mohawk!mark who eats your pussy with your arms and legs tied until you’re squirting and leaking all over his face as he continues to fuck you with his tongue until you pass out
mohawk!mark who holds your nose closed as he fucks your throat until your face gets red and you can’t breathe
mohawk!mark who wakes you up sometimes rubbing his cock over the cascade of wetness coating your core
mohawk!mark who loves when you lay your head on the edge of the mattress while he slips down your throat, eyes watching the bugle getting further everytime he thrusts
mohawk!mark who can’t help but not open you fully before sliding his cock in your ass for the first time imagining how tight you’ll feel squeezing him
mohawk!mark who keeps you spread out, a large dildo and vibrator strapped to your body as he sits in front of you watching while you fail at fighting the overstimulation he’s putting you through
mohawk!mark who has a rule to say your safe word twice before he stops
mohawk!mark who whispers things like “oh you like that, don’t you?” with a teasing laugh as he pounds into your tight pussy from behind, “keep taking it baby don’t worry i’m not stopping” as he grunts in your ear while he’s slamming his swollen leaking cock into you or “fuck you’re ruining me, i know you feel it” while he fucks up into you while you’re riding him
mohawk!mark who starts arguments and pisses you off just so he can fuck the attitude out of you
mohawk!mark who’s fingers abuse your clit and walls until you’re whining with your eyes forced on what he’s doing to you, “watch me while i ruin you”
❥・tags: mark grayson blurb, mark is a stalker but in a cute way, childhood friends to lovers, but also lowkey not childhood friends, comic or show mark with season 1 mark in mind, gn!reader, no use of y/n, no dialogue
❥・word count: 434
Mark Grayson, who met you in kindergarten.
Mark Grayson, who chose to sit next to you in his unassigned assigned seat.
Mark Grayson, who would come home excitedly to tell his mom that you looked at him during class.
Mark Grayson, who would make sure your seat was open until you arrived every morning.
Mark Grayson, who made sure to pack extra valentines for you every year.
Mark Grayson, who scoped out his classrooms at the beginning of the school year to see if you were put in his class.
Mark Grayson, who came to every class period the minute before the bell to make sure everyone was in the classroom, to see if you were there.
Mark Grayson, who found the closest seats near you in the classes you had together.
Mark Grayson, who traded seats with the people next to you just to sit near you.
Mark Grayson, who was shocked to see a Seance Dog keychain on your bag.
Mark Grayson, who nervously asked if you read the comics.
Mark Grayson, who doesn't know how attractive he is.
Mark Grayson, who was confused as to why you wanted to go out with him.
Mark Grayson, who gives you free burgers when you visited him at work.
Mark Grayson, who told you about his powers the second he got them.
Mark Grayson, who gives you late-night flights when you text him that you can't sleep.
Mark Grayson, who tries so hard for you.
Mark Grayson, who forgets to tell you about his off-world missions.
Mark Grayson, who isn't perfect.
Mark Grayson, who vents to you about the GDA.
Mark Grayson, who enjoys your study sessions, your attempt to help him graduate.
Mark Grayson, who doesn't see the need for school, though he appreciates your efforts.
Mark Grayson, who needs any excuse to hang out with you, with his busy life.
Mark Grayson, who wants to spend every waking and sleeping moment with you.
Mark Grayson, who has too many impulsive sleepovers at your house.
Mark Grayson, who finally introduces you to his parents.
Mark Grayson, who's mom loves you.
Mark Grayson, who makes sure you're safe.
Mark Grayson, who vents to you about his father.
Mark Grayson, who, despite his father's actions, tries to give you the same experience dating him as his father gave his mother.
Mark Grayson, who insists you never visit him in the GDA hospitals.
Mark Grayson, who swears he'll keep you safe until his dying breath.
Mark Grayson, who loves you so much that he would take over the world for you (he won't, but he would).
❥・a/n: mark grayson is a shitty bf but in fanon hes not trust
mark grayson x sorcerer!reader. you meet your friend's mom for the first time
You know Mark enough to be sure that you can trust him, that he's an actual good guy and that won't betray you the second things change a little. He feels the same about you, he hasn't battled against demons and aliens (at the same time) alongside you to not trust you.
He knew you were a nice girl, even if you deny it yourself. Even with your smoking habits, your hurtful sarcasm and your clear daddy issues. The latter was probably what bond you and Mark the best, spending nights in a rooftop talking about your fathers and how shitty they were. Mark wants to believe that under all that walls and dark magic, he has gained a spot in your heart.
