#jerry baynard

Like will people read it?

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 𝕵𝖊𝖗𝖗𝖞 𝕭𝖆𝖞𝖓𝖆𝖗𝖉 ── recommendations‧₊˚ ⋅

Reuni algumas das minhas fanfics favoritas do Jerry Baynard . Ele é um personagem muito querido, mesmo que não receba todo o reconhecimento que merece, e essas histórias realmente mostram o quão significativo e bem escrito ele pode ser. Por favor, leiam os avisos com atenção e, se alguma dessas fanfics tocar vocês, não se esqueçam de apoiar o autor deixando um comentário ou compartilhando o trabalho dele. ♡

Legend ✎ᝰ: A – angst | F – fluff/romance | S – smut I ~S – implied smut

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CW: self-destruction, unconfirmed relationship, hurt/comfort, time-period accurate reactions

PAIRING: Jerry Baynard/Reader

SUMMARY: You didn't know why you did that- hurt yourself when you couldn't handle it. You hated people knowing, they'd just think you were crazy just like your parents, have you sent to one of those institutes for women in the city. But what happens when one of the only people you truly have figures out what's under your sleeve?

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

☆ NOTES: Wrote this bored and because I couldn't find anything that was my taste. I decided to publish it because it was already written and why not. If anyone reads and likes this, tell me if you want a part two or send requests for any character out there!

☆ Translations for everything at end!

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The smell of the barn was overwhelming on hot summer nights, the humidity seeming to intensify the stench. You were sitting on the hard wooden floor, watching Jerry rake the remaining hay scattered around the third floor of the barn.

You didn't work for the Cuthberts as he did; you were privileged enough to have a home in Avonlea and attend school in the ragged dresses you had been wearing for years. Lucky enough to have friends and not constantly be made fun of like that one red-headed girl, Anne did, who you saw a lot more now since you came to visit Jerry every evening, as she was the Cuthberts' adopted daughter.

Poor girl, you often thought. It wasn't her fault that her social skills were so terrible.

"You're taking so long, Jerry." Your voice was a bit soft due to exhaustion, as you rested your head on your knees. "I'll just die, at this rate." You have had a long, long day and were ready to get home and cry yourself to sleep.

"Can't wait, eh?" He was used to working late at the farm; he wasn't nearly as tired as you were. The teasing tone was clear in his accent, and it made you sigh. There was a little smile on his face as he talked to you, his face smudged with dirt and sweat from his long working day.

"Oh, be quiet." You glared at him before looking down at the wooden, hay-scattered floor of the barn. "Tired, is all."

"Tired?" He questioned, and you looked up just in time to see him hanging up the rake in its respective spot to grab the broom to clean all the hay he missed. He seemed to be almost done, at least. It was one of those rare days when Mathew gave him a bit too much work, and he wasn't able to make it home before nightfall. "Why? School isn't easy?" Again, it was hard to miss that teasing tone in his voice.

He didn't take your struggles at school too seriously sometimes, and you understood why. I mean, if you had real problems like those stupid boys, he didn't make fun of you, but all those other things you complained about? It was hard for him not to smile. He was a 17-year-old boy working to provide for his family and was illiterate, just learning to read because of Anne. He had bigger things to worry about than you not understanding math well (which was a common complaint).

"Nothing like that." You leaned your head off your knees and sat up straight, your eyes following him as he swept the area he had just raked. "I'm just… not feeling it today." You sighed as your left hand rubbed your right forearm with reasonable pressure.

You felt so itchy. So, so, so itchy from the way you were rubbing your forearm against the rough tree's bark until you bled earlier today. You didn't know why you did that whenever you got stressed- hurt yourself. Whether it was pressing your arm onto a hot stove, scratching it until you saw blood, slamming it down over and over on a hard surface until you bruised. You didn't know why you did it.

Maybe you were insane, like your mom had said. You don't think you could ever forget the horror on her face when she saw your bruised, scabbed, scarred forearm without a sleeve covering it, even if you tried.

"It's okay, almost done, yeah?" He looked up from his work to give you a reassuring look like he always did when you were antsy to go home. "Can't have you walking home alone now, just wait."

He was always insistent on that. If you were staying with him, he was walking you home. You did live a bit far from Green Gables; he was just concerned about you.

No way he feels the way you do when he looks at Bella like that. The thought made your chest hurt.

