Featured song: The Troubles – U2 ft Lykke Li / Desire – Years & Years

I do not own Spider-Man, The Amazing Spider-Man 2 movie, or anything related to the Marvel franchise and all that jazz!

WARNING: Mature content ahead! NSFW! Rated M for a reason! Wonderful time ahead… you guys have been waiting for this, I hope I can deliver! (Please don't report me!)

Another two weeks went by with Harry spending more and more time locked up in his office at OsCorp. Even though they now lived together, Hayley barely saw him. And when she did see him, he was in another world entirely.

Harry's nightmares and sleepwalking were getting progressively worse, as was the property damage in his home. He had smashed practically every mirror he could find, even going as far as discovering a compact mirror in Hayley's purse and destroying it into tiny twinkling pieces. Locking the bathroom door at night was the only way to preserve the mirrors within it. Even if he couldn't get hold of a mirror, Harry would still find ways to see his reflection during one of his sleepwalking episodes. Hayley would often find him bent over the large granite table or standing at the tall windows in the lounge area. His purpose was always the same; to look upon his reflection and recite the same three lines.

Those sentences about being a shadow in the dark and spiralling downward were now so engraved into Hayley's mind that she often found herself repeating them. She had researched their possible meaning, where they could have come from, why Harry might be saying them, if they were a famous quote. But no matter how much she searched, she always came up blank. The words meant nothing outside of Harry and herself.

The constant nightly episodes were causing her to loose sleep and it was starting to affect her work. She had all but abandoned her therapy sessions with Harry, and even though her daily vital checks continued, it almost felt useless since she made up most of the entries. The medical checks had gone from thrice daily to now once a day. Hayley was only able to corner Harry at OsCorp, since their mornings were always rushed due to lack of sleep and in the evenings he was never around.

OsCorp was Harry's number one priority. He would arrive back at the manor around nine in the evening, having stayed late to comb through all of the files on the memory cube his father had bestowed him. And once he was home Harry fell asleep on his favourite couch, smelling of whisky, unable to keep open his bloodshot eyes caused by continually staring at computer screens and reflective surfaces. The comfy sofa was his new bed, not having slept in his own for almost as long as he'd been reinstated as CEO. This meant that the only real time he spent with Hayley was twenty minutes at work during his vitals check, or at night when she found him sleepwalking.

She couldn't even begin to count how many times she awoke to his screams. Sometimes it was as bad as four times in one night. The sleep deprivation was affecting Hayley so badly that she began taking her sleeping pills again. Her recreational drug abuse had momentarily stopped towards the end of Harry's stay in Ravencroft. Hayley's mind had been more focused on him and his immediate future, than her flame filled past. No more PTSD nightmares and insomnia meant no immediate need to pop pills. Sure, she still occasionally had bad dreams about Kinsey's attack and flashes of her identified mugger, but now it was Harry's nightmares that were keeping her up at night, not her own.

During the day he was full of bravado and wore the mask of a prestigious CEO.

Not at night.

It was only at night that Hayley saw the real Harry; at night she saw traces of the man she loved.

There were three stages of his sleepwalking episodes. The initial stage was when Harry blankly recited the three mysterious lines, his state almost catatonic, like someone had stolen his soul. Then the Goblin would appear smashing his reflection, muttering about monsters and yelling for "Ginge." And finally there was just Harry, awake, lost and confused, screaming with raw emotion for her to make sense of the nightly chaos.

At first, Harry welcomed her attention when she rushed to him, responding with urgency to every scream. However, after five days he started to brush off her caring attention, preferring to suffer in silence than accept her help. Hayley would go to him every time he screamed, no matter how much he rebuffed her care - she would never give up regardless of his denial. Something was wrong with him, that much she could see, and it scared her that there was nothing she could possibly do to help him.

The only thing keeping her sane was meeting up with Peter. They hung out at Gwen's grave, chatting about their memories of her, about nonsense. About anything but Harry.

No one noticed her absence, especially not Harry. None of her work colleagues at the lab commented on her leaving early or taking long lunches. They assumed she was with Harry gathering important data. Bodyguards James and Pete only took her to OsCorp in the morning, shielding her from the few hungry reporters who were still stationed outside. The two men both presumed that she went home every night with Harry when the reporters had disappeared. And Harry was too wrapped up in OsCorp business to really acknowledge her existence. No one realised that she took the subway home every day. No one knew that she would sneak through a fire escape or ground floor toilet window when she wanted to meet Peter Parker.

And today, she was running late for their Friday afternoon catch up.

Hayley had left work early to do a bit of light shopping before stopping by the cemetery. She was becoming sick and tired of being invisible to Harry and really wanted to do something to lessen his stress and make him feel better.

"Sorry! Subway was hectic."

"What's in the bags?" Peter asked casually as Hayley sat down beside him on the cool ground, mimicking his position by hugging her knees to her chest. He pulled down the hood of the blood red hoody he was wearing to look at her.

"Clothes."

Peter picked up one of the bags and glanced inside at the cosmetics and a green sparkly dress. "Since when do you care about your appearance? Not that, er, that you don't always look nice, it's just, you know, you always wear baggy stuff," he said hurriedly, gesturing to her stonewash jeans and oversized black blouse, "I figured you weren't fussed about things like that."

