#dane dehaan x reader

[spider-stark]

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.

[imagine--if]

A/N: I've always loved Harry but I've rewatched TASM and I've gotta write for him now to fill up his tag a bit.. and cus it's hArRy 🥰 so there are more fics for him to come!! also, am I the only one who rambles when I'm nervous? I'm gonna safely assume not lol 😅 dorky readers are cuteeee

Wordcount: 460

It was interesting, to say the least, to see how the lucky few got to live in San Fransico, all the executives and bosses and CEOs gathered together for their fancy gathering poorly disguised not to look like a place to trade business and earn even more money, though their conversations always drifted back to it.

You grabbed your things together from your desk at the end of the day at Oscorp, swinging your bag over your shoulder and brushing your hair out of your face tiredly. Everyone knew by now about Norman Osborn's death, and there were a lot of contrasting opinions about his son taking over the company at such a young age. You'd never met him properly yourself, and were pretty convinced that he wouldn't be much different from the other money-makers strutting through the building and giving you more and more work to do.

That is, of course, until you walk right into the man himself when you turn around to get to the elevator.

Your eyes widen in confusion and mild annoyance until they meet the cool, vaguely interested blue gaze of Harry Osborn, who surprisingly doesn't look at you like you're something he's scraped off his shoe. If anything, he looks a little amused, raising a brow slightly as your brain short-circuits to think of a good enough excuse.

"Uh- I'm sorry, I wasn't.. looking where I was going," you say with an awkward smile, unconsciously rambling. "I was looking... that way, because... it's where I came from."

Again, instead of the look of disdain and apprehensiveness you half expected, Harry looks like he's trying not to laugh, glancing in the direction before looking back at you.

"It's okay," he says simply, a small smirk on his face, as he takes you in for a short moment. "You work here?"

You nod, smiling. "Yeah. And you do too? I mean... you're Harry Osborn, so... you're the CEO."

Harry's smirk grows. "I am, yeah."

You smile awkwardly, feeling as if the young man is searching your eyes for something, in a kind of interest or intrigue about your personality, and glance at the lift.

"I should probably..."

"Hang on," he calls after you as you go to walk away, and you turn back to see his cool blue eyes shining with curiosity... and something more that you couldn't quite identify. "What's your name?"

You tell him with a half-smile, and Harry repeats it thoughtfully, his gaze drifting for a moment before returning to you with the same intrigued smile and oddly intense stare.

"I'll see you around."

You smile, reaching the elevator. "You will?"

Harry smirks, pressing the elevator button for you as the thick glass doors seal close between you and him. "You will."

[fcknstar]

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. 

[ourloveisforthelovely]

My Personal Sunshine

Regulus Black AU 

Summary: You were the opposite of everyone Regulus was used to. You were happy and "sunny." Regulus didn't know what to make of it at first and sometimes he still doesn't. What Regulus does know, he never wants to lose you from his life.

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: Teen 

AO3 Link 

_______

You confused him. That was all that could be said. Regulus had never seen someone so happy. You were like a little ball of sunshine that graced his life and wouldn’t leave…

And for that I’ll be forever thankful.

Regulus wasn’t sure how or why you had fallen into his life but now he could never let you go. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried. As typical Regulus Black fashion, he tried to scare you off. He stayed cold and off-putting but it didn’t work. When he said something cold and angry, you would lightly pat his hand and offer a “there there, Reggie.” After saying that to him, Regulus fell into your hand like capable little putty.

How is she a Rosier?

That had been another question that Regulus would forever ask himself. You were nothing like the other Rosiers. Where Evan was cold and calculating you were sweet and trusting. Regulus knew that it drove Evan mad too.

“She’s going to get herself hurt. I am going to spend the rest of my life watching her. Death eaters don’t like to be patted and told they're a good boy.”

Evan had muttered to Regulus that morning on the way to potions. Regulus groaned and gave Evan an annoyed look. On the inside, he was panicking. What death eater were you calling a good boy?

“Who is she saying that to?”

Regulus questioned.

“Dolohov.”

Evan responded by throwing his book down.

“I can’t keep looking after my sister forever, Reg. Go talk to her. She listens to you…for whatever reason…oh right…she’s in love with you.”

“She is not.”

Regulus snapped. Evan’s mouth dropped.

“Really? Are you that blind? Who does she go to whenever she’s having a bad day…or her definition of a bad day? That’s right you. Who does she go to because she’s happy and wants to spread cheer? Also you. Who does she talk about none stop as if they are a bloody saint? Oh, right again…you”

Regulus raises an eyebrow but also can’t help feeling a smug feeling of glee. You came to him. Evan was right on that one. You came to Regulus for everything. Even if he didn’t say a word to you, you came to Regulus.

“She’s your bloody ball of sunshine.”

Evan muttered.

“Are you jealous?”

Regulus asked with a smirk. Evan rolled his eyes noticing his sister walking over.

“Speaking of sunshine….here she comes. Later.”

Evan gave you a smile before walking off. You watched your brother before turning your attention back to Regulus.

“I have been looking everywhere for you. How has your day been?”

You asked. Regulus shrugs. He hadn’t said much since the school year started and you knew why. Sirius had moved out over the summer in a show of epic drama. Regulus hadn’t said it but you knew he was struggling. He was struggling with seeing Sirius moving about school acting as if everything was fine. Regulus had to see his older brother acting as if he never had a younger brother. Regulus, to Sirius, was just another face in the crowd.

“Okay, I guess.”

Regulus grumbled as Sirius and James came running by. Both boys stopped to look at the two of you for a moment before busting out in laughter and running away.

“What’s so damn funny?”

Regulus said, his voice dropping in fury. Sirius wasn’t laughing earlier when he tried to talk to his younger brother. Now here he was acting cocky, because of James.

You, meanwhile, wrapped your arm through Regulus.

“His loss. Sirius has always been jealous that you are the smart one.”

“Right, and he’s the handsome one.”

It was your time to roll your eyes. Regulus led you down to the lake. Sitting down beside the tree, he laid back so his head was on your lap. You immediately began to stroke your fingers through his perfect curls.

“I wasn’t going to say that. I think you’re the handsome one. You with your perfect hair, perfect jaw bone, lovely eyes, and your mouth….”

Regulus snorted.

“Are you blowing smoke up my ass?”

“Regulus Black, you silly.”

You went back to stroking your fingers through his hair. Regulus was quiet for a moment. As he looked up at you, he couldn’t deny those feelings of feeling “sunny” when you were around.

“Why do you like me so much?”

Regulus questioned. You giggled.

“For the same reason that you are lying on my lap. I like you for the same reason that you like me. We make each other feel safe and wanted.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. How did you put that together? Hell, he hadn’t even put that one together!

“Y/n…”

You gave him a happy “hmm” sound before twirling a few of his curls around your finger.

“You don’t have to say it, Regulus. I can read you like a book.”

“And how do you do that?”

Regulus questioned. Leaning down, you pressed your lips to his. For a first kiss, this one was awfully nice. Regulus lay silent before he placed a hand on your cheek.

“I have my ways.”

You said with a smile. Tracing your finger over Regulus’ nose, you watched as he clearly was trying ot put everything together.

“You like me?”

Regulus questioned. You nodded. Regulus sat up looking totally baffled.

“Why? I mean…I’m not nice. I’m moody…bitchy really. I’m just genuinely unpleasant to be around….you are like the opposite. You’re sunshine and rainbows…those two things just don’t go together…”

You reached out and pulled Regulus back down onto your lap. He looked up at you with a small smile.

“I like it though….the attention… it's nice. I like you…a lot…so much so that I don’t really know how to put it into words. I’m usually better at this.”

He added. Regulus was thrilled when you leaned back down for another kiss.”

“Every storm cloud needs a rainbow.”

