fill: Getting the Advantage
Oh gods, what have I done ? Haha. Sorry if it's not quite what you wanted, OP. It's just a little, little fill. But I hope you like it.
This was in response to a prompt (linked above) for fem!Suits, in which fem!Harvey is Hayley, and fem!Mike is Michele. What have I done.
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“Just nod your head and look pretty.”
It wan’t supposed to be hard thing to do, and, really, it wasn’t. She could nod her head, she could look pretty. But it was much harder to do both of those things and keep a straight face while there was a hand creeping up her leg, completely unwelcome. Michele was trying her hardest not to make a face; Hayley had told her that as long as she kept still and silent, everything would go off without a hitch. Had she been expected the hand on her leg? Hayley herself would probably use it to her advantage, even. She was just that suave and smooth.
Pun not intended.
The hand was steadily creeping up her thigh, closer now to her mid-thigh, and she was sure if it were to continue, it would move up towards her skirt, slowly under, to the point where her leg met her hip, and then into-- she forced herself not to shiver, for the shiver would probably just entice the hand further. She didn’t like where this was going. At all.
Her eyes flitted to Hayley with what she hoped was a look of oh-sweet-baby-Jesus-Hayley-you-better-help-me, but Hayley just glanced to her with a single eyebrow raised, apparently only half-listening to the conference with her arms crossed over her breasts. Michele tried to nod inconspicuously towards her thigh and it seemed to work, because then her eyes flitted next to the hand’s owner, one mister Matthew McIntyre. What an alliterative name. Then Hayley’s eyes were back on her, and she sighed quietly in her direction before sitting up straighter in her seat, her gaze back up front.
For a second panic flit through Michele - had Hayley misunderstood her? Couldn’t she tell that she was being harassed?
Then Hayley’s mouth was opening, and she was saying something about a ten minute break, and Michele couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
She rushed into the bathroom to lean against the sink, turning the water on to cold, cupping her hands under the faucet to catch the water before splashing it onto her face. The water streamed down her face and back into the marble sinks, and she stared at her reflection in their mirror. If only she were Hayley, with her long, curly, deep dirty blonde hair that spiraled down to her shoulders in nearly too-elegant curls, and her nearly-overwhelming confidence in herself that means she could charm her way into anything with just a little smirk and a flick of her hair over her shoulder. If there had been a hand on her thigh, she would have used to it to her advantage. That’s what Hayley would want her to do, right? Use it to her own advantage? Because she would. And Hayley had said that she was an extension of her, so maybe she should--
Suddenly, a hand grabbed her ass and she jumped forward and nearly into the mirror, spinning around to find Hayley behind her, who only smirked out a soft, “Well, you sure are jumpy,” as Michele’s hand flew over her own heart, clutching at the lapels of her suit jacket.
She sighed out a soft relief, but then gave her an accusing look. “You scared me, Hayley!” She paused a moment, throwing the dirty blonde a confused look. “And why did you just grab my ass?”
“Because you have a nice one,” Hayley shrugged, pushing her hands into her pockets and tilting her head at her with a smirk before she half-turned. “I’d be jealous if mine wasn’t better,” she said, obviously inspecting herself over her own shoulder.
“Can I claim sexual harassment for that?” Michele asked, although she would never do that. She loved Hayley’s comments too much to do that.
“You wound me,” Hayley gave, acting hurt but smirking before she straightened up again, stepping right up into Michele’s space, so there were just inches between them. “Besides, you love it,” she said, her words soft breaths right against Michele’s lips.
“You’re an ass,” Michele spat, spinning around in Hayley’s arms so her back was to her, her hands having bracketed her hips against the counter. She made a face at Hayley’s reflection in the mirror, sticking her tongue out at her. Hayley just gave a soft sigh of “yes, but you love me,” against her neck, pressing light kisses there until Michele’s arms uncrossed themselves from her chest, Hayley’s hands on her hips. And Hayley was right. Hayley was always right, it seemed,
But then Hayley pulled back slightly, looking at Michele while she continued to look into the mirror, her lips just a frown instead of a little light smile that their back-and-forth banter usually caused. “What’s wrong?”
Michele licked her lips before speaking, shifting from foot to foot nervously, “His hand was on my thigh.”
