Liv Morgan No Makeup Novels & Stories

Why keep up the thin paper window of politeness? Ray ignored both the soup and the offered spoon. He took another drag on his cigarette, voice flat: “You’re not the only one who wants that role. So tell me—why you? On what grounds should I give it to you?” Morgan wasn’t flustered. She didn’t rush. Instead, she hooked a fingertip under the edge of her dress, letting the fabric slide off in one fluid motion. There was nothing else beneath. Her body—toned from years of gym routines—unfolded before him, curves sharp yet soft, a sculpted prize on display.

She then brought out her ring light, she began setting up her camera for filming her makeup removal process. Morgan was a well-known actress and social media influencer, with many years of fame and growing up in a rich home, she had amassed a great number of followers with over thirteen million followers on I*******m. After setting up her camera, she began filming as she interacted with the camera, sharing how her day went. Afterward, she then paused the filming and immediately took a quick shower.

“For your livestream. The sponsor window opens in ten. You’re scheduled to talk about Lilith Noir and do a Q&A.” I blink. “Right. Yes. That thing. Totally prepped.” Emily taps her phone. “Say the name of the perfume at least seven times. Mention the words sensual, empowering, and mystique. Got it?” Nope. But I nod. “And you’ve got a shoot at two. We’re doing natural skin, subtle glam. Think Venus in Paris, not Bratz doll on Red Bull.” “Right.” I nod like I understood any of that. Emily finally glances up. “Try not to look bored.”

It was unbearable. Later in the morning, Olivia was dressed casually in an apricot flay gown, that stopped above her knees, with a sweetheart neckline. She tied her hair into an undone bun, leaving a few curly strands to fall down. Olivia wasn't feeling like herself, her spirit was down so was her mood. She didn't have the energy to look good or to impress Morgan's father, she applied no make-up and didn't care about looking in the mirror. She strode out of the room, walking to the dinning to join Morgan, since the meal had been served, even though she had no appetite.

She removed her hat, mask, and sunglasses, revealing her delicate, small face and perfectly proportioned features. She looked even more beautiful and lively in person than on television. More importantly, Ivy had no makeup on. She did not have eyelash extensions, eyeliner, or even lipstick. She was makeup-free. Even without makeup, she looked so good; if she put some on, she must be a celestial beauty. Fiona found himself somewhat lost in the comparison. She deserved her stardom. Lulu seemed so naive next to her.

Aurora first took a long shower and then she was seated in front of a dresser with a full-sized mirror facing her. While two hair stylists fumbled with her hair, the make-up artist started to apply makeup for her. The wounds and bruises on her face and body were carefully covered by concealers. The stylist gave her a sultry, smoky eye look with dark eyeshadow, winged eyeliner, and coats of mascara. Her gorgeous face was brought out with a touch of bronzer and glittering highlighter, and a nude lip color with a glossy finish. As the stylists worked with her face and hair, Morgana was sitting on the couch flipping through a shopping brochure, choosing an outfit for her.

The first thing I saw was the hair. One thing Morgan always did was make sure I hated my black hair as much as possible. Everyone loved Morgan for many reasons, but one that stood out was her hair. It was a bob, but it was, according to them, the perfect shade of blonde. One time, we were at a launch party for dad, and a woman remarked;

A brown Lululemon crossbody bag was slung across my chest, offering a practical yet stylish touch to my ensemble I applied a light coat of mascara, a hint of blush, and finished with a swipe of Summer Fridays’ Pink Sugar lip gloss. The minimal makeup enhanced my features without overshadowing them. As I took one final look, a sense of satisfaction washed over me—I felt like myself, and that was enough.

" She kissed me on the cheeks then she left. So I did what she said. Grab is way safer. I booked a grab then returned home. As expected, they're having a war. I put my earpods in and played load music. 'Stiil Into You' by Paramore. I entered my room and packed all my clothes on a luggage. Maybe they wont see me leaving because their favorite war spot is the kitchen. Because the plates and glasses are there. So that they can throw it at each other. Damn life. I didn't left a single clothes there. I also did change. I just wore a simple shirt and a high waisted jeans. That will do.

🏰KINGDOM OF AMAZON🏰 👸🏼👸🏼Morgana's POV👸🏼👸🏼 The crowd gave way as I marched into the hall where my mother was passing a speech to the citizens. I was on a black coat whose collar projected up to to my face. My lips were painted red and my eye lashes black, not excluding the short skirt i wore which exposed my laps making me look like the daughter of Lucifer. "I love you Morgana". I heard a voice by my left and i paused turning around slowly. There was he, the young man in the crowd. I smiled softly.