"I'm not," Hayley sighed, fiddling with her plaited ponytail, "I'm just sick of seeing my face in the papers wearing the same stuff."

"True."

"Thanks, thanks a lot Parker," she replied sarcastically, giving him a playful shove.

Peter grinned at her and gave her a little push back, before his eyes narrowed and he studied her face, "You look different today."

"I think we just established that I wear the same clothes all the time."

Spinning on his bum, Peter turned to face the redhead. "No, I mean your face and your hair," he commented awkwardly, leaning forward and flicking her ponytail in a judgemental manner. There was nothing sexual in his action, just pure observation.

All the same, Hayley quickly took back her hair and flipped it over her shoulder, "My hair is in a plait and I'm wearing lipstick, is that a crime?"

"No," Peter muttered scratching his head, as he ducked his head avoiding eye contact, "But your broken fingers are."

"This again? Really? I told you that they were shut – "

"Shut in a door, yeah? You're not fooling anyone with that story Carmichael, not even the doctors," Peter exclaimed in frustration, tearing up the grass surrounding him. "I spoke to my Aunt. She said that your fractures are not consistent with a door slam. More like a twist and yank. And, you had abnormal bruising on – "

"What are you, a freaking cop? A private investigator? I don't have to answer to anyone, especially you!" Hayley snapped, glaring at him, and she folded her arms in her lap, trying to conceal her bandaged fingers.

"You know you look like crap right?" he retorted simply, "Behind the lipstick and fancy hair, your face is tired and worn. You can't cover up exhaustion! Just like you can't cover up abuse with a mahogany door."

"That's it! I've had it with you Parker, I cannot stand this constant bickering!" Hayley shrieked jumping to her feet. She placed a hand on the gravestone before them, "I'm sorry Gwen, I've tried to be patient and reasonable, but he just won't stop!"

Grabbing her shopping, Hayley stalked away, weaving in and out of the many headstones. She made sure not to step on any flowers or burial mounds even though her anger was making her speed walk like a maniac. All she needed to do was get to the exit gates before Peter caught up to her. Even without stopping to look behind, the heavy rhythmic footfalls she could hear told her that he was indeed following her. He was so persistent in his hatred for her relationship with Harry, that he was now chasing her. Hayley couldn't quite believe that their friendship had come to this.

When the cemetery gates came into view she broke into a small run, her mind solely focused on reaching them.

"Hayley! Come back!"

"Go away Peter! I am si – AH!"

In her haste she didn't see a crumbled ground level headstone. Her foot caught on the deteriorated rock tripping over it with her arms flailing and bags flying. Another much larger tombstone in the row behind loomed into view before her emerald eyes. Hayley scrunched them closed, ready for her head to smack against the rock hard stone. A small scream escaped her lips as she felt the rough stone surface brush over her forehead.

Except, that's all it did, just simply skim across her head seconds before something grabbed her arm. Hayley sailed backwards, away from the threatening gravestones and into Peter's steady arms. He grasped her waist whilst his other hand held onto her three shopping bags, all their contents still neatly inside.

How did he catch up to me so fast? I swear he wasn't close enough to grab me! Hayley wondered briefly.

"Are you alright?"

"Shit, yeah, thanks," Hayley wheezed, her breaths coming out in short rapid bursts. She shrugged off Peter's grasp and stumbled out of his arms. "Bags please," she demanded quietly, holding out her hand expectantly.

Peter passed the redhead her shopping." You've got a small graze on your head," he observed and scratched his own head sheepishly, "Sorry I couldn't, you know, catch you in time – "

"Don't be ridiculous Parker, a small graze is nothing."

"You might want to cover it up with some of your new makeup."

"Why?" she asked slowly, "In case he finds out about our little meetings?"

"No. We wouldn't want people to think that Harry did it…unlike your fingers,"

Throwing her hands up on anger, Hayley stormed over to the gates, all the while shouting at him as he followed closely behind. "For fuck sake! You just don't want anyone to happy do you? You would rather bring me down to your level and wallow in depression with you!"

"I'm trying to save – "

"No! No you are not!"

"But he abuses – "

"No he doesn't! He is nothing but kind to me."

"Your fingers say different."

"My fingers were an accident!" she screeched stopping in her tracks and turning to face Peter, "If Spider-Man hadn't been swinging around acting like he owned fucking Manhattan, then my fingers would not be broken!"

"Spider-Man?" Peter questioned, all the annoyance in his voice melting away. He stood and shuffled his feet, shoving his hands into his hoody pockets, suddenly anxious at what she might say next.

"Yes! Spider-Man has everything to do with Harry's aggression, everything to do with why he broke my fingers again!"

"Hang on, he broke them once before?" he asked disbelievingly.

"I'm done, Peter. This, our friendship, is over!"

Hayley made to move away and out the cast iron gates that stood sentry to the graveyard. She had barely stepped onto the sidewalk when she felt a hand grasp her wrist. With all her might she tried to resist Peter's robust hold, however her strength was measly in comparison; he only held onto the redhead to prevent her from walking away.

"Peter. Let. Go. Of. Me!" she demanded, her seething eyes meeting his brown ones full of concern.

