gravity

momentum

momentum is the motivation an object has towards its intended target

—————

Harry gave (Y/N) his number. She had asked for it.

It had been two days since the interaction outside of Stanfill's room and Harry doesn't think his smile has waned once in that time. While he hadn't heard from her yet—other than a short message just to confirm she had the right contact for him—just the fact she had a way to contact him at all made his heart skip a beat.

He'd had a crush on her from the second she and her friend picked seats right in front of him that first day of syllabus week. When her blonde friend suddenly stopped showing up, Harry readily stole the seat beside her after taking a week to pluck up the courage and take advantage of all the free pep talks Mitch was willing to give him. He never imagined that she would talk to him for more than three seconds, let alone set up study sessions and ask for his number.

Even seeing her today in their physics course held a different air. He typically saw her through a dreamy haze anyway, but something had shifted during that ninety minute lecture. A wall that had been built on the premise that they were nothing more than polite seatmates had been knocked down, leaving a gateway for Harry to peek at her with a rose tinted lens coloring his vision. He was trying not to get too far ahead of himself, especially since there was nothing even set up for the tutoring sessions he offered her, but it was easy to get carried away in the possibilities of what might be if he was given the chance.

All he needed was for her to message him.

—————

if it isn't too short notice, maybe we could meet up tomorrow morning at the campus library????? if not that's okay I just want to get in as much study time as we can before that exam next week!!

(Y/N) pressed send on her text to Harry, not even having time to tuck it away before it buzzed in her hand.

Harry S. (physics)

thats perfect! I can do 10am if that works for you? I'll save us a table and bring my notes and everything too! Thank you!

A smile spread over her features without permission as she read over his text. Harry was entirely too cute to be fair; he was thanking her for letting him tutor her when it should be the other way around since he was the one actually doing a service. Nonetheless, she was endeared at how excited he was to help her no matter if it were one-on-one sessions or letting her copy off his notes for a lecture or two.

i'll see you then!! thank you!!

Flicking her gaze to the time displayed in the top corner of her phone, (Y/N) already had an excuse at the ready to let her disappear into her room for a couple hours. If she had it right, there should be a stream tonight in a few minutes that was becoming a source of well-needed stress relief for her and she didn't want to miss it. Even if Ny was staying in tonight.

"I think I'm gonna go through some of my physics stuff," she sighed, sitting from the cuddled position she took on the corner of the couch, "I finally have a tutoring session tomorrow and I don't want him to think I'm a complete dumbass."

Ny perked up at the mention of a him. "Is it Harry? The guy who's tutoring you?"

"Yeah," she nodded, "We're going to meet up tomorrow at the library."

She watched as Ny's face fell at the timing of her plans, "Wait, does that mean you're missing Willa's birthday party tomorrow?"

"No," she laughed, "Why would I set up a study session at ten at night? Besides, it's tomorrow morning, so I'll be back with plenty of time to still go to the party."

"Maybe you could invite Harry," her roommate suggested, her shoulders losing the tense they gained now that she knew their weekend plans were still intact, "I've never seen him at any of the Greek parties."

(Y/N) tossed around the idea, "I mean, I can but I'm not sure if they're his scene, honestly. Like, he just texted me saying thank you for letting him tutor me." Her lips moved into a pout as she shared the information, still completely endeared at the fact he was so ready to offer help and share gratitude when someone took it.

"No, did he really?" Ny gaped, sitting up from the curled position she took in their recliner.

"He did," (Y/N) affirmed, feeling every bit the same at Naomi's reaction, "He's too sweet. So, I don't think we've ever seen him at those parties because he just doesn't like to go. And, I also don't think I have the authority to be inviting people to Willa's birthday."

"It's not like she would be mad, especially if you told her what you told me, but I see what you mean. Anyway, just make sure to be home in time to pregame with me and get us in the right Uber this time."

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and laughed before heading towards her room. It's not like she could say anything, since she had gotten into the same Uber, no questions asked, despite the way she knew Ny was too drunk to really know what a 2006 Ford Fiesta looked like.

As she dug out her laptop, she couldn't help but feel just a bit... gross knowing what she was going to watch while her roommate was just a wall away. But, call it what you want—stress, the looming idea of 'cuffing season' approaching, or the fact that she was becoming just a bit attached to the ritual of watching his shows—no matter what, (Y/N) was going to take advantage of the reprieve those streams offered. (And, who knows, this might just be her thing for the time being before she reverts back to a less scheduled form of pleasure).

By the time she had her door locked and her duvet fluffed around her, (Y/N) was a few minutes late to the stream. The chat was flooding through with comments just a hair too fast for her to catch anything specific with H's tip meter rising steadily. Sticking in her earbuds (keeping one out on the possibility that Ny needed something), she tuned into the show that was already in progress.

It seemed he had already passed over his intro, humming a low tone as he transitioned to the crux of the show. A burgundy knitted sweater covered his torso, the piece large enough to pile over his body in soft folds with sleeves that extended over the expanse of his hands to emulate paws.

"I've been rough with you these last few times, haven't I?" he drawled, the thick of his voice draping over her body, "I think it's time we slow down—I want to talk to you, baby." A soft sigh of a moan exited his throat, as if it were relieving just to think about taking it slow for today's stream. In the handful of times she'd tuned in, this was the most laid-back set up she'd seen from him. "Jus' a little tired today, but I still want to be with you, darling. Wanna cum with you— that's all I need."

(Y/N) swore her eyes almost fluttered to the back of her head at the sound of his request. If not for the fact she needed to keep an ear out for Naomi, she would have plucked the other headphone into her ear just so she could hear the full vibrato of his voice and the way his tongue lazed over the sensual words. She instead slipped her hand under the waist of her sweats, fingertips brushing over the cotton fabric of her underwear. Her eyes were pinned to the screen with her fingers just barely administering teasing brushes over her panties as H slowly rucked up his sweater and put the tanned muscles of his abdomen on display.

"Start with me, love, touch yourself with me," he beckoned. His sweater stayed folded to the top of his chest, leaving the ink of his tattoos and the buttery bronze of his skin to steal her attention in the lowlights of his set up before he tugged the waist of his own comfy pants to the middle of his thighs. He had forgone boxers for this stream, the usual waistband lacking as his cock bobbed against his bare stomach.

Her performer practically melted into the leather of his seat when his fingers slipped through the trimmed thatch of hair that surrounded his base before he wrapped his fist around the girth in a loose hold. A shuddering sigh racked through his body, the sound filthy enough that she didn't need his regular stream of commentary to know just how good he must have felt with his prick in his hand. More than any of the other streams, this one was entirely intimate with the theatrics of his daddy persona being left behind as he chased his own pleasure.

It was hot.

A slow pass of his fist over his length elicited a long moan to fall from his lips, the sound breathless and stuttering. He shifted in his spot, his head falling back with just the very ends of his deep brown hair falling into frame with his thighs spreading wider apart. He worked his hand lazily over his length, (Y/N) trying to match his motions with small circles around her clit through the fabric of her underwear. She watched through a hooded gaze just as he pulled his hand from his cock, disappearing out of frame. She swore she could have whined had she been alone, already missing the view of his stroking hand until she heard the unmistakable sound of H spitting. A second later, his now slicked hand dropped back into frame beginning to stroke over his length in faster pulls. A deep groan fell from between his lips. The sound reverberated through (Y/N)'s form, a choked moan getting stuck in her throat as she brought the pads of her fingers to the pearl of her clit.

"Are y'with me, darling? Feeling good?" he rumbled, his voice surprising her from the trance she fell into from his moans.

(Y/N) breathed deeply through her mouth, trying her best to keep the bubbling moans in her chest at bay. With her hand creeping towards the full of her panties, she chanced an opportunity to hopefully be noticed by H, her free hand typing out a quick comment despite the flood that was already streaming through.

sunflowerssweetheart: soo good h are you??

Just like always, he was able to pick her simple remark out of the far more dirty perspectives being broadcast to him through the chatroom. A smile could be heard in his tone, making (Y/N) crave to know what he looked like that much more.

"I am, sweetheart, feel s'good. Been such a long day, feels s'good to fuck into m'hand for you." His voice was lazy and slow, matching the pace of his fist over his shaft.

From this stream alone, (Y/N) was finding out just how easy it was for him to make her wet. He wasn't speaking in the same commanding cadence she was used to, with a dominating honorific leaving his lips. Instead, he simply spoke with a lazy tongue and an audible smile. Apparently, that was all she needed, the thick of his voice saying just about anything, to get her soaked through her panties. It only got better knowing that he was talking to her.

