Grunge Makeup Looks Novels & Stories

“Pity I couldn’t face-fuck her we couldn’t ruin her makeup.” “Mmmnhggg… yesss Daddy… gluuuurgh… I wish I could watch you two fuck someday… gluuuuhhhk… or maybe we could both serve you together.” By now, a huge puddle of thick pussy cream had formed on the hardwood floor beneath her, mixed with her drooling saliva and snot. Her face was a complete mess ruined makeup, tears, spit, and strands of Marcus’s pubic hair stuck to her cheeks. “That’s how a young white whore like you should look… completely ruined by black cock,” Marcus growled.

I was already behind and it seems I may have to start my makeup over. ______ After applying and then reapplying my makeup, I decided that even with my nerves causing my hands to shake, this was as good as I was going to get. I opted for a brown smokey eye with gold sparkles that matched my dress. Even after failing the first time, even I had to admit that I looked really good- it was a fine line between sexy and natural, but I somehow managed it. I put on my nude coloured underwear and did my hair, being wary of the time and Emmett rasp on my door to remind me. Once that was complete, I ran my fingers through it, maintaining the volume but loosening up the curls slightly.

Shrugging, Granny said, “I want you to look in the mirror first and tell me what you see.” Doing what was told, she felt the world crushed her soul. “Who’s that?” What she’d seen was a feature covered with a half-moon mask, its edges lined with golden dust. But the most horrifying of all were her eyes. It had different colors, the right was tainted with pea-green while the other was splashed with an oceanic blue. “It is you, Z. I think the more appropriate question is what you are.”

Their eyes were filled with the terror of men trapped between death in front and death behind. A wine-red bodycon dress, the hem cut short to the upper thigh, over-the-knee boots with thin heels clicking a staccato rhythm on the marble. Her makeup was the kind of piled-on expense—eyebrows drawn without a single stray hair, lashes unnaturally dense, lips painted a dried rose color. But it was a mask. A cold, rigid, polished shell. Every brushstroke of foundation declared whose seed she came from, and also declared what that face was being used to cover up.

Not to mention what looked like three train cases of makeup. They're giving me a fucking makeover.

I finger comb like a maniac, patting oil on the ends, and tying it all back with a blue scrunchie. I throw on some biker shorts and a black sundress with bell sleeves, and give my appearance another once over. I have slight shadows under my eyes, and I’m a little paler than usual, but all in all I look like myself. I don’t think there’s a “sex aura” around me, but I’m paranoid. Athena was all about the sex, but she’s been on edge, she says she feels like she has to stay focused now. I dab on some creamy blush and a light coat of mascara. My eyelashes are naturally pretty dark, and I have to be careful about eye makeup. With hooded eyes, high cheekbones, and a sharp, heart shaped jaw line, my

After a long, extremely hot, shower, I headed to the closet to pick an outfit. “Look tall,” I mumbled to myself. I settled on a Guns N Roses t-shirt I had cropped myself, high waisted wide legged jeans, and Doc Martens. Obviously, topped with a leather jacket. I left my hair down. Blair was right, the waves were pretty. Once I had my contacts in, I smiled to myself in the full length mirror. “Grunge will never die,” I insisted to myself.

The sleeveless black turtleneck showcased her slender arms, and every movement she made seemed to be choreographed, a mesmerising dance of grace and allure. Her makeup was a work of art — the bold red lipstick added a touch of sultriness, the eyeliner framed her eyes with precision, and the mascara enhanced the depth of her gaze. A light pink blush painted her cheeks, bringing out a subtle warmth. The black goggles perched on her face added an element of mystery, accentuating her allure with an enigmatic charm.

She blurted. I groaned while examining my reflection in the mirror as I applied the makeup. Even with the distraction, I was pleased with the outcome. My goth makeup gave me an edgy and sophisticated look. I felt different, like a darker, more confident version of myself. It just needed a few more touches. “Can we just leave it all to the past? I mean, let us all heal and move on, that is what I am doing.” I said while rubbing my lips together.

I saw a woman who was about to go to war. I took my time. I scrubbed the scent of this house off my skin. I dried my hair into that sharp, sleek bob that Alexander’s stylist had carved out for me. When I sat down to do my makeup, I didn't reach for the soft pinks Daniel liked. I went for a darker look...a smoky eye and a lip that looked like crushed cherries. I leaned in and applied an extra layer of liner. I wasn't trying anymore. I was arriving.