Could def see him as a retired (maybe due to injury or bc he didn’t want to play anymore) nhl player who got signed up by his friend actually or maybe he got drafted but turned it down because he found his calling being an athletic trainer who couches youth teams
wait I love that 🥺 I could also see him transitioning to youth coaching after he leaves the Villa and the hype dies down a bit bc he and reader would definitely be some of the most famous of the cast and I feel like his personal trainer business would kinda turn into people wanting to meet him (and/or flirt with him lol)
in my head (based on what you’ve said), garrett was drafted and predicted to be the next big things within certain circles, but he decided to cut ties with the nhl because they’re.. problematic. maybe there’s a guy on the team who’s a bit too much like ph*l/d*laney but it’s “okay” because “he’s so talented” and has “such a promising career” and “everyone makes mistakes” and “what happens off the ice don’t need to be brought on to the ice”
um. so.. he’s a niche celebrity. am i projecting too much haha
oh you know what! I could definitely see him being projected to be a generational player in the NHL or something, but maybe gets an injury at some point in his college career that isn't like permanently life-changing but does take him out for the season and then through his recovery process (his physical therapy, the team trainer working with him though rehab/strength conditioning, etc.) realizes that that feels like a better fit for him (especially with his experience with problematic players) and ends up not signing with the Bruins and kinda just lays low with his athletic training business (where he definitely posts gym thirst traps and that's how he gains more of a following 😭)
and then when he shows up on Love Island people are like
bc some of them remember him from his college career
Dean and Logan have yet to make their entrance so what the incoming bombshell that takes interest in reader is one of them… it’s very in character to Logan if you ask me
no yeah…….. that would be crazy…….. if it was Logan…….. super crazy…..
I think reader can have whatever job you want her to have and I'll leave it ambiguous (also, whatever her job is, she's gonna be booked and busy the second she leaves that Villa anyway lol)
my two thoughts for Garrett is either he still plays hockey, but in this universe he only made it to the AHL bc idk if an NHL player would go on Love Island 😭😭 or he works as a personal trainer/athletic trainer who works independently or for a minor league sports team
You’re Too Nice to Me When I Tell You Things | Love Island!Garrett
SUMMARY In the morning after your fight, Garrett finally opens up to you.
CONTENT love island au, fem reader, this is kinda from Garrett's pov so that's fun! hurt/comfort (reader comforting Garrett—I wanted to show a bit of a different side of their relationship bc our silly yapper girl does take care of him too), love island relationship dynamics, use of pet names (sweet boy, baby), if you recognize a section of this from something I wrote on my old account... no you didn't :) , this probably isn't how the filming of love island works but for Garrett's privacy let's pretend, talks of Garrett's canon childhood (child abuse, domestic abuse, parental death), Garrett cries and has a panic attack (but it's not graphic), there's one line that could be interpreted as suicidal ideation but it's not explicit and very brief, happy ending, barely edited
A/N this is a direct part two to this fic, which I recommend reading first. this got way sadder than I meant for it to, like this is the first time in a while I've actually cried while writing something, but I hope that it's a satisfying reconciliation for you guys and gives you a bit more insight into (this version of) Garrett :) anyway, please enjoy!
love island masterlist
For the few hazy seconds between sleep and wake, Garrett forgets.
He stretches out slowly, searching for the familiar warmth of the body next to him, the feeling of a leg wedged between his own because “I can’t sleep if my thighs are touching” but somehow being sandwiched between both of his is fine. Instead he feels the empty cushion of the daybed, the slightly cool morning air because he kicked his blanket off at some point in the night, and the weight of a stuffed white tiger lodged between the crook of his elbow and his bicep.
And then Garrett remembers.
He sits up with an exhausted breath of air, rubbing two hands over his face. It’s so early that the sun still seems to be deciding on whether it wants to start rising or not, the Villa unusually quiet, like he’s woken up before time has actually started yet.
Garrett’s surprised that he doesn’t feel tired. He thought that he wouldn’t be able to sleep, that he’d be up tossing and turning the whole night, but the day before had left him so exhausted that it took him about as long as it took his head to hit the pillow to slip from consciousness entirely. And now, much more rested and removed from the situation, he’s able to look back on your fight with much more clarity.
He looks down, his eyes landing on the stuffed animal flopped awkwardly next to him.
“I fucking suck, huh?” He laughs hopelessly. And then, because it feels inconsiderate not to, he grabs Snowy and places her on his lap, fixing her limbs until she sits more comfortable.
With a touch lighter than he’s ever touched anything, Garrett traces the fur right above one of her glass eyes. He remembers a day, probably only a few days after you had coupled up for the first time, when you’d been feeling especially homesick. You curled up on one of the couches, Snowy on your chest and your chin resting on her head—which was unusual since you usually never brought her out of the bedroom—a wistful look on your face, your mouth scrunched in the way it does when you’re sad about something but trying to tell yourself that you’re not.
You’d explained it to him then, when he sat down next to you and rested his head on your shoulder, that you’d taken Snowy with you everywhere with you when you were younger. That she was a tapestry of your childhood. Through a bittersweet smile, you showed him the coffee stain on her paw from when your dad had knocked over his mug and you weren’t able to snatch her off the table fast enough. You showed him the blot of nail polish on her nose from when you’d come to your mom crying because Snowy’s nose had chipped. She grabbed one of the small, fancy bottles of expensive nail polish she only used on special occasions and layered on the lacquer until Snowy’s nose was fixed.
You told him about the time you and your sister had watched 101 Dalmatians for the first time and she thought Dalmatians were way cooler than tigers and sharpied black polka dots on the side of Snowy’s stomach. You showed him the small stain of detergent at the base of her tail from the time you’d accidentally spilled foundation on her and an ex-boyfriend had spent the day with a YouTube tutorial and a Dollar Store toothbrush trying to get it out. The sky blue thread just under one of her arms your best friend had used to stitch up a hole that had torn there.
You swore that her left ear smelled like your grandmother’s perfume and your grandad had been the one to get her for you in the first place. You told him that Snowy was a collection of everyone you’d ever loved.
And then you said that you knew it was probably silly, that you didn’t expect things like giant sharpie polka dots and your mom’s expensive nail polish to matter that much to people who weren’t you, but since that day, anytime anyone tried to tease you about your stuffed animal, he’d tell them to shut up in a tone that left no room for misunderstanding.
Because he wanted those things to matter to him too. And he wanted to maybe—hopefully—one day be one of those things that mattered to you.
