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Description: You’re spider-man’s closest thing to a friend since the world forgot his name. Helping him with gadgets, cleaning his wounds…all without him ever taking the mask off. His true identity has always been a barrier between you two, but what happens when he gets hit with the pollen, and not only him, but the creature lurking inside him fixates on the only person he gets to call home?
Tags/warnings: sex pollen smut, fem!reader, porn with plot, whiny desperate peter >>>, dry humping, piv, riding, oral fem!rec, fingering, dark!peter taking over for a bit, orgasm denial, prone bone, so much yearning, mask stays on…or does it?
Note: You have no idea how giddy it makes me to write him again. He had NO business looking that good in the movie so I had to get this out of my system. Enjoy 🤍
Masterlist
You've seen spiderman hurt many times. When you signed the lease of the first apartment you could afford as a recent graduate, you never thought that would become your new normal.
The first time it happened was completely accidental. He’d arrived at the building in the middle of the night, bruised, bleeding and too disoriented to realize that the window he’d come through was not his.
That night, the noise of a heavy body collapsing onto the floor woke you up. For one terrifying moment, you believed someone had broken into your apartment, only to switch on the lamp and find the city’s superhero groaning and pressing his hands to his side. His suit was torn there, and blood soaked through the ruined fabric onto your rug.
He barely lifted his head when he heard you gasp, the lens of his mask focusing on your figure standing there with wide eyes, wearing only an oversized shirt.
“Wrong window,” he choked, then tried to hold himself up but immediately collapsed again. “Dammit,” he cursed, waiting for you to freak out any second now.
You could have, but instead you rushed to him and knelt beside him.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” Your hands hovered helplessly over his body, trying to see how bad the damage was in the dark. “You need a hospital–”
“No!” He snapped, trying to turn away but failing miserably. “I’ll be fine, I heal quickly.”
“You still need to stop the bleeding,” you countered, folding your knees under your body so you could rest on your calves. “Listen, I can help you. I took some medical courses last year and I have a kit somewhere.”
You looked at him with pleading eyes. He’d saved the city so many times, the fucking world, it was the least you could do to give something back.
He considered his options for a second, and to be honest he didn’t have many. His body was betraying him, and he couldn’t even get up to fix it himself like usual.
The blood loss made him nod, and you wasted no time in getting up and finding said kit. The blood loss also made him drift in and out of consciousness as you tended to the wounds on his ribs as much as you could.
It did not make him less cautious of you though. When you noticed the rip on his mask over a nasty gash on his neck and reached for it, his hand closed around your wrist and even half conscious, his grip was strong.
“Please,” he whispered. Pleaded. “Keep it on.”
The fear in his voice made you promise you would. Even if you couldn’t get to that gash properly. Even when he fell asleep on your floor and didn’t wake up for six whole hours.
The next morning, he opened his eyes and found you sitting on your bed, still staring at him.
His hands patted his chest, and confirmed his arachnid powers had done its job and healed him mostly. But most importantly, his mask was still in place. With no warning from E.V of it being removed. He learned that you’d spent the night making sure he was still breathing without seeing his face.
That had been one year ago.
After thanking you profoundly for helping him, he’d repaired your window, apologized several times, and disappeared into the apartment next door. He then considered moving into another building, but the thought was brushed away very quickly when he remembered the balance in his bank account.
So he acted more careful instead. For a while, he only turned back home when your curtains were already closed, or he only left the apartment when you had already left for your job (because yes, he absolutely researched the hell out of you after that night.)
Then he moved to the attic of the building. Bigger space, no neighbors, no risks. No you. Or at least he thought.
Because some nights…some delirious nights he still found your window a few stories down, and the accidental visits became less accidental. When he was too badly injured to care for himself, he came to you, even after you confessed your degree had nothing to do with medicine.
When he noticed you understood about his equipment malfunctioning, he’d bring it for you to inspect. When he became too reckless with himself you talked his ear off about how being difficult to kill did not make him immortal.
Somewhere along the way, you became spiderman’s friend.
Spiderman was safer. With you, spiderman was the only part of him he could let you see. Because that was the thing, you only knew the masked superhero.
He’d spent so much time blocking away his identity, making peace with the fact that there was no longer anyone in the world who would call him Peter and know exactly who that person was. That name only belonged to the people that once knew him, and no longer existed, so he never gave it to you.
Never showed you more than a sliver of skin when his mask rode up or glimpses of his abdomen when you tended to his wounds. He always kept that barrier and you respected it, even on those nights he was too weak to stop you. Even if sometimes not knowing the color of his eyes kept you up at night.
A promise was a promise.
Maybe that’s why he kept coming. Why he trusted you with a certainty he couldn’t understand. Why he eventually showed you his new living quarters in the attic and let you spend time with him. Why half a year ago, he added another chair next to his desk so you could work together, or help him when he was out patrolling and needed an extra set of eyes.
“I’m officially the girl in the chair, spidey,” you joked that time as you sat next to him, spinning around in your chair.
He’d gone quiet immediately, his body tensing up enough to make you frown, but then managed a small smile and said you were. You pretended you didn’t notice him being too quiet as he worked on his inhibitor after that.
He was wearing a hoodie, sweatpants and the mask. Always the mask that didn’t quite let you see through him. After a moment of quiet, you rolled your chair closer to his and nudged his arm playfully.
“You know I can’t keep calling you spidey forever, right?”
He snapped out of his trance, and the chuckle that came from under the fabric was unmistakable.
“Why not?” He nudged your arm back, but still focused on the device he was hunched over. “I like spidey.”
You put your elbow on the desk, resting your cheek on your hand so you could lean a little closer.
“I like it too, but it feels ridiculous after having my hands all over your body almost every night.”
The moment the words left your lips, you realized how bad that sounded. He straightened up, turning toward you.
“Wow.” Even if you couldn’t see the smile on his face, the lenses of his mask were quite expressive sometimes. He was amused.
“That came out very wrong,” you said immediately, before he bursted into laughter. He had been laughing more since you entered his life. “You know what I meant,” you whined, laughing too with heat flooding your cheeks.
“I think I know,” he chuckled, making you roll your eyes.
“I’m being serious though,” you added, a little more quietly. “You don’t have to say your real name. Just give me something.”
“Mmm…” he acted like has considering it, going back to tinkering with the piece of metal between his fingers, but then his eyes drifted to the flowers he’d bought that morning, and the name came out of his lips before he could think twice about it. “You can call me Maynard.”
“Maynard?” You repeated, suppressing a chuckle. “You don’t sound like a Maynard. That’s like an 80 year old man’s name.”
“That’s all I can give you,” he shrugged playfully.
You had a feeling it went deeper than that, but you’d also learned not to push it with him.
“Alright. Maynard,” you nodded, “but don’t expect me to use that name unless you’re dying. Guess I’ll stick to spidey for now,” you chuckled, going back to your own work as he hummed in agreement.
The conversation ended there. With him trying not to think about your hands all over his body in…different conditions.
Peter didn’t know exactly when his gratitude became longing. He could not identify the moment the friendship, the closeness, or just your smile, shifted into something he craved everyday.
Despite the mask and the fake name, he knew that after years of being no one to everyone, he had become someone to you. And you had become everything to him. Even if it was behind walls he’d built, you were the person who knew him better than anyone alive.
Which is why, the night he lost control of himself after an unknown dust was thrown at him in a fight, he chose not to crash land into your room.