She ached to hear the self-claimed pet name fall from his lips again, to feel the honey of his tone drip over her body knowing that he had found her comments out of all the more enticing ones. It took an effort to peel her eyes from his heated form, his chest beginning to pinken as his breathing came in measured pants.

sunflowerssweetheart: im sorry it was long h was it good at least ?

(Y/N) felt a little silly as she pressed send. He had said he wanted to talk this stream, take things soft and slow this time around but she wasn't sure. Now probably wasn't the time for small talk when he had his cock in his hand and she was manipulating her clit through her soaked panties, but all she wanted was for him to answer her. If he decided it was a little too odd to commit to some small talk while thrusting into his hand, he would just ignore her comment and go on like normal.

H thumbed over his glistening tip, hips bucking upwards into the cup of his palm with his solid stomach muscles dancing. "D-Don't be sorry, sweetheart, 's all better now, right?" he breathed, thighs tensing as he brought his other hand to cradle his balls, "Better now that 'm with you—that I get to feel good with you. Wasn't bad, jus' long. Y'had a good day too, right, sweetheart?"

How he was able to make small talk sound like erotica, dripping over her skin like warmed honey, she didn't know. But, she wasn't going to complain either, especially since every uttering of her pet name sparked between her thighs.

The chat stream flooded with comments, many responding to the question he posed while his tip meter ran higher and higher. (Y/N), too distracted with her wandering hands as she plucked the gusset of her panties to the side and dipped her fingers between her folds, lagged in her response. She listened intently as H answered a few other comments, breathy moans thrown in between his words as he used other terms of endearment that only urged the want in her to hear the one that was just for her.

sunflowerssweetheart: long too but ur right its s much better now

sunflowerssweetheart: youve got me soaked through my panties h

Her fingers shook as she pressed send, her gaze lidded as she melted into her bed in anticipation of his response. With the cover of her sweats, she traced over her slit with the tip of her fingers. She coated her touch in the wetness seeping from her hole before sliding up to the pearl of her uncovered clit. Her body tensed at the teasing touch, imagining her wandering hands were that of the man on screen. If she tried hard enough, with the sound of his moans echoing in her ear and the slick noise of his hand working over his length, she could pretend the burn in her thighs was caused by the stretch of having his slim hips between them as he took care of her like he promised.

(Y/N)'s eyes had just barely slipped shut when she heard a grunting breath of a laugh disrupt the rhythm of H's stroking hand and corresponding moans.

"Got you that wet, sweetheart? Soaked through your pretty panties for me?" he drawled, the butterfly on his tummy jumping as he swiped his thumb over the tip, "'M happy I could help y'feel so good—'s m'job right?"

It seemed like his comment was more for himself than for the show he was putting on, his tone going quiet as he was lost in the feel of his hand working over his length. He ignored the flood of comments entering the chat, leaving (Y/N) only to concentrate on the sound of his voice echoing in her ears and the visual of him with his messily rucked up shirt and his flushed cock in his glistening grip. Her already slicked touch grew that much messier with her own squeaks of pleasure dying in her throat in an effort to stay quiet.

Her eyes fluttered closed as he responded to other comments, talking to his baby and his darling about how good he felt. She lost herself as she blissfully listened, her special name never being used now that he wasn't responding to her, but nonetheless his effect was felt on her body. The star of the show was the soft breaths he was letting out and the groans that reverberated through his chest and shook her own body—intimacy reigning supreme as she worked the pads of her fingers over her clit. That reoccurring visual of him tucked between her hips with his cock working through her got easier and easier to conjure with every soft moan that filtered through her ears.

She could imagine tucking her face into his neck with the slick sounds of her pussy opening to accept him inside, a sound she was substituting with the slick passes of his fist over his length. Her twiddling fingers circled her entrance in a mock tease, something she could picture him doing for her in an effort to commit to his promise of taking the night slow and spending all his time with her.

When she cracked her eyes open, she saw H keen into his own touch, a broken groan leaving his chest. The black tattoos inked on his skin stood out harshly against the burning pink that colored his chest. Her pinned gaze followed his free hand as it settled on the thick of his thigh beside the tiger's head etched into the skin. The blunt of his nails caught on the skin before he dragged them across to add a bite of clarifying pain to the bliss wrapping around his body. (Y/N) shuddered at the sight, melting into the bed under her with her back arching as she circled her clit in rough rounds. H seemed to mimic her reaction with his own spine curling upwards and his hand that had administered the mark on his thigh returned to tug at his balls in roughened pulls.

The fist curled around his length curated a quicker pace, puffs of air exhaling through his mouth that she craved to see. The butterfly on his stomach stuttered, wings fluttering as his muscles tensed and relaxed in the mounting pleasure (Y/N) matched in her own tummy. She didn't even need to dip her fingers inside, the rounds around her puffy clit bringing her closer and closer with stings of pleasure that almost felt like they were too much rattling through her body.

"Are y'close, darling? 'M so fucking close, gonna cum soon for you," H groaned, his voice holding a graveled quality like he'd just woken up despite the almost hourlong timestamp at the bottom of the stream.

(Y/N) copied the pacing of his fist over his shaft, circling her clit to match the motion of his hand. Her breathing came in harsh pants, moans dying in her throat before they could escape as she fought to keep quiet despite the pleasure tightening in her tummy. She wanted to cum with H, wanted to hear those groans that built in his chest and the spurting of his cum that he scripted to have saved for her.

"Are you close, sweetheart?"

She practically jumped at the sound of her pet name, her fingers in her panties stuttering before starting in double time as he called out to her unprompted. He wanted to talk to her, see where she was at in her own pleasure. God, that was almost enough to make her cum.

Even if he wasn't talking to her specifically like the hope in her chest yearned for, she was going to comment for him anyway.

sunflowerssweetheart: im so close h please please let me cum with you

She watched as his muscles practically liquified as he sighed, his hand tightening at the base of his cock in a rough hold before slinking upwards in tight strokes.

"I want to cum with you, too, sweetheart, can y'keep up?"

sunflowerssweetheart: i can h please

She wished she could talk to him in person during these moments; she wanted him to hear just how desperate she really was to cum with him and to see his pleasure. The keystrokes she posted for him weren't enough.

"Good," he groaned, the word stumbled between a sandwich of moans as he cupped the head of his cock in a massaging hold, "'M gonna count down, okay? And I want y'to cum wi-with me, sweetheart."

(Y/N) couldn't stop herself before a breathy promise of "Okay, okay, I will, H," fell from her lips. Still, she was quiet enough she hoped Ny wouldn't hear, but she couldn't quell the impulse to speak to him like she so craved to do in person. She didn't bother to type out a response, instead focusing her attention on the countdown H had promised her.

"Gonna start at ten, and you're gonna cum on one with me," he explained, lazy words warming her skin. She nodded as if he could see her, enveloped in the scene he was painting for her.

"Ten," he crooned, the number feeling more like a whisper as (Y/N) slicked her fingers over her clit with her eyes fixed on H, "Nine, fuck." His cock jumped in his hold as he continued down, his other hand cradling his balls that tightened against his base.

"Eight." His voice came out as something of a sigh.

"S-Seven."

Something about the fact that she was on a time limit, the sound of H's voice counting down, made (Y/N) clench around her fingers, ridges tight.

"Six." H's breath was all but gone with his skin flushed and precum sliding down his length before getting mixed in with the saliva that covered his shaft.

"Five—sweetheart, 'm so close, fuck."

(Y/N)'s hip bucked into her hand of her pet name, the circles she had committed to go around her clit dissolved into frantic smears of her fingers over the bud. She breathed in heaves of her chest, lungs drawing in the air deeply.

"Four," he rushed, the number feeling like an afterthought when he groaned almost immediately after, "'M gonna fucking cum, shit—three. Are y'ready, sweetheart? Want y'to soak your pretty fingers and panties for me—two."

With her jaw dropped and her eyes hooded, (Y/N) watched intently as his hand on his prick quickened into a blur with his muscles tensed and coiled in wait for the release he would gift himself. The folds of his sweater sat high on his chest, but (Y/N) already pitied the clean up H would have to endure to get his cum out of the fabric; this was going to be a messy one if the arching of his back and the rumbling groans were anything to go by.

"One."

Following right after the end of his countdown, H stayed true to his word and came. The spurts hit high on his chest, just barely missing the very edge of his sweater and instead painting the ink of his butterfly. His graveled voice let out soft groans with his still pumping hand milking his cock. The sight was enough to take (Y/N) to the edge, her back arching and fingers stuttering before stopping still on her sensitive bud. She mimicked the heavy breaths he let out with her muscles tensed and shaking.