______

@amelie-black @acciosiriusblack @knreidy1 @jessyballet @justfinishthis @georgeweasleydumbhoe @f4iryluvy @lostarc24 @daddyslittlevillain @panpride @regulusblackswhorecrux @missgorldafirst @saramaple @i-love-scott-mccall @s-we-e-t-t-ea @padf00ts-l0ver @readtomeregulus @goldensunshineshit @haroldpotterson @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @aurorasnape12 @eclipsejune @mentally-unstable-hoe @gugggu6gvai @jag9000 @quinis @buttercup-beeee @un-lovesherself @melaninnbarbie @dumybitch @play-more-led-zeppelin @ravenhood2792 @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @fific7 @rubyroscoe1 @bennyberry @criminalyetminimal @whymyparentscheckmyphone @lucasfilms77 @moonythemilf @spideyxalmighty @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @moldy-old-boot @hankypranky @summer-novak @shaylybaby2032 @knight-of-gleefulness @authoressskr @summer-novak @deanwherescas @shitfaceddaniel-blog @mycuddlycorner @emiwrites3reads @rogue-nyx88 @li0nh34rt @tas898 @marichromatic @wontlookaway @siriuslyceleste @sprnaturallover

[scorpiomother]

APOCALYPSE (pt. one)

summary: harry osborn sets you up on a blind date with his best friend, peter parker. peter isn’t too interested in the date, but can’t say no to coming home with you.

word count: 6.4k

warnings: explicit content. minors dni (+18) unprotected sex.

a/n: hope you all enjoy chapter one! unedited and just for fun! took forever to finally complete this! (: - s

playlist 𓆩♡𓆪 mood board 𓆩♡𓆪 read on ao3 𓆩♡𓆪 series list

CATALYST

“Do you want to come over?” Begging viridescent eyes pleaded for you to agree. But you knew better than that. To make a deal with the devil.

Harry Osborn was just some stuck-up rich kid with daddy's money. He was pretentious and you knew it the first time you met him during your interview to be his intern. Somehow, you qualified for more than an internship and he enjoyed your presence enough to request you as his secretary. You should’ve declined the position, but a job is a job, right? And who’s to deny a job with a convenient paycheck when you were living in America’s most expensive city? Not you, because you’re not dumb. But now, sometimes it felt like he just hired you as some eye candy or someone to permanently bug. Perhaps, both.

“I’m over here, aren’t I?” You huffed out.

He shook his head in annoyance but the grin on his face said otherwise. This was a common occurrence between you two. The usual game of cat and mouse. You both teased and asserted dominance and no one in particular ever wins. “Come over to my place tonight, Y/N.”

“Wow. Pretty straight to the point, Harry. Got tired of asking me out on a date?” You pouted.

“Y/N, I’m serious.” His body weight shifted to the door frame that led to his office. His arms were crossed as he leaned against the frame.

“And I’m serious when I told you I don’t go out with guys like you, Harry.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His eyes are locked in with yours. It’s a staring contest between you two and you would be damned if you lost. 

You let your tongue wet your bottom lip before telling him why everything about you two would be a bad idea. “You get everything you want.” You leaned forward against the desk, letting your breast spill over. Your eyebrows furrowed as you gave Harry the best doe eyes you possibly could as if the words you said weren’t meant to sting. “But I also get everything I want. So, someone would have to lose eventually. And I hate losing.”

Though he has been kind to you and relatively easy on the eyes, you weren’t going to have unprofessional relations with the man who signs your check. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t have fun with him, right? He was practically blonde and cheeky. Easy to talk to and good-looking. He had a sexy tired look, dark circles with enticing eyes that you could just swim in. Sometimes, the way he caught glimpses of you made your heart skip. How could you not at the very least flirt with him a little? 

“So I can’t have you?” It didn’t quite come out as a question. The way it slips out of his devilish grin made you want to succumb to him and tell him you can have all of me. But this wasn’t the first time you had to deal with him and his snide remarks. He smiled with such confidence as if he knows he will have you one day and you just don’t know it yet.

“You’re my boss, Mr. Osborn. I’m not dating my boss.”

“Who said anything about dating?” Harry thought he was slick when he quickly glanced at your exposed chest and back into your eyes. You may have won the staring contest but now for all you know, Harry was thinking about your chest. And that’s a win for him.

The game no longer feels fun and you squashed any semblance of sexual tension with a roll of your eyes and slouch back into the chair. “Is this why you hired me? To prey and harass me?” 

He rolls his eyes. “Fine. Then what’s your type?”

“Why?”

“Just answer, Y/N.”

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

You didn’t realize that out of all the people in the world, Harry Osborn was going to be setting you up on a blind date. A part of you felt like it was going to be a sick joke and Harry, himself, was going to walk through that door. Your supposed date was late and you felt yourself getting stood up. This man didn’t even know you and still bailed on you.

You blew air onto the once-steaming tea between your hands. It was cold now, but it was a habit to just blow on it. If you had something to keep you busy then possibly, the anticipated anxiety wouldn’t bubble over. That was the theory at least.

The cafe was quiet and dim. You noticed how the clouds slowly pulled over the sky, hiding the sun behind its grey. The April showers were more frequent now and you were smart enough to bring an umbrella in preparation for when they came. There was a bell that chimed when the door opened. You brought your attention towards the entrance to see a lanky boy in a grey jacket that ate him up. With wandering eyes, he looked around the cafe searching for someone. “Y/N?”

When he called your name it was like a command to you. Your legs pushed you up from the chair. You forced yourself to speak. “Hi?”

He towered over you with his slender and long limbs. He looked scrawny and sweet, his resemblance close to a puppy. In his grasp were a skateboard and a backpack perched on a shoulder. A sheepish smile spread across his face. “I’m Peter. I’m sorry I was late.”

“It’s okay. Y/N, but… You already knew that, though.”

Clear, barely-there-pink polish is chipping at your nails and it’s taking every ounce of you to not peel it off. Being focused on this date was the last thing you wanted to do. He took a seat across from you and took a second to drink you in. Your fingers grasped tighter onto your mug as if it would comfort you and help you make it through this situation. You thought that maybe you wanted it to be a joke so you wouldn’t have to try to woo over this man. It was easier to stay in your comfort zone than meet a handsome stranger at a coffee shop in Brooklyn.

The introductions and small talk were stiff, but you learned that he was in his third year of college for Biophysics and was extremely smart despite his overall lack of confidence. Harry listened to you when you said you liked nerdy boys and it was surprising that Harry could do anything remotely selfless or maybe you just underestimated him.

You felt your throat getting drier and drier as the conversation between you two continued. You wished that you were less observant and more naive. Then you would believe the date was going just fine. Then the bitter taste in your throat would be nothing but the oolong tea you’re nursing or even just a strange coincidental sensation. But every time you took a good look at Peter, his eyes never met yours and his pupils looked almost lifeless. You assumed it was the lack of confidence to excuse his averting eyes and closed-off personality, but you realized it was the lack of interest. He was just going through the motions and seemingly, to him, you were not a real human being with tangible emotions.

You attempted to keep up the intrigued act but you feel it slowly faltering. “Wow, so you work at the Daily Bugle? That’s awesome.”

“Yeah, but you know. I just take pictures,” he said modestly. 

You were waiting for something significant to happen. A phone call. Sudden closure of the coffee shop. A car crashing into the window. His eyes were wavering and his disinterest was clear. It would be a good time to suddenly combust into a million pieces of shame, considering you thought he was extremely cute. You wanted to be pulled away from this experience and give him a regretful oh no, I have to go!

Peter cleared his throat before taking a sip of his coffee. “So how do you know Harry?” 

“Unfortunately, he’s my boss. You?”

“Right. You work at OSCORP. I should’ve put that together…But, I guess you could say we’re best friends,” he shrugged like it was no big deal.

You laughed softly to yourself, “Harry Osborn is someone's best friend?”

“I think the same thing every day,” you were both smiling to yourselves, never looking up from the table. The topic of Harry has him perked up. “When we first met, mind you we were children, he had a wad of cash in his tiny baby hands and with all seriousness, he said, ‘be my friend’ and tried to give it to me!”

You feel bubbly from the thought of it. In disbelief, you said, “No way.”

“Yeah! He thought he could just buy me!”

“You were a baby escort!” You made a sour face.

“Exactly!” He shook his head, his eyes crinkling and cheeks starting to burn. Your hands were covering your smirk in an attempt to smother a cackle. 

“What did you say to him?”

“I said ‘you can’t buy friends.’ And he said ‘watch me!’ Then, he walked up to some other kid and handed him the money. He stuck his tongue out as if he bought the greatest, most loyal friend of all time!”

“He gave you that smug look, didn’t he? The one where he thinks he won.”

“Yes! That’s the one! The stupid look. And then the next day he had the audacity to bug me about how the kid wasn’t being a good friend!” Peter’s smile was radiating. It felt so warm.

