Thank You For Feeding My Delusions

Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain - Character Artworks

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CHAPTER 18 - once you go in, there's no turning back (hwang in ho x reader)

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——

The weight of the silence between you was suffocating.

In-ho’s eyes were still locked on you, his gaze unreadable,  his body tense as if he were forcing himself to stay still. Then, his voice cut through the air.

“Since when?”

You swallowed hard, your fingers curling into your palms. “I… I don’t know exactly. I started feeling different a few days ago, but I confirmed it last night.”

You noticed In-ho’s jaw tightened. You could feel his mind racing, trying to piece together everything at once, but then his gaze sharpened, something dark flickering in his eyes. “And how does Gi-hun know?”

“He… noticed,” you hesitated. “He’s been watching me. He figured it out before I could even say anything.”

In-ho let out a sharp breath, almost a bitter chuckle. His hands curled into fists at his sides, his entire body becoming rigid, like a man standing on the edge of a breaking dam,

You took a careful step toward him, reaching out as you wanted to close the space between you. “In-ho, please—“

But the moment, your fingertips barely brushed against his sleeve, he jerked away. Without a word, he turned on his heel and stormed towards the exit.

“In-ho!” You called out, moving after him as you followed him down the halls of the facility as he marched toward your private suite. “Please just stop — talk to me!”

But he didn’t even glance back.

Then, the moment he entered the suite, the tension snapped. You barely had time to step inside before he grabbed the first thing within reach — an empty glass on the kitchen counter — and hurled it across the room. The sharp sound of shattering glass echoed against the walls. You flinched, your breath hitching.

But, In-ho wasn’t done. His hands gripped at the edge of the counter, his breath heavy and erratic.

“Where is it?” His voice was low, shaking with barely contained frustration.

Your stomach twisted. “What?”

“The test,” he snapped, his eyes burning into yours. “Where the fuck is it?”

You couldn’t answer. Instead, you felt your body tremble, overwhelmed by the sheer force of emotions crashing over you. In-ho let out a ragged breath, his frustration boiling over as he grabbed a nearby lamp and sent it crashing to the floor. 

Tears welled in your eyes, your chest tightening painfully. “In-ho, stop!” Your voice cracked.

But he wasn’t listening. His hands tore through the room, opening drawers, and shoving things aside as he searched. You felt a sob build in your throat, raw and aching.

Then, he stopped.

Your breath hitched as you watched him reach for your robe, the one you had worn the night before. His hands searched through the fabric, his movements slowing and becoming eerily calm. Then, his fingers curled around something inside the pocket, pulling it out.

The pregnancy test.

The room fell into a deathly silence. You could hear nothing but the shallow rise and fall of your own breathing, the erratic thumping of your heart inside your chest. In-ho just stared at it, but he didn’t move or speak. He just stood there, staring at the little piece of plastic in his hands as if it held the weight of the entire world.

His lips parted, his voice barely above a whisper. “This is real?”

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you nodded. His grip tightened around the test, his knuckles turning white. His shoulders trembled, his breath uneven.

You didn’t know what he was thinking. You weren’t sure if he was angry, if he was scared, or if he was mourning the life he had before this moment.

All you knew was that he was breaking in front of you.

In-ho’s grip on the pregnancy test trembled as his shoulders tensed, his breathing continued to be uneven and sharp.

But then, he broke down.

A shuddering breath escaped him, and before you could even react, his knees buckled slightly, forcing him to lean against the nearest wall for support. His fingers curled so tightly around the test that you thought he might break it in half. His head lowered, dark strands of hair falling over his eyes, but you could see the way his entire body trembled, the way his chest heaved as silent sobs wracked through him, the tears slipping down his face.

“I should have been the first know,” he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. “I should have been the first to know about this.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he wasn’t done. His mind drifted farther until his voice was no longer meant for you, but for someone who no longer existed.

In-ho had been running late that day. The hospital corridors felt suffocating, the air sterile and thick with antiseptic. The doctor stood in front of him, a clipboard in hand, a carefully controlled expression on her face.

“We ran more tests,” the doctor said. “And… there’s something else we need to inform you of.”

His stomach twisted. “What is it?”

“She’s pregnant.”

The words crashed over him, stunning him into silence. He felt his heart stutter, his mind scrambling to process and understand it. 

His wife. His love.