Whispers of his name fell from her lips as she sunk into the down of her comforter, eyelids fluttering to a close as she floated back to earth. Her thighs were tight around her hand, pinning her fingers to her center despite the fact she was much too sensitive for the contact. Still ringing through her ears, she could hear H's own come down.

Cracking her eyes open into reluctant slits, she found that she had been right about his messy release. His cock was still tightly held in his grip but now he had ropes of cum reaching over his chest with the highest dotting over his sweater. His throat bobbed as he sucked in air to fill his crimson colored chest.

"Fuck," he whispered, a ghost of a smile audible in the word as he slowly released himself with stiff fingers. He righted himself in lethargic movements, laughing as he caught sight of his stained sweater, "Got a little messy, didn't I?"

(Y/N)'s fingers twitched at the sound of his drawling voice, drawing an aftershock to rattle through her body as she pushed on her clit. She watched through clear eyes as he reached for a baby wipe—a new addition to his set up it seemed—and cleaned off his chest and hand before tucking his member delicately back into his sweats. His recovery time lingered in the slow movements and long moments to recollect himself and even his breathing. She understood where he was coming from; without the theater and the extra layer of the dominating character he typically put on for the shows, this entire stream was built on the feeling alone that they could draw from their bodies. That kind of pleasure caused a wipe out.

Just as the time ticked to just over an hour long of the stream, H let out a tired breath of laughter. "Really did take m'time today, I guess," he smiled, pushing his sweater down to cover his chest as he drew closer to the camera for his outro, "Still, if you're not tired of me yet, 'm doing something special this weekend. I'll be posting links on my main page in a few minutes for one-on-one sessions through Monday. If y'can, I would love to have more time with you, darling."

H finished with his proper outro, requesting she wait for him before the screen cut to black with the rest of his layout emptying out until the next time he was in front of a camera. (Y/N) slipped her hand from her now soaked underwear, and replaced the lid on her laptop.

Sinking into the mattress, she shuddered her eyes and released a breath she hadn't meant to hold.

God, she needed a boyfriend.

A quirk of a smile was brought to her lips at the first coherent thought after a stream like that. Before (Y/N) could finish reveling in the pleasure and piece herself back together, a quiet knock sounded on her door. She bolted upright and plucked the headphone from her ear.

"Hey, I know you're doing homework but can you help me with the panini press? I think I broke it again," Ny called through the door, a huff to her tone at the mention of the kitchen equipment.

"Yeah, give me a second," (Y/N) responded, falling into the fluff of her bedding for a moment longer.

She just hoped her legs wouldn't shake when she got out there.

—————

Fall was (Y/N)'s favorite, especially the mornings, but that still didn't make her a morning person.

She awoke exhausted by the time her alarm went off so she could get to her study session with Harry. She and Ny had stayed up way too late falling down a rabbit hole of drag queen YouTube videos, keeping them up way later than (Y/N) had wanted considering she needed to try to be smart this morning. She hoped somehow Harry would be able to tick the lightbulb on in her head during this session, letting her get home by two this afternoon to nap before she and Naomi started on the night's plans.

Trudging through the campus quad, (Y/N) wrapped her heavy pink cardigan across her chest. Her bag with her laptop tucked inside was slung over her shoulder, the strap needing constant adjustment that only served to tick (Y/N) off just a hair more each time. The only pleasant thing so far had been the visual of the falling leaves around her, burnt oranges and robust reds that served an agenda of illusioned warmth. The needed distraction of her phone buzzing in her back pocket prompted her to reach for it, giving her grumped attitude a break from worrying over the strap of her bag.

Harry S. (physics)

Good morning! I saved us a table in the back of the second floor of the library by the nonfiction mystery section

(Y/N) read over the text a couple of times, trying to figure if she'd ever set foot in the 'nonfiction mystery' section of the library (wasn't that just true crime, anyway?). If she was being honest, she doesn't think she'd ever been to the second floor either—she and Ny weren't known for their stellar study habits. She could already see the building just around the corner of the English hall, hoping to somehow get a peek through the glossy windows to show where Harry had stationed them.

Stepping through the glass doors, the older librarian woman gave her a soft smile from behind the counter, a cart full of mismatched books behind her. (Y/N) reciprocated before drawing her eyes to the hanging directory that pointed her towards the staircase that would take her to the second floor. The signage that dictated which sections she was coming to pass were pasted to the side of towering book shelves. She scanned over the various study tables set up through the library, hoping to spot Harry no matter how far off base she was from his directions.

Finally, the nonfiction mystery (on the way there, (Y/N) decided it was just a fancy way to say true crime, no matter if they were shelved separately) shelves came into view. She craned her neck to peer around the organizers, finding a lone study table occupied by a familiar head of curly hair.

Harry's usual setup was sprawled in front of him, pens and highlighters and pristine notebooks taking up the rounded space. A pair of compostable coffee cups were at his right, closest to where (Y/N) planned on taking a seat—rough night, she figured, if she hadn't wanted to sleep in an extra twenty minutes she would have grabbed a cup too. A fuzzy, duckling yellow cardigan warmed his body, grey stripes running through the knit that complimented the plain black shirt covering his chest. His glasses were already perched on his nose as he read over the pages in front of him, his gaze flicking upwards when he heard her approaching steps.

A bright smile dug a pair of dimples into his cheeks, the green of his eyes especially bright against the red and orange tones running through the library. "Good morning!" he called with a wave of his hand.

"Hi," she smiled, rounding the table to the free chair beside him, "Sorry I'm a little late, it took me a second to figure out where you were."

"'S okay, no worries," he beamed, shy gaze following her as she took her spot beside him, "This is one of the harder places to find, so I figured it would be a nice spot for us to concentrate and everything."

(Y/N) nodded her head as she settled in, getting her own utensils and notes out to hopefully have Harry make sense of the work she'd put together this last month. Pulling open her file of notes, he interrupted her by pushing one of the togo cups towards her.

Clearing his throat, he adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, "I—uh—I got y'this, by the way. I hope 's right," he mumbled, a soft smile curling his lips though nerves edged the motion.

"Oh," she chirped, brows rising as she reached for the coffee with the inscription of the order on the side: a pumpkin chai latte with almond milk and whipped cream. A bright smile spread over her lips, "Harry, this is perfect! How did you know?"

The first gratifying sip that washed over her tongue worked like magic. The warmth of the drink slipped over her body with the added layer that it had been Harry who was thoughtful enough to grab it for her making it that much better. He even got her the largest size, too. What an angel.

A bashful smile poked at his lips, Harry dropping his gaze from hers to the hands wrapped around her taupe colored tumbler. "You've brought it to class before, and I jus'... remembered, I guess," he mumbled.

(Y/N) smiled around the sip she took. Harry was sweet. Every time she thought she had him dialed, he only broke those expectations and made new ones she was sure he would pass.

"Well, thank you, Harry," she beamed, settling her cup beside his, a perfect pair, "I'll get the next one then."

He was quick to shake his head, the curls of his hair flopping over his forehead to which he used a sweater covered hand to push the strands back. "No, no, y'don't have to. 'M jus' happy I remembered it right."

"We'll see," she countered, already trying to peek at his own order so she could surprise him, "So, where should we start?"

His gaze lingered over her form, the edging of his smile only deepening as she pulled out an empty notebook that matched the green of his own (she wanted to be prepared in case he recommended a better way to take notes). There was a shift in his demeanor once he zeroed in on his own supplies, dialing into his mastered subject. A pinch appeared in his brow, "Where does it get hard for you? Where was the first place y'got lost?"

A warmth burned from under her cheeks as (Y/N) rolled her eyes, "This is embarrassing, but the first unit."

She hadn't been lying or trying to lighten the mood with the acknowledgment of her embarrassment. There was a tint of humility following her into the session over having to show someone else just how far she was falling behind. (Y/N) has always been one of the lucky ones growing up, never having to study too hard or struggle too much with information retention, no matter how informal the initial teaching was. She wasn't at the top of her class, but she was typically able to get by just fine without the help of tutors or cram sessions, so she was more than out of her element to be asking for help. Nonetheless, she needed it and Harry being the one to offer it only sweetened the deal—even if she would struggle meeting his eyes during the most obvious of questions.

Harry didn't falter for a second as he flicked through his notes, features schooled into nothing but pleasant diplomacy. "Don't be embarrassed," he prompted, "Physics can be confusing, especially if y'don't have a basic understanding. We'll start from the beginning and go from there, alright?"

