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semisgroupie · 2 years

Text

unethical techniques

scumbag lawyer!gin ichimaru x lawyer!fem. reader (ft. serial killer!aizen)

word count: 7.0k

warnings: noncon drugging, blackmail, noncon recording, aphrodisiac use, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, public sex, fingering (f! receiving), mentions of murder, use of legal jargon, consumption of alcohol, spit, praise, reader is called sweetheart

synopsis: never wander into the lion’s den, you’ll never like what’s inside

a/n: this is for my love and my heart @maitaro’s FAME collab! Please check out the other amazing works and thank you so much for letting me join! And this fic takes the cake for being my longest fic!!

PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE YOU READ THIS FIC I DO NOT CONDONE OR APPROVE OF THIS BEHAVIOR THIS IS SOLELY A FICTIONAL PIECE AGAIN PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS THOROUGHLY BEFORE READING THIS FIC

You always wondered how Gin Ichimaru was able to have such a high success rate with cases. Even against the best prosecutors he would come out on top. Hell, his client could confess on the witness stand and he’d still win the case. It didn’t make sense to you, it never made sense. You even hired private investigators to sit in during the trials you couldn’t attend and hired them to follow him around and they would come back with nothing. Then when you would sit in during his trials you couldn’t pinpoint his technique, you just saw it as weird. But whenever he made eye contact with you or just looked in your direction you felt a chill run down your spine. It was all unusual and you just couldn’t figure it out from just being a viewer.

So, when you were given a case that he was involved in you saw it as a way to finally have all your questions answered.

You looked through all the documents of the case and you grew horrified at the gory details. You’ve handled murderers and serial killers before but this one gave you the creeps. Then it really bothered you when you saw his photo, he looked like a normal guy, like a guy you’ve passed by on the street hundreds of times. But of course Gin would be his lawyer, scum attracts scum.

Over the course of a couple of weeks you set up meetings with all the detectives working on the case and wrote up a list of possible witnesses you could use during the trial. You met with some of the family members of the victims and after 3 weeks of interviews and meetings it finally came to the day where you would meet the defendant and his attorney. You had to drive to the maximum security prison where he was currently housed since his bail was remanded due to the nature of his crimes and since he posed a high risk of reoffending if bail was set.

You sighed as you parked in front of the maximum security prison, you’ve been here quite a few times over the course of your short career but as you got out of your car and walked to the entrance you felt a cold chill run down your spine. You opened the door and clutched your briefcase tighter as you walked to the security check. You greeted the correction officer there and set everything down on the conveyor belt.

“Hello Miss L/N, who are you here to see today? And if you just came to see me you could just call, I could show you that I can dress up fancy too.” You laughed at his words and shook your head. He was a nice older man that had always kept a close eye on you whenever you came to visit an inmate and always had chocolates to give you once you were done with your visits. It’s been three years since you first met him and he had shown you nothing but kindness and always found a way to lighten your mood whether it was through harmless flirtatious comments or fatherly wisdom and advice.

“No, no Mr. Hiro. I wish I was here to visit you and what did I tell you about being so formal? Please just call me by my name. I’m here to visit Sosuke Aizen and his lawyer, they want to try to discuss a plea deal before the trial starts.” The normally crinkly eyed smile that was on Mr. Hiro’s face dropped once he heard the name fall from your lips and he grabbed your wrist to pull you close before you walked through the metal detector.

“Please drop this case or hand it down to another attorney in your office Y/N. That man is no good and neither is his snake of a lawyer. I’ve worked in this prison for 10 years and saw the worst of the worst but this guy is no joke, he’s the worst of them all. Please, just turn back now and forget all about this case. Nothing good is bound to happen.” Worry oozed through his words and your eyes widened. Was this man really that bad?

“Don’t worry Mr. Hiro, I’ll be fine. I have spoken to some of the families of the victims and they are putting all their trust in me to put this asshole in the electric chair, I have to do it. I’m the only one in my office with an almost perfect win record. If I feel threatened or endangered in any way I promise I will drop this case and hand it to one of my colleagues.” You placed your hand over his and gently squeezed it as a form of reassurance but he just shook his head and let go of your wrist.

“Just please be careful, you’re like a daughter to me and I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you.” You hugged him tightly and nodded before going through the metal detector and heading to the security desk to get your visitor’s pass. Your heels clicked against the floor as you made your way to the elevator and once you reached the floor where the room for the meeting was located you felt the chill run up your spine again. You shook off any nerves and you made your way to the room. Once you reached it you saw two large corrections officers standing on each side of the door and you nodded at them and took out your identification.

“Hello, I’m the state attorney for this case. Is the prisoner inside?”

One of the men nodded and pointed to the window, “his lawyer is inside too.”

You walked over to the one way mirror and saw both men. One with brown hair and wore a blue prison jumpsuit, signaling to you that he was a dangerous felon and the man next to him was someone you easily recognized. Gin Ichimaru. His silver hair was pushed back neatly and he wore a suit that was extremely expensive. You sighed as you looked at them then made your way back to the door.

“The inmate is handcuffed to the table and once you are done just knock on the door or window twice and we’ll let you out, we’ll keep a close eye on you while you are inside just in case he tries to become violent.” With that one of the officers opened the door and you made your way inside.

“Good morning gentlemen, my name is Y/N L/N and I am the prosecutor assigned to this case. I am here because you and your attorney would like to make a plea deal” you sat down in the chair across from the two men and you burned under their gazes. You set your briefcase on the table and opened it up to take out the file you had and opened it up. “Mr. Aizen, you are on trial for twelve counts of capital murder, thirteen counts of kidnapping, one count of attempted murder, twelve counts of abuse of a corpse and one count of resisting arrest. With all these charges you will most likely be sentenced to death, what would you like to discuss?”

You closed the file and looked at the two men, your gaze fell on Gin. Was he smiling? The sight of the smile on his face repulsed you and as he leaned forward you moved back a bit. “Well my client has already confessed to the murders and shown police where all the bodies are so with all his cooperation I’m thinking we should lower the sentence to 25 years in prison with the possibility of parole after 5.”

Your eyes widened and you scoffed at his words, “I’m sorry but is this a joke? You want your client to receive the sentence that is the equivalent to second or third degree murder? That’s just absurd, your client brutally murdered twelve people and would have murdered more if his thirteenth potential victim didn’t escape. He’s a threat to society.”

Aizen shook his head and rested his hands on the table. “We all make mistakes ma’am, I just made mine too many times in a row. I don’t deserve to die, I know what I did was wrong and I am sorry for what happened.”

You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth and how Gin sat next to him with a smile on his face. How could he believe those words? How much was Aizen paying him? You stood up and placed your card on the table, handing it to Gin. As his fingers brushed against your hand you felt like your skin was burning under his touch and quickly moved it back. “When you’re serious about a plea deal, call me.”

You grabbed your briefcase and walked to the door, knocking on it twice. As you exited the room you could’ve sworn you heard Gin and his client whispering to each other and snickering but you just shook it off and made your way to the elevator. Just as the elevator opened you felt someone standing next to you so you looked to your left side and saw Gin standing there. That same grin was plastered on his face.

“Have I met you before this? You seem very familiar.” You walked into the elevator with him and stood at one of the back corners while he pressed the button to the first level and then moved to the back of the elevator with you.

“No, this is the first time I’ve been assigned as opposing counsel to a case you’re involved in but I have attended some of the trials of my colleagues when you were the defense. You have quite an impressive record, no losses.”

He nodded and moved closer to you, almost towering over you. “Wanna know the secret?” Without waiting for an answer from you he leaned down until his mouth was at your ear, “I always get what I want and I stop at no bounds to get it.” Your eyes widened and goosebumps rose along your skin and before you could react the elevator reached your floor. Gin backed away and looked back at you with that vile grin, “hope you continue to bring your A-game for trial, I love a challenge and you seem like the most difficult puzzle I’ve come across in years.” He walked out and you were left frozen in your place.

After a few deep breaths you quickly walked out of the elevator and walked to the parking lot so you could drive back to the office and gather yourself. It was probably some stupid tactic to psyche you out and throw you off but you weren’t going to let that stop you and you definitely weren’t going to forget what he told you, the words still ruminating in the back of your mind. “Always gets what he wants, fucking weirdo.” You shook it off and drove back to your office to somewhat prepare yourself for the next grueling weeks before trial.

After weeks of interviews, investigation, pointless plea deal requests and trial prep it was finally the day of the beginning of the trial. You could barely sleep the night before, something you just noted as pre-trial jitters. Then as the trial began you were completely unsure of what possible tricks Gin could have up his sleeve, his opening statement sounded like it was whipped up last minute, during his cross examination of your witnesses he didn’t even ask any relevant questions or questions that could make the jury question the witness’ credibility.

Everything was easy for some odd reason, when his witnesses took the stand you easily shred their credibility to pieces when it came to your cross examination. You were positive that you were going to win the case and send Sosuke to death row.

And still after every day of trial he had that smirk on his face, like there was something he should be proud of. It baffled you, why was he smirking and smiling all the damn time? You had to find out, so when Gin offered to discuss another plea deal over drinks you jumped at the opportunity. You just had to find out what tricks he had up his sleeve.

After he gave you the paper you went home, freshened up and made your way back to your car with the paper in hand. You glanced at the paper he had given you, an address written messily on the torn paper and furrowed your eyebrows. It didn’t seem like a bar you went to before but you just shrugged it off and put the address in your gps and followed the directions. It wasn’t a long drive from your condominium and your eyes widened once you parked in front of the building.

A luxury building, one of the most expensive luxury buildings in town. You got out of your car and fixed the skirt of your dress and made your way inside the building. The concierge took your name then led you to an elevator that would go straight to where you were meeting Gin and once you were inside you felt the nerves in your stomach.

Your boss had always warned you about meeting another attorney in such a private setting and it only intensified when one of your coworkers mixed business with pleasure during a meeting and got their case thrown out.

Once the elevator stopped and the doors opened you stepped out into the penthouse apartment. You took in all the expensive furniture, the beautiful view of the city, the shelf of expensive liquors and spirits as you stepped further inside. You looked over to see the door to the balcony open and you walked to it and peeked your head outside to see Gin leaning on the balustrade with a half empty glass in his hand. You took a few more steps out and caught his attention.

“Hello Miss Y/N, thank you for meeting me here. Come join me.”

You walked over to him and faced him as you leaned on the balustrade, keeping some distance between you two, “well I’m just here to listen to whatever deal you want to make, hopefully it’s not as ridiculous as the one you made when we first met.”

He laughed and shook his head as he took a step to close the distance. “All work no play I see. Well what would you like to drink? I would still like to be a good host while I have you here.”

