Badass Outfits Novels & Stories

Another sign that things are getting better, I smiled and stretched. I walked to the inner closet and saw three different outfits on the worktop, a simple black camisole, with simple black panties, probably indicating that if I put them on then I'd just be resting. The second outfit was a black leather bodice, with gold details and greenish threads, a pair of clingy leather panties, as well as black boots that reached just above my knees. Indicating that if I wanted to dominate, then I should wear this outfit.

And now. Everybody you have all been waiting for. A sneak Peek of Ashely and Jayson's. Their hate and love story. Drum roll pleases... Here is The Badass & The Beta. Epilogue: (A month after Emilia Lake Party) Ashely P.O.V. "In this corner, standing here. We have Sunshine," he drags outshine. Weights one hundred and twenty pounds and standing here at five-five." The announcer says over the microphone.

It continued that night after they were done with their chores. She went to his room to call him out. He went into the bathroom and changed into new clothes. Tristan strutted into the room with a sense of confidence, wearing a bright green shirt that was several sizes too small, exposing his bulging biceps. He paired the shirt with a pair of ripped, bell-bottom jeans that were at least two decades out of fashion. To complete the look, he had adorned himself with a thick leather belt that had an enormous silver buckle that read "BAD BOY."

Ava stepped out of her sleek, black car, her designer heels clicking on the pavement. The waiting news crew swooped in, cameras flashing as they snapped photos of her. The crowd surged forward, eager to get close, but her bodyguard swiftly intervened, forming a protective barrier around her. Ava's outfit was a stunning, red pantsuit, perfectly tailored to accentuate her curves. Her hips swiveled with each step, exuding confidence and poise. She glided across the parking lot, her sunglasses glinting in the sunlight.

My dad deserved a day of absolute, unblemished joy, and I was going to give it to him even if it killed me. Taking a massive, shaky breath, I threw off the duvet, forced my trembling legs to stand up, and dragged myself toward the bathroom to strip off my pajamas. Forget the fancy, frilly princess dresses of Disney lore. Forget looking like some delicate, fragile little victim in a pastel skirt. I was way too mature for that bullshit now. I yanked open my closet, bypassed every single dress and blouse, and grabbed my absolute favorite outfit: a loose-fitting, sleeveless Burna Boy graphic t-shirt paired with heavy-duty black athletic joggers and combat boots.

“You didn’t ask him to show you what it looks like? Girl, what if it’s crotchless? What if he ordered you some BDSM cosplay nonsense with bows in inappropriate places?” I winced. “He wouldn’t.” “Beth.” Her tone was dead serious now. “A man who preemptively orders your loser uniform clearly thinks ten steps ahead. You need to order a back up before you get ambushed into wearing something that ends up on an adult film website.” “You are not helping.” “I am helping.” She pulled out her phone. “In fact, I’m about to order a backup maid outfit for you right now. Something with a reasonable amount of fabric.”

A mannequin in the display wears an all black outfit. Completely fitted pants, matching top, and gloves. Sleek. Clean. Power disguised as fashion. The same kind of power that Sienna's words had taken from him the day before. He walks in, tries on the outfit. It fits like a second skin. He looks in the mirror and doesn’t see himself. He sees control. He smirks. He walks out of the shop with the outfit still on, leaving his old clothes behind in a crumpled pile. The girl at the counter doesn’t stop him. He tossed enough cash on the desk to shut down questions.

Her hair was tied up in a high ponytail, with a few stray curls framing her face, and she wore a dainty silver necklace with a small heart charm that bounced with every step. Lena’s style was effortlessly bold yet minimalist. She wore a fitted black jumpsuit with cut-out shoulders, paired with sleek combat boots that made her appear both stylish and intimidating. Her low-cut hairstyle only added to her fierce, confident look, and her hazel eyes sparkled with a mischievous gleam. She was understated, powerful—a perfect balance to Cassidy’s brightness.

That was why Jackson said my badass warrior armor. I stood in front of the mirror and critiqued my look. The top was a black leather corset vest that looked like it was made from armor. It paired perfectly with a pair of fitted crimson pants. My hair fell over one shoulder in a loose French braid. The makeup was the best part. It was dramatic with black eyeliner, smokey eye, and maroon lipstick. All of it tied together to make a statement. That statement was that I was done being pushed around.

I grumbled as Maddox pulled me into the closet. “I like these pants on you.” Maddox grabbed a pair of skinny jeans with holes in them. They were stretchy, so it wasn’t a big deal. “I haven’t seen you wear this yet.” He pulled down a white body suit that had long sleeves and had deep square neckline. It would really show off come cleavage. “My boobs look good in this one. Do you really want me to wear that?” Maddox didn’t even turn around. “I can fight. Wear what you want.” He had pulled out jeans that hugged him nicely and a white athletic shirt. It was tight enough that I could count his abs.