Faeee

Tiktok Account: ehh2804 ao3 pseuds: franaran

[igotnoplanstomorrownight]

bromance in this pride month huh

[56-miles-78]

nobody is talking about the potential dynamic between the random blonde guy and Mike from the pilot. I know he's named but I do nawt remember. There's no way they didn't hook up while high.

[milkooze-deactivated20260329]

[faeeeyay]

Genderbent!Mikeross will ALWAYS have my heart. I will make more fanarts of michelle if i have the time <33

SHES PRACTICING MAKEUP!!!! HOW. CUTEEE

[goingcrazyatolivegarden]

[faeeeyay]

When i see a drawing of mike ross and he’s a brunette is the day i finally rest. HES NOT BLONDE!!!!!!!!!!!

[rosspecter-mp4]

the closest we will ever get to a mike ross bondage moment, asterisk sighs wistfully asterisk

[faeeeyay]

Femme!mikeross as a farmgirl!!!!

[faeeeyay]

patrickjane!mikeross,, a pair ive made up and had always been obsessed with ngl. i have them married in my island if yall care lol (this was fun to draw) but yeah!!!

[svejednomije]

the original y/n and ceo

[faeeeyay]

spiderman!mike ross fanart!!!

I just read a fic on ao3 where he is spiderman and fuhh yk i had to draw him as one:]]

[faeeeyay]

eveeytime i write a fanfic of a ship i like i cant help but add characters from a differenr show. Like ill be making mike be friends with spencer reid in a fic im writing simply becoz they match each other. they’re both my favs!!!!!

[faeeeyay]

happy pride month evb!!!!!! my fav crackships fr

[faeeeyay]

i DONT care if this does not look anything like Mike Ross genderswapped. In my eyes he’s a brunette. Anyway heres my fanart of him genderbent, inspired by a fic i wrote when he woke up as a girl one day :)

[faeeeyay]

Meet my gorgeous oc🥹 his name is Elias,, !! Isnt he cute

[faeeeyay]

Marvey pinoy bball au🥹🤤🤤🤤

Englishera photojournalist Michael Rivera and Conyo rich kid Harvey Salvador

[faeeeyay]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/82265426

Summary:

Mike suddenly wakes up late one afternoon and soon finds out he had transformed into a woman. He calls Donna for help, then they go to a bar.

or:

Donna leaves Mike alone and sets Harvey up with “Michelle” so they can hook up.

words: 9,364

——————————-——————————————

Mike was jolted awake from the TV that was still on from last night, playing ‘Different Strokes’ in low volume. He straightened up in his bed and yawned, stretching and running a hand through his face. His rough palms were suddenly soft, but he paid no mind to it.

He brought his watch towards him and realized he woke up a bit later than usual, but it’s a Thursday so it should be fine, he thinks. The time read 3:05–shit! that’s waaaay too late.

He swung his legs off the bed and stood up, grabbing the clothes left on the floor last night then shoving it into a basket, his body feeling lighter than before, and thinner.

Mike’s place was messy, and it still reeked of weed from yesterday. There were still alcohol bottles laid down on the table across his sofa, some were spilled all over the cushions, an ash-tray, and a pizza box in the middle of it.

He grabbed the remote sitting against the arm-rest of the sofa, shutting the TV into a void.

Then he made his way inside the bathroom, almost completely ignoring the reflection of himself in the mirror, waiting for the water to heat up in the shower and began pulling away his shirt while walking up to the sink.

He finally looks up towards the mirror and flinched, taking a few steps back. His gaze were glued on to his reflection and down to his chest, then he slowly walked up to the mirror again.

The more he stared, the more flushed he become as heat rushed up to his cheeks. He’s not perverted right? Those can’t be his own. It can’t be his body either. Hell, he’s not even sure if he could count it as looking at himself.

In front of her stood a woman instead of the opposite gender he’s originally in. The girl looked like she had a blowout and hair that reached her lower back with a long torso, her skin beautifully pale as snow white.

Mike pinched the skin of her arm to see if he’s really dreaming. Turns out she isn’t. Fuck.

“Wow…” she mumbled under her breath, leaning forward to the sink. Mike brought her face closer to the mirror, spotting no signs of acne nor pimples at all, blinking a few times so she could see her thick eyelashes flutter open and close.

She scoffs, and moves on to the other side of his face. Her voice was also different, too, obviously. She was turned into a girl for some apparent reason, and it was something Mike couldn’t put into words either.

The girl turned off the water in her shower, sprinting outside the bathroom. Mike rummaged through her closet and carelessly threw in a v-neck he’d always wear while still wearing the bootcut jeans.

It was oversized, and the shirt looked like she borrowed it from some guy fatter and horizontally wider than her, especially the pants she’s wearing. It felt loose, and the belt isn’t helping either, matter a fact, it’s already on the verge of dropping to her ankles.

And to top it all off—she’s already late. Mike picks up her phone from the bedside table, and immediately she thought of Donna. She planned on explaining everything to her in hopes of her actually believing him, and why Mike couldn’t come to work.

But how? She’d sound crazy, and it would be hard.

Hey Donna. I woke up and suddenly I turned into a woman. Crazy right? Ahaha.

Would that even work? Well, maybe, if she added a scientific proof where men can just wake up into the opposite sex one day. Shit. She can’t.

But she wants to. Donna will understand… right?

Mike calls the number of the red-head, hoping she would pick up. A minute had gone by and she still isn’t answering. So she brushes it off and began to call her number from work.

“Pick up pick up pick up pick up—“

“Hello, this is Donna speaking,” a voice finally cuts through the line, interrupting her nervous breakdown.

Mike clears her throat. “Donna, you finally picked up,” she exclaims, already pacing around the room with her barefeet touching the wood.

“…Who is this?” she asks.

“Donna! it’s me, Mike!”

“Last time I checked, Mike was a guy.“

“I—That’s true. But please, you have to trust me on this one!” she protested in the most girliest voice ever, literally the opposite of Mike’s.

