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rimzaaa · 26 days ago

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The One He Kept

Oneshot! (Request)

Pairing: Older Man! Inho × YoungWoman! Guard Reader (Guard 11/, Y/n)

Fandom: Squid Game (오징어 게임)

Summary: They never had a label — just stolen nights and silent mornings. She told herself it was enough… until it wasn’t.

He never kissed her. Never spoke her name. Only used her — over and over again. But the moment another man looked her way…He remembered exactly who she belonged to.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content (non-vulgar. NSFW / 18+) Age gap(Inho in 40s/ reader in mid 20s) Power imbalance. Dubious consent (initially).Possessiveness/ Obsessive behavior. Verbal degradation. Dark themes. Emotionally manipulative dynamics. Mild violence/ rough handling. Toxic relationship element. Angst.

Author's Note: This one’s been sitting in my inbox for a while and I finally got to bring it to life. Hope it will be worth the wait. Also, I don’t write explicit smut with vulgar terms, but I always try to give you enough heat to make your heart race and your imagination run wild — without crossing that line. Don't forget to comment and reblog!

Word Count: 5.3K

Tag list: Let me know if anyone wants to join the tag list!

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

She wasn’t sure when it started — maybe the day he first called her into his office and dismissed the others.

“Guard 11, stay. The rest of you, out.”

Maybe it was that first night. Or the second. Or the tenth.

It was always the same.

He’d fuck her like he was starving. Like he needed her skin more than he needed air.

And then he’d walk away like it never happened. A silent nod. A locked door.

She told herself it was just physical. That she could handle it.

But that lie wore thin after the fourth time he kissed her throat like it meant something.

After the seventh time she cried in the shower and still showed up at his door when he called.

“You’re not in love,” she whispered to herself after every night. “You’re just lonely.”

But then why did it hurt like this?

Why did she keep waiting for a look — a touch — a single word — that never came?

He kept her.

He always kept her.

But he never reached for her hand after.

Never kissed her like she was anything more than a secret to be silenced.

And now…

Now she’s starting to wonder if he even remembers her name — or just the number sewn into her uniform.

•••

The hallway outside his office was cold. Sterile. Silent.

But the second the door closed behind her, everything burned.

His hand was already at her throat — not rough, not quite tender, just possessive — like always.

He didn’t speak. He never did. He just took.

Her back hit the wall with a thud. Her mask clattered to the floor. His followed a moment later.

Sharp suit. Cold eyes. That same unreadable face.

And yet when he kissed her neck, it was fire.

“Strip,” he murmured — voice deep, low, commanding — like a man used to being obeyed.

“I don’t like waiting.”

She obeyed, like always. And hated herself for how fast she did it.

He didn’t touch her gently.

He handled her — arms gripping her thighs as he lifted her effortlessly, letting her legs wrap around his waist like they belonged there.

Her back arched. She gasped his name.

“Inho—”

“Quiet.”

The sound of her own breath echoed against the wall as he thrust into her — deep, slow, maddeningly controlled.

Like he was savoring her, not loving her. Like she was something he owned, not something he cherished.

His lips ghosted over her jaw, her ear, her throat.

Hot breath. Cold fingers. That deep, cruel voice: “You like this, don’t you?”

“Being used like a good little secret.”

She bit her lip to hold back the sound. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

But she couldn’t hold it when he pushed harder — deeper.

His hand over her mouth now, muffling the cry he knew was coming.

“That’s right,” he whispered. “You only exist for this. For me.”

It wasn’t love. She knew that.

He never kissed her lips. Only her skin — her neck, her chest — like tasting her was enough, but knowing her was too dangerous.

But when it was over…

When he pulled away…

When he zipped his pants back up like nothing had happened…

She was left standing there — breathless, sore, raw —

…while he turned away without a word.

“Don’t get attached.”

That’s all he ever said.

But she already had.

And as she pulled her mask and uniform back on and stepped out into the hallway again — head low, cheeks burning — she wondered how much longer she could take being his shadow.

How many more nights she’d let herself be used… hoping one day, he’d turn around and stay.

---

She was gone.

The door clicked shut behind Guard 11, and the silence settled again — thick, heavy, suffocating.

Just the way he liked it.

Or at least, the way he used to.

In-ho—stood still in the center of the room, jaw clenched, the taste of her still on his tongue.

He shouldn’t have done it again.

She made him reckless.

And he hated that.

On the big screen in his room, players moved like ants. Guards patrolled in rigid lines. Everything ran with perfect order — because he demanded it. Becausee he controlled it.

But her?

There was nothing controlled about the way she moaned for him. Nothing disciplined about the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t watching.

And he always watched.

He knew her patterns. Her steps. Her tells.

The way she twirled the hem of her sleeve when she was nervous. The way her voice dropped when she lied.

She didn’t even know she’d given herself away the first night he had her — trembling under his touch, but leaning into it all the same.

He had warned her. Don’t get attached.

But he never told her the full truth.

That he already was.

That he’d chosen her the moment she’d taken off that mask in front of him, months ago, without knowing he was watching.

He told himself he only kept her around because she was useful. Quiet. Loyal.

But he knew better.

He knew this wasn’t love. It was something darker. Something hungrier.

Obsession is a quiet thing, until it starts to starve.

And lately, he felt starved.

Eventually.

There was only one camera feed he watched.

A small, grainy screen tucked in the top-left corner of the monitor wall.

Guard Room 11.

Her room.

She was sitting on the edge of the cot now, her mask off, hair messy from his hands, uniform wrinkled from the way he had pulled her into him only an hour ago.

She looked…exhausted.

But more than that — she looked empty.

In-ho leaned forward, resting one elbow on the desk. He stared at her image, unmoving, like a predator watching its prey through the scope of a rifle.

Slowly, his gloved hand lifted.

He traced the screen.

Not the air — the screen itself. His fingertip dragged over the lines of her shoulder, down the slope of her arm, lingering over the soft curve of her face.

“You always look like this after I touch you,” he muttered, almost fondly.

Then his voice dropped.

“Mine.”

One word. Whispered like a promise.

Claiming her — not with permission, not with tenderness — but with pure, cold-blooded certainty.

•••

Frontman — stood silently in the center of the control room, his boot planted on the floor with player photos.

Behind him, guards sat stiffly at their monitors, watching every grainy feed of the Dalgona game in progress.

But his attention was elsewhere — far from the cracked sugar and terrified players.

His jaw clenched behind the black mask.

Not because of the game.

Not because of the guards.

But because of last night.

The memory still lingered — the way she had trembled beneath him, her soft gasps echoing in his ears hours later.

And still, that hadn’t been enough to satisfy the gnawing ache in him.

Not even close.

He scanned the room slowly, eyes darting toward the corners, until he realized — she wasn’t here.

Where is she? He thought.

His brows furrowed, but just as he was about to ask the officer in charge, the heavy door creaked open — and in stepped Guard 11.

She was always quiet, always composed. She took her position behind him at a respectful distance, but he could feel her eyes on him.

As always.

He didn’t acknowledge her right away. He never did.

But after a moment, his voice broke through the tension — deep, clipped, and absolute.

“Come with me, Guard 11.”

Then he turned and left the control room.

She followed without hesitation.

By the time she stepped into his office, he was already seated on the leather chair, mask removed, crystal tumbler of whiskey resting loosely in one hand. He didn’t look at her. He didn’t need to.

“Lock the door,” he said calmly.

She did.

“Come here.”

Without a word, she walked toward him and stood between his spread knees. Her breath was steady, even if her chest rose a little faster now. She knew what this was. She always knew.

This wasn’t about love.

It never was.

Except… lately, something had shifted in his stare. There was a weight in it. A flicker of something else beneath the hunger.

“Kneel.”

She obeyed.

She took of her mask and her hands reached up, steady and slow, resting first on his thighs before trailing upward toward his belt. He didn’t stop her. He never did. His head tilted slightly, watching her every move like a man watching his favorite weapon being drawn from its case.

The belt clicked.

The zipper hummed.

She looked up at him.

He raised the glass to his lips and took a slow sip, his other hand brushing her cheek with his gloved knuckles. Gentle — too gentle for someone like him.

“You know what to do,” he murmured.

“You always do.”

And she did.

Because she wasn’t just another guard.

She was the one he kept.

The one he summoned when the world felt too loud.

The one he allowed to kneel before him — not because he needed it, but because she calmed the storm in him.

But today — as her lips touched his skin — something tugged at his chest.