“A scotch please and I hope you’re not a heavy handed pourer, I still need to drive back home.”

The smirk grew on his face as you told him your drink of choice. “Don’t you worry, I’m not heavy handed at all. I still want you to be coherent and please feel free to sit inside, it is getting a bit windy and it doesn’t seem like you brought a jacket. Come on.”

His hand rested on the small of your back as he followed you back inside. You took your seat on one of the plush couches and continued looking around the penthouse while he walked over and made your drinks. He glanced over at you and chuckled as he made your drink and refilled his.

“Like what you see? Maybe once you leave that crummy state attorney’s office, you can become a wealthy defense attorney.” He made his way over to you and handed you your drink, which to his delight you quickly took a sip and he sat on the opposite end of the couch from you.

“Maybe that is what I should do but I love sending people to prison too much and I could never imagine defending the monsters you defend.” You took another sip and shifted a bit so you could face him and your eyes quickly skimmed over his body. He wasn’t wearing one of those expensive suits he normally wore to court but his outfit was still fancy. He wore a burgundy button down satin shirt, with a few buttons popped open and black slacks with black dress shoes that look like they’ve never been worn before.

When you met his eyes it seemed like he was doing the same to you, making your cheeks burn as you didn’t wear something as fancy as him, just a simple black v-neck cocktail dress that you often wore to work whenever you didn’t have to go to court. You downed some more of your drink and leaned in a bit, “so what did you want to discuss?”

“Ah of course” he moved a bit closer but still kept his distance as he swirled the liquid around in his glass. “So I still think you should reconsider my most recent offer, 50 years with a minimum of 10 to 15 years. He’ll still go to jail but he won’t die, I think that’s a good deal.”

You scoffed and finished your drink and just before you could set it down on the coffee table Gin reached over and took the glass from you. “I’ll get you a refill, don’t worry I won’t put too much.”

You nodded and watched him walk to grab the scotch bottle before speaking. “That’s absurd, he murdered all those people Gin, even you must know that’s absurd. I could never accept a plea like that, the lowest I’ll go is life in prison without the possibility of parole. I’ll take the death penalty off the table.” You knit your eyebrows together and pinched the bridge of your nose as you felt something course through your body, you just had one little drink so it couldn’t have been any effects of drunkenness and you knew how you got when you drank so it would take a few more drinks to get you to even feel tipsy.

But this feeling was different, like there was a fire burning inside your body. You shifted in your seat, trying not to make it noticeable to Gin but it was too late, he handed you your drink and his classic smirk was plastered on his face as he reached a hand out to touch your shoulder. “Are you alright? Don’t tell me you can’t handle your liquor.”

You moved from his touch, as it felt like his fingers were going to burn through your skin and shook your head. “No I’m fine, I just need to stand outside. It’s getting warm here.” You stood up and made your way outside, it was like every single step you took this burning grew and traveled further south. You quickly made your way to the balustrade and leaned over it, gripping the glass tightly as you took deep breaths and downed everything in the glass. “What the fuck is going on?” You pressed your thighs together for some relief but it made the throbbing between your thighs worse. Your mind ran in circles trying to process what was going on with you but you couldn’t figure it out.

“Have you figured it out yet?” You looked over to find Gin standing extremely close to you, that damned smirk still on his face. “Have you figured out what’s going on with you yet or are you still clueless?” He lifted his hand and brought one finger up to drag it across your cheek and jaw, chuckling at the little whimper you let out. “Do you know what this burning sensation is coursing through your body? Do you know why your cunt is throbbing? Why you’re so sensitive to just the slightest touch?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him and shook your head. “What did you do to me, Gin? What the fuck did you put in my drink?”

He laughed as he made his way over to the outdoor sofa and you whined at the loss of his touch. He took out his phone and put it down on the glass table in front of him and looked up at you. “Come and I’ll tell you.” He patted the spot next to him and your body moved instinctively to him and filled the empty cushion. He placed his hand on your thigh and looked you in the eye. “I only did what had to be done sweetheart, remember when I was with you in the elevator after our first meeting? What did I tell you?”

Your mind was growing fuzzy just feeling his touch again and you couldn’t remember a thing. “I’ll remind you, I always get what I want and I stop at no bounds to get it.” He moved closer to you and his eyes scanned your face. “Do you know how difficult it is to get dirt on someone who has a squeaky clean record? Not even your exes have anything bad to say about you, you’re too fucking clean. There’s nothing else I could’ve done but this.”

Your breath hitched as his hand traveled higher and he moved to your ear, “you’re also so fucking naive, didn’t anyone tell you to keep your eyes on your drink when it gets poured for you? It was so fucking easy to slip my special little powder in and give it to you. So sweetheart, what I gave you was an aphrodisiac and the only way to get rid of all this burning and throbbing is me. I’m your only solution.”

You backed away and shook your head while your body was screaming at you. The amused look on his face never lifted as you muttered how it was unethical and how much trouble he would get in for what he did. “Won’t show up in drug tests silly girl, so you could deny it all you want and shake your head but I am the only one who can help you. You just need to say the words sweetheart, all you need to say is ‘please Gin, please help me. Please fuck me.’ It’s not that difficult. You could try to masturbate but that fire won’t quell quickly, it’ll probably take you one maybe two days to really satisfy yourself and we have court in two days. What are you going to tell judge Fujimoto? ‘Sorry your honor but I need to make myself cum for the rest of the day, can we postpone closing arguments and move the date to the end of the week?’ Just repeat what I told you and I’ll help you, then you can be nice and chipper for court.”

This was against every ethical principle you had and you cursed yourself, how could you do something so stupid and let him slip that into your drink? You glanced at him and sucked in a breath, this was how he did it. This is how he always won his cases, that fucking snake.

“And don’t get me confused with a piece of shit that uses drugs to get what he wants, sweetheart, I don’t drug every lawyer I go against. Normally the other ambitious prosecutors had some dirt, bribed their way to get their license, were abusive to their spouse, had a crippling gambling addiction, just other shit I could use against them but you my dear, are the first and will be the only person I drug. Now, what do you say?”

You let out a sigh, he was right. You couldn’t explain this to anyone and there was no way anyone else in your office could execute a closing statement like you could, you needed this. Sad to say, you needed him. “Please Gin, please help me. Please fuck me.”

Just as the words left your lips he pounced on you, caging you beneath him as he captured your lips in his. His hands roamed all over your body until it reached the hem of your dress and he hiked it up to your hips so his hands could explore where you needed him most. You normally would’ve felt embarrassed with how wet you are but right now you just needed some form of relief, you needed Gin to help you. He slipped your panties to the side while his tongue explored your mouth and he pushed two fingers inside your soaked heat. You gasped against his lips and pressed your chest against his as you broke the kiss.

He kissed down your neck and bit down as he started to pump his fingers. Every drag of his fingers, every press of his lips against your neck, every gentle nibble against your neck, every suck on the sensitive skin on your neck, every brush of his thumb against your clit was heightened and was more pleasurable. “So fucking beautiful, every single time I’ve seen you sitting in the gallery you’ve caught my eye. Then finally seeing you in action, fuck it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, even makes me feel a little bad for doing this.”

His murmurs against your neck became a second thought as the squelching of his fingers in your cunt grew louder as he sped up his motions. His thumb rubbed at your clit more furiously and his free hand groped and gripped your breasts through your dress. You wanted to feel him more, you wanted to feel him against your skin completely, you couldn’t even care about the cold air nipping at your skin. He slipped in a third finger and pressed them against your g spot as he thrusted them in. Your thighs shook and your body quivered while your moans grew louder.

“Gin! Gin fuck! I’m cumming!”

He continued pumping his fingers and pressed his lips against yours in a deep kiss that you could barely return as you couldn’t stop moaning his name. Once you stopped quivering around his digits he slipped them out and looked at them, the moonlight making them shine and he slipped them in his mouth, cleaning your cum off of them with a groan. “I think you might just be an aphrodisiac yourself.” He leaned down and gripped your cheeks so you could open your mouth and he spit on your tongue, the action mixed with the effects of the drug turning you on to no end.

You looked down at the bulge in his pants and licked your lips, just from the bulge you could see how thick and big his cock was. “Please fuck me Gin, I need your cock. I need you to fuck me.” You sat up a bit to undo his pants and he gently pushed you on your back and shook his head. “No no sweetheart, I’ll do all the work. By the time these drugs wear off I want the association between me and pleasure to be imprinted in your mind. I want you to look at me and press your thighs together subconsciously, got it?”

You nodded at his words and your attention quickly shifted from his eyes to his hands as they undid his pants and pulled his cock out. Your eyes widened at the sight, it was thick and long and the angry red tip was leaking precum. “Blink a little sweetheart, don’t tell me this is the biggest cock you’ve ever seen.” You bit your lip and spread your legs more, opting not to say anything since he already knew the truth. He spit on his cock and stroked his cock to lather his spit on it and he moved closer so he could drag his cock through your puffy folds. Up and down and each time he dragged his cock up, the tip of his cock brushed against your clit, making you whine and mewl.

“Please Gin, I’m wet enough. Just stop teasing me and just fuck me!” He chuckled, muttering something about your lack of patience before pushing his cock through your folds, splitting you in half on his cock. He continued pushing his cock inside you while getting a firm grip on your hips and one his grip was firm enough he slammed the rest of his cock inside you. “Fuck you’re tight! Like you’ve never been fucked before or is it that you haven’t been fucked properly yet? Don’t worry about answering sweetheart, just focus on how good I’m making you feel.”

He dug his fingers into the soft skin of your hips while he thrusted into you hard and fast, your slick soaking his cock, balls and thighs. The wet slapping of skin filled the air along with your whines and moans of his name. “So good Gin, so fucking good don’t stop.” He picked up the pace of his hips and moved one hand to slide your dress higher so your breasts could be exposed to him, so he could watch how they bounced and jiggled with each of his hard thrusts.

They looked perfect, your nipples were perked up because of the cold wind and how turned on you were. He toyed and teased your nipples as the tip of his cock pressed against your g spot, hitting the spongy spot repeatedly as his thrusts grew even faster and harder. Your back arched into his touch and your eyes shut due to all of the overwhelming pleasure. “Please don’t stop Gin, please please please!” You lifted your hands to grip his arms and ground yourself as your second orgasm of the night quickly approached. Seeing you like this was a complete shift from how you normally carried yourself, normally you were so composed and stoic and now you were a complete mess, whining and whimpering as tears and saliva coated your face.

