something different bloomed, writing in my room

most can be found on ao3

Harvey Specter

Harvey x reader playlist here!

and every day is like a battle, but every night with us is like a dream (smut and angst)

Harvey is Late...Again (smut and angst)

Tolerate It Chapter One (angst)

Tolerate It Chapter Two (smut and angst)

Harvey Wants A Baby (smut)

Right Here Where You Left Me (angst)

The Three Times Harvey Specter Couldn't Find A Legal Loophole For You (angst and fluff)

Who's A Good Boy (smut)

Who's A Good Boy/Alternate Ending (smut)

Sleeping Beauty (fluff and smut)

Put It In Neutral (smut)

Who Fell First, Who Fell Hard (angst)

Harvey's Black Robe (smut and fluff)

Welcome, Baby (fluff, angst)

Take Care (fluff)

Jump Then Fall (angst, smut, fluff)

Trope Tuesdays with Harvey Specter

touch her and die with Tanner

panic attack

suffer

Harvey Specter x Matt Murdock

Three Way Negotiation (smut smut smut)

The boring stuff but the stuff that needs to be said-

© punkromanticwrites, 2024. All Rights Reserved.

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------------------

Hello, and welcome to my master list!

I'm punkromantic on ao3, knowns as punkromanticwrites here. I've been writing for over ten years professionally but most of the time it’s for fun. I've connected with an amazing community of readers and writers and I'm so grateful for them.

With a creative writing professor as my husband, I've had the privilege (and sometimes the challenge) of honing my craft with his guidance, I’m his worst student lmao. Most of my fanfic work can be found on AO3, where I currently write for Harvey Specter.

While I love sharing my work, I want to be clear: respect the effort that goes into these stories. Don’t steal or plagiarize my work. Writing is a labor of love and a lot of effort goes into each piece. I appreciate every reader, comment, and piece of feedback, but please do not take advantage of my work. 

This master list is here to help you navigate my stories easily. Feel free to explore, comment, and share.

The night before, Donna had said you should go somewhere warm yet cool, away from the city's heat. So that morning, you went to the airport, and you and Harvey booked the first flight out of the city, not knowing where you were going. You didn't care as long as it was somewhere warm but not melting.

You're not even sure where you are now. It's a resort, but not the type with a hotel, a restaurant, and a pool. No, this is a secluded place with cabanas, and the only way to get around is by boat. It's like its own island but connected to the rest of the world by a small bridge.

Your first morning here is spent exploring. Last night, you arrived at dusk and immediately fell asleep. But the following day, you get up with the sunrise and leave Harvey asleep in the bed, still snoring quietly.

The weather is beautiful. A nice, warm breeze is blowing, but not so strong that it's overbearing. You find the path down to the water and follow it for a bit.

You end up at a large waterfall surrounded by a small beach area. It's like a secret place. And since you are the only one around, you decide to go swimming.

It's the perfect day for it. The sun is high, the water is warm, and the sand is hot against your bare feet. You strip down to your underwear and dive in, the cool water a welcome change from the warmth of the air.

When you come up for air, you swim towards the waterfall and let the cool water fall over your head, washing the salt off your skin.

As you tread water, you look around and notice that this side of the waterfall is more enclosed. The rock walls around you are covered with moss and vines, and the waterfall cascades over them, creating a natural curtain.

It's peaceful and quiet, and you let the water relax you, closing your eyes.

And that's when you hear him.

"What are you doing?"

You jump, startled, and turn around. Harvey is standing there on the beach, looking at you.

"I'm swimming," you say, and he laughs.

"Obviously," he says, then walks into the water. He stops when it's waist-deep and leans back, letting the sun dry him. "I'm just curious why you're swimming in your underwear."

"Because I didn't think you'd wake up until later, I didn't want to wake you rummaging for my bikini," you say, a little annoyed. You turn away from him and face the waterfall again.

"Oh, well," he says and swims towards you. "I woke up, and you weren't there. What am I supposed to think?"

"That I went for a walk?"

He laughs again and reaches out for you. You try to move away, but he's already grabbed your hand. "Come here," he says and tugs at your arm. You let him pull you towards him and then wrap your legs around his waist, holding on.

He smiles at you and runs his fingers through your hair, pushing it out of your face. "You're beautiful, you know that?"

You smile and lean in to kiss him. Then, you put your hands on his shoulders and let him hold you up.

"You're beautiful too," you laugh when you break the kiss and run your hand over his bare chest. He looks down and grins.

"Thanks," he says, lifting his eyes to meet yours again. His face is serious now. "I'm glad you're here with me. Remind me to give Donna a thank-you gift."

You smile. "Me too," you say, and you mean it. You've never been so happy in your life.

He grins again and kisses you once more. Then, he releases you and turns, swimming towards the waterfall. He disappears behind it, and you hear a splash.

You wait a few seconds, then you follow him. When you reach the curtain of water, you step through and gasp.

It's like stepping into a fairytale.

The waterfall is wider than you had expected, and the curtain of water is several small waterfalls, each with its own cascade. The water falls over the rocks, forming small pools on the ground. Small trees grow in the crevices, and the whole place is covered in moss and vines.

You walk deeper into the cave and see Harvey leaning against a boulder. He's looking at you, a mischievous smile on his face.

"What are you smiling about?"

He steps towards you and pulls you towards him. You put your arms around him, and he kisses you.

"Nothing," he says. "Just thinking about how happy I am."

You laugh and pull him in for another kiss. You wrap your legs around him, and he picks you up. He carries you towards the pool's edge and puts you down, letting the water cover your feet.

"It's so beautiful here," you say, and Harvey smiles.

"Yeah, it is," he says, reaching out for you. "So are you."

You shake your head and pull him in for a kiss. He wraps his arms around you and kisses you back hard.

You pull away and look up at him. "What are we doing?"

He laughs. "Well, we're married. Isn't that what married couples do?"

You grin. "Not here."

"Then where?"

"Here," you say, pulling him towards the pool's edge again. You sit down and pat the ground next to you. He sits down beside you and looks at you, confused.

"Here?"

You nod and put your hand on his thigh. You run it up and down, slowly, teasing him. He leans back and lets you touch him, watching you.

