the way harvey just unwinds the second he’s in your arms, the weight of the day slipping off his shoulders because you’re there. he doesn’t even have to say anything—he just melts, letting you kiss away the tension like it’s the most natural thing in the world. and that little sigh he lets out when you kiss his forehead?? pure allegiance and devotion!!!!!! he’s so in love with you it’s ridiculous. 🥲
he doesn’t need to be harvey specter, top closer, when he’s home—he just needs to be yours. and you take such good care of him, like it’s second nature, like loving him is the easiest thing you’ve ever done. (because it is..)
also the way he gets just a little needy at the end?? “only if you stay right here” HELLO?? he’s so used to the chaos of his work, the pressure, the endless expectations, but you? you’re his peace. and he never wants to be without that. without you.
the moment you hear the front door shut, you know.
it’s not a slam, not careless, just heavy. exhausted. like the weight of the world is in his briefcase, on his shoulders, in every step he takes through the penthouse.
you close the book you weren’t really reading, stretching as you get up from the couch. by the time you reach the entryway, he’s already shrugging off his suit jacket, movements slow and tired. he barely even looks up as he drapes it over the back of a chair, fingers reaching for his tie like even loosening it is too much effort.
“harvey,” you say, soft, careful.
he sighs, finally lifting his head. the moment he sees you, something in him shifts—just slightly. like the first hint of relief after a long day. but there’s still tension in the set of his shoulders, in the crease between his brows.
“rough day?” you ask, already knowing the answer.
he huffs a quiet laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “you could say that.”
you step closer, gently pushing his hands away from his tie and undoing it yourself. he lets you, his hands dropping to your waist instead, thumbs brushing absentminded circles against your hips.
“wanna talk about it?” you murmur, carefully undoing the knot and slipping the silk from his collar.
he shakes his head. “not right now.”
“okay,” you say, running your fingers over the first few buttons of his dress shirt, undoing them without a second thought. “what do you need, then? shower? drink? food?”
he exhales slowly, eyes closing for a moment as he leans into your touch. “just you.”
your chest tightens. you nod, taking his hand and leading him to the couch. the moment he sits, he sighs, leaning back like even holding himself upright took more effort than he had left.
without a word, you settle beside him, pulling him into you. he doesn’t resist. he never does. he shifts, head resting against your chest, arms slipping around your waist like he’s anchoring himself to you.
for a while, he just breathes. doesn’t say anything. doesn’t move.
you run your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp lightly, feeling the tension start to ease from his body. he exhales, a slow, deep breath, pressing his forehead against your collarbone.
“you wanna hear something stupid?” he murmurs after a while, voice rough with exhaustion.
“always.”
he lets out another small huff of laughter, this one a little softer, a little lighter. “whole day, all i could think about was getting home to you.”
your heart clenches, warmth blooming in your chest. you press a kiss to his hair, lingering there for a moment.
“that’s not stupid, harvey.”
“feels like it is.”
“feels like love,” you correct gently.
he doesn’t argue. doesn’t tease. just tightens his hold on you, presses his face further into your neck, and sighs, the tension finally melting away.
you press a soft kiss to his temple, feeling the way his body slowly relaxes against yours. his grip on your waist loosens just enough to show he’s not holding himself together anymore—he doesn’t need to. not with you.
you smile a little, shifting so you can kiss his forehead next, lingering there for a moment. his skin is warm, and he hums softly, barely audible, like he’s savoring the moment.
“that feels nice,” he murmurs, voice quieter now, softer.
“yeah?” you ask, brushing your lips over the crease between his brows, trying to smooth out the tension with every little kiss.
he nods, eyes still closed, the last bit of stress in his features fading as you work your way down. a kiss to each cheek. to the tip of his nose. to the sharp line of his jaw.
when you kiss the corner of his mouth, you feel the faintest hint of a smile forming against your lips.
“i could get used to this,” he mutters, voice rough with exhaustion but laced with something else, something lighter.
“you already do,” you tease, brushing your nose against his before pressing another slow kiss to his lips.
he sighs into it, his grip on your waist tightening again, but this time, it’s not stress holding him together—it’s you.
