Boyfriend Harry (Patreon)

Hello! This is just some soft boyfriend harry to get us through the day! a little self indulgent and makes me feel soft so I hope you guys like it :)

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“I don’t know why you watch this shite, Love,” Harry sounds worn down, looks dog tired, and appears to be both considering he didn’t bother putting his satchel up properly, instead letting it plop on the ground beside the couch and toes off his boots right next to it. Normally he is quite meticulous in how he places his things after he’s been out and about all day, but when it’s been a particularly long day he leaves things in a cluttered mess. His keys drop onto the coffee table with a clatter, the smoothie he’d been sipping on sits upon the glass with no coaster, and he haphazardly hands her a box of assorted donuts with a torn seal showing that he’d broken into them in the car (he arranged them out of order because he knows Y/N likes them better this way). 

Y/N immediately scoots over though there was plenty of space next to her for him to sit, she places the couch pillow on her lap as her silent invitation for him to have a lie down. She didn’t know much of his day but what she did know was he was worried about the tracklisting of the album, a summer holiday with his family that he’d told them he would plan (letting it all fall on his shoulders), and his calves were sore from an intensive hike the day prior. The poor thing had been a bit of a grump as of late so she made her presence light, not wanting disturb him any. She let him come to her, and that’s when she’d open up her ear, give advice if he asked, or gave him a cuddle when he pouted his mouth and held his arms out for her. 

Sometimes he just put too much on his own shoulders; it weighed him down, made his brain and body feel heavy and muggy and he hates that (once, when he was a bit soused on tequila shots, he’d admitted to her that there are days she’s the only thing that can make him feel light and fluffy, which is why he loved her so much -- she smothered him in kisses and said she loved him too for the first time). If she could alleviate any of that pressure in anyway, she would, and if that meant spending an hour or so combing her fingers through his hair then so be it. It’s not like she minds it any -- she actually quite likes it actually -- so when he takes the invitation, she smiles softly. 

He’s a load of gangly, nimble limbs that work to crawl onto the couch, flipping himself around and lying his head against the pillow in her lap with a contented sigh. Promptly her fingers find his soft curls, working through the strands, scratching gently at his scalp, “All of it’s bullocks y’know?” 

“What is?” Her brows pinch. 

“The show, Babe,” he looks up at her, pale green eyes puffy and soft despite him dogging her choice of television, “S’a madhouse, they’re all talkin’ behind one another’s backs, most of ‘em are unnecessarily loud, they play like they’re basing it on personality but s’almost all looks, and there’s no hope for them outside the show, ‘cos life’s loads different outside a fancy secluded villa, innit?” 

She hums lowly, as if she hadn’t heard this same rant plenty of times before, “You love it though.” She reminds him, tracing her fingers behind the back of his ear. 

His brows furrow, turning his face into her stomach, “I know, I do, but m’not happy about it.” 

A small laugh rattles her and his lips quirk into a small smile. They sit there quietly for a little while, Harry letting his eyes flutter shut and Y/N continued to watch the show. Sometimes she allows her fingers to trail to his face, drawing looping patterns into the smooth, soft skin of his cheek. Tracing his eyebrow, the curve of his nose, the corner of his lip. The muscles in his face twitched some but he was enjoying it, from the small hums he was giving. When she’s at his mouth he even parts his lips and nips at her finger tip, smiling when she squeaked out of surprise. 

It was relaxing for the both of them she thinks. She could feel the tension in his body releasing, slowly but surely, like smoke dissipation and she was the fan. Y/N thinks he might fall asleep if not for the gasp that leaves her, when a particularly harsh dig was jabbed in one of the contestants directions, and his eyes popped open, rolling over to the side to stare at the screen. Biting hard on her lips, she looks down on him and when he feels her stare, flickering his eyes up at her, “What?” 

“You wanna try out as a contestant?” 

His brows raise, “Rather spend a night with you after chili.” 

“Stuff it!” She slaps his cheek lightly, shaking her head, “You know you’d love it, wouldn’t you? You’d go in there, be the sweetheart everyone steps forward for, they’d go on about your dreamy eyes and the lovely curls,” she ran her fingers through his hair to punctuate it, “You’d go in all like --” she clears her throat to deepen her voice so she could mock him, “Oh, m’lookin’ for someone who’s down to earth. . .has a nice pretty face. . .if she liked a few old, underground indie bands that’d be a plus, wouldn’t it? Ooh, and she has to deal with me when I’m a grumpy lug in the morning if I can’t have me tea how I like it so I beg ‘er to go out and get me almond milk at six in the AM since I need’a shower, even though she’s in her jammies, and when she comes back, I’ll give her gross morning breath kisses and won’t let her go back to bed.” 

He pouts his mouth at her again, “Well, why would I need’a go on the show when I’ve got you for that already?” 

Puckering his lips up at her, she presses her fingers into them, but he merely kisses them instead. 