Forcing yourself up from the ground, you grabbed the extra broom, ready to start sweeping alongside him so you could go home quicker, but just as you went to start, he took it from your hands, making you look up at him.

"What are you doing?" He didn't look angry or upset, just brows furrowed with slight confusion. "You're tired, eh? Go, go on and sit down." Jerry put his hands on your shoulders and guided you back to the hay you were sitting upon.

"Huh? No, it's fine, really. I can help." You turned out of his grasp and reached out for the broom again, but Jerry just held it just out of your reach, and you missed the way your sleeve rode up the tiniest bit.

"I got it, just sit, sit down." He seemed awfully adamant, but he was like that. He didn't like you working with him when you were tired (which was 24/7 these days).

"But- I can- we'd go home quicker." Your hand came up to fist in his dirtied, worn jacket, and he instinctively looked down at your hand, and it didn't flicker back up. He didn't respond to your words, either. He just… froze.

And your gaze followed his.

Your sleeve had ridden up, and the realisation hit you like a truck. There, on the back of your wrist, was a huge, dark bruise. You had gotten frustrated the other day and banged it repeatedly on your doorframe back home. But he couldn't know that.

You ripped your hand away from his jacket before he could say anything, turning your back on him and quickly pulling your sleeve to cover up your arm once more.

"Crisse!" He blurted out before you could conjure up an excuse, grabbing your arm and turning you back to face him, grabbing your arm (with a bit more pressure than necessary) and yanking up your sleeve.

It's not that he was trying to be… forceful or rough. He was just a farmboy- a hardworking one at that. He had a lot of muscle built from years of service, and at times of panic, he forgot that fact.

And by yanking up the entirety of your sleeve, he was exposed to built-up scabbing, scarring, and bruising.

How did this situation go downhill so fast?

You froze, as did he. You could tell, based on the way you felt his hand tense around yours.

"W-Was it… those boys you talk about?" His accent was thicker due to emotions, stuttering a bit as he struggled to put his words together, his grip on your hand tightening. "I-"

"No." You cut him off. You didn't want him to know, then he'd just think you're insane, just like your parents. He'd avoid you then, too. Just like how your mom or dad barely acknowledge you anymore. You made a futile attempt to pull your hand away, but as expected, it didn't work. "Accidents. Just accidents." You didn't meet his eyes- out of guilt for lying or shame from baring them in the first place, or maybe both.

"Accidents?" He repeated incredulously, tilting his head as he tried to get you to look at him, but you were stubbornly avoiding his gaze. "Bordel de merde, __." You didn't know what that meant, but you were too preoccupied to question him.

"I mean it!" Your voice rose a bit, giving another attempt to yank your hand from his. "Even if it wasn't- which it is, it is none of your concern!" Despite your best attempts, he wasn't letting up his stupid grip.

"H-Huh? I-It's none of my what?" His voice rose with yours. "Are we l-looking at the same thing!? Your arm looks… well, terrible!" He mumbled something in French again under his breath, flipping over your arm to look at the other side- a wince leaving his throat when he saw it. His English got a lot worse when he… well, wasn't calm.

"Nothing, nothing!" Your eyes narrowed into a glare, "Let go of me!"

Jerry, who hadn't realised his grip had been so tight, quickly let go of your hand like you had burned him by saying that, looking at you with those wide eyes that broke your heart.

"It's not nothing!" He protested, his expression morphing into frustration. "How could you- ugh-." He turned away, struggling to piece his words together due to his frustration.

You hated arguing with people- you hated arguing with him. No matter how angry you got and no matter how much you wanted to scream and lash out, deep in your heart, you just wanted everyone to like you. You hated the thought that anyone was concerned for you, was annoyed with you, or anything of the sort. You couldn't handle losing another person because you probably would be better off in a psych ward, like your parents said.

Jerry didn't finish his work that night- he'd have to come early the next morning to complete it, but he didn't mutter a sound of complaint about the fact. He just dragged you to the first floor of the barn, where Mathew kept a first-aid kit that was probably years old, filled with old scraps that were probably discarded from Marilla's sewing projects.

He was quite experienced in all that, taking care of others because he had such a large family.

The silence was loud. So loud. Sitting on a wooden bench near Bella's stable, him sitting across from you with the kit and a candle between you both, tightly wrapping the scraps around your injured left arm. He didn't look up at you- not once. No hint of the bold, teasing person he regularly was.