“Of course not.” You’re amused with the thought of Harry as a child and it shows on your face. You’re pleased to have this new ammunition for the next time you see him. “Not much has changed with him, huh?”

“No. Not at all.” He said reminiscing.

You were simmering down from that spark and the quietness sat between you two once again. If you had been blind, then you could say the chemistry was starting to blossom. He was charming once the conversation was flowing. But as you stare at this man, you find him more and more inscrutable as his smile faded.

“Are you okay?” Your lips moved without realizing it.

“Oh?” He tilted his head in confusion, his eyes on your twiddling fingers, “Yeah, why do you ask?”

“You just seem… Like you’re not into this.”

“Ah, shit… Is it that obvious?” His eyebrows raised in surprise when it comes out like it wasn’t him who said it. “Shit. Not that I’m not not into this- Into you! I’m just… I have a lot on my mind right now and I-”

You gave him a nod, an uneasiness in you pulling at your mouth. “Peter, it’s okay.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just…”

“It’s okay,” you reassured him once more. “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

He finally brought himself to look at you, really look at you. His brown whisky eyes glowed into yours for the first time. You felt yourself getting drunk off of his whisky eyes and your belly stirred with warmth. This stammering idiot was making your heartbeat without words or actions. A simple look was all it took.

At this point, it was dark out from the lingering clouds, and most patrons in the cafe had left. It was silent and you were worried he could hear your heart pounding. His eyes were the first to look away. You licked your lips, hoping this would reward you with another glance. “I should probably go.”

He nodded his head without looking at you, the apathetic mask secured tightly onto his face. Your heart dropped in disappointment. The moment you shared with him was nothing but a moment. Fleeting and gone.

“I’ll walk you,” he said.

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

Walking to your apartment in silence was one way to do it, but it was definitely the most awkward way to go about it. It was late into the afternoon and you felt as though you wasted a perfectly good Saturday with this indifferent man. With him walking by your side, you noticed he’s significantly taller than Harry by a couple of inches.

The air was balmy and the streets were no busier or quieter than usual. There were clicks coming from your heels, the impact from the hard concrete being the only thing you could focus on. Your eyes were glued to your Doc Martens, Peter’s converse sauntering through the streets in your peripheral. You were hyper-fixated on avoiding anything that looked suspicious and that included harmless green gum that stuck to the pavement. It was better to worry about your cleanliness than this terrible date that Harry had set you up on. Harry wanted you to see that no one compares to him and that you should just give him a chance. That’s what you thought and you were embarrassed to tell him how the date went.

You avoided any cracks in the concrete, a game that normally keeps you grounded, but at this moment you used it to distract yourself. Drops of liquid made the concrete look like it has a terrible case of chicken pox. The darker grey spots start to fill up the surface area. There’s a drop of wetness dripping from your forehead to your cheek, looking almost like you were shedding a single tear. You heard a mumble of fuck come from Peter. He was slightly ahead of you, the back of his head in your vision.

“Oh, I have an umbrella.” Your voice came out more hoarse than you intended. 

Peter’s head shook in disagreement, allowing you to catch the slight frown on his face. “No. We have to go before it starts to get worse.”

“What? But I have an umbrella?” You started reaching into your tote bag before Peter took your wrist, and suddenly he was dragging you behind his slender legs.

Once you realized the two of you were running, you took repossession of your hand and started letting your strides get bigger in an attempt to keep up with his long limbs. Taking a deep breath, you caught a whiff of fresh rain and good ol’ city sewer that you’re normally able to ignore. The New York streets were ingrained into your senses, but on damp days the smell and essence of millions of people and rats permeated the air more intensely.

“Peter?” You called out to him, worried.

“Just run!” Peter replied without looking back, and though he could easily leave you in your tracks, he purposely kept a pace that is manageable for you. You’re stuck thinking, where did this sudden sense of urgency come from?

The light rain drops that tenderly grazed against your cheeks turned into pricks of needles hailing from above. The umbrella that weighed down your now soggy bag was mocking you. Your wet fingers were twitching to pull it out and shield you from the sudden downpour, but like a loyal and obedient dog, you adhered to Peter’s command. Just run. And so you followed him down the saturated streets that led to your apartment.

The feeling of your cardigan got heavier on your back, the rain permeating through the wool, spawning a shiver down your neck. “You must really not like rain!”

“Hate it!” He said. “It’s my camera!” He glanced back at you, his dark hair sopping and sticking to his forehead. He throws his thumb back, gesturing to his bag. And despite him and his backpack being drenched, the once apathetic man is now beaming with ecstasy. “You okay?”

“I’m okay,” you seemed to get out, appalled by the caprice of his mood. The analogous of nothing to everything with the weather and Peter stirred something in you. Your thoughts were stuck on the way that Peter will give you no crumb of himself and then like the weather, pour out all he is into you and give you the brightest smile a man could give. And that was everything to you.

“Take a right here!” You yelled to him. 

Turning onto the new street was atrocious with people pressing up against each other and umbrellas crashing against other umbrellas. It was human traffic. Peter reached out for your hand more gently this time. His worry for his camera has dissipated as he respectfully followed the traffic flow. He didn’t shove or push his way out or yell at people to get out of his way. He was gentle with how he held your hand. This gives you a second to catch your breath but it feels humid and sticky as everyone waddles past each other like penguins.

When you reached the end of the block, a red light deterred any movement. Your hand was still glued to Peter’s and whether it was intentional or not, you were thankful. Unlike the rest of your body, your hand was warm and you were clinging to the warmth Peter shared with you. 

“I was in such a rush, and we ended up being rained on, anyways,” Peter said, eyes cemented on the crosswalk.

For what seemed like the hundredth time, you told him, “It’s okay.” Except, it came out as a pitiful breath. Peter noticed this and you were granted his rare attention. Unfortunately, you were less than graceful at the moment. You were trying your best not to look like you’re heaving from complete enervation. Exhaustion drained your face and it looked like blood was rushing to the apples of your cheek. It was the worst time for him to study you.

In your peripherals, you spot the crosswalk sign turned from bright ruby to white. Your body propelled you forward like the city goers around you, but Peter’s grasp slacked you back towards him. Through the dew on your lashes, you detected the lingering from Peter. His deep umber eyes burned a hole through your face and his thumb brushed against your wrist. Shoulders and elbows are scraping at your sides as people make their way across the street, and yet you stayed right where Peter wanted you.

“Everything’s okay with you, huh?” He said with a genuine smile.

“Your camera.” You said, ignoring his question.

“It’s okay.” Peter dipped his head down, water beading off his forehead. His breath was warm against your lips, provoking your naive heart. Any womanly instincts inside of you were muted, the sound of rainfall and your heartbeat deafening. Your consciousness was instructing you to close the gap, but the weight on your chest denied you any movement. You were motionless, unsure of the situation- unsure of Peter. A sliver of air was the partition that separated your collision. The tip of his nose brushed against yours, a drop of rain from his face trailing down to yours.

What was he thinking? Because God knew you thought he had no interest in you, and here he is. Close enough to inhale your oxygen. Was this the depravity of a man? 

Before you knew it, you were tasting bitter coffee and you never favored the dark brew, but easily you wanted more. It was a pair of impulsive and wet lips. A match of shaky hands and twin hearts both racing past ribs cages. If you could, you would stay there forever kissing Peter until your fingers were pruney and ears frozen.

He was the first to pull away. You were worried he was going to apologize and you had to tell him it was okay, again. Instead, he just smiled. You convinced yourself a spark or two wasn’t going to put you in a romantic daze. A kiss in the rain, however, was something you were going to think about for a long time.

Hoping that this time you earn his full and eager attention, you licked the running dew from your bottom lip. “You know… You’re going to get sick.”

He stared at your parted lips just as you craved. “What do you suppose I do about it?” 

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

It was your turn to drag Peter behind as you lead him to your apartment. You felt giddy and full of anticipation. His hands were tender and intertwined with yours as you took the stairway. When you reach the top of the third floor, wetness dripped down to the tiles and he pulled you into his strong arms. His biceps were thicker than you imagined. 

“Third floor, huh?” He let out a deep exhale, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Tired?” You whispered, lacking any appearance of satirizing, but rather with concern.

His lips tugged upwards, a toothy grin presented to you. “Never.”