"I'm only trying to help you," Peter reasoned quietly, trying to not bring attention to their little tiff from passers-by. "Gwen would want – "

"Gwen would want me to be happy. She would want you to be happy, for us to move on!" Hayley implored, "I've moved on, now you should to."

Mustering her strength, she yanked her arm one final time, stumbling a little when Peter released her. They stared at one another, both knowing that this argument would be the final one they would have. Nothing could repair this rift in their friendship. The only way they would be able to remain friends was if Hayley removed Harry Osborn from her life. It was the one sacrifice that she was unwilling to make. So she offered Peter one last sad smile, and she walked away from the one lingering connection she had to Gwen.

Peter knew that the only thing that could change Hayley's mind was if he told her the truth.

"Hey, Hayley."

She stopped but didn't turn around.

"Can you still handle it?"

Hayley clenched her jaw and ground her teeth. Lifting up her good hand, she curled down all her fingers except the middle one. She heard him sigh at her immature swearing, so she put her arm down and walked away from Peter and the cemetery.

That tiny nagging voice was growing louder, its disagreeing point of view throwing doubt as to whether she really could handle it.

The subway had remained busy; the hordes of people had not lessened from when she rode it earlier. Hayley's journey home from the cemetery had taken a good thirty minutes longer than usual.

The penthouse was dark when she returned to Osborn Manor in the early evening. There were no lights on, but what little light there was came from the blue glow of dusk shining through the tall windows. The living area looked very ominous, especially with the window silhouettes ghosting over the furniture and floor.

Hayley didn't feel scared or nervous by such a gloomy setup. Her mind was focused on putting away her new purchases and maybe changing into her new sparkly green dress for when Harry arrived home later. She mentally went through a checklist of food that she wanted to ask Connolly to prepare for them both. Maybe strawberries, chocolate…

"Where have you been?"

Hayley froze as a velvety yet accusatory voice caressed her ears. She spun round to see Harry leaning against the granite table behind her, a sneaky grin befitting the Cheshire cat upon his suspicious face. He was wearing casual clothes, a black t-shirt and his skinny jeans, which suggested that he'd been back long enough to change out of his work clothes.

She could have sworn he hadn't been there a few seconds ago.

"Harry! Wha-what are you doing here?" she babbled, glancing down to the marble floor and licking her lips nervously.

Turning his head to the side, Harry observed her obvious signs of anxiety, his eyes raking up and down her body. "I live here, don't I?" he responded simply.

"I mean…I thought…you aren't at work?"

"Well, I thought I might surprise you and take you out to dinner," he explained. His face changed to that of controlled anger as he closed the small gap between them, "I go to collect you from the labs, and wouldn't you know, you weren't there." Harry placed his hands on the blue chair behind Hayley, trapping her against it, "So I'll ask you again, where have you been Hayley?"

"I went shopping," she explained in a small voice, still not quite able to meet his intense and critical gaze. She jerked her head in the direction of the grey couch on her right, gesturing to where she'd dumped her bags.

Harry's eyes flicked from her face to her purchases and back again. "I can see that," he said steadily, "Why?"

"I wanted to buy you a present."

Immediately Harry's face softened, her answer not one he'd anticipated. "You bought me something?" he asked, his voice faltering, almost like he couldn't quite believe it.

"Of course!" Hayley smiled, her guard dropping when his arms fell limply from the chair.

Reaching for his hand, she gently pulled him over to the couch. His skin felt so warm against her fingers and she couldn't help but slightly caress his hand with her thumb. It had been awhile since she'd touched him other than during his vitals check. She tried to remember the last time they'd actually spent any quality time together. Her bright smile faltered when Hayley quickly realised that he'd broken her fingers the last time they'd been together like this.

Instead of dwelling on that memory, she sat on the couch and busied herself by picking up a black cardboard bag and removing its neatly gift-wrapped contents.

"Here," she said shyly, placing her gift into Harry's lap, "This is for you."

Harry stared at her in astonishment at being given an actual gift. He'd never had the need for presents since he was so rich and could buy everything he ever wanted at the drop of a hat. Even on his birthday, he'd rarely received a present from his father, discounting that bottle of Scotch sent by Norman's assistant.

So instead of unwrapping it like a normal person, Harry continued to stare at the redhead. Her eyes glanced down to the unopened gift and she began to bite her lip nervously. Harry wanted nothing more than to bite her rouged lips himself, but he still had her present in his lap and she was looking at him expectantly. He flipped his bangs off his face and started to remove the paper surrounding his gift.

Inside the packaging was a black and grey pinstripe cashmere scarf.

Harry tentatively ran his shaking fingers over the soft material, as if to somehow validate in his mind that this was real. The fact that his hands were trembling irked him greatly. Another special moment ruined by the Osborn family curse.

"I wanted to give you something to show how much I appreciate you letting me live with you," Hayley whispered, her green eyes fixed on his face, trying to gauge his reaction. "You've done so much for me Harry, and I thought…I don't know. It's just that I only ever see you wear one scarf," she explained, "You probably have others – "

"No. I don't."

Their eyes met. She could tell instantly how much this small gesture meant to him.

"Here, let me."

