the girl with the mousy hair

“Do send her in, I’m ready for her now.”, David told his personal assistant. She left the room after his request, and promptly fetched you, David’s makeup artist for the tour. As you entered, you were greeted with a pensive smile from Mr. Bowie. You made your way over to the makeup chair where he already sat, ready for you to pretty him up.

“I was wondering if we could try a slightly different look for tonight’s show. And by slightly, I mean completely different.”, David asked you, cheekily delivered and all.

Being the adaptive professional you are, you swiftly agreed, “Absolutely, David. What did you have in mind?”

David did not initially answer you with words, but instead with an action. He reached out for a bright red lipstick residing on the countertop, and applied it to his lips. He then stood up, getting close enough to the vanity mirror, then beginning to pepper said mirror in perfectly placed lipstick kisses.

You watched, confused. And then his words came:

“The mirror is my face. My lips are your lips.”

You froze. It was hard enough to touch his face with just your brushes, or worse, hands on a normal day. To pepper his face with kisses from your lips and remain normal about it? It seemed impossible.

As if sensing your nervousness, which to be clear was quite obvious, he spoke again.

“It’s just me, it’s just art. Nothing to be afraid of, darling. I don’t bite- unless you want me to.”, he playfully added. He knew your response would be that of a flustered one. And flustered you were.

Unsure what to even say back to him, you slowly grabbed the lipstick from his hand, and started applying it on yourself. He cheered as you did such, and smugly awaited your touch.

“Where would you like me to start, David?”, you shyly asked him.

“Here love, I’ll just point and you just pucker, okay?”, he replied and you nodded profusely. Probably a little too profusely.

The first kiss was on his forehead.

His long, pale, finger pointed to the center of his forehead, lightly tapping there until you made contact. You cautiously started to lean closer to him, your eyes fixed on his, his eyes fixed on your lips, your lips ready to pucker, his lips resting in a smirk. You could hear him whispering “Any day now, sweetheart”, and just as he did so, you found your lips crashing into his face, a soft murmur you could have sworn was a moan escaping his lips as you did so. As you pulled back, you were certain your face was red as a tomato. Yes it was “just art”, but it was so intimate, so personal, your lip print adorning his face. He looked beautiful with just the single kiss on his face, but he wanted more. And he made sure you knew he wanted more, by tapping his left cheekbone next.

It wasn’t confidence, instead more of an experience thing (now having done this once before) that lead this cheekbone kiss to happen much quicker than the last. You let this one linger a little longer, and David surely noticed as he chuckled slightly as you pulled away again.

You slowly started to gain a rhythm. Tap. Kiss. Tap. Kiss. Re-apply lipstick. Tap. Kiss. The more you kissed him, the more you found yourself getting comfortable around him. It seems he too could sense this, so he started pointing to face-adjacent locations for you to decorate. He started with his jaw, his ears, then his neck, to almost his chest. By now, he had thought it clear that his intentions were lustful. But yet again being the professional you are, you still managed to convince yourself that this was just another makeup gig. Just another pay check. You were about to be proved wrong.

He pointed once again to his chin, which slightly perplexed you, seeing as you had already kissed him in that spot. Not wanting to lose momentum though, you leaned in without question. As your lips approached landing, David’s head suddenly jolted down, ensuring that your lips met his lips, instead of meeting his chin. He smiled into the kiss, and although it startled you, your increasing desperation and hunger for him allowed you to get lost in it all. Neither of you pulled away for a while, instead you began bringing yourselves closer to one another, him grasping your face, and you weaving your fingers through his hair. When you did finally pull away from each other, there were no words from either one of you. Intense eye contact and heavy breathing told the both of you everything you needed to know.

