#harry osborn x you

[luneariaa]

✧ faciens certus.

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : { ps5 } harry osborn x reader.

✰ 𝐰. 𝐜. : 1k+

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : harry stays over your place for the night, and tries his best to convince you that he's alright.

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : just pure fluff bc he deserves the world <33

. dividers by @/saradika-graphics !! 🏹

"Just your luck."

You simply said at the auburn-haired male, who just arrived at your place. He settled himself comfortably by the couch of your home, as it started to rain quite heavily outside, hitting every part of the window that's present.

"Gotta admit that I missed the rain. It's been heating up so badly lately." You handed him the glass of hot chocolate with a small smile.

Harry thanked you while grabbing the drink that you gave him, keeping his eyes on you even after he does so.

"Yeah, it feels nice, doesn't it? I mean, the rain makes it colder than usual, but still nice in its' own way."

You nodded a bit as you returned his occasional brief gazes, before shifting your eyes at the TV, which has lost its' signal due to the harsh weather outside, which prompted you to switch it off for now.

Harry gradually puts the glass of his now finished drink down on the table nearby, before letting his eyes stayed upon your standing figure. "Mind if I stay over for the night?"

"You're always welcome to stay here, Har."

An appreciative smile is plastered across his handsome face, deciding to walk toward your direction after bringing a chair along with him, placing it just next to yours. All while his gaze never once averted elsewhere.

"Mhm, you kept staring at me for the past few minutes."

"Got something in your mind?"

The auburn-haired male elicited a chuckle, now managing to fully catch your attention.

"Honestly?"

"I was just thinking, like, you know-- those old times where we used to spend our time with each other here, watching movies till the early hours of dawn.."

By this point, his eyes are shifted elsewhere as he continued further. "My illness, my dad sort of.. kept me away from meeting you before. Surely, there are valid reasons, but still.."

"It's just nice being able to see you again like this with no one else around."

"Ah, I get that." You leaned your back against the chair you're sitting on comfortably. "I missed you for that too."

"But.."

"Nothing's gonna happen to you after this, right..?" You don't know what has driven you to ask such a question since he is, well, already there looking all healthy and fine. You couldn't help yourself-- the deep fear of potentially losing him in any time scares you so much.

His smile gradually falters upon hearing your words; simply because he wasn't expecting that type of response from you-- not in a bad way though.

"You don't have to worry about me. Nothing's going to happen anytime soon. I've taken care of everything."

Harry tried his best to reassure you, yet deep down, he hated himself for a bit due to how much he worried you.

Maintaining his cheery demeanor, he forces himself to bury the feelings of guilt deep within him, knowing quite well that you have every right to feel this concerned over his wellbeing.

He doesn't want to be a liar, but he had to, for your sake. He cared about you too much to see you in this state.

Harry just.. wanted to be normal again, and he missed how things were between you two.

"Nothing's gonna stop that now, right?"

You eventually nodded it off, processing his words within your mind. "Yeah, you got a point."

"I'm sorry, I just.."

Any other thoughts are being shut out for now, his focus-- full of pure tenderness, is now completely on you.

"Hey, you don't have to apologize."

"Just please.. Don't worry about it anymore, okay? It makes me all sad seeing you this way about me. I appreciate you for that, always."

You eventually nodded, albeit wordlessly; not knowing what to say as a reply. Sensing the sudden slight of change, Harry finally decided to stand in front of you-- placing a finger gently beneath your chin.

"I'm fine, see?" He then grabs ahold of one of your hands while squeezing it lightly, which made you stand with him as well. The shared gazes lasted longer than necessary, but none of you cared much.

Just by the way your eyes looked up into his own; it's enough to make his heart race and melt at the same time. Dare he say-- you're so precious to him. He would shamelessly show it through his actions, even after all these years.

Even words couldn't be described with the way you gazed at him like that-- it's too much, yet never enough.

Slowly, and delicately, he guides your hand towards where his heart is; allowing you to feel the beat of his heart, and how he's very much alive to you.

He wouldn't lie, but he smiles so fondly, noticing on how his heart picks up just by the mere touch of your palm against his chest.

"Feel it as much you want."

"Isn't this nice?"

The warmth radiates from your hand alone, but you thought the opposite-- thinking that his heart and body are the ones who provide the most warmth. You needed this.

He's standing in front of you and alive. That's what matters.

A warm chuckle escaped from your lips, trying your best to stay composed since you started to feel a little giddy and silly.

"You're right.. This feels comforting."

All while letting his soft grip upon your hand stays, he now moves your hand from his chest, and onto his forehead. "You can-- I mean, check for my temperature as well, just to try convince yourself further, yeah?"

In truth, he just wanted to feel your touch for much longer, especially right at this moment. The rain outside was almost being forgotten.

Harry smiled over his own words; partly joking about it, but at the same time, he wasn't. You returned his actions with such ease, simply letting your hand stay upon his forehead for a bit longer.

You were being cautious as ever, as if not wanting to accidentally hurt him or anything in that way.

"You don't have to be so careful, you know," he remarks, finding your actions quite amusing to behold, to which you simply laughed it off.

"But I wanted to."

You did something that could be considered as bold afterwards; where you actually gave his cheek a small, yet sweet kiss. It's quite new, as you never had the courage to do something as such despite being friends for years.

"That should take all the remaining sickness away, hopefully."

As much as a sap you're being right now, you couldn't help yourself, especially when he keeps his gaze at you like that. He's just so.. You can't even resist him; feeling the urge to squish him if he was a plushie or anything akin to it.

It's just a kiss on the cheek, but why would he freeze and appear to be surprised by the sudden gesture? You're scared if you might have gotten too far with your actions--

But then, his expression is failing him once the reddish hue starts to form upon his cheeks, sharing a sweet and heartwarming laugh along with you.

Harry knows how much you cared for him; on how gentle you are with him. Even if the whole ordeal turns out to be a platonic one, he wouldn't mind the slightest, as long as you are within it.

@luneariaa. do not repost; reblogs are alright. all rights reserved.

[melissa-kenobi]

Nerds

[PS5 Peter Parker x Reader/PS5 Harry Osborn x Reader]

A/N: just a lil blurb, super cute 🥺. FYI, Peter, Harry and Reader are in a relationship. MJ is best friends with them all. Also I'm not a science nerd, idk shit about science so this may be scientifically incorrect lol

Summary: You try to figure out the missing element.

***

"So if I multiply the radius by- " The sound of your voice echoes through the labs at the Foundation, as you experiment with the different formulas.

"Why is it still yellow?" You mutter slightly annoyed and to no-one in particular, throwing away your attempt.

"No, maybe I should try etat- no, or maybe tri- " There was a pattern to it but you couldn't see it at all, maybe you had missed something. You continued talking to yourself, jotting away your idea. Then you went back to the computer and typed away at it before putting in another trial run.

You were so into your little experiment, you hadn't realised Peter had walked in, eyes curious as he placed a hand on your lower back, "Hey, why don't you try the- "

"Ah- you scared me, Pete! But yes, that's a good idea. Maybe it'll balance the acidity of it out." You jump at his touch but suddenly jump back into scientist mode as he gives you a brilliant suggestion. "You're a genius, Pete!"

"Wait!" Peter says, but it's too late. The compounds reject and cause a small reaction. A small cloud of black fluff poofed into your face, making you blink as stared at Pete, who was trying not to laugh at you.

"Okay, maybe not." You freeze before jotting down some notes on your failed attempt. There was a little bit of smoke on your face, which Peter came over and rubbed off before kissing your cheek. "You're too cute."

"No time for cuteness, Mr Parker, onto Trial No.2." You wink at him.

***

Harry had been watching your little nerdy moment with heart eyes, and mushy feeling in his chest, and when Peter had turned up, he wasn't sure he could be even more in love with the both of you than he already was. Harry felt his heart burst with adoration, and he couldn't help but let out a little chuckle when Peter accidentally bumped into you but apologised with a little kiss on your lips.

"Hey, what you doing up here all alone?" MJ walked up as she hip bumped Harry. He let out a little laugh and gave her a hug before turning her around to see the two of you.

"Ah. Creeping on your girlfriend and boyfriend I see..." MJ teases him.

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, "Don't they look so cute, being all nerdy and shit? I mean, look at y/n. She was so focused that she didn't even notice Peter come in.."

MJ guffaws loudly, cutting Harry off, "You are so whipped for them!"

Harry shoves her lightly, then gives her the middle finger- making MJ laugh even louder, but he continues to watch you and Pete happily.

***

Harry finally walked over to the two of you, cuddling you from being as he placed a kiss on Peter's cheek, making Peter blush deep red. You glanced at Peter, ready to tease him, but Harry placed a kiss on your lips, making you blush too.

Peter looked at you with a grin, before a look of realisation passed over him as he looked at your face, making it click for you too.

Red. It was a deep red.

"Rubidium!" The two of you chimed in response, all of it clicking together. You both pull away from Harry as he looks at you two dumbfounded.

"Of course!" You say as you looked at Peter, who made a 'doh' face and gestured that you two were idiots for not realising it sooner. You ran quickly to grab some and added it to the container. The rubidium instantly neutralised the colour of it, making both you and Peter 'woah' in sync. "It actually worked!"

"Harry Osborn, you are a genius!" Peter grinned.

"We needed our third element, didn't we Pete?" You giggled as Harry pulled the two of you into a hug, the three of you all cuddling.

"I love you, my two nerds..." Harry laughs, his smile warm and content.