But the doctor’s expression remained grim. The weight of reality hit him before she even said the next words. “She didn’t want you to know… yet,” the doctor admitted softly. “She wanted to tell you herself, but… she didn’t get the chance.”

His breath caught in his throat, knowing she didn’t get the chance because she was already sick and slipping away. The time he had left with her was already running out.

In-ho’s breath hitched as he returned to the present, to the cold walls of the Overseer’s suite, to the woman standing before him — the one carrying his child now. 

But it wasn’t his wife this time.

It was you.

The one who had kept this from him. The one who had told Gi-hun before telling him.

“Why… why did I have to hear it from him?” In-ho’s voice cracked, raw with pain as the ache in his chest was unbearable. “Why did you let him figure it out first?”

You understood his pain. You understood why this hurt him so much. But that didn’t mean you weren’t angry.

Your hands curled into fists at your sides, your own emotions bubbling to the surface. “That’s what you’re worried about?” Your voice shook, not from sadness, but from pure, simmering rage. “That you weren’t the first to know?”

In-ho flinched.

“You haven’t even asked how I feel, In-ho!” You took a step forward, your anger now burning hot in your veins. “You haven’t asked if I’m okay, if I’m scared, if I—“ your voice cracked, but you pushed forward. “All you care about is that someone else found out before you.”

His eyes widened, guilt washing over his face. “That’s not what I meant—“

“Then what did you mean?” You cut him off, your heart pounding against your ribs. “Because right now, it sounds like you’re more concerned about your own pain than what I’m going through!”

The words hit him like a bullet. He opened his mouth then closed it. For the first time, he had nothing to say. Your breath was heavy, your hands trembling from the sheer weight of your emotions.

In-ho reached for you, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry.”

But you took a step back.

Your voice wavered, but the fire in your eyes didn’t dim. “Do you even hear yourself, In-ho?” You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze despite the tightness in your throat. “Do you know how much it hurts to see you care more about when you found out than what this actually means for us?”

You noticed his jaw clenched, but you continued to speak, stepping back as the weight of everything crushed down on your chest.

“If you don’t want this child, just say it.”

In-ho’s entire body stiffened.

“I can live with that,” you continued, your voice thick with emotion. “I can raise this child on my own.”

Frustration bled into his expression, his brows furrowing deeply. “That’s not fair.”

“Now you want to talk about fairness?” You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. “You know what’s unfair? It’s unfair that I had to go through this alone because I was scared of how you’d react. It’s unfair that instead of asking if I was okay, you made it about yourself. It’s unfair that I had to hear you break down over the fact that someone else figured it out before you rather than you asking me how I felt about carrying your child.”

In-ho rand a hand through his har, his frustration bubbling over. “You don’t get it, Y/N.”

“No, I do,” you said, your eyes burning as you stared at him. “And maybe that’s the problem.”

A heavy silence fell between you. 

Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, you asked the question that had been clawing at your chest for so long. 

“Do you see her when you look at me?”

In-ho stared at you, his breath hitching.

“Is that why you chose me?” Your voice trembled, but you forced yourself to keep going. “Because I remind you of her? Because I happened to walk into your life at the right time? Because I gave you something to hold on to?”

His eyes darkened with hurt. “That’s not—“

“Then prove me wrong.”

He stepped forward, his hands twitching as if he wanted to reach for you. “You’re not her,” his voice was low and insistent. “You never were.”

“Then love me for who I am, not because I remind you of someone you lost.”

“I do,” he said immediately, desperation clinging to every syllable. 

But you didn’t buy it. Your heart ached, your mind spinning, your emotions raw and exposed. And then, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the room.

You didn’t stop when In-ho called your name, even when you heard the sound of something slamming behind you, his own frustration boiling over. 

You just kept walking because, at that moment, you weren’t sure if you could bear to look at him anymore.

——

The next few days felt as if the air between you and In-ho had become suffocating, weighed down by everything left unsaid. You fell into an unspoken rhythm of avoidance — one that neither of you openly acknowledged, yet both of you adhered to. 

In the control room, you made sure to keep your focus on the screens, never lingering too long in the same space as him. If he walked in, you found an excuse to leave. If he spoke, you kept your replies clipped and professional, just enough to acknowledge his words without offering anything more.

