Word count: 642
Y/N loves Harry's hair.
Like, really... really loves it.
It's gotten to a certain length in which it's not super curly anymore, but there's still a slight wave to it, and Y/N loves it.
She runs her fingers through it whenever she can, and she's even gone as far as to making it her job to wash his hair when they shower together.
"I can wash my own hair, lovie," Harry chuckles, wrapping his arms around Y/N's waist as she works the shampoo into a lather on his scalp.
"I know," she smiles, "but I like doing it for you... so, hush." She playfully sticks her tongue out at him, making him chuckle again, and close his eyes as he enjoys the head massage Y/N throws in while giving his hair a good wash.
She reminisces on the nice memory as she's sat on the couch with Harry, her left leg propped up while her right is bent, sort of in a criss-cross fashion (if her left leg were crossed as well) and her fingers - of course - tangled in Harry's hair. Her nails scrape across his scalp, making him purr almost at the sensation, and she bops him on the nose with her free hand.
"That feels nice; like my own personal ASMR." His voice is almost slurred, practically in a trance from the soothing stimulus. "Don't stop."
"Are we still talking about me playing with your hair?" Y/N jokes.
Harry juts her in the side with his elbow softly, a smirk playing on his lips. "Nothing but a filthy mind, aren't ya? I'm sitting here enjoying a nice scalp massage, and you turned it dirty."
"I learned from the best." She pulls her hands from his hair to reach for her phone, earning her a low whine from Harry.
"Nuh-uh," he pleads. "Keep going." He grabs her wrists and leads her hands back to his hair, placing her fingers poised up on their tips on his scalp. She doesn't budge, knowing Harry will get whiny soon, and she likes to see that. He lets out a child-like plea, begging for her to continue what she was doing earlier, and it makes Y/N giggle. "Baby..." He takes it upon himself to move her fingers for her, although not being satisfied with the result. "I want you to do it."
She gives in, moving her fingers at her own will in small, circular motions to appease her boyfriend. "Spoiled," she teases.
"M'no' spoiled." Y/N yanks at his hair - a bit firmly - and Harry groans. "Okay, maybe I am a li'l."
"A lot." She twirls a piece of hair that had fallen on his forehead. "I've been doing this for half an hour."
"Don't act like you don't love it. I know you do."
"Whatever." She yanks at his hair again, giggling.
"I'd play with your hair too, but you never let me." A pout appears on his lips, as well as a frown-y expression making his eyebrows pinch together.
"Because my hair gets frizzy if you play with it when it's dry!"
"I could play with it in the mornings before you shower."
Y/N hadn't thought of that. "Oh, my God, you're right."
"Aren't I always?"
Y/N pulls her hands from his hair once more, making him gasp and lay his head in her lap. "No, I'm sorry!" He places her hands back in his hair, his hands atop hers, and their fingers linked together. "Please, keep going."
"That's what I thought. Now, put on the newest season of Stranger Things. I know you didn't watch it because when I brought up the Mind Flayer, you didn't know what I was taking about."
Harry would do anything if it meant Y/N could play with his hair forever.
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Credit to haaarry on tumblr
