Jan 26
memories of geocities
seen from Lithuania
seen from Germany
seen from Lithuania
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from Türkiye
seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Finland
seen from China
seen from Germany
seen from Australia
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
memories of geocities
hi there could you do a walker Scobell x reader one with them at press tour but their in an established relationship
walker scobell x fem!reader
Warnings : pda, i think fluff???
ᶜᵘᵗᵉ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ ʷ ʸ/ⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃˡᵏᵉʳ ᵈᵒᶦⁿᵍ ᵖʳᵉˢˢᵎᵎ
____
ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏɴᴇ
The hotel lobby is buzzing cameras flashing, voices overlapping but walker barely notices any of it.
Y/N shivers beside him arms tucked into the sleeves of her outfit without thinking walker slips off his jacket and drapes it over her shoulders like it’s second nature.
a fan nearby whispers “did you see that?” another snaps a picture.
Walker grins when Y/N looks up at him mock annoyed. “What?” he says. “You know exactly what” she reply tugging the jacket tighter.
ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ
during an interview their chairs are placed just a little too far apart.
walker fixes that immediately dragging y/ns chair closer until their knees brush the interviewer is mid question when walker leans over and whispers something that makes Y/N laugh.
“What was that?” the interviewer asks.
“uh inside joke,” walker says trying (and failing) to look innocent.
the comment section under the video later explodes over how naturally he leans toward y/n the entire interview.
ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ
halfway down the carpet Y/N’s smile fails too many cameras too many eyes.
walker notices almost instantly.
he doesn’t stop walking doesn’t make it obvious he reaches out pinky brushing against hers a small squeeze.
Y/N’s shoulders relax her smile returns.
A photographer captures the exact second their hands intertwine and the photo goes viral within minutes.
ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ғᴏᴜʀ
backstage it’s chaotic stylists calling names assistants rushing around.
Walker is already wearing a hoodie but when he notices Y/N rubbing their arms he tugs it over his head and drops it into their hands.
“you’ll get cold” Y/N protests.
Walker shrugs already visibly shaking. “I’ll survive.”
☙ . ⁻ ᴹʸ ᵐᶦᵍʰᵗʸ ᵐᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶦˢᵗ
i got lazy in the end can u tell?? like im so sleepy rn but anywhooo massive kiss on the forehead!! 💓💓💓
rough hands, soft chains [masterlist] r.cameron
[warnings] dark!rancher!rafe x bimbo!cowgirl!reader, arranged marriage, rancher au, manipulation, size difference, DUBCON/NONCON, virgin!reader, rafe is HUGE, breeding kink READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+
Summary: In which your dying father struck a deal with Ward Cameron, he promised the family land in exchange for your safety. But protection comes with a price, and that price is Rafe Cameron.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Epilogue
Extras:
chapter 3 ending: reader's pov
rafe cameron masterlist
Building the hand and torch of the Statue of Liberty, Paris, 1876.
Under Construction I
Read Under Construction here | ~5.6k
From Me: this is going to be a bit of a slow burn, totally unsure how many parts it will be and how on earth it's going to go. I have no end in mind right now or any climactic parts. P.S. I had to give her a last name, I couldn't see a way to get around it, but I tried to pick on that would match the nickname Harry was going to give her.
Warning: fluffy, cute, maybe a little angsty in my teacher-brain mind.
Summary: Harry nodded. “I’d be happy t’help.”
“Oh, that’s completely unnecessary,” she assured him. “I can’t imagine you really want to be here after a long day of manual labor on a Friday no less and—”
“Miss Bird, I would imagine s’not nearly as draining as trying t’wrangle and keep the attention of twenty-something six-year-olds, for six hours a day,” he interrupted and looked at her knowingly. “M’happy t’help.”
“Miss Bee! DJ took my crayon right out of my hand!” She turned from the table of four she was working with and glanced behind her to see DJ coloring and Janie pouting. She sighed.
“Janie, my love, there’s more crayons in the craft drawers,” she reminded her.
“But I was using that one!”
“I know, and DJ, you know better than to take something out of someone’s hand while they’re using it, please give it back,” she said knowingly. He frowned and dropped the crayon on the table. “Thank you,” she nodded appreciatively and turned back to her table.
“Miss Bee, I think DJ like-likes Janie,” Mae giggled.
“Ew,” Kaleb wrinkled his nose.
