#willard's wife

[movieassholes]

Well, fuck all y'all, I'm goin' home! Y'know, I watched my wife work all day, getting 30 bags together for you ungrateful sunsobitches, and all I can hear is criticize, criticize, criticize! From now on, don't ask me or mine for nuthin!

Willard - Django Unchained (2012)

[janeyseymour]

All To Myself

requested by @schemmentisbaby

Summary: Your little girl is getting ready to go to Abbott- not that your wife's coworkers know.

WC: ~3.6k

Melissa Schemmenti, second grade teacher at Abbott Elementary, your wife, and mother to your beautiful little girl: Grace Marie. Melissa Schemmenti, a woman who rarely talks about herself, so all that her coworkers know about her is that she’s married- and even then, she wishes they didn’t know that. It’s not that she has anything to hide or like she’s ashamed of you, but after growing up the way that she did, she’s learned that keeping her mouth shut about personal information is probably for the best. The fact that people know she’s a Schemmenti holds enough weight as it is.

Your wife has been able to keep it quiet that she has a little girl due to the fact that while she is present on Facebook, and so are you, there are very few people that she has on there. The only people that she’s so graciously allowed to friend her on that social media app are you, her family (yes, Kristen Marie included), and one Mrs. Barbara Howard. Those that are present on your social media aren’t aware of the weight that your last name now holds, having grown up just outside of Philly in the suburbs. So when you post images or updates on how your life is going, it doesn’t much matter, and Melissa doesn’t mind.

The second grade teacher has been relatively successful at keeping the personal and professional lives from mixing. That is going to change though, because Gracie is getting ready to head into kindergarten at none other than Willard R. Abbott Elementary School.

“Hun,” you sigh to your wife quietly as the two of you begin to grasp the fact that Grace is going to be attending your wife’s workplace.

“I just didn’t think it was going to be happening so soon,” Melissa mumbles. “I mean, it’s like she was born yesterday, and now she’s getting ready to enter kindergarten.”

“You’re telling me,” you chuckle. “I feel like we were hearing her heartbeat for the first time, and now we’re getting ready to send our baby to school.”

“Jesus, we’re gettin’ old.”

As it turns out, Grace is more than excited to be heading to school- she’s so excited to see the place where her mother works, and she can’t wait to be a big kid. And luck just so has it that your daughter is placed in her Aunt Barbie’s class.

“I get to be with Aunt Barbie all day?!” Grace squeals out with excitement when you tell her who her kindergarten teacher is.

You can’t help but chuckle at how precious she is. “You do, but at school she’s Mrs. Howard, yeah?”

Your little girl nods her head with enthusiasm. “When do I get to go?”

“School starts in two weeks, but Mommy goes in next week,” Melissa tells your little girl at the dinner table. “And on that Wednesday, they have a special night for kindergarteners to meet their teachers and get familiar with the school.”

“I can’t wait for school!”

“Oh, but I can,” your wife grumbles so that only you can hear her.

The day before Melissa goes back to Abbott for professional development days, she’s a bit more moody than usual. Because of this, your little girl spends most of the day with you. The redhead is stressed beyond belief trying to ensure that she has everything packed into her car to take to the school for the new year. She’s focusing on meal prepping so she can just grab things and go. Her outfit for whatever reason is stressing her out more than it usually would.

“Honey,” you mumble as she stands in your closet staring at all of her shirts. You wrap your arms around her waist and set your chin on her shoulder before kissing her neck gently. She hums as she leans into your affections.

“What has you so worked up tonight?” you prod gently. “Usually you don’t care what you wear to work.”

“I just… these are the last few days where my coworkers will see me as just Melissa, not Grace’s mother,” she admits. “Reminds me I’m gettin’ older.”

“We are getting older,” you remind her. “But that just means that we’re one step closer to retirement, to having a beautiful daughter to take care of us, more years of love under our belt.”

Your wife sighs softly and cranes her neck to look at you. “How do you always know what to say to help calm me down?”

“We’ve been married for years,” you chuckle. “Practice.”

The next morning, Grace cannot for the life of her understand why she doesn’t get to go with Melissa to her new school. She’s gotten herself dressed and ready, adorned with the backpack that is just about the size of her, and her new sparkly shoes.

“Mi amore,” your wife sighs as she kneels down to pull your daughter into a hug. “Mommy has to go do boring things at the school. Trust me when I tell you, you would rather stay with Momma and play at home for these last few days.”

“But I want you!” your little girl pouts. “I want Aunt Barbie!”

“And you’ll get me tonight,” Melissa tries to placate. “And I will talk to Aunt Barbie and see if she can come over today after work to play for a little bit, how does that sound?”

That seems to satisfy your daughter who comes bouncing over to you. She curls into your arms as your wife makes her way out the door.

At work, the redhead is happy to see her work wife, but she isn’t necessarily thrilled to be back at work for the school year.

“I saw Gracie’s name on my list for this year,” Barbara whispers to her friend when she’s certain no one else can hear.

“She’s real excited to have you as her kindergarten teacher,” Melissa chuckles softly. “She’s asking for you already. I told her I would see if you could come over after work today.”

“She’ll be sick of me by the end of this year,” the kindergarten teacher laughs.

Green eyes are rolled. “I doubt that. I’m fairly certain my kid loves you more than she loves me or Y/N.”

“You know your little girl has the most love for her mothers,” Barb smirks. “And then of course for Aunt Barbie. I’ll be there.”

“And I’m going to need every hand on deck for kindergarten orientation on Wednesday,” Ava announces. “This is the biggest class to come through Abbott since the 90s.”

“No can do,” Melissa states in front of everyone. “Have business I need to take care of, and it ain’t like you’re payin’ me.” She shoots her boss a look that dares her to challenge.

The principal quirks her lips to the side before rolling her eyes and sighing loudly. “Every hand on deck except for Red Hot.”

After the workday is done, the kindergarten and second grade teachers make their way back to your house. You and your little girl are sitting in the living room reading a book when you hear the front door open and close. All thoughts of the game are abandoned when Gracie jumps to her feet and goes to the door as fast as her little legs will take her. She launches herself at Melissa, who catches her with ease. Then she’s throwing herself at Barbara, who has just barely kneeled down to embrace her.

“How’s my baby girl?” Barbara asks as she kisses your daughter’s head.

Your little girl soaks up the attention. “Good! I want to go to school though.”

“Well, that comes next week, but I’m sure Mommy’s told you about how you’ll get to come see my classroom in a few days.” When Grace nods with excitement, Barbara continues. “And I know at home I’m Aunt Barbie, but at school I have to be Mrs. Howard. Think you can remember that for me, baby?”

“Pinky swears,” your daughter holds out her pinky with a grin.

“That’s my girl,” the kindergarten teacher smiles as she links pinkies with your little girl. “Now, what are we going to do today?”

Come Wednesday, after a long day of professional development in the morning and prepping for open house on Thursday, Melissa comes home to you and your excitable daughter.

“Mommy!” Grace goes running over to the front door, abandoning her station to help you prepare dinner.

“Mi amore,” your wife sighs happily as she lifts your daughter to her hip. “My beautiful girl.”

Grace giggles incessantly as the teacher pecks her cheeks continuously. Then your wife is making her way over to you.

“My gorgeous wife,” she whispers as she kisses you softly. “You’re the best.”

“I’m making your favorite,” you tell her quietly as you lean in to kiss her again.

Grace makes a face at your affections. “Ew, moms. Stop kissin’!”

The two of you roll your eyes in a playful manner. “You know I just love your momma so much,” Melissa laughs that low laugh that you find irresistible. She kisses you again.

“Are you ready to go see Aunt Barbie and your new school?” the redhead asks gently as she sets your daughter back down on the chair you have pulled up to the counter.

“Mrs. Howard,” Grace corrects with a toothy smile as she picks up the spoon to begin mixing the salad again.

Melissa rolls her eyes and pokes your daughter in the belly. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

After dinner, your family makes their way down to Abbott. Grace clings to your hand the entire time. At the thought of going to a new school, she was excited. But now that the time is upon her, she’s nervous.

“It’ll all be okay, Gracie girl,” Melissa promises. “You know Mommy wouldn’t work here or let you go here if it wasn’t a good place to be.”

That seems to settle your daughter’s nerves just slightly, but she still remains close to you.

You and Grace walk in and head right to the little check in, knowing immediately where to go. Barbara just smiles and checks off your daughter’s name before greeting your wife who is trailing a few paces behind.

“Melissa!” you hear the boisterous voice of the principal of the school. “You said you wasn’t coming!”

Your wife just rolls her eyes and shrugs. “What can I say?”

The incoming class of kindergarteners are ushered into the gym for a quick presentation of teachers that they might come across throughout the school year. Of course, Barbara is up on the stage with all of the kindergarten teachers, but so is your wife and the rest of her work crew, as well as some other staff members that she rarely mentions.

Once that’s over with, they begin to move the children down to the classrooms that they’ll be spending most of their time in for the year. Grace takes your hand gently and guides you towards the correct line.

Abbott is a special school, you can see that just by walking through the halls. It’s filled with artwork from students, there are several plaques with various award titles on them, the teachers who are helping to guide students around are warm. Aside from the odd lingering smell, you can understand why Melissa works here and has worked here for years. 

Your wife lingers in the room under the guise of just helping out her work wife- it makes sense to the rest of the staff that she would go with Barbara. Grace finds her desk with ease, knowing all of the letters in her name. She squeals with happiness when she sees the few little goodies that Mrs. Howard left on the students’ desks.

“Momma,” your little girl tugs on your shirt. “Sit with me?”

You oblige her request with a smile, settling in her chair before pulling her on top of you. Grace brightens and gives your wife a thumbs up before beginning to color the princess page Barbara had placed there. You can’t help but press a soft kiss to your girl’s temple before looking up at your wife with a smile. She’s absolutely precious. Melissa tries to hide the fact that she was sneaking a picture of the two of you, but it’s no use. Her cheeks tint just slightly red before shrugging her shoulders with a bashful smile.

The rest of your daughter’s class settles in and is allowed to color for a few moments while Barbara and Melissa chat with parents- no doubt answering questions that will surely be answered within the next few minutes.

Your wife’s boss makes her way into the classroom, and she eyes the redhead warily before teasing her. “I shoulda known you’d find your way into Barb’s classroom.”

“Well, she is-”

“I don’ care,” Ava states. She turns to scan the room, and her eyes immediately land on you. She winks.

You have to fight to roll your eyes. It’s funny that she chose you to focus in on, but it will be even funnier when she realizes that she just hit on her shadiest teacher’s wife.

Before the principal can say anything too out of line, Barbara claps her hands together and begins her spiel about herself as a teacher, the classroom that the students will be in, and the school itself.

Grace seems more than content to sit in your lap and color quietly while Melissa nods along to the things that her work wife is saying. She knows it all already, but it’s nice hearing what will be expected of your little girl while she’s in Barb’s classroom.

“And now, while the parents are filling out the paperwork necessary for the beginning of the school year, I figured I might take the students on a walking tour of the areas in the school that they’ll be in,” the kindergarten teacher explains with a clap of her hands. “So, we’re going to practice lining up and walking in the hallways like big kindergarteners.”

She manages to line up the entire class quietly before walking them out the door with Melissa. You sigh and begin to quietly fill out the paperwork for your little girl. It’s a while before you hear footsteps come back into the room, just as you’re getting ready to write down Melissa’s name under the second guardian spot. When you look up, you expect to see Barbara, your wife, and the students in tow. Instead, it’s Ava again, and she’s looking directly at you- you can practically feel her eyes on you.

“Does anybody have any questions about Abbott?” the principal asks.

A few hands go up, but she blatantly ignores them. She points to you. “What about you, angel face?”

Your brow goes up. “I think I’m all good, but thank you.”

“Surely you can’t know everything there is to know about this school,” Ava frowns. “You have to have at least one question.”

“Not that I can think of,” you tell her. If you do think of a question, you doubt she’ll know the answer to it anyway.

“Is that little girl of yours your first one to go through Abbott?”

You nod. “But I know all about this school.”

“Oh?” Ava smirks. “You did your research?”

Instead of telling her that your wife is Melissa, you just nod. Sure, you had done your research and asked your wife about the building, but you know the ins and outs of this school- the things that go on behind the scenes. 

You think that’s the end of the conversation and start to write “Mrs.”, but she makes her way further into the room, and she stands over you sitting at a student desk.

“Where’s the wife?” Ava asks you as she leans against the desk. She drapes a gentle hand over your wrist. “Because I know someone as fine as you has one.”

You look up to her with a smirk before beginning to write down Melissa’s name.

Almost comically, the principal gasps and her hands fly to her mouth. She stands straight up. “You ain’t telling me Melissa is your wife, are you?!”

With impeccable timing, Melissa walks back into the classroom with Barbara and the kindergarteners. 

“I am,” is all your wife states as she folds her arms over her chest and stares down her boss. “Why? You got something to-”

“Bye, y’all,” Ava runs out of the classroom as quickly as she had come in.

Barbara just looks to you with the silent question of if the principal was flirting with you, and you nod subtly.

Your wife sees red for a split second before she makes her way over to you with your daughter and wraps her arm around the top of your shoulders.

“Idiot,” Melissa grumbles as she plants a kiss to the top of your head. “Flirting with my wife like that.”

You reach up a hand and lay yours gently over hers. “She didn’t know because you didn’t tell her.”

“‘Cause she has no business knowin’ about my personal life,” your wife mutters.

“She will now,” you remind her. “Grace is goin’ here now, and you know that Ava’s gonna open her mouth about it the first chance she gets.”

“Which will be once everyone is out of the school, and we somehow get corralled into helping break everything,” Melissa rolls her eyes.

It’s a bit of time before Ava makes the announcement that all families should head out of the building to allow the teachers to get home for the night. But when you think that Melissa is going to try to book it out of there as quickly as possible, she begins to help her work wife straighten up her classroom.

