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spider-stark · 1 year

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SPLIT LIP

HARRY OSBORN X READER

Summary - Harry gets into a fight and emotions start to unfold.

Warnings - 18+, angst, lil fluff, smut, blood, unprotected sex

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

HE KEPT his head low as he weaved through the bustling crowd, ignoring the low gasps that slipped from the lips of those who somehow managed to catch a glimpse of his face.

None of them knew what happened, not yet at least, but he figured it wouldn’t be long before it spread around. There had been at least a dozen people out on the balcony when it all started, and given his social status it wasn’t exactly presumptuous to assume that most of them had likely recorded the encounter.

It wouldn’t surprise him in the slightest if he woke up tomorrow with a bunch of angry voicemails from his publicist, likely accompanied by screenshots of people making fun of him on Instagram for getting his ass handed to him by some random no name guy.

But it hadn’t been some random no name.

Not to Harry, at least.

He hadn’t been aware that he was holding his breath until he finally reached the private salvation of his bedroom, his needy lungs leaving him gasping for air as he crossed the threshold, roughly swinging the door shut behind him.

It shouldn’t have surprised him when it refused to close, and it certainly shouldn’t have surprised him when he turned to see your hand pressed flat against the pine, holding it open.

But it did.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Osborn?”

Harry figured the use of his last name wasn’t a good sign and it left a particularly sour taste in his mouth (though perhaps that was just the blood he was tasting). He hadn’t realized how accustomed he had become to the cute little pet names you used for him until now, or just how much the absence of them would affect him.

Of course he didn’t let that show though. Instead, he grumbled out a rough, “Stop following me,” before continuing to trudge towards the private bathroom.

But you had grown familiar with his evasive behavior, gotten used to his lack of vulnerability, and you rarely ever let him achieve the goal that stood behind his aloof persona; to drive you away.

So you marched right behind him, mimicking his past action by pushing the door shut as you moved. This time it met no resistance, immediately clicking shut.

There was no one else coming to check on him.

“Do you have any clue how stupid that was?”

You felt like you could barely breathe as your heart rammed against your ribcage, the sound of blood rushing loudly thrumming in your ears and making it difficult to focus. Your reaction wasn’t fueled by anger, though, rather an innate fear that consumed you as soon as Peter’s fist first collided with Harry’s face.

“Apologies, darling, but I’m already gonna get an earful from the board tomorrow about how this will affect my image as CEO, alright?” He pressed his palms against the cool marble countertop and spat into the sink. You watched as the blood-tinged spit crept towards the drain as he added on, “So, please, spare me the lecture.”

The polite phrase was laced with contempt, effectively removing any trace of its inborn goodwill. But that wasn’t what had caught your attention.

A dry chuckle ripped through you, and if he had bothered to lift his head up then he would’ve seen your eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Do you really think I give a shit about your image?”

Your jaw remained slack as disbelief washed over you, leaving your head shaking. Harry Osborn was one of the most intelligent men you’d ever met, yet it never failed to amaze you just how dense he could be.

Harry’s shoulders sank a little, failing to go unnoticed by you. His lip curled, a pang of nausea coming over him. He couldn’t tell if it was caused by his injuries or from the unfamiliarity of sharing even a shred of his emotions, his voice breaking slightly as he said, “What else is there?”

“Your face?!” You cried out without hesitation. It didn’t bother you that Harry still assumed you had any regard for his status, you expected that much. But it did bother you that he didn’t think there was anything else about himself worth caring about.

Still, even your well-intentioned statement sent another wave of panic rippling throughout him, his fingers gripping the marble even harder now.

You hadn’t meant it in a shallow sort of way, even he knew that much, but it frightened him anyway. Harry already felt like he was losing his grip on everything that made him important—that made him worthy of love.

He was losing his grip on all of it; his money, his status, his career. But now he found himself staring down at the scaly patch of skin accompanying his now-bruising knuckles, beginning to realize that as his disease progressed he would be losing something else too.

What would be left of him? It was an ignorant thought, one that he knew had been fueled by his fight with Peter, but he couldn’t help but wonder anyways. What would be left for you to love when once he could no longer rely on his riches, his rank, or his allure? He knew that you weren’t shallow enough to actually care about those things, yet it still made him feel sick to his stomach.