***

[the-only-gisu2]

I just really need a Harry Osborn x fem reader x Peter Parker where the reader comes to the Emily-May foundation after her boyfriend hit her and kicked her out I need it to be a smut of them getting their revenge she’s getting a pounded from the back by Harry and and deep throated by Peter 🌝 but when her now ex is blowing up her phone Harry sends him lil video I want insomniac spider-man 2 btw Harry is just so fine😍

I BEG OF YALL PLEASEEEEE😍🫶🏾

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Day 30: Christmas shenanigans under the tree, if you know what I mean.

Fandom:Spider Man 2 || Insomniac ||

Character: Harry Osborn

Naughty or Nice

Warnings: p in v, christmas fun! Teasing, public sex.

You and Harry were alone, something you were actually grateful for. It was nice to actually get a chance to spend time with your boyfriend especially with it being so close to Christmas.Glancing at the large Christmas Tree in the center of the room a small smile formed on your lips as you turned your attention to Harry.

"Hey Harry?"

Glancing away from his work, Harry gave you a grin tipping his head to the side. "Ya love?"

"I have an idea, how about we Christmas shenanigans under the tree, if you know what I mean."

Harry's eyes narrow with a mix of curiosity and desire as he listens to your suggestion. A mischievous smile tugs at the corners of his lips, his mind already racing with possibilities.

"Ah, never pegged you to be an exhibitionist" he wetted his lips, his voice husky with anticipation. "You always know how to pique my interest. Christmas shenanigans under the tree, you say? I like it."

Puffing out his chest, he quickly closed his work away humming as he quickly rushed to your side making quick work to carry you too the Christmas Tree.

"We have 30 minutes until the camera's come back on " he stated hovering over you "Let us make this Christmas unforgettable."

Harry guides, you to lay under the lavishly decorated Christmas tree the twinkling lights casting a seductive glow over the room. He positions her in front of the tree, you back on the plush carpet, and admires the way your skin contrasts with the vibrant ornaments.

With a flick of his wrist, Harry removes his own clothing, revealing his toned form. He steps closer to you, his desire evident in his darkened eyes. His hand reaches out to caress you cheek, his touch both gentle and possessive.

"Remember, my dear," he whispers, his voice low and seductive. "You belong to me, and tonight, I will claim you under the watchful gaze of this tree. Every moan, every gasp, it will be our secret gift to each other."

And with that, Harry takes you in his arms, his lips crashing against yours in a passionate kiss. The heat and desire between you both ignites, as you lose yourselves in the pleasure of their private Christmas shenanigans, under the twinkling lights of the tree.

A gasp escaped your lips as your legs wrapped around his hips trying to match his thrusts as his name spilled from your lips. "Faster Harry! Please."

Harry groans in response to your actions, his desire escalating at the sound of his name on your lips. He willingly allows you to take control, relishing in the way your legs wrap tightly around him, urging him to go deeper.

His hands grip your hips firmly, guiding your movements as he thrusts into you with a newfound intensity. Each thrust is filled with a mixture of possessiveness and adoration, his body moving in perfect rhythm with your moans. The pleasure builds within you both, your moans and his grunts filling the room as you all indulge in your shared desire.

Harry's eyes remain fixated on you, drinking in the sight of your surrendering to your passion. The way your body quivers and trembles beneath him only drives him further, pushing him closer to the edge. He whispers in a husky voice, his words dripping with a mixture of dominance and affection.

"That's it" he breathes, his voice laced with desire. "Wrap those legs around me tighter, show me how much you crave me. You're mine, and I will take you to the heights of pleasure."

With each thrust, he delves deeper into you, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. The room fills with the symphony of your pleasure, the sound echoing off the walls as your connection intensifies. Harry's mind becomes consumed with the overwhelming need to bring you to the pinnacle of ecstasy, to claim you as his own in every way possible.

As your bodies entwine beneath the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree, Harry loses himself in the intoxicating pleasure, reveling in the sensation of their passion intertwining. Their Christmas shenanigans reach a crescendo, a culmination of desire and adoration, as you both succumb to the waves of pleasure that wash over them.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Gifts From The Heart - Harry Osborn X Female Reader

Title: Gifts From The Heart

Harry Osborn X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Reader's boss (Mentioned)

(Could be seen as the Spider-Man Franco Harry Osborn too, if wanted.)

WC: 1,283

Warnings: Cursing, italics, Harry spoils Reader, nicknames, very mini angst, banter, flirting, teasing, and fluff

Harry Osborn, CEO of Oscorp, was a rich, privileged, and intelligent young man. And dating Harry Osborn was amazing as it was overwhelming at times. 

You had met him at work, being one of the many secretaries at Oscorp, you ran into him randomly one day when you were sent out by your boss to get him some coffee. Though, he was entirely different from what your coworkers had said he was. They said that he was an asshole, a playboy who didn’t care about anyone but himself. And to an extent, they were right.

But you were greatly surprised when he asked if you wanted to go out for coffee with him, since he was going out to get some anyway, and it shocked you. You tried telling him that you didn’t want to get in trouble with your boss, that you needed to get his coffee and bring it back to him pronto. Harry just continued to grin, saying that you wouldn’t get in trouble, since he was the boss of your boss. He was so… Charming, and with that grin of his… And, well, Harry counted that coffee outing as your first date.

After a couple of months of being friendly with one another, you had begun noticing little gifts left on your desk. Pretty flowers, snacks, coffee, books, and even cute office supplies. It took you a week for you to realize that Harry had been the one dropping off those little gifts while you were at lunch or running about the Oscorp building for your boss.

Within the next two weeks, Harry took you out on another date. This time to a fancy restaurant where he gifted you - your first of many - very expensive jewelry. 

After you began dating, Harry surprised you with being so sweet and so attentive. He always listened to everything you had to say, remembering your likes and dislikes. He surprised you everyday, in every way. He was so obvious that he loved you. By the way he talked to you, looked at you, held you…

And on top of that, Harry would practically spoil you at every chance he could find. Clothes, shoes, bags, jewelry, cars, trips, anything you wanted really; even when you didn’t really need them.

Now, don’t get you wrong, you loved when Harry got you little presents. Who wouldn’t? They were always fun and exciting, you never knew when you’d find one around the penthouse or around his office. But, you felt terrible about it sometimes. He was spending so much money on you…

“Harry,” You sighed, closing the rectangular, red velvet box, looking up at him as you sat on the edge of your shared king-sized bed. “You know I love you, forever so, but I don’t need another pair of matching pearl bracelets.” You bit your bottom lip, with a small smile.

Harry only shook his head, waving a hand dismissively as he sat in front of you on the floor, kneeling as if he was going to propose. You felt that tingle of anxiety; this wouldn’t be the first time he tried to propose. You just weren’t ready… But when you were, you’d say ‘yes.’ “They match the necklace from yesterday.” He explained, and you nodded.

“I know, baby. But I don’t need all these expensive gifts. I feel terrible that you’re spending all this money on me.” You sat the box to the side next to you. “I know that gift-giving is one of your love languages.” Your voice softened as you reached out to gently cup his face, thumb grazing over his cheek. “But, Harry, what I really want is just you. Your time, your presence… The little moments that we share. Those mean more to me than anything money could buy.” You watched as Harry’s expression softened as well, you could tell he was listening. “I love how thoughtful you are, and I don’t want you to stop. I just want you to know that I already feel like the luckiest person in the world just having you by my side.” You leaned in closer, brushing his brown hair away from his forehead with your free hand before pressing a soft kiss to it. “That’s more than enough for me.”

Harry pursed his lips, his hands reaching up to take your from his cheek, “But you deserve precious jewels and gems. All of them. Everything. I’d buy you the world if you asked me to.”

You sighed gently, tilting your head to the side as your heart began to melt. “You’re too sweet. But, honey, it’s not about how expensive something is. It’s about the thought and the meaning behind the gifts.” You spoke, bringing your free hand to brush his dark hair from his eyes once more; his hair was addicting, you’d touch it forever if you could, “And this is not me saying that I don’t appreciate everything you’ve given me. I do.” You bit your lip, “To be honest, I loved all the gifts you gave me before we were dating too.”

Harry stared up at you before slowly nodding, an unreadable look upon his face. “Alright, my darling.” He looked off to the side thoughtfully, but you felt an odd tension in the air, something was off.

~~~

It wasn’t until three weeks later that you found a small velvet box on your nightstand after you finished getting ready in the bathroom for a gala. Slowly, you grabbed the box and opened it, gasping lightly at the sight of the dainty pendant. It wasn’t like Harry’s past gifts, this wasn’t as extravagant or expensive-looking. It was just a simple pendant, heart-shaped, in a soft gold.

The bedroom door opened, and you turned to see Harry enter; he was dressed handsomely in his ebony suit. Adjusting his tie, he gave you a grin, noticing your shocked - and overjoyed - expression. “I was heading to get your coffee yesterday, passed by this small antique shop. Saw it in the window and I thought of you.” He spoke, stopping in front of you and taking the necklace out from the box.

Automatically, you turned, your shocked expression changing into one of absolute admiration; if it was possible, you’d be mush on the floor right about now. Harry unclasped the chain, carefully looping it around your neck, the heart-shaped pendant resting on the center of your chest as he clasped it secure; his fingers briskly brushing against your warm skin. 

“Harry..,” You sighed breathily, taking the pendant in your hands, “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

You turned around as Harry reached out to brush your hair behind your ear, “You’re beautiful.” He muttered, his fingers grazing across your cheek before bringing both of his hands to your waist.

“You’re beautiful too,” You let out a small chuckle, biting your lip, “That���s my favorite suit on you.” You raised your hands, smoothing out the lapels.

“I know,” Harry replied knowingly, a smirk on his face. “And you know… We don’t have to go to this gala.” Harry mused, pulling you closer, into his chest. 

“Oh, really?” You asked, still worrying on your bottom lip, “Why the change of mind?”

“Well..,” Harry trailed off, raising a hand to allow his thumb to brush over your lips, freeing your bottom lip from your teeth. “I saw that there’s a new movie on Netflix that I thought you might enjoy. And we could order some take-out, eat that leftover ice cream in the freezer, and oh, I don’t know…” He trailed off, making you huff in amusement.

“All dressed up like this?” You asked, and he nodded. You shook your head, amused, “I just can’t with you sometimes, Harry Osborn.”