Gently, Hayley unwound the paisley scarf from his neck and placed it on the coffee table. Then she picked up the cashmere scarf, her gift, and pulled it loosely round his shoulders. Her hands ended up flat against his chest, her thumbs stroking the soft woollen fabric. Hayley glanced up to see his piercing eyes searching her face, seemingly scrutinising every part of her like he hadn't seen her in months. And truthfully, it had been nearly three weeks since they had been intimately close to one another. She could practically feel his breath ghosting over her face. It was such a rush to suddenly be on the end of such an intense stare, and Hayley could feel her chest redden beneath her blouse.

His hand suddenly cupped her face, holding her in place, whilst a finger rubbed over her bottom lip. "You're wearing lipstick," he commented, no inclination in his voice to suggest whether he liked it or not.

"Yes," she breathed, her tongue unconsciously licking her lip where his finger had been mere seconds before.

"And perfume?"

"Yes."

"You smell like raspberries," Harry remarked, his other hand lifting up her roughly plaited hair to inhale more of the alluring scent. "Why are you doing all this?"

"I wanted to look nice for you," Hayley murmured, her voice trembling and her cheeks blushing as she steeled herself to look him dead in the eye, "I want you to want me."

"Oh, I've never stopped wanting you, Hayley," smirked Harry, his eyes twinkling in dark excitement at the possible prospect of what her statement implied.

"Prove it."

Immediately Harry tightened his grip on her face and pulled her into an earth-shattering kiss. She squeaked in surprise at such an aggressive reaction but then a soft moan escaped her lips, and they both knew that his harsh touch excited her. So he wrapped his arm around her waist, hoisting her slight body to straddle his, like they had done previously when Fiers interrupted them. But there was no one to interrupt them now. They wanted each other and there would be no more compromises.

Hayley returned his kiss with just as much heated vigour and moved her body up and down, trying to find the perfect angle to keep his lips upon hers. It felt like she wasn't in control of herself; the way she shimmied and swayed, movements that were unconscious felt so right. Her hands instinctually scrunched up in his t-shirt, her sharp nails causing Harry to hiss and bite her lip in retaliation. And when she moaned, he absorbed the sound with his tongue, all the hairs on his neck standing erect like the fire burning in his groin.

He had never seen such hunger and confidence in the little redhead. It was intoxicating and Harry wanted more. All the frustration that had built over nearly eight months of knowing each other was brimming to the surface. His eyes shifted between icy blue and violent green until they merged together to create a uniquely coloured pupil all of its own.

And when her nervous hands wrapped themselves in his new scarf and pulled his body closer, Harry growled in response, truly marvelled by her boldness. He couldn't let her have all the control. She was too innocent, and he had many a trick up his sleeve.

The arm he had draped around her back dropped lower to grab hold of her ass. He pulled her even closer against him so that her chest was flush with his, her head slightly above his eye level. The smooth column of her neck was bare before his lips. He dared a glance at her face to see her panting with desire but her eyes gave away her nervousness. Harry maintained eye contact, slowly poking out his tongue to lick her rouged neck.

The action caused her to moan and push her body upwards in the direction of his licking motion. Harry's grip on her ass tightened painfully, locking her down into the position he preferred. His other hand fixed itself in the strands of her hair and he tugged her head back and away from him. Hayley pouted in annoyance but could do nothing to change it. Harry sat up, his lips playfully nuzzling her throat as he shifted to sit on the very each of the couch with Hayley still straddling his hips.

She tried to move her head forward towards him but he gripped her plaited ponytail and corrected her position to expose her neck again. He continued to kiss, lick and nibble, working his way down to her skinny collar bones. All Hayley could do was cling to his back and neck, twisting her fingers in frustration around the short brown strands of his hair.

"I want you, Harry Osborn," she breathed desperately, "I want you in every way possible."

Harry paused his torturous lips on her neck. "Are you sure?"

Feeling his hold on her hair slacken, Hayley stopped staring at the ceiling and brought her head down so she could face him. Even in the gloomy room she could see that he still feared rejection.

"Yes! What kind of question is that?"

"I don't want you to make a heated mistake."

"Harry, you are not a mistake. You could never be a mistake," she assured kissing his lips chastely, "My only mistake is not having done this sooner."

The fear instantly disappeared from his face and Harry smirked widely, a hint of darkness flashing behind his eyes.

Suddenly the hand that was twisted in her hair fell to her waist, both his palms gripped her bum and he stood up, holding Hayley close. She wrapped her legs around him and dug her heels into his lower back

"Wait! Where are we going?" she asked, her hands clinging to his neck, fearful that he might drop her – though she weighed too little for that to ever happen.

"I'm not going to have sex with you on the couch, Hayley! Please, I have some class!" he tutted. Harry shook his head at her and rolled his eyes in mock reprimand, his beaming smirk giving away his intoxicated bliss.

She giggled like a shy schoolgirl, and pushed the bangs from his predatory eyes. "Ever the gentleman, Mr Osborn?"

"Of course! I am a billionaire and CEO of my own company you know," he chuckled, adjusting his hold on her as he began to walk away from the grey sofa.