“You’re too good to me aren’t you, Babe? Didn’t even have t’a go on a show to find you, you were just presented t’a me like a lil present.” He pinched her thigh, “Sweet lil’ drunk thing, crawled your way into my heart.” 

When they had meant, it had been after Y/N had done a little bit of bar hopping. A bit of bar hopping that included a lot of shots, a lot of dancing, a lot of telling guys to fuck off because she just came to have fun. Then her friends met up with Harry’s friends, they took them to a fancier, more high end club  and on the way all Y/N’s friends had did all they could to sober her up in the car, forcing her water, turning the cold air on blast, having her do her ABC’s forwards and backwards. Y/N hadn’t understood why until they pulled outside the party, “Listen,” her friend Lauren had begun, “Don’t freak out, but Harry Styles will be there, and you can’t freak out.” 

But she freaked out in the car. Course she did! Her eyes had popped from her sockets and she’d squealed and swatted their friend Nathan on the thigh, “You fuckers! Why’d you let me drink so much t’night? Wha’ if he hates me?”” 

Quite the opposite actually happened, as they made their way to a secluded section and they were introduced to everyone. Y/N had bent down to hear what Harry was saying as he greeted her, shaking his hand, but she lost her balance and tipped forward and caught herself on his shoulder, “Sorry!” She’d apologized quickly, and before her drink could spill on him, she tilted it back so that it sprayed on her dress instead. 

“Oh shit,” he shook his head, “You should’ve just let it spray on me, Babe.” 

She looked down at her dress, now stained purple instead of the pretty silver it had been, but she shrugged and tried not to let her heart stop when he’d called her Babe, “S’okay, yeah? I think I got this off a sales rack for about five cents so honestly it ought’a have come like this anyway.” 

He chuckled, giving her a grin, “Have a seat then, lemme go get you some napkins.” 

Y/N had prided herself on not being clearly drunk but Harry had admitted to her later he knew she was proper sozzled. He took care of her that night, chatted with her, made her feel all types of butterflies and when her friends came to let her know they were leaving, she pouted deep, “But we were talking about TV. Y’know he loves Call the Midwife?” 

“Lauren wants to leave, Hun, come on.” 

Harry cleared his throat though, “I’ll make sure she gets home, how bout? S’that alright with you?” 

They had raised their brows and Y/N nodded adamantly so they left her. 

They were both quite drunk by then, and Harry had the driver take them around to his house. She thinks they might have had sex that night if not for her; she’d gotten all dressed down for him, was waiting for him in his bed like he’d asked her to but by the time he’d finished brushing his teeth and prepping himself in the bathroom she had fallen right to sleep.

Harry later told her from the moment he’d walked out to her snoring on his pillows, he’d been smitten. 

Which led them here, his head nestled in her lap, and Y/N still petting all over his face, narrowly avoiding his playfully snapping his teeth at her hand. When he actually gets her finger it’s but a little nibble but she hisses and withdraws her hand right away feigning hurt, his face warps into one of guilt and worry, “Oh baby, I’m sorry,” he murmurs, grabbing her finger and pushing it to his mouth to kiss it better. It’s when she starts to giggle that he knows she is faking it, “Idiot,” he drops her hand but Y/N shakes her head, slipping from underneath him and maneuvering them in a mess of limbs so that she had crawled over the top of him. Y/N grabs him by his hands, their fingers slotting and she pushes down on the flat of his palms, straddling his lap and her bum rests against his crotch. 

He is quite strong, trying to buck her off, but she starts wiggling her bum and he gasped a little. He slips his hands down her sides, to her hips, squeezing at them, “Oof, stop Babes or we’ll have a problem.” 

She pretends she doesn’t understand him, brows furrowing as she squirms in his lap again, “Hmm? Wha’s wrong?” 

“Baby,” his tone is warning, but she wiggles again, “Fuck sake,” he pats at her bum, then squeezing there, and the only reason he’s warding it away is because he knows she has no intent on pursuing it. She likes to tease him and if he were to get anything, it would be later on tonight when he’s so hard he can barely walk without a moan. 

She leans forward, smearing a kiss over his mouth, and when she tries to draw back he leans forward and rubs the tips of their noses together, “I’ll suck your cock later if you order us take out.” 

With this, she pulls from atop of him, where he’d begun to awaken in his boxers, and she flops on the other end of the couch, reaching for his hands and pulling him so he was sitting up. He drags her back closer to him but only so he can kiss the top of her head, murmuring, “Little devil you,” against her hair and she giggles, nestling into his chest, “D’ya want the fried rice or lo mein as your main?” 

“Mm, both,” she responds and he nods, reaching for his phone on the table before leaning back and holding his arm out, beckoning her back into his side, “Could you ask for the. . .wha’s the sauce?”

“Chili bean?” He guesses and she nods as he scrolls through his contacts, “Anything else apart from the usual?” 

“Another kiss?” She pouts her lips, craning her neck with her mouth puckered and Harry rolls his eyes before submitting to it. 

“I’ll give you plenty more when we’ve got chili bean breath.”