He brought his hand back down from your breasts and to your clit, rubbing it quickly in time with his thrusts and he leaned down to bite down on one of your nipples, sending you head first into your second orgasm. You cried out his name loudly and he continued thrusting you through your orgasm. He latched off of your nipple and looked up at you, “where do you want my cum sweetheart?” His hips didn’t stop as you thought of your answer.

“Inside me Gin, please cum inside me.” He thrusted a few more times and came deep inside you, his thick seed filling you up. He slowed his hips as the last drops of his cum filled you up and he slowly pulled out of you. His cock throbbed at the sight of his cum seeping out of you, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You whined and bucked your hips as you felt the throbbing intensify.

“I need more Gin, I need more of you. Please Gin I need you, I need you so badly, please fuck me more please!” He stood and fixed his pants so they were back on his hips and he chuckled at the way your eyes widened. “Don’t worry I’m not gonna stop until that ache is gone, I just want to take you inside, don’t want you getting sick.” He took his phone and leaned down to pick you up and walked with you inside as you clung to him. “I’ll fuck you in every room and on every fucking surface. You want that?” You nodded and held onto him even tighter as he walked with you into his bedroom. He dropped you on his Alaskan king bed and you quickly glanced around to see the lights were dimmed and turned your attention back to him.

You sat up on your knees and took off your dress while he set his phone down and you pulled him over to you, making quick work of undoing the buttons of his shirt and quickly moving to his pants and briefs. “Don’t be in such a rush sweetheart, you’ll get cock.” He shrugged off the rest of his clothes and laid you back down on the bed while he slotted himself between your legs. He hooked his hands under the backs of your knees and pressed your knees to your chest before plunging his cock inside you, the action making the both of you moan and roll your heads back. His grip tightened on your legs while he started thrusting. “Fuck I think I’m even deeper now, look at you, taking me so fucking deep.”

Your eyes rolled back with each of his thrusts and fucked out babbles left your lips. “Don’t stop fucking me Gin, need your cock inside me all the time don’t fucking stop! I want your cum to leak out of me for days, please Gin fuck.”

He was eating up every second of your fucked out state, it was a shame that it did have to end at some point but with what he had planned for you, you’d be in the same position very soon. He gripped your legs tighter at each of your pleas and his heavy balls slammed against your ass with each of his thrusts. Your hands wrapped around his neck and pulled him in closer so he could kiss you again, it was like you were getting addicted to his lips and touch in this state. He kissed you deeply and his tongue explored your mouth while the tip of his cock pounded your sensitive spot over and over again.

It didn’t take long for the knot in the pit of your stomach to tighten again and signaled that your third orgasm of the night was going to approach. Your fingers gripped his hair and tugged on the silver stands as you feverishly kissed him back. “Gonna cum again Gin please don’t stop!” Your legs shook in his hold and tightened as the knot in your stomach snapped. You moaned his name against his lips and tugged on his hair harder, making him hiss and his cock twitch. He continued fucking you through your orgasm, feeling your juices gush out and soak his skin more. He groaned against your lips and felt his own orgasm approach quickly.

He continued pumping his hips against yours and stilled them as the first rope of cum spilled out, “fuck fuck take it all sweetheart, take all my fucking cum. It’s all for you, all of my fucking cum is for you.” He rocked his hips against yours and bit your bottom lip, slowly tugging it as he pulled back and pulled out of you. He quickly moved to look at how his second load leaked out of you and groaned at the sight. You bit your lip and whimpered as he stared and you shifted a bit so you could sit up and look at him. Your cunt was still throbbing and the fire in the pit of your stomach was still burning.

“Gin I need more, I need more of your cock. It hurts Gin.” He leaned back against his bed and beckoned you closer. “Then come here sweetheart, ride my cock and take all the cum you need. I’ll fuck you all night long until it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

He was the one that put you in this state but right now he was your savior. He was the only one that could provide you relief and you were going to use him as much as you needed to.

You two spent the rest of the night fucking, fucking on every surface of the penthouse apartment he could get you on and it was all in a lust filled haze. You don’t even remember when you fell asleep but when you finally came to your senses you were in his bed, his soft velvet blanket covering you. You rubbed your eyes and sat up slowly, wincing at the throbbing pain between your thighs. You hoped it might’ve been a very vivid sex dream but as you heard footsteps enter the room, you were met with the reality of the situation.

“Hello sleeping beauty, it’s 3 in the afternoon so I wasn’t sure if you wanted breakfast or something for lunch so I just made what I felt was necessary. You need to eat up, we had a very active night last night.” He was shirtless and you felt your cheeks burn as you saw all the marks that littered his body, all the scratch marks, the hickeys and everything that reminded you of the events that happened last night. He set the tray of food down and laid down next to you, pulling you in and pressing a kiss on the crown of your head.

You felt sick to your stomach. How could he act so normal after everything that just happened? You moved from his grip, wincing again as the slight tinge of pain coursed through your body. “What do you want, Gin? If you wanted to just fuck me then you didn’t have to slip something into my drink, you could’ve just waited for after trial.” You glared at him as the smirk grew on his face.

“Wow, no thank you or anything. Well, since you want to get straight to business I’ll tell you” he leaned in close and gripped your chin between his index finger and thumb, tilting your head up. “I want you to accept the plea deal I’m about to offer you. 50 years in a medium security prison with a minimum of 10 to 25 years on good behavior.”

You moved from his grip and pushed his hand away. “No! Are you insane? There’s no way in hell I’ll make a deal like that.”

He sighed and reached over to his nightstand to grab his phone. “I figured you were going to say that, so predictable, good thing I have my little insurance plan.” He scrolled through and turned the phone to you, showing you what was on the screen right before he pressed play. It was you from last night while he fucked you, your face was right in perfect view and the fucked out babbles you made were blaring through the speaker. “Would be a real shame if judge Fujimoto and your boss saw this, not only would you lose the case but you’d lose your job. I’d hate to see that happen to you but I could always offer you a job at my office. The thing is that no one would take you seriously when you’re in the courtroom and that would be a waste of your license to practice. So, have a change of mind?”

Tears brimmed your eyes as you watched the video, it was disgusting that he would put you in this position. Still you needed to play his game and play by his rules. “Fine, I’ll make the deal and it’ll be ready by tomorrow.”

He pressed his lips to yours in a soft kiss and put his phone away. “Good girl, now eat up.” He stood by your side the rest of the day until you were ready to head back home and write up the deal. He escorted you to your car and pressed a kiss to your temple. “Drive safe, pretty girl, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He waved you off and you were left with your thoughts and soreness between your thighs and that’s when it all hit you. There was no way that after tomorrow he would leave you alone, he had that video and probably much more of the events that had transpired. He was going to use you as a pawn in his game of chess and your fate was sealed.

Once you got home you wrote up the deal, showered and then went to bed, not like you actually slept since you spent the entire night tossing and turning. When your alarm went off in the morning you got dressed and made your way to the office to tell your boss the news. Surprisingly he took it fine, he had no doubt in your abilities and knew that the families of the victims just wanted Sosuke in jail, no matter how long that time would be. Then you made your way to court, once inside the courtroom you felt your stomach turn into knots when you saw Gin and Sosuke and winced when Gin winked your way.

“Okay Mr. Ichimaru informed me that there was a deal on the table?”

You nodded and stood up, glancing over at Gin and watched his finger tap his phone as a silent warning to you. “Yes, the deal is 50 years in a medium security prison with a minimum of 10 to 25 years if the defendant is on good behavior.” Judge Fujimoto nodded and wrote it down in his notes.

“Sounds good to me. Mr. Ichimaru, since you and your client accepted just know it would be difficult for an appeal and if that’s all then court is dismissed.” He banged his gavel and stood, you gathered your things while Sosuke was escorted out by the court officers. You took a deep breath and left the courtroom, giving small smiles and hugs to the grieving family members of his victims and then walked out to your car. Just as you fished your keys out of your pocket you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Leaving so quickly sweetheart? You didn’t even let me congratulate you properly, this is technically my first loss since my client is going to prison.” He chuckled and moved in front of you, “but, I wouldn’t have wanted to lose to anyone but you. So, how about we celebrate? I’ll order some takeout and you can come over at around 8? And bring some clothes with you since you’ll be spending more nights at my place from here on out.”

You nodded and looked up at him, “I’ll be there at 8 Gin, and if that is all then I’ll see you later.”

“Ah, never leave without a goodbye kiss sweetheart.” He cupped your cheek with one hand and kissed you softly before pulling away and headed to his car. You got inside yours and drove back to your office, cursing yourself the entire way there.

If only you weren’t so curious to find out the tricks of his trade. But it’s like they always say, hindsight is always 20/20.

Taglist: @sleepy3 @anime-nymph @alexxavicry @tokyometronetwork

Join taglist here

#bleach smut #gin ichimaru smut #gin smut #tw noncon filming #tw drugging #tw aphrodisiacs #tw alcohol mention #tw public sex #tw unprotected sex #tw blackmail

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duskoon · 2 years

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Yandere!Pokèmon rankings:

❂) In this post, I will be ranking the yanderes within Pokèmon. Considering the large rooster, it will be edited multiple times as to include the remaining characters. ❂) It will be denoted by a ⭑. There’s five ranks, the first being the least intense whilst the fifth being the most intense. ❂) It will be based on the yandere’s presence in their s/o’s life, the length they will go to obtain their s/o, the danger they impose on others, and their possessiveness regarding their beloved. ❂) Character that have asterisk behind their name, may change ranking later on.

Tw: Yandere themes, Disturbing themes, Obsessive behaviours, Possessive behaviours, Mentions of torture, Implied murder, Stalking, Conditioning, Brainwashing, Implied Stockholm syndrome, Manipulation, Psychological abuse, Power imbalance, Unhealthy relationship, Blackmailing, Corruption, Sadism, Bribery, Criminal activities, Abuse of authority, Violence, Dead dove: do not eat.

⭑⭒⭒⭒⭒~Harmless, albeit uncanny.

Presence:Unnoticed. Possessiveness:Extremely low. Manipulative:Extremely low to none. Danger:Minimal.

Those within this category are slightly delusional, yet mild in nature. You might find some insignificant items missing, like a hair pin or brushes. Perhaps, even finding a sweet love letter and a gift on your nightstand from a secret admirer.

They are working hard behind the scenes to protect and serve their darling in any way they possibly can. And, would do so without inciting violence whatsoever or cause unnecessary bloodshed. They revere their darling and by extension their relatives, so long they aren’t abusive towards their beloved.

Most won’t initiate contact with their darling, and would prefer watching them from a safe distant as not to scare them away. If they did come out, they will wax praises and pamper them. Overall, the best yanderes to get stuck with seeing that they’re the least overbearing and manipulative.

