Curate, connect, and discover
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Cars (Movies) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Salley Carrera/Holley Shiftwell Characters: Sally Carrera, Holley Shiftwell Additional Tags: Car Sex, not humanized Summary:
A rainy night in the desert, and two cars who can't resist each other. Yes, this is lesbian car-on-car. No, I'm not sure anyone will enjoy this.
I didn’t make that fic.
Found this on Archive of Our Own one time. I usually avoid reading this type of thing, or at least read once and never again since I have a pretty good memory of things, but i don’t know I’m weirdly intrigued.
Honestly I don’t read smut... but I found intriguing was it got me thinking about my favorite Cars girls as a femslash pairing. It’s written in a way that honestly does feel in character for both. Holley being nervous and flustered about her attraction and Sally being the more bold and confident of the two. That feels in-character for them (along with Sally being the one with the experience and initiates it and being on top). There’s also the description of the body language the two have that Sally can tell Holley’s attracted to her and giving Holley the confirmation that she likes her too. Thus when they do the deed they are giving permission and consent with Sally leading the way.
I shouldn’t have to praise that part because that’s something that SHOULD be understand by people. Consent and both sides taking initiative. Not just one party saying “WE HAVE SEX WHEN I WANT IT! YOUR OPINION OR FEELING OF IT DON’T MATTER!” Oh and the feeling that they actually do like each other and see each other as equals.
Any relationship, whether romantic, platonic, or even sexual, should have all parties feel equal to each other in the emotional sense.
Well that’s my two cents, going to back to start planning my own femslash fanfic while also thinking about the canon ships.
Oh, and a possible Cars Hunger Games-esque Rebellion AU of Francesco/Sally.
I like shipping.
Hello, i love your writing sm, u my fave writer atm! ❤️
With that said: car sex with Sakusa? 👀
Ahhh thank you so much!! You have immaculate taste because Sakusa + car sex? Yeah, you’re onto something 😩
Enjoy my lovely <333
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The silence in the car wasn’t how the night started.
In fact, the ride began with fire.
“You’re unbelievable,” you seethed, gripping the edge of the seat with white-knuckled hands. Your body was turned halfway toward him, even as you stared furiously at the dashboard, shoulders tight and chest rising with sharp, shallow breaths. “Dragging me to that stupid event just to pretend we’re some picture-perfect couple? You barely even looked at me!”
Sakusa’s hands tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles pale against the black leather. His jaw flexed, a slow grind beneath smooth skin, eyes locked on the road but burning with restraint. “You said you wanted to be part of things. That was me including you.”
You scoffed and whipped your head toward him, brows pinched in disbelief. “Don’t act like you were doing me a favor. You stood across the room for an hour and didn’t say a word to me. Not even one.”
“I didn’t think I had to babysit you,” he snapped, his voice cold, cutting through the tension like a scalpel. His hands didn’t leave the wheel, but his fingers drummed once—sharp and anxious—before stilling.
Your mouth dropped open. You turned your whole body toward him now, arms crossed so tightly over your chest it looked like you were holding yourself back. “That’s not what I wanted, Kiyoomi. I just wanted to feel like I was actually with you, not standing on the outside of your perfect little world.”
His nostrils flared. “Oh, right,” he bit out, eyes still locked forward. “Because you’re the victim here. Because I’m the one who constantly pushes people away, right?”
You opened your mouth, then stopped yourself, your expression twisted in a mix of anger and disbelief. Your knee bounced—restless, fidgety—as you turned to glare out the passenger side window.
“Say it,” he growled after a beat. His voice dropped low, quiet and seething. “Say what you’re thinking.”
“I’m fucking thinking I should’ve stayed home,” you spat, voice tight with unshed tears and heat.
The car swerved slightly as Sakusa’s grip on the wheel tightened. His breathing came faster, more shallow. Then, without a word, he flicked the turn signal with a decisive snap and veered off onto a side road. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as he pulled into an empty lot with the aggressive stillness of someone holding back a scream.
He slammed the gear into park, the jolt throwing your body forward slightly in your seat. Then the engine cut. Complete silence fell.
