Disclaimer: I can hope, wish and dream that I own SpongeBob, but it's just wishful thinking. Stephen Hilenburg is the owner.

A/N: Another chapter! This can be seen as a continuation to chapter 6; Jealousy and Possessiveness'. The rating for this chapter is either a high T or low M. Thanks for the reviews and enjoy!

Title: Marking My Territory

"Whateva you say, Sandy." he replies, nonchalantly pouring himself a glass of lemonade.

I cringe at the tone of his voice and become slightly irritated at the imperceptible smirk beginning to form on his mouth. If that yellow egomaniac sponge thinks he has a chip on me, then he ain't screwed on right!

"I ain't jealous, SpongeBob!"

"I never said you were."

"Ya did!"

"No I didn't Sandy. I just said that I might've detected a note of possible jealously in you're voice."

"Well...y-you're implying it, ain't ya?"

"You think I'm implying it." he responds back confidently.

I close my mouth. A lil' afraid that I'll say somethin' childish that'll only strengthen his foolish argument. I'm not jealous, I tell myself. I know I'm not. I ain't! I'm just, just...curious. Yes, that's it. When thinkin' back to it, SpongeBob's explanation was incredibly vague about what exactly happened on April Fool's day concernin' them two females. Couldn't I as his girlfriend inquire further into it?

"I ain't jealous of Debby and Emily. I'm simple curious. It's my nature as a scientist and prerogative right as yer girlfriend." I declare. "I let it slide for a moment, but seriously, SpongeBob. What exactly did Emily and Debby do to ya on April Fool's day?"

He frantically starts lookin' around the room. "Uh, well...it was a joke, that um..." he trails off, fiddling with his thumbs. This worries me. I'm worried not jealous. WHAT did THEY do?

"Look at yerself. Not only are y'all trailin' off worser than a lost sheep, but you're blushin' redder than chili relleno sauce."

"Chili relleno sauce." he says in wonder. "What's that? How does it taste like? Is it from Texas? Is it spicy like a-" I cut him off, knowing exactly what he's doin'. That sneaky lil' sponge.

"-Nice try, but I ain't lettin' you change the subject."

He places his glass down. His eyes scrutinising me. "I don't get it. Honest to Neptune I don't. Even though you're jealous-" he stops his sentence when hearing my growl. "What I mean to say is that even if you were possibly jealous, it'd be silly to be anyway."

My eye brow quirks up at this. "What're ya sayin'?"

"Just look at my backside, Sandy."

At his unusual request, I do – wonderin' where he's goin' with this. I begin to giggle. 'Property of Sandy Cheeks' perhaps I'm possessive rather than jealous. How long has there red writing been there for?

"Y'all do know that sign's was primarily there for safety reason, right?"

"If you say so, but you've gotta admit that with this on my captain quarters, everyone knows I'm taken by you, yet people don't know you're taken by me."

With my brown eyes, I scrutinise him this time. "You're still on that!"

"I guess so." he admits, folding his arms and...is he pouting?

I rub my forehead in frustration. What will get through to this sponge?

. . . .

I specifically told him that suggestions had to be plausible, meaning; reasonable or plausible. I specifically forgot who I was talking to.

"And if it was blue like my eyes?"

"SpongeBob." I say with a warning tone.

He sighs. "No collar?"

"No collar."

"But what's wrong with-"

"-I'm not yer pet, SpongeBob!" I snap.

His hands go up in surrender, his eyes in shock. "I didn't mean it like that, Sandy! Please believe me! I don't think of you as pet, I mean Gray technically is my pet, but I think of him as a friend – sometimes a son."

Calming myself down, I give him a suggestion. "I'm willin' to wear a t-shirt with your face or name all over it."

"Hmm...that sounds good, but you'd have to wear it under yer space suit meaning others wouldn't see it."

I huff and puff, leaning my back to the arm rest of the couch. I close my eyes, possibly broodin' over the insecurities SpongeBob has. I'm his and he's mine, why can't he get that? Is all this necessary?

