thereceptioniststyles - Tumblr blog

thereceptioniststyles · 29 days

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Chocolate Hearts

CW: Smut

Word count: 4,541

Growing up in a small town was never easy. The days appeared to drag on with gloomy skies and bleak summers filling the calendar. Rain and storms consumed the days, leaving Stella feeling trapped inside her own home, binge-watching Netflix to pass the time. Despite these dreary conditions and the small town gossip that cause her to suffocate, Stella found solace in two things: reading novels at the quaint local bookstore and pursuing her passion for photography.

Behind the lens, Stella was a master. She had an eye for capturing beauty in the simplest of subjects. Her clients ranged from families to businesses, and sometimes beloved pets. While most of her projects were fairly small, she had managed to gain a decent following on social media thanks to the artistic and creative nature of her photos.

Then, through pure luck, an opportunity presented itself about an hour away - the chance to photograph Harry Styles at an arena for her portfolio. It would be a stark contrast to her usual work - the bright lights and frantic movements on stage would provide a new challenge for her skills behind the lens. When her sister's boyfriend, who worked security at the venue, offered her this rare opportunity, Stella couldn't turn it down. It was a chance to showcase her talent on a larger scale and potentially open doors for her career as a photographer.

She meticulously packed her gear, carefully selecting the best lenses and camera body for the upcoming task. Her vintage-style paperboy camera bag was neatly filled with all the necessary equipment, ensuring that she would be fully prepared for whatever lay ahead. Taking a moment to center herself, she sat down and focused on her breathing, a technique her therapist had taught her for moments when she needed to relax and gather her thoughts.

With a deep breath, she swiped the keys off of the counter and bid farewell to her cat before heading out to her car. While she wouldn't necessarily classify herself as a fan of Harry Styles, she found him charming and had enjoyed his performances in the few movies he had been in. There was something about his energy that drew her in. She couldn't deny that she had a One Direction phase in high school, so there was a small part of Stella that felt giddy at the thought of seeing him in person. She always thought her was attracitve and even had a little crush on him.

The drive to the arena was smooth, but finding parking proved to be a nightmare. Eventually, she made it inside and checked in, grabbing her pass before being escorted to where she would be shooting. In her mind, she imagined that she would have a decent view of the stage, but when the security guard handed her off to Harry's manager who then led her down winding hallways backstage, it became clear that she would not just be photographing the show - she would have access to something much more intimate and behind-the-scenes.

The manager wheeled around to face Stella, his slicked-back hair catching the light as he spoke. "I hope you're okay with this," he said, over the hustle and bustle of the backstage preparations for Harry Styles' show. "Originally we needed someone for the show, but our usual photographer is out sick and we need some content for Instagram."

Stella nodded, trying to suppress her nerves. She had been ecstatic when she was offered the opportunity to shoot photos of one of the worlds biggest musicians, but now that it was actually happening, she was feeling a bit overwhelmed. Her palms were getting clammy as she mentally went through her checklist, making sure she had everything ready to go.

"I'm good," she replied, flashing a quick smile at Harry's manager. "I'm all set up and ready whenever you guys are."

But what Stella wasn't prepared for was walking into Harry's dressing room and seeing him shirtless, with his stylist carefully crafting his iconic hairstyle. She couldn't help but feel a flutter in her chest as she took in his toned tattooed torso and muscular arms. This wasn't how she imagined meeting her high school celebrity crush.

Harry turned around from the chair and greeted her with a warm smile. "You must be Stella," he said as he walked towards her with open arms.

Stella couldn't believe she was actually hugging Harry Styles. She took in his scent, the strong muscles of his back pressing against her as they embraced, and she couldn't help but feel herself falling deeply in love with him. It was like a bug had bitten her and infected her with an infatuation for the charming and talented musician.

"I am," Stella finally managed to say, trying not to let on how starstruck she was. "Thank you so much for allowing me to come today. I've never really done anything like this before, it feels like such a big opportunity."

Harry chuckled and then ran a hand through his hair, causing it to fall in soft waves around his face. "No worries, love," he replied with a playful wink. "We're happy to have you here. And I was thinking we could mix things up a bit for the photoshoot. Let's do some portraits but also some candid shots of me getting ready, organizing my clothes, that sort of thing."

Stella's eyes sparkled with excitement at the idea. She couldn't believe she was going to be taking intimate behind-the-scenes shots of Harry Styles. This was definitely going to be the highlight of her photography career so far.

As Stella clicked away with her camera, capturing every moment of Harry getting ready, she couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of confidence around him. It was as if his vibrant energy was contagious and had spread throughout her body, lifting her spirits in its wake. She found herself contorting into unusual positions to get the perfect shot, lost in the thrill of documenting this experience.

"So Stella, we have a whole week off and I want to explore. I never get out to this area of the US. What's there to do around here?" Harry's deep, smooth voice sent shivers down her spine.

Stella paused for a moment, caught off guard by this unexpected conversation. "I um," she stuttered, "I actually live in a small town about an hour north of here. I'm not too familiar with the area."

Harry nodded, his curiosity piqued. "Is it cool?" he asked, his tone laced with genuine interest.

Stella shrugged, "It's alright. There are some nice bakeries and vegan restaurants. I have my studio there. It's a bit hipster but quiet and charming. Oh, and there's a really cool vinyl store. And hey, if you need a place to crash, I have a guest room." She added the last part jokingly, assuming that a famous superstar like Harry Styles would be staying in a luxurious penthouse suite.

"Let's do it," Harry declared with enthusiasm, catching Stella off guard once again.

"Really?" she gasped in disbelief.

Harry simply nodded and explained, "I've been wanting to escape to a smaller town where I can blend in and do normal things without being recognized. Sounds perfect."

Stella couldn't believe her luck as the show went on and eventually came to an end. The plan was for her to go home and wait for Harry while he finished up his final performance and got cleaned up before heading over to her place. She inwardly thanked herself for deep cleaning her house the day before, she was prepared to have everything to be perfect for Harry's stay.

"I-I didn't think you'd actually want to come," Stella admitted as they said their goodbyes.

Harry chuckled and replied, "Isn't it a bit crazy?"

And with that, their unconventional journey began.

Stella sat at home, anxiously awaiting Harry's arrival. She had cleaned her small apartment, lit a few candles, and put on a record to set the mood. With a quick glance at the clock, she grabbed a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass to calm her nerves.

As she took a sip, her doorbell rang, causing her cat to scurry off in alarm. Stella placed her glass down and smoothed out her outfit before opening the door. The crisp fall air rushed in, bringing with it the tantalizing scent of Harry's cologne - a masculine blend of woodsy and spicy notes that never failed to drive her wild.

"Welcome to my humble abode," she greeted him with a shrug, trying to play it cool. He hugged her tightly before setting his bag down and taking off his shoes.

"It's lovely," he remarked as he looked around her eclectic apartment filled with vintage knick-knacks and furniture straight out of the 70s. Stella blushed with pride - she may not be much of a decorator, but this was her personal style and Harry seemed to appreciate it.

"I don't think there are many places open for dinner right now, but we can order takeout if you'd like. I know it's late," Stella suggested.

"Oh, that would be great. I'm actually quite hungry," Harry admitted with a sheepish grin.

Stella returned his smile and poured him a glass of wine.

"For you," she said softly as she handed it over.

Together, they sat on her cozy couch, looking through takeout menus. Their options were limited, so they settled on a 24-hour Korean BBQ place that offered delivery services.

"You know," Stella began as they waited for their food to arrive, "I was somewhat surprised when you agreed to come over tonight. You don't even know me."

Harry simply shrugged in response.

"You seemed nice and warm. Sometimes, you have to take a chance in order to truly live," he said with a hint of wisdom in his tone. "I'm constantly surrounded by strangers in my line of work, always staying in hotels. I thought, why not spend some time with a stranger who offers a sense of home? That sounded nice right about now."

Stella placed a comforting hand on his knee and rubbed lightly with her thumb.

"Well, if I can provide that sense of home, even for a little while, then I will." As they sat on the couch, making small talk and waiting for their food, Stella couldn't help but feel grateful for this unexpected connection she had made with Harry.

Stella and Harry’s conversation was soon interrupted by food arriving. The two sat in silence and then cleaned up in silence. The energy of the room could only be described as tired. Stella took Harry down the hall and showed him the bathroom and then took him to the room he would be staying in.

They hugged goodnight and said their goodbyes before Stella finished turning off the lights and heading to bed herself. She wondered how she would sleep. She felt guilty for trying to fall asleep. A part of her felt like she had to stay on duty and protect the treasure that was in the room over. When in reality, if someone broke in she would be the first to go.

The next morning dawned, and as her drowsy eyes gradually cleared, Stella almost forgot that Harry was in the room next to hers. A warm, sweet scent wafted through the air, reminding her of home. Slowly, she got out of bed and walked over to her vanity, taking a moment to fix her disheveled appearance before stepping into the living room.

There stood Harry in the kitchen, his back turned to her as he focused on cooking. He must have heard her footsteps because he turned around with a smile.

"Got up early. Went on a run, found a store and decided to cook for ya," he said over his shoulder, his voice filled with warmth and affection. Stella's heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.

"Oh Harry! You could've woken me up," she exclaimed, feeling guilty for not helping him with breakfast.

But he just shook his head, his light curls bouncing slightly with the movement.

"It was nice. To go out and not be known," he shared with her.

Stella looked at him with loving eyes, marveling at how this famous celebrity could find solace in anonymity.

"I can only imagine. I don't know how you do it all the time. No privacy. Going on a date and having the world see it even if it sucked. I can't imagine, and I’ve been on some pretty bad dates.” she confessed to Harry, unable to hide her admiration.

He laughed lightly, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Well. Why don't I take you out on not a bad date?" he suggested casually, but Stella's heart nearly stopped in her chest at his words. She couldn't believe it - was Harry asking her out on a date?

"If you're sure," she managed to say, trying to keep her cool.

He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close and giving her a warm hug.

"It wasn't just luck, Stella. I found your Instagram a while ago. The small town pics, the cat, the photography. I know your sister's boyfriend and I knew I had to meet you. I was practically drawn to you," he confessed, sending shivers down Stella's spine.

She couldn't believe it - this famous, talented, and incredibly attractive man had an interest in her. With a newfound sense of confidence and excitement, Stella accepted his invitation for a date, eager to see where this unexpected connection would lead them.

Despite being unfamiliar with the town, Harry managed to find a quaint restaurant and drove Stella there in his rental car. For once, he felt a sense of normalcy - the feeling of dating someone without the baggage of fame and paparazzi constantly hounding them. The drive was short, but it gave him time to take in the picturesque scenery of the small town.

As they arrived at the restaurant, Stella's face lit up with recognition. She had been here many times before, and it was clear that she loved this place. The staff greeted her by name as they walked in, and Harry couldn't help but tease her about being the "famous" one.

"It's just a small town," she laughed, "everyone knows everyone."

Over dinner, Harry couldn't shake off the feeling that he already knew Stella, or perhaps had known her in another lifetime. He found himself wanting to do simple things like eating Korean barbecue in bed or buying silly chocolate hearts from CVS - anything to make her smile.

Stella too, felt an instant connection with Harry. Just yesterday she didn't remember his name, now she would drop everything and run away with him if he asked. She wanted him in every way possible.

Their meal ended too quickly, but the silence between them was comfortable and filled with unspoken feelings. After dinner, Harry suggested going out and doing something adventurous, but Stella simply wanted to be home - home with him and a bottle of wine. Much to his surprise, Harry was completely content with that plan.

