Messy Bun Quotes

We've searched our database for all the quotes and captions related to Messy Bun. Here they are! All 19 of them:

You cast spells every day. Your makeup is glamor magic. Hiding and highlighting. The clothes you pick out to make your legs look longer, your waist smaller. The red you wear for confidence; the black when you’re sad, the blue for clarity. Your favorite bra. Your lucky socks. The way you take an hour on your hair. It’s a ritual. It’s never just about clothes, or makeup, or perfectly messy buns. It’s about magic.
Moïra Fowley-Doyle (Spellbook of the Lost and Found)
I snapped off a knobby twig from a shrub at my heel and pulled it back into a messy bun.
Penelope Fletcher (Demon Girl (Rae Wilder, #1))
With dark hair tied back in a messy bun, full lips, and a body to die for, she was sex on legs. Her skinny jeans clung to her long legs, making me wish they were wrapped around me.
Eden Finley (One Night with Hemsworth (One Night Series, #1))
After he left the planet with his brothers, he'd imagined he'd live out his life alone. That was until he met Annabelle. His memory lingered back to the day he stepped into her bakery. His brothers were still unpacking when he decided to take a walk into town. The first time he saw her, she was placing muffins into a customer's bag. Even with her messy hair bun and stained pink apron, she was pure perfection. His entire body warmed when he got a backside peek at her pink tank top and itty bitty jean shorts. Before he knew what was happening, he'd gone inside and sat down in the same booth he sat in now. And when she came to the table to take his order, she'd bit down on her bottom lip. He'd known then those lips would complicate his life, but he had no idea just how much.
Stacey O'Neale (Under His Skin (Alien Encounters, #1))
I pull her up so her face is aligned with mine, so she can see the truth in my eyes. “Because he’s a selfish, self-absorbed dick who doesn’t know what he has right in front of him. Because if he did, he would have no need for other women. He wouldn’t have to question whether or not he loved her, because it was physically impossible not to. And every second he suffered trying to fight against that fact would be an act of self-inflicted madness, because deep down, he always knew he was in love with her. Right from the start. From the top of her messy bun to the toe of her knee high socks. She was his muse, his soul mate. She was the beauty in his world of heartbreak.
S.L. Jennings (Ink & Lies)
Honest to God, I hadn’t meant to start a bar fight. “So. You’re the famous Jordan Amador.” The demon sitting in front of me looked like someone filled a pig bladder with rotten cottage cheese. He overflowed the bar stool with his gelatinous stomach, just barely contained by a white dress shirt and an oversized leather jacket. Acid-washed jeans clung to his stumpy legs and his boots were at least twice the size of mine. His beady black eyes started at my ankles and dragged upward, past my dark jeans, across my black turtleneck sweater, and over the grey duster around me that was two sizes too big. He finally met my gaze and snorted before continuing. “I was expecting something different. Certainly not a black girl. What’s with the name, girlie?” I shrugged. “My mother was a religious woman.” “Clearly,” the demon said, tucking a fat cigar in one corner of his mouth. He stood up and walked over to the pool table beside him where he and five of his lackeys had gathered. Each of them was over six feet tall and were all muscle where he was all fat. “I could start to examine the literary significance of your name, or I could ask what the hell you’re doing in my bar,” he said after knocking one of the balls into the left corner pocket. “Just here to ask a question, that’s all. I don’t want trouble.” Again, he snorted, but this time smoke shot from his nostrils, which made him look like an albino dragon. “My ass you don’t. This place is for fallen angels only, sweetheart. And we know your reputation.” I held up my hands in supplication. “Honest Abe. Just one question and I’m out of your hair forever.” My gaze lifted to the bald spot at the top of his head surrounded by peroxide blonde locks. “What’s left of it, anyway.” He glared at me. I smiled, batting my eyelashes. He tapped his fingers against the pool cue and then shrugged one shoulder. “Fine. What’s your question?” “Know anybody by the name of Matthias Gruber?” He didn’t even blink. “No.” “Ah. I see. Sorry to have wasted your time.” I turned around, walking back through the bar. I kept a quick, confident stride as I went, ignoring the whispers of the fallen angels in my wake. A couple called out to me, asking if I’d let them have a taste, but I didn’t spare them a glance. Instead, I headed to the ladies’ room. Thankfully, it