @fries11 @follows-the-life-ahead @goingmerry69 @plague-cure @theredvelvetbitch @cherryheairt @ggsrlla123 @alliyah-ll  (p.s. if i forget to you, please let me know)

CHAPTER 09 - once you go in, there's no turning back (hwang in ho x reader)

>> MASTERLIST

previous chapter | next chapter

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You cupped your hands under the cold stream, letting the water pool on your palms as you brought it up to your face. The coolness sipped into your skin, a brief moment of relief as the tension in your temples eased. Droplets ran down your cheeks as it traced on to your jawline. You looked at yourself in the mirror as you dried yourself up, seeing Jun-hee behind, much to your surprise.

"Jesus, you scared me," your breath hitched as you rubbed the water away from your face using your shirt.

Jun-hee chuckled as you motioned to the side, awaiting her turn as she bowed to you. She moved forward to the sink to check herself in the mirror, then splashed some water on her face. Your skin felt refreshed, though you wished you had your skincare products with you to make you even feel better.

You went behind Jun-hee as both of you walked out of the bathroom, making your way towards the labyrinth of stairs down to the dormitory. You noticed Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Dae-ho, and In-ho already packing the beds, but the mattresses were being placed beneath the bedframes.

"Lights out in ten minutes," the voice said on the speakers. "Please prepare for bedtime."

"Pass it to me," you heard Gi-hun say as you walked near them, seeing them arranging the mattresses like a fort. The mattresses seemed clean, but its dust plumed into the air much to your sneeze as Jung-bae swatted his hand away from the dust.

"Bless you," Jung-bae said to you as you wiped your nose/ You sniffed, feeling the dust still lurking somewhere in your nostrils, only for you to sneeze again.

"God," you complained, turning away from the mattresses. "Please, excuse me."

"Excused," In-ho muttered. His voice was almost low but still audible for you, yeet you chose to ignore it.

"Is this really necessary? I don't like sleeping under there," Jung-bae complained, looking at the mattress being put under the bed with disgust.

"Once the lights go out, somebody might attack us," Gi-hun explained, his eyes fixed on the mattress he was arranging.

"What? Who?" Dae-ho asked, placing a mattress in front as a blockage, while Jun-hee held out the blankets.

"The prize money still goes up if we kill each other," Gi-hun said, his voice dark. "It's part of the game they designed."

"Seems like it," you said, nodding to Gi-hun in agreement. "This wasn't about the games anymore. They clearly want to see us fight up there. Some sort of a test for humanity, something like that."

In-ho scoffed from behind. "I think you're overreacting here. Even if that were true, people wouldn't do that."

As you were about to retort, Gi-hun turned away and faced In-ho, his expression dark but fearful. "In the previous games, dozens of people killed each other at night," Gi-hun pointed to the ground, his words pronounced every detail. "Right here." He sighed deeply as he continued. "You have no idea how people can change in this place."

In-ho looked away, sighing in defeat as he gave a small nod. "All right. I guess I didn't know what I was talking about. I'm sorry."

You raised an eyebrow, sensing his words with no hint of sincerity, as if it was perfectly memorized. Like it was an automatic response. You went back to your senses and listened more to Gi-hun, whose back was turned on In-ho. "Once it's lights out, we need to take turns keeping watch. I'll take the first watch. You should decide the order for the rest."

"I'll take after Gi-hun," Jung-bae raised his hand, then he looked at you and Jun-hee. "Both of you should get a good night's sleep for the rest of the night. It would also be better if you sleep at the bottom for your safety."

"I can handle myself," you assured, waving your hand as if to dismiss the idea. You turned to Jun-hee and gave her a small smile. "You can sleep for the rest of the night, Jun-hee."

Jun-hee nodded as she made her way to the mattress, seemingly wanting to sleep. She needed a lot of rest for her to get ready for the next games, hopefully to make it out in the end.

"I'll take watch after brother Jung-bae," Dae-ho said, giving a salute to Jung-bae, to which he returned. The two marines exchanged handshakes.

"That leaves me then," In-ho said, then he looked at you. "You can take watch after me."

You nodded and proceeded to get your blanket and pillow along with Jun-hee's, deciding to sleep beside her at night to accommodate her needs. You weren't knowledgeable on how to care for a pregnant woman, but you should at least try. You felt a sense of protectiveness for her, tucking her in.

You positioned yourself on the bed, placing a blanket over you. The lights dimmed as the piggy bank's light illuminated around the area. You could feel your eyelids drooping, growing heavier with every passing second. The world around you blurred, the edges of reality softening as your body sank deeper into the mattress. You could feel every muscle in your body ached with fatigue. No matter how hard you tried to stay alert, your body had already decided - there was no fighting it anymore.

----

Sleep had barely settled into your bones before something stirred you awake. Your eyes cracked open sluggishly, your mind swimming through the heavy fog of exhaustion. The world around was still wrapped in darkness, the dim lighting from the piggy bank overhead casting eerie shadows along the bunk beds. Your limbs felt weighted and slow to respond, and cold air stung against your exposed skin, making you shiver.