The palm of his hands reached your jaw, his touch coercing soft whimpers from you. Peter rewarded you with his tongue, gently parting you open. It was a sight to see him transform. The detached and reserved Peter was now hungry and almost animalistic for you. You were grinding into each other like the push and pull of the ocean. Salt on his neck, wetness pooling at your panties. You haven’t even made it to your apartment yet. 

His strong grasp took you aback. Forceful hands gripping onto your belt loops, beckoning you near to his core. A thick bulge pressed to your lower abdomen, butterflies sprouting at the touch. Your nails dug into his chest fervently before taking a bunch of his hoodie into your clutch. This act of desperation from you urged a groan out from him. Low and reverberating. 

Just a simple proposition was all that it took to rile him up. To you, the obvious solution to avoid getting sick was to remove any wet clothes- and that was all of them at this point. Peter liked that idea. The way his eyes burned into your clothed figure told you that he liked that idea a lot and wasn’t opposed to undressing. Whatever happened after the discarding of clothes was up to his own volition. If you didn't feel chemistry with him an hour ago, you definitely felt it now as his eyes were unwavering from your body. And it was the most apparent when your shaky hands shamefully struggled to enter your apartment key into the hole and behind you, Peter held you gingerly at the sides, whispering, good girl when you finally managed to open your door. 

Maybe, it was just human nature. Whether you had chemistry together or it was just your instincts to survive and reproduce. You didn’t care either way. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Peter was slipping your damp cardigan down to expose your shoulder and pressing a tender-hearted kiss at the peak. You let it fall to the floor, a dull splat echoing as the open air sends goosebumps along your body. Peter's eyes gaped at your chest, your nipples becoming apparent past the sheer top. He wanted them in his mouth and you wanted to watch him suck on them.

You continued to take turns peeling off a drenched article one by one. You were both presenting your bodies to each other. Slowly taking the view in. Preparing for one another’s offering. In one easy motion, Peter threw his shirt over his head to reveal a toned and ripped chest. With his chiseled abs and ravenous eyes, you felt your heartbeat skip like a flat stone against a still river. Just as you were about to pull your underwear down, Peter stopped you.

“Not yet,” he said, pressing his hand against your cheek. He was kissing you again, taking your pride with it. You felt touch starved. Frantic hands grasped onto his muscular physique as if there was no time to memorize each piece of him. He was reluctant to give you pieces of himself, but his body, he gave you effortlessly. You were grateful.

He took a deep inhale into your shoulder, taking in your intoxicating aroma. The way he adored your body was harmful. You could feel yourself wanting more of him and his touch. You were stumbling over each other’s feet, ready to devour one another. Wants were swimming in Peters's head. He wanted to touch you. Wanted to kiss you. Wanted to fuck you upright and horizontally and any other way he could find. Want, want, want. He wanted you. He hoped his tongue conveyed that to you as he licked the nape of your neck.

His hands started at the small of your back. Like molasses, they slowly dripped down your body, a palm finding its way to your thighs. His touch was soft, barely there. Moving up and down on your inner thigh, sending you rushes of pleasure.

The air was filled with arousal. You were trembling as Peter’s hand slithered down your abdomen to the waistband of your panties. Your breath hitched as he put pressure on your clit. His fingers weren’t moving and it made your pussy throb with need. You took matters into your own hands and started rubbing your wet slit onto his hand like a toy. Your hips circled against his pressure.

“So wet for me,” his voice sent electricity down to your cunt. Desperate whines escaped your lips, turning Peter into something of a sex-crazed lunatic. Fucks alluded from his mouth, a mantra for himself to keep his cool. The sight of your bare breast slightly bouncing as you shifted your clit against him made him want to go ballistic. He could barely contain himself, but neither could you.

“Please,” you mewled. “I need your fingers in me.”

“Fuck.” His voice warmed the tips of your ears.

“Please, Peter.” 

“Beg for it.”

“Your fingers in me. I need them so bad,” Your bare chest was moving up and down from the pleasure. Peter couldn’t take his eyes off you, your hips moving against his still hand. “Please.”

His mouth became agape, watching you like prey, just before slipping in his thick middle finger. It went in seamlessly like he has fingered you a million times. Peter’s thumb made its way to your clit and applied the lightest pressure while moving his finger in and out of you. He could feel you tremble against his touch.

Peter’s fingers felt so good. You wondered how his cock would feel. “You’re so wet, Y/N.”

“You make me wet, Peter.” He’s fingerfucking you in your living room. You didn’t even make it to the bedroom, let alone the couch. You were both too consumed in pleasure to lay down nor sit down. You imagined that it was the way you were now addicted to his approval. If he wasn’t smiling at you, then you weren’t satisfied. He was a man with needs. There wasn’t more than that you presumed. It was okay because you were a woman with needs.

“Can’t wait any longer,” he said, pulling his finger out of you. Peter reached for the thin fabric on your hips and undressed you. His boxers were still on, his bulge thick. He was at your feet now and admiring your figure. Admiring your bare cunt.

You suddenly felt shy. Like you forgot how the two of you got into this situation as if it wasn’t your idea. You watched Peter, waiting for his next move. He pressed a soft kiss to your clit before standing up. “Lay down for me.”

For me, he said! The butterflies were surely tossing in your belly. He was taking off his boxers, and a perfect pink cock sprung out. It was hard not to lick your lips, eager for what was to come. With that length, his wish was your command. 

Now, naked on the couch, you were waiting for him. You were ready for this enigma of a man with an incredible body. As he came closer to the couch, he stroked his cock slowly. You watched his hand move up and down. It felt like he was teasing you.

He finally mounted you, his cock resting on your stomach. You could feel the precum leaking onto your skin. You could feel his breath on your cheek. You could feel everything at that moment. Your heartbeat. Your anxiety. The sweat on your temple.

He rubbed his thumb along your forehead, swiping away runaway tendrils of hair. You gave him a nervous closed-mouth smile. He gave you a half smile back, but his chocolate eyes assured you of his enthusiasm. 

His free hand grabbed his cock to guide it into you. Your lack of patience caused you to take it upon yourself to help him. You grasped the back of his hand that held his cock and ushered it closer to your needy pussy. His wet tip grazed against your slit. With his large length in mind, you spread your labia taut while your legs are splayed across the couch. The embarrassment of your need was clear on your face. You couldn’t even be bothered with protection! It had barely reached your mind, but your pussy was aching so desperately for Peter.

You moved your hips up and down against his smooth tip to cover in your wetness. His lips huffed out warm air on your ear. A slight shiver ran down your back as you could feel him press himself deeper. You arched your back, your body confused by this foreign gift. With this new opening, Peter let his hand grasp onto your lower back to help him bring you closer. His cock wasn’t even all the way in and your cunt was aching already.

He was so gracious to let you get used to his cock, pausing any further movement in entering you. His tongue gently played with yours. The taste of coffee was still there. On his lips, on his teeth, and on his tongue. It reminded you of the coffee shop where you had nothing to talk about with him, where chemistry was unfamiliar to you two. And now with rain dew turning into sweat and pheromones, the tip of his cock was making your pussy throb.

“You didn’t tell me you were so big,” you laughed nervously, hiding your face with his shoulder. He ran his hand through your hair tenderly. Almost too tenderly.

“You’re such a good girl. I didn’t think I would need to warn you,” he said. He wanted you to melt into nothing. Melt into his touch. Melt into his words. “I’ll go slow.”

Following a deep inhale, you shook your head. You whispered, “You can do whatever you want with me. I am a good girl.”

A soft laugh escaped from him before eagerly entering into you fully. You were biting your bottom lip at the filling sensation. The pleasure of his cock was encapsulating and overwhelming. 

“Fuck,” Peter grunted. You found yourself whimpering with each thrust. Despite your words and the fire in his eyes, he moved gently. You could feel yourself getting more and more acclimated to his cock, your wetness overflowing.

“You feel so good on my cock,” Peter moaned, his hips circling and hands wandering. You were tangled in his limbs. Your nails gripped onto his back for support. It reminded him of how much power he had over you. How easily he could break you. You wanted to encapsulate this memory into a shoe box of mementos and photographs. Being fucked by Peter was pure heaven.

The room was filled with his grunts and your moans. Your own control of your body was escaping you. Heat buzzed along your belly and your face until he took his cock out of you. A whine immediately left your lips. He was depriving you of the one thing you needed.

“Do you want it?” He breathed out. 

“God. Yes, Peter. I want it,” you were practically begging for him to put it back in. Instead, he latched onto your nipple, sending shivers across your neck. “Peter, please.”