was empty, so I whipped out my phone and dialed the first number in my Recent Call list. “Hey. He’s here. Yeah, I’m sure it’s him. They’re lousy liars when they’re drunk. Uh-huh. Okay, see you in five.” I hung up and let out a slow breath. Only a couple things left to do. I gathered my shoulder-length black hair into a high ponytail. I looped the loose curls around into a messy bun and made sure they wouldn’t tumble free if I shook my head too hard. I took the leather gloves in the pocket of my duster out and pulled them on. Then, I walked out of the bathroom and back to the front entrance. The coat-check girl gave me a second unfriendly look as I returned with my ticket stub to retrieve my things—three vials of holy water, a black rosary with the beads made of onyx and the cross made of wood, a Smith & Wesson .9mm Glock complete with a full magazine of blessed bullets and a silencer, and a worn out page of the Bible. I held out my hands for the items and she dropped them on the counter with an unapologetic, “Oops.” “Thanks,” I said with a roll of my eyes. I put the Glock back in the hip holster at my side and tucked the rest of the items in the pockets of my duster. The brunette demon crossed her arms under her hilariously oversized fake breasts and sent me a vicious sneer. “The door is that way, Seer. Don’t let it hit you on the way out.” I smiled back. “God bless you.” She let out an ugly hiss between her pearly white teeth. I blew her a kiss and walked out the door. The parking lot was packed outside now that it was half-past midnight. Demons thrived in darkness, so I wasn’t surprised. In fact, I’d been counting on it.
Kyoko M. (The Holy Dark (The Black Parade, #3))
She always sits by herself, and she's always reading, totally immersed. She's small and has mousy brown hair that's always pulled back in a messy bun. She wears glasses that are perched on the end of her nose, the same way old people wear reading glasses, but hers aren't reading glasses. They're big and round.
Kim Holden (Bright Side (Bright Side, #1))
She moved to the dresser and piled her hair into a messy bun on top of her head. “Shut up. You’re life isn’t insane.
Jennifer Snyder (Kiss of Awakening (Succubus Kiss, #0.5))
Her hair is up in a messy bun that some girls can pull off. She is not one of those girls.
Mindy McGinnis (This Darkness Mine)
The doorbell rings again, and I thank God for small miracles. "Hold again," I say as I hold against my shoulder. I walk over, smiling because I know that Nicole must be going out of her mind. "Did you for--" "Hello, Officer Covey." Eli grins as he leans against the doorframe. "I was hoping you were home. We didn't get a chance to finish our conversation." Not even thinking, I close the door and stand there. Holy shit. What the hell? "Heather?" Nicole's voice is a buzzing in my ear. Or is that my suddenly frantic pulse? "Hmm?" I can't speak. Eli Walsh is at my freaking house. "Is that whole I think it is?" I rise onto my tiptoes and peek out the peephole. Sure enough, he's right there, smiling as if he has not a care in the world. "Yup." "Are you fucking kidding?" Nicole screams. "Holy shit, Nic. What the hell do I do?" My heart continues to race, and I'm completely freaking out. Nicole chuckles and then proceeds to yell again. "Open the goddamn door!" I look in the mirror and groan. I have on shorts and an oversized sweatshirt, which now has a beautiful pizza stain on the front. My hair is in a messy bun, I'm not wearing any makeup, and I have my glasses on instead of my contacts. I can't believe this. Eli knocks again. "Heather, I can hear you on the other side." My hand presses against the wood and I close my eyes, "What do you want, Eli?" "Heather! Open the fucking door right now!" Nicole's voice raises in my ear. "Shut up!" I yell at my jackass best friend. "I didn't say anything," Eli answers.
Corinne Michaels (We Own Tonight (Second Time Around, #1))
The one who answered his questions certainly had pointed ears, though the same observer might be hard pressed to make out any ears- or actual answers at all. The boy spoke to what appeared to be little more than a golden light that bobbled and sparkled and tinkled like bells. In fact, the whole scene resembled a mesmerist quizzing a pendulum held from a long golden chain, glittering in the sunlight, whose vague swings returned meanings known only to the occultist himself. But upon looking more closely, one would see that inside the golden bauble was a tiny woman with very pointed ears, a serious face, a green dress, and sparkling wings. Her body was like a series of energetic globes, from her golden hair in its messy bun to her hips to the round silver bells that decorated her shoes. Throughout the conversation every part of her was as animated as her friend's face.