~~~

Main Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist

[gloomskulls]

PRIMADONNA [tasm!harry osborn x sugarbaby!reader]

pairings: tasm!harry osborn x bratty sugar baby!reader

warning(s): yandere themes, obsessive behavior, dark!harry osborn, daddy issues, slight violence, toxic relationship, the reader does not gaf about Harry lol, sugar baby/sugar daddy dynamics, death, lemme know if I missed any!

If you don't wanna see my dark stories in the future please block the tag #madi: dark content

summary: to fall in love with Harry Osborn was destined to be thrilling, complemented by his riches and charm. But just as the world fell apart for him, this passion pushed deeper. But now locked up at Ravencroft, lost in madness, the living ghost of the man you thought you'd known.

I had a random surge of writing, now I have spent the last six hours making this and idk if it even good lol. Don't steal any of the shit I make, coz that would make you a shitty person and there's too many shitty people here so don be like them.

A normal, serene night in France saw all this happen: the kind of night when the air felt heavy with an energy only those who have learned to feed upon would notice. The VIP lounge stood, but not so crowded. You wore a red dress hugging all curves, a glass of champagne, and a smile that said everything and nothing all at once.

You always were the queen of the scene, the one who never needed anyone but yourself. You loved the attention, the whispers behind your back, the envy in the eyes of the women who wished they could be you.

Your life was something you didn't dream about, but after realizing how easy it was to earn money in the simplest way possible, without all the hard work and dedication bullshit your elders used to talk about, you immediately caved in to the lifestyle of being a primadonna (or some might say a sugar baby).

Your parents were everything but keen about your choice of occupation, I thought you were going to have a modest job, this isn't a job, it's prostitution! Your parents argued, but you didn't give a single flying fuck, reasoning to them that it was an actual job keeping these men satisfied and that it was the easiest way out of that shithole you call your hometown.

Though you have dreamed about being a doctor once, but would a doctor be able to afford a giant penthouse in just a month of doing their job? Your life was much more glamorous than not any job could provide for it. And you loved your simple but lavish lifestyle, even if it was rather scandalous.

Still, your gaze drifted across the room until you locked eyes with him: Harry Osborn.

Initially, you noticed the look in his eyes, not an excited gaze, but a kind of detachment, an emptiness in his creepy blue eyes that you recognized all too well. The style of the impeccably tailored suit did not match the black mood he had carried with him. His pale face, his strands of dark hair on his face, wore a permanent frown. You knew what he was.

A rich broken kid.

You took a seat on the chair opposite him, with a slight curved smirk on your lips. "Mind if I join?"

He gazed at you for a second, a flicker of surprise narrowing his features and softened after that into an almost shy smile. "Not at all."

And thus began the dance. He shared with you his father, a man with a big legacy, Norman Osborn and the heavy burden it carries. Most certainly heir to a vast empire, he is weighed down by the fate of having to live up to the extreme expectations. You don't pity him, though, nor anyone. Rather, you slip him that sort of detached humor that kept you afloat in a world full of disingenuousness.

"I'm sure your therapist would love to hear his," you said, swirling your drink, "but tell me, Harry, is it worth it having the Osborn fortune if it gives you personal vendetta as a side dish?"

His laughter came with a touch of bitterness. "You don't know the half of it."

“No, but I know a thing or two about men like you." You said as you took a long sip of your margarita "Spoiled, sad little princes who want the world, only end up stuck in their own castle.” You added, you leaned in, meeting his eyes with your own. “Tell me—what do you really want?”

He wasn't exactly the type to answer the question, but he did it. There was a moment of unexpected vulnerability, and Harry opened up about the pressure his father put on him to take control of Oscorp, the shadow of an illness that haunted every Osborn, and the utter confusion with which he approached what he really wanted. “I want out,” he whispered. “But I don’t know how."

“Find your own way out, Harry," you whispered in his ear, lifting your glass. "Stop living in your father's shadow. You live behind someone's shadow for too long, they go away, and suddenly you forget how bright the world is, and it will blind the living shit out of you"

There came a time, a few months hence, when you were no longer a mere fleeting distraction. Harry had become captive to you and not just by your beauty but also the fact that you did not fawn upon him as the others did. The incessant materialism of Oscorp—the parties and the great expectations—mattered not to you, nor did they matter to Harry. What mattered to you was you.

Soon enough, he was caught up in a blur of late-night dinners, designer frocks, and luxury getaways, and he learned to play your role as always cool, always sarcastic, and always available whenever he needed someone to fill in. His mansion became your playground. His penthouse, your fortress. But you had begun to realize how the cracks in his facade grew wider with every day. There was a tension that clung around his shoulders.

You see, Harry was fighting demons. Not the kind children find under their beds, but those of not just a father's shadow and inheritance, but a fatal disease that ran in the blood of his family. Genetic, a disease that slowly eroded the body's defenses against sickness in a nutshell. It was how his mother died. And though his father, while certainly more heartless than most, had lived just long enough for Harry to inherit the empire, it was clear Harry was on borrowed time. And you knew deep down the little time he had left to share in his life, he did not want to spend alone. In fact, he was searching for someone he might hold with, instead of mere love.

Harry had been told late last night that Norman Osborn was rapidly deteriorating, and that he should come home already. Of course, it was a better idea to simply agree with him, not because of his father, but because he looked actually frightened.

The flight to New York was so quiet, between two strangers not knowing what to say, it was the kind of silence that weighed almost like an invisible line hung between them.

As the jet came down, New York's skyline shone distantly, bright and impersonal. This city had molded Harry in ways with which he seldom cared to associate himself and now it seemed to gnaw his back.

"You okay," you asked gently, breaking the silence.

He was seated opposite you, hands clasped tightly together. He barely glanced up. "Fine," he muttered, but his voice betraying him.

You didn't push it. Harry was not the sort of man to let anyone else see him fall to pieces, not even you.

The Osborn estate—it was a mausoleum fashioned out of glass and steel, so cold and so unwelcoming. One would step inside and feel an air shift—heavy with history, expectation, and the unmistakable shadow of death. Everywhere a sterile hallway expanded toward a distant death, every hushed whisper of the staff bore witness to the obvious decline taking place in Norman Osborn.

"It's dark in there, your eyes would adjust" one of the staff informed as he led you to the door where Norman rested, "It's better this way" He added as he opened the door for Harry

Harry gave his coat to the staff as he held you, you both entered the dark room. It was filled with high-tech bullshit that you were certain you could only see in movies, guess anyone's willing to go to an extent to keep themselves alive.

Harry's dad was surrounded by machines, beeping rhythmically.

Harry's dad lay bedridden, reduced to nothing but a former shell of himself, what was left was the presence to this pale, gaunt remnant of him. You now have to stand aside while Harry makes his way toward his father, for even such distance cannot keep one from feeling the strain between them.

"This is not how I imagined I would die" Norman bitterly muttered as he looked at Harry up and down, "Looking at my son and seeing this stranger" He added

"Of such potential Harry, such fierce intelligence, and you throwing it all away for this girl" Norman than stared at you, with an unintelligible gaze.

You nervously shuffled in your position as you felt rather exposed to his cold and calculating gaze, it was as if he was stripping you with every clothing you had.

"Out of everyone, you chose a narcissistic gold digger" Norman chuckled. Harry jaw clenched.

"Don't call her that" snarled Harry. But Norman just chuckled as he spoke.

"You think I don't see shit? You think I don't see the news of you wasting your fortune to her when you should be training to take over me, because God knows when he'll take me out of here"

Harry seemed rather tense at the talk of inheritance. He called out your name, "Go back to the car" he instructed.

You didn't spare a single second before getting out the dark room. The moment you stepped out, if felt as if you saw a train running towards you, Norman's room was really that dark.

By the time you two came back to the condo with Harry, it was almost becoming morning. That lingering weight from the past twenty-four hours felt like a storm cloud over the two of you. Harry, who had hardly spoken since the two left the estate, seemed to be facing a complete collapse now.

The moment the door clicked shut behind you, he inhaled sharply and flung his jacket on the couch. He moved erratically, his high-strung behavior slowly coming undone with every step.

"I inherited it," he said suddenly, his voice hollow.

You froze at the moment, not sure if you heard him rightly. "Inherited what?"

"The disease and the fuckin' goddamn company" he snapped, turning around to face you. His blue irises were frantic, ringed red from sleep deprivation and a barely controlled fury. "Retroviral hyperplasia. It's genetic. My dad knew I was gonna get that, and he did not tell me till now. Like it's some fucking family tradition!" He shouted

You flinched, but you just remained there; sarcasm clogged at the back of your throat. Harry did not want your quips or indifference. He needed something, however, even you weren't sure what that something was.

“I don’t know what to say,” you finally admitted, your voice lower than usual.

“There's nothing to say,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair. “My father's dead. I have a ticking time bomb inside my DNA. And because of all that, I am supposed to take on Oscor like I'm the goddamn savior of the family name.”

He fell over onto the couch, his head in his hands. “I didn't want this,” he said quietly, his voice breaking. "I never wanted any of it."

You hesitated walking away, halfway between staying and going. These kinds of moments were not made for people like you-moments when comfort was called for. But there was something in the raw vulnerability of Harry's voice that stopped you.

