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mikwrites-archive · 4 years

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synopsis: you and kuroo tetsurou stopped running from love, but what happens now?

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, also just ilke, talking abt sex a lot HHWJSBDF

bloom masterlist: here!

a/n: kinda nervous considering this is kinda different from other nsfw but i wanted to make it awkward so uhhh i hope u guys like this part HAHAH also it takes place before theyre married and is the only chapter that will be taken place before !!

“You need to get a life outside of video games; it’s not good for you.”

Kuroo chides at Kenma, flicking his video game console as they all lounge in Kenma’s living room during their weekly get togethers.

“You need to get laid and relax more.”

Kuroo chokes on his beer, coughing as he sets down the bottle from his lips, drawing surprise from Bokuto, Akaashi, and especially Kenma who furrows his eyebrows.

“Did that strike a chord?”

“N-No!” Kuroo answers quickly, wiping at his mouth.

“Liar.” Bokuto grins, propping his chin on his hands curiously. “Have you and Y/N not fucked lately?”

“Can we not talk about this? Kenma, how’s that deal going on at your-” Kuroo falters as he attempts to switch the subject, the squinted gaze he receives cutting him off. “What?”

“Answer the question, Kuroo.”

“Oh my god.” Kuroo closes his eyes, covering his face with his hands, voice muffled as he answers. “No. There. Happy? Now can we move on?”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Akaashi reassures contemplatively. “In fact, many relationships struggle with being too busy at times to not have sex.”

“We’ve been fine.” Kuroo groans, tilting back in his chair, feeling the hot flush creep up his neck as he adds on slowly, halting and quiet. “But, it hasn’t, just been, lately.”

A beat passes, and Bokuto holds his hands out in a pause gesture, eyes narrowed, deep in thought.

“Wait, wait,” he starts slowly. “So you guys haven’t for how long?”

“We just, haven’t. In general.”

The silence is longer this time, and Kuroo gnaws at the inside of his cheek as his front two chair legs thunk back down to the ground, regretting bringing this up.

“You guys have been living together for months, and haven’t done anything?” Akaashi muses curiously, while Kenma snorts around his beer bottle.

“You haven’t gotten laid ever since Kitty’s mom left? Years?” Bokuto bursts out, and Kuroo wishes nothing more than for the ground to split open and swallow him whole.

“Well, we’ve, y’know, made out a couple of times. But we’ve never actually,” he clears his throat. “Done it. With Kitty, and volleyball, and everything else going on. I mean, it’s not like I’m some sex machine. I don’t need to get laid to live.”

“Can I ask you just one thing?”

“This literally can’t get any worse, and I’m pretty sure even if I said no, you’d still ask, so go for it.” Kuroo gazes warily at Bokuto who taps his chin absently.

“Are you free this weekend? Akaashi and I could take Kitty-” Bokuto exclaims, glancing at Akaashi who shrugs.

“No.” Kuroo shoots down immediately.

“I guess I could take Kitty.” Kenma drones.

“Wait, are you asking me if I’m free to have sex with my girlfriend this weekend?” Kuroo’s head is spinning, and not from the alcohol, he’s sure of it. “Y’know what, don’t answer that. And I’m not answering that, so let’s move on. Please.”

So they do, albeit reluctantly, but Kuroo should have known better as the next week rolled around.

“Where’d you go?” You mumble as he collapses atop of you, still lounging in bed, accepting the kiss he presses on your cheek apologetically for leaving without any warning.

“Just dropped Kitty off at Kenma’s. He wanted to film a video with her.” Kuroo sighs, and you hum, running your fingers through his hair.

“Funny. Bokuto just came by on his run asking me if I was free today then left.”

Kuroo freezes, and you peer down at him inquisitively.

“What?”

“Those bastards.” Kuroo curses, propping himself up with his elbows and you tilt your head at him confusedly.

“I’m missing something here.”

“They want us to fuck.” He groans, and you squint.

“Our friends... want us to fuck? Like, just for fun? Or...”

Kuroo explains embarrassedly the interaction that occurred the previous week, much to your amusement, and when he finishes, avoiding your gaze, you cup his face gently, forcing him to make eye contact with you.

“If you wanted to have sex we could’ve just talked about it.”

“I know.” Kuroo mumbles. “I just didn’t want you to think that this is something that’s a deal breaker in our relationship y’know? I don’t need sex. Like yeah, I wouldn’t complain if we did, but-”

“Do you want to?”