You know that the two of them are quite close, but it is something else to see them working together in silence. It’s like how you and Melissa work- in sync, with ease, naturally.

And then the rest of the group begins to come in, asking questions before they even fully enter the room to see you and your little girl sitting quietly on the carpet reading a book together. Okay, you’re reading, but Grace is touching each word as you read.

You pause your reading as the boisterous group comes in. Their eyes immediately go to you, and they halt their questioning.

“I’m sorry,” a shorter woman, who you can only assume is Janine, speaks quietly. “I didn’t realize you still had a student in the room.”

“They’re fine,” Melissa cuts in before anyone else can say anything. “They’re with me.”

Gregory furrows his brow. “Why would they-”

“Melissa Schemmenti, when the hell was you goin’ to tell us you have a daughter that was going to come to Abbott?!” the principal yells as she struts in. “And that your wife was fine as-” She cuts herself off at the challenging look green eyes give her.

“They’re with me because that’s my wife and my daughter,” the redhead points to the two of you. “Gracie, come say hi to Mommy’s friends.”

Your little girl jumps out of your lap and runs over to your wife, who lifts her onto her hip with ease. “I’m Gracie, and I’m five!” she holds out an entire hand for emphasis. Her smile is enough to melt their hearts.

“Oh, Mel Mel, she’s so cute,” Jacob grins as he high fives your daughter.

“Mi amore,” Melissa jerks her head for you to come over.

“Y/N,” you smile that charming smile of yours as you wrap an arm around the Melissa. “Mrs. Schemmenti, if you will.”

“How the hell didn’t we know about this now?” Mr. Johnson wrinkles his nose. “That’s a load of bull… trash.”

Emerald eyes are rolled. “Because the boss don’t look at the rosters to know who’s comin’ in.”

“I did!”

“Did you?” Janine narrows her eyes as she looks to the principal. 

Ava looks offended. “So what if I did or did not? Overseeing an entire school is hard! It ain’t my fault Melissa never told us she had a daughter!”

“You didn’t tell them about me?” Grace frowns, and she looks a bit wounded by that knowledge.

“Mommy just wanted you all to herself,” your wife promises as she dots a few kisses along your daughter’s hairline.

That seems to placate your daughter, who snuggles right back up to the redhead before yawning. “Aunt Barbie is my teacher.”

“She is,” you chuckle as you smooth down a few of her wild locks. “But at school she’s Mrs. Howard, remember?”

“Mrs. Howard is my teacher,” your little girl yawns out.

“I think it’s about time we head home,” Melissa chuckles softly. She looks to you. “Are you about ready t’head out?”

You nod and grab your purse from where Grace will be sitting next Monday. “Well, it was really nice to finally meet you all,” you chuckle out. “I know she’s in good hands here at Abbott.”

The group seems to have more questions for the redhead that is quickly escorting you out, but she ignores them and ushers you out.

Just as you’re leaving, Ava shouts down the hallway, “Girl, don’t think we ain’t talkin’ ‘bout how youse are milfs tomorrow!”

There’s a loud chorus of “Ava!” that can be heard right after. You have to hide the smile. You’re already well aware that your wife is hot.

“Momma?” Grace looks to you with curious eyes.

“Yeah baby?” you ask.

“What’s a milf?”

“Ava is dead tomorrow,” your wife grumbles.

“You love your boss, and your coworkers,” you remind her.

Melissa sighs heavily. “They’re freakin’ lucky.”

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead

[writermani4c]

Wise Man - Willard Russel x Reader

@pizgif

Summary: He waited for her for a long time, but she was much better than his fantasies. A wise man knows when he has found his wife.

Warnings: English is not my first language. Not the second or third, I'm sorry. I'm just a Brazilian woman with Bill Skarsgard fever who likes to write to relieve tension. I hope you like it and that the BIG mistakes don't bother you while reading. With love, me.

It's romantic, kind of fluffy (if you like men who are madly in love) and with a slight spice of obscenity. Carefully follow along.

She smelled like lilies when she walked into the cereal aisle.

Every man prepares for that moment. The moment when your life will be turned upside down, all because of a peculiar smell that makes you turn your neck without any concern other than finding its source, then you come face to face with a woman. Your girlfriend, your wife, the mother of your children, the warm hand on your shoulder after a dog day, the smell of lilies on the pillow on the other side of the bed, the soft voice that will say “honey, is that you?” when you get home or “why didn’t you wake me up earlier?” in the morning.

Willard was waiting for her. Even though he didn't like to admit it out loud, he hoped there was someone like that in that strange, inhospitable hole in the world. And when she turned the corner, holding a bag of flour and some eggs, smelling of lilies, with dirt-stained fingernails and a yellow dress that had seen better springs, he knew that this would be his wife.

She looked up only subtly, acknowledging his presence because he was tall enough to block the view of some items on the small shelf, but not tall enough to notice that he was losing his breath at her handsome face.

Beautiful eyes.

Her eyes burned into a particular corner of his brain, coming into his dreams like two headlights. Willard never liked sleeping, seeing it as necessary as eating and pissing, but much more boring. He slept and felt paranoid about being so vulnerable. But when he started dreaming about her eyes, sleep became a pleasant escape.

Small town, people talk. They said that her father had left early, so it was just the mother and daughter in a house falling apart. The mother was sick and the daughter took care of keeping them alive and fed, took care of the family garden and sold flowers to the local flower shop, also repaired worn-out clothes and cleaned some houses. Willard brought shirts and she took them like treasures, pressing them to her chest before thanking him for thinking of her for the service. She didn't know that he himself cut some holes in his shirts and stopped buying some items for the house to have an excuse to see her. It was worth it when your shirts came back sewn and smelling of fresh earth, tulips and daisies.

Someone needed to take care of her. Someone needed to keep her warm at night and scare away the strangers who followed in her footsteps when she make your purchases.

Most of them started to cower when she started waving at Willard when she saw him on the street. He almost chickened out himself, thinking about what chance she had of seeing him with some affection, and took a while to return the wave, which gave her the confidence to do so more often.

'Good morning, Mr. Russel' and ‘Good afternoon, Mr. Russel’, always with a sweet voice and a small smile at the corner of his mouth, that corner that made him want to lean over her, hold her face and run his index finger across her lips, because they were beautiful, they looked soft and smooth. He told her to cut the formalities, but she always called him that, changing to her first name only when he went to her house with clothes to mend.

─ You have a lot of clothes to sew." She smiled and Willard thought she might know.

She was beautiful in a disconcerting way. She had that face that made the day seem less depressing, with a smart smile and sparkling eyes, and that body that made him wish ─ and then feel even slightly guilty for letting his thoughts go so far ─ that he could travel with his mouth, kissing her curves. as he breathed in the scent she must have had beneath her clothes, that skin as smooth as silk at his mercy. She wasn't stupid, though.

─ It's as if termites do their damage whenever I take my eyes off them. Sorry for bringing you so much trouble.

─ No, you don't need to apologize for that. But you spend a lot of money on me.

─ It's money well spent.

─ I… ─ She breathed in, batting her eyelashes as a gentle rebuke to whatever was in her brain. Without meaning to, Willard took a step forward. Don't beat yourself up, my blossom, that's what she wanted to say, but she stopped herself from taking that step inside the screened-in porch of her house. ─ You…

─ Willard.

─ Willard. ─ He waved with a resigned smile. ─ I don't want to be rude.

─ Please be. Be rude all you want, I won't care.

─ Do you want to stay for dinner?

His heart became a nearly dead muscle beneath her words, only to start beating full force again, skipping beats like a runner in a marathon. He couldn't believe it. A huge smile spread across his face. It would be the first time she invited him in. This gave him hope. He gave him a duty.

─ I want it.

Once inside her personal space, the place where she lived, he felt enveloped to the core, because the entire house smelled like her. Soft earth and flowers.

Her couch was warmer and more comfortable. The table at home, although small, was warmer and the chairs were comfortable. The smell of his food made him feel a dormant, wild hunger, something that was more inside his head than his stomach, roaring and digging with sharp nails into his flesh. He went to the bathroom, with the window facing the backyard. A small window, but one he could sneak through, and he left it open from the inside.

That night, he had dinner with his future wife and her mother, a lady so laughing and talkative that she filled him with questions full of ulterior motives.

If he was married, which he gladly answered no, looking at the flush-cheeked girl at the other end of the table. If he intended to get married, he said yes. What he worked with, whether he drank, whether he was baptized, whether he was up to date with his church obligations. Willard maintained a helpful smile because he knew she heard all his answers and, somewhere, evaluated everything he said.

Later, when they said goodbye, she walked him to the door.

─ Thank you for staying. We don't receive many visitors.

─ Thank you for dinner. No one has cooked for me for a long time.

─ You can come when you want to be questioned over a plate of food.

Under the yellow light of the screen porch, the world seemed very small and very simple. There was nothing but him and that woman. Nothing but the way she looked at him, her face lifted to meet his eyes, and the way she breathed, how she filled her lungs all at once and emptied them more slowly. Her cheeks were warmer in the yellow light, the glow in her eyes was like the gravitational force making him yield to her, and the flutter of those eyelashes stirred Willard's heart once again.

He waited for her, but he couldn't believe that reality could be so good.

His right hand touched hers, gentle but lewd, and he leaned in, consuming the air between them, to kiss her left cheek.

He didn't apologize or look back before walking through the balcony door, hearing the thud as it closed behind him. He walked through the garden and disappeared into the darkness, but he didn't go away. He watched her touch her cheek with her fingertips and take a deep breath, then a smile spread across her face.

Every night for two months, he climbed in through that bathroom window in the middle of the night and walked silently around the house. He touched the notes she signed by hand, her grocery list or some reminder on the refrigerator door, ran his fingers through the clothes on the line at the back of the house and went through her things. He defiled her space because he felt a certain comfort in it, in walking through the house and pushing open her bedroom door, watching her sleep peacefully in the narrow bed. She looked peaceful and carefree, as she should be. She looked fragile, small (and that had nothing to do with her height) and defenseless against all the dangers of that land, a little sparrow that he wanted to hold in his hands and keep, because flying around would get him into trouble.

Every time he was invited to dinner, which started to happen more and more frequently, he allowed himself to leave a kiss as a farewell.

A kiss on the cheek, on the back of her hands, on her knuckles, on her forehead. It was like a small dose from a bottle that he hoped he could take a bigger swig of. Holding her face and bringing his lips to her temple, breathing in the scent of her hair as he enjoyed the feeling of his own lips on the skin of the one who stole his heart, because he couldn't take her mouth and, by the good Lord, no part underneath that yellow button-down dress.

One night, when he turned his back, she followed him outside.

─ Willard! ─ The urgency made him stop in place, but it took him a while to turn on his heels, finding her outside with him, away from the yellow lights.

Outside, the world was different.

The darkness of the night was infested with dangers and evil men. The world smelled not just of soft earth and flowers, but also of gunpowder and blood, ambition, power and unbridled pleasure, suffering and bitterness, things that didn't feel like her but were familiar to him. She came after Willard and he waited for her because she was too small to be alone. She didn't need to be alone. Never again.

─ What was it?

─ I don't know.

─ Yes, you know. ─ She needed to know, because the wait wasn't just exciting. It was heartbreaking too. Each night watching her from afar, unable to run his nose along the delicate curve of her neck or cover her when she moved in her sleep and made the blanket slide, slipping away to reveal a pair of breasts covered only by a soft nightgown. The things he did to himself imagining having those breasts in his mouth... ─ It's dark out here. Whatever you say will remain in the dark.

─ What if it’s bad?

─ Nothing good is said in the dark, my dear, that's why we only talked alone on your balcony.

She nodded.

She was barefoot. Most of the time, she stayed barefoot inside the house, limiting herself to wearing lace-up boots over socks when she needed to go into town.

─ I want to be your darling.

─ You are. Always has been, ever since I laid eyes on you.

─ No, not like that. I want to be more than I am now. ─ She took a deep breath. ─ I want you to come and have dinner here every day and not have to pay for me to fix your clothes, because it gives me great pleasure to do so. I don't want you to have to leave after you kiss me.

─ Be my wife then, darling.

That time, she was the one who held his hand. Her fingers were smaller than his, knotted from working with the earth and sewing threads, and that only made her more perfect. She intertwined her fingers with his and leaned forward on the tips of her toes, seeking him with that warm, inviting mouth, her breathing quickened beneath her dress.

Willard married her twice.

The second time was in the church where she was baptized, with God's blessing. He gave her a white dress and a veil, only to move it away from her face and kiss her when the priest gave him permission. Few people went to the ceremony and neither of them cared, they didn't have a party, they just went home and he carried her to bed.

The first time, however, was in the dark, outside the house. And it smelled like soft earth and lilies.

Willard married his wife the moment he lay on top of her, hearing her soft giggle as she hugged his waist with her legs, squeezing her thighs around him as the tip of his cock entered the folds of that tight, wet-as-hell pussy. heaven should be. He wanted to give her a good bed, but they didn't need that while they were numb with passion, their lips locked in a kiss full of voluptuousness and promises.

You'll never be alone again, he promised as he ran his fingers over her face, removing the strands of hair stuck to her sweaty skin, hitting that pussy.

You'll never be afraid, he gasped, because she was holding him tight and moaning against his neck, trying to contain herself. I didn't want her to have to hold back those sly, tearful, sweet sounds, but I didn't want her mother to suspect that he was between her only daughter's legs, so she whispered, between smiles, so that she would make less noise, and she would also smile, but he couldn't contain himself.

You'll never have to worry about anything in the world, he slid his hand between their bodies, while he felt his dick invading her, and he slid his finger over her folds, on that pulsing beam. He rubbed it just for pleasure and indulgence, watching her squirm, biting her right hand to keep still, as beautiful and ethereal as angels must be. Then he brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting her on his tongue.