"Oh really?" Hayley played along, She watched the living area get further and further away as they entered the bedroom, "I bet you say that to all the girls."

"Only one," Harry smirked, and he squeezed her hips hard enough to leave bruises, "A redhead, if you must know."

"Really? Does this redhead happen to have her legs wrapped around your waist right now?" she teased before shrieking when Harry suddenly dropped her and himself onto his bed without warning.

"No. This redhead happens to be lying on my bed," he corrected, "And I'm going to show her exactly what it's like to be loved by Harry Osborn…and desired by the Goblin."

Hayley sucked in her breath and twisted her fingers in his ruffled hair as her back arched up at such a provocative statement. She wasn't ashamed of her feelings anymore. Whether it was Peter's constant nagging or Harry's absence these past few weeks, she now knew more than ever that she loved him. Her world revolved around Harry, and it had been pure agony becoming so distant from him.

Her hand travelled under his t-shirt, nails scratching at his lower back, her wanting need insistent and demanding. She pushed up the black fabric and Harry stopped stroking her face to lean up and remove his t-shirt. As the cool air hit his naked skin, he realised that he also wanted to feel Hayley's soft body on his. With his disease-ridden shaking hands, he quickly tried to undo the buttons on her shirt.

Unfortunately Harry couldn't unbutton her shirt fast enough for his liking so he pulled the fabric apart, popping the placket open, sending small black buttons flying everywhere. Hayley yelped in shock at the sudden rush of chilled air against her bare stomach and her nipples hardened beneath the soft lace fabric of her jade green bralette. She let out a sensual mewl as Harry placed an explorative hand on her left breast. He could feel her trembling under him.

"Shhh, Hayley, we'll take this slow," he comforted before kissing her on the nose.

She nodded quickly and pushed her body up, her arms reaching behind her back, clipping open the fastenings on her bra. With her fingers she flicked away the lacy undergarment, rolling her hips into him sensually. Then her fingers descended onto his skin, exploring every inch like he was doing to her, now that her bra had vanished.

Even though both of their hands were as equally demanding, they had come to familiarize themselves with each other's "out of bounds" territory. Hayley knew the exact location of each of his bandaged lesions even without having to feel for them. Her hands skated around them, careful not to disturb the infected skin with her stroking and kneading. Whereas Harry gripped her pointy hips, pert bum and shoulders, occasionally running his knuckles along the smooth as glass winged scars on her back. He revelled in the way she shuddered beneath him when he did so.

"I want you, Harry," Hayley murmured in his ear as he kissed the flesh of her neck.

Even though she sounded confident, her voice was quivering in fear of the unknown. They were surpassing their heated interaction in the hotel room at the charity gala - this was new ground for her.

"Patience," he purred, running his hands down her bare sides, resting them on her hips, "You have to play the game before you can reach the bonus round."

Harry unbuttoned her jeans, pulling them down and off her legs along with her panties, grinning when he saw that the green lace matched her discarded bralette. She shimmied further up the bed since they were practically falling off the end. Her heart fluttered wildly beneath her breast, almost not believing that she was in bed with Harry crawling up her body. His hand dipped down between her legs and Hayley's eyes rolled back as he began to do things she'd only read about in books. It didn't take long for her breathing to become elevated, her chest rising up and down as she swayed her hips to meet the ministrations of his fingers.

"I need you now," she insisted, scrabbling to touch every naked part of him, desperate for a release of the unfamiliar tingling fire bubbling up inside of her.

Harry chuckled at her urgency and slowly released his slick fingers from her body. He pushed on the bed and knelt over her, his hands fumbling with the button fly on his jeans and Hayley reached up to help him. Her eyes widened at how hard he was for her, and she bit her lip anxiously as Harry kicked off his jeans and boxers. They were both fully naked, though he had forgot to remove his socks; so hungry was his sexual appetite for her.

"It'll hurt a little," he whispered truthfully, adjusting his position so that he was lying over her.

"I trust you," Hayley nodded and smiled, a face not of fear but acceptance. She was laid naked and unafraid before him, ready to loose her purity to the man she loved.

Slowly, Harry pushed until his length was completely hidden inside her. The sudden pressure made her hiss and she scrunched her eyes closed at the small stinging sensation. It felt slightly uncomfortable yet so right, like they were two puzzle pieces finally joined together

"Psst! Open your eyes Ginge," he whispered, his own sparkling in ecstasy. When she opened them, he cupped her face and reassured her,"Take deep breaths and look at me."

She nodded mutely, and desperately tried to keep eye contact as Harry gradually began to move, sliding in and out at a slow pace.

Everything was full of intensity. The way his green feral eyes bore into hers, making sure she knew exactly how much he needed her and how much he desired her. Even with his bangs disturbing his eye line, Harry never stopped looking at her. It was a very clear message that she was the only one for him, and in that moment, Hayley knew that there would be no other; he had claimed her. And he was hers just as much as she was his.

They were meant for each other.

The only sound either of them made was deep and heavy breathing, as Harry was too afraid to groan out loud in case he let go of his restraint. He continued to rock at a moderate pace, waiting patiently for Hayley to adjust to the new sensations she was feeling.

"Harry," she panted, "I…I…hurry!"

