Harry Styles Blurbs (Reader Insert)

Vena Amoris (Fluff)

"They're heavy," you observe, wiggling one of the rings. "Don't they hurt your fingers?"

Harry chuckles under his breath, his dimples appear from how deep his smile is. His eyes are shining, even in the shitty lighting of the hotel room in Tokyo. He's got both his arms around you, your back resting against his chest. "No, love. They don't hurt m'fingers," he echoes, teasingly.

The bed is comfy, covers strewn around from the nap you two had just woken up from. The tv is playing, though neither of you are paying attention to it. The curtains are parted just enough to glimpse the twinkling building lights outside.

You tilt your head back against his bare skin so you're able to peer up at him from under your furrowed brows. "Don't be mean," you grumble.

Harry pouts at you, wrapping his arms tightly around your middle as he stoops down to press a kiss between your brows. "M'sorry, love, you just make it so easy." He kisses your forehead, fluttering his lips into your hairline when you hum contently.

He keeps his lips pressed softly against your temple as you lean all of your weight back into him, eyes closed.

"Do yeh like them?"

He waits for you to open your eyes, but instead you nod once and your fingers sneak out from under his touch, trailing down the tattooed skin of his arm. When they reach the rings, you lift his hand a little so you can intertwine your hands.

It's quiet for a moment; the two of you simply enjoying each other's company in warmth of the hotel bed. Harry trails his eyes over your features, your lashes, the length of your nose, and those pretty lips of yours that he loves to kiss. He loves you, he thinks. He loves you so much that he'd travel across the world just for a moment of your time. He'd give everything up in a heartbeat if you asked, but you know he wouldn't be Harry without his music, and you love all of him — every part of his life; of him.

He kisses your cheek overwhelmed by the immensity of his heart growing in his chest. After a moment — you hear him, "Sit up fo' me, sweetheart."

Despite the whine of protest, you do as he asks, opening your eyes as he tucks his chin over your shoulder once you're no longer slouching. He untangles your fingers and you watch curiously as he takes the 'S' ring off and lifts your hand.

You turn your face sideways, just enough to see how close he is, and you can't help but brush your nose against his skin. When he smiles, resisting a giggle, you lift your chin enough to press a kiss to the spot.

He slips the ring onto your ring finger without you even realizing it. He told you a lie, though. It's heavy, enough so that it makes you look down.

Your heart stops for a beat, noticing what he's done while you were busy loving on him.

"Harry..."

It's his turn to kiss your cheek. "Yes, m'love?"

"What are you... what are you doing?"

"Practicing," he responds, in a matter of fact tone.

"For what, exactly?" You ask, eyes still glued to the 'S' on your ring finger.

Harry scoffs, as if the answer is plain and obvious, "For when you're a Styles. S'going to be a much prettier ring though," he says. The ring is too big for you. He gently curls a finger around it and moves it up and down your finger.

Your voice is hoarse when you speak up, clouded with emotion, "A Styles, huh?"

"Would yeh like that?" He asks, a curious glint in his eyes.

You finally tear your eyes away to meet his, your response once again a single nod of your head because now you're truly at a loss for words. When he spots tears pooling in your eyes, he melts.

"Come here," he says, pulling away so you can scramble and turn around. You prop yourself on your knees and wrap your arms around his neck as his go around your waist.

When you finally lift your face from his hair, he tilts his head back at you with a big, beaming smile. His hands rub circles into your hips as you press a kiss to his forehead.

"Mrs. Styles... has a lovely of a ring to it, don't yeh think?"