Peter hit the floor of the dark attic with a loud thud, as his senses went overboard. His suit was sticking to his body uncomfortably due to the sweat coating his feverish skin. The fabric was intact, with no visible wounds in his body, just that burning sensation of something running through his veins.
And that dark part of him he’d managed to lock down with the inhibitor, trying to claw its way out.
“What the…what the fuck is going on,” he cursed, clutching his heaving chest as he panted against the worn wood floors. “I can’t–I can’t breathe…”
The computer’s monotone voice broke through the silence.
“You have arrived injured. I’m letting her know–”
“NO!” He cut the AI off, “EV, don’t tell her–”
“Message already sent.”
He glanced up at the digital clock on his desk. 2:18 am.
He groaned, grabbing his head when a wave of migraine hit him. He knew what came after that. The black eyes. The desire to break. To take. But this time something felt different. It was like a pull, looking for something or someone…for…for you?
Oh fuck.
You were going to come in and you were going to see him like this. No, no–
“Spidey?” You asked from behind the door, knocking exactly twice before opening it anyways.
The air changed the exact moment you walked in, and that something inside him shifted too. It became aware that the only thing it craved to survive was in the room now.
He needed to get to you. He needed to pin you down and–
“Don’t!” He managed to scream, holding his hand up weakly when you scrambled toward him.
You stopped right in your tracks, eyes wide and running all over him, searching for torn fabric, blood, or anything that would explain why he looked like every breath was painful.
“What happened?” You frowned, when you couldn’t find any source. “Did you get hurt?”
You instinctively stepped forward, but he waved his hand in front of him again.
“Stop, stop, stop,” he said quickly, “don’t come any closer.”
The harshness in his voice caught you off guard, but what sealed the deal was him dragging himself further away from you. It was barely more than a clumsy, desperate crawl, but he managed to put a decent distance between you before collapsing against the side of his thrifted couch.
He avoided looking at you. The oversized shirt covering your body, the comfy shorts you were probably wearing, the way your hair looked messy from rolling out of bed as soon as you got EV’s warning even if you had work the next morning.
You stayed right where you were, watching him. His suit had always fit him like it was painted on his skin, but every pant made his chest rise and fall beneath the fabric so violently that you wouldn’t be surprised if it ripped at the seams.
This reminded you too much of the changes that happened in him months ago.
It started with a sharpened temper, then the heightened sensitivity to everything, the black covering his eyes, and moments during patrol when his reactions became simply frightening for someone who had as much strength as he did. But you were supposed to have stopped it.
“Is it the inhibitor?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest, “is it failing?”
“I–I don’t know…I was hit with some dust out there,” he breathed. “I think it’s tampering with it…my head is killing me. Everything is too much.”
You nodded, turning toward the workstation.
“I will check the programming. Just hold on.” Not your best attempt at reassuring him, but he groaned in acknowledgment.
“EV?”
The computer woke when you touched the keyboard, illuminating the dark attic in a wash of blue light.
“Online.”
“Please run a diagnostic on the inhibitor and any possible interference.”
“Beginning diagnostic.”
You waited impatiently for the results, tapping your fingers on the desk while you watched him from the corner of your eye.
Over there, he…he was doing his best trying to breathe.
This obviously wasn't his first time having sensory overload. When the animal tried to take over the human part of him, everything in the city became impossible to escape. Not a single movement, or sound, or simple existence within miles was unnoticed by him.
But this time? The rest of the city had disappeared. There were no sirens in the distance, or voices coming through the walls, or every heartbeat in the building pounding in his head.
There was only you.
Your rapid heartbeat echoing inside him. He felt every tap of your fingers against the wood, every slight catch in your breathing each time he made another involuntary and pathetic sound from his spot on the floor.
Your scent…God, your scent filled the entire apartment.
The scent he found himself coming back to so often that it scared him. He didn’t want the attachment. The possibility of having someone again only to risk losing them again.
That same scent was making every muscle in his body react in a way he didn’t understand. It made him, and the other him, wanna do things to you he had only dreamed of in his wildest fantasies. Things he wasn’t proud of, things he wouldn’t dare to say out loud, even if he looked at you through the lenses of his mask and you couldn’t see the black in his eyes.
He pressed the back of his head against the couch harshly.
This was wrong. So wrong.
His senses were supposed to consume everything when the change came. Instead, they had fixed themselves entirely on you.
He could feel the heat of your body from across the room as though you were still in front of him. Could remember with sickening detail how soft your hands looked when they reached for him. Could almost feel the burn of the touch that had never landed because he stopped you.
What if he’d let you? What if he’d felt the way your hands ran all over his body? What if you’d moved them lower, and lower, as your mouth–
“Diagnostic complete.”
Your heads snapped toward the screen.
“There’s no external damage affecting the integrity of the device. I detected a foreign biotoxin in the bloodstream that may be bypassing the inhibitor, activating the suppressed arachnid hormones.”
“What biotoxin?” You frowned.
“Unknown. No matches found in available databases.”
Great. He thought. He had no time to take a bath with Yelena Belova to find out what the stupid dust was.
Tiny, microscopic potato, she would say.
The screen changed, displaying a model of his nervous system. There were yellow bright lines pulsing quickly, running all the way from the base of his brain down the length of his spine. Something unknown was moving through his blood, altering the part of him he had spent months forcing into submission.
He sucked in a breath as he watched you read the screen. Your eyes were focused, and a bead of sweat made its way down the side of your forehead.
He suddenly felt the need to lick it off.
Wanted to run his tongue from the base of your neck to the back of your ear. Wanted to fist your hair and make your heart beat out of your chest from how good he knew he could make you feel–
“The effects remain within his enhanced tolerance. However, prolonged exposure to certain hormones can cause extreme distress without relief.”
“What hormones?” Your voice, worried and unknowing of his thoughts only made him feel guiltier.
It took him a second to realize what you asked, but EV threw him under the bus before he could say anything.
“There’s a significant rise in reproductive hormones. The unknown toxin is inducing a strong mating response in him.”
Mating response. He stopped breathing.
Your eyes slowly moved from the monitor to him, and he saw the moment your attention dropped lower to the tent of his pants.
That suit concealed nothing on a good day. On one like this? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck–
He shifted almost immediately, but the movement only worsened the pressure, pulling a helpless groan from his throat that made your pulse jump. You looked away at once, turning back to the computer.
“Is there a way we can…umm…stop it?” You asked hesitantly.
“The subject is experiencing severe sexual arousal with a fixation on a nearby individual,” she explained, because fuck him if he wasn’t the unluckiest individual on earth. “Acting upon it can be a positive option to relieve sexual tension.”
He wished the floor would open beneath him, swallow him, and never ever EVER spit him back out again.
Your pulse was absolutely hammering after that. He caught the sudden change in your scent. There was a sharp spark of surprise, nervousness, and something else beneath it that his altered senses fed on immediately.
You kept your eyes fixed on the monitor, although the data had stopped meaning anything the moment you heard fixation on a nearby individual.
“Is that what you really feel?” You asked softly after a moment.
His head fell forward, catching it between his gloved hands. He didn’t know how to answer without making everything worse.
Although, after what EV said, could it really be worse?
“…Yes.” The word came out rougher than he expected. Yet still not enough for what was happening inside him. “It’s like…I can only feel you. All of you.”
Heat rose to your face once again.
“What does that mean?”
Don’t say anything, don’t–
“I can smell you.” Great start, idiot. He cleared his dry throat before continuing. “I can smell your shampoo…the lotion you use…the ink on your hands from your favorite pen.”
He chose not to mention he could also smell the adrenaline on you. The heat gathering slowly beneath your skin.