"You don't have to work everything out right now," you said finally as you settled beside him. "It's okay to think that this is unfair. It is unfair. But you're even allowed to… I don't know… take a breath before you burn yourself completely out."

Harry looked at you then and searched your eyes. Maybe for hope. Maybe for reassurance.

"Why're you even here?" his tone was sharp, yet not unkind.

You tilted your head, your lips curving into a faint, tired smirk. "Because you'd be truly unbearable if I wasn't."

For an instant, the tension broke, and he emitted a dry, humorless kind of laugh. Not much really, but it was something.

You did not know what would come next. The disease. The inheritance. It was all too much for any human being to actually handle, including Harry. But for now, you both sat there together, silent and heavy with it all.

Harry knew that every passing day brought him closer to it. He was on the verge of spontaneously combusting, and that changed everything for him. His father's staff didn't respect him, he would always tell you.

"I'm not like him," Harry would consistently say in a hollow, dry voice, "I won't be a monster, but the world doesn't let you be anything else."

The more Harry delved deep into his father's empire, the more you saw its darkness spreading within him. Torment began twisting into anger, obsession, and paranoia from vulnerability. Then came that his suffocating need for validation, his need for control.

Your sarcasm was not enough to hide your discomfort anymore. All the questioning, demanding, and simplicity came all that weighed you down. He had changed; not for the better.

Harry became obsessed with Oscorp and the disease reached its peak, to the point when he asked his best friend Peter to get a blood sample from Spiderman, to which it backfired by the way he was stomping inside your shared condo.

He became more manic, desperate. When things started not to go his way, he would lock himself in his office for days, brooding over the future of the company, and then he would lash out at people. You would try to keep your distance, but he wouldn't allow it since he needed you as his tether, anchor to the world that was sliding out of his fingers.

Amidst these many nights just as quiet, suffocating, and heavy with tension, so had all fallen into shadow. You would be found in the corner of Harry's penthouse. Scrolling on your phone, pretending not to see, while Harry was pacing in an erratic fashion, filling the room with energy that could have probably made it unbearable. He'd been on this particular circuit for weeks: gearing up with one battle after another with all those sharks in the boardroom who hungered for some blood due to Oscorp's spiraling controversies and his desperate attempts to outmaneuver them.

That wasn't just for the company though. It was really for the disease.

Earlier that day, Harry had come back from a consultation held by Oscorp's private medical team, and though he hadn't even uttered a word to you about it, the reading was all written on his face. He was running out of time. And he was scared.

"Do you even care?" he snapped suddenly; his voice sharp enough to cut through the tension like a knife.

Calm as always, you looked up and met his eyes with just the detached indifference that you knew would annoy him even more. "Care about what, Harry?"

"About me," he spat, his fists curling at his sides. "About what I'm going through. Or am I just some… some project for you? Something to laugh at when I'm not looking?"

The accusation hit harder than you expected, but you were not about to show it. Instead, you leaned back in your chair and crossed your legs, tipping your head like you were bored by the whole affair.

“Harry,” you said, dripping with sarcasm, “you’re spiraling, and I’m the one who’s supposed to care? Maybe take a look around. You’ve got a billion-dollar company, a penthouse, a name everyone respects or fears— and you've got all that to worry, but you worry about whether I give a damn? Honestly, it’s a little pathetic.”

You did not picture him laughing, but he did. A cold, hollow sound that sent chills running down your spine.

"Are you assuming that this is all regarding money?" he stepped towards you, eyes burning with an amalgam of fury and something darker, something unhinged. "Do you think I care about anything when I'm at death's door?"

For the first time, what he said came out raw and real, stripped of whatever charm or bravado he usually wore around like armor. It was just Harry—the boy who had lost his mother, who had spent his entire life trying to live up to a father who never gave him anything but pressure and pain, and who was now staring down the barrel at a disease that would take everything from him piece by piece.

But empathy was exactly what you weren't in the mood for these days.

"I get it," you said, standing up and meeting him eye to eye. "Harry, you've got a raw deal. But guess what? Everybody's dealing with their own shit. You're not special just because your dad was an egomaniac, and you've got bad genes. Just because your life is falling apart doesn't mean you've got the right to use me as an emotional punching bag."

The words were harsh, and you were aware of it. But you were tired just tired of the moods, the demands, and the inability to see you as anything other than a reflection of his misery.

His face contorted with rage as he clenched his jaw while looking fixedly at you. “You really don’t understand,” he said in an almost dangerously low voice, “You think this is all for me? I have fought for my life since the day I was born. I’m not going to allow anyone—anyone—leave me now. Not you. Not the board. No one.”

“Then fight your own battle,” you retorted, voice now oscillating. “I’m not here to save you, Harry. I never was.”

For a moment, the silence in the room fell like a tomb. The lights from the city outside cast long shadows across his face, making him look almost ghostly. And then, he moved.

One stride did it: he passed the distance between you, almost wrenching your wrist off and bringing his face inches from yours while his breath was hot and shallow. “You don’t get to leave,” he said, almost choking back the words as they came out, “Not now. Not after everything.”

Harry found himself staring at you, unblinking, wild-eyed with fury. "I can do nothing without you." He whispered with tears welling up his eyes. "You're the only thing I can control." "The only thing that makes sense," he said, gripping at your arms to try and pull you nearer.

For a moment, you realized that he was not a spoiled rich kid, but was actually someone truly broken, someone who tied his whole identity into the inheritance that he would receive from the empire he was about to inherit, and the disease that would eventually take his life. He had desperation in him, and for the first time, he made you begin to question everything.

"I'm not your savior, Harry," you said, pulling away from the hug. "And I'm not going to stand nearby while you destroy yourself." You sighed as you stepped away from him, "And don't call this love, since it isn't that"

Anger was flashing in his eyes. "You think I'm weak, don't you?" he hissed. "You think I'm a monster in a suit."

You stood there, cold and drained. "Perhaps I don't think anything anymore."

Harry Osborn wasn't your prince. He was a king with no kingdom, and you weren't about to be his queen.

He looked away from you and said, "Then go." The once harrowing voice was now a soft weapon. "Get out of here. But know that you cannot outrun me. You belong to me, and what belongs to me, comes back to me"

Your heart raced in your chest, but you were not going to let him see your fear. You tilted your head slightly and smiled at him defiantly. “Watch me,” you stated, voice calm even as the energy between you crackled like electricity.

You didn’t say anything after that. You just turned around, feeling Harry's eyes glaring daggers at you. You grabbed your bag, your keys, and walked out without looking back.

The adrenaline dissipated as you drove through the rain-soaked streets of the city, as it always happens. Cold and hollow at the pit of your stomach, you knew from the start that Harry Osborn was dangerous—not in an overt way, the ways some men were, but in that sly, insidious way that made you question your own reality.

He was a man not just in pain. He was a man unraveling and you caught in the middle.

And so, you told yourself that it was over, that you would never again return. But the headlights blurred in the rain and the city stretched infinitely before you; you could not shake the feeling that Harry's words were not an empty threat.

You belong to me

It echoed in your mind both promise and threat at once. Harry Osborn wasn't just an overindulged brat with daddy issues. He was a predator.

And you are his prey.

You never meant to return. You swore never to set foot in that penthouse again. Harry's world had become something you wanted no part of, and when you left, you knew that was it—an escape from a man that could never truly be yours and never truly let you go.

But there had been a slip, a mistake. You'd left some things behind in the chaos—clothing, a piece of jewelry, some documents that you couldn't quite remember. And whenever that phone buzzed with a message from the unknown number, an uneasy pang settled in your gut. It was from Felicia Hardy, Harry's assistant.

"I think you should come by. It's about Harry."

You hesitated for a moment. You weren't curious about Harry anymore—not about him, not about Oscorp, not about the empty promises he had made. But something pulled at you—an instinct, maybe. A feeling that you had never let fully shake the grip he had on you. You hadn't been back to the condo in months, but something told you that, whatever Felicia had to say, it wasn't good.

The walk up to the penthouse felt like an eternity. You stood outside the door for a long while, before finally ringing the bell. The door opened swiftly, and Felicia Hardy greeted you with a tight, strained smile.

"You should come in," she said, stepping aside.

The calm demeanor she usually exuded had disappeared. Her frame was rigid. The apartment was at variance too—empty, almost ghost-like—filled with shadows of memories you once shared with Harry lingering in the corners.

"You've kept a low profile," you said as you step in.

"I've been busy," Felicia replied in a curt tone, "There's a lot of things you don't know. Anyway, you have to hear this."

You raised your eyebrows. "What happened? You sound like you've encountered a ghost"

Felicia hesitated, then gestured toward the living room, where she sat down, fingers gripping the arms of the chair tightly, "Harry… he's not the same. After you left, he started changing—more than usual. He got reckless. The whole thing spiraled out of control."

You didn't reply instantly. Harry had always been a very chaotic person whose life was that of extremes, and yet you never imagined he would be broken so bad. You have seen his anger and desperation, but you didn't know to imagine the depth of it.

Felicia rambled on, barely audible above a whisper: "It's his disease. He… he was...desperate" she spoke barely above a whisper "Harry broke a patient from Ravencroft and an ex-staff in Oscorp, Max Dillon"

"He went there with a plan," Felicia continued, voice trembling. "He knew about the mutant cells—Araneus Oscorpeus—those experimental spiders Oscorp had been working on, the ones that could heal—it was supposed to be a part of some new treatment for his condition."

You nodded slowly as the pieces clicked into place. The condition—the disease that had tormented Harry all through his life and shaped his body and mind into something he couldn't fight. He had never been able to outrun his father's legacy—the bloodline that gave him everything and yet all at once, nothing.