Donna scoffs. “Alright. If this is a prank call I’m hanging up—“

“No! please,” she begs. “It’s urgent! It really is me! If you come over I’ll—I’ll explain everything to you.”

“Hm…” she pretends to think, her index finger playing with the wire of her telephone. “This is so stupid—If you really are Mike, what’s something he would know?”

“Harvey used to work for the DA’s office. And right now, ‘Mike’ isn’t at work.”

“That’s not enough.”

Mike heaves a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose as she rests on top of the arm rest of her sofa. “Harvey’s mom had an affair and left the family to be with him. And—“

“How do you know that about Harvey?” she asks, glancing over to her shoulder, gaze directly pointing at her boss. “Only Mike and I knows that.”

“Because I am Mike!”

Silence follows for a moment, while Donna hesitated over the phone. “And what pleasure do I get from this?”

“I just need help. From you. And please, can you do me a favor?”

The red-head inhaled sharply. “What?”

“Can you bring some clothes for girls? Please. That’s all I’m asking for.”

“Fine,” she exasperated, rolling her eyes.

Mike finally sighs of relief, her back landing on the mattress still holding the phone up to her ear. “Thank you,” she replied breathlessly, then the other side hangs up.

Donna shot up from her chair, exchanging glances towards Harvey whos head is currently lowered to his laptop and the bustling hall full of people with files in hand as she hurried herself to the elevators.

————

Eventually it had occured to her that it’s hella weird, and shes been doing that for the past remaining minutes. She could be doing something else rather than doing whatever this is, like, cleaning up the mess would help. That would reduce the health-hazard.

She walks away from the window, pulling the curtains back and began to trudge her way towards the bathroom. She stares at her own reflection again, admiring her current appearance. And her breasts were… surprisingly big, and caught himself staring at them. Again.

Mike figured it wouldn’t be called ‘perverted’ if he’s looking at the opposite gender of him, especially her—goLLY—chest, or his own chest. He bets all women are like that, you know, staring at their own breasts. It’s normal, she thinks.

Finally, she heard knocking outside of her door. She quickly pulls it open, the door slamming against the wall, then their eyes finally met when Donna looks up.

For a moment silence followed. “Woah,” she exclaims. Her eyes scanning the girl whole, then she flicked her gaze back up to the person who’s supposedly ‘Mike.’ “You—you can’t be Mike.”

“Unfortunately I am. Will you come in now? Please?” He pleaded, arms resting against the doorframe as she sticks her head out to the empty hall. “Nobody followed you, right? not even Harvey—“

“Mike,” she briefly interrupted him. “Nobody is here. Besides me of course.”

The girl sighs of relief and held the door out to her as the red-head trudge’s her way inside, then she closes the door quietly. Donna looks around the place, her eyes instantly locked onto the mess laying around, then she turns her back at him, who’s currently standing by the door awkwardly.

“What?” She asks.

“How long was this place condemned?”

“Just because I asked you to come over doesn’t mean you get to criticize where I live.”

Donna shook her head briefly. She throws Mike the plastic bag with all sorts of dresses inside he’ll be trying on.

“Put those on,” she says, already walking up to Mike’s table and sat down, setting her makeup bag on top, then turning her back across from him. “I didn’t know which one you’ll like so I brought some extra’s incase you don’t like the first one—“

“Thank you so much Donna,” she interrupted, immediately barging into her bathroom again with the plastic bag held up to her chest as she locks the door.

She chooses a random dress, throwing it on and it ended up surprisingly good on her. It was a navy blue off-shoulder with a fitted top and a flared skirt that reached above his knees. The neckline was folded neatly up to her breasts, it’s short sleeves sitting off her shoulders.

Mike took a few steps back from the mirror, admiring her looks. She turned around glancing over to her shoulder, her gaze directly pointing at the mirror as she checks herself out from the back.

Her bare back was out. It was open, with a low cut from the lower back. She thought she needed to zip it back up, but when she tried to find it, Mike didn’t feel any zipper.

The girl brought her hair over one shoulder with her head slightly tilted to the side, letting it rest against her chest and fiddling with them a bit. Then she faces towards the door as she heads out.

Donna widens her eyes, then her lips twitched almost into a smile. “Oh my God,” she exclaims, pretending to cry. Dramatically. “Mike Ross is in a dress!”

Heat rose up to Mikes cheeks, turning her head away from Donna with her lips pressed together, hands curling into a fist by her sides until her knuckles turned white.

While she wasn’t looking, the red-head brought her phone out from her pocket and began to ‘discreetly’ take a photo of her, while still laughing her ass off from the sight.

“I love the dress, but there are other options. I brought so much and it would be a waste if you don’t get to try them on,” she says, her smile already reaching up to her eyes while trying to not burst out laughing.

Finally Mike’s head was facing towards Donna again. “But I like this one—“

“I dare you to twirl.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Mike,” she murmured, her arms resting on top of the back of the seat. “Or should I say Michelle, now that you’re a woman.”

She shrugs. “Michelle is actually not a bad name,” he says, slightly amused. “And what do I gain from this?”

“Nothing. You’re the one asking a favor.”

Michelle couldn’t bare the embarassment, pinching the bridge of her nose with her head down. And after some thinking, she finally spun around with barely any effort, her skirt dancing around with her.

“Do it again.”

“No, Donna, I will not spin around like I’m Mary Poppins.”

The red-head groaned, her head held up to the ceiling jokingly, then her gaze was back to him again.

“Go try on the others so I can do your makeup already, gosh!”

————

“What are you doing still standing there?” she complained. “Come over here. I’m gonna do your makeup now.”

A groan slips out of Michelle’s lips as she makes her way towards the chair across from her, it’s legs scraping against the wooden floor then bringing it in front of Donna and lazily sat down with a hunched back.

“Thats not very girly,” she started.

“Can we just get this over with…” She says through gritted teeth, and straightens her postyre. Her face was flushed as ever as she adjusted her fitted top.

Donna reached for her small makeup bag, unzipping it as she pulls out a brush. Then she dabs it onto the powder and started to gently move it across Michelle’s cheek.