A heat that had nothing to do with lust.

He stared down at her, her eyes closed in quiet submission, and something dangerous curled in his voice as he whispered,

“You were never meant to belong to anyone else.”

His grip in her hair tightened — not cruelly, but possessively.

“And you never will.”

She knew what effect she had on him.

And he hated that he loved it.

Her movements slow and warm, lips brushing over sensitive skin with a softness that made his breath hitch.

In-ho’s eyes dropped shut.

A sound escaped him — low, deep, guttural.

He placed the glass of whiskey back on the side table with a solid clink, no longer interested in distractions. One gloved hand gripped the armrest, the other tangled in her hair, guiding her with just the right amount of pressure.

His head tilted back against the chair, jaw clenched, breath unsteady.

“Just like that,” he growled. “Don’t stop.”

She didn’t.

She picked up the pace, using her mouth like she knew exactly how to unravel him, inch by slow, torturous inch.

Each movement made his stomach tighten, made a vein throb in his neck, made his grip on her hair tighten.

“You don’t know what you do to me, do you?” he rasped, voice heavy with desire.

“Or maybe you do. Maybe that’s why you’re always so eager to get on your knees for me.”

Her lashes fluttered, but she didn’t stop. If anything, her hands gripped his thighs tighter, her rhythm more confident now.

He looked down at her — flushed cheeks, glassy eyes, mouth working him over like she was starving — and something feral twisted in his chest.

“You’re so good like this,” he whispered darkly, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Obedient. Quiet. Mine.”

That last word hit heavy. Possessive. Cold. True.

And when she hollowed her cheeks, adding just a little more pressure, a sharp breath hissed between his teeth. His fingers curled in her hair, holding her still, fighting the instinct to lose all control right there.

“You like making me fall apart, don’t you?” he muttered. “You like knowing you’re the only one I call for. The only one I let this close.”

She hummed against him, and he cursed — a deep, husky sound from the pit of his chest.

“Fuck—if you keep going, I might actually start believing you belong to me.”

He laughed under his breath, but there was no humor in it — only need. Only truth.

Because she did.

Even if he hadn’t said it out loud, even if he never kissed her after. She was his.

And he wasn’t planning to let her go.

---

It didn’t take long after that.

With her lips swollen and eyes glistening from the intensity, she felt him tremble—his grip on her hair tightened one last time as a deep, shuddering groan left his throat. He threw his head back, breathing ragged and heavy, chest rising and falling.

She stayed still, eyes lifted to him as she always did, waiting—hoping, foolishly—for something more than silence and tension between them.

But the moment it was over, the change in him was almost immediate.

He blinked once. Twice. Then his features hardened.

That warmth in his gaze? Gone.

The soft tremble in his breath? Steadied.

The hand in her hair? Dropped.

He buckled his pants again and picked up his glass of whiskey, swirling what little remained like nothing had just happened — like she hadn’t just given herself to him all over again.

And then, without so much as looking her in the eye, he spoke.

“Leave.”

That one word—cold, flat, emotionless—sliced deeper than it ever had before. It always ended like this, always with him pushing her away like she was nothing but a tool to take the edge off. And still, every time, she came back.

But this time, her throat tightened more than usual. Her knees ached against the hard floor, but she didn’t move just yet.

She wanted to say something—anything.

She wanted to ask why he could touch her like that and still act like he felt nothing.

But she knew better.

She was just a guard. Just a body he used when he wanted to feel something… or when he wanted to forget.

Quietly, she lowered her gaze, fixed her mask back onto her face, and stood.

No words. No questions.

She turned on her heel and walked out of the room, heart pounding and chest tight, wondering just how many times she could take this before she broke.

Behind her, In-ho didn’t move. He just kept swirling his whiskey, staring blankly on the monitors across the room—where her small guard station camera flickered in the corner of the screen.

And still, he watched her.

Even after she’d gone.

Because no matter how cold he acted…

He couldn’t stop.

She was his favorite sin.

And he was far from done.

•••

It had been three days.

Three days since she’d knelt before him.

Three days since he’d touched her like she meant something—like she was his.

And three days since he’d thrown that single word at her like a blade:

“Leave.”

Guard 11 had barely slept since. Not because of her duties, but because every time she closed her eyes, she could still feel his fingers in her hair… hear his groan echoing in her ears… taste the heat of him on her tongue.

And now?

Now she walked the halls like a ghost.

She moved with the same efficiency, wore the same mask, responded to orders the same way—but her body felt heavier, like her skin didn’t quite fit anymore.

She hadn’t been called back to his office since. Not once. No glances. No hidden signals. Nothing.

She hated herself for waiting—for checking the hall whenever footsteps echoed outside the guardroom door. She hated how her pulse still spiked every time she passed the control room, wondering if he was behind that tinted glass watching her… or worse—ignoring her.

Was she just… done? Cast aside?

Used?

She’d told herself over and over that it didn’t mean anything to him. She knew that. He never promised otherwise. He never touched her with softness, never said anything tender. And yet—something about the way he used to look at her, like she was his only escape from the chaos, had made her hope.

Foolishly.

Pathetic, she thought, glaring at her reflection in the guardroom’s small mirror, mask hanging loosely from her fingers.

Her lips still looked bruised.

Her thighs still ached faintly from the last time he’d pulled her onto his lap and taken what he wanted, wordless and possessive like he couldn’t stop himself.

And now?

Now he couldn’t even look at her.

She knew what it meant. Maybe he was bored. Maybe he regretted it. Maybe someone prettier, softer, more obedient had caught his eye.

Whatever it was—it burned.

Worse than the shame of wanting him was the pain of being forgotten by him.

Her fingers tightened around her mask.

She hated this place. She hated these walls. She hated how her heart fluttered for a man who never offered her anything real.

And still…

If he called for her right now—she’d go.

God help her, she’d go crawling back.

•••

The metallic hum of machines filled the cold air as monitors flickered with the live feeds of the remaining players. Guards stood still, stiff in their pink uniforms, eyes glued to the screens—or at least pretending to be.

At the center, the Frontman watched with an unreadable expression behind his polished black mask. He hadn’t said a word all morning. He rarely did.

Then the door opened.

She stepped in.

Guard 11.

Her boots echoed across the steel floor as she entered the room. Everyone stiffened slightly at the sight of her. Everyone noticed the shift.

She walked forward slowly, stopping just behind him. Her voice was low, quiet—but not quiet enough.

“Do you have a minute to talk?”

The room stilled.

Every masked head subtly turned.

The air dropped ten degrees colder.

Frontman’s gloved hand clenched on his sides. His head tilted slightly, as if he was making sure he’d heard right.

Then—slowly, silently—he stood.

The tension in the room was unbearable.

Without a word, he walked past her.

“Follow me,” he growled under his breath, low enough only for her to hear.

She obeyed.

---

The door of his office slammed shut behind her.

She barely had time to process the sound before he grabbed her by the chin, forcing her face up toward him, his masked gaze burning into her.

“What the hell was that?” he snarled. “In front of everyone?”

His voice dripped with fury. Not just anger—humiliation.

“No one speaks to me like that,” he hissed, tightening his grip slightly. “Do you want to lose your mask? Do you want the whole damn guardroom to know what you really are to me?”

She flinched, but didn’t back down. Her voice cracked with restraint.

“You haven’t called me in three days.”

Silence.

His grip didn’t loosen.

His breathing deepened behind the mask.

She swallowed. “I thought I was just a toy to you. So why does it matter what they think?”

His hands dropped from her chin and curled into fists at his sides. He turned, took off his mask, pacing once, twice—and then spun back around.

“You are a toy. You’re for my pleasure, nothing more.”

The words landed like a slap. Her chest twisted, but she didn’t cry. She wouldn’t.

“Then use me,” she said softly, defiantly. “If that’s all I am, then stop pretending.”

He stared at her—hard.

Then he growled, reached forward, and grabbed her by the wrist.

“Fine. You want to be used? I’ll show you what that means.”

---

He shoved open the door of his bedroom and dragged her inside, closing it roughly behind them.

Dark curtains. Black satin sheets. Dim lighting. And a king-sized bed that had seen things no one would dare speak of.

He turned to her like a storm.

“Strip. Now!”

She hesitated—but not out of fear.

Because this was the only place she ever felt like he saw her. Even if it was twisted. Even if it was warped and wrong.

And so, with trembling fingers, she obeyed.