The air shifts suddenly when the quiet of the morning is interrupted by the sound of someone leaving the bedroom. Garrett’s breath stutters when he sees you walk out, wiping sleep from your eye with one hand as the other holds on to your empty water bottle. Your gaze gravitates to the daybed you know he’s sleeping on and when you realize that he’s awake—and watching you too—you freeze in surprise.
For a moment neither of you moves, you just look at him, eyes flicking down briefly to your stuffed animal in his lap. And then you turn away and walk to the kitchen to fill up your water bottle. Garrett looks down defeatedly, letting out a quiet breath as he tries to calculate how many more hours he has to just sit and get lost in his head before everyone else wakes up and the day actually starts.
He hears you finish in the kitchen, the sound traveling over the silent dawn, but your footsteps don’t immediately retreat back to the bedroom. Instead you walk until you’re a few feet away from him before you stop.
“I, um, I’m ready to talk about yesterday if—If you need more time, that’s okay—I’ll just… I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.” You can’t meet his eye and Garrett hates it, that ugly feeling sinking into his chest again.
You turn to go.
“Now,” he says suddenly, his voice cracking from lack of use. “I’m—I’m ready to talk about it now.”
You nod slowly and move to sit down on the daybed across from him. It’s probably the most privacy the two of you will have, it’s too early for either of you to have your mic packs on and no one’s awake to make sure that they have multiple cameras at multiple angles filming a spot as inconsequential as the daybeds. Garrett thinks he realizes this at the same time as you and he rolls his shoulders out before letting out a breath.
“I’m sorry.”
It doesn’t feel remotely enough and you must know that because you stay silent.
“I shouldn’t have—I said a lot of stuff that wasn’t true and… And I took something out on you that isn’t your fault and that wasn’t fair. I, um, I do need you and you do take care of me and I promise I never thought that you didn’t. I mean, I spent one night without you and I fucking hated it, I just—That scares me more than anything, honestly.”
He swallows, one of his hands wrapping around the other as he squeezes his knuckles. “But that’s not a good reason—I don’t have a good reason. But I…” He looks up and you’re finally looking at him, worry heavy in your gaze as you watch his hands start to shake. “I have to tell you something about… About me.”
You nod again, your voice a soft whisper. “Okay.”
Garrett takes a deep breath.
“You know what I’ve told you about my dad? How he—Well that wasn’t—That wasn’t all of it,” he squeezes his hand harder, fingers curling into a fist.
His mouth opens, but the words get clogged in his throat, like suddenly every thought is impossible to articulate. You don’t rush him though, or interrupt to push him through it. You listen, like even his silence matters enough to listen to.
“My… My mom died, when I was 11, and my dad wasn’t… He was never a good dad. Or husband. He, um—,” Garrett lets out a humorless, uncomfortable chuckle. “Sorry, I don’t really know how—,”
You reach out for him slowly, like he’s a stray dog whose hackles could raise if you move too quickly—or maybe that’s just what he feels like. Whatever it is, it doesn’t scare you out of wrapping your hand around his.
“That’s okay.”
He runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “No, it’s—I should be able to just say it.”
“It’s okay if you can’t,” you tell him gently.
It feels like a lie to Garrett, but you’re looking at him in such earnestness that he has to believe you. He nods, letting out a shaky breath.
“She never really talked about it. I know—I know that she was just trying to protect me, but I wasn’t stupid… I knew she was miserable. I knew he made her miserable. And I kind of… Fuck—,” He looks up as his eyes water, sniffing loudly to push through it. “I, um, I kind of resented her sometimes? For not leaving. For… For not taking me with her when she did.”
He’s biting the inside of his cheek so hard he can taste copper in his mouth. Your hand leaves his suddenly, the warmth of your palm replaced by cool air. You get up before he can question it and for a sinking, devastating second he thinks you’re going to leave. But then you’re crossing the short distance to his daybed, curling up on the cushion next to him.
You grab his hand again, tracing soothing strokes across the bones of his fingers as you gently coax them out of his curled fist and tangle them with your own. Wordlessly, you squeeze—though not as forcefully as he had been—like you know he needs the pressure to ground him. He’s not quite sure how you know, but somehow you always do.
He stares at your interlocked fingers as he continues, “I—I don’t feel that way now, I know it’s more complicated than that. That it’s not as simple as I thought it’d be when I was a kid. I know that it was hard for my mom. Taking care of a kid is a lot and, even if she did leave, courts suck, and my dad had money, and there wasn’t really anywhere we could go. It’s… It’s harder when you have to take care of someone. And maybe if my mom didn’t have to take care of me, it would have been easier for her to leave him. Like, if I didn’t need her so much, she could’ve—Maybe she would’ve been happier.”
“And sometimes it scares me because what if one day you’d be happier? Or—,” He clears his throat, though it doesn’t really do anything. “I do think in some dark, fucked up way, my dad needed my mom too and what if—What if I need you the way he did and you care about me too much to leave?”
“Garrett…” Your voice breaks in understanding, your arms wrapping around him tightly.
He melts into your chest and something about the way you’re petting his hair and letting him hold onto you like a lifeline—even after everything—has the tears streaming down his face before he can stop them.
He shakes his head fervently. “I don’t look at you like you’re a ‘damsel in distress’. I wish I—You’re not scared to—Feel things. Even the bad stuff. And you know how to—How to tell people so that they understand and I don’t—I can’t—I—I got mad and I threw it in your face—And I’m so sorry!”
Each breath feels like it’s cracking open his ribcage, causing each one to be more short and shallow than the last, puffing raggedly against your arm.
“Garrett. Hey.” You cup his face gently, your voice calm as you force him to look at you. “I need you to breathe, sweet boy. You’re okay.”
“No. No.” Garrett pushes away from you suddenly, wiping uselessly at his eyes. “I—I’m not saying this to—To guilt-trip you into forgiving me. I fucked up—You’re allowed to be mad at me—You should be mad at me—!”
“I know that’s not what you’re doing, baby. I’m not mad at you.” You reach for him again, but he’s still fighting it.
“How can you say that?”
“Garrett, you made a mistake,” you tell him firmly. “I did too. But that’s not—Look, if you won’t do it for you, then… Do it for me please because I really need a hug right now.”
Your lips curl into a sad smile, your eyes glassy. And maybe if Garrett were a stronger man, he’d refuse, because he knows he doesn’t deserve it. But he isn’t a stronger man. Just like every other time, he takes one look at your pleading eyes and complies instantly.
