Steve Rogers Beard Novels & Stories

Rogue coaxed the little girls and was rewarded with their crying easing. “So what happened when I was gone? Not to mention how long was I gone?” Rogue asked looking at the party standing at the foot of his bed. He knew something was rather off with his body. He brought his hand to his chin, and had the shock of his life. Rogue Strife, in his life finally had a beard.

‘Of course, you do. “Alpha, shall we postpone the meeting as you seem to be…” My eyes snapped to him. Opposite me sat a big sturdy man with dark brown skin and a bald head. The hair that should’ve been on his face was on his chin. He had tattoos in random places on his skin and one of his eyes was white. The second one was a reminder that Roger’s eyes used to be hickory brown. The singlet on him was clean but it wouldn’t be for long after what I’d send him to do today.

Owing to this, no one dared move close to him. Although he wasn’t as handsome as Miller, he wasn’t ugly. But even if any lady was to make advances at him, his attitude is a total turn-off. Despite all of these bad sides, he was able to make only one friend in the whole of Omaha, and people wondered how the two got along so well. His name is Rogers. Miller was still caught up in astonishment when Rogers stamped his rod on the ground once again to gain his attention. Before Miller could say a word, Rogers began…

However, Blake is a highly arrogant person; when he sees Roger's indecent and bandaged body, he defaults to looking down on Roger, so he responds to Roger's greeting with a turn back. Roger didn't mind either; he raised an eyebrow and extended his hand to Gray. “Red River's alpha? Hello, nice to meet you.”

I devoted a few moments to ogle him, unblinking. He beamed, and my heart beat a little faster. “Did I pass your inspection, Ms. Rogue?” I didn’t answer him, instead, I strolled my gaze from his head down to his toe. His long hair pulled off into a slicked back, and his face was freshly shaved. His clad thighs fitted perfectly in dark pants. He wore a sleek watch too that effortlessly upgraded his look.

I said in a pouty tone as I walked past Steve, who was turning in slow circles, looking around. It wasn’t like I didn’t have the money, but I was stingy for a reason. My money was like my baby. I didn’t want anyone holding it, let alone touching it. I grabbed my bank card and said to Steve, “Go with Michael. He’s going to get you a haircut, shave, and some clothes.” “No, the hair stays. I like it.” I shrugged, “Suit yourself. It will save me some money then. But the beard goes.”

“Sorry, but she is out right now. We all co-own it though, so you’re welcome to speak to me. I promise I have more patience than Solaris does.” I clicked my tongue. The other rogue had stopped unloading and stood with his arms crossed near the front door. They both had brown hair but the one I was speaking to had a lighter, gold tone to his longer hair. Whereas the other had short dark brown hair. They both were muscular but the one in the back looked like he never missed a day at the gym. Both of them had scars on their face, neck and even the exposed part of their arms. Frankly, if I wasn’t an Alpha, I would have been intimidated.

But it wasn’t time to eat just yet. “Roger?” I asked the owner as I saw him sitting at the back with a ton of bills, and his reading glasses sitting at the very edge of his nose. He was a man in his early fifty’s with salt and pepper hair that he liked to keep long, along with a big beard. He didn’t talk much to his employee’s, and was often strict with management, but he was a pretty decent guy. “Can Julian stay here during my shift today?” Roger frowned as he looked up from the bills, his eyes holding some amount of anger at my question, but since Julian was with me, he didn’t bother scolding me. “He can stay today,” he said in his gruff voice. “Don’t make it a habit, kid.”

"You're... You're not bleeding." "Sorry to disappoint you, little wolf." Ragnar walks forward, his boots echoing off the stone floor like a countdown till he is right in front of me. Up close, his golden eyes are almost hypnotizing, making it feel so natural to do whatever he wants. He could have fooled me with his white coat and stethoscope, but the image of the hooded man with a scythe isn't so easy to forget. "How are you not bleeding?" I struggle for the words. "Interesting, isn't it?" He leans down, lifting my chin. "Just like how you're still alive."

“I have men that aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty if you need the assistance. I simply want to help.” I nod, and Roger shows him to the door. As soon as he’s gone, I pour myself a generous amount of scotch. Tough kid, rough around the edges even with all his posturing in that suit and expensive haircut. Certainly somebody I’d prefer to call an ally than an enemy. When Roger returns, he immediately launches into the earful he's dying to give me. “We didn't need him to tell us it was Jack. I think it was obvious from the beginning that he’s behind this shit.”