“Like, now?” Kuroo blinks, and you flush.

“I mean, they did take Kitty.”

“Okay.” Kuroo swallows, and you want to laugh at how awkward the situation is but instead you tug at the hem of his t-shirt gently with a teasing grin.

“I think this probably should be taken off.”

Kuroo laughs, albeit sounding a bit stifled in bashfulness, and he has to wonder why he seems so self-conscious as he tugs his shirt off, tossing it aside.

“Same should be done for you.”

You’re both laughing with mortification and for no reason at all, feeling like teenagers during their first time as your clothes are discarded to the floor, leaving you both in your underwear. They’re easily forgotten as you’re swept up in the kisses Kuroo peppers along your collarbone.

“I kind of wish it was planned between us.” You laugh softly, holding onto his shoulders, biting back a gasp as he nips at your skin. “Would’ve shaved.”

“Hair or no hair, I still think you’re sexy as hell.” Kuroo winks up at you, hands gripping your thighs, and you snort a laugh.

One hand dips closer to where you need him most, tugging your panties down your legs, and he gives you a questioning look for assurance, waiting for your breathlessly quick nod before continuing, lithe fingers slipping into you.

He pumps slowly, and you’re torn between wanting him to go faster and drawing it out, savouring the warm bliss that starts to flood your senses as you dig your fingertips into his shoulders.

His eyes are trained on your features, focused intently on bringing you to your high, basking in the hushed moans that fall past your lips like a reverent melody.

You’re embarrassed at how fast you reach the peak of ecstasy, but Kuroo seems satisfied, sliding his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them off, and you flush at the sight.

“Condom?”

“Yeah.” You nod, breathless as Kuroo begins to rummage in the bedside drawer, unable to hold back your smile as he curses under his breath while he searches impatiently.

He rolls it on, situating and aligning himself between your legs, but makes no movement much to your confusion.

“What... what are you waiting for?” Your cheeks burn at your question, and Kuroo grins.

“You gotta give me consent, baby.”

“Tetsurou.” You deadpan, and he raises an eyebrow. “I am literally naked in our bed.”

“Consent is important!”

“I’m not saying it isn’t, but I swear to god-”

“What’s the magic word?” He murmurs, pressing a trail of kisses down your neck, and you sigh.

“Please.”

With that, he slowly enters, burying his face in the juncture of your shoulder and neck as he clenches his jaw, breath hitching.

“You okay?” You gasp, licking your lips as you swallow.

“Yeah. It’s... been a while.” Kuroo breathes, and when you run your hands up his back, he shudders.

Every touch, feeling, makes his head spin, his senses riding into overdrive as he tries to breathe deeply, focusing on making this last.

“Take your time.” You assure, and he stares at you through lidded lashes, hints of hazel peering through before his lips meet yours slowly.

His hands gently move your arms to rest against the mattress, fingers interlacing loosely with yours by your head, as he finally begins to move.

Your hands squeeze his as you whimper, pleasure sparking through your body; his mouth clashing against yours feverishly as he shallowly thrusts, groaning.

“Tetsurou.” You gasp, as he adjusts slightly, and he keens at your panted utterance of his name.

“I love you. I love you so much.” He slurs, repeating the words until they have no more meaning, and can only be conveyed through the way he moves against you, where your bodies are joined, and the sloppy kisses he presses upon your skin and lips.

Euphoria blooms to the tips of your fingers, blossoming behind your squeezed shut eyes as you reach your high, crying out, and Kuroo follows soon after, cursing.

When he pulls out, you don’t notice him maneuvering around the room, tossing out the condom, grabbing a towel, focused on calming down.

You start to laugh when he returns, lying next to you silently, and Kuroo blinks at you concernedly, yet unable to hold back his own crooked grin, running a hand through his hair as he props himself up on his side.

“That was good.” You giggle when you regain your breath, and Kuroo furrows his eyebrows.

“I’d hope so.”

You roll so you’ve turned to face him, smiling.

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“You did not just quote Star Wars to me after we fucked.”

“I prefer the term ‘making love’.”

“I hate you.”

It’s Kuroo’s turn to laugh at your disgruntled expression, tugging you close as you roll your eyes at his antics.

“Feeling’s mutual.” He murmurs, yelping as you pinch him.

You both know it’s not true; not in the slightest.