He’s not wrong. Somewhere between the demon hunts and the long silences on rooftops, Mark carved out a small, begrudging space in your chest. You’d never admit it aloud —words like “trust” and “care” taste like rust on your tongue— but he’s there, stubbornly, like a song stuck in your head.
Dinner at his mother’s place was supposed to be a formality: polite smiles, small talk, maybe some casserole you’d pretend to like. But the woman had warmth that disarmed you faster than a holy sigil. She laughed at your sarcasm, asked about your “mysterious line of work,” and squeezed your hand as if she’d known you all your life. By dessert, she’d declared you “good for Mark.” By coffee, you were threatening, half-jokingly, to steal her away from her son.
“Mark, I think I’ve fallen in love.”
You say it lazily, the words spilling out into the night air like smoke from your cigarette.
Mark stiffens. You can feel it beside you, the sudden stillness of someone ambushed by hope. He blinks, stares at the stars like they might hand him instructions.
“…With who?” he asks, too carefully, as if saying the wrong thing might scare you off.
You turn your head, exhale a long stream of smoke that curls upward. “Your mother.”
There’s a beat of silence. Then another.
“What?”
“She’s a goddess, Mark. That lasagna? Life-changing. Her hug? Felt like therapy I didn’t even have to pay for.” You tap ash off the edge of the roof. “I think it’s serious.”
He groans, dragging his hands down his face. “You’re unbelievable.”
“She called me dear, Mark. Dear. No one’s ever done that before without wanting to sacrifice me first.”
He turns his head toward you, trying to look annoyed, but his mouth is fighting a smile. “You realize this is deeply messed up, right?”
“Oh, absolutely. But imagine the holidays. You and me—well, mostly me—sitting at her table, passing the mashed potatoes, basking in her approval. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”
He sits up, pointing an accusatory finger. “You’re doing this just to mess with me.”
“Of course I am.” You grin, eyes glinting. “But don’t worry, you’re still my favorite child.”
He just rolled his eyes, pretending to be pissed at you.
After that night, his mother became your favorite running gag. It slipped into every conversation like a mischievous ghost neither of you could exorcise.
When Mark was annoyed with you, you’d just sigh dreamily and murmur, “You’re cute when you’re angry, must be genetic.” He’d roll his eyes, muttering something about you needing an exorcism, and you’d grin like the devil himself was proud of you.
On missions, it got even worse. Whenever he gave orders over comms, all stern and tactical, you’d respond with, “Hey, talk to your future step-mom with more respect.”
"Once, Y/N. You met her once." He'd say, grunting a little.
"Love at first time, son!"
"Don't you dare to call me that ever again."
One evening, after a particularly messy job, you both found yourselves back on that same rooftop. Mark sat cross-legged, cleaning blood off his gloves, while you dangled your legs over the edge, sipping lukewarm beer.
“You know,” you said, “I think your mom would be proud of us tonight. You were very heroic. Almost hot.”
He didn’t look up. “You’re impossible.”
“She deserves to know her future wife is saving lives,” you went on, unfazed. “Do you think she’d want a spring wedding? I feel like she’s more of a winter aesthetic kind of woman.”
Mark finally looked at you, face caught somewhere between exasperation and laughter. “You do realize my mother asks about you now, right? She sends soup. To you. Not me.”
You smirked. “That’s love, baby. You can’t fight fate.”
He shook his head, laughing quietly, the tension in his shoulders dissolving like fog. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?”
“Never,” you said. “You and I might be cursed, but your mom and I? That’s destiny.”
One particular night, you end up the the medical wing of the Guardians Headquarters, being a little affected by anesthesia and some headache, you wake up with the sight of two beautiful big brown eyes and a kind smile.
You squint at him, trying to place the blur of his features. The pain meds have your brain floating just above your skull. “Is that my beautiful wife, Debbie?”
Mark blinks. “What—”
"Ah, no. It’s her fuck-ass superhero son.” You breath out, feeling your upper body sore. “Damn. That’s disappointing. I was hoping for a kiss and maybe some casserole.”
“Yeah, well,” he says, leaning back in his chair, “you get me instead. Lucky you.”
You grin, half-lidded and delirious. “Does your mom know how cranky her boy is when his new mommy nearly dies?”