During meetings, you sat across from him instead of beside him. Whenever he directed questions at you, you answered without looking at him directly. The once seamless coordination between the two of you now felt forced and fragmented.

You had been seeing the facility’s medical team more often — not because you wanted to, but because In-ho had made it happen. You overheard the rders he gave to the guards, low and firm.

“Make sure she gets regular checkups.”

The first time you caught wind of it, irritation burned in your chest. He wouldn’t talk to you, wouldn’t ask how you were feeling, but he was ensuring that you were being monitored.

You could have refused, but you knew better. The guards had their orders and there was no point in arguing with them. So, you endured it. You let the doctors examine you, take your vitals, and run tests — all while resentment simmered beneath your skin.

The nights were even worse. You’ve been sleeping on the couch, much to In-ho’s dismay.

The first night you did it, he stood by the bedroom door, watching you with an unreadable expression. He didn’t say anything or didn’t order you back into bed. But you saw the flicker of something in his eyes, something along the lines of hurt and frustration.

After that, it became a routine.

Every night, you would curl up on the couch and In-ho would hesitate. You could feel his gaze on you, heavy with things he wanted to say but never did. More than once, he lingered in the doorway, debating whether to wake you or at least sit with you. But you always made sure to finish your tasks early, retreating to the couch before he had a chance to do anything. 

The small gestures didn’t stop though. You started to notice the little things.

A warm blanket draped over you when you woke up. Your favorite tea was placed near your work station everyday. A chair subtly pulled out for you before meetings. A selection of nutritious meals appeared on your desk, all tailored for pregnancy.

In-ho never mentioned them or even took credit. But you knew. Yet each time, you dismissed it. 

Because kindness wasn’t what you needed from him right now.

Then one night, everything shifted. You had been working late, caught up in monitoring the latest developments in the games. By the time you finished, exhaustion clung to your limbs like a heavy fog. You made your way back to the private suite, your steps slow, your mind clouded with fatigue. When you pushed open the door, you froze.

In-ho was already there, but he wasn’t in the bedroom.

He was on the couch, his long frame stretched out, one arm draped over his eyes. His breaths were steady and deep, indicating the quiet rhythm of sleep.

Your chest tightened at the sight of him already falling asleep there. For a moment, you just stood there, taking it in. It wasn’t like him to fall asleep outside of bed. He was always composed and controlled. Yet here he was, exhaustion pulling him under in the very place you had chosen to isolate yourself.

And for the first time in days, you wondered if this hurt him just as much as it hurt you.

——

The phone rang twice before a quiet click sounded on the end. Gi-hun leaned against the desk in his private quarters, staring at the closed door as he lowered his voice.

“It’s me.”

A beat of silence. Then, the voice came through, hushed but sharp. “Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?”

Gi-hun smirked dryly. “I could say the same to you. You’re the one still breathing in their walls.”

A sharp exhale can be heard on the other line. “I don’t have a choice.”

“No,” Gi-hun agreed. “You don’t.” 

The silence between them was thick, stretching over the static hum of the secure line they had managed to establish. A stolen moment in the middle of a war they had yet to declare.

“What do you have for me?”

Gi-hun hesitated. Then, in a voice lower than before, he finally spoke. “She’s pregnant.”

“What?!”

“You heard me,” Gi-hun leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. “He already knows. Things are going to change. We can use this.”

“You’re not going to use her as leverage.”

“I don’t plan to,” Gi-hun muttered. “But you and I both know she complicates things.”

“Gi-hun—“

“Listen,” Gi-hun cut him off, his voice sharp. “I’m not heartless. I’m not going to put her in harm’s way. But don’t act like this doesn’t change everything,” he paused for a moment, then continued. “She’s carrying his child. That’s a weakness whether he admits it or not.”

Another exhale can be heard on the other line as Gi-hun sensed the conflict in it. “I need you to swear to me, Gi-hun. No matter what happens, you don’t kill her.”

Gi-hun closed his eyes. “I swear.”

“They’ve increased security in the lower sectors. I think In-ho knows something is off. We need to move carefully.”

“I know,” Gi-hun’s grip tightened around the phone. “We need proof. Something undeniable. When we strike, it has to be final.”

“Then we wait.”

Gi-hun nodded to himself. “We wait.”