He’s wrapped in your arms just as quickly as you take on the full force of his body weight without complaint—if anything, you’re insisting that you do, hugging him tightly as you rest your chin on the top of his head.
“I’m sorry too,” you whisper through the kiss you press to the crown of his head. “I shouldn’t have said what I said and I shouldn’t have accused you of not caring about me. I was just hurt and wanted you to feel hurt too and that was wrong. You didn’t deserve that.”
Garrett’s arms tighten around your middle and when you clear your throat, it sounds congested.
“And I… I am so sorry that you went through that, and that—You never should have had to experience that. You or your mom. But, Garrett... I promise you that your mom would choose this life with you over every life where she couldn’t have you.” He feels one of your hands move to stroke gently at the side of his neck as you cradle his head.
“And I know that because, even though I never knew her, I know you. I know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do if it meant I got to have you and I know your mom feels the same because… Because you’re better than everything, Garrett.”
It’s somehow the worst and best thing Garrett’s ever heard in his life. His shoulders shake as you run your fingers through his curls. The tank top you wore to bed is probably covered in wet patches and he’s sure he’ll feel embarrassed about it later, but right now, Garrett just needs you. And he needs you to hold him, and run your hands through his hair, and take care of him, and do all the things he’s tired of pretending he doesn’t.
“I, ugh, I feel like such an asshole.” You let out, what sounds like, a mix between a wet chuckle and a sniffle. “I shouldn’t have said any of that. You’re literally always so good to me, I should’ve known that something bigger was bothering you.”
Garrett shakes his head against your collarbone. “You didn’t know. I could’ve just talked to you.”
“Yeah, maybe.” You gently work through one of his tangled curls with your fingers. “But I’m not going to hold it against you that you weren’t exactly jumping at the opportunity to talk about it directly into a microphone and camera.”
When Garrett finally tilts his head, so that his cheek is pressed against your clavicle, he finds that you’re already looking at him knowingly.
You smooth a thumb tenderly against one of his brows. “Look, this isn’t exactly a normal situation people find themselves in. I don’t know about you but, usually, if the guy I was seeing was also kissing my friends every other day, that would kind of be a dealbreaker for me.”
You smile when Garrett makes a slight face at your words—he’s never exactly been subtle about the fact that, if it were up to him, you wouldn’t be doing that in here either.
“So I think it’s okay for us to be understanding,” you continue your point. “And, yeah, if this is something that keeps happening then we’d need to have a bigger conversation about it, but it happened once. And you messed up and you know it and I messed up and I know it. And I know now that it wasn’t really about me, you needed me to be more understanding in that moment and I wasn’t—,”
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I should’ve—,”
You smush your palm against his mouth with a playful groan. “Oh my god, would you please put aside your Atlas complex for five seconds—I feel like I’m talking to Batman. How about we both could’ve handled it better? Can you accept that?”
“Batman’s cool.” Garrett ignores your questions to pout against your palm.
He watches as you move your hand from his mouth to his cheek, drying his tear tracks with your fingers as you look at him fondly.
You reach up with your other hand to push a loose curl away from his forehead. “He also needs an SSRI and a court-mandated therapist.”
In the quiet air of the morning, with the rising sun lighting you up in a golden angelic glow, Garrett finally laughs.
“Yeah, you’re right. I think Nightwing’s cooler anyway. He’s like if Batman had more hope.” When your eyes suddenly darken, Garrett cocks his head slightly. “What?”
“That was actually the hottest thing you’ve ever said.”
Garrett’s eyes widen in amused disbelief. “That was the hottest thing I’ve said?”
“Uh-huh,” you nod, lids dropping as you lift your neck. Garrett takes the hint and drops his head to press his lips against yours. “Talk nerdy to me, baby.”
Garrett lets out a loud, surprised laugh against your mouth. “Okay, you’re done. You’re done.”
“What?” You’re giggling when he pulls away.
He just shakes his head endearingly, letting his body drop back on top of you as you stretch out on the daybed. Your fingers make their way back to his hair, carding through it gently as you both watch the sunrise.
After a few minutes of silence, you let out a quiet laugh. “Our fight didn’t even make it to sunrise.”
“You say that like it wasn’t the longest day of my life,” Garrett grumbles and tightens his arms around you.
“How much do you wanna bet that the producers are gonna make us re-enact making up when they realize they missed it?”
Garrett grunts against the strap of your tank top. “They can get the version where I drop to my knees in front of everyone and beg you to take me back.” He presses a chaste kiss to your shoulder when you laugh. “Also, we’re never fighting again.”
You raise your brows in amusement. “We’re gonna fight, Garrett. That’s just how life works sometimes.”
“...Fine.” He relents. “But we have to take a nap first. Together.”
“Yeah, okay.” You have that fond look on your face again as you look at him. “And then we make up.” You hold your pinkie out for him.
Garrett shifts so he can wrap his pinkie around yours, your smiles practically identical as you look at each other.
“Yeah, then we make up.”
please don't copy, repost, or feed my work into ai, thanks!
okay okay okay i know there are plans for the casa fic and that they will make up prior to this but GODDD imagine the boys get sent to casa before they're able to talk it out and poor garrett is so desperate to apologize. production had taken the one moment they fought and RAN with it because twt blew up post superlative vote.
garrett is literally writing letters in a bottle or some shit like that but every time he's about to send it off he's like "she deserves an apology in person :("
oh my god the thought of this makes me want to throw up, I love it
could you imagine the angst of her thinking he's not actually serious about her and then bam a bunch of hot Casa guys walk through the door?? I think Garrett would actually turn into the Joker 😭
WHY DID I ASK AGAIN TO BE ADDED TO THE RAGLIST IGNORE ME I BEG OF YOU. IM DUMB LMAOOOOOO
And now I’m bashful 😔
omg you are totally good, don't be bashful!! and thank you for your help with the picture stuff—I definitely like the idea y'all came up with better so I appreciate it very much 😌🫶
I also do think I have you on the love island taglist (which I've now closed bc I'm not trying to get banned for spam) but I know it sometimes still doesn't tag people so if you aren't getting the notifications I could try again!
babe that’s not a small bump in the road that is a pothole the city could be sued for.
honestly though? this one’s on me. i knew how powerful you are with angst, how merciless, and i still thought i’d be spared because this is a silly goofy love island fic (not jtldm or the voicemail fic or trial run or any of your previous works that have left me feeling like a pincushion) — i should never have underestimated you, my queen. you lured me into a false sense of security with fluff, sure, but i should never have left my guard down. you caught me slipping and that’s on me.