“It’s not polite to gossip, Mae,” she said knowingly. “Now can you guys tell me what’s wrong with this sentence?” She asked and held the whiteboard out. She watched the eight pairs of eyes scrutinize the marker.
The other students were at their stations learning and discovering. It was the last round of rotations. When the little bell chimed from the countdown on her SmartBoard they would head to the carpet for story time.
Her classroom was the stuff of dreams—or at the very least her dream. There were colorful posters around the room. Inspirational messages and words of kindness all about her space. The cubbies were filled with lunch boxes and snacks. Their little closet spaces hung their fall coats and backpacks. When they headed to lunch, she would sift through their take-home folders and make sure to gather notes and questions from parents and fill it with the weekly letter she sent to their family.
It was her fourth year of teaching kindergarten, and she loved it so much. The kids were so happy to see her each day, and it felt like she had a family of twenty. Each of her students was so sweet and lovely. This year she had really felt she had won the lottery with how good they were. Over the weekend she missed them. On holidays she was antsy about coming back to school and ask how they enjoyed their family time.
She was exhausted too, there was no doubt about that. Little ones were needy—over the smallest of things. Like the crayon stealing. Or the tummy aches. Sometimes the six-year-olds were just overtired or overstimulated and needed a hug.
But even her toughest kids loved her too. The parent night held just a couple weeks into the school year told her that. “He has never been excited for daycare or for school, but he is so excited for this year of kindergarten.”
The timer sounded off and like little, adorable robots her sweet students picked up their stations and settled all the items they were using back into place. She thanked her current group, and she marked where the current four were so she could pick up where they left off on Monday.
The group of students hurried to the carpet, sitting cross legged on the colorful squares. “All my friends love to sit quietly on a primary color while we wait for story time!” She had a lilt in her voice that wasn’t quite singing, but perhaps close to it. She watched as the students giggled helping each other remember what a primary color was as they all shifted around the rectangle looking for a spot. What they didn’t know is it helped spread them out a bit and would help them keep their hands to themselves while they waited much more patiently than any six-year-old had a right to.
“All my friends love to be super quiet,” she whispered putting her fingers to her lips. “We have to pick our friend who will lead us through the opener for the day,” she reminded them.
They all put their fingers on their lips; their eyes hopeful of being chosen. She pulled a popsicle stick from a cup and pulled out the name. “Milo,” she grinned. “Would you like to lead us today?” She always gave them a choice. Sometimes the little ones were much too shy.
He grinned shyly. “Okay, Miss Bee.”
She sat on her chair; a rocking one she thrifted from a local shop. A lot of her classroom was that way. A teacher on a budget. Organizing drawers and old bins that were a little worn and loved. Bookshelves that had been found at garage sales and even her office chair wasn’t brand new.
But she loved it and her students loved it too.
She watched Milo walk up to the board where she had everything spelled out for him and she waited patiently for him to read. “Today is Friday, October 5th,” he said softly. “We have art at specials time today,” his voice got quieter with his nerves of speaking in front of his whole class. A small snicker started and she turned to the culprit narrowing her eyes at him not harshly, but enough to make him know she meant business. The little one silenced himself and she returned her attention to Milo.
“Isn’t Milo doing a great job?” She whispered to the little one beside her.
Milo pushed his shoulders back a little and continued. “Today we’re going to start Char-lotties Web.”
“Good job sounding that out Milo!” She cheered. “It’s a tough name. It’s called Charlotte’s Web. Can everyone say that?”
She waited while everyone repeated, and Milo continued.
“It’s the thirty-seventh day of school.”
She watched all the little ones with rapt attention on their classmate while he read through the daily schedule. This was his second go around and by the end of the year she anticipated he would do it with ease and no anxiety. He was adorable, just like the rest of her group.
“Before we have our little math lesson we’re going to read the first chapter of Charolotte’s Web. Based on the title and the picture on the front does anyone have any guesses about what the story is about?”
A fleet of hands shot into their air and she smiled. She was a lucky teacher. “Hadley, do you have an idea?” She asked.
“A spider,” she wrinkled her nose.
“I know,” she agreed dramatically. “We all know how much Miss Bee hates spiders.” The class giggled as she pulled the book from the shelf. “Can anyone tell me who the author is?” She asked holding the book out for everyone to see clearly. “Raise your hand!” She added as they all opened their mouths to say it.
