Marco Reus Haircut Novels & Stories

I can only imagine how good it will feel to have Cole's lips around my dick again. I finish washing myself off and I get out, drying myself off. I dry my hair as I walk into the bedroom naked. I need a haircut, my hair's getting too long on top. I'll call thomas tomorrow and ask if he can do it for me. "Are you decent?" I hear Marcus ask from behind the door. "One second!" I call as I quickly pull a pair of sweatpants over my still semi hard dick and a shirt over my body. "You can come in."

"Oh, don't be shy. Is this natural? This color?" "Yes." "And you just... let it grow? No product? No treatment?" "No." "Criminal." He shook his head. "Absolutely criminal. Do you know what I would give for hair like this? The texture, the wave, the color — it's like autumn leaves and copper pennies had a baby." Elowen snorted. "He's not wrong." "Let me shampoo it." Marcus clasped his hands together. "Please. On the house. Just let me touch it."

“Remember this isn't a typical place for girls, you wouldn't continue to use caps to cover your long hair forever.” I nodded right away, even though tears were streaming from my eyes. I tried hard to control them, I couldn't watch my hair if five years went by like that. I thought I'd be able to keep it while training in the academy, unfortunately it wasn't so. Within a few seconds, all my hair had fallen to the ground and Enzo was trimming it to suit the typical guy's style. Marco stepped up, snatching the scissors from his hand. “Pack the hairs on the ground.” His words were targeted towards his brother but since the hair was much, Luca bent to help them. Alessio was standing by the corner

He wins by turning my blue highlights blonde. For now. Then comes the cut. He talks about layers and framing, none of which I understand, but when he finally spins the chair around, I barely recognize myself. The shaggy, wild wolf hair is gone, replaced by a sophisticated, soft bob that brushes my collarbone and moves when I shake my head. "There," Marco says, beaming at his reflection in the mirror rather than mine. "Now, you look like a woman who is on her way up. Do you like it?”

"They would have if I hadn't said the whole toys coming alive thing first." "Marcus, you are a mess." "But I'm a cute mess." "That you are." I look over at him and see him zoning out. I bump his shoulder with mine. "What's up with the jet black?" "The hair?" He runs his hands over his soft Mohawk. "Yep. I don't think I've ever seen you have a normal color hair before." "Yeah, well, I needed something different. Something a little less flashy." "Are you sure it doesn't have anything to do with the super hot hairdresser you have to go see whenever you change it?"

A sleek space with stylists who looked like they belonged in fashion magazines. "I'm thinking we cut about four inches," the stylist, Marco, said, running his fingers through my hair. "Add some layers for movement. Maybe some subtle highlights to brighten your face." "Four inches?" I clutched the arms of the chair. "Trust him," Victoria said from the chair beside me, where someone was doing her nails. "Marco is a genius." I closed my eyes and surrendered. What did it matter? My life was already unrecognizable. What was a haircut in comparison?

"I can work with that. You trust me?" "Yeah." "Good answer." Marco grabbed his scissors and comb. "Just relax." --- For the next forty-five minutes, Maxwell sat still while Marco worked. He didn't talk much. Just the occasional ‘can you turn your head’ or ‘look down for me.’ Maxwell watched in the mirror as his hair transformed. Marco cut with precision, fading the sides short and leaving more length on top. He used clippers, then scissors, then a razor to clean up the edges. When he was done, he stepped back and tilted his head, studying his work.

she said sincerely, her appreciation evident in her eyes. Ruan, with his signature sass, responded, "I know," with a playful flip of his imaginary hair off his shoulders, a gesture that suited his stylish boy cut haircut, accentuating his facial features and adding a certain allure to his appearance. "About your current job, are you planning to go in tomorrow?" he inquired.

Besides, she knew Alaric would never agree to cut his hair, not that she wants him to, anyway. When the stylist was done, Mariah couldn’t believe her eyes. Alaric’s snow-white hair was now in a neat ponytail and as he stood up, coupled with his dressing, he definitely looked like a celebrity. Even the stylist couldn’t help by whistling and slowly saying, “damn.”

I think they just want to be first at the food. “OK, WHICH OF YOU ASSHOLES PUT HAIR DYE IN Y SHAMPOO BOTTLE?” I hear Marcus scream. He had just walked into the packhouse. I am the first to see him as he walks into view. I had to turn around to hide my laughter quickly. His normally dark blonde hair is now very bright orange. It looks like someone cut a large orange in half and stuck it on his head. “Damn man, that is orange,” Josh says.