“there’s no evidence this character wears sock garters and shirt stays” nothing admissible in court no but circumstantially yes and the circumstances are he’s fancy and theyre sexy
Hold me close (My hands are tied)- The mayor x The district attorney
NSFW! NSFW! NSFW! NSFW! NSFW! NSFW! NSFW! NSFW!
Characters: Damien x GN!District Attorney (Gender neutral pronouns for district attorney, they/them pronouns for district attorney)
Rating: Mature (Not safe for work, smut, sexual themes.)
Other: Bondage, Shibari, Rigger (D.A.) and rope bunny (Damien), orgasm denial, edging and others.
It was so rare that they ever had a day to themselves-- especially with Damien as the mayor who's almost always required at every social event happening within town, and the district attorney having to sit through long, arduous court sessions almost every other day; but when it does happen, Damien makes sure that they make the most out of it.
It was still early when Damien had woken up. The sky was still a bit dark, the sun lazily rising by their right side window. He's comfortably warm, snuggled up against the district attorney's chest. A pleased rumble forms in his throat, his barely-awake senses slowly adjusting to the still dark room, and with that, he feels. He feels his lover's chin resting atop his head, with their arms tenderly holding him close. He hears the gentle beating of their heart against his ear, hears their shallow breaths pass through their slightly open lips. It's peaceful, quiet, and soft-- unlike the usual dreaded mornings they used to have for the past weeks where everything was just too loud, too noisy, too much. He turns his head to bury his face closer to their chest, and he feels their arms wrap around him tighter. The warmth he's feeling in his chest spreads through his whole body.
They were beautiful, his beloved attorney. In the early hours of dawn, they were absolutely gorgeous. Something about their messy hair and their slightly jutted lips and soft snoring stirs something in Damien-- possessiveness? Protectiveness? Whatever it is, it certainly wants all they have for himself.
The morning birds start their gentle singing by the window. They were still fast asleep, so Damien decides that he'll make coffee for them this time. From the start of their relationship, which would date back in college (if you counted whatever they had back then as a relationship), his dearest had made it their routine to make coffee for the both of them, and despite how small the gesture seemed to be, Damien always had been grateful and appreciative. He had been successful to return the sweet little thing they had done for him a few times, but Damien fails to wake up earlier than them most of the times. Today, however, he's set on making them coffee, so to the kitchen he goes.
With two steaming cups of freshly brewed coffee ready by the table, Damien tries to discreetly pick up the newspaper by their porch without the neighbors catching him doing so in just his pajama pants. The sun is higher in the sky now, the remnants of the night sky sinking back with the distant moon setting on the other side of the horizon. He takes in a deep breath, and exhales contentedly. It was a nice day.
He quickly shuffles back inside; his darling would wake up soon. They always did when they finally notice that Damien wasn't in their arms.
He settles himself by the kitchen table, taking a long deserved sip of coffee. He was flipping through the newspaper and scanning through the headlines when he heard quiet footsteps coming out of their bedroom, and he tries to hide the soft smile on his lips under the paper.
His beloved attorney had just risen, and Damien watches them stretch as they walk outside their shared room, clad in nothing but their sleeping shirt and pants. The silken cloth raises a bit to expose their abdomen as they raise their arms and yawn, hair messy and all over the place. Their eyes are barely even open, but they trudge towards Damien to give him a hug from behind, cheek pressed against his head as the mayor chuckles softly.
"Good morning."
His lover only hums, pressing a kiss unto his hair before they take a seat beside him, grabbing the cup of coffee Damien had set out for them. And as they sip the hot beverage, they sink into their seat beside him, mumbling a soft 'thank you' before taking a sip again. They didn't really need to say it, but it did make his heart flutter, so he takes it.
The morning starts slow, their kitchen only filled with comfortable silence, accompanied by the sound of newspaper turning. He's been reading one article under the headlines when he catches that the attorney was staring at him from the corner of his eye, a hand under their chin, a soft smile on their face. He immediately feels shy under the tender gaze, but still asks, "What is it?"
The attorney shakes their head silently. "Nothing. Just wanted to look at you, love."
Oh- and there it is. More butterflies than Damien could ever handle. So early in the morning too. He can't help the growing smile on his lips, the blush on his face more imminent. "Sappy today, are we?"
"Only for you, love." They say with a chuckle, before picking up their now empty mugs and putting them into the sink. Clapping their hands together, Damien watches them turn around, as if they remembered something. "Oh, I just remembered," yep, there it is, "We still have pizza left overs!"