Your eyes dropped to your hands, and under the dim light of the computer, you caught the ink stains in them from your journaling session before bed.
“I can hear your heartbeat changing every time I speak,” he added. Okay, that one slipped out.
You swallowed. And god, he felt that in his own throat.
The suit was suffocating him at this point. He wanted to rip it off as much as he wanted to rip off the fabric covering the goosebumps on your skin.
“Is it only because I’m nearby?” You asked, gathering the courage to turn your chair to him.
White lenses met you across the room. He dragged in another shaky breath of oxygen made of you as he thought about his next words. He could’ve lied. He should’ve lied. But instead, chemically overwhelmed and stripped of every defense he possessed, he gave you the truth.
“No.”
His voice was firmer this time. No hesitation in it despite the thousand red alarms pounding in his head telling him to shut up.
“It picked you–no, I picked you for a reason,” he added. “And it’s not just me. The other…the other me wants you too.”
His voice went lower on the last part, that told you how much it cost him to admit that.
The silence following his confession was heavy. For a moment he wished he could read your mind. For all he could feel of you, your thoughts were unreachable.
His own mind was a mess. The impulses didn’t feel like thoughts anymore, just his body feeding him instructions.
Get up. Cross the room. Touch her. Breathe her in.
His palms shook with the urge to close around you. His teeth ached with the need to graze your skin. His eyes burned with the desire to see beyond fabric.
Every part of him seemed convinced that the small distance between you was a mistake he needed to correct. That he needed to breathe you in until his lungs burned. Drag his mouth along the inside of your wrist and taste the pulse there.
He hated it.
He hated that something inside him could look at the person he cared for the most and reduce her to an answer for his pain.
“EV, how long is this state going to last?” He asked the computer, followed by a weak cough as he clutched his side.
“Your enhanced physiology is struggling to break down the toxin’s structure. I estimate a time between ten to twelve hours before it’s metabolized. However, neurological collapse is expected before that timeframe.”
“What?” You looked at him. “There’s no way we’re letting that happen. Maybe I can–”
“Don’t even start,” he cut you off, shaking his head profusely.
“So what? I’m supposed to sit here betting on whether your body collapses on hour three or hour six?”
“I’ll just pass out, big deal. I’m not putting you in danger because of this. I can handle it.”
“You’re barely handling it now. There’s no danger in trying–”
“You don’t understand what’s happening inside me right now,” he argued, raising his voice. “This other thing, the one the inhibitor controls it’s…awake. That part of me doesn’t think like I do. It doesn’t care if you're scared, or hurting–”
“You wouldn’t hurt me–”
“You don’t know that!” He snapped, his fist struck the floor next to him, hard enough to make the worn wood crack beneath his knuckles.
The sudden noise made you flinch. He smelled the flash of fear moving through your body for only a second.
One second enough.
“Fuck–that is what I mean,” he cursed, covering his lenses with his hands. “I don’t…I don’t know if I’d be gentle. I can’t risk this, I can't…shit, I can’t risk you.”
The words, said with so much pain, and honesty, seemed to settle somewhere deep in your chest.
“Okay,” you nodded, settling deeper in your chair. “But I’m not leaving you like this. I can’t risk you either.”
He shuddered a painful exhale. His head dropped to the couch again, shutting his eyes in preparation of what the next hours of torture would be.
Except…he didn’t even last ten minutes.
The suit was killing him, so he decided he’d be better without it. He reached desperately behind his back, clumsily undoing the zippers that tied the suit together.
He could feel your wide eyes on him as he tugged the fabric off his shoulders, peeling it off his sweaty arms. He groaned when he lifted his hips and the suit grazed his swollen crotch. In a matter of seconds that felt like eternity he managed to break free from the spandex, and threw it away somewhere in the room. He’d undressed down to his dark boxers, mask still in place, revealing the marble sculpture of his body.
You let out a shaky breath from your spot, eyes raking over a body you’d only seen partially. He was covered in wounds most of the time, but this time, he only had faint bruises from the night before decorating his chiseled abs.
His tight muscles flexed with every rise of his chest, his bulge straining harder the more you devoured him, pressing against his pants, making him curse quietly.
You noticed, and returned your eyes to the screen to track his vitals.
He felt grateful that you’d given him that grace, but just you being in that room made it very hard for him to think of anything other than your existence.
Too hard.
Before he knew his hand drifted down the growing ache in his crotch, trying to feel some relief, but every rub he made over the fabric of his boxers sent a jolt of pain through his body instead of pleasure.
It only made it worse when he realized you were tense at the desk, trying very hard to keep your focus on the screen and not on the whines he was letting out.
“…I’m sorry,” he apologized instantly, breathlessly, moving his hand away. “I didn’t–”
“Don’t apologize,” you shook your head quickly, eyes still on the screen. “You…you can do whatever you need.”
He didn’t say anything, just whined in pain again, so you took it as a chance to say it before you regretted it.
“But my offer still stands, spidey.”
What a polite way of saying ‘I’d let you fuck me into next week so you can control your horny arachnid hormones, spidey.’
Fucking hell.
“I’m okay I just–God I didn’t–I didn’t think it would feel this way…” He laughed humorlessly, staring at the ceiling. “But I–I got this. Yes.”
You kept quiet, hearing him mumble to himself about a hundred times about how he had this.
“I’m okay…I’m good…it’s fine…”
He wasn’t.
“Fuck I don’t…I’m going to die…”
For God’s sake.
“I think I can help.”
By the time he registered the words and looked back at you, you had already moved from your chair and shortened the distance between you, kneeling in front of him.
His senses went from one thousand to one million. He forced his hands behind his back, trying to keep the animal from grabbing you and getting it over with.
“What–what are you doing?” He stammered nervously, the lenses of his mask going wide.
“Maynard,” you said quietly, ignoring the way his body tensed up at that name. “Would it make you feel better if I put my hand here?”
You placed your hand right in the center of his chest, and your cold palm met his overheated skin. He gasped, feeling every individual fingerprint on his skin. He wanted them marked on him. Tattooed.
His back arched from the couch, with a strangled gasp breaking from beneath the mask. The relief hit him all at once, through a simple contact that felt like salvation.
Your hand steadied him for only a glorious second, but now that you had touched him, his body knew precisely what it had been denied.
It wanted more.
His own hand closed around yours so suddenly that you almost pulled back, but he loosened his grip the instant he realized how tightly he was holding you.
“Sorry–”
“Don’t apologize.” You pressed harder.
He was burning.
The heat beneath your palm scared you, but what scared you more was the violent pounding of his heart beating against your hand so so quickly.
“Better?” You asked quietly, trying not to bite your bottom lip at the image of him crumbling under your palm.
“So fucking better,” he said breathlessly, pressing your hand tighter against his chest. “I…dammit–”
“Breathe,” you reminded.
His head fell back against the couch. Chest rising up and down, up and down, up and down.
Just take her, man, she’s right there–
Your free hand accidentally brushed his neck, right where the border of the mask started, snapping him right back. He grabbed your hand, not harshly, but firm enough to make your breath hitch.
“Please.” Was all he said.
Leave it on.
It brought you back to that first night he’d crashed into your life.
“I wasn’t planning on removing it,” you whispered, leaning closer. “You can keep it on. But let me help you…I really want to.”
See? She wants it. She needs it so bad.
He hated that the other guy was right. He knew you meant what you said because he could smell the proof pooling between your thighs.
Fuck it.