You slid out of the mattress, careful not to wake Jun-hee up. You rubbed your eyes as you blinked, sluggishly adjusting to reality.

And then, you saw In-ho.

He sat a few feet away, his back straight, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the sleeping bodies. He barely moved, barely even blinked, his silhouette rigid against the dim glow of the room. The sharp angles of his face were softened by darkness, but there was something unnerving about how still he was.

You moved slowly and quietly as you approached him, only for him not to react much. He didn't even flinch, didn't turn his head, but you knew he was aware of you.

You hesitated before lowering yourself onto the floor beside him, mirroring his posture - leaning back against the bunk, legs stretched out, knees barely grazing. The silence between you was thick, but not suffocating. Not yet, anyway.

"You can sleep," you spoke up as his eyes flicked towards you. "It's my turn to watch."

"The lights will open in a few hours. It's no use to sleep now," In-ho replied as he returned his eyes to the shadows ahead.

You nodded, letting the quiet settle again. You closed your eyes a bit as you could still feel a bit of sense of grogginess, but fixed yourself up when you felt dozing off again.

The room was steeped in silence, save for the occasional rustle of bodies shifting in sleep. The longer you sat there, the more the exhaustion sank into your bones, making your mind wander to places it shouldn't. Your fingers absently traced the fabric of your pants as your thoughts had already slipped somewhere else. Before you could stop it, the memory surfaced - your father.

The same silence. The same kind that used to stretch between you and him, late at night, when you'd wake up and find him sitting alone in the living room, a bottle of beer long gone cold in front of him. He would watch a movie while drinking, enjoying the rest of his night with a cigarette on hand.

You would watch the same movie to help you go back to sleep as he would gesture toward the chair across from him. And you'd sit, just like this, neither of you speaking, both of you staring at the TV in front of you. It was something unspoken, but shared.

You weren't sure why you thought of him now. Maybe it was the stillness. The weight of unspoken things hanging in the air. Or maybe it was In-ho himself - the way he sat there, unreadable, distant in a way that felt too familiar.

The thought made your chest tighten, your throat constricting around something you weren't ready to name.

"Appa used to sit like this," you murmured before you could stop yourself.

You felt In-ho shift beside you - just barely, just enough that you knew he had heard. He didn't turn to face you, didn't press for more, but he was listening.

Your fingers curled slightly against your knee as you exhaled. You didn't mead to say it, but now the words were out, lingering between you both, impossible to take back.

"He'd just sit there at night while watching a movie, thinking about things he never talked about."

In-ho didn't speak, but his breathing was steady, his presence solid beside you. The moment stretched, heavy with something neither of you had the energy to unpack.

"He passed away recently," you swallowed, feeling an ache on your chest. In-ho's faze flickered toward you, seeing his eyes with shock and... worry. "Hemorrhagic stroke. I was getting ready for work when eomma called me and said that they rushed him to the hospital. He suddenly felt dizzy and passed out in the ambulance. The doctors said he was in critical condition," you felt tears forming in your eyes as your voice cracked. "I rushed to the emergency room that day. The doctors said they couldn't do a surgery on him anymore. There was no brain activity anymore and his body was only relying to the machine. We went home and waited for more news. It took a while for us to decide but then..."

Your voice cracked, and before you knew it, the tears came - hot, unstoppable, burning their way down your cheeks. You bit down on your lip as if that would keep the sob from escaping, but it only made your shoulders shake harder, your breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps.

"When we were on the way back to the hospital, the doctors tried to revive him twice. As if he was waiting for us. When we arrived, we decided to take the medicines off and let him pass naturally. And just like that, in just a few hours, he was gone."

It wasn't just the fact that he was gone. The fact that life had ripped him away from you, without warning, without time to prepare. That there had been so many things left unsaid, so many moments you thought you'd have, but never would.

You pressed the heels of your palms against your eyes, trying to smother the sobs, trying to control yourself, but it was useless. You weren't just crying - you were breaking, unraveling right in front of him.

In-ho was still silent. But he hadn't left.

His fingers twitched slightly against his knee, like he had considered doing something - but in the end, he stayed still.

You sucked in a breath, swallowing back another sob. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this," you whispered, your voice raw, shaking.

For a moment, you thought he wouldn't respond. But then, softly, he said, "Because he mattered."

You blinked, fresh tears slipping down your cheeks.

In-ho exhaled, tilting his head slightly, his gaze fixed on the floor. "People like that... they don't really leave us. They just... stop being where we can reach them."

Something about the way he said it made your breath catch. It sounded too familiar, too knowing, like he was speaking from experience.

You wiped your tears away with your sleeve, trying to steady yourself, but the weight in your chest didn't disappear. It wouldn't, not for a long time.

In-ho didn't offer anything else. No empty reassurances. No forced words of sympathy.

But he stayed. And somehow, that was enough.

You could feel his gaze on you, heavy and assessing, but he didn't speak. You turned your face away as if hiding it would somehow take away the humiliation of breaking in front of him.

In-ho's fingers ghosted over your wrist before retreating, hesitant, like even the smallest act of comfort was something foreign to him.

