Masculine Makeup Novels & Stories

George frowned. "Of course not, I feel he is very fashionable!" Sigrid was a little excited. "For me, I think that those kinds of men that purposely speak softly and act like a girl are feminine. But I feel it is acceptable for males to have skincare and put on makeup. It's not like pregnancy, only females can get pregnant." George was speechless. He felt that he'd failed to trash talk Xavier. Instead, he just gave him a good impression in front of his wife. Would it be too late to take back what he had just said?

Even if I was lazy at times, I still enjoyed these small moments of self-pampering. Once my skin was prepped, I blow-dried my hair and opted for minimal makeup. A touch of moisturizer, a hint of cheek tint, and a few coats of mascara were enough to accentuate my features. To contrast the simplicity of my makeup, I carefully applied a deep red lipstick, the bold color adding a touch of sophistication.

I look at him, he looks so focused. "Close your eyes." I do so and he takes another piece of cotton, Gently passes it over my eyelids and removes the mascara. “It's okay, I'm done,” he said, throwing everything into the basket right next to the table. His hand still on the back of my neck, he caresses my cheek with his thumb. He smiles. “How do you manage to still be more beautiful without makeup?” “I don’t do it since it’s false. THE makeup is made to beautify. As if unless you imply that I don't know how to do my makeup."

Thinking of it at that moment, I was grateful that I didn't have those features yet. “Since you don't have the features that distinguish you as a female yet, it should be easy to get you into the training camp with a little makeover. Your long hair would have to go through, and I think a little tampering with your eyebrow should be done, too,” Will explained. ‘I learned a trick when I visited my maternal grandmother’s pack. There is a leaf called aura blow. If you use it, it will make you smell masculine, and if you are a male, it will smell feminine,” Amethyst said.

Dan had described to his mistress. I opened my makeup drawer and bypassed the muted roses and the soft corals he preferred. I reached for a heavy, square tube I had bought in secret, hidden beneath the velvet lining of my jewelry box. I uncapped it, revealing a shade so deep and visceral it looked like an open wound. Blood Red. I applied it with surgical precision. The pigment was thick, matte, and unapologetic. It didn’t soften my features; it sharpened them into a blade. It turned my mouth into a weapon. This wasn’t makeup; it was war paint.

It was sophisticated, dangerous, and incredibly sexy all at the same time. I sat down at the vanity to do my makeup, taking my time with every step. I made it look absolutely impeccable, using sharp contouring to highlight my facial contours and cheekbones, giving me the fierce, striking look of a high-fashion supermodel. I did a subtle smokey eye and finished it with a nude, glossy lip.

It's cute and it's color PINK! "Tss. Don't listen to her, Agape. This will be perfect to you. You need to show him the freaky side of yours at least once. And I'll tell you, he will never cheat on you. Like, NEVER. A hot, red lipstick will be its perfect partner. Plus a cat eyeliner. That will be enough." Katie pulled me away from Rosseau. And she immediately followed us, shouting at us. We reached the makeups section.

he chirped. I blinked. Wait a second—why did he sound so... effeminate? And then I got a good look at him. He was wearing a cropped pink sweatshirt that said BOYS LIE in glitter across the front, paired with high-waisted jeans and earrings shaped like little daggers. His makeup was perfect—long lashes, silver eyeshadow, glossy lips. I didn't even know someone could do a highlight like that. "Oh, hi," I said slowly, unsure if I was imagining this or still half-asleep.

"Pain is temporary, Monica, but the image of Damian drooling when he sees you in these? Eternal." I never thought I'd laugh so much after what happened, but Julian had a way of forcing it out of me. He made the world look less ugly, like he was painting over all the black with neon colors that screamed too loud to ignore. One afternoon, in the middle of the makeup aisle, he stopped and studied me seriously, holding a lipstick up like it was a holy relic. "This," he declared, uncapping the tube to reveal a bold shade. "This is your war paint."

He was surprised to see the products there, hidden amongst Juke's cologne collection like secret weapons. "When did you take these?" Dale had raised his eyebrows as he handled the liner and gloss, juggling them between his fingers. "When I was in your room...before we left. Wear them. I like it on you." He'd applied the makeup without hesitation, not thinking about how others would perceive him—not until now. His body tensed as the two men opened the large door, the hinges silent despite their apparent age. "Relax, you look fine." Juke's warm and reassuring voice penetrated his thoughts. It was easy for him to say—he wasn't the one wearing makeup to meet his family.