β genre : just a fluffy moment between you and this guy you adore more than anything.
β words : 1k
Your day has been long. The kind of long that sinks into your bones, makes your limbs heavy, makes your brain static. You drop onto your bed the second you step into your room, staring at the ceiling, feeling nothing and everything at once. Moving? Not an option. Thinking? Barely. You just wish you could skip aheadβto the part where youβre clean, wrapped up in blankets, and today is nothing but a blur in your memory.
Your phone buzzes. You ignore it. It buzzes again. You groan, blindly reaching for it, glancing at the screen.
Mark.
Your lips twitch into something close to a smile. Suddenly, you have the strength to lift yourself up on your elbows.
Markie - Hey, babe. You done with classes? Wanna see me for a quick kiss?
Yes. A million times yes.
Your reply is instant, desperate in the way you donβt even try to hide. The thought of seeing him makes something in your chest untangle, makes your ribs feel a little less tight. You sit up, glancing around your room, half-heartedly straightening things up. You should shower before he gets here, at least try to make yourself presentableβ
The doorbell rings. Not even ten minutes later.
βShit.β
You roll your eyes at yourself, but honestly? Youβre not mad. Youβre already moving, already reaching for the door, already smiling before you even open it.
And there he is.
Messy brown hair. Ridiculously pretty eyes. That smileβthe one that always makes your stomach feel like itβs folding in on itself. He steps inside without a word, without hesitation, arms slipping around your waist, body fitting against yours like it was made to. A kiss on your forehead, soft, lingering.
βHey, pretty girl.β
You exhale against his chest, sinking into him.
βHi,β you mumble against his chest, breathing him in. Suddenly, today doesnβt feel so bad anymore.
βYou got here so fast.β You pull back just enough to look at him. βWere you nearby?β
βMhm. And I was kind of excited to see you, so I didnβt waste time.β His fingers slide through yours, effortlessly, like second nature. Leading you toward your room, toward the quiet comfort of your space. βShould I have given you more time?β
βNo, itβs justββ You hesitate. βI thought Iβd have time to shower before you got here. I feel gross. I wanted to look cute for you.β
His head tilts. Something amused, something fond in the way he looks at you.
βThatβs an easy fix.β
Before you can ask what he means, heβs steering you toward the bathroom.
You blink. βWaitββ
βIf you need a shower, letβs shower.β His voice is soft, but firm, like heβs stating the most obvious thing in the world. βI love being clean. And I love seeing you naked. This is a win for me.β
βYouβre impossibleββ
You donβt finish, because his lips are on yours, and your brain goes quiet.
Itβs slow, unhurried, his hands moving with the kind of gentleness that makes your heart ache. He pulls your shirt over your head, unbuttons your jeans, sliding them off inch by inch. Every movement deliberate. Worshipful. And then his own clothes hit the floor, and the warmth of his skin against yours makes your breath hitch.
The water turns on.
He watches you with something close to amusement as you shiver at the warmth seeping in, presses a dozen tiny kisses across your face, like heβs mapping you out.
βSo,β he murmurs, βhow was your day?β
You huff, tilting your head up to look at him. βNot great. Until now.β
βOn a scale of 1 to 10?β
You pretend to think about it. βBefore you texted me? A 3. After your text? A 7. Once you got here? 8. In the shower? 9.β
He hums, pleased. βExcellent. That means Iβm doing my job right.β Then, lower, softerββTurn around.β
You do, closing your eyes, waiting.
For a second, his hands disappear. Your brows knit together. But thenβ
The scent of your body wash.
The warmth of his palms returning, slow and deliberate, moving over your skin in soft circles.
And just like that, the weight of the day dissolves.
βMarkβ¦β
βShhh,β he murmurs, pressing his lips to your shoulder. βLet me take care of you. Itβll feel nice.β
And it does. God, it does. You let yourself sink into it. Let yourself exist here, in this moment, where everything is warm and quiet and safe. He rinses you just as carefully, and by the time the water shuts off, you feel boneless.
Thenβsoftness. Warmth. Heβs wrapping you in a towel, his hands impossibly gentle. You grip his shoulders, barely thinking, just following. He leads you back to your room, and you let him.
You sit on the bed, half in a daze, watching as he kneels in front of you, rummages through your drawer like itβs his own. He pulls out a pair of underwear, slides it up your legs, his touch featherlight.
βI can do that myself, you know.β
βI know.β He presses a kiss to your knee. βBut you need someone to take care of you tonight. Let me.β
He smooths the fabric into place, then smirks. βThough, I usually prefer taking these off of you.β A wink.
You laugh, breathless, fingers sliding into his hair.
βAnd now?β His voice is quieter, lower. Eyes locked onto yours.
β10/10.β
The smile he gives you is something secret, something warm, something that makes your chest ache.
He smiles, pulling you down into bed with him, tucking you against his chest. His arms wrap around you, warm and steady, and you thinkβthis. This is the safest place in the world. You could stay like this forever, feeling his breath against your neck, letting the rest of the world fade away.
And in this moment, you know. Youβll cherish this. This little pocket of happiness, this unexpected ending to an otherwise forgettable day.
βAnd now?β he whispers against your ear.
You smile, eyes fluttering shut.
β20/10.β
He kisses your temple.
And just like that, you fall asleep. Wrapped in warmth, in safety, in love.
Mark will always be your safe place. And nights like this always remind you why.
βGoodnight, babe.β
Your last thought before sleep takes you is simple.
