Markiplier Imagines

53 // The Floof

Soft; fluffy; floofy; colorful. Mark's floof was one of your favorite things about him. It didn't matter whether or not it looked kept or like he hadn't brushed it in ages, you always loved it. You loved running your fingers through it and rotating the locks through the little spaces between them.

Mark loved when you ran your hands through his hair, especially when he was lying on your lap while you two watched YouTube on his PlayStation. He also loved catching you staring at it or when you would nuzzle your nose into it while he was sleeping – or about to fall asleep – in bed.

Colors in his floof always seemed to make him twice as handsome. You knew he had said that once he was done with YouTube, he would most likely dye it back to its original dark brown color, almost black. That saddened you a small bit, but, off camera, he had told you that he would probably keep color in it, and if not, he was going to indefinitely keep the floof.

"Hey, Mark?"

"Yeah, babe?" You looked at him while he stared up at you from his position in your lap, while the two of you were watching YouTube. 

"I love," you glanced between his red hair and his chocolate eyes. "You," he smiled, about to respond to her when she finished. "-r floof." 

He let out a small, "oh," and turned back toward the television. She placed her hands on the side of his face, turning it back toward her. She then leaned down and gave him a sweet small kiss on his lips, to which he gladly returned.

"I love you, too. Definitely more than your hair," she smiled, getting a smirk in return. "I love you too, y/n, I love you, too."

*a/n, sorry it's so short, i just figured little ones were needed in a large imagine book sometimes.*