That’s all he had ever been to anyone. A symbol, a prize, an image. He had never really felt like a person before, at least not one that people cared about. After all, no one had ever treated him like one—not his friends at boarding school, not the women who chased him, not even his own father.

Sometimes he worried that maybe there had been a reason for it. Maybe they had taken the time to peer beneath the surface, only to discover that they didn’t like what they saw. Maybe, just maybe, there truly wasn’t anything good about him aside from what he could offer others.

You almost seemed to read his mind, your demeanor softening as you watched him lean further into the counter, his mind reeling as he absently stared at the drops of blood dripping from his nose spattering into the sink.

“You know what Peter said isn’t true, right?" You took a half-step towards him, slowly closing the few feet that stood between you. You kept your voice low and soft, careful not to sound patronizing.

Harry only scoffed, moving his hand from the counter to his face. He didn’t want you to see it, whatever traces of the fist fight had been left. He hadn’t even seen it himself yet, refusing to look into the mirror.

“I’m serious, Harr.” You cooed, now close enough to place a hand against his back. He stiffened at the touch—comfort still something that was entirely foreign to him, but the pet name still soothed some of the ache in his chest. “He was just pissed, okay? So he took a few cheap shots cause he knew they’d hurt you. But that doesn’t make them true.”

They were the truth though, weren’t they?

Peter wasn’t the first one to call him out. There had been a long line of women and men alike that had spewed the same insults at him, making note of his arrogant persona and the silver spoon that hung from his lips.

But he had been the first one that had been close enough to Harry to know what insecurities to prey on in order to cut him deep. He knew about Harry’s fear of failure, the loneliness that ate at him, the crippling self-loathing that never went away.

More than that, he knew just how terrified Harry was of you seeing him the way he saw himself. And Peter knew that in an entirely selfish and fucked up way, Harry was scared absolutely shitless that you would realize that you deserved so much better than him—that you deserved someone like Peter.

“Harry-” Your hand drifted from his back to his shoulder, gently grabbing it and intending to turn him towards you, to force him to look at you.

But he refused to move. His entire attitude turned on a dime, posture straightening, though his head remained low and turned opposite of you, interrupting you with a tone sharp enough that could cut glass. “This isn’t working out.”

Your eyes widened as his words registered with you, but you didn’t move aside from that, willing your body not to react. He didn’t really mean it, although that didn’t make it any easier to hear. You knew that he was spiraling, and any attempt to disagree with him would just add fuel to an already growing fire.

So you didn’t disagree with him. Instead you crossed your arms firmly over your chest and gave a curt nod, smacking your lips as you said, “Okay.”

Harry wasn’t sure if he had expected that response from you, but he did expect you to leave. He couldn’t quite imagine the hurt that would come with watching you walk out the door, though he knew it would likely be insurmountable. There was also a hint of satisfaction, though, as he recognized that you too would leave him.

Everyone left eventually, he figured, and so maybe it was best to just get it out of the way now. Maybe it was best that he stopped wasting your time, that he didn’t force you to sit around and squander your life away on a dying man.

But you didn’t leave, shocking him as you dropped to your knees beside him, beginning to rummage through a cabinet for the first aid kit you knew was hiding somewhere within it.

When you once again rose to your feet, first aid kit in hand, you grabbed a clean cloth from the linen closet before once again coming to stand directly beside him. You didn’t have to try and forcibly move him this time, finding no need in urging him to look at you for the first time since this conversation had started.

He did it on his own, forgetting about his desire to shield the evidence of the fight from you as he was overwhelmed with a mixture of both confusion and relief.

You weren’t leaving, you hadn’t turned to walk out the door, you weren’t going to do something stupid like chase after Peter—though Harry wondered if it was really all that stupid, as he doubted that Peter would ever act in such a self-sabotaging way. You were just standing there, running warm water onto the cloth with a bit of soap.

Why didn’t you leave?

You frowned as you turned the tap off, turning to look at him and cocking your head to the side. “Guess he’s not puny Parker anymore,” you hummed sarcastically, hoping to use humor to avoid having a more dramatic reaction.