“you take such good care of me,” he murmurs when you pull away just enough to look at him, your fingers still carding through his hair.
you press your forehead against his, letting your fingers trace lazy patterns over his shoulders. “somebody has to.”
he chuckles, but it’s soft, sleepy. “lucky me.”
you smile, kissing him again, slower this time, deeper. he lets you, lets himself melt into you completely, no walls, no defenses, just you and him in the quiet of your home.
and when you finally pull back, his eyes are half-lidded, heavy with exhaustion but so, so full of love.
“get some sleep, harvey,” you whisper, running your fingers through his hair one last time.
he exhales, a slow, content breath. “only if you stay right here.”
“always,” you promise.
and with one last kiss, he closes his eyes, finally letting go, finally letting himself rest.
you're not turning your fandom hobby into a job are you? giving yourself deadlines and quotas that you have to meet? focusing on the numbers instead of your enjoyment of the act of creation?
you're not taking your love of something and using it as a tool to hurt yourself are you? loving it so hard that you forget to take care of yourself? telling yourself that people only care about you because of what you make and that they'll stop if you take a break? pushing yourself to work instead of rest so that the thing that used to give you joy and energy is now also burning you out, like everything else?
—a/n: this is part 1. i am slowly testing out the idea since i am getting back into writing. you're free to tell me your thoughts on this in the reblogs or comments and if you want me go through and write part 2 smut.
dad's bestfriend satoru who is hitting on you in such a subtle manner that it goes unnoticed by your family. they have so much faith in him since he's now a family friend. you've been away for college and only managed to show up on special family dinners so you didn't know he became so involved and special while you were gone.
you didn't miss the soft yet flirtatious gaze he gave you in between conversations at the dinner table. the spoon dangling between his lips for a few seconds more than they were supposed too. his finger swiping against the cream on top of the tiramisu and his tongue darting out to clean it off. it made you mouth dry even when you were sipping on the wine the whole time.
you didn't miss the "accidental" nudge of his shoulder against yours as you both bumped into each other on the way to the washroom. or when his pinky brushed against yours to steal away your embarrassing polaroids from college to see which were only reserved for your parents.
it was infuriating. hot, but infuriating. because how come no one else was seeing this? it was painfully obvious. your dad, kento, should've punched him by now. but he didn't because obviously, satoru was just being nice. so you decided on taking the matter in your own hands.
"i am gonna need you to stop," your voice stern as you confronted him. you had pulled him upstairs in the corner to avoid the embarrassment in front of everyone just in case you were wrong.
"stop what?" he looked genuinely confused but you were sure, just for a second, you saw an evil grin plastering his face.
"with all that "i want to fuck you" eyes you've been giving me the whole evening." you wait for his reply. one second passed. three seconds passed. ten seconds passed. none. there's nothing but a dark expression on his face that you don't know it roots from where. and before you could, he moves towards you forcing you to pace backwards.
step.
step.
step.
ste—shit. your back hits the wall. his hand slowly climbs up, and you gulp. you have no idea what's going to happen next but that's what is pooling your panties more. he ghosts his knuckles against collarbone, never contacting the skin but it still doesn't fail to make a shiver run down your spine. you almost beg him to touch you until he speaks.
"and what makes you think i want to fuck you, sweetheart?" he asks. his voice dark and thick. which makes you question every single moral, every single boundary of yours. you want to answer but you can't. all the words are choked up in your throat, refusing to come out. you look at him with doe eyes, that makes his dick tent against his pant. you're about to do something questionable—
"gojo-san," but the voice of your mother calling out for him from downstairs startles you. gojo sighs, almost in regret.
"go to you room," he checks around to see if anyone caught you two.
"but—"
"y/n, go to your room and lock. the. damn. door. understood?" he orders and there is no way you cam refuse him.
but why did he tell you to lock the door? more importantly, why is it making you want to keep it unlocked even more?
Description: You have a boyfriend, and the entire firm is trying to figure out who he is. One thing is for sure though: Mike Ross is good at hiding secrets from everyone except Rachel Zane.
Part two of slowburn, but can be read as a standalone.
Pairing: harvey specter/reader
Warning: slightly oc harvey because trust me, he wouldn't date anyone during this era.