Your slit felt empty and dripping in your own juices. You reached down to grasp onto his thick member but he grabs your wrists, placing them above your head. He was sucking on your nipple while his other hand pumped himself.

He was taking you for everything that you were. Your face was red with embarrassment, but your pussy twitched with need and you needed his cock. 

“I want your cock in me,” you panted, hips trying to catch him. Without noticing it, he was edging you. Brought you to euphoria just to interrupt your almost-firing nerves.

He continued to ignore you, his hands pumping his cock and his teeth rubbing against your sensitive breast. Any longer and you would be bruised with his mark.

“I want to make a mess on your cock.” You let out shamelessly, but fully breathless.

The satisfaction was written all over his face with eyes of fire. “God. If you wanted that, you should’ve just said that,” he grunted and rewarded you with his member. He entered you all at once, pushing his full length into you.

“Fuck!” You gasped.

Your blood rushed towards your core, muscles contracting around his warming cock. The pace naturally started to speed up, being thrusted by Peter had you moaning with no self control. His groans were jagged and loud. His passion was overwhelming. In place of rain, your skin was now drenched in sex and sweat. 

Your core started to clench as he pumped himself into you. Your nails gnawed at his rigid back. “I’m going to cum,” you whined.

Instead of continuing his pace, he got off of you. To feel his cock slide completely out of you left you speechless. You were gasping at the near ecstasy you were about to achieve. It felt so far away. He pissed you off.

Your back sank into the couch as his weight left you. Before reacting, you watched him as your pussy pulsed at the emptiness he left you.

He sat down, leaning his back on the couch. He patted his thigh, coaxing you.

“Cum all over this dick,” he said definitively before letting his head hang back. He knew the power he had. He knew you would listen to him. He was completely right. There was nothing you wanted more than to orgasm all on his cock.

You climbed on top of him, your hands resting on his shoulders. You could feel the presence of his cock beneath you. His shaded stare ate you up. He kept up a stoic face, almost like he was challenging you.

You watched his face as you lowered your body down on his cock, engulfing his tip only. 

“Good girl,” he whispered. Those words had you in a trance. His approval meant everything to you at the moment, but the stolen orgasm was still simmering in your belly. 

You licked your lips. You didn’t feel like a good girl right now. You wanted him to be a good boy.

You started to bounce up and down on his tip, ensuring to never let more than his tip in you. All the while you continued to study his face. He challenged you. He didn’t know this, but you don’t like to lose.

You didn’t let any of your control slip. Your face was rid of any excessive euphoria.   

He licked his lips, a small gesture of pleasure taking over him. You smiled tenderly at him as you slowed your hip movement. You glided on his tip, taking your precious time. You coated him generously with your wetness. This change of pace had his eyebrows furrowing together. 

“Fucking tease,” Peter said. His hands grasped onto your hips and with slight pressure, he attempted to bring you down on his cock.

A soft laugh came from your lips. You bowed your head down so that your lips were against his. You bit his bottom lip before dipping your tongue into his mouth.

“Be a good boy,” you warned him.

Once more, he laid his head back and watched you through hooded eyes. This time, instead of a challenge, his eyes said he was giving you all the power to use his cock.

“I’ll be good,” he licked his lips. 

You held his head between your breast. The soft aroma of his evergreen shampoo filled the atmosphere. Your nose snuggled his forest of hair. You let out a pleased moan shifting your hips slightly. “Good.”

Calculated and deliberate, you let your weight guide you down on him, his length filling you up more and more. The penetration felt so warm and comforting, sliding up and down on his cock felt just right. His face was smothered by your breast, his lips stuck to your flesh.

If you were more grounded, you would hear the pitter-patter of the rain on concrete and ceilings or notice how drastically dark it got in your apartment or how your soaking clothes were spread across the floor. But you hadn’t noticed any of this. You were too consumed with Peter’s moans, and the sound of Peter’s cock hammering into you, and the way you felt hot all over.

Before you knew it, words spewed out of your mouth. “Please cum in me, Peter.”

“You didn’t cum yet,” he said between kisses on your neck.

“I’m about to,” you mewled, your fingernails sinking into his skin

“You are?” he said with begging eyes.

“Please cum with me, Peter,” you managed to get out.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you tightly. He started to thrust into you and use you like his very own sex toy. You couldn’t contain your voice. Your screams echoed in the apartment. With your fingers, you rubbed your clit gently as Peter penetrated you repeatedly.

“I’m going to cum on your cock!” you gasped.

Your fingers glided over your clit feverishly until you could feel the contractions in your stomach. You were moaning desperately at the long-awaited bliss.

You had came, but Peter was still hammering himself into you. Your pussy was throbbing with overstimulation. “Fuck, Peter. This is too much,” you cried out.

His pace persisted, and his grasp on you was resolute. 

“Peter!” Tears were coming to your eyes. Your nails were drawing blood and yet he continued. You were overwhelmed with pleasure. “Fuck!”

“I’m cumming!” He grunted, his thrusts turning slow and meaningful. You could feel his cum warm your belly up. His movement came to a stop and you laid your body onto him. Your body was slack. Tired. Your voice was hoarse. You could feel his cum overflow in you. Pitter patters of rain were gone.

“Good girl, Y/N,” he whispered.

> chapter two

a/n: hope everyone enjoyed it! i have loved fanfic since i was in middle school and that was a very very long time ago. :0 this is my first published fan fiction and i would appreciate all of the interaction i can get! 

xoxo scorpio mommy

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Car, Confession and a kiss

Cricket Pate x fem!reader

warning : flirting, fluff, kissing

Summary : A sweet mechanic and a young teacher for orphans two humans that needed just one glance at eachother and their hearts were beating the same. So what if they just needed a little push in the right direction to finally talk...or have more?

Info : So I did it finally worte for sweet boy Cricket after watching this amazing movie a few weeks ago with my parents actualy and he was my fav. So everyone have fun reading and maybe we can get the movie and it's character back to life

(gif from @scuddish )

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since the spiritual one had started with the Bondurant brothers, she knew that he was watching her. That the cross that lay on her chest moved with every step she took as she helped Maggie wipe the tables, even if the younger one was more of a teacher of mathematics. Because it had called for a job, why not help out in a pub with a new home?

But this young man was only a year younger than her. The warm smile, the tangled blond-brown hair, the thin yet somehow slightly starchy body peeking out of the car. How did it come about that the sinful noises could no longer be ignored? Her fingers closed around the cross as her own thoughts wandered.

Thoughts that were full of darkness and yet, ,,Oh Lord you have given body and soul not to sin and yet it is hard," she murmured the prayer as she thought back to her time in the convent, sent to this part of America where alcohol still flowed with criminals. But it was all the same because she helped the children, the brothers with the higher wages and helped where she could.

Living in a small town was something she had always wanted. Until she met the mechanic, moonshine brewer and technician Cricket on the ground. The sweet, somewhat shy young man was a good boy, she realized, who would do something to a fly.

,,Good day Ma'm welcome," he had greeted her, shaking her hand gently and making a surprised noise as the oil on his hand wetted hers. ,,Wait, sorry-I'm...wait," he had stammered as he had picked up a rag and soaked her hands. It was a sweet encounter that made the younger brother smile and the rest of the family shake their heads. But she had only taken a liking to this boy, perhaps a little too much.

But at night, when everyone was asleep, she had written assignments for the children for the next morning, made the final calculations for the illegal sale of her home-brewed spirits, slipped out of her dress, the soft fabric of her nightgown clinging to her body, and lay down in bed. When she heard him, she knew that even though he was far away from everyone, she could still hear him near the kettles and the cars.

His breathing slowly quickened, the panting from his lips but sin wra as she imagined it. Imagining his hair only more tangled, his head tucked into the pillow to block out the noise, his hands on his own body. It was a thought that aroused her own body, something she wanted to leave behind. So why not try to convert him into a devotee?

The morning then came across the farm, the saloon, the pub and the cars with the drivers, who were still burning the moonshine. It was the moment she came to him with her book, ,,Hello Cricket, tell me...would you like to look over the children's chores?" she asked him as she stood leaning against the barn.

The dark dress on her hung over the white undergarment, even though it was older and still relatively white, giving her body a certain amount of grace. Saw how he hadn't heard her looking up from the automobile which was old but still worked thanks to him.