The nickname certainly didn’t fit anymore, as Peter had clearly developed a hell of a right hook sometime after puberty. Blood still oozed from Harry’s nose, and a bit from his busted lip as well, but it was thicker now than before, finally starting to slow down.

Lightly pressing the cloth to his upper lip you began to slowly clean him up, careful not to apply too much pressure. He was gonna bruise, that much was obvious, and you knew that he had been right before. The board would give him hell for this.

“So what was it?” You asked as plainly as possible.

Harry squinted at you. “What are you talking about?”

“You threw the first punch.” You clarified. He flinched when you started to dab around his split lip, and so you tried to make your touch lighter. “So what was it that pushed you over the edge?”

He hesitated, sucking in a breath before mumbling something incoherent. Frowning, you lightly nudged against his leg with your foot. “Gotta be a little louder than that.” You teased him.

For a moment you could’ve sworn you saw his mouth twitch into a slight smile, his eyes rolling slightly. It made you smile, too.

“You know how Peter is,” Harry eventually spoke after another long pause, finally sounding a bit more like himself in spite of the animosity he held towards Pete. “he’s never known when to shut his mouth.”

It was more than he had spoken this whole time, but he still knew from the expectant way you were staring at him that it hadn’t quite been enough to satisfy you. He was holding back and you both knew it.

He sighed. “He was talking about you. Apparently Parker’s incapable of letting go of what could’ve been.”

You couldn’t help but grin at the way he sneered, although you knew it was probably wrong to indulge in him making fun of your friend. To be fair, Peter deserved it sometimes, tonight being a prime example of that.

There might’ve been a time in which you would’ve jumped at the opportunity to be with Peter, but that ship had long since sailed, whether Peter liked it or not. If anything, you were thankful that things hadn’t worked out between the two of you, because now you couldn’t imagine a world in which you were with anyone other than Harry.

“Pete’s always been a bit delusional.” You tried to suppress your laugh, still focused on cleaning Harry up. Somewhat satisfied with the amount of blood you’d cleaned from his pale skin, you sat the cloth down on the counter and reached for the first aid kid.

Another brief moment of silence settled over you both as Harry battled with himself again, debating letting another moment of vulnerability slip out. You didn’t dare say anything, allowing him time to process his thoughts as you grabbed a stack of gauze from the kit.

His tongue carefully traced over his bottom lip, his face screwing up as the subtle movement agitated the wound on it, the taste of copper overwhelming his senses. “Is he?”

Those two little words were all he was willing to share, but they told you more than enough, guiding you towards the type of comfort he needed right now.

You nodded, folding a piece of gauze over onto itself, your gaze fixating on the shiny spot of red dripping from his lip. You pressed the gauze against it, applying some pressure. “I think so.” You told him. “I couldn’t imagine being with someone like Peter.”

Harry’s brows snapped together at the claim, clearly unwilling to believe it. “Oh, you mean someone kind and caring and who literally has an IQ of two-fucking-fifty?”

It was your turn to react, donning a much more lighthearted expression than his as you struggled to contain your amusement at the sight of his cerulean eyes growing so wide. “Do you want to date Peter, Har?”

He practically growled at your joke, and admittedly the sound affected you far more than it should’ve. Your cheeks developed a slight red-tinge, trying to regain your focus on his wounds as you moved to replace the gauze you were holding.

“No,” he spoke roughly, “I’m just trying to say that he’s exactly the type of guy you should want to be with.”

Your nose wrinkled, making it clear that you disagreed with his statement. You halted your previous movements, leaving the gauze where it laid on the counter and offering your hand to him. He only stared at it. “Come sit down with me.” you urged, moving it a little closer to his. When he didn’t move again, you tacked on a desperate, “Please.”

Harry had never been good at denying you when you used that voice with him, his heart and brain simultaneously turning to mush whenever you’d flash your best puppy dog eyes.

So he obliged, careful to give you his left hand instead of his right. The one that hadn’t been affected by his disease just yet.

You led him out of the bathroom and back to his bedroom, stopping only when you reached the king sized bed that laid in the middle of the room, making him sit down on it beside you before you were willing to pick your conversation back up.

“Do you really think Peter is the type of guy I should be with?”

