Count Olaf Hair Novels & Stories

Ow! “H-Hey! Let go of my hair,” I exclaimed, hurt was heard from my voice. But she didn’t listen. “How dare you drop the plate!” I can feel my scalp, ready to get rid of my hair. I heard a few gasps and roaring from all the wolf. It hurts! “L-Let go of me!” “Olivia!” and from that single word, single shout, this Olivia wolf loosen up her grasp from my hair. I can feel my eyes dropping some tears. I can’t help but to feel relief from the burning sensation from my scalp.

"Well he's kind of hilarious and umm yeah, I think he's a really good friend." I raise an eyebrow. "Just a friend huh? Have you two like hung out?" The outside breeze blows my hair into my face making me wish I had a hair tie to put it up. Usually, I always have one on my wrist but I took it off because the tight elastic was kind of cutting off my circulation. So now I have to suffer from tangly hair that will later take forever to brush out. Olivia cheeks if even possible darken a shade. "Can we stop talking about me? I am pretty sure this conversation started about you." She's not having the same hair problem, hers is done into a Dutch braid which looks really good on her.

Orlan replied. I nodded my head, and it took me a lot before I was able to summon up the courage to touch his hair. Immediately I place my hands on Orlan's hair, he instantly closes his eyes. "Woah! Your hair is super soft." I complimented, before removing the bun which Orlan uses in holding his hair into a ponytail. "Woah! Your hair is super long dude." I said, admiring the length of the hair. "I have been training for it for a long time," Orlan said.

Olaf was the quietest companion. With the suppliers on our backs we didn’t shift form, weaving our way through the damp muddy tracks that made up Luna Madeline’s Foxton pack. I was grateful for his guidance. Changed into black leggings and a tunic dress with sturdy boots I had to top over muddy bogs, clamber over fallen trees and practically job to keep up with him. The one big difference was seeing his eyes. For the first time his hair was pulled back from his face. Tied up in a knot, secured by a long silver pin I imagined he kept as a weapon. His golden eyes scanned constantly. If a seed pod fluttered to the ground, he paused.

Rosa used both hands to control Olwen, not letting Olwen escape. While Rosa held Olwen tightly, Xavla approached slowly, menacingly eager. "What do you think if I cut off this beautiful hair? Oh! I can't imagine how ugly you will look. Then people will laugh at you, the groom will hate you. fuck you on the wedding day." Says Xavla, roughly grabbing a strand of Olwen's hair. Xavla tugged so hard that Olwen felt pain. Xavla pressed the scissors close to Olwen's hair.

I smirked. She simply stick her tongue out and changed her clothes in the bathroom, she came out wearing a light lacy denim short paired with a white off shoulder top and I braided a portion of my hair, I used to call it 'cantata hairdo' because when we had a school program, the cantata, all of us did our hair like this. "Let's go see him!" Olivia was excited as she was walking towards the exit, I held her hand, "Why not just... let it go, don't meet him."

Her sides expanded and contracted with heavy, rhythmic breaths, the faint smell of sweat rising from her coat. I let my eyes close softly, inhaling deeply. Forcing a grimace down, my eyes snapped open at the sound of the heavy thrum of hooves. Soon, Tiffany came sprinting towards the side of Olarya, her brown coat now darker, as she halted beside us. The brown horse was a good six inches shorter than Olarya. Lifting my gaze from the horse, I let them settle on Stella’s rather ill-composed form. Strands of her red hair had strayed out of the bun she’d put the bundle in, the top of her cotton shirt she wore rumpled.

She felt Stark naked under those dark eyes. She couldn't give him the satisfaction of believing she was afraid of him. Furthermore, she smiled cutely, accentuating the faint dimples spotted on her cheeks. Olivia was eighteen, yet her good looks and figure could put her fellow girls into shame. Hair wavy and brown, eyes large and white like that of a puppy, porcelain skin smooth as jade, busty and tiny waist swaying down to a curvy and plump hips. All these were followed with smooth long legs.

I ask her with a sassy smile. "You? I hardly trust you with a toaster," she groans making me chuckle. "Thank you for the input Luna, the spell is ready, who's hair do you want to use?" Oliver says. "Mine," I say right away, I want to know what I am. "Maybe it's better if we use Luna's hair, we know she's a wolf," Olive says, making Luna growl, she doesn't want to be tested. "Don't upset her, we can try mine, I'm the one who wanted to do this spell," I say quickly pulling one of my hair and dropping it in the mix.

Bucho stepped up and we glared at each other. “Stop it. Both of you.” I tore my eyes from Bucho and looked at Olivia, dressed in one of her simple black A-line dresses. Her wet hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, but it only came down to the middle of her back now. “You cut your hair.” A blush crossed her face and I smiled involuntarily, loving the sight. She nodded and flipped it a little. “Is it okay? It was too long and getting in the way….”