You keep going, and his eyes close, and he groans. You move your hand up to his waistband and tug at the drawstring.

"Harvey," you whisper, and his eyes open.

"Hmm?"

"Take off your shorts."

His eyes widen. "Now?"

You nod. "Please," you say, and he nods.

He stands and strips off his shorts, revealing his hard cock. You take it in your hand and stroke him. He closes his eyes again and sighs.

"Oh god," he breathes.

You continue to stroke him, and he moans softly. He reaches out and takes hold of your hand, stopping you.

"Let me touch you," he says.

"Okay," you whisper. He takes your other hand and guides it down between your legs. You let him put it where he wants it, and he slides his fingers inside of you. You moan and arch your back.

"Oh god, Harvey," you whimper.

He groans and slides his fingers deeper, finding your sweet spot. He rubs his thumb against it, and you cry out.

"Oh god, that's it," he growls.

"More," you plead.

"You want more?" he asks.

"Yes," you beg.

"Okay," he says.

He slides his fingers in and out of you, faster and harder, and you feel the pressure building.

"Oh, yes," you moan. "Don't stop."

"I won't," he promises, sliding his fingers deeper.

You cry out and buck your hips against him. He moves his thumb faster, and you feel yourself getting closer and closer.

"That's it," he says.

"Yes," you whimper.

He rubs harder, and you gasp.

"Fuck, yes," he groans. "You're so wet."

"Oh, god," you cry and come, clenching around his fingers.

He pulls them out and lifts them to his lips, tasting you. He moans and then pulls you into his arms.

"You taste so good," he says.

"Harvey," you moan.

"Yes, baby?"

"Fuck me."

"Anything you want, my love," he says, then turns you around.

You kneel on the boulder, and he positions himself behind you. He enters you slowly, and you feel his cock stretching you.

"God, you're so tight," he groans.

"Fuck me," you beg, and he obliges.

He thrusts his hips, fucking you hard and fast.

"Oh god, Harvey, yes," you cry, and he grunts.

"You feel so good," he says.

He keeps fucking you, and you feel the pressure building again.

"Don't stop," you plead.

"Never," he growls.

"Harvey," you scream. "Please, oh god, please, fuck me harder."

He obliges and thrusts deeper and harder. You feel his cock hitting the right spot, and the pressure builds until you're ready to burst.

"Oh god," you moan. "Yes, yes, yes!"

He fucks you faster, and you feel yourself starting to come. You cry out, and the orgasm washes over you.

"Yes, Harvey, yes," you moan, and he keeps fucking you, bringing you over the edge again.

He keeps going, and you come a third time, crying out his name.

"Yes," he groans.

"Oh god," you whimper.

He grabs your hips and thrusts his cock deep inside you.

"Yes," he groans.

"More," you beg, and he fucks you harder.

You cry out, and he pounds into you.

"I'm gonna fucking come," he growls.

"Please," you moan, and he fucks you faster and harder.

"Fuck," he groans.

"Yes," you moan. "I'm so close."

He grunts, and you feel him explode inside you. You come a fourth time, and he pulls out of you, his cock still hard.

"Oh, fuck," he groans and collapses next to you.

"Holy shit," you breathe.

He laughs and turns towards you. He kisses your forehead and then looks down at you.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," you say. "You?"

"Yeah," he says. "You're amazing."

You laugh. "You're not so bad yourself," you say.

"You're fucking amazing," he says. "And sexy. And beautiful."

"Shut up," you laugh.

"No, really," he says, leaning in and kissing you.

"Mmmm," you hum. "That was amazing."

"You're amazing," he says. "I love you."

You smile and kiss him again. "I love you too."

He grins and pulls you into his arms. "I can't believe we're actually married."

"Me either," you say.

He kisses your head, and the two of you are tangled.

You think back to when Donna asked you about your perfect dream man, and you realize that somehow—Donna being Donna—she was right to set you up with Harvey.

"I love you," you say again, and Harvey kisses your head.

"I love you too."

Your getaway may be short, but you'll always have this. The two of you are lying in a tropical paradise, enjoying the warmth and the breeze, the sound of the waterfall.

"She's just using him," one associate muttered to another as you passed their cubicles.

"I bet she's just trying to get ahead," another chimed in, her voice dripping with envy.

At first, you tried to brush it off. After all, you knew the truth. But the rumors grew louder, the sideways glances more frequent, and the biting remarks more pointed. You could feel the weight of their assumptions pressing down on you, making you question whether ignoring it was right.

You weren't with Harvey because of his power or his money. You were with him because he was Harvey—complex, guarded, fiercely loyal, and surprisingly tender when no one else was around. But it seemed that no one cared to see that side of him. Or you.

The final straw came when you overheard a conversation in the hallway. 

"I give it a month before she's angling for a promotion or a corner office," someone said with a sneer. "And Harvey? Please. He's just another one of her stepping stones."

"Harvey gets what he wants, too, but why her?" they kept going as you quietly walked a few steps behind them. 

Your blood boiled. You'd worked too hard and endured too much to have your reputation tarnished by baseless gossip. But just as you were about to speed up and confront them, a hand gently caught yours. Harvey. 

He'd been listening right behind you. Of course, he had.

"Don't," he whispered, his voice low and steady. His eyes—a mix of anger, protectiveness, and something more profound- bore into you, making your heart ache.

You wanted to argue, to demand that he let you set the record straight, but one look at him and you knew better. So you stayed quiet, following him into his office, where he shut the door behind you.

"Harvey—"

"I know what you're going to say," he cut in, his tone leaving no room for debate. "And I'm handling it."

You sighed, frustration bubbling up. "You can't just handle everything for me. They think I'm using you, that I'm only with you for—"

"They think a lot of things," he interrupted, his voice softer this time but still laced with an edge. "But what they don't know is none of this"—he gestured between the two of you—"is any of their damn business."

He took a step closer, his eyes locking onto yours with that intensity that always made your breath catch. "They don't know you like I do. They don't see what I see. And frankly, they don't get a say in what we have."

Your chest tightened, not from sadness but from the overwhelming sincerity in his voice. Harvey Specter wasn't a man who quickly let people in, who gave away his trust freely. And yet, here he was, staking his claim not just on you but on the truth of your relationship.