Kuroo knows it the most, for the small velvet box that lies in the back of his sock drawer says otherwise.

TAGLIST: @moonyremvs @clowninfortodoroki @thenezuko @moonchild-kun94 @bakugounohero

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#kuroo x reader #kuroo imagine #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro imagine #tetsurou kuroo x reader #tetsurou kuroo imagine #kuroo tetsurou x reader #tetsurou x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu!! x reader #bloom au

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boymeetsweevil · 4 years

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And then there were two

Grouping: Reader x College BF!Mark (NCT)

Word Count: ~3.48k

Warnings/Themes: non-graphic first time, too many friends with too little boundaries

Prompt: “what do u think abt college bf mark and awkward and fumbling first time”

The dorm is suspiciously quiet when Mark enters. There’s no sound of the XBox going, no sound of raucous laughter, no sound of beer bottles clinking. It’s almost as if you’re alone in your dorm. Odd.

“Mark?” You call from the common area shared by you and your suitemates. “Is that you?”

“Yeah.”

He finds you curled up on the couch, biting at your nails with your computer at your lap.

“Hey. Did you get your test results back yet?”

“I mean, the portal is open. I just haven’t checked it yet.” A sigh ghosts past your lips. “I don’t know if I passed this one. And if I don’t pass, I’ll have to retake the class later.”

“Want me to open it for you?”

“Please.”

Mark makes his way over, arms behind his back as he hides the treasure he brought with him. Once he’s seated you slide your laptop over to him like you can’t get it away fast enough and push yourself back until you’re at the opposite end of the couch. Your toes are the closest thing to him and you wedge them under his thigh while he types in your password from memory.

“Class average was a...64. Yikes,” he reads off that stats from the exam’s page.

“Yeah. It was a doozy.”

“Okay, let’s see. Woah, you got an 83.”

“What,” you shout.

“Nerd.”

Your eyes grow wide and you lunge forward to yank the computer away, hoping that he’s not messing with you. Mark laughs, nose scrunching at you as you take in the actual 83 on your exam’s results screen. The hoarse little shriek you let out is so cute that his heart aches a bit.

“The prof said she was adding a curve for this one. 6 points, she said.”

“Congrats, baby—oof!”

Mark’s back hits the arm of the couch with a thud, taking the brunt of the force from your tackle. It’s a bit awkward but you still manage to get your limbs around him and squeeze. A breathy chuckle floats up from where you bury your face in his neck.

“I was so nervous. I hate Orgo so much.”

“I know, but you work so hard. How could you not do well?”

“Thanks,” you say once you pull back. Your eyes are velvet soft with relief and fondness as you look him over.

You press a soft kiss to his lips and Mark presses back for a moment before pulling back with a jerk. Somehow you’ve ended up in the splayed V of his knees as a pleasant weight in his lap. Not an often occurrence.

“I, uh, I might have brought you something,” he mumbles against the skin of your cheek when you kiss the hinge of his jaw. His eyes and voice go gravelly and dark at your proximity.

“What is it?” You sit back on your heels with a staccato bounce.

“Chicken Haus.”

From the side of the couch he brandishes a large paper bag with a familiar crowing chicken logo printed on the brown surface. The thin paper barrier does nothing to keep the smell from wafting over to you.

“Oh, did you get fries? Let me see!”

“Ah, ah!” He moves the bag out of your reach, causing you to stumble forward. Your glare down at him but all he does is cackle in response. “Say please,” he sing-songs.

“Dude, come on. This isn’t kindergarten!”

“So, I’m ‘dude’ now?” He sniffs and moves to put the chicken back. “Alright, I see how it is.”

“Mark—Mark, wait! Mark, my man. My super capable, handsome man. Please. Let me see the chicken.”

“Nice,” he hands you the bag, trying his hardest not to be flustered by your performance.

There’s a small mountain of your favorites in the bag and you do a little dance before hopping off the couch and making a beeline to the small communal kitchenette.

“Did you eat dinner already?”

“Yeah, I had some stuff at the studio.”

You turn to give him a little disappointed pout. “Still, come sit with me!”

Mark ambles over with a pleased smile on his face. As you look for napkins he admires the straight way you hold your back. The university is notorious for its cutthroat biology major but you’re not the competitive type. So exam weeks are especially hard on you. You always end up stressed and shrunken in on yourself and Mark hates to see it. Few things cheer you back up right away. One of them is the atomic spicy nuggets from Chicken Haus.