"Sandy?"

"Yes, SpongeBob?"

"I...I think I may have gotten an i-idea." he admits, staring intently at my face, or is it chin?

"'K then. Let's hear it." I demand, noticing he's sheepishly rubbing his head and reddenin' again; adorably so.

He scoots closer to me, kneeling up on the couch and placing both of his arms on my shoulder. Not pushing me down like last time, but just holding me there.

"SpongeBob, what's wrong?"

Ignoring my words, he asks, "Do you trust me?"

Despite the uncertainty of this situation, I nod my head, replying a, 'course I do!'. I trust him. It's SpongeBob after all - my best friend as well as boyfriend. I trust him with my life.

"That's good. Sandy, I remember you sayin' that...well you said I could touch you anywhere and everywhere, right?"

"Y-Yes." I stutter, thinking to myself if he's thinkin' along 'those' lines.

"Okay, so that was the truth." he speaks to himself more than me. I observe him, trying to find out what is goin' through his mind right now. I think insanity as he begins to take off his bubble helmet.

"SpongeBob, what're you doin'?!"

"You'll see...oh. I almost forgot to tell ya. Don't worry 'bout the bubble helmet Sandy. Secretly I've been testin' how long I can survive in air for, and my highest record is 7 minutes."

My eyes widen at this. Has he really lost it this time?

"SpongeB-" effectively and clichély, he cuts me off by placing his lips on mine.

This surprises me.

I won't deny we haven't had some sweet lip action with one another (not tongue unfortunately), but that was when it was snowing, raining or when the water sprinkles for the grass was on. We haven't made out on my couch, bed (not that we would...yet) where there's no water resources.

Before I can respond back, I feel his lips move elsewhere, more like travel to the side of my face until feel a peck on my neck. Involuntarily, I shiver. He's never kissed me there. When gettin' intimate with one another, SpongeBob has been more nervous than a long-tailed cat in a room of rockin' chairs. An innocent teenager in a way.

When I feel his hot breath near the shell of my ear - there ain't nuthin' innocent 'bout that.

"Sandy," he say in a low tone that is not childishly him. "I need you to relax."

Denyin' that tone of voice ain't easy.

. . . .

I refrain from moaning, arcing ma head up so he has better access. I want him to reach everywhere. I can't deny that his lips aren't unbelievingly soft, titillating and so dang inviting on my neck. It changes though, tentatively so as his kisses become hotter and more passionate as they focus on certain areas more.

It's beginner's luck. It has to be. SpongeBob hasn't even entered his inner vampire instincts and bitten me hard enough to draw, if he had any that is.

The worlds of this on-going experience aligned themselves in my mind. It goes like this; pleasurable, primitive, passionate, and, and...I shiver again, forgetting the fourth adjective.

Dangnabbit! That's a sensitive part.

I let out a purr I didn't want to, but I'm in no possession of my body at this moment. I think he's doin' his actions as a pattern, maybe drawing a picture on my neck with his lips. SpongeBob first presses a kiss gently, then his moist tongue licks that spot before he begins nibbling. The nibbling is not the tortuous part, it's the sucking. Oh, dear Neptune. Curse that sponge 'cause he's...h-he's...he's turning me on! Can't he hear ma breathin' abnormal levels, or my surely reddened cheeks or my eyes with are glazed over in pleasure.

Good thing he can't see my imagination - it's running a lil' wild, thanks to him.

I bite another moan that threatens to come out. I doubt SpongeBob realises this, but that's okay...I rather have him focus on this task of his. It's important after all to finish what ya started.

I bite another moan that threatens to come out, but when his mouth circles a figure of eight, I can't help myself. "O-Oh...B-Bob..."

He hears my husky voice and stop his ministrations."Oh! You alright Sandy? Did I-"

"-Why'd ya stop."

"Huh?"

"Y'all said 7 minutes."

He tilts his head in confusion. "What d'you mean?"