“God I love that dress on you right now. It looks so much better on you,” she says mid brushing.

“I know,” she says playfully. “You should give it to me then—“

“No. You know how expensive that dress is? And fyi, that brand your wearing is literally Dolce and Gabbana. Something you can’t afford…”

Michelle scoffs. “It’s just a dress,” she mocks her. She still had that Mike in her. Get it?

“It’s not just a dress, Mike, the dress your wearing was on the cover of Vogue magazine back in 2009 of fall.”

“Then it’s old.”

Donna clicks her tongue at her. “No it’s not. You just don’t get it.” She pulls away the brush from her face as she places it back inside, then she grabs a small and thin tube out of her makeup bag.

“The hell is that?”

“Mascara. Keep your eyes open when I do this, alright?”

Michelle watches her as she twists the cap open revealing the wand. Then she repeatedly shoves it in and out of the tube as if sucking it whole or something.

“…What are you doing?”

“You ask too many questions, you know that?” She says, shooting Michelle a playful glare. Then she leaned in closer with the wand in hand, and started to swipe it along with her long eyelashes.

“You know… theres this party,” she pointed out, then she moves on with the other eye. “I was wondering if you could go with me. Everyone at work is going actually.”

“Whatever party it is, I’m not going, especially in a woman’s body. Gosh—it’s embarassing!”

Donna leaned back, her eyes widened. “You’re kidding. I can’t believe you just said that,” she went on. “I brought my makeup for this and now you don’t wanna attend? You look so good! What—she scoffs—what made you think I brought my makeup even though you weren’t asking for it?”

Michelle hesitated. “How—how will I even get in? Nobody is going to recognize me there,” she stammers. “I only asked clothes from you since I didn’t had anything girly in my closet, and I didn’t expect a literal dress.”

“You’re coming. With me,” she says, then she leaned in to her face again, swiping the mascara on her eyelashes. “And the dress looks fine.”

“Once we’re in there, i’m going to bring you in as my friend. And I’m also going to introduce to one of my co-workers. Louis, Rachel, and Jessica. Or anyone. Just pretend you don’t know them.”

“Okay. What about Harvey?”

“Anyone but him.”

“Why?”

“…No reason,” she says almost hesitantly. Then she pulls the mascara away from Michelles eye, shoving it back into the tube. “Almost done.”

Donna pauses for a moment, glancing towards the makeup bag before picking out a lipstick, her hands rummaging through the small kit.

Michelle gave her a small, knowing look. “This is where you mess up, right?” he clarifies jokingly.

“Please,” she muttered, her lips almost curving into a small smile. She pulled the cap off and twisted the lipstick upward, leaning in closer towards Michelles lips with one hand lifting her chin slightly. “Hold still…”

The red-head carefully glided the color across her bottom lip evenly in one stroke. She pauses for a moment taking in the shape, then she moves on to the upper lip, tracing it along.

Finally, she slowly pulled back, setting the lipstick on top of the table. She studies her face for a whole second with her head slightly tilted, half-amused.

“So,” she started, shoving her stuff back into the makeup bag. “How did you… you know, become this?”

Michelle sighs, and shrugs. “I don’t know, okay? I just woke up like this, and next thing I know I turned into a girl.”

Donna pressed her lips together as she zips her makeup bag close and looks at him, palms resting on top of her raised knees.

“Get up,” she demanded and shot up from the chair. The girl follows and brought her in to the bathroom as they face the mirror in front of them, while the other stood behind Michelle with her hands resting on top of her shoulders.

This time, Michelle wore a fitted black dress with a straight, square neckline and wide straps. It’s top shaping closely to her body, while the skirt fell above her knees.

The girl lets go of her shoulders, taking a few steps back as she takes in the view of the girl verson of Mike Ross in a dress. The concept of a man waking up as a girl was certainly the experience, and she’s glad Mike called her first.

“You look so good right now,” she complimented her. Then she forcefully turns Michelle’s arms around in front of her. “If were gonna go to that party, we must practice.”

“Practice for what?”

Donna rolls her eyes at her, avoiding Michelle’s question. “Whatever. If one of them asks for your name, what would you say?”

“Mike—I mean, Michelle Ross…?”

“Good. I think it’s best if you don’t say your last name—she clears her throat—where do you work and how old are you?”

The girl inhaled sharply. “This is so stupid…” she mumbled under her breath. “Is the info-dumping necessary? I mean, what if they don’t ask any of those?”

“They will. And you’re gonna say that you’re twenty-seven, currently working for the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit. You’re an agent there. And if they say they don’t know you, just say you’re from Virginia visiting from New York.”

Michelle blinks at her slowly, slightly taken aback. “So… I’m a cop.”

“Kind of. See how smart I am? I came up with that myself. And by the way, I don’t see you paying attention.”

The firl pretends to clear her throat, slightly shifting his stance. “My name is Michelle… Redfield. I’m twenty-seven years old and I work for the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit from Virginia.”

“Well I’m sorry for doubting you, Miss Redfield.” A laugh slips out of her lips, nudging her shoulder and heads out of the bathroom, while Michelle tails her from behind.

“Wait,” she called out from behind. “I don’t know what FBI agent’s do…”

“You watch movies. You’ll figure it out.”

Michelle gazes at the windows, and the sky had darkened. She brings her watch forward to her and the time read 6:05 PM.

She takes a few steps towards Donna from behind and asks, “what time is the party?”

The red-head turns her back at her. “7:00,” she replied, already packing her things and hanging her purse over to one shoulder. “We should go. Now.”

————

They both got out of the cab car. When it drove away along with the cars who’re leaving, Michelle walks up behind Donna, discreetly trailing her. As they reached the pavement, the red-head flicks her back to Michelle.

“What the hell are you doing?” she asks, folding her arms together.

The girl takes a few steps back, anxiously glancing over to the hotel behind her. She could almost hear the music, but it came out as muffling noises.

“I—uhm,” she stammers, unsure of what to say. She could feel his feet giving up on her already since she’s wearing high heels that slightly towered over Donna, and the cold wind brushing past his legs. “What if they suspect me?”