He drove her back to her house like he had lived in that town his whole life. As they entered her place, Stella kicked off her shoes and made a beeline for the kitchen where she grabbed a bottle of wine. She poured two glasses and handed one to Harry as she fumbled with setting up the record player.

Taking a few sips of wine to calm her nerves, Stella couldn't find the right record to play and let out a frustrated sigh then finished her glass by chugging it. In that moment, Harry realized that he would do anything to make her happy, even if it meant spending the night listening to terrible music.

Stella felt him behind her as he placed a hand on the back of her shoulders. Stella felt the heat of his body, an angelic presence stirring her senses from behind. His touch was electric on the back of her shoulders, sending shivers down her spine. She turned around to face him, their faces just inches apart. The scent of his cologne filled her nostrils - masculine and intoxicating.

Wordlessly, she poured and handed him another glass of wine. Their fingers brushed against each other in the transfer, sparking a flame that coursed through their linked bodies.

"Your choice," she said with a teasing smile, gesturing to the records spread out on the table. He picked up one at random – some old jazz record she'd forgotten about. Harry placed it on the turntable and the sultry sway of a saxophone began to fill the room.

He moved closer to her then, invading her personal space as if he had every right to do so. Harrys hands found their way to her waist, pulling her flush against him. Stella gasped at the feel of his firm body pressing into hers.

“Is this okay?” he murmured into her ear. His breath tickled her skin and made her giggle.

“More than okay,” Stella replied. Her voice was husky, inviting.

His lips trailed kisses from her earlobe down towards her neck, stoking the fire that was quickly building between them. She clutched onto his hair for dear life as pleasure washed over her in waves.

As Harry's hands slipped under Stella's blouse, he gently brushed his fingertips along the small of her back before pressing softly against her bare skin. His touch was electric, sending shivers down her spine as she leaned into him, her heart pounding in anticipation. His other hand slid around to her waist before moving slowly downwards, tracing the lines of her hip and finally reaching the edge of her silk panties. Stella gasped, feeling a rush of heat spreading through her core at his touch.

"Harry," she whispered, unable to form complete thoughts as he began to explore between her legs, teasing and stroking with expert fingers. She leaned into him, letting out soft moans that were quickly drowned out by the music playing in the background. His warm breath caressed her neck, sending shivers down her spine as he nibbled lightly on the soft skin there.

In response, Stella reached up to run her fingers through his hair, loving the feel of it between her fingertips as he continued to tease her. The way he touched her was unlike anything she'd ever experienced before - it was like he knew exactly what she needed, right from the start. With each gentle caress and sigh, she felt herself growing hotter and wetter under his touch.

His fingers found their way inside and she couldn't contain a moan as he teased into places that made every nerve ending light up like fireworks going off in slow motion. He moved with an almost practiced ease that left her panting for more; it was clear that Harry knew exactly what he was doing and it felt so good - better than anything she could have ever imagined. She couldn't help but wrap one leg around him in anticipation.

The music flowed around them, the silky jazz notes wrapping them up in a sensual embrace as Harry's fingers danced with hers, his hands exploring every curve and contour of her body.His touch was firm yet gentle, eliciting soft moans from Stella.

As his mouth neared hers, she parted her lips, eager for his kiss. Their lips met in a tender yet passionate embrace that left them both breathless. He tasted like wine and desire, his tongue dancing with hers playfully before delving deeper into her mouth. They broke apart for air, panting heavily as Harry trailed kisses down her neck and collarbone while continuing to stroke her inner thighs.

Stella continued to run her fingers through his hair, tangling herself up in those curls that smelled of sandalwood and sex appeal. The scent alone made her dizzy with lust; she needed more of him than just this small taste. The warmth from his body seeped into hers as they swayed together to the music—a slow song that matched their slow dance of seduction. She could feel his hardness pressing against her leg; it wasn't long before she grew wetter than ever from anticipation of what was to come next.

Harry leaned back slightly to look at Stella who looked back at him longingly. Her eyes were filled with desire, her pupils dilated from the alcohol and passion. He took a step back to remove his shirt, revealing toned abs and muscles that rippled under his tattooed skin. His hair fell onto his forehead in soft waves, framing his face as he reached for the button of his jeans. With a low growl of need, he undid the button and slid down the zipper before pushing the denim down to rest on his hips.

Stella watched hungrily as Harry stepped out of his pants and kicked them off to the side, revealing a large erection that strained against his boxers. She licked her lips involuntarily at the sight of him, feeling her own arousal growing stronger by the second.

The jazz music continued softly in the background, creating an intimate ambiance between them as they moved closer together once more. Their bodies swaying slowly as if in tune with the melody. Harry pressed himself against Stella's Core invitingly; she could feel how hard he was through their thin fabric separating them.

His tongue traced her earlobe gently before nibbling playfully at it causing shivers to run up her spine. He whispered huskily into her ear, "I want you.” His accent driving her crazy.

She moaned softly in response as he trailed kisses down her neck and collarbone, his warm breath sending shockwaves through her body. His hands roamed over her curves possessively.

"Harry," she breathed out wanting more than just teasing now; needing completion beneath this hands.

The sight of his arousal straining against his boxers made her lick her lips in anticipation. He was thick and hard, and she could see a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip. "Oh god," Stella moaned quietly under her breath.

Harry swiftly discarded his boxers, revealing his length fully to her gaze. Her eyes widened slightly at his size, but there was no fear in her eyes – only an eager curiosity as she reached out to touch him. Her small hand wrapped around him firmly, making him groan in pleasure.

With one swift move he pushed her onto the carpeted floor, pulled off her panties, and spread her thighs wide apart. She looked up at him from beneath heavy lashes, anticipation brewing like a storm within those sultry depths. His fingers found their way to her slick heat, nudging open sensitive folds to gain access to the secrets hidden within.

His finger dipped within the wetness, coating himself in it before retreating to rub circles around the swollen bud nestled above. A bolt of pleasure shot through Stella's body and she writhed beneath him; gasps spilling freely from her parted lips. "Fuck...Harry..."

He continued to tease gently at first, before picking up speed - each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body as he taunted that sweet spot relentlessly. His other hand kneaded and tweaked her breasts, heightening the pleasure. Stella's back arched off the floor as he brought her closer and closer to that edge.

"Harry... I..." she stammered out breathlessly. Her hands grasped at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as an orgasm ripped through her body.

Her screams of pleasure echoed in the dimly lit room as Harry continued to stroke her through her orgasm, drawing out the waves of pleasure until she was left panting and spent beneath him.

Slowly, he nudged her legs further apart with his knee before guiding his hardness to her entrance. She whimpered slightly at the feel of him pressing against her but nonetheless lifted her hips to meet him halfway.

He filled her slowly; each inch driving a gasp from both of them until he was fully embedded within her. Their bodies were connected now - not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually too. Their movements soon found a rhythm; slow and deep thrusts that had her wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him deeper.

His pace gradually increased as they both chased their release; Stella's nails leaving trails down his back as she clung onto him. It wasn't long before she felt another rise in pleasure peaking; this one even more intense than the last. "Harry...I'm going to..."

With one final deep thrust, she screamed his name as pleasure fell over her once again; Harry following suit shortly after with a groan of his own. He collapsed on top of her panting heavily; their sweaty bodies entwined in bliss.

Their shared connection was undeniable. Passionate yet tender, their lovemaking was something far beyond mere physical satisfaction. And so their story began, Harry fell in love with the small town over the week and vowed to visit in when his time was free.

As the week in the small town came to an end, Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness. He had never expected to find such a powerful connection with someone in such an unexpected place. But as he looked at her sleeping form next to him, he knew that this was just the beginning of something special.

He gently brushed her hair out of her face and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. She stirred slightly and opened her eyes, a smile spreading across her face when she saw Harry watching her.

"Good morning," she said, her voice still heavy with sleep.

"Morning," Harry replied, unable to keep the smile off his face as he leaned in for another kiss.

They spent their last day together exploring the town, holding hands and stealing kisses whenever they could. They were both reluctant to say goodbye, but they knew it was only temporary. They had promised to stay in touch and make plans for future visits.

As they stood at the airport saying their farewells, Harry made a promise to himself – he would come back here whenever he could. This small town had captured his heart in more ways than one.

In the weeks that followed, they kept their promise and stayed connected through phone calls and messages. And when Harry's schedule allowed it, he would make the trip back to that small town, always finding new adventures and creating more memories with her by his side.

His bandmates noticed a change in him – he seemed happier, more at peace. And when they asked about it, all Harry could do was smile and tell them about this magical place that had become his sanctuary.

But as much as he loved visiting this small town and spending time with her, Harry knew that eventually their paths would diverge once again. His music career took him all over the world and she was rooted in this quaint little town. With that knowledge looming over them, they cherished every moment they had together. And in those moments, their love only grew stronger.

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thereceptioniststyles · 2 months

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Fleeting Moments

The morning sun creeps through the thin curtains, painting Harry's broad shoulders with a soft, golden hue. I trace the intricate tattoos that adorn his skin, my fingertips hesitating at the faded scars that tell a story of his rough past. We lay tangled together under the sheets, our bodies still humming with the remnants of our passion.

I feel my heart pounding in my chest, the uncertainty hanging in the air like a thick fog. Is it from the fear of what comes next, or the thrill of being with him? I can't quite tell, but I'm too lost in the moment to worry about it.

The only sound in the room is our soft, synchronized breathing, a lullaby that soothes any lingering doubts. I close my eyes and let myself get lost in the sensation of his skin against mine, the warmth of his body radiating through me.

But soon, reality will come crashing in. We both know this can't last forever. Our worlds are too different, our paths too divergent. Yet, in this moment, none of that matters. All that exists is him and me, and the unspoken promise of a love that transcends everything else.

I press a gentle kiss to his shoulder, savoring the taste of him, and silently vow to hold onto this feeling for as long as I can. Time may be fleeting, but moments like this are timeless, and I will treasure it for eternity.

As the morning light grows brighter, I can feel him stirring beside me. He turns towards me, his green eyes searching mine, and I know that he feels it too. The unspoken words that we both understand, but are too

"Harry," I whisper, breaking the silence. "What does this mean for us?"

He shifts beside me, his green eyes meeting mine for a moment before looking away. With a nonchalant shrug that causes a flicker of annoyance to flare within me, he avoids the question altogether.

"Can't we just enjoy the moment?"

I can feel my heart drop . We've been avoiding this conversation for too long, and I can't keep pretending that everything will be okay without addressing the elephant in the room.

"Harry, we can't just keep avoiding this," I say firmly, my voice betraying the hurt that's building inside of me.

He lets out a heavy sigh, his fingers absently tracing circles on my bare arm. "I know," he finally admits, his eyes still trained on anything but me.

"So what does this mean for us?" I ask again, needing to hear a definitive answer from him.

He pauses for a long moment before turning to face me fully. "I don't know," he says honestly. "But I do know that I care about you. A lot."

My heart swells at his words, but it's quickly replaced by a wave of frustration. "Then why can't we make this work? Why do we have to let our differences tear us apart?"

"Because those differences are still there," he replies with a sad smile. "And as much as I want to ignore them and just be with you, eventually they'll catch up to us."

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I realize the truth in his words. We come from different worlds. We may have found love in each other's arms, but it's not enough to bridge the gap between our two lives.

"I don't want this to end," I whisper brokenly.

"Neither do I," he says softly, brushing away a stray tear from my cheek. "But maybe it's better if we end things now before someone gets hurt even more."

My heart breaks at his words, but deep down I know he's right. As much as it hurts, we both need to let go before it's too late.

