Drabbles + Oneshots | Got7

the first time | mark

smut, explicit

This had to be something out of a dream. Here you were in Mark's bed, your clothes strewn carelessly across the floor. The sheets were wrapped tightly around your body, the only barrier between you and Mark at the moment.

Mark was draped over you almost possessively; his leg between yours, his arm over your waist, and his head on your chest. Though he was deep in possibly the best sleep of his life, you were losing your goddamn mind.

Running a hand through your hair, you released a heavy sigh, careful not to disturb your slumbering partner. How did this happen? How did you have sex with your best friend that you've been in love with for longer than you ever care to admit?

After a shot of tequila - because liquid courage was definitely needed in this nerve-wracking situation - you had come to Mark's apartment with the intention of going your separate ways. You couldn't be friends with him anymore when you had such irrevocable romantic feelings for him.

Mark had stood there, a blank look on his face as you poured your heart out to him. You were sick of dating one random guy after another, hoping they would free you from Mark's spell once and for all. You were tired of Mark playing girls the same way he did video games; a different one every weekend.

At some point during your speech, Mark collided into you and smashed his lips on yours, silencing you at long last. You clearly remembered going rigidly still in his arms, your eyes wide open as you questioned whether the alcohol had completely fucked you up or Mark was actually kissing you.

Then, came his confession. He told you everything you had wanted to hear. That he loved you. That no one understood him the way you did and no one could make him smile the way you do. That no girl could fill the hole in his heart that you had unknowingly made and every time he kissed another woman, he pretended it was you.

This isn't real, you chanted in your mind as he slipped his tongue past your lips. This isn't real, you thought when you stripped each other of all clothing, eager to feel one another's bare skin at last.

This can't be real, echoed in your ears when he was inside you, stroking you to ecstasy as if he had waited an eternity to do so.

You wanted to tell him you loved him, but it was all too overwhelming. Instead, you moaned his name when he gave you release, tightening your arms and legs around him in the hopes of keeping him locked to you forever.

Mark had glanced down at you then, taking in every tiny detail of you basking in the afterglow of your climax. Kissing you gently, he whispered, "I think that's the first time I've ever heard you moan."

You blinked up at him with hazy eyes, bashful considering your position underneath him. "Yeah," you sighed, still out of your mind with pleasure and satisfaction of another kind.

Mark tossed his head to get some of the damp hair out of his eyes. He didn't want anything blocking his view. Then he asked tenderly, "Are you okay?"

Were you? The hell if you knew.

Nodding slightly, you whispered, "I'm okay."

"You look... exhausted."

That wasn't hard to believe. Gulping nervously, you asked, "Did you mean what you said or were you just trying to get me into bed?"

Mark's eyes widened briefly, but you saw it. Disappointment crossed his face, though he tried to hide it. "I'm not like that," he finally answered, voice lowering. "I thought you knew me."

You knew he was the boy that went through girls like he was working down a checklist. Were you to believe your best friend had been waiting all this time for the girl he loved to love him back?

"I do," you murmured, but this was unknown territory to you. "I just don't know how I'm supposed to feel."

Mark shifted, but your thighs were tightly clamped round his hips, and he huffed, "I'm still inside you and you're already regretting it?"

You shook your head in dissension, sliding your arms from their place on his shoulders to cradle his face. "No, I don't," you told him firmly. "Mark, I'm just scared."

Mark softened. He was too. He had never felt about anyone the way he felt about you and it terrified the living shit out of him. By the way you were gazing up at him, he could tell the same could be said about you.

"Stay," he finally said, touching his forehead to yours. "We can figure it out together. Please?"

You sighed, relaxing in his hold at his softly-spoken words. Then, you smiled to reassure him and said, "Okay."

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