#the concept of him being Just Some Guy lines up w the whole wank bank thing

[marky4l]

any thoughts on mark to spare... of the nsfw nature... pls...,

this ask has been snoozing in my inbox for centuries and now I feel a bit more capable to answer it. nsfw under the cut also this was going to be a headcanon but I’m sorry. I needed to write a drabble its like my nature tbh

quick rundown fwb mark andddd yes

you’d always been curious, but this is your first time asking. your arm reaches out, fingertips shoving against the rough stubble of your best friend’s cheek, lying down beside you.

“why do you take so many pictures of me?” it’s not like you don’t allow it—in fact, you encourage it at times, to get a rise out of him.

his gaze switches over to you, a brief distraction from the book he’d been reading. “pictures… like, pictures of you eating and goofing off?”

your face flushes and you feel warm. best friends is clearly not the label to go by in this discussion. your passive face answers the question and he pipes up again. “oh, you mean why do i take my phone out all the time when i’m blowing your back out?”

“so much for keeping it pg-13,” you mumble, hiding under the blanket. his hand finds your waist and he tugs you, with his annoyingly remarkable strength, onto his side. your panties dampen from the show of strength but you stay quiet, playing with the drawstrings of his hoodie.

he dog-ears the page and sets it on his table. “it’s my wank bank,” he says simply. your legs maneuver so they’re wrapped around his thigh, and you slowly move onto the material of his sweatpants. he laughs into your hair, pushing his glasses off. “jesus, are you wet because i said the words wank bank? i kinda expected the opposite from you.”

you rut harder, whining. “can you shut up?”

“you want to see it, don’t you?”

the silence is telling for you both, and in seconds, he’s pulling out his phone. you burrow into his bare chest, already feeling hesitant at allowing yourself to see this, and he tuts, flexing his thigh so you can feel more friction. “don’t be shy, take a look.”

you sigh and crack your eyes open, suddenly wishing you never had. you’re looking at several—and that’s a massive understatement—pictures and videos of you and mark in various compromising positions. your eyes land on one, zeroing onto it, and he seems to notice, clicking on it and letting the video autoplay. you remember this day vividly: mark had been gaming, playing call of duty the entire day, and had taken out the victory of winning on your poor self.

you can’t help but grind harder, watching yourself in the video—the way you beg for mark to slow down, the way his dick is stretching your pussy out. you can almost feel it. your hands find purchase wrapped around his forearm and he drops the phone, watching you rut onto his thigh.

“could you go any faster?” he mumbles teasingly, a free hand coming up to rub against your drool slick lips. you groan, losing all shame and fully grinding against him. the friction between the seat of your underwear, your cunt, and his sweats is too much, and your mouth parts in a dazed, drawn out whimper.

“who knew you were good enough to get yourself off on my thigh like a good pet?” he hums. “budge up, sweetheart. knees.”

and when you’re slinking onto the floor, pulling his sweats down to mouth at his cock, you almost giggle at the shutter sounds coming from his phone above you.