Donna scoffs, her eyes darting around as if it’s more interesting. “Oh my God…” she mumbled, rolling her eyes. Then she grabs Mike from the arm as they trudge their way to the entrance.

“Mike.” she coldly says. “You got away with fraud. This should be the least of your concern.”

Michelle shrugs it off. She’s right. She can’t be nervous. She’s went to parties a lot, just not in dresses, or in a woman’s body. But for some odd reason fate turned him into a girl. He didn’t like it, and it’s a hell of an experience. He just wishes to get it over with. Wake up and move on.

Once they got in, the soft murmurs of people talking and the faint music playing in the background were blended together.

Old paintings came into view as they continued down the hall. Donna’s arm were wrapped around Michelles, the clicking of their heels against the marble floor caught a lot of men in suit’s swooning over them from behind. The red-head only smiled, while the other cant help but observe the paintings hanging on both walls and their descriptions.

“Be nice,” she says through gritted teeth. They reared another corner then Donna brings Michelle over towards a bar where the party is taking place.

Finally, Michelle looks up, taking in the moment. It was dark with dim lighting, with a bunch of people talking in their round tables and curved couches almost overlapped with the music, and the stench of alcohol immediately filling in the air. Then her eyes were immediately locked onto the stage of four people playing their instruments, while the girl in the middle sang.

While she listened, Donna pulls her over to the front bar as she lets go of Michelles arm, then her voice cuts through the music. “Hey, Rachel,” she exclaims to the paralegal. “Sorry we were late. I—meet my friend!”

Michelle turns her gaze towards Rachel, her hand occupied with a drink as she stirs it around. “Hi,” she greeted excitedly and gets on her feet, shaking her hand. “I’m Rachel Zane.”

The girl clears her throat when they let go of each other’s hand. “I’m Michelle, it’s uhm, nice to meet you.”

The woman standing in front of her stared at Michelle longer than necessary, while Donna just stands there. Not even a single trace of anxiousness at all in those eyes. “Do I know you from somewhere? you look… very familiar,” she asks, brows furrowed.

A nervous laugh slips out of Michelles lips, her gaze turning to Donna for help. “Nope. I’m just visiting,” she flicks his look to Rachel. “You’re… a friend of Donna’s?”

“Mhm,” she clarifies, placing the glass of whiskey onto the counter as a smile tugs at her lips. “So… where do you work?”

“I work for the FBI,” she says almost confidently, exchanging knowing looks to Donna. “I’m apart of the Behavioral Analysis unit. In Virginia. I’m visiting here.”

“Wow,” she says, dragging the ‘wow,’ and nodded in approval. “I’m really curious. How did you guys meet?”

Just as Michelle was hesitant to speak, the red-head’s voice cuts through mid-conversation, their gazes turning to her. “She flew out to work a case in New York, and we met there.”

“Yep,” Michelle says immediately, popping the ‘p’ in yep as she and Rachel both returned to face one another.

“So how is working with the FBI like? and did you bring your badge?”

The girl opens and closes his mouth, her adams apple bobbing up and down. “I currently don’t have the badge with me,” she says. Like hell she has. “Working with them is okay. But imagine having to fly over to another state just to investigate on a case.”

Rachel slowly blinks, her head slightly moving to the side as she grabs her glass and takes a sip. “What’s wrong with that? I love flying.”

“Yeah. But it’s tiring.” Out of habit, Michelles hands tried to reach over her pockets, except the dress shes wearing doesn’t have one.

Rachel looks down at Michelle’s wrist, and notices the watch wrapped around them. It looked similar to what Mike usually wears for work, then she brought her gaze back up to her.

“That watch,” she says, holding the glass with one hand as she points it with the other. “Is that yours?”

“Mhm. What about it?”

“Do you have a brother, Michelle?”

The girl presses her lips into a thin line. “No,” she reassures her, slightly shifting the buckle on her watch nervously. “What—she scoffs—makes you think that?”

“What’s your last name?”

“R—Redfield.” She says anxiously, her heart racing. Luckily, she didn’t push further and only hummed and nodded in approval, her gaze shifting to Donna slowly.

The red-head clears her throat. “Michelle,” she began, giving her a ‘lets-get-outta-here’ look. “Come on. I’ll have to introduce you to one of my co-workers.”

Michelle nodded as she trails Donna from behind after exchanging an ‘i’ll see you later’ to Rachel, and finally they both take a seat in front of the shelving, just right across Rachel. Donna sets her purse on the counter while the other squirms in her seat, struggling to adjust her skirt a bit.

“Fuck,” she cursed under his breath, folding her arms together on top of the marble surface. Then her gaze slowly shifts over to her shoulder, and Donna’s just there, staring. “You know, I thought Rachel was gonna find out. What if she gets the wrong idea and thinks I’m crossdressing?”

The red-head heaves a sigh as she leans in forward to Michelle, one arm resting against the countertop while the other held the side of her chair.

“Stop overthinking all of this,” she assures her, “let’s just get a drink. I mean, you do look alot like Mike,” she giggles. Michelle looked away and shook her head in disbelief, while Donna calls out to the bartender for two glasses of champagne.

“Harvey was looking for you the whole day,” she started. “You haven’t been answering his calls.”

She jokingly held her head up to the ceiling, a soft groan escaping her lips. “God, I know,” she complained, dropping her shoulders tiredly. “He’s a hard-ass anyway. Besides he’ll forget about it.”

Michelle knew she did agree at some point. She could see her faintly smiling from the side, but she chose not to say anything.

”You know he’s just concerned about you,” she went on. “You know how Harvey is. He likes you.”

The girl scoffs and shook her head. Silence follows for a moment, letting the music playing in the background take over. Then the bartender brought out two glasses from underneath, pouring the champagne into a wine glass as he gives one to Donna. And unexpectedly, the man behind the counter winks at Michelle when she receives it, walking away to serve the other customers.

