Series!

Chapter Four: Under His Control

Pairing: Dark!Inho (Frontman) x Fem! Reader (y/n)

Fandom: Squid Game (오징어 게임)

Summary: Y/n barely makes it through the second game, her nerves fraying as the games grow deadlier. What she doesn't know is that someone—hidden in the shadows—has been pulling strings, keeping her safe, protecting her like a treasured possession. But protection in this place comes at a cost… and she may soon learn what it means to be under his control.

Warnings: Dark themes, obsession, possessive behavior, implied violence, implied threat of assault (non-explicit), canon-typical death, psychological manipulation, intense emotions.

Author's Note: Thank you for all the love on this series— we are just getting started.

Words Count: 2036

Tag list: Want to get tagged? Lemme know in the comments.

@salesmancarddd @marymun @astronomicalastro-blog1 @filthygalli @thehellhaveubeenloca @yosoylaprincesa2004 @watasinekoru @nightlark100 @drewstarkeysrightarm @doodle-with-rhy @lunaryoongie @ilovehwanginho @yxluana @sammie217 @sammat97

The next day began with the same blinding white lights and soft, eerie music echoing through the large hall.

Y/n had barely slept. The screams from the first game still echoed in her ears, and every time she closed her eyes, she saw red. So instead, she just stared up at the giant glass piggy bank hanging from the ceiling — the one now slowly filling with stacks of money. It gleamed under the lights, cruelly beautiful.

And away, in the dim warmth of his private office, In-ho sat on the edge of his leather couch, staring at the same screen. The camera had zoomed in on her — curled up on a lower bunk bed, eyes wide open, fixated on the fortune above her.

How could he sleep…

When his entire world was wide awake?

With a loud hiss, the heavy metal doors creaked open, breaking the morning silence in the hall. A group of guards in pink jumpsuits entered with cold, mechanical precision, pushing trolleys loaded with breakfast — plain bread and boxed milk.

The players moved like ghosts, forming a line to receive their rations.

Y/n took her share and silently walked back to her bunk. She sat down, her fingers trembling slightly as she opened the plastic wrapping of the bread and tore a small piece off. She forced it past the tightness in her throat and washed it down with a sip of milk.

But then —

She paused. Her stomach twisted. The sound of gunshots from yesterday echoed again in her head.

The bread suddenly tasted like ash.

She quietly set it aside and pressed her palms to her eyes, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill. Her breath shook. Her heart ached. She wanted to scream, to run — but she had no choice now. She had to survive.

Back in his private quarters, In-ho’s eyes narrowed as he watched her.

The food was untouched. Her expression hollow.

His jaw clenched.

Without looking away from the monitor, he reached over and grabbed the walkie-talkie from the side table. His voice came low, cold, and sharp

“Make sure she chooses the easy one in the next game. If she doesn’t… help her.”

He didn’t need to say her name.

They already knew who she was.

Player 222.

---

Y/n stepped into the game room alongside the other players, her steps uncertain, yet alert. Her eyes scanned the wide, sterile space — and then they landed on the wall ahead. Four shapes were displayed in bold outlines: A circle, an umbrella, a star, and a triangle.

In front of each shape stood a long table, behind which guards in pink uniforms waited silently, their gloved hands resting near small round tins.

Y/n furrowed her brows.

What game was this supposed to be? She thought.

Before she could think further, the familiar robotic voice rang out overhead, sharp and soulless

“The next game will begin shortly. Please stand in front of one shape on the wall.”

A ripple of confusion spread through the players. But quickly, panic gave way to instinct, and they began shuffling into lines — some in front of the umbrella, others crowding near the star, triangle, and circle.

Y/n stood frozen, thinking. Her heart pounded in her chest.

And then, it clicked.

Her lips parted, and she mouthed the word under her breath—

“Dalgona.”

The realization struck her like a bullet.

The shapes. The tins. The guards.

This was the infamous sugar honeycomb challenge.

She didn’t hesitate a second longer. Her feet moved fast toward the triangle — the easiest shape to carve without breaking.

