sam has a set, specific, and simple way that she does her own makeup. rarely does she deviate from that routine; she never really has time or reason to. you know this, of course, and you love her usual look. really, you love how she looks any and all of the time because you think she’s the prettiest woman you’ve ever seen.

but when you ask on a slow day if she’d let you do her makeup for you, she has to try her hardest not to seem too excited. she grins at you softly and says, “of course.”

she doesn’t care how it’ll end up looking; you could do the simplest or most extravagant of things and it could look flawless or it could clearly show a shaky hand. she just loves the idea of you being so close to her, making her look pretty however you like.

sam’s the one to pull you into her lap on the edge of the bed. her hands settle on your hips to keep you in place and her lips quirk into an almost-smirk when it makes you just the slightest bit flustered. you’ll have plenty of opportunities to make her blush while you’re doing this, so she thinks she’s allowed to get you first.

you pick up the eyeliner first, just like she expected. it’s your favorite sort of makeup to see on her, and she knows it well.

she lets her eyes drift closed for you, smiling softly. “you’re very predictable, baby,” she murmurs, teasing and completely affectionate.