Harry Styles Imagines and Preferences Book 3

A Little Treatment

Request- Hi lovie. I have a request but don't feel obligated! I recently had to start doing testing for endometriosis which has been pretty shitty, but some Harry fluff along those lines would really help more than people would think. Love you always sweet girl, keep up the good work ❤️

I never feel obligated sweetie! Anything for you guys! I hope you enjoy! And I hope everything clears up for you soon sweetheart! 🥰

"I'm sick", you'd say, causing Harry to roll his eyes and shake his head profoundly.

"You're not sick, pet. Stop saying that. You're just fine. Yeh perfect as always", he promises with soft peppering kisses along your jawline, cascading down to your neck, along your sweet spot then back up until his lips met yours.

"Stop", you shrug away. "I'm sick", you repeat.

"Y/N-"

"It's probably contagious. I don't want you getting any pelvic pain too", you scoff.

"Enough, pet", Harry strictly mutters.

You knew the sickness well enough to know it was quite rare for a boy to suffer from endometriosis. You also knew it well enough to know it wasn't contagious, but you'd do anything to try and lighten the mood. Even if it meant in your right mind to annoy Harry with such phrases like 'I'm sick'. Usually Harry would join you in the teasing, agreeing that you are sick, but you being sick in any way shape or form always left a tug on Harry's heart and a pitiful lump in his throat that caused pain in his unsettled stomach, knowing half his heart was in much more pain.

He plops down onto the couch next to you, large hands raising your legs to place them gently onto his lap, before handing you the remote. You take it with a smile, thumb immediately trailing to the channel button before changing the channel a few times. Your thoughts begin to reminisce about how thoughtful and protective Harry has been lately. More than usual. After going with you to one of your monthly checkups, which he insisted on because he could tell something was wrong, he started to read up more on endometriosis once your doctor told you you've been diagnosed with it. He was obsessed with learning more about it. Internet history absolutely clouded with websites about the disorder.

It was as if he was doing research for an English paper that was due the following day.

Paranoia striking him when you walked into the room to see him closing his laptop screen hastily so you wouldn't see the large letters spelling endometriosis on the device. Almost as if he was a teenage boy looking for other research before his mom walks into his room.

But you knew it was all out of love. So you couldn't possibly be mad at him when he had a section of the medicine cabinet practically labeled 'For Y/N's Period', so that he knew not to take any of your painkillers no matter how much his head was pounding from a long day at work because he knew your periods consisted of pain that was unbearable.

Or when he flooded his own laundry basket with an immense amount of stress balls to calm you when you felt your stomach tightening in a suffocating pain.

Or even when he denied your request of making love together no matter how horny you were or how much he wanted to please you because he knew even if the sex was good for him, the pain would be unusual and intolerable for you. Which was the last thing he wanted, especially when the two of you were making love.

He's trying to be strong for you, but you could see right through him. He's worried. Scared even. And feeling annoyed with him was the last thing that crossed your mind. Instead, you felt nothing but loved knowing he cared so deeply about you.

"You okay there, love? You've changed about a hundred channels now", Harry teases suddenly, hand caressing up and down your thigh.

"Oh, yeah, I'm sorry-"

"Don't be."

"I just...", you search for the right words. "Harry, I can't thank you enough for everything you've been doing. Even before we learned that I have endometriosis. You've always been there for me and so caring and loving and I just love you so much."

"Poppet", he beams, moving strands of your hair away from your face. "You know I'll always be here for you. I don't even think you can keep me away from yeh", he chuckles. "I'm sprung on yeh."

"Oh I know", you giggle. "These little treatments you've been doing are kind of getting out of hand, but I know it's all love."

"Always, baby. And hey", he grins, leaning in to peck your nose. "A little treatment can go a long way."

I feel like that sucked so my first apology is for that! My second apology is that I am so deeply sorry for anyone who is or has been dealing with this or any sickness of some sort! You are forever in my thoughts and prayers. Stay strong, I love you. ❤️