Across the compound, deep in the quiet shadows of his private room, In-ho sat before the screen, eyes fixed on her.

He saw the flicker of recognition in her eyes… the speed with which she analyzed and reacted.

And the satisfied smirk slowly spread on his face.

He leaned forward, poured himself a glass of whiskey, and swirled it with calculated ease.

“So…” he murmured darkly, voice low like a secret,

“Your police instincts are still working… beautiful.”

He chuckled to himself, the sound quiet and laced with pride.

Then leaned back on his leather couch, one leg crossed casually over the other, eyes never leaving the screen — his drink in one hand, the other draped across the armrest like a king surveying his kingdom.

A kingdom where only one thing mattered to him anymore.

Her.

---

The final seconds ticked down.

Y/n’s hands were cramping now, knuckles white from tension, but her gaze stayed sharp, needle working with steady control.

Then — crack.

Not hers.

A man beside her gasped.

BANG.

Blood splattered onto her sleeve, warm and metallic. She froze for just a second, throat tightening.

But then her needle traced the last edge of the triangle — clean, unbroken.

It was done.

She blinked rapidly and slowly lifted the tin, showing it to the masked guard standing near her. He examined it in silence, then gave a single nod.

She had passed.

A pink-gloved hand gestured for her to move to the side. She stood up on shaky legs and stumbled toward the exit doors. Her body felt like it might give out at any moment, heart still hammering from the gunshots — and the victory.

Up in the private room, In-ho had stood frozen for the final minute, not even realizing he’d held his breath until she passed.

He exhaled deeply now, a sound between relief and obsession escaping him.

“Good girl,” he whispered darkly, voice low and hoarse. “You survived.”

The game ended.

More than half of the players were gone. The walls were splattered with blood. Tin trays and needles lay abandoned in the sand beside lifeless hands.

And then — the familiar mechanical click-click echoed from above. The massive golden piggy bank began to descend again, lights flashing.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

Money dropped into it — thick, heavy stacks of won — blood-earned, blood-soaked.

Y/n watched it fill from the ground floor, her arms folded around herself, lips pressed together tightly. That money was never going to wash the blood off her memories.

---

It was lunch time now, the metal doors hissed open again and in came the pink guards with steel trays.

This time it was a single hard-boiled egg, a soda bottle, and a small, square rice cake. Basic. Cold. Tasteless.

The players lined up.

Y/n accepted her tray, hands still trembling. She glanced down at the food, but hunger had long left her body. The egg reminded her of the gunshots. The soda reminded her of the blood. And the rice cake just sat there like a silent taunt.

She picked at it slowly and sat alone.

Up above, In-ho watched her in silence — always watching. He hadn’t touched his drink since she’d passed the game. There was a strange stillness in him now, like a storm waiting for the next crack of thunder.

She voted X again.

She didn’t want to stay. He knew she wouldn’t.

The second round of voting had been announced shortly after lunch.

Each player was called, the same two buttons lit up on the wall — O to stay, X to leave.

Y/n stood before the panel.

Her hand hovered.

A part of her wanted to run. She had survived two games already. That money, divided among the remaining players… maybe it could still be enough to pay her debts. Maybe she could still have a chance at life.

She pressed X.

She didn’t even hesitate this time.

But when the final tally of votes was displayed…

Majority had chosen to stay.

Again.

A loud murmur spread in the room. Some screamed. Some cursed. Some simply collapsed against the bunk beds, covering their faces.

Y/n sat back on her lower bunk, lips parted in disbelief. She stared down at her hands. They were sticky with sugar, blood… and now guilt.

She didn’t want this.

She didn’t choose this.

But she had no choice but to play.

---

And far above her — in the darkened room with a bug screen infront of him— In-ho stood still again.

He had watched her vote. Had watched the tears in her eyes as she saw the results.

He should’ve felt victorious.

She was staying.

But something inside him twisted painfully.

He wanted her to stay… but not like this.

