Harry Styles Oneshots // english

Dancing With A Stranger

The person who was curling his hands around het hips was unfamiliar. She wanted him to be. It was what she needed. Everything about this man was supposed to be a novelty for her and to her luck it was. His smell, which was pleasant, was foreign. When he breathed seductive words against the shell of her ear, y/n couldn't recognize his voice as one she already knew. Exactly what she had hoped for. She needed the help of a stranger to make it through.

His palms were moist. So unlike the ones she was used to feeling against her skin. It didn't make her feel better, but less lonely and that would be enough for her to settle with tonight.
Y/n preferred keeping him pressed against her back and avoided turning around to face him. Of course he wouldn't recognize her features, just like she wouldn't find any familiarity in his, but perhaps he would see something else. Someone. Y/n was certain that if he caught her eyes, he would see the man she needed him to distract her from. And wouldn't that keep him from doing that job? Harry was always there somehow. He was presence in her orbs and had been sinve she'd let herself fall in love.
Ik was like he had become part of her body. Y/n's heart ached. The thought used to bring her comfort, a sense of belonging. Now it gave her more pain than she thought her soul was capable bearing.
Y/n  let her head fall onto the man's shoulder and released a sigh that had weighted on her chest, though he interpreted it as one of pleasure. The material of his shirt was rough against her neck. Something else that was new. The stranger seemed to enjoy their current position ans tightened his hold to move her with him. It surprised her how letting him was easy. His nose could brush against her cheek as y/n allowed him to do what he wanted. Her mind was far away and she needed him to bring it back.

If only Harry knew.
She tried to never think of him for too long agter nog thinking of him at all had proven to be impossible. What she hadn't expected was that with the presence of the unknown man this got more difficult instead of easy. Y/n briefly tensed. Why was this not simple? Why did his fingers leave her skin vcold rather than burning? Why did she, after all je had done, long for him to come and save her?
She denied the stranger the kiss he searched for. Regardless, he kept rubbing his nose against her cheek. He brushed his lips close to hers again. It was a way of asking her to give in and she wanted to, but decided against it, Instead she turned away and continued to dance, the stranger following right behind. He wouldn't let himself be discouraged so easily. Y/n found herself relieved by that.

What would Harry say if he saw what he made her do?

Y/n wanted to let him go. She was ready, but she needed a little help. Maybe even from the stranger who had wrapped her body into his. His head nudged hers and she could hear him taking in a breath. A shudder travelled over her skin, one she struggled to interpret. He was memorizing her, she realized, adding her scent to his collection of pretty girls he'd danced with. Soon he would want to know the taste of her lips more despreately. Y/n relaxed into his chest. Surely he was hoping to get more than just a dance.

Te last person she had been with had let her hown in ways so hurtful she tried to refuse the memory an entrance back into her mind. Seeing him laying on their bed, naked body partly covered by their sheet and a girl he had dragged along, had been painful. To have that image coming back to her now was taunting. It made her sing further into the stranger's arms.
Harry could never sleep well. He valled himself the kind of person who was eager to start the day as soon as the sun made its appearance, but in truth, he just couldn't find any rest. Y/n didn't understand what it was that kept his mind awake and unable to give in to his body's exhaustion. Regardless, she had given her best to be his support. If Harry wouldn't sleep, then neither would she. He'd always said that he appreciated her devotion.

Those strangely wet palms rubbed her naked stomach. When he uncovered her skin? Did she feel the same to him as she had to the person she'd believed to be hers? Why did broken bodies hurt so bad? Could the stranger holding her tell that if wsn't for his arms, she would be crumbling into pieces?

When y/n opened the door to their bedroom, thinking that she would settle down for a few hours before Harry came home from work, she had found the bed already occupied. Two naked bodies lay there, intertwined and calm.
Harry had let his cheek rest against het forehead. The woman, one y/n didn't know, had secured both arms around his missle as if he was hers to hold on to. Y/n remembered how there seemingly hadn't been any contrast between the two. Nothing keeping them apart.
Harry being with another woman, hurt. Knowing ha had touched a strander on top of their bed, But the worst thing he'd done was falling asleep. She had made him sleep. Y/n never had.

A particularly harsh pull to teeth on her earlobe brought her back to where she was. Y/n tightened the hold she had around the stranger's neck and rested her cheek against his. The skin was smoother than Harry's. Colder, too. But this was better than being alone. When he touched her waist and turned her around she let him. She knew it wasn't her eyes that he was after.
His mouth that smelled of alcohol and cigaretteds settled over hers and she allowed it. Y/n tasted his unfamiliar lips, only briefly distracted when his fingers pushed more of her shirt of their way. Her own hands missed the familiar curls they longed for when all they dound at the back of his head was a short and greasy stubbly. The expertise he kissed her with almost made up for it and y/n wanted to cry. She just kept having that one thought.

If only Harry could see what he was making her do.