In a sudden movement he reached for your waist, dragging you forward so you were straddling his lap. The bulge you landed on made you gasp, hands instinctively grabbing onto his sweaty biceps for balance when he let out a broken groan that vibrated against your core.
His hand cupped your jaw, bringing it closer to his face, and your dilated pupils reflected on the white of his lenses.
“I can feel that you want this,” he mumbled, tilting his head to the side. “Please, say it again…”
You shifted your hips, barely, so minimal yet he felt it travel through his whole body. He hissed, tightening the grip on your jaw.
“I want this,” you repeated firmly, moving your head closer to his ear. “You can take whatever you need…”
You moved your hips again, more deliberate this time, pulling a broken whine from him. The toxin made every contact feel like electricity racing down his spine, straight to the heavy, aching weight of his cock under you.
“Yes…yeah just like that…” he panted. “Just let me…”
His hands landed on your waist, moving you back and forth at a quicker pace over his bulge. You gasped at the friction, fingers digging into his shoulders, while he let out a collection of muffled words you could barely understand.
“...M–more…” he whined, throwing his head back against the couch. “I can’t–I need…”
“What do you need? More what?”
“More contact.”
His hands left your waist to grab the hem of your shirt.
“Can I?” He whispered.
You nodded eagerly, gasping when his hands shifted to the collar of your shirt instead, ripping it off your body with a sharp pull.
“Oh fuck,” he cursed when he realized there was nothing under that shirt, and saw your nipples hardening instantly under the cold air.
He resisted the urge to bite them through the mask.
His hands, however, wasted no time to cup your breasts with a broken whine. His thumbs played with your nipples, tugging at them as hard as he could allow himself to without hurting you.
“Fuck you’re perfect…you’re so perfect…” he whispered, more to himself than you, pulling some soft whimpers out of you when he tugged a little harder. His hands drifted to your lower half, to the hem of the last piece keeping your body from his greedy eyes. “These too,” he said, “please, can I? I want to feel you.”
“Yes,” you nodded, already out of air.
You didn’t even know why you tried to get off his lap to take the shorts off properly, when he just did the same as the shirt: ripped it in half where it rested on your hips, yanked it off from your body and threw the ruined pieces far away.
You weren’t wearing anything underneath.
“I can smell you. God, I can smell you. You’re so–oh God…”
Now he could feel your wetness drenching his boxers, dripping onto the fabric. He could almost taste it in his mouth. He wanted nothing more than to drown in it for hours.
“Can–can I–?”
You didn’t even let him finish, you grabbed his hand and placed it right between your legs.
Water. He found water in the middle of the dessert.
His hand moved carefully through your wet folds once, twice, delighting in your warmth, the way you felt, the way you let out the prettiest sound he had ever heard in his miserable life.
“Fuck…” you cursed softly, moving your hips eagerly when he kept stroking slow. Too slow. “Touch me, please.”
He obliged, fingers finding your clit in movements that had you gripping his shoulders tighter, eyes fluttering shut so beautifully he had to bite his lip to not let out a pathetic sound.
“Been wanting this,” he mumbled. “Longer than today. Longer than tonight.”
His finger slid inside of you, making you moan when he curled it just right.
“There were…there were nights I thought about you riding my hand,” he kept going, voice cracking as he added a second finger, stretching you more. “I’ve wanted you for so long–not just because of this shit in my blood. Because it’s you.”
Every word made you clench around his fingers. Every admission pulled another shaky moan out of your throat. You were a mess already, breathless, hips rolling down to meet the thrust of his fingers.
“Oh my God–don’t stop, please don’t stop–”
“Not stopping, baby.”
He kept working you open, the white lenses of the mask never leaving your face. His free hand slid up your chest, settling between your breasts.
“I’m–I’m close,” you managed. “I’m so close–”
“Come on…you’re perfect. You’re so fucking perfect like this.”
The heel of his palm lifted to press against your clit. You were right there, right on the edge, about to come on his hand and drip down his boxers–
“Please,” he begged, unable to keep it in. “Let me fuck you after this…please. I need to be inside you. I’ve needed it for so long–just let me, after you come, please, please–”
The plea undid you.
You came with a broken cry, stopping your movements as your walls pulsed around him. The sound you made against his shoulder nearly finished him right there.
It took you a second to just breathe again, your chest synching up with his in the search of oxygen. He kept rocking his hand slowly, not just to work you through the aftershocks, but because the friction of your pussy in his hand brought the tiniest relief to him.
You just stayed there as the last soft waves rolled through you.
Once you were able to see clearly again, you let out a breathless chuckle and straightened back up.
He needed you. He needed you so badly you really thought he was going to die if you didn’t help him.
You placed one hand on his chest as the other reached under you, slipping inside the fabric of his boxers without breaking eye contact.
The second your bare fingers brushed him, his hips jerked hard under you.
“You said please,” you whispered breathlessly.
You wrapped your fingers around him and pulled him free.
His cock sprang out, heavy and flushed between your bodies, so thick and hard and painful. The head was red and shiny, with precum dripping down the vein that ran along his length. The tip brushed the skin of your stomach, leaving a warm, wet patch that made the hair on your arms go up. He could smell the small flicker of intimidation sparking inside you, but the want that followed was stronger.
You stroked him a few times, slowly just as he’d touched you at first.
“Oh my God, your hand–your hand–”
Another thick bead of precum welled up and spilled over your fingers. Whether it was the toxin or just his enhanced physiology, he was dripping for you.
Flustered wasn’t enough of a word when you had his leaking cock in your hand.
His hands slid down to your hips, gripping tighter, guiding you up as if he was about to lift you then pulling you back down immediately.
Fuck her. Fuck her right now.
“Please, I need–I need to feel you…” he cried out. “Let me…let me…”
You nodded just as desperately, lifting yourself up as he helped, steadying you with shaking hands until the thick head of his cock nudged against your entrance. You both exhaled hard at the same time when you started to sink down, taking him inch by inch.
He was big. Almost too much. The burn of it made your breath hitch, but the way he cursed under his breath multiple times, completely at your mercy, made you keep going until he was buried balls deep.
You sat there for a moment, breathing heavily, and so full of him.
When the initial sting faded away, you started moving. He let you set the pace as you adjusted, holding back his need of thrusting up. His fingers dug on your skin, not lifting just holding you, but the more that you moved, the more that control started to waver.
He could feel it coming. The change.
You kept moaning, bouncing on top of him, completely unaware of his self restraint crumbling away.
His grip slowly tightened when his eyes began turning completely black under his mask. That careful, pathetic boy who’d been begging disappeared beneath something more…primal.
Fuck. Whatever had been holding him back finally snapped.
The next thing he knew, his hands slid under your thighs with sudden strength. He lifted you up in one motion until only the thick head of him remained inside you, held you there for a second as the last part of him tried to remember how to be gentle–then snapped his hips up hard.
That first thrust pulled a sharp moan out of you, but there was no chance to adjust this time. He set a relentless pace almost immediately, using pure strength to bounce you on his cock while he drove up to meet every drop of your body, buried so deep it stole your breath every time he bottomed out.
“Oh my–May…Maynard–” the name you barely used on him slipped out in the middle of the frenzy, but his hand reached behind your head to pull your hair back slightly as he kept thrusting up.
“Don’t call me that,” he snapped, his voice so different from just minutes earlier. “It’s Peter. Call me Peter when I’m inside you.”
He didn’t even give you time to process, still lifting and dropping you onto his cock at the exact hard rhythm he wanted. The only one that satisfied the need inside of him. Your hands instinctively reached for the edge of the arm of the couch he was leaning against, fingers digging into the worn fabric as he hit that spot inside you over and over again.