It pained you to even consider that Harry truly thought such a thing. For it to be a thought fueled by insecurity would be one thing, but for it to be a God’s honest belief of his would be something else entirely.

He didn’t answer you, only focusing his attention on your hand as it remained wrapped around his. You knew the answer, though, even if you wished you didn’t.

“Okay,” you breathed out, “then let’s talk about a world where I’m with Peter instead of you, okay?”

Harry scowled. “I’d rather not.”

“Too bad.” You shot back, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’re right,” you admitted despite knowing the statement would make him squirm uncomfortably beside you, “Peter is all of those things you mentioned.”

“Great.” Harry grumbled through his teeth, cursing when you then elbowed him in the side for interrupting you.

“But Peter has faults too, Harr. Big ones.” You breathed out a weak laugh. Slowly you tried to piece together your thoughts, carefully choosing your words so they couldn’t be misconstrued by his trauma-ridden mind.

“I don’t like the way Peter makes me feel.” Your tone was cautious, sounding out each syllable with great care.

Harry didn’t bother to look up at you, fixating on the sight of your fingers interlaced with his, but you knew he was listening. He always listened to you.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s my friend and I care about him. But… he treats me like I’m fragile. Like I’m something he needs to save.” You shifted slightly, suddenly feeling a little exposed. But you didn’t let yourself stop, not yet. “I never feel like a person with Peter. Not really, at least.” Harry’s breath caught in his throat. He knew what that was like, though he’s never shared it with you before. “He doesn’t actually see me.”

The admission hung in the air between you for a moment before Harry replied, his voice wavering as he said, “Do I?” You furrowed your brows at him and so he clarified, “Do I make you feel… I don’t know, seen or whatever…”

It was odd to hear Harry speak in such a casual manner, to see the ways in which he tried to come across as dismissive while still working on bearing his emotions to you. You put a great deal of effort into not smiling at it, not wanting your innocent amusement to create any additional insecurity for him.

“Always.” You answered swiftly, lovingly brushing your thumb against the back of his hand. “That’s why I’m with you, Harry.”

His eyes grew glossy, his head immediately dipping down as the tears threatened to spillover. Emotions had always felt like a weakness to him.

But you had grown tired of letting him hide himself away from you tonight. You pried your hand from his, crawling over so you were no longer sitting beside him, your knees pressed into the mattress as your legs settled on either side of him as you sat in his lap.

Tender hands reached to cup his cheeks, collecting the tears that had gathered on them as you gently forced him to look at you once again. At first he tried to fight it, but he soon realized there was no use. He let himself succumb to the comforting nature of your touch, instinctively nuzzling into your hand.

“I’m with you because I love you, Harr.” You hadn’t said those words before, and you refused to look away as you repeated yourself, “I love you. Not your money or Oscorp or anything other than you, okay?” He blinked, more tears escaping as he did, but he didn’t respond. So you repeated yourself again, needing to hear his confirmation, to know that he understood. “You know that, don’t you?”

He truly wanted to believe you, to have absolutely no doubts. But the dark thoughts crept in, filling every corner of his mind. The words of his friends, of past lovers, of his father.

His lip trembled. “But there’s nothing to love.’

You cringed as you felt the weight of that word—love. You’d dreamt of hearing him say it, and you knew that he felt it for you, but you had never imagined it sounding like that.

He said it like it was contaminated, like it was something to fear.

It broke your heart and stunned you at the same time, your mouth left agape as you fell speechless. You weren’t certain of what to say, of what to do to soothe him. You’d always known that Harry had been broken by his past, but this was perhaps the first time that you’d realized how extensive the damage truly was.

His name escaped your mouth, the only thought crossing your mind as you threw your arms around his neck and collapsed against him, nearly sending him tumbling back onto the mattress at the sudden weight. But he braced himself, his own hands moving to your back as he leaned forwards, instinctively balancing out your actions and keeping you both upright.

“There’s so much, Harr.” Your lips were pressed against his ear as you whispered, so desperate for him to hear you. The ache in your own chest grew stronger at the thought of him ever doubting your feelings for him, even for a second. “There are so many things to love about you!”

His body was unmoving against yours as you squeezed him even tighter, turning the tables and fighting against your own emotions now. You held in a sob, wanting your words to be as clear as possible, “You deserve love, Harry Osborn.”