Silently, we hold each other, cherishing the moment.

I frown, feeling the sting of his indifference, but decide to let it go for now. We both sit up, the cool air causing goosebumps to rise on our exposed skin. He glances over at me, a small smile playing on his lips. "How about I make you some breakfast?"

"Thanks," I whisper, my voice barely audible, "but I think I should head home."

"Alright," he concedes, disappointment evident in his tone. He climbs out of bed and grabs a shirt from the floor, pulling it on as I find my own clothes scattered around the room.

As we dress, my mind races, trying to decipher his true feelings. Is he really so indifferent towards me? Or is he just scared of commitment? The silence between us grows heavier, and I can't help but wonder if this is the beginning of something more or just a one-time encounter that will fade into a distant memory.

My hands grip the steering wheel as I drive home, thoughts of Harry consuming me. The streets blur together, my mind racing with questions and doubts. Pulling into my parking spot, I take a deep breath to steady myself.

I unlock my apartment door and step inside, the sudden silence amplifying my loneliness. Harry's musky cologne clings faintly to my clothes, causing my heart to ache with longing. I can't help thinking about his tattoos - the intricate designs adorning his body, each one holding a story only he can tell.

"Maybe we could have something real," I whisper to the empty room, hoping speaking my thoughts out loud might make them feel more tangible.

Seeking solace in the familiar, I turn on the TV and sink into the couch, letting the movie play as background noise while my thoughts continue to wander. I imagine tracing my fingers across Harry's inked skin, learning the secrets behind every line and curve. My eyes grow heavy as fatigue washes over me, and eventually, I surrender to sleep.

The buzz of my phone jolts me awake. Rubbing my eyes, I glance at the clock on the wall – it is the middle of the night. Picking up my phone, I see a text from Harry: "Good night."

"Good night," I type back, my thumb hovering over the send button for a moment before pressing down. With a sigh, I lean back against the cushions, setting my phone on the coffee table.

I stare at the television, not really watching the images flickering across the screen. "Is this how it's going to be?" I wonder aloud, my voice barely rising above the hum. "Just two people, dancing around the truth?"

As much as I crave answers, I know I can't force Harry to reveal his feelings. All I can do is wait and hope that, in time, our connection grows stronger and the truth finally comes to light.

I stand, legs heavy as I drag myself down the dim hallway to my bedroom. The soft amber glow of streetlights filters through the curtains, casting warmth across the room. Sleep will be my only escape from this endless sea of thoughts and emotions, so I climb into bed, pulling the covers to my chin.

As I drift off, my dreams carry me back to that night with Harry. We are entwined in each other's arms, breaths coming in shallow gasps as we lose ourselves in a world where nothing else matters but us. In the hazy realm of dreams, I can almost feel the heat of his body pressed to mine, and I cling to the sensation, desperate for it to be real.

I feel Harry's chest rumble against me as he chuckles softly. "I don't know, Ayla, but it feels right, doesn't it?" he whispers.

"It does," I reply, my heart swelling with both happiness and uncertainty. I had whispered his name in my sleep, my voice barely audible. Now here we are, together in this moment that feels so right yet fills me with such mixed emotions.

The jarring beep of the alarm shatters my dream, dragging me back to wakefulness. I let out a groan, slapping at the snooze to buy myself a few more minutes of sleep. Blinking my eyes open, the hazy details of the dream slip away, leaving behind a lingering sense of warmth. Though Harry and I have yet to define things between us, at least I know there's a spark of something there. He feels it too.

With a determined mindset, I pushed myself out of bed and made a beeline for the bathroom. The warm glow of the sunrise filtered through the window, giving my skin an ethereal glow. Today was not just any ordinary day, it was a chance to impress – to look my best for work and for Harry. I meticulously applied my makeup, taking extra care to blend eyeshadow onto my lids and perfectly smooth out my foundation until my reflection glimmered back at me with undeniable confidence. Every stroke of the brush felt like painting a masterpiece, the final touch on this morning ritual before heading out into the world.

Maybe today will be different, I thought as I slipped into my favorite dress. Maybe today, we'll find the courage to talk about what happened.

As I brushed my hair, I couldn't help but glance at the clock, anxiety gnawing at the pit of my stomach. I didn't want to be late – not today, when so much was at stake.

"Alright, let's do this," I murmured, taking a deep breath before grabbing my purse and keys and stepping out of my apartment.

The morning sun greeted me as I locked my door behind me, its warm rays casting a golden glow on the world. With each step I took towards my car, my heart beat faster in anticipation – for today held the promise of answers, and maybe even a new beginning.

The engine of my car hummed softly as I pulled into my usual parking space at work, my hands gripping the wheel with a sense of determination. My heart, however, felt like it was about to burst from my chest. Today was the day – the day I would face Harry and finally discuss our relationship.

"Okay," I whispered to myself, taking another deep breath to steady my nerves. "I can do this."

As I exited the car, my heels clicked rhythmically against the pavement, each step echoing in the still morning air. The front doors of the office building loomed ahead, and I couldn't help but steal a glance at my reflection in the glass as I approached, noting with satisfaction that my extra effort had paid off – I looked stunning.

"Morning, Ayla!" chirped Sarah, the receptionist, as I entered the lobby. "You look amazing today!"

"Thank you, Sarah," I replied with a smile, trying my best to sound casual. "I just felt like dressing up a bit."

"Whatever the reason, it's working," said the receptionist, giving her a knowing wink.

I felt a flush rise in my cheeks, wondering if Sarah could somehow tell what was going on between me and Harry. I shook off the thought as I walked over to the front desk, scanning the room for any sign of him.

"Is Harry here yet?" I asked, attempting to keep my voice steady.

"Actually, no," Sarah responded, checking her computer screen. "He hasn't swiped in yet. That's odd; he's usually one of the first ones here."

My heart sank. I tried to hide my disappointment, offering a small, tight-lipped smile. "Well, I'm sure he'll be here soon," I said, turning away from the desk and heading towards my own workspace.

I spent the rest of the morning trying to focus on my tasks, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Harry. Was he avoiding me? Had last night's text been a way of saying goodbye?

"Maybe he just overslept," I reasoned with myself, glancing at the clock every few minutes, counting the seconds until our usual lunchtime rendezvous.

But as the hours ticked by, it became apparent that Harry wasn't coming – not today, at least. I felt an odd mixture of hurt and confusion welling up inside me, tears threatening to spill over onto my carefully applied makeup.

"Get yourself together," I chastised myself in a whisper, wiping away a single tear before it could fall. I couldn't afford to let my emotions get the best of me – not now, when there were still so many unanswered questions

Despite the heavy feeling in my chest, I resolved to carry on, hoping against hope that tomorrow would bring the answers I so desperately sought. But for today, all I had was the lingering scent of his cologne.

I run my fingers over my lips, still tingling from the kisses we shared. I remember the feeling of Harry's hand in mine, his touch electric and comforting at the same time. And now, the ache of his absence leaves a physical weight upon my chest.

The softness of his lips against mine, the way his fingers traced a path down my spine, sending shivers through my body. The memory of his touch still palpable, even in his absence.

Memories of our stolen night together rushed through me, my fingertips tingling as I remembered the touch.

Masterlist

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thereceptioniststyles · 2 months

Note

Is this series finished?! N are you writing something else?!

It’s far from finished! I have an update coming soon but life has been busy 🥲

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thereceptioniststyles · 2 months

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Tidal Waves

Smut

I was engulfed in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions as I navigated through the dimly lit streets towards his apartment. The weight of anticipation bore down on me, each step echoing the rhythm of my racing heart. Doubt gnawed at the edges of my mind, yet an insatiable curiosity drove me forward. I had to confront the truth, confront him, confront myself.

Behind the wheel of my car, my foot pressed harder on the gas pedal, a futile attempt to outrun the turmoil brewing within me. The confines of the vehicle seemed to shrink around me as anxiety coiled like a serpent in my chest. My clammy palms left imprints on the leather steering wheel as I gripped it with an almost desperate plea of relief.

Arriving at the apartment building, its facade shimmering under the gentle glow of the streetlights, I couldn't help but marvel at its beauty, even amidst the chaos raging within me. The biting chill of the night air seeped through my clothes, causing my teeth to chatter in protest. With trembling fingers, I composed a message to Harry, a beacon of my arrival in this tumultuous sea of uncertainty.

Moments later, as if on cue, the heavy doors swung open, revealing him standing there, a picture of casual confidence. His mere presence seemed to electrify the air around us, sending a shiver down my spine. "Ayla," he greeted with a sly smile, his voice a velvet caress that stirred something deep within me. "Fancy seeing you here.” He knew the power he held over me, the effect he had on my every thought and desire. And he reveled in it.

For a fleeting moment, I attempted to cloak my vulnerability with a veil of nonchalance. “Oh, ya know!” I joked, though the words felt hollow on my tongue.

With a swipe of his card, we entered the warm embrace of the lobby, a sanctuary from the biting cold outside. Grateful for the respite, I exhaled a sigh of relief, my breath visible in the crisp night air. The journey to the elevator and then to his apartment was marked by an eerie silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy between us.

As he unlocked the door, the anticipation reached a fever pitch, the moment of reckoning drawing ever closer. "Make yourself at home," Harry offered, his demeanor surprisingly gallant as he helped me shed my coat and scarf. It was a gesture so out of character for him, yet in that moment, I found solace in his unexpected kindness.

I settled into the familiar embrace of the couch, the cushions molding around me like an old friend. It was the same spot where our lips had intertwined in a fleeting moment of passion, a memory that now washed over me with a strange sense of tranquility. With each breath, my racing heart began to slow, the rhythm of my pulse syncing with the gentle hum of the room around me. It was almost as if the echoes of our previous encounters whispered reassurance in the silence.

From the kitchen, Harry's voice rang out, a knife cutting through the quiet. "I'm gonna make us some drinks," he called, the words floating effortlessly into the room. "Would you like yours strong or mild?"

I paused, mulling over his question with a delicate balance of desire and caution. I needed to fully immerse myself in the moment, to feel every sensation wash over me like a tidal wave. Yet, I hesitated, mindful of the fine line between indulgence and excess. "Strong," I finally replied, my voice carrying a hint of resolve.

A soft chuckle danced in the air, a melodic symphony that bespoke Harry's amusement. "That's my kinda girl," he quipped, his words laced with a playful edge that sent a flutter through my chest.

The symphony of clinking ice and pouring liquid serenaded my ears as Harry disappeared into the depths of the kitchen, his silhouette against the warm glow of the light in his kitchen. Moments later, he reappeared, two glasses cradled in his hands like precious treasures. "I can make more if we want, but these are... strong," he declared with a mischievous grin, a silent promise lingering in the air.

With a tentative sip, I discovered that his words held truth. The drinks were indeed potent, yet their intoxicating flavors danced on my tongue, a delicate blend of sweetness and spice that belied their strength. In the ensuing silence, broken only by the rhythmic clink of ice against glass, I found myself lost in the depth of my thoughts.

Suddenly, Harry's voice pierced the stillness, his words a gentle caress against the canvas of my mind. "Ayla," he whispered, his touch sending a shiver down my spine as he lifted my chin with a feather-light touch. "Good girl," he murmured, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. And in that moment, I felt a surge of conflicting emotions swirl within me, a tempest threatening to consume my fragile resolve.

His next words hung in the air like a delicate thread, laden with unspoken promises and whispered desires. "You know, I was a little hurt when you called out the other day. We could've had some fun." The implication hung heavy between us, a tantalizing invitation to dive headfirst into the depths of temptation.