Damien can't help but chuckle. "I can't believe that we're still living off left over pizza even after college."
"Hey, this is fancy pizza left overs. It's different." They say with a grin, before pulling out the left overs and putting it in the microwave. "Do you want egg rolls too?"
This time, Damien laughs loudly. "How can I say no to your egg rolls?"
When his laughter dies down, he finds the district attorney wriggling their brows, wearing a smug face, and his face reddens in realization. "Oh my. Oh dear. Why did I say that. Where did that come from?"
"It's alright, darling. That's not the only thing that's going to come." The district attorney says, still wriggling their brows, and Damien sputters on his own saliva. His dearest laughs at his reaction, and Damien can't help the butterflies in his stomach. Dang, he's just a mess with them, isn't he?
After a few more explicit jokes from the attorney that got the mayor madly blushing, both of them moved to the living room and sat down in front of their television to eat their reheated pizza left overs and egg rolls to the sound of the early morning news.
"What do you want to do today?" Damien asks as he sets down his greasy plate on the coffee table. When he looks at them, they were already reaching out to gently wipe something on his lips with their thumb, an action that shouldn't have taken him off guard with how often they do it, but still did. Especially when they lick the sauce off themselves. His cheeks slowly burn.
"I'm good with whatever you decide on doing, love." They reply with a small smile.
"I-I don't mind doing whatever," he stammers, and they gently chuckle at his flustered attitude. Damien shyly looks at his lap to avoid their gaze. "I don't mind just staying here and doing just whatever with you."
"Really?"
When Damien looks back up at them, there's something in their eyes- a certain darkness that makes his insides burn with anticipation.
"Y-Yeah." He nods. "Why?.. Do you.. do you have something in mind?…"
A hand is placed on his thigh, gently squeezing and massaging his clothed leg. They hum for a moment, thinking about what to say before they smile back at him, soft and fond.
"Yes, I do, actually. Would you allow me to show you?"
Oh, and does it burn. The fire that tickles his insides, the flames that licks his flesh. It takes him a minute to formulate his words, mind clouded with nothing but the thoughts of them so he only manages a soft gasp of, "Yes, please."
The few inches of space between their faces were immediately closed with both of them leaning into a kiss- soft and warm and longing. The pleased sigh that Damien releases through his nose makes his whole body lax, and his beloved darling takes it as a sign to deepen the kiss. It's been so long, since they've held each other this close-- with all the prying and judging eyes of the public constantly on them, paparazzi following them around town like vultures waiting for death so they can feast-- it has been hard to deal with the loss of the usual amount contact they had. They can't even hold hands, opting to remain professional outside the privacy of their homes. It definitely had some effects on them, especially with how touch starved Damien is lately, but now-
Damien pants shallowly as the district attorney kisses the corners of his lips after pulling away to let them breathe, and judging from how hot his face feels, he assumes he's blushing so deeply that his neck must be red as well. But he wasn't allowed to think further and be embarrassed as they kiss again, this time just little harder, and it's already enough to make his head spin, only pulling away to breathe.
Dumbly, he mumbles between pants, "Tastes like pizza ang egg rolls.."
The laugh that his beloved attorney makes is something that he would always treasure in his heart. Normally he would panic about whatever dumb shit he had just blurted out, but hearing their amused wheezing probably saved him an internal spiral. That doesn't mean he can't get embarrassed about it, though.
"I-I mean, I still like it-- they tasted good, and you tasted good, and uh-"
Between his embarrassed stammering, the attorney places a chaste kiss on his lips that definitely shut him up. They look at him under their lashes with a soft smile, nuzzling at his cheek.
"I love you, Damien."
Three words. Those three, simple words sent his heart into the sky, leaping out for joy. They love him. They love him.
"I love you too." He replies, with the softest expression on his face and stars in his eyes.
"I love you more." They never fail to say every time. And every time they do, Damien has this great urge to cry in disbelief that a person as beautiful as the world could even love him.
So, just like them, he replies with all his heart, resting his forehead against theirs, "I love you most."
When they reconnect their lips this time, it's much more gentle, and Damien feels a delicate hand on his cheek. He holds unto it as they press closer against each other, like the polar opposites of a magnet. The hand on his cheek moves to fist in his hair. Their kiss deepens. And between the small space between them and all the whispers and declaration of love, within a breath and the next, Damien decided that he'd do anything for them.
"I want to make love to you." They whisper between their laboured breathing, their hand resting where Damien's heart was hammering against his ribcage while their lips traced a path down his throat. "I want you and all of you can give."