And, for the first time, something inside of him snapped into place. He hadn’t forced you to be here. He hadn’t even asked you to waste your life on a dying man. If anything, he had pushed you away. He had practically begged you to leave on more than one occasion.

But you never did.

You wanted to be here. Not because of what you might gain from him or for what he could offer, but simply because you cared for him. You wanted to take care of him, to clean his wounds and call him out on his bullshit.

He bit his cheek hard enough to draw blood and you gasped as he suddenly mimicked your actions, his arms tightening around you as he buried his face against your neck.

“I love you, y/n.”

The word didn’t sound as harsh this time, as if he had begun to untangle the fear that had others have woven around it. It was light. Genuine.

“I’m bad at showing it—trust me, I know—but I really, really do.”

He let his walls down, forcing himself to swallow his pride right alongside his anxiety. He knew that he didn’t need to put on an act with you, that he didn’t need to cherry pick his words to ensure they wouldn’t be twisted in some malicious way.

With you, he didn’t need to be an Osborn, cruel and calculated.

He could just be Harry.

“I don’t understand it,” he admitted,”but it’s just–I don’t know, I just look at you and I love you so much. I see you and I know that there is nothing that I wouldn’t do for you, absolutely nothing. And you’re just so…” a particularly hard laugh vibrated against your skin, “crazy. Crazy to ever give a shit about someone like me.”

You laughed too. “And you’re an idiot,” you leaned back slightly, sliding a palm in between your bodies to try and push him back a touch, wanting to look at him, “for ever thinking that I’d give a shit about anyone else.’

And as soon as the sentence had left your lips, your eyes drifted to his and seeing the way they gleamed with a glorious mix of both love and lust, it was over.

Your lips collided with his, so fast that it was impossible to tell which of you had started to lean in first. There wasn’t much about it that was gentle, though, despite the innocent admissions that had led to this moment.

With your palms still pressed to his chest you shoved him back against the mattress, feeling it dip beneath your combined weight. Your lips never parted as you laid against him, the two of you locked into an endless hungry kiss that melded into another and another.

One of his hands slides from your waist to your stomach, fingertips delicately tracing your skin, and you felt as if you were on fire everywhere he touched. A soft moan slipped from your mouth and into his, only serving to encourage him further as he started to toy with the button on your jeans.

Your head was spinning by the time he finally pulled away from you, already leaving a wet trail of kisses against your jawline as you gasped for a breath. There was a faint taste of blood in your mouth, a sign that you’d agitated the wound on his lip, but neither of you cared.

It was all you could do to focus on his movements, edging towards your neck, his teeth lightly grazing against your pulse and eliciting a lewd whine. You felt him smirk against your skin at the sound, a firm hand pressing into your waist as he jutted his hips against yours, the friction making him groan before he nipped at your skin again.

“I love you,” he breathed out against your collar bone, his tongue delicately tracing against the sensitive spot, “so much.”

Your own breathing was uneven, entirely uncontrolled as you’d already turned into a writhing mess of moans, your only coherent thoughts fueled by your desire to feel him.

You pulled away from his assault on your throat, and you nearly melted when he looked up at you; darkened eyes pooling with desire, his lips gleaming with a mix of both of your saliva and a bit of blood.

As your gaze drifted south you realized that one thing was clear: he needed to be wearing far less clothing.

There was no hesitation in tugging at the hem of his shirt, urging him to help you remove it. Harry had already unbuttoned your pants, unzipped them, too, and so you quickly shimmied out of them and tossed your own shirt to the side as he worked on his own pants.

You moved to sit on top of him again but he stopped you, changing positions and forcing you to lay back against the mattress, hovering over you. He looked down at your body, admiring it, his index finger tracing along the curve of your waist, your back arching slightly as he moved towards your thigh.

“Needy,” he chastised with a low chuckle, but didn’t hesitate as he began to shift himself lower on the bed, clearly intending on first using his mouth to get you off. You stopped him, though, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

He paused, following your gaze as it settled just below his waist. You licked your lips, voice low as you barely managed to get out, “Please.”

Foreplay felt unnecessary right now, maybe even a touch cruel. You didn’t wanna waste time on it, desperate to have him closer.