How the heck can he not understand? "Bob, I mean SpongeBob...finish what ya started." I explain. "Preferably now." I command.

. . . .

I swear...time has always held a grudge against me and SpongeBob.

When he stops, I'm startin' to pray to Neptune that SpongeBob develops an affinity to air. He puts back his water-filled bubble helmet, panting inside it. I know he's the one who did the most work, yet I find myself more breathless. How does that work?

"H-How'd you find that?"

"Hold yer horses there...I'm try'na find ma breath first."

He chuckles, probably entertained by my blushin'. He's always loved that for some reason.

"I wasn't expecting that, y'know. You've never kissed me on ma neck before, so it was a surprise to me. A pleasant surprise." I ask him a burnin' question. "Where'd you learn to kiss like that? You seemed to know what you were doin'."

"About that...well uh, that film we watched a while back is a lil' educational in some aspects."

I blink at him in disbelief. "You didn't."

He nods his head bashfully.

I feel like doubling over. Being a lover of learning, this lil' sponge actually took notes, since data literally absorbs into him easily.

"So, can you feel the love bites forming?"

"Love bites? What're ya...Love bites!" I exclaim, self-consciously touching my neck on either side. Of course, the sucking, nibbling and biting makes sense.

"So y'all were givin' me a bunch of Hickeys?

"Hickeys? I thought I gave you love bites."

I sigh at him. "You did. Hickey is another word enhancer." I reply, noticing he's mesmerised by the new word. Tracing my neck again, I note that the emergence of Hickeys will be more pronounced in five to ten minutes. "Hmm, it seems like you've created a pattern here."

"Yup! My initials." he replies with a grin.

I raise a brow at his words; 'Marking His Territory'. My mouthopens for a retort. What he's done is down right primitive. He's done it to mark me, to make me his so anyone who sees will understand I'm taken. As sneaky as it was...I won't lie that his possessiveness ain't interestin' (we'll hav'ta sort that out), plus I can't deny that his love bites weren't hot (which we'll hav'ta continue anuther day).

. . . .

"Since you're not jealous. I can tell ya that that I promised 'em I'd help with their fashion sleepover."

"What kind of sleepover?" I inquire, folding my arms in curiosity, not jealously.

"Hmm...I think Debby and Emily said swimsuits."

Swimsuit?

"I've got good taste in knowing what fits, they said. Also the other is called Lingery, Lingory...Oh yeah, lingerie."

Lingerie. Lingerie! He did not just say that word, did he? He did not just say that word and not understand what it means, did he?

The blood in ma face may have possibly drained out. SpongeBob, my sweet, selfless, naïve boyfriend couldn't see it. Couldn't understand that...No way is he goin'!

"I'll be back tomorrow." he says, cheekily giving me an air kiss. I think of the time limit of 7 minutes once more, stroking my neck. I look at his neck, his yellow, spongy neck. "See ya San-" I pounce on him, which cuts off his sentence.

If one thing's for sure, he's startled on the couch since I pulled off his bubble helmet. Plus, I am straddlin' him after all. He tries to speak, but that's futile regarding what I'm about to do, or should I say doin'. "S-Sandy, what're ya...Oh...Oh my...d-dear Neptune. S-San...San please..."

I chuckle at the his stuttered words that ain't coherent. I notice him painfully struggling to keep his hands to himself. Hmm...I didn't know I could get him to respond like that. I mentally note that for later use.

"Sandy." he manages to moan out in distorted pleasure and seriousness. I take interest in his flushed freckles cheeks and his darkening blue eyes. I wonder to myself if that's how I sounded and looked like minutes ago. Moving on, I understand the question he wants to ask, and I'm glad he's askin' it. It should be obvious though.

I whisper lecherously, "Markin'," I place another kiss higher, my tongue teasin'. "my," I murmur, nibbling on a sensitive part. The low tone voice is back. "territory."

A/N: The 1st, but not last M-rated chapter. I also researched that animals mark their territories a lot. So, what did you as the reader think of this chapter? Criticism and advice is really needed please.