In a heartbeat, "I am yours," Damien says, breathless, and they pull away just to look at the hot mess that was their beloved mayor. His eyes are locked on theirs, and there's a flame there that's continuously burning brighter. "Take me and all of who I am."
They stumble into their room, a tangled mess of limbs feverishly trying to hold each other as close as possible. The gentle nip on his lower lip had Damien whimpering into the kiss, and he's slowly being pressed against the wall, trapped between the arms of his beloved, whose lips travel to his jaw, tracing hot kisses lower and lower, 'till they reach his neck once again. He feels their warm breath against his sensitive skin, and with every gentle press of their lips and a fresh mark burning on it, he shudders, small moans threatening to escape his throat. He fists on the sleeves of their shirt, trying to keep himself steady. All his efforts become futile, however, as soon as a knee was pushing between his legs, his hips buckling in instinct.
"Is this okay, darling?" They ask in a low, quiet voice, their hands resting on his hips, thumbs gently massaging the dips in his hips that disappears into his sleeping pants. Embarrassingly, it makes him moan, head thrown back.
"Yes," he breathes out, and they take advantage of his throat, purring at the sight of Damien unraveling before him. "God, yes…" He whispers breathlessly.
"Tell me if it's too much, okay?" They say softly, and when Damien opens his eyes, he finds them looking at him with the most gentle gaze. A smile paints his lips, and he nods. They never fail to be just the kind, perfect person that Damien has fallen madly in love with, and his heart flutters.
They resume nipping at his neck, but their hands explore more, pressing against his chest, sliding down behind him to grab at his ass. He's putty under their touches, a mess that doesn't know what to do with himself if not for his beloved. And when he receives that slow roll of their hips against his already hard length, does he fully let go and moan. It makes him feel embarrassed, but his lover made sure that he receives the pleasure he deserves so that he could never shut his pretty mouth.
"So good, my love." They whisper in his ear, and he shudders just at that. They lead him unto their bed, and as soon as his back hit the silk sheets, they're already all over him, hands exploring every space they could reach, leaving sparking, blazing trails in their wake. He arches into their touch, and soon, they're stripping him down.
"Absolutely perfect, darling…" They purr, leaving hot kisses at every part they unravel; his shoulders, the middle of his chest. When wet warmth engulfs chest, he can't help the low moan that escapes him, and the sudden feeling of warmth pooling in his abdomen.
"N-No, please, I'm gonna-" he pants, but his beloved doesn't heed to his warning, instead insistently sucking at his chest, flicking the nip with the tip of their tongue. This brings him closer, but he feels the tightening of a hand around his cock, making him thrash and tremble as his end doesn't come.
When they pull away from his chest, the nip is puffy, the skin around it red and swollen. He cries for his delayed release, but is quickly shushed by a tender kiss.
"Shh, it's okay, darling. You're not going to, yet."
"Please, please…" He begs, and oh, his soft cries were gorgeous. The district attorney loved it when he begged at them for release, but they won't allow him just yet.
"Soon, my precious." They whisper. "For now, hold on for as long as you can, okay? Can you do that, darling?"
And what is Damien if not theirs? So of course he nods. He'll do anything for them.
"Good. You're doing great, darling love. Just let me do one last thing, okay?"
To be honest, Damien didn't know how they both ended up here. And he's not entirely complaining, either, especially as the rope that his beloved has tied around his neck fit snug and perfectly. It was their centerpiece-- a perfectly tied bow decorating Damien's neck. The red rope was bright against his bare skin, and he marvels at the art that his love has made him into.
"There you go, my darling." They had said so softly, planting a tender kiss on his cheek. "All finished."
They guide him to a full-sized mirror, and Damien can't help but blush at his tied-up reflection. The ropes were snug yet comfortable, and they looked absolutely beautiful, tied by skilled hands.
"Beautiful." His beloved says, a satisfied smile on their face. "You look beautiful, darling love."
His face grows hotter, and he tries to avoid looking at his naked refection in favor of looking meekly at his lover, who only smiles wider. "Do you like them?"
And with a staggering breath, he nods, "Yes, I do. I love it."
"I'm glad, darling. You look so good for me."
They make him face the mirror once again, admiring him by their reflection. It takes all of his will power not to fold into himself and cover himself up, but when they plant another kiss on his cheek and whisper nothing but words of praise, his chest bubbles with warmth and satisfaction with the fact that he was able to please them. But facing the mirror again only meant that he can't avoid watching their reflection, and he can't help the shudder that racks his body as he watches their lips once again trace warm kisses down his neck.
