Ivan Drago Haircut Novels & Stories

Love Draco I feel my body warm at his tone of possession in the letter. I am glad to be his. I will start to wear the sticks at once. In the bathing room I stand in front of the mirror. I take one of the sticks and use it to part my hair down the middle. I begin to wrap my hair around one end of the stick and when I get close to the top I stick the other end into the hair that has pulled tight of my scalp. I take the other stick and make the next side match as closely as I can to the first.

he said. I didn't answered back. I entered in one room. Okay, let's get our skin treated. It's been a while I did derma. I usually do my own skin care routine at house. ~~ Raven POV "What haircut do you want, sir?" "An undercut, please," I see my reflection on the mirror. Eve is right, my hair is a bit long. She doesn't see me fresh. I should look fresh. It took an almost thirty minutes in doing my hair. I wonder what Everleigh is doing. What's in that room?

Said Edwin as he entered the salon. She shook her head slowly and smiled a little. Edwin, a grown man with the looks and demeanor that made women crazy, now looks like a kid in a candy factory. Edwin took Diandra to one of the officers wearing the salon's uniform. "I want my friend to have her hair styled to suit the current fashion... And the shape of her face, but don't cut it too much! I love the length and color of her hair! Keep it black or you can add some highlights to make it more colorful!" Edwin suggested while holding Diandra's black, long, straight hair without cutting. Diandra has not changed her hairstyle for years. She is busy taking care of the children.

His commanding posture and penetrating gaze were intimidating enough. Completely opposite, Drake was handsome and charming. He had a thin body, but well-groomed and defined. The hair wasn't cut regularly, so it was always long, but not very long. He seemed happy and always kind, he didn't carry any dark traits, he didn't pose any danger.

He might have a stutter but otherwise, his voice is masculine. “Shut up, worm! Or I will make you!” another male says. I turn around and look at the door right when two strong males drag inside the one I suspect is the slave—Vladimir. He had short dirty blond hair and a mouth made for kissing. He has no shirt on and his chest is full of cuts, welts and blood. The only thing he is wearing is a pair of old jeans.

One of them said and left. While the other one was trying to lock the car, a hand suddenly grabbed his jerry hair…so tight that he yelled out, “Who the fuvk are you??!” He screamed but the hand never left his head. “I warned you that day that if I ever meet you again, you’re so dead that day! Finally, I caught you!” Ivy screamed at him, no intention to leave his hair. The guy break free from her grip, he turned and his eyes were glazing with fire. His perfectly styled hair now looked like that of a psycho’s “Are you Crazy, young lady?!” The guy yelled.

I’m halfway to the door when a low, amused voice stops me cold. “Where do you think you’re going?” I freeze. My pulse races as I slowly turn around, dread curling in my gut. Ivan stands before me, his towering figure partially concealed in the dim light. He’s fresh from a shower, a towel wrapped low around his waist, clinging to his hips. His hair is wet, water droplets sliding down the sharp lines of his face, tracing along the ridges of his chiseled jaw. His muscular, tattooed chest is fully on display—each intricate line inked on his skin adding to the raw power he exudes.

His commanding posture and penetrating gaze were intimidating enough. Completely opposite, Drake was handsome and charming. He had a thin body, but well-groomed and defined. The hair wasn't cut regularly, so it was always long, but not very long. He seemed happy and always kind, he didn't carry any dark traits, he didn't pose any danger.

He doesn't say anything, just meets his eyes before they flicker above Jesse’s head to where Iandor is returning. "This is him." Jesse is definitely amazed at the sight of the lizard in Iandor’s hands, skin a bright, mint green with orange stripes over his belly. The artist in him feels inspired. "He is the coolest lizard I've ever seen," he tells Iandor honestly. Iandor grins at his answer, gently running a little finger over Drago's back. "He's a panther iguana. He's my best friend." His heart feels like it's about to burst. "I can tell. He looks like he loves you a lot a lot."

His dagger was shaped like a crescent and could act as a boomerang. Noah’s dagger was flipping at a high speed. Drake dodged it easily, but it managed to cut his long hair, making it look uneven in length. “Fuck.” Drake mumbled, he was pissed because he was fond of his masculine long hair and it would take a long time to grow it back. Drake now began to take Noah seriously.