"Harvey..." you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "I just don't want them to think—"

"To hell with what they think," he said, stepping closer still, his hands finding your waist and pulling you into him. "I know why you're with me. You know why you're with me. That's all that matters."

You nodded, feeling the tension ease from your shoulders as he held you. You'd always known what you had with Harvey was deep, complicated, and undeniably real. And now, in his arms, it felt like the rest of the world's opinions could melt away.

"And, for what it's worth, you're doing a damn good job of proving them wrong every single day."

You smiled, feeling the tension in your chest ease up just a bit. "Thanks, Harvey."

He nodded, his smirk turning into a full grin. "Besides, if you were really here for the benefits, you'd be asking for a lot more than just coffee in the mornings."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile that broke across your face.

He grinned, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. "You know, you could've at least pretended to be after my money," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "That way, I could've convinced you I'm worth more than what's in my bank account."

You laughed softly, feeling the tension melt away under his touch. "Oh, is that so? And how would you do that?"

His grin widened, his voice dropping to a low whisper. "Well, for starters, I'd make sure you never had to lift a finger for your morning coffee again. Then, I'd probably spend the next few decades showing you every reason why waking up next to me is the best perk of all. I have the rest of my life to show you.”

You couldn't help but smile, your cheeks warming as you nudged him playfully. “The rest of your life? Decades? You really think that far ahead?"

His eyes sparkled, his smile softening into something more. "When it comes to you? Yeah, I do."

In the next few months, dating Harvey Specter was like stepping into a whirlwind. Our love story was full of contrasting emotions. Heartbreak and happiness intertwined in a dizzying dance. Like two clashing storms, we ignited a fire that consumed us both.

It was as if the universe had finally allowed two stubborn forces to collide, creating an exhilarating and profoundly moving relationship.

From the outside, you seemed like an unlikely pair—the hardened lawyer and the soft-spoken woman who could hold her own.

One evening, as you were curled up on the couch, Harvey walked in with a smug look, holding a beautifully wrapped package. You opened it to find a first-edition, signed copy of Pride and Prejudice. Your breath caught in your throat, and tears welled up in your eyes.

"You're impossible," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

He smirked, that familiar, cocky grin that you had once found infuriating. "I know. But I figured if you're going to read it a hundred times, you might as well have the best version."

But it wasn't just grand gestures that defined your relationship. It was the little things, too. Harvey Specter, the man who never took vacations, now planned trips with you. 

There were weekends in Paris, strolling along the Seine, his hand never leaving yours. "I still can't believe you convinced me to leave work for this," he'd say, a hint of sarcasm in his voice, though his eyes told a different story.  Ever the cynic, Harvey made a dry remark about how clichéd it all was, but he couldn't hide the contentment in his eyes.

In Italy, you spent lazy afternoons in Tuscany, the sun setting over rolling hills as you shared a bottle of wine. He'd pull you close, his voice soft with a rare vulnerability. "I used to think vacations were a waste of time. Turns out, they're only a waste when you're not with the right person."

Your second trip to Italy, you wandered through the sun-drenched streets of Florence, hand in hand, exploring hidden cafes and ancient art galleries. You spent lazy afternoons by the Arno River, his head resting in your lap as you read aloud from your latest favorite book.

Then, there was the spontaneous weekend in Iceland, where you marveled at the otherworldly landscapes and soaked in the Blue Lagoon's geothermal waters. He held you close under the Northern Lights, the vibrant colors reflecting in his eyes, making him look almost vulnerable.

But perhaps the most heart-wrenching moment was in a small cabin in the Swiss Alps. Harvey, who always seemed invincible, opened up about his fears and insecurities, his voice breaking as he confessed how much he needed you. "I used to think needing someone was a weakness," he said, his eyes searching yours. "But now I realize that needing you is what makes me stronger."

Harvey would often lie awake at night, his arms wrapped tightly around you, whispering in the darkness. "I wasted so much time fighting my feelings, fighting us. But now, every day with you feels like a gift I don't deserve."

You never knew what to expect from him. One moment, he could be the most ruthless shark at work, and the next, he was looking at you with a softness that made your knees weak. It was a roller coaster ride, but one you were more than willing to take because, in the end, it was worth it. 

He was worth it.

Every moment with Harvey was tinged with a sense of bittersweet reality. You knew him well enough to understand his fears, his regrets, and the heavy burden he carried. But you also saw the man who was trying to learn to let go and embrace the chaotic beauty of life with you.

But your favorite moments with Harvey didn't include luxurious vacations to impress you- your favorite moments were spending countless weekends perusing the aisles of your favorite record shop. Your fingers brushed against the edges of vinyl sleeves as you searched for hidden gems. Your shared ritual solidified your connection. Harvey's discerning eye for classics and your discovering new sounds meant your combined collection grew rapidly, each new addition a testament to your time together. Your apartment shelves were overflowing with albums, a delightful problem to have. Every record held a memory, a piece of your evolving love story.

Dating Harvey was everything you never knew you wanted.

Your relationship was a beautiful paradox.

It was heart-wrenching and healing, cynical and hopeful.

He was an experience that challenged you, changed you, and ultimately made you believe that even the most guarded hearts could find hope in each other.

It was a discovery journey, learning to trust and love deeply, even when it hurt. It was a reminder that sometimes, the most unexpected relationships could be the most beautiful, filled with heart-wrenching and healing moments.

He would pause inside of you, his eyes bore into your own, and he would answer, no. No, he wouldn't.

You weren't sure if he was trying to reassure you or himself.

The second time, he answered you as he took his time, and his movements were slow and tender. He was a different man in those moments.

The third time, he was so desperate for you that he almost didn't have the chance to answer; he was so distracted with trying to be inside you again.

You would have asked again, but he had pulled you to him, his lips kissing yours and his arms around your body, keeping you safe, either avoiding the question or comforting you. 

———————-

You were getting ready for the wedding, and you couldn't help but remember those nights with Harvey as a shaky reminder of what you were both about to do. 

