Picture Perfect Novels & Stories

Seeing your photo was like a blow to my gut, and a very brutal one at that, twisting my insides painfully, stinging my eyes with acid. You where still looking perfect, as always. Perfectly sculptured lips holding a tight lipped fake smile, brown hair thrown back, your hazel eyes staring at the camera, with a confident and ruthless look, any third person looking at you will consider you the definition of perfection, but you are any thing but that, you are as close as a person can get to being a devil.

He looked at his recent pictures and enlarged them. William smiled. He soon dropped the phone momentarily to avoid the truck and bike that was coming towards him. When he was done, he picked his phone back up. He flipped through to the next picture as he pinched on it to enlarge it. His phone worked that way. The part of the picture he pinched grew bigger instantly and another smile came up to his face. William was looking at the nude portrait of his wife, Sophia. He was smiling because of them.

By the sixth year of our marriage, I found another man's contact information on my wife's phone. She hadn't shown him to me willingly. While she was taking a shower, a message from an unfamiliar number came through with an intimate photo. A shirtless man had his arms around her while posing for the camera with a peace sign. I picked up the phone and opened the conversation. The chat history had been wiped clean. The entire conversation contained only that one photo, and the contact was saved under a single letter. [M] She hadn't saved his full name or anything else, but it was obvious she had cheated on me.

she continued, voice barely above the rain, “the only thing I was afraid of was never getting the chance to choose you again.” His chest tightened. “Lisa…!!” She reached for him then, fingers curling into the front of his shirt, not pulling him close….just anchoring herself. “I don’t want perfect,” she said. “I want honest. I want this—whatever this is—messy and real.” Grey rested his forehead against hers, breath mingling, rain blurring the space between them. “You have me,” he said. “No filters. No omissions. Even the parts I hate.”

Zepher’s POV I could feel Tiffany’s heavy tits pressed against me while we rode on my bike. She was always pretty, and I had a crush on her as a little kid, but damn, she turned into another level of hot. Pictures online didn’t do her justice. The white dress she was wearing was extremely revealing, showing her pink nipples, and ending at the top of her thighs. She looked like a wet dream. I hadn’t thought about her in awhile, just when an article would come out about her, but now that she was in front of me and suggesting that we should fuck, well, I would be an idiot to turn her down.

She gasps playfully, placing a hand on her chest. “Maybe.” I raise a brow, biting back a laugh. She adjusts her glasses, pushing them further up the bridge of her nose. “Let’s have a seat,” she says quickly, sitting in front of her computer and pulling out the chair next to her for me. The pictures look so good, you could almost mistake us for a real couple. The weird poses i thought look awkward don’t seem so weird now on the screen. They look… perfect, even. “So, this, this, and this have to go, right?” She points at the pictures we decided to remove from the album.

They stood together in silence, the only sound the soft hum of the elevator. The average figure's gaze locked onto the suitcase carried by the tall figure, his hand reaching out to claim it. But his attention was split. In that moment of distraction, his elbow jabbed back, connecting with the cup. The man's reflexes were quick but not quick enough. The coffee spilt, a dark arc splashing across Elena's gown mere inches from her breast.

You're not even worthy of mentioning her name. "Even when you turned me against her, I never once thought of breaking my mate bond with her. Do you think you can take her place with that pretentious face of yours?" He pulled out a silver dagger and slashed it across her face. The silver poison stopped her healing, leaving her face marred with deep, ugly scars. "You don't deserve this face. You like scars, don't you? Let me help you." Laila screamed, clutching her face in agony.

His voice seemed to be lost, his eyes were unmoving. Was he going to have a heart attack because of her? She stepped back in guilt…..blaming herself for her reckless decision. Maybe, she shouldn't have come. How didn't she think properly what the effect of her appearance would do to them? “Dearie, you have been too long, what's keeping you? Still burning her last pictures?” she heard her stepmother call out. Last pictures??? Her own pictures?? They were holding a death celebration for her?? That was when she noticed them, some of her clothes she had worn as a kid in her father's hands.

PROJECT DELPHINIUM – SUBJECTS. One by one, the photos stared back at me. Men, women, children. Some scarred, some hollow-eyed. Test logs, failures, disappearances. My stomach knotted tighter with every page. And then— I froze. There, clipped to the inside of a folder, was a photo of a girl. Pale, dark-haired, her features too sharp, too familiar. It looked almost as if I was staring at my own face in the darned mirror. My own face.