"Only if you say my name," he teased, thinking back to their time in the hotel room. Though he would never admit it, he was glad they didn't take things further – making love in his bed was the perfect way for Hayley to loose her innocence.

"I just did! I can't…I feel…am I enough?"

Harry frowned but kept on moving his hips as hers started to roll with him. "What…what…fuck, Hayley, what are you on about?"

"I…I need to know…am I enough for you?"

Snaking his arm underneath her back, Harry lifted her up and closer to his chest. He groaned as the new angle of her hips made everything that much more pleasurable. And with her little high-pitched squeaks distracting him from answering the question he began to pick up the pace.

"…Am I enough…" she repeated, "…enough for both…both of you?"

"…Fuck, yes! Yes…Hayley…you mean…you mean everything to me, Ginge…"

"I love you," she cried, wrapping her legs around him as something deep inside felt like it was about to explode.

And then, amidst all the heated chaos, Harry gently stroked her face. Her eyes darted back to his, widening in shock as she saw that one of his eyes was blue and the other was green. They were one and the same, Harry and the Goblin, beautifully complicated.

"Hayley," he implored steadily, "I love you too."

And that's when she saw fireworks. The clouds of euphoria rolled in, binding every fibre of her being to Harry Osborn, the man she loved and the Goblin she craved.

He didn't last long after that.

The soft vibration of his cell phone on the mahogany bedside table roused him. Harry shook his sleepy head and eased up into a seated position, brushing away the auburn hair that was tickling his nose. His hand landed on the small head that was laid against his bare chest. He looked down at Hayley sleeping soundly, her body curled up beside him, arm draped over his lower torso.

As slowly as possible, Harry reached for his cell, praying his movement wouldn't wake the slumbering redhead. He blinked at the too bright screen, its white light illuminating the whole room. Harry quickly glanced at Hayley who didn't move or react to the sudden light. Her breathing was deep and steady, her eyes still behind their lids, showing that she was in a deep and dreamless sleep.

Harry unlocked his phone, tracing an "H" symbol passcode with his thumb to gain access. The screen brightened more slightly, and something glinting in his peripheral vision caused him to turn his head to the right. There was a small glass bottle on top of the dresser on Hayley's side of the bed. The glare from his phone screen was making the vial sparkle, the tiny bicoloured tablets inside appearing like harmless candy.

Even from where he sat, Harry could identify the contents. The bottle was labelled with the name "Amitriptyline." He shook his head and tensed his jaw, suddenly angry that she had ingested the sleeping pills without him seeing.

After discovering the cabinet of medication in her apartment, Harry had researched all the drugs and ointments it contained. The creams were for her burn scars, but the many tablets he found concerned him. Amitriptyline was a tricyclic antidepressant prescribed to her for anxiety and insomnia. It was the same drug she had given him in Ravencroft.

Just when he was about to wake her, the forgotten phone in his hand vibrated again. He unlocked the screen once more and opened two identical texts from Kraven.

"Dexter, Emerald" was scrawled across the phone screen.

In this instance he was glad for Hayley's deception – it would make leaving the manor unnoticed in the dead of night that much easier. Confronting her about the pills would have to wait.

The stars where shining outside and the crescent moon paled in comparison to their sparkling wonder. It was a beautiful sight, one made for couples to share and individuals to gaze at in awe.

Only one saw its splendour, his green and blue eyes reflecting an inner soul burning with troubles unknown. If Hayley hadn't taken sleeping pills that night, she would have seen the sight too. But alas, she stayed asleep, her lovers absence going unnoticed…for now at least.

"Have the police find the body," he ordered to the hunter beside him, "I want to send a clear message that no one messes with me and what is mine."

"Your protective instincts served you well. Such rage you displayed. All for the lamb, yes? I'm sure she'll be pleased with his death. Though I doubt police will recognise him," Kraven commented, staring at what remained of the Russian criminal before them.

"The important distinctive features remain; his tattoos and prints. They'll be able to get a match from that."

"You have exceeded expectations. Though your flare for theatrics will not go unnoticed."

"Good. I want her to know it was me."

Since it was a Saturday they had both slept in, only waking around midday for something to eat.

Connolly had laid out brunch for them on the long granite table; various bowls of fruit and cereal decorated its length, with juice, milk, and pastries also available. There was so much food that it was really overwhelming for Hayley, especially since she didn't eat very much. She had grabbed a solitary bowl of cornflakes, hoping that Harry wouldn't notice since he was busy reading yesterday's paper. One of the four TVs was buzzing in the background.

Hayley kept sneaking sideways glances at Harry from across the table. She couldn't contain how happy she was and a funny coy grin was firmly fixed on her face. Though she did frown slightly when the cornflakes on her spoon dropped onto her black Metallica t-shirt; lazy Saturdays meant comfy clothes, her standard skinny jeans and t-shirt get up.

"Did you "walk" last night?" she asked suddenly as Harry put down the day-old Daily Bugle.

"Walk" and "walking" were the words they both used to refer to his nightly sleep adventures.

"Hmmm?"