"Do another favor for me?" They ask against his skin, eyes looking straight back at Damien in their reflection. He nods almost immediately; eager to do anything for his lover-- and they gently smile back at him. "Can you keep your eyes on the mirror for me, love?"
Oh, no. Oh no. The whimper that the simple favor elicits both excites and scares Damien; he's going to get wrecked, and because it was his beloved, he'd be willing to be. He always would be. "O-Okay." Was his quiet reply after a few moments of silence. "I'll try."
"Thank you, my love." They hum against his skin. "Just tell me if it's too much, okay?"
Damien nods and braces himself by taking a few deep breaths and staring at his own reflection in the mirror, slowly getting used to it despite his still red face. He receives a chaste kiss which really helped to calm him down, but the fun part is just about to happen.
The district attorney takes their place behind him, hands on his bound chest. The warm breath on their nape makes him tremble with anticipation, and just like he promised to try to do: he keeps his eyes on the mirror and watches as their hands and lips claim what's theirs.
"Oh, oh-!" He whimpers as he feels a hand on his already leaking cock. His hips buck at the tight fingers gently tugging at hard on, as his rope covered hands tries to grab on anything just to remain standing, finding stability by holding unto the back of the district attorney's shirt.
"Eyes on the mirror, darling. Watch yourself be a mess." They whisper in his ear, before nipping at his earlobe, down to his throat. He tries to comply, as promised; and he's met by his own sweaty refection and his beloved darling painting his skin with love marks. Their eyes flicker back to meet Damien's gaze in the mirror as they sink their teeth on his shoulder, and the sting draws out another loud moan from his throat as he arches against them.
"Oh, god- oh, god-! Please-!" He pants, as a hand flicks and plays with his already puffy chest, grabbing at his pecs, while the other pumps his length in the most delicious way. He's pretty sure he's a blabbering mess now, unable to form coherent sentences, much less remember words. The only thing he could think of right now is his darling love- their name on his lips like a prayer to a god Damien doesn't know.
"C-Can't…" He cries, lowering his head to his shoulder. "I'm gonna-"
"Do you want me to stop?" Comes their breathy question as they slow down, their wet lips pressed against the shell of Damien's ear. They nuzzle the side of his head and Damien shakes his head with a whimper, desperately staring at them through the mirror with tears in his eyes as he begs.
"No- no, please… Please continue. I'm so close…"
"Okay, darling love. It's okay, darling. We'll continue." They gently shush him, pressing a soft kiss on their nape. Their actions continue, and Damien trembles with pleasure as his climax nears. His thighs are quivering at every drag of their hand, and he ruts into their grip, fighting the urge to hunch over himself.
"Please, oh, please…" He cries once again, his pleading followed by fast, shallow breathing. "I'm gonna- I can't-"
"It's alright, darling. You can come now." They breathe behind him, and as if their words were a switch, Damien releases all over their hand with a loud gasp, his hips jerking and his whole body shaking with how hard he came.
He's absolutely both breathless and boneless, limp against the district attorney who only kept on whispering praises to his ear while they held him close, making him lean against them so he doesn't faceplant unto the floor. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, and they both bask in the aftermath. He turns to look at them with a gentle smile, and they return it before leaning in to place a kiss on his lips.
"You good, love?" They ask, and Damien tiredly laughs.
"I'm great, actually." He breathes, resting his head back against their shoulder. "You?" He asks, turning his head to look at them once again.
"I'm wonderful, darling." They reply softly. "I'm more worried about your weak knees."
Damien chuckles and reaches for their clean hand and gently squeezes it. "I'll be fine in a few."
I found myself having, not exactly an argument recently, but a highly opinionated conversation with someone who did not believe my assertion that once upon a time there were official Hello Kitty vibrators. With the aid of the Wayback Machine, I found this article, and thought the world at large might enjoy it too...
Here's the text of the article:
The history of the Hello Kitty vibrator
By Peter Payne
October 4, 2004
Sanrio is one of the top character licensors in the world, having more or less created the business model of doing business by creating something that doesn't really exist and licensing its use to other companies. Sanrio produces nothing -- all their characters, like the Little Twin Star, Minna no Ta-bo, Bad Batz-Maru, exist as legal entities and nothing more. Their most successful character, Hello Kitty, or Kitty-chan as she's known in Japan, is now now thirty years old.