It was Monday morning when a bouquet of flowers was spotted on top of your office desk. Correction, you could barely see your office desk because all the interns and associates were gathered around your office like they were gawking at an animal inside a zoo enclosure. "What are all of you doing here?" You raised an eyebrow.
You suppose that some of the interns don't get paid - but the associates most definitely are - and they shouldn't be doing this during office hours. "Someone sent you some flowers," Phoebe points out as she shoved her way through the crowd.
The associates and interns alike opted to stare at the floor, prepared to hear you reprimand them (and in your defense, you don't reprimand them at all, but the circumstances were different this time), but you hold your tongue. A sigh escapes your mouth - typical Harvey, always showing off - you think to yourself while feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.
"Get back to work!" You ordered as the crowd dispersed, as if they weren't even there in the first place.
Everyone returned to their proper workstations, everyone except Phoebe who was quite adamant in following you inside of your office.
She tilts her head slightly.
"Aren't you going to tell me who sent you those flowers?" She asks. Your eyebrows merged. "My boyfriend, who else?" You answered plainly - a teasing smirk plastered on your lips as you settled on the desk. Donna has certainly been rubbing off Phoebe with her (caring) nosy abilities. It unnerves you how much those two know about the people in this office - they know eveything! Even what Jessica eats for breakfast (hyperbole).
You tapped your fingers impatiently on the desk, reaching for Harvey's small but toe-curlingly sweet note.
Happy Monday, my little duckling. I hope that this day treats you well
- H. Reginald ;)
On your second date, you fell into a koi pond, and a few ducklings gathered around your body as if you were their mother, or part of their family, which is why Harvey has given you that nickname. The story sounds embarrassing, but that's the crazy thing about love: you can do the most embarrassing things, and they'd still be in love with you.
"What's it say?" Phoebe sits on the chair parallel to you, a bundle of files clutched near her chest, and you know that she only brought those files so she could have a reason to march inside of your office. A genuine smile ghosts your lips. She's already being such a good lawyer by asking you all these questions - it's obvious that she wants to know everything. And you will reiterate, she knows everything. Everything except who you're dating...
"Nothing to you," you placed the note inside of your pocket.
A whine escapes her mouth as she settles the files on your desk. There are at least twenty files already beginning to pile on your desk, and it's only Monday morning! Being a lawyer is such a boring job. "When are you going to tell me the name of your lover?" She emphasizes the word lover, knowing how much you hated that word.
"The day that you stop being so damn nosy," you rolled your eyes, a mischievous plan beginning to form in your mind. Phoebe and Donna always know the juicy workplace gossip, and they refuse to share it with you! Them not knowing the identity of your boyfriend makes your stomach giddy with mischievousness. This is basically their payback for not telling you about that thing with Harold Brink.
"I'm not nosy. I'm just curious and you told me that curiosity is the weapon of a good lawyer." She used your quote against you.
"A good lawyer also knows when to stop asking questions, so get the hell out of my office and get back to work!" You used your boyfriend's favorite catchphrase against her, a teasing smile still plastered on your lips as you hoped she wouldn't recognize your tone.
A few words of complaint exit her mouth, but she goes back to work nonetheless. Sorry Phoebe, let me have my fun, you'll find out soon enough anyway...
It was during lunchtime in the partner's lounge that you were able to meet your boyfriend. He was eating his favorite salad when you walked in with your warm moussaka, courtesy of Phoebe, who gave it to you in the hopes that you'd tell her who your boyfriend is.
"I thought your lunch break was at 12?" He pulled the empty chair beside him, leaving you ample space to sit down and open the metal lunchbox. "I eat my lunch when I want to eat my lunch," you answered with an eyeroll. "Whatever you say," he chuckles while reaching for his lunchbox to bring out a box of Chuckie, your favorite chocolate milk from the Asian supermarket.
Chuckie is perhaps mankind's greatest creation besides Milo.
"I saw your fridge filled with this, so I brought one for you," he whispered, and you gave him an appreciative smile. "Thank you!" You pressed a kiss to his lips. You've never seen Harvey act this way before - he always keeps his feelings hidden in his chest. He's an action guy more than a words guy, but you can see that he's trying to be both for you, and the thought of that warms your heart.
