Modern Ragnar Haircut Novels & Stories

He just hated wolves, all of them, equally, including himself. “Maybe she is enjoying having fun with our little brother and his new wife. You know Lennie. She can always find fun.” “How can you talk about our mate in that tone?!” Raven got really angry because of that comment, “Why on earth did the Moon Goddess pair me with such a pig head like you?! Why don’t you just go fuck yourself?! Fuck you!!Ragnar!!Fuck!!” It started getting really annoying. Ragnar even wanted to hack his head open to pull that stupid wolf out. He closed his eyes, trying really hard to block him. Suddenly, his cell phone rang, and it was his Beta, Ethan.

I kept my hand near my weapon, aware that we were outnumbered. We reached the far end of the room where a makeshift bar had been set up. Behind it, a man sat on what looked like a throne constructed from gold. He was older, maybe sixty, with long gray hair pulled back in a ponytail and a beard that reached his chest. Scars crisscrossed his face, including one that ran from his forehead to his jaw, bisecting his left eye, which was milky white. “Ragnar,” Fenris said, his voice carrying over the music.

’ I asked Ragnar. ‘Maybe you are so desperate to find a mate that just about any pretty woman will do.’ Ragnar laughs in my head. ‘Whatever mutt. I’m not that desperate. And wasn’t it you that said these women were lining up for me. I could just go through them quickly and see if I can choose.’ I say, having the last laugh. He just growls. Strangely, I feel like I won’t be able to forget that hair. I feel the vibrate of my phone. I slide my gloves off and into the trash and look to see who its from and there are four.

And today, I would be the one to step forward, even if it meant walking into the unknown. Before I could respond, Beatrice’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. “Is it just me, or does Ragnar look hot from this angle?” she said, her words laced with a mix of curiosity and teasing. I turned my gaze to Ragnar, taking in the way his muscles tensed under the soft light of the lair’s fire. His hair, usually a wild tangle, was now neatly combed, and his eyes, always sharp, held a quiet intensity that made me feel a flutter of something I couldn’t quite name.

I closed the door behind me with a grin, but the moment the click sounded, the grin faded, and the real fear crawled up my spine. Heat curled through the room, thick and warm, and when I turned toward it, I stopped breathing. Ragnar stepped out of the bathroom with steam rolling around him, his body bare, water sliding slowly down his skin. His hair was dark and wet, hanging in loose strands that brushed his forehead, and droplets clung to his lashes before falling to his cheeks. His lips were full, slightly parted as he exhaled, and the sharp line of his jaw glistened under the low light.

He groans heavily running his large hands over his face and through his thick jet black curls. "Look, I don't know what to do. But we gotta do something!" He sounds and looks just lost as I am. But so handsome in this water. I love his hair it's in the style of a faux hawk fade and I really want to run my fingers through it. He has the Puerto Rican flag shaved into the left side of his head and 'Boricua' shaved on the right. His barber has mad skills. I'm thinking about taking my brothers to him for their back to school haircuts.

He lowered his head to continue his work as he said, “If you still care a tad bit about my reputation, get your hair tidied up. At least.” My little face became hot. I instinctively grabbed the loose hair on my head with my hand, then quickly exited his office and went to the bathroom. As I had just woken up, not only was my hair frizzy—it was a tangled mess, like someone had used an eggbeater on it. Looking at myself in the mirror, I instantly marveled at Ragnar’s fortitude. He hadn’t kicked me out even after seeing me like this. I knew it—every bad guy has his redeeming quality, I thought to myself.

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?

"I'm Ragnar, son of the dwarves of Mistril Mountain." Dwarves? He didn't look like any dwarf I knew of. I guess I didn't have any true frame of reference for a dwarf in person, but he certainly didn't seem to fit the bill. I might have been closed minded though, because the only thing that seemed not so dwarf-like was his stature. His hair hung in a long brown and gray braid, and his beard was accented with silver charms and small braids. Ragnar had a collection of axes and daggers hung about his person, and was dressed in what looked like armor made of leather and steel.

It was a day like any other, as long as you take it seriously that he had a male harem at his disposal, among the four women of his dreams, who accepted that he was the man of their dreams, in a different way, of course. He was around a group of prim rich people, the famous prince of Lovecraft County. Ragnar had blue eyes, long white hair, muscular body, slanted eyes and a mix between Japanese and Nordic descent, beautiful eyes and a blue like ice, his body was defined, with a red silk suit, an Armani, with an expensive shoe, a set of more than two thousand dollars, with the lines of her body defined. - You've had your share of women since you were 14 years old, don't worry too much about it