Every day and every night, my blossom, I will be the devil that guards you, her taste was like the best of drinks and the best of drugs. An addiction he would maintain with devotion.

She ran her fingers through his hair, tugging as her walls clenched so tight it was unbearable. He let her cum, kissing her neck and collarbone lovingly, running his hands over her soft breasts. Every day and every night, you will be loved like a goddess and a slut, my blossom, because you are mine.

[cameronspecial]

Bad Friend

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Swearing, Mentions of Sex and Making A Bet On A Date On Getting A Date With A Girl.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 10.8K

Summary: After Rafe makes a bet with Topper, it leaves him in need of Y/N's help. Y/N doesn't believe in love, but through getting to know Rafe while helping him, she may start to rethink her thoughts about the feeling.

Masterlist

“I dare you to get Y/N to date you,” Topper challenges, taking a sip from his drink. Rafe’s eyes stare at the pair of girls stumbling over each other, laughing as they trip on the sand. They are obviously very drunk. Rafe doesn’t think he has ever seen her smile. The only person who could break Y/N’s enigmatic and emotionless composure is the girl currently being held up by her, Amanda. Rafe isn’t one to back down from a dare, but he also doesn’t chase after a lost cause. Love isn’t something that Y/N has ever sought after. It isn’t a secret to anyone on the island. She’s the product of an affair; her Kook father cheated on his wife with her Mainlander mother. She grew up listening to her mother’s stories about how charismatic boys always leave behind brokenhearted girls. About how even though Willard Graham genuinely did love Cordelia Y/L/N, the money his wife, who was back in the Outer Banks, would bring was more important than the little girl he bore with Cordelia. This didn’t stop Cordelia from moving to the Outer Banks and Willard didn’t object, he wanted to be in his daughter’s life. But that truth imprinted itself on Y/N. She saw how the possibility of love tore her mother apart and she vowed to never let herself go through the same thing. In fact, she abandoned all notions of emotions in general. Feelings made her vulnerable and vulnerability got her hurt. 

Rafe doesn’t need to get tangled up in that mess. He pulls away from the sight of the best friends and shakes his head at Topper. “Nah, I don’t feel like dealing with her. She may be all bark and no bite, but I don’t want to deal with that yapping dog,” he refutes. Kelce chuckles, “Come on, you scared you won't be able to win her over. Or better yet, maybe you’re scared of her.” The rest of the senior boys laugh, teasing Rafe about being frightened by the junior. “Dude, I could get any girl I want. But if I’m going to be going after someone, I might as well go for someone that’s actually hot. Y/N looks like she fucks about as good as a sack of potatoes,” Rafe disagrees. 

Topper gives into Rafe’s demands for a different target, “Fine. How about Amanda? We’ve all heard the rumours about her in bed, but she will be hard to get with guard dog Y/N by her side. So I bet you can’t get Amanda to go on a date with you by the end of the summer.” He spots the girls again from across the fire. “What do I get if I win?” Rafe questions, swirling the solo cup in his hand. What’s the point of a bet if Rafe doesn’t gain anything from it? “Bragging rights,” Topper continues when he sees Rafe’s raised eyebrows. “And… we’ll each give you two thousand dollars.” This piques Rafe’s interest. He honestly would’ve done it for the bragging rights, ten thousand is a raindrop compared to the ocean of his family wealth, but it’s always fun to get a little extra money. Before Rafe can agree, Kelce speaks up with his own question. “Hold on, what do we get if you lose?” Rafe’s hand reaches for his chin, rubbing it as he thinks about what he can offer. Money is a plausible option, yet it’s nothing to the rich Kooks. He feels the buzz of his phone with a notification from Barry saying that his next stock is ready. A lightbulb shines in his mind. “I’ll give you all free blow for a month,” he suggests, shoving his phone back in his pocket. Sure, they can afford their own drugs, yet the principle of getting stuff for free gets to anyone. His friends grin at him. “Deal.” 

———

Amanda Dalton. One of the sweetest Kooks around and also the most innocent. She’s the epitome of the dumb blonde stereotype, no matter how much Y/N tries to help her friend out. “Y/N, what state is Canada in? I can’t find this on the map?” Amanda asks, searching through the American map. Y/N sighs and searches up a map of North America, “Babe, Canada is its own country. See. It’s right on top of America. So it’s not a state.” Amanda concentrates on her friend’s phone. “Oh, that makes sense,” she whispers, going back to typing on her phone. Y/N puts her phone away and continues to paint her nails, “Why do you want to know?” “Well, I wanted to buy tickets for the Era’s tour in To…ron…to. It says it’s in Canada,” Amanda explains.

“Toronto? That is in Canada.”

“How about Vancouver? It says British Columbia. Is that in England? I’ve always wanted to go to England.”

“No, Babe. Vancouver is in Canada. British Columbia is the province. It’s like a State. Why are you looking at other concerts anyway? Didn’t your dad already get us the tickets for the concert and plane?”

Amanda nods, “He did. I wanted to go to another one. I guess I won’t be though. Thank you for coming by the way. I know you aren’t the biggest fan of concerts.” Y/N looks up at her friend with a smile. “No problem, I would do anything for you. You know that. Plus, someone has to keep you safe.” Y/N takes Amanda’s hand, starting to paint the girl’s nails without asking. Much to the girls’ surprise, the sliding door opens and Rafe appears before their eyes. “Hello, ladies. How are we today?” he questions with a smile. He settles in the chair between the girls and leans forward on the table. “What are you doing here?” The friends postulate at the same time. Amanda with curiosity. Y/N with annoyance. He flashes his pearly teeth, “Mr. Dalton asked me to come over. I’m helping my dad with the company and he is making a deal with Mr. Dalton, so I offered to come over to go over the contract one more time.” 

“How sweet!” Amanda gushes. Y/N has the opposite idea, “So why are you with us right now?” Rafe ignores the latter and turns to the former. “Not as sweet as your cupcakes. Your little brother let me try one and it was delicious,” he compliments. Y/N knits her eyebrows together. She doesn’t understand why Rafe is being so nice. He’s only polite to people he wants something out of. Amanda’s cheeks turn red and she turns her head to hide it, “Thank you. It’s a new recipe.” “Well, it was really good. If you like cupcakes, I know this great bakery on Maine Street. Maybe… maybe I can take you some time,” he proposes with a charming grin. Amanda’s eyes start to twinkle, “I would love that. Y/N and I love cupcakes. Her favourite is salted caramel. Do they have them?” Rafe is about to correct the assumption that Y/N is invited when the door opens again. 

“Rafe, thank you for waiting and coming over. I’m ready to go over the contract now,” Mr. Dalton announces, giving Rafe room to walk back into the house. Rafe bids goodbye to the girls and follows Mr. Dalton inside. 

———

Y/N closes the front door behind her, making sure to yell out to the family to lock the door after her. The gravel gives way to the pressure of her feet and she puts her headphones on as she picks up her bike from the ground. Her father tried to buy her a car, but she wouldn’t take it. The only thing she allows Mr. Graham to do for her is to pay her tuition at Kildare Academy, but she refuses his help for anything else. She even started working at The Wreck so that she could grow independent from him in university. Unlike most people in the Outer Banks, Y/N doesn’t really belong to either of the tribes. Her father is a wealthy judge, who is the son of an affluent lawyer and doctor. Her mother makes enough as a software developer for them to sit comfortably, nowhere near Kook level, yet also more than the Pogues. Sometimes it’s hard for Y/N to be in the middle of both worlds. Both accept her into their groups, except for the times when she does something that goes against their nature and then it’s like she belongs to neither. Like when she went to Midsummer as a guest, the Pogues were quick to mock her for being a part of the tradition. Or when she sided with the Pogues during a fight between the two groups and suddenly, the Kooks didn’t know who she was. 

Before she hops on the bike, the front door opening and closing causes her to turn around. She thought maybe she had forgotten something and Amanda was coming to bring it to her. Instead, she finds Rafe watching her. Rafe isn’t expecting to see Y/N at the end of the driveway. He didn’t see her when he said goodbye to Amanda, so he assumed she had left a while ago. As they stare at each other, an idea pops into Rafe’s mind. It’s a long shot, except if he can get her to do it, then it would help him along with the bet. Even though, Amanda isn’t a virgin, everyone knows she can be a little ditsy in terms of actual dating. As made evident in his earlier conversation with her, she isn’t the greatest at detecting that someone is flirting with her. He knows that the way other people have had sex with her is because she approached them and Rafe didn’t want to play the game like that. It would be too easy. Plus, Y/N backs off the guys if Amanda is the one to initiate it. He is here to play the game, so he will. 

“Do you want a ride?” he calls out, opening the passenger’s side door for her. Y/N considers it for a second. It would take her around thirty minutes to bike home and only ten minutes by drive. All it takes is for her to notice the setting sun for her to come closer to him. She doesn’t say anything as she opens the back of the truck bed. She struggles a little with putting her bike in the back, so Rafe helps her out. His hand accidentally grazes her arm and she jerks it away from him as soon as she feels his touch. She storms off into the car. Rafe sighs and closes up the back. This is going to be harder than he thought. 

The truck sits in silence before she breaks it. “What are you up to with Amanda?” she interrogates, not looking away from out the window. Rafe isn’t sure how to word his proposition, “Nothing, I was just being nice.” “That’s a lie. Everyone knows that isn’t in your vocabulary,” she retorts. He shrugs and looks back at the road, “Maybe it is now. Amanda is a darling. She deserves to be treated in a pleasant way.” 

“You don’t treat your own sister like that. What makes Amanda so special?”

“I don’t know maybe I like her…” 

He tries to make the words as genuine as he can, looking over to Y/N to further the believability. “Ha, I’m not going to let you go anywhere near her,” she laughs. This is his opportunity, “You might change your mind once you hear what I have to offer.” The joy she feels stops abruptly. She shouldn’t be intrigued, yet she is. He takes her silence as a motion to keep going, “I’ll pay you ten thousand dollars if you help me get a date with Amanda.” Her first instinct is to reject him, “You are ridiculous if you think I would do that to my best friend.”

“Why not? You aren’t doing anything bad. I don’t want to hurt her. Just take her on a date. No offence to her, but we both know that talking to her can make you feel like a catapult. Everything goes over her head.”

“It’s practically selling my friend to you for 10K. I’m not doing it.”

“You aren’t selling her to me, just helping me out. Like a consultant. You could use the money for university. I bet it would go a long way.” 

He got her. He can see the moment her frown turns to interest and he has to stop himself from celebrating. Her mind hates her right now. How could her mood instantly change at such a selfish thought? She thought that she was more loyal and had better values than that. However, the money would help her out a lot with tuition and it’s not like Amanda has to know. “Fine, I’ll help you.” This is a bad idea. 

———

Closer to closing The Wreck is practically a desert town. Y/N sits at the counter, reading over her textbook. “I’d like a table for two, please,” a voice interrupts her studying. She looks up to see that Rafe is alone. She chuckles, “And who is going to be joining you? Your ghost girlfriend.” “Haha. I forgot how funny you are. No, you are,” he reacts, waiting for her to give him a table. She gets up to get him a menu, “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m working.” “There is no one here, Y/N. If someone does come, then I wouldn’t get angry at you for getting up to help them,” he points out, holding his hand out to the booth he decided to sit at since she isn’t moving. She huffs in defeat and joins him at the table. “Did you want to order anything? I don’t think Mike and Anna would like it if I just let you hang out here,” she informs before sitting down. Rafe glances over the menu, “Ugh, a cheeseburger, fries and a coke for me, please. And then get whatever you want. On me.” Y/N’s eyebrows rise at the mention of a please and that he’ll pay for her food. She isn’t going to argue though because who doesn’t like free food? 

Rafe plays with his rings while he waits for her to return. “Alright, I put the order in,” she tells him, sliding into the booth across from him. He nods and looks down, “Thanks.” She waits for him to talk and gets annoyed when he doesn’t. “Why did you come here, Rafe?” she asks with irk dripping from her voice. He gathers his thoughts, “You said you’d help me get through to Amanda. So what can you tell me?” “Right. Then I have two things I want to bring up. One. I’m going to quiz you to make sure you actually care for her. Two. If you pass, we are going over the terms of this deal,” she lists with two fingers up. Nerves cause goosebumps to run up and down his arms. The prospect of being quizzed on Amanda makes him worry that he won’t be able to keep up this charade. He extends his hand out, motioning for her to continue. “I’ll start easy. When is her birthday?” she tests. 

“May 25th.” 

“Correct. What’s her favourite TV show?” 

“She says The Good Place because it’s your favourite, but it’s really The Bachelorette.” 

“Okay. Last year, she had an allergic reaction to something. What was it?”

“She got stung by a bee.”

“Right. Final question, what does she do when she gets nervous.” Rafe pauses for a second. He has no idea what the answer is. The only reason why he knows all the other stuff is because Amanda is a loud talker, but something that comes from an observance of her wouldn’t register in his brain. As he thinks, his eyes are drawn to the way Y/N’s fingers dance along the table. He can tell they are moving in a pattern but he can’t keep track of it. “Are you going to answer the question?” she impatiently queries. He focuses on her face, “No, I honestly don’t know. I really do like her. I promise.” “Your promises don’t mean anything to me, but you still pass. I was going to help you anyway, knowing those things don’t mean anything. I just wanted to make you suffer a little,” she teases with a soft smile that Rafe enjoys. He chuckles, “You got me. So, to go over the deal. As long as she goes on a date with me by the end of the summer, you get your money. Does that work for you?” “It works perfectly. I’m going to add that I am not going to let you do anything that hurts her and if you do it behind my back, I’m going to chop your dick off and sell it on the black market to be eaten by the creepiest bidder,” she threatens, her finger pointed at him. He extends his hand out to her, “Deal.” 