"Don't worry, I got it from your fridge." He says, and a gasp escapes your mouth. You hit his forearm lightly, and he releases a chuckle.
"I'm joking," he raises his hands in mock surrender. "I'd never steal anything from you." He emphasizes the word 'steal', which makes you frown because he has already stolen your heart (cheesy).
"Oh, by the way, thank you for the flowers. Phoebe has been asking me about you the entire day, but she doesn't actually know it's you." You giggled while taking a bite of your moussaka. "Donna has also been bugging me about your boyfriend, and I told her that I didn't know and didn't care if you were dating anyone." he informs.
Your eyes having a conversation of its own.
"It's so annoying how they know everything," you groaned endearingly. "So we have the same idea then?" He asks, aware that your minds work in the same way. It is part of the reason why he loves you with all of your heart - you are his intellectual equal. He likes the way that you are whole even without him, and you like him for that same reason, too. He doesn't make you perfect because you are already perfect. He just makes you feel more and vice versa.
"Try and drag this thing on because it is quite scary how much they already know about us then tell them who we're dating when the time is right?" You inquired, checking to see if he had the same idea.
"Exactly," He confirmed.
"Cool," you smiled.
"Cool," he repeated your phrase while taking a sip of your chocolate milk.
Wednesday noon.
You leaned on your office chair, popping your headphones on as you continued watching your third episode of the day. Normally, your weeks are filled with cramming and stress, but miraculously, there is nothing to do today. Well, maybe your motivation (Harvey) just makes you work a tad bit faster than before.
You lowered the brightness of your laptop.
If Jessica finds out how fast you finish these cases, she'd be very mad and impressed, but the thing is...she doesn't have to know.
You pretended to type away on your laptop, but truly, you're watching a Turkish drama that Harvey's sister-in-law recommended. You were about to reach the scene where Serkan Bolat finds out about his secret daughter, but your MS Teams begins ringing loudly, almost rendering you deaf because hello, you're wearing headphones.
Harvey Reginald Specter is calling you...
DONNA PAULSEN
"Hey, baby."
Donna hears a female voice from the other side of the intercom, specifically, Harvey's intercom. Her ears almost pulsed at the sound of a strangely familliar voice from the other side of the line, but the voice fades in the background when Harvey switches his intercom off. Donna's head went careening, her office chair spinning around so that she'd be facing Harvey's office.
She almost feels proud of him for going on a date after so long, but knowing him, he's not the type of person to commit, and knowing him, the only person he's ever been fond of is you, although he doesn't really say it out loud. To that thought, Donna's heart sinks to her stomach - right you had a boyfriend and Harvey has a fling.
At least both of you aren't married yet.
You still have time to date each other.
Donna's eyes narrowed, trying to read his lips, but Harvey, being clever and private, turned his office chair around so that he'd be staring at New York's skyline. His back was entirely facing Donna. She couldn't even see his face through the window's reflection.
Damn!
But thankfully, just as Donna was about to give up, Phoebe (her best friend in the whole wide world alongside Rachel) was strolling by. "Pst, Phebes!" Donna called out to her in a half-whisper, and the associate turned to look in her direction. "What?" She asked.
"I just heard Harvey talk to a woman on the phone. He even turned off his intercom, he never turns his intercom off! It must be serious." Donna added a personal opinion to the story that she was telling. A gasp escapes Phoebe's mouth. "Could it be (Your Name)?" Donna inquires - able to remember that you were also dating someone whom Phoebe speculates also works in the firm.
"Nope, she was on her laptop the last time I saw her, and her phone's literally charging in my cubicle." Phoebe shot the question down quick. "Damn, love is in the air in this office I guess." Donna thought to herself, and a giggle escaped the associate's lips.
"All this love and no boyfriends for us," the associate complained.
"I know, right?" Donna continued watching Harvey's figure.
"So, are you going to try and figure out who Harvey's dating?" Phoebe inquires, always the one to try and piece two and two together. Donna reminds herself that the associate worked as a detective for two years before going to law school.