The shirt hanging on him looked almost too tight, but the smile and the bright eyes. "Just sweet...like an angel, she thought and felt herself tightening her grip on the tasks. ,,Morning Ma'm, if you like I'd be happy to look over it" he replied, taking a few last steps before he came over to her and the two of them went into the parlor where Maggie was making some pancakes, the redhead a silent observer.

She sat down next to him and saw in the mirror that he was watching her as she took two drinks from Maggie.

His bright eyes wandered over her body with a slight smirk as if he was watching a kiss. ,,A beauty like from a museum in New York or something," she had heard him say once when he came home drunk with Jack.

At first she thought he meant someone else, but the way he described her, it could only be her, couldn't it? ,,Thanks," he mumbled, taking a sip before his eyes turned from her to the paper, recounting the numbers, and even though she knew she hadn't made a mistake, she needed an excuse to be with him.

He mumbled something to himself from time to time as if he were calculating aloud, his fingers playing with the pencil and he smiled at her, she realized it would only take a few minutes. ,,And how is it?" she asked, leaning a little towards him felt how her upper body lay lightly on his arm.

Felt his tension as he pointed to the individual tasks. ,,Well...I think it's good to give the smarty-pants a couple of tasks and the rest should be fine," he replied with a smile as she saw his pretty blue eyes dart from her own to her lips to the cross hanging between her breasts. ,,Thank you Cricket that makes me feel better" she replied giving him a sweet smile that made him blush.

But before silence fell between them, they both flinched as Maggie said from the table, ,,Cricket, take our dear teacher to the children's home in the city so you can see that the car works," she said, placing one of the glasses in the rack with the curtain hanging in the room and Cricket grinned broadly as his companion could barely hide her beating heart.

He rose hastily and reached her the paper, his hand going to hers in a gesture they had only touched a few times before.

But his warmth, that euphoria he had, made her smile, ,,Come on, you'll like it, we're as quick as lightning!" Cricket called and Maggie grinned as she saw the younger one rush out of the parlor, his limp on the wood making different sounds than his footsteps as he said, ,,Wait here, I'll fetch the car" and he disappeared into the barn to fetch the vehicle.

She looked at her hand and saw the light oil stain and felt the warmth, ,,You don't know how cute you are," she murmured and knew that Maggie knew. The two women had met several times at night to drink and talk about the things you couldn't talk about with men.

The sound of the engine pulled her out of her thoughts as he honked and she hurried over to him, sat down in the driver's seat, closed the small door and with a ,,Let's go!" he drove her out of the yard and onto the road leading to the city.

The scenery around her was beautiful, the wide open spaces, the trees hanging in the valley and even though it was a little bumpy, it was smooth as she watched Crickte. The wind that came through the slightly open windows played with his tangled hair.

There was a smile on his lips as he tested his overworking fast run fast ride. ,,That's unbelievable!" she exclaimed as he held her work pressed against him and couldn't help but laugh with him as it almost seemed to become a race. ,,I know we're going so damn fast!" he shouted and she could already see the city at the end of the road, it hadn't even been ten minutes and yet maybe that was the future the world had. Automobiles, fast automobiles.

But what did she know, she had more important things at the moment when Cricket stopped in front of the children's home, ,,Thank you, I'll be right back," and she gratefully put her hand on his and felt the tingling sensation before she got out of the car and went into the house.

She didn't see his cheeks turn pink and he mumbled ,,For you always" as he waited, did some shopping, looked at things in the stores and watched the car. Inside, she gave the children their assignments minutes passed and gave the teachers some more feedback, but her thoughts kept going back to Cricket. When she returned to the children and the others, she took some colorful pictures and went out with a loving look.

,,Seems like it was successful," he said, pointing at the colorful pictures but had turned away from her, ,,Yes All good?" she replied and put the leaves in the car as she walked over to him and saw something colorful behind his back. He turned to her and she suddenly saw a bunch of flowers that he was holding in his hands.

,,Cricket, I-" she began, wanting to say something, but afraid, but why? That he had heard her own sin? That he was lovingly asking her to leave? ,,No I-I would like to say something...or no I" he stammered a little but gently pressed the colorful flowers into her hand this time without oil stains as he usually kept his hands clean as he gently placed one of them on her shoulder.

,,I'd like to take you on a date...well, dinner tonight," he added, pointing to the dinner that was in the small town. She didn't know it was a complete luxury but the meat with the steamed vegetables was incredible. ,,Cricket I don't know-," she started again and smiled when he interrupted her nervously but she let him do it and reached for his hand.

,,Please, I've wanted it all the time and I don't know if you feel the same way," he continued to talk fast before she pulled him close and interrupted his talk with a kiss before he choked on his own breath. ,,I feel the same, believe me...I've felt it since the first time we met," she murmured to him as she broke away and kissed his pink cheeks again to reassure him, which made him nervous.

When wasn't it around her sweet little nervous cricket. He took her hand and led her to the door of the car, bowing playfully as he said, ,,Ma'm please," and held the door open for her. ,,Please accepted my dear" she replied and waited for him to start the car and feel her back.

The way back went all the quicker, her hand resting on his grin and he gave her a little kiss on the finger again and again. ,,Such a chameur," she murmured as they arrived back at the yard and she could see Maggie at the window watching them with a knowing smile. Cricket opened her door, let her out at the parlor and drove the car into the barn.

,,Oh and Cricket tonight...those lovely noises can you play them again?" she asked and gave him a wink he now knew she had heard him before he suddenly walked past her and with a ,,If you play with me" answered her and with a wink disappeared into the sound leaving his darling behind with a proud grin.

My sweet Cricket must have come out of his shell she thought and looked back at the colorful flowers in her hand before she also went back to her room and got ready for an evening no, a date with Cricket Pate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maybe you like it/wanna give it a read or just talk about him ? Is the Fandom even alive?

@somethingbitchyythiswaycomes , @starlightiing , @straysugzhpe

[supercap2319]

Y/N: *Walks up to Harry Osborn’s prison cell* “Naughty, naughty. Someone still hasn't learned to play nice. I’d give you a time-out, except you've already been put in one.”

Harry: *Smiles* “Well, well, well... Y/N L/N. How on earth did such a mild-mannered, reporter like yourself get clearance to visit a deadly catch like me? Well, I used to be deadly. I confess recently I've mended my mischievous ways. Haven't you heard?”

Y/N: *Scoffs* “You can pretend all you like, but I know that you've been collecting an evil posse of pen pals with handles like "The Vulture" and "Doctor Octopus" to do your dirty work on the outside. What I haven't figured out, if that's the case ... why are you still playing telephone from this lovely day spa?”

Harry: “People tend to underestimate you when they think they're in control. The guards give me certain liberties. *Holds up a cell phone*

Y/N: *Snatches the phone away from him* “Sorry. Your calling plan has been revoked. And I should warn you that Spider-Man is well aware of the little present you planted on the people of New York.”

Harry: *Looks down at Y/N finger and sees a wedding band on it as his smile grows wider* “Looks like the web-head has given you a sparkly token of his affection.”

Y/N: “My love life has nothing to do with Spider-Man.”

Harry: “Really?”

Y/N: “Mm-hmm. Really.”

Harry: “Then you may not have heard of Spider-Man's first love. She was willing to sacrifice everything for her wall crawling beau. Even her life. How heartbreaking. The tragic tale of one Gwen Stacey... and Peter Parker.”

Y/N: *Tries not to looked shocked* “Oh. I don't know what's in the water you've been drinking... but you are lost at sea if you think Peter Parker is connected to Spider-Man.”

Harry: “You've got quite the poker face, Mr. Y/N. And I certainly hope you're right... because at this very moment, my team of villains are closing in on Spider-Man. What a shame it would be for the blushing husband to be wearing a black veil on his special day... unless... ”

Y/N: “What’s your game, Osborn?”

Harry: “You give me the phone back... and wear this... stylish steel accessory. *Holds up little ear device* “They'll abort their mission, and you'll save your fiancé's life.”

Y/N: *Cautiously* “How do I know I can trust you?”

Harry: “Why wouldn’t I follow my own rules?”

Y/N: *Sighs* “Fine. Call off your attack dogs.” *Puts the device on as it takes over his mind*

Harry: *Smiles wickedly* “Oh. And don't worry. I will keep our agreement... and call off the minions, but... I think I'll send you instead. Kill Spider-Man.”