A lump formed in my throat, my mind a whirlwind of uncertainty and longing. "Oh," I whispered, my voice barely a breathless murmur as I struggled to articulate the turmoil raging within me.

But Harry's gaze held a warmth that melted my defenses, his words a soothing balm against the jagged edges of my doubt. "It's okay, love," he reassured, his voice a gentle melody that washed over me like a wave. "We can make up for it. We can have some fun now, if you want."

And in that moment, with the weight of his gaze bearing down on me like an anchor, I nodded, my resolve crumbling like sandcastles against the tide. For in the depths of his gaze, I found solace amidst the storm, a beacon guiding me towards the shores of desire.

The look in his eyes as he held my gaze was intense, burning deep into my soul. I felt my heart race in anticipation, my mouth going dry. My skin tingled where his fingers brushed against my cheek, a gentle caress that sent shivers down my spine. I couldn't help but wonder how different this encounter would be from our previous ones; would it be the same passionate embrace or something new entirely? The air around us seemed to thicken, charged with an electric energy that made it hard to breathe.

Suddenly, Harry moved closer, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of my neck. His lips traced a path downwards, sending tingles rippling through my body, igniting a fire deep within me. His hands roamed across my skin, exploring every inch of my exposed flesh as he pulled me closer. We stood there for what felt like hours, our bodies pressed against each other in a dance of desire. The smell of his cologne filled my nostrils, an intoxicating mix of musk and leather that made me dizzy with longing. With slow deliberation, he lifted me up onto his lap, our bodies entwined and swaying together like two ships caught in a stormy sea. His hands glided over my hips and up my thighs, teasing and taunting even as they explored every inch of soft skin they could find.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered hoarsely against my earlobe before trailing hot kisses down towards my collarbone. A shiver ran through me at his touch; I felt like a candle being slowly melted by the heat of his gaze and breath. In return, I reached up to caress his cheek gently, my fingers tracing the contours of his strong jawline, Harry's lips found the hollow at the base of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

"Harry," I breathed out, my voice a barely there whisper, but my touch firm on his skin. He groaned softly against me, his body responding to my touch as he slipped one of his hands underneath my shirt, tracing light circles on my stomach.

With another slow kiss, this time on the pulse point on my neck, he murmured, "I've missed you." The warmth of his breath sent a shiver through me as he trailed more kisses down towards my collarbone and then lower still. His fingers moved under my pants now, grazing the sensitive skin above my panty line.

Tension coiled in my core at his touch as I arched into him unconsciously. In one swift movement, he pulled back from our embrace and slipped off his shirt exposing his toned torso before capturing one of my hands in his and placing it on him.

"Feel that?" He asked with a voice full of promise. I did feel it - the warmth of his skin against mine; firm yet inviting as he gave me permission to explore further. My fingertips traced the lines of his abdominal tattoos and the fine chest hairs before moving upwards towards broad shoulders and finally coming to rest at the nape of his neck where I hesitated for a second before pressing soft kisses there too. A low moan escaped him as our connection intensified.

The world around us seemed to blur into a hazy backdrop as we surrendered to the intoxicating allure of the moment. Each touch ignited a curation of sensations that reverberated through every fiber of my being, a blend of pleasure and desire that drowned out the whispers of doubt lingering in the recesses of my mind.

As Harry lifted me effortlessly from the couch, a rush of excitement surged through me, my heart pounding in anticipation of what was to come. The journey to the bedroom was a blur of intertwined limbs and shared laughter, the warmth of his touch searing through the layers of inhibition that had once held me captive. In that moment, the weight of the world seemed to dissipate, leaving only the echo of our laughter and the promise of what lay ahead.

Entering the bedroom, we stumbled like drunken revelers, a tangle of limbs and tangled clothes, our movements fueled by a heady mixture of desire and anticipation. With each step, the barriers between us crumbled like sandcastles against the tide, leaving only the raw, unbridled hunger that pulsed between us like a living thing.

Collapsing onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and laughter, we succumbed to the gravitational pull of desire, our bodies pressed together in a frenzy of kisses and caresses. The alcohol, a potent elixir, coursed through our veins like liquid fire, igniting a wildfire of passion that raged unchecked.

And then, in a moment that seemed to stretch on for eternity, he rolled atop me, his gaze a smoldering ember that threatened to consume me whole. His hair cascaded like a waterfall around his face, framing his features in a halo of disheveled perfection. With a hunger that bordered on desperation, he leaned down to capture my lips in a searing kiss, his touch igniting a wildfire of sensation that swept through me like a tidal wave.

The kiss deepened, his tongue delving into my mouth as his fingers tangled in mine, our nails scraping against each other's skin. The mattress springs squeaked beneath us as we moved together, our bodies grinding in the dance of desire. His hips pressed against mine, and I moaned into his mouth, feeling every inch of his hardness against my wetness. He broke the kiss to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down my jawline and collarbone, nipping gently at the sensitive skin before reaching for the hem of my shirt with shaking hands. I sat up to help him pull it over my head and tossed it aside.

His eyes darkened as he took in my naked chest, and he ran his fingers along the bridge of my bra before unclasping it with practiced ease. His lips trailed more kisses down my stomach while he pulled it off, setting my breasts free from their confines. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through me as he rolled it between his tongue and teeth. I arched into him, gasping for breath. Harry stood up and kicked off his pants before crawling back onto the bed, pinning me beneath him with a heated gaze.

Our bare skin met once more as he slid inside me in one smooth motion, filling me completely. His eyes closed tight as he moaned deeply against my neck while thrusting slowly inside me. It felt so good – better than ever before – and I wrapped my legs around him, urging him on with each steady rhythm of our bodies colliding. The sounds of flesh pounding against flesh filled the room as we lost ourselves together in ecstasy.

His movements grew more urgent, his breath hot against my neck and shoulders. I could feel his heart racing as we moved together, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the quiet room. Each thrust sent sparks of pleasure through me, igniting a fire that engulfed us both. With every stroke, he groaned and I moaned, lost in the ecstasy of our union. We moved like this for what felt like hours, our bodies intertwined in a dance of passion, every motion fueling another.

The sweet taste of his kisses lingered on my lips, mingling with the metallic tang of blood from where our teeth had occasionally nicked one another's skin. Harry's hands roamed over my body, exploring every curve and ridge with a possessive touch that made me yearn for more. His musky scent permeated the air around us, filling my senses with a heady mix of desire and need. As he drove into me harder and faster, the sound of flesh against flesh filled the room - creating an erotic song that drowned out all other thoughts.

The bed squeaked beneath us as we rocked back and forth, echoing the intense rhythm of our lovemaking. His cologne-soaked skin rubbed against my own sweat-slick body, heightening the experience further with each pass. And then, with a primal cry, he reached his climax - hips bucking violently as he thrust deep inside me one final time before collapsing upon me.

Our bodies trembled together in unison as we caught our breaths while entwined underneath the soft sheets. For a moment, we lay there in silence; content in the afterglow of our passionate embrace.

"Goddamn," Harry breathed, his voice ragged and raw from the intensity of our session. He rolled off me, his chest still heaving as he tried to regain his breath. I mirrored him, feeling the sweat drip down my forehead and the satisfied ache in my muscles.

Harry reached out and took my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. His thumb traced lazy circles on the back of my hand, sending shivers down my spine. "You're amazing," he murmured, his eyes locked onto mine.

I smiled, feeling my heart swell with emotion. "You're not so bad yourself," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

We lay there for a few more moments, our bodies still tangled together as we basked in the afterglow of our passion. The room was filled with the scent of us, a heady mix of musk and sweat that lingered in the air.

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Thin Ice

The remainder of the week dragged on at a torturous pace, each moment an agonizing eternity. I sat there, feigning indifference to Harry's kiss with Grace, but inside, I was seething. Every attempt to appear aloof and desirable was a facade crumbling under the weight of my madness. Finally, Friday crawled its way into view, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Weekends were my sanctuary, a respite from the torment of Harry's wandering eyes and suffocating presence. In the safety of my apartment, with only my cat for company, I could finally exhale.

December arrived, cloaking the world in a blanket of snow. The journey from my car to work became a treacherous dance on slippery ice, each step a battle to maintain balance and not fall to the ground. With every breath, I exhaled clouds of mist, each one a reminder of the bitter chill that permeated the air, mirroring the frostiness in my heart.

Lost in my thoughts, I trudged along the sidewalk, oblivious to the approaching figure until their touch jolted me from the depths of my mind, sending me crashing to the icy ground below.

"Oh, Ayla, love, I'm so sorry," Harry's voice pierced through the haze as I struggled to regain my composure.

Wincing, I attempted to pick myself up, but my limbs flailed uselessly until Harry extended his hand, pulling me to my feet. Though I was tempted to drag him down with me in my embarrassment, I refrained, my pride wounded enough.

"It's fine, Harry," I muttered through gritted teeth, my words as sharp and cold as the winter air. That enveloped

Standing before me, Harry's hands rested on my shoulders, his gaze scrutinizing as he pressed a light kiss to my forehead.

"You're a champ," he declared, his concern seemingly genuine.

"What do you want?" I snapped, the frustration boiling within me. I had strived for elegance and grace, yet here I was, sprawled on the ground like a clumsy fool.

"Just wanted to catch you before we tackle the day at work," Harry replied, his tone light.

"Why's Grace coming in later?" I inquired, unable to mask the bitterness in my voice.

Harry chuckled, his amusement grating on my nerves. "She left my place last night. Just a quick visit."

My blood simmered beneath my skin, ready to erupt.

"You know, Harry, being with you is like being in a damn car crash," I spat, my words laced with venom. "One moment, everything's smooth sailing, and the next, I'm slammed with the impact."

Harry stood there, stunned by my outburst, yet offering no resistance as I unleashed my pent-up emotions.

"Keep going," he encouraged, his voice carrying a hint of challenge.

"Why would you kiss me if you're just going to mess around with someone else?" I demanded, gesturing angrily between us. Tears threatened to spill over, betraying the storm raging inside me.

"I can't control what you think, Ayla," Harry retorted, his words slicing through me like shards of ice. "It was just a kiss. Grace is just a distraction. You have a talent for blowing things out of proportion. Grow up. No man wants a woman who acts like a child."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me to stew in a whirlwind of emotions. His scent lingered in the air, a bitter reminder of what could never be. I knew I couldn't face another day at work, trapped in his presence for eight agonizing hours. Today, I would break.

I grabbed my phone and fired off a quick text to Callie, concocting a story about a fall on the way to work and a trip to urgent care. It was a lie, of course. I had no intention of subjecting myself to the sterile, fluorescent-lit halls of the local clinic. No, my plan involved retreating to the sanctuary of my bed, cocooned in blankets, nursing wounds that were more emotional than physical. At least there, in the warmth of my covers, I could hide from the world.

As I trudged back to my car, frustration bubbled within me, threatening to boil over. With a primal scream, I unleashed my pent-up anger, pounding my fists against the unyielding metal of the steering wheel. Angry at myself for allowing things to reach this point, furious at Harry for his obliviousness to my worth, and seething at the universe for its cruel twists of fate.

The short drive back to my apartment was a blur of rage and resentment. I parked with a forceful slam, the sound reverberating through the quiet street. If I was going to be consumed by fury, then the whole world would bear witness to my wrath.

But even before I reached the elevator, my phone buzzed insistently in my pocket, interrupting my storm of emotions. With a sense of grim inevitability, I glanced at the screen. "Baby," read the text, a sickeningly sweet endearment that now tasted bitter on my tongue.