You sniffled, forcing a shaky breath. "You don't have to pretend to care."

In-ho exhaled through his nose, something like amusement, something like frustration. "I'm not pretending."

You turned to him, expecting coldness, indifference. But instead, you found something else. His gaze was unreadable, but there was something softer, something hesitant in the way his lips parted like he wanted to say more but wouldn't.

And then, you felt his lips against yours. It was brief, deliberate. Not desperate, not hurried - but real.

His lips were warm against yours, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn't feel cold. His grip on you tightened as he pulled you closer, surrendering to the moment.

But then, the light came on. The bright, harsh, unforgiving light illuminating the room.

You barely had time to register the words before In-ho pulled away, the warmth between you vanishing as quickly as it had come. His expression was unreadable again, as if the moment had never happened.

"The third game will begin momentarily. All players, please get out of bed and get ready."

----

The moment the heavy doors slid open, a stark sterile brightness spilled into the corridor, making you squint against the sudden change. The space beyond was massive, eerily open, the kind of emptiness that felt designed to make you feel small.

In the center of the room stood a series of platforms and narrow walkways, forming an intricate maze-like pattern, interconnected in ways that felt delibrate, calculated. At first glance, there seemed to be no immediate danger - no spikes, no pits, no obvious traps.

"Welcome to your third game. The game you will be playing is Mingle."

You looked around as you saw the doors around the place, each with different colors. If this was Mingle, then you would be grouping yourselves, pairing up, and choosing sides. This game could be to form alliances, or something worse - something to force you into connections you wouldn't want.

"All players, please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate and you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."

"Oh, this game? We used to play something similar on school trips," Jung-bae spoke up. "We formed groups by hugging."

"Yeah, instead of hugging, we go into those rooms," Dae-ho pointed at the doors.

In-ho, Y/N, Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Dae-ho, Jun-hee.

"If the number is six, we can stay together," you said, earning a nod from each of your group. "We can be divided by three and two. So that wouldn't be a problem."

"If it's two, you and me pair up," In-ho stated with no hesitation. Before you could react, he leaned in and wrapped his hand around yours steadily and certain.

Your breath hitched, but you didn't pull away. The words sent a sharp jolt through your chest - not from fear, not from surprise, but from the way he didn't phrase it as a question. He wasn't asking. He was deciding.

His grip was firm, not forceful, but final. Like he had already made the choice for you - like he wouldn't let you end up with anyone else.

Your eyes flicked up just in time to catch the others watching. Gi-hun, Jung-bae, Dae-ho, even Jun-hee noticed. The way In-ho held your hand. The way he had spoken so casualy, so sure as if it was obvious. The way you didn't pull away.

Gi-hun's expression tightened, his brows furrowing just slightly, as if he was trying to understand what he had just seen. You could feel the weight of their silent questions. But In-ho didn't look at them, as if he didn't care. He didn't acknowledge their glances. He just kept his grip on your hand, his thumb resting lightly against your skin.

Gi-hun seemed to shake away his thoughts, focusing on the game ahead instead. "If the number is bigger than six, we'll get the additional people we need."

"Yeah, we have Geum-ja, Hyun-ju, Yong-sik, and Young-mi. These rooms look like it could only fit up to ten people," you replied, earning a nod from Gi-hun.

"No matter what happens, don't panic. Let's stay calm," In-ho said, his hand still not pulling away from yours. "We'll all make it out together here."

One by one, your hands with the others pressed against each other, stacking in a firm, unspoken pact. The weight of each palm settled atop the next, fingers brushing, gripping, grounding. The warmth of skin against skin was a quiet promise - whatever happened next, you were all in this together.

"Victory at all costs!"

"Let the game begin."

The first bell-like chime rang out. The platform moved with the players on it. The gasps echoed from the room as you heard the song, "Round and Round" play on the background.

Dunggeulge dunggeulge Dunggeulge dunggeulge Binggeulbinggeul doragamyeo chumeul chupsida

Beside you, In-ho stood perfectly still, his gaze fixed ahead, his posture unreadable. You glanced down to find his hand was still holding yours, fingers curled loosely but solidly around yours. You hadn't let go, neither of you had.

Sonppyeogeul chimyeonseo Noraereul bureumyeo La-la-la-la, jeulgeoupge chumchuja

You tightened your grip to In-ho as you could feel your insides shaking, terrified of what was next. You could already anticipate the chaos it would entail once the music stops, trying to force your way into those doors.

Ring-a-ring-a, ring-a, ring-a-ring-a, ring Ring-a-ring-a, ring-a, ring-a-ring-a, ring Sone soneul japgo modu da hamkke Jeulgeoupge ttwieo bopsida

Your stomach tightened upon hearing the music stop. Then, the numbers flashed across the screen. The platform clunked, almost sending you to the ground but failed, thanks to In-ho's grip on you.

"Ten."

You barely had time to think as you watched the players around you scramble, hands reaching out to others as they searched for a sense of safety in numbers. Your heart raced. You knew you had to act fast. In this game, alliances would form and be broken in a split second. There was no in between.