One of the many companies that license Sanrio's characters for their products was a Japanese company called Genyo Co. Ltd. Genyo made a wide variety of products, from bento boxes to children's toys to chopsticks, many with the Hello Kitty character on them. They scored big in the late 1990's with an off-the-wall hit, a series of Hello Kitty toys which featured a different Kitty figure from each of Japan's 47 prefectures, each representing something the prefecture was famous for. (The figure from Gunma Prefecture, where we live, represented a wooden kokeshi doll.)
In 1997, Genyo designed a product that would live in infamy: the Hello Kitty vibrating shoulder massager, which really is a shoulder massager (trust us -- it says so on the package). Sanrio approved this design without batting an eye, and the product enjoyed modest sales in toy shops and in family restaurants like Denny's and Coco's. It wasn't until 1999 or so that people began to catch on to the fact that the Hello Kitty massager had other potential uses, and with amazing speed, they started popping up in adult videos in Japan. The next thing anyone knew, they had changed into a cult adult item, sold in vending machines in love hotels -- after all, what self-respecting man wouldn't buy his girl a Hello Kitty vibrator when she asked him for one?
The emergence of the Hello Kitty vibrator as a cult adult item caused friction between Sanrio and Genyo, and Sanrio ordered the company to stop making the units. Genyo refused, since it had paid a lot of money to license Kitty for their products. There seemed nothing Sanrio could do, since they had approved the item for sale (see the official Sanrio sticker on the boxes). The answer came when the Japanese tax authorities raided Genyo on suspicion of tax evasion. It seems that some creative accounting was going on between the president of the company, a Mr. Nakamura, his vice president, and the owner of the factory in China where the units were made. All three were arrested, and Sanrio had the excuse needed to yank Genyo's license. They seized the molds used to make the vibrators and destroyed them.
And so, the sad, weird chapter of the Hello Kitty vibrator is at an end. The last of the Kitty vibes are gone, so now what will the world do for wacky comic -- and sexual -- relief?
#reading this post treating it like every other tumblr post#hello kitty vibrators yes of course that is the kind of thing you read about on tumblr#no surprises there#until i realise who op is#and have to laugh and laugh and laugh#i love neil gaiman#a true tumblrina if ever there was one
In Which The Captain Decides to Just Go Straight For The Kneecaps
Captain: “So, Mark, how many of those alternate realities that we jumped into do you remember?”
Mark: “…Uh, I’m just gonna go ahead and say ‘way too many’. Why do you ask?”
Captain: “Do you remember the one where everything was in black and white and we all wore trenchcoats and monologued like 1940′s private eyes?”
Mark: “Yyyyeaahhh…?”
Captain: “Hm. Yes, I remember that one too, and I also remember…” [fighting a smirk] “…that during one of your monologues, you implied that you working up the courage to… perform a certain act, had about the same likelihood as you destroying the universe someday.”
Mark: “…” [swallows visibly]
Captain: “And, well…” [loses their battle against the smirk, raises eyebrows] “One of those things ended up happening. I just can’t seem to recall what the other one was…”
Captain: [smirk grows into a shit-eating grin] “Do you remember, Mark~?”
Thanks to the lovely @captainsaltypear for their headcanons and letting me write off of them, which you can look through here this is the cutest stuff ever
——-
Finding a planet to land on, finding a home at last for the colonists, it felt like a dream sometimes. Building up homes, establishing your roots, the work was slow and steady and it was hard. But it was a land under your feet, a sky above your heads, and thousands of lives surrounding you. You weren’t alone. They weren’t either. And that was enough.
When shuttles were coming to and fro from the Invincible II as the ship was slowly moving and prepping for landing, it was hard to believe that you wouldn’t be seeing the large expanse of space any longer. But with the days, weeks, months passing by on the newfound planet, one would expect the view of the stars and expanding darkness to slowly fade to the back of your mind.
Okay but the Captain being like, FIERCELY protective of Engie Mark. Like after everything they’ve been through and losing him so many times, they’re so afraid of him being hurt or of losing him again that if anyone so much as snaps at Mark, the Captain sees red. Eventually everyone learns that you don’t mess with the head engineer or the Captain will go apeshit on you
Summary: Mark never wore gloves while he worked. It was always his bare hands, free of any covering, that did the job. This led to you frequently being able to hear loud swears or choruses of “ow” that echoed through the halls of the Invincible II as he was shocked by wires or other electrical devices. Sometimes there would be a loud crash as he would pick up a too-hot piece of metal without thinking about it. Because of this, his hands were tough, the skin thick from the many burns that he acquired each day. They also were covered in scars. Long ones, short ones, thick ones, thin ones.