She stood before him now—bare. Vulnerable. Her breathing shallow, eyes flickering with defiance and desire all at once. It was a dangerous combination. One he’d never been able to resist.

Frontman removed his gloves slowly, methodically, and set them on the table with a soft thud. He didn’t speak as he walked toward her, every step deliberate.

Then he stopped—just inches away—and dragged a single finger up her bare arm.

“You think I forgot you?”

“You think I didn’t want to call you?”

“You think I didn’t ache to feel that mouth again?”

His voice was low and gravelled, a growl that licked across her skin and sent shivers to places she couldn’t name.

He leaned in, whispering just beside her ear—not touching, not yet.

“No, little girl. I didn’t forget. I stayed away… because I wanted you too much.”

And with that, his hands snapped to her waist and pushed her back onto the bed like she weighed nothing.

She gasped, but didn’t resist.

He climbed over her slowly, like a predator taking his time. His black shirt brushed her chest as he caged her beneath him, forearm pressing the mattress beside her head.

“Do you even understand what you do to me?” he growled.

She looked up, lips parted—but he didn’t give her time to speak.

His mouth was already on her neck, hard and punishing, kissing and sucking like a man who’d spent every minute of the last three days torturing himself over the fact that he needed her.

When he pulled back, their foreheads touched, breath mingling in the space between.

“You made me weak,” he muttered, more to himself than her. “You—you’re the one thing I kept coming back to.”

She reached up, fingertips ghosting his jaw.

“Then stop pretending I’m nothing.”

He paused.

Stared.

Then something in him snapped.

He growled, low and ragged, and flipped her over without warning—pulling her hips back, forcing her hands to the headboard.

“You don’t want soft tonight, do you?”

“No. You want the man you’ve been crawling to behind locked doors. You want the man who ruins everything he touches—including you.”

He wrapped his hand in her hair and leaned down to her ear.

“And you’ll thank me for every second of it.”

She whimpered when he yanked her hips back into place. Not from pain—no, from how deeply she needed this. How much she wanted him, even when he treated her like a possession, like a secret he refused to name.

“You only exist like this,” he muttered under his breath, one hand pressing her down. “Bent over, quiet, obedient.”

His voice held no softness. No affection. Just dominance laced with venom… and something buried deeper. But he would never let her see it.

“I own you in here. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Don’t lie to yourself now.”

Every movement was punishing. Precise. He didn’t give her time to recover, to speak, to think.

All she could do was feel.

She moaned into the mattress, her hands gripping the sheets like they might anchor her to sanity.

And still, he didn’t stop.

“Three days,” he hissed, gripping her waist harder. “Three days and you come in front of everyone asking why I haven’t called you?”

His lips brushed her shoulder now, hot breath making her shiver.

“You have no idea what kind of line you crossed, little guard. What kind of danger you’ve invited.”

She tried to turn her head, to look at him. She didn’t expect gentleness—but maybe just a sliver of what she felt from him when no one else was watching.

But he wouldn’t let her see it.

His hand wrapped her jaw and turned her face back down.

“No,” he growled. “You don’t get to look at me like that. This isn’t love. It’s consequence.”

But even as he said it… even as he bit down on her skin and left another mark to claim what he insisted was only a body for his use—his movements faltered. Just slightly.

Too slow.

Too deep.

Too much like a man who was falling, even while he kept telling himself he was in control.

---

Eventually, when the heat ebbed and silence filled the room, he sat at the edge of the bed. Quiet. Stone-faced. Jaw tight.

She didn’t say anything. Her body curled on the bed, bruised, boneless… but her heart?

Worse.

Because he didn’t look back at her.

Didn’t say a word.

Just stood up, walked to the door, and paused for a second. Not enough to give her hope—but enough to make her ache.

Then—

“Put your uniform back on,” he said coldly. “And leave.”

Just like that.

No warmth.

No apology.

No goodbye.

And as the door clicked shut behind him, she realized something she’d been afraid to admit—

He wasn’t just using her.

He was running from her.

---

The control room was empty now, apart from him.

A dim blue glow flickered over his masked face as the monitors played quiet shadows of the facility. The guards had retired. The games were paused for the night. But sleep? That was something he hadn’t earned in years.

One of the screens caught his attention—

Camera 12. East wing. Guard Quarters.

She was there. Guard 11.

Sitting on the edge of her cot, still in uniform, her back curled in on itself like a fragile thread. She wasn’t moving. Just sitting there with her hands gripping the edge of the bed like she might fall apart if she let go.

He leaned in, not even realizing he had.

And then, she did something he hadn’t seen from her before.

She wiped at her face with the back of her glove.

He froze.

Another wipe. Another quiet shake of her shoulders. A muffled breath.

She was crying.

Inho slowly took off his mask and set it down beside him, his jaw tightening. His knuckles whitened around the arm of the chair.

She never cried—not when he was rough, not when he was cold, not when he left her in that room like nothing had ever happened between them.

But now?

Now she sat there, crying over a man who refused to touch her unless it was under the veil of command… a man who couldn’t admit, not even to himself, that the sight of her with anyone else would drive him to murder.

He knew he couldn’t call her.

Not tonight.

Not after what he said.

Not when he still didn’t trust himself.

Instead, he reached over to the control panel. Hovered his fingers above the feed. But he didn’t switch it off.

He needed to see her. Even if it meant watching her cry over the absence of a man who would never admit she meant more than just pleasure.

He stared at the screen, his voice a raw whisper only the room could hear—

“I told myself I’d never break the rules… but you…”

His lips parted, eyes never leaving the image.

“You made me forget I ever made them.”

He leaned back, placing a hand over his mouth like he was trying to silence something threatening to come out.

But nothing came.

Just silence.

And her tears.

•••

Frontman stood still in the center of the control room, silent as always. His hands were folded behind his back, mask shielding everything—except the fire burning behind it.

Across the room, she was there—Guard 11.

Laughing.

With another guard.

Her shoulders relaxed. It wasn’t the kind of interaction that broke any rules. But it did something else.

It broke him.

He watched with clenched fists as his blood boiled at the sight.

He didn’t say a word. Not then.

But later, he caught her again—standing a bit too close to the same man. Talking. Smiling. Her head tilted ever so slightly like she was actually… happy.

That was it.

“Guard 15! Get back to your post. Now!”

His voice was thunderous, sharp, cutting through the silence of the hallway like a whip. The male guard stiffened and left immediately, sensing danger.

But Guard 11? She stood still, chest rising and falling. Silent.

He didn’t look at her again. Just turned on his heel and left.

She entered his dim office room the moment she was summoned. But before the door could even click shut behind her, he was there.

SLAM.

Her back hit the wall. His mask still on. His body crowding hers.

“What the hell was that all day?” he growled, voice low, animalistic. “You think you can laugh with him in front of me? Smile at him like that?”

Y/n’s eyes widened, breath hitching. “Why do you care?” she snapped back. “I’m just your plaything, right? You use me. You don’t even look at me after.”

His mask tilted slightly as if her words stunned him—but only for a second.

And then—

He yanked off the mask.

And without another word, his lips crashed onto hers—for the first time—hard.

The kiss was rough, bruising, hungry—his gloved hands gripping her waist like he needed her just to breathe.

And she—God, she kissed him back like she hated herself for loving it.

“Don’t—” he growled against her mouth, “don’t ever call yourself that again.”

He kissed her again. Softer this time. Slower. And then he whispered it—

“Y/n…”

She froze.

He had never said her name before.

“Y/n,” he whispered again, reverently now, as if it was something sacred. “You’re not just someone I use. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted. The only one I ever—”

He paused, forehead resting on hers.

“I need you.”

Then, without giving her a second to react, he lifted her into his arms—one swift motion—and carried her straight into his bedroom.

---

Clothes dropped like secrets, scattered on the cold floor. The air turned warm from the way he touched her now—not with hunger, but with reverence. Every brush of his fingers, every kiss he pressed down her neck, every breath he shared as their bodies tangled—was different.

There was no mask between them anymore. No orders. No control.

Only him.

Only her.

Only this.

And when she arched under him, gasping his name like it was a prayer—he kissed her. Deeply. On the lips. On the collarbone. On her wrist.

And when they collapsed—bare skin tangled in sheets, heartbeat loud in each other’s chests—he didn’t leave this time.

He stayed.

She rested her head on his shoulder, blinking up at the dark ceiling.

He spoke first.

“You were never just a guard. Never just a body.”

