in which...

...y/n loves putting on a show and harry can't help but lose control

In which Y/N loves putting on a show and Harry can't help but lose control (camgirl!Y/N)

Harry's fingertips are hovering above the keyboard.

The URL of the page is not only bookmarked, but also imprinted into his mind. He could probably type it with his eyes closed, as shameful as that makes him. The clock is about two minutes to ten. His door is closed, blinds shut and lights dimmed. One sole peppermint candle is lit on top of his bedside table. As usual, his palms are sticky with sweat.

Adjusting his laptop on top of his desk, he scoots his chair closer, trying to make himself as comfortable as possible. He's long ago given up on the idea of sitting in bed with the computer propped on his knees. It gets overheated quickly and his bead squeaks. Plus, he can't have the screen moving around too much. He needs to see properly.

The countdown is at less than 50 seconds when he finally accesses the page. Clearing his throat and trying to get his body to stop thrumming with the excitement it currently is, he fiddles with his fingers in his lap and just waits. The comments in the chat are already rolling in, but he refrains himself from looking, knowing they'll only make his stomach churn.

The countdown ticks right before his eyes, his own mind counting along impatiently, breath hitching on the last three seconds, spit pooling a little heavy and obvious in his mouth. God, when had he let himself become so desperate? The screen glitches for about ten more seconds or so, before the image changes and everything snaps into focus.

"Hi." Sweet, sweet voice.

Harry sighs, leaning back in his chair and running a hand down his face at the sight before him. Every Wednesday night his thoughts are filled with nothing but the screen sitting in front of him, or more importantly, the person behind the screen. He does call himself pathetic at times, for how quick a simple outfit or a smile, or even a giggle can turn him into putty, but he's also never shied away from that fact. He likes looking at pretty things, and oh what a pretty sight this is.

shybun24. The viewer count is as high as usual, growing more and more in numbers as the seconds pass by. Small sparks of yellow distract his attention in the chatroom, the tips rolling in quickly. He shifts impatiently in his seat. Every Wednesday night is a new surprise, and it never ceases to amaze him how she pulls everything off so flawlessly each time.

He's been watching, for a long time now. Very rarely skips any of her shows, unless his schedule doesn't allow him to, but even then, he tries to find a way. All of her videos are unique, almost none the same, always a new set of pretty lingerie, some gifted (because she always makes sure to thank the kind people that follow her, like the good girl that she is), some picked by herself. Today, the sight before his eyes makes Harry bite his own fist.

"I'll wait a little more for people to come, and then I can start." The cheekiest of smiles is pulling at her lips, cheekbones lifted high, making her eyes squint adorably. Harry audibly gulps.

Soft thighs are the first thing that his eyes focus on, trying his hardest to absorb every detail on his tiny screen. So pretty, so squishy, so perfect to bite into, to kiss and worship. The faintest of yellow bruises rest on the inner part of them. They make Harry inhale sharply.

Light blue knee socks cover her legs, pulling tighter at where they begin to reach her thighs, squeezing the skin, making Harry's pants feel just that much tighter. Sometimes she wouldn't start from the beginning in her underwear, would put on a skirt that left little to the imagination, and make her viewers work for it. Today is not one of those days though, and Harry ogles at the tiny bow resting on the band at the front of her panties, small lace details not going unnoticed, the color matching with the rest of her "outfit".