Erika

Prof. Elm

Prof. Birch

Alder

N Harmonia(Game & Masters & Generations)

Kahili

Leaf/Green

Red

⭑⭑⭒⭒⭒~Supportive, with a wary streak.

Presence:Noticeable, yet somewhat amiable. Possessiveness:Low. Manipulative:Low. Danger:Low.

Unlike the previous category, these yanderes are more involved in their darling’s life. However, it isn’t with a malicious intent as they only seek the best for them. They are confident in their abilities to mask their obsessive tendencies, in hopes of supporting their beloved. All they want for their s/o is success and would ensure it occurs, even if they have to tweak the system in their favour.

Some would feel guilty, but would eventually delude themselves into thinking that is the best course of action. Most within this category, would try and sway their darling from other people if they personally felt their beloved was threatened. Which is almost, if not, always. If they happen to come across as manipulative, they won’t notice owing to how paranoid and/or delusional they are.

However, they refuse to use physical violence in their confrontation with the assailant. The weight of their words alone should be sufficient in getting them out of the picture. For the most part, they are easily manageable so long you don’t push them away too hard. You would still have your personal agency and autonomy intact.

Blue/Gary

Koga

Sabrina

Lorelei

Prof. Sycamore

Crasher Wake

Fantina

Burgh

N Harmonia(Pokèmon Adventures)

Flint

Elesa

Caitlin

Prof. Juniper(Game)

Guzma

James

Prof. Kukui

Prof. Burnet

Shelly

Matt

*Archer

Petrel

⭑⭑⭑⭒⭒~Danger under the guise of a protecter.

Presence:Overbearingly noticeable. Possessiveness:Medium to high. Manipulative:Medium. Danger:Fluctuating; with a preference to render the opposition defenceless.

Things start to take a turn from this rank and onwards. Yanderes from within this classification would limit their beloved interactions with the external world as much as possible. Mainly due to the nature of their work, or they had previously lost a partner pokémon and would prefer for history not to repeat itself with their beloved. Which makes them seem controlling and rigid in hindsight.

In contrast with the ranks above, they are willing to use violence if they deem it necessary enough to protect their darling. However, they won’t go too far to kill for that goes against their disposition and would cripple their image. In addition of using abusing their respective positions, to keep their s/o alongside them.

Also, they won’t shy away from framing any suspicious individuals for a crime they have not committed for the greater good of their darling. It shouldn’t be that hard considering they hold a significant amount of influence in their regions/organisations. Which would cements them as trustworthy figures. Your personal agency and autonomy starts to dwindle.

Lt. Surge

Bruno

Lance

Norman

Glacia

Steven Stone

Maxie

Archie

Byron

Volkner

Lucien

Cynthia

Looker

Jupiter(Game)

Saturn(Game)

Mars(Game)

Brycen

Drayden

Grimsley

Marshal

Prof. Juniper(Pokémon Adventures)

Malva

Olivia

Nanu

Jessie

Lusamine(Masters)

Ariana

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭒~Run, hide, disguise, and repeat.

Presence:Uncomfortably felt, but not seen. Possessiveness:High. Manipulative:High. Danger:Fluctuating.

They resemble the first rank in the manner they conduct themselves, completely blind from the public’s sight. Yet, their motives are wholly different. They are keeping tabs on you, so they could pinpoint your attributes and use it to their advantage later on. It might take months, even years to plan and execute their scheme. But, they are willing to wait for the right opportunity to do so.

They are self-assured that their efforts will not be for nought, because they will make sure of it by any means available to them. Yanderes within this grouping are elusive, deliberate, and pragmatic in their methods of collecting their beloved and aren’t susceptible to attempts of manipulation.

If there are alternatives that will not attract the attention of the Interpol toward themselves, then they will absolutely take it. Rather than resort to an avoidable murder out of abrupt jealousy. They will only kill, if their hands is forced. Granted that, it will be behind the back of their beloved.

They hold their darling in the highest regards, to the point that the yandere will most likely end up worshiping them. That is the main reason on why they start the process of isolating and conditioning you. So, that you can be receptive only to their affection after your “relocation”. Which is not a matter of if, but when. Escaping them is nigh-impossible, as they have vast resources to find you again. It will definitely not end up very well for you, once they do manage to find you.

Your personal agency -at this point- is very restricted, whilst your autonomy is threatened at best. A word of advise to follow is to run, hide, disguise while you can, and better hope that they do not apprehend you.

Proton

Courtney

Jupiter(Pokémon Adventures)

Saturn(Pokémon Adventures)

Mars(Pokémon Adventures)

Cyrus

Colress(Game & Generations)

Lysandre

Faba

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑~ Arceus, have mercy on you.

Presence:Frightening, yet remains hidden to untrained eyes. Possessiveness:Extremely. Manipulative:Extremely. Danger:Do absolutely not engage with them at any point.

Kill, maim, torture, bribery, blackmailing, and all those just to get their darling. Do not be mistaken, despite that they remain strategic and level-headed in their means like the rank above. Yet, what separates them is their modus operandi. They’re far more selfish and crueller. No moral restrains to hold them back.

Some would murder to make an example of the people, who dared to leer their disgusting eyes on their beloved. They would even make so, that the murder are not directly traced back to them. Yanderes within this rank are likely to be lucid, save for few. They are notable for their shrewdness, controlling, sadistic, and machiavellian deception.

Their area of influence is substantial and much feared comparable to the third rank; it slithers down to the offices of politicians. Which gives them the perfect opportunity to offer them this wonderful “proposal”. They either choose to hand over their beloved, or else the blood of their own people will be on their hands. May-haps a humiliating scandal from their past will make them budge, if they were not concerned for the well being of their people.

Before that, they prefer to try their hands on subtler methodologies. Such as offering their beloved to live with them, if accepted then it will make the processes smoother. Otherwise, they will make sure that you throughly regret your choice. They will toy with your fears, dreams, and values until your mind finally crumbles and submit to their will. They will ensure that you can sense them, but be completely helpless against them. (Usually, by sending their underlings to observe you. It is obvious to you, but not to others. Which makes it harder on your part to seek help. The people you’re seeking help from either would accuse you of paranoia or they were bribed not to help you.)

Pleas of help are utterly useless, as they have absolute control in places where only your mind can imagine. Tis but a price for your disobedience, they say. Once you’re in their hold, they will addle your mind. So much, that the only thing left in your head is to venerate them as much as they do to you. After all, they are the only one who you can truly depend on and love. For they have sheltered and took care of you, in your time of need. Your sense of self has been fully compromised.

Ghetsis

*Colress(Pokèmon Adventures)

Giovanni

Lusamine(Game, especially S/M)

Sird

{Reblogs and feedback are much appreciated.}

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tazdrgaoneyetagain · 8 months

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local trans lesbian dragon gets drunk and sobs over her past mistakes (she has been rendered powerless and cannot fix anything)

#tax evasion #wings of fire #wof #wof oc #nightwing #oh you guys i have been brainrotting HARD about thunder #pov you get brainwashed into hating your brother and subsequently become far overprotective of your sister and slowly spiral due to burnout #and not to mention being constantly on edge because you're being fucking blackmailed #and if you say one wrong thing your reputation will be tarnished irreversibly #and lets not forget the developing alchoholism!!!! so neat!#okay let me just.#tw alchohol mention #just in caseys #tazzys ocs tag

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yumejocomplex · 2 years

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💌💊🚫 with bruno 😩😩

Tw: blackmailing, noncon, drugging, mentions of pregnancy.

DRUGGING 💊

× || Bruno usually hated the idea of drugging you, his heart and morals so against the stuff, but after he spiked your drink with a sedative once when you were acting out he found it intoxicating. You were so soft and sweet to the touch, mewling and moving into his hand on your back, shoulder and head, and you slept peacefully in his arms. It became a guilty pleasure of his, and soon he was experimenting with a wide array of drugs. It isn't so much the use of them that interests him, he's still miffed at himself that he likes this after all, it's how you react on each one. He stays away from harder drugs like cocaine or methamphetamines, but he isn't against roofies or anything like 'em. Don't mention the fact he drugs you to his face though, you'll make Bruno very upset, having him stare reality right in the face like that. His go-to choice for drugging is always through food or drink, so keep an eye on those!

NONCON 🚫

× || As mentioned before: roofies! Bruno loves the way you get so tired and lose your conciousness, your world slipping to black while his world gets more colored. You're not denying him, you're just laying there, and to him and his urges he finds that means you're practically begging for a good fucking. He loves to fondle and grope you through your clothes, sharing messy, sloppy tongue kisses with you as he pulls or zips your clothes off you, leaving you bared for him. He's always gentle when he puts his cock in, making sure he's lavished your hole with his tongue plenty before he even thinks to push the head in. He's got a soft but firm rhythm to his thrusts, and he always makes sure to cum inside. If you can get pregnant, expect to be pregnant sometime and not know why. Lucky for you, Bruno knows it all.

BLACKMAILING 💌

× || He doesn't particularly enjoy turning to blackmail, and he'd really only do it if you guys had kids you wanted to take from him. But if that was the case Bruno is going to take Abbacchio and sit for hours while Moody Blues replays any possible information he may know about you to find dirt on you. When he gets that dirt, he'll pinpoint either the most important person to you, be it family or friend or role model etc, and threaten to ruin your entire relationship with them if you don't let him be a father.

#anon #Moldy Breadbasket #Tw pregnancy #Tw pregnancy mentions #Tw noncon #Tw drugging #Tw blackmail #Bruno Bucciarati #Bruno Buccellati #DDDNE Ask Game

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in-love-with-writing-whump · 1 year

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Dialogue Prompt:

TW: STRONG LANGUAGE, DARK THEMES

"Why the fuck would you tell them? Why did you fucking tell them?!"

"They needed to know, otherwise they would have continued to blackmail you-"

"You fucking idiot! Sure, you got them to stop the first time, but you just handed them a gun with ammunition to use against me, and don't you dare try and pretend they wouldn't. We both know they're an asshole who doesn't know when to stop."

"They were going to find our either way, Whumpee. I didn't want them to get the wrong idea."

"The wrong idea?! It's you who has got the wrong idea! You don't have the right to tell other people my shit. You don't get to do that, not to me. I fucking trusted you, and you betrayed me."

"..."

"You made me look like a fool in front of everyone. And the worst part of it is, you still think you did the right thing."

"I did."

"No, no, you didn't. You never do. If you did, there wouldn't be anyway for them to blackmail you."

"Oh, look who's talking-"

"I didn't get a choice, Caretaker! It was *that* or dying in a dingy alleyway with the rats. And, let me tell you, sometimes, I wish I died in that shithole rather than end up like this. Hell, sometimes, I wish I'd get struck in some random shootout just so I don't have to carry the burden of knowing what I did to survive."