He turned his head and kissed her temple.

“I didn’t know how to love until you.”

She smiled faintly and let out a small laugh. “Took you long enough.”

He chuckled softly and turned toward her fully, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You belong to me” he whispered again, this time with gentleness, not claim.

Then he looked down at her—bare, warm, glowing in the low light.

“And I belong to you.”

515 notes · View notes

meadowfics · 2 months ago

Text

airport headcannons

kang no-eul x f!reader with features of mom!kang no-eul x stepmommy!reader x no-eul's baby

travel days with your wife always go according to plan

warnings: no squid games. reader isn't just a step-mom she's the mommy who stepped up (sorry continue reading)

you and no-eul always arrive at incheon airport three hours early, per no-eul’s strict itinerary.

she’s dressed comfortably yet nicely, a matching sweatsuit set with nice thick cotton material that is always black or grey.

you’re usually in comfy layers.

for example a soft cardigan, joggers, and sneakers.

no-eul insists on checking every detail at the self-service kiosk instead of going up to check in with an actual person.

your wife's fingers fly over the screen to confirm your business class seats to paris.

you lean against her shoulder,

“we could’ve done this online, love,”

she just hums, too focused on reading the tickets to reply.

you sneak a kiss to her cheek while she’s distracted, organizing the boarding passes.

no-eul's lips twitch into a small smile, but she scolds you softly.

“not here, y/n, people are watching.”

you grin, unbothered, knowing she loves it.

at security, no-eul’s personal and carry on bag is a model of efficiency.

all liquids are in a clear pouch, electronics neatly stacked.

yours is a chaotic mess of snacks and tangled earphones.

she sighs, helping you reorganize it after security while you steal a gummy from your stash and pop it in her mouth.

that earns you a playful glare.

in the business class lounge, no-eul sips an espresso, reviewing your france itinerary on her tablet.

you sprawl across the plush seat beside her, head on her lap, scrolling through your phone.

she absentmindedly strokes your hair, murmuring about the louvre’s opening hours.

you tease her about her insistence on business class, whispering,

“admit it, you just wanted to cuddle me, your lovely wife, in those fancy seats.”

she blushes but retorts,

“it’s about legroom, y/n, not cuddling.”

you both know she’s lying when she pulls you closer during boarding.

on the plane, no-eul takes the window seat.

she claims she needs to “strategize her jet lag.”

you don’t mind, slipping your hand into hers as the plane takes off.

no-eul's grip tightens slightly, and you trace circles on her palm to calm her nerves.

mid-flight, you share a blanket in your spacious seats.

both of your legs are tangled under it.

no-eul pretends to read her book, but you catch her stealing glances at you, her eyes soft.

you lean over, kissing her jaw while whispering, “you’re so pretty when you’re trying to focus.”

when seo-ae, no-eul's daughter from back home in north korea, enters the picture, things shift.

your first trip with your stepdaughter was to tokyo.

a four hour place ride.

during that trip, the two-year-old seo-ae stayed attached to you.

the toddler's tiny arms loved wrapping around your neck.

no-eul watched, her expression unreadable but her eyes warm as you bounce seo-ae gently while walking down the plane isle, humming a lullaby quietly.

eo-ae insisted on sitting on your lap during the flight.

the little girl's soft snores muffled against your chest.

her mommy, seated beside you, will adjust seo-ae’s tiny blanket with care, her fingers brushing yours.

“you’re good with her,”

she whispers, her voice thick with emotion.

in the business class cabin, seo-ae’s presence draws attention sometimes when she babbles or throws a crayon by accident.

no-eul, ever protective, shoots a sharp look at a curious passenger.

one of those, "don't try me." looks.

the woman softens when you nudge her, giggling.

“relax, love,”

you say, kissing seo-ae’s sleepy head.

during turbulence, no-eul’s hand finds yours, squeezing tightly.

you hold seo-ae closer, whispering reassurances to both.

no-eul leans her head on your shoulder,

“i don’t know how you stay so calm.”

you smile, kissing her forehead.

“because someone needs to before all of us.”

at baggage claim in japan, no-eul organizes the luggage while you entertain seo-ae, pointing out colorful japanese signs.

a stranger compliments seo-ae’s curls, unintentionally implying that the little girl was your niece or cousin.

your wife was quick to cut the conversation.

“she’s our daughter, actually. goodbye now.”

no-eul's left hand possessive on your waist and her right laying on her daughter's small back.

no-eul always booked a private airport transfer in new cities, refusing to deal with taxis.

in the car, seo-ae sleeps on your lap, and no-eul rests her head on your shoulder,.

you kissed her head softly, heart so full as you visited the new city.

at the hotel, no-eul unpacks seo-ae’s essentials with an old military precision (that she used to have from back in NK) while you collapse on the bed.

seo-ae naps beside you.

after organizing outfits for later plans, no-eul joins you.

she curls up close on the bed, her hand tracing your face.

“i love you,”

you kiss her deeply, the toddler's tiny snores the only present sound.

masterlist

#kang no eul #kang no eul x reader #guard 011 #guard 11 #squid game #squid game fanfic #squid game s2 #squid game season 2 #squid game x reader #squid game x y/n #squid game x you #squid game 3 #squid game season three #squid game s3 #squid games #squid game spoilers #squid game season one #squid game fanfiction #squid game 2

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ones-g · 7 months ago

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Yes, I can do both, please!!! a chance

cc: pr4das

#squid game 2 #squid game netflix #squid game #number 11 #guard 11 #kang sae byeok #player 456 #player 067 #gay!!!!!!!#el juego del calamar #kang no-eul #kang sae byeok smut

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mooniema · 5 months ago

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Period hcs | Squid game x reader

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ｡- ༝ -｡ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

featuring: Cho Hyun-ju, Ji-yeong, Kang Dae-ho, Kang No-eul, Kang Sae-byeok, Kim Jun-hee, Se-mi, Thanos

summary ; just some hcs for how I think the characters would act when reader is on their period, reader is afab, but I didn´t use She/her pronouns for reader

warnings ; shitty writing, mentions of periods and period sex (no description or anything though), reader has rather heavy period cramps

a/n ; this is my first request so i hope yall like it, I might write the one for Sae-byeok too or/and maybe make a second part on this if its wanted

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ｡- ༝ -｡ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

Cho Hyun-ju (Player 120)

She knows a lot about periods and how to help with them

She researched a lot about the female body when she started accepting her identity, so she knows how to take care of you

She brings you sweets and makes sure that your heating pad stays warms

She has pads and tampons in her apartment too and always makes sure to carry some with her

She gets protective and makes sure you rest enough and eat stuff, which won't make your period cramps stronger

Loves cuddling you, while you are on your period and often rests her hands on your stomach, gently massaging it

Uses a period app to track your cycle

Ji-yeong (Player 240)

I feel like she'd have rather strong cramps herself, so she'd have painkillers and a heating pad in reach for you

She also gets quite grumpy when she is on her own period and since you take good care of her, she returns that favor once you are on your own

If you both sync up and get yours together, you'll probably just stay cuddled up together under your blanket while watching each others favorite movies

Probably jokes around about helping you with your cramps with period sex

If you agree to that, she'd do it though

Kang Dae-ho (Player 388)

He has 4 older sisters so he knows a lot about periods and how to take care of you

And if he doesn't know what to do, he'll just aks them for advice

He makes sure he is always stocked up with painkillers, pads, tampons, sweets and anything else you might need

Also one to track your cycle with a period app

Makes sure to give you massages to ease any pain

Isn't really bothered by your mood swings because he knows you don't really mean it in a bad way and that you are just irritated from your period

He still takes everything that bothers you seriously and does not blame everything on your period

He also wouldn't let you do any hard chores during your period

Kang No-eul (Guard 11)

I think she wouldn't really have strong period cramps, so she wouldn't understand how you feel at first

After a while, she'd understand and do everything to help you with your cramps

Starts researching for ways to help with period pain

Makes sure to buy you painkillers and make you your heating pad

She'd try to cook healthier and include food, thats supposed to help with the pain

She'd also make sure you drink enough water or tea

Even though she isn't really physically affectionate on her own normally, she'd make sure to comfort and cuddle a lot with you

She'd also not let you do any hard chores

Kang Sae-byeok (Player 067)

I feel like she'd have heavier period cramps too and like she'd get a lot clingier, when she is on her period

Once its your turn with your period she'd take good care of you, doing your chores and making sure to reheat your heating pad if it gets too cold