In-ho was beside you, his grip on your hand stayed. The pressure was mounting with each passing second. You could see the other players eyeing each other, trying to gauge who would be an asset and who might be a liability.

Without hesitation, you grabbed Jun-hee, Gi-hun, Jung-bae, and Dae-ho as you grouped yourselves together with In-ho. Gi-hun approached Hyun-ju, seeing they were four which was perfect for a group of ten.

"There's no time, Gi-hun," In-ho said as he gripped your hand tighter and ran to a door, the group following you. The green door opened and revealed the green walls around you, panting as you entered.

The timer beeped as the latch clicked, indicating the door has been locked. You peeked through the hole and saw that there were still players outside, sparing for their lives as the guards aimed their guns at them, gunshots echoing through the room.

You froze, seeing the bodies drop to the ground. You felt someone grab you from the side, burying your head over their chest. You sensed it was In-ho as his breath was shallow against your ear as he whispered something you couldn't quite make out, something low and protective.

There was only the sound of bodies hitting the floor, and the quiet safety of being pressed into him, as if you were tucked away from the madness. And in the midst of the chaos, his chest was the only thing you could hold onto, the only thing that could remind you that there was still something human, something warm, in a world that was falling apart.

"The following players have been eliminated: Players 013, 043, 049, 054, 060..."

As the doors unlocked, only the blood remained around the floor. The bodies were no longer there, enough for you to think whether seeing the lives taken away were just a dream. In the span of moments, the tension in the air shifted from uncertainty to something else entirely - a realization that the number didn't just matter for the game; they mattered for your survival.

----

At this point, you weren't sure anymore how you were able to survive the next rounds. It's as if you were just breathing and passing the time, only this time, your life was at stake. At first, it had been difficult to watch. The gunshots, the screams - it had shaken something deep inside you. But now, it was just another sound in the background of this twisted game. A signal that the rules had already been set - only the storng survive.

You had long stopped reacting, long stopped feeling the sting of it. It was as if you had slipped into a place where you could no longer be touched, where nothing mattered but survival.

"There are 126 people left and there are 50 rooms. So there won't be enough rooms for everyone, only for 100 people," you told your group as you scanned the room. "The rest will be killed."

Gi-hun seemed to look at you in horror, as if shocked to hear about your casualty on talking about killing. You kept your gaze in front of you much to his horror. But In-ho, he was more amused.

The platform rumbled, indicating that it was time to pair up.

"Two."

In-ho instinctively grabbed your hand as both of you ran to find empty rooms. The others around were still floundering, unsure of their next move. Your senses were full now, numbed by the constant violence, as if something deep inside you had already switched off. You had seen too much, felt too much, and the pain and fear had begun to fade away, replaced by something darker, colder.

This wasn't about survival anymore. This was about the true unraveling of human nature, something you were finally starting to understand.

As the players slowly paired up, you saw another playing trying to make his way toward a room, a look of uncertainty in his eyes. He was too close to that room that should've belonged to you and In-ho.

In-ho didn't hesitate. Without a warning, he stepped forward and grabbed the man by the collar, dragging him out of the room as he tried to make his way inside.

"What the hell? Let go of me!" Player 285 screamed as In-ho held him back.

"Get in!" In-ho ordered you and rushed inside, only to see another player already inside.

In-ho followed after he threw Player 285 out of the way, seeing Player 343 there.

"Get out," In-ho commanded, his voice deep and low.

"We were here first," Player 343 retorted.

You stepped forward as your hands came into a fist. Player 343's eyes widened in confusion. You didn't give him the chance to fight.

Player 343 was looking at you, their gaze cautious. It wasn't a look of fear - not yet. But it would be soon. He shifted in front of you nervously, eyes daring between you and In-ho, but he didn't know.

He didn't know what you were becoming.

In-ho was just there, just a few steps behind you. It wasn't like he was holding you back, but there was an unspoken understanding between you. He sensed it, didn't he? The change. The shift that was slowly creeping over you, turning your survival instincts into something much darker.

You were no longer just fighting to survive - you were becoming the predator. And Player 343? He was nothing but a prey now.

You didn't hesitate. His neck snapped easily under your fingers, the crack of bones loud in the stillness, his body crumpling at your feet. His body dropped to the ground, lifeless, in a heap of twisted limbs. The silence between you and In-ho felt deafening.

As you turned to look at In-ho, you felt his eyes on you - steady and unblinkingg. He wasn't surprised. He wasn't even acknowledging you. But you could feel the quiet recognition he had of what you were becoming.

"I never taught you how to kill someone for a game," In-ho said, his voice low, his gaze briefly flickering to the body at your feet before he stepped closer.

You blinked, the words settling into the space between you, but you didn't answer. Instead, you felt his fingers gently press against your skin, just above your pulse. His touch was strangely familiar, like it had always been there, like you hadn't notiveed how much you craved it until now.

In-ho cupped your face, his thumb tracing your jawline as if committing the feeling of you to memory. And in that moment, everything else - the game, the players, the chaos - faded away. There was only the quiet intensity between you.