The grand hall of the Waldorf Astoria was a chaos of last-minute preparations. Florists darted about, making final adjustments to bouquets, while caterers set up an opulent spread that screamed old-money elegance. Guests in their best evening attire trickled in, excited to celebrate the love of their close friends. But inside the bride's suite, the atmosphere was anything but celebratory.

You stood before a full-length mirror, your reflection a pristine vision in white lace and satin. Yet, your hands shook as you fussed with the delicate veil, betraying the storm inside your mind. Doubts crashed over you. Was this truly what Harvey wanted? The man who treated vulnerability like a disease—could he be ready for something as permanent as marriage?

Your Maid of Honor sauntered over, her sharp eyes missing nothing. Donna placed a firm hand on your shoulder. "Alright, spill. What's rattling around in that pretty head of yours?"

You bit your lip, struggling to keep your composure. "Donna, what if... what if he's only doing this because he thinks it's what I want? What if he doesn't really want this?"

Donna's gaze softened, "You know Harvey. He doesn't do anything he doesn't want to. But if it'll put your mind at ease, I'll drag him in here myself. He loves you so much."

You nodded, feeling a knot of gratitude and anxiety twist in your stomach. Donna squeezed your hand reassuringly before striding out with purpose.

————————

Harvey stood still, his reflection in the mirror embodying perfect composure. He had anticipated the usual jitters and nagging doubts from this life-altering moment. Instead, an unsettling calm enveloped him, a peaceful tide. This was uncharted territory for him, and this is how he knew he was sure this is why he was making the right choice.

A sharp knock at the door. Harvey's breath hitched. "Who is it?"

The door burst open, and Donna stood in the doorway. Her maid-of-honor dress didn't soften the concern and fury in her eyes. 

"Harvey," she said, her voice low and urgent. "We need to talk. Now."

His gaze flickered between Donna and the mirror. "Can this wait?" he managed. "I'm kind of in the middle of something here."

Donna arched her eyebrow. "Trust me, Harvey, this can't wait. We've got a situation."

A flicker of irritation crossed his face, quickly replaced by curiosity. "Define 'situation'," he replied.

Donna's expression hardened. "Your bride is contemplating a runaway. Move it. Now."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Harvey's face, a carefully constructed facade of confidence, cracked. Without a word, he was out the door, Donna right behind him. The corridor stretched out before them, an endless expanse of white carpet and pink and gold accents. Silence stretched between them, heavy and oppressive.

Thoughts of abandonment clawed at him, the image of you leaving him at the altar playing on a loop. Panic surged, tightening its grip around his chest. 

What if she changed her mind? What if she couldn't bear the weight of this commitment? 

Each step felt like a mile, the distance between hope and despair widening with every heartbeat.

He glanced at Donna, her expression unreadable, but he could sense the concern radiating off her. 

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. 

He had fought for this moment against every instinct that told him to run. Now, the very idea of losing you felt like a betrayal of everything he had worked to build.

"Harvey?" Donna finally broke the silence, her voice a gentle nudge against his spiraling thoughts. "Are you okay?"

He gave a nod, even as the truth seemed it was swallowing him. "Yeah, I just… I need a minute." He stepped to the side, trying to steady his racing heart. 

What if you were waiting for him, ready to walk away?

The weight of uncertainty pressed down on him, and for the first time, his confidence felt like a fragile mask. 

Would he be able to face you if you chose to leave? 

The thought was unbearable. He had to find a way to pull himself together—because losing you was not an option he could accept.

He stood beside the door, knocking softly. His back was to the door while you faced it, speaking through the solid barrier. Only doubt lay between you. Harvey broke when he heard the anxiety in your voice. He reached out, sliding his hand through the narrow gap beside the door, and gently squeezed yours.

"You're not supposed to see the bride before the wedding, Harvey." 

"Since when have you been into doing anything traditional?" He laughs, trying to break the tension. 

"Harvey," you began, your voice shaky. "I'm scared. What if this isn't really what you want? Marriage, the future—it's all so... permanent."

"Are you kidding me?" he said, voice low and intense. "You think I'd be here if I wasn't sure?"

He rubbed his thumb over your hand."  I've spent years dodging anything that looked like commitment. But you? You changed everything. You changed me. This isn't about doing what you want or what I think you want. It's about us."

He gripped your hand. "I want this. I want you. Not because it's easy or convenient but because it's real. And, yeah, it scares the hell out of me, too, but I'm not backing down."

Tears pricked your eyes, but they were from relief. "You really mean that?"

"You're all I'll ever want. Now you tell me, do you want this?" 

"More than anything, Harvey." 

You both waited a few minutes, letting the emotions subside, letting the weight of the moment take hold.

"Then we're getting married today." You could feel the tears in his voice.

You couldn't help but smile, the excitement bubbling in your chest.

————————

When the ceremony started, your hands were sweaty. Your stomach was in knots. 

And then you saw him.

He always looked handsome, but today, he was devastating. And he was yours. 

His eyes were locked and you forgot everything else. You forgot about how your life would change. You forgot about your fears. You forgot everything but him.

————————

At the reception, the air was filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and the quiet of conversations. You and Harvey made your rounds, greeting guests and basking in the warmth of their well-wishes. When the band played a slow song, Harvey took your hand, leading you to the dance floor.

"You look beautiful," he murmured, pulling you close.

You smiled, resting your head against his chest. "And you look ridiculously handsome. As always."

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through you. "Guess we're stuck with each other now."

"A tragedy."

His arm tightened around you, and he kissed the top of your head.

He leaned in, his rich baritone voice vibrating in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

"I've waited my whole life for this moment, to hold you like this,' he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "I can't wait to take you home as my wife."

"Thank you," you said softly, your fingers tracing his jaw line.

"For what?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"For being you. For showing up. For believing in us."

He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. "Always."

———————

At one point, Mike took the mic to deliver a toast.

"Here's to Harvey and his obsession with perfection," Mike said, raising his glass. "May he finally realize that he found it in you."

-----------------

It's your wedding night with Harvey Specter, the kind of night that feels like a movie—a whirlwind of vows, laughter, and champagne bubbles still dancing in the air. The day has drained you, but the fatigue begins to melt away in that luxurious hotel suite. You sink into the deep, claw-foot tub, letting the warm water envelop you like a gentle embrace, the scent of lavender filling the air, mixing with the day's memories.