Part of me longed to turn the car around, to storm back into that office and unleash hell upon Harry. I wanted to shatter his complacency, to show him that I was not to be trifled with, that beneath my disguise of poise lay a warrior waiting to be unleashed.

But I hesitated. Instead of succumbing to the urge to confront him head-on, I made a different choice. A calculated one. If Harry wanted to play games, then I would play along. I would give him a taste of his own medicine, a bitter pill to swallow. And perhaps, in the twisted dance of our relationship, I would find some semblance of control amidst the chaos.

My fingers hovered over the screen, a storm of conflicting emotions swirling within me. I could feel the weight of Harry's words pressing down on me, his insidious manipulation threatening to drown me in a sea of doubt and desire.

With a trembling hand, I composed a response, each keystroke a battle against the tumult raging within me.

"I bet you like playing these games," I sent, my words a thinly veiled challenge, a gauntlet thrown down in the twisted dance of our relationship.

Seconds stretched into eternity as I awaited his reply, my heart pounding in my chest like a drumbeat of anticipation.

And then, there it was, his response illuminating the screen like a damning confession.

"I do."

The simplicity of his admission sent a chill down my spine, a stark reminder of the depths of his depravity.

But before I could formulate a reply, another message from Harry invaded my screen, each word dripping with poison.

"I like it. Almost as much as you liked when I kissed your forehead. I bet you wished it was your lips."

His words cut through me like a knife, slicing through the facade of indifference I had so carefully constructed.

I was stunned into silence, the weight of his implications crushing me beneath their unbearable weight.

"If you come over tonight I can show you what it feels like, in case you forgot."

His audacity left me reeling, my mind unable to comprehend the depths of his depravity.

Harry was sick, twisted, a puppet master pulling the strings of my emotions with callous disregard for the damage he wrought.

He knew the power he held over me, the way his words could unravel me with a single utterance.

And worst of all, he was right.

As much as I despised him, loathed the hold he had over me, a part of me yearned to succumb to his sick little mind games, to lose myself in the chaos of his embrace.

He knew all too well how to push my buttons, how to exploit my weaknesses for his own twisted pleasure.

And in that moment of painful clarity, I realized just how deep I had fallen into his web of deceit.

I was trapped, ensnared in his toxic embrace, unable to break free from the chains he had forged around my heart.

With a heavy heart and a trembling hand, I resigned myself to the inevitable, knowing that no matter how hard I fought, Harry would always be one step ahead, a puppet master pulling the strings of my shattered heart.

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No Control

Present Day

Tears welled in my eyes as I gazed at my therapist, Jo. The weight of my past bore down on me, each memory reopening wounds that seemed deeper than ever. But I couldn't carry this burden any longer; I owed it to myself, to Harry, to let it out.

Jo, my stalwart confidante, had been there through it all. From the shattered remnants of my parents' divorce when I was just 18 to the tumultuous storms of failed relationships and workplace conflicts, she had been my guiding light.

I remembered the first time I met Jo, seven years ago. Now, at 25, she still stood by my side, offering solace and understanding when I felt lost in the darkness of my own mind.

But as I sat there, the weight of my secrets pressing down on me, I found myself unable to speak. My throat tightened, and I was paralyzed, staring blankly at the wall, wishing fervently for time to whisk me away from this moment, to let me forget once more.

"Ayla," Jo's voice pierced through the silence like a lifeline. "It's okay if you're struggling. It's okay if the words won't come. But I can only help you as much as you allow me to."

The word "help" echoed in my mind, leaving me feeling small and vulnerable.

"I... I don't remember," I stammered, my voice trembling with the weight of my own deceit. But Jo's gaze was unwavering, her eyes seeing through my facade, silently urging me to confront the truth I had been avoiding.

"Ayla, what happened next?" Jo's voice pierced through the heavy silence, her gaze steady, urging me to continue.

Taking a deep breath, I mentally anchored myself, summoning the courage to delve into the painful memories that threatened to consume me.

I began to recount the heartbreak, the tears, and the relentless ache that had followed in the wake of Harry's betrayal.

"Harry ruined my life," I declared, the bitterness seeping into my words like poison. I could sense the urge to chuckle in Jo's eyes, but she restrained herself, knowing the gravity of my words. "I thought we had a chance. I believed he would be willing to invest the same effort as I was. After our kiss, I thought he would embrace me with the same fervor I held for him. It felt foolish, Jo, to leave Beck for someone who showed such blatant disregard for my feelings."

My mind wandered back to Harry, his carefree demeanor and his knack for brushing off serious situations with a joke. The thought of how effortlessly he would dismiss the impact of his actions on me gnawed at my soul.

As I sat there, pouring out my heart to Jo, I couldn't help but feel the weight of Harry's absence still haunting me years later, a ghostly presence that lingered in the corners of my mind, mocking the pain he had inflicted.

Past

Restless, I spun in my chair at the front desk, my heart pounding with anticipation for Harry's arrival. We'd been closing shifts together more frequently, and with each passing day, our connection deepened. Despite not knowing him on a profound level, I loved him fiercely. His presence alone was intoxicating—the scent of his cologne lingering in the air, the intensity in his eyes, the way his hands effortlessly ran through his hair. Every detail, every gesture, fueled my adoration. Harry was a complex blend of humor, seriousness, and undeniable charm.

But my affection for him was tested by his effortless flirtations with other women. He had a way of charming them effortlessly, leaving me simmering with jealousy. It seemed harmless until Grace entered the picture. Grace, with her effortless beauty and soft demeanor, had Harry's full attention whenever she entered the room. It was agonizing to watch as she twirled her hair and batted her eyelashes, capturing Harry's affections right before my eyes.

The night everything changed, they arrived together. My mind initially brushed it off as a coincidence until they exchanged a tender kiss at the doorway, sending shockwaves of betrayal through me. My Harry, the man I loved, kissing another woman. Anger bubbled inside me as I watched them, feeling the sting of his recent flirtatious texts still fresh in my mind.

"So," I managed to choke out as he entered, my voice thick with emotion.

"We're not dating, if that's what you think. Just hooking up” he said casually, as if his flippant explanation could erase the hurt.

"Oh," was all I could muster, feeling the weight of his words crushing me. I struggled to find my footing, knowing that one wrong move could shatter whatever fragile connection we had.

"Cool beans," I whispered, my voice barely audible, masking the turmoil raging within me.

"Come on, Ayla, don't play the innocent act," Harry's words cut through the air like a knife, his tone dripping with condescension. "It's just harmless flirting. Haven't you ever flirted with someone you didn't like?"

I shrugged, trying to mask the pain and betrayal coursing through me. Sure, I had flirted before, but it had never felt as public or as intimate as watching Harry cozy up to Grace just days after our own passionate encounter.

I spent the rest of the night in silence, unable to bear the thought of delving deeper into Harry's relationship with Grace. The mere idea of her, knowing she was everything I wasn't, fueled a rage unlike any I had felt before. I had left my boyfriend for Harry, sacrificing a stable relationship for a man who clearly didn't value my loyalty.

As Harry left early, leaving me to close up alone, I sat in solitude, drowning in memories of his touch and the taste of his lips against mine. But amidst the reverie, a bitter realization began to take root: it wasn't me who had ruined what we had, it was Harry. And I would soon learn that he was a master at leaving destruction in his wake, breaking hearts without a second thought.

Yet, despite the hurt and anger, I found myself unable to resist the pull of his charm. As long as he kept coming back to me, I told myself, I could overlook his indiscretions with other women.

Making a silent vow to myself, I resolved to enhance my appearance, invest in alluring lingerie, and strategize ways to capture Harry's heart. Despite the turmoil, my yearning for him only grew stronger, blinding me to the inevitable pain that lay ahead.

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Wandering Hands

We walked into Sonny's diner together, our hands intertwined. My heart was racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness, as I couldn't believe that this moment was finally happening. It was like a dream come true, yet at the same time, it felt almost too good to be true.

As we entered the cozy diner, everything suddenly became real and hit me like a jolt. The smell of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee filled the air, tempting my senses. Our tired waitress greeted us with a weak smile before leading us to a small, secluded booth in the corner.

As we settled into our seats, the comforting warmth of the diner enveloped me like a hug. Harry's deep green eyes bore into mine, his concern noticeable. He could sense my nerves and reached across the table to take my hand in his, providing me with a sense of comfort and support.

I took a deep breath and tried to play it cool, but deep down I couldn't shake off the guilt of breaking up with Beck just to be sitting here at this table with Harry. Was I making the right decision?

"I actually dumped my boyfriend," I finally confessed, unable to keep it inside any longer. Harry's eyebrows furrowed in surprise as he listened intently.

"That's tough," he sympathized, shaking his head slightly as his curly hair fell out of place. "But listen, come over to my place. I have a collection of records and we can just chill if you're into that sort of thing."

Part of me just wanted to crawl into bed and forget about everything, but I had broken up with Beck for Harry so I should at least try to enjoy it, right? And who knows, maybe spending time with him would help me forget about my worries.

"Yeah," I reluctantly agreed. "I think that would be nice. Just to get my mind off things for a bit." Harry nodded in understanding, his hand still holding mine.

Our conversation was interrupted by the waitress taking our order. As Harry quickly scanned through the menu, his emerald eyes flickering back and forth between options, I couldn't help but watch him intently. He settled on pancakes with bacon and without even looking, I ordered the same. Nothing sounded more comforting than a stack of warm, fluffy pancakes.

When our food arrived, it was even better than I could have imagined. The pancakes were perfectly golden brown and the bacon was crispy - a perfect combination of sweet and savory. Despite my protests, Harry insisted on paying for both of us before we left the diner in his SUV.

As we drove the short distance to his apartment, we made small talk but my mind couldn't help but wander to what his place would look like. I had always been curious about where he lived and now I was finally going to see it. My heart skipped a beat as we pulled up to a charming brick building with a "Welcome Home" sign hanging above the door.

We walked into the building and took the stairs up to Harry's apartment on the second floor. As he unlocked the door and let me in, I couldn't help but take in every detail of the space. It was filled with an eclectic mix of records and vintage decor, giving it a cozy yet cool vibe.

I couldn't stifle a smile as Harry showed me around, proud of the space he had created for himself. We settled in on his couch to listen to some music, surrounded by shelves stacked with old records from various artists.

As the evening went on, we talked and laughed while listening to some of our favorite songs. The initial nervousness had faded away and being with Harry felt so natural and effortless. I couldn't believe how much fun I was having just chilling at his apartment.

Harry turned to me, his green eyes curious and inquisitive. "You never told me why you broke up with your boyfriend," he said, his voice laced with concern as he walked in from the kitchen with a glass of water. I stood up to meet his eyes.

I hesitated, unsure if I should reveal the truth. But something about Harry's sincerity and genuine interest pushed me to open up. "The truth is, I felt guilty for dating someone else if I was falling for you," I admitted, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

His brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean, falling for me?"

I took a deep breath. "I don't know. I-it didn't feel right to continue dating someone else. But it's not serious."

He leaned in closer, his cologne filling my senses and making me feel dizzy. "Do you want it to be serious between us?" he asked, his gaze intense.

I nodded eagerly, unable to find the words to express how much I wanted him.

Silence filled the room as we both stood there, our hearts racing with unspoken desire. The soft crackling of the vinyl record added to the tension in the air.

Harry's hand reached out, gently tracing the curve of my cheek with his fingertips. My eyes fluttered shut at his touch. My body responded with a thrill of excitement. I pressed a kiss to his collarbone, savoring the feeling of his warm skin against my lips.