He groans, dragging a hand down his face. “I swear, even half-conscious you’re impossible.”
“Don’t be jealous,” you whisper. “She’ll always love you more.”
Mark laughs quietly then. You catch it anyway. It sounds like relief. Like he’s still trying to believe you’re really here.
He reaches over, hesitates for a second, then squeezes your hand. “You scared the hell out of me, you know that?”
“I scare everyone,” you murmur. “It’s part of my charm.”
He shakes his head, smiling in spite of himself. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Tell that to your mom,” you slur, already slipping back toward sleep. “She believes in me.”
Mark laughs again, fonder. He doesn’t correct you this time.
mark grayson masterlist a/n: i missed my boy so much<3 also he's finally coming back on march 2026, i can't wait for him to go through 165 different horrors
OHH your stuff for mark grayson is so cute 💗 how about hcs or a drabble of him being grumpy and his s/o tickling him to cheer him up! since it always does for him, i bet he's kind of childish in that way
Hello Mousy 💗, I'm feeling a little worse today with my stomach flu so I chose to do a small w/e this is, hope that's okay !! And you are very right, Mark can be a little childish but he just wants your attention and some loving.
CW: Fluff, "babe" as an endearment, unedited, GN!Reader
Mark Grayson, son of Debbie and Nolan Grayson. Half-human, half-Viltrumite and a god damn superhero of all things.
Mark Grayson? Also, the world's poutiest man alive when you reject his attempts to get your undivided attention.
Work had been piling up for you, and it was starting to affect not just you, but your needy boyfriend as well.
He was finally able to call in for a mini-vacation, just to enjoy the long weekend but unfortunately, the long weekend was not a luxury you could afford. Your company was in dire need of preparations to be made and proofed before the overhaul happening next week.
In the morning, Mark wanted extra cuddle time after your alarm had gone off, but you were in desperate need to get ready so you could finish your work faster; fine.
During your lunch break, Mark took the time to craft up some lovely sandwiches, hoping the two of you could sit and eat it under the sun, but you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, took your food and ran back to your desk to work; ... fine.
Throughout the rest of the day, Mark did his best to leave you to work but his vying for your attention and touch was obvious as he followed you around the house in between meetings and document printing.
He would rest his chin on your shoulder, watching you work but as still as he tried to be, the presence of someone quite literally watching you work made you uneasy so you shoved him away, telling him to go watch TV or something.
Mark murmured to himself, eyebrows and nose scrunched at the vexing distaste of being ignored and rightfully pushed away, "The audacity, I just want cuddles..."
Leaning upside down on the couch, legs propped straight up against the wall, he idly watched you as you speak on the phone with your courteous "phone voice". The one where you seemed a little too sweet and too innocent, like the ones the baristas at his favourite cafe often used. Usually, your phone voiced amused him, but not today. Today, he was hellbent on being grumpy about everything you did, unless it was cuddling him.
When you had hung up the phone, he sighed in an attempt to get your attention. The pout was forming, you could feel it, but you had to will yourself to ignore him. A few more passive-aggressive huffs later, you waved your hand asking if he would like to just order take-out for dinner.
There were a lot of things Mark wanted to eat for dinner, but he stubbornly decided against giving you a definite answer or suggestion. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest, eyes closed as he huffed in defiance. Now you were trying to get him out of the house and away from you! This was not fine.
"Mark?"
You called his name once more following a lack of response. Finishing your last page of the day, you sighed. The looming shadow of a clingy boyfriend started to fill the once, supposedly ambient workspace. Even if you weren't done work for the day, you probably would have caved.
You stopped short of the couch, hands are your hips as you stared down at your grumpy boyfriend. His head lulling off the seat of the sofa from the way he had orientated himself.
"Mark," you called out again, this time growing a little impatient with the childish attitude. His eye twitched behind his closed lids at the sound of his name but remained unmoving otherwise. "Fine, I guess I'm only ordering the barbecue rice dinner set for myself tonight."
It was unusual for Mark to not cave at the sound of one of his favourite orders were mentioned. Lee's BBQ was one of Mark's go-to places when he was feeling some savoury with a hint of honey and Lee's always had the best cure for that craving. With a tired huff of your own, you bent over your own body, stretching out your aching muscles and rubbed the soreness out from your shoulders before leaning over Mark with wiggling fingers.