The little hands fluttered into the air again and right as she spoke Amara’s name, a loud bang sounded from outside. The little ones screamed; their eyes filled with horror as they were clearly terrified by the loud noise. It even spooked her so she went to investigate.
“Shh, shh,” she whispered. “It’s okay,” she placed the book on her chair and headed toward the window. Instantly her eyes were drawn to the construction crew next door dropping piles of wood and building materials. Fuck, she mouthed to herself and if the kids weren’t so freaked out, they might have noticed her saying the bad word in the reflection of the glass. “Don’t worry everyone, it’s just the construction workers.”
“Construction paper isn’t that loud Miss Bee,” Mae frowned. “It sounded like an elephant fell down!”
The rest of the class giggled, and she smiled. “I suppose it did,” she hummed. The noise continued. The sound of trucks backing up and the like. It was going to be a long few months of work and trying to teach at the same time. “Construction workers, my love, not paper,” she corrected. “It’s people who make buildings and things.”
They chatted behind her to one another offering instances in which they had seen construction done in their neighborhoods or that their uncle was a construction worker. Or that even they had helped their mom and dad with some work around the house.
For a few moments she considered her next plan of action. She briefly turned to the schedule Milo was reading. A quick detour and impromptu lesson on future career options, math in motion, and communication skills, could be managed and even helpful if it meant she could convince her class there wasn’t anything to be scared of nor would they need to find the noise distracting if they knew what it was and could work on tuning it out.
“Alright guys and gals, why don’t we put on our coats and see what our neighbors are up to?” she said with the air of going on an adventure while she grabbed her own coat from the small thin closet behind her desk. It housed her school bag, her coat, and her lunch bag.
The kids all hustled excitedly to put on their coats while she called the main office to let them know she would be outside with her class, and she was bringing the walkie talkie in case of an emergency. Tyler was line leader, so he led the group behind her, and her line ender was Zara making sure the back half of the group was okay too. They walked in a straight line and followed one another at about an arm’s length. A trick she learned in student-teaching so her students wouldn’t want to touch one another with excitement.
They headed outside and they played a couple rounds of eye spy as they made their way up the path toward the parking lot. She turned around, walking backwards grateful of her early morning outfit choice today was pants with comfy shoes and not a dress and her favorite wedge booties. “All my friends love to be really careful near the parking lot, and listen to Miss Bee so no one gets hurt,” she reminded them. “All of my friends know they have to listen to Miss Bee or they will not have show and tell this week.”
They all zipped their lips and threw away the key as they walked toward the fence where the playground’s baseball field turned into the driveway next door where the construction was beginning. The little ones all oohed and ahhed over the big trucks and pressed their faces against the chain link fence as the materials were brought into the area.
“Wow, that’s the biggest truck I’ve ever sawed,” Brayden whispered.
“Ever seen, my love,” she corrected gently. “Okay, who can tell me one thing they’ve never seen before and have a question about?”
Immediately hands flew up into the air but before she could call on anyone, they were interrupted.
“They told me we were going t’have a young crew for this job, didn’t think everyone would be this young.”
She turned her attention to the man approaching the fence and she felt her heart flutter like a hummingbird against her chest. The man was tall, sinewy from being part of a construction crew and doing all the manual labor, she was sure. He wore a T-shirt with the company’s logo across the front Under Construction that stretched perfectly over muscular pectorals. A white hard hat was on top of his head but she could see swirls of brown hair peeking out from underneath. There were the standard work boots and pants of a construction worker on his lower half but that was all she really noted of his body.
It was his face that drew her in. His eyes, his smile, even his eyebrows seemed to catch her interest. His face had the slightest scruff on his cheeks and over his top lip. He was deadly handsome and she momentarily forgot she and her little ones were the only thing there. “We’re not here to work,” Mae giggled.
She shook her head and smiled. “No, sorry we can’t be part of the crew,” she said apologetically.
“We were going to do math, but Miss Bee wanted to show us the scary noises,” Milo explained bravely.
“Ah,” he caught her eye. Did his smile grow? She must have imagined it. Was it hot out? It was early October, and the nice fall breeze was blowing a chill in the air, and she felt like she was about to sweat through her clothes and wish she hadn’t worn her jacket. Holy shit, he was hot. “Are you Miss Bee then?”
“It’s actually Miss Bird,” Kai explained. “But Miss Bee is a nickname.”