I looked up and our gazes locked, the tension between us thick and heavy. Harry's body pressed against mine, his lips hovering just millimeters away from mine as he traced a line of fire down my neck with his tongue. My breath hitched as desire pulsed through me, our chemistry igniting into a passionate embrace.

My body ignited with desire, my hands gripping his neck as I passionately devoured his lips, completely consumed by the intoxicating sensation of our mouths locked together.

Our bodies entwined in a frenzy of desire, our heavy breaths mixing with the sound of our lips smacking and tongues tangling. Harry's hands gripped me firmly, exploring every inch of my body with insatiable hunger. His touch ignited a fire within me, making me crave more and more of him.

I responded with a thirst, my fingers digging into his flesh as I pressed myself against his body. Our kisses were a fierce battle of desire, igniting a fiery inferno within us both.

Without pause, Harry sat and hoisted me onto his lap, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as we devoured each other's mouths. Our bodies moved in perfect unison, our hearts pounding wildly in sync with our primal desires.

Harry's hands, rough and calloused, gently grasp the strands of my hair as he leans in closer. The dim light catches the edges of his fingers, casting a glimmer on his skin.

The minutes dragged on like an eternity as Harry's breaths grew ragged and deep. As he finally pulled away, our eyes locked in a heated gaze that sent shivers down my spine. I knew then, without a doubt, that this was only the start of something wild and uncontrollable. My mind raced with conflicting emotions, unsure if it was sheer bliss or impending chaos. But for now, I chose to embrace the unknown and savor every moment of this intense journey.

The night came to a sudden end after our shared kisses, and as we exchanged bittersweet goodbyes, my heart swelled with conflicting emotions. Grateful for the unexpected turn of events, but also filled with a deep sadness at the thought of leaving Harry's side. With every fiber of my being, I wanted to stay in his protective embrace forever. But practicality dictated otherwise - he had work in the morning and I didn't want to be a burden. As I called for an uber, we stood in his kitchen, our bodies tense with unspoken feelings. In a moment of pure vulnerability, Harry pulled me into his arms and planted a tender kiss on my forehead. Little did I know, this one act would mark the beginning of a tumultuous and intoxicating journey ahead.

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thereceptioniststyles · 3 months

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Cutting Ties

My mind was racing as I realized what needed to be done - I had to end the relationship with Beck. Despite everything being almost perfect between us, there was a nagging feeling in my gut that something wasn't right. He took great care of me, always making sure I was happy and entertained, and his culinary skills were unmatched. In the two years we had been together, we never had a real argument. But it wasn't fair to him - a kind and loving partner - that I couldn't shake the persistent thoughts and attraction towards someone else: a man I didn't even know. As my conscience delved deeper, I admitted that I didn't truly know Harry either. I didn't know his quirks or his innermost thoughts and desires. All I knew was that he was mysterious and undeniably beautiful, but that alone could not justify betraying Beck's trust and love for me.

The drive home was excruciating, each mile feeling longer than the last. My mind raced with the decision I had made to end things with Beck, my first true love. Surprisingly, I didn't feel sadness or regret, but a sense of relief and empowerment for choosing what was best for me. Yet, as I neared my destination, a pang of guilt weighed heavy in my chest. How could I bring myself to break his heart? To make matters worse, I knew I couldn't face him in person and would have to do it over text. The thought made my stomach churn and tears prick at the corners of my eyes. As the car rolled to a red light I stopped I took a deep breath before mustering up the courage to deliver the heartbreaking message.

With a heavy heart, I withdrew my phone from my pocket and unlocked it. I navigated to the contact with his name - Beck. My fingers trembled as they hovered over the keyboard, hesitating before finally pressing down and typing out the words that had been weighing on me all day. "Hey Beck," I began, my thumbs moving quickly across the screen, "I've had a tough day at work and it's made me realize that I need a break. It's not your fault, I'm just struggling with depression and I need some space." The message sat there, blinking back at me with finality as I hit send.

As the light turned green, the all-too-familiar taunting three dots appeared on my phone screen indicating that he was typing a response. A sick hope stirred within me as I imagined him begging for me to stay. My heart ached for him to plead and hold onto me, to finally see that he was the one I truly needed. I secretly longed for myself to realize that falling for Harry had been a foolish mistake, when my true prince in shining armor had been by my side all along. The anticipation grew with each passing second, the relentless tapping of keys filling the silence between us. And then, finally, the notification of his message appeared on my screen.

I pressed on the gas pedal for a few more minutes, the rumbling of my car's engine filling my ears. Finally, I reached my designated parking spot and put the car in park. With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone and stared at the screen, knowing that my fate had already been sealed. Every decision I had made up until this point had led me to this moment, and there was no turning back now. The cold metal of the phone felt heavy in my palm as I prepared myself for what was

I started reading the text message on my phone, my hands trembling. "Hey Ayla," it began. "You're amazing, but I've been wanting to end things for a while now. I wasn't as ready for this relationship as I thought I was and I didn't have the courage to break up with you. I'll drop off your belongings at your house when you're at work and leave the key under the mat."

The air became thick and suffocating, like vines wrapping around my lungs as I grappled with the sudden betrayal and the emotions it evoked. The bitter taste of anger swirled in my mouth, a familiar taste that I had tried to suppress for so long. Finally, my mind accepted what my heart had been denying, and the realization weighed heavily on me.

As the aroma of freshly cooked dinner filled the small apartment, I plopped down on the couch, indulging in some much-needed downtime. The familiar theme song of Grey's Anatomy played in the background, luring me into the rollercoaster world of a fictional hospital. I couldn't help but draw parallels between the intense relationships on screen and my own tangled thoughts and emotions. As the drama escalated, tears flowed and characters died, I realized how much my life mirrored an episode of this popular show. But deep down, I knew that my life was not just a scripted storyline. When I let go of my self-imposed obstacles and allowed myself to thrive, I could accomplish great things. Lost in thought and daydreams, I drifted away from reality for a while, envisioning all the possibilities that lay ahead.

The gentle hum of the phone resting on the couch beside me broke through the silence, jolting me out of my thoughts. I reached over and picked up the sleek device, unlocking it to reveal a new message from an unfamiliar number. My curiosity piqued, I wondered who could be reaching out to me and what they wanted to say.

“Tomorrow @ Sonny’s 9 am - H”

My pulse quickened as my eyes scanned the message on my phone. H. Harry? My mind raced as I tried to remember when I had given him my number. Confusion and unease settled in as I decided not to respond. The message was direct, almost commanding, and didn't seem to require a reply. He wasn't politely asking me to meet him, he was telling me. But then again, I hadn't even accepted his offer of showing me around the city. It seemed like he had taken the liberty of making plans for us without my consent. And strangely enough, I found myself being okay with that, surrendering control to Harry.

Stepping into Sonny's was like stepping back in time. The classic diner, complete with retro decor and a glowing neon "Open" sign, exuded a sense of nostalgia that immediately enveloped me. The smell of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, inviting me to take a seat and stay awhile. This place held so many memories for me - lazy Saturday mornings spent here with my parents, indulging in their famous breakfast platters. It had been years since I last walked through those doors. A smile spread across my face as I remember the atmosphere, filled with families and friends chatting over steaming plates of pancakes and eggs. Sonny's was more than just a diner to me - it was a time capsule of cherished moments and a reminder of simpler times.

A sudden rush of excitement flooded through me, making it impossible to fall asleep that night. My mind was consumed with thoughts of Harry and what he must look like outside of work. I wondered about his personal style, if I would get a glimpse of more tattoos adorning his body. How did he choose to style his hair? Questions swirled around in my head as I indulged in fantasies of him once again. Each detail seemed to come alive in my imagination, creating a vivid image of the man who had captured my thoughts and desires.

The night faded into the dawn, as the first rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon. The city came alive with the bustling sounds of New York traffic and the chirping of birds in the trees. With a refreshed mind and a calm heart, I applied my makeup and styled my hair in an elegant half up half down 'do. My outfit was a perfect blend of casual and chic, ready to take on whatever the day may bring. As I sipped on a warm cup of chamomile tea, I closed my eyes and prayed for my nerves to settle before the upcoming events. And to my relief, they slowly did, leaving me grateful to the universe for this small moment of peace.

Sonny's was just a mile away, but I wanted to savor my time and enjoy the journey. With this in mind, I left my house thirty minutes early and set off on foot, the cool breeze caressing my skin as I strolled along the quiet streets. Along the way, I greeted familiar faces – my neighbors who were also out taking in the day. As I continued on my way, my stomach grumbled, reminding me that it had been a while since breakfast. Uncertain if we would be eating at Sonny's or simply meeting there, I resisted the urge to snack and instead focused on the sights and sounds around me. The soft rustle of leaves underfoot, the distant chatter of birds, and the occasional whiff of freshly cut grass all added to the peacefulness of my walk towards Sonny's.

As I strolled, lost in my thoughts, memories of my life flooded back to me. In the busy streets of New York City, solitude was a rare luxury. But I treasured these moments when I could just walk and let my mind wander. The fast-paced lifestyle here was a far cry from my upbringing in Florida, where days were slow and the people were laid-back. But I didn't mind the change; it had opened up a world of opportunities for me. Opportunities that I never would have had back in Florida. Working at my agency and rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous on a daily basis was something I could have only dreamed of before. New York truly felt like home now, and I couldn't imagine living anywhere else.

As I walked towards Sonny's, my mind went blank. At first glance, I didn't spot Harry... or did I?

As I lifted my gaze from the ground, I was struck by the sight of Harry getting out of a sleek black range rover. The sun glinted off the car's shiny surface, and I could see the muscles in Harry's arms flexing as he shut the door with a loud thud. His dark brown hair was perfectly styled, like it had been sculpted from marble, and his chiseled features were enhanced by a pair of stylish sunglasses. He looked like he was hand crafted by the gods. His casual outfit, consisting of a white t-shirt, a flannel shirt, and a navy peacoat, hugged his fit physique just right. I couldn't tear my gaze away from him, even as he walked towards me.

“Ayla, close your mouth before any flies decide to make themselves at home,” he teased with a grin. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment as I realized I had been caught staring at him.

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thereceptioniststyles · 3 months

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Golden Winter

The sun rose over the city, casting its golden rays upon the streets below. As I walked to work, the warmth of the sun enveloped me, a respite from the biting cold of winter. With a few extra minutes to spare, I treated myself to an iced coffee, the rich flavor awakening my senses and offering a moment of blissful escape from the hectic day ahead.

I took my time, savoring each sip and letting the tranquility of the quiet morning wash over me. But soon, the buzz of the city began to seep in, the sound of cars honking and people rushing by. It was a stark contrast to the peaceful moment I had just experienced, a reminder of the relentless pace of life in the city.

With a resigned sigh, I finished my coffee and made my way to work, bracing myself for the chaos and demands that awaited me. But for that brief moment, I had found a small slice of serenity, a reminder to appreciate the little joys in the midst of the daily grind.

As I walked, the breeze teased my hair, sending tendrils dancing around my face. Despite the perpetual chill that seemed to cling to me, I found solace in the cool weather, a rare reprieve from the frizz-inducing humidity.

Tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear, I steeled myself for the day ahead. Word had spread through the grapevine that a sudden departure had left Callie with no choice but to pair me with Harry for the night. Despite her best efforts to keep us apart, fate had other plans. With a resigned sigh, I braced myself for whatever the day had in store.

Entering the office, I exchanged greetings with my coworkers before settling in at my workstation. It wasn't long before Harry made his entrance, his presence a palpable shift in the atmosphere.

