Baddie Hairstyles Straight Novels & Stories

She walked out of her office only to meet the rider outside. "Yes," she scrunched her face, not remembering if she ordered anything. He nodded and took out a nice pink and white branded bag that said Baddie's Hair. She thanked him, looking through the bag. She didn't see a note or anything. "Look who does not have a man. Hairs from this brand are mad quality and expensive," Amanda said, trying to look at it. Christiana smiled, seeing the blonde wig. She remembered telling James she was going to buy one soon, but she didn't think he listened since he was kind of sleepy that night.

Is that why Sean was captivated by her—because she reminded him of Bianca? The stylist smiled and pressed his cheek against hers while looking at the mirror, asking, "What do you want us to do with your hair, Miss Beautiful?" She didn't have to think for a long time because she was aware of it right away. She no longer wants boring, straight hair. She asked, with a smile on her face, "Can you give my hair life?" Before touching her hair, the hairdresser inspected it. "If you want a different look, try balayage. We're just going to give your hair volume, so it'll be a little bit wavy down. Do you like that?"

"Oh! My nigga." That was Bad voice coming from the inside. He opened the gate and embraced me warmly. Bad was quite a chubby guy; about 5.6 feet tall, dark in complexion and he was always on a total shaved head, chin, cheeks, and upper lip. "How are you doing bruh?" "I am good fam. Um! Can you please Let off me? I am not some kinda bitch." "You my bitch motherfucker." "Fuck you, Bad get off me."

Her silver-streaked hair was twisted into a flawless bun. “Is this your girlfriend you spoke about?” she asked Rob like I was invisible. “Yes,” he answered without hesitation. What the fuck? He told her we were a couple? “She is very gorgeous. I’m Liana,” she finally turned to address me. “Bianca,” I said as politely as I could, still stewing from my dream. “She does not want to cut her hair. Is there something else we can do?” Rob asked. “Her hair is beautiful. I would not cut it. Three A texture. Long, curly, and healthy. We could silk press it or give her bigger curls, something vintage like the nineties,” Liana said, visibly excited.

He settled on a black suit with a white shirt and a black tie, completing the look with a pair of shiny black shoes. He meticulously styled his hair in a way that exuded an air of intimidating confidence. Each strand was carefully placed to create a look that was both edgy and bold, with just the right amount of rebelliousness. he ran his hand through his hair and felt a sense of power coursing through his veins. The style he had chosen was a statement, one that said he was not to be underestimated.

I looked at my outfits, trying to think what mood I felt in. Cute, sexy, bad-ass, basic, comfy? I decided for black jeans, black biker boots and a tight burgundy red spaghetti strap top. I did feel bad-ass although my boobs were definitely a bit on show. I did my hair and make up, letting my long brown hair fall down my back in soft waves and putting on light make up. I let Kenna know I was ready early and she sent me three shocked faced emojis and said she was on her way.

My mom said and I sighed as I climbed down the last step, my eyes focused on each step so I wouldn't fall. " God, I hate heels," I said and heard a familiar chuckle. I looked up and found Nate standing there looking sexy as hell in a white tuxedo! He always said he hated white because it made him look like chalk and his platinum blond hair didn't help matters. I had agreed with him when he said white doesn't suit him but today, I totally disagree. His hair was slicked back as usual but with a very fresh undercut, this time that looked like it was created for him.

Zayn suddenly felt a chill running down his spine when he locked his gaze with those dark eyes. That look was so terrifying! When Zayn looked over again, Ambrose's head was lowered to drink milk. Illusion! It must be! Zayn eagerly shook his recently dyed hair. Larissa saw his silver hair and let out an indescribable expression. Zayn, noticing Larissa staring at him, subconsciously flicked his hair. "How's my new hairstyle?" Larissa uttered honestly, "Very ugly." The air was filled with a moment of profound silence.

She replied the teen. "Yeah, but I don't have curls, my own hair is straight and won't curl no matter how hard I try." The girl complained. Well, she and Mila were almost the same height. Mila leaned down slightly, "Some things, you can not change. You just have to accept it as it is because that is what makes you beautiful. I stopped trying to get my hair straight when I discovered that, me, in straight hair, is a completely different person. Your straight hair is what makes you beautiful, ok?" Mila went in full time big sis mode.

In her place stood someone both new and familiar—hair loose around her shoulders, face barely made up, eyes bright with nervous anticipation. She’d spent hours deciding what to wear, finally settling on what felt most authentically her—ripped jeans, a simple black tank top, and the leather jacket she’d found in a vintage store last week. Not the same as the one Duke had given her all those years ago, but similar enough to feel like a statement. Sandy’s Yamaha waited outside, her borrowed helmet hanging from the handlebars. Taking it had been a last-minute decision, a symbolic choice. She’d arrive under her own power, on her own terms.