[theaawalker]

His Little Lamb [ HARRY OSBORN ]

chapter II. friends

Pairing: Harry Osborn x Demetra Jones Series: 0 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 Song Inspo: Perfect by One Direction Word Count: 1,001 Summary: Demetria Jones is your classic model citizen. Smart, helpful, organized, sophisticated, and above all innocent. But that changes when she gets a new boss, Harry Osborn. She's not looking for trouble, but that might be what she's in for. Unless, maybe, she can change Harry... that is, if he doesn't change her first. Warnings: mentions of workplace abuse, forced proximity Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)

I did as Harry... I mean... Mr. Osborn requested and documented every file on the list. I hadn't seen him since his departure at the board meeting yesterday. Nevertheless, I wanted to make sure I actually did my job. So I stopped by his office and dropped off said paperwork. Much to my annoyance, he wasn't in there. It was his second day as CEO of OsCorp and he hadn't even bothered to show up.

        This was gonna be a long day.

        I marched out of his office to the elevators and began to dial Menken. He was in charge whenever Norman was gone, which usually meant an occurrence of verbal harassment for me. I knew with Harry's absence I couldn't get any work done because I had no further orders. I considered following my usual orders, but those existed under Norman Osborn's authority. Now that his son was in charge, I had no sense of direction. Which was ironically proven when I then bumped into one of the elevator doors.

        I pushed the bottom button and put the phone to my ear. As I waited for the doors to open, I listened to my phone ring before going to voicemail. So I hung up and proceeded to dial again as the doors finally opened and I boarded. Once again it rang and there was no answer. I groaned, removing the phone from my ear. Then suddenly...

        "Hi again!" Said a voice from behind me, making me jump. I covered my mouth mid-scream and quickly spun around to see the source. Low and behold, it was Harry Osborn. "I'm sorry." We both apologized.

        "I didn't mean to scare you." He spoke first, extending his hand to me worrisomely.

        "No, no. It's fine." I gasped as I clutched my heart. "My fault. I didn't see you."

        He watched me catch my breath, his eyes a sparkly turquoise from the luminous rooms behind the elevator glass. "I'm... I'm Harry Osborn." He introduced himself, putting a hand on his chest. 

        "Yeah, I know who you are." I cleared my throat, my voice now professional. "I was in the board meeting."

        "That's right, you were the one I promoted." Harry beamed as he recalled the memory.

        I chuckled. "Oh, yeah. Like you were serious." I waved him off.

        "Actually, yes." He stated rather authentically. I stared at his face and sure enough it read seriousness. And here I was trying to get ahold of Menken because I thought he was still my superior. Harry must've seen the shock in my face because he began to smirk. I suppose he was amused by the impact of his own power.

        "What's your name again?" He asked, nodding to me.

        "Demetria. Demetria Jones." I lifted my head as I reintroduced myself.

        "Demetria..." My name flew out of his mouth with an unnecessary softness. Harry tilted his head and bit his lower lip, still smirking. I gulped as I stared at its pinkness under his teeth, not sure what else to do. "Tell me, Demetria." He continued. "What's a little lamb like you doing in a wolf den like OsCorp."

        I'd be lying if I said I wasn't intimidated by the question. But.. did he seriously just call me a 'little lamb'?

        "Uhhh, well, for one, I enjoy my work here. I was a huge fan of your father's. I can appreciate a business that's working to make the world a better place. And, uh, I good salary never hurt anyone." I joked, shrugging.

        Harry just stood there and listened, not uttering a word. And once I was done, he nodded. "So you were a fan of my father? Well, that makes one of us." I couldn't tell if he was joking or not, so I didn't say anything. For a moment, both of us were silent.

        Then Harry leaned off the wall and stepped towards me. We were now standing face-to-face a foot apart. He wasn't that much taller than me, perhaps an inch or two. However, height-wise our eyes actually aligned perfectly. That being said, I still felt his presence hovering over me. "Since I'm your boss now, we should keep in contact." He gestured to my phone.

        I could feel his warm breath on me as he spoke, and I wondered if he could feel mine. "Um, sure." I responded before punching in his number as he recited it to me. Once he was done, I hit save to make it official.

        "I look forward to working you, Demetria." Harry said, making my fingers freeze. I gazed away from my screen and looked at him. I wasn't sure if he had gotten closer, but it certainly felt like he did. He wore a blank expression with his mouth hanging slightly agape. His marble eyes stared into mine, and mine into his. Neither one of us said anything, which was strangely comforting. We stayed like that for what seemed like awhile.

        Suddenly, the elevator dinged and the doors opened, making us break eye contact. In an instant, what was once comfortable had now become awkward. We exchanged embarrassed glances as Harry slowly backed up and I gathered myself to leave. "Nice seeing you, Mr. Osborn." I gave an awkward smile and stepped out.

        "Call me Harry." He raised an eyebrow, smirking suggestively. "We're friends now, aren't we?" 

        Then, as if on cue, the doors closed, leaving me completely stunned and confused. I wasn't quite sure of what had just happened, but I didn't have time to process it because my phone started to ring. Without reading the ID, thoughtlessly I answered it. 

        "Hello? Who is this?" Menken huffed into the phone.

        "...Demetria Jones," I replied, my eyes glued to the elevator.

        "Oh." He groaned before pausing. "...Well, what do you want?"

        With a big smile and a bolt of realization, I told him exactly what I wanted. "Kiss my *ss!"

• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •

If you enjoyed this imagine :

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[sijssjsbssjsnsnnskbskwns]

(Dane Dehaan)Harry Osborn X Reader idea’s

Harry Osborn X Russian!Reader

Harry Osborn X British!Reader

Harry Osborn X Experiment!Reader (like El form stranger things, you do speak broken English because the lab didnt teach you anything. When he went to electro for help. He Needed you to)

Harry Osborn X Demon!Reader

Harry Osborn X Succubus!Reader

Harry Osborn X Vampire!Reader (inspired by Abigail form Abigail 2024)

Harry Osborn X Pre-teen! Werewolf!Reader

Harry Osborn X Siren!Reader

Harry Osborn X Mermaid!Reader

Harry Osborn X Blind!Reader (Inspired by Toph beifong from avatar: the last airbender)

Harry Osborn X Parker!Reader

Harry Osborn X Ashnikko!Reader

Harry Osborn X Artist!Reader

Harry Osborn X Flirty!Reader

Harry Osborn X Wife!Reader

Harry Osborn X Pregnant!Reader

Harry Osborn X Ahmanet!Reader

Harry Osborn. X Girlfriend!Reader

Harry Osborn X Maleficent!Reader

Harry Osborn X Mean!Reader

Harry Osborn X libra!Reader

Harry Osborn X librarian!Reader

Harry Osborn X Crazy!Reader

Harry Osborn X Yandere!Reader

Harry Osborn X Big Sister!Reader (your little bit older than harrry)

Harry Osborn X Egyptian goddess!Reader

Harry Osborn X Daki!Reader

Harry Osborn X Cruella!Reader (inspired by Cruella 2021)

Harry Osborn X Na’vi!Reader

[dellabearry]

OKAY HEAR ME OUT. HEAR ME OUT. dane dehaan ᵖʳᵒᵇᵃᵇˡʸ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵏⁱˡˡ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵈᵃʳˡⁱⁿᵍˢ as kaz if kaz had blonde hair. YOU CANT TELL ME HE DOESNT FIT KAZ. YOU CANT. CHANGE MY MIND I DARE YOU.

[spider-stark]

I will not lie. I eat up all the tasm harry first specially a lil dark soo maybe a yandere or obsessive harry osborn x MC/reader( I love dark stuff but only in ff or non reality, I strongly stand against it in real life. In case anyone think I have lost it or something) ff. U are not alone being crazy over tasm harry, I and a lot more are with you😂. Love your work. Please do it if you have time. Lots of ❤️

anon.. i think i might be in love with you <3

i also love some dark fan fiction, alright? so you and i are 100% on the same page with this. i would be happy to write some yandere harry osborn for you!! I've already got a few ideas for some obsessive harry works that I've been messing around with, but if you have anything specific you wanna see or any ideas that you want brought to life then please don't hesitate to message me!

I always wanna talk about harry lmao

[imagine--if]

Okay but after watching TASM 2 I am severely tempted to write some stuff for Harry Osborn because

BECAUSE

(EDIT: Here's one I've just done 😁)

[fcknstar]

Heyy how are you? I hope you're good!🤍

Can you write something about major valerian? It can be a headconnon

Thank youu love

hihi! im good, not entirely excited for sch LMAO and thank you for asking!! i hope you're doing well too!

