Main Character Aesthetic Novels & Stories

His words were annoying but I wasn’t getting offended, I couldn’t help but stare at his mesmerizing beauty in front of me. How could a real life man look this way? How was it possible he looks so much like a fictional character with no flaws? “ I need to see Daisie, so please leave the way and let me see her. I don’t want Alpha Grey getting to know.” I finally dropped my gaze from his overly perfect face.

Brushes. Powders. Creams. Things I don't even know the names of. "Close your eyes." I obey. "Look up." I obey. "Don't move." I freeze completely. Makeup has never been part of pack life. No one cared about looking pretty. Strong. Capable. Intimidating. Those were the qualities that mattered. Beauty was never the goal. Strength was. Stacey, however... Has an entirely different mission. Nearly half an hour later, she finally steps back.

Casual, yet sophisticated, there was a certain charm and grace, a dignified and authoritative repose, aesthetic beauty that she couldn't deny. He had a lovely sweeping head of black hair. But honestly, I preferred it when he wore it platinum blonde. It made him look far more distinguished than Blake. The long build of his face accented the high cheekbones, giving them an exaggerated blush of coloring. The fine lines contouring his mouth held a hint of a smile that was carefully controlled by his true expression. I felt something mystical in that face that I never saw in his stupid, nonsensical brother, and it couldn't be easily expressed with words.

“I have this fantasy that if per-adventure… I die, I want it to be the most perfect death. Like it happens in books. My killer is going to be a handsome man, 8 feet tall, he has a strong, chiseled jawline that looks like it’s carved from marble, but it softens the moment he smiles. His hair is thick and perpetually tousled, as if he ran his fingers through it while thinking about me. It’s a deep, rich mahogany color that catches the light and looks gold in the sun. His eyes are his most striking feature, a warm, honey-brown that feels like a physical embrace. They aren’t just beautiful, they are expensive. He’s tall, like I already stated, broad-shouldered, giving him a presence that feels p

someone asked. “I think I do…” “Do you have the main character?” “The main character…” I started thinking. I wanted him to be a serial killer. A cold, twisted and incredibly intelligent man. Someone with a dark soul, but someone irresistible. The kind of guy who’d make anybody lose their heads and hearts. Handsome and tempting brunet with a pale white skin and cold deadly stare… And then it hit me. I’d just described the guy from the supermarket! My perfect main character.

I left some space between us to not make him feel like he was caged. "Hey", he greeted looking me over. When he was done I felt a sting of pain because he seemed uninterested still. He probably didn't recognize me from earlier because of the makeup and the wig that I wore and the contact lenses. I really didn't want anyone to know that I stripped and shot porn movies for a living when I was not working at the boutique as a sales assistant. No, I told myself pushing down the tumultuous feelings that were threatening to spill. I smiled an easy and warm smile hoping that would put him more at ease.

I never knew he had this side to him. He finished cleaning up and walked to the counter, his eyes scanning me which caused my cheeks to heat up. “What are you doing wandering around?” His gaze is so intense it's like he wants to burn my soul. Archer's facial structure is very beautiful, no wonder why he never has to beg for women. He has high cheekbones, paired with a strong, angular jawline that makes him look both powerful and intimidating. His nose is straight and perfectly proportioned. His eyes always look too intense to stare into for a long time.

Fuck. Cars. And fuck more. It was supposed to be the motto of my life. A cheesy slogan people go by nowadays. What do they call it? Yes. Aesthetic. My aesthetic was supposed to be a carefree playboy—fucking everything walking. Fuck. I was well aware and needlessly proud of my looks. I’d fuck myself too if I could.

Perhaps it was this sad reflection about his behavior on the set that gave him that nostalgic look, but at the moment there was something absolutely captivating about him, something… charming. Fans all over the world would faint seeing him like this. They would probably call him the Mystical Prince or the Immortal Beautiful, because he actually resembled a creature out of this world - perfectly physically beautiful and very spiritual. Spiritual to such an extent that even Radosz could hardly control his heart, in which horses were galloping again... Damian decided that he had to engrave this image in his heart, which was like the purest aesthetic beauty. He has to engrave it in his memory an

How does an incubus get to sound like that? Come to think of it, how does a man with such a terrible personality get to look like that? Your attitude should match your looks; that's the way it goes. I'm not all that of a good person, so I believe my looks aren't all that beautiful. I'm not ugly. I think, but not beautiful either. But Aiden—He's nasty. But he doesn't look nasty. Aiden is causal. Plain white shirt and black pants. No design whatsoever, but he looks— and I'm cringing at the thought of this, but Aiden... I won't say it.