“Bird,” he repeated. “Nice to meet you, Miss Bird,” he held his hand out. “I’m Harry, Harry Styles.”
“Harry,” she answered. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Styles.”
He smirked at the formality but held her hand an extra second longer before letting go. Surely, she imagined that.
Harry saw the gaggle of children and the woman alongside them about five minutes prior as they approached the fence between the playground and the building site. “We got company boss,” Niall smiled while he moved some of the materials across the site with the help of his forklift. Harry turned toward the group and was in awe of the woman that could wrangle a group of little ones like that so effortlessly. As he got closer he became a little more entranced by her. She was all bright colors, her pants were firetruck red, and her jacket was a bright pink. She had an off-white bandanna or wrap in her hair of some kind that came to a knot at the top of her head from underneath her hair. She was beautiful. Obviously. Harry thought she was lucky she didn’t teach older kids because they would probably get nothing done staring at the pretty woman for hours on end. She looked so young too—no way older kids would take her seriously. But the little ones seemed to adore her, waiting patiently while they looked on with fascination.
She held a walkie-talkie in her left hand while she shook Harry’s hand during introductions.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off her smile and the way she looked fondly at her students while he introduced himself.
“We didn’t mean t’scare you all. We’re putting in a new fire and police station here t’keep you safe,” he explained to the little ones. “The noises y’heard were us putting the materials down.”
They all watched expectantly, waiting for him to continue. “Could they ask a question?” She smiled sweetly at him. “They’re waiting for you to say they can ask questions; it’s kind of a thing in the classroom,” she wrinkled her nose so cutely as she explained.
“Oh—right, yeah,” he chuckled. Harry wasn’t totally sure how a group of six-year-olds could have questions about what very little they had seen thus far, but he couldn’t wait to hear it. “Of course...do y’have questions?” Harry felt a little silly not seeing what inquisitive little minds she was molding behind the fence barrier.
However, all twenty hands shot into the air. She giggled and shook her head. “We aren’t getting to all the questions,” she laughed. “Mae, you can start,” she said.
One of the girls in the middle turned to Harry. “Why’s your hat white?”
“It means I’m in charge of everyone over there,” he explained. “It’s called being a foreman.”
“So, you’re like Miss Bee, she’s in charge of us,” Mae reminded him.
“Yes, just like Miss Bee,” he agreed catching her eye. She bit the inside of her lip and glanced at her line of students.
“Milo, do you have a question to ask?”
The boy toward the end of the line looked shyly at Harry and he grinned before looking at his feet. He mumbled something toward the ground and Harry took a few steps closer, bending in front of the fence. “Can y’repeat that for me, lad? I didn’t catch it.”
“How do you know where to put stuff?” He asked.
“We have maps and outlines of where stuff is going to go,” Harry grinned.
“It’s kind of like the maps we made of towns, remember?” She prompted. “Where we would put the school, the houses—”
“The ice cream shop!” Someone else called out from the other end of the line. The rest giggled and she nodded with her beautiful, ever-present smile.
“Yes, the important things if you recall,” she glanced at Harry apologetically. “One more question, then we have to head back inside for snack time.”
“But Miss Bee! I have a lot of questions!” DJ pouted.
“Me too!”
“I do too!”
The chatter started to become a little loud and overwhelming as they reminded her that they had many questions for Harry and he smirked at her as she shook her head. “All my friends love to turn on their listening ears and turn off their voices,” she practically sang. Instantly, they were soundless.
“Wow,” Harry murmured. “I should try that on my crew.”
They all giggled, and she smiled at him apologetically once more. “Zara, do you want to ask your question?” She asked.
“How do you know what tool to use?”
“It depends on what y’have t’do, but I had t’learn which tool t’use by going t’school,” he explained.
“You went to school too!?”
“That was another question!”
“It doesn’t count!”
“Miss Bee!”
“Hey, hey, hey! Hocus pocus,” she called gently.
“Time to focus!” They all silenced themselves.
“Wow,” Harry was in awe of her. That was almost superhero powered in nature.
“Mr. Harry, could we write our questions down to have you answer?” Tyler asked.
“That’s a great idea Tyler, but Mr. Styles has to—”
“I would love t’do that,” he offered immediately and caught her eye. “This project is going t’be a while,” he explained.
