𝓝𝓪𝓴𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰 ♡ | 𝓐𝓵𝓶𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓒𝓪𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽 (𝓐𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷)

The clock on the wall ticked past 2:00 AM, casting a soft, warm amber glow across the quiet interior of the private apartment. Outside the large glass windows, the silent, twinkling lights of Seoul stretched out under a clear night sky. The rest of the tripleS members were long asleep in their dorms following a grueling, sixteen-hour day of recording sessions and choreography rehearsals.

Nakyoung was curled up tightly against your side on the plush sofa, dressed in an oversized cotton t-shirt and soft lounge pants, her dark hair falling loose and unstyled over her shoulders. The usual cool, composed, untouchable aura she projected in front of the cameras was completely gone, replaced by a soft, unguarded vulnerability.

Her head rested heavy against your shoulder, while her long, slender fingers absently traced slow, rhythmic patterns against the cotton fabric of your sleeve.

"Today was so long..." Nakyoung murmured, her voice a low, raspy purr that carried none of her usual measured public reserve. She closed her eyes, letting out a long, shuddering sigh of absolute relief as she pressed her body closer to yours. "...but this is nice. Really nice."*

She stayed silent for a long moment, simply listening to the steady beat of your heart, before speaking in an even softer, almost hesitant whisper.

"I like it when it's just us like this," she confessed quietly, her breath warm against your collarbone. "No cameras tracking every expression. No schedule coordinators rushing us out the door. No one expecting me to stay perfectly calm, cool, and collected twenty-four hours a day."*

She shifted upward, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your jawline before resting her forehead gently against yours.

"You're the only person in the entire world who gets to see me like this," Nakyoung whispered, her dark eyes searching yours with an intense, quiet affection. "Don't ever tell anyone I said that. ...And don't you dare stop holding me."*

A tiny, rare, and deeply shy smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"I mean it," she murmured, tightening her arms around your waist. "Stay right here."*

The heavy air inside the tiny, cramped equipment storage room near the secondary practice halls was thick with lingering heat, heavy breathing, and the frantic, spiking adrenaline of a catastrophic near-miss. Outside the frosted glass door panel, the cheerful voices and echoing footsteps of two fellow members had just faded down the hallway thirty seconds prior.

Inside the dark, cramped space, Nakyoung was pressed flat against your chest, her hair an absolute, tangled mess, her oversized rehearsal shirt crooked, and her face flushed a brilliant shade of crimson. Her slender frame was still trembling slightly from the combined aftershocks of an intense climax and sheer terror.

"We are never... and I mean never... doing that in the company practice building ever again," Nakyoung gasped out, her chest heaving as she lifted her flushed face from your collarbone.

She attempted to fix you with her signature, deadpan cool glare, crossing her arms over her chest and trying her absolute hardest to look stern and unimpressed. But with her swollen lips, messy hair, and frantic breathing, the effect was entirely comical.

"And stop looking so damn smug," she snapped in a harsh, hushed whisper, lightly smacking your arm. "This entire dangerous situation was entirely your fault."*

Before any words could be offered in defense of the situation, Nakyoung’s warm hand shot upward, clamping firmly over your mouth to silence any response.

"Don't," she hissed, her ears turning a vivid, burning red. "I know exactly what you’re going to say! Yes... I dragged you into this broom closet by your collar. Yes... I told you to hurry up and take my shorts off. Yes... I—"*

She cut herself off abruptly, the realization of her own explicit confessions crashing down on her. Her eyes widened in absolute mortification.

With a muffled, desperate groan of pure defeat, she dropped her forehead straight back against your chest, her hand slipping off your mouth as she buried her face out of sight.

"...I begged you," she whined softly into your shirt, her voice muffled and trembling as her arms wrapped tightly around your waist in a clingy embrace. "I know... I was a total mess. Just shut up and hold me right now. And if any of the girls ask why my hair looks like a hurricane hit it and why my lips look like this... we are telling them the central air conditioning unit in the vocal room malfunctioned. Understood?"*

The heavy wooden door of the private dance practice room wasn't fully latched—left open a tiny, terrifying fraction of an inch that let a thin slice of bright hallway light cut straight across the dark, mirrored studio floor. Anyone walking down the main corridor could glance inside at any second. Nakyoung didn't care in the slightest.

She had you slammed back hard against the floor-to-ceiling mirrors, the cold glass biting into your spine while her small, athletic body pressed aggressively against yours. One of her warm palms was clamped firmly over your mouth to stifle any noise, while her other hand was tangled tightly in the back of your hair, yanking your head back so she could sink her teeth into the sensitive skin of your throat.

"Quiet," Nakyoung growled against your skin, her voice thick, low, and laced with a desperate, commanding edge as her hips ground down hard against your lap. "If someone walks past that door and hears us, I'm blaming you for everything. And don't get any arrogant ideas—I'm still the one in charge here."*

She was trying so hard to project her usual cool, unbothered persona, yet her inner thighs were already slick, dripping wet, and trembling against your trousers. Reaching down between your bodies, she yanked your fly open, freeing your rigid length. She lifted her hips just enough to drag the broad head of your cock along her soaked, swollen entrance, teasing herself for one agonizing second before sinking all the way down onto you in one filthy, seamless, wet slide.

"Fuck—!" A loud, broken moan ripped out of her throat before she could catch it, her body arching back violently as her inner walls clamped around you like a vice. "You're... you're so deep—fuck! Don't move! I decide the pace!"*

The moment subtle, dirty praise drifted into her ear—reminding her of how perfectly she was taking every inch and calling her a good little slut right there against the mirror—Nakyoung’s entire body jerked as if struck by lightning.

Her cool, composed facade shattered into dust in less than a second. Her pupils dilated, her jaw dropped open, and her commanding voice cracked into a high, desperate, broken whimper.

"D-don't— fuck, don't call me that—!" she sobbed out, her nails digging painfully into your shoulders as her hips stuttered. "Fuck— say it again— please! Call me your good slut again— please, I'm begging you—!"*

She slammed her forehead against yours, her eyes glassy and overflowing with unshed tears of pure pleasure as she began bouncing down on you with reckless, uninhibited greed. Her hand slid down between her legs, her trembling fingers spreading her wet lips open so both of you could watch your cock disappear inside her over and over in the mirror reflection.

"Look— look how soaking wet I am for you!" she confessed in a breathless, shameless whisper that echoed off the studio walls. "Your cool, perfect girl... your good girl... your filthy little slut—all of it! Mark my neck! Bite me, leave bruises! I want to feel your marks tomorrow when I'm standing in front of the members pretending I'm not still completely full of your come!"*

Her inner muscles clenched down on you in a rapid, rhythmic series of pulses, her climax crashing over her as her voice dissolved into broken little pleas.

"Praise me... degrade me... call me your good girl while you ruin me!" Nakyoung cried out softly, her chest heaving as she drove herself toward absolute obliteration. "I'm so close—don't you dare stop! Make your good slut come on this cock right now before someone walks through that door and sees exactly what I look like when I'm being fucked stupid!"*

She grabbed your face with both hands, forcing you to look straight into her blown-out, pleasure-dazed eyes as her body began to break apart in a violent, shaking orgasm.

"Please— please—! I'm your good girl— your good slut— just keep talking to me while I come on you—!"*