,, with you "

valerian x reader ( headcanons )

a.n : i might actually go and write more about valerian because of the amount of gifs unused. and thank you vv much for requesting darling!!

warnings : nsfw has a few mentions of sex , MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

**lowercase intended**

sfw : 

hes a vv charming guy

you did like valerian, well after he risked his life for you. 

valerian knows you like him, he was just able to sense it. 

valerian would definitely act oblivious and continuously tease you until you blush. 

when you do blush, he would most definitely hold your face and laugh, " aww youre blushinggg " which he will meet with a smack on the head. 

valerian secretly likes you calling him " val, major " 

ngl i feel like he would serve you food in bed if you both get together

he is 100% down for cuddles, him being the big spoon ofcourse. but for a change, hes willing to be the small spoon. 

if he goes on a mission and pass by the plaza, he would get something for you and makes sure it is perfect. 

acts of service, affection and words of affirmation 24/7

i know for a fact that he'll hug you from behind!!

hes not into pda but will definitely worship you when its just you both

nsfw : 

hes a love maker. 

he will check in on you every now and then

wears protection

vv gentlemen-y like

hes big into aftercare, he will prepare you a bathe, will clean you definitely. 

he likes it when you take control

LMAO HES A DEFINITE SWITCH

likes it when you call him " major " 

he will constantly press kisses onto you while fucking you deep

[valentinetypewriter]

Me and My Husband

This includes casting, chapter masterlist and summary

Sirius Black x Remus lupin x reader

My Main masterlist

this will also be posted on ao3 - a link to the fic

Chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6

Summary

Sirius Black III the usually flirtatious boy had become completely infatuated with someone he knew he could never have, but tied to someone he never thought he could love.

Remus john lupin the self hating Werewolf who doesn't believe he's worth loving, but his heart aches for two people who he thinks he doesn't deserve

Y/n l/n has hated love ever since she was young, a pure-blood family like hers doesn't get love, they only have to keep their blood pure. But maybe she could make something good out of this

Set during the marauders 7th year and onwards, canon divergent, just changing a few things up to make the fic work a bit better. This fic will be filled with unnecessary angst and drama because I'm a horrible person

Casting

Casting will include movies/shows for a more specific look for major character

Ben Barnes as Sirius Black (Dorian grey)

Andrew Garfield as Remus lupin (Never let me go) and yes this is exactly how I imagine remus to act/talk - A link for a YouTube video since clips of his character are hard to find

Aaron Taylor Johnson as James Potter (kick-ass / Nowhere boy)

Dane dehaan as Peter pettigrew (Kill your darlings)

Timothée Chalamet as Regulus Black

David Tennant as Barty Crouch Jr

Maxence Danet-Fauvel as Evan Rosier

Supporting cast

Sophie skelton as Lily Evans

Alicia Vikander as Marlene McKinnon

Sofia Bryant as Mary McDonald

Louis Garrel as Severus Snape

[sugarbell]

From the Batfam x Neglected Batsis Reader Universe.

Read First!

Age List:

Alfred: Undying

Bruce Wayne: 45

Barbara Gordon: 26

Dick Grayson: 24

Harry Osborn: 24

Jason Todd: 22 (he’s been drinking for way longer)

Tim Drake: 20

Stephanie Brown: 20

Cass Cain: 19

Lana Lang: 17-18

Damian Wayne: 16.

Clearups: This may become a yandere/dark fic story in the future, and it may not, I’m not sure yet.

The However be warned, this fic may possibly contain the following:

Yandere

Gore

Noncon

Dubcon

Death

Blood

Murder

Suicide

Stepcest

Smut

Underage Drinking

Underage Romantic Relationships With Adult Characters

-a lot more I can’t think of right now, but if any of this stuff deters you than you might wanna just skip this story. For those of you who it doesn’t deter, and if this is your kind of thing then please enjoy!-

(Also no, mc is not actually Lana Lang from the DC Comics, but I did use her name because I thought it was ✨pretty✨)

Also, mc is Japanese-American. She has a white mom, and a Japanese father. She has freckles, long dark hair, a petite and short build, medium-small sized breasts, pinkish-red lips, and slender doe eyes. If it bothers you than again, you might want to skip this story.

Harry Osborn, let’s just say him and OsCorp are in DC in Gotham instead if Marvel, okay?

Cast List?

Alfred: Michael Gough

Bruce Wayne: Christian Bale

Eleanor Joy-Lang: Adelaide Kane

Barbara Gordon: Megan West

Dick Grayson: Steven R, McQueen

Jason Todd: Jacob Elordi

Harry Osborn: Dane Dehaan

Tim Drake: Timothee Chalamet

Stephanie Brown: Chloe Grace Moretz

Lana Lang: ???

Damian Wayne: Aidan Gallagher

Also, I will die with my grammatical errors. Some I may correct if I find the time, but a lot I probably won’t because I’m too busy writing.

This page will update regularly, and you can use it as a sort of reference guide just to make sure that you don’t get confused with certain characters, (for instance, Harry) that may belong in other universes but are being moved here. Some characters hero names may be changed in order to fit the story.

(For example, Black Canary. Just for the sake of the story, I’m changing her hero name to “Songbird.” In this universe, it always has been, always will be. Reason for this is because reader’s hero name will be Red Canary, however, reader isn’t Black Canary’s protégé or anything. They may know each other later on, they may not.)

—I think that’s about it! Enjoy!—

[vesselslut]

One more secret won't hurt / Bunny x reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Notes: I saw a fancasting on pinterest and they put Dane Dehaan as Bunny, and like... yeah.

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

Chapter 4: Critters on my mind

The Sunday hike lifts my spirits after the overwhelming Saturday I had. After Judy left, and with half a bottle of wine inside of me, I was able to sit down at my desk and get some work done before going to bed. The Frankenstein essay remains unfinished (unstarted if I’m being honest), but that one’s due in a couple weeks so I’m not too worried.

I decide to take one of the southern trails that goes behind the dorms. It covers a few miles of woods, then goes down a steep slope, leading to a small creek, then back up to come out near the cafeteria in the eastern side of campus. I take my camera with me in case I run into any critters. I like decorating my walls with photos of my little findings. My favorites are the frogs and newts near the water. But with the temperature going down a few degrees every week into autumn, I don’t expect to find many down by the creek.

Despite my efforts to focus on the hike and the beauty of nature surrounding me, I still find myself going back time and time again to wondering about the Greek club. Were they all really as awful as Judy said? Not that I don’t trust her, but actors can be a bit dramatic, specially when trying to prove a point. Do classics majors have a dress code? Maybe they just enjoy dressing like pretentious dorks. They look good though. I look like I belong in the woods, living under a toadstool. ‘Cottagecore’ some might call it. Though it’s not so different from what Camilla and Charles were wearing.

I photograph a few moths I find perched on tree trunks. I think I see a snake, slithering away under a bunch of dry leaves, but it’s gone before I can even point my camera at it. I wonder if Bunny likes critters too, being nicknamed after one. I wonder if he likes hiking. I wonder why I keep wondering about all these irrelevant things. I scold myself every single time my mind wanders back to the mysterious boy.

I eventually reach the end of the trail and spot the cafeteria in the distance. From there, it’s another 20-minute walk across campus to my room. I don’t feel like interacting with anyone, so I lock the door once I’m inside my room and spend the rest of the day listening to music and rearranging my critter photos to accommodate the new ones on the wall. Hopefully the new week will go more smoothly. Maybe going to classes will help push the Greek club away.

Thankfully it does work. With each passing day, I find myself spending less and less time thinking about them. It also helps that they seriously disappear inside the green building all day long, and campus is big, so I don’t see any of them around. I go to my classes, do my reading, hang out with Judy, and avoid her friends at my usual spots. The routine resets my brain into its normal settings. However, as Saturday approaches again, I notice I’m more eager than usual to go down to the library. There’s no guarantee they’ll even be there again. But the hope that they might carries me seamlessly to the end of the week.

I walk into the library, shaking with anticipation, and to my delight, I immediately spot them sitting at the same table, Bunny happily chatting away in a similar volume as the last time. I can feel my brain chemistry rearranging itself and wonder if I should start taking some meds after all.