“Should we eat in your room,” Mark asks. Your mutual friend Jungwoo, who introduced you and Mark, usually has virtual tutoring at this hour. Mark always feels bad for interrupting him, but normally you’d share some of your congratulatory nuggets with him.

“We don’t have to this time. Jungwoo went home for his mom’s graduation and Doyoung’s at a public health conference.”

“Oh. They didn’t tell me that.”

“Mark,” you let out an incredulous laugh when you finally open the box. “I think you got too many nuggets this time.”

Mark looks down at the party-sized box he handed over a hefty portion of this week’s paycheck for. He supposes it’s a lot for two people to eat, but the dorm is usually overflowing with friends. Tonight he bought a lot out of habit and none of the people he expected to be over are actually present.

“Shit. Are none of the guys coming over?”

“Mm, I don’t know. What’s Johnny up to?”

Mark wracks his brain for his friends’ whereabouts. “Uhh, I think I remember him saying he was gonna go visit his girlfriend at her school. So, I guess he’s not coming.

“Okay,” you sit at one of the stools. “And Taeil and Haechan?”

“Probably, like, playing Fortnite or something.”

“I know Taeyong said he had some work he had to do for his design class, so he’s definitely not coming.” You bite down into a nugget finally and let out a soft moan. “This never gets old.”

Suddenly Mark is hungry again. When he grabs a napkin and a plate you give a gloating smirk.

“I think Yuta’s probably just asleep,” you say after you’ve finished moaning around another chicken nugget.

“That just leaves Jaehyun, I think.”

“I mean, I can text him and invite him over if you want me to.”

Before you can reach for your phone, Mark’s free hand covers yours. You can’t help but laugh a little. Jaehyun and Mark may be good friends, but you know Mark is still a little wary since Jaehyun tried to hit on you the first night you met everyone. There’s no hard feelings, though. According to Mark.

“N-no, you don’t have to. He’s probably just enjoying the night in. Let’s...leave him be.”

“Okay,” you grin and take another bite.

After you finish eating, you make the decision to migrate back to the couch to check out some of the stuff on your DVR. Doyoung has dominated most of the drive space but there’s some shows that you know Mark likes. You tape them on the off chance that he comes over and no one else has something else they want to watch instead.

“Should we watch that zombie series,” Mark asks as he scrolls through the listings.

“I hate their graphics.”

“I know,” he snorts. “But it’s funny how mad you get at their fake blood. Might be fun to watch.”

“If you really wanna watch you can, but I’m not looking. I’m just gonna make myself comfy here, instead.”

You say all this as you proceed to stretch yourself over Mark’s already lounging form. You slot yourself between his thighs before hitching a leg up over his hip. Your head is pillowed by his shoulder and you cage him in with your arms.

“We don’t have to watch it. It’s more fun to watch with Yuta anyway. He always screams so loud, like, I swear he has a 4 octave range sometimes.”

“You’re such a music major,” you wrinkle your nose before peeking up. “Can I hear that project you’ve been working on in the studio?”

Mark’s cheeks flush under the blue light cast by the TV screen. He doesn’t say anything at first, but he does nod. You get up just long enough for him to grab his phone and the pair of over-the-ear headphones he always carries with him.

He takes care to brush your hair out of the way and slip the headphones onto your head gently. He sneaks in a pinch of your cheeks while you wait for him to cue up the song and laughs at the way your eyes crinkle in light annoyance.

The song begins and he alternates between gnawing at his bottom lip and watching your expression unblinkingly. Mark is actually doing super well in his Music Production 401 class and his professor is trying to get him to do an independent study next term. But he’s a perfectionist when it comes to his music. The song’s not finished even though he and Taeyong have been working on it nonstop for the last week and a half.

After a few minutes, you slide the headphones off.

“I like it,” you whisper. “I wish I could tell you something more helpful but I don’t know anything about making music.”

“No, no. Honestly, that’s enough. I feel like you always tell me when you don’t really like what we have, so this is—good.”

“What are you gonna call it?” You grab his free hand and Mark darts his head around to survey the room.

“Tae wants to call it something like “welcome to my playground”. We have to run the name by the other guys in the project. But Professor Seo thinks we should put it online once it’s done.”

“Promise you won’t forget about me when you blow up on SoundCloud.”