(Y/N) lagged in response, her just noticing the time elapsed when Harry looked at her through his lashes and over the frames of his glasses. A small smile tugged at a corner of her mouth as she nodded, "Okay."

A pink dusted over his cheeks before he pulled his attention from his notes. Harry started off with information he didn't even have scrawled pages on, taking her to the true base knowledge that built up to the course they were taking. (Y/N) did her due diligence, writing down anything Harry deemed vital enough for her to remember. He took his time, pausing when she needed a moment and encouraging her to ask questions if he could see them in her expression. He was already worlds better than Stanfill, even if he more often than not couldn't look her in her eyes and stumbled every few sentences when he'd catch just how intently she was watching him.

It's only halfway through the session that his phone started incessantly buzzing in his bag at his feet. The first few times weren't too distracting, Harry able to move on without so much as glancing to his feet. It's when the vibration increased to several notifications every couple of minutes, as if he were a part of a tumultuous group chat, that his concentration broke.

The pink that seemed to constantly stain his cheeks flared to a brightened red. He peered down to his feet where his school bag rested against the legs of his chair. Looking to (Y/N) with an apologetically shy perk to his lips, he reached under the table, "'M sorry, jus'—Let me... I need to get that, I think."

(Y/N) nodded in response with a bright smile on her features, "That's fine, don't worry!"

Harry's face only deepened in the red color dusting his cheeks, rolling his lips between his teeth as his eyes darted across the notifications illuminating his screen. He stroked the screen in a few long scrolls, even more buzzing coming in as he did so that put him back at the bottom of the never-ending thread. He only took a moment longer to type out a few responses, seemingly quelling the group chat before shoving his phone clumsily back in his bag where it was silenced.

"Sorry," he repeated, running a heavy hand through the swirls of hair on the top of his head before anxiously adjusting his glasses.

"It's okay, I understand," (Y/N) chirped, Harry's eyes widening a barely noticeable amount at her words, "My friends put me in group chats all the time, and they all suddenly want to talk when I'm busy."

His expression relaxed some as she finished, the stiffened set in his shoulders deflating as he exhaled through his nose. "Yeah, 's annoying, for sure," he agreed, a tight smile on his lips. He darted his attention to the first unit's worth of notes they were going to go over now that (Y/N) had something to work off of, the blush on his cheeks depleting to the near constant pink he donned.

"Did you have any questions before we move on?"

—————

"Thank you so much for helping me, Harry, I really needed this."

(Y/N) beamed at him as she started packing up, slipping her laptop full of comprehensive notes and study tips into her bag. The time on her phone only ticked to a few minutes past one, almost an hour before she was hoping to get home. Though they hadn't taken as long as she thought, she felt more prepared and accomplished than she had even hoped for when walking into this session. Harry was the best teacher she could have found for a subject like this; though it was obvious he was extremely smart and passionate about the material, he didn't leave her behind or think her questions too obvious to give a thoughtful response. He had helped her understand concepts up to the current unit they were to be tested over, something she thought they would have to schedule another session to go over.

"Thank you," he smiled, shy under the praise as he organized his utensils to be arranged in his bag, "'S no problem at all."

She rolled her eyes at his unnecessary gratitude though a smile bloomed on her lips at how sweet he was. "You're an amazing teacher, really," she continued, slinging her bag over her shoulder, "Stanfill better watch out because you might be next in line for his job."

Her teasing elicited an airy laugh from him as he plucked his glasses from his face and tucked them into the case. "'M pretty sure he's tenured, but we'll see."

The dimples denting into his cheeks slowly filled to match the full of his cheeks as his smile fell. He turned to face her, his own bag hanging from the broad of his shoulder as he worried his bottom lip between his two front teeth.

"Do you—or, can I—I guess—walk y'to your car?" he mumbled, worrying the strap of his bag in the large of his hands. The toes of his shoes shuffled against the grey carpeted floor at their feet, reminding her of the first time he grew the courage to talk to her after class.

(Y/N) brightened at his offer. "Yeah, I would really like that. Thank you."

Harry visibly relaxed at her acceptance, his shoulders deflating into a natural slope and his grip on his bag lessening. Though the pink on his cheeks stayed ever-present, the tone something like a permanent stain on the skin.

She let him lead the way this time, still not sure exactly how she found her way so deep into the library. By the time they reached the ground floor, this smiling librarian that had greeted (Y/N) when she first arrived perked up at her station behind the desk.

"Bye, Harry," she called, a deep smile on her face that complimented the parenthetical lines that curled around the edges.

"Bye," he answered back, a shy tint to his tone as he offered a small wave in her direction.

Once they stepped into the tepid air of the autumn afternoon, (Y/N) looked up at Harry beside her. "Do you know her? The librarian."

A short shrug of his shoulders caused his bag to slip over the fuzz of his cardigan. "Yeah, kinda. I jus' spend a lot of time there—especially m'first year here, so..."

"That's sweet," she determined, trying to fall into step with him despite the length of his strides, "She seems really nice."

"She is," he agreed fondly, a small nod of his head bringing his curls into his eyes again.

After a beat of silence, the car park visible in the distance, (Y/N) chanced another glance up at her companion for the morning. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to invite him to Willa's party. "What are you up to tonight?"

If not for the rosy tint already laced over his cheeks, (Y/N) wouldn't have noticed the way it slowly deepened to a red as she asked about his plans.

"'M working tonight."

At least she checked before offering him the invitation, (Y/N) thought. "What do you do? Do you tutor people for real or secretly write all of Stanfill's scientific journals?"

"Oh no," he shook his head, a small laugh breaching the curl of his lips, "I do some online marketing for this place off campus—like social media interactions and everything."

"That's really cool," she answered politely, not entirely sure what place around here could afford social media marketing given the area was almost exclusively funded by broke college kids. (Y/N) had secured a close parking spot at the beginning of the day, but that only meant they had reached their destination before she was ready to say bye.

Harry stopped on the sidewalk behind her as (Y/N) turned on her heel to face him as she edged towards the driver's door. "Is it okay if I text you at all this week in case I need help with anything? To prep for the test, I mean."

His shoulders jumped and chest puffed as Harry straightened his posture. A bright smile spread over his cheeks, his dimples drawing her attention. "No, no, I don't mind at all. 'M always available."

(Y/N) smiled at his enthusiasm, reaching for her car door. "Well, I'll see you on Monday then, right? Have a nice night at work."

Nodding his head, Harry's smile only deepened. "Yeah, I'll see you on Monday, (Y/N)."

From her rearview mirror, she could see him waiting on the sidewalk for her. His hands were pulled into paws made from the knit of his cardigan, his grip loose around the strap of his bag. He only left after she had pulled out of the parking lot.

—————

(Y/N) felt good about this one, she couldn't lie.

The whole week after Harry's tutoring session, she had been reviewing her notes when she could. Her clarity on the subject only grew with each read through, to the point that she didn't feel the impulse to cram the night before. That left her with more than enough time to get a good night's rest and wake up without a sour expression at the sound of her alarm.

After getting through the first round of classes earlier in the day, (Y/N) took advantage of the gap between courses to keep her promise of getting the next round of coffee on her. Walking into Stanfill's lecture hall, the pair of togo coffee cups warmed her palms (her's was nothing more than a hot chocolate while Harry's was a perfectly plain black coffee). Her eyes immediately darted to Harry's usual spot in the back.

There, his typical set up was confined to his bag, leaving only a pen at the ready to fill out the exam. Lifting his gaze from the phone in his hands, Harry caught sight of her almost immediately. The usual pink tint that colored his skin made its first appearance of the day when he caught her eyes already pinned to him.

As she climbed the stairs, Harry tucked his phone into his bag leaving only the pen on the table to twiddle with. "Hi Harry," she greeted him, edging into her own seat beside him carefully, "I promised I would get our next round, so I hope I got your order right."

His smile only brightened as she passed off the cup to him, the wide-framed glasses already perched on his nose now resting on the full of his smiling cheeks. "Oh wow, thank you," he beamed, showing more gratitude than she thought appropriate for a cup of coffee, "Y'didn't have to do this at all, thank you."

"Of course," she smiled, settling in her seat with a set up matching his own with a single black pen, "I haven't had a single panic attack about this test, and that's all thanks to you so this is the least I could do."

His nose perked with a sunburnt red dusted over the tip, "Still... thank you."