Luckily, Harry was never one to deny you what you wanted, already guiding himself towards your entrance, his swollen tip pressing against you before—

There was a fucking knock on the door.

Your head jolted up from the mattress, both of your necks snapping in the direction of the sound, Harry’s dick still in his hand as you both froze.

“Hey Harry,” you nearly groaned, letting your head fall back against the mattress as you heard Peter’s muffled voice through the door. “I just figured we should talk, alright? I wanted to check on you. And apologize, ya know?”

You looked at Harry, his gaze meeting yours. It took every ounce of willpower you had to keep your hips still, your body desperately wanting to grind against him. “Tell him to leave!” You hissed, trying to stay quiet.

Peter knocked again. “Harry?”

You expected Harry to say something dismissive towards Peter, watching as his mouth fell open to speak. But no sound ever came, his blue eyes suddenly twinkling with something strikingly similar to ill intent.

Then, before you’d had time to even unravel his plan he had already roughly sheathed himself fully inside of you, fingernails digging into your hips as a guttural moan fell from your lips, loud enough that Peter surely heard it.

He leaned in close, his breath tickling your ear as he said–“I think he’ll get the message.”

a/n - something quick and lazy that i wrote at school cause why not. not even sure i like it that much but the harry osborn tag needs more content so i figured i might as well post it lmao.

#harry osborn imagine #tasm harry osborn #tasm imagine #harry osborn smut #harry osborn x reader #harry osborn #tasm fic #tasm fanfiction #tasm spiderman #tasm2 #tasm2 imagine #harry osborn angst #harry osborn fluff #mcu imagine #dane dehaan imagine #dane dehaan

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fcknstar · 2 years

Note

hi babe! yup i do actually! i just havent really thought of any ideas, so itd be a pleasure for me to work on your imagine request! but yes, if youd like, i can think of some soon! /// I'm glad you write dark stuff... could you write about harry being a stalker, obsessive, needy, possessive and jealous of the reader? (female reader)

hihi!! thank you for the request, the ending has mentions of bj and if you dont like it you can skip that! im not entirely sure if youll like this but here you go! i might do a redo to this, not entirely sure tho.

,, our own needs "

harryosborn x reader x peterparker

a.n : when i got the request, i was quite excited. its abit challenging but it was fun to work on nonetheless! this is my very very first time writing smut btw!

warnings : possession/obsession/stalker-like-behaviour/needy/jealous harry osborn (thats a mouthful, literally) , MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! , oral sex (m receiving) , masturbation , slight peter parker x reader , lmk if i missed some.

**lowercase intended**

harry seemed like a normal ceo, one that looks strict with a constant expression on which was hardly ever readable. you, being his assistant hardly ever got to know harry. you were just carrying out your job and wanted to get it over quick. harry has 'thrown' himself onto you multiple times, but you were quick to dismiss it thinking that he was probably joking around wanting to keep things professional with him.

what you didnt know was that harry liked you, a lot. probably too much that he knows every detail in your life, what you liked, what you hated, who dated you and so on. what didnt help was the his penthouse was opposite your apartment. he basically saw everything that happened as your apartment was a level lower from his.

" f-fuck, (y/n) " harrys hips buckled into his fist. he tried his hardest to contain his moans, but the images of you changing clouded his mind edged further into his climax. it wasnt his first time masturbating at the thought of you naked, on top of him and tearing him apart or pictures of you that he took without your acknowledgement. he knew hed be damned if you were to find out about his dirty little secrets. as much as he wants to destroy you, he cant help but find himself crumble under your touch.

he didnt know whether it was his hormones changing or the way you knew how to get him weak on his knees. what really did it for him was when you came to work in those filthy black dress that hugged your figure perfectly. the way he had to hold himself back and learn self control before he could even rip your dress apart to fuck you deep and slow, show you who you belong to. but again, it was only his imagination of you that kept him going. as much as he wanted to keep things professional between you both, he couldnt help but imagine the drama and mess that could happen if you found him moaning your name while touching his needy self or worse, someone walking into the whimpering mess you are while harrys in you.

while harry felt a knot deep in his stomach, he saw a cctv camera from his desk, you and someone walking towards the entrance of his office. cursing under his breathe, he had to quickly clean and zip himself up knowing how embarrassed he would be if you and someone foreign were to see him fucking his fist. he felt deeply uncomfortable not being able to release such pain and pleasure he was currently feeling. and there you walked in, with peter parker. right, he was deep in thought of you that he had forgotten his appointment with peter.