I'M SORRY 😭😭 I PROMISE I REALLY WAS GONNA FLUFFMAX BUT YOU GUYS ASKED FOR ANGST AND I COULDN'T NOT DELIVER!! THAT'S MY BAG!!
And I Once Saw It Clearly, but It’s Bloodshot | Love Island!Garrett
SUMMARY You and Garrett have your first fight.
CONTENT love island au, fem reader, use of y/n, angst, fighting, insecurities, miscommunication I guess, reader kinda dissociates but it's not explicit, reader and Garrett are both kinda mean, some of the stuff I mention in this part hasn't been written yet—I tried not to make it too confusing (hopefully), barely edited
A/N ok I know the bombshell fic was supposed to be next, but I was in an angsty mood and had this request and wrote this in like 3 hours and here we are. as you could maybe guess by the title I listened to "hit the wall" on repeat while writing this, so do with that information what you will. also I'M SORRY 😭😭 but technically people asked for this so it isn't my fault and I should not be held responsible
love island masterlist
It was a running joke in the Villa that you and Garrett never fought. You liked to talk far too much to not communicate with him and Garrett basically worshiped the ground you walked on so, much to the chagrin of production, the two of you were usually able to work through issues peacefully before it blew up into anything too big.
You didn’t sneak behind each other’s back, you were honest with your feelings, and when you talked about how much you liked each other you meant it. But that didn’t mean that you didn’t have flaws. All relationships have problems and even the best relationship—especially the best relationship—in an environment designed to make people as emotional and dramatic as possible is no exception.
So it was kind of prophetic that when you and Garrett finally did have your first fight, it was the worst fight the Villa had seen so far.
“Lola and Justin, please reveal who you voted for as ‘the most one-sided couple’.”
The day had already started badly. You and Garrett had barely gotten any sleep the night before and the Fiji heat had been unrelenting, but the spark that finally lit the fuse was that morning’s challenge. With the newest bombshells having settled in and made their steals, the challenges had become a bit more personal. Now, instead of hot make-outs or being covered in slime, each couple was given a list of superlatives that they had to assign to the other couples. The prompts ranged anywhere from “who’s the most physical couple?” to “which couple would be the first to break up on the outside?”. And, of course, “who’s the most one-sided couple?”.
Lola shifts uncomfortably. “We, um, we voted for Garrett and Y/N as the most one-sided. Not because we think one of them likes the other way more, but—Um…”
“We just think that Garrett puts more effort into the relationship,” Justin finishes for her. “Like, he’s always doing stuff for her or taking care of her and we just don’t feel like she does a lot of that for him.”
“Garrett and Y/N, do you think that’s a fair assessment of your couple?” Ariana asks.
Because you so often do, everyone waits for you to speak. To wave it off with your cheery attitude and take it on the chin because everyone knows, regardless of what they voted for, that you and Garrett are also the strongest couple in the Villa and that’s, far and away, more important.
But you don’t.
Your eyes are trained on the floor in front of you, so lost in thought that your vision blurs. Your expression is unreadable—you, yourself, aren’t entirely sure what you’re feeling.
Garrett clears his throat finally. “They’re entitled to their opinion, I guess. But they aren’t in our couple, so they don’t see everything that we do.”
“So you think it’s unfair of them to say that Y/N doesn’t do a lot for you?”
And, genuinely, you expect Garrett to say ‘yes’. Yes, it’s unfair of them to say that you don’t put any effort into your relationship. Yes, you take care of Garrett and do stuff for him. That just because they don’t see that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t.
“I don’t need her to.”
The words hit you like a bullet.
Even as Ariana moves on to the next couple and more and more of them say similar things—that it’s not that they think that you don’t like Garrett or that other couples are particularly strong, it’s just that Garrett does more for you than anyone else does for their partner, that it’s not that you do nothing, Garrett just does more, that they had to pick someone—none of those words make it past the single sentence ringing in your ears.
“I don’t need her to.”
And somewhere in the time it takes for the challenge to end, those words twist into something uglier, like you’re picking through the wreckage to discover the worse, more real, underlying truth. Garrett doesn’t need you.
Because, if all you give Garrett is stress-induced migraines and responsibilities he didn’t ask for, then what reason does he have to stay? When he gets tired of your nonstop rambling or decides you’re finally more effort than you’re worth, what else do you have that’s worth staying for?
“You okay?”
You feel almost out of body, like you’re watching yourself sit by the pool as Garrett sits down next to you instead of actually living it. Like you can’t actually feel the water lapping at your ankles.
“What’s wrong?”
Like you’re just watching a movie—one that you’ve already seen before. Where you can sense that you already know the ending, but don’t remember it clearly enough to be ready for when it happens.
“Is this about the vote thing?” When you still don’t answer, Garrett drops his head, trying to catch your gaze. “Hey. Talk to me.”
Normally that’s enough. Normally, Garrett’s gentle tone and soft eyes are enough for you to open up about everything you’re feeling, leaning into him for comfort as he listens like he always does. But this time all you can think about is the effort of it all, of how much Garrett has to do just to keep things on track.
And it seems like Garrett might have realized that too.
He lets out a frustrated breath. “How long are we going to keep doing this?”
You still don’t speak, don’t even look up from the pool, and he runs a hand through his curls.
“I—I’m trying to be here for you, but I don’t know how to help you if, instead of talking to me or trusting me, you forget all of that because of what other people think—,”
“I don’t care about what they think, I care about what you think, Garrett!” You cry out finally. “Yeah, it hurt my feelings but—She asked you if you agreed with them, that I don’t put effort into our relationship, and you said you didn’t need me to.”
“That wasn’t—I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then how did you mean it? Because it sounded like you don’t think I do anything to take care of you.”
When Garrett doesn’t immediately respond, your expression breaks, your words cracking with hurt, “Do you not think I take care of you?”
“That doesn’t matter,” Garrett shakes his head. “Because I don’t need it.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean ‘why’?”
“I mean, why are you even with me if you think I’m not doing that stuff for you? Couples are supposed to be there for each other, Garrett!” You push. “So why won’t you—?”
Garrett scoffs. “Is this seriously a big deal to you?”
“Yes!”
“Well, can you just drop it? I’m telling you it doesn’t matter—,”
“If it doesn’t matter, then just tell me why—!”
“I don’t know, because I don’t fucking hate myself?!” Garrett’s voice suddenly raises in anger.