Felicia leaned closer, lowering her voice as if to say that the truth might be huge to handle. "But that's not the worst of it."

She looked at you. "He tried curing himself—he believed he could cure his self—but it didn't quite work out. The serum, the cells—it made him insane, operated Harry worse than before. Way worse."

The pieces begin to put together a very dark picture and exceedingly puzzling. In Harry's desperate attempt at saving his soul, he meddled with the ways of God—and the results led to an uncontrollable calamity. He dragged Max Dillon into this insanity and now they were both spiraling out of control. But what after that?

"And then what happened?" you asked, feeling your heart race against your chest.

"Harry's in Ravencroft Asylum."

You blinked, trying to process the words. The name of the infamous facility sent a cold shiver down your spine. Ravencroft wasn't just a place—it was a symbol of the irreversible, the broken.

"What?" you managed to croak, your voice hoarse.

Felicia stepped forward, face red. "He snapped. Completely. After everything that happened, they pretty much had to put him away: he's not the same."

Although Felicia's eyes softened for a second, she didn't spare a moment for pity. "You know Gwen Stacy, right?"

The punch to the gut hit your insides, she was the girl you went to high school with before your parents moved to France, lovely studious girl, everyone loved her as far as you remember. "What about her?"

"She's dead," Felicia said, in her predictable, icy monotone, as if she were using a knife to cut through air. "Caught up in it all. Harry—fuckin spiderman—they're all responsible."

The statements barely made sense to the mind. Gwen, dead? You remembered just talking to her months ago back: bright and smiling, too pure for all the muck Harry had created in his life.

"Harry killed her?" you whispered, unable to push more words past your throat.

Felicia did not flinch. "He didn't mean it that way. But he lost control of himself, he only wanted Spiderman but, something snapped, and he took Gwen… Harry lost it. There were others—civilians, people who got in the way—but Gwen's the one who didn't survive. It was ugly, pretty darn ugly."

Felicia made her stare stone hard. "He's at Ravencroft. They keep him mostly sedated the time. Not a person anymore, not really. His disease…it's totally taking control of him. In the doctors' words, it's irreversible. They can't help him."

Felicia took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for something she was still unsure she wanted to say. "He asked about you though. Every time I go there, it's all he talks about. You. Like you're some kind of cure for whatever's broken inside him."

You swallowed, head still swimming. Harry was consumed by the need for control, power, and validation. And now, to know that he was obsessed with you—even now—seemed a bitter pill to swallow.

"Didn't come here to tell you this to make you feel guilty," Felicia said, her voice severing through your thoughts. "I came because you ought to know what happened. Not that you can fix them. Harry's gone. And whatever was left of him is now caged in Ravencroft."

She paused for a moment, giving the full weight to her words. "But you should know this is not just on him, the Goblin disease? That's something passed on by his father. He was born into this, and nobody ever gave him a goddam chance to get free. It's too late now."

"I'm sad to say this," Felicia continued, her voice softening almost to a sympathetic tone "but that's reality. You move on."

Though you nodded slowly, you knew that there was no reason to believe in it. Moving on from someone like Harry Osborn seemed impossible, even if that someone was no longer even a shell of the person that he had once been. He was no longer someone whom you could love; nor could he be said to be someone whom you could save.

As you walked away from the penthouse, the waves of finality crashed down on you. What were you expecting? That he would be better? That he would have changed? But now, the truth was more apparent than ever before: the Harry you knew was dead. And what was left? A monster who destroyed everything he once cared about, including Gwen Stacy - and now, you.

Ravencroft Asylum was a cage indeed. And Harry Osborn lay trapped inside it - a casualty to his own legacy.

And you? You were another casualty in the wreckage.

@gloomskulls 2024. DON'T COPY, TRANSLATE OR USE ANY OF MY WORKS HERE OR ANY OTHER WEBSITES. Photos don't belong to me

[cemeteryladycass]

Harry Osborn paired with my Self Insert is actually becoming my top comfort ship because not only do they share a lot commonalities, ( parental issues, drug abuse/addiction, and just the mental health part in general ) but I think they're genuinely cute together.

Cassy is definitely more extroverted than Harry for sure. I also headcanon they are both autistic and BPD. Harry having more quiet BPD and Cassy is the one with explosive BPD... it's hard for them sometimes but it's canon in my mind that they make it through.

I got a few drawings in mind for them... cutesy ones.

[vinamari]

How it feels going to bed after reading some words

It was angst

[cemeteryladycass]

OK BUT LITERALLY Harry with Cassie OMGGGG

Imagine your f/o pushing your hair out of your face before kissing you.

proship/comship/neutral DNI

[platossoulmates]

im so bad at multishipping but i am fucking FANTASTIC at making ur favs poly

[moxielynx]

my prediction for the ending of spiderman 2 is that peter will hold harry so gently like he did in ultimate spiderman and then they'll kiss and tell each other how much they love each other and-

Edit 1: I’m finally gonna be playing Spider-Man 2 this weekend and I would just like to say I get mental damage every time someone reblogs this with something along the lines of “how does it feel to get it so accurate” /hj

Edit 2: I AM A SAD, SAD BROKEN MAN. APOLLO HAS GIFTED ME THE POWER OF PROPHECY. DAMN YOU INSOMNIAC DAMN YOU.

[luneariaa]

✧ reunion.

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : { ps5 } harry osborn x fem! reader.

✰ 𝐰. 𝐜. : 800+

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : you and harry finally reunited with the others after some time apart.

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : not much proofread + more of a test as to try writing him, harry might seem to be a lil ooc here prolly, random writing. also just pure fluff <33

✰ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : been having a brainrot over him ngl like 💙 -- also, i had to do several researches about the game lmao,, he needs more attention ngl

. dividers by @/cafekitsune !! 🏹

Slowly descending down the stairs, your eyes widened slightly at the mere sight ahead of you. Harry has finally returned after almost a year or so; his back is resting momentarily against the rear of his car, looking quite good as ever. Any other thoughts within you are gone in that moment, having your eyes straight at him.

Countless of thoughts have filled your mind, prompting you to remain still at your current spot as Peter and MJ rushes themselves to hug him, clearly have been missing his presence so much, and so did you. A small, yet tender smile is present on your features upon witnessing such a heartwarming sight.

Harry looks genuinely so happy like this, grinning from ear to ear. It's as if nothing bad has ever existed, even his illness. He's truly back.

When the three finally have finished with their little hugging session, the auburn-haired male finally has his gaze shifted towards you-- slowly beginning to approach your form as you did the same. He never forgets about you either; remembering those times when he got the chance to go on several little outings with you. Harry cherishes those days deeply.

"Hey." He begins with his usual charming smile etched upon his face, clearly directed toward you once he stopped just by a few inches away from your figure.

You returned his expression with a grin of your own, before responding back a "hey," before engulfing him into a tight embrace; one that is a mixture of longing and gratefulness.

He gradually wraps his arms around you as well; one of his hands gently held the back of your head, and the other around your waist with equal emotions being poured into it.

"I've missed you.." A soft murmur can be heard from him just right in your ear, "Missed you so much.."

The hug lasted longer than usual, though you didn't pay any mind to it. By this point, MJ has ushered Peter along to leave you two alone for now as you both are having your own moment.

"Have you been okay? God, I just missed you so much.." Harry keeps on repeating the last bits of his sentence, which elicited a light chuckle out of you as you're the first to slowly break away from the embrace.

Gazing up at him, your eyes possess the gentlest expression as ever as you spoke. "And I missed you so much too.. I've been okay, but it gets boring sometimes."

".. and I'm just glad that you're finally here."

You are still the same woman that he has grown fond of, ever since his high school years. You never changed much.

Without thinking twice and purely based on how much time he has lost, he leans forward a bit, and places a soft kiss on your forehead, before holding you into his arms once more. He couldn't even seem to be able to wipe off the grin from his face either.

The way he smiles, dare you say, is one of those things that you considered as precious and contagious-- easily affecting to those around him. Like how could you ever resist? You had no other choice, but to willingly return his actions without any hint of hesitation whatsoever.

"Did you cut your hair?" His sudden question interrupts your train of thoughts almost instantly, brushing several strands of hair that's been covering the half bit of your face.

The affectionate gesture alone has rendered you speechless for a while there, yet you still appear quite unfazed by it since his gentle touch itself is quite hypnotizing to be experienced on.

"Ah, you noticed," you chuckled amusingly. "I did cut it. Just a bit though."

You didn't expect that he could be this observant, but then again, it's Harry we're talking about here.

"I don't know how you did it, but you still look so absolutely stunning to me.."

He just couldn't tear his gaze away from you, and he has no intentions of doing so just yet. You get the sudden feeling that he wanted to finally try doing something rather bold soon; probably in his own way of saying thank you, or he merely wanted to prove something to you.

And you didn't have any intentions to refuse at all, as it is something that you've been longing to do since his absence as well.

Slowly, his fingertips grazes along the side of your face-- pulling your face closer to his as he begins to lean in, angled his head slightly to the side as if he's ready to seal the special, secret deal between you both.

With his eyes fluttering shut and his hand now moving up to hold the back of your head tenderly; the other around your figure, you started to show some signs of reciprocation as you did the same-- closing your eyes as you waited for his arrival toward the main destination that only you have possessed.

It's not for long anymore--

"Hey you lovebirds!" MJ's voice rang through the air with a teasing tone underlying within it, looking quite amused as ever by the whole ordeal uncovering ahead.

"It's getting cold out here!"

That's when you and Harry abruptly broke apart from one another, having this rather embarrassed expression plastered on your faces-- as if you both didn't just try to kiss each other.