He leaned in, his lips just a whisper away from yours, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt something real.

"Do you still have my ring?" He asked, his breath warm against your lips.

His words stung as you stood there with him, realizing that he had remembered it all along. You knew that you were no longer afraid of who you had become.

Without thinking, you closed the space between you, your lips crashing into his with a force that sent shockwaves through your body. It was intense, desperate - a kiss that was as much about claiming as it was about understanding.

His body was pushed against the wall as his hands were on your back now, pulling you closer, his touch burning through the fabric of your clothes as if he was marking you as his own. His lips were demanding, like he couldn't get enough, as if he had been waiting for this moment just as much as you had.

The kiss deepened, a quiet growl of frustration escaping him as you matched his urgency, your hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer still.

In-ho pulled back just enough to breathe, his forehead resting against yours. He was panting, just like you, as if the kiss had taken all the air from both of you. "You're learning fast from all the game."

The moment between you lingered, a ting of happiness on your chest yet the realization of who you had become felt heavy. The realization of the game not just killing the players, but how it could change them. And for the first time, you understood. The brutality, the death, the constant tension - they weren't just part of the game. They were a mirror, reflecting the truth about human nature.

When pushed far enough, we all become what we fear the most.

You had become the villain as the game progressed. It wasn't about power, it was because you had finally accepted the truth. In a world like this, the ones who survive aren't the ones who cling to their humanity - they're the ones who shed it and embrace the darkness inside.

You were already too far gone to turn back.

"Let's finish this together," you whispered, your words a promise, and you knew deep down, that you were both already lost in the game. "No more lies?"

In-ho nodded, cupping your face with his hand, and gave you the softest smile you haven't seen for years. "No more lies."

----

A/N: And so, we're back! The past few days have been hectic. I added a little update of my dad's condition to this chapter as a way of updating you guys on what happened. But yeah, I hope y'all enjoy the rest of the chapter as we progress Y/N and In-ho's relationship in the fic. Feel free to leave out your thoughts here, and I'll gladly interact with each and everyone of you. 🫶

Don't forget to leave a comment in this post to be tagged on the next chapter! ✨

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>> MASTERLIST

TAGS: @machipyun @love-leez @enzosluvr @amber-content @kandierteveilchen @butterfly-lover@1nterstellarcha0s @squidgame-lover001 @risingwithtriples @fries11 @follows-the-life-ahead @goingmerry69 (p.s. if i forget to tag you, please let me know)

thank you for feeding my delusions

⋆˙⟡ #SecretHusband

lee byung-hun x wife reader, social media!au

yourusername

yourusername me n who?

Liked by wi_wi_wi and others

August 12, 2023

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fangirlforever 5h

YOU N WHO???

softdramalover 1h

is that a MAN???

kdramaaddict 3h

soft launch??? bestie drop the @.

hoooooyeony 6h • Liked by creator

🤍🤍🤍

yourusername

yourusername he takes me out in resto’s like these. who else is winning?

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August 20, 2023

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eunoiary 7h

who’s that soft giant..

lbhpix 6h

BYUNG-HUN LIKED??

leebyungiee 7h

i swear his hands look like lbh’s…🫠

from_jjlee 7h • Liked by creator

Enjoy!! 그것들은 정말 사랑스러워 보인다~~ (They look so lovely~~)

yourusername

yourusername you look so handsome, 자기이. @/byunghun0712 🤍

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August 28, 2023

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byunghun0712 12h • Liked by creator

love you more, 자기이. you take absolutely nice photos of me.

detectivekpop 11h

IMAGINE GETTING MARRIED TO THE LEE BYUNG-HUN

kdramaspoilerz 12h

GIRL MARRIED THE DAMN FRONTMAN FROM SQUID GAME??

iluvoldermen 6h

…im jealous.

boxabum 12h • Liked by creator

💝💝💝

hoooooyeony 11h • Liked by creator

love you both 💞

Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 (2009) ‘Cliffhanger’ — Tian Shan Range, Kazakhstan.

“Best handpicked group of warriors on the planet.”

CHAPTER 14 - once you go in, there's no turning back (hwang in ho x reader)

>> MASTERLIST

previous chapter | next chapter

——

He had seen it coming. Hell, he was in charge of everything.

That final game. The one that had changed everything. The one that had you in it.

The air had been suffocating inside the control room, thick with the metallic scent of blood, with the weight of choices that had been made long before the game had even begun.

In-ho remembered how you looked on the TV from the last season of the games, your body barely keeping itself upright during the Red Light, Green Light game. Your eyes were sharper than ever, burning and filled with something that he had never quite seen before.

The way you had looked at him in the limousine at that moment haunted him still. 

And then, despite the rebellion, there had been a winner. Deserving, as In-ho thought. 

But the man who had risen from the bloodshed, broken, and victorious should have left. But he didn’t.

Instead, a new role had been placed upon him. Not by choice, but by design.

In-ho had watched as the mask was placed over his face, the weight of it settling onto his shoulders like a sentence, as if an inevitability. He had worn that mask once. 

