Harry Styles Blurbs (Reader Insert)

Endeavor (Fluff)

He's trying to move as quietly as possible, careful not to leave the bathroom door open more than a crack so the light doesn't shine on your face as he tiptoes back and forth between it and the room. It's early outside, the sky skill a dark, brooding shade of blue and the sun is still hibernating until it absolutely needs to be up.

He's currently standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, trying to tame his wildly growing hair in a decent way. Although he won't actually be on a television show today, he knows there's bound to be paparazzi around the studios he's going to. The tips Lou had given him have managed to fly out of his head. He sighs quietly, tapping his fingers along the counter and glancing at his reflection in the mirror. He takes a deep breath, puffing his cheeks out as he exhales. He's nervous, exuberantly so. But even more so, he's buzzing from his toes to the top of his head, the familiar feeling of anticipation and excitement bubbling in him. It's been a year since he's felt it, a year since he's done what he loves to do, and this time around, he's doing it exactly how he wants.

With one final glance towards the mirror, and a squirt of Tom Ford, he flips the switch gently and walks out into your room. His boots are clacking against the wood floors and he hisses, glancing up at you quickly as he comes to a stop. You're unperturbed, though, still sound asleep with your head tilting a bit too far off your pillow. The skin around his eyes crinkle and the corners of his mouth lift up in his first smile of the day. The scene before him is one he's seen many times, granted, usually he's next to you with a much closer view. Your hair is sticking to your cheek and you've got the fluffy blankets you insist on having every night pulled up around you, he assumes to make up for the lack of his warmth. One of them is slipping off the bed and laying halfway on the floor.

He doesn't want to wake you, not when you look so cozy and comfortable. But he knows if he doesn't, you'll be furious with him. He makes his way over to you, stooping down to pick up the blanket and lay it on top of you before he sits down on the edge of the mattress, leaning over you.

He raises his hand gently and pushes pieces of stray hair away from your face, before cascading his knuckles softly up and down your cheek. Your face scrunches up at the feeling but it's not enough to wake you up. Harry chuckles softly before leaning closer and pressing a hard kiss to your temple, lips puckered for a lingering moment as his eyes shut. He pulls away after a moment, only to hover his mouth over the shell of your ear. "Love, wake up fo' me..."

He nudges his nose into your cheek, bracing himself on one arm now that he's hovering completely above you, "Please darling, need some good luck from yeh."

You let out a garbled, whiny sound and he raises his head as you turn on your side a bit to blink up at him with bleary eyes.

"Harry? What's wrong?" you ask, arms coming out from under the covers so you can rub your eyes.

"S'nothing wrong, love. Didn't want t'leave without saying bye," he assures you, pressing a soothing kiss to your forehead.

His words bring you out of your reverie and you gasp, turning completely onto your back so you can sit up. He adjusts, leaning on both arms over you.

"Let me- I'll put my glasses on, 10 minutes. I promise," you whisper, moving to shove the covers off your body.

"Angel, no no no. We talked about this dinnit we?" he murmurs, encompassing you in your spot.

You pout at him, brows furrowed together in a frown, "But Harry-"

He shakes his head, reaching up to run his thumb over your brows and smooth them from their tension filled state, "S'early, m'love. Had a long week, didn't yeh? Plus they won't let yeh sit with me in the booth. S'no point."

"I don't mind, Harry!" you argue, shaking your head stubbornly at him.

"I mind," he says sternly. If he's going to celebrate with you, he wants to do it properly, not with meek smiles behind a glass and pestering questions from the interviewers about the girl that's accompanied him.

"Are you sure?" you ask, reaching up to cup his cheeks in your hands. Your eyes are still heavy with sleep but they're peering at him with intensity.

"Mhm, just wanted to get a good luck kiss from yeh. We can celebrate proper tonight, hm?" he whispers, before turning to press a kiss to the inside of one of your palms.

You're quiet for a moment before you squirm and he pulls away, letting you sit up next to him. The covers fall off and you shiver but he's quick to pull you into his lap, arms warm and strong around you.

"M'so proud of you, you know that?" you inquire softly, taking his face in your hands again and resting your forehead against his.

He rubs your back with his arm, the fabric of his shirt on you rising and falling with his movements as a dimpled smile pops onto his face, "Are yeh?"

"So proud. Harry.. You're going to do so wonderful," you assure him, pressing a kiss between his brows.

He sighs, tugging you closer and settling his face in your hair as you lean against his chest. "M'scared," he admits in a sheepish tone.

You stay still against him, thinking about how to string your words with your sleepy head, with Harry's heartbeat pounding steadily in your ear. "S'okay to be scared, love. But you've worked so, so hard. It's a wonderful song. They're going to love it, not just because it's good, but because it's coming from you. You're golden, Harry... it's all going to work out, love."

He's quiet as your words vibrate in the morning air around you two and you clear your throat to add something, "You did it Harry. You did it."

He hums before nuzzling his face deeper into your hair, lips puckering against your skull. You tilt your head up and press fluttering kisses to his jaw, and he chuckles at the tickling feeling before tilting his face down, "C'mere. Give me a proper kiss."

His fingers curl under your chin and you happily oblige, pressing your lips softly against his. He's ravenous, lips messy against your and fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he tugs you tightly to him. Your hands wander up to his hair, staying at the nape of his neck and pulling at the hair there, rather than following your normal pursuit of running through his fluffy locks.

He sighs deeply against your lips, pulling away reluctantly after a moment. You pant when he releases you, pressing his lips against your forehead. "Love yeh, yeh know tha' right? All this.. Couldn't have done it without yeh by my side."

Your heart warms at his words, "I love you, silly boy. Now go on, the world is waiting."

He smoothes his hand over your messy hair and presses one more kiss to your forehead before helping you slide off his lap. He gets you readjusted under the covers, and grabs his phone.

He heads towards the door, opening it but hesitating before stepping out completely. He casts a glance back in your direction, and you give him a bright smile and a nod- and he's off.