@luneariaa. do not repost; reblogs are alright. all rights reserved.

[melissa-kenobi]

Still Yours

[PS5 Harry Osborn x Reader]

A/N: hola, yes I am writing for Harry :) I love him too he's so adorable. :3 & yes there shall be a pt 2 for my Peter fic :D

Summary: Harry comes back.

***

"Just got a tip." MJ says as she checks her phone. "Raft's moving a couple of inmates to Ravenscroft tomorrow for evaluation."

"Did they say who?" Peter asks MJ as she walks to the door, grabbing her keys on the way.

"Nope! But I'm gonna find out." MJ smirks, a cheeky grin on her lips.

"Be careful MJ." You call out from the kitchen as she gives you a salute and walks out the door. Peter laughs as he walks up to you and gives you a hip bump, reaching for the jar.

"Hey! Not my cookies!" You say, ready to throw soapy water at him, but not before you hear MJ let out a shriek.

"MJ!" Both you and Peter call as you run out in a frightful shock after her only to see someone you never thought you'd see again.

Harry Osborn.

MJ runs up to him and gives him a big hug, squeezing the life out of him, a huge grin etched on her face. Peter follows after her, watching his best friend with a gentle smile.

"Woah!" Harry laughs, holding himself up with the help of a cane. "Doctor's haven't cleared me for MJ hugs yet!"

"Sorry..." MJ apologises sheepishly as she pulls back.

You watch from the steps as Peter hugs his best friend, taking comfort in the fact that he was here, telling him how much you had all missed him. Harry glances up from Peter's hug to see you standing by the steps, hands and arms still covered in bubbly soap, curly hair tied up, a few strands framing your features and a look of longing etched onto your face.

"Y/N..." Harry faintly whispers your name ever so sweetly as he looks at you. You watch his eyes soften as he pulled away from Peter and took a wobbly step towards you, almost falling, but Peter catches him, helping Harry stand up right. You hold in your tears as you rush back indoors, slamming the door and falling to the floor.

It had been two years. Two excruciatingly long fucking years since he went to Europe without mentioning a single word to you. No calls, no texts, nothing.

You had to find out from MJ, someone you'd barely spoken to in high school had told you. Mary fucking Jane had to tell you that your so-called boyfriend had gone to Europe and that no-one knew when he'd would be back or how to contact him.

You called him every single day, leaving voicemail after voicemail until his phone told you that his messages were full and that you couldn't leave anymore. You called Peter, each week asking if he had heard anything from Harry, but alas nothing. You had cried every night, praying, wishing that he would contact you somehow. That he hadn't just upped and left without good reason.

But no. Nothing.

So you got on with your life.

Got a job as kindergarten teacher, helped Peter with his Spider-Man stuff, became really good friends with MJ and moved on. Because if Harry had moved on, then so could you.

But now he was here. He was outside the door and you didn't know what to do.

***

Moments later Peter ran indoors calling your name, Harry following behind cautiously as he took in the appearance of the house.

"Y/N?? You still here?" Peter calls but can't seem to find you anywhere in the house. "I don't think she's h-

"Pete..." Harry sighs as he finds a handwritten note on the table. He still recognises your handwriting, a hand tracing over the note softly as he reads it. "She's gone."

"What do you mean she's gone?" Peter scoffs as he reads the note you wrote.

Hey Pete and MJ,

I'm sorry, seeing Harry again brought up some things. I need to clear my mind before anything. If you see him, tell him I did miss him and I do want to talk, soon.

Make sure he doesn't come after me, please Pete? And make sure you don't eat my cookies ... I'm talking about you Ms Watson... :)

Love you guys,

Cookie xx

Harry hears the sound of an engine being turned on and rushes to the door to try and catch you before you leave. He calls your name but it falls on empty ears as he watches you ride away on a black motorbike, curly hair blowing in the wind.

"She rides motorbikes now?" Harry says, eyes filled with adoration, but heart heavy with how much he had missed with you.

"Yeah...but she still doesn't let anyone touch it." Pete smiles, reading the bit about making sure MJ doesn't eat your cookies. However it soon turns into a frown as he looks at Harry. "She's changed alot since you left Harry."

"I know Pete. I know." Harry sits down, sighing deeply. "How do I fix this Pete?"

Peter exhales heavily. "I don't know."

***

It was coming up to 2 weeks since you had run from Harry. From everything.

You don't know why you did.

Maybe you were scared. Scared he didn't need you anymore. Maybe he didn't love you anymore.

MJ had messaged you a million times, making sure you were okay, even sending you pictures of her and Peter with your cookie jar, making sure you'd seen she hadn't eaten any of them. Peter, on the other hand, thought he was subtle. He had swung around where you were staying, keeping an eye on you making sure you weren't falling back into old habits.

Cookie 🍪: pete, you know I can see you?

Pete 🕷: whaaaat? im with mj at home

Cookie 🍪: *sends picture attachment*

Pete 🕷: :O

Pete 🕷: sorry cookie, just wanted to make sure you were safe :(

Cookie 🍪: im okay petey :)

Pete 🕷: i know. harry says hi. he misses you. we miss you

Cookie 🍪: I'll be home soon, promise, love you guys x

Pete 🕷: love you too cookie x

You decided to go home after Peter's text.

***

Seconds after pushing the keys in the door, you were tackled in a massive hug from MJ, who squeezed the living hell out of you and would not let go. You'd barely gotten your helmet off before it dropped to the floor.

"MJ! I'm fine, you can let go now!" You mumble against her hair. "Please, my bones are gonna crack and you don't even have super strength..."

"Don't ever do that again. Please?" MJ says as she pulls away holding your face.

"Sorry red, I promise I won't." You say squeezing her hands gently, making her pull a face at your nickname for her. Peter smiles as he sees you, pulling you into a albeit gentler hug.

"You good?" Peter asks as you nod in response, wallking backwards towards the staircase.

"I'm gonna put my stuff away and I'll-

"Hi..." Harry breathes out, walking down the stairs, coming face to face with you. His red hair, a slight mess on his head, a smile askew on his rosy lips while he observed every inch of your face as if you'd disappear again if he said something wrong. You could sense those feelings you'd buried deep for him wanting to resurface. No, needing to resurface. A red curl had fallen onto his forehead and you instantly to brush it away.

You weren't ready, but it was now or never.

"Hi." You mumble back, suddenly shy as you avoided looking at him. Because if you did, you were sure it was going to break your heart again.

"We'll leave you two to talk..." Peter says, squeezing your hand in comfort, before heading upstairs with MJ. "Hear him out, Cookie..."

You nod back at Pete and MJ, giving them a smile.

"Hi...I er- sorry I already said that..." Harry says shy, stuttering over his words making you let out a small laugh.

He hadn't changed.

His head lifts up, eager to hear your sweet laughter again, "So you and Pete?" Harry says as he smiles softly at you.

"What? No! No way- he's with MJ!" Your eyes go wide before realising he was teasing you. "You're teasing me..."

He hold his hand up in surrender as a soft smile appears on his lips, as he tilts his head, eyes filled with a gentle longing. You couldn't help but notice how much it suited him, how much he had matured. He was still the same Harry you knew, but his features had grown. He no longer had that beanie he always wore, his eyes were brighter than before, filled with hope.

Harry seemed to notice the look on your face and sighed, "I'm sorry, I am so sorry- about everything. Can- can I explain?"

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. "Let's sit down."

You walk over to the couch and take a seat, Harry following suit, sitting closer than you expected.

"Sorry.." He instantly apologised, shuffling back. You don't know what made you put your hand on his leg, making him freeze as he instinctively went to hold your hand.

"I didn't- sorry..." You mutter, looking down, feeling like a shy teen all over again.

Harry lets out a small laugh, squeezing your hand and rubbing the top of it with his thumb. "Reminds me of our 3rd date at Coney-

"When the stupid candy guy pushed me into you and-

"I caught you, but your face was a red as a tomato, and you wouldn't look at me for the rest of our date till I-

"Till you kissed me..." You finish off blushing as you looked up at Harry. Gosh, you really did miss him. "What happened Harry?"

His lips turn into a grimace, eyes still on you. "Europe was a lie. I was in the city in isolation undergoing treatment. I didn't want you guys to worry. I didn't want you to worry..."

"Harry..." You mutter softly, gently playing with his fingers. "I wish you would have told me, so you wouldn't have had to go through it alone."

"No. It was my choice and I had to live with that. I couldn't put you through that pain." Harry sighs, looking at your entwined fingers, his heart aching. "I saw what my father went through when my mom passed, and I- I didn't want the same to happen to you."

"Is it the same thing your mom had?" You asked, looking at him, tears in your eyes.

"It was..." He smiles as you glance up at him. "We think it's in remission."

You gasp in joy and pull him into a hug. "Really? That's wonderful news!"

Harry feels his heart pound as you hug him- he's missed this. "I- I missed you, more than anything. I'm so sorry for the way I left things, for what I put you through, even though I was trying to protect you. I hurt you even more. I listened to all your voicemails every single one, and then one day they just stopped. I thought-"

Pulling back slightly from him you stare at him. "You thought what? That I'd moved on?"

He nods.

"Harry... how could I? You are the love of my life, I never stopped loving you, even when I was so frustrated and angry with you." You admit, because you truly never stopped loving him. "But I understand, I understand you trying to protect us. To protect me."

"I- thank you." Harry sighs in relief, he hated having this feeling of you being angry and disappointed hanging over him. "I- you still love me?"

You bite your lip and look down, feeling shy all of a sudden, Harry puts a finger on your chin and tilts your head up. "I still love you too. I never stopped, all I could think about was you."