“Mr. Harry,” Janie asked pulling on his pant leg through the fence. “Could you fix Miss Bee’s desk? It’s all crooked,” she explained.
“Janie, my love,” she said softly, her cheeks turning the same shade of pink as her jacket. She was adorable and Harry was putty already. “That’s not very polite to ask. Mr. Styles is working,” she explained. “It would be like asking you to do your adding while you’re doing your sentences.”
Harry grinned almost apologetically as he caught her eye once more. “I could take a look at it,” he offered. “When does school get out?”
“Oh, that’s okay—”
“We line up for the bus at three-fifteen. That’s when the clock looks like this,” and they all turned to put their hands together to the left of their bodies, surely to mimic the hands of the clock where indeed, it would look like three-fifteen.
Harry grinned. She was a cool teacher to teach all these inquisitive little minds. “All my friends love to thank Mr. Styles for taking time out of his day to teach us about construction work,” she said knowingly and looked at him once more.
“Thank you, Mr. Harry,” they all sang.
“I said Mr. Styles.”
“But Mr. Harry is like a nickname, like you Miss Bee.”
She rolled her eyes. “Alright, Tyler, are you ready to lead?” She asked and waved to Harry.
As the line departed, he watched until he couldn’t see the pretty woman or the cute little ones any longer before he turned back to his job site. Niall rolled over on his forklift once more and popped out of the seat to stand beside him. “How was kindergarten?” He asked.
“They’re funny,” he smirked. “And very cute.”
“The kids or the teacher?”
“Both,” he shook his head, smiling to himself. “Get back t’work,” he mumbled and headed toward the other workers.
*
Harry watched the little ones boarding their buses and their teachers wave from below the overhang of the drop-off port as the kids left for the weekend. He could see the bright red pants and pink jacket from where he stood by the fence once more and a few students called out to him. “Bye Mr. Harry!”
She turned instantly and found him there. Harry’s crew was also leaving (trying to beat the buses before they got stuck behind) but Harry was without his hat now, waiting by the fence. He waved to the little ones, feeling a bit like a superstar with all the eyes that looked over at him. But he swore he could feel the pretty woman’s eyes boring into him more than the others.
He hopped over the fence now that the children were on the buses and parents had their children in cars. “Hi,” he smiled as he approached her. Her pretty lips parted ever so slightly in surprise. Her eyes scanned his face for recognition as to why he would be approaching her after the kids had left. “M’here t’look at your desk,” he explained.
“Oh!” She shook her head. “That’s okay. It’s Friday. I’m sure you have better plans than—”
“I don’t mind,” he offered with a shrug.
“Um...” she swallowed. “It’s really alright, I don’t want to put you out—”
“S’very okay, Miss Bird,” he teased. “M’happy to take a look.”
She nodded. “Okay, well...we just have to get you signed in at the office.”
“Sure,” he smiled.
“Do you have your license?” She asked.
He nodded and followed after her. They stopped at the front of the office, one of the older women greeting and going through the spiel of being a visitor. “Will you be here often?” She asked. “We could do a background check to make things simpler.”
“Oh, he’s just working nex—”
“That would be great, thank you, ma’am.”
She pressed her lips together, but Harry swore he could see the corners of her mouth twitching upward. Harry quickly filled out the information on the form and once he had a visitor tag on the front of his shirt, he followed her down the hall. The school was definitely older. It was part of the reason the safety buildings were getting an upgrade. The whole town was a bit older. They were silent as she led down the hall, her arms crossed over her stomach, he followed her down a stairwell and they stopped as a custodian greeted her.
“Hi Miss Bee, staying late today?” He asked.
She nodded. “Yeah, I think so. I’ll keep my mess to a minimum,” she promised.
“Not a problem Miss Bee,” he was a bit older too. Clearly, he was used to seeing her around after hours. Late? How late did she stay? It was Friday. Didn’t teachers race to get out of the building on Fridays?
“I like to set up my classroom for next week,” she explained. “It’s a little easier to have everything planned out.”
“Well, I won’t keep you,” he promised.
“You really didn’t have to do this,” her cheeks flushing pink once more. “I’m a little embarrassed,” she explained unlocking her classroom door.
“S’nothing t’be embarrassed ‘bout. M’happy t’take a look.”
“I guess...but they shouldn’t have said anything. Six-year-olds. You can’t tell them anything.”