----

The city was suffocating. After months of breathing in the sterile, artificial air of the island, stepping back onto the grimy, bustling streets of Seoul felt almost foreign. The neon lights blurred through the car’s tinted windows, the chatter of pedestrians muffled by the hum of traffic.

Gi-hun sat in the backseat, his gloved fingers gripping the mask resting on his lap.  He hated it, but it got him here. It got him past the organization’s watchful eyes long enough to set things in motion.

The car came to a stop in front of a dimly lit alleyway. He exhaled slowly, reaching for the handle, stepping out into the cold night air. 

Jun-ho was waiting. He was dressed in civilian clothees, the detective lingered near the entrance of an abandoned shop, his cap pulled low over his eyes. The moment he saw Gi-hun, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Thought you were dead,” Jun-ho muttered.

“Thought you were smarter than that,” Gi-hun shot back, stepping closer. His voice was quieter now. “We don’t have much time.”

Jun-ho leaned in, trying to listen.

Gi-hun took a deep breath. “I have a plan.”

Jun-ho raised a brow. “A plan?”

“I need you on the island,” Gi-hun said. “Inside. Getting evidence.”

Jun-ho’s jaw tightened. “You want me to go back? Are you out of your mind?”

“You were there once,” Gi-hun pushed. “You know how things work. I can get you in. But this time, you’re not sneaking around blind.” He leaned in slightly. “This time, we do it right.”

Jun-ho crossed his arms, skepticism clear in his sharp gaze. “And what’s your role in this? You’re their damn Frontman now.”

Gi-hun’s stomach twisted at the title. “I’m playing the long game,” he admitted. “I take orders. I follow protocol. I act like I belong.” He exhaled sharply. “And I wait for the moment we can tear them down from the inside.”

Silence stretched between them as Jun-ho searched his face, looking for any sign of hesitation. “You sure you’re not just becoming one of them?” He finally asked, voice laced with warning.

Gi-hun’s blood ran cold. He knew he wasn’t and he couldn’t. 

But before he could answer, Jun-ho sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “You already have a way to get me in, don’t you?”

Gi-hun nodded.

“Fine,” Jun-ho muttered. “Let’s do this.”

The island was just as Jun-ho remembered as he stood stiffly in the corner of a dimly lit locker room, adjusting the red jumpsuit over his body. The mask in his hands felt heavier than before.

He glanced at the reflective surface of his mask, a hollow, empty shape staring back at him. He was one of them now. Gi-hun stood beside him, already back in his Frontman uniform, the dark mask covering his face.

“This is your only chance,” Gi-hun murmured lowly. “Get what you need. Photos. Documents. Recordings. Anything.”

Jun-ho nodded once, slipping the mask over his face. They stepped into the facility’s endless halls as they made their first step into their plan — taking it all down.

——

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A/N: What did you think about the turn of events of this series? I'm very excited to see where this series is going. Now, I'm already plotting the epilogue as I've finished drafting the remaining chapters. Please feel free to leave out your thoughts here, and I'll gladly interact with each and everyone of you. 🫶

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TAGS: @machipyun @love-leez @enzosluvr @amber-content @kandierteveilchen @butterfly-lover @1nterstellarcha0s @squidgame-lover001 @risingwithtriples @fries11 @follows-the-life-ahead @goingmerry69 @plague-cure @theredvelvetbitch @cherryheairt @voxslays @thebluehair23 @coruja12345 @alliyah-ll @spiritualgirly444 (p.s. if i forget to you, please let me know)

son, you’ve got a way to fall

“this is for soap”

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

>> MASTERLIST

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——

The conference room was cold, as always. The walls were bare, the air thick with the ever-present scent of sterile metal and quiet tension. You sat at the head of the table, eyes scanning over the documents in front of you — the final preparations for the next round of games.

Gi-hun entered moments later, his black mask tucked under his arm. His eyes flickered to the papers, then to you. “You look well-rested,” he noted, settling into his chair. “That’s rare for someone in your position.”

You smirked faintly, about to counter when his gaze landed on your hand. Silence stretched between you as Gi-hun’s eyes locked onto the engagement ring on your finger. His expression was unreadable at first, but then he let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered. “Didn’t think he had it in him.”

You glanced down at the ring, your thumb brushing over the band. “Surprised?”

Gi-hun exhaled through his nose. “Not surprise that he asked. Just surprised that you said yes.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “And why is that?’