"Harry..." Tears slowly fill the corners of your eyes before you wipe them away.

"Can we start over?" Harry asks sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Would you like to go on a date with me? Coney Island?"

You smirk at him, "Are you going to try and kiss me again?"

"Are you going to turn red again?" Harry teases back.

"I did not! It was cold!" You lightly shove him, but he catches your arms and pulls you into him. Harry places a gentle kiss on the top of your head as he holds you in his arms snugly.

"Is that a yes Cookie?" Harry softly asks, absentmindedly rubbing your hip.

*thump* *thump* *thump*

The two of you jump up only to see MJ and Peter roll down the stairs, Peter trying to help MJ but ending up on the floor, MJ on top of him as she looks up at you with a huge grin on her face.

"Say yes, you doofus!" MJ laughs, and Peter is nodding enthusiastically like a golden retriever.

You throw a pillow in their direction before rolling your eyes at their antics. You can't stop the smile on your face as you pull Harry into a kiss and whisper yes.

***

"Hey, how comes you never let me on your bike? And you never let me eat your cookies!" Peter asks with a fake sad face as he reaches to touch it. But before he can, you lightly slap his hand away.

"You're Spider-Man. You don't need a bike." You deadpan.

"Besides, Harry's my fiance now. So what's mine is his." You smirk as you settle onto your bike, Harry slipping on behind as he wrapped his arms around your waist, placing a kiss on your cheek. "Including my cookies."

"See ya Pete!" Harry childishly sticks his tongue out at Peter as you ride away laughing.

"MJ, you gotta learn how to ride a bike..." Peter mumbles to himself.

***

[starlightsuffered]

you once had a smut fic where timmy was harry osborn and found out that reader was spider girl or something and I can’t find it anymore😭 do you still have it?

A/N - hey I hope this is the one you meant. I hadn’t gotten around to reposting it yet

Little Insect

Info - spider girl reader, dark harry, slight possession, hard Dom, pet names, teasing, degrading, dub con, gagging, ass slapping, sucking clothing, whipping with belt, breeding kink, enemies, hate fuck, choking, sun Fem, superhero's and villains, established relationship, secret identity, rough sex, allusions to cnc, licking tears, slave talk, humiliation, innocence ruining, clit slapping

"Spider girl?" Harry asked in absolute disbelief. He towered over me in that moment. I thought telling my long term boyfriend about my secret identity would be helpful.

It hadn't been long ago that I'd found out who he was. The Green Goblin's son, and heir to the mask. I thought perhaps if I told him who I was, what side I was on, maybe he would change his mind about destroying the forces of good in this world.

"Yes, and I know who you are. You don't, you don't have to pick up your father's legacy," I soothed him.

Before I knew it I was thrown against the wall. My head knocked into the black paint. Harry's image swirled before me. I saw two of him and each wore a fierce grin.

"You think you're better than me don't you. Friendly neighbour hood spider. Is that what you are y/n?" He crooned. A large hand ran lightly down my cheek. I gasped as I felt his knee wedge between my legs.

"You are so high and mighty little insect," he said with gleaming green eyes, the colour of his father's possession.

"I just try to do good," I claimed through gritted teeth. It was an effort not to rub myself on his thigh. Being so powerful had given me a list to be dominated. I wanted to be the one not in charge. I had never told Harry this, but I had always wondered if he guessed.

"Good," Harry scoffed and his thigh raised up and gave friction to my swelling clit.

"Purity, kindness, equity, none of those are real little girl," he purred.

"They can be-" I said before his hand circled my neck. My breath hitched dramatically. I felt wetness pool in my heat. My senses could interpret what he would do next, yet I didn't want to stop him.

"Is it pure that you're getting wet from this?" He goaded.

"Fuck," I gasped. I loved the feeling of his hand on my throat.

"You're not better than me," he snarled. "Not when I can crush you like the insect you are."

His lips crashed to mine with bruising force. He bit my bottom lip harsh and rough. I loved the feeling of being small and taken advantage of.

His hand tightened on me. He seemed possessive and angry. He fisted my hair and dragged me to the bed. He turned me over and slapped my ass.

"Bury your head in the mother fucking bed," he snapped at me.

"Take over my city and I take over your body," he snapped. He didn't even both to push down his pants the whole way. I heard the clink of his belt. The whipped the leather across my ass.

"You're a fucking bitch, knowing who I am. You probably thought it was so funny didn't you. I have the upper hand now," he hissed.

He licked his fingers and two furiously rubbed at my clit. I whined into his forest green bedspread. I felt the nudge of his cock on my dipping entrance.

"Such a wet whore," he laughed. Then he was balls deep inside me. I let out a noise of pain and pleasure as I was stuffed to the brim with cock.

"Mmmff," I moaned as he began to pump his thick dick in and out of me. He fed off his own pleasure, only caring about how tight I was.

"You think you can do this place any good when you're this weak for my cock?" He chuckled. "We could be fighting to the death and I'd have to do is offer my dick to suck and you'd give up your morals and purity."

"H-Harry," I gasped. I struggled up onto my hands. It wasn't to pull away, but to back further into his thrusts.

"Atta girl," he said darkly. "My little sex slave."

"Yes, yes, all yours. I worship you," I breathed. He seemed to like that because his balls began to slap me extra hard. I was mewling in pleasure.

"Taking is raw like a fucking whore, can't fight crime with a swollen pregnant belly," he whispered in my ear. He was hovering over me, his hips thrusting with earth shattering movements.

"Oh holy hell," I gulped.

"What if I kept you locked away. What if I chained the friendly neighbourhood girl and kept her belly all full of my cum. Your womb bursting. You'd be so big and round that you wouldn't be able to do a thing against me. I quite like that idea. I deserve to know a secret I think, after all this time of you knowing mine. New York will wonder where their hero has gone, but I'll know. I'll know where I hold you, chained and wet and ready for me to use again. I'll know just how bursting with cum you are. My cum, all my cum."

I was silent other than my little whimpers. The idea was too tantalising to comprehend. I felt myself going heady. I felt weak but buzzing with lust.

He stopped all movement then. I had been on the precipice of orgasm. I was gushing slick. I felt near tears now that the friction and pounding was gone.

"Harry," I keened.

"Say you want it," he said in a low dangerous voice.

"What?" I gasped.

"Say you want what I just said," he whispered. Slow, slowly, so slow; he rubbed circles on my aching mound. I let out an almost painful moan.

"Say. It."

"I want it. I want it all. I want to be your whore and have your babies. I need to be your slut," I said with shaking syllables.

"Now say you'd trade the city of New York for my dick," he mumbled in my ear. He licked up a tear that trickled from my eye. I remembered how that delicate tongue had kindly made me come so many times. Not now. I was his property now and I didn't deserve kindness. I couldn't believe I liked it that way.

"I-I would-" I couldn't say it. This city was my mission. I was their saviour. Ever since I'd been bitten by that spider I knew I had a great responsibility.

"Say it, you can do it little creature," he crooned. The moment of kindness was all it took.

"I'd trade anything for your dick," I promised.

"That's it," he said and slammed forward to sheath himself inside me again.

"In fact, let's make it even sweeter," he mocked me. He picked up the soft part of his Goblin suit. It was the part that stuck close to his skin and hugged his body. It smelled of sweat. It smelled of him. He shoved the mesh in my mouth.

"Come with your enemies suit in your mouth like the pathetic bitch you are," he said in the most horrifying voice yet.

Then he was fucking me like a wild thing. Every snap of his hips earned a muffled whimper of gratitude from me. I was arching into him. I felt so alert and wild and absolutely tingling with elation.

"That's it, take it, take my fucking cock. I bet you're drooling all over my suit. You may best me in a fight but now you're sucking needily on my blood, sweat, and tears," he mocked me.

He smacked my raw ass. I wanted to be covered in his bruises and cum. I wanted to be possessed by everything he was. I was a piece of property and I loved it.

Suddenly, he pulled out. I screamed in protest. He turned me over, my stomach heaving and my tits heavy with want.

"Not good enough for my cum inside you," he grunted as he wanked his huge cock. He began to shoot ropes of hot goodness all over my torso. He was dousing me in himself.

He landed a smack to my pussy. My engorged clit stung gratefully. I was gasping for air. My pleasure completely took my breath away.

"Gonna get off on just this slut, huh? Gonna get off on just this?" He asked in a ragged voice. He was squeezing the drops of cum from his head onto my body as he flicked my sore bundle.

I came, a sobbing mess of cum and beaten bliss. I was writhing from the immense overstimulation of it all. He was grinning like a maniac as he lapped up my tears.

"Don't you get it little bug," he said in my ear. The brush of his lips made me jerk in the aftershock of orgasm. "A Parker will never beat an Osborn."

[iridescentparkers]

vanilla palm trees → two - dark n' stormy

vanilla palm trees → dark n' stormy

summary ⇢ it’s been years, he should get over it, right? but, peter just can’t. he looks up, he sees her. he goes to bed, he dreams of her. he wakes up, he can smell her. he goes out one night and he sees…her. no, not gwen but his ticket to stop moping around on the anniversary of her death. what is meant to be one quick night of putting sadness on the back burner, is now a blossoming new love that feels all too perfect for peter. was this new woman in his life meant to be? or was this just another set of poorly dealt cards that would leave him walking away empty handed. all or nothing, right? ↝ college!au ↝ one night stand gone wrong trope | masterlist

parings ⇢ tasm!peter parker x female reader

warnings ⇢ smut (18+),

a/n ⇢ if i see one minor, you’re blocked. so serious.

AS PETER JINGLED THE KEY TO HIS APARTMENT, the door swung open, and he and the woman entered. The two were both slightly tipsy, playfully tripping over Peter’s hallway rug. Like teenagers, they were making out in the back on the taxi cab on the way here before stumbling to Peter’s front door.