He turned to face you slowly. His posture was rigid, tie loosened just enough to reveal the strong line of his throat. His chest heaved beneath his dress shirt. When he met your eyes, they burned.
“Backseat. Now.”
You blinked, breath caught in your throat. “What?”
His voice was low and unshaking. “You want honesty? You want attention? Get in the backseat and I’ll show you exactly how much I’ve been holding back.”
You stared at him for a moment, heart pounding so hard you could feel it in your fingertips. And then, without another word, you unbuckled and climbed over the console, limbs shaky, breath quick and tight.
He was right behind you.
The doors clicked locked as he slid in after you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back into him, lips crashing into yours with none of the finesse he usually carried. This wasn’t slow. This wasn’t soft. This was everything you’d been stewing in for the last hour coming to a boil.
You yanked at his suit jacket, fingers curling into the sleek fabric as he shrugged it off with a growl, leaving him in his dress shirt and loosened tie. Your nails dug into the starched cotton at his back as he pushed you down against the seat, slotting himself between your legs.
“You think I don’t want you there?” he growled, mouth hot against your neck. “You think I wasn’t losing my mind every time someone else looked at you tonight?”
You gasped, back arching. “You didn’t show it.”
“No,” he muttered, dragging his teeth along your jaw, “because if I did, I wouldn’t have made it through the damn dinner without taking you apart under the table.”
Clothes were shoved aside, breaths lost in the fogging windows. Your moans tangled with the storm still raging between you, every movement fueled by frustration and desire, until it was all the same heat.
His tie was the first thing he reached for after his shirt was undone, tugging it free from his collar with one hand while his other stayed braced beneath your thigh. He looped it behind your neck, tugging you forward by the silk until your lips collided again, the fabric tightening slightly as he pulled. The pressure was intoxicating.
“You want my attention?” he rasped, panting against your lips, “You have all of it now. Every last fucking bit.”
You whimpered as his hands pushed your underwear to the side, fingers brushing over your soaked heat with maddening slowness. His eyes flicked up to meet yours as he slid two fingers inside, curling just enough to make your spine arch.
“I should’ve done this the second you started running your mouth in the car,” he muttered, voice low and ragged. “Should’ve bent you over the hood and fucked that attitude right out of you.”
Your hips rocked down against his hand, breath hitching with every motion. “Then stop talking,” you whispered, “and do it.”
Something cracked.
He pulled his fingers out, slick and slow, only to unbuckle his belt with one hand and tug you forward by the tie with the other. He kissed you like he was trying to erase the fight from your memory—teeth and tongue, bruising and desperate.
You barely had time to brace yourself before he lined up and pushed in with one slow, devastating thrust. Your back arched off the seat, a moan torn from your throat as he filled you completely.
His forehead dropped to yours.
“Keep looking at me,” he ordered. “You wanted to feel it? Feel this.”
He started to move, hard and deep, each thrust grinding your hips against the cushion, the car rocking gently with each snap of his body into yours. The windows fogged, your moans echoing off the leather and glass, drowned out only by the rain hammering the roof above you.
Sakusa’s hand slid up your stomach, under your shirt, pushing the fabric up until your bra was bunched against your ribs. His mouth found your chest, biting, licking, marking with open-mouth kisses that burned.
Every snap of his hips was frustration, every groan was something he hadn’t said earlier, and every time he gripped your thighs tighter was a reminder: you belonged to him.
Your orgasm hit fast—unforgiving, white-hot. Your vision blurred as your body tightened, clutching at him with everything you had.
He didn’t stop.
He kept moving through it, chasing his own release, one hand holding your hip, the other still gripping that tie like a leash.
When he came, it was with a low, wrecked groan into the crook of your neck, his body pressed so tightly against yours you could barely breathe.
Later, when you lay tangled together in the backseat, breathless and wrecked, Sakusa pulled you against his chest, still panting.
“Next time,” he murmured into your hair, “you stay by my side.”
You let out a breathless laugh. “Only if you actually look at me.”
He kissed your temple, lips finally soft. “Deal.”