But not anymore.

Not after he had been called into that silent, suffocating room where the men in gilded masks sat in the shadows, waiting for him. 

The Overseer. A title heavier than the one before it.

A role he hadn’t asked for — one that had been forced upon him the same way he had forced the mask onto the new Front Man. The games had changed, and so had its players. 

A knock echoed through the dimly lit room. In-ho turned, his gloved hands resting idly behind his back as the door opened. The knocker’s footsteps were slow and deliberate. Then, a silence came in.

A presence stood across from him, face obscured beneath the black mask that had once belonged to him. For a moment, neither spoke. Then, in the quiet, In-ho exhaled.

“How does it feel?” In-ho asked, his voice smooth but unreadable.

The figure didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice was different than before — colder, stripped of anything human.

“It doesn’t matter how it feels.”

In-ho allowed himself the faintest ghost of a smirk beneath his own mask. “Good.”

Then, without another word, he turned away. 

The city hadn’t changed. The streets pulsed with life as if the world had never stopped turning, as if nothing had fractured beneath its surface. The skyline still burned with city lights stretching beyond the horizon. People walked from one place to another, drowning in their own worlds, oblivious to the monsters that lurked beneath their feet.

But for In-ho, the world had never felt more empty.

Six months had passed since that night — since he found the blood on his counter and the microchip abandoned beside it. Six months since you had vanished without a trace, disappearing into the shadows as if you had never existed. 

It had been six months since he had lost you. And yet, he refused to let go.

He searched everywhere. Every street, every darkened alley, every lead that turned to dust beneath his fingertips. But no matter how far he looked, how many resources he pulled from the depths of his influence, you were nowhere to be found. He scoured the underground, digging into places so deep that even the organization had turned wary of his movements. The weight of the mask no longer felt heavy on his face, but without you, it no longer felt like it belonged.

The realization had settled in his bones like a sickness — an aching, gnawing thing that refused to let go. And yet, he couldn’t stop.

Every week, without fail, he visited your apartment. It was muscle memory now, the way his hand would rest against the doorframe, the way his breath would still in his chest as he listened for any sign of movement beyond the door. But there was nothing.

Always nothing.

There was no warmth inside. No trace of your presence.

You left your key there, but he never once thought of taking it. He never stepped inside, not even once. Because if he did — if he walked into that empty space and saw the dust gathering on surfaces you should have touched, saw the absence of you woven into the very walls — he wasn’t sure if he could keep moving forward.

So instead, he stood there. Every end of the week, in the dead of night, standing like a ghost outside a home that no longer belonged to anyone.

Waiting.

Hoping.

Knowing, deep down, that you weren’t coming back.

——

The news reached him in whispers. 

In-ho went back to his other apartment, the one that no one ever knew — only him. The apartment he went home to after every season of the games. However this time, he was searching for you again, locked in on every file. For the first time in months, something inside In-ho shifted.

A body had been found at an abandoned dockyard. A clean execution — one bullet to the head. No struggle, no trace left behind except the corpse of the man who had once been responsible for finding desperate souls for the games. 

The organization had been careful. This was no ordinary attack. Whoever had done this had known exactly what they were doing. It wasn’t just a loss of a valuable asset to the operation. It wasn’t just the unsettling fact that someone had gotten close enough to take him out without raising any alarms.

You were still out there. And now, you weren’t just running. You were fighting back.

A slow exhale left his lips as he set the report down. His fingers tightened slightly around the edges of the paper, though his face remained unreadable.

The world had indeed changed in the past six months.

In-ho’s feet moved before his mind worked, entering his car as his fingers curled around the steering wheel, knuckles white from the pressure. The rain drummed softly against the window of his car as he drove towards your apartment. There, he parked outside. Although he had no reason to be there, but he couldn’t help himself.

Another week. Another night. Another moment was spent staring at the door that would never open.

The rain blurred the city beyond the windshield, distorting the world in streaks of color. And for a moment, he let himself remember your voice, your smile. The warmth of your presence beside him.

But then, as his gaze drifted toward your apartment building, something gnawed at the edges of his mind. A feeling — one he had long learned not to ignore. The environment carried a charge, something almost electric, almost alive. It wasn’t obvious at first, not to someone who wasn’t looking for it.

Something was wrong.

Without thinking, he stepped out of the car, the cold rain soaking through his coat almost instantly. His heart pounded as he took the stairs two at a time, reaching your door before he could convince himself otherwise.

Then, he froze. The door was slightly ajar. His pulse quickened, a sharp contrast to his otherwise calm exterior. His breath caught in his throat. Slowly, he pushed the door open, the hinges creaking in protest. And then, his stomach dropped.

The apartment was empty. Not just in the way it always had been — but stripped bare, as if someone had come and erased every last trace of you from existence. The bed was untouched. The air smelled stale. His eyes scanned the space, taking in every detail. Although the furniture was the same, something about its arrangement felt off. As if someone had touched it, moved it, sat on it.

His gaze trailed along the room until it landed on the small table near the window. And then, he saw it.

