Steve X Garrett Fanart Novels & Stories

Xavier explained. Steve's eyes immediately looked sharply at Harvey who was in front of him. "What?! Hey, Harvey! Are you kidding me?” Steve pretended to be angry because he wasn't happy with the explanation he had just heard, more so to get rid of Xavier's suspicions of being a member of the rescue team. Now Steve pointed hard at Harvey's chest. “I know you often suspect me, but your accusations this time are completely unreasonable. Confinement?! Geez, how could I do confinement?!”

“There’s no authentication to this. With the advent of technology everywhere, this would have been photoshopped as people would say. Or maybe the shots were made by you, something like a mastermind to make it look real,” A smirk appeared on Garrett’s face for the umpteenth time since he began the conversation with the elders. Why would he not be expecting them to be defensive to what he was stating? It was so that their names wouldn’t be soiled when word gets out there. “If you take a closer look at the qualities, you would know that it was definitely not photoshopped or made up. And if no one wants to believe what they saw there, then I would be happy to send out an invitation to my packhou

" Nothing is wrong. I just need to meet him quickly, and I want you to stay indoors. Please, don’t go outside until I come back.” Gabby sat up straighter. “Steve, you are making it sound serious.” “I just want you to be safe,” he said firmly. “Promise me you will stay in the house until I come back.” She paused for a second, then nodded. “Okay, I promise. I’ll stay inside and I won't go out.” Steve kissed the top of her head, stood up, and headed out the door. As soon as he stepped outside, his face changed. The calm, gentle expression he showed Gabby disappeared. He was now Steve, the Alpha.

Steven barked, throwing a punch. He didn't even get close. Xander kicked him down like it was nothing. Cold. Precise. "Steven Garrett," he said, voice like ice, "who gave you the guts to touch my wife?" Everyone thought Xander was some buttoned-up gentleman. But I knew better—underneath that charm was pure steel. Steven staggered up, holding his side, and turned the phone camera on Xander. "This guy? He's my wife's lover! Looks fancy, but he's just trash!"

Steve said making the motions of knighting an invisible kneeling man with a sword. “You don’t understand,” Cara said. She was sitting on the edge of the recliner making wild hand gestures as she spoke. She was manic and Steve could tell. “Now I get it,” Steve said. “Get what?” Cara asked. “That tattoo on your back. The one over your butt crack.” “What do you mean?” “It’s a picture of Jack the ripper, with fangs. Now I get the connection.” “The tattoo shop didn’t have a vampire dressed like Jack the ripper so I had them put fangs on what they had.”

My thoughts would remain fixated on Raya. "I was wondering where my sexy people had run off to," Garret, our Gamma, sauntered up the path leading to the pack house, his ever-present kind smile gracing his youthful face. I could tell he was up to something by the mischievous twinkle in his light brown eyes. You always had to keep an eye on Garret, as his favorite pastime was playing pranks on anyone and everyone - even Cruz. The guy had some serious balls to pull one over on our alpha the way he does.

“That’s good.” “You’re really okay with me?” Xavier said. “You’re not mad?” “I’m looking forward to having the older brother I should have had.” Thea felt Xavier’s emotions go haywire. Hope. Gratitude. Love. Garret looked around Xavier’s cell. His eyes stopped on the books. “I tried to get you to read Harry Potter for years,” Garret said. “What can I say? I guess it takes a heart,” Xavier said. Garret laughed. “Is it okay if I visit you?” Garret said.

"Thank you for agreeing to see me." "Let us make this quick." I stayed seated deliberately not offering my hand. "I am not interested in whatever you came here to propose." "You have not even heard what I have to offer." Garrett pulled a wrapped package from the bag he carried and set it on the coffee table between us. "I brought you something." "I do not want any more gifts." "Just look at it. Please." Against my better judgment, I unwrapped the package. Inside was a painting. A beautiful detailed portrait of a white wolf running through moonlight. The artist had captured every detail perfectly from the silver fur to the blue eyes. It was clearly meant to represent me.

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.

As if he’d been expecting it. I threw my cigarette on the floor, ignoring the way goosebumps scattered across my skin in irritation. “We need to talk about Carl and what he’s doing.” I said lowly, gaining satisfaction from using my boot to crush the cigarette that was still lit. Steve raised an eyebrow, his sea green eyes dancing with amusement “What he’s doing? Or what you’re doing?” He asked, unsure. “You’ve been tiptoeing around this for a while now, Xavier. Haven’t you?”