———

Y/N readjusts the magazines on the ottoman one more time. She doesn’t know why she told Rafe to come over to her house, but there is more of a chance that they get caught by her going over to his house than by him coming over to hers. There are always more eyeballs on Tannyhill. She is snapped out of her worry by the ding-dong that sounds throughout the house. Her sock-covered feet glide against the hardwood floors as she hurries to answer the door. “Hi,” she greets a little out of breath from her cartoon-like slip. “Come in.” She steps out of the way so Rafe can make his way inside. He enters the house and takes off his shoes once he notices the pile by the door. His eyes examine the open plan of the house. Her house isn’t anything like one would find on the Cut, yet it also isn’t as big as the ones in the Figure Eight. It was brand new when Cordelia bought it and since then, it has undergone small renovations as necessary. 

“I get that it isn’t as big as your house. You don’t need to make googly eyes like that though,” she comments, heading to the kitchen to get something to drink. He shakes his head, “No, I wasn’t thinking that. Your house looks cozy. I like it.” “Well, I don’t care for your approval. Do you want something to drink?” she offers, holding up a can of coke. Rafe doesn’t know if the choice of drink is because she is getting one for herself or if she remembers his order from The Wreck. His head flicks up to signal he does want one. He settles on the couch and listens to the sound of the can being cracked open. She pours the drink into a glass with ice, walking over to join him on the couch. When she places her water next to his bubbly pop, he concludes that she remembered his order and this causes his stomach to flip. He could tell people a hundred times what his favourite food is and he would bet all his money they wouldn’t hold the information in their brain. She takes a sip from her drink, “You have to be more direct when it comes to Amanda, but also not too obvious with what you want or you’ll scare her off.” “If I have to be clear and not clear at the same time, where does that leave me?” he questions with a chuckle. She holds her fingers up so they are practically touching, “In this sweet spot that gets you a date with her.” He sits against the back of the couch. “Okay, so how do I get in that sweet spot?” he inquires, drinking from his cup. “Movies. Recreate a famous movie scene and that’s when it will click in for her.”

“What kind of movies? Like romcoms?” he gets her to clarify. She nods and squats in front of the entertainment centre under the television. She pulls out different DVDs, placing them in front of him. “Yep, we are going to watch all of her favourite rom-com movies, so take notes,” she tells him. He looks at the spread in front of him, “You actually have DVDs.” “Yeah, these cheer Amanda up when she is down and you never know when streaming services will take them down,” she says nonchalantly. He gives her a soft gaze, “You must like the movies too if you bought them though.” “Not really. They’re okay. I prefer mystery movies. Knives Out, A Simple Favor, The Menu. You know, stuff like that,” she lists while popping in the first movie. Rafe thinks it’s sweet that Y/N went out of the way to buy these comfort things for her best friend. 

During the ads, Y/N goes to the kitchen to get some snacks for them. The variety she has is impressive, yet he doesn’t find the quintessential movie night snack. “No popcorn? Not that I’m complaining.” She brings the box of donuts in her lap, “Nah, who needs to fill up on that shit when I’ve got Krispy Kreme donuts.” He watches as she picks up a jelly-filled donut and bites into it. She lets out a small moan, pulling the treat away from her mouth to leave behind the red jam at the corner of her lips. The sound she made went straight to his brain, the one downstairs. His hand goes up to his own mouth to hint at the mess on her face. She wipes at the wrong side, so he goes to wipe the correct corner. She jerks away from him, “It’s okay I got it.” “Sorry,” he mumbles, dropping his gaze with shame. She shakes her head, “It’s fine. I just don’t like being touched. Do you want a donut?” He picks out a regular glazed donut and eats it. “You are right, these are better than popcorn. I have to ask though, why donuts over popcorn?” 

“My mom never liked popcorn. Said they made the house smell when you popped it and the kernels were a choking hazard. Plus, since Krispy Kreme isn’t on the island, she’d make it a whole event when we went to the main island to get them for movie night.” 

“That sounds fun. Are the jelly donuts your favourite?” 

“Yep, I like strawberries and who doesn’t like powdered sugar.”

“True, both very valid reasons to like it. Can I have one?” 

She pulls the box away from him, “That’s a funny joke. These ones are mine.” “You’re territorial, noted,” he thinks out loud. The movie starts and a hush falls on both of them. After watching a few movies, they take a break to go to the bathroom. “Do you want to watch The Good Place?” he proposes as she walks back into the room. She tilts her head at him, “Sure. I meant to ask. How do you know it’s my favourite show?” He changes the TV to the Firestick and pulls up the show on Netflix. His shoulder rises, “You talked about it in philosophy class. It was what you made your presentation on and you sounded so passionate about it that it was clear how much you liked the show.” “Huh, I didn’t think you would notice that,” she thinks out loud. He gives her a pointed look, “I’m not as unobservant as people think that I am, you know. I do actually listen when other people speak.” She smirks at him. “Really? I wasn’t aware your ears had the ability to listen.”

———

The sight before her is one that she never dreamed of seeing. She honestly isn’t sure if her rom-com plan is going to work, but getting Rafe to recreate the movie and the money is worth the lie she told him. It wasn’t hard to get most of their class to come to the football field during the summer. Everyone will do what Rafe would say and people are too scared of Y/N to argue. When the speaker turns on with a loud screech, multiple people duck with their hands covering their ears. The beginning melodies of “Can’t Take My Eyes off Of You” by Frankie Valli start to play and out comes Rafe from behind the bleachers. He sings the lyrics as he moves from side to side of the rows, pointing to Amanda to make it clear who he is talking to. Y/N glances at her friend to see the other girl’s eyebrows connected. She nudges her friend with her elbow, “I think he is serenading you.” “Like in 10 Things I Hate About You?” Amanda’s eyes brighten. Y/N’s head moves up and down, “I think so.” Amanda’s hands come together near her heart and a smile paints on her face. 

“This is so sweet. Do you think he wants to fuck?” 

“Babe, for him to go through all of this, I think he wants to do a lot more than have sex.” 

The song finishes and Rafe hops over bench after bench to run in front of Amanda. “Please go on a date with me, Beautiful,” Rafe pleads. Y/N should feel happy that the plan is working. The look on her best friend’s face says it all, yet it doesn’t help the ugly roar she wants to let out at the nickname he used. She is pulled out of her thoughts by Amanda screaming yes. Amanda flings herself into his arms and kisses his face. The student body claps to congratulate the pair. With the endgame achieved, Y/N feels she is overstepping, so she starts heading back to her bike. 

A voice from behind her halts her departure. “Hey, Y/N, wait. Where are you going?” She spins around to see Rafe chasing after her. “I’m heading home. You got your date to go on and I’ll wait until you go on it to collect what you owe me,” she says, getting on her bike. Right as she is about to petal off, Rafe runs in front of her and grabs her handlebars so she can’t go further. His head moves from side to side, “We are going out tomorrow. She has dinner planned with her family tonight, so I thought that maybe as a thank you, we can go to the Mainland and get some doughnuts.” “From Krispy Kreme?” she mutters, playing with the knob of her bike bell. He smiles, “Where else? Come on, we can make an afternoon out of it. I think it would be fun.” “And why would you want to spend more time with me? I’m not the one that you like,” she responds. His fingers meet her hands on the bar. When she doesn’t flinch, Rafe thinks she lied about not liking being touched or maybe her feelings about him have changed. “Because I’m grateful that you are helping me and I want to thank you.”

“You will thank me with the ten thousand dollars that you give me.”

Rafe doesn’t know why he insists on taking Y/N out; he really wants to spend the afternoon with Y/N. 

“Are you really turning down a free doughnut? I saw that box, you don’t have any more strawberry jelly doughnuts to fill your tummy, Petite Louve.” 

Three years of French means that Y/N can easily translate the nickname he calls her. Little Wolf. She wants to ask why he called her that, except her rumbling stomach gets her to agree with his statement instead, “Fine, let’s go.” Rafe lets out a victorious whoop and he helps her off her bike. They walk beside each other to his car. Y/N would bump her hip against his every once in a while, which would cause him to knock into the bike that he was holding for her. He could only chuckle every time she did so. 

———

“How can you drink that? It’s basically all sugar?”

“Says the person who is about to eat a bunch of donuts. I don’t think you can judge me though because you are drinking pure dark roast. No wonder you are so bitter.”

Y/N giggles, “I will have you know that my bitterness is due to the fact that most people suck.” “Hm, that makes more sense. Here, try some. Maybe it will make you a little sweeter,” he offers. He tips the straw in her direction. The light brown slushy-like drink is topped with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles. Her lips wrap around the tube and suck. Rafe tries to stop the intruding thought of her lips being around something else. He doesn’t know why the image came into his mind; he shouldn’t think of her like that. Her face scrunches as soon as the sweet liquid hits her tongue. “Blegh, I was right. This is too sweet,” she criticizes. She hands him back his drink and their hands brush against each other. He laughs at her reaction and she loves the way it sounds. He takes a sip from his drink, “Why am I not surprised that it’s too sweet for you, Petite Louve?” She stops swirling the coffee cup in her hand and looks up at him. “Why did you start calling me that?” she queries. He leans back in his chair, “Call you what?” “Petite Louve,” she utters without hesitation. His elbows meet the table as he places his head on his hands, “It means little wolf.” He knows what she wants to know, except he is enjoying this game. She rolls her eyes and her arms cross one on top of the other. “I was in your French class last year, Rafe. I know what it means,” she scolds, giving him a dead stare. Rafe’s hands go up in defence, “Alright, alright. It’s because wolves are protective of their pack and they don’t often let outsiders in. That’s how you are with your pack.” 

“I see. Wolves are pretty cool so I accept that nickname,” she concludes. He lets out a satisfied breath, “They are. So are you going to eat your doughnut or are we going to stare at it all afternoon?” Her eyes dart to the white puff piece in front of her. She picks it out and holds it up to him. He gives her a raised eyebrow. “Because you let me try your drink,” she clarifies, waving it in his face. He takes a bite and similar to what happened to her a few days ago, a small red blob forms at the corner of his lips. Her arm instinctively reaches for his face and wipes the smear off his face. She uses the napkin to clean off her thumb. “Thanks,” he shows his gratitude by offering the doughnut he picked out for himself. 

She takes a bite out of it and they eat in silence for a few minutes. “I totally embarrassed myself this afternoon, didn’t I?” he verifies between bites of his caramel Kreme crunch. A grin forms on her face as she recalls the events, “I thought it was hilarious. Unfortunately, from what I saw on Insta, every girl found it romantic and every guy wished they thought of it to get into Amanda’s pants.” Rafe can see the gears turning behind her eyes. “You are planning their downfall, aren’t you?” Her grin turns wicked, “Most definitely. They are going to regret the shit they said.” “Well, I’m looking forward to seeing what you have planned for those guys,” he informs. They had about two more doughnuts each before packing up the rest for home. He opens the door for her and hovers his hand on her lower back as he guides her to his car, making sure not to make any contact with her. She can feel the heat emanating from his hand and wishes that she can feel the weight of it. He pulls the passenger’s side door open for her, closing it once she is safely in the truck. As he drives to the ferry, his eyes dart toward her and drink in her appearance. Her shoes are resting firmly on the floor mat while her sock-clad feet are curled under her leg. She leans back against the car seat with her hands on her knee. The slight dip at the corner of her lips does not stop her from mouthing along to the lyrics of the song. 

Her clothes aren’t name-brand like the other Kook girls. It looks like something she could get at any generic store. However, one thing stands out to Rafe as he watches her stick her hand out the window to glide with the wind. A gold bracelet with three small diamonds slid down her right arm. Only one person could’ve gotten her that Tiffany & Co. bracelet. “Why won’t you let your dad pay for your university?” The hand out the window drops onto her lap. She fiddles with her bracelet. “He didn’t want to be in my life. The only reason why he suddenly cared about my existence is because my mother moved here, so I could be closer to him. He solely cared for me when it fits into his life,” she begins. “If he pays for my university tuition, then it’s going to be like I owe him something. And the last thing I want is to owe that man something.” 

Rafe nods as she says, “If you don’t want to owe him anything, then why are you going to Kildare Academy? It’s not like you can’t go to Kildare Country.” “It’s an agreement I made with my mom. She agreed that I could pay for university if he pays for private school,” she shrugs. He finds it refreshing that, even though she could choose to be taken care of, she wants to provide for herself and work hard to be able to do so. The car slows once her house comes into view. It comes to a stop and Rafe reaches behind the seats for the box of doughnuts in the back. His hand accidentally brushes her shoulder; she doesn’t flinch away. Instead, she wishes his warmth would remain against her skin. He turns toward her and rests it on her lap. “Thanks… for everything. It was really nice of you,” her voice is barely above the sound of a mouse. He flashes her a smile, “No problem. And should I be concerned that you are being kind to me? Are you playing nice so I don’t suspect you are going to kill me?” “Haha, I’ll have you know that I can be delightful sometimes,” she retorts. Her eyes wander down his face to his pink lips. They appear to be softer than she expected. He doesn’t seem like the type to use lip balm. He notices her line of sight and instinctively, he examines the curve of her lips. 

His head leans forward and she follows his lead. A knock at the window causes them to jump away from each other. “Hey, Baby! Where have you been?” Cordelia yells through the window. “Is that Rafe Cameron beside you?” The mother squints at the boy sitting beside her daughter. “Yes, Mom, it’s Rafe. We went to the Mainland for doughnuts. We brought you back the glazed chocolate cake ones you like,” Y/N reports to her mother whilst rolling down the windows. Rafe’s head peeks out from behind Y/N’s head, “Hello, Ms. Y/L/N.” They wave at each other and Cordelia smiles at the two of them. “Please, call me Cordelia. You bought me dessert. Do you want to come inside for dinner? We are probably going to order from The Wreck,” she suggests. Rafe shakes his head with tight lips, “I would love to if I didn’t have to go to dinner with my family tonight.” “Ahh, that’s too bad. You definitely have to come over another time,” she encourages. He assents to the statement, “It would be my pleasure.” Y/N gets out of the car, gathers her bike from the back and the women bid Rafe au dieu as he drives back home. 