“Oh my God!” she exclaims and laughed, turning her gaze to Mike. “Did—did you see that? he winked at you!”

The girl brought her hair over to her shoulder, tugging at it nervously as she faces Donna, who’s smiling mischievously that Michelle could see her lip creases. “That’s not funny,” she retorted, trying to deny it.

“Actually, it is,” she says jokingly, her voice becoming quieter now and leaned in towards Michelles ear. “He’s not even trying to hide it. He’s hitting on you. Don’t you get it?” then she pulls away.

Michelle huffed out a laugh and shook her head, bringing the glass towards her lips as she takes it in one gulp, then she gently places it back against the counter with a faint clink. “If he were then he would’ve gave me a piece of napkin with his number,” she winced.

“Oh.” The red-head’s eyes were slightly wide, taking a small sip of her own. Then a blonde, curly-haired boy stood a few feet away from Michelle, his gaze directly pointing at her as he began to slowly trudge his way to her.

Donna clears her throat. “Oh look, Harold’s coming over,” she gives Michelle a playful wink, her face exaggerated. “Maybe you are better off as a girl.”

“Shut up,” she says through gritted teeth, embarassed, then her gaze turned to Harold sitting next to her. They held their stare for a moment while the blonde boy shifts slightly in his seat, his face flushed as ever.

“H—Hi,” he murmured, waving a hand at him. “I’m Harold… Gunderson.”

Michelle nodded thoughtfully, then her gaze shifted to Harold’s friends quietly cheering him on, and watching them both from afar as they nudge each other’s sides, probably betting whether Harold gets to go home with Michelle or not.

Then she flicks her gaze back to Harold, currently staring deep into Michelle’s puppy blue eyes. “Uhm,” he muttered. “So, how’s your evening going?”

The girl could hear Donna snickering quietly from behind, except she’s not being discreet with it. “It’s good… uh, I’m guessing you’re one of Louis Litt’s associates.”

The blonde-boy only nodded with his head down. He couldn’t even hide the fact his leg was shaking violently against the footrest of his stool. “Y—yeah, unfortunately. And how’d you know? I don’t see you around,” he asks, trying to remain casual as he tensed his shoulders. “You’re not a lawyer either.”

“Because I’m not around here,” she corrected. “And Donna told me. I’m a friend of hers.”

Looks like Mikes teaching didn’t pay off well, and surely not something Harold should ask to a woman. “Dont you think its weird asking a woman what their job is?”

Harold blinks his eyes at her. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he says. “Well… whats your name?”

“Michelle.” she says almost hesitantly, sticking her hand out towards Harold as they shook each other’s hands. He had no reason to be this ‘professional’ considering they’re in a bar, not work. The curly-head’s palm was sweating like crazy, and once Michelle lets go she wiped the wetness off his skirt.

“Uh… bartender?” he called out to the man behind the sink. “Two shots of champagne. Please. One for me and one for the lovely lady over here,” he pleaded. He sounded like he was almost hesitant to say that last line. The man nodded in recognition, bringing up two glasses again.

“Well, Michelle, uh…” he started. He glanced over to his shoulder, his gaze directly at his friends laughing in the background. Then he looks back at Michelle again. “I think you’re really pretty and—“

In one swift motion, the bartender cuts Harold off and finally brings out two shots of champagne for the both of them. Harold didn’t drink first though, but Michelle did, finishing it in one gulp again—and slamming it against the marble counter.

“My bad. What were you saying again?” she asks, wiping the excess wetness off her mouth on the back of her hand. “Can you say it louder this time?”

“Shit,” he cursed softly under his breath. “I think you’re really pretty and I’m just wondering if I can get your number.”

Creases started to form in Michelle’s forehead as she furrows her brows, her lips slightly apart as her eyes darkened. “Oh Harold,” she scoffs, a smile tugging at her lips. He couldn’t believe his own friend is hitting on him. “You’re cute and all but, you’re not my type…”

“I—“ he muttered. “Uh, alright, what’s your type then?“

“Oh my God,” Michelle mumbled under her breath, elbows resting against the counter with the heel of her hand next to her temple. “It’s none of your business, weirdo.”

“Well, fine then! I never liked you anyway,” Harold exclaims. Then he gets on his feet, waddling to his friends to report back what just happened. Michelle pulled her gaze away from them, shoving the thought aside as she calls out for more champagne.

At first, she didn’t want to hurt his feelings, ‘cause obviously they’re friends, but it’s awkward. Imagine a friend of yours hitting on a female version of yourself, and it would probably end bad. Harold’s a great guy though, just not him.

“Oh, Donna—“ Shes not there. Her eyes instinctively scanned the whole place looking for her, and it felt like her heart stopped mid-time, skipping a beat. Maybe she left because she couldn’t bare the embarrassment, or maybe she just went to the bathroom. Hopefully she comes back sooner or later.

Then a moment later, the bartender brings her the champagne. Michelle didn’t waste any time and grabbed the wine glass in her hand, swallowing it whole again until it was emptied out.

A few minutes had gone by, and Donna still hadn’t made it out to her yet. Not a red-head in sight either when she tried, and in those remaining minutes, she didn’t dare drink more. She just sat there ‘patiently’ waiting for Donna, except she’s literally panicking on the inside. She didn’t know why she was feeling like this.

Michelle brought her watch towards her, and the time read 8:32 PM. She needed a ride home after, and the party’s until eleven. Taxi cabs get hella expensive in the evening till midnight, and she’s not going to waste the left-over five dollars Donna handed to her beforehand. Hell, five dollars isn’t enough for one!

She squirms uncontrollably in her stool, shifting her posture every minute or so, urging himself to walk out of the bar to look for her. Then his head moves around his surroundings again, and the murmuring only gotten louder. Her back was sweating, the fabric of the fitted top makes him itch, the bright lights in front of the shelving almost blinding her, and her head was aching. Michelle brings two fingers up to her temples and closes her eyes.

She thought of leaving but she can’t just leave Donna. Just as Michelle was staring into nothing while stirring the glass around mid-air, already getting annoyed, the bartender suddenly approaches in front of her. “Hey. Just to let you know, your tab’s already been covered.”