Would also make you a lot of tea and healthier food

If you are on your period she gets more affectionate too

Whispering sweet nothings while holding you under your favorite blanket and watching something you decided on

Wouldn't be able to say no to any of your requests during your period

Would make sure you are well rested and not unnecessarily stressed

Kim Jun-hee (Player 222)

She is a sweetheart to you and this shows even more when you're on your period

Even though she currently doesn't need them, because of her pregnancy, she makes sure that there are more than enough pads and tampons in her house and she still keeps some in her bag for you

While she isn't really allowed to do many chores at the moment because of her pregnancy, she still helps you a lot when you are on your period

Also a fan of doing little things to help you de-stress, such as making you both tea and making sure you rest

She wants to give you the same care, which you give her every day

Se-mi (Player 380)

I think she wouldn't have heavy cramps, but she knows how bad they can get for others so when she first found out how bad yours were, she immediately made you a heating pad and drove to get you painkillers

She now keeps your painkillers stocked up as well as herbal tea, which is supposed to help

Also likes to prepare baths for you, while you are on your period and would then give you a massage

She'd also try to help you with your chores and would take care of you subtly like making healthier food in that week, reminding you to rest and drink etc

She'd probably bring period sex up to help you with your pain, but she understands if that makes you uncomfy

Thanos (Player 230)

I feel like this guy doesn't know a lot about them and that he'd think that cramps aren't bad at all

When he first sees how painful they are for you, he'd probably panic a little and then ask Se-mi or any other woman he knows for advice

If he went to buy tampons he'd probably ask what pussy size you have/j

He'd probably search a lot on the internet to find out about ways to help you

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missbellie · 6 months ago

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━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Ultraviolence- Kang Noeul

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pair: Kang No-eul × F!Reader

context: part.2 of my other imagine

warning: hair pulling, bad word (just one sentence), possessive and obsessive jealousy

words: 4,5k

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Two weeks passed. No-eul watched you walk past the store every morning, heading to the café in front of the clothing store, with only a road separating the stores. No-eul noticed that you worked there, simply because you came in at the same time as her, and left work half an hour after her. As soon as she noticed this, she started to leave work in a hurry and go to your cafe, sitting at the tables in the back, watching you work, every move you made. Everything watched by her. She also noticed that you hated your boss, because every time she spoke to you, you would give a fake smile and turn away, rolling your eyes. She loved watching you. It was, however, one afternoon that you finally noticed the woman.

You recognized the face, but you couldn't remember where it came from. Ignoring that, you walked over to the girl, smiling slightly. "Hi... Would you like to order something?" You asked, with your notepad and pen in hand. No-eul smiled slightly and replied, "A chocolate donut and a black coffee, please." You nodded, writing down the order. Before leaving, you looked at the girl and analyzed her, "You work at the store in front, don't you?" You ask, tilting your head slightly. No-eul's smile widens and she nods. "Yes, that's me." You bite your lip, smiling and letting out a nasal laugh. "What is your name?" "No-eul...And yours?" No-eul asks, leaning slightly over the table, curious "Min-young..." You answer and No-eul analyzes you "Nice name... It suits you" You blushed and smiled shyly "Your order will arrive soon"

You say, and head to the counter, still slightly red from the woman's compliment. She exuded a confidence you had never seen before, it was like nothing affected her. It both delighted and frightened you, in a way. You left it aside, starting to prepare the order for No-eul, and other pending customers. You just needed to finish those last few orders and your shift would be over, and you would finally go home to see your little dog, Molly. A sigh left your mouth when you realized your shift was over. You took off your apron and let down your hair, looking around the space, noticing that No-eul was still there, sitting on the same place. "We're closing... Do you need anything?" No-eul raised her head and smiled, standing up. “To take a girl home, if she accepts…” You raised your eyebrows in surprise, and lets out a nasal laugh, grabbing your coat. "I don't think she sees any problem with that..." You say, and No-eul smiles, walking towards the door. "Ladies first." She says, opening the door and making room for you to leave. You smile shyly, stepping out the door, waiting for No-eul.

We can say that these little "dates" were repeated for two months. No-eul was amazing to you: She wrote you letters by hand, your Fridays were spent at a restaurant you both liked, and your Saturday and Sunday mornings were lazy, with No-eul's wet kisses on her neck and shoulder. You noticed No-eul's jealousy. The shape bit the inside of her cheek whenever she saw you talking to someone she didn't know who it was - that is, everyone - This slight possessiveness was something you happily accepted, and sometimes ignored. The request for a date was not something surprising, after all, you were actually being treated as a married person. Over time, there were some things that bothered you a little.

No-eul started to get more jealous, checking her phone every day, even asked you to change jobs so she could "spend more time with you". She even tried to hire someone to walk your dog Molly so you wouldn't have to leave the house, but giving up your dog was not in the cards. Over time, things got...intense. One day, you were putting on your coat, getting ready to take Molly for a walk, when you felt No-eul grab your hair, pulling you back. You groaned in pain, and No-eul rested your head on her shoulder, and whispered in your ear "Where the fuck are you going, Min-young?" No-eul whispered in your ear, she seemed calm, but to you, who knew her quite well, you knew that there was anger in that whisper.You didn't have to say anything: Molly appeared, and barked, wagging her tail. No-eul understood and let go of her hair and took Molly's leash "I'll go with her, babe. You stay." No-eul said wearing her coat. It wasn't the first, nor the last time that his displays of love were a little... rough, so to speak. But every time she hit you, or pulled your hair, it was like a kiss. A real kiss of love. That's how you knew she loved you, in her own way.

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a/n: that one is so small, someone kill me, please

THAT'S IT BABIES, I'M ALREADY WRITING THE NEXT ONE

Hope you liked it, xoxo!

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#guard 11 #kang noeul #squid game #possesive love #kang no eul #obsession #obsessive love #agressive #ultraviolence #sapphism #sapphic

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yourlowkeyidiot3 · 3 months ago

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No-eul honestly deserves a better fandom. She was literally harassed and threatened with rape only for the fandom to just completely ignore it and even have the nerve to call her assaulters "attractive"

#squid game #kang no eul #guard 11 #tw sa mention

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babymangosworld · 5 months ago

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"I wonder what the guards do after everybody goes to sleep"

The guards:

#squid game #squid game s2 #dae ho x fem reader #gi hun x fem reader #player 456 #the salesman #squid game season 2 #guard 11 #gong yoo #gi hun x reader

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iludusyou-x · 6 months ago

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#squid game #seong gi hun #hwang in ho #player 456 #in ho #player 001 #the frontman #thanos #jung bae #jun ho #the recruiter #the salesman #guard 11 #sang woo #ali abdul #creator details at the end of the vid ♥️

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ladywatereton · 1 month ago

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Guard 011 and Masked Officer

The tension between guard 011 and the official commander was so💥🔪💖 and someone even commented that they would crawl back to him...🤡, plus he seemed jealous of her with player 246?😏

Anyway! Park Hee-soon and Park Gyu-young have the sauce and all the rest🫦

And I need fanfics of them URGENTLY! Come on Tumblr, AO3 and any other platforms writers!

Off: I really don't like 246, no matter how exciting his story may seem, because of the actor's "controversies" and I just wish people would stop shipping Kang No-eul and 120 with him. They don't deserve him🤢

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mayahawkesfirstwife · 6 months ago

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NEW ROOMMATE

PAIRINGS G!p Sub! Virgin! Kang No-eul x Fem! Reader

SUMMARY You are No-eul’s new roommate and you find out that she’s different from other girls.

WARNINGS Smut, blowjob, loss of virginity, unprotected sex (she pulls out!), praise kink, fluff at end, etc.

AUTHOR NOTE Lowk only posting this bc I ACTUALLY finished it and I love the ending it’s so cute. This is lowk long asf omgg!! :0 Sorry if theres any mistakes!!

You finally finished moving boxes into your room, you sat on your knees on the cold wood floor as you dug into the big box in front of you.

No-eul knew her new roommate was moving in today, she was expecting a weirdo but she opened the door and was literally met with a girl wearing a white tank top and the smallest shorts she’s ever seen while you were practically bent over a box.

She shut the door behind her and you turn to face her, face lighting up. “Hi! You must be Kang No-eul!”

She was already in love. Your face was even more beautiful than she could have ever imagined.