“You and Rafe would make a pretty cute couple.” Y/N’s eyes orbit themselves, “We aren’t a couple, Mom.” “Sureee. I saw you guys were about to kiss. It was funny seeing how fast you guys jumped away from each other,” the mother taunts her daughter. Y/N groans, “Forget about delivery, I’ll pick up our food myself.” She hops on her bike and starts making her way to the restaurant. “You can’t escape my questioning forever, Baby,” Cordelia screams to the girl fading into the distance. 

———

He didn’t want to lie with Y/N close by; he couldn’t exactly reveal to her that he was going to meet up with his friends to collect his winnings from a bet. It would ruin everything if she found out about the bet. “I think it’s cheating that you got Y/N to help you out,” Topper objects, setting his stack of money on the table. He shrugs, “We didn’t mention anything about getting outside help. We merely talked about me getting a date with Amanda, which I am going on tomorrow.” Rafe counts the money, listening to his friend complain to the others.

———

Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about what her mother said. When she got home, her mother wouldn’t believe that Rafe wasn’t her boyfriend until she told the older woman he was going on a date with Amanda. Despite that, her mind is plagued with the idea of being his girlfriend. She’s never felt this way before about someone. She shouldn’t feel this way about him. Love isn’t something that is on her checklist for things she wants to achieve in life. “Get out of my brain you insufferable man,” she grumbles to herself. She twists to rest on her other side, watching the light shine on her bedroom wall as a car drives by. Why can she still feel the warmth of his hand at the bottom of her back? Why didn’t she feel uncomfortable by his touch on her shoulder? She places her hand over the shoulder he touched, trying to simulate his touch. It doesn’t feel the same. Her hand drops to her elbow and she goes through the day. The envy she felt at Rafe calling Amanda beautiful. The sweet gesture of going out of his way to take her somewhere that means so much to her. The way he respected her boundaries about being touched when she didn’t initiate it. These all lead her to one conclusion she can’t make sense of. She must be falling in love with Rafe Cameron. And there is one thing she needs to do before his date tomorrow that is going to make her a bad friend. 

———

Rafe jogs over to the front door and swings it open. “Hey, I got your money. I was going to give it to you tomorrow… I can get it for you now if you want,” he propositions, stepping back to head upstairs. Her hand darts out to grab his wrist. At the contact, she retracts her arm back to her side with a mumbled sorry. “It’s okay, come in. If you aren’t here for the cash, what did you want to talk about?” he queries. She avoids the windows to his soul and plays with the bottom of her sweater’s sleeve. “Petite Louve, are you okay?” he worries, his hands ghosting the side of her arms. Her normal assurance seems to have evaporated completely from her body. She finally has the confidence to look at him, “Do you really like Amanda?” He pauses, unsure of what to say. “O-of course I do. Why else would I ask for your help with asking her out if I didn’t?”

“Maybe… maybe at the time you thought you liked her.” 

“I did and I still do.”

“Do you really though? Because you don’t have any chemistry with her. Not like you do with... With me.”

His emotions flood him like an ocean overtaking a desert. How can he deny something so true? Except he has too. Not simply because of his bet on Amanda, but because what do two people like them know about romantic devotion? One who doesn’t believe in it and the other who enjoys the chase too much to care about commitment. When the pads of her fingers grazed his face yesterday, he thought he would do anything else to have it on him again. He’d chop off the hand of anyone else who tried to touch him if it meant forgetting what she made him sense. With her standing in front of him, he could have all of that. However, he knows how fragile her heart is and he can’t be the one to accidentally break it. 

“I have no idea what you are talking about Y/N. I like Amanda and I’m going on a date with her. What else would all of this be for? You and I are purely friends and I value that friendship.” 

A dagger to her back isn’t the word for what this feels like. It’s more accurate to say that he put a bag over her head and held it there to leave her gasping for air. This is why she doesn’t believe in love. Because right when a person thinks they have it, the universe rips it away from them in some cruel act. It’s what happened to her mother and it is what’s happening to her at this moment. She fights back the swell that is trying to burst through her tear ducts. She steps away from him, inching toward the front door. Her head swivels to the side and she watches the potted plant on the side sway with the wind. “Right, friends. How could I be so wrong? I mean what would I know about love if I’ve never been in it? I’m going to go. Good luck on your date,” she apologizes, leaving without letting him say another word. Once she is gone, Rafe doesn’t know how he keeps himself upright. His head feels dizzy and his heart is being put through a shredder. He had to do it. There is no happy ending for them. Not for two people who have no idea what it is to be in love.

———

A month with Amanda was one month too long. Every date they went on further proved the mistake he made the day of their first date. He tried to be the boyfriend she deserved. Tried to fall in love with her. Just because it started as a dare, doesn’t mean it can’t be more for him. Nothing he did could make that sentiment true. His mind was occupied with someone else. With someone, he is trying to protect by lying about how he truly feels about her. This was wrong though and he knew how he could fix it. “And my dress to the party is going to be light pink, so I need your tie to mat-” Amanda can’t finish her thought cause Rafe interrupts her. “I think we should break up.” Her lips move to form soundless words. “Wh-what do you mean?” she cries with her bottom lip quivering. “We aren’t working out. I think it’s best that we break up,” he justifies. He gets up from the table and jogs out of the coffee shop to his car. If they never dated, then he couldn’t break her heart. Except it also meant he didn’t get to spend any more doughnut days. He didn’t get any more afternoons watching The Good Place. He didn’t go to The Wreck out of fear of seeing her. Getting those moments with her is worth the possibility of ending up unhappy because then he would have the good memories they made to keep him company. Mistakes can be made and they can also be fixed. 

———

Topper and Kelce talk at the booth in the corner, pausing every time Y/N gets close to them. She pays no real attention to them whilst she cleans the table around them. She focuses on finishing her task so she can go home when her shift finishes in ten minutes.  Once she finishes wiping down the table, she picks up the bus tub and starts to head toward the kitchen. Her hand goes for her phone, which makes her realize she left her phone on the chair back there. She spins to get it and catches the back end of the boys’ conversation. “I mean not only does he call her a dog, but he also compared her fuckability to a bag of potatoes and the universe is still like ‘Yeah, sure. She’ll help you win 10K by helping you get a date with her best friend.’ I mean how is that fair.” The tub at the side of her hip clatters on the ground, causing the friends to turn in her direction. “Shit,” Topper whispers. She storms toward them and slams her hands against the table, “Tell me everything.” And for fear of their dicks, they divulge every single detail about that night at the bonfire. 

———

Thanks to Sarah, who asked Kiara, Rafe knew that Y/N was working today and that her shift was about to end. He leans up against the truck, waiting for her to exit the restaurant. He thinks against putting her bike in his truck already, so she doesn’t feel obligated to talk to him. He pushes off of the side of the truck as soon as he catches sight of her walking down the wooden ramp. He frowns the closer she gets because he can now clearly see that she is touching her face to wipe away tears. Anger fills him at the thought of someone hurting his Petite Louve. He wants to harm whoever did this to her. 

He rushes to the end of the ramp, “Petite Louve, who did this to you?” He restrains himself from pulling her into a hug; instead, he waits for her to blanket herself in his hold. She freezes at his voice, chuckling at his appearance. “Oh, I didn’t know you cared about me again. Thought you would be too busy basking in the glory of your Beautiful to care for someone who can be out fucked by potatoes,” she growls, furiously digging her palms into her eyes to get rid of her tears. She refuses to let him see her vulnerable again. His eyes widen as words he said so long ago are repeated back to him. His hand drags down his mouth, “Who told you that?” “Does it really matter when it’s your words that are causing me pain?” she counters. His hands ghost her shoulders with a shake. “You don’t know the full story,” he argues, running his hands through his hair. She chortles, “So the full story isn’t that you called me a dog and said that I wasn’t attractive before using me to win a bet that would hurt my best friends. And you LIED about it. You made me so much worse of a friend than I thought I was.” “What I said doesn’t mean anything. It was all a lie. It was before… before I knew who you truly were,” he croaks, knowing this isn’t going to end as he thought it would. 

“It’s either a lie or said because you didn’t know me. Choose one because neither of those things is acceptable to me. And to think that I thought I was actually falling in love with you. You go ahead and prove that everything I thought about love is true.”

“You were falling for me?”

“No. I don’t believe in love, so I guess my brain was a little confused. How could it think that someone so selfish and self-centred could be the one for me?”

He knows that her words are true and are merely a fraction of her agony at the revelation. He is left gapping like a fish, searching for any word that would convey how sorry he is for everything. She isn’t satisfied by his wordless scramble, so she gets onto her bike. She doesn’t look back at him as she rides back home. “Fuck,” he yells once she is finally out of sight. He kicks the tire of his car. Topper and Kelce sheepishly come out, discussing how they are going to reveal this all to Rafe. For all they know, Rafe is in love with Amanda. They stop in their tracks. “Rafe…What are you doing here?” Topper frets, approaching the boy hesitantly. Rafe’s eyes burn into their souls, “WHO TOLD HER?” “It was an accident man. We’re sorry. Maybe she won’t tell Amanda,” Kelce hopes. Rafe’s hand tugs at the strands of his hair, “I don’t fucking care about Amanda. Y/N is torn up about what happened and she hates me even more than before. I was about to try to fix everything and now because of you two shitheads, I have no chance.” He slams the car door entering it, cursing why he had to screw this up in the first place.

———

Y/N had to tell Amanda the truth. She isn’t like Rafe; she can’t lie to the people she cares about. “I’m so sorry, Babe. I understand if you don’t want to be friends. I would hate myself too. I just hope you can forgive me for what I have done,” she begs with tears in her eyes. Amanda’s hand cups her friend’s, “I love you and it’s the past.” Y/N looks at Amanda with big eyes.

“You are too forgiving.”

“Or maybe you aren’t forgiving enough. Your mom forgave your dad a long time ago, so why shouldn’t I forgive you?” 

“Are you back onto this again? You think I should forgive my dad.” 

“He needs a chance, not forgiveness. From the moment you were old enough, you hated your dad. He has never gotten the chance to show you that he loves you. I mean, have you ever asked your mom how she feels now about everything?” 

Y/N stiffens, taking in the suggestion her best friend gave. Amanda continues at Y/N’s silence, “Because I have, Y/N/N. She said that in the moment, it felt horrible. But… as she got older, she realized that it was the right choice. Their relationship was the product of an affair, so she would’ve never been able to trust him if they got married.” “I… uhh… I never knew she felt that way,” Y/N admits, bowing her head in shame. Amanda squeezes Y/N’s hand, “That’s okay. You do now, therefore it means you can change. Give your dad a chance. Now, tell me what is going on with you and Rafe?” “Nothing has been going on with him,” Y/N lies. Amanda giggles, “I’m your best friend. I know when you are lying.” “Fine, I thought that I was falling for him. It was a mistake. He was just using me to get to you. I let him convince me to hurt you and I was such a bad friend for that,” Y/N reasons. Amanda shakes her head, “Please stop beating yourself up over that. As for Rafe, I think it turned into something so much more than getting your help with me.” “Why would you say that?” Y/N inquiries with a tilt of her head. “He broke up with me earlier tonight and he seemed to be on a mission when he left. From what you told me, he was going to tell you something,” Amanda starts to illuminate. “Plus, I know people think that I’m clueless, but I could tell his mind was occupied by someone else during our relationship. He always wanted to watch The Good Place while eating powdered jelly doughnuts. In hindsight, that should’ve been my indicators as to who he was thinking about.”

Y/N looks at her best friend with glassy eyes, “Really?” “Yeah, I would go along with it because it made me feel like I was hanging out with you. And I like hanging out with you too,” Amanda confesses, looking down with a smile. Y/N is touched by her soul sister’s words and pulls Amanda into a hug, “That was so sweet. You know you are more intelligent than people give you credit for and I’m sorry I don’t realize that more often.” “It’s okay. And I know I’m smart. I also know that you need someone to take care of.” Amanda kisses her friend’s forehead and they remain in each other’s grasp for the rest of the night. 

———

After seeing her for the first time in a month, Rafe didn’t know how he lived without her. What they had was so brief, yet it burned so brightly in his mind. He keeps reliving the memory of them in his mind and it makes his heartache that he doesn’t have more with her. He has to make this right with her for his sanity and his heart. He can’t relive the past; he has to find a way to make a future for them possible. This leads him to the one person in the world who will know how to fix everything. It kinda feels like an ironic full circle to him. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now after I broke your heart. But I really do need your help,” he pleads to Amanda, who is in her backyard tanning. Her eyes find him through her sunglasses, “I’m more pissed off that you hurt Y/N more than anything you did to me.” “Right, right. I can understand why you feel that way. What I did to both of you was shitty,” he confirms, rubbing the back of his neck. She shrugs, “It was. I thought she was finally coming around to the idea of love and now, thanks to you, she feels like she has direct confirmation that it isn’t real.” “I’m sorry.” She scoffs, “Sorry isn’t exactly going to fix what you did.” 

“I know. I’ll do anything to get your forgiveness. And I want to show Y/N that love is really because… Because I love her.”

Amanda sits up completely at the new revelation, “You love her?” “I do. I can’t get her out of my head. I wake up and I’m thinking about her. I go to sleep and I’m thinking about her. Every moment in between I spend beating myself up for letting her go,” he rants, tearing up at the thought of this not going where he wants to go. She crosses her arms, “Well, I want you to be beating yourself up forever.” “Don’t you also want to see Y/N happy?” he counters. 