Before she could form any answer, Stanfill made his appearance. A hush fell over the unusually full class. Harry went quiet despite the way she could feel his eyes darting to her every few seconds. The professor handed out a pile of tests along the front row to be dispersed across the room.

By the time one of the waning piles made its way to Harry, he leaned over as he passed her the last remaining test.

"Good luck, (Y/N)."

She peeked a small smile at him. "Good luck, Harry," she whispered.

By the time Professor Stanfill's voice rang through the hall, officially announcing the start time, (Y/N) felt good.

Until she read the first question.

She read over the question a pair of times before even glancing at the multiple choices. The four answers listed below weren't anything she would have even guessed, making it that much worse for her. Nonetheless, she wouldn't let this one question completely throw her off; she'd read through the rest of them and answer all the ones she knew, and hopefully one of the other questions would help her figure out the solutions to the ones she missed.

Hopping through the list, scanning over the questions and their offered answers, (Y/N)'s hope slowly waned. She didn't know anything.

Even with Harry's monumental help, she knew nothing that she was suddenly being tested over.

Rolling her lips between her teeth, she tried her best to find any secluded answers hidden within other problems. Peeking to her right, she found Harry flying through the test with the multiple choices being colored in perfect bubbles. If he knew the answers, (Y/N) figured she was supposed to know them too since he taught her everything.

It was only when Harry flipped to the third page in the packet did she see the essay questions and formula breakdowns. That was when the very last of her hope drained, leaving only the warmth of the hot chocolate to keep her from going cold. How was she supposed to fill those out when she could barely navigate through offered answers?

But, she had to try something, right? She couldn't turn in a completely blank test; she'd always been pretty good at guessing, anyway.

Backtracking to the first question, she tried her hand at the complicated calculations, choosing the closest choice to her own answer. Down the line she went with minimal certainty, trying to make out some semblance of sense from the tangle that was forming in her brain. Beside her, Harry flew through the questions, fast enough that by the time she had painstakingly finished the first page, he was standing up with his bag slung over his shoulder.

He was the first to finish with a relaxed smile on his face, and a half finished cup of coffee in his hand.

With his glasses pushed up to the top of his head to hold his curls back, he scaled the staircase to the front of the hall. (Y/N) caught the quiet smile Professor Stanfill offered him as Harry started the finished pile in the bright purple tray on Stanfill's desk. She was sure he even knew that Harry had blown the entire exam out of the water.

(Y/N) watched as he lingered in the doorway. Harry caught her eye with an encouraging smile dipping a hint of his dimples into his cheeks. He offered her a private thumbs up in her direction, tipping his chin before heading out into the hall to leave her behind.

The rest of the ninety minute class (or forty-five by the time Harry had left her to her own devices) went by like humiliating torture. After edging through the multiple choices, she hesitantly flipped the page to the essay questions that taunted her. She tried her best to guess through them, recalling anything Harry might have taught her to aid in the dissection of the problems and breakdowns of the formulas.

She didn't have much hope remaining by the minute, but the singular drop she had clung to was wiped away the second Stanfill called time. Looking up from the unfinished handful of questions, (Y/N) found only three others that were in her same situation. At least they had an excuse, she decided, she didn't recognize any of them from the regular lectures so it wasn't like they had any of the notes or knowledge she should have.

(Y/N) couldn't meet Stanfill's eyes by the time she placed her test in the purple tray she had dreaded approaching since reading that first question. Still, she offered him a small smile she wasn't even sure he caught before she turned on her heel and followed the same path that she witnessed Harry forge almost an hour previous.

Sitting in her car, (Y/N) couldn't find it in herself to start the monotonous ritual of heading home right away. The high she had started the day with seemed so far away, not even the hot chocolate she barely managed to remember to take with her could sweeten her mood. How she was able to go from completely secure and confident in her knowledge to fucking herself over, she didn't know.

Today sucked.

A buzz from her phone took her attention, a grateful distraction. The notification lighting up her screen showed off a text from Harry.

Harry S.

How'd it go?!

Reading over the text only made her feel worse. Not even the smartest person in class—and probably the smartest person she knew—could make sense of anything in her head, preparing her in the smallest bit for an exam like this. It was embarrassing.

But, she wasn't going to tell him that. Not right now.

it was good i think! we'll see when grades are out !!

At least now she could go home.

—————

"Are you sure you don't want to come tonight? I don't want to leave you alone when you're sad," Ny pouted as she pressed (Y/N) again with one foot out the door.

"I promise I'm fine, I don't think I'd be much fun tonight anyway," (Y/N) reassured her, bundled in a too big sweatshirt and a pair of tattered sleep shorts.

While (Y/N) loved Ny, tonight was not the night to go to the Kappa Sig house and get drunk enough to moan and cry all over a bunch of people who don't care that she bombed her physics test. She'd much rather indulge in natural stress relief, instead.

"You're sure?"

"Promise," (Y/N) repeated, "Just text me if you need me to pick you up or anything."

"I will." Ny smiled though the motion leaned more towards a pout no matter how much (Y/N) tried to reassure her. "I'll tell you everything when I get home."

That drew a breathy laugh from (Y/N) before she sent Naomi off with a call to be careful and that she was looking forward to whatever stories she brought home. She reveled in the quiet that now coated the apartment, her only companions being arguing housewives with diamonds around their necks on the television. While their voices turned more and more shrill despite the lack of emotion on their frozen faces, (Y/N) sunk deeper into the worn couch cushions. At least she wasn't thinking about this afternoon.

Twisting a still drying strand of hair around her finger, now an episode and a half deep in her reality binge, she began to feel a bit antsy. The too tight fabric of her shorts brushed against her thighs in clinging runs with each shuffle of her legs. The T.V. was no longer holding her attention, making it easy for her mind to wander.

While she planned on indulging in some natural stress relief in the form of eating everything in the kitchen and listening to her music too loud while avoiding the pile of laundry sitting in her room, would it be a bit too on the nose to relieve her stress physically?

She hadn't tuned into any of H's shows in the past week, much too busy with the physics exam to find the time, but she thinks she's earned it after this morning. Abandoning her station on the worn out cushion, (Y/N) practically ran to her room. She dug her laptop out from her school bag, opening up a private tab before typing in the URL with an embarrassing amount of familiarity. She didn't even think before she signed in and searched for H's page, fingers crossed that he was planning a stream tonight and she wouldn't have to make up some elaborate fantasy in his absence. (Y/N) breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a new post on his page, finding a declaration colored in bubblegum pink that he would be going live five minutes from now.

Clicking the link to take her to the standby screen, she took the extra time to get comfortable in her room and put herself properly in the mood. Her hair was freshly washed and drying down her back in soft tumbles with her dewy skin moisturized and exfoliated. She deserved to be touched, she decided, even if it was by her own hand. Tugging off the now bothersome shorts that covered her bottom half, the anticipation of her plans caused her panties to cling to her core with drops of warmth weeping from her center.

Now pantless, she laid in the fluffs of her messy duvet now just a minute away from seeing the man of the hour (hopefully a little longer if (Y/N) had her way) pop up on her screen. Her toes curled in the duvet in anticipation as the time ticked a minute passed his promised screen time. Suddenly, despite the way the standby screen still sat in his place, his voice rang through the earbud she had dotted in her ear.

"Hello," he greeted them, the final syllable being strung out like a song, "How are—wait m'camera isn't on, is it? I swear, one day I'll get better at this." An airy laugh filtered through the tiny speakers in her ears, washing over her body. He'd barely even started and (Y/N) was already drawn in, willing to follow him wherever he took tonight's scene.

Finally, the retro-designed screen that held all his links and premium account information flickered out of sight only to be replaced by H himself. The usual frame of him from the neck down in the romantic lighting of his setup reeled (Y/N) in, her eyes dipping over the expanse of exposed skin he was giving them from the jump. A silky, cream colored button down hung off his shoulders, completely left open to show off the tan of his skin with the inky tattoos standing out starkly against the white shirt. A thin dusting of chest hair followed the line of his chest, the curls growing sparse towards his belly button only for his happy trail to take up the job of defining the line between his abdominal muscles. His nails were colored a fresh coat of mint green, remaining splotches decorating the cuticles making it clear this was a quick manicure before the show.

He looked like an angel, she decided, an angel shrouded in golden light that performed for his worshippers. She didn't have a problem with being his disciple, not when he looked like that.

"That's better," he smiled, the curl of his lips audible in the tone of voice, "Hello, for real this time. How was your day, love? How are you tonight?"

