Steve Rogers Beard Novels & Stories

Just her bed, the monitor, and a small desk on the left of her bed. As her eyes began to close, her door clicked opened, and her eyes flashed open. And there he was. Dr. Rogers stood there with a tablet in his hands, typing on it, his lips pulled down in a frown. He was old, but not too old, looking about to be in his fifties, silver hair slicked back to hide the fact that he was balding. He had gray eyes, the color of storm clouds, and had facial hair that wrapped around his jaw. He looked up at her sternly, and she met his gaze steadily.

His mouth, always captivating, seemed to hold an extra edge over her that made Olivera’s heart flutter. She couldn’t help but notice the way his beard accentuated his strong jawline, adding a touch of ruggedness to his overall charm. Her gaze lingered on Raul’s neatly trimmed beard, appreciating the effort he had put into his appearance. It was like he had planned to come onto her tonight. It was like he was annoyed that the people here had ruined his surprise. She let herself believe that. The meticulous grooming not only highlighted his facial features but also showcased his attention to detail and self-care. She found herself drawn to the way his beard framed his face, enhancing his natur

The faint smell of rubber mats, metal, and sharp cologne. No one at the front desk. Just the low hum of the air conditioner. I’m still looking around when I hear boots—heavy, deliberate—coming from the hallway that leads to the offices. The next second, Steve appears. No gym shirt this time. Just black joggers slung low on his hips and nothing else. The tattoo sleeve on his left arm continues across his chest—one long thin line under his left pec, another across his lower ribs. He doesn’t smile. He just looks at me.

Roger was chatting with one of them, a middle-aged man with bright red hair and a closely trimmed beard. "Connie!" Roger waved me over, and I eased through the people, still holding Sarah's hand. "Connie, this is my friend Steve. Steve, my neighbor, Connie." "It's a pleasure Connie." His voice was soft and kind, and his hand warm as I shook it. "I know Joan and Roger have been wanting to get you here for a while, now." "Thanks, it's nice to be here. This is my partner, Sarah." I watched his reaction, which consisted only of a warm smile.

Chuckling, he rose up and sauntered to me, my heart racing at every step he took closer. I jumped to my feet from the swing, instinctively holding my breath. "What do you say we—'' we were interrupted by his phone ringing. Flashing a smile at me, he pulled his phone out and excused himself. A few seconds passed when I heard footsteps approaching me and smiled, wondering why Blade got back so quickly. "You—" my smile fell when Roger came into view. He was in black sweatpants, black leather jacket, and black shoes. From the depth of my soul, I felt rage, my hands clenching as the horrible sight stood before me. "Why the hell are you here, again?"

He put out his arms, and I thought he was going to meet Lucas; instead, he gave me a bear hug. The man held her and said, "Anya, you do not know how happy I am that you came with us." "Relax, Rodger, don't break the poor girl's back." Rodger took a step back and smiled at me. I waved my hand briefly. "Rodger is a long-time friend." "Lucas, I think you may have found someone with more beautiful eyes than you!" I took a quick look at Lucas and didn't understand why Roger thought I was with Lucas.

Yet, silver didn’t work on this new breed of rogues? “They only died after ripping their head off from their bodies. Thankfully, they don’t have the power to regenerate. If they did, then I probably wouldn’t be standing in front of you today.” Beck admitted, looking at the ground. Come to think of it, I just noticed that he wasn’t standing upright. He was leaning towards his right side. I squinted my eyes to see that he was tightly holding onto his right arm. He was injured! I wouldn’t even have noticed if he hadn’t said that last sentence. Woah.

He doesn't see that we're severely outnumbered. Slowly I move my hand over my pocket, where I can feel the handle of the dagger, I curve my fingers over it and ready myself. Nareena steps forwards, the males flank her sides. It's clear she's their newly appointed leader. That's the thing about rogues, they don't care if you're male or female, they just need someone as corrupt as them to lead them down the winding path of destruction. Out the corner of my eye, I see two wolves emerge from either side of me. They have me surrounded and I'm sorely outvoted. The wolves step closer, exposing their canines.

“He looks like he swallowed a lemon.” That made me laugh — just a little. “Better,” Luke said, smiling. “You look less tense when you smile.” Before I could even reply. A sharp voice rang out from one end of the field. “Everyone, gather up!” It was Beta Ross. He was very tall and broad. His voice was strong enough to make even all those wolves that liked being cocky go quiet. He had a scar on his face. And it went down his left cheek. Like proof that this man had seen more fights than any of us would ever see.

*Xaveir’s POV The first thing I notice about Noah Striker when the cops drag him to the other side of the booth is that he has grown a beard. His orange jumpsuit is fitted closely to his body, he has lost weight, and his hair has grown but it is the beard that I notice because the beard makes him look like he had been when he wore the disguise of Jake.