hi lovely! so excited for your summer event! may i please request removing their make up and hair products for them after a hard day with cale? thank you! :)
list no.2, fluff prompt no.27: removing their makeup and hair products for them after a hard day
by the time you get home, your skin feels awful. sticky from the heat, makeup settled too heavily after a long day out, hairspray making your scalp ache every time you move. it’s nothing even crazy—just your usual light makeup for work, and a slicked back hairstyle because you’d been too lazy to get up and wash your hair this morning—but it feels like you’re caked and pinned to oblivion.
and it’s definitely because it’s sweltering outside, and inside for that matter. sweat soaking under your arms and making your upper lip salty—which is just only adding to the overstimulation you’re feeling right now.
so the second you walk into your condo, you kick your shoes off near the door with more aggression than the situation calls for, and let out a tired groan.
immediately it gets the attention of your boyfriend, cale, who looks up immediately from where he’s stretched across the couch, phone in hand because he’s definitely scrolling sports highlights like he’s not sick of them.
“there she is,” he grins like you’re the best part of your day, which makes the whole bad day grimace on your face falter, because you’re so in love with him it’s not even funny.
you put your keys in the little bowl on the side table before shuffling towards him. barely managing a half convincing smile before collapsing dramatically beside him. “I think I’m dying.”
he laughs softly, setting his phone down. “long day?”
“sooooo long.” you whine just as cale holds his arm up for you to tuck yourself into his side, which you do without question.
the condo is cool compared to the humid summer evening outside, even with the balcony door cracked open just enough to let warm air and distant city noise drift through. you can smell his cologne woven into his shirt, along with laundry detergent and whatever way he cooked his chicken for lunch. you get if you got up and checked, you’d find a portion left over for you.
it’s so familiar and homey that you honestly could fall asleep on the spot. well, almost.
because your makeup still feels like cement on your face and your scalp is starting to itch from product build up—and you’re definitely still clammy to the touch.
but cale is seemingly unaware—or maybe just unphased—by all of the above. because he settles in like this is the position until bedtime, even presses two sweet little pecks to your oily forehead like your makeup isn’t currently separated.
you groan again, rubbing at one eye. “I still have to wash all this off.”
his brows pull towards his nose, eyes flickering over your face while you continue to pout. “what?”
“my makeup,” you huff and pull away from him, although it’s a struggle because you’re exhausted and want nothing more than to get those little kisses again. “I feel dirty,” you state.
cale catches your wrist gently before you can continue to smear mascara everywhere. “hey,” he chastises even more gentle than his touch, cheeks rosy like always, “don’t. you’re gunna get it all over.”
you roll your eyes, even though your stomach swoops at that. “i’m tired.”
“I know.” his thumb brushes lightly over your knuckles before he tilts his head toward the hallway. “c’mon,” he says quietly, already helping you off the couch. “let’s get you cleaned up.”
and your heart turns to mush.
a few minutes later, you’re sitting on your shared bathroom counter that’s attached to your bedroom, while cale stands between your knees with the softest expression you’ve ever seen on him.
with a gentle hand, he uses a makeup removing wipe to get rid of the bulk of makeup on your face, using nothing out tender strokes around your eyes, over your cheeks and forehead. traces your cupids bow like he can’t help himself, which makes your snicker to yourself.
but despite yourself, it feels like heaven.
“this is very intimate,” you mumble after a beat.
your boyfriends just hums, because he’s like, way too focused to properly comment on that. which is unexpectedly endearing.
one hand rests lightly against your jaw to steady you while the other continues to wipe away the smudges mascara beneath your eyes. brows furrowed slightly in concentration, so much so that you have to resist leaning forward to kiss away the dimple there.
“you’re very focused right now,” you note, voice barley above a whisper because the moment feels too fragile to be any louder.
on either side of his hips, your legs swing back and forth like a kid, brushing up against his shorts.
cale grins at that, but doesn’t take his steadying hand off your jaw. “this is precision work.”
you laugh softly, and the sound makes his smile grow a fraction.
little by little, the day starts melting off you. the makeup continues to disappear, but it’s followed by the tension in your shoulders dispersing. then the exhaustion sitting heavy behind your eyes suddenly falling away.
suddenly, the heat feels different. and it has everything to do with the man standing between your thighs like he belongs there—taking care of you like you’re his everything. maybe you are.
after that, you both get into the shower. water not too hot but nowhere near cold. cale washes you down, massages off all signs of sweat and the day, and pays extra attention to your scalp—removing all build up with the ridiculously expensive shampoo he always buys you because he insists you deserve it.
when your conditioner is sitting, hair lathered and heavy down your spine, he leans down and kisses your gently. it lingers, but doesn’t deepen—it’s doesn’t need to—it says a million things words can’t.
“thank you,” you whisper against his mouth, eyes already starting to flutter closed as the combination of the lengthy day, sweltering heat, and your boyfriends gentle care begins to catch up with you.
cale tilts your head further back so you meet his gaze, and he smiles almost like you’ve said something funny. “you don’t need to thank me pretty girl.”
