Steve Rogers Beard Novels & Stories

A tall man appeared behind the door with a small smile curving his lips upwards. "Sorry for interrupting. But we thought it best if we checked on your progress, sir," the man said. He smiled brightly at me, but I could immediately tell by his cold blue eyes that there was no warmth behind the smile. "Who are you?" I demanded angrily as he approached, glancing quickly between the boy and the man with suspicious eyes. He tilted his head slightly, looking confused. "My name is Roger. I am one of the most respected members of the organization and one of the top agents working for the organization, if not the top agent. It's nice to meet you."

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?"

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.

“Have you seen…?” “Christopher, Christopher Swanson” Steve supplied when she looked at him with a blank expression on her face, realising he hadn't told them his mates name. He watched as the expression turned to one of surprise. “Swanson?” Rose asked, remembering the A-Class wolf that had told them about Allen. “blonde hair and blue eyes? Looks as though he hasn't slept for a week?” she asked. All she saw was a blur before Steve was stood in front of her, moving too fast for her eyes to track.

he added, “I don’t think so. I would know if it was really him. But he has a beard.” I replied, then everyone looked at me and then at each other. “Is there something wrong with what I said?” “What do you mean he has a beard?” Matteo asked, “He has a beard. I remember that the one mom and dad had a talk with was a man without a beard.” “Ronaldo has no beard.” King Marco said, “I have seen him a few times and I never saw him without it.” I replied,

Zoe and I were all giggly and smiles, laughing at the joke they both told. Steve... he is breathtaking and handsome. His hair was blonde and styled in a quiff. He had attractive green eyes and was really tall too. His dimples were to die for and he spoke in the British accent.He was wearing a San Francisco 49ers sweat jacket, over a white T-shirt. Grey sweatpants with a pair of white Nike air max sneakers. “I like you a lot, Rachel.” he said.“Are you serious, Steve?”I asked him. “Of course, you look so beautiful this evening.

I bet he has a fat cock. Rap rap. The knock on the door made me pause. I dropped my phone on the pillow and rose to my feet. Steve stood at the door, a faint smile plastered on his lips. “Hey.” He had now showered and looked… decent. Is that the right word? Yeah, that's probably the right word for any other person in this situation Any other person except for me. His dark hair was combed back, and even though he had on a big shirt over his upper body, I could still see every thick ridge of his hard muscles beneath it without even trying.

People with such looks appearing together with the boss of an entertainment company are mostly newcomers who are going to be promoted. Broderick said, "No, he’s my driver." Rogers's eyelid twitched, "Your driver... was chosen from the idols in your company?" Broderick smiled and said, "Only the upper half of his face looks good, but the lower half of his face is so scary that it could frighten someone to death. That's why he wears a mask when going out even on hot days like this." Broderick kept talking nonsense, not sure if Rogers believed it or not, but he didn't ask again anyway.