After a long soak, you meticulously apply your favorite lotions, their silky texture gliding over your skin—a ritual of indulgence that prepares you for this intimate moment. You slip into the white lingerie you picked for Harvey—a delicate lace number that hugs your curves just right. It's not just fabric; it's a statement, a secret whisper meant solely for him.

Harvey is sprawled on the bed, his pristine tuxedo a sharp contrast against the soft linens, the dim light catching the edge of his jawline, highlighting the contours that have become so familiar. He's buried in a book, the kind of legal thriller that usually keeps him up at night, and you're surprised to find him having a moment of peace. When he looks up and catches sight of you, it's as if the entire room shifts. His eyes blaze with a spark that ignites a fire deep within you.

"God, you're beautiful. C'mere," he breathes, his voice low and rich, laced with a hunger that makes your heart race. The way he says it is more than a compliment; it's an invitation, a promise of what's to come, as you step closer, feeling the gravity of the moment pulling you into his orbit.

You climb into the bed and crawl over him until you're straddling him. Your white lingerie contrasts with the black of his tux and the white of his crisp shirt, and it feels very appropriate for the occasion. His hands caress your body, and he looks up at you with a soft smile. "I can't believe you're finally mine."

You bend down to give him a kiss. "All yours."

He pulls you down to lie next to him, running his fingers along your face and through your hair. "I never thought this day would come."

You smile. "Me neither."

His fingers trace over the lace at your neckline, and his eyes follow them. "How did I get so lucky? What did I ever do to deserve someone like you?"

You put your hand over his. "I'm the lucky one."

He looks up at you and kisses you again, softly and slowly. It's so lovely and sweet.

When he pulls away, he asks, "Did you mean what you said in your vows?"

You smile. "Yes. I love you, Harvey."

He kisses you. "I love you, too."

He's quiet for a few minutes, his eyes roaming over your face, taking you in. He smiles. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

You grin and shake your head. "Harvey..."

"You are. You're so beautiful. And I can't believe you chose me." He gives you another kiss.

"Of course I did. I'd choose you every time."

"I choose you every time. In every universe," he says

He kisses you, his tongue slipping into your mouth, and then he rolls on top of you. "You know what I've always wanted to do?"

"What?" you ask.

"Take off my wife's wedding lingerie."

"Oh, that's right," you say with a grin.

He smiles. "Can I?"

"Please," you answer.

He gets to his knees and sits between your legs. His hands caress up your thighs, over your stomach and breasts, and then his fingertips graze back down your arms, making your skin erupt in goosebumps. His hands return to your lingerie, and his fingers slide under the straps, pulling them down and leaving a trail of kisses where the straps had been.

"I'm so happy," he says.

"Me, too."

You reach out for his jacket and start pulling it off his shoulders.

He shakes his head. "Uh-uh."

"But I want to see you, too."

"Later." He goes back to undressing you, slowly pulling down the lace and kissing every inch of skin he reveals.

"Harvey..."

And how he looks at you in this moment is unlike any other. His eyes are soft, his smile is relaxed and open, and he's completely vulnerable, and he is yours.

He kisses his way back up to your mouth, and it's so sweet and gentle, but there's something behind it, too. He's hungry for you, and the more he kisses you, the more desperate he gets. His hands grip your face, your neck, your shoulder, and then down to your breasts. You arch into him, wanting more, needing more.

You feel him growing hard against you, his cock pressing into your thigh as he deepens the kiss. He's breathing harder, his tongue is exploring your mouth, and his hands are everywhere.

Your arms are wrapped around his back, holding him close, and you let your hands drift down until they're slipping under the back of his tuxedo pants.

"Harvey, please."

"Mmm," he mumbles against your lips.

You pull your hands out of his pants and grab the back of his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders.

He lets out a soft laugh, helps you get it off, then tosses it onto the floor. He goes back to kissing you while his fingers start unbuttoning his shirt.

You help him get it off and throw it on the floor, too, and then your hands go to his pants. You unbutton and unzip them and slide your hand in the back, feeling his ass.

"Mmm," he hums, and his hips grind against you.

"Please."

"Soon, baby," he says, and then he's kissing you again, his hands on your face.

His cock is rock hard, and he's grinding against you. His hips are moving in circles, and you're so wet and ready.

He pulls away and looks down at you. His eyes are hooded, and his breath is heavy. "Fuck, I want you."

"Harvey…"

"I will. But first..." He starts kissing down your body. His mouth trails down the middle of your chest, over your stomach, and then his tongue dips inside your belly button, making you gasp.

His lips are so soft against your skin, and when he gets to your pussy, his eyes are looking up at you, asking permission.

"Please, Harvey. Yes. I'm yours."

"Fuck yes, you are," as his hands pull down what's left of your lingerie, and he throws it on the floor with everything else. He leans forward and places a kiss on the inside of each of your thighs, and then his tongue is on your clit.

You gasp, your head falling back, and then you look down at him. He's so sexy, with his hair all messed up.

He flicks his tongue against you and then licks the length of your pussy, his eyes on yours the entire time.

"Harvey," you moan.

He keeps going, licking, sucking, nibbling. Your hands go to his hair, grasping, pulling.

He hums against your skin, and it vibrates through your body.

"Harvey...please..."

He doesn't stop.

"I need you," you whine.

His tongue enters you, and he moans.

You buck against him, wanting more, but he's holding you down.

He keeps licking, his tongue slipping inside and out and then back on your clit.

You try to move again, and this time, he lets you.

You thrust against his mouth, your clit rubbing against his lips. He sucks it into his mouth, and you cry out.

"That's it," he murmurs. "Cum for me."

"Harvey!"

His mouth is on you, his tongue circling around, and he slides a finger inside you.

You grip his hair tighter, and then your orgasm is building. Your body is tense, your breath is ragged, and he's so good at this, and you're so ready, and then his fingers are curling inside you, and you're cumming, crying out, pulling his hair, shaking.

When you're done, you collapse back onto the bed, panting.

"Mrs. Specter," Harvey says in awe. 

You smile, and he climbs up your body and kisses you.

"I can't believe you're mine."

"I can't believe you're mine."