Your letter.

The envelope was simple. There were no markings, no embellishments. Just his name scrawled in familiar handwriting.

Your handwriting.

His fingers tightened around the edges as he picked it up, his throat constricting. He exhaled, steadying himself before he slipped a gloved finger beneath the seal, carefully unfolding the paper within. 

Your scent still lingered on it.

His eyes moved over the words, absorbing them, dissecting every sentence, every choice of phrasing, every hidden meaning between the lines.

I wonder how long it took you to realize I was close. Or if you came here just to mourn the ghost of me, the one you left behind. I wonder if you’ve spent your nights lying awake, picturing my face in the crowd, searching for a glimpse of me in every shadow.

But I already know the answer, don’t I?

You’ve been looking for me. I know, because I’ve been watching you, too.

Do you understand what you did to me, In-ho? It wasn’t just the bullet — it was the choice. It was the cold look in your eyes, the way you pulled the trigger as if my life was nothing more than a means to an end. I wasn’t just another player in your game. I wasn’t someone you could sacrifice for the sake of your throne.

You betrayed me.

And yet, I still think about you. That’s the cruelest part of all. 

Even after everything, I still remember the way you used to look at me. I still remember your hands, the warmth of your touch before you became someone I could no longer reach. And I hate myself for it. I hate myself for every moment I miss you.

But I won’t let that stop me from what I have to do. The recruiters are still out there, hunting for the desperate and the broken. And I see them. I watch them from the shadows. I’ve followed them down the streets, through the alleys, watching as they hand out those cursed cards. And every time I find one, I promise myself I will end them.

I wonder, In-ho… will you stop me? Will you try?

Or will you let me disappear into the abyss you threw me into?

You know where to find me. If you’re willing to look hard enough.

By the time In-ho finished reading, his hands had curled so tightly around the letter that the edges crumpled beneath his fingers. A slow exhale left his lips, his shoulders stiff, his mind a storm of emotions too tangled to unravel.

You were near. You knew he was looking for you. And now, you had given him a choice: let you vanish into the darkness or chase after you.

The corner of his lips twitched, a ghost of something almost like amusement, but there was no warmth in it.

You wanted a challenge? You would get one.

Because no matter how far you ran, no matter how well you hid, In-ho wasn’t going to stop. He had already lost you once.

And he wasn’t going to lose you again. 

——

The alley was silent. The kind of silence that only came after death.

Even in the middle of Seoul, where the streets never truly slept, there were places like this — forgotten corners between looming buildings, spaces where the city’s neon glow didn’t quite reach. Places where death could slip by unnoticed.

The recruiter’s body slumped against the cold brick wall, his final breath long stolen from his lungs. Blood seeped into the cracks of the pavement, dark and glistening under the faint streetlight overhead. The warmth of it clung to your hands, soaked into the creases of your knuckles, staining your sleeves.

The knife was still in your grip, trembling slightly as the adrenaline burned through you.

Another one down. Another recruiter gone.

Your pulse pounded, loud in your ears, drowning out the distant sounds of the city. This was what you had become. You had made your choice the night you left. 

You promised yourself that if you couldn’t stop the games, you would stop those who fed it. And yet, as you stood there, staring at the life you had just taken, a part of you wondered if this was really justice.

Or if it was revenge. 

Your breath came uneven as you wiped the blade clean against the recruiter’s coat before slipping it back into your pocket. The blood on your hands had already begun to dry, leaving a tacky feeling against your skin. The weight of it pressed against your chest.

You had to move.

With one last glance at the lifeless body, you turned, slipping into the shadows, disappearing before anyone could find you.

You had never been much of a smoker before, but now, it was a habit you had picked up in the quiet moments between the killings, in the stolen hours of the night when the world slowed just enough for your thoughts to catch up.

The flame flickered as you brought it to the tip, the ember glowing faintly before you took a slow drag, letting the smoke fill your lungs. It burned, just for a second, before settling into something familiar, something grounding. Your mind wandered before you could stop it.

In-ho.

The man who had once been your everything before he became the one thing you could never forgive.

Six months since you had disappeared into the cracks of the city. Since you had left behind the world that had nearly swallowed you whole. Since you had walked away from him.

And yet, he hadn’t walked away from you.

You’ve seen him. Every week. Every damn week, without fail.

Standing just across the street from your apartment building, half-hidden in the shadows, his hands in the pockets of his coat, his gaze lingering on the shadows as if you could step out onto the balcony. He would stand there for hours, unmoving, just watching. 

And then, just before the sky began to lighten before the world stirred awake, he would disappear like a ghost. Like a man who didn’t know how to let go.

You had never let him see you, never once stepped out of the safety of your hiding place. But you had thought about it.

God, you had thought about it.

There were nights when you had stood by the window, fingers curled around the curtain, watching him through the sliver of space between the fabric. Careful enough not to make any movement around your apartment, for him to think that you never came back there. Nights when you had imagined walking down those steps, crossing that street, standing in front of him, and asking him why.

Why he had done this. 

Why he had betrayed you.

Why he still looked at you like you were something worth waiting for.