“Of fuck…Peter–fuck…yes…”
“That’s better,” he approved. “I was right, you’re so so perfect…taking every inch like you need it as bad as I do…”
A desperate sound slipped out of you at the praise, he could feel your walls clenching tight around him as your body went for that second orgasm, your eyes were fluttering shut, almost there–
“Nuh–uh,” he denied immediately, stopping mid thrust, holding you pressed against him as you gasped, surprised and confused.
“What–what happened? I was about to–”
“I want you to hold it for me. I know you can.”
That twisted part of him enjoyed the slow realization on your face.
Even if you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew the same spiderman he’d been without the inhibitor, was the one with your body at his mercy now.
Good.
He stayed buried to the hilt for a moment, breathing hard behind the mask. When your breathing finally slowed down and accepted that the high never came, he stood up. Still inside you, he walked you to the bed in the corner of the room.
His bed.
He pulled out with a wet sound that made both of you groan, then laid you down roughly near the edge of the mattress. He kneeled down, strong hands hooking behind your knees and dragging your legs over his shoulders, folding you open for him completely.
“Look at the ceiling,” he ordered. “Don’t look at me.”
You obeyed, staring up at the wood beams high above you while he tugged the bottom of the mask just high enough to free his mouth.
Peter leaned down and pressed a few soft kisses to your swollen folds. He wasn’t necessarily eating you out, just giving a few loud smooches that felt good enough to make you grip the sheets.
“M’sorry, you were so perfect there…” he mumbled condescendingly against your most sensitive spots. “But I need you to hold on a little longer. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”
You nodded, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. Maybe too eager. Maybe too pathetic. Just like he’d been. Had he pumped that toxin into you?
Either way, you didn’t care. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like this version of him.
He laughed right over your clit when you moaned loudly, after he moved his tongue in a slow, torturous swipe over it.
“Was back there too much?” He cooed. “Maybe I just need to stretch you more...”
Two fingers slid inside you, so easily, but the sudden stretch still dragged a whine out of your throat. He curled them immediately, finding the spot that made your hips jerk.
“Peter…”
“Huh?” He acted coy, pumping his fingers with a rhythm that kept you right on the edge without letting you tip over. He added a third finger, making your back arch from the mattress. “Keep holding it in.”
Every shake of your body fed the stupid toxin inside him. Having you like this…really trying to keep your body from coming apart because he said so.
God. He was never going back.
“You just took my cock. I think you can take three fingers with no problem.”
He kept the same relentless pace, chuckling when your body started twitching again.
“Shhh, you’re perfect, absolutely perfect…”
“Peter…” you called out again, hand dropping the sheet to find his shoulder instead. “I need…need…”
“Need what?”
“Need you inside me…please I won’t–I won’t hold for much longer just–fuck me.”
He stopped altogether, a smirk you couldn’t see stretching the corner of his mouth. He pulled his fingers out with a wet pop, licking them clean before tugging his mask back in place and standing up.
“Yeah?”
Your legs dangled off the edge of the bed for a moment before his hands gripped your hips and turned you over. He moved you higher up the bed, grabbing one of the pillows, and shoving it under your hips, tilting your lower body up for him.
He then climbed onto the bed behind you and knelt between your spread thighs, the mattress dipping under his weight as one hand stroked down the length of your spine.
But something made him stop.
“This fucking mask–” he cursed under his breath. “It’s suffocating me.”
The sweat on his forehead had pooled under the mask, making it so sticky over his eyebrows that it was affecting the lenses he was trying to see you through.
“I need you to be a good girl for me,” he added breathlessly, yet still commanding enough. “Keep your head on the mattress. Ass up. Don’t turn around.”
You nodded. Too eagerly again. Couldn’t care any less again.
He didn’t think twice, just yanked the mask off and tossed it aside. It landed near you, making you bury half your face on the sheets as if staring at the mask alone would be disobeying his commands.
The sound he made when the cool air hit his face was pure relief. He swiped the sweat off with his forearm, finally seeing you clearly. Face down. Eyes squeezed shut. Already clutching the sheets.
“You look so pretty like this,” he mumbled. “All spread out for me…waiting.”
“Peter…” you whined, lifting your ass slightly from the pillow.
“I know, I know. You’re okay.” He couldn’t keep the smirk away when he added, “you said please.”
He reached between you, guiding the thick head of his cock between your thighs until it nudged against your entrance. You were still soft and ready and perfect.
Peter pushed in slowly, letting you feel every inch as he sank deep and deep and deeper.
He braced one hand beside your head and kept the other on your hip, pushing you into the mattress as his thighs hit the back of yours. Slap. Slap. Slap. The position left almost no space between your bodies, with Peter pressing his chest against your back.
“Fuck…you feel so good like this…so pretty taking me.”
He kept going, making the mattress creak and the base of the bed hit the brick wall repeatedly. Your desperate moans ran through his body like electricity, making something inside him crack open again.
What? What is–
The moment his rhythm stuttered, he shook his head, trying to clear it. Beads of sweat flew from his hair to your back.
“God–you…you’re making me–” The roughness of his thrusts slowed down immediately, inhaling a sharp intake of air as he felt the change again. “I can’t, I can’t…”
He lifted his gaze to the window behind the bed and noticed his eyes had turned back to its original color.
“Oh my god,” he gasped, stopping altogether. He straightened up, still kneeling and inside you, but panicking. “I’m…I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened I–“
“Peter!” You cut him off, pushing yourself back, closer to him, without turning around. “Shut up and fuck me.”
The order left your mouth breathless, pushing back against him even more to make the point clear. His hands twitched when they gripped your hips again.
“Okay, okay…” he panted, groaning when you dropped back on the bed and his cock almost left the warmth of your pussy. “I’m sorry–if I was too rough, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
He picked up the pace again, but the words tumbling out of him now were pure pleading Peter again.
“Don’t turn around–don’t turn around–fuck, fuck…” slap, slap, slap. “You can come now. Please. Please, I want to feel it–you’d come apart so pretty on me, I know you would…pleasepleaseplease–”
His final permission and the desperate way he said it made you crash harder than the first time, crying out into the mattress. The second he felt you coming around him, he knew he couldn’t last much longer either.
“Can I–inside…please, can I??…let me fill you up–”
“Yes–inside, Peter, do it inside me…”
He buried himself to the hilt with a strained groan and finally came. The orgasm tearing out of him was harder and longer than anything he’d ever felt, holding you there, filling you up.
You gasped against the sheets, breathless, as the waves of cum seemed to go on forever, flooding you with warm and thick ropes in every spurt as he emptied himself inside you.
“Thank you…thank you…” His forehead dropped between your shoulder blades, sending broken gasps against your skin as he kept coming. “You are so perfect–fuck…so perfect…thank you…”
The pollen wrung him dry until he could barely breathe, and even then he kept rolling his hips weakly, chasing the last of it while he slowly softened inside you.
When it finally eased, the pain, the need, the hunger…he pulled out slowly with a whine, and half collapsed over you. His arms held most of his weight as he planked above you, but you could feel every ridge of his muscles brushing your sweaty skin.
Peter’s eyes fluttered shut, feeling exhausted and aching in the best way, almost lulled by the sounds of your agitated breaths.
You both felt the warm trail of liquid leaking out between your bodies and neither of you moved or said anything for a while. He could’ve stayed like that forever, really. With your naked body under him, no masks, no barriers, just your swollen pussy leaking out his seed–
“Successful ejaculation brought down the arachnid hormone levels immediately. Inhibitor working within regular parameters now. Congratulations, Peter.”