The girl flicks her gaze up immediately as her eyes widened. “What?” she retorted, no longer holding the glass.

“Yeah.” The man says tiredly, as he continued on with his job, not even bothering to point out who the person is. Michelle glanced around, hoping Donna was the one covering for her, but she’s still not here. The girl heaves a sigh, then, out of nowhere—in his peripheral vision, a man wearing a suit seats next to him.

“Mind if I sit here?” the man says, his voice firm as he adjusts himself to the seat.

Michelle rubbed her eyes, a soft groan slipping out of her lips. “You’re already sitting,” she says, exhausted. Then she turns his gaze to the man next to her, and her heart dropped almost down to her ass.

Taken aback, she blinks a few times. “Harv—uhm, h-hey,” she stammered, trying to sound ‘casual,’ except she’s not. That’s her boss, right there, in front of her. Her heart raced, tucking one side of her hair behind her ear.

She could see the gel particles just carelessly shoved in his hair strands underneath the dim lights above them, and it was styled in a side-swept. Same thing he usually has for work.

“How’s your evening going?” he asks. He spreads both of his arms across the counter, leaning in slightly.

The girl clears his throat. “Uh, great. Totally. Have we met?”

A smile tugs in Harvey’s lips. “I’m Harvey, by the way,” he says confidently, offering a hand as he faces his body towards her. “I’ve never seen you around before.”

Michelle adjusts the top of her dress nervously, then she shakes his hand. Why’s everyone so formal here? she thought. “Uhm. I’m Michelle. I, uh, I’m from Virginia. I’m just here to visit with Donna—do you know her?”

The older man nodded. “She’s my secretary.”

I should ask where Donna is, Michelle thought. But she has to let it marinate their sudden encounter for a bit rather than get straight to the point. It’ll sound like Harvey’s a predator or something. And knowing him he doesn’t back down a challenge…

“Yeah, I’ve heard.” Her eyes darted around the bar, trying to look for that red-head, then her gaze was back to him. “So… you’re a lawyer?”

“Attorney,” he corrected. “I close situations. What about you?”

The girl inhaled sharply. Shes been asked the same quesion. Thrice. “I work for the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit. I uh… investigate cases.

“FBI, huh?” he went on, slightly amused. “You don’t look like the type.“

She only shrugged, leaning forward to the counter tiredly. “You don’t look like the type either.”

Harvey scoffs with the most obvious cockiness just spreaded across his face. “What do you guys do besides investigating?”

“Well, uh, we often teach new FBI recruits how to understand criminal psychology, how to interrogate, and the basics in profiling. But there’s a lot which I don’t wanna go through, so it’s best if you just search it up.”

“Well,” she softly snorts when he doesn’t reply. “Enough about me. You must be busy all the time, huh?” Michelle asks as he watched Harvey take a sip of his whiskey.

“Depends,” he clarifies. “You asking professionally or are you trying to figure me out?”

“Hm—she shrugs—Maybe.” She went on playfully and smiled, facing her body towards him rather than be glued to the counter. “How’s it like being a lawyer?”

“Feels like leverage,” he replied, their eyes meeting one another and shrugged lightly. “And recognizing it the second it walks in.”

Michelle blinks her eyes slowly, shifting vaguely in hee stool. “Are you flirting with me?” she asks, genuinely curious, her heart beating hastily. “I bet you say that to every other women you hit on.”

Harvey slightly tilted his head to the side, hands buried into the pockets of his blazer and not saying anything. Instead they both held their stare until one of them decides to speak up.

“Should I be worried you might be profiling me right now?” he asks teasingly, his voice cutting through the awkwardness as a small smile tugs at his lips.

“I don’t need to,” she says. “You latched on to me first though.”

His smile widens, and takes another sip of his drink, his eyes still glued to Michelles. If this is how Harvey hits on women, then hes doing bad at it. First Harold, now Harvey—what an upgrade. He can’t be that good-looking as a woman, but lowkey she’s enjoying the attention so far, and thought about killing time with him for shits and giggles. Although it irked her.

Michelle thought of exchanging numbers at first, but figured his number would be the same as Mikes, and Harvey already has his number. Neither of them suggested in giving each others numbers though, which Michelle already knew since he already has a lot of girls in his contacts. She didn’t care though.

Twenty minutes had past, and they pretty much hit it off. (she forgot to ask where Donna is) Harvey talked about his job while Michelle pretended he didn’t know all of that already, and exchanged some laughs while they order more drinks. Michelle had to come up with the fake stories about working for the FBI though, and it sounded like he believed in it. Harvey only drank a few, while the other kinda got carried away, almost forgetting that he’s still in a woman’s version of himself. Hes gotten used to being with Harvey most of the time while being in the male version.

The girls face was flushed that reached the tip of her ears, her voice getting quieter and more slurred and lazy as the people surrounding them not batting an eye, while Harvey just watched. Michelle’s drunk, and in total she drank about ten or higher of them, give or take. She did counted though.

“You know—burp—I gotta get going,” she says, eating out of her words as she carefully reached her feet to the ground, getting ready to leave. “Donna might be waiting for me… It’s nice talking with you—“

“Hold on,” Harvey briefly interrupted and shot up on the stool, shifting himself infront of Michelle towering over him. Then the girl looks up dazily at him. “I’ll give you a ride,” he went on, his gaze drifting to the exit. “To my place…” he mumbled under his breath.

A groan slips out of Michelle’s lips as she drags her feet against the floor and headed out, while Harvey just trailed her from behind, but eventually he caught up and began to walk side-by-side down the empty hall. She didn’t care. The clicking of Michelles heels against the marble surface filled in the eerie silence, their shoulders brushing one another.

They both managed to get out without her accidentally tripping, and the sky had already darkened once they stepped out. The cold breeze bit into her body while the other looked unbothered with his thick suit, the strong wind almost blowing Michelles long hair from behind messing up a bit.