“I do. And that’s what do you want to do? Make her happy?”

“I want to make her the happiest fucking person in the world and I would give up anything in the world for that to happen.” 

“Fine, I’ll help you. If you hurt her though, I will have my father pull out of the deal with yours and absolutely take down Cameron Development. It’s my turn to be protective of her.” 

Rafe nods, “I would deserve so much more than that if I hurt Y/N. Now, how many rom-coms am I going to have to watch and do you have doughnuts for while we are watching them?” 

———

Y/N couldn’t believe she was considering doing this right now. She’s walked up and down the driveway so many times that she seriously thinks she should get on her bike and leave. The door swinging open stops her from escaping the situation. “Y/N, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?” Willard steps outside and rushes to check on his daughter. She steps back to stay away from her father’s touch. “I’m fine, Dad. Can I ask you a question?” she cuts to the chase. Willard’s head moves up and down, “Of course. Anything, Kiddo.” “Did you really love Mom?” she spews, eyes glued to her hands playing with themselves. His eyes are slightly wide as he answers, “I did. I regret lying and causing her pain, especially since it meant losing the chance to be your father.” “Why did you do it then?” she pushes further, needing all the answers as to why her father broke their family apart before they could become one. He stares at her for a second, “Life is complicated. I had an affair with your mother when my marriage was showing signs of problems. I was young and thought that running from my problems was the solution. When I found out about you, I realized I had to grow up. So I went back home, worked on my marriage, and focused on earning money to help provide for you.” 

“I was the reason why you broke Mom’s heart?” she whimpers, an awful feeling growing in her stomach at the thought of risking her mother’s love life. Willard shakes his head, “No, none of this is your fault, Kiddo. I was the idiot who broke your mother’s heart. It was never your fault, so don’t think that for even a second.” “Right. Well, thank you for answering my questions,” she states, backing away from her father with her head down low. He scrambles after his daughter, “Wait, is that all you wanted to talk about?” She falls in a standstill. “No… I was thinking that maybe we could go out together sometime. I think that I want to give our relationship a chance.” Willard grins, “Of course, I’m free right now if you want to go out for a late lunch.” “I can work with that,” she agrees.

———

Lunch with her father worked quite well and her mom was glad that it did. “I think it’s great that you are trying to have a relationship with your dad. The resentment you had for him wasn’t healthy,” Cordelia praises her daughter, bringing her into a hug. Y/N smiles at her mom, “Yeah, it was fun. Although, I still don’t think I want him paying for uni if he doesn’t have to. I want to try having a little bit of my own independence.” “I think that’s great, Baby. Remember that your father and I are always here to help you if you need it,” Cordelia assures. A knock at the door pulls them apart. “I’ll get it.” Her mother leaves her bedroom, so she flops back on her bed with a sigh. “Y/N, you have a guest,” the mother announces from downstairs. Y/N groans because she is just getting comfortable. She rolls out of bed and falls on the floor with a grunt. Her hair is a little chaotic, yet doesn’t bother to fix it. The echo of her weight jumping from stair to stair is the only one that can be heard throughout the house. “Babe, I didn’t know you were coming ov-” Y/N starts, thinking Amanda is at the door because it is the only plausible answer. She ceases once she lays a sight on who it is. “You have a lot of balls coming here,” she says with her hand coming down on her jutted-out hip. 

Rafe gives her a sheepish smile, “I know. Could we talk?” Y/N huffs, thinking about her new streak of giving people chances. She turns to her mother, who is standing near the door. “You guys probably want privacy. I really don’t want to; however, I will be going to the store to get more… eggs?” Cordelia excuses herself, taking her purse and keys to head to the store. “I’m sorry,” he breathes out now that they are alone. Her eyebrows raise, “Is that all you wanted to say?” “No, it’s just the beginning of everything I have to say. I wanted to give you a chance to back out,” he acknowledges. 

She motions with her hands for him to continue. “Lying to you so it risked your relationship with Amanda was horrible. I’m glad that you guys are still friends. It was also terrible that thing that I said about sex and potatoes. It was out of line. I’m sorry and don’t believe that it is true. Those weren’t my biggest mistakes though. My biggest mistake was telling you that we didn’t have any chemistry. Because we fucking do. We have a whole chemistry lab. Test tubs and drugs and all,” he raves. She doesn’t want to giggle, except that the comparison he made was too good not to laugh at. “You know people normally equate chemistry with sparks or fireworks,” she faults, turning her head to the side so he can’t see her amusement. He chuckles with her, “I don’t think we can be considered as normal. I’m an idiot who messes everything up half of the time and you are a stubborn girl who doesn’t believe in love.” “So you’re saying that all girls have to believe in love,” she chides. Rafe panics, “No, I didn’t mean it like that I… uh.” 

“It’s fine, stopping blubbering like a fish out of water,” she commands. His mouth closes and he scratches the back of his neck. “I see you haven’t lost your bark,” he comments. 

“If I lose my bark, then I wouldn’t be me.”

“Right, petite louves always have a bark.”

“Wolves don’t bark. They howl.”

“Okay, I think we are a little off track.”

She shuts up at his words, waiting for him to continue. Silence fills the room as Rafe gets everything off of his chest. “That’s all you want to say?” she confirms. His mouth ups and closes before he nods. “It’s my turn to talk. One. I don’t really care about the potato thing. I’m a virgin so I don’t expect to have any sort of skill in that department. Two. You are lucky Amanda forgave me or else your dick would be hammered to my bike. Three. I tried to open up to you and you lied to me. How am I supposed to trust you after that?” she tirades. Rafe hmms, “Those are all valid points. And I hope maybe you can trust me by letting me show you that I truly love you.” “You don’t love me. You just think you do. Love doesn’t exist,” she reveals. Rafe objects, “I think that you changed your mind on it and are too scared to admit that you did.” “Yeah because look where believing in love landed me. Almost losing my best friend and my heart felt like it just got crushed by an anvil,” she fires back with venom laced in her words. A crooked smile forms on his lips, “So you admit that you do love me.” “I-I… umm. That’s not wh-... um,” she babbles, trying to untie herself from the net he caught her in. 

He takes this as a chance to step closer to her, “Now, look who is the fish, Petite Louve.” He perceives the way her breath stops falling on his skin and a sense of victory finds its way through him. She stares up at him with a dumbfounded look, trying to think of a comeback. Rather than doing so, she falls victim to her own desires and pulls him down so her lips can meet his. His arms grip her waist, just above her bum to pull her closer to him. Their kiss deepens and suddenly, air isn’t something they need. A cough from the front door ends the motion of their lips. Their heads press together as they see who is there. Cordelia gives the pair a bashful smile, “Sorry, I forgot my phone.” 

They wait for her to get her phone from the kitchen. “Rafe, you are staying for dinner when I get back. I also look forward to hearing your apology to me for hurting my baby girl,” Cordelia proclaims, closing the door at the last word. Y/N steps away from him, examining the hardwood floor to gather her thoughts. “This doesn’t mean that everything is completely fine between us. You don’t get to earn my trust back with the snap of your fingers,” she discloses, toeing at the floor with the point of her foot. Rafe’s head bobs, “Definitely, I understand. It will take at least a thousand strawberry jelly doughnuts for that.” She gives him a shove, laughing through her nose. “It’s going to take a lot more than doughnuts for what you have to do,” she adds. “I know. I am prepared to give you all the jelly doughnuts in the world and so much more to help you truly believe in love.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @nonbullshit-toleratingkindagirl

[pant--eater]

plot twist: the new Wallace and gromit film is actually about how Wallace meets Willard and falls in love THEN decide to put their skills together and romantically make things. The gnome makes sense cuz Willard literally says in CR "Ohh Gnomes now?" SO Willard and Wallace go on a date and make robot gnomes that knit.

Then they have to fight off Feathers in an epic battle scene and Wallace stares at Willard as he fights but it's all slow motion and he's all glowy whilst Wallace basically drools with hearts eyes. Gromit just stood there with a tea absolutely done with everything.

Sorry if this is really weirdly written I can't word things very well aaaaa thank you for coming to my Ted talk BYEEEE

LEAKING IMPORTANT SPOILERY PLOT DETAILS OF THE UPCOMING MOVIE LIKE THIS??? smh man not cool /j /lh

anon you have a GALAXY BRAIN, I had entirely forgotten about Willard's "oh gnomes now" line. It's all coming together, his line was all about foreshadowing his upcoming redemption arc and slowburn yaoi with the disastrous inventor (also apparently the Smart Gnome is gonna be a metaphor for AI art and how it drains Wallace of his invention creativity?? Yeah Willard's got experience with an awful techbro ex-wife, he ain't having anyone take away his autism creature boyfriend's joy and whimsy)

[potato-lord-but-not]

2023 Art Battle Masterpost

BRINGING THIS BACK BB ITS THE ANUAL BATTLE TO THE DEATH !!

I’ll start making polls tomorrow so enjoy this sneak peak while ya wait !!

Round 1

LEFT BRACKET:

Cluster vs Celestial Bis

Jon Sims vs Homoerotic Sword Moment

Gwen vs Danny

Sun & Moon vs Ode to Intimacy

Jack Met vs Siblings

Frankenstein vs Nick Bears in Trees

Will Wood vs William Woodiam

Ineffable Husbands vs Death of the Author

Bi Vampire vs 6up 5oh Moist

Mac vs Eclipse Sapphics

Yellow Wills vs Todd & Dirk

Dirk Gently vs DnD Bears in Trees

Gonzalez vs Hobie

Nick & Charlie vs Ode to Hunger

Dr Jekyll & Mr Hyde vs Rincewind

Tighnari vs Krummi

RIGHT BRACKET:

Me vs The Hottest Bisexuals

Maladict vs Irradiated

August vs Blue Wills

My Wife vs Will Doodles

Ankh-Morpork Streets vs Mike Crew

Crowley vs Purple Wills

Tiffany vs Gay Wizard

Shatter vs Adora

Mostly Harmless vs Dorian Gray

H2G2 Designs vs Demon & Angel

Moist & Adora vs Pink Wills

Pavitr vs Willard

Ankh-Morpork Polycule vs Emma <3

Trans Zombie vs Gay Yearning

Moist vs Vimes

Pav vs Jhariah

Round 2

Celestial Bis vs Homoerotic Sword Gays

Gwen vs Ode to Intimacy

Siblings vs Frankenstein

Will Wood vs Death of the Author

6up 5oh Moist vs Eclipse Sapphics

Yellow Wills vs Dirk Gently

Hobie vs Ode to Hunger

Rincewind vs Tighnari

Hottest Bisexuals vs Irradiated

Blue Wills vs My Wife

Ankh Morpork Streets vs Purple Wills

Tiffany vs Shatter

Mostly Harmless vs Demon & Angel

Moist & Adora vs Pavitr

Ankh Morpork Polycule vs Gay Yearning

Moist vs Pav

Round 3

Homoerotic Sword Moment vs Ode to Intimacy

Siblings vs Death of the Author

6up 5oh Moist vs Dirk Gently

Ode to Hunger vs Rincewind

Hottest Bisexuals vs Blue Wills

Ankh Morpork Streets vs Shatter

Demon & Angel vs Moist & Adora

Gay Yearning vs Pav

Round 4

Ode to Intimacy vs Death of the Author

Dirk Gently vs Ode to Hunger

Hottest Bisexuals vs Ankh Morpork Streets

Moist & Adora vs Gay Yearning

Round 5

Ode to Intimacy vs Ode to Hunger

Ankh Morpork Streest vs Gay Yearning

FINAL ROUND

Ankh Morpork Streets vs Ode to Hunger

OUR WINNER !!

ANKH MORPORK STREETS IS THE ART OF 2023 ‼️‼️

thanks for voting girlies ;^)

[justrainandcoffee]

The traitor

Prev. || Masterlist

Summary: The eldest son of Jared I Stark, and the night that the young wolf was separated from the pack.

Warnings: Homosexuality and homophobia. Death.

Words: 700 || Once again, remember that these are just blurbs that show what the different characters did before the war. And how their actions are going to affect that war in the future.

He always liked men. Even as kid, Jared II Stark knew that girls, their long hair and elegant mannerisms and gracious smile weren't something he'd find attractive. The soldiers and knights his father commanded, on the other hand...

But he also knew that his father wanted more Starks, Jared's own chidren especially healthy boys, but men couldn't provide that.

He heard his father talking to his council about a possible alliance with the Reach. Lord Tyrell had a girl two years younger than him, barely starting to be a woman but perfectly suitable to be a wife in two or three years. Jared I, said that once she was old enough they'd have two or three new Starks running around Winterfell.

But the idea of having sex with a woman to create a new life disgusted him. His brothers like women, he knew that. The youngest one, Jay, often murmured about marrying some girl probably from the North. James, the second brother, was quieter about his preferences but once Jared saw him kissing a maid.

But Jared was different. He liked men and was perfectly comfortable with that, even if he couldn't say it to anyone.

Willard was his name. 'Will, the strong' the rest of the men called him. Willard Blackwood was 18 years old, was tall and his laughing could be heard around Winterfell every night. He was there to be part of the knights the Stark have and something he consider an honour.

Not even Jared knew how everything started but one day was looking at him and the other was kissing him. That was the final confirmation he needed to completely understand himself. During the cold and darkest nights, both boys enjoyed the mutual company. And for some months it became a tradition to find a moment to see each other.

Until his father found them. Darkblood, his sword was in his hand and the fire illuminating the way reflected on the blade. Someone told him and it was true. His firstborn and one of his knights were in a dark hallway.

Darkblood did its job. Willard's head was now near his lover's feet who was trying to understand what was happening. He was covered in Will's blood but his lips were still warm for his kisses.

"You're a disgrace," his father's voice was colder than the weather. "I should kill you."

