Bjorn Ironside Hair Novels & Stories

“It hurts my head to even think of the price tag. Just BMW.” “Well, take the M2 Red,” he yelled at Aaron. Don’t change your hair color. It suits you and makes your eye color pop out.” “Right away,” said the dealer hurriedly. “I’ll ready the documents, Mr. Winston. I’ll personally forward it to your office.” “Thank you, Aaron.” I might have just blushed. “It’s my natural hair color, bunny.” “Really?” He looked surprised. “Yes. I don’t dye my hair often.”

My brain happened to process a lot within a short period. My eyes scanned his huge arm. I'm certain that it's 5 times my arm. Very close to his neck was his broad shoulder. Its firmness was admiring and it suited him. I was losing it as his beauty made me droll. My breathing changed, it was rapid and as a result, I tightened my grip on the tray table. How could I forget that hair? His jet-black hair came out differently for the first time. It was messy and damp and not organized like it often was. It was like a teenage basketball player's hair. Now, I do wonder why he doesn't wear it this way. It should be his regular look.

I didn't need to chip in the gory details so I left it at the surface. “You love him?” she asked softly. “I love him, Iris.” I answered quietly, biting my lips to hold back smile. “Then, I give you two my blessings.” She told me, and the sincerity in her eyes told me all I needed to know. “Thank you, Iris.” I grinned. “Oh, wow.” I muttered when I caught sight of mg reflection in the mirror. The stylist wasn't done but I could see the new look coming together. The strands of my hair shared a sync of two colours that were so warm against my skin. Golden brown and blonde. The blonde was ultimately dominant but I loved the flair the other colour gave it. It made my hair colour redefined and more

"This is not funny dad! I just got them done hours ago and now they are ruined and they costed me a whole six hundred and eighty." "Six hundred and eighty for longer nails, thousands on weaves or wigs or whatever you call them, yet you have your mother's luscious, rich, thick, long hair- I will never understand you girls." Dad shook his head again as I adjusted my wig on the mannequin head- yes, I inherited mom's long, slightly wavy, thick, light brown hair, but I am not leaving without these, I have to look my best in every moment for the rest of the week.

I ask Storm. His hair falls back into his face. With a frustrated groan, he says, “Yes, please.” He sits backward on the toilet while I grab his hairbrush. I brush and separate it, pleating it in a loose French braid from the top of his head down his neck to the top of his shoulders. When loose his hair sets just an inch below his shoulders.

This is an insolent. Long dark curls fall down his forehead. His hair is very full just like Indians, she thought he doesn't keep them but here they are, his hair will make every girl envious, including her. It's very dark and loose, now she wants nothing than to touch it and feel if it's soft or not. On instincts, her hands went straight to his hair. She watched as her finger smoothly went in and out of his hair with no effort. His hair is soft and loose, making it very beautiful as it starched itself around his head. His onyx hair is extricated and even silkier than hers.

“It’s already too helmet-y. We need texture. Something that doesn’t look like his mom still cuts it with a bowl.” “I do not use a bowl!” I protested, my voice muffled by the cape. They both ignored me. Chloe ran her fingers through my hair, which I’ll admit is one of my few decent features. Thick, soft, and black as ink. “He’s got great hair, Jax. Lots to work with. So, you’re thinking more of a textured crop? Keep the length on top, loose and messy?” “Yeah, messy. But like, expensive messy. Not ‘I just rolled out of bed and gave up on life’ messy, which is his current brand.”

I scoffed. "It's not that. I know you can protect your self it's just..." He cut himself off, and I arched my brow at him. "It's just what?" I quizzed. Balor shook his head at me. His long scarlet hair slid over his shoulder with the movement. I had never been into guys with long hair, but with him, something about it was just extremely sexy and when he pulled it up into a man bun. Oh my God. "Forget about it." He said, trying to get me to drop the subject, but it only intrigued me more.

I used it anyway. “You have wild, beautiful hair,” he said, taking the comb. I looked at him in the mirror as he stood behind me, brushing my hair. “It is usually very wild, but once combed, it becomes silky smooth. You should leave your hair more open. It’s your identity; you should be proud to open it and show it off; it makes you unique. Nobody can have your hair no matter how they want to; you were born with it, so show it off,” he said, brushing it gently. Nobody has ever told me to open my hair; they always encourage me to cover it because I like covering it, but he is encouraging me to open it. I looked at him, and he was handling it with care, admiration feeling in his eyes. After br

he faced us scratching his head. Well the head was not bald like Dwayne Johnson's own, his only shows any one that looks closely at him that he wasn't ready or doesn't want to grow old. His hair was cut in the popular Afro style, it was so obvious he dyed his hair black, but I could still see some stubborn grey hairs that refused to be black at the sides of his head, the man surely doesn't want to look old. But his beards gave out the secret. "Dad don't tell me you dyed your hair for the ninth time this month? " Kene asked his dad.