Donna shakes her head. She knows her best friend like the back of her own hand. "I know how Harvey gets when it comes to his lovelife. If she's important, we'll know - if she's not, she'll be gone." Donna sighs, and Phoebe nods her head.
"I guess, plus, I feel like he'd get mad at us for trying to pry into his personal life like that..." She agrees.
"You're doing the same thing to (Your Name), for your information." Donna teases. "If she doesn't like me trying to know, she'll tell me, but I have a feeling that she's only hiding her boyfriend because she likes annoying me," Phoebe mumbles.
"Yeah, you do look a little cute when you're annoyed." Donna chuckled. "Whatever, Donna." Phoebe rolled her eyes.
MIKE ROSS
"I already prepared the restaurant you're going to, the flowers are ready, yes, I also booked a private room because I know how busy and loud La J'amie gets during Sundays." Mike Ross opened his mouth to speak, partly annoyed and confused as to why Harvey was treating him like he was his personal assistant.
"Good," Harvey replied while highlighting the mistakes in the contract that Mike Ross drafted. "Why are you making me do this, anyway? You have Donna," Mike pointed out.
Harvey's eyebrows merged together, personally offended. "Why am I making you do this? Because I'm the reason you work in this office?" Harvey rolled his eyes while handing the contract draft back to the associate. "Right," Mike stared off to the side.
He's thankful to Harvey for giving him this job, but sometimes he just wants to leave - because he knows that this isn't his place. He loves being a lawyer and all, but it feels wrong practicing when he doesn't have a law degree - when he has cheated his way through everything that he's pretending to have now.
But that's a problem for another day.
"When are you going to tell them that you're with each other?" Mike asks in a rather pressing tone because Rachel has been suspicious of him - mostly because he spends a lot of time outside and he no longer has free time to go on dates with her - because Harvey is making him plan everything that he's doing with you and it's horrible because Mike doesn't even have the reigns to anything. Harvey micromanages him with this date-related nonsense. Harvey doesn't even care about half of the work that Mike does in the lawfirm!
"That's for me to know and for you to find out, now get the hell out of my office and get back to work." Harvey commanded.
There were a million things that Harvey Specter loved about you, but what he loved the most was your ability to persuade and tell a story. You had a silver tongue, and you were an expert raconteur. Whereas he relied on his charm and his ability to see through everything, this union of yours proved to be divine as you covered his blind spots and he covered yours.
In the courtroom, both of you were formidable lawyers (which, you admit, sounds a bit like liars, but you've never lied, only partly obscured the truth). "You know, the funny thing is, I hate mergers and acquisitions." You confessed while tracing the imaginary lines of his chest. "That used to be your field," he scoffed.
Yep, because it's the field that brings in the most clients!
"I know, and it's so repetitive. If I were able to choose my specialty again, I'd go to family law." You mumbled, eyelids fluttering as you fought against your inevitable drowsiness. His hands slither down to your waist, pulling you closer and lifting the covers over your shoulder. "Please, you'd be too stressed there, all your hair would fall out." He mumbled while pressing a kiss to your temple.
"It's the most interesting specialty, please. You know how Anna Karenina said; All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." You remembered the quote from the time that your high school teacher forced you to read the book.
Harvey is silent for a second, perhaps, relating to the quote.
"Harvey?" You raised an eyebrow, suddenly remembering the story about his family. "When we have a family, if you want to have one, let's try to make everyone happy." He asks, as you burrowed deeper into the crook of his neck. "We'll have a happy family, Harvey. I promise," you gave him a smile.
"Good," he nods his head.
Perfect.
RACHEL ZANE
Rachel Zane's eyebrows merged together.
"It's a Saturday and you're going somewhere?" She inquired, watching as Mike hurried to wear his clothes.
"I'm sorry, it's Harvey." He reasoned, his voice apologetic.
"What is he making you do now?" She interrogated, a hand on her waist as she stared up at him. "Classified client interviews," Mike pressed a kiss to her forehead. She wants to believe him - Mike is not the type of person who lies just to get what he wants, but she's been cheated on before - she's been someone's mistress before.
All liars think everyone lies.
She feels guilt bubble in the bottom of her stomach. "I'll see you on Monday, then." She mumbles underneath her breath, watching as unease floods Mike's features. "I love you, okay." Mike repeats.