" sir, peter parker. " you had missed the way his gaze faltered when you addressed him so highly. the way your voice intoxicated him that he knew he was about to cum on the spot. swallowing harshly and walking towards you and peter not realizing how wobbly he was, knocked down a vase of his desk.

" m sorry, just abit clumsy right now " harry let out a breathy laugh when he saw you walking towards him with such concern in your eyes.

" you okay? " again, it wasnt like he didnt get enough attention from everyone, but the way you showed such sweet concern towards him made him want more. when he saw you kneeling down to help clean the shattered glass, he felt his heart beat faster and vision beginning to blur out. 'so this is how she looks like..' he thought.

but once you picked up a piece of glass, harry stopped you. insisting that he was able to call a cleaner up to clear the mess. nodding, you left the two boys alone.

" bye peter " you gave a little wave towards peter. peters gaze softened, seemingly pleased that you acknowledged him. harry didnt like the way peters gaze followed you out of the door. for a man who got everything in his life, he seemed very jealous of peter. you had never seen peter in your life, and now you are all over peter? waving goodbye to him?

turning around to face harry, peter was quick to notice harrys hard look.

" my assistant, shes very.. " as harry was about to compliment every part of you, wanting to make it clear that you are his and his only, peter cuts him off.

" very beautiful. " harry merely let out a nod, feeling abit too tense. harry and peter had a long conversation about harrys new military body armor that he was going to work on.

when peter walked out of the door after talking to harry, he bumped into you.

" hi. " peter breathed out. he didnt know your name, remembering that you were only referred to as harrys assistant. the only reason why harry didnt want to mention your name was because he felt the need to protect such an angelic name, and wanted to be the only one to moan it while thinking about you.

" hi peter. " you greeted back. it felt as if peter was in a trance when he didnt say anything. laughing quietly, you went around peter to get into harrys office. but before you could even get to it, peter stopped you. you felt your whole body tense up when you felt peters hand touch your stomach. you knew how attractive peter was upon meeting him, how slim and built he was. how gentle his hand touched you. looking up at him, you quirked an eyebrow.

" your name? "

" oh, (y/n). " peter voiced your name out repeatedly in his mind. when peter placed his hand down, you were about to walk past him when he stopped you again.

" heres my number, i want to get to know you more. " it sounded more like a question than an actual statement. when he placed the crumpled paper with his number in your palm, he smiled when you didnt reject it.

" will do. " you whispered, waving him goodbye.

walking into harrys office, you notice him drinking down a shot of alcohol. it was barely five and hes already drinking.

when harry felt a presence behind him, he turned.

" oh, its you " he didnt mean to come off as rude but the images of you and peter interacting outside his office infuriated him. he was always watching you.

" uhm, yea its me? anyways, i was about to inform you that you have nothing else planned for the day. " you looked up from your tablet, making sure you got it right. harry caught on to your first sentence, he heard how hurt you were but it was probably just his imagination.

nodding in acknowledgment he walked towards you. when he was close enough, he cant help but smell the cherry scent you had on. grabbing the tablet off your hand and placing it on the nearby desk, he let his hand fondle with your arms, rubbing it slowly. harrys love eyes for you had turned to something more than that and was jealousy-drunk despite drinking. harry needed a few shots to make the alcohol take effect, so he was moderately sober.

he let his mind wild free and began holding you close to him and began swaying from side to side to the nonexistent music. being confused, you pulled away, your action angering harry.

" sir, i don't think itd be- "

" shh. all i need is you, so please " harry had barely rasped out. he didnt care about anything as his only focus was on you.