"Whumpee..."

"If you were going to betray me, you should've just shot me between the eyes. It would've been kinder than this."

#angry whumpee #tw: blackmail #tw: suicidal ideation #tw: death mention #tw: guns #tw: guilt #tw: trauma #tw: betrayal #tw: angst #tw: bad caretaker #tw: strong language #tw: self-loathing #tw: morality #tw: survivor's guilt #whump prompt

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slowlyzealouslover · 1 year

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I wanna make a nasty dark obey me fanfic idea but I'm scared people don't like it because it have pedophile, murder, blackmail and yandere so,i'm here to say if i should post it?

#obey me #tw dark themes #tw dark content #dark obey me #tw pedophila mention #tw murder #tw blackmail #tw yandere

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harpyfeather · 2 years

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Between Trials [Ghost Face] Headcannons

My mind wanders a lot when I am waiting for a game in Dead By Daylight. The lore that I have read, the jokes I imagine between survivors, how the killers and survivors may interact depending on what the Entity does outside of a trial. Keep in mind I haven’t read every scrap of lore, this is mostly me blurting out thoughts across the keyboard with how I view The Ghost Face. Let me know what you think!

- Ghostface - > Between trials is when he gets most of his work done, all those pictures he took of survivors on the floor? Bleeding between their teeth, and whispering last words he relished in have to be developed eventually. He can’t risk losing a single one. > You think he’d have some make-shift red room built on the outskirts of the ‘Waiting Forest’ the entity dumps them in while they await the next trial? Not a chance, he’s here for life and boy does he not plan on leaving. The Entity will give it to you if you ask, if it will keep you from sinking into a lifeless lump that won’t heard those running dorks. > Frames and wooden boxes to keep them in aren’t feasible, not when he has favorites, not when he has such an abundance of those favorites. He pins them to the wall, hammering them in above where he sleeps, on the walls, his favorite ones get pinned to the door. > Hunger, other needs aren’t as prevalent in this realm as you’d think they are. Sure the occasional burger doesn’t slip out of his mind without being held in his thoughts for a beat too long. Yet, with everything else he gets to indulge in, he can’t complain. What he can complain about is the enforced...’Time Out’s > Outside of a trial he is positive the keeper of the realm does something, otherworldly, keeping him and his peers away from that ever distant campfire...Leaving them to skulk in the darkness. He doesn’t mind, the fog hissing beneath his mask from his own breath amuses him...But he wants to keep his amusement up...He can’t do that if endless trees separate him from the survivors he can almost catch a glimpse of. > This rule doesn’t seem to apply to the dorks that turn tail and run from him the first chance they get. Sitting, waiting...watching the blur one came closer, and closer, and he could make out features. The brambles and branches were straining, poking into his outfits fabric as he watched, breath a rare commodity for him as he prayed every step got them closer. His mind had raced, asking questions he desperately wanted the answer to. ‘Would he see that particular dork in trial ever again if he killed them here?‘ ‘Would the entity kick him out!?‘ ‘What would happen?‘ Standing up slowly in the dark answered some of his burning questions. The blonde would only look up at his ever rising shape....drop that dumb instrument, turn tail and give him a lovely scream. His laughter had followed her all the way back to the campfire, before The Entity placed hundreds of yards of tree between them. “Careful where you wander, Songbird.“

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schrijverr · 2 years

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Captured

Someone is blackmailing Harvey with pictures of him having sex with other men. He tries to hide and push everyone away, but it only gets worse. A worried Mike finds him in his condo in the middle of a panic attack. After calming him down, he shows Harvey that he’s not alone, helping him fix it and teaching Harvey that being bisexual isn’t so bad if you have friends.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: blackmail, stalking, internalized biphobia, mentioned homophobia and panic attack.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Harvey is in trouble. It’s not a sentence one would often hear in relation to him and that is honestly why it is so terrifying now that it is happening.

Okay, maybe we need to back up a bit to what happened. Earlier that morning a package came in the mail for him, it was a manila envelope with no return address. Harvey had thought it looked suspicious, but it wasn’t the first time he had gotten something like it, so he had opened it without a care.

Now he is in the office, trying to breathe as he looks at a series of photo’s taken of a younger Harvey, naked as the day he was born, in the arms of another man. Underneath are more recent pictures of him in the same compromising position.

On a logical level he knows the only scandalous thing about these pictures should be the fact that he is naked. Jessica has often joked he will be the first sex scandal out of the partners. However, he also knows the society (and the part of society) he moves in and there is a reason he has never told anyone he is bisexual.

He loves women and having sex with them. He knows he gets around and is quite happy with that reputation. He just likes to indulge sometimes and apparently he should have known that was a mistake, because look where here he is.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, wanting to rip the pictures apart, but not wanting to leave a shred of evidence behind in his office.

His hands are shaking and his chest is being cinched by an invisible corset. He wants to move, knowing that he must look weird from outside his office, hunched over, holding something out of sight, but he is frozen to the spot.

What do they want, he wonders. How did they get these? And who are they? He’s always been so careful. God, he is going to loose his all clients, his prestige, his job, his friends even if he’s unlucky.

There’s a letter in there as well, but Harvey hasn’t found the wits to read it. He probably should, so he knows what he has to do to get this to go away. (On a logical level he also knows that doing what they want won’t make this stop and whoever send these will just continue to use these to get him to do whatever they want).

“Harvey?” Mike’s concerned voice cuts through his spiral.

Harvey startles and would have dropped the pictures, were he not clutching them so tightly that they are crinkling. It takes a second, before he remembers how to operate his mouth, then he greets back: “Mike.”

“Are you okay?” Mike asks, the frown deepening.

No, Harvey thinks, panicking that Mike is already noticing that something is up. He is sure it flashes over his face, but he’s not reacting to Mike’s expressions, covering it up with: “Of course. What did you need?”

“We were going to talk over the deposition,” Mike reminds him. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” Harvey says, not so smoothly. “Go sit, I’ll grab the files.”

He doesn’t check if Mike listens, shoving the pictures back into the envelope, which he hides in his briefcase. Shoulders relax as he clicks it close, files in hand as he makes his way to the couch where Mike has made himself comfortable.

Usually Harvey will plop down next to him, but today he hesitates. There is nothing special about sitting down next to Mike. It’s just sitting and he doesn’t even like Mike like that. The kid is too young for him and reminds him too much of Markus. Mike is his friend, his brother. But those damn pictures twist everything in his mind. He feels watched, like everyone already knows and is following his every move, judging him.

Harvey sits in the chair.

Mike gives him a look, but doesn’t comment, content to let this go if Harvey doesn’t want to talk about it, much to his relief. And they set to work on the deposition.

The day passes in a blur for Harvey. He is functioning, moving like he has always done, but he is mentally far away. It’s not that he is thinking over the pictures constantly and therefore can’t concentrate, he just took a mental step back, so he won’t devolve into a panicking mess and can go about his day as best as he can.

He goes home as early as he can without suspicion, ignoring Donna’s questioning eyebrows just like he had ignored Mike’s concerned brows throughout the day.

Only in the safety of his condo does he open his briefcase and gets out the envelope. He is still in his suit, but he has no shoes on and his tie is loosened, his buttons undone. His hair is a mess from the amount of times he ran his hand through it as he sits on the couch, staring at the envelope in his hands.

With clumsy fingers he opens is again, not looking inside, but feeling for the letter that must be in there as well. No one sends someone blackmail without motive. There must be a motive.

He finds the letter and pulls it out, not sure if he wants to know what he has to do to keep this a secret.

After reading the letter he sits and stares out over the New York skyline. This person, whoever they are, is asking him to break attorney-client privilege. That is a crime. He can loose his license for that. Not to mention the malpractice that comes with it.

Being bisexual isn’t a crime, however. His reputation might get a hit, but he wouldn’t be breaking the law and he’ll get to keep practicing. The smart choice would be to not listen, to not do it and just deal with the fall out.

A small voice in his brain pipes up, you’re already breaking the law with Mike. It’s not that different from that. He can keep practicing as long as no one finds out.

But then they just have more blackmail, he argues with the small voice he wants to give in to, I have plausible deniability with Mike. Besides, you can sue them for blackmail. The letter gives you evidence.

If you do that, everyone will know what the blackmail was, the small voice tells him.

You can keep that sealed, the rational part argues.

But everyone in Pearson Hardman will know. The rumor mill will work over time, all the partners will look at you and know. Louis will know. Jessica will know. Mike will know. Everyone will figure it out and the damage will be done anyway. Who knows if someone will leak it with enough motivation.

Again the rational part reminds him that being bisexual isn’t a crime and so the arguments cycle in his mind.

Harvey doesn’t even realize he’s crying until a drop smudges the ink of the letter he’s still blankly staring at. He quickly puts it on the coffee table and wipes his eyes, hating himself for the weakness when new tears take their place.

He curls into himself hugging his knees to his chest as he buries his face between them, shoulders shaking with sobs he rarely allows himself to let out. But he needs it today. Couldn’t stop it, no matter how badly he wants to.

So, he cries.

He cries by himself on his couch with nothing but the New York skyline for company. He doesn’t have friends he can confide into, nor the ability to be that vulnerable in front of someone. He’s all alone and he has never felt it more.

When he finally manages to drag himself to bed, he still hasn’t decided what to do. He huddles under the covers, too exhausted to cry more, yet too worked up to fall asleep and considers calling in sick tomorrow.

In the end he does go to work. He is very late, which is thankfully not too much out of character for him.

That morning he agonized in front of his mirror for ages. He’s wearing a plain black suit and white dress shirt. It’s the straightest outfit he could think off that won’t set of alarm bells in Donna’s mind and he hates himself for even thinking like that, but he has to hide. He has to.

Harvey has long since learned that it’s okay for others to be queer, but not him. Never him.

He’s aware that he is a bit stiff throughout the day, but he is hyper aware of his every movement and continuously on guard. Mostly, he is just glad that he doesn’t have meetings today and Mike is busy with research.

As he works, his mind is distracted by the situation, analyzing it. The person, who send these wants him to sabotage a take over of Lemmin Inc. and give them enough inside knowledge of his client’s weak points to return the favor, as well as hand over all the weak points they found in Lemmin Inc. that they were planning to use.

If he were to give in, he would be breaking attorney-client confidentiality and committing malpractice. That could ruin his career.

But- but if he wrote in a loophole that Lemmin Inc. could use against his client, then it could just be an accident and he’ll have his plausible deniability and he won’t break confidentiality. However, he won’t comply completely and who knows what they’ll do then. Not to mention that Mike will find the loophole and point it out. What will Harvey say to him?