"I love you, too, Mike." She replies.
.
.
.
Rachel was about to put Mike's coat in the laundry, but her hands brushed past a few papers inside his coat pockets. She pulls each paper out, thankful that she thought to check his pockets before throwing them in the wash - these could be important - she thinks to herself as her hands danced over a thicker piece of parchment.
Reservation in La J'amie for two. Sunday 7:00pm. Private room.
"Private room?" Her eyebrows merged, her mouth suddenly feeling dry. Her previous thoughts echoed in her head. All liars think everyone lies. All cheaters think that everyone cheats.
Is Mike cheating on her?
She knows that she deserves it - she deserves losing this perfect dorky and nerd guy because she isn't entirely a perfect person. But, she promised to change a long time ago - and she has changed. She knows that karma doesn't care, though, but she hoped that karma would gloss over this man because she really, really loves him.
She loves Mike with all of her heart, without any doubts, and without asking for anything else in return. Rachel sank to the floor, her eyes trailing back and forth as she contemplated her next actions.
.
.
.
Thankfully, Phoebe was free - Donna was on a date.
"When you catch them together, we have to beat Mike up. Of course, we have to ask the girl if she knows, and if she does, I will drag her off the pavement!" Phoebe rambled with anger pulsing through her veins as if she were the one cheated on. "I'll assault them. I'll make sure their parents won't be able to recognize them -"
Phoebe's words are interrupted when they see a familiar car pull up the restaurant's driveway. Harvey Specter's car. A 1961 Black Jaguar E-Type - Rachel remembers from Mike's drunkish ramblings (mostly complaining about his boss).
He sees Harvey Specter step out of the vehicle, walking around the busy streets to open the left-side door - revealing you.
"Oh my god, they're dating each other," Phoebe mumbles out loud as Rachel pulls her towards a pole that is big enough to obscure their slender bodies. It isn't lost on the girls - the way that Harvey's hand curled around the small of your waist while guiding you inside the restaurant, there were basically hearts in both of your eyes, drunk at the sight of each other that you were unable to notice Phoebe (who was wearing a neon magenta coat) and Rachel.
"So, Mike isn't cheating on me. Harvey's just making him do restaurant reservations because he doesn't want you and Donna to know." Rachel says to herself. She's smart - very smart.
Phoebe releases a deep breath - good - because she wasn't exactly sure that she'd be able to drag Mike and his alleged mistress through the crowded streets of New York City. "You know that there's only one way to find out, right?" Phoebe raises an eyebrow while dragging Rachel inside of the restaurant.
Phoebe marches in the direction of the receptionist with a cadence that only a woman who could afford to eat there could. "Good evening, ma'am, may I take your name?" The receptionist looked around nervously; he was obviously new here.
"Ross. I have a reservation in the private room." Phobe announces with her chin held up high. Rachel is almost thankful that the other woman decided to wear a neon magenta coat for only someone rich could have the courage of wearing something as ugly as that.
"Sorry, ma'am. We don't have a reservation under the name Ross. We have one under the name Specter, though." The receptionist says with a forced smile. Rachel and Phoebe exchange a knowing look.
Rachel relaxes.
"I think that was in another restaurant, Phebes." Rachel suddenly blurts out, a wave of relief washing over her features and soul. "Oh, right, apologies for that, darling." Phoebe smiles while turning around to leave. The moment that both of the women stepped outside the restaurant, a happy shriek escaped Phoebe's lips.
"Oh my fucking god," she cheered. Happy to finally know the identity of your boyfriend - there was only one thing in Phoebe's mind, 'I told you so', that was the first thing she was going to tell Donna. Rachel forces a smile on her lips - her personal issues with infidelity were a conversation for another day. Today, she's going to be happy for you.
You tilted your head slightly, seeing a familiar magenta coat from your periphery. "Phoebe and Rachel are here." You pointed out, and Harvey twists his neck his eyes meeting those of Rachel and he gives a nod of confirmation.
You share a smile with your boyfriend and he presses a kiss to the back of your hand. "One thing is for sure, they know." You hummed.
"We'll deal with them tomorrow," he chuckled amusedly.
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