He grimaced at the feeling of your shadow hovering over his body, but not a moment later, a strangle cough mixed with laughter erupted from your boyfriend, filling the room in a cacophony as he started to roll around on the couch. It was a rather futile attempt to escape your dancing fingers, as they raced across various parts of his torso, finding all his weak spots as he writhed.
In between wheezes of your name breathless pleads to stop tickling him, Mark finally caved in, shouting his order amidst falling off the sofa and onto the floor by your feet, gasping for air as he the residual laughter wore off, "P-please, just the usual combo with extra sauce on the side."
You hummed in response, pulling out your phone to call in your orders. Sitting up from the floor, Mark fanned himself, a now brighter smile on his lips as he watched you purse your lips in anticipation.
"Hello, Lee's BBQ are you calling for take-out?"
The familiar sound of Mrs. Lee's voice seemed to finally calm the both of you down, your smile stretching as you hopped on the spot, "Hi, Mrs. Lee, it's [Y/N]! Mark and I will be coming by for our usual? The combo c with extra sauce on the side and the— Yes that's right."
Mark outstretched his arm, pulling you closer to him by your knees as you nodded along as Mrs. Lee confirmed your small order, "Oh and what's the soup of the day?"
Pulling away from the phone you mouthed, "Want the soup?" to which Mark nodded along, whispering a please and thank you as you passed on the order. With your order in the process, you hung up with an ecstatic thank you before plopping onto Mark's lap.
"Foooooood!" Mark hollered happily, hands coming up to squeeze your sides as you rested your head on his shoulder. "Finally, I'm starving."
"Starving for attention too, you lil' baby," you teased, finger poking at his nose blindly in an attempt to irk your boyfriend some more for bothering you with all his needy sighs.
Mark huffed in response, pretending to bite at your finger to deter you, "I wanted cuddles this morning, you left too early. I wanted to eat lunch with you, you ran away back to your desk."
Jerking back from his shoulder, you offered him a pointed look, "I was rushing so I could get done faster."
"I don't care if you finish faster, I much rather spend some time throughout the day with you," Mark pouted, eyebrows crinkling as his lips turned downwards.
With a small flick to his forehead, you chuckled, "Yeah, but I care. I want to be able to enjoy my evenings free from work, otherwise, I'll be working all night."
Your boyfriend pursed his lips before muttering a, you're right, pulling you in for a firm hug and a contented sigh. Toying with the hair at the nape of his neck elicited another sigh, the man physically melting into your touch as he finally got the attention he's been vying for all day.
"We should start heading over to pick up the food," you pointed out, only for Mark to pat your butt softly, head shaking as he silently asked for a few more minutes to lavish in the affection you were giving him.
🥺👉🏻👈🏻 of course, though it's a short H/C + blurb since I'm busy this week!
CW: Kissing, awkward kisses, some touching??? GN!Reader
Mark getting ready for his first kiss? He probably Googled advice, read through subreddits and accidentally ended up in a WikiHow column too.
He could ask Will about it, but Mark was a little embarrassed about it
Probably ended up going to Will anyways, but all the brunet could say was, "When the moments right, just go for it. Start slow, no tongue."
"That's it?"
"Yeah pretty much? I mean like you could touch them but I'm no help here, I'm usually on the receiving end." ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Okay, go for it, go slow, no tongue, maybe touch. Touch? Touch where???
Always carries gum or a container of mints as well as a stick of lip balm because you can never be too prepared.
Also because he read too many horror stories on the subreddit about chapped lips, bad breath and biters
He probably also puckered his lips in the mirror a few times or kissed the back of his hand just to check he's doing it right/looks normal
Starts to worry about consent, "I should ask first, but would that ruin the moment? Will said go for it, but what if they think I'm weird or coming on too fast???"
Not enough mirror practice would help Mark with his anticipation for his first kiss with you. The second date was at the movies since Will was very adamant that going to the movies on the first date was not the best idea. Though Mark wanted to give you a kiss then, he couldn't find a good time that didn't seem to scream pushy so he chalked it up to wait till today.
The two of you were wrapping up your third date of catching the sunset during a picnic on a quaint hill just a little outside the city. You brought your camera and took some photos of Mark basking in the golden hour glow and of the sunset itself.
There were not a lot of people around and the moment seemed ambient enough to instigate a kiss. His hands were getting a little clammy just thinking about it, but you looked so damn good in your outfit today and your hair fluttered so seamlessly in the wind. Not to mention, that orange glow was doing your features a lot of justice, perfectly adding a shadow in the right places of your face.