Around you the Villa quiets, the other Islanders looking on in surprise at a sight that feels so out of place that it’s alien—you and Garrett yelling at each other by the pool.
“I don’t need you to be there for me because I don’t cry my eyes out the second someone says something mean—Or spend the whole day, like, fucking deconstructing our relationship because of what some people who can’t even solve issues in their own relationships think! That’s why!”
Your eyes harden and you curl your arms around yourself protectively. “Is that what you actually think of me?”
“What?”
“You think I’m just—Is that what this is to you?” You hate yourself for the tears welling up in your eyes, looking up to try and blink them away, though it barely works. “I’m just some damsel in distress fantasy where you can come in and fix everything? It’s not that you don’t need me to take care of you, you don’t want me to. Because if I’m not totally helpless without you, if you also need my help, then you can’t pretend like you saved me just to feel good about yourself.”
“I feel like you forget that my life didn’t just magically start the moment I met you. And I’ve been taking care of myself just fine without you.” You wipe at your cheek harshly with the heel of your hand.
“I never said you couldn’t!” Garrett throws his hands out in frustration
“No. But you wish I couldn’t.”
Garrett looks stunned for a moment before his lips curl into a disbelieving sneer. “Don’t do that—Don’t fucking psychoanalyze me like you know what I’m feeling. Don’t project your shit onto me just because you’re the only one who doesn’t know how to get over your own issues.”
“I am not psychoanalyzing you! You want me to psychoanalyze you? You’re a liar, Garrett. You do hate yourself.” You tell him pointedly, your voice dropping in betrayal. “That’s why you want to fix me so badly, not because you care about me or think I deserve it, because you don’t know how to fix yourself.”
The bullet that Garrett had lodged in your chest is finally fired back at him, cutting through all the hurt, frustration, and confusion with a laser focus. For a moment, Garrett just stands there, like he’s waiting for you to take it back, to crumple into deep guilt and wobbling apologies.
You don’t.
With a resigned, jaded nod, he turns around and walks away.
You wait until he’s out of sight before racing to anywhere private, tears streaming down your face as the girls all rush to follow you.
You wanted to believe that your fight with Garrett would linger, that the aftermath would shake everyone to their core and have a noticeable effect on the Villa. The truth is, it matters just as long as the girls comfort you, in the passing seconds that they lock eyes with you and send you a sad smile, in the moment just after Garrett enters a room and everyone holds their breath. But outside of those moments, it didn’t have the world altering effect that you thought it would—not to anyone but you.
You and Garrett don’t talk for the rest of the day, avoiding each other with an icy cold shoulder frozen solid by the deep hurt you’ve both caused and the persistent care you still have that makes you sick at the thought of doing anything to hurt each other more.
For the first time, you don’t know how to talk to him. It feels foreign, because even when you didn’t know him—when you thought you didn’t know how to talk to him—you did. You always could. And now you can’t and you don’t know how to fix it.
You get ready for bed through falling tears, giving up on trying to wait for them to stop to continue with your skincare routine. They don’t, and your moisturizer dilutes on your cheeks. Hannah steals you pitying glances, Allie offers you one of her sleep sets that she knows you love, Dionne has a blanket folded on her bed, waiting to see if she’ll need to join you outside.
And sleeping outside was your plan, your eyes locking with Garrett’s uncomfortably as you move to grab your pillows from your bed.
“Don’t.” Garrett stops you quietly, pulling the pillow from your weak grip and setting it back down on the bed. “Just… You don’t have to do that. I’ll sleep outside.”
He picks up his own pillow, his expression unreadable as he takes the blanket Dionne offers him.
“Garrett—,”
He leaves the bedroom before you can argue. You follow him out before you can think better of it.
His back is to you as he drops his blanket and pillow on one of the daybeds, not even bothering to smooth them out from the cottony lump they land in. He sighs heavily as he recognizes the sound of your footsteps.
“Look, I don’t want to fight with you right now. Can we do this later? Please?”
“I wasn’t—,” He turns around to face you finally and he just looks tired. It hits you with such a wave of sadness that you can’t even find it in yourself to get through your meaningless explanation. “Here.”
You hold Snowy out for him, the old, graying stuffed animal filling the space between you.
“You shouldn’t... I didn’t want you to feel alone out here.”
Garrett reaches out for her with the hesitance of a man waiting for you to change your mind and snatch her back. You don’t and, once he takes Snowy from your grip completely, he just stares at her, swallowing thickly. When he finally looks up, his mouth opens, readying for words he has yet to figure out how to say.
But you’ve already walked away.
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could u maybe write smth angsty for the love island couple with garrett… i love how perfect and understanding they are with each other, but every couple also has their lows, so maybe you could write smth angsty - like a nasty fight between them or miscommunication or smth, that isn’t just smth little, but like an actual low in their relationshop
ok I won't lie, I struggled with this one for a bit, but I was hit with a sudden wave of inspiration and I think I came up with something that feels realistic for them (?? hopefully)
REQUEST GUIDELINES: I currently only write female reader inserts. I will not write any explicitly dark content (noncon, abuse, etc.) where the character is committing those acts against the reader. any other requests where a reader is dealing with/recovering from dark themes will only be written if I feel comfortable/knowledgeable enough to write them. I will write smut, but again, only if I feel comfortable/knowledgeable enough. I have no timeline for fics, so if you want to ask about when an update will be (please be nice!!) and know that I probably won't have an answer. if you have any other questions, feel free to ask :)
IMPORTANT NOTE: I appreciate and am excited for every request (and will try to fulfill them to the best of my ability) but please know that sending a request is not a guarantee that it will be written
after the casa amor recoupling and they inevitably recouple, i say the hideaway opens the next night 👀 cause garrett been hungry for reader and she’s just as if not more hungry for him
ooh yes I have definitely received a few requests for them to get a night in the Hideaway, but yeah would it be more fun for them to go before or after Casa 🤔
SUMMARY It’s finally time for the first recoupling. Except this time, it’s in the hands of the fans.
CONTENT love island au, fem reader, use of y/n, love island relationship dynamics, use of pet names (baby), brief insecurities, somewhat suggestive, barely edited
A/N so sorry for the wait, but the recoupling fic is finally here!! I had the hardest time writing it for some reason so it's kinda choppy, but here it is! this is a direct continuation of this fic, so I'd recommend reading that first. also since this was originally not meant to be it's own part, I added this request in at the end. wanted to get this out a bit early bc I'm seeing the new spider-man tonight so please enjoy!
love island masterlist
The morning comes far earlier than you would have liked it to. You wake up with a crick in your neck and a “crying your eyes out for several hours” induced migraine. But that’s what you get for sleeping on the daybeds and not drinking any water before going to sleep.