"Always, sweetheart. Always," his lips are on yours, and he's rolling his hips. His cock is hard and pressing against you.

You reach between the two of you and take him in your hand, stroking him, and then he's positioning himself at your entrance.

"Tell me you're mine," he says.

"Always," you answer.

"Say it."

"I'm yours, Harvey. I'm yours."

He kisses you and enters you.

You both moan, and his forehead rests against yours as he slowly fills you.

"Baby," he whispers.

"Mmm," you hum, your hands resting on his back.

"You're mine."

"I'm yours."

He slowly moves his hips in and out.

"God, Harvey. I love you."

"Love you, baby. Love you so much."

"I'm all yours. Forever."

"Forever," and he kisses you again, his tongue entering your mouth as he moves inside you.

He picks up the pace, his cock thrusting into you, and then his hand slips between the two of you, and he's circling your clit with his thumb.

You moan, and his mouth is on yours.

You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him closer, and his hand is in your hair, pulling.

"Fuck, Harvey," and your orgasm is building again.

He kisses your neck, licking, sucking, biting, and then his voice is in your ear. "Cum for me, sweetheart."

His cock is thrusting inside you, his thumb is rubbing your clit, and his breath is hot on your skin, and then his voice is telling you he loves you, and you're falling apart.

You cry out, your nails digging into his skin, your legs tightening around him, and then he's cumming, too, his cock throbbing, his mouth on your neck, his breathing ragged.

"Harvey, yes," and you're riding out the wave with him.

After, you're both still. His lips are on your neck, and his arms are wrapped around you. You can feel him inside you and never want him to leave.

"Harvey," you whisper.

"Mmm," he mumbles.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

You run your hands up and down his back, and he kisses your neck lovingly.

"I'm yours, Harvey."

He raises his head to look at you. "Always."

You smile. "Always."

He kisses you, his cock still inside you. He starts to move his hips, and then he's hard again.

You gasp, and he's kissing you.

"Ready?" he asks.

"God, yes," you answer, and then he's moving inside you.

I'm sorry. I just can't tonight.

The reply came almost instantly, sharper than you expected.

Fine. See you at home.

You tossed the phone aside and curled up on the bed, a silent tear escaping down your cheek. The cramps were relentless, twisting and turning inside you, making it impossible to think about anything else. The minutes dragged by; each felt like an eternity of discomfort and guilt.

When you finally heard the door click open, you braced yourself. Harvey's footsteps were measured, the usual confident stride tinged with weariness. He stopped at the bedroom door, his eyes narrowing as he saw you curled up in bed, your face pale and drawn.

"Really?" he said, his voice exasperated. "You couldn't just power through it for one night?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a choked sob. The anger in Harvey's eyes flickered, confusion replacing it as he saw the tear-streaked evidence of your pain.

"Hey, what's going on?" His tone softened, but the tension remained.

"I—" you started, but another wave of cramps cut you off, a groan escaping your lips instead.

Harvey's expression shifted, the frustration melting into concern. He crossed the room in two strides, gently touching your forehead. "You're burning up," he said.

"I'm fine," you whispered, but your body betrayed you, another tear slipping free.

"Bullshit," he muttered, his hand moving to your abdomen, feeling your body tense at his touch. "Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?"

"I didn't want to ruin your plans," you said, barely audible. "I know how important tonight was."

Harvey's jaw tightened, a muscle jumping in his cheek. He let out a slow breath, his eyes closing for a moment. When he opened them, the anger was gone, replaced by something protective and unguarded.

"Plans can be rescheduled. You can't be replaced," he said, his voice cracking slightly.

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing," he said, his tone gentler now. He took out his phone and typed quickly. "I'm texting Ray and Donna. I'll have them get something for you."

"What are you doing?" you asked, confusion mingling with the pain.

"Ray's picking up a new heating pad," he replied, a determined glint in his eye. "And some herbal tea Donna swears by."

—————————-

Just minutes later, Ray arrived with more than just a heating pad. There was a massage therapist, an on-call doctor, and a chef. The therapist quickly set up a massage table in the living room while the chef prepared a fortifying meal.

Harvey orchestrated it all with a precision that was both overwhelming and comforting. He sat by your side, his hand never leaving yours as he ensured everything was perfect.

"Harvey, this is too much," you whispered, watching the flurry of activity around you.

"Nothing is too much for you," he said firmly. "I want you to feel better, whatever it takes."

The massage therapist worked on your tense muscles, easing the cramps with expert hands. The chef prepared a comforting meal tailored to ease your discomfort. The doctor provided medication that dulled the pain to a bearable level. 

Then, Harvey disappeared for a moment, returning with a familiar tea set. It was Jessica's tea set, the one you had fawned over on your first visit to his office. He had bought it for you, begrudgingly, feeling it was a childish indulgence. But now, seeing it in his hands, you felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the tea.

"I thought you might want this," he said, a small, almost sheepish smile on his lips. "I know I didn't get it back then, but… I get it now."

Your eyes welled up again, but this time, they were tears of gratitude. "Thank you, Harvey."

He carefully poured the tea, his movements surprisingly graceful, and handed you a delicate cup. The warmth of the tea seeped into your hands, and you took a small sip, feeling the soothing effects almost immediately. The tea was actually decent. Strong and bitter, but with a surprising undercurrent of sweetness, much like Harvey. He probably made Ray or Donna get it from some obscure tea shop across town.

You couldn't help but laugh at the irony of it all. The man who could command any room looked like a lost puppy with this stupid thing, but he looked adorable, like your own porcelain doll playing with tea. 

"You look like you're about to have a tea party with your teddy bear," you smirked, taking another sip. "I didn't know you had such a dainty side, tough guy."

He glared, a playful edge to his expression. "Shut up. This is how civilized people relax."

"Civilized people don't order their underlings to fetch them tea," you retorted.

"Underlings? More like personal assistants," he corrected, a smirk creeping onto his face. "And you're welcome."

"I love you, thank you," you smiled gratefully. 

Harvey's usual suave demeanor was replaced by a tender focus. He climbed into bed beside you, his arms wrapping around you protectively, his warmth seeping into your aching body.

"I'm sorry I snapped," he murmured into your hair. "I just… I hate seeing you like this."