Hayley raised an eyebrow at her in the mirror, resting her chin on her shoulder, a light smirk on her face. “Why don’t you use it to your advantage?”
“That’s so... you,” Michele commented, giving a light laugh. Hayley’s arms were crossing themselves almost possessively around her waist, her back against Hayley’s chest, tucked tight together, and her arms wound themselves over Hayley’s at her waist. Michele didn’t want to continue on talking about it though, so she rested her head against Hayley’s, whose eyebrows went together in the mirror in a furrow.
Suddenly, Hayley’s arms were slipping from around her waist, and before she could realize, Hayley was out the door. Michele quickly turned to follow after her, the door to the women’s restroom swinging shut after them. “Hayley!” She called, in a light jog to catch up to her. “What are you doing?”
But Hayley was ignoring her calls, and she pushed into the conference room, turning her eyes to their client, a fierceness evident in her gaze even though Michele was just looking at her sidelong. “I think we’re done here, mister McIntyre,” she said, nodding her thanks with a stern expression before she turned. “Good day,” she gave, and immediately turned back out of the conference room, leaving Michele in the doorway, starstruck.
“Hayley,” she called again, reaching around to grab her arm, swinging her to face her. She could easily see that Hayley was angry, maybe even infuriated, but she was hiding it fairly well, and if Michele hadn’t known better, she would have said she cared. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did,” Hayley gave back, enunciating each word with a look of don’t-even-begin-to-think-that-I-care-about-you etched across her face. “He wasn’t going to be a very good business manager anyway, and you could tell that from the way he was presenting his portfolio. His business would have failed, and he would have blamed us - we would have ended up losing money for this,” she said, flipping her hair over her should in a stubborn front. Michele just smiled at her. She was about to explain her smirk when Hayley tossed her that what-are-you-smiling-like-that-for look, but then Hayley shook her head and tangled their hands together. “No, never mind,” she said, her eyes down for a long moment before she met Michele’s. “Just go home and get some sleep, and I’ll catch up to you later,” she said, giving her hand a squeeze before letting go and turning away, moving on down the hall towards her office, and Michele just watched her go.
And she was right. She did have a nice ass.
This was in response to a prompt (linked above) for fem!Suits, in which fem!Harvey is Hayley, and fem!Mike is Michele. What have I done.
+
“Just nod your head and look pretty.”
It wan’t supposed to be hard thing to do, and, really, it wasn’t. She could nod her head, she could look pretty. But it was much harder to do both of those things and keep a straight face while there was a hand creeping up her leg, completely unwelcome. Michele was trying her hardest not to make a face; Hayley had told her that as long as she kept still and silent, everything would go off without a hitch. Had she been expected the hand on her leg? Hayley herself would probably use it to her advantage, even. She was just that suave and smooth.
Pun not intended.
The hand was steadily creeping up her thigh, closer now to her mid-thigh, and she was sure if it were to continue, it would move up towards her skirt, slowly under, to the point where her leg met her hip, and then into-- she forced herself not to shiver, for the shiver would probably just entice the hand further. She didn’t like where this was going. At all.
Her eyes flitted to Hayley with what she hoped was a look of oh-sweet-baby-Jesus-Hayley-you-better-help-me, but Hayley just glanced to her with a single eyebrow raised, apparently only half-listening to the conference with her arms crossed over her breasts. Michele tried to nod inconspicuously towards her thigh and it seemed to work, because then her eyes flitted next to the hand’s owner, one mister Matthew McIntyre. What an alliterative name. Then Hayley’s eyes were back on her, and she sighed quietly in her direction before sitting up straighter in her seat, her gaze back up front.
For a second panic flit through Michele - had Hayley misunderstood her? Couldn’t she tell that she was being harassed?