And if he just complies, then this can go away. Sure, he’ll have committed malpractice and broke confidentiality, which can sit on his shelve next to fraud.

Yet it will always be a threat hanging over his hand if he complies. They will know what they have is good and they can use it whenever they want, with each order getting more and more things they can use against him.

Harvey is stuck in a loop, the uncertainty of what the do draining him and making him anxious. He wants to go to Jessica, ask what she would recommend. He could tell her it’s just normal nude pictures and hear her advise without having to come out and face her opinion on that.

He knows he can’t do that, though. He has always told her that if he ever gets blackmailed with his sexual escapades, he’ll sue the hell out whoever tried and represent all the women who had to be exposed too pro-bono. Joking that all they’ll give him is free advertisement.

He can’t come back on that now. He’s alone.

The following days pass in a blur and he is sure that Mike and Donna are getting concerned for him as the time passes. He sees their exchanged glances and furrowed brows whenever he’s distracted or shrinks away from their touch. Shuts them out.

When they talk his mind drifts and he can’t stop it, when they ask him things it takes him a moment to respond, when they invite him he declines.

Harvey knows it’s obvious that something is going on with him and it’s frustrating that he can’t hide how he’s splitting at the seams. How he can’t even pretend he’s not crying himself to sleep each night, hating himself and hating that he hates himself.

His mind is making itself up against his will, but he’s tired of arguing with himself. He has worked hard for where he is today. And he vividly remembers those years at school before he was the sports star, when he was a bit of a posh kid, who the others called a poof and worse. Those were the darkest days of his life and he vowed never to be in that position again.

Besides, everyone already thinks he’s a dirty lawyer with no principles. Hell, he has committed a crime, what’s one more?

He doesn’t want to, but he doesn’t see another way.

Everyone’s eyes feel like judgments and he feels seen wherever he goes. He doesn’t go out anymore. He locks himself in his apartment, the safest place he has. And he just wants this to be done, to leave it behind and go on with his life.

Harvey loved his life, he doesn’t want to isolate himself, be upset, the feeling in his chest tightening with the second. He wants to say yes to drinks with Mike without fearing how it looks. Wants to joke with Donna without fearing she’ll know. Without others thinking of why he gets along with Donna so well, why he knows about her bags, without fitting stereotypes together into a semi-correct picture that’s Harvey doesn’t want to be forced into.

He just wants to leave it all behind him. So, he finds himself late in the office by himself, crumbling under the pressure.

Yesterday he got another package delivered to his office. More pictures. How the person keeps getting more and how long he has been watching Harvey, he doesn’t want to think about. But the message is clear: hurry up with your reply.

So, he is putting a loophole into his contract, so that Lemmin Inc. can wiggle out of it, trying to think of a reason to keep Mike away from the contract and a way to tell whoever is doing this to him that he’s complying.

When he is done, he feels empty inside. He mails Mike to focus on finding information about their opposition for the meeting the day after tomorrow and that he’ll focus on the contract. Then he goes home, crawling into bed and staring at his ceiling, deciding not to come in tomorrow.

The next day he moves through his apartment like a ghost. He’s giving up. The great Harvey Specter everyone, bending under the slightest threat. Tucking tail like a coward.

His phone rings and beeps, but Harvey doesn’t care. He only wishes to disappear and be forgotten by the world.

Harvey doesn’t know why he’s hit so hard by this. He thought he was okay with who he was, but then again, he has always hidden that side, believed himself to be subtle, treated it as a dirty secret and never said the word bisexual out loud.

He is a giant ball of over compensation and denial. And suddenly all the things he never fully accepted about himself have been dragged out into the open to be used against him.

Not only that, but he is powerless in face of it. Harvey has always prided himself on being the one to hold the power in conversations. He turns the biggest disadvantages into advantages. He is never powerless.

But here he is. He holds no power, he doesn’t even know who is leveraging this against him. He is vulnerable and weak and he hates it all.

He sits on his couch in his pajamas and his old oversized Harvard sweater he has dug up. In his lap is a pint of ice cream that he is eating, feeling terrible about his body too. However, he hasn’t been able to bring himself to go out running these past few weeks. All his outfits made him look feminine or were too gay.

Harvey thought he stopped caring about that a long time ago, ignore pimp and prissy comments about his appearance. Apparently not, though. He just taught himself to forget the judgments that come with it and it only took being reminded to slide right back.

Outside the sky brightens and darkens again, but Harvey doesn’t care. In his apartment he might be lonely, but he is also safe. They can’t get to him here.

He’s shaken out of his misery by a knock at his door. He freezes, waiting for Donna or Mike to start yelling to let them in, because he can’t think of anyone else coming here.

When neither are forthcoming, he gets curious. Cautiously he gets off the couch and makes his way to the door. He peers through the peep hole, coming face to face with an empty hallway. For a moment he thinks he has imagined it, then he steps on something.

Looking down he sees a manila envelope that had been badly shoved under his door. His hands start to shake as he opens the door to pick it up, needing to see what’s inside.

Innocently the envelope stares up at him as he struggles to open it, practically ripping it open as the contents partially fall out. His brain is buzzing as he grabs the few still in the envelope and looks at them. It is more pictures.

These pictures are different though. They’re not older pictures, but recent. Most of these were taken this week and he is clothed in all of them. He is also at home in all of them.

Blood freezes in his veins as he flips through them.

Him coming home, taking off his shoes. Him standing in the kitchen to cook. Him looking out over the skyline, phone in hand. Him crying on his couch…

Between the pictures there is a note: We can replace the camera with something else and a PO box with the date tomorrow beneath it. The deadline is before the meeting.

The fear grips him. It burns as it moves down his neck, sweat sprouting as it envelops his heart. He stumbles backwards, feeling the need to hide or flee, which one he isn’t sure yet, but he can’t focus on choosing.

Breathing is increasingly difficult and Harvey feels like he’s dying. His brain yells at him to get water for his dry throat, as if water will fix it. While another part flashes the picture of his kitchen in his mind to remind him it’s not safe there.

He stumbles through his apartment, hands thrust forwards to look for something he can hold onto that will end this.

In the end his knees give out and he hides behind his couch, huddling into himself to get away from prying eyes. His frame is shaking, he’s chocking on breaths he can’t probably inhale, he can barely see through blurry eyes and the fear overwhelms him.

‘We’re going to pass out!’ it screams. ‘We’re dying! This is it. We can’t breathe. Help!’

Suddenly there is a hand on his shoulder. Harvey can’t see and the blood rushing past his ears makes it hard to hear, so he’s defenseless as he shrinks away, waiting for the attack.

This is what they wanted, his brain tells him. They got you in a vulnerable position and now they’re coming for you and killing you.

Though his panic he doesn’t recognize the voice calling his name as Mike’s, who had gone up to check on him when he didn’t reply to messages all day, which was extra suspicious with the meeting coming up and how he’d been acting recently.

Mike, who had arrived to an open door, papers scattered everywhere and no reply to his call. Who had found Harvey curled up in a ball scared and not breathing right. Luckily, Mike knows quite a bit about panic attacks.

Slowly Harvey realizes that he’s not being grabbed and when Mike calls his name again, he recognizes him. He’s too relieved to be humiliated about how he must look that he can only say in strangled voice: “Mike?”

“Yeah, Harvey, it’s me, Mike,” Mike replies comfortingly. “I’m going to take your hand now, alright?”

Harvey nods, unable to do much more.

His hand is taken by Mike and he considers letting go. It’s a bit intimate, isn’t it? Somehow that scared thought is the only clear one between the panic. But then Mike places his hand against his chest and starts to do exaggerated breaths, encouraging Harvey to follow his lead.

Bit by bit, Harvey manages. Gasping breaths turning into shallow ones, before he is breathing semi-regularly. All throughout Mike keeps up a stream of approving comments, telling Harvey that he was doing so well and to just breathe.

“I’m fine,” is the first thing Harvey manages to say, scooting away from Mike, not seeing how it breaks Mike’s heart that he shies away like that.

“You’re not,” Mike tells him. “Please, Harvey, what happened? Stop shutting me out. You haven’t been yourself the past weeks. I’m worried about you.”

“Nothing happened,” Harvey lies, not sure why he even is at this point. Mike found him crying in the middle of a panic attack wearing sweatpants and an oversized sweater, he is beyond dignity right now.

“Your door was open and there were a bunch of papers on the ground,” Mike says. “I thought you were attacked. Please, Harvey, just talk to me.”

Again that please, so genuine and kind, just like Mike always is, those pleading eyes holding nothing but good intentions. All that can melt away. Harvey has seen it before. Mike just isn’t a friend he can risk like that.

“Let it go, Mike,” he asks, the request sounding like a plea even to his own ears.

“What are you caught up in that you can’t tell me?” Mike asks. “I know there is something, so don’t try to lie to me again. You’ve been distracted and you’re pushing me and Donna away. You weren’t answering your phone and you’re getting sloppy. I found a giant loophole in your contract. It’s what I came to talk to you about. Lemmin Inc. can nullify this deal whenever, if they want. It isn’t like you to let those things slip by you.”

Harvey cringes at Mike finding his shame. His defeat. Subconsciously he curls into himself and doesn’t meet Mike’s eyes.

In that moment, Mike knows something bigger is at play here and Harvey needs a moment, if Mike wants to convince him to talk. So, he pretends to let it go for the moment, getting up and offering a hand as he says: “Fine, if you don’t want to tell me. But you had a panic attack and I’m not leaving you alone without a cup of tea.”

He accepts Mike’s hand and tries to ignore the memory of the picture that is burned into his mind as he sits at the breakfast bar, Mike starting the kettle.

It’s quiet as the water boils and Mike takes a second to close the front door when going to the bathroom, picking up the scattered pictures on his way back. Curiosity winning out.

Harvey freezes while pouring the tea, his heart sinking as Mike reenters the kitchen holding a stack of pictures, concerned frown on his face. He meets Harvey’s eyes and asks: “What are these?”

“Pictures?” Harvey offers after swallowing thickly, setting the kettle aside and dropping to his chair, his knees a bit weak.

“Yeah, pictures of you in your apartment with a very obvious threat accompanying them,” Mike says. “What the hell is going on, Harvey? This is serious.”

The last thing Harvey wants to do is tell Mike why he found that giant loophole, but Harvey is exhausted, emotionally drained and tired of arguing. He just wants this to be done, cry some more, even get a hug if he dares to be honest.

“Harvey?” Mike prompts.

“I’m being blackmailed,” Harvey admits in a small voice.

“What?” Mike can’t stop the exclamation, hand slapping over his mouth as the word leaves his lips, though Harvey can’t blame him.