EV’s monotone voice cut through the silence.
It took two seconds of shock before you both broke into breathless laughter. His teeth grazed your back as your bodies vibrated in sync from the amusement and overall flustering after everything that happened.
“Thank you, EV,” Peter muttered.
“You’re welcome. I gathered data and the released semen volume exceeds standard parameters by two hundred and twenty six percent due to the high hormonal concentration. Hydration, clean up and rest are advised.”
“For fucks sake…” Peter cursed under his breath.
“Oh god…” you mumbled against the sheets.
That was your call back to reality.
Peter felt you move under him, reaching blindly to the side until your hand found the mask. You lifted it over your shoulder, offering it to him without looking.
“I don’t want to,” he said, too quickly, then cleared his throat. “I…I don’t want to put it back on.”
“Then I’ll close my eyes,” you offered instead.
“No–I mean…you don’t have to. I don’t want to wear it around you anymore. Not after…all of this,” he admitted sheepishly.
“But you told me to not turn around,” you reminded him, dropping the mask on the mattress again. “And that was you, not the darker you.”
He chuckled, nodding even if you couldn’t see him yet.
“Yeah, because if I saw your face while I was balls deep inside you I would’ve busted before you came.”
There it was. He said it. No turning back now.
At least it got a chuckle from you too.
“Listen I…I meant everything I said. Everything. The wanting, the nights I thought about you,” he confessed. “I don’t want you to feel like I just used you when…when there was always a reason why I needed you like oxygen tonight.”
Your breath hitched, and his hand found your waist, pulling you closer to him, and when you didn’t push away…he exhaled in relief behind you.
“So maybe…you can turn around now. If–if you want to. Know the real me.”
“I would really like that,” you whispered without hesitation.
You tried lifting yourself up to turn around, but he did most of the job, moving away the pillow he had placed under you and helping you roll onto your back. You closed your eyes, at least until you were facing him completely, and took a deep breath. Holding onto his biceps for moral support, you finally opened them again.
Seeing his face for the first time felt so intimate, even after everything you just did.
There he was. The same guy who just fucked you into next week, looking more shy and boyish than you could’ve ever imagined.
Brown eyes. Dark, curly hair sticking to his forehead. A nervous smile tugging at the corner of his gorgeous mouth.
So young. So earnest. So yours.
Not spidey anymore. Just Peter.
Your Peter.
Thank you so much for reading 🤍 I used to write Peter so much back in the day (shoutout to my starktonyx era) and I’ve missed him dearly.
oscar piastri being exactly the type of guy to give very nonchalant, everyday dominance.
when he sees you in the paddock and notices your skirt that was already short enough had ridden up he casually strolls behind you and pulls it down, pressing a kiss to your temple before hes back off doing something to the car.
*
he invited you to hang out on test days and as it keeps dragging on with you just sitting at the side you start getting tired and irritable and he pulls you to the side
"you want something to eat? you want me to take you somewhere or something?" and when you convince him youre fine and you can eat when you leave he gives u a little look of warning "be good then."
*
"osc?" you called out to your boyfriend who sat on the hotel bed, watching you to make sure you studied for your math exam and he just shook his head in reply. you had come to visit him between races but you had take some time away from school. he made you promise you’d keep up your studies and not let him distract you and he wasn’t sticking to that plan. “back to work angel, be good and then we can go get dinner. yeah?" "okay." you pouted.
"no pouting. be good for me."
*
youre leaving the hotel after race weekend and he’s signing autographs and taking photos with fans whilst you linger next to him. he looks down to see where he’s writing and your undone lace sticks out to him and he’s quick to lean down rety the lace before getting back to the fans. the casualness in how he takes care of you leaves you blushing.
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pairing. lewis hamilton x younger!reader genre. smau, lowkey crack warnings. suggestive, v random
note. if you see texts like these for the kpop group bigbang floating around on here from like, six months ago, those were me! dw, im only plagiarizing myself!
ex! oscar piastri x yn! singer x jude bellingham | request — here |
| oscar masterlist | jude masterlist |
"But it don't matter how your love feels anymore, It will never be the cure" where the public hears 'the cure' and they can't help but wonder what happened to the "happy" couple, all while a relationship has been blooming behind closed doors...
note — (manips by me!!) i took this request and RAN with it, this is pretty long and full of drama and some messy timelines but i hope you enjoy !! likes, reblog's and comments are really appreciated ❤
Liked by user1, user2 and 152,383 others
tmz Y/n L/n performed a unreleased song called "the cure" during a surprise set at Coachella.
L/n saying "This next song is a new one. It's about being in a relationship that is quote-unquote happy and having these thoughts of 'Why do I feel so depressed? Why can’t I feel how I think it’s supposed to feel in my head?' After I had that conversation with myself, I went and wrote 'the cure' which is this song, I hope you enjoy". L/n gave no hint as to when the song will be released.
In the song, L/n talks of loneliness and intrusive thoughts while reflecting on a relationship she initially viewed as an "antidote". L/n has been in a relationship with McLaren Formula One driver Oscar Piastri for 2 years now, their relationship status is unknown at this time.
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user1 oof love can't fix everything honey 😔💔
user2 it has been a minute since they've been seen together
user3 uhhhh did they break up????
->user4 people have been saying it for awhile now
->user5 there has been speculation for like 6 months tbh
user6 the feeling of love not being able to fix you when you thought it would... damn
user7 wait she's just like me fr 😬
user8 that 2 years is probably not accurate if she has a whole break up song written and about to start a album rollout
user9 it feels like a break up song but also not idk why
->user10 feels more like coming to terms with learning love can't fix everything
user11 "i hope you enjoy" and it's one of the most heartbreaking songs she's written
user12 omg if this is a single then her album is going to HURT
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Liked by judebellingham, chappellroan and 2,318,362 others
yourusername coachellaaaaa hope you had as much fun as i did!!!
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user1 one of your best looks BY FARRR
user2 can we talk about the pain that is 'the cure' ?!???
user3 oscar's not in the comments...
->user4 he's also not in the likes 💔
->user5 she still follows his sister which is good i guess?
user6 you ate but also THE CURE?!!??? we need more details plzz
user7 the first picture is sooooo 🥵
user8 uhhhh why is jude bellingham in the likes... im scared
->user9 he heard she was single
->user10 i'd be here for it lowkey
user11 heyyy girl are you single?
user12 no oscar but jude is here, win win?
user13 okay now we need a official coachella set please
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Liked by user1, user2 and 492,738 others
enews How Y/n L/n and Oscar Piastri kept their break up under wraps for half a year after 2 years- scratch that a year and a half of dating...
While the two kept up appearances by liking each other’s posts and mentioning each other to a certain extent, for 6 months the pair weren’t dating according to their respective teams.
The shock of the split seemed to only be from the fans. The former couple appeared to have been dealing with a nagging ex from Piastri’s side for a while and it looked to have gotten under the skin of L/n, the McLaren driver is rumored to have continuing to talk to his ex despite the disapproval from his girlfriend at the time.
It’s unclear why the two have officially split but it shouldn’t be a shock when Y/n L/n makes it clear she’s not on the lookout for someone new, as she’s already been getting very familiar with a known English man…. 👀
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user1 SAY IT AIN'T SO
user2 he was still talking to his ex.... ain't no way
user3 i don’t get the point of publicly being together…?
