Harry Styles imagines + preferences

what he does when you're on your period.

always leaves a note within the sanitary box that sits at the corner of the bathroom. to my cute bean. love you lots.

it has most different brands. always is number one.. or tampax.

you would shower first, wash away the icky bits. then change into sweats and fuzzy socks. that's when he knows it's that time of the month.

he would nuzzle his face in the crevice of your neck. mumble 'does it hurt.. baby'. it's a soft yes along with quiet sobs. 'hey.. hey, s'no need to cry.. angel'.

he would press soft kisses to your temple. then carry you downstairs where he sits you on the sofa. 'here's some painkillers and a hot water bottle'.

he would surround you with pillows. cocoon you into the blanket. switch the tv on. 'want cuddles.. precious?'. you flail your arms out like a baby, burying your face in the crevice of his neck.

a wave of pain, you feel it, squeezing his hand. 'it hurts.. H'. he massages your belly, whispering soft words. the pain is gone. then minutes later back again.

he continues to massage your belly, pressing a light kiss to your temple. 'my poor baby'. that sets off more tears. 'shh— shh, it's okay angel'.

you squeeze his hand again, gasping for breaths. it's like that for 20 minutes until the medicine has kicked in. then you're munching down snacks, watching movies.

your head resting on his chest, sprawled on top of him. 'better baby?'. you simply hum, burying your face further into his chest.

dinner would be take out. any of your choice and tonight it's burgers and fries. then when you're eyes are drifting into a peaceful slumber, he carries you upstairs. 'night angel'.