"I saw some blood in the bathroom this morning, which I cleaned up. Did you cut yourself in the night? The mirrors are still intact - "

"Oh, I just had a nose bleed," Harry replied smoothly, mentally cursing himself for getting a spot of that bastard's blood in his home, defiling his possession. He picked up an apple and took a bite, before his eyes focused on what the redhead was eating. "Hayley, why are you eating dry cornflakes?"

"Because I only drink soy milk and there isn't any on the table."

"Well, did you tell Connolly to get you some?"

"No. But it's ok, I like them dry," she smirked, taking a spoonful of the barren flakes up to her mouth and crunching them extra loud.

"You're impossible sometimes."

"Prove it."

Hayley giggled at the astonished look on his face and she launched some of the flakes at him, using her spoon as a catapult. Then she shrieked with laughter when a croissant suddenly shot past her, narrowly missing her face. She leaped out of her chair and ducked down as a few grapes sailed in her direction, landing on the shiny marble floor.

A banana fell next to her with a thud. The two may be in their early twenties but no one is too old to enjoy a food fight.

"Did you just throw a banana at me Harry Osborn?" Hayley laughed incredulously, picking up the offending fruit and aiming it at his legs from beneath the table.

"You started it!" he yelped. The banana whacked his ankles making him jump, and he darted round to her side of the table.

She quickly grabbed the stray grapes surrounding her, and as soon as Harry came into view she chucked them at him like miniature cannon balls. He swatted the small fruits away easily before playfully grabbing hold of her hands and hauling her up. Then he proceeded to poke her ribs and she squirmed in his arms.

"I was trying to prove that I'm impossible!" Hayley cried, trying to find his ticklish spot, "I surrender! Just stop the tickling!"

"…BREAKING NEWS! The body of wanted man, convicted killer and Russian mob associate, Andrei Kuzmin, has been discovered by NYPD early this morning…"

Hayley stopped struggling as did Harry, both of their attention now fixed firmly on the television screen across the living area.

"…Kuzmin has most recently been sort by police in connection to the mugging and assault on Hayley Carmichael, the girlfriend of OsCorp CEO, Harry Osborn…"

Various pictures of Kuzmin flashed on screen, and Hayley turned her face away, hugging her body closer to Harry's.

"Thank god he's dead," she sobbed into his chest, "I don't want to see his face. Is he gone?"

"…Police are urging anyone who has information regarding Kuzmin's murder to come forward. Captain Sims of the NYPD will release a full statement on the incident later today, amid rumours that Kuzmin was decapitated, with a jack-o'- lantern in place of his head…"

Hayley felt her heart stop and she slowly glanced up at Harry whose face had a sickening smile upon it. The way that he stared triumphantly at Kuzmin's image, made her feel sick. Something wasn't right. She had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach and it wasn't to do with her mugger. It was to do with his pumpkin enthusiast murderer…

"Harry – "

"…scandal surrounding Hayley Carmichael's involvement with the young tycoon has surfaced this morning. Pictures, taken by a reliable source, have emerged showing Carmichael fraternising with an unidentified young male…"

On the television screen the news displayed three grainy images taken with an amateur's camera. Hayley could be seen clearly, her distinctive auburn hair a dead give away. She had her shopping bags in hand, with the graveyard gates serving as her backdrop. The young man had his back to the camera, concealing his identity. All that could be defined was the man's tall and slender frame, ruffled spiked brown hair and a baggy red hoody.

Hayley swallowed as the arms encasing her tightened dangerously to the point of pain. If only she hadn't worn her hair in a plait yesterday. The style was so different from her usual sleek ponytail that Harry was bound to realise the pictures on the news were taken less than twenty hours ago. The photographs revealed where she had been yesterday, why she was late getting back to Osborn Manor, to Harry. They uncovered her secretly meeting another man.

And Harry didn't need to see the man's face to know that it was Peter Parker.

In a flash, he pushed the redhead out of his arms in disgust. Hayley stumbled and slipped on the floor, smacking her back and head against the marble pillar behind her. She shook her head from side to side, trying to make sense of her surroundings as her vision started to swim from dizziness. Then she felt an excruciatingly bruising grip around her dainty neck.

"Did you think I would not find out? Did you? How long has this been going on?" Harry seethed, constricting her airways with his punishing fingers. He could feel her delicate skin breaking beneath his nails, cutting little half moon shapes around her neck.

Hayley tried desperately to suck in much needed air. "Harry, I – "

"How long? How many times have you seen him behind my back?" he demanded, his eyes a milky way of blue and green rage.

"Ha – "

"HOW MANY?"

Harry slackened his hold to allow her to speak, though kept his hand loosely in position. The trembling radiating from her body made him feel powerful and he drank in her fear. His body loomed over her, restraining Hayley with his hand and penetrating stare alone.

"Twice…" she squeaked, "…Twice a week since you've been back at work. I'm so sorry, I was – "

"What? YOU WERE WHAT?" Harry yelled. He pulled her away from the pillar before whacking her head back in anger.

"L-lonely," stuttered Hayley, seeing dark spots in front of her eyes, her body shaking, "I was lonely. You ignored - "

"I'm suddenly not enough for you, is that it? Did last night not mean anything to you?"

"Yes! Yes, it meant everything to me Harry! I love – "

"NO! No, don't say it," Harry enraged, bringing his middle finger up to her lips in silence. He intensified his hold on her neck, hissing at her through his teeth, "You're just like him! You've. Betrayed. ME!"