He chuckled. “S’fine,” putting his hands in his pockets as she pushed the door open. It felt like being transported into another world. A bright, colorful, sunny world. There were windows overlooking the yard separating the building and a soccer field. There were string lights around the top of the wall, along with floor lamps placed around the room as well. There was almost a separate room for her colorful carpet where an old rocking chair was situated in front of the whiteboard. On the other side of the room were her play items for the kids as well as tables and little chairs for her kids. There was artwork and displays of all her students’ work around every free space of the walls. All organized and stapled properly at regular spaced intervals.
Harry would have loved being her student, he thought, but he was glad he could get to know the pretty lady as she was right now.
At the back of the class near another door, there was her desk. Underneath one of the legs was a stack of old books. Harry frowned. It was very crooked.
“It’s really not as bad as it looks. I like to believe I’m pretty resourceful so that was one of the easier fixes of the classroom.”
He sucked his cheek a bit and nodded. “Is there anything else you’d like me t’look at?”
She shook her head. “No, really. It’s okay, this is too much as is,” she said hurriedly. It was hardly anything. “You’ve had a really long day.”
But as if her classroom knew that Harry was there, the wooden sign above the door they just walked through fell off the wall. He smirked while her cheeks turned another shade redder and she winced practically with her whole body. “M’happy t’look around,” he offered. “You’re here late?” He asked and knelt beside her desk inspecting it. It was old. A fairly solid wooden structure but Harry could see it was made mostly of cheap particle board. There was no way that this was up to the fire code instructed by the public buildings in town.
“Uhh...yeah. I have to make copies and cut some stuff out for my new bulletin board,” she explained. “I also like to do a little extra cleaning on Fridays. The custodians have a lot to do so I try to do my fair share,” she went to the little closet behind her desk built into the wall. The door stuck a bit as she pulled it open and she hung her pink jacket up and pulled out a broom and disinfectant wipes.
Harry nodded. “I’d be happy t’help.”
“Oh, that’s completely unnecessary,” she assured him. “I can’t imagine you really want to be here after a long day of manual labor on a Friday no less and—”
“Miss Bird, I would imagine s’not nearly as draining as trying t’wrangle and keep the attention of twenty-something six-year-olds, for six hours a day,” he interrupted and looked at her knowingly. “M’happy t’help.”
She watched Harry for a few moments surprised by how kind he was to a complete stranger. “Could I take these drawers out?” He asked.
“Um...” she swallowed. “If you can open them.”
He tilted his head at her with a smirk. “Is there a point t’having this desk?”
“I found it at a yard sale. It’s kind of my thing,” she explained. “Most of the shelves, chairs, et cetera are from yard sales. I’m a teacher on a budget kind of thing. They just need some TLC. I say I’m going to do it over the summer, but I tutor a bunch, babysit, and whatnot so I haven’t had the time. This is my fourth year of teaching so I’m hoping this summer will be different now that I won’t be preparing lessons much now that I know what I’m doing for the most part.”
Harry watched her as she spoke, a gentle smile on his face. God, she was cute. Without her coat, she was wearing a blue almost denim looking shirt and she looked so adorable he wanted to pick her up and twirl her around like she was a princess. “I think you’re a superhero,” he told her.
Her face flushed once more and she turned to the tables lower than any normal table Harry had ever sat at (especially for his tall frame) and she knelt to wipe the surfaces. Harry turned to the desk letting her settle with the compliment he offered. He tugged the drawers out, with effort. A piece of particle board splintered a bit but given the drawer was empty, he didn’t think she would mind much. But Harry would rather build her a new desk altogether. “I don’t sit much,” she added.
“Mm,” he hummed. “Shouldn’t take an act of God t’get a drawer open.”
He lifted the desk off the books once the weight of the drawers was out of the way. He carefully moved her piles of items and organizers onto the floor taking mental pictures of her setup. There was a framed photo of her and a man and his heart almost gave out at the thought that the pretty girl was taken. He glanced at her wiping the desks, her left hand bare of any rings. It didn’t necessarily mean anything, but there was no way he could ask if she was taken. He gently placed her laptop on the back counter behind him and then tilted the desk onto it’s side.
The weight of her gaze was prominent on his face, but he ignored it, focusing on her desk and hoping to make her life a little better. “S’this little screw for the leg.”
“Yeah, I figured. It was too stuck for me. I tried using some WD-40 but I didn’t get much luck.”