"Then kill me," his eyes were full of tears but if someone didn't fear Lord Stark that was Jared.

"The Gods don't want that. But don't tempt me. You're not my son. You're a demon using my boy's skin. I should've known that you were going to disappoint me. You're nothing, you-"

"And you're too coward. You think you look like a fearless man and you love the fear you cause in my brothers. You love that they respect you. But I have news for you, I'm not them. I can see your soul, father, you're the same scared boy that was humiliated by his brother his whole life, aren't you? Yes, afraid of a stag in the forests? Did you pee yourself, father? You're older but you're the same pathetic boy you always was."

Lord Stark put his sword on his son's neck and pressed it against his skin. "History will remember this day as the day I spared a life just for the pleasure of seeing that person suffering the rest of their miserable existence in the Wall."

Screams from servants seeing the decapitated knight woke up the rest of the family. His mother and his brothers were looking at them while father and son were staring at each other with pure hatred.

"Get the fuck out of my sight."

He barely had time to say his brother James to stay strong for the things that were going to happen to him now that he wasn't going to be there. He didn't looked at his mother.

His heavy cape moved in the wind as he was riding to his future home: The Wall. Tears were burning his eyes. Willard deserved better.

Now, five years later he was the captain of the Night Watch. His men respected him and he was a kind leader.

Yet, his heart screamed revenge.

It's night and he's dreaming. He sees his father killing Willard once again. Only that this time he sees himself using his sword against the head of the North.

Jared opened his eyes. Now he knew what he needed to do. And he was ready for it.

He turned around in bed and looked the dark sky through his window. It was snowing. Winter is coming, he thought.

Next

Happy that a little more people know Jared. In my fics he's paired with Tommy. He's an openly homosexual irish gangster that committed patricide 👀.

@mischievouslittlecreature @peakyswritings @call-sign-shark @cillmequick @evita-shelby @hoodeddreams13 @darklydeliciousdesires @shelbydelrey

[ladymacbeths]

macbeth related posts/articles/essays masterlist

hi! here's a list of almost every single anaysis Thing I've come across in like two months of being insane about the scottish play. Most are about lady macbeth/the gender theme btw.

‘He has no children’: The centring of grief in The Show Must Go Online’s Macbeth - Gemma Allred: on the misogyny that frequently surrounds conversations around Lady Macbeth

this post by @amillionmillionvoices: Same topic as the previous one, but goes more in depth, explains ladymac’s motivations as mostly coming from love not self-serving ambition.

this post by @dukeofbookingham: also explains the prior point very prettily— that ladymac is (mostly) motivated by love, but also makes the case that many of it is guilt born from not fulfilling societal expectations

On the character of Lady Macbeth - Dr. Emil Pfundheler: paper that explains the same point made in the previous post, using the text to explain. Written in 1873 so explains gender as a dichotomy, but once you take that out, its points are very good.

Characteristics of women: moral, political, and historical - Anna Jameson: aka Why Lady Macbeth is not inherently evil— same topic and the other two, but focuses a bit on the fact that she is A Woman. Not my favorite, but worth reading I suppose. Also includes analyses of many female Shakespeare characters. It does include some very bad history in the beginning— Gruoch did not orchestrate Duncan’s murder. That’s something Hector Boece made up.

Lady Macbeth: “Infirm of purpose” (from The Woman’s Part: Feminist Criticism of Shakespeare) - Joan Larsen Klein: on how she both fits and doesn’t fit the idea of a reinassance wife— doesn’t fit because she isn’t aligned to god (this read more like a Christian analysis than a feminist one if I’m being honest), but fits them because she behaves like one, only subverts them because she’s like, the evil murder girl version of the Wife. The essay right after this one is also very good.

The Hysteria of Lady Macbeth: required reading if you wanna play her Btw not kidding. Analyzes her character thru the lens of freudian psychology. Screws up the text of the play a bit but provides an actual in-depth explanation of how sonnambulism works. Note that "hysteria" is not a current psychological diagnosis, but a symptom of other conditions. Still extremely interesting.

The Macbeths - G. K. Chesterton: analysis of their relationship, makes some interesting point on the differences of the nature of their ambition and desire to kill the king

Shakespeare’s tragic frontier; the world of his final tragedies - Willard Farnham: this one is long but oh boy does it go deep. Talks about the lore of the witches, explains historical context to find out how the real events were so screwed up, makes an interesting point about Macbeth’s conscience against Lady Macbeth’s, and lastly talks about the tragic world of Macbeth compared to other tragedies.

Women’s fantasy of manhood: a Shakespearean theme - D. W. Harding: exactly what it says on the tin, using ladymac and her skewed (and I’d call romanticized) idea of what a man is that she pushes on Macbeth. So yeah, talks about the gender theme. Also talks about Goneril from Lear, Cleopatra, and Volumnia from Coriolanus and how they fit the theme— although ladymac is the only one who goes downhill from it.

Unnatural women in William Shakespeare’s Macbeth - Elizabeth Klett: I’ll be honest I didn’t love this one a lot. Basically talks about how every woman in Macbeth defies gender roles. Doesn’t go too deep however. But the book has a ton of essays analyzing female characters in classic lit.

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Hard to Forget - Willard Hewitt x Reader

A/N: I wanted to branch out the list of characters I'd write for and since Willard is a fave of mine (I have a soft spot for dumb pretty country boys oops), I figured I'd roll with it.

Inspired by I Bet You Think About Me and Betty by Taylor Swift;

“But now that we're done and it's over, I bet you couldn't believe when you realized I'm harder to forget than I was to leave”

“But if I just showed up at your party, - Would you tell me to go fuck myself, - I’m only 17, I don’t know anything.” “Will you kiss me on the porch in front of all your stupid friends?”

pairing: Willard Hewitt (Footloose 2011) x f!reader

content/warnings: swearing, angst, Willard being a dummy, some pining, fluffy ending.

word count: 3k

“Willard, you can’t just go around kissin’ other girls and then telling me you love me, that’s not how this works!” 

“Well, maybe I dunno how any of this works, did’ya ever think that? Jeez, you’re puttin’ more rules on me than coach does for a football game, babe. Maybe I don’t wanna be in a relationship like this? I’m young, you know, I’m 19, I wanna be free and have fun while I still can. I’m gonna graduate soon and I wanna enjoy life before I get stuck workin’ a 9 to 5 somewhere. I know I’m not playin’ football when I get out, but I’m not plannin’ to be like everyone else back home and have a wife and kids and a dog before I turn 30.”

“Well then, maybe we should break up, Willard. Apparently according to you we were never anything to begin with, so it shouldn’t be too hard to call this off.” 

“Yeah, maybe we should.”

Willard’s words were like venom, stinging you as you walked away, hot tears threatening to overflow your eyes and stream down your face. You headed off to your dorm, trying your damnest to not let Willard’s indifference towards you get under your skin. You were determined to not let some country boy from a small town in Georgia break your heart, you were better than that. Before you left, you spun around on your heel and looked at him.

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself, Willard?” 

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Five years later, and you had long moved on from the cute Southern country boy who’d tried to break your heart. You’d completed your university degree in Education, worked your ass off, determined to be happy with or without your ex boyfriend. You and Willard never crossed paths again at university, and you were sure you’d never see him again. That was, until you had to return home for the weekend. Your younger sister had just turned 16, and your presence was requested, causing you to make the four and a half hour one way trip down to Athens to be there for her party. You’d moved to South Carolina after graduation, landing a job with a school district in Charleston where you were hired on as a first grade teacher. Once you arrived back home in Athens, the memories of Willard and your years at university all came flooding back. Complicating these, was when your tire blew on your car. You had to have it towed to the nearest mechanic.

When you hopped out of the tow truck, you lifted your sunglasses up from your eyes, resting them atop your head, squinting as you walked into the garage. A tall man with dark hair and a deep Southern accent with his back turned to you as he wiped his hands off called out to you. There was a sense of familiarity as he spoke, an uncomfortable feeling brewed in you as he turned around. You saw his face, and nothing about him had changed - the same hazel eyes, dark brown curls, the faint scars on his cheek and his chin now almost unnoticeable. His breath audibly hitched as he saw you. 

“Well...hi,” Willard chuckled awkwardly as he saw you, taking a moment to register everything that had changed since you’d left him.

“Hi,” You responded coldly, your arms folded across your chest as you looked at him, “My tire blew, I just need one replaced. No I didn’t have a spare, just charge it to my credit card when you’re done, ok?” 

“Well now, is that anyway to talk to your ex boyfriend?” Willard smirked playfully, that same godforsaken twinkle in his hazel eyes that always won you over before still clearly present.

“Ex for a reason, Willard.”

“Not a good one,” He admitted as he nodded his head slowly, “I-uh-I’ve been thinking.”

“After 5 years? Seems a little late.”

“Listen, darlin’, I was a stupid kid,” he began, nodding slowly, “I never wanted to hurt ya.”

“Well, you just did a damn good job of that without even trying, didn’t you?” You rebuffed his attempt to discuss further and handed him your credit card so he could put the tire repair on file with your card. 

“I’m sorry, ok?” He said softly, his voice barely a whisper as he spoke. 

“I’m not.”

“I probably deserve that, I’ll admit,” Willard sighs and shakes his head, “Let me make it up to ya, ok? Maybe I could take you for dinner some time? How long are ya here for? I can’t cook for shit still, but I remember you always loved going out to that place near the campus, I could take you there if ya’d like?”

“Thanks, but I have plans.”

“I haven’t even told you when it is yet.”

“Well I’m only home for a weekend. It’s my sister’s sweet 16.”

Willard’s face fell as he nodded slowly. He sighed softly and handed you your card back, furrowing his brow as he spoke.

“S’pose I can’t convince you then, can I?” 

“What could you possibly say to fix it after five years, Willard?

He frowned again before gazing up at the clock on the wall. He nodded slowly and turned his attention back to you before speaking again.

“I’m off in 10 minutes, if you wait for me, I’ll explain everything. If you say my explanation and apology aren’t good enough, I’ll back off and you can pretend you never even met me. I’ll even fix that tire for free first before you go back home.”

You weighed your options as Willard looked at you hopefully, almost as if he was pleading you to agree. You sighed and shook your head before pointing a finger at him.

“Don’t disappoint me, ok?

“I’ll do my damnest not to, darlin’”

After 10 short minutes, you observed as Willard punched out his time card and trodded off to the change room to discard of his dirty, grease laden clothes. He smiled as he walked out to you, wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt, his beat up old baseball cap from when you’d first met him now adorning his head. He laughed softly before turning to you once again and grinning.

“I’m impressed you waited for me,” Willard explained. 

As the two of you headed outside, you spotted his infamous beat up old pickup truck, looking as rough as ever parked outside. Willard grinned at you and laughed, “You used to love this truck, you know.”

“Yeah, when I was 19, I also loved country boys in cowboy hats who wiillingly broke my heart by kissing other girls while I thought we were dating exclusively,” You hissed at him.

If there was one thing you knew about Willard, it was that he didn’t give a single fuck if anyone didn’t like his truck. That truck was the only thing he loved more than his own mama, and Willard would spend every last dime he had to fix that awful thing just so he could continue cherishing it. He’d always been very set in his ways about everything. It was the reason why you’d split in the first place. He was so determined to “live freely” and “live his life” that he gave up anything he figured might have stopped him, including you.

“Listen, I’m sorry for what I did, yeah?” 

“So you’ve said.” 

“Just hear me out, ok? I was a stupid kid. I was 19, I didn’t know shit. I still don’t know shit at 24, but you know what I do know?” 

“How to count past 10 without taking your shoes off?” You retorted dryly.

“Hey now, I’m trying to be serious!” Willard laughed softly, “I know now that you never would have stopped me from doing whatever I had my heart set on. You would have encouraged me to just be happy. I appreciate that. I was just too stupid to pick up on that. I’m sorry I broke your heart. I also learned that you were so much harder to forget than you were to leave. Watching you walk away and hearing you tell me to go fuck myself gave me quite the ego check. And, I really did think you were the sweetest lil’ Georgia peach I’d ever met.”

You rolled your eyes as you tried to maintain your icy exterior towards him. On the inside though, you could feel your heart melt ever so slightly as he called you a Georgia peach - that had always been his saying when he thought you did something cute. He’d pat your cheek with his big hand, calloused from a combination of playing football and his studying to be a mechanical engineer, and grin at you as his thick as molasses Southern accent gushed at you. “Well ain’t you just as sweet as a Georgia Peach?” he’d always say. Half the time you figured he said it purely to make you blush. 

Willard took a step closer to you, his hazel eyes meeting with yours the way they had when you two had dated all those years ago. He sighed softly, almost happily as he saw you weren’t rejecting him this time around. His hand reached for yours slowly, his touch gentle and delicate, as if he was trying purposefully not to scare you away. He smiled softly as you allowed him to hold your hand, your lack of resistance giving him a glimmer of hope that you might have somehow found a way to forgive him. You would feel yourself wearing down against him, your cold, frozen exterior towards him melting away as he gently held your hand.

“Willard,” you frowned slightly as you looked down at his hand holding yours, trying to ignore the fact that your hand fit perfectly in his.

“Darlin’ I’m willing to do anything to prove to you that I’m not going to break your heart again if you give me the chance. I’ve spent the last five years realizing that those big dreams and aspirations I had in college weren’t going to come true without you. I never did make it out of college football, I never ended up travelling or leaving Georgia like I said I would, but, I mean, I do decently well for myself. When you left I realized you were what made me happy though - not travelling or football, or workin’ on cars. You. And when I didn’t have you to do all these things I’d dreamed of with, well, none of them seemed worth doin’ anymore.”

 You sighed softly as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. You looked up at him, meeting those gorgeous hazel eyes you’d always loved, tears welling up in your own as you gave an understanding nod of your head. 