"No, Harry, please – "

"Let her go Harry!"

Hayley shifted her gaze from Harry's too close face, and fleetingly looked over his shoulder, her eyes widening at the red and blue vigilante standing behind them. Her neck started to burn again and she brought her focus back to the man squeezing her throat. Harry wanted her to acknowledge him and only him, not his archenemy, Spider-Man. He didn't need to turn around. Harry instantly recognised the voice of the man who was standing uninvited in his home.

"This just confirms everything!" Harry laughed manically, shaking his head in disbelief, though his eyes never left the redhead. With a forlorn grin on his face, he mocked his former friend, "You would be here wouldn't you!"

"Let her go Harry!" Spider-Man repeated, slowly inching away from the open window he had come through.

"You should really choose your words more carefully," Harry snarled turning his head to glare at Spider-Man, "But then, we aren't flying over a clock tower so – " he released Hayley who crumpled to the ground breathing heavily. "See? No harm done. Must only be blondes who are weak!"

Spider-Man glared at Harry through the large eyes of his suit, "You take that back, Harry, take it back!"

"There's nothing to take back, she's dead. I didn't do anything – you did."

"That's a lie and you know it!"

"I'm legally a free man! Whereas you are nothing but a vigilante posing a threat to society – "

"If you believe that then you're crazy Harry."

"Crazy? Crazy! No, what's crazy is that you would try and steal what is mine! Yet another betrayal!"

"How can you be so blind? The Harry Osborn I knew – "

"IS DEAD! HE IS DEAD! THERE IS NOTHING LEFT OF HIM!"

"That's not true," Hayley shouted from the ground, making the two men look over at her. She tried to stand, every movement slow and painfully precise, angry purple bruises flowering around her throat. "That's not true Harry – "

"Shut up! You know nothing about me!" he yelled, kicking at her legs so that she fell to the ground once more, "All you know is that psycho-bullshit you make up so you can sleep better at night!" Then he turned to face the man in red and blue, "But Spider-Man, he knows the real me. Am I right?"

Spider-Man shook his head sadly, "I don't know what to believe anymore."

"Why so melancholy? Oh, that's right: I took all your hope away!"

"I can take away yours too, Harry," Spider-Man said simply, glancing over to where Hayley was using the pillar to support herself as she tried to stand again.

In an instant, Harry's face contorted from antagonising anger into pure fear, as he realised what was about to happen. "NO! BRING HER BACK P – "

And the rest of his words were lost as Hayley felt something strange and very strong grab hold of her arm, tugging her very fast in the direction of an open window.

The last thing she saw was Harry's pained face getting smaller and smaller…

She closed her eyes tightly, and she heard yells and birds and cars and air buzzing deafeningly in her ears. There was even a high-pitched scream that she quickly realised was her own. Protective arms were gasping her but she didn't feel safe at all. Her stomach started to churn like she was on a reckless rollercoaster, zooming backwards and forwards, up and down, round and round with no sense of direction. And when she did finally muster the courage to open her eyes, Hayley discovered that she was indeed flying high in the sky, the world an entire blur.

"I thought you said you could handle it!"

"What?" Hayley yelled, unable to hear Spider-Man over the rush of the wind in her ears as they sailed past buildings at break neck speed.

She heard him try a few more times to speak to her but her own screams stifled any conversation. Every time he shot out a new web line, Hayley would shriek that much louder, absolutely terrified at seeing monstrous skyscrapers everywhere she looked. They got dangerously close to many buildings, and Hayley wondered if this was how she was meant to die.

"Please stop! I hate flying! I'm going to be sick!"

After a couple more minutes of nauseous swinging, they swirled to a firm stop on the roof of a building in some random part of New York, Hayley knew not where.

"Where the hell are we? You have to take me back to Harry!"

"I thought you said you could handle it!" Spider-Man yelled, his gloved hands clenching and unclenching in frustration as he paced before her. "But you can't can you? You're just too stubborn to ask for help. He could have killed you – "

"Peter?"

Hayley stared and her mouth went dry as the tall man before her slowly stopped pacing. His shoulders sagged and the spider reached up to his face, removing the red mask. Her emerald eyes widened, the mystery behind the great betrayal finally revealed.

"I'm Spider-Man."

Confession; the sexiness was meant to happen a few chaps back, but I wanted to do something special for the holidays, and chap 25 seemed too perfect not to wait until then!

For you eagle eyed people, yes, it's not a coincidence that chapter 25 has been posted on the 25th (UK time)! This is my Christmas present to you all!

MERRY CHRISTMAS! Happy Holidays, and happy every type of celebrations you may or may not be having today :D

I want to thank each and every one of you for taking your time to read and be on this journey with Harry, Hayley, (and me). I could never have dreamt we'd get this far, seriously, your support has meant the world to me. I am always stunned and amazed by how wonderful you all are - I have a feeling this fic is going to be a long one, I see no end in sight yet!

MUCH LOVE XXX and have a happy New Year! See you in 2015 moose's :D

P.S, Sorry I haven't replied to the reviews from chapter 24 - I will get on it!