After the recoupling text, you and Garrett went back to the bedroom to grab your blanket and pillows because, shockingly, you had not wanted to share a bed with Joe—(Garrett tried to insist that you shouldn’t have to do that, offering to kick Joe out of the room for you, but you weren’t quite ready to face everyone else either). Your plan was to spend the night in Soul Ties, but when you got there, you realized Tucker had already set up camp.
Through a sad smile, he explained that after your abrupt exit from Movie Night, they still had to watch the final clip behind door number five. Apparently Meg and Joe had done far more than the heavy flirting you’d seen in his clips. At this point, you couldn’t give less of a fuck anymore but the information had been hurtful to Tucker.
For the second time that night, you had to argue a man out of his chivalrous tendencies when Tucker got up to move and let you sleep in the more comfortable Soul Ties. You told him that he would not be doing that and spent the night on the daybeds instead. And thus, you wake up feeling like you got hit by a bus.
You shuffle into the kitchen, wincing as the sun hits your eyes. Tucker’s already awake when you get there, scrambling some eggs around in a pan.
“Mornin’.” He gives you a small nod of acknowledgement, smiling at you over his shoulder.
“Good morning.” You smile softly, starting to fill up your water bottle. “How you feelin’?”
“Like shit. You?”
You laugh at his candor, taking a large gulp of water. “Same. I think I cried all the moisture out of my body, my head is killing me.”
Between you, the toaster pops off, releasing two pieces of toast. Tucker plates them quickly, before shoveling the scrambled eggs on as well.
“Here.” He hands you the plate.
“Tuck—,”
“I was making it for you anyway,” he interrupts your protests with a sad smile. “I figured neither of us exactly have breakfast plans right now.”
You look down at the plate like he handed you glittering jewels, your eyes already welling up.
Setting the plate on the counter quickly, you throw your arms around Tucker. “Thank you.”
“It’s just a plate of eggs and toast,” he chuckles, but his arms tighten against you anyway.
“I know.” You pull away from him slowly after giving him one last squeeze. “But you made it for me.”
The two of you chat for a bit longer, before the rest of the Villa starts waking up and you leave him to start on his own breakfast as you head up to the dressing room to get ready for the day.
You need to take a steadying breath to collect yourself before opening the door. An uncomfortable air hangs over the room, the usually loud conversations and laughter now just quiet whispers. All the girls look up when you come in.
“Oh my god,” Allie scrambles out of her stool, nearly tripping as she rushes over to pull you into a bear hug. “I wanted to check on you last night, but Garrett said you needed some space.”
You have to hold your plate out awkwardly not to get egg on her, but she doesn’t let go. You shoot Hannah a grateful smile as she takes it from you, setting it down before she too joins the hug.
“I missed you last night, it was weird not being able to roll over and talk to you.”
“Genuinely.” Dionne nods, and now you’re being hugged tightly by all three girls in the doorway of the dressing room. “Next time you wanna sleep outside, we’re having a sleepover.”
Yet again, your eyes well up and you bury your face in Allie’s shoulder. “Guys…”
At the sound of your tears, Allie pulls away, cupping your face and wiping your cheeks. “Uh-uh, no more crying, we all did enough of that last night. Today we’re bad bitches who don’t need no man.”
You laugh, nodding in agreement.
“How are you feeling?” Hannah squeezes your hand.
“I’ve been better,” you shrug. “But Tucker made me eggs and they’re really good.”
Your eyes drift to Meg, who’s sitting at one of the farther away vanities, straightening her hair. When she feels your gaze, she looks up and forces a small, awkward smile.
“Hey…”
“Hi,” you clear your throat.
You offer nothing else, picking up your eggs again and sitting down to get ready.
The realization that Meg had not only done nothing to defend you from the way Joe was speaking about you, but had also snuck around with him behind your back had hurt more than you thought it would. Meg wasn’t your closest friend in the Villa, but you thought that you were friends enough that she wouldn’t do something like that to you. The fact that she had wasn’t something you were ready to unpack with her this early in the morning, but you also weren’t ready to pretend everything was fine. So, for now, you have nothing to say to her.
If the other girls notice the awkward tension they don’t say anything. Instead, Allie turns to you. “Okay, now that you’re here we can tell you everything that happened last night.”
“What happened?”
“Well, for starters, basically every couple is on the rocks right now. Me and Sean slept with a pillow wall—,”
“And Justin and I slept so far apart, you could’ve fit another person between us,” Hannah winces.
You send her an apologetic smile as Allie continues. “Yeah, no one was really getting loved up last night. But what we did get was a front row seat to Garrett threatening the ever-living shit out of Joe.”
Your mouth parts in shock.
“Oh, he was pissed,” Dionne lets out a breath at the memory. “I thought for sure the producers were gonna have to separate them or something.”
“Was it that bad?”
Hannah hesitates. “It wasn’t great. But maybe you should talk to Garrett about it.”
You nod thoughtfully, deciding not to push for more, and reach for your sunscreen. “Did he tell you guys about the recoupling?”
“Yes.” Allie groans, dramatically dropping her face into her hands. “I’m so fucked, dude.”
The conversation devolves into you all stressing about tonight and no one comments when Meg finishes up quickly and leaves the room.
“Favorite childhood movie?”
“...What?”
Garrett lifts his head slightly to look at you from where he’s sprawled out on one of the bean bags.
“What’s your favorite movie from when you were a kid?” You ask again, perched in a bean bag of your own.
He pushes himself up to be able to look at you from a better angle and quirks a brow at you. “Why do you wanna know?”
“I think it can tell you a lot about a person,” you sniff.
Garrett nods slowly. “What’s yours then?”
“No, you have to go first?”
“What? Why?”
“Because, if I go first, you’ll just copy my answer,” you tell him pointedly. “I’ll say mine after.”
Garrett rolls his eyes good-naturedly, but complies. He’s silent for several moments before, finally, he says, “Toy Story.”
You hum.
“What?”
“Nothing,” you smile. “It’s a good answer.”
“Yeah? You gonna tell me what it means?” He asks, rolling slightly on his bean bag to face you better.
“Nope.”
