Bleached Buzz Cut Grown Out Novels & Stories

"So... what are you doing now?" "Getting ready for school," I said as I switched the call to video. I placed my phone against the washbasin and started brushing my teeth. A second later, Kai's face filled the screen. His messy brown curls fell over his bright blue eyes, and the freckles across his nose and cheeks stood out even more in the morning light. He looked cute. "So," I said, running a hand through my hair. "It's been like two years since I had my hair this long and not dyed white. Do you think I should buzz it again?"

Kai kneels in front of her and turns on the trimmer first. “I’ll take off the length, then I’ll go back over it with the razor.” She nods, he moves slowly, deliberately. He grabs the shower head and runs water over her to wash off the cut hair. She grips the edge of the bench tightly, trying not to get too turned on by this. But it didn’t matter if she did, they were home and he isn’t going to judge. He moves her folds around to get every angle of them, and before too long she’s now bald there.

I went to the nearest dollar store and bought my usual supplies; a shave kit, scissors, two gallons of bleach, rubber kitchen gloves, and cleaning sponges. I found the cheapest motel I could, checking in under an alias, and got to work. I began by cutting off all of my long hair, getting it into the regulation inch and a half; then cutting away my beard. I always liked keeping it long when I was with the gang, never having the option while I was an enforcer. I was sure to collect all of my hair, putting random handfuls into the toilet and then flushing it down. Once that was over, I began shaving my face, getting all of the stubble and leaving myself clean shaven.

He looked at his reflection as she pinned his hair and got out a shaver, changing the guard and plugging it, then hearing the horrifying buzzing sound. He scooped his phone out of his pocket, nervously typing out a text. She pulled out the shaver, i swear i'll end up bald. why are you texting me, i'm literally on the other side of the room. So what, you want me to yell out to you?? good point So what's the problem? can't you hear it? she's shaving my head!! That's the point of an undercut you dumbass baby i need mental support, please work with me here

He sat and she got back to work getting the splinter out of his skull. Then she went into the bathroom and used the box of color on her blond hair. She’d had her hair many colors in the past, all variations of blond. This had been the lightest she’d gone and to be honest, it had been nothing but a pain since she’d bleached it. She’d thought it would make her look better on camera, but it had only ended up washing out her skin tone. Plus, the upkeep was more than she wanted, not to mention how impossible it was to make it look shiny for the cameras. She had multiple bottles of oils she had to use just to keep her ends from breaking.

Britney swiveled the chair and removed the towel with a dramatic flair. "You're not allowed to look till I'm done," Britney declared. "I want to see!" Jenny exclaimed, trying to turn. Britney stopped her, holding the chair in place. She was stronger than she looked. "No peeking! This definitely calls for a dramatic reveal," Britney said as she stepped behind Jenny, returning with a pair of scissors. "Long hair can cause issues in the field," she explained while beginning to cut. "It gets caught on things, leaves evidence, or can be pulled on during a fight. Or worse, you end up late because you're too busy styling it."

Anson had told me that was the way he liked his women, and I obeyed without question, in an effort to please him. "I think the last time was like ten years ago," I finally admitted. "So James, can you fix it or not?" Pilar moved around, impatiently. James nodded his head as he made an imaginary cutting motion with his hands just under my shoulders. "Everything below this is dead. It's gotta go." I swallowed hard, accepting his words. Cutting off more than half of my hair felt terrifying. "And," James wasn't finished talking. "I think we should go honey blonde. It'll make your features pop out."

There was enough in my hair to keep it in check for a year, and it made me icky. My fingers itched to run the detachable showerhead over my scalp to rid it of the mess. Len was present, and he stared back when I looked in the mirror. He didn’t like this. Neither did I. But Beth wanted gentle and sweet. I could try to be that or at least look the part. Malik was on a buzzcut, and I had no intentions of growing my beard as long as his. Hank loved his hair gel. The few times I saw him, his hair was intact. So this was a compromise of some weird sort.

Alex Waking up later than usual, I scratch my long beard and look in the mirror. I’m not so bad, I say to myself. At 6’4”, I’m taller than most men and thanks to my hockey background I have a solid foundation of thick muscles. Those boys had no business calling me ‘Quarter Pounder’ last night, I work out nearly every day. My hair is starting to turn silver, but the salt and pepper isn't bothering me. I could use a haircut though. Going into the playoffs, the team agreed this year to refrain from cutting their hair or beards in a superstitious ritual. This was the first year I played along, letting my locks go wild. Considering our victory, I guess I’ll be growing it out next year, as

My rebirth. My hair was chopped to a sleek, shoulder-brushing cut dyed the color of ashes mixed with silver. Elizabeth styled it with a precision only years of high-end training could produce. The sharpness of the cut and the tint reshaped my entire face. She used contouring to lift my cheekbones, make my jaw slimmer, hide the softness pregnancy had left behind. Then, she bleached my brows and darkened them again into an unfamiliar arch that made my eyes icy, predatory, mysterious. “I don’t believe this,” I whispered, my voice cracking slightly.