He curls into himself on the chair, cradling the cup closer. He bites his lips, then exhales, shoulders dropping as he replies: “I know.”

Mike gapes for a moment, then sets the pictures down on the counter, the one of Harvey crying staring up at him. He sits down next to Harvey and does the understanding face he uses on clients (one that is just genuine, but Harvey can never quite believe Mike does care about everyone he represents) to look at Harvey as he asks: “What do they have on you?”

“’m not telling you,” Harvey answers, only look down to the counter. “I’m not stupid.”

“I won’t use it against you I swear,” Mike promises. “One, I’m your friend and I just wouldn’t do that to you. And two, you know that I didn’t go to Harvard. You can quite literally ruin me whenever you please.”

“As you so kindly pointed out on your first day, you can take me down as well,” Harvey reminds him. “Trust me, when this,” he gestures between them, “goes to shit, your a little fish compared to me.”

Mike sighs, then tries again: “Still, I won’t use whatever it is again you. You’re in a rough spot, like I was with Trevor. Consider it returning to favor if that will convince you.”

Now it’s Harvey’s turn to sigh, burying his head in his arms. He doesn’t want Mike to know. He’s humiliated and insecure about it, maybe a bit disgusted with himself that he couldn’t stop himself from giving in to the temptation. Fuck, growing up Christian really fucks with a person.

But he’s also lonely and vulnerable. He’s been fighting this alone and all he wants is to have someone to lean on, something Mike is offering. Not only that, but Mike is Harvey’s closest friend next to Donna. He has proven himself to be trustworthy and somehow Harvey finds himself believing Mike’s promises.

“They have pictures of me with a few of my one night stands,” Harvey admits softly, hoping to obfuscate who the one night stands are if he can.

“They can’t spread those, if they do they’re violating section 245.15, section 52-B and 52-C,” Mike says. “Not to mention the blackmail and assault charges.”

“It’s not like I can just sue them,” Harvey replies. “I don’t even know who’s blackmailing me and if I do go to the police and the court about it, everyone will know what they have. I’ll be ruined, Mike.”

“Everyone knows you have a lot of one night stands. The pictures will be sealed by the courts and whoever is doing this will be locked up,” Mike argues, exactly what Harvey told himself on those nights he warred internally.

And if he wants to show Mike, why that is incorrect and he’ll still be ruined, then he will have to come clean – well, come out – about who those one night stands were. But Mike knows the law inside out, if anyone can figure something out, it’s Mike. So, he’ll just have to trust that the kid knows how to keep his mouth shut.

“It’s not like that,” Harvey starts, unable to verbalize it.

“What?”

Frustrated Harvey groans, then opens the drawer next to him wherein he has hidden all the other pictures so that he could check each morning that they hadn’t been touched. A small part of his brain knows that this is worse than just saying it, but his mouth is filled with spiderwebs and he can’t make the sounds necessary to tell Mike.

The picture he takes out is of him and a guy whose name he has forgotten. It’s a rather tame one, most of their clothes are still on. Nameless guy still has his shirt and jeans on and is busy unbuttoning Harvey’s shirt. They’re clearly kissing with Harvey being seated on the counter of the guy’s apartment, pressed back against it.

He always made sure to go home with guys, so he would be the one doing the walk of shame in the morning. It gave him the illusion from coming from anywhere, perhaps a lady. Control where he could get it.

“This is not exactly what they’re expecting,” he says, handing Mike the picture. Still unable to look him in the eye.

Next to him, Mike lets out a surprised noise as he sees what’s in the picture. Tensely Harvey waits for the other shoe to drop, the judgment that is about to come down.

“I didn’t know you were queer. What do you identify as? If you want to tell me, of course,” Mike breaks the silence in the most unexpected way.

Stunned, it takes Harvey a moment to find his words, then, for the first time in his life, he say: “I, uhm, I’m bi. Bisexual.”

Uncertainly he meets Mike’s eyes again and finds only kindness in them as Mike smiles: “Great! Me too. Thank you for trusting me with that.”

“What?” Harvey doesn’t even care that his voice is quivery and so, so small. He had never come out like that and to have Mike’s sincere thanks for his trust along with seemingly unconditional support is so much more than Harvey ever thought he would have.

“Yeah,” Mike says, not picking up on all that. “Let me tell you, Trevor as a best friend is pretty bad, but Trevor as a boyfriend is worse.”

Mike sounds so casual when talking about it, like there is no shame in being with another man. Not only physically, but emotionally too. He is comfortable with himself, confident and completely himself. He’s all Harvey never could be.

He isn’t aware of the tears that are falling again, until Mike frowns and wipes them away. A sympathetic look comes over his face. He smiles sadly and softly says: “I get it.” And Harvey believes him.

The tears turn into sobs as Harvey cries for all the things he never allows himself to have, all the ways he’s brought himself down, all the moments he didn’t take. All the loves he let go. He cries and lets himself be held by Mike as he does.

A part of him tells him this is weird. Mike is his friend, sure, but he’s also the kid’s boss and mentor, he shouldn’t be comforted like this by him. However, Mike is his equal too and Mike gets it. He isn’t alone here and after the horror that has been his life, he allows himself the bit of comfort he has been given.

Mike for his part, doesn’t complain. He sits there and rubs Harvey’s back as he whispers comforts into his hair and holds him, not caring about his shoulder getting soaked.

They sit there for what feels like hours, until Harvey can’t cry anymore and their tea has long since turned cold. As he runs out of tears to cry, the humiliation creeps in and when Harvey untangles himself, he again ignores Mike’s eyes as he leans back and crosses his own arms to create a barrier between them.

He hears Mike huff, but it sounds vaguely amused not offended or mocking. So, he risks a glance at his face surprised that he finds an easily, soft, almost expectant yet patient expression, like he is waiting for Harvey to gather his bearings.

When he sees Harvey looking up, he says: “It’s okay, promise. You have no clue how much I cried about figuring it all out. Here, I’ll make us a new cup of tea, you just sit for a second longer.”

The confusion that must be written all over his face is graciously ignored as Mike gives him his privacy while making tea. Harvey has never been more grateful for Mike than in that moment. The kid is kind and understanding without coming across as condescending or judgmental, not to mention loyal to the bone.

With Mike’s back turned, he wipes his eyes and blows his nose to get the runny, stuffy feeling away. He takes a few breaths and closes his eyes. The exhaustion of the panic attack, followed by the emotional roller coaster is starting to hit, but after stretching he feels a bit more awake.

By that time, Mike is done with the tea and sits back down next to Harvey: “Okay, so I’m thinking, we get comfortable and settle in for a long night to figure out what to do now. Are you okay with staying here?”

Harvey thinks for a moment. They can obviously follow his every move in here, maybe they’re even watching him now.

But with the deadline tomorrow, he hopes they won’t do anything yet. If they leave, they’ll know where Mike lives and he’s not letting them, nor is he booking a hotel room for them (it’s quite obvious Mike isn’t leaving and Harvey doesn’t want to admit how grateful he is for that), because he is aware of how that could be twisted in court if it comes to that.

“I’m fine here, if, uhm, if we can go to my study or something. A place with less windows,” he answers after a second of deliberation.

“Alright,” Mike agrees, getting up to follow Harvey, who leads him to his study, which has less windows to make place for all the books. As they leave the kitchen, Mike takes the threatening note with him.

All starts to feel a bit more normal again as Mike gapes at his study. He walks by all the books, eyes gliding over his spine. He comments: “Give me like, a month in here and I will be in heaven and a better lawyer, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude,” Harvey’s standard reply comes and he smirks at Mike standard pout as he launches into his standard protest of why he should be allowed to call Harvey dude.

Once they have gone through those motions and are sitting comfortably, Mike starts: “So, what do they want you to do? Like next to the giant loophole you put in that contract.”

Harvey cringes a bit when Mike mentions the contract and asks: “Did anyone besides you see that contract?”

“No, I thought the email was odd, so I read it and when I saw, I thought you were loosing it or something and didn’t want anyone to accidentally send it thinking it was the right one,” Mike replies with a shrug. “I deleted it. I could recreate it if you were really upset about it.”

“Thank you.” Harvey scares himself a bit by how sincere that was, but Mike deserves all the sincere thanks he can give him. And after all that has happened, he cuts himself some slack at the amount of control he has over his emotions.

Mike smiles. “Not a problem.” Then dives back into the previous conversation topic. “So, what did they want from you.”

“They wanted me to sabotage the take over and let Lemmin Inc. and they wanted me to give them weak points to exploit from both sides,” Harvey says, picking up the paper. “And deliver those to this address.”

“Hmm,” Mike hum as he inspects the paper, idly commenting: “So, basically make you break confidentiality and commit malpractice?”

“Jup,” Harvey sighs, slumping in his seat.

Across from him, Mike frowns at the paper. Curiously he says: “That’s odd.”

“What is?”

“I recognize that address from my delivery days,” Mike answers. “It’s a Lemmin Inc. PO box, so whoever is doing this is from inside the company.”

“Well, it’s not the CEO, he wants to sell to our client,” Harvey says. “So someone who doesn’t want that. Are employee’s being cut?”

“No, but whoever is next to take over the company will likely be pissed he’s not inheriting a successful company,” Mike replies, sitting up straighter as his eyes get the same look they always get when he’s mentally reading something over again. “Lynus Chairroot. CFO and the one to take over if the current CEO went. He wouldn’t like not running things. He has invested years in the company.”

“Chairroot,” Harvey repeats, thinking back if he remembers the man. A light goes on in his mind and he nods: “He’s the guy. I met him at a party years ago. He flirted with me, I turned him down. I thought he looked familiar.”

“Well, good call, I don’t think a guy who does this,” Mike gestures to the pictures, “would respect boundaries.”

“So we know who did it,” Harvey says. “Now what? We don’t have the time to get material against him, before the meeting tomorrow to leverage him into not doing anything with those pictures.”

“We don’t have to,” Mike tells him and he has that glint in his eyes he always gets whenever he thinks of something brilliant.

Harvey feels relief flood through his veins, that look means results, that look hasn’t failed him yet. Mike and his wonderful brain haven’t failed him yet. He prompts: “What are you thinking?”

“Blackmail and revenge porn are both a class A misdemeanor. Up to one year in jail and a fine up to 2.500 dollar, yeah? However, with this,” he holds up the threat from today, “this can be a stalking harassment case that falls under RCW 9A.46.020. That’s a class C misdemeanor punishable with up to five years behind bars and fines up to 10.000 dollar. What would you plead guilty to? We have evidence for both and it’s much better for us to file for stalking and these,” he holds up the not-nude pictures, “will be evidence enough.”

