Harry Styles imagines + preferences

wh-why?

'Wh-why?' He asked, looking at your cut bruises.

Hands gently holding you in his arms as you let tears fall down his shirt. It's not the first time he's seen you like this. Hysterical is what you would call it but to him a cry for help. Suffering through aching pain. But it's never been this bad.

'be-because I'm fat and ugly. Look at me, I'm a fucking joke' you cry out.

He couldn't help but feel helpless in these situations, watching you tremble as tears fall uncontrollably.

'Hey y/n look at me' his voice is stern as he forces you to look up.

'You're not a joke. Seriously you're gorgeous, stunning... breathtaking and I'm so lucky your mine' he whispers.

A few tears fall from his face and you wipe them away. He knew you weren't convinced. Always putting on a fake smile just for him. His hands graze up your arm, brushing along every scar. Each one a moment of time when he held you close, devouring his love for you. He places soft kisses, apologising when his lips brush against the freshly shaped cuts, causing you to wince slightly.

'Please love. Don't do this. Don't hurt yourself. I need you...' his voice cracks for a moment.

'You're so beautiful in every way. Your curves... god they're perfect. Your thighs, I just love squeezing them when you're stressed or simply when you're craving my lips and your stomach... urgh I want you to have my babies' he compliments.

Every word true from his heart. He lifts you up, carrying you over and laying you down in the silk sheets. His eyes hurt. But he manages to save his tears.

'Those breasts are fucking luscious and I love tasting them in my mouth. The stretch marks... I could paint a picture' he mumbles, kissing up your thighs.

Your crying becomes small sobs and you reach your hand out to cup his face. Not exactly believing half of what he is saying but still thankful to have him your life. He takes his time unclasping your bra and pulling your panties of so your lying bare. He gently lifts you up in his arms, hand moving your head to the mirror so you can see yourself.

'All this...' he grazes his hand all over.

'Is fucking beautiful... say it baby. Say that it's beautiful. But I want you to mean it' he encourages.

Tears in your eyes, you take a look at yourself in the mirror and for a moment you genuinely smile, finally accepting your body the way it is. His hands softly touches your breasts, appreciating how perfect they fit in them. You let out a shaky breath, whispering to yourself what he had asked you earlier. He could tell this time you meant it.

'Fuck it I'm beautiful, sexy, hot and I couldn't care less what anybody else thinks' you breath out, letting all the emotions go.

He turns you around, pressing his lips softly on yours. Your tears falling, slowly fading along with the worries and doubts you've had about yourself. Now you truly saw everything beautifully. You couldn't even look away. He rests his head on your shoulder, nibbling at your collarbone.

'I'm so proud of you baby' he smiles through the kiss.

'I'm proud of me too' you smile too.

If Harry said he wanted me to have his babies as he compliments my body I'd die. Like just take me already. I'm all yours.