Steve Rogers Beard Novels & Stories

Rogers appears and makes his way toward me. “Good job today,” he says, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “I’ll expect you to do as well tomorrow.” “Of course,” I respond, my guard going up. Was this bastard following me? “Don’t be so on guard,” he chuckles, bringing a cigarette to his lips and lighting it. “I’m not going to hurt you.” That was yet to be determined. If my hunch was correct and he was that masked bastard hanging around Brielle, then he already attempted to hurt me; better yet, he tried to fucking kill me.

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.”

His expression was flat and cold. “Who are you?” I asked, breathless. They didn’t answer. Before I could press further, the low growl of a powerful engine cut through the air. A sleek black car pulled up, its headlights casting long shadows across the scene. The back window lowered with a soft hum. Rodger. He sat there like a king on his throne, cigarette between his fingers, dressed in a midnight black suit, and that same familiar smirk playing on his lips. It was the smirk that had once made my skin crawl—and still did.

River growls and snatches the protein shake from my hands, then hands it to Ginny, "You can drink it, darling. You'll appreciate it more, no?" She makes a pained face, but she grabs it. And takes a big sip. "It's yum," she lies, her big eyes watering. I laugh and shake my head, walking away with my brother's smug dumbass face. To be honest, since he's been bald I've realized he's actually less 'rough looking' and a lot prettier than I first expected. Rogan has been calling him 'boy', which pisses River off a lot, so I'm starting to understand his love for his beard comes from him wanting to look manlier, less like a pretty boy. I imagine that's something he needed, back when he was living th

Jack said with a note of finality. Rogers took a deep breath. He was not happy with the cut, but he knew if he does not agree, Jack was not going to do it. He suddenly regrets telling Jack the offer. He just had to accede. So he told Jack he was fine with the cut as long as he does not mess up the job. “It’s what I do Rogers. There’s no way I’d mess it up”. Jack said. “You are not sleeping with her Jack. Just make it appear real?” Rogers said. Jack stood up and left after telling Rogers he understands.

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.

"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."