Mark tosses his head back and laughs at your teasing, before reaching out for revenge. He grabs at your waist and pulls you down so he can dig his fingers into your sides, knowing exactly where to go so he can torture you.

You let out a gasp and try your hardest to protect your sensitive underarms and the sides of your ribs from him, but it’s too late. Frenzied laughs pour from your mouth and you fight to stay upright. It’s a fight that you lose but not without bringing Mark down with you.

The two of you topple over the edge of the couch in a heap of throw pillows and decorative blankets. You fall first and brace yourself for the impact of Mark’s body. It’s not as painful as you thought it would be and when you crack an eye open you realize it’s because he managed to prop himself up at the last second.

Mark laughs again, but this time it’s small and breathless as he takes in the sight of you underneath him. He yanks himself up so at least his upper half is upright and he looks around again.

“Why are you acting so suspicious? You’ve been acting like you have a dirty secret all night.” You sit up too then, pulling your knees to yourself.

“Ah, really? I dunno.”

But he does know.

Mark is a man of many good traits. He’d like to think, based on what others have told him, that he’s reliable. Hardworking, nice. Maybe even a little handsome if he listens to his mom. But most of all he is incredibly patient.

The last 2 months that you have been dating have consisted of being cockblocked at every turn. And the same thing happened when he was trying to find a good moment to confess to you after realizing that he liked you. Because he and you shared too many friends. Well-meaning but stupid friends.

“I mean—like, I guess I just got so used to us being interrupted by the guys that it’s a habit. Sorry.”

“We’re alone now, though.”

“Ha, right,” he tugs on the collar of his hoodie. “Yeah.”

“So...do you still want to watch the DVR on the couch?”

“Uh, we don’t have to. We could do something else.”

“What do you want to do,” you ask as your fingers crawl up his torso. With a gentle press to his hoodie-clad chest, Mark‘s back hits the seat of the couch.

“Wuh—we could listen to the new SuperK album.”

You shake your head and slink into his lap. You fiddle with the zipper on the front of his hoodie, enjoying the way he fails to keep his cool in the moment.

He looks up at you then, eyes round. “We could... watch that movie Cloud Break. It’s supposed to be really romantic—”

You shake your head again and lean in. “Saw it ages ago,” you murmur against the skin of his neck.

He huffs out a laugh, partly because of the tickle from your lips planting light kisses on his throat and partly because your answer is ridiculous.

“It premiered in theaters two days ago, dude.”

“I have connections,” is all you say before switching to kisses on the corner of his mouth.

Rarely do moments like this ever arise. With your friend group, someone is always in your dorm, or in Mark’s, or texting one of you to let you know you’ll be interrupted soon. One too many traumatic occasions where he didn’t heed the warning taught Mark to be hypervigilant of how he interacted with you.

Honestly, he’s not even sure what to do first now. You’ve already unzipped his hoodie to splay your palms over his chest. He’s certain you can feel the fluttering dance his heart is doing under your hands. His own palms itch with inactivity. But laying them on the bare skin of your waist under the fabric of your shirt feels a bit like a balm against his clammy skin.

It’s like a switch is flipped. Like you’ve both realized how long you’ve been waiting for this moment. Suddenly everything is wandering hands and soft gasps. Time behaves funny in the privacy of the little universe being created on the floor by the couch. First it’s the quick, rough pass of your shirt over your head, getting tangled along overeager elbows along the way. Then it’s the slow and gentle brush of Mark’s knuckles against the skin of your abdomen as he attempts to unbutton your pants with shaking hands. You ask him if he’s scared while thumbing at the plush swell of his lips which are pursed in concentration. He tells you he’s just excited with an equally-shaky chuckle.

That’s what you love about Mark. Probably one of the things everyone loves about Mark. He’s thorough, admirably so. Just like he took his time with his confession,!l and his time with your jeans, he takes time appraising every inch of exposed skin. Some moments are moments of familiarity and he nips at the skin like it’s an old greeting. Some moments are moments of discovery, for both of you. He’s gentler then, drawing a new version of you out from yourself in the form of drawn out gasps or curses.

Many are moments of reciprocity. There are times when you hope his touch leaves fingerprints behind, something that you can keep long after your sweat has dried. And every touch he gives is matched with one you return. The feel of your palm on him, over him, around him draws his muscles taut. When you finally slot together, of course it’s like two puzzle pieces. It’s just right and the breath Mark releases then is almost like a sigh of relief.