Everything happening made you want to die from sheer shame and mortification. You're screwed now, for sure. He'd think you're crazy and he'd never talk to you again and-

"I'm not stupid." His words were clearer than when he spoke last, displaying that his mind had gotten calmer. "I can't go to school or nothing, but I know this didn't happen because of those… accidents." He didn't look at you as he spoke, tying off the white cloth with a knot and getting another to properly wrap your arm.

You didn't respond for a long moment- you felt as if you couldn't. What could you say? What was there to say? You couldn't blame someone else and drag them into this, and he obviously didn't believe it was an accident. What the hell could you do?

"It's fine." You eventually mumbled, your gaze watching how the cloths covered the skin you had made such a mess of. "Nothing to worry about, so please just… don't."

The wrapping of cloth paused for a brief moment, as if he wasn't happy with that answer, before continuing.

"…Those… those boys you talk of from school?" He was talking about Billy and his annoying friends, who were just annoying from time to time; he heard about them quite a bit from your complaints. But they had never laid a hand on you, and you didn't have it in you to lie that they did.

"No-" You started, trying to tell him to leave it again, but he cut you off.

"The girls?" He stopped in his tracks, looking directly in your eyes for the first time, and he took you to the first floor to wrap you up.

"No-!" You didn't like getting cut off, and you weren't appreciating the fact that he was doing it in a situation like this. God, couldn't he just listen!?

"Your mother? Your father?" His voice rising and brows furrowing as he spoke, his calmness from earlier quickly fading, "Who-!"

"Me!" You all but screamed, but the second you did, your heart dropped.

Your anger got the best of you sometimes. When you got really upset, you often couldn't control your words and actions, but this? This was a new line you crossed by blurting that out. He'd think you're fucking crazy now- like anyone would think after finding this out.

He visibly froze, his eyes widening and his shoulders tensing as he just… stared at you, and you did nothing but stare back. His eyes weren't filled with anger or anything of the sort; his face was just… blank.

It was you attempting to pull your arm from his hand that snapped him out of that state, his hand quickly tightening around your arm so you couldn't pull away, his blank face shifting into one of horror.

Just like how your mom’s was that night.

He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it before opening it again.

"You… what? I don't understand."

His tone broke your stupid, fragile heart.

"Just- nothing." You tore your gaze away from his face, making another attempt to pull your arm from his grip, but just like last time, it didn't work. You felt that oh-so familiar lump begin to form in your throat, your vision starting to blur rapidly as your face contorted. Fuck, this was so embarrassing.

You felt his grip loosen a bit, but for some reason, you didn't pull away. Maybe you were so in your head you didn't notice, or maybe deep down you wanted his touch at the moment. You heard a sharp inhale fill his lungs as he looked at you with those stupid, wide eyes of his, while you avoided looking at him as much as you could in the moment.

"It's nothing, nothing." You tried to repeat, but if your face wasn't enough, your broken, barely audible voice gave away the fact that you were near tears, and to make matters worse, those tears in your eyes started to fall down your cheeks, dropping onto the scraps covering your injuries on your arm.

You couldn't say you expected it when he pulled you in for a hug. One of those bone-crushing hugs that takes you by so much surprise you lose your breath for a moment. You felt him bury his face in your hair, mumbling under his breath words you couldn't understand. You would have tried, but the attempt became futile once your body began to shudder and sob, your hands coming up to grip his worn jacket, hiding your face in his front.

Jerry didn't understand… this. He didn't understand you. How could he? How could you hurt yourself like that, and how the hell did he never know ever after you visited him every day? He thought he'd notice if you changed… or, at least, he hoped anyway.

But maybe Jerry didn't know you as well as he thought he did.

☆☆☆☆

TRANSLATIONS:

Crisse ~ French-Canadian, literal meaning could translate to 'Christ' but it is more commonly used as 'fuck'.

I wrote this when I first started watching awae in 2021. found it in my drafts on wattpad and decided to post it on here.

Billy Andrews x reader

masterlist

Billy Andrews was insufferable. He was rude, irritating and extremely cocky. You hated him, and every little thing he did annoyed you - whether it was him tugging on your hair as you hung your hat and coat in the cloakroom at school, or whether it was him simply breathing too loud. You hated him, he hated you, and that was that.

And so, when it was your turn to spin the bottle in Josie's childish game, you were utterly furious when the glass bottle landed on Billy. “No. No way. Absolutely not. I’m not doing this." You protested, shaking your head.

