Harry Styles Blurbs (Reader Insert)

Seal of Approval (Best Friend Harry!)

You're flinging the door open before the first ding of the bell has even had a chance to finish resonating, scrambling from the kitchen and down the hall while trying not to slip with the sock and hardwood floor combination in your haste.

He's beaming at you when the silly wooden barrier is out of the way, leaning against the doorway with wide green eyes that are seemingly brighter than they were through your phone screen. The skin by them crinkles as a familiar smile slides onto his face once you're revealed to him. He's dressed in his usual attire, billowing shirt with buttons that probably should be buttoned (considering the occasion), paired with a pair of jeans that is suffocatingly tight to his chicken legs- as you had called them time and time again.

You sigh deeply, titling your head to the side and giving him a smile of your own. It's been so long- so, so long and you allow yourself to take him in. Pointed boots and designer threads will never change the boy who is standing in front of you. The same boy whose dimples are just as accented as they've always been. The boy who is not only your oldest friend, but your very best.

"Yeh gonna make m'stand out here all day, pet?" He asks, quirking a mischievous eyebrow at you.

"Just wanted to take a good look at you. Come here," you breathe out, taking a step out your flat before you throw yourself at him.

He lets out a chuckle, catching you with ease and a small grunt as you wrap your arms tightly around his neck. His arms are strong around you, anchoring you to him as you bury your face into his neck. His long hair is tickling your forehead, but you don't care as you inhale deeply. He smells of Tom Ford, not as strong as usual- but mostly, he smells like home.

"You're home," you gasp out in astonishment before repeating it firmly with a squeeze to his neck, "You're finally home, Harry."

"S'right. S'good t'be back with yeh, love." He rumbles back to you, turning his face to press a kiss to your head while he rubs your back with a smile as bright and fond, if not more so, as the one you're burying into the fabric of his shirt.

"How come yeh never made me dinner?" He squawks indignantly at you from across the counter.

You frown down at the pan that's sizzling in front of you, pushing around the peppers in it with your spatula before looking up at him with furrowed brows.

He's sipping on the wine he had brought with him, a bottle aged to your preference. He's leaning back in one of the bar stools you have behind your island as he watches you rush around the kitchen.

"S'not like you asked me to," you shoot back with a momentary smirk.

"Didn't kno' your culinary skills went past ordering takeout and cereal, love," he presses on, raising his glass in cheers to you before lifting it to his pink lips.

You roll your eyes at him before turning the gas off and lifting the pan towards the plates you had set up along the counter, serving some of the peppers onto each of them. "You're a twat."

"Oi! S'not nice, is it? Been gone fo' so long an' this is how yeh treat me? S'lovely, really, considering it's the first time you've seen me in ages.." he trails off, pouting at you with offense.

You set the empty pan into the sink and let the water run over it, watching the steam sizzle from it's contact with the warm surface before you gaze up at him.

"I saw you last week, you dork," you point out, recalling the FaceTime session as you lean forward on your elbows and stare into his eyes.

"Wasn't the same thing and yeh kno' it." He grumbles, pushing your own nearly full glass of wine towards you.