He pictured the pretty girl in her bright red pants trying to get her desk to unstick. Resourceful she was. “I think I have some in m’car, I’ll go pop out.”
“Let me prop this door open,” she offered and went to the classroom door labeled with a giant two. Just follow that path up,” she pointed. Harry hurried out waiting until he was out of her sightline to all but run to his car and back. He returned with a selection of random tools he grabbed and walked back to her classroom.
“—shouldn’t stay late on a Friday,” he hated how jealous he was of a man’s voice. “Come out with El and I,” the voice offered.
“Louis, I’m exhausted. I will come over tomorrow. I can’t even imagine talking to the two of you right now and I love you guys.”
“I know,” the voice sighed. “Do you need help?”
“No, I’m good.”
“Course not.”
“Shut up,” she rolled her eyes.
“That isn’t very kind of you Miss Kindergarten,” the voice answered with attitude.
Harry cleared his throat as he returned. “I gotta go, Louis. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Don’t stay too late, Miss Bee,” he sang.
She continued sweeping and glanced at Harry’s tools. “You really don’t have to do this,” she reminded him.
“Happy t’help,” he assured her. She seemed pretty adamant though. He wondered why she felt so uncomfortable asking for help. His eyes dropped to her left hand once more looking for a tan line or any indication she was taken. “M’a big fan of teachers,” he promised. “Had some really good ones,” he explained.
She took a deep breath and nodded. “If you’re sure. I don’t want to be a bother.”
Harry wondered who on earth made this saint of a woman feel like a burden. Her desk was old and rickety. It was hardly rocket science to fix it and it wasn’t even that heavy. The drawers stuck, which Harry would tackle next, but otherwise what was so difficult? He sprayed the screw at the foot of her desk and gave it a spin, but it didn’t work. He pulled a wrench from his toolbox and tried to get better leverage. “There we go,” he mumbled to himself as the screw unstuck. He untwisted it all the way and sprayed both the screw and the hole. He twisted the metal piece back in and smiled feeling glad he made her life a little easier. He stood, tipped the desk back to it’s rightful position. He put weight with his hands to ensure all the legs were the same length and he wiped his hands on his pants.
“There’s a bathroom through that door—everything is low because of the kids though,” she pointed toward the one right near him.
“Thanks bird,” he smiled and headed through it. Whoops, he thought to himself.
He rinsed his hands with soap quickly admiring the bright, neon green paper that said you should sing Happy Birthday to yourself twice to get the germs off while washing your hands. He imagined she heard happy birthday all day long and found that adorable.
When he reentered her room, she was already putting things back, including trying to get the sticky drawer back into position. “Oh, I can do that, love. Don’t hurt yourself,” he hurried over and grabbed the drawer from her grip.
“Thank you so much for doing this, this is so lovely,” she frowned. “Can I pay you or something?”
“Absolutely not,” he chuckled. “S’hardly anything, bird,” he assured her and jimmied the drawer back into position. “Y’can keep doing your thing. I’ll put everything back.”
She bit the inside of her lip. “Thank you,” she repeated.
“You’re welcome, seriously. S’hardly nothing.”
“No but it is,” she assured him. “I don’t mean to dump this all on you but my ex-boyfriend made it very clear that I put too much effort into my job and that all the extra time I didn’t get paid for didn’t mean anything because caring so much didn’t get me anything more. But I love this room and all it’s little quirks but this means the world to me, honestly. I want one of those Pinterest perfect classrooms in some ways, but I don’t think I’ll ever get it because this school is old and I don’t have the money, time, or energy I’d like to fix a lot of the things I probably need to. I don’t think I’m explaining it quite right and I’m sorry I just dumped all that on you, but I don’t think anyone has ever done anything this kind for me.”
Harry felt bad that his assumptions were correct, but he loved the way she let all of that out. He listened to every word with bated breath grateful for the word ex. It didn’t mean she didn’t have a current boyfriend, but it put into perspective why she was so overwhelmed by Harry’s little help. “Well, Miss Bee, m’at your service,” he assured her.
--
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𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 ( 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐱 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)
"Mhn~You taste so fucking good Y/N" He said swirling his tongue around your clit softly sucking it into his mouth his tongue piercing slightly cold on your pink bud. Causing you to moan out releasing your sweet nectar into his mouth and he drinks it all up loving the way it slides down his throat feeling his neck get warm with excitement
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