->user4 i think it was less “being together” and more not making their break up SO obvious
->user5 but they DID break up so why hide it
->user6 it’s not “hiding it” it’s them not needing to tell the world about it on socials because she’s not some random influencer….
user7 "scratch that" y'all are so messy man
user8 i feel like the public mention of each other actually did help with the rumors of a break up
->user9 it 100% did, people would speculate and then a few days later oscar would like a post about her or someone in his family would
->user10 and people assumed they were obviously still together then
->user11 honestly it was usually oscar... so maybe they broke up and he just missed her 😭
->user12 she mentioned him like ONCE in the past 6 months while he's talked about her quite a bit so i think the ex thing is probably true
user13 wait im kinda sick
user14 why are we ignoring that last part....
->user15 it has to be jude bellingham
->user16 he's been in her likes for a little bit now and she's been in his
user17 he didn't seem that committed to her i fear
user18 how did he fumble y/n l/n????
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♬ Sade ‧ Is It a Crime
Liked by janniksin, alex_albon and 1,772,256 others
oscarpiastri Keep pushing.
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user1 what happened to the fun music?!???
user2 this is such a break up post im sickk
user3 girl why are you sad posting after their outing instead of after 'the cure' performance...?
->user4 he's tryna distract us
->user5 that mention of a nagging ex HAS to be real then
user6 the real question is what did you do....
user7 NOT WITH THIS SONG
user8 you couldn't have just blocked your ex??
->user9 we don't know why they broke up chill
->user10 they broke up for a reason tho
user11 keep your head up king
user12 is this even a thirst trap if he looks depressed?
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Liked by judebellingham, chappellroan and 3,937,815 others
yourusername THE CURE SONG AND VIDEO IS OFFICIALLY OUT NOW!!!!! this song means so much to me and I’m so so so happy that it’s out in the world! hope you enjoy this imaginative music video that I adore xoxoxox ❤️❤️❤️❤️
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user1 the way you casually dropped the song of the decade
judebellingham perfect liked by yourusername !
->user2 IN EVERY WAY
->user3 feeling envious...
->user4 the bare minimum but still cute
user5 😭❤️It’s amazing
user6 already #1 on my On Repeat playlist
chappellroan you are everything
->yourusername ily <3 liked by yourusername !
->user7 MY FAVSSS
user8 every song is your next best song
user9 babe, i’m cured thank you
user10 10/10 BEAUTIFUL PERFECT AMAZING
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Liked by judebellingham, chappellroan and 6,318,362 others
yourusername my third album ‘you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love’ is out June 12th. I am so proud of this record and I can’t wait for you to hear it. available for preorder now!
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user1 this album cover is everything
judebellingham "so american" my favorite
->yourusername mhmm is that the only one?
->judebellingham plus "stupid song" and "drop dead"
->yourusername whoa i wouldn't have guessed....
->user2 uhhh are we getting jude LOVE SONGS!?!????
->user3 i mean it's been about a year of them together user2 so....
user4 screaming and i will be streaming
user5 counting down the days
vinijr expectations will be my favorite liked by yourusername !
->user6 ?!???? 😭
->judebellingham you'll like it
->user7 ugh he got to hear the album before me... it's not fair
user8 Oh my goodness yay
user9 lives were changed
conangray i am screaming at my phone liked by yourusername !
user10 nature is healing
user11 okay so if the cure is right there... does that mean it's pretty sad for a girl so in love and then the end is kinda "so in love" !????
->user12 wait why the end be so in love??
->user13 jude saying those three are his favorite 😭
->user14 the so american makes me that that!!
irisapatow 😭 so fkn excited liked by yourusername !
user15 cigarette smoke???
->user16 i feel like it might be rhetorical
->user17 like instead of it literally being cigarette smoke it’s the feeling of an ex lingering
->user18 your mind... user17
user19 record of the year
user20 YESSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!! 💗
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♬ The Cure ‧ Lovesong
Liked by yourusername, vinijr and 7,682,564 others
judebellingham life’s been pretty good recently
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user1 omg this dress is so so so good y/n
yourusername 🖼🤍
->judebellingham 💞💞
->user2 parents <3
->user3 her first time being hard launched im- 😭😭😭
user4 oh this is so important guys....
user5 mother is GLOWINGGG
jobebellingham wonder who took that 5th picture.....?
->judebellingham 5th 📸 credit jobebellingham
->yourusername thank u jobebellingham
->jobebellingham your welcome y/n!
->user6 such a annoyed filled reply jude ☠
->user7 pls these cuties
user8 he's in loveeeee
user9 i'd also post y/n as much as i could
vinijr 😏
->judebellingham 🙄
->user10 PLEASEEEE I LOVE THEM
->user11 jude is so over it 😭
user12 IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MEEEE
user13 hard launch of the century btw
user14 "i will always love you" THIS SONGGGG
user15 i don't know who to be more jealous of
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Liked by user1, user2 and 182,564 others
YnLnUpdates Excerpts from a recent Y/n L/n interview!
"Some of the songs in the beginning were written and at the time I thought ‘wow a love song, I've written so many songs about an array of emotions and now romantic love is apart of that’ and then when I showed them to my producer he’s was like ‘damn you seem pretty said for someone who’s supposedly writing love songs’ and it made me take a step back and really think about the feelings that I was writing about.”
“I obviously did end up writing “love songs” because despite problems that were happening there was still love. I was so scared of the possibility of getting heartbroken and in some songs that’s noticeable but after my first real breakup as an adult it made me appreciate that relationship and love that was there at some point.”
"The album is in chronological order. It goes from being in love to the cracks in the relationship showing to the breakup and so on. Though at one point it was going to be 'expectations' and then 'cigarette smoke' was going to be the end of the album but things changed."
“Well I'm really happy, like, it’s hard to really put into words. When you aren’t looking for love it has a funny way of making you feel like you found something that you didn’t know was missing.”
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user1 her producer being the reason for the album name so funny 😭
user2 to think we wouldn't have gotten drop dead...
->user3 hate to thank a man for something a woman made but..
->user4 thank you jude bellingham for being beautiful
user5 so a lot of the love songs about oscar are going to be sad #alright
user6 god after hearing her interviews from last year the difference in how happy she is now is so obvious
user7 see how easy it is to not be a loser when it comes to your ex oscarpiastri
user8 the chronological aspect of the album is going to hurt i just know it
user9 i do appreciate her talking about how she was in love with oscar
->user9 she could just not acknowledge it and only talk about the break up and falling in love again
->user10 i was wondering if she was going to talk about her past relationship since she's in a new one it might've been weird, so her talking about it is really nice :)
->user11 also love that she can talk about it in a positive light!!
user12 feeling sad because she seems so content with the the break up and oscar is still being weird :/
user13 she's so in loveeee now im so happy for her <3
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Liked by judebellingham, chappellroan and 4,278,362 others
yourusername 💘'you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love' out now💘
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user1 the only album ever btw
judebellingham love u, my girl 💘 liked by yourusername !
->user2 OUR*
->user3 thank you for these love songs king <3
user4 THANK YOU for the ALBUM OF THE YEAR
user5 Greatest album of all time btw
clairo Listening & loving liked by yourusername !
user6 simply a masterpiece
user7 this album is genuinely the best thing i’ve ever experienced
conangray :,) ❤ liked by yourusername !
user8 no skip discography
user9 how do you feel knowing you wrote another heart wrenching album
user10 What did you put in this album?!!
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Liked by user1, user2 and 284,731 others
F1Gossip Oscar Piastri when asked about Y/n L/n in a recent interview...