"Awww come on now Y/N, rules are rules." Billy smirked at you and stood up in the middle of the circle your classmates had created.

"Such stupid rules." You mumbled to no-one in particular, glancing over at Diana and Anne - both of whom gave you sympathetic looks. You stood up hesitantly and glared at the bottle on the floor.

You whipped your head to face Josie and gave her a pleading look, however she only raised her eyebrows expectingly at you. Clenching your jaw, you turned to Billy and shuffled towards him.

Once you were close enough, Billy leant in and whispered in your ear, "Come on Y/N, what are you so afraid of? It's just a kiss."

You narrowed your eyes at him and whispered back angrily, "I'm not afraid of kissing. However I am afraid of kissing you. You probably have some kind of incurable disease. I wouldn't want to catch it. It may give me your huge ego, or worse, your attitude."

Billy scowled and was about to retaliate when Josie cleared her throat and said, "Can the two of you hurry up and get on with it?”

Charlie, one of Billy’s friends, gestured to the rest of your classmates, “Yeah, we’re all waiting for you guys.”

Rolling your eyes you leant in close to Billy who cupped your cheek with his hand. You sucked in a sharp breath and glanced up to find Billy staring at you curiously, as if he was expecting you to back off and punch him in the gut. When you didn't back away, he allowed your mouths to brush ever so softly before capturing your lips with his.

As he kissed you, warmth filled you from head to toe, and butterflies erupted in your stomach. You allowed your eyes to flutter shut, and your hand instinctively travelled to the back of his neck - thus pulling him closer to you.

The kiss was soft and sweet. And because it was your first kiss, it was everything you had dreamt it would be like. You felt torn and confused, you hated Billy! However you couldn't ignore the feeling of bliss that fell upon you when your lips met his.

And then, as quickly as the kiss had started, it was over. You pressed your palms against Billy's chest and softly pushed him away. His face was flushed and his lips were swollen ever so slightly - you could only assume you looked the same.

Diana coughed quietly and you shook your head lightly as if to shake yourself from your daze. You quickly sat back down in the circle next to Ruby and began brushing invisible dust off the skirt of your dress, whilst ignoring the snickers from your friends. Billy swallowed thickly and wiped his hands on his trousers before sitting back down. He snook a glance at you quickly before moving his gaze back to the bottle.

“Okay," Josie said, clasping her hands together and allowing her eyes to travel over the faces in the room, almost like a lion scouring for prey. A small smirk graced her lips as her eyes locked on her next victim of the game. “Anne's next."

pairing: jerry baynard x fem!reader

tags: wholesome fluff, gardener jerry, rich girl x poor boy, mentions of eloping together, reader has multiple suitors

jerry had been working for your family for a while, looking after the flowers in the garden and doing some work on the fields

your family was rich and stuck up, always looking down on the boy. but you always admired and envied jerry, for the freedom he had

you knew you'd eventually be married off to a man you didn't love, while jerry could pick his partner freely. yet what you didn't know at that time was that the girl jerry wanted was you!

you always watched him when he worked in the garden, while jerry watched you when you were reading a book outside by the flowers. the garden was the only place the two of you ever met and got any alone time

your relationship started with some small talk, about the flowers blooming near you and the books you liked to read. but quickly, you realized how much the two of you had in common!

you began to seek each other out at any opportunity. you helped jerry with the flowers and lent him your books. soon, feelings began to blossom between the two of you!

you had your first kiss near the roses in the garden, your faces hidden behind a book, as jerry stole your first kiss. ever since then, that spot became the place you'd meet and spend time at

you always had to be careful that your parents, nor any of the other people working at the mansion didn't spot you two! if anyone saw you two, you'd be in grave trouble!

sometimes, when your parents were out of town or away for an evening, you'd sneak jerry into the mansion, showing him the book shelves in your room and treating him to all the best food he never ate before!

those moments always felt so domestic and precious. almost as if, even for just a moment, you got to be a normal couple

jerry always listened to you vent about the men your parents introduced you to and the two of you came up with plans on how to get rid of them, so you wouldn't have to marry any of those suitors

for now, those plans always worked. and while nobody said it out loud, both of you were worried that eventually, you'd be forced to marry one of those men!

but even then, jerry swore to run away with you, before that could ever happen! he started saving up some money and even if you had to live in poverty, at least the two of you could stay together!

I'm drawing my beloved boy again