Your face, the way your lashes sat upon your cheekbones as you closed your eyes towards the setting star. Your lips...
Instinctively, Mark gave a harsh—almost choked—swallow to keep himself from drooling all over his lap at the wondrous sight of you before him. He subtly pulled out a mint while you were occupied with the view of the town below you, popping it into his mouth and quickly slathering on some lip balm. His fingers curled into a fist a few times to test if the clamminess would be too much to touch you with.
Too holed up in his own thoughts about kissing you, Mark was oblivious to you scooting closer to him on the picnic blanket you had brought along. The fabric dipped as you sat closer to Mark, head ducking just enough to peer up at your date.
With a delicate extension of your hand, your warm fingertips lifted Mark's attention from his lap to you, "What's got your mind running?"
His eyes widened at the sight of your own, peering into his soul oh-so-gently with a tinge of worry, your brows creasing in the centre as you tilted your head.
You were much closer than you were a moment ago, and that made him gulp audibly, "I-I was uh..."
A little chortle incited from you as you leaned in just a bit, eyes slit with a teasing glimmer and a smirk that toyed at your lips, "You weren't contemplating a kiss under the setting sun were you?"
Caught in 4K, Mark chuckled nervously, eyes darting off to the side to buy himself some time to free him from this incriminating accusation you had right down to a T, "If I was?"
No you insolent fool, that is not what you wanted to say!
"Then I think we should go for it, I'll give you brownie points for the romantic gesture," you offered him a smooth wink. One that only seemed to have him further engrossed in the idea of your beauty and your intelligence. "Otherwise, just tell me if I'm being too pushy."
This whole time, Mark was worried about being the pushy one, trying to drum up the smoothest way to ease into a kiss without being too straightforward, yet here you were with a bundle of confidence suddenly built up.
Will's voice echoed in the back of his head; just go for it. Start slow, no tongue.
Mark followed your eye movements, the way they flickered between his own and his lips and without another further moment, Mark flashed you his most boyish grin.
"Not at all," he murmured before leaning in to meet you halfway. The short distance elicited a small shiver down his spine that was only soothed when he finally pressed his lips to your own.
The finger you had holding his chin from earlier moved ever so slightly to make room for your thumb, using both to guide him just a centimetre closer, as if you couldn't bear the small gap between the two of you.
Mark shifted his weight so he was comfortably resting against one hand, instinctively placing his free one on the curve of your thigh. The languid movements of your warm lips against one another moved in a synchronized dance, not to any rhythm in particular, just one that matched each others' natural decision.
He could have kept going, he didn't want the kiss to end, but alas, you pulled away for a moment to catch your breath. He felt the warmth emanating from your hands as you brought them up to cup his cheeks, "How utterly romantic, almost feels like you had some practice."
The incessant teasing was back, but Mark was far from annoyed though he found himself unable to contain the flush that tinged his cheeks.
"I could say that same for you," he murmured, trying to hide behind his own hand but you only gave him a shameless laugh in response. You tried to cover your own cackle behind your hand as well, pulling away enough to sober yourself up.
In that very brief moment, Mark started to feel cold from the absence of your hand on his cheek. He caught himself pouting.
Your glossy eyes looked over at your date, with a slight grin, "Having my first kiss definitely beats kissing the back of my hand for practice."
Hi hi hi~ Your Mark Grayson pregnancy imagine!! Could you do write Mark Grayson marriage headcanons or imagine?
Hi hi Mousy! Took me a while to realize wedding and marriage were not the same things, but I briefly mentioned a couple wedding/newlywed points.
CW: gn!reader, tooth-rotting fluff
Getting to the point of marriage with Mark, took erm... it took a while. Though the man, himself, was absolutely elated to even daydream the smallest plan for the future with you, he was also always second-guessing himself.
At some point, Mark fell into an easy confidence about both himself and your shared relationship. There were plenty of goofy and loving moments, both of you were still able to maintain some sense of individuality where time away from each other wasn't a much needed vacation or a chore, but it was rather seamless.
The first time he tried to propose, he got too sweaty and nervous—you mistook it for a fever. The second time, he got called away to help with an emergency, though his sigh as he took off in his familiar blue, black and yellow spandex was more of relief than annoyance. Third time's the charm right? Totally, except Will, who had been entrusted with the camera, accidentally tripped on the root of the tree he was hiding behind and the entire, surprise was kind of ruined—you caught on rather quickly, though you still let Mark have his moment.