Gi-hun leaned back in his chair, tilting his head slightly. “Because you don’t strike me as the type to settle for a man who keeps too many secrets.”

The words cut deep, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you straightened your shoulders, meeting his gaze with unwavering resolve. “I know what I’m doing.”

Gi-hun studied you for a long moment, then gave a slow nod. “If you say so.”

There was something else in his eyes, something unspoken — but you didn’t press. Instead, you moved forward with the meeting, discussing the final arrangements for the games. Gi-hun played along, but you could tell his mind was elsewhere.

Though he never said it outright, you knew he was already calculating his next move. 

The air inside the management sector of the facility was cold, sterile, and suffocating in its silence. The hum of monitors and the faint shuffling of masked guards moving with precision added an eerie rhythm to the stillness. You had grown accustomed to the controlled chaos, the weight of responsibility that came with overseeing the very machine that dictated life and death within the games.

Working alongside In-ho had been a test of both your discipline and your patience. He was methodical, a perfectionist in execution, yet he had an unshakable presence that commanded respect without the need for raised voices. You had learned his habits — the way he tapped his gloved fingers against the table when he was in deep thought, how his sharp eyes scanned over the daily reports with meticulous attention, and the way he adjusted the high collar of his coat as if shielding himself from the weight of his own conscience.

He relied on you, not just as a fellow overseer but as someone he trusted. He never said it outside, but you could see it in the way he glanced at you when a decision needed to be made, in the way he shared information with you that others would ever be privy to. You were his equal in this twisted empire, the one person who stood beside him rather than beneath him.

But the work was relentless.

In order for the games to work, the contestants should be constantly monitored, the staff required strict adherence to protocol, and the VIPs demanded entertainment that bordered on madness. The games would be starting soon and everything had to be perfect.

One evening, as you made your way through the dimly lit corridors of the management sector, something unusual caught your attention. The sound of voices — low and urgent, hushed yet unmistakable. Your footsteps slowed, heart rate quickening as you recognized one of them.

Gi-hun.

That wasn’t unusual. He was the Frontman now, stationed here like you. But the other voice sent a chill down your spine.

You edged closer, ears, straining to catch the words. The cadence, the sharpness — it was familiar in a way that made your stomach drop.

“…If we time it right, we can take out the surveillance feed for at least an hour. That should be enough for extraction.”

“Are you sure about this?” Gi-hun’s voice was quieter, laced with doubt. “She’s part of it now. There’s no telling what she’ll do.”

A pause.

“She deserves to choose.”

Jun-ho.

You stepped forward, your breath caught between disbelief and anger. The moment you emerged into the dimly lit room, both men turned sharply to face you. Gi-hun stiffened, guilt flashing across his face. Jun-ho’s expression was unreadable behind the circle mask he wore, but you could feel his gaze boring into you.

The room felt colder. The weight of their words sank in.

“You,” you whispered, eyes locked onto Jun-ho.

“Surprised?” He asked, his voice steady.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to regain control. “How are you here?”

“That doesn’t matter,” his tone was unreadable. “What matters is that you have a choice to make.”

Gi-hun exhaled sharply. “They’ve been keeping things from you.”

Your fists clenched. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but betrayal isn’t one of my games.”

Jun-ho stepped forward. “Then why do you still hesitate?”

Your lips parted, but no words came.

“You still have your humanity,” he continued, his voice softer now, less like an accusation and more like an offering. “You can feel it, can’t you? This place hasn’t completely taken you.”

Gi-hun chimed in, voice laced with something close to desperation. “You think this is control? That you have a say in anything? The games don’t stop. They never will. Unless someone does something.”

You swallowed, the weight of their words pressing into you like a vice. Jun-ho took one final step forward. “You can either keep lying to yourself or you can decide to change things.”

The choice hung in the air between you, heavy and suffocating. For the first time in a long time, you felt truly, painfully alive. 

——

The walk back to the private felt heavier than usual. Each step echoed against the polished floor, your mind burdened with the weight of what you had just witnessed. Gi-hun and Jun-ho had given you a choice — a choice that shouldn’t have shaken you as much as it did. 

But it did. 

For the first time in a long time, you felt something stir inside you. 

Humanity or whatever was left of it.

Your fingers twitched at your side as you hesitated at the entrance, exhaling sharply before pushing the door open. You expected silence. Instead, you found In-ho already there.