You stood up, “I’m Y/n.” You stick your hand out and she shakes it, “Nice to meet you…”

“Sorry about the mess, I’m trying to put my things up as soon as I can so it won’t be in the way for long.” You said, but you notice that her eyes are in fact not on your face as you spoke to her.

But your tits that poked through your white tank top. Maybe you should have worn a bra.

To avoid her gaze on them, you turn around and kept putting your things up.

“It’s fine.” She finally replies, sitting down on her bed.

She sat back and watched you like a weirdo.

★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★

She’d continue to do that weird watching as you do anything at all.

You noticed her gaze darken when you’d do certain things like rub lotion on your legs before bed, sucking a popsicle, change, or even lay on your stomach.

Maybe she’s just a pervert, you were weirded out at first but the more you’d talk to her, she’d continue to barely talk but you kind of loved how mysterious she was.

Soon you’d start to tease her purposely and she’d just shift in her spot, pulling on her jeans as if she had a literal boner.

One time you seen a bulge in her pants, she quickly put her pillow over it and it confused you, maybe it was just her jeans or something in her pocket?

You’d grow needy and horny for your roommate. You knew she felt the same way and you just wanted to be fucked by her at this point.

★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★ ☆ ★

Today you walked into your dorm and seen her hand under her cover, hand moving up and down as her head in leaned back against the frame. She was touching herself.

You clear your throat and she gasps, moving a pillow over her crotch that was already covered by the blanket.

“Shit, I thought you had class.”

“It got cancelled.” You lock the door and walk over to her, her bangs were stuck to her forehead and she was panting.

“Want some help?” You bit your lip. She looks away, face turning red.

“No thanks.”

You sigh, “So, what’s your problem then? You stare at me all the time like you want to tear my clothes off. But when I come onto you, now you don’t want me?”

“It’s not that…I promise. I’m just…not what you think, okay? I’m…different.” She said, it was the most she’s ever told you about herself.

“Different how? No-eul, I don’t care. Just tell me. Is something wrong?” You ask, rubbing her leg.

She flinches back, “It’s weird. You’re going to get grossed out if I tell you.”

“Well, show me, then.” You said, she sighs.

“Fine, don’t blame me when you run away.” She moves her pillow off her crotch area and pushes the blanket down.

She had a penis!

Not only that…it was fucking long and thick. Who the fuck could she fit that shit inside of?

“Wow.”

It was hard and the tip was red and sticky, leaking of pre-cum.

“I know, it’s gross and weird. I’m the weird girl with a penis.” She sighs.

“A fucking huge one.” You crawl into the bed.

“I wonder if it’d fit inside of me…what do you think? Hmm?”

Her face is shocked and she is blushing, she grows even harder.

“W-What?”

“Should we try?” You peck her lips and she whines.

You two start to make out, she was a great kisser. You pull back, “Have you ever done this?”

She looks down, “I mean…I kissed a couple of girls and one girl…jerked me off...but that’s it.”

“You never been sucked off before?” You hum, crawling down her lap. “N-No…”

“Can I be the first?”

“P-Please…yes.”

“You’re so fucking hot, No-eul…” You hum, wrapping your hand around the base and pumping it, licking your lips.

She groans, gripping your arm. “I-I…please! Put it inside your mouth, please?”

“Needy baby…” You suck the tip and she moans.

“I-I…just…yeah, just like that! O-Oh my!”

She grips your hair as you take her cock in your mouth, bopping your head up and down.

You look up at her, she whimpers as you hold eye contact with her as your lips are wrapped around her dick.

She groans loudly when the tip of her cock hits the back of your throat.

“F-Fuck! You’re really…huh! good at that!”

You gag once when your nose touches her lower stomach, you breathe through your nose and don’t stop sucking her dick as well as possible.

If it was her first time getting a blow job, you needed it to be fucking fantastic.

“I’m about to…fuck! I’m about to cum!”

Her mouth opens wide into an O shape, she gasps. “Fuck, fuck! Do I…Do I do it in your mouth?” She whined.

You nod against her, flattening your tongue on her cock while your head bopped up and down.

She groans, her hands tug on your hair as she came down into your mouth.

You hum into her, you swallow the warm liquid and pull yourself off her cock with a pop.

You gasp for air and breathe heavily, coughing and wiping your mouth with your arm.

“Fuck, you’re huge. My throat hurts.” You sit up on her lap as she looks up at you.

“That was…amazing. Thank you.” She pants, her hands grab your hips.

“Of course…” You blush, fiddling with your hands.

“Do you…want to do more?” You ask, she nods quickly.

“D-Do you?” She asks, you smile and nodded your head. “I do…”

You stood up from her lap and undid your shorts button and pulled them down and then you pull your pink panties down and she moves the blankets away.

You get back on her lap basically straddling her lower stomach, you pull your shirt off over your head and she stares down at your boobs through your pink bra.

She pulls the strap down, shyly as she looks up at your face as you smile and unclasp it with one hand.

You lean closer, letting it slip off and you toss it aside. You grab her hand and place her palm over your tit.

“Play with them, mmhm.” You nod, she shakily grabs the other boob and squeezes them.

She pulls her hands away and starts to suck on your nipples. “Fuck, No-eul…”

She looks up at you while her lips are wrapped around your nipple, she grips the other one.

“So good with your tongue…gonna have to show me what else it does later.” You giggle.

She nods eagerly, you moan when she pushed your hips back against her cock that rested on her stomach.

You rock back on it, your clit rubs against it and she pulls back from your nipple.

“Can I…put it inside? Please?” She asks, hands grabbing your hips.

“Yes, put it in, baby.”

She moans softly at the name and you lift your hips and look down, watching as she lines her cock up with your entrance.

She pushed the tip inside and glanced up at you as you hiss.

“S’warm…” You hum, she pushed about four inches in and you squeeze her shoulders.

“H-Hold on.”

“You alright? Is it bad? Should I stop?” She asks, you shush her. “Shh, it’s okay. Just give me a minute, mhm?”

She nods, you try your best to get used to her size, her cock was thick. Not only was it thick but it was about seven inches long.

“You can put the rest in now, it’s okay, baby.” You nod, she moans.

She pushed the rest into your tight pussy and she groans as you squeeze around her.

“H-Holy fuck! You’re really tight.” She says, looking up at you while you bit down on your lip, trying to get used to her size.

“You okay, Y/n?” She asks, you nod with a frown. “I’m fine, it’s okay.” You pull a few inches out and slowly slide back down.

“Oh, fuck! You’re fucking huge, you’re stretching me out.” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut as you continue to slowly pull most of her out before sliding back down.

She lays her head back, gripping your hips tightly. Your slow pace was driving her fucking insane.

She hissed when you take her whole cock down your pussy only to lift it back out and slowly slide down.

She digs her nails into your hips, “Just…please! Can you s-speed up? It’s driving me crazy.” She pants.

“Fuck, i’m so sorry…I just never been with someone so big…” You frown, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Baby, can you? Can you please just do it for me? I can take it. I just can’t do it myself yet.” You pant.

She swiftly flips you over to lie on your back, you moan when she pushed your legs open wider and holding them in the air.

She slowly thrusts into you, before she slowly sped up. Your moans and whines increase loudly.

“It’s so fucking good!” She moans loudly as you start to rub your clit.

“You fuck me so good…don’t you fucking stop!” You groan loudly.

She moans, gripping your hips while she buries her head in your neck.

“Is it okay? You sure?” She asks for reassurance.

You grab her hand, placing it on your lower stomach. Her eyebrows furrow.

“Do you feel that?” You moaned.

“Feel what? Oh…” No-eul looks down at your fucked out state.

You were taking her so fucking deep that it bulged through your stomach when she’d thrust hard.

“You’re in my tummy, No-eul. You’re so fucking huge!” You moan, she notices your rubbing on your clit, “C-Can I?”

You nod, pulling your fingers away and she used her right thumb to rub on your clit.

“Oh, yeah! That’s so good! You’re so good to me!” You whimper, head falling back against the pillow.

“You take me so well, oh f-fuck! It’s like you were made for me…” She whimpers.

“Y-Yeah? I was made for you, my pussy is all yours! I love to take your huge dick.” You moan, gripping the bed sheets tightly.

“F-Fuck! I’m so close, are you?” She moans and you nod repeatedly.

“I’m about to cum!” You whine.

“Cum around me, please!” She moans, you do just that, cumming around her cock.

She continues to fuck into you until she groans loudly, pulling her cock out to shoot her load onto your stomach and tits.

