•••••••••••••••••••••••Requests Open!••••••••••••••••••••••••
Will update upon receiving requests. Check chapter cleverly titled "⭐️Requests Open!⭐️" for more details (it's the 10th chapter!)
You can never have too many classic rock one shots, can y...
Muse: English Model and Actress Jean Shrimpton Musician: English Singer, Songwriter and Actor, David Bowie Time: Mid Seventies
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"My dear, are you positively sure about this?" David asked, gathering his lover's pillowy hair in his hands before taking up her hairbrush. The woman rolled her blue eyes dramatically, letting her head fall back like a child.
"Yes, David, I've only seen it done a thousand times!" Wendy chuckled, returning to mingling the crimson Kool-aid mix into the hot water with a wooden spoon. As a photographer working alongside the likes of Andy Warhol to capture New York's budding punk rock scene, Wendy had seen her fair share of vibrantly dyed heads. She'd even dyed a few herself. The look eventually grew on her, and now she was tinting her own tresses fire engine red.
"You know people will stare at you like you've got three heads, don't you, darling?" David looked down at a grinning Wendy; she was seated in a chair taken from the kitchen table and looking up at him via his reflection in the bathroom mirror. David tenderly guided the boar hair brush through her mane, raking her hair to pool into the loose grip of his free hand with each stroke.
"I'm from New York, babe. I can handle a few stares." She looked back down at the bowl with a distracted smile, continuing to stir. David playfully rolled his eyes at her statement, setting the brush down after ensuring that he'd removed any and all knots. His touch sent chills down Wendy's spine when he ran his long fingers from the roots to the ends of her golden hair, just to double check.
"Oh, you New Yorkers. Can't go five minutes without reminding everybody that you're from New York." He teased, finishing with a dreadful East-Coast accent to mimic her own.
"Hush, Bowie. You know you love it." She smirked, finally satisfied with her job combining the powder with the boiled water. "Okay, now I'm gonna need your help." Wendy pulled the towel from her lap over her shoulders, turning to straddle the dainty chair.
"Dip my hair in it and make sure you get all of it." She instructed as she leaned her head back to hover above the wide bowl of ruby punch. Her delicate hands choked the coral towel at her neck, dead set on protecting her green and pink floral gown. The long, silk fabric elegantly pooled at her feet, giving her the appearance of a marble statue.
"Aye, aye, captain!" The singer jested, gingerly sweeping her hair into his hands and submerging it into the warm liquid. He watched in something akin to awe as her strands soaked up the striking shade.
"Is it touching my roots? I don't feel it." Wendy worried, wanting the color to come out perfect. David let out an amused sigh and carried himself from her side to stand in front of her. Stepping in between the girl's long, parted legs, David rested his weight against the back of the chair that was separating her lower limbs.
"Yes, darling." Bowie reassured, spooning some of the mixture onto the crown of her hair with his hands to ease her anxious mind. Despite his efforts, the girl deeply arched her back to dunk her head as far as possible into the bowl. He chuckled under his breath, watching the edges of her face get stained a bleeding pink.