"Ayla," he acknowledged with a nod.

"Harry," I replied in kind.

Weekday nights at the office were predictably slow, a lull before the storm of potential PR crises that lurked on the horizon. With little to do but wait, the hours stretched out before us, a canvas waiting to be filled.

Callie's thinly veiled interest in Harry was no secret, the whispers of her invitation to her favorite bar echoing through the front desk. Yet, despite the tension that simmered beneath the surface, we carried on, our focus trained on the tasks at hand.

As the night wore on and the office emptied out, Harry's probing questions pierced through the silence, his confidence a stark contrast to my own uncertainty.

"Are you always this quiet, or do I make you nervous?" he teased, his smirk sending shivers down my spine.

I stumbled over my words, my breath catching in my throat. "I-I'm not nervous, I'm just doing my job," I managed to stutter, my facade crumbling under his relentless gaze.

He chuckled, undeterred by my feeble attempt at deflection. "Ayla, what work? It's just us and the last appointment checked out thirty-six minutes ago."

I sighed, realizing that he wouldn't let up anytime soon. "Fine," I relented, "you make me nervous."

His grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I know."

A heavy silence descended between us as we both grappled with the implications of our newfound honesty. And then, with a boldness that took me by surprise, he extended an invitation that sent my heart racing.

"Well, even though I make you nervous, I wanted to invite you over to my place to hang sometime. I live right behind here."

My mind raced, torn between the thrill of the invitation and the cautionary voice of reason. But before I could respond, he pressed on.

"Callie said its not a good idea." I hesitantly spoke up, my words carrying a weight of uncertainty as I remembered Callie's warning. Should I trust her advice, or follow my own instincts? The internal conflict made my voice shake as I blurted out the words, unable to hold them back any longer.

He arched an eyebrow in confusion. "You're going to listen to Callie? She's not your mom."

And he was right. Callie wasn't my mother, but her words carried weight, a convenient excuse to avoid the inevitable temptation that lay before me.

"I have a boyfriend, Harry," I countered, my voice wavering, "I don't think he would want me hanging out with another boy... alone."

His gaze softened, a hint of understanding in his eyes. "Then I can meet him. Prove I'm not a bloke."

The tension between us was palpable, a heavy weight that rested in the air, taunting us with its presence. I could see the challenge in his gaze, daring me to give in to the pull I felt towards him. And as I hesitantly nodded my head, I could see the mixture of excitement and uncertainty on his face.

Throughout the night, we talked and laughed, sharing snippets of our lives as the hours slipped away unnoticed. Harry was charming and kind, his easy demeanor a stark contrast to the complexities that lurked beneath the surface. With each passing moment, I found myself drawn deeper into his orbit, the promise of something more tantalizingly within reach.

As the night wore on, Harry and I continued to delve deeper into each other's lives, sharing stories and experiences that revealed more about our true selves than we had intended. But despite my growing unease, I couldn't deny the undeniable chemistry between us, a magnetic pull drawing us ever closer together.

With each passing moment, I found myself falling harder and harder for him, captivated by his charm and wit. And yet, a part of me couldn't help but wonder what hidden truths lay buried beneath the surface of his charming facade.

But as the night drew to a close and we closed our doors, I pushed those thoughts aside, eager to prolong our time together for just a little longer. As we said our goodbyes at my door, he leaned in close and whispered one final invitation.

"I can show you around town tomorrow if you'd like," he suggested with a playful grin. "I know all the best spots."

As I thought about the possibility of spending more time with him, my heart began to flutter like a butterfly's wings. But my mind quickly intervened, warning me against such actions. After all, I was already in a committed relationship and the idea of going against that made me feel uneasy.

"Think about it," he chirped before pulling away with a wink.

As I watched him walk away with a spring in his step, an inner conflict raged within me. On one hand, I was drawn to his confident and carefree nature, craving more moments like this one. But on the other hand, doubts gnawed at me as I thought about my boyfriend back home. It wasn't until he walked away did I notice I had no way of contacting him to confirm or deny his invitation to hang out.

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thereceptioniststyles · 3 months

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Masterlist

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles masterlist #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry smut #harry styles fic #harry styles fiction #harry edward styles #harrystyles #lhh #lhh supremacy

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thereceptioniststyles · 3 months

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Burning Desire

The relentless passage of time without Harry by my side felt like a slow descent into madness. Each day stretched endlessly, a torturous cycle of longing and frustration. It was as if the universe itself conspired against us, orchestrating our schedules to keep us apart. My manager, with her cunning schemes, seemed to relish in our separation, ensuring our paths never crossed with a diabolical precision that bordered on cruelty.

With each passing moment, the chasm between us grew wider, a gaping void that threatened to swallow me whole. Our schedules, so meticulously opposite, became a cruel twist of fate, denying us even the slightest chance of connection. And yet, I clung to the belief that it didn't matter, that I could resist any trap Harry might set, if indeed there was one at all.

But as the days turned into weeks, the emptiness of his absence became unbearable. It was a constant ache, a gnawing hunger that consumed me from within. My mind replayed our last encounter over and over again, his tousled hair, the warmth of his hand enveloping mine. I tried to bury these memories, to focus on my work, but they lingered like a specter, haunting every corner of my consciousness.

In the midst of this turmoil, Beck remained a steadfast presence in my life. Though not as striking as Harry, he knew me in ways no one else did. Our bond, forged through laughter and shared experiences, should have been enough to sustain me. And yet, there was a darkness within me, a jealousy that festered and grew with each passing day.

I tried to push these feelings aside, to bury them beneath a facade of dedication and loyalty. But deep down, I knew the truth. I was consumed by thoughts of Harry, by the forbidden fantasies that danced tantalizingly at the edges of my mind. I imagined his lips against mine, his arms around me, and I burned with a desire so fierce it threatened to consume me whole.

But still, I resisted. I was determined to remain faithful to Beck, to honor the commitment we had made to each other. And yet, as the days dragged on, I couldn't help but wonder what might have been. What untold possibilities lay beyond the confines of our current reality?

In the depths of my despair, a spark of defiance ignited within me. I refused to let my manager's manipulations dictate my fate. I would fight tooth and nail for the chance to be with Harry if there was even a chance at all. For in his arms, I knew, lay the possibility of a love so powerful it could transcend the boundaries of time and space.

And so, with renewed determination, I set out to defy fate itself, to seize the happiness that had been denied to me for far too long should the opportunity arise. For I knew that true love was worth any sacrifice, any risk.

And then, as if the universe itself conspired to grant me a reprieve from the relentless torment of our separation, fate intervened in the most unexpected way. It was a stroke of mysterious luck, a twist of fortune so improbable it seemed almost too good to be true. The second closer of the night fell victim to the flu, leaving a void that only one person could fill—Harry.

Weeks had passed since I last laid eyes on him, weeks filled with the same agonizing routine, the same replayed scenarios etched into the fabric of my existence. Weeks where I dared to hope for the chance encounter that would shatter the suffocating barrier between us. And now, as I sat on the edge of my seat, my heart pounding with anticipation, it seemed that hope had finally materialized.

The chaos of the office enveloped me, phones ringing, clients bustling in and out, but my attention remained singularly focused on the entrance, waiting for him to appear. And then, almost imperceptibly, he slipped through the door, a sudden presence in the whirlwind of activity.

I felt his presence before I saw him, a familiar warmth tingling at the edges of my senses. And then he was there, beside me, spinning in his chair with a childlike exuberance that belied the gravity of our situation.

"Ayla," his voice cut through the cacophony, drawing my gaze to meet his, "It's been a while, yeah?" His grin was infectious, a fleeting glimpse of the camaraderie we once shared.

I nodded, my throat constricted with emotion. "Yeah, Harry, it's been a minute."

There was a pause, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air between us. And then, with a casualness that belied the significance of his next words, he spoke.

"Ya know, Callie asked me to come over for drinks at hers."

My heart stuttered, a surge of conflicting emotions coursing through me. "Oh? Yeah? Are you going to go?"

He chuckled, a sound as bittersweet as it was familiar. "No."

The conversation faltered, the silence punctuated only by the rhythmic clacking of keys. And then, in a moment of reckless abandon, I seized upon the opportunity to lay bare my own hidden truths.

"Callie told me I should stay away from you."

His laughter echoed in the stillness, a haunting melody that reverberated through the depths of my soul. And when he turned to meet my gaze, his eyes held a sadness that mirrored my own.

"She's probably right," he murmured, his voice tinged with resignation, "I'm a bad idea."

And in that moment, as the weight of our shared regret hung heavy in the air, I knew that some mysteries were better left unsolved, some desires better left unfulfilled.

As I stepped into the quiet solitude of my apartment, the pieces of Callie's deceit fell into place with a chilling clarity. It wasn't merely a matter of avoiding emotional entanglements; it was a calculated bid to claim Harry for herself. The realization hit me like a tidal wave, crashing over me with the force of a thousand regrets. Callie wasn't afraid of me succumbing to Harry's allure; she was terrified of him choosing me over her. Her elaborate scheme to keep us apart crumbled in the harsh light of truth. She may have been misguided in her actions, but in her twisted logic, she was right. And so was Harry—it was indeed a bad idea.

The air in my apartment felt heavy with the weight of betrayal and disillusionment as I was greeted by Beck, his apron tied loosely around his waist, the aroma of sizzling steak and potatoes wafting from the stove. His tender kiss on my cheek and the gentle brush of his thumb across my lips were a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within me.

"Hi Love," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to my frazzled nerves, "Dinner is just about ready. I made some steak and potatoes for you."

I managed a small smile in response before shedding my coat and sinking onto the couch. Exhaustion washed over me like a tidal wave, the weight of the day's events bearing down on me with relentless force.

Beck must have sensed the heaviness in my demeanor as I stared off into the distance, lost in my own thoughts.

"You look tired," he observed, concern etched into his features, "Do you just want to go to bed?"

I nodded wearily, the desire for escape overwhelming me.

"Yeah, Beck, I'm sorry. It was a day. A bad day. Thanks for dinner. I'll bring it for lunch tomorrow."

His understanding smile only served to deepen the ache in my chest as he hugged me goodnight.

Alone in our bed, I lay there, the echoes of Harry's words reverberating through the recesses of my mind like a haunting refrain.

"I'm a bad idea."

And yet, despite the warning bells ringing in my head, the allure of Harry only intensified. The forbidden fruit dangling just out of reach, tantalizing me with its dangerous promise. As sleep claimed me, I clung to the hope that perhaps, just perhaps, he could offer the solace I so desperately craved, even if it meant succumbing to the very danger I knew I should avoid.

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thereceptioniststyles · 3 months

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Stolen Glances

Harry.

His name echoed in my mind, a constant presence that refused to let me sleep. I was consumed by an insatiable curiosity about him. When would our paths cross? What did he really look like? Did he possess the necessary skills to excel as a receptionist? These questions may have seemed trivial, but little did I know that Harry would become the catalyst for the destruction of my entire existence.

The days crawled by, each one dripping with mounting anticipation. I found it nearly impossible to concentrate, the mere thought of his imminent arrival sending shivers down my spine. And yet, fate had a cruel twist in store for me. Our meeting would not unfold as I had envisioned. No, it would be the other way around.

I parked my car on the desolate street, my hands trembling as I rummaged through my purse in search of my employee badge. The frigid air bit at my fingers, numbing them to the bone, making it a challenge to locate the badge amidst the chaos within my bag. After what felt like an eternity, I finally grasped it, only to have my nerves intensify as I hastened my pace down the pavement. The weight of the unknown bearing down on me.