Your wedding was small. Those of your family you invited, his own family and some friends and teammates all filled the seats at your wedding venue. Your now mother-in-law was in tears, almost sending you into your own little giddy sob, but Mark couldn't let that happen. His usual doting behaviour took over, and he did his best to cheer you up and keep you smiling and laughing all through the night. He also had you calling his name a lot after the reception too...
Now marriage with Mark wasn't too far off from your relationship with him before. As expensive as things for weddings could get, Mark was happy before and he would be happy now. Kissing your wedding band or calling you his [wife/husband] now was just the icing on the cake.
If you two hadn't been living together prior to your marriage, you most certainly were going to now. That meant, finding a proper place to call home and buying furniture.
"Mark, we don't need a random turtle decor piece in our house."
"But it would look good on the coffee table!"
"What coffee table Mark? We still haven't gotten to the living room furniture section yet and we've been in this store for an hour!"
Mark grew to love cooking and little domestic moments with you. He did his best to make dinner at least two to three times a week, especially if work was getting busy for you. His dedicated mornings to training now incorporated time to either cook breakfast before you wake up or to make sure you had some sort of lunch to take with you to work.
Feeling more athletic? Cool, he is totally open to you training with him in the mornings, at least ground training.
Other domestic moments included but were not limited to folding fresh laundry with you in the afternoon and chatting away about frivolous matters. A morning rinse or a shower before bed with you was always nice too. Oh, and you almost always had to kill the bugs, whether you liked it or not, because when it came to critters, it was every person for themselves, and unfortunately, Mark had the upper hand of flying states/countries away at the sight of one.
"I'm InVinCiBLe, I sAvE pEoPLe WhEn I cAn aND I fiGht bAD GuYs tWiCe My siZe, aLien Or HumAn, aHoHo."
"You think you're so funny, huh? You screamed too!"
"YOU LEFT ME IN THE BASEMENT AND SONIC BOOMED OUT OF THE BACKYARD TO PARIS!"
"I brought you back some éclairs though..."
"I could have died, Mark."
"BUT YOU DIDN'T AND NOW YOU'RE [WIFE/HUSBAND] OF THE YEAR! I love you, please accept these delicious pastries as my sincerest apologies. Please?"
The two of you would fall into a little routine of finding one day out of the week where schedules allowed, for a movie night, or a spa day. The two of you often travel too (thanks to his abilities) so you can always get the freshest meals catered to your cravings or a new sight to see when things get dry back wherever the two of you decided to settle.
At least once or twice a month, Will, his teammates and your friends would get together for game nights or a potluck. It was almost always endearingly chaotic between the two of you if you played on separate teams. Mark wanted you to win, but he was also super competitive. You as well, especially when you started to throw out bets like the loser has to mow the lawn next or dish duty for the next week.
Mark was absolutely in love with you, no less than before marriage. If anything, just a tad bit more, and he couldn't wait to see what other chaotic moments he would get with you next.
Also, Mark breaks more things than you can count. First, it was a plate, then the week after it was some collectable drinking glass from a thrift store that neither of you really cared for. But then, things you actually cared for/didn't know were possible to break so early on started to well, break.
"Mark, honey. Why is our blender missing a blade?"
"Um well, you see—wow would you look at the time. I have to go meet Cecil for something."
Or that time...
"Babe, where did our shower curtain and the rod go?"
"Look, funny story, you're gonna get a real laugh out of this one..."
But the best one yet:
"MARKUS SEBASTIAN GRAYSON, YOU BETTER GET ME OUT OF THIS HOLE RIGHT NOW, OR SO HELP ME GO-"
"Oh shit, sorry, I meant to tell you about that."
"You meant to tell me there was a hole in our staircase? I sure hope you would! Why is there a hole in our staircase and why did you put a god damn black towel over it??? It blends in with the stairs!"
Oh and that turtle decor he wanted? He ended up buying it the next time he went to the store (without you), and at that point, you couldn't say no or tell him to return it because it did look good on your coffee table, albeit a little quirky. Mark also has and will continue his habit of picking up souvenirs from his trips, even if it's a fossilized rock from outer space or sand in a bottle from an island on Earth you have yet to visit.
