pattered pants

Harry Styles - “Office Flirt”

So @blueeyedsoulme and I were having a chat about working in an office and just jobs in general and then it turned into imagining someone like Ed Sheeran or Harry working in an office. It ended up in a full on swapping of ideas for what Harry would be like in an office job. We both began to fangirl so much over picturing our ideas that I decided to write it. Enjoy!


Harry Styles was the talk of the office. He always had been. He was funny, smart, attractive and a complete flirt. He was that guy that had every girl in the office wanting him and every guy wanting to be him. He would have several of the girls huddled together a distance away from him, whispering about the unique and slightly ostentatious pattered pants, silk shirts and multiple gaudy rings on his fingers. He loved every bit of the attention as he was a self proclaimed narcissist. 

He would ask female co-workers to join him for lunch, shoot the group of giggling women a smirk causing them to break into a round of whispered giggles. He lived for it all.

There of course was one person in the office seemingly unaffected by his charm and good looks. There was no denying that he was attractive but for whatever reason you didn’t seem to care. And that drew him to you even more. At first he thought he was drawn to you because of your lack of care towards him but he quickly realized it was something more. 

He was attracted to you, your smile, your drive, your dedication to your job and that office. You were beautiful and he wanted to be close to you as much as possible. 

He was acting like a teenage boy in love. He would take the long way back to his desk just so he could pass yours and take in how you looked that day, the way you wore clothes that flattered your figure and brought out the gorgeousness of your eyes and how focused you were on your task at hand, making sure it was done to perfection. 

He would make sure to take the seat beside you as often as possible in staff meetings. He was caught up in you and wasn’t sure how to go about letting you know that, if he even should. The lunch dates with other co-workers was just a past time. He never did anything more but flirt, no matter how much they all but begged him for more. 

“Hey, Y/N,” He stepped up to your desk early one Monday morning. He leaned his hip against the side of your desk, looking down at you, attempting to draw your attention to him but your eyes stay focused on the monitor before you. 

“Hey,” You would answer back, still not looking up at him. 

“Anything fun happen over the weekend?” He questioned, hoping to strike up a full conversation with you but all you did to show you were listening was glace up at him before turning to a stack of folders beside you, studying the information printed on it. 

“Not really,” You eventually answered before you finally turned towards him, swiveling a bit in your chair. You look up into his green eyes but again, he notes how unaffected you seemed to be. “Finished a book from my seemingly never ending stack.” You answered, giving a shrug. You then turned back to your monitor and Harry knew the conversation was over as you didn’t make an attempt to ask how his weekend was. Not that he did anything much, but he would have still talked about it anyway. 

“Okay, well…” He stood up straight and decided to call it finished and head back to his desk. “Have a good day.” He turns then, grimacing a bit at what you surely thought was an awkward conversation and took a few steps towards his desk that was across the large open space. 

“Oh hey, Harry!” His heart skips a beat when you call after him. He turns back immediately, noting the group of girls standing a few desks over, eyeing the interaction but offers them no sign that he cared. 

“Yes?” He questions, giving you a small smile. 

“I accidentely grabbed these from the printer when I got my things earlier, they are yours, right?” You hold out a small stack of papers that Harry had in-fact printed out earlier when he saw you heading for the printer. He had planned on meeting you over there to to strike up a conversation but got held up by the boss coming over to ask what was going on with a certain client. 

“Oh yeah, righ’, thanks.” He grabs for them and you turn back to the computer after offering him a smile. He sighs and heads back to his desk, feeling a big dejected. 

It was a few days later, after a few more short encounters, that he finally decided to make an actual move and make sure you were aware of how he felt. He went to Starbucks that was next door, ordering the drink you got every morning - yeah, he had memorized your order. Was that creepy? Possibly, but he hoped you would see it as a kind gesture anyway. 

He saw you there when he walked in, drink in hand, seated at your desk already. You were pouring over a file, a small crease formed between your brows as you also bit at your lower lip. He came to a halt a few steps away from your desk, his heart beating rapidly against his ribs as he thought about what he intended to say. He finally took a few deep breaths, building up the courage to do this. 

He simply places the drink beside your keyboard and waits for you to notice. When you do, you turn towards him, a frown on your face as you glance down at it. 