The sight before you made you pause. He sat on the edge of the bed, his back slightly hunched the dim glow of the bedside lamp casting soft shadows across his face. But it wasn’t just his presence that caught you off guard — it was what he was holding.

The small fabric of infant clothing was delicate in his gloved fingers, and beside him, meticulously arranged, were items you hadn’t even noticed before — warm blankets, a baby bottle, small things that would be insignificant to anyone else but to you, they meant everything.

A glimpse of fatherhood.

You didn’t realize how tightly you were holding your breath until you forced yourself to exhale. The sight was so different from the composed, calculating man you worked alongside everyday. Here, in this moment, he was just In-ho. 

Not the Frontman, not the overseer of the games, not the enforcer of death and order. Just a man staring at the fragile reality of the life growing inside you.

“You’re here early,” he murmured, but his voice lacked its usual authority. He didn’t look at you, still fixated on the small piece of cloth in his hands.

You swallowed, stepping further inside. “You weren’t at the conference room. I thought you were still occupied.” You sat on the bed, watching as In-ho knelt in front of you, gently placing his hands over your stomach. His fingers traced delicate patterns over the fabric of your robe, his expression unreadable yet undeniably tender.

“I still can’t believe it,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

You tilted your head. “Believe what?”

“That there’s… life inside of you,” he admitted. His voice was softer than usual, filled with something rare—wonder, maybe even fear.

You reached down, placing your hand over his. “Does it scare you?”

In-ho hesitated before shaking his head. “No. Not in the way you think.”

“Then how?”

He exhaled, eyes flickering up to meet yours. “I’m scared of failing you. Of failing… them.” His gaze drifted back down to your stomach, his hands warm and steady. “I never thought I’d have this again.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, gently threading your fingers through his hair. “You won’t fail,” you whispered. “Not this time.”

In-ho leaned forward, resting his forehead lightly against your stomach, his arms wrapping around you as if trying to shield you from the world.

For the first time in a long while, the weight of the organization, of the games, of everything—faded away. And in that quiet moment, In-ho wasn’t the Overseer.

He was simply a man who wanted to be a father.

Silence stretched between you both, unspoken words lingering in the air like ghosts. Your eyes flickered to the items on the bed again before you found yourself asking a question that’s been lingering on you.

“What’s left of you, In-ho? What humanity do you even have left?”

His expression shifted — subtle, but enough for you to notice the flicker of something deep within his gaze. Something almost vulnerable. His lips pressed together, placing the infant clothing down with deliberate care before turning fully toward you. “I could ask you the same thing,” the countered, voice low. “You tell me, what humanity is left in you? After everything we’ve done?”

You inhaled sharply, but you didn’t look away. “That’s why I’m asking. Because… I don’t know. I was just reminded that I still have it — no matter how much I tried to bury it under power and necessity.”

In-ho’s shoulders tensed. He turned his gaze to the floor, as if searching for an answer he wasn’t ready to admit. “Humanity is a weakness in a place like this. It gets you killed.”

“Then why do you still keep things like this?” You gestured toward the bed where the baby things were placed. “Why do you still hold onto this if you believe we have nothing left?”

He was silent. The question settled deep within him, unraveling something he had kept tightly wound for so long. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, almost hesitant. “Because I still want to believe that there’s something beyond all of this. That despite everything, I still have a reason to keep going."

Your chest tightened. "Then you still have it," you whispered. "You still have your humanity, In-ho. You just buried it under all the hardship."

His fingers curled into a fist against his knee. "And you? Are you ready to dig yours back out?"

You hesitated, then finally sat beside him. "I don’t know. But I think I’m starting to remember what it felt like."

The room was filled with an unfamiliar quiet—one that neither of you had allowed yourselves to experience in a long time. And for the first time in years, you and In-ho weren’t discussing the games, the organization, or the next strategic move.

You were just two people who had lost themselves along the way, trying to figure out if there was still anything left worth saving.

——

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A/N: A bit of a short chapter today as I want to give my all on the last ones. I'm curious if y'all want a sad ending or a happy ending? Or do y'all want alternative endings? Please 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 @voxslays @thebluehair23 @coruja12345 @alliyah-ll @spiritualgirly444 (p.s. if i forget to you, please let me know)