His chat flooded with comments, many focusing on the view of his body they were given so early into the stream. (Y/N) was sure he reveled in the praise, the shift in his usual programming causing extra heaps of affection and praise to be tossed his way; if she could see his face, she was sure a smug smile would be hooked into the corners of his mouth. Despite her more colorful counterparts sending an onslaught of adoring remarks disregarding his usual line of questioning, she still felt the urge to continue their tradition in hopes she would be noticed (it was practically foreplay for her, at this point).

sunflowerssweetheart: not super good but thats okay bc im here now !:) how was ur day ?

There was a pause as he lent closer to the screen, his cross necklace dangling from his neck to catch the light. She hoped he was looking for hers.

"Oh, sweetheart," he cooed, a buzzing sort of relief draping over her form at the sound of her pet name, "'M so sorry to hear that. Y'said you're feeling better now, though, right?"

Jittery fingers typed out her response, the keystrokes messy before she cleaned them up with the help of her backspace.

sunflowerssweetheart: yeah just tired and a little disappointed still but this is already making me feel not so bad:)

Clicking his tongue, (Y/N) could see his neck move as if H was shaking his head in reprimand at her. The thought caused a shiver to run down her spine.

"We can't have y'feeling 'not so bad', sweetheart. I like to make y'feel good, you know that."

Her breath caught as his deep voice wrapped around her pet name, a faux scolding tone tinting the words. He wanted to make her feel good—her, personally. Were shows like this supposed to feel so intimate?

"What would make y'feel good, sweetheart? 'M listening," he prompted her, his tongue lazing around the drawl of his words.

(Y/N) readied herself to type back an answer just before she saw him shift in his seat. The creamy button up she wished was her own was slowly being shrugged from his shoulders, unveiling the full of his inked arm and the bare one that boasted a light sheen as accentuated by the candle-like glow of his setup. Her eyes followed him as the top was dropped to the floor, H standing a second later to show the top of his fitted brown trousers. The star of the show was the elastic waist of his boxers that peeked out from the top of his pants, the brandname stitched across the band. The expanse of his hands dropped to the button of his pants, framed by the laurels etched into his hips like arrows directing her vision.

Swallowing thickly, she typed out her simple response, hoping he would still catch it though the chatroom was flying past without a lag time.

sunflowersweetheart: just need u daddy

"Oh," he breathed, the sound being drawn out in a lusty pull, "So, daddy'll make y'feel better? I see." His hand on his fly dragged down the top hem of his pants, opening the waistline to put the bulge in his white boxers on display. "I need y'to listen really carefully for me, then, so daddy can make y'feel good. Follow me, okay, sweetheart?"

Follow him, she did. Her eyes were pinned to the motion of his hands. He disrupted the frame that the open fly of his pants created round his covered cock, pushing them down low on his legs to leave only his boxers as the final barrier he was teasing her with. The thin fabric of the underwear left little to the imagination, showing the stiff curve in his shaft and the girthy head that leaked a pearl of precum into the fabric.

"Ready for me?"

She wished he could see just how desperately she nodded her head, how her breathing stuttered only to quicken a moment later.

The rumbles in the chatroom seemed to be enough encouragement for him, a smug laugh being let out off screen before he reached his broad hand under the waist of his underwear. The outline of his knuckles grabbing his shaft could be seen clearly through the tight fit while his other hand tugged down his boxers in a quick pull.

"'M already s'hard for you, darling, see?" he crooned with his hand fisted around the base of his dick, "Fucking hurts, almost."

The dark thatch of trimmed hair that bordered his cock stood out starkly against the white boxers, framing his hand as he made a torturously slow pass over the shaft. His prick jumped in his hand as he reached the head, a choked moan being sucked from H's chest when a drip of precum seeped from his slit. The vein vined around the underside seemed to throb under the attention.

"You know how much I'd stretch y'out, sweetheart? All the way in your tummy, right, baby?"

His own words seemed to spur him on, causing him to drag the full of his hand over his shaft in rough pulls. His green painted thumb swiped over his tip every time he reached, dragging the pearly fluid down the rest of his prick. Slick noises sounded with each stroke of his hand only to be interrupted by the sound of H's moans and breathless noises. Since he was still standing, he shifted his stance to lead with his slim hip facing the camera with his cock out in front of him.

(Y/N)'s own fingers teased the waist of her panties, dipping beneath the elastic. A layer of goosebumps rose in her wake, skimming over the soft skin between her thighs. Her folds were already slick from the words that were echoing through her headphones with her gaze pinned on H's movements.

"I'd make y'feel so much better sweetheart, make y'forget all about today," he groaned, slowing his strokes to tight tugs around his shaft, "You'd only have to think about daddy and how hard 'm fucking you."

A breathless moan was taken from (Y/N)'s throat, dropping her mouth into an open gape. Her breathing stuttered, her lower tummy jumping under the palm of her hand. She pictured him above her, lining his cock along the curve of her tummy to show just how far inside he would reach, a visual that caused her hole to clench around nothing. God, she was happy Ny was out.

She hadn't even realized her eyes had fluttered shut until she heard H's voice ring out in a heady groan, his hand stroking faster and harder along the stiffness of his cock. He had moved to sit comfortably in the office chair fixed in front of the camera, giving a full view of each of his ministrations. The large of his free hand expanded over his bare thigh, fingers denting into the ink of his tiger tattoo as the tight ring of his fingers worked over his length. The dim light that illuminated his setup worked into a romantic glow that glinted off of his tanned skin, each of his movements and the flexing of his muscles being highlighted.

"Oh, fuck me, sweetheart," he groaned, his hand visibly tightening as he reached the head of his cock, "Tell daddy how good y'feel."

Slipping her fingers inside her clenching hole, (Y/N) tried to emulate the passes of his hand over his prick. She wanted to fake the intimacy, weave her story as if he really were fucking her like he promised. The chat below his stream was going crazy, running too fast for her hooded gaze to catch (not that she wanted to look away from H, anyway). Still, she knew he was expecting a response from her if the use of sweetheart was anything to go by.

sunflowerssweetheart: feel s good daddy my fingers arent you but im trying:(

"Oh I know, sweetheart," he cooed a softly mocking tone, legs widening as he quickened his pace, "Your fingers can't replace m'cock, but y'still feel good, right? That's all I want. Daddy feels s'good thinking about you, sweetheart."

A thicker stream of his precum seeped from his slit, dripping over his length and his fingers nestled under the head. With her fingers tucked inside and her palm smeared over her clit, (Y/N) felt like she couldn't breathe at the sight. The fact he was doing this based off the kind of day she had, all of his dirty talk littered with the name he had picked just for her, was bringing her closer to the edge than she thought possible so quickly.

"Daddy," she moaned, voice breathy and pitched as she sunk into her sheets. Her skin was flush from the humid air that seemed to settle over her body, with her fingers soaked to the knuckle inside of her. This was so much better than going out.

"Gonna cum with me?" he breathed, H's voice filtered through her earbuds in lazy pulls, "Gonna cum with your pretty fingers stuffed inside? Cum for daddy, sweetheart."

Her hold clenched around her pumping fingers, his words echoing in her head while her eyes couldn't be torn from his stroking hand.

sunflowerssweetheart: yes yes yes i want you to cum with me daddy please pl ease

"You're so cute, sweetheart," his hips bucked roughly into his hand, thighs and stomach tensed under his tanned, sweaty skin, "You're gonna wait for daddy, then?" H sunk deeply into his chair, everything just under his chin now in frame, though his heaving chest and stroking hand was what kept her attention. He fucked up into his hand every few strokes with his fist tight around his length and his palm spanning over the thick of his thigh. "You'd let me cum inside, right, sweetheart? Fill y'up and let it leak out."

sunflowerssweetheart: i would daddy i would i want that so bad please

His throat bobbed, his cross necklace shining in the thin smattering of curls in the middle of his chest. He focused his attention on the tip of his prick, swiping his thumb headily over his slit as he cupped the sensitive nerve endings. "Fuck—'M gonna cum soon. Cum with daddy, sweetheart, cum with me."

Her hand in her panties worked in rapid motion; her palm was pressed deeply against her clit with her fingers buried in her weeping hole. (Y/N) tried her best to keep her eyes open, her attention fixed on H as he performed the last act of his show, but the second the first spurt of his cum pumped from his cock, her vision dimmed. She came with him as she moaned into her empty bedroom, his voice echoing into her ears. Her head was thrown back into her pillows, neck bared with her back arched. Her hips raised to meet her hand even harder, fucking up into the vision of H pumping into her she had in her mind.