Not suffering. Not terrified.

He brought the glass of whiskey to his lips but didn’t drink. His eyes stayed locked on her curled form on the bed.

“You’ll thank me later,” he whispered, running his thumb along the rim of the glass. “When it’s all over. When you’re finally… in my arms.”

A soft, cold chuckle left him.

“Safe.”

---

The room was dimly lit as the robotic voice had already announced lights out thirty minutes ago.

Y/n slowly climbed down from her bunk bed, her body stiff and tired, and quietly made her way toward the door tucked in the corner of the room. She knocked gently.

A small metal window In the door slid open, revealing the blank, faceless mask of a pink guard on night duty.

“I need to use the bathroom,” she whispered.

The guard shook his head. “No one is allowed to use the bathroom after lights out.”

Y/n sighed in frustration. “But I really need to go. Please.”

Up in his private surveillance room, In-ho clenched his jaw.

He had been watching.

Every second.

Every move.

Without hesitation, he grabbed the walkie-talkie connected directly to that hallway guard’s earpiece.

His voice was a low growl of controlled rage.

“Are you new… or do you have a death wish?”

“Who the fuck are you to deny her?”

“Open the damn door!”

The guard immediately stood straight, startled. He unlocked the door without another word.

Y/n blinked, confused by the sudden change — but she didn’t think much of it… not yet.

She slipped past him and walked toward the bathroom area.

---

A few minutes later, she returned to the sleeping hall.

The atmosphere had shifted.

Some players were watching her now… eyes tracking her movement like hungry wolves.

One man in particular — Player 315, rough-faced and probably in his mid-thirties — walked past her, brushing his shoulder against hers with deliberate force.

He walked straight to the guard and knocked.

“I need to use the bathroom.”

The guard didn’t respond.

“What the hell?” Player 315 hissed. “She gets to go but I don’t? Why?”

He turned to Y/n, a crooked smile spreading on his face as he stepped closer.

“Why did he let you go, huh? You offer him something?”

Y/n glared, her blood boiling. “What the hell did you just say?”

He laughed under his breath. “Come on. Did you agree to please him a little? Huh? That’s how things work here, right?”

She raised her hand to slap him, but he caught her wrist mid-air.

And that… was the last straw.

In-ho was already on his feet, his glass of whiskey shattering on the floor as it slipped from his gloved hand.

He grabbed the walkie-talkie, voice shaking with fury.

“WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU ALL?”

“DO YOU WANT ME TO GO DOWN THERE MYSELF?”

Within seconds, the guards burst through the doors.

Two of them shoved Player 315 back, but he pushed one of them in return — a stupid mistake.

A rifle was instantly raised toward him, and the man’s bravado vanished.

“W-Wait! Wait, I’m sorry! Please—don’t—don’t kill me!”

The guards lowered their weapons, giving him a final shove before letting him go. He stumbled back to his bunk, eyes wide with panic.

Y/n stood still, shocked, confused by the sudden chaos — but she assumed it was just because the man had pushed a guard. She had no idea the order had come from someone far more dangerous.

Someone watching her. Possessively. Obsessively.

In-ho stood in front of the screen, hands clenched at his sides, chest heaving.

He picked up the walkie-talkie again, voice low and venomous.

“I want Player 315 dead.”

---

The familiar childish tune echoed across the room as the overhead lights blinked on the next morning

Y/n stirred, blinking against the brightness. Around her, the other players whispered anxiously to one another.

She sat up slowly, brows furrowed.

And then—

She froze.

This place is full of cute girls! 💕

-KANG DAE HO X FEM!READER

WOOOO SECOND DAE HO FIC OF MINEEE(ilhsm) HOPE U ENJOY!

TAGS

Reader and dae ho are both in squid game... uh no warnings except swearing and player EUGH 100

NOTE:

This is really long, since i made this while rewatching squid game s2 lmao. Also your kinda like sae-byeok but more chalant also this is really longU^ェ^U (did not expect this to turn into a series)

WORD COUNT:2,15k!

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