And worse, there were nights when you had almost considered it. 

Almost considered going back.

Almost considered accepting his offer.

Because for all the blood on his hands, for all the lives he had stolen, there had been a time where he had been yours. And a part of you, no matter how much you hated it, still wanted to believe that be again. 

But then, the memories would come back. The pain. The betrayal. 

The weight of his gun against your body, the sharp crack of the bullet tearing through you. The way he had looked at you afterward. Not with regret, not with hesitation, but with cold, calculated detachment. Like you had never meant anything at all.

You exhaled, watching the tendrils of smoke curl toward the ceiling before vanishing into nothing. As you stood there in the dim light of the convenience store, with the taste of nicotine on your tongue and the weight of another life on your conscience, you couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter how far you ran, no matter how many recruiters you took down, he would always find a way back to you.

The gas station flickered ahead, neon signs buzzing faintly against the dark sky. It sat on the edge of the city, just far enough from the main streets that it felt detached from the world. A temporary sanctuary.

You pushed open the door to the restroom, locking it behind you. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed, casting a sickly glow over the cracked mirror. And then, for the first time in hours, you saw yourself, barely recognizing what you had become.

Your reflection stared back at you, hollow-eyed and exhausted. Slowly, you turned on the faucet, watching as the water sputtered out, filling the sink.

Your fingers shook as you scrubbed. The blood smeared at first, painting your skin deeper shades of red before finally fading down the drain. But even as your hands became clean, the weight in your chest did not lift.

You gripped the edges of the sink, head lowering, and your breath shaky. You had been killing them one by one. 

You exhaled sharply, blinking back the exhaustion threatening to consume you. There was no time to dwell on it. Not now.

Pulling your coat tighter around yourself, you pushed open the restroom door and stepped into the dimly lit convenience store. 

The bell above the convenience store door chimed as you stepped inside, the harsh fluorescent lights making you squint after spending too much time lurking in the shadows. The scent of cheap instant ramen and cleeaning detergent filled the air, clashing with the lingering smoke of your cigarette, which you quickly stubbed out against the trash bin by the entrance.

You barely spared a glance at the other customers. Just another late-night stop for the city’s restleses — people either coming from work or trying to escape something. The latter fit you right in.

But then, you saw her.

Jun-hee.

Your breath hitched.

She was standing in front of the fridge, reaching for a bottle of water, completely unaware of your presence. For a moment, your mind refused to believe it was real. But she was here, standing right in front of you when, by all accounts, she should have been dead.

Just like you.

Her hair was longer than you remembered, tied back in a loose ponytail, and she wore a thick coat that did little to hide the exhaustion in her posture. But it wasn’t her disheveled appearance that caught your attention.

It was the baby in her arms. Small, bundled up in soft, pale yellow fabric.

Yours and Jun-hee’s eyes met in the reflection of the fridge door. She froze, the bottle slipped from her fingers and hit the floor with a dull thud.

“No…” Her voice was barely above a whisper, trembling with disbelief. “You… You’re dead.”

The words sent a chill down your spine. You could have laughed if the moment wasn’t so suffocating. You had to get out.

You schooled your features, masking the sudden rise of panic clawing at your ribs. “I’m sorry, you must have the wrong person.”

Her eyes widened, a million emotions flashing through them. “No, no. It’s you. It’s really you. How—?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you cut her off, voice steady but firm. You turned sharply on your heel and strode toward the door, the familiar itch of danger creeping up your spine. 

You shoved the door open and stepped back into the cold air, swallowing down the panic rising in your throat. Your fingers twitched at your sides, muscles tensing as you forced yourself to keep walking, to not turn back, to not run.

Jun-hee won.

She was the winner of the last game. The realization settled like a heavy strone in your gut. She had survived. She had gone through the same nightmare, played the same deadly games, watched people die, and somehow, she had come out alive.

And she had a baby now.

Your mind ran circles around the thought, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it. She had seen you. That was all that mattered. You needed to disappear again and let the city swallow you whole, let the neon lights blur in your peripheral vision, let the sounds of traffic and distant voices drown out your thoughts.

By the time you realized where you were, you were standing in front of a bar. It was dimly lit, old, with a neon sign flickering above the entrance, half the letters burnt out. It was the perfect place to sink into oblivion. 

The door creaked as you pushed it open, the scent of liquor, sweat, and stale cigarette smoke hit you instantly, familiar and suffocating all at once. A few patrons lingered at the tables, hunched over drinks, lost in their own troubles. The bartender barely spared you a glance as you slid into a seat at the counter.

Your hands were still shaking, realizing that Jun-hee had seen you. 

You drank the night away, the coldness of the liquor etching your throat as it burned, but you didn’t care. You needed to be wasted.

——

A/N: So far, I've been liking the thought of In-ho and Y/N writing letters for each other 🤭 What did you think of Jun-hee becoming the winner of the games? Do you have any theories in mind for the next season of Squid Game? Let's discuss about it! Feel free to leave out your thoughts here, and I'll gladly interact with each and everyone of you. 🫶

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