You turned in his arms, pressing your forehead against his chest. "I know. Thank you."

"No, thank you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "For letting me take care of you."

You lay there in the dim light, the weight of the day lifting as Harvey held you close, his heartbeat steady against your ear. The plans, the reservations, and the fancy dinner faded into insignificance against the quiet, powerful love that filled the room.

After your husband's death, Jessica Pearson offers you a lifeline at Pearson Specter as an archivist. There, you meet Harvey Specter, whose charm initially draws you in. You become friends, but his emotional unavailability soon turns your relationship into a battlefield. Every interaction is charged with unresolved tension, making you enemies.

As you work together, the push-and-pull intensifies, and beneath the heated arguments, a deeper connection forms. Both haunted by your pasts, you struggle to break down each other's walls. The love story is a gritty, slow-burn journey filled with angst and healing, as two broken souls find solace and redemption in each other. Will Harvey welcome you into his life as a colleague or something more?

Originally based on @dipperscavern post, I wouldn't have written this without her idea! Thank you, Dippy!

This is an almost 50k word ANGSTY and painful story with a happy ending! Read at your own risk!

The one you couldn't stop obsessing over for weeks after seeing him in it. The one that makes you feel deliciously naughty and daring whenever you ask him to wear it. The one that appeases you to wear all the lingerie for him when all you ask is to wear the black robe every now and then. 

The one that transforms him into a high priest at the temple of Harvey, where your body is the altar. The one that seems almost ridiculous until you catch the look in his eyes, and suddenly, you're more than ready to worship him.

The black robe he's let you wear from time to time. Like that unforgettable night, you FaceTimed him wearing it in bed while he was away, and he told you exactly what he wanted you to do with it. The time you snuck it into your suitcase for a weekend getaway, he found you lounging in it, waiting for him. Or the night you draped it over your shoulders while you sipped wine on the balcony, feeling his presence even in his absence. The time you wore nothing but that robe and those heels he loves, just to see his jaw drop.

That soft, plush, black robe that makes his eyes look even more piercing. The black robe he looks so damn good in. The one that holds a thousand memories and a thousand more to come. The robe that makes you feel like you're starring in your own private fantasy. The robe that makes you weak at the knees, just from the way he ties it. The robe you've come to adore because it's not just a robe—it's the beginning of every intoxicating adventure with him.

The black robe you tugged on playfully as you teased him, laughing at the way it made you feel both powerful and utterly submissive. The robe that absorbs his scent, making you feel closer to him even when he's away. The black robe that has been witness to everything your body has to offer to Harvey. 

That time, you challenged him, wearing the robe and nothing else, to see who would break first. Or when he walked in on you wearing his robe, sprawled out on the couch, flipping through a magazine as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The night you slipped into it after an argument, a peace offering that was more in your favor than his. 

And the way he looks at you when you wear it, a blend of desire and amusement, knowing exactly how much power that simple garment holds over you. The black robe that turns every moment into a tantalizing game, every glance into a promise, and every touch into a thrill. The black robe that you love almost as much as the man who wears it.

Yes, yes, yes. That black robe. 

He stands by the bed, watching you sleep as you gradually awaken.

You stir, your senses slowly awakening. Harvey leans in, his gaze intense. With a gentle touch, he captures your chin and deepens the kiss. The soft caress of his robe against your skin ignites a spark of intimacy. His loosely tied belt hints at what lies beneath, leaving you breathless with anticipation.

He begins to remove his robe, but you stop him, slowly untying the belt.

"Leave it on," you say, looking up at him and biting your lower lip.

Harvey nods and doesn't touch his robe but lets it open for you. You take his cock in your hands and begin stroking him.

You put him in your mouth and look up at him. His hair is still wet, and droplets glisten on his skin. You can taste the water on him, and it tastes clean. Harvey's hand is running through your hair, and his moans are quiet. 

You lick your lips around his shaft.

Harvey is standing over you, and his body is warm. You are on your knees before him, and his cock is in your mouth. You have your hands on his hips and his are in your hair.

"Fuck..." Harvey moans and his eyes flutter shut. "So good."

You're on all fours on the bed, Harvey standing in front of you, sucking his cock and looking up at him, watching his face as he feels your tongue run up and down his shaft.

"Yes," Harvey moans, and he grabs the back of your head, pushing you down his cock. "Suck me, baby."

You start to suck him harder and faster. Harvey moans louder and pushes his cock deep into your mouth, holding you by the hair and not letting you go.

"So good," Harvey whispers, his voice low and quiet. "So good. Fuck."

You pull him out of your mouth and stroke his cock, kissing and swirling the tip of it, making Harvey moan louder. You can tell he's close, so you put him back in your mouth and start sucking him hard and fast.

It's always so good, though.

Your lips around the head of his cock, your tongue teasing the sensitive underside of the crown, your hands in your hair but not gripping, just feeling the hot-wet-velvet slide as you suck him deep. He's so vocal. He's loud. He can't stop swearing. You can feel him trying to keep his hips still, and you appreciate the effort. The effort not to hold you still and fuck your mouth, and the effort to let you stay in control, do what you want.

You look up and find him staring down at you, looking right into your eyes, and he bites his lip and moans, and he tastes so good, and you're getting so wet, and you reach down to rub at yourself. You need to, so badly.

"Fuck, yeah, that's it," he murmurs. 

His eyes are half-lidded, dark with pleasure, and you love watching him lose it.

He's close. He's going to come.

"I'm gonna…," he says like he can read your mind.

"Do it," you tell him, and you take him as deep as you can, and his hand grips your hair a little tighter, and then his cock pulses, and you can taste him on your tongue, and it's so fucking good, the way he groans when he comes.

When you finally let him go, he looks blissed out.

He looks beautiful. His robe is still partially open, his eyes are closed, his cheeks are flushed, his lips are swollen, and he looks perfect.

He falls to the bed and takes a deep breath. You climb up beside him, and he wraps his arms around you and kisses you deeply.

"Good morning," he says, and it's quiet and soft, and he's still trying to catch his breath.

"Good morning," you answer and kiss him again.

You love this.

Harvey kisses you softly, and he rolls you onto your back, pushing his hand into your panties.