Liz Braswell (Straight On Till Morning (A Twisted Tale: Peter Pan))
Sofia knocked. Anne Edwards, white hair pulled into a messy bun, flour up to her elbows, answered the door. “Oh, no!” she cried. “Not just brilliant but good bones as well. I do hope you have a terrible personality, dear,” Anne Edwards declared. “Otherwise, I shall lose faith in a just God.
Mary Doria Russell (The Sparrow (The Sparrow, #1))
In the sketch, I was sitting on the garden wall, my face in profile as I stared into the distance. My eyes were unfocused. A cigarette burned, forgotten, between my fingers. Raf drew me as I was, with round curves, folds in my stomach, and chubby thighs—but through his eyes I was beautiful. Because those features were just small parts of the picture. My face, which undoubtedly was blotchy from crying that night, was clear and angled. Even my messy bun was more of a purposeful updo, with soft tendrils that framed my face. The shirt that I'd been wearing that I'd worried was too tight instead hugged my curves purposefully and exposed a little cleavage. Or at least, that's how Raf had drawn it.
Lizzy Mason (The Art of Losing)
Harper, you decent?” My breath whooshed out of my body and I gripped the vanity counter. That voice. God, that voice was like home to me. “Yeah, I’m in the bathroom.” He rounded the corner and handed me a mango protein smoothie, “If you already ate, you don’t have to drink that.” I did, but I was already hungry again and greedily sucked down some of the delicious icy mix. “Thank you.” I said with a moan. Brandon laughed and rubbed my stomach, “What’s up buddy?” “He’s feisty this morning.” I took another sip and started braiding my hair over the top of my head and down to the side, putting the long length back in a messy bun before grabbing my cup again. “How are you?” My eyes met his in the mirror and he didn’t answer at first. “I’m good.” His husky voice was soft. He offered his hand and helped me stand up, wrapping an arm around me, “How are you Harper?” “I–I’m fine.” I glanced at his chest rapidly rising and falling, then his mouth and finally back to his eyes, “Thanks for coming today.” “I’ll always be here.” His fingers brushed along my bare neck and he leaned down slowly. “Brandon, don’t.” I pleaded. He stopped abruptly and removed his arms as he took a few steps away, “I’ll uh, be downstairs.” “Brandon.” “Yeah?” His back was still turned to me. “I can’t be with you.” I want to so bad, you’ll never have any idea how bad, “We can’t keep doing this to each other.” “I know, I just … I know.” He sighed and walked out of my room. “I love you so much.” I whispered once the door was shut. After
Molly McAdams (Taking Chances (Taking Chances, #1))
So that makes me an uncaffeinated, makeup-less, messy-bunned, legging-wearing couch surfer who hasn’t showered in the two days I’ve spent holed up in my apartment.
Meghan March (Dirty Girl (Dirty Girl Duet, #1))
Her messy bun was too full and evenly greying to be her real hair; the way it splayed out behind her beak-nosed face made her look like a Polish chicken.
Madison Key (Jenna (The Helmsworth Project Book 3))
messy bun
Mia Sheridan (Kyland)
The tension inside the car grew the longer we drove. I wanted him so badly I could barely think or see. For someone who’d gone almost her entire life without sex, the last two weeks shouldn’t have been a problem, but oh, they were. I ached for him. Just holding his hand made my skin tingle with anticipation. When we finally got off the interstate, Romeo turned abruptly onto some empty back road with trees on each side. “Where are you going?” I asked as he pulled over onto the side of the road and let the car idle. “I can’t take it anymore, Rim.” He reached for me, practically lifting me out of the seat and pulling me across the center toward him. I was all too willing as I climbed into his lap to straddle him. He reached up into the messy bun on my head and pulled out the hair tie. The heavy mess that was my hair tumbled down over my shoulders and back as he carefully removed my glasses before burying his hands in and pulling me close. The kiss was all-consuming. It wasn’t like at the airport where he kept his desire in check. Instead, it surged out around me, and I rocked into his already rigid length and moaned low in my throat.
Cambria Hebert (#Hater (Hashtag, #2))
If you can't handle me with a messy bun, then you don't deserve me with a fabulous blowout.
J.K. Wood (Before Dawn (The Lucy Chronicles Vol 1))