I Want To Be A Big Baddie Novels & Stories

“Nothing, he didn’t even talk to Stacy about it or even approached the girl again. Though the girl claimed that he apologized to her but no one believed her because Adrian didn’t bother to agree to it when he was asked by Stacy in front of everyone.” “I see, he is even worse than I thought,” I implied. “And also dreamy,” I heard her whisper in infatuation and I rolled my eyes, “and to add more to it, he is the school’s bad boy.” “And you like him because of that?” “Who doesn’t like a bad boy?” She asked me. “I don’t,” I answered, “I prefer putting them in their place.” “Like you did Kevin? You know he is going to get back at you for that.”

My flirting skills are subpar and I can only hope the consistent fluttering of my lashes while I look at him from underneath them, catches his attention enough for him to ask for my number later. Cassidy’s crash course on boys 101 taught me that boys like shy girls and I’m aiming for that look even when I am anything but that. I know I said no boys this summer but after last night with mum, I’m suddenly feeling a little rebellious. And what better way to rebel than with boys? Again, that’s another thing I pulled out of Cassidy’s lessons on boys which is ironic because we both have little to no experience in that department. At least, real life ones.

At her dubious mercy. What a psychopath. “Oh, just a little special cocktail I concocted, just for you, my dear! It’s a combination of your parents’ blood, and it’s going to make you extra special, and extra strong!”

I’ve been described with a lot of unpleasant and derogatory descriptions all my life because of just doing something I wanted to do. Horrible, nasty, filthy, awful, terrible, dick, weak, scumbag, dirtbag, stinkpot, and douche bag and almost every negative adjective Merriam-Webster could think of. People got to say what they got to say and for me, it’s not that bad when you feel that you’re the good guy and the rest is just being a villain charged with the hunger to destroy you. I think that way. I’m a fucking legend.

“What do I do?” She sighed. “There’s nothing you can do. You can’t change a man. So you can’t let that man change you. Bad boys are just that. Bad. Bad for you. Bad for themselves. Bad for anyone who comes into their lives.” I nodded slowly. “People at school will know soon enough.”

He will see what it’s like to keep a lioness in a cage. A mobster… damn. The boss of mobsters. It’s like it’s engraved on my forehead: certified trouble magnet. It’s official, I am the queen of bad luck. But you know what? It’s not the end of the world. I will get out of this. I always do. And I will get out of here too. I am a Warrior. A fighter. A winner. A damn survivor. And I already have a plan. Plan A: seduce his right-hand man. Make him crazy about me, so he will free me. I’m beautiful, I’m smart, and I know how to handle it.

"I love giving a good first impression" "Oh" he returns his look to his laptop and I'm grateful he's not looking at me. Somehow Baddie makes me want to be so perfect, I mean he is perfect himself, perfect at handling this job, perfect body, would even pass for a model, practically almost every woman would swoon if they were in an office alone with him. I make a mental note to recommend him to Mr. Liendior should they lack any male model.

However, we have one tiny problem: I have no idea how to be a bad boy. I have Asperger's Syndrome, not Einstein's brain so I need help. And since God wouldn't give me a straight away answer, I asked the only one who would: Google. Google Results: The Bad Boy Is: The guy who effortlessly gets the girl you dream about having. The guy women fantasize about and will practically do anything for The guy who sweeps the woman you've always wanted off of her feet, makes her deepest sexual fantasies come true, breaks her heart, and then has her missing and calling him for the next 10 years.

“Tell me, little man, how exactly are you going to fight those evil people? What’s your big plan?” Greg’s face lit up like Christmas morning. Without warning, he climbed onto his chair and then boldly onto the edge of the table, standing tall with his little chest puffed out and fists planted on his hips. “Yeah! I am Mafia Greg and I am here!” he announced dramatically, striking a superhero pose that sent a ripple of laughter through the room. “I’m gonna use my super strength to punch the bad guys, and I’ll drive a fast car like Daddy’s, and I’ll have guns but only for protection, and I’ll never let anyone make Mommy cry again. Boom! Bad guys down!”

My mother smiled wide and begun to laugh, “I have been trying for years to get out from under Big Teddys thumb and that day has finally come. I got word from one of the girls he sleeps with that someone has put a hit on Big Teddys head, and it is no small price either. Almost five hundred million dollars to the person who brings him down. Whoever it is that wants him gone is a very powerful and influential person I have no doubt!” What my mother said to me also put me in a good mood, but not for the same reasons as her. It gave me an idea. I really wanted both Spencer and Big Teddy out of our lives, and I think it was time for us to bring them down. And unknown to him, Spencer was going to h