200 writing prompts // Henry Bowers x Reader
request: can u do a henry imagine with 73, 47, 162 and 194?
73. “Oh, are you ticklish?”
47. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”
A/N: thank you @sociopathicpiglet for the request ;) hope you enjoy this lil bit of fic! (based on the prompts found here)
The best times you’d have with Henry were when you were alone together. Strangely, they’d always be calmer times, without Henry trying to look cool for the guys or any parents keeping a constant eye on you. Laying on his bed one afternoon after school, you listened to his heartbeat, head laying on his chest as the two of you closed your eyes.
“Can’t fucking stand Mrs. Braxton." Henry murmured. You snorted.
“Just cuz you’re bad at anatomy doesn’t mean she’s a bad teacher.”
“Doesn’t mean she’s a good one, either.”
You lifted your head and looked at him with a narrowed-eye smile.
“That last test was so easy. All you had to do was label the stomach.”
“Yeah, fuck that. I’m best at the bones.”
“What, you didn’t know where the spleen was?” You joked, poking him where it was located. He immediately jumped, putting his hand where you’d poked.
“Fuck off.” He chuckled, and you gasped.
Henry shook his head, moving quickly away from you.
His words only enticed you, and you continued moving towards him as he continuously backed up until hitting the wall behind him.
“You’re cornered, Bowers.” You teased, and he put his hands up to stop you.
“This won’t end well for you.” He said, eyebrows raised. “Don’t fucking do it.“
Only a single moment passed before you tackled him, grabbing his sides and poking him repeatedly, forcing him into a fit of giggles he tried desperately to suppress, resulting in odd squeaks that made you laugh in turn.
The very second you let up, he flipped you onto your back and grabbed your wrists, securing them at the sides of your head. He sat on your legs, keeping you wholly immobilized.
“Knock it off.” He sternly warned, and you beamed up at him.
“You’re cute when you’re angry.”
That’s all you had to say to push him over the edge. Though you knew he was ticklish, he didn’t question whether you were or not - up until right then.
In a frenzy he began to tickle you back, and you were simply no match. You erupted into laughter, trying your hardest to fend him off but continually failing.
“Stop! Henry, fuck, stop, stop!” You laughed, tears forming in your eyes. He didn’t let up, but instead turned from angry to entirely amused.
“Mess with the bull, you get the horns.” He joked, squeezing your sides hard, fingers moving quickly from your stomach to your neck.
You could barely breathe. You finally managed to hold his hands back, and you looked up at him once more, this time with a pleading expression.
“Knock it off.” You wheezed. He grinned down at you.
Though the two of you weren’t completely matched in strength, you had all the tools necessary to overpower him.
“Okay.” You replied with a grin, grabbing the bottom of your shirt with crossed arms and pulling it over your head. Throwing it off the bed to the floor beside you, you could already see his expression shift from valiant to shaken.
You promptly leaned up and gently kissed his neck, forging a trail of kisses down his chest. Within seconds he pulled off his own shirt, his breathing slowing drastically. You leaned up and kissed his lips gently, with more and more force each time. Henry’s body relaxed against you.
As he turned into putty before your very eyes, you pushed him back onto the bed and crawled on top of him, smiling victoriously.
He rolled his eyes at you with a sleepy smile.
“You cheated.” He murmured.