penelope:

uma thurman - fall out boy

life on mars - david bowie

kiss me - sixpence none the richer

hotch:

while my guitar gently weeps - the beatles

livin’ thing - electric light orchestra

comfortably numb - pink floyd

jj:

more than a woman - bee gees

pocketful of sunshine - natasha bedingfield

got to get you into my life - the beatles

rossi:

rags to riches - tony bennett

magic moments - perry como

autumn in new york - billie holiday

blake:

bridge over troubled water - simon and garfunkel

help me - joni mitchell

sweet surrender - sarah mclaughlin

lewis:

touch me - the doors

roxanne - the police

it’s only rock and roll - the rolling stones

fanfictions

hugh grant // https://www.tumblr.com/catchthewindd/727992537602834432/these-eyes-part-one-hugh-grant

david bowie // https://www.tumblr.com/catchthewindd/739772263625326592/craving-kisses-david-bowie

other works

stranger things character’s beatles opinions // https://www.tumblr.com/catchthewindd/709567979289034752/this-is-so-niche-but-here-we-go-stranger-things

criminal minds character’s rupaul’s drag race opinions // https://www.tumblr.com/catchthewindd/745509682143232000/this-is-so-niche-and-specific-but-this-is-who-i

criminal minds music taste headcanons // https://www.tumblr.com/catchthewindd/753409317337726976/some-criminal-minds-characters-and-three-songs-i

“the incident”, or “that one time hugh made out with my best friend right after i confessed my feelings to him” as you like to refer to it as, absolutely shattered you. and on your birthday of all days? definitely a cad-like move on his part.

yet here you are. another year, another birthday, another excuse to cry over him. except you won’t- or you’re trying not to, anyway. you are totally over him. he’s an asshole. he quite literally ruined your life.

needless to say, he’s not invited to your birthday dinner. neither is his girlfriend: your ex best friend.

who is invited, is jamie. jamie is a sweet guy you met at work, who you think has taken a shining to you. you’re starting to warm up to him yourself, but your (unfortunately) unresolved feelings for hugh have annoyingly been getting in the way. you plan on fixing that tonight.

hugh has hurt you. the fact of the matter is, it’s time to move on. you have a perfect new suitor in jamie, it’d be foolish to let him slip away from you.

—

it’s finally party time and guests are showing up in abundance. laughter fills your usually-silent apartment, and the snack food you had set out 20 minutes ago already seems to be gone. it’s as though you’d forgotten you had invited this many people!

the party goes on as parties do, you mingle with the guests, and let them all serenade you with birthday wishes and compliments. you drink. a lot. and with dinner time fast approaching, you make it a mission to seek out jamie. surely he must have arrived by now?

as you walk through the sea of people in your living room in attempt to find jamie, you are caught off guard by a seedy blonde with ringlet curls. you’ve seen those curls before. those curls surely weren’t invited to your birthday soirée. and to your utmost shock and despair, those seedy ringlet curls had brought their fuckwit fluffy brunette boyfriend to match. she spoke with utmost confidence, “darling! so good to see you, it’s been far too long. you remember hugh, of course?

dumbfounded, you had to make a quick escape- so that’s exactly what you did, finding shelter in your room. you couldn’t face this strange reality, not now, not today. it was your birthday! this was not part of the plan!

but instead of being greeted with lonesome bliss, you saw jamie foraging around your things. he looked up at you with sad eyes. knowing eyes. you didn’t even find reason to question his whereabouts, you simply ran over to him and melted. crying into his shoulder, letting your perfectly applied birthday makeup run down your face and onto his shirt sleeve. he didn’t ask for an explanation of your sorrow, he only held you and comforted you through your time of need. jamie was so perfect for you. he was everything you could ever want in a man.

yet you felt nothing. in fact, your tears only amplified from it. this incredibly sweet, handsome, doting man was right in front of you. holding you as you broke down. yet your heart was still attached to the absolute douchebag downstairs.

once again needing to flee, you apologized to jamie profusely and swiftly left his embrace. you were running out of “safe” spaces- your apartment had only so many rooms. maybe it was logic, or maybe it was the alcohol, but you soon found yourself fully opening the already half opened bathroom door. desperate times call for desperate measures. letting out a sigh and slamming the door behind you, you sunk to your knees in another sob. at this point, party guests were surely confused to where their host had gone, and likely even more confused as to why they kept hearing loud sobbing coming from the bathroom, only breaking cries to shout a profanity or two every now and then. you were a wreck in there, so much so that it wasn’t until 10 minutes after your less-than-graceful entry to the bathroom that you realized you weren’t alone. once again, a pair of sad, knowing eyes looked at you. but these eyes didn’t belong to jamie.