“Now, there’s my sweet lil’ Georgia peach,” he smirked as he stroked the back of your hand with his thumb. 

A rush of memories and a sense of familiarity came rushing over you as he spoke, calling you by the pet name that always made you weak in the knees years ago. You shook your head quickly as you tried to shake the feeling of nostalgia that was overtaking you.

“I should get going.” Your voice was soft-spoken, partially feeling guilty as you spoke.

Willard swallowed hard and nodded his head, trying to not sound defeated. He gestured his hand outward, pointing towards the street, forcing a hearty laugh and a big smile as he spoke.

“Yeah, might not wanna be late, your mama’d be so mad. Bet your sister wouldn’t be none too pleased either tho, would she?”

“No, I don’t suppose they would be. My sister’s party is supposed to start in,” You frowned as you looked at your watch and shook your head, “!5 minutes. Christ, I better start walking.”

“Don’t be silly, I’ll just drive you over. Sure your mama doesn’t want you wanderin’ your way around town to get home.”

You opened your mouth to argue but quickly closed it again. You knew he had a fair point, and you’d never make it there in 15 minutes by walking. Smiling, Willard opened the door of his truck for you, gesturing to the front seat for you to hop inside. You jumped up into the seat and nodded slowly as Willard took your bag out of your temporarily non-functioning car for you, placing it in the back. He climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the key over, the engine making its unique sputtering sound as it roared to life, the old engine sounding like it was clinging to life by a thread. 

“You know, I could fix ‘er, but I just…I dunno, the sound is sort of nostalgic for me, ya know? It’s comforting,” He chuckled.

You rolled your eyes and laughed as he drove towards your parents house. You directed him along the way, but once he found himself in the familiar neighbourhoods he used to drive through to pick you up all those years ago, he didn’t need your navigation skills anymore. He smirked as he pulled up out front of your parents’ home, watching as you hopped out of the truck. He raised an eyebrow as the crowd of your family members that was congregating outside of your garage. Willard waved politely to them, recognizing a few of their faces from family functions he’d accompanied you to years ago. He parked his truck and hopped out, smiling as he looked over to you.

“I take it you never did tell your mama the truth about why we broke up, did ya?” He whispered to you as your mom waved to him from the garage.

“No, I didn’t want to her to go sharpen her pitchfork to come after you with,” You smirked at him and shrugged your shoulders, “You’re welcome.”

As you came up closer to your family, you felt Willard put his hand gently on your back. Turning to you, he smiled softly and whispered in your ear gently.

“Sorry, just trying to make it seem like we didn’t quite break up as badly as we did,” he nodded as he let out a soft chuckle.

You nodded slowly in agreement and smiled at your family members as Willard joined you. He laughed as your dad wrapped an arm Willard’s shoulders, pulling him in to talk for a moment, as he would have with an old friend. Willard gave you an apologetic smile as he shrugged, not realizing that your family would have missed his presence so much. 

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A few hours later, Willard was still hanging out at the party, unable to make a quick getaway as your family members wanted to hear about all the things he’d done over the last five years. In a way, you were glad they were so welcoming towards him once again, happy to see that he was still considered family by your loved ones. You couldn’t help but notice the butterflies you got every time you saw him smile or laugh while he spoke, like he was genuinely enjoying himself, it showed to you that what he had said earlier about missing you had been completely heartfelt. 

As everyone started to head out, you met Willard on your parents front porch, smiling softly as he held your hand again under the warm glow of the porchlight beside the door. You could feel the gaze of your family members peering through the curtains at you, all secretly and silently hoping that one of you would give a sign that you were rekindling what you’d once had together. 

“Thanks for letting me stick around, I missed seeing everyone, I missed how nice your folks are,” Willard nodded, smiling brightly at you, his cheeks turning pink as he spoke.

“I don’t think they would have given me the option to send you home without staying, to be fair.”

There was an awkward silence in the air between you two as Willard’s eyes met yours. He bit his lip softly and laughed, shaking his head, his dark brown curls becoming perfectly tossed, his discarded baseball cap shoved into his back pocket from when he sat down for dinner earlier. 

“You know, I really wanna kiss you right ‘bout now.”

“Strangely enough, you’re kinda making me wanna kiss you right ‘bout now too,” you teased.

With that, Willard put his hands on your waist, pulling you in close for a kiss. His lips were soft, with a sense of hunger and passion added to the chemistry between you. You could tell just by how his lips met with yours that he’d been craving this for the last five years. That he’d wanted nothing more than to hold you close and kiss you under the porchlight like had so many times before. And if you were being honest, you’d craved it too all these years, as much as you hated to admit it.

“So, where does this leave us then?” You raised an eyebrow at him, “‘Suppose I can’t hate you anymore if I’m letting you kiss me like that, now can I?”

“Don’t suppose you can, sweetheart. Looks like you may have to agree to datin’ me again?”

“Is that so?”

“Now come on, my lil’ Georgia peach, don’t make me get on my knees and beg you to take me back in front of your folks. You know I will.”

You laughed softly and pressed your lips to his again, murmuring into the kiss as your lips touched. 

“Come ‘ere, country boy,  you’re mine now.”

[feathersandfarmers]

"Sit there and don't make any noise, Melisha Tweedy snapped, and don't touch anything!"

She pointed with a stiff finger to the kitchen table across from her office desk. Her small niece obediently complied, much to the woman's pleasure and she turned away to begin working on her book keeping duties.

Young Kipper, peered nervously over at her Aunt Melisha as she absent-mindedly drew with her crayons. She was sure to keep the noise to a minimum, not wanting to anger that short-tempered woman who was oh-so scary and mean!

Every so often, Mrs Tweedy would exclaim unhappily, making young Kipper jolt in surprise.

Melisha was busy with the accounts, getting more and more frustrated with the results she was getting.

She was unhappy (uncomfortable) at having to watch her little niece that afternoon. Mr. Tweedy was usually the one who looked after Kipper, since he actually enjoyed having the little twerp stay over with them...he always wanted children...

However this afternoon, Willard Tweedy was busy operating some heavy machinery outside and it was safer not to have the little girl underfoot during the time.

Therefore, Melisha Tweedy kept Kipper indoors with her...thankfully, quietly coloring at the other end of the room and not pestering her.

Yeeehaww, another piece to Kipper's origin story! SO this would happen very early on in Kip's journey, maybe a few days into when she first started living with the Tweedys.

Kipper doesn't know the Tweedys very well so you'd have to imagine, being four at the time, how shy and frightened she must feel! Especially with Melisha not being the warmest host to her .

Being kind and friendly, I can imagine Willard quickly taking Kip under his care and absolutely adoring being an uncle! Knowing his wife is uncomfortable with the whole ordeal, Mr Tweedy would mostly look after Kip throughout the day...while Melisha does her own thing undisturbed.

It's bringing me a lot of comfort to draw Little Kip! with the Tweedys. Especially Kip getting used to life on the farm with her eccentric aunt and uncle haha

[ask-the-hws-immigrants]

Not to be rude or invasive or make y'all uncomfortable or anything, but where do y'all sleep? It's just that I know that Lithuania and America have slept in the same bed before.

Tolys: I'm used to sharing a space anyway, so I didn't mind when I moved in! It's convenient for everyone I suppose.

**Historical Note: Alfred has kept this home since the 1840s-1850s, a little before Molly came to the United States again. He did this because of the upheaval at the time near Washington D.C. and the personal convenience of living in New York. If D.C. is America's head, New York City is its heart after all.

There were a variety of architectural styles becoming popular at this time such as Italianate, Neoclassical, Georgian Revival, Beaux-Arts, and Gothic Revival. Many of the large homes built in New York City by the newly wealthy around this period were in the Beaux-Arts and Georgian Revival styles. I picture Alfred's home being in the Georgian Revival style like the Carnegie Mansion or the Willard D. Straight House.

Alfred's home is certainly downsized from the scale of these mansions, but has many of the rooms typical of an upper-class home of the late 19th-early 20th century. These homes were typically three to four floors, with the first floor being for entertaining company and for leisure. The reception room was for receiving guests and leaving calling cards if the homeowner was not available, while the drawing room was for entertaining guests or for the family to relax in. It was also typical for these homes to have a small-scale dining room for less formal family meals such as breakfast and a more formal dining room for entertaining guests in the evening. This smaller scale dining area was also typically where children ate when these evening events were held, and they were usually not permitted at the formal table until they reached their late teens.

Floors for guests to sleep and for the family were often separated, and in many cases the children slept on a separate floor from the adults. In very wealthy homes, there was usually a floor or space reserved for servants' quarters and passages for staff to move around the house in without being seen. In upper-class households, the husband and wife often had separate but connected rooms. This wasn't necessarily out of personal modesty, but more for the modesty of the servants who might be helping them dress. Here, Alfred and Tolys use it more for convenience. In lower-class households, it was still perfectly common and acceptable for a couple to share a room and bed.

There's certainly more that could be said about the layout of these homes, and I based these floor plans off of several historic homes I've visited and floor plans I researched online. Therefore, if there are inaccuracies or if there's anything I overlooked, my apologies!

[yestergaze]

James Cagney with his wife Frances Willard, aka Billie. They were married from 1922 until Cagney's death in 1986.

[saucetail]

willard afton! it’s half a redesign of my og au design and half how I would design him nowadays (esp because I grasp 80s fashion a bit better) :^]

assorted william talking under the cut

His main two traits which drive him and the story forward are greed and jealousy. He was jealous of Henry's "success in life" - even if he had all the same things (accomplished dream, wife, multiple children). The American Dream, basically. But unlike Henry, he doesn't feel fullfiled, he needs *more*. So he interpreted it as wanting what Henry had. William's murder of Charlie was a genuine accident, as the anger at his partner mixed with drunkenness making it all spill over at once.

But... This gave him an idea - he'd do something horrible, truly horrible, and pin the blame on Henry. Children were his target as he considered them the easist to "get rid of", as most adults and maybe even teenagers would be able to fight back. That way, he could obtain what the other had for himself. Along with complete control over the franchise, giving him all the monetary profit he could ever desire (here is where the capitalistic tendencies of the franchise root themselves in).

Now, I don't think William *enjoys* murder, especially because although I don't think he'd be an amazing father, he does have children at home. But he has somehow twisted it in his mind that it's his *obligation* to murder. So he'd probably try to make it as quick and least bloody as possible.

This would most likely mean that there's only one MCI, as William wouldn't have any reason to really do it again if Henry's not even there anymore to "get in his way". Not sure how I'll go about the timeline right now, but this is the basics for William, at least.

Also he's short, it's actually a very important detail for me. Also also yeah, it couldn't be something made by me if the ultimate real evil wasn't capitalism. Sorry about that, gov'na lol

[melishatweedy]

MISTAH TWEEDEH!: A life he wished for but didn’t get:

Willard Tweedy, a simple man, a farm, a wife, a brew and a shotgun.

Little is really said in the books about his life. However his family have been chicken farmers for generations - as we see in the film and the books - and he wants to continue egg farming, it’s all he’s ever known. We see in Mrs Tweedy’s Chicken Pies for the Soul that his uncle was killed by a chicken, which is his first glimpse of knowing the chickens are more than just “stupid creatures”. I feel like this is his only real “smart” moment. He built a fucking pie machine and didn’t know what it was. Like mate.. name’s on the boxes surely..

He’s clearly in love with Melisha, we see it in their wedding photo, the way he speaks to her, the way he questions his own sanity for her. Man’s devoted and I don’t blame him lol. There’s the slight emotional abuse with the name calling, but I absolutely hate it when they say she’s physically abusive etc.. She’s not. Yes she kicked his arse but she’s not physically abusive. Also, there’s hints that there’s still that spark between them, and I stand by my point that they were in love at one point, and they married for love (and a business prospect). (I also love the theory of the him being her beard.)

He’s clearly the comic relief of the first film, similar to Dr Fry in the second. However he’s not just the poor little abused husband people make him out to be. He’s in fact worse than Melisha to the chickens. You see him kicking and throwing ginger into “solitary confinement”, which in the real world a chicken would last mear hours -if that- before dying. He also picks them up by the neck, whereas we see Melisha (apart from handling Edwina, but she was about to be killed) picking them up by their bodies (CR:DOTN). No wonder they’re not laying eggs, they’re being handled in such ways! ALSO HE PUT A LIVE CHICKEN IN THE PIE MACHINE BOY I SWEAR TO GOD-

Anyway, my conclusion: he comes from a poor background, a farmers background and that’s all he knows, it’s all he’s ever known. He’s just as bad as Melisha when it comes to the chickens. He’s most likely seen how his father and grandfather treated the chickens and carried it on. Learnt behaviour. They’re both as bad as each other but he’s maaainly the reason the chickens aren’t laying any eggs. My theory is that after their divorce he remained in Yorkshire but moved away, has a little flat and is a farmhand on another farm, as it’s probably all he has experience wise. Hope your little flat is cosy, king!

[ill-skillsgard]

WILLARD TALK AT LAST. I miss my boy.

I feel like he would be the type of man to follow his wife EVERYWHERE. because like, he’s a big man? he feels the need to protect his dainty little woman in any way possible. Part of me also thinks that he would love to teach his wife things that he likes to do (that obviously aren’t too masculine or won’t put her in harm since it’s the 50’s you know)

But he’s a domestic life lover and i LOVE that about him…Will my beloved…🤭🤭

I can totally imagine Willard teaching his love how to split wood without hurting her back and how to load a gun in case she ever has to use it. He hammers about how she'll never need to use it because she's got him. Willard would also probably love watching her cook and offer his help when she's making cookies. He just watches over her like a hawk because he's so in love and intrigued by the little lady in his life.

Ugh, I love that lanky bastard 🥲

[brw]

I still don't give a shit what anyone else says abt Willard Smith regarding all that. You wouldn't hit someone for slandering your WIFE on live television?? Skill issue.