I arrived at the entrance of the imposing building, the echo of my footsteps drowned out by the sound of my racing heart. With a trembling hand, I swiped my ID card, granting myself access to the enigmatic realm that awaited me. As I stepped inside, my eyes were immediately drawn to the reception desk where two girls engaged in animated conversation, their attention seemingly fixated on a phone call, undoubtedly scheduling an appointment. And then, it happened. Our gazes collided. Him.

Harry was nothing like the image I had constructed in my mind. In my fantasies, he was a polished intellectual, a charming nerd of sorts. But reality shattered my illusions. I stood there, rooted to the spot, utterly stupefied. Callie had not been exaggerating when she spoke of his attractiveness.

He was breathtaking. His dark hair cascaded in gentle waves, as though meticulously crafted to caress his forehead with effortless grace. His eyes, oh those piercing green eyes, possessed an intensity that could penetrate the very walls of my soul. His skin, concealed beneath a rolled-up button-down shirt, hinted at a fair complexion tinged with a subtle tan. And there, just beneath the cuff, tantalizing glimpses of inked artistry teased my hungry eyes.

My heart threatened to burst through my ribcage, its erratic beats echoing in my ears like a war drum. I prayed fervently that he hadn't caught me in the act of staring, my gaze fixated on him like a moth drawn to a flame. With trembling hands, I gathered my belongings, desperate to appear composed as I scurried towards my desk. I cast my eyes downward, then upward, anywhere but in his direction. I struggled to regain my focus, but it was an uphill battle. The world around me seemed to freeze, time grinding to a halt while my palms grew clammy with nervous perspiration.

As clients checked out and appointments were booked, I threw myself into the tasks at hand, a whirlwind of activity to distract myself from the magnetic pull of Harry's presence. I rushed to answer the phone, offering assistance to the person on the other end of the line. I did everything in my power to keep my hands and mind occupied, until I reached a point where distraction was futile.

One girl was engrossed in a phone call, another on her lunch break, and suddenly it was just Harry and me. I stole glances in his direction, catching glimpses of him, absorbed in learning the intricacies of the computer system. I could feel his eyes on me too, a magnetic connection that sent shivers down my spine. I silently thanked myself for taking the extra time to primp and preen, unwilling to appear anything less than presentable in his presence. After all, a guy like him, he was practically divine.

Suddenly, a voice shattered the cacophony of conflicting thoughts that had been swirling in my mind. The sound of his chair wheels sliding across the floor reverberated through the air, drawing my attention towards him.

"Hi," Harry's voice was a soft whisper, sending an electric current coursing through my veins. "I'm Harry."

In those few words, I felt a primal surge of wildness coursing through my being. It was as if my very essence had been awakened, ready to unleash an untamed, feral side of myself that I never knew existed.

The desire coursing through my veins was insatiable, an all-consuming fire that threatened to consume me whole. I longed to tear through any obstacle that stood between us, to claw my way to him and feel the strength of his arms, hidden beneath those rolled-up sleeves. My heart yearned to devote itself entirely to him, to become a willing sacrifice at the altar of his presence. In that moment, he was a god, and I was but a mere mortal, ready to surrender myself to his whims.

I nodded, my head barely moving, as if I were in a trance. I paused, gathering my thoughts for a fleeting moment, before slowly lifting my gaze to meet his. His emerald eyes bore into the depths of my soul, capturing my very essence in their hypnotic gaze.

"I'm Ayla," I whispered, my voice barely audible. I kept my introduction brief, fully aware of the potential to make a complete fool of myself. I had to tread carefully, to consider my every word and action in his presence.

A smile played at the corners of his lips, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as he extended his hand towards me, an invitation for a handshake. My hand trembled as it found its place within his, our palms meeting in a delicate clasp. A surge of electricity surged through me, setting my entire body ablaze.

"So, do you enjoy this job?" Harry inquired, his voice laced with genuine curiosity and a thick British accent. I nodded, a silent affirmation of my satisfaction.

"Yeah, it's fun. It has its ups and downs, but then again, what job doesn't?" I replied, attempting to maintain composure despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within me.

Our eyes remained locked, an unspoken connection forming between us, until our manager emerged from her office, interrupting the charged atmosphere. She was a stern, no-nonsense woman who commanded respect with every stride. Her presence was a stark contrast to the intoxicating aura that surrounded Harry.

"Ah, Harry," our manager's voice cut through the air, her tone businesslike yet friendly. "I see you've met Ayla, one of our valued team members."

Harry released my hand, reluctantly breaking our connection, and turned towards our manager. "Yes, we just had a very brief introduction," he replied, his voice betraying a hint of warmth.

"Well, Ayla," our manager addressed me, her gaze piercing. "I trust you'll show Harry the ropes and ensure he settles in smoothly."

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest as I absorbed the weight of her words. Showing Harry the ropes meant spending more time with him, delving deeper into the enchanting allure he exuded. It was an opportunity I simultaneously craved and feared.

"Of course," I managed to say, my voice steady despite the torrent of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.

"Ayla," she declared with a commanding tone, her voice cutting through the air like a sharp blade. "Step into my office. I have a question."

I rose swiftly from my desk, relief washing over me like a cool, soothing wave. She had come to my rescue, sparing me from the torment of prolonging the conversation with him. It wasn't right for me to entertain such thoughts, especially when I had a devoted boyfriend. Though our demanding schedules kept us apart, Beck and I had been together for nearly two years, and the last thing I needed was to be consumed by thoughts of another man who seemed out of my league.

I obediently followed Callie into her office, the heavy door clicking shut behind us. She pivoted to face me, her eyes piercing into mine, as she settled into the chair across from me.

"So," she began, her voice dripping with caution and concern, "Harry is undeniably attractive, and it's no secret that everyone finds him so. But you and Harry? That's a dangerous path, Ayla. I know you have a boyfriend, but life has a way of throwing unexpected curveballs, doesn't it? Focus on your work, stay grounded, and you'll be just fine. Besides, Harry, well, he's considerably older than you, isn't he?"

I nodded, though deep inside, I was engulfed in a sea of uncertainty. How could she draw such conclusions from a mere introduction and a brief handshake? It was unprofessional of her to pry into my personal affairs, but there was a grain of truth in her words. I had Beck, my pillar of support, the one who stood by my side.

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thereceptioniststyles · 3 months

Text

His Name is Harry

Five Years Ago

The November wind sliced through the air with a sharpness that seemed to penetrate to the core of my being. It whipped at my cheeks, stinging my skin as I made my way from the car to my place of employment, Nextgen Publicity. Nestled in the outskirts of New York City, this humble PR firm stood as a quiet oasis amidst the bustling chaos of the city. Little did I know that today, this seemingly ordinary day, would mark a turning point in my life.

As a receptionist, I had grown accustomed to the ebb and flow of mundane tasks that greeted me each day. Yet, within the monotony, I found solace in the relationships I had forged with some of our esteemed clients. From A-list celebrities to influential entrepreneurs, I relished the opportunity to rub shoulders with the rich and famous. It was an environment that allowed me to witness firsthand the glitz and glamour, while also maintaining a sense of grounded normalcy. Despite the simplicity of my role, I couldn't complain. I basked in the ease of my work, shielded from the relentless storm of celebrity scandals that often consumed the headlines.

Stepping into the reception area, I found myself flanked by a handful of other women, each absorbed in their tasks. Some wore friendly smiles, their warmth radiating through the room, while others maintained an air of guarded professionalism, their coldness serving as a constant reminder of the impersonal nature of our professional lives. Yet, even amidst the apathy that sometimes permeated the space, I managed to find a few kindred spirits, souls with whom I shared a fleeting connection. They were my allies in this sea of superficiality, offering a sense of camaraderie that made the days a little brighter.

With a firm grip, I seized the cold metal handle of the door, bracing myself for the onslaught of the wintry gust that awaited me. The wind howled and tugged at my clothes, threatening to steal away the warmth I had sought within the confines of my car. I unwound the scarf that had been draped loosely around my neck, feeling the chill of the air seep into my bones. I quickly shed my jacket, its weight no longer necessary within the heated confines of the office. With a practiced grace, I stowed them away in the drawer behind me, ensuring that they were neat and out of sight.

Taking my customary seat by the window, I surveyed the scene before me. The reception desk, adorned with its polished surface and neatly arranged supplies, stood as a fortress of organization amidst the chaos that often ensued. A sense of purpose settled upon me as I swept my hair up into a tight bun, ready to face the whirlwind of activity that awaited me. Answering calls, scheduling appointments, and managing the flow of visitors had become second nature, but today, something felt different.

I glanced over, only to meet the unwavering gaze of my manager, Callie. Her piercing eyes bore into mine, laden with unspoken words and hidden intentions. In that fleeting moment, doubt and uncertainty consumed me, as I questioned every move I had made since stepping foot into the office. What had I missed? Had I fallen short of expectations? The weight of her stare seemed to carry the weight of the world, and I braced myself for the impending revelation.

Silently, Callie traversed the room, her footsteps echoing with an air of anticipation. Each click of her heels seemed to reverberate through the space, amplifying the tension that hung in the air. With each passing second, my heart raced, a crescendo of anxiety building within me. Finally, she reached me, her hands coming to rest on the counter, her grin inscrutable.

"Ayla, how are you today?" she inquired, her voice tinged with a mischievous undertone that sent a shiver down my spine.

"I'm... I'm good, thank you, Callie," I stammered, mustering a feeble smile to match her own. But beneath the surface, a torrent of emotions threatened to engulf me. What was she about to reveal? Was it praise or reprimand? I braced myself for the impact, my mind racing through all the possible scenarios.

Callie was a complex figure, a boss who could be both exceptional and flawed. Her dynamic personality made her a force to be reckoned with, yet her Achilles' heel lay in her entanglement with employee drama, her desire to forge connections with everyone. While this camaraderie was welcomed in lighter moments, it had the potential to overshadow her managerial duties, leaving a trail of hurt feelings and unaddressed issues in its wake. As a result, navigating the intricacies of our relationship was always a delicate dance, one that required finesse and adaptability.

She giggled, her amusement filling the room, before playfully slamming her hands onto the counter, the sound reverberating through the otherwise hushed atmosphere. "So, we've managed to fill the open spot," she announced, her tone laden with excitement.

A glimmer of hope flickered within me. The vacant position at the front desk had plagued us for months, but with the busy season fast approaching, relief was in sight.

"Oh, yay! That's fantastic news. When does she start?" I inquired eagerly, my clapping hands betraying my enthusiasm.

Callie's laughter rang through the air, a delicate melody that masked a hidden truth.

"She? Ayla, not all receptionists are girls," she teased, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

I froze, my mouth suddenly parched. It wasn't that I held any bias against men; on the contrary, I appreciated a handsome face as much as the next person. But the prospect of a man joining our predominantly female front desk team ignited an inferno of curiosity within me. How would the delicate balance of our camaraderie be affected? We had never encountered such a scenario before, especially not with the presence of an attractive man.

Suppressing my unease, I managed a nervous chuckle, attempting to mask the whirlwind of emotions swirling within me. "So... We've hired a boy?"

Callie nodded briskly, her eyes betraying a hint of exasperation. "Yes, and from what I've heard, he's quite easy on the eyes."

A lump formed in my throat, choking back a tide of questions. What was his name? Or was his appeal the only information we possessed? Callie sighed softly, her voice laced with resignation.

"His name... his name is Harry," she revealed, her words hanging in the air, heavy with unspoken possibilities.

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