" you can tell me to stop if you dont want it, okay? " harry began to hold you, resting his right arm on your head, playing with your hair, with his other hand on your waist, thumb gently rubbing circles.

and there you were, letting your guard down. you didn't realize how much you liked harry, to blinded in the duties of work. when he felt you lean into his touch, he couldnt help but smile, planting kisses on the crown of your head.

harrys lips then moved towards your cheek, planting a peck. you didnt know what you wanted at the moment, too unsure about the consequences if you let this continue, but you were also dazed to care as the man you wanted dearly was finally giving you what you wanted.

harry then held your face with his hands. your expression was unreadable. you could tell that harry was very hesitant to kiss you. i mean, harry did say that you could ask him to stop if you didn't want any of it, but he was still unsure. helping harry understand you better, your arms snacked around his neck making his arms move to your waist, smashing your lips onto his. the moment felt so unreal, it wasnt like his imagination, it was better. as much as he wanted to fight for dominance, he moaned into your mouth when you bit his bottom lip. allowing entrance quickly he leaned you against the desk, trying to stabilize you better. he let you take control quickly and it was so out of his character because one would think that he is very dominant, but with a single touch he was soon crumbling under your touch. he tried to deepen the kiss, as if you are the last thing on earth that can make him survive. as if you are the oxygen he needs. when he heard you moan when he placed his knee in between your legs, he swore he felt his whole body heat up.

pulling away to catch your breath, harry leaned towards your neck, hands gripping your hair to grant him more excess to your neck. it was as if he was a vampire and dearly needed blood. the way he sucked your neck, leaving tender kisses and bruises on it, marking you immediately. you have slept with a few people, but they didn't feel like this. you felt like you were in heaven with the way harry touched you. you have neglected your feelings way too well to not realize the way your heart yearned for harry. pushing harry of off you confused him. why did you want to stop now? noticing an office chair near you, you pushed harry down. climbing onto his lap, you began attacking his neck.

" f-fuck (y/n) " placing his hand onto your waist to try and pull your body closer to his. he cant help remind himself of his own whereabouts, his office. part of him is slightly eager to find out what were to happen if you both gets found out, but part of him wants this moment to be uninterrupted. but he couldnt contain himself when you knew how to push him over the edge. he felt you grind against his growing erection, you played with him like you knew how to please him. climbing off his lap and kneeling down in front of him, harry tried to keep eye contact. your expression questioning him for consent and without a doubt he whimpered a 'please'

without wasting time, you unzip his pants which showed you off a better outline of his dick. pulling his pants down enough, you take his erection in your hand.

" oh god, fuck " it felt even better than he imagined. his body shivered when your thumb glide over his tip, thats already sticky with precum.

" please (y/n), fucking please " harry begged to be destroyed.

" just one gentle touch and youre already a whimpering mess.. " you whispered to no one at all, but harry heard it and replied with another strangled moan. " i wonder howd you react if i put you in my mouth " you continued, he loved the way you teased him. pumping him slowly, you began placing soft kisses onto his tip.

" fuck, better than i have imagined " he saw how dark you gaze became.

" imagined? why imagine when you have the real thing in front of you? " harry felt his body go limp and the immense amount of pleasure was throwing him off the boat. with every hard and fast pump, he felt a familiar knot in his stomach that he felt earlier in the day. that was when you finally put his whole into your mouth. you couldnt lie to yourself, you were enjoying it. the guys that ever slept with you only wanted to dominate you and not vice versa. although you did enjoy it, this experience was new to you. hollowing your cheeks out and began sucking harshly, harry tried to contain himself and stop himself from cumming, which from his end was tough considering the way you toyed around with him. due to his loud moans, you stopped. pulling away, you saw needy harry was. harry felt lonely and empty without any contact with you.

" shh, if you want me to continue, you have to be a good boy and shut it "

" please i want you " untying his tie that he had on, you rolled it small enough to put into harry mouth.

going back to your previous actions, you began sucking hard and pumping what your mouth couldn't take. that was when you felt harry grip onto your hair. you enjoyed it, the hair pulling. it did turn you on, making you moan against his dick. harry, feeling the vibrations of your moan on his dick, moaned loudly into his tie. feeling his dick twitch multiple times, you released.

" cum for me sir. " was what did it for him. webs of cum began painting your mouth, and you didnt waste anytime tasting it. the sight of you on your knees, with his cum all over you made harry feel different. it was all real, he reminded himself. he finally had you, after seeing you go out on dates with multiple guys.