"She's amazing, I wish her nothing but the best."
Piastri and L/n were in a relationship for a year and a half prior to their split. L/n is now in a relationship with English football player Jude Bellingham.
view all comments
user1 im sad again
user2 if you watch the video he actually seemed genuine
->user3 yeah i think he knows it's 100% over :/
->user4 sounded sad but also like he accepted it
user5 we all heard begged, this isn't going to work on me
user6 oh so he listened to the album too
user7 i mean he's in a relationship with the girl he was still talking to with y/n so i'd hope he's moved on since he did when they were together
->user8 LIKE!?!?? i love him but it would just be better for him to just distance himself from her since she's moved on
->user9 and she's also talked not "highly" but she hasn't trashed him so he should probably just let her be
user10 i fear this is just the result of just two people's relationship not working out... nothing more they obviously have respect for each other
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♬ Y/n L/n ‧ drop dead
Liked by judebellingham, chappellroan and 8,418,862 others
yourusername wonderful wonderful time <3
view all comments
user1 the dress in the 1st and 2nd picture is eatinggg
judebellingham my everything!!!! 💘
->yourusername love ya 😚💘
->user2 this still doesn't feel real
->user3 they better work out... i love them
user4 Cutest girl in the world
user5 THIS SONGGG EXACTLYYY
conangray wait #awesome liked by yourusername !
user6 treat our boy well please
user7 the number 10 bag.... exactly
user8 Liked before jude bellingham
->judebellingham lies
->user8 okay i did lie 💔
->user9 ugh he matches her energy so well <333
user10 Y/NS FIRST BF POSTED ON INSTAAAA
user11 he's the luckiest guy in the world wow
user12 OUR PARENTSS
user13 the bag and snoopy im in love
user14 fifth picture is truly so iconic
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✎…… can't believe this is finally out, this was supposed to be 80% shorter but i got carried away so i hope you enjoy
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
summary: you disappear for a week, come back with new hair, and accidentally start a cheating scandal that breaks the f1 internet.
pairing: charles leclerc x gf!reader
warnings: media/fan speculation, online harassment (mentioned), mild language, public rumor stress, miscommunication, fake cheating accusations, parasocial nonsense, use of y/n, established relationship (duh)
notes: sorry i've been so inactive gang 😔, i've got more midterms starting up and i've been so locked in with that + living my normal life that i've been neglecting writing LMAO BUT HERE YALL GO!! a cute lil smau fic to hold you over while i balance my shit 😝
f1 masterlist !
INSTAGRAM
yourusername
liked by charles_leclerc, carmenmmundt, carlossainz55 and others
yourusername, this weekend <3
view comments
charles_leclerc, ❤️ ♥︎ liked by creator
friend3, most beautiful girl 😏
— yourusername, you gon make me blush 😊
lilymhe, stop being cute it’s making the rest of us look bad 😭
— alex_albon, honestly.
— yourusername, LMAO
f1wagupdates, imagine being this soft omg
carmenmmudt, body tea or whatever the kids say these days
— yourusername, CARMEN AHAHAHA
yncharlesenthusiast, her laying down on him 🥹🥹🥹
user1, if you see someone laying on the road tonight, thats me! 🤗
arthur_leclerc, it was torture being with the two of you. disgusting people.
— yourusername, ur just jelly 🤣🤣
— arthur_leclerc, jealous of people who dont have to third wheel you? yes. 100%.
iamrebeccad, my beautiful girl 🤍 ♥︎ liked by creator
Posted 1 week ago.
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TWITTER
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INSTAGRAM
f1wagsightings
liked by charlesleclercupdates, wagsoff1 and others
f1wagsightings, Charles Leclerc seen with mystery girl in Monaco 👀 thoughts?
view comments
y/nfanpage, brooo that’s def not her 😭
charlesleclercupdates, he’s moving mad again 😭 someone slap the shit out of him
yncharlesenthusiast, you must be fucking joking.
wagsleuths, y/n hasn’t posted in a week either... oh my days
charlestheangel, MAN. i've got to change my username cuz what the hell.
y/nhatepage, finally. y/n didnt deserve him anyway
— 16lovergirl, man shut up.
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TEXTS
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TWITTER
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INSTAGRAM
yourusername
liked by lilymhe, pierregasly, iamrebeccad and others
yourusername, same girl, new hair 💋
view comments
charles_leclerc, never taking you to dinner again 😭
— yourusername, you love me
kikagomez, bro he almost died for no reason 💀 ♥︎ liked by creator
iamrebeccad, well, atleast you look beautiful as a brunette 😅 ♥︎ liked by creator
lilymhe, the chaos you caused omg 😭
— yourusername, whoops
wagsleuths, well, i guess were all truly stupid LMAO
friend3, Twitter owes you an apology fr 😭😭
carmenmmundt, next time you dye your hair, maybe upload the change immediately 😙 ♥︎ liked by creator
yncharlesenthusiast, mother’s power even with a color change 🫶
arthur_leclerc, i was gonna rip a new one into charles...
— yourusername, i was told🤣🤣
charynprotector, I WAS RIGHT!!! never doubt me 😎 ♥︎ liked by creator
— charynprotector, OMG SHE LIKED MY COMMENT
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charles_leclerc
liked by landonorris, pierregasly, alex_albon and others
charles_leclerc, the only thing I cheat on is UNO when she’s winning 😇
view comments
yourusername, I KNEW IT. THERE WAS NO WAY YOU WENT FROM 8 CARDS TO 2💀
— charles_leclerc, sorry chérie 😍
landonorris, we almost had a national crisis because of you two 😭 ♥︎ liked by creator and yourusername
y/nfanpage, welp. atleast we know he didnt cheat on her 😅
alex_albon, UNO cheating > relationship cheating
carlossainz55, deleting my paragraph... ♥︎ liked by yourusername
— charles_leclerc, what paragraph...😟
— iamrebeccad, dont worry about it charles!
pierregasly, never a dull moment with the Leclercs! ♥︎ liked by creator
maxverstappen1, this was a fun adventure, do it again. ♥︎ liked by yourusername
yourusername, dyed my hair for fun and almost started a global crisis #sorrycharles
— charles_leclerc, never again. stay brunette forever pls 😭
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
oscar has his hands full, being in a relationship with you and lando.
note: i'm so landoscar pilled lately
warnings : swearing, implied/referenced sex
fc: beabadoobee
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ynpriv just posted
liked by ln4priv and others
ynpriv: $200 for the little gay one
view all comments:
oscaaaah: Baby why are you trying to sell us
⤷ynpriv: need tha money
⤷ln4priv: We are millionaires?
ln4priv: Second pic is wildly accurate
⤷ynpriv: idk how he deals with us
⤷oscaaaah: Its really hard work
albono23: would you do $100 for the little gay one
⤷ln4priv: Alex you cant buy me
⤷ynpriv: stop trying to lowball me albono. i know his worth!
ynpriv just posted
liked by ln4priv, oscaaaah, and others
ynpriv: my favorite pov
view all comments:
ln4priv: Wait who is who?
⤷ynpriv: well oscar has brown eyes and i just refilled my lexapro prescription so come to your own conclusions
⤷oscaaah: As if that should even be a question lol
albono23: did they finally let you adopt a cat
⤷ynpriv: i make my own decisions!
⤷ln4priv: Yes we did
lilympriv: i’m omw over to pet that baby
oscaaaah: That’s my favorite pov too.
⤷ynpriv: you dog
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Piastri’s version🥐 @piastripastries - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook
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