“What is this?” You question. Harry, or anyone in the office for that matter, had never gotten you coffee.

“You’re favorite.” He comments with a small shrug of his broad shoulders, offering you up a smile. 

“Oh,” You noted how he had in fact gotten you the correct order. You were slightly flattered as you reach for it but also more so confused. “Thank you.” You take a sip of it then. “Why, though?” You ask him, eyeing him over the rim of the cup as you take another drink. 

“I wan’ to talk to you about somethin’.” He reveals, moving a stack of papers from your desk to take a seat. You eye him cautiously, not sure what he was getting at. 

“And what is that?” You look up into his green eyes, feeling yourself needing to suddenly take a deep breath of air as you got short of breath. You wondered what he had to say and why you could basically feel the nerves radiating off of him. Harry was always so confident with the other girls in the office, you saw how he was with them, had seen him flirting with them and having lunch with them, making them laugh and giggle. He had even asked you to lunch multiple times but you had said it was going to be a working lunch that day and simply couldn’t. You didn’t want to just be another one of those girls he flirted with, that just wasn’t you. 

“Come to lunch with me today.” You sigh but he continues on. “I know, I know, I’ve asked before and you don’ wan’ to, but I’m no’ askin’ you like how I do anyone else in the office. ‘m askin you because I wan’ to spend time with you, I wan’ to ge’ to know you. I like you, Y/N, I mean truly like you.” 

“Harry,” You shake your head, giving yet another sigh. “Even if you like me more than how you like the other girls, I don’t want to get involved with the office flirt.” Harry knew he deserved that reputation. There was no reason to deny such a thing, that’s what he was. 

“I told you, it’s no’ like tha’ with you.” He tries assuring you but he could still see the hesitancy. “Okay, jus’ one lunch with me. Give me the chance, at least to ge’ you to see it.” You sigh then, staring up at his face, seeing that he was seemingly being completely sincere. 

“You’ll stop flirting with everyone if I agree to go to lunch?” You question. Maybe not seeing him constantly flirting with every girl he passes would help you see he did have feelings for you. Maybe. You did like him, you were attracted to him, and he was sweet and funny, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to maybe do this with him. 

“O’ course. It will jus’ be you.” You give him a smile then, seeing his face light up with hope at the sight of it. “You’ll go with me?” 

“I mean,” You shrug. “You seem pretty sincere so I’ll give you a chance. I’m not promising anything serious but we’ll see how it goes.” He grins then, that adorable boyish grin that actually made a flutter happen in your chest. 

“So how abou’ dinner tonigh’ instead?” He questions, it turning to a slight smirk but you laugh and shake your head as you stand from your chair. 

“We’ll start with lunch, don’t push it.” You tell him but offer him a smile. “And then we’ll see about dinner.”

“I’ll take wha’ I can ge’.” You give him a small smile, shaking your head. What had you just gotten yourself into? Whatever it was, you were excited for it. You smack him playfully on the chest before you turn and walk away, turning back to shoot him one last grin, seeing him still smiling widely. 

Many girls had gotten lunch with Harry, but this was more than that, you felt. This was somewhat of an actual date, Harry had feelings for you. And the idea made butterflies flutter in your stomach. 

olicityslowburn  asked:

"you love me until you don't" olicity prompt. Please and thank you

(Thanks for the prompt!) Getting this out before heading home. Got a little away from me, since it is at a little over 1k.  Hope you like it!

That Look

The rain battered her skin, her clothes, soaking everything around her. Her glasses were discarded in her bag, somewhere in there, deep in the dark.

Right where she was. In the darkness, with only the numbing cold as company.

She walked because her legs propelled her forward much like a wind-up doll with just a few more clicks before the inevitable inertia took over.

Idiot, she swore to herself. Idiot for thinking, for trying to push. Idiot for going and then searching for it in someone else.

Last year, that look rocked her very foundation. Everything she thought she knew about their relationship, all the assumptions, and their places in the other’s life, all went to shit.

That look, his eyes soft and vulnerable, his face gentle and warm. That look that she saw him give at times to others, but never to her and then there was he was, giving it and everything tilted sideways.