Slowly a grin appears on Harvey’s face as he gets what Mike is saying. “We just need to get him to plead guilty to blackmail and agree not to press charges in turn for all copies.”

“Exactly,” Mike says, looking quite pleased with himself.

“You’re becoming quite the lawyer,” Harvey compliments him.

Mike preens, but plays it off. “What can I say, I’m a natural.”

“Only one problem. How do we get him to sign that before the meeting tomorrow and what are we going to do if we come there without a deal, because my last one sucked,” Harvey asks.

“Well, one problem is fixed, I wrote a new deal and I was coming here to present it to you, but I got sidetracked,” Mike says and Harvey could kiss him (not like that, but metaphorically, Mike is his kid).

“Alright, so what do we do about Chairroot?”

“Uhm, it’s 11 PM now, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Not an unreasonable hour. We can just call him and tell him to meet us,” Mike suggests.

“And why the hell would he do that?”

“I don’t know, if the guy you’re blackmailing figures out it’s you and contacts you, one might be inclined to hear you out?” Mike shrugs. “You’re the expert manipulator here.”

Harvey thinks it over and has to agree with the kid, so he asks if he has a number. The kid, of course, read it somewhere and rattles it off without issue. Soon, Harvey is listening to the dial tone, Mike working on their affidavit.

It doesn’t take long for a nasally voice to greet: “Lynus Chairroot speaking, who is calling at this hour?”

“Hi, Lynus, this is Harvey Specter,” Harvey greets finding sick joy in the terrified swallow that comes through.

“Why are you calling me,” Chairroot bravely squeaks. “You’re not allowed to talk to me without my lawyer present.”

“Oh, but I am,” Harvey informs him pleasantly. “Lemmin Inc. is hired by the CEO not the CFO and I’m not here on my clients behalf, nor here for Lemmin Inc. business. We both know that. I’m here for you, Lynus, on behalf of myself.”

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Cut the crap, Lynus,” Harvey hisses. “You’ve been blackmailing me – well, trying to, at least – and I’m done with it.”

“You’re crazy,” Chairroot accuses in a last ditch effort.

“We both know I’m not. You have strong motive, you even gave me your address. And when I sue you, I’ll subpoena your records and they’ll show all the people you hired to follow me and how much you paid them to do so,” Harvey informs him. “So, let’s not play dumb.”

There is a silence, then a sigh, before Chairroot goes: “Yeah, it was me. What do you want?”

Harvey raises a brow at Mike, who nods. The phone is on speaker and Mike can be his witness, his amazing memory making him very reliable. They already have a confession.

“I want to meet,” Harvey says. “Central Park, Ballfields Cafe. Meet me in an hour. Bring all the copies you have. All of them.”

“Alright,” Chairroot agrees and hangs up.

When he does, Mike speaks up and says: “This guy is a fucking idiot.”

“Yeah, he is,” Harvey says, getting up. “I’m taking a shower. How’s the affidavit coming along?”

“If he signs, we’re solid,” Mike says.

Harvey nods, before going to shower. He scrubs off all the eyes he has felt on his skin, all the tears and the terrible few weeks he’s had. When he’s done he changes his sweatpants in for a suit, putting on the layers like an armor.

He’s the great Harvey Specter and he can crush whoever he likes, no matter what they think they have on him.

When he’s done, he checks his reflection one last time in the mirror, nodding in satisfaction at the confident man looking back at him. Then he takes a deep breath, before leaving the bathroom, ready to face Chairroot.

Mike is waiting for him, giving him the affidavit to look over while he hails a taxi.

They arrive at Central Park just in time and walk over to the closed down cafe. Chairroot is waiting for them, briefcase in hand. A rage comes over Harvey at the sight of him, but he suppresses it under a cold demeanor as he greets: “Lynus.”

“Harvey,” Chairroot returns the greeting. “You didn’t come alone,” he asks an unspoken question.

“Never said we had to,” Harvey informs him with a shark-like grin.

“I brought all the copies,” Chairroot offers, showing the briefcase.

“And the digital ones?”

“Deleted them all,” Chairroot says. “Except for the ones on the USB drive that’s in here.”

“Alright,” Harvey nods, he doesn’t trust Chairroot, but if this goes right, he’ll have leverage to throw him in jail, so he lets it go. “I want to make a deal.”

“What kind of deal?” Chairroot asks.

“You’ll sign this affidavit admitting you tried to blackmail Harvey, hand over all the copies and in turn we won’t sue you into the ground,” Mike tells him, presenting the affidavit to him with a flourish.

“Why would I do that?” Chairroot chuckles. “If you sue me, all these pictures will circulate and your dirty secret will be seen by everyone.”

Harvey feels his hands tighten into fists and he can barely speak through the anger. Fortunately, Mike is there and does the talking. “Because if we sue you, we’re not suing you for blackmail, but for stalking harassment, which has up to five years in prison and fines up to 10.000 dollars. And trust me when I say that we’ll ensure you’re getting the maximum sentence possible.”

“You can’t do that,” Chairroots says, starting to look scared.

“But we can,” Mike informs him with a grin he learned for Harvey. “You gave us many, less compromising pictures, of Harvey in his own apartment, not to mention a death threat. We won’t ever need to mention the other pictures at trial and if you do, we can just sue you for blackmail, revenge porn, maybe we can even make it inflammation.”

“You’re stuck, Lynus,” Harvey tells him gleeful. “Just sign the damn papers.”

“I have to discuss this with my lawyer,” Chairroot protests.

“Too bad, this deal expires when we leave this meeting,” Harvey says.

Chairroot is sweating and Mike and Harvey wait calmly for him to crack. They know how to play this game and right now, they’re holding all aces. It’s just a matter of time.

“Alright, give me a pen,” and there Chairroot breaks.

Under their careful eyes, he signs the paper and Mike snatches it back and puts it away safely, while Harvey accepts the copies. As he does he leans in close and hisses: “If you ever try anything like this again, I have you by the balls. And next time, I’m kicking your ass. So, these better are all the copies, clear?”

Terrified Chairroot nods and assures Harvey that these are indeed all the copies.

Satisfied with the deal and glad to leave the whole thing behind him, Harvey walks away. Mentally he is already deciding to invest in privacy windows everywhere, not just his bedroom, but overall he thinks he’ll be able to live in his apartment without issue in due time after this. Mostly he’s just happy that it is all over.

However, the whole thing has drained him and he falls asleep in the cab back. He wakes up after Mike pokes him a few times and furrows his brow, which makes the other laugh.

“Come one,” Mike tells him. “Donna told me once your guest mattress is the softest and I’m not about to be deprived of that.”

And it isn’t until Mike says that that Harvey can let go of the entire thing. Tonight he doesn’t want to be alone and he doesn’t have to, because Mike is there and Mike will always be there by his side, no matter what.

To make Mike smile, he puts on an old man act as he groans and stretches when getting out of the cab. It works and he’s pleased with himself.

In the condo, they gather all the pictures and Harvey puts them in a box and hides them deep in a closet, hoping he’ll never have to find them to use as evidence.

After that he loans Mike some sweats and a t-shirt to sleep in, changing back into his own pajamas too as he gets Mike a new toothbrush. They brush their teeth together and Harvey rolls his eyes at Mike attempting to talk while brushing his teeth.

It’s weirdly comfortable and Harvey realizes he’s never felt more at ease than in this moment.

He loves his father, but the man wasn’t the best in pushing something other than straight masculinity and that damaged Harvey more than he had realized. Until now, he hadn’t noticed how much of his brain was occupied with projecting the ‘right’ image. And now tired he is of censoring it all.

“What are you thinking off?” Mike asks, finally spitting out his toothpaste, thank god.

“I don’t know,” Harvey shrugs. “Just that I want to let go of all the straight toxic stuff, but I can’t, now can I? You see how that turns out.”

Mike thinks about it for a second, then says: “I mean, I get why you don’t want anyone to know. It’s not like I’m very open about it at work, but you shouldn’t have hide a part of yourself if you don’t want to.”

“How?” Harvey asks, for once inexperienced and unsure somewhere.

“Well, I would start with creating an environment you do feel comfortable,” Mike shrugs. “It’s easier if you know other queer people. I’m your friend, right? You can start there. I’ll show you the queer classic movies and you can comment on the hotness of all actors without judgment. If you’re comfortable there, I can take you to meet some more of my queer friends. After that, it’s finding where you’re the most comfortable.”

“It’s that easy?” Harvey raises a brow that tells Mike he doesn’t believe him, but it also hides how touched he is that Mike is there for him without question or hesitation.

“Nothing is that easy,” Mike smiles, “but it’s not as terrible as you will fear. Promise.”

“Thank you,” Harvey says, the word not enough for all he does want to say, but he can’t find the words for that.

“Of course,” Mike smiles, as if he gets it. And, if he’s honest, Harvey knows that Mike does get it, which is only more comforting.

Then Mike opens his arms and grins: “Come on. Lesson one, hugs are great and contrary to what society told you, you can enjoy them just as well. So, bring it in. You need one.”

Harvey hesitates for a second, then realizes this is one of the least embarrassing things he’s done this evening. So, he steps into Mike’s arms and lets himself be hugged, even hugging back after a second.

Mike is right, of course. The hug is nice and Harvey closes his eyes as he lets the stress and sadness melt away, a calming comfort coming over him.

When they let go, Harvey feels much better and he smiles at Mike, who cheekily says: “See, the world didn’t end.”

“You’re an idiot,” Harvey informs him.

“And you chose to be my friend anyway,” Mike informs him happily. “Now, I have a mattress to disappear into, so I will see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Harvey replies as Mike disappears into the guest room.

He knows he has a long road to go, before he will be comfortable with who he is, but he isn’t alone anymore and he isn’t scared. He knows he has someone he can rely on and that makes all the difference to him.

A/N:

Ngl, I made myself upset at the image of Harvey crying by himself, yet not alone, to be exploited and used against him. Like, bro, he already has so many trust issues (amongst others) why am I doing this to him??

I also know more about law now, so go me. This will never be useful in any other context bc I do not live in New York or America in general and likely never will.

((also for my fellow nerds both Lynus and Chair are based off roots for the word Lemon aka the word on which I based Lemmin))

For those confused about why this is a request, these were left on my ao3 in the comments. But I prefer to get them here, so I dont loose them. However, these people didn't have a tumblr, so free pass ;p

#RR writing #tw: stalking #tw: blackmail #tw: internalized homophobia #tw: homophobia mention #tw: panic attack #harvey specter #harvey and mike #mike ross #suits tv show #suits fanfic #suits tv #suits #request

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