Fuck, even her pull out game was perfect. She was so perfect.

You both pant, she looks up at you all fucked out, hair messy, breathing heavily as your eyes are shut.

“I’m sorry, let me clean you up.” She grabs a pair of boxers and puts them on before going into the restroom and getting a towel and wetting it with warm water.

She comes back and wipes your stomach clean, you look up at her in awe, “Thank you.” You smile.

“Yeah, of course…” She blushes, you rub her face. “You’re not how I thought you’d be, No-eul…”

She shrugs, “Neither are you…” She replies, you chuckle.

“I really like you.” She admits, you peck her lips. “I like you too.”

“So…that means I can be your girlfriend?”

You giggle, “I would love that.” You said, she nods with a smile on her face.

You peck her lips again and move to sit up, your legs shaking. You sigh, “Could you get me something to wear? If I stood up I would fall over.” You chuckle.

“Oh, yeah, of course!” She grabs a T-shirt of hers from her drawer and hands it to you.

“Uh, you want some of my boxers to wear? Or like I could…get your underwear.” She seemed too nervous.

“Boxers are fine.” You chuckle, she hands you some and you put them on.

“Would you look at that? I think they are super cute!” You say, she nods.

“My clothes look really cute on you.” She says, you lay back on her bed, making room for her.

“Can we cuddle?” You ask, she nods, wrapping her arm around you and pulling you closer.

You pull the blanket over y’all and cuddle into her chest.

“Goodnight…” You hum.

“Goodnight, beautiful.” She whispers and you blush into her chest and shut your eyes, drifting to sleep fast while she held you.

#wlw #squid game kang no eul #kang no eul smut #kang no eul x reader #kang no eul #squid game no eul #no eul #no eul x reader #guard 011 #guard 11 #squid game smut #squid game

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rimzaaa · 25 days ago

Text

The One She Couldn't Resist

Oneshot! (Request)

Pairing: Inho/Frontman x Female Pink Guard

Fandom: Squid Game (오징어 게임)

Summary: They’ve worked side by side for years. Her job was to guard — not feel. But her heart didn’t listen. She always kept her mask on, hiding the way her breath caught every time he was near. What she didn’t know was that the Frontman had started noticing. And when their restraint finally snapped... it wasn’t her who gave in first.

Warnings: Intense unresolved sexual tension. Power imbalance (boss/subordinate). Emotional push and pull. Blood/injury mention (brief). Possessiveness & control themes. Suggestive scenes and dominance (no vulgar language). Craving & denial dynamic. Tell me if I missed any.

Author's Note: This was a request by @manager016 and I really enjoyed writing it. I don’t write vulgar or full graphic NSFW, but I love giving enough heat and imagery to make it all vividly intense without crossing the line. Hope you enjoy the aching buildup, the stare-heavy tension, and the final snap that made it all worth it.

(~~~) means next day or shifting of the scene.

Words Count: 4K

Tag list: Let me know if you want to get tagged in my future fics!

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

She knew it the moment she saw him —

That this man would be her undoing.

Back straight, breath steady, face unreadable behind the mask — she did everything by the book. Always had. Even when the book belonged to someone like him.

It had been nearly three years since she first stepped inside these walls. Her number, 11, had since become one of the most reliable in her unit. She followed orders, never slipped, and never allowed herself to feel anything she wasn’t supposed to. Not here.

But Hwang In-ho wasn’t like anyone she had known before. He didn’t yell. He didn’t threaten. He just watched — and somehow that was worse. The Frontman didn’t need to raise his voice. His silence alone made the air around her tighten like a noose.

She remembered the first time he called her to his office —

A routine formality, he’d said. Just to “acknowledge” each guard face-to-face.

“Take off your mask,” he had said flatly, back then.

She had obeyed. Slowly. And when her eyes met his — cold, unreadable, sharp — something fluttered and snapped inside her all at once.

She told herself it was nothing. That it had been nerves.

But even now, three years later, she still remembered the way his gaze lingered. Not long, not inappropriately — just long enough to make her wonder if he saw more than he should have.

Since then, she had seen him from a distance nearly every day. She had watched him in the control room, in the hallways, during the nightly briefings. And still, he never looked at her the same way twice. He remained the same unreadable man, shielded behind that dark, expressionless mask.

And she? She kept her guard up — in more ways than one.

What she didn’t know, however, was that somewhere along the line…

He started noticing her too.

---

In-ho had never cared to remember the guards numbers. They came and went, like pieces on a board — disposable, forgettable, mechanical.

But number 11—she was different. She had discipline. Poise. A particular sharpness in her stance that mirrored something he respected. That first day she had unmasked herself, her eyes hadn’t wavered. Not once.

Back then, he thought nothing of it.

But over time, his gaze began to drift toward her more often.

In the reflection of the glass. In the corner of the screen.

In the slight shift of her breath when he stood too close.

She didn’t speak much, didn’t linger longer than necessary — but he noticed. The way her shoulders stiffened every time he passed by. The way her hands fidgeted just beneath her gloves when she reported to his office. The way her eyes betrayed her mask every single time.

He admired how tightly she clung to professionalism.

But it only made him want to unravel it.

What she didn’t know was that her silence spoke loudest of all.

And lately, he had found himself listening.

~~~

She wasn’t supposed to stay late.

Her shift had ended over an hour ago, but she lingered by the equipment inventory, pretending to review supply logs that didn’t need reviewing. The room was quiet, everyone else dismissed. The only reason she hadn’t left yet was him — the man who’d been sitting in the control room alone since the end of the final briefing.

She thought maybe tonight, he’d leave early.

But he didn’t.

Frontman never broke routine. He rarely moved unless necessary.

He stood with his arms folded behind his back, watching the final footage from the day’s game.

And she? She watched him — from the reflection in the glass.

“Guard 11”

His voice echoed suddenly through the silence — smooth, deep, unreadable.

Her heart jolted.

She turned. “Yes, sir?”

“Come here.”

There it was. That quiet authority. That pull. She couldn’t say no to it even if she tried.

Her boots echoed softly as she approached the console where he stood. He didn’t look at her. Just stared at the monitor, eyes fixed on the footage of players being escorted back to their bunks.

“You stayed behind.”

A statement. Not a question.

She stood straighter. “I wanted to finish the logs.”

Silence.

Then, quietly, he turned his head just enough to glance at her through the mask.

“Remove it.”

She paused for half a beat. The same routine. Always the same formality. But this time… his voice had changed. Lower. Quietly laced with something unspoken.

She slowly unclipped the straps and lifted the mask off her face. Her breath caught the moment she looked up and met his eyes.

This time — he didn’t look away.

Instead, he took of his own mask and leaned forward, eyes boring into hers like he was reading something. Testing something.

She swallowed.

“You’ve been here a long time,” he murmured, voice quiet and unreadable. “Three years. No complaints. No errors.”

“I follow orders,” she said calmly, though her pulse betrayed her.

Another pause.

“You think I don’t notice,” he said suddenly, eyes still fixed on hers. “But I do.”

Her stomach twisted. “Notice what?”

“The way your hands tremble. The way you watch me when you think I’m not looking. The way you hold your breath when I speak.”

His voice wasn’t angry. It wasn’t smug. It was just… dangerously honest.

She froze. Her heart thundered in her chest.

“I—”

“You’ve kept your guard up for three years.”

He stepped closer. Not enough to touch her. Just enough to make the space between them heavy.

“But even a good guard… breaks eventually.”

Her breath hitched.

She should’ve said something — denied it, dismissed it, left — but she didn’t.

She couldn’t.

Because she felt it too — the slow, dangerous unraveling of whatever this was.

And he knew it.

He leaned down, just a little, until his voice was at her ear.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered. “And I will.”

But she didn’t.

Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

Because truth was, she didn’t want him to stop.

Three years.

Three years of pretending.

Three years of saluting him with steady hands when her knees were weak.

Three years of forcing herself to look away when his voice alone could wreck her nerves.

Now, he was close.

Now, he was watching her like she was the only one in this entire place.

“You’re not going to stop me, are you?”

Her eyes flicked up, but she couldn’t speak.

His fingers — gloved in black — slowly moved to cup her jaw, thumb resting under her chin, tilting her face up to his.

“After all this time,” he said softly, “I wonder if you were waiting for me to finally notice…”

His thumb brushed her bottom lip.

“…Or hoping I wouldn’t.”

She couldn’t take it anymore. Her lashes fluttered shut for a second as she breathed, “Why now?”

A slow, quiet breath escaped his nose — not quite a laugh.

“Because I’m tired of pretending too.”

And with that, he kissed her.

It was sharp, purposeful — not gentle, not soft.

It was like he’d been starving and finally gave in.

She melted into it.

Fingers curled into the front of his black coat.

The scent of him — sharp spice and aged whiskey — hit her hard.

Her mask slipped from her hand and hit the floor with a dull clink.

He kissed her like he was claiming something. Like this moment had been carved in secret, just waiting for one of them to snap.

And when he finally pulled away — breathing heavier than before — his hand didn’t leave her jaw. His thumb stroked the corner of her mouth where her lips were still parted.

“You’ve been good,” he murmured darkly. “But I wonder how long you’ll last… once I decide you’re mine.”

That word — mine — sent a jolt through her.

She swallowed, voice trembling. “What do you mean?”

He leaned closer again.

“I’ve watched you obey every order for years. Watched you hide every look, every breath. But I wonder…”

His lips brushed against her ear.

“Will you still obey when I make you fall apart?”

Her knees almost buckled at his words, at the heat in his tone that promised far more than discipline. Her breath hitched, cheeks flushed, and she had to grip the edge of the console behind her to keep standing.

But instead of touching her, instead of acting on the moment like her heart desperately wanted him to—

He simply leaned forward and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her temple.

And then he left.

Without another word, he walked out of the control room, coat swaying behind him, leaving her breathless and burning in the silence he left behind.

Her chest rose and fell sharply. Her legs were unsteady, her heart pounding loud enough to drown out the soft hum of machines.

She was flushed, shaken, and absolutely furious with herself for how badly she wanted him to come back and finish what he started.

But he didn’t.

He wanted her to crave it.

And god—she did.