Forcing herself to crack open her eyes, she saw her performer still pumping his cock with his bare chest now covered in a different pearly sheen than he had started the stream with. Aftershocks wracked through her body as her fingers stroked the soft spot within herself, unable to hold back as she looked at him. Her voice was left in tatters as only breathy moans and deep inhales sounded through her throat.

In tandem, she was able to regain full consciousness as H came down himself. Though his limbs were shaky, chest shining from the remnants of his release, he still cleaned himself up. (Y/N) pulled her hand from her panties, listening intently for the outro that would work as her aftercare for the evening.

With his cock now tucked back into his white boxers, H righted himself in his chair. His chest was still a flushed pink, heaving under his deep breaths as he started his goodbyes. "I adore y'so much, sweetheart. Thank y'for spending your night with me. I'll be back soon, wait for me."

He lingered for a moment, the chat yearning for a second performance before the stream blacked out. The tip meter emptied along with the thread, leaving (Y/N) in a crumpled mess in the puffs of her disastrous sheets around her. Blinking up at the ceiling, she tried to catch her breath.

She probably needed to do some laundry after this.

Her body lagged after her decision, allowing her a moment longer to lay in bed before she shucked her soaked underwear from her legs. Though she moved slowly, she was definitely relaxed; thoughts of this morning had all but disappeared over the last hour. Even the thought of doing laundry didn't bother her, muscles relaxed and mind working through a pleasant haze that left her in too good of a mood to be dampened.

As she collected her sheets with the shorts and underwear she had abandoned, a notification dinged from (Y/N)'s laptop. She opted to ignore it for a moment, figuring she would check her phone for the text message after she had the washer started. But, the notification never transferred onto her phone like usual.

With the washing machine rumbling from down the hall, (Y/N) plucked up her half closed laptop. Her eyes widened when she realized where the notification had come from.

It was the cam-site.

Sure, she'd received impersonal messages before from chat bots promoting sales on premium content or new creators that were apparently a big deal, but those were few and far between. Especially after she refused the dozens of popups asking if she wanted to add her credit card information for more 'arousing' content. This was different.

Opening up her inbox, she found it was a message from H, the notification entitled One (1) Unread Message from TreatPeopleWKisses!

This was nothing more than another automated message, right? Maybe he had sent out another promotion for one-on-one sessions this weekend.

Double clicking on the link, the page opened up to a new thread she never dreamed of making.

treatpeoplewkisses: hi! im sorry to hear you had a bad day. i hope i was able to make you feel a little bit better!:)

(Y/N) didn't know what to say back. This was not something she ever thought she'd deal with, no matter how often her lusty thoughts had urged her to message him out of desperation. How was she supposed to respond to him, especially after the stream they had just experienced together?

sunflowerssweetheart: you really did actually!! thank u for acknowledging all of my comments and everything:) good show!

She immediately cringed after she pressed send, rethinking each word as she reread it. How was she able to come off so stiff and uncomfortable considering the things she's already said to him in front of other viewers with such ease?

treatpeoplewkisses: of course! let me know if you ever need anything:) can't have my sweetheart feeling sad

Though she had already kind of collected that she was his sweetheart, this confirmation made her heart beat faster and her eyes widen. With shaky fingers, she keyed back a quick response before this went any further.

sunflowerssweetheart: thank u h:) can i ask about one on one pricing then??

treatpeoplewkisses: don't worry about any of that, sweetheart. this is just for us, so its on me:)

Maybe, she wouldn't have to wish to meet him anymore, not if this kept up.

—————

(Y/N) had been dreading the following Wednesday since the day she bombed her test. She knew Stanfill was going to be releasing grades by then and she didn't want to know just how lowly she'd scored. Even just hearkening back to last Friday's session gave her a spike in anxiety. Ny had been the best distraction she could have asked for since she confessed how poorly she felt about the exam, the entire weekend then filled with activities designed to distract. Even when Monday rolled around, her roommate did her best to divert (Y/N)'s attention with her own problems she was having with the meddling she was doing in the love life of one of the baristas at Caffeine Dreams. (He didn't ask for help, (Y/N) knew that, but Ny couldn't help but scheme even if the plots rarely worked in her favor). But, Wednesday nights were now reserved for Naomi's study group, leaving (Y/N) alone when the notification from her student portal came through

It took her another ten minute before she grew the courage to open the app, (Y/N) too busy wallowing in her anxiety to take the plunge right away. When she finally flicked open the notification and let her eyes dart across the numbers depicted as her grade, she couldn't even fully compute her official standing but she knew the red hue was not a good sign. She didn't want to sound dramatic, but in all honesty, she was devastated. She had such high hopes for this exam, never having felt so prepared in a subject she struggled so heavily with. The low score only served to taunt her, tainting the somewhat pleasant day she'd had. Maybe she wasn't as smart as she thought she was.

(Y/N) had only gotten a full five minutes of wallowing in before another notification shook the phone in her palm. It was a text. From Harry. Because of course it was.

Harry S.

Stanfill just posted results for the exam! How did you do?!

She knew it was never Harry's intention to embarrass her or make her feel inferior in any sense of the word, but she didn't feel anything but stupid as she read over his message. Part of her wanted to keep up the act she had started when he texted her after the test last Friday; that she had done as well as she expected and could avoid confessing just how much of a failure she was again. She didn't know if she was up to telling him how easily she had wasted his time, the study sessions doing nothing to make the connections she needed.

But, the rest of her knew that Harry would never make her feel less than—he'd probably try to see the bright side in it, more than anything. She could picture him messaging back, telling her that sure, maybe she did fail but at least it wasn't a zero! She figured she could use a little of that blind optimism.

(Y/N) hesitated for only a moment before dissolving to tell Harry the truth.

i bombed:(

The bright blue bubble stood out starkly against the plain black background of her messages, only to be joined a second later with the three grey dots appearing in the bottom corner.

Harry S.

Really?

(Y/N) didn't offer any kind of response other than a cropped screenshot of her grade, displaying the red numbers for him to clearly see. This time the dots returned only to react like a glitch as they disappeared and reappeared every few seconds. He seemed to finally decide on what to say as a short message was sent through.

Harry S.

I'm so sorry (Y/N) I thought we had gone over everything you needed last week. I'm so so sorry

While she had guessed he would offer a heaping dose of healthy positivity, she figured this was a bit more fitting. In true Harry fashion, he was taking credit for her failure. She knew that if she had passed and thanked him for his help, he would have easily deflected and given her all the praise. Because he was sweet like that. That was the only thing that had managed to cause a smile to break her features since learning her fate.

its not ur fault at all dont apologize!! i just didn't know any of it and that's not ur fault

Harry S.

Are you going to talk to Stanfill about a retake?

(Y/N) almost shuddered at the thought of going through those ninety minutes again. Harry wouldn't be there for even ten minutes this time, properly leaving her to the wolves. She didn't know if she could do it. Anyway, who's to say she would do any better a second time; maybe the questions would be switched up or reworded, but she doubted they'd be any less confusing.

i probably should but idk if it'll do any good tbh

Harry S.

We could study some more! Go over everything that was on the test or that you wanted more help on!

When (Y/N) didn't respond right away, another text came through.

Please. I want to make this right

He didn't have to make anything right, as he did nothing wrong to begin with, but (Y/N) couldn't turn him down. She not only needed the help, but it was a bit too easy to picture Harry with his brow cinched and lip bitten in guilt. No matter if she told him it was none of his fault, she knew he wouldn't believe it in his sensitive heart.

do u want to meet up at the library tonight then???

Harry S.

Yes! I just got out of class if youre free?

(Y/N) peeked at the time on the top corner of her phone. She had nothing to do for the rest of the night considering Ny wouldn't be home and she didn't have the energy to do anything but nap away her problems. The thought of seeing Harry in his cozy sweaters with the soft green of his eyes looking at her with a lack of frustration she would have expected from someone as smart as him to be teaching someone like her, made her insides warm. If he was willing to help, she shouldn't turn him down.

yeah ill be there in 20 min ! thank u harry

She really hoped he understood how much she really meant that declaration of gratitude. Even if he didn't, she'd get a chance to tell him in person soon. She only hoped she could get it out before she cried in humiliation when she remembered how bad her grade was.

Harry S.

I'll go save our table then!! Thank YOU:) drive safe

Of course, he said thank you. Because he was cute.