For a while it is was fine. For a while, she understood. He meant it. But things were complicated. Things were always complicated, but she understood.

He wasn’t ready. They weren’t ready, and sadly she didn’t know if they ever would be. But then he asked her out and she said yes. For one glorious moment it felt possible. That look and all is potential futures. She saw lives drawn out in rich tapestries full of love and lust and longing. She saw laughter and joy and sorrow. And she had been ready. Ready.

Then it all went to hell and he walked away and because she knew what it meant, knew what it cost him, she let him, because in the end, she needed him in her life more than being with him. It cut her. Severed something deep and she bleed.

But to him, she smiled and laughed and kept up. She didn’t waver. Didn’t skim. And after she dated and searched for that look from another, he did not change. She tired, she really did, but it wasn’t any use.

He ruined her. She couldn’t accept it from another man and now here she was walking in the rain, miserable waiting for the rest of her life to stretch before her: Having him within arm’s reach but as far away as the moon.

Felicity tilted her head back and closed her eyes, letting the drops cry for her. The water streamed down her face.

Then,

They didn’t.

Blinking she opened her eyes and saw Oliver standing next to her, an umbrella covering them both. Anger, concern, regret all colored his expression. “What are you doing out here, you are going to catch a cold.” He scolded and grabbed her elbow as if to move her towards her townhouse.

Part of her wanted to ask him why he was here, but most of her knew the answer-he was always here. Always on the fringes, but never in the middle. Always outside looking in.

She didn’t budge and instead, pulled her arm out. Exhausted wore her out and this dance they had been doing for the last year had reached its end. She couldn’t anymore. Couldn’t bother to hide behind unspoken truths, and longing glances.

So tired, so very tired of being alone in the rain.

Wearily she said, “I broke up with Ray.” The words didn’t hurt to say, not really. But she wanted to swallow them back into her mouth at the triumphant look in his gaze.

“Don’t.” She said. Her voice thick.

Surprised tensed his shoulders, “What?”

She tilted her head at him and said, “Don’t look like you won something or be happy about it, Oliver.”

He gapped, and she saw him struggling to find words to reply.

She walked away from him then, and headed towards her door, but she could hear him behind her.

“Felicity.”

She gripped her railing, the drops still kissed her. She whirled on him, watching on his face was shadowed by the umbrella. Seeing him there, the paradox of his both identities occupying the same space and she let out a bitter laugh, because even though she loved him. Love both of him, all of him. He still couldn’t see it.

“What.” She said, her throat raw. He walked up the steps, staying on the two below her so the umbrella covered them both and his face was level with hers.

“I am sorry. I just want you happy.”

She couldn’t help it. She laughed. It was a bitter, hopeless thing. Oliver’s face darken when it emerged and again Felicity just wanted to go inside and forget. Forget this ever happened.

Except Oliver didn’t know when to quit.

“Felicity, I am sorry-”

At those words, something snapped. She leaned in and in a furious whisper said to him, “No you aren’t. You have been waiting for weeks for us to break up. You have been sweet and nice and trying so very hard, but I could tell. I could tell you couldn’t stand it. I could feel you looking at me. I could hear it in your voice. You don’t want me to be with anyone by you are too scared to be with me yourself.”

There. She said it. She panted. The patter of the rain on the taunt nylon the only sound outside of their ragged breaths. Oliver’s eyes blazed and he leaned into her, their faces only a inch part.

“You know why we can’t-”

“No, I know why you think we can be together. You don’t want me. Fine. But decided Oliver, because you love me until you don’t and I can’t live like this anymore.”

Pain and anger pooled in his face and she could see him struggling with himself. Her need to sooth. To ease his suffering. She sighed, feeling her own anger dimmed and she reached out to him and took his face into her hands. At the touch of her cold fingers on his skin, started them both. Her eyes widen, so did his. Her fingertips tingled.

They were at a precipice. Hovering between a before and after. Felicity took a breath and leaned in, pressing her lips to his forehead. His skin felt feverish underneath her kiss.

For a moment nothing happened.

Then the cocoon of the umbrella evaporated as he threw it to the ground and gathered her into his arms into a searing kiss.

She didn’t feel cold anymore.