Garrett raises his brows in mild surprise, but by now he knows better than to argue with you on it. Instead he relaxes again, letting the Fiji sun warm his skin. “Fine. Are you gonna say yours now?”
“Shrek 2.”
“What?” Garrett chokes out a laugh.
“It’s a cinematic masterpiece, Garrett!” You exclaim. “And it’s one of the few times in the history of ever that a sequel was better than the original.”
“Wow,” Garrett looks deeply amused. “You’re really gonna say something like that on national television?”
“Yeah, because I’m right. America will agree with me, you’ll see.” You fold your arms over your chest proudly.
Like most since he entered the Villa, your morning had been quite Garrett-filled. But today especially, the two of you were almost inseparable—which was almost entirely Garrett’s doing when he first noticed Joe approaching you.
You’d spent the morning avoiding Joe like the plague. The few times he awkwardly approached you—hoping to pull you for a chat after everything that had happened at Movie Night—you shut him down firmly, telling him that you had absolutely nothing you wanted to say to him. And, of course, the fact that Garrett was standing less than a foot away leveling him with a pointed glare had also helped in getting Joe to leave you alone.
But now things with Garrett have also become a bit complicated. Something had changed between you last night, the secret crush you had on him since he entered the Villa now blossoming into something far more serious. And part of you felt like maybe he felt the same, with the way his gaze would linger, or when he’d sit a bit closer to you than necessary. But then the image of him and Hannah on their picnic date would pop into your head and you’d falter.
There was something about his relationship with Hannah that you couldn’t really read—and were too scared to ask about. And, while you would never be upset at either of them for exploring a connection, you didn’t want to get your hopes up if he was going to stand in front of the fire pit tonight and choose her.
With the announcement of the recoupling, you had realized that your options were looking pretty bleak. You hadn’t made a connection with any of the other guys and the fear of feeling heartbroken and humiliated for the second time in 24 hours had you forcing yourself to accept that Garrett was going to pick Hannah tonight. You decided that your best case scenario was to form a friendship couple with Tucker and hope that more bombshells would arrive before the next recoupling.
Still, when Garrett spent the whole day with you on the bean bags and looked at you like that, it was hard not to have a little hope.
The evening comes quicker than any of you are ready for and, all too soon, Ariana Madix is walking into the Villa with a professional smile, waving at you all as you stand by the fire pit.
“Hi, Islanders!”
You all give her a short form of greeting.
“I heard that last night, things got a bit… intense,” she gives you all a knowing look and clasps her hands together. “And a lot of you are in complicated places with your partners right now. But tonight, you’ll get the chance to open yourself up to new opportunities and explore different connections you may have overlooked or,” she looks between you all, “maybe it’ll show you that your current connection is worth continuing.”
Next to you, Allie shifts nervously. You try to catch her eye, but she’s too lost in her head to notice.
“Garrett,” Ariana turns to the brunet standing on his own. “This is your first chance to couple up in the Villa, how are you feeling?”
“Uh, I’m ready, I think.” Garrett scratches the back of his neck. “I know what I want, so I’m just hoping it goes the way I want it to.”
You spare a glance at Hannah and worry your bottom lip through your teeth.
Ariana smiles at him gently. “Well, hopefully you’ll leave this fire pit very happy tonight. However… Tonight’s recoupling has a bit of a twist.”
Her eyes sparkle with excitement as you and the other Islanders glance between yourselves.
“As you all learned last night, there’s a lot going on in this Villa that you don’t know about. Luckily for you, there is a group of people who have been able to see everything.” Ariana pauses in suspense. “...And tonight, instead of you choosing who you’ll couple up with, it’ll be up to them. America has been voting for which Islanders they want to see coupled up together and that’s who you’ll be leaving the fire pit with tonight.”
Soft sounds of surprise leave you all as suddenly any assurance any of you had for tonight is thrown out the window. You do your best not to drop to your knees and plead with America to not keep you coupled up with Joe.
Ariana claps her hands together, clearly pleased by the looks on all of your faces. “So, let’s get started, shall we?”
The recoupling feels like both the slowest and fastest moment of your life, and the longer you’re forced to stand there and not know your fate, the more you want it to be over. Ariana starts with Allie first, announcing that America chose to keep her coupled up with Sean. Allie almost looks genuinely relieved by this, holding Sean’s hand gratefully. Next, it’s Meg and Joe, which has you relieved because at least now you know for certain that whoever you end up with won’t be him.
Somewhat surprisingly, America chooses to couple Tucker and Dionne together. The two of them look at each other with a hesitant kind of surprise, but don’t seem to flat out reject the idea. When you catch their eye, you send both of them a congratulatory thumbs up. Dionne gives you a knowing look and mouths “Get ready, babe”.
Only five Islanders are standing single by the fire pit—you, Hannah, Garrett, Justin, and Paul. You look between Justin and Paul, trying to figure out which one of them America had paired you up with. You weren’t exactly excited about either option.
“And the last two couples America has voted for are…” Ariana lets a poignant pause hang over you all for several seconds.
“Justin and Hannah and Garrett and Y/N!”
Your eyes widen in surprise as the other Islanders applaud and you miss the smile on Garrett’s face as he comes over to you, wrapping you in a hug.
“Hey,” he greets you gently.
“H-Hey.” You have to clear your throat to get the word out, wrapping your own arms around him hesitantly.
Before either of you can say anything else, Ariana turns her attention to Paul.
“Paul, as you were the only boy to not receive enough votes to couple up with any of the girls, you are now single and at risk of being dumped from the Island.”
She says a few more things to you all—probably some advice and good luck for your couples—but you can’t really focus on it as you keep stealing glances at Garrett. Somewhere in all of this, he’s grabbed your hand, his fingers warm wrapped around yours. You feel nervous. And you try to tell yourself not to be, because it’s just Garrett, but something about being in an actual couple with him feels much higher stakes than the friendship you’ve been forming over the past few days.
It certainly doesn’t help that you became a couple through a fan vote, instead of him actually choosing you. What if he wasn’t planning on choosing you? What if he only thinks of you as a friend and the only reason he likes hanging out with you is because he doesn’t want to explore a connection? What if—?
“Hey,” Garrett interrupts your spiraling thoughts. “You wanna go talk somewhere?”
You force yourself to nod. “Sure…”
You let Garrett lead you to the Speakeasy—your hand still wrapped in his—and every step makes your body feel more and more like a live wire. You feel genuinely sick when you enter the Speakeasy, sitting down as Garrett closes the door behind you both.