~~~

It had been a few days now. The games had resumed. Players screamed. Guards stood in line. But beneath the surface of routine and rigid protocol… something else stirred.

She stood at her post, mask on, arms folded tight behind her back. But her eyes—sharp and alert beneath the mask—kept drifting. To him.

To the man who had whispered sin like a promise just nights ago.

He hadn’t touched her since. Hadn’t called her in. Hadn’t said a word.

But she felt him watching.

Every time he entered the control room, flanked by silence and authority, her spine stiffened with awareness. Her heart stuttered with something between desire and frustration.

And today was no different.

She stood by the monitors when he walked in. The air shifted the moment he entered—commanding, powerful, impossibly cold.

Except his eyes…

They flicked to her.

Just for a second.

Long enough.

Under the dark mask, her lips parted slightly—unintentionally. She hated that he still had that effect on her. That he knew he did.

Because of course he knew.

He didn’t say a word. Didn’t even slow his steps.

But as he passed her—

He smirked.

A slow, knowing, cruel curve of his lips—hidden from all except her. Like he could see right through the mask she wore. Like he knew she hadn’t slept right since he left her trembling that night.

She clenched her jaw and looked away.

He didn’t.

He lingered.

Long enough to savor her silence. Long enough to bask in the way her body reacted to nothing but a look.

And then he moved on.

Just like that.

Still in control.

Still untouchable.

But oh, he knew she was burning.

And that’s exactly how he wanted her—

Simmering. Silent. Starving.

~~~

Gunfire echoed across the island hours ago the next morning.

No one spoke of it, but the tension clung to the halls like smoke.

The Frontman had returned.

His steps were slower.

His arm—held oddly stiff at his side.

And his right shoulder—drenched in blood.

Guard 11 was on duty when she saw him.

Just a glimpse.

A flash of his black coat swaying.

A red trail—small, but clear—marking his path through the quiet hallway.

Her breath caught in her throat.

She didn’t think.

Didn’t ask.

Didn’t alert.

She followed.

He didn’t go to the infirmary. Didn’t stop. Just slipped into a restricted corridor no one ever dared to walk through.

She hesitated for only a second. Then moved.

When she finally caught up, he was inside a dim room she hadn’t seen before—unmasked, in black tank top, one hand pressing hard against his shoulder.

His jaw was clenched. His breathing uneven. His coat lay tossed on a chair nearby.

And he didn’t flinch when she stepped inside.

“You’re bleeding,” she said quietly, locking the door behind her. “Let me help.”

He didn’t reply.

Just watched her.

She walked forward, took off her mask, fingers trembling as she reached for the first aid kit on the shelf. Her hands worked automatically—scissors, gauze, antiseptic.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he finally said, voice lower than usual. Almost hoarse.

“Then tell me to leave,” she whispered.

He didn’t.

Instead, he exhaled. Deep. Controlled.

She worked in silence—pressing the gauze, cleaning the wound, her breath hitching each time her fingers brushed his skin.

And then—

“You remember what I said that night?” he rasped, eyes fixed on her face.

Her hands paused.

She nodded slowly.

“Then hear me now.”

He grabbed her wrist gently but firmly—guiding her hand to rest flat against his chest.

“I need you.”

The room turned heavy.

Time bent around them.

She could feel his heartbeat, racing beneath her palm. Fast. Erratic.

And when he leaned in—

It wasn’t to kiss.

It was to devour.

His lips brushed against her ear. “Come with me.”

She didn’t get the chance to answer.

Because a moment later, he took her wrist and began pulling her through the hallway — quiet, commanding, unhurried — until they reached the door she’d never seen him enter with anyone before.

His private room.

The one guards only whispered about behind closed doors.

He opened it and guided her in — the door locking behind them with a soft click that sent chills down her spine. She had never been in here. No one had. No one dared.

But now she stood in the center of the Frontman’s private room — quiet, dimly lit, lined with dark bookshelves, a low-burning fire in the corner, and a thick carpet beneath her boots that muffled every step.

She turned slowly, eyes trying not to linger too long on him. But it was impossible.

He kept his eyes on her.

Still, he didn’t say anything.

And then — finally — he walked to her.

She didn’t flinch. She held her breath instead.

“You’ve always followed the rules,” he said, voice low. “Even when your eyes betrayed you.”

He stopped in front of her.

“But this room,” he added, his fingers reaching to unzip the top of her uniform, “has no rules.”

Her heart slammed in her chest.

“And you…” he said, brushing his knuckles over her jaw, “you’ve always looked like you were waiting for someone to ruin your discipline.”

She exhaled shakily.

His hand slid behind her neck, pulling her close enough that she could feel the heat of him.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

The word fell from her lips too fast. Too desperate.

He smiled — dark, knowing.

“Good girl.”

She gasped. That phrase… from him… it cracked something wide open inside her.

He walked her back slowly, never once breaking eye contact, until her knees hit the bed behind her and she sat down without protest. His hand still held her jaw, thumb moving in slow strokes across her cheekbone, as if he was memorizing her.

He leaned in and looked at her. Really looked.

And then he crouched in front of her — the powerful, feared Frontman — on his knees, like he was devouring her with his eyes alone.

“You hide your feelings well, guard eleven,” he murmured, tone dipping darker. “But I see you. I always have.”

She couldn’t hold it in any longer. Her voice came out soft. “Then why did you wait so long?”

His gaze lifted to hers again.

“Because I needed to know you could take it.”

“Take what?”

He took her hand. Brought it to his chest where his heart was pounding beneath the fabric of his tank top.

“Everything I’ve been holding back.”

He leaned down, mouth brushing her temple, then her cheek, then dangerously close to her lips.

“If you want me to stop…” he whispered, “you say it now.”

She shook her head.

And that was all he needed.

In the next moment, he pulled her up in the center of the bed, hovering above her, hands gripping her waist tight, and brought her mouth to his — kissing her like he was starving. All tongue and heat and years of unspoken tension bursting out all at once.

His hands were in her hair, her uniform was already loosening under his command, and she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop.

She didn’t want to stop.

He pinned her on the mattress of the bed.

One hand tangled in her hair. The other braced beside her head. His mouth hovered above hers, breath ragged.

He forgot about the wound or the pain in the heat of the moment.

“You want me to say it?” he growled against her lips. “You’re not just another guard. You’re the one I’ve kept. The one I watched. The one I couldn’t fucking touch—until now.”

Then, he kissed her. But this time not with hunger. With possession.

Like she was the only thing in this world he ever craved.

And when he wrapped her legs around his waist—hands gripping her thighs—there was no mask between them anymore.

Only heat.

Only need.

Only the echo of what he’d already promised.

“You’re mine.”

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