Harvey looks over to Michelle. “You ready?” he asks, exchanging glances from him to the black BMW parked behind the ledges of the sidewalk.

“Yeahurgh….”

————

Harvey pushes the door off to his pent-house, kicking it shut from behind with his leg when they got in, then she pulls Michelle into a kiss with his hands bucking her waists like he’s seeking more. Their warmth pressed against each others lips until champagne began to invade their mouths, and tongues overlapping with one another like a knot like some sword-fight.

The girl began to lay her arms on top of his shoulders. Suddenly, Harvey hooks her legs around his hips, carrying Michelle all the way to the bedroom, and neither of them dared to pull away.

The living-room and the kitchen came into view from her peripheral vision as they trudge their way into his room, even though she’s already familiar with the apartment. The lights were dim, casting over shadows. She’s aware of what’s happening, but the girl’s drunk. Probably will forget it the next day anyway…

As they got in, the room got colder and dark. Harvey softly sets Michelle across the mattress with her lower back behind the pillows, and spreads her legs slightly. The girl pushed off Harveys jacket, while the other began to pull away her skirt. Their movements were almost frantic as they tore eachothers clothes off.

They all fell away quickly, then thrown off to the carpet without a care in the world. Finally they broke apart, leaving only to their heaving breaths pressed to one anothers faces. Michelle swallowed hardly, and her mouth dried up just by the sight of him.

Not the typical view Mike usually sees at work, but most of the time he’d see Harvey in v-necks lazily thrown on him. But wow. This is what he had been hiding? Compared to his male body, Mike’s a lot thinner, and pale. The other was slightly tanned with broad shoulders. Muscled chest and—

Packing bigger than his. The thought of it being inside Michelle made her brain-circuited as her stomach spiraled with anticipation with a mix of desperation. It was already hard, and huge. He can’t be serious. Theres no way it’d fit either.

As Michelle dragged her gaze back up to his, he was already staring. His eyes darkened, probably getting impatient.

“Lay down,” Harvey demanded coldy. Michelle pressed her lips into a thin line and obeyed, doing exactly what he asked for. Then the man hovers over between the gaps of her legs, admiring her hot figure as a smile tugs at his lips. And after what felt like eternity, he dug his erection into her entrance with his hands on both sides of her hips.

Michelle could feel its tip halfway, and bit her bottom lip as she watched him slowly take her whole with her brows furrowed. “Fuck,” she murmured that melted into a breath sigh, and before she could complain—for a slight moment, Harvey pulled away an inch of his dick before slamming into her as a soft whimper almost escapes Michelles lips.

“You like that?” he clarifies, then he pressed down her stomach with his dick still buried into her so she could feel every inch.

The girl held her head up to the ceiling and nodded, bringing the back of her hand on her mouth to cover her whining. She was so wet Harvey slid in again without much resistance, so she clenched the sheets from her side. He didn’t move until Michelles body acclimated to his size, his tip brushing her anal walls as a moan escapes her lips.

Only then did he pull out and pushes it back in. Slowly at first, then faster and deeper. He repeated the same rhythm and thrusts as his groans had gotten a bit louder than the first time. Finally, he hammered deep into her, and noticed Michelles eyes had rolled back to her head.

Harvey pulls his dick out, and lifts her leg up to his shoulder, then he dips his head to her inner thighs—licking and trailing kisses as it got deeper with his eyes still focused on her, panting heavily. Unfortunately, her eyes were fluttered close.

“Open your eyes,” he says coldly, pulling his mouth away from her inner thigh that left a trail of his saliva. Then he moves his head to the side. “I know you like it. Don’t lie. And speak.”

Michelles eyes slowly went up, and blinks a few times before heaving a heavy sigh. Her eyes were glassy, hair in an askew and face flushed. Fuck, he’s unbearbly hot, its embarassing to look like this in front of him considering his privileged state.

“Y-yes,” she hesitated. Harvey scoffs, then she spun Michelle around on her stomach as he lifts her ass up. He looks down and gazes out at her round ass, and buried his dick into her lower back.

He gripped her hips and slammed her down again on his dick driving every inch in Michelle, her face buried into the pillows with her arms underneath. Harvey could hear her whine softly through the muffled noises as it got louder.

Harvey decides to slow down a bit, pulling his dick halfway out with the head still buried inside.

For a moment, she catches her breath as she fixes her throat and braced her knees onto the bed, her legs quivering. Michelle moves her head over to the side, face no longer tucked to the covers, peeking over to her shoulder. She pulls her hair to her chest and began to slowly move back and forth from behind.

Her thrusts slightly grows faster, taking in every inch of his dick. And when she got tired, she’d start slowly, then deeper, or it stays that way in the same position with her heavy—uneven breathing. You can tell shes enjoying this…

Bonus points for the effort though, Harvey thought. He was smiling the whole time when she was the one guiding or in control, and he liked that. Then, she stops mid-thrusting halfway through his dick, trying to catch her breath, except she looked like she was about to have an asthma attack or something. (she isnt dw)

“Getting tired?” Harvey asks playfully, tilting his head slightly to the side with a small smile tugging in his lips. He wanted more, but he also didn’t want to seem like hes just forcing it. Maybe she really is tired.

He presses his lips into a thin line before plummetting next to her, his elbows resting against the pillows next to her head with his the heel of his palm sitting on one side of his temple, and noticed Michelle had gone to sleep faster as snug as a bug.

Harvey takes in her appearance, staring at her messy hair and the way her back arch, but her face remained the same. Then he tucks her hair behind her ear and brushes them off her face so he could see her clearly, even though while they were at the talking, he’s thinking of fucking her. Most of the time he just stares while she talked.

Harvey thought she looked really familiar, and thought of searching her up later in hopes of finding more pictures of Michelle in an article or something. Maybe he saw her somewhere but never acknowledged it. At first when she mentioned she was apart of the FBI he was hooked immediately. Like—a woman working for that kind of male dominated environment? thats hot.

He didn’t regret fucking her though. She was really good in bed, and glad that Donna made him meet up with her at that bar, and surprisingly they actually hit it off. Michelle sounded like he knew Harvey a long time, too, which bugged him a little.