Often relief is a quiet, calm thing. Not always, certainly not now. You and Mark chase this relief panting and sometimes clawing at one another. He’s jerky as he moves over you. With arms shaking on either side of his head and this jaw grit tight, he tries his best to make it to the end with you. The way you moan and lock your thighs around him to pull him closer and deeper are the things that push him off the edge. He spills into you with a choked off groan that tapers off when he pulls away finally.

He’s exhausted, but still attentive in his aftermath. Mark whispers sweet nothings into your ear as he beckons you closer to your own orgasm with his hand. The feeling of working over you through the slick of his cum awakens something in the corners of his mind, but he puts that back. For another day, he reasons. Another one of those rare days when he can get you alone. Next time he won’t hesitate.

“You feel good,” he nuzzles the tip of his nose by the base of your ear.

Your breath hitches wetly and you reach down to grip his still twisting wrist. The touch grounds you only slightly because he changes the angle and suddenly you’re floating towards white light once more. Mark watches your hips raise in little broken motions to reach your own high.

Immediately, you pull him back in. He’s confident in the way he follows this time. He swoops in over you, kissing you like the sex had merely whetted his appetite.

“Is there still chicken?”

The sound of Jungwoo’s voice drives you two apart so fast your joints crack. You shriek and pull the closest piece of clothing you can find over your lap and torso. It just so happens to be Mark’s sweatpants, leaving him defenseless and bare.

Jungwoo pokes his head out from behind his bedroom door, headphones hanging around his neck with music oozing softly from the ears. Whatever he sees must be appropriate enough, because he nods to himself then and strolls toward the kitchen. The leftover Chicken Haus sits neatly packaged away thanks to Mark’s previous care.

“Bro, what the hell,” Mark whines from behind the safety of the couch. Just his head peeks over the cushions, making him look tiny. Like a tiger cub woken prematurely. Jungwoo laughs.

“I thought you said you bought enough to share. There’s no way you guys were gonna finish all this on your own.”

“That’s not—” Mark sighs, “That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what?”

“We’re kind of doing something here.” He jerks his chin down to where you’re hidden from view still. Neither of them can see your grimace.

“Oh, yeah, we know.”

“We?”

Your head and naked shoulders pop up then. Mark shifts his arm subtly in front you to preserve what’s left of your modesty. It doesn’t do much.

“Yeah, me and the others were in my room. We heard you did good on the test from our friend Lucas—you know the one who TAs for orgo? We were gonna surprise you, so we all got here early.”

“How early,” Mark’s voice is steady, eerily so.

Jungwoo picks up another nugget and chews thoughtfully while he picks the right things to say. Johnny is the one who is known for being scary when angry, but Mark’s silent fury is frightening in its own right. A tiger cub is still a tiger, after all.

“Early,” he finally says.

“Fuck,” Mark covers his eyes with his hands. His cheeks bloom over rapidly. “Are you kidding me? Like for real?”

“Jungwoo,” Taeyong’s stage whisper cuts through the outburst. “Are they done yet?”

“You think he’s just standing out there talking to himself while they’re still doing it,” Doyoung’s voice enters next.

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t stop to watch a little on the way back,” Yuta scoffs.

“Guys, stop, this is so weird. That’s Mark we’re talking about.” The sound of Johnny’s internal crisis is almost as loud as his distressed non-whisper.

Jungwoo snorts before piling a plate high with more chicken. “You sound like such a mom, John.”

“Hey, wait is there still chicken?” Taeil’s sleepy voice is followed by Haechan giving an affirmative.

The guys stream out of Jungwoo’s tiny suite like a swarm of ants making a line towards the kitchen. Some of them hop onto the counter while Doyoung distributes plates. Others grab up the remaining stools and continue to discuss Mark’s new lack of virginity while serving up fries and nuggets. None of them seem to be concerned about yours or Mark’s presence with their backs turned towards you.

As the others continue to bicker amongst themselves, you turn to Mark. With a knowing look, he gestures for you to pass him his sweats. In silence, you both dress yourselves before making a break to your room. You enter first, diving head first into your bed out of mortification. Mark makes sure to close the door as soundlessly as possible before turning to you.

“We need new friends,” the two of you say in unison.

#nct scenarios #nct smut #nct fanfic #nct imagines

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