You moan and bite your lip, looking up at him as his fingers tease your folds.

You start taking off his robe while he's kissing you on top of you.

"No, leave it on," he moans against your mouth.

Harvey's fingers slip inside of you.

You moan and close your eyes.

"Oh, fuck..." you whimper as Harvey starts exploring your most intimate places, caressing and teasing with expert precision, drawing out waves of pleasure with every touch.

He starts kissing your neck, and you tilt your head back, giving him access.

He bites and sucks, like tiny explosions on your skin, and your hand tangles in his hair, pulling his face closer to you.

"Fuck..."

You hold on to his shoulders. The robe is hanging open, and you can feel the fabric on your skin. The plush robe gently caresses your skin, its soft, velvety texture creating a delightful contrast against your body. 

Harvey's fingers are pumping into you, and his thumb is rubbing your clit. You're getting so close, and his fingers are working their magic.

"I'm gonna come," you say, and Harvey's teeth sink into your neck.

You arch your back and scream, and you can hear him moaning, too, his fingers still pumping into you.

"I'm coming," you moan, and Harvey pulls his fingers out of you and pushes his cock into you, driving himself into you while you clench around him. You groan even louder, your hands gripping his shoulders, "Fuck, Harvey, you're making me cum," you moan.

"Yeah," he moans, thrusting into you, "Fuck, fuck, you feel so good, you're so wet and tight,"

"Oh, god, yes," you moan, and his lips are on your neck, his tongue licking and sucking and biting.

"Oh, fuck, Harvey," you moan, and your whole body is shaking.

Harvey grabs your hair and pulls your head back, and you can feel his lips on your throat.

"Keep coming for me," he growls, and you moan and arch your back.

"Fuck, Harvey, oh my god," you moan, clenching around his cock, and he moans loudly, and his body is shaking, and he's coming inside of you.

He collapses on top of you, and you wrap your arms around him and hold him close.

"That was amazing," you say, and Harvey grins and kisses your forehead.

"It was the robe," he laughs and kisses you again.

He pulls out of you, falls onto his back, and pulls you into his arms.

"You feel like a big teddy bear with this thing on," you say, nuzzling his neck.

"I thought it was a kinky thing," Harvey chuckles.

"It is, but it's also cute."

"Well, you can call me a teddy bear whenever you want."

"Oh, so that's why you left it on," you tease.

The windows are already fogged.

Harvey Specter fucks you in the back of one of his vintage cars. You have no idea what kind of car it is; you've never been able to tell them apart. There's no way you'd be able to remember that, anyway, with his cock inside you and his hips thrusting into you so hard. He's fucking you like he's on a schedule, and this is the only time he's got, his fingers gripping your ass as he yanks you into him, slamming against you again and again.

You don't have the best angle, not really, but god, it feels good. It's hard and fast and rough and exactly what you wanted. You're both still mostly clothed, which is unusual for Harvey. Maybe that's why it feels like this. Your bra is on but dress around your ankles, and panties pushed to the side. Harvey's pants are hanging open, and his jacket's thrown to the side, his forearms exposed, his tie is loose.

You know he'll want to clean the car after this, though, because there's no way he can leave it looking like this. He can't. You've already made a mess, though, your arousal dripping down your thighs and soaking into the leather seats.

"God, you're wet," he says, voice husky in your ear. "Do you love getting fucked by me?”

"Yes," you breathe. "So much.”

"Fuck," he swears, hips picking up speed.

You gasp, hands sliding across the leather seats. Your palms are sweaty, and you can't find a good grip, so you grab the handle above the window. You're going to leave a handprint on it.

"Harvey," you moan. “Please."

He doesn't even hesitate. He's always willing to do what you ask, especially when it's like this. He slides his fingers over your clit, pressing firmly as he starts to circle his fingers. You cry out, body going tense. You're right there. It's not going to take long, not with him filling you up and the pleasure radiating from his fingers.

"Oh, god," you say. "Harvey, I'm gonna-“

"I know," he says. "Do it. Come for me.”

It hits you like a freight train, making your vision go black and your breath catch. You shake against him, fingers tightening their grip.

"That's it," he says. "Keep coming.”

He doesn't give you a break, fucking you hard and rubbing your clit faster. The pleasure is too much; it's overwhelming, and you can't catch your breath. You're gasping for air, unable to take it all in, and it feels like it goes on forever. It's almost too intense to handle.

You can feel it all. It's dripping out of you, and you're sure that you've made a mess of the seat and Harvey's pants.

His thrusts get uneven, jerky, and then he buries himself deep inside you and comes. You can feel the heat of it, the way he pulses and fills you up.

When he's done, he doesn't pull out of you. He doesn't pull his hand away, either. He keeps it right where it is, holding you tight against him.

"God," you murmur, trying to make your body relax.

He chuckles, turning his head to press a kiss to your neck.

"Are you ready for more?" he asks.

You nod, closing your eyes. “Yes."

The city was a blur outside Harvey Specter's office window. He sat behind his desk, the weight of his past burdening his shoulders. The familiar ache in his chest resurfaced, a ghost of the boy who grew up too fast, who learned to mask pain with arrogance.

Harvey's mind wandered back to his father. The melodies Gordon's old saxophone, now silent, haunted him. He remembered the night his mother left, the way his father tried to console him with music, the notes falling flat against the silence of their home. He had been so young, so helpless. He buried that vulnerability deep under layers of suits and false bravado.

He clenched his jaw, anger flaring at the helplessness he once felt. That boy was gone, replaced by the man who won every fight but lost the war within. Donna's voice echoed in his mind - her gentle concern, her unwavering support. She saw through him, saw the scars he hid. But even her faith couldn't erase the wounds that frothed beneath his polished exterior.

The file on his desk blurred as he blinked away the burning in his eyes. He stood abruptly, startled by the unwelcomed vulnerability. He walked to the window to place his hand on the cold glass, to feel anything but the heartbreak in that moment. The city, with all its noise and chaos, couldn't drown out the silence of his grief.

Harvey Specter, whose name carried weight in every courtroom in NYC, stood alone. He conquered every legal challenge, but facing his vulnerability and grief was a battle he never saw coming.