He even noticed his body language, the way she spoke, and her personality was really similar to Mikes for some reason. He didn’t know why he thought of him first. He just did. Her eyes though—maybe that gave it away. Same shape. Same eye color. Yeah, thats right. (Not just her eyes.)

Harvey couldn’t help but stare at her longer than necessary. Her nose. Lips. Hell, even her eyebrows. He wasn’t even paying attention to her naked body or anything, just her face. Then he pulls a blanket over to her body as he closes his eyes and quietly drifts off to sleep.

————

Mike wakes up in his own place with a throbbing headache. His whole body was covered in sweat, and the sun is shining brighter than any other morning that made him jolt awake. He was hot. A groan slips out of his lips before squirming left and right in his bed before hopping off to shower.

It took him a while trying to find his phone without glancing over to the bedside table before catching it in his sweaty palm. Then he flips the screen towards him, noticing the time and realizes he had woken up a bit later than usual—8:46 AM.

His eyes widened, then he wipes the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He probably wouldn’t have the time to shower at this point, so he shrugs it off and swung his legs over to the bed and began rummaging through rows of suits sitting in his closet that Harvey had bought for him, and lazily throws it on along with a tie.

His whole body was wobbly. He could feel his legs trembling a bit, and at some point he almost tripped. He felt like his throat was dry, too, and that back pain that randomly striked him this morning. Ouch.

The boy’s place was still a mess, and his whole room reeked of weed—with a hint of some older woman’s perfume when he approached the kitchen to grab something on his way to bike all the way to work.

Then he grabs his messenger bag from the coat rack, and swings it over his body. He checks the time on his phone again, 9:00—time’s really passing fast huh? In a Friday, too. Great way to ease the headache.

Harvey would be mad, he thought. Hes so cooked. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath. He quickly brushed the thought of eating something on his way and trudges his way outside, grabbing his bike from the parking rack and began to make his way towards the almost busy road.

Whats strange was that Mike didn’t recall going to work yesterday either, and it felt like he slept throughout the whole time and woke up today. That cant be. He’s never missed a day to work, alongside with the breaks Harvey would give him whenever he’s going through something.

And in a hurry he had forgotten to plug in his earbuds he’d always wear on the road, so now he’s stuck with the bustling noises of cars, and their God annoying beepers. Harvey’ll understand if he doesn’t make it in time though. Its not like he hadn’t bother going to work early anyway.

Twenty minutes later he finally arrives in front of the building. He sets his bike in the parking rack, locking it in place and began to trudge his way inside the lobby to his floor. As he walked down the hall to Harveys office he could feel several stares against him, but he paid no mind to it and walks up to Donna’s desk.

He rests his arms on top and glanced towards the empty seat in Harveys office. “Wheres Harvey?” he asks, tilting his head slightly. He’s surprised he even came in first before him.

Donna looks up with a knowing look. “Weren’t you guys fucking last night?”

“What? No. I didn’t come to work.”

“Sure you didn’t,” she exclaims, looking down at her computer screen. “You don’t remember? we were at a bar yesterday.”

“No we weren’t.”

“Yes, we were,” she corrected coldly. “Dont mess me with that ‘memory loss’ bullshit when you have an eidetic memory.”

“I—I’m not playing!” he protested. “what are you talking about?”

Donna clicks her tongue at him. “Go to work, Mike,” she says, and her fingers began to hover across the keyboard quickly. “Wait for Harvey, or something.”

Mike heaves a long sigh and takes a few steps back from her cubicle. Then he stops mid-way and feels a hand grapsing his shoulder from behind, and forcefully brings him towards his office.

Harvey lightly shuts the door close and faces his body to Mike. “Enlighten me. Care to tell me why you didn’t come to work?” he says angrily, and walks up in front of him. “You weren’t answering any of my calls either.”

“What? what calls?”

“Dont play dumb, Mike,” Harvey protested, almost closing in the distance between them. “It better be worth my time.”

“I swear. I don’t remember any calls. All I know was that I woke up today.”

”Oh, so all of a sudden your photographic memory went away too? Are you also faking that?”

Silence followed for a moment, leaving Mike dumbfounded as hell. Harvey only gave him a glare, and shoves a file against his chest. “Review those by-laws by the end of the day,” he started, settling on his chair. and flips his laptop open. “Something that should’ve been finished since yesterday…”

The boy was startled and presses his lips into a thin line. Then he collapses on Harveys couch across from his table and began flipping through the pages, his back plummetting backwards—and the throbbing headache lingered longer than usual.

As he scanned through the texts he couldn’t help but think on what Donna meant when she said they were at a bar yesterday. Followed by her saying, quote on quote, him and Harvey fucking. The fuck? Even with that photographic memory, he swore nothing happened, and everything was pitch black. He could’ve swore it was Wednesday the other day. But for some reason it’s Friday.

It bothered him. A lot. Every time he tried focusing on the by-laws, he’d notice Harvey stealing glances from him for a slight moment, before it got longer and lowers his head to the laptop. It was distracting, and it got to a point where Mike began to shake his leg against the carpet while reading. Hell, I bet Harvey noticed that too.

“Do you have a sister, Mike?” Harvey asks out of nowhere, then he pushes his chair back slightly as his legs slightly went apart.

Mike flicks his gaze at him, brows furrowed. “…No,” he says softly. “Why?”

He pulls his seat behind the desk, and lowers his head to the computer again. “No reason.” His tone sounded like he was disappointed, but chose not to say anything else.

Mike went back to reading the folder with a dumbfounded look on his face. Harvey knew he never had a sister. So why bother asking? But he pushed the thought away and continued on reading anyway.

”You know, last night I met a girl,” he went on. “She said her name was Michelle, a friend of Donna’s.”

”I’m listening.”

”We hit it off. We sorta hooked up in my place after the bar, but when I woke up shes gone.”

A small smile tugs at Mike’s lips, and crosses his legs. “She must’ve ghosted you then,” he giggles.