Then Hayley’s mouth was opening, and she was saying something about a ten minute break, and Michele couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
She rushed into the bathroom to lean against the sink, turning the water on to cold, cupping her hands under the faucet to catch the water before splashing it onto her face. The water streamed down her face and back into the marble sinks, and she stared at her reflection in their mirror. If only she were Hayley, with her long, curly, deep dirty blonde hair that spiraled down to her shoulders in nearly too-elegant curls, and her nearly-overwhelming confidence in herself that means she could charm her way into anything with just a little smirk and a flick of her hair over her shoulder. If there had been a hand on her thigh, she would have used to it to her advantage. That’s what Hayley would want her to do, right? Use it to her own advantage? Because she would. And Hayley had said that she was an extension of her, so maybe she should--
Suddenly, a hand grabbed her ass and she jumped forward and nearly into the mirror, spinning around to find Hayley behind her, who only smirked out a soft, “Well, you sure are jumpy,” as Michele’s hand flew over her own heart, clutching at the lapels of her suit jacket.
She sighed out a soft relief, but then gave her an accusing look. “You scared me, Hayley!” She paused a moment, throwing the dirty blonde a confused look. “And why did you just grab my ass?”
“Because you have a nice one,” Hayley shrugged, pushing her hands into her pockets and tilting her head at her with a smirk before she half-turned. “I’d be jealous if mine wasn’t better,” she said, obviously inspecting herself over her own shoulder.
“Can I claim sexual harassment for that?” Michele asked, although she would never do that. She loved Hayley’s comments too much to do that.
“You wound me,” Hayley gave, acting hurt but smirking before she straightened up again, stepping right up into Michele’s space, so there were just inches between them. “Besides, you love it,” she said, her words soft breaths right against Michele’s lips.
“You’re an ass,” Michele spat, spinning around in Hayley’s arms so her back was to her, her hands having bracketed her hips against the counter. She made a face at Hayley’s reflection in the mirror, sticking her tongue out at her. Hayley just gave a soft sigh of “yes, but you love me,” against her neck, pressing light kisses there until Michele’s arms uncrossed themselves from her chest, Hayley’s hands on her hips. And Hayley was right. Hayley was always right, it seemed,
But then Hayley pulled back slightly, looking at Michele while she continued to look into the mirror, her lips just a frown instead of a little light smile that their back-and-forth banter usually caused. “What’s wrong?”
Michele licked her lips before speaking, shifting from foot to foot nervously, “His hand was on my thigh.”
Hayley raised an eyebrow at her in the mirror, resting her chin on her shoulder, a light smirk on her face. “Why don’t you use it to your advantage?”
“That’s so... you,” Michele commented, giving a light laugh. Hayley’s arms were crossing themselves almost possessively around her waist, her back against Hayley’s chest, tucked tight together, and her arms wound themselves over Hayley’s at her waist. Michele didn’t want to continue on talking about it though, so she rested her head against Hayley’s, whose eyebrows went together in the mirror in a furrow.
Suddenly, Hayley’s arms were slipping from around her waist, and before she could realize, Hayley was out the door. Michele quickly turned to follow after her, the door to the women’s restroom swinging shut after them. “Hayley!” She called, in a light jog to catch up to her. “What are you doing?”
But Hayley was ignoring her calls, and she pushed into the conference room, turning her eyes to their client, a fierceness evident in her gaze even though Michele was just looking at her sidelong. “I think we’re done here, mister McIntyre,” she said, nodding her thanks with a stern expression before she turned. “Good day,” she gave, and immediately turned back out of the conference room, leaving Michele in the doorway, starstruck.
“Hayley,” she called again, reaching around to grab her arm, swinging her to face her. She could easily see that Hayley was angry, maybe even infuriated, but she was hiding it fairly well, and if Michele hadn’t known better, she would have said she cared. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did,” Hayley gave back, enunciating each word with a look of don’t-even-begin-to-think-that-I-care-about-you etched across her face. “He wasn’t going to be a very good business manager anyway, and you could tell that from the way he was presenting his portfolio. His business would have failed, and he would have blamed us - we would have ended up losing money for this,” she said, flipping her hair over her should in a stubborn front. Michele just smiled at her. She was about to explain her smirk when Hayley tossed her that what-are-you-smiling-like-that-for look, but then Hayley shook her head and tangled their hands together. “No, never mind,” she said, her eyes down for a long moment before she met Michele’s. “Just go home and get some sleep, and I’ll catch up to you later,” she said, giving her hand a squeeze before letting go and turning away, moving on down the hall towards her office, and Michele just watched her go.
And she was right. She did have a nice ass.