—————

Now that she knew where she was going, (Y/N) found what she was now considering their table in the back of the second floor of the library with ease. Harry sat there with a searching expression twisting his features, a warm cup of hot chocolate on the table in lieu of his usual study materials. His hair was mussed with his glasses thrown messily on the top of his head to hold back the curls as he scanned his worried gaze across the stacks. The second he caught sight of her, his bitten lips downturned into a sympathetic frown.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said as soon as she reached their table, letting her own thoughts spill now that she wasn't sitting alone in her apartment, "I'm sorry, I wasted your time. I thought I knew everything I needed. And, I'm sorry for making you come out here again." She swallowed around the tightness that was developing in her throat.

A heavy crewneck was draped over Harry's form, the toes of his white Vans peeking out from the flared denim on his legs as he looked up at her with worry lines marring his forehead. He shook his head, disrupting the curls that swirled over his forehead and almost knocked his glasses off, "Don't be sorry. Don't have to be sorry for anything; y'didn't waste m'time, and you're not making me be here at all. We'll jus' try harder this time and go over anything you can remember that tripped you up on the exam, don't worry."

Dropping her bag, it laid dead at her feet with a few of her books toppling out as (Y/N) fell into her seat with the same heaviness dragging her down. She all but curled into herself where she sat, shoulders falling as her hands came to cradle her flushed face. (Y/N) rubbed at her scrunched eyes with none-too-gentle fingers, already sensing the burn that was building behind them, "I'm so dumb."

Her whispered words drew Harry closer, his form just visible from the corner of her shrouded vision. She couldn't look at him directly when she knew he would have that puppy-sweet sympathetic look on his face. "You're not dumb, (Y/N). This kind of stuff is hard, you know that."

"Then why are you able to understand it so well, and I can barely grasp the basics?"

She didn't mean to be so argumentative when he was only trying to help her and console the threat of tears behind her eyes, but this whole situation was a little too embarrassing for her to be pleasant. Nonetheless, her cloudy mood didn't deter Harry at all from his mission of reassurance.

"Because I've spent way too much time with this subject, (Y/N). It's easy to understand when it's all you do," he said, a soft smile evident in his quiet tone.

Peeking at him through the cracks in her fingers, she found Harry with a boyish curl on his lips and soft eyes that pleaded with her to believe him. If someone like him couldn't even get her to retain some of the most basic information on this subject, she didn't know where she was supposed to go from here.

Taking her hands from her face, she let the full of her emotions be told from her face. "I just feel so stupid and embarrassed. I thought I was going to do so good, and I couldn't even finish the test, Harry. The last two pages were blank because the multiple choice tripped me up so bad—and that's supposed to be the easy part!" Before she could help herself, a sheen of tears lacquered over her eyes and warped the edges of her vision.

(Y/N) shook her head in an effort to somehow put off her tears, the tips of her fingers coming to rest under her eyes in an attempt to catch the drops that threatened to fall. Beside her, Harry deflated in his spot.

"Don't be embarrassed, (Y/N), you're not stupid. You've got nothing to be embarrassed about, really," he cooed, reaching for her before hesitating. He worried his eyes over her form, the first line of tears escaping down her cheek catching his attention before he bit his bottom lip between his teeth. "Can I..."—he paused with a swallow, his shaky hand reaching cautiously towards the line of her shoulders—"Can I hug you?"

She didn't even hesitate before (Y/N) nodded her head, wishing for his worried look to dissipate. Very carefully, Harry carefully draped his arm over her shoulders, scooting himself to the very edge of his chair to be as close to her as he could manage. His movements were unsure and slow, hesitation clear on his features as if he wasn't sure he was touching her right. (Y/N) barely heeded his caution, readily welcoming him and the warmth of his body. She twisted to face him with the full of her form. Her knees knocked against his own in her rush to accept his affection. Harry didn't back off an inch as she jostled him, not even when she melted into him in a mess of limbs. Her arms wrapped around his middle with her cheek laid on his shoulder. Harry stiffened for just a second before he laid his arms fully around her, hugging her just like he promised.

The cover of the bookshelves around them made the moment that much more intimate, cloaked in their private corner. (Y/N)'s tears were fleeting though the comfort she drew from Harry wasn't something she was willing to let go of, especially not when she felt the soft of his cheek pillowed on the top of her head.

"'S gonna be okay, (Y/N), I promise. You're not dumb, and you've got no reason to be embarrassed about that exam. We're going to work on this, and figure out what tripped you up so y'can be ready. This retake is going to be easy, I promise." His hands on her back worked up a hesitant rhythm, running in careful strokes over the planes of her form.

"As easy as it was for you?" she sniffled.

"Easier." The smile in his tone was clear despite the volume being nothing but a whisper. "We'll take all the time y'need to feel ready; jus' tell me when and I'll be there. I don't mind helping you; there's nowhere else I'd rather be."

It was easy to believe him when he held her like this.

—————

"Hey, where were you?"

The sight of Naomi balled up in her preferred recliner with a dinner of pizza bagels greeted (Y/N) as she locked the apartment door behind her. The blonde shag of Ny's hair was scooped into a clumsy bun on the top of her head, eyes wide with relief now that her friend was home. She watched after her as (Y/N) practically floated to her room with her school bag in tow like an afterthought.

Kicking off her shoes in her room, (Y/N) shouted through the open door, "I was at the library with Harry."

A smile perked itself on her lips at the sound of his name. If she concentrated hard enough, she could feel the ghost of his arms around her and the soft of his cheek squished on the top of her head. He had been unbelievably gentle with her the whole afternoon, making it hard to say goodbye to him after he walked her to her car. The best part about it all was that he never once belittled her or made her feel silly after she recovered from her breakdown; he didn't look at her with a precious glaze over his eyes, or dance around when she grew frustrated. He was the best (and cuddliest) study buddy she could have asked for.

"Was your grade as bad as you were scared it was, then?" Ny called, breaking her from the memories of Harry's phantom hold.

"It was," (Y/N) confirmed, eyes dropping to her bag where it lay on the floor with the heavily highlighted notes Harry lent her to study in her extra time. A smile cracked at her features as she thought about the way he offered them to her with a shy curl of his lips. "So, he's helping me study for the retake."

She emerged from her room free of her school materials though the smile on her face remained with thoughts of her tutor. When Ny hadn't responded by the time (Y/N) took her usual spot on the worn corner cushion of their couch, she chanced a look in her direction. The blue of Ny's eyes were squinted at her with a smile fighting at the corners of her lips.

"What's got you all smiley, then?"

"Nothing," (Y/N) deflected with a shrug, "I'm just relaxed, finally, that's all."

The housewives on their television that were gearing up to fight over an expensive dinner weren't enough to distract her roommate when she looked at her with sparks in her eyes. "You like him, don't you!"

"I don't know, maybe," (Y/N) countered, not even bothering trying to hide her smile anymore. She tucked her hands into her lap, fingers playing a lovestruck game as she spoke, "We've only really talked about class and stuff, but, Ny, he's so cute. He's always wearing these soft sweaters, and he's so smart and so nice. Today, I kind of had a breakdown when I got to the library about my grade, and you know how some people who are that smart can be really condescending? Harry's not like that at all. He's really kind and was so gentle with me today, and he's just... nice to be around, I don't know how to say it. I don't really think I'm much his type, but I really like spending time with him."

The whole time Ny listened with a bright smile on her face, nibbling at her pizza bagel like it were popcorn at the movies. But, when (Y/N) confessed her assumption about what Harry's type may be, the grin dropped. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She shrugged, already familiar with the idea that even if she liked Harry, there was a high chance he wouldn't feel the same. "I doubt I'm his first candidate considering he had to teach me the same stuff twice. I don't think I'd be a very entertaining date for someone like him."

"As if he cares! When did you meet up at the library with him anyway?"

"Around one, I think. Why?" (Y/N)'s brows cinched to meet in the middle at the hard detour Ny made in conversation.

"(Y/N), I'm pretty sure he left in the middle of his class to meet up with you," she started, her dinner abandoned on the paper plate on her lap, "He almost knocked me over when he came out of Cleary's room right when you texted me that you wouldn't be home for a while. I think he was going to meet you."

"No, he told me that he had just been dismissed from class," (Y/N) countered, not wanting to cling too hard to the hope Naomi was braiding together.

"Nope, Kylee's in that lecture and she doesn't get out until 2:15. I saw him pretty much sprinting to the library right when it sounds like you were meeting him," Ny stated pointedly, "I think he dropped everything to see you. So, to me at least, that means you have a good chance of being his 'type'."

(Y/N) allowed herself to steep in the idea that he may have the same eagerness to be around her as she did him. She couldn't wait for the next study session, she decided. Maybe she'd have to stop complaining about H being the closest thing she had to a boyfriend.

—————