The excitement between them was contagious, intoxicating even. Each kiss left Peter wanting more and more of this mystery woman. They both giggled between kisses, tipsy not only from alcohol but from each other. 

After closing the door behind him, the pair hurriedly threw their coat and shoes before, like magnets, clinging to each other again. Each kiss sparked more excitement inside of Peter than before. Each moan he let out into the mouth of the woman whose name he didn’t know made him harder. His hardness almost made him uncomfortable.

Peter’s hand gripped the back of the woman’s head, tugging slightly on her hair. She moaned in his mouth as they backed into his hallway as he pinned her against the wall.

He bit down on the side of her neck before she removed her top, revealing her black bra, nipples slightly hardened through the material. Peter moved his mouth lazily around them, cupping them as his hair tickled the side of her neck. 

As he sucked harder, the two fumbled as she attempted to remove her pants. The clumsiness between them was so sloppy that they couldn’t help but laugh between each kiss. Each giggle echoed through the silent apartment, lessening any previous tension. 

Catching his breath, Peter panted before he removed his top, revealing his light abs to the woman. She ran a smooth hand along his chest, snaking her hand down to his belt buckle, tugging it closer to her body. She palmed his hardness, stroking her fingers along his zipper. Peter shuddered at the gesture, letting out a small whimper at her touch. 

“I wanna feel you,” he urged. He grunted as he felt his insides hitch as the kiss deepened, the sensation warming their bodies as he bit down on the woman's lip. The woman moaned as he lifted her against the wall, Peter hiking her legs around his back. 

“I need you so bad,” she cried, pulling away from his lips. He lifted her into his room, dropping her on his bed.  Peter ran his fingers up along her thigh before slipping them beneath her panty line, playing with it. He moved his fingers beneath her underwear, stroking the inside of her legs before tugging off the pair. 

He then ran a finger along her clit, rubbing it gently as her mouth opened slightly. The strokes grow quicker and deeper as they fall into a newfound rhythm. Sweat lingered on them as she grew closer with each motion, shuddering closer to Peter’s body.

Her moans grew increasingly louder as she dug her nails into his back, pushing her face into his shoulder. As Peter slipped a finger inside, she bit down on her lip, holding back several sounds underneath him. He kissed her and then rubbed his thumb along her nipple, making her cry out even harder underneath him. He took in all of her, the way her hair fell as she threw her head back, and even how beautiful she looked like this. But saying that aloud would be so…weird. They had just met after all. 

“I’m so close,” she whimpered, gripping him tighter.

“You’re doing so good.” He remarked, lifting her head to look at him while she remained on her back. He peppered kisses along her front and up to her breast before placing it in his mouth, drawing circles around it. 

Peter pulled his fingers and lips away from her and reached over to protect himself. He reached into the drawer next to him to grab a condom out of his drawer.

"Is this ok," he asked, and she nodded before he slowly entered her, pleasure filling them both. 

This newfound rhythm overtook them, Peter then hiking her leg around his back as he kissed her deeply.

“Can you move a bit, faster? Please.” She whimpered, pulling out of the kiss. Peter nodded, picking up the rhythm and tucking his head in her neck. 

“I’m gonna come,” she hitched, gripping her nails deeper into his back. He felt her warmth underneath him, the woman coming undone as catching her breath as Peter was close behind. He finished soon after, gently pulling out as the woman cried in discomfort. 

“Can I use your bathroom,” she slurred, Peter unsure if she had sobered up or dizzy from the heat of the moment. 

“Right down the hall,” he remarked, pointing outside as she pulled back on her underwear. 

12:58, he read on his watch, feeling his brows raise on his face. It was almost 1?! They were out for that long? Jesus, this was such a terrible idea. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He didn’t even know her name for Christ's sake. 

The toilet flushed in the distance, and Peter heard floorboards creak as she shuffled back into his room, “Hey.”

“Hi,” Peter greeted back. Her makeup was slightly smeared, eyeliner building under her eyeballs as she rubbed harder against them. 

“I was going to call a cab home, and not to overstay my welcome, but I don’t know if I can.” She remarked. 

Thudding hit the window, and Peter watched as snow poured outside. Below, the city streets began to be covered with ice and hail. Grabbing his boxers nearby, he ran to his living room and turned on the local news station. The woman then followed. The television flashed warnings and alerts of the hailing outside, Peter being too busy in his room to pay attention before. 

“It won’t be safe until early morning,” she muttered, hugging herself behind his couch. 

“We better make ourselves comfortable then,” Peter began. “You hungry?”

He asked her as he moved to the fridge. She furrowed her brows as she watched him trail over to his fridge. “You never told me your name.”

“Peter.” 

“Y/N.”

"Would you like a drink?”

“Water would be amazing,” Y/N replied, sitting at his kitchen barstool, wearing some of Peter’s old sweats and eating some of the only food Peter and Harry had in their pantry. The place didn’t look like a bachelor pad, but the pantry told visitors everything they needed. 

Peter grabbed some of his old PJs in his drawer and threw them on. He let Y/N shower, figuring this night out, and had no choice but to turn whatever they had just done into a sleepover. They both drowned in a deafening silence. Y/N moving between her phone and watching Peter, and Peter pretending to clean or look for something in his cabinets. The block of tension filling the room could easily be sliced down the middle. 

“You won’t have to worry about me sneaking out tomorrow morning,” she joked, awkwardly sipping the bottle of cold water. 

“That’s how these things usually go for you?” He asked, drinking from his water bottle. His face didn’t flinch, Y/N widening her eyes at his expression.

“That or the guy’s girlfriend is about to come home, and he kicks me out himself.” She cringed. 

“Yikes,” he says, sipping his drink, and they laugh. 

“It only happened once. I swear. And, I had no idea.” Y/N commented, watching Peter clean up in his kitchen. She looked around at his apartment, analyzing the outrageously clean surroundings, “You went to Colombia?”

“I’m a senior there,” he comments, looking at the small pennant flag hanging on his corkboard. Her eyes widened. 

“Oh my god.” she says, running her hand along her forehead.”

“What?” He laughed, throwing back a bit of the chilled drink. 

“How old are you?”

“22.”

“Oh my god,” she chuckled hysterically, throwing her face in the base of her palms.

“What?” he chuckles, each laugh breathy as he watches her from behind the countertop.

“I feel like such a cougar.” She stated, dropping her hands and looking up at him with her head remaining angled to his kitchen floor. 

“It can’t be that bad.” He says, taking another sip of his drink. “How old are you?”

“26.”

“Pfft, that’s nothing,” he scoffs, lowering his eyelids and beer bottle from his lips.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing,” Peter states, taking a final sip of his chilled drink.

“Alright fair enough,” Y/N remarked, shrugging her shoulders as she took a swig of her drink.

“You have your secrets, and I have mine.”

“Now I have a question.” He stated.

“Hit me.”

He hesitated, taking a large swig before he began, “What were you doing in a college bar?”

Y/N huffed, watching her bare hand on the counter, feeling cold next to her chilled drink, “Nothing.”

“Not fair,” he told her, “I gave you something about me.”

“Ask anything else,” she remarked, her response cold yet blunt. Her iciness towards the subject let Peter know he was in danger. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” 

“What do you do for a living,” he asked, the weightiness in the room lifting slightly. 

“Seems boring, but I’m an art historian. I have a fellowship with a local gallery.” 

“It’s not boring,” Peter commented. “At all. Who told you that?”

“Everyone I know. They just don’t get it. Art isn’t just about paint and borning shapes. It holds memories and influences of historical events.” She told him, and Peter watched as she lit up inside. “I love what I do.”

“I can tell,” he smiled, admiring her secretly behind the countertop. He moved from around the counter to in front of her seated position, “And they say I’m the nerd.”

“Shut up,” she laughed at his teasing. “What do you even do? Finance?”

“So close,” he joked, squeezing his index and thumb together. “Mechanical Engineering.” 

They both laughed in the comfort of his kitchen, “Yeah, I think you win.” 

“No, seriously, art is such an underappreciated medium,” he commented. “Good for you, doing something that you love.” 

Peter stood there, watching as she looked up at him, reveling in their quick but blaring loud silence. Something about her seemed so familiar, so homey, but so new. So fresh. He liked this feeling and planned to dwell on it for as long as possible.

“Let’s watch a movie.”

Breathlessly, she spoke up, “Sure.”

Who knew watching a movie with someone you were once so intimate and close with could be so...silent? They were just talking moments ago. Peter swore to himself he wasn’t at all awkward. And it wasn’t like this movie was engaging. 

On the couch, the two were slightly close, thighs touching but nothing more. 

Should he reach over? What the hell was this?    

He looked over at her, watching as she fixated on the TV screen. He didn’t move, but he smelled something familiar. Peter smelled his shirt first, then his hands, only to move closer to Y/N, breathing her in as- “Are you smelling me?”

His eyes widened, looking down at how he was now seated. Their legs were pressed together, Peter’s chest almost completely behind her figure. Dumbfounded, he spoke, “No I-”

The lights in his apartment flickered several times, making the two startle in their seats, “What was that?”

Peter spoke up, moving to the edge of his seat. Looking around, he watched as the lights continued to flicker until the apartment went completely black. “Damn it.”

He moved to the power surge, flicking different switches back and forth, but nothing would budge, “Powers’ out.” 

“Are we gonna freeze?” 

Peter moved to his kitchen, scrambling for things in his kitchen. Pulling out some beers, candles, matches, and some old hand warmers lodged in his junk drawer he said, “Not with these we won’t.”

[jasonbrdy]