“I’m—,”
“It’s okay if you just want to be friends.” You blurt out.
“—Really—What?” Garrett’s entire face scrunches in confusion, his curls bouncing slightly as he cocks his head.
You shrug timidly, looking down at your fingers. “I know that you didn’t really get to choose this, so it’s okay if you’re not, like, into it or just want to be friends…”
When he doesn’t speak for several seconds, you look up to see that he’s staring at you in disbelief.
“You actually think I don’t want you?” Garrett asks incredulously. “I—Just—Okay.” He rubs his eyes with his thumb and middle finger before returning his gaze to you. “Listen, I feel like you should know that I didn’t watch the show before coming in here.”
“...Okay?”
“No, I—Fuck, that didn’t make any sense, sorry—,” He winces, flexing his fingers, suddenly nervous. “What I mean is that I didn’t know who you were before Hannah brought me back to the Villa. Honestly, the only thing they really showed me was Hannah’s introduction video and asked if I’d want to go on a date with her—which, Hannah’s a great girl and everything—But, what I’m trying to say is that it would have been you. If I knew you were here, I would’ve wanted to go on that date with you.”
You blink as you process his words. “Oh.”
“Yeah, ‘oh’. And what I was going to say when we got in here was that I was happy that America coupled us up together because I was planning on picking you tonight anyway. Unless… I mean, unless you just want to be friends. Which is fine—,”
“No!” You interrupt. “I don’t want to be friends—Or I do, I’m not saying you’re a bad friend. You’re a great friend! And I really like being your friend! I just—I mean, we could—,” Your face feels like it’s on fire and it certainly doesn’t help that your rambling has caused an amused smile to grow on Garrett’s. You close your mouth and take a breath. “I’m happy we’re in a couple too.”
“Well, that’s good. Because otherwise that would make what I’m about to do really awkward.”
His eyes fall to your lips and, though it’s obvious what he’s thinking, he still leans in slowly enough for you to shut him down if you want to. You don’t—in fact, you’re a bit too eager, borderline lunging at him with enough force that it knocks you both over onto the cushions as your lips connect. You feel him chuckle against your mouth, though he quickly gets more distracted at the feeling of your hands in his hair and your body against his.
One of his hands travels up and down your back, kneading and grasping at any part of you he can reach, while his other arm wraps around your shoulder blades and pulls you in closer. His mouth moves against yours with a hunger that seems like it’s growing more and more insatiable with every passing second. His hand can’t decide where it wants to be, the one that’s not holding you to him moving from your back, to your ass, to the thighs you have thrown over his hips, to cupping your cheek, tracing the skin with soothing motions of his thumb.
When the need for air—and the very real possibility that, if the two of you continue, you may actually have sex with this man in the Speakeasy—becomes too much to ignore, you pull away. His chest is heaving slightly and his lips are shimmering with saliva and your lip gloss. You’re sure yours don’t look much better because Garrett’s thumb is gently rubbing smudged lip liner from your chin.
He smiles up at you, letting his hand move from your chin to gently grasping your jaw. “You’re an idiot.”
Your mouth drops open in protest. “I thought you were just being nice!”
“And I thought I told you I’m not nice. But it’s okay, I know I’m a better active listener than you—Hey!” Garrett cuts himself off with a laugh when you whack him with a pillow.
“You better not snore.”
“Just because we haven’t shared a bed before, doesn’t mean we haven’t been sleeping in the same room. You’d know if I snore by now.”
Your response to Garrett’s annoyingly strong argument is to stick your tongue out at him as you fluff your pillows to your liking. He takes it in stride, lifting up the corner of the blanket to get into bed and under the covers with you.
“What about you? Got any weird sleep things I should know about?”
You freeze, looking down bashfully. “I… I have–sometimes–been known to sleep talk…”
“Mm.” Garrett’s biting back a smile when you look back up.
“Hey,” you point at him accusingly. “You said you like listening to me talk—,”
“I do.”
“—So really you should be happy—,”
“I am.”
“—And not… I don’t like arguing with you if you’re just gonna agree with me the whole time.”
Garrett raises his brows teasingly, stretching an arm behind his head as he settles on the pillows. “We’re arguing right now?”
You narrow your eyes at him before flipping away from him and bringing the blanket up to your shoulders. “I’m going to bed.”
“Hey, wait,” Garrett laughs, a strong arm wrapping around your middle and pulling your back to his chest. “‘M sorry. Keep yellin’ at me, baby, I’ll be a better arguer.”
You’re glad you’re facing away from him because the pet name, paired with his gravely night voice, is doing things to you that you are stubbornly trying to ignore. “I wasn’t yelling at you, I was talking with conviction.”
“You’re right—I mean… That’s just a word lawyers made up to get away with yelling.” Garrett corrects himself.
His words cause you to snort out a laugh and he knows that he’s won, using the arm around you to help coax you to turn over and face him again. When you do so, he looks down at you, eyes softening as he takes in the features of your face and his fingers trace soft patterns on your bare shoulder.
“You look cute in my bed,” he murmurs.
You blink up at him with the same amount of softness, biting back a smile as you shake your head. “Actually, it’s my bed.” You reach between the two of you where Snowy had gotten wedged between the pillows, pulling her out and presenting her to Garrett proudly. “We were here first.”
Garrett takes the stuffed white tiger from you carefully, her body flopping limply in his grip due to the amount her stuffing had deflated over time. He lifts the stuffed animal to his ear before nodding solemnly.
“She said she wants us to cuddle tonight.”
You bark out a laugh. “Snowy did not say that.”
“Snowy most certainly did.” He turns to pretend to listen to her again, before turning both of their heads back to look at you. “She thinks you should be the little spoon.”
With the hand he has holding her head, he makes Snowy nod in agreement.
You’re still laughing as you take your stuffed animal back from him. “You’re telling me Garrett Graham isn’t a little spoon guy?”
“He’s multifaceted. But I would hate to disrespect Snowy in her own bed, so I think we should accommodate her wishes.” Garrett shuffles down so that he’s lying more comfortably flat, pulling the blanket up so that it’s better covering you both.
“You’re ridiculous,” you say, but you’re grinning and scooting closer into Garrett’s warm chest as he presses a sweet kiss to the top of your head.
The rest of the Islanders settle in, everyone calling out short ‘goodnight’s as the large lights of the bedroom turn off. You close your eyes and, for the first time since you got here, go to sleep genuinely excited for what this new connection will bring.
please don't copy, repost, or feed my work into ai, thanks!
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