Scars weren’t the only things on Mark’s hands though. He was almost constantly covered in grease or oil. Streaks of the dark substances were permanently stuck on his hands, transferring to things he touched but never quite coming off unless he really scrubbed at them.
In which your Head Engineer is constantly dirty, and you can’t help but notice.
This was inspired by @sardonic-the-writer and their post about Engineer Mark, which you can find here! Hope you all enjoy!
This idea came to me very suddenly. It was like being punched in the face and being held hostage until I wrote it. It is now 1 AM. I did not proof read this so…
Hey guys whatever you do, don’t imagine Mark missing the Captain when he’s stuck spending cycle after cycle in the warp core room, even as his distrust of them grows. Even as he tells himself he can’t look up to them like he used to– can’t let himself continue to believe in them and trust that they know best, not if he wants to save the universe– finding himself sincerely wishing that he could go back to when he did.
Don’t imagine him yearning for their presence, their conversation, their touch, their encouragement, in spite of himself. Don’t imagine him wishing, in his most desolate moments, that he could ask them what the hell he should do next, or if he’s even on the right track.
Don’t imagine him harshly reminding himself over and over that the version of the Captain he thought he adored doesn’t exist, dammit. If they were here it would only make things worse, not better! But his stupid, dumb heart refuses to get the memo. No matter how many times he tries to convince himself that he hates them, he can never quite make himself believe it.
No matter how many times he tries to push it back down, the horrible empty feeling of I miss the Captain, I want the Captain, I hope the Captain’s okay wherever they are, Captain what should I do keeps on resurfacing. He might go for weeks, months, years without it coming back, but it always comes back. It never goes away completely. It’s always there, lurking at the edge of his consciousness, ready to ambush him if he lets his guard down. If he’s feeling especially tired, or weak, or hopeless.
Hi I absolutely adore your work!I hope your having a great day! If you want to maybe something with Space Mark with prompts from your list!
18. 9. 8!
Idk why but fluffy but possessive (not a weird amount) space Mark makes my heart happy!!!!
Thank you ❤
Thank you so much!! Honestly Space Mark is one of my favorite egos now so I love to write about him.
Also I kind of have another idea for these prompts so I might make another one with these.
Prompts: 18- “you shouldn’t be awake right now.” “okay, hypocrite.” 9-"Is that my shirt?" 8- "Your mine"
Prompt list
For the past week you had been waking up around 1 am and not being able to go to sleep after. At this point you have given up and just let your body be. It would be easier for you to do your work with everyone else asleep. You got up from your bed and slip on a random t-shirt over your tank top. It could be a bit colder around the ship, especially near cryo. You take your short journey to your office and flip on the light. You sit at the desk and pull out a folder full of paper work. You sigh and start to fill it out.
"God it's to early for this." You whisper, you hide your face in your hands and rub your eyes. You are startled by the sound of the door opening. You look up only to see your head engineer standing near it.
"Mark? What are you doing?" You asks.
"I saw you weren't in your room and I was worried about where you were." He said and stood in front of your desk. He grabs a chair from the corner of the room and moves to sit next to you.
“You shouldn’t be awake right now.” He whispers.
"Okay, hypocrite." You chuckle and he rolls his eyes.
"Why are you up, Handsome?" His face goes red. And he struggles to get the next few words out, making you smile.
"I woke up and I went to your room to lay with you and you weren't there." He pouts.
You laugh and pull him to your chest. You sit quietly for a while and you think that he might have fallen back asleep.
"Is this my shirt?" He breaks the silence and you pull away from him. Sure enough it's one of his black and white shirt.
"Yeah. You left it in my room so yeah." He smiled and pulled you into a kiss which you returned.
"You look pretty in my shirt. All pretty. All mine. You're mine." He said in between kisses. You smiled. You knew it was his tiredness that made him like this. If he was fully aware of what he was saying, he won't be saying it. Your boyfriend wasn't the bold one.
You pulled away from him and ruffled his hair.
"You are the biggest dork I know. Now I have to get back to work." You tried to turn away but he grabbed your waist and lifted you from your seat.
"MARK! What on Earth are you doing?! Put me down!" You pushed against his shoulders and he giggled.
"We aren't on Earth. I thought you would know that, Captain." You gave up and let Mark carry you back to your room. He lightly tossed you on the bed and laid down beside you.
"I hate you." You turned away from him. He moved closer and put his head on your back.
