writing soft carcar moments during my commute to soothe my annoyance at the hungarian gp 2026
ficlet under the cut
The time for words only comes after.
After all the adrenaline has been spent, after they've torn each other apart with rabid hands and greedy mouths, once they've stopped panting, once they've stop shaking, once the sweat on their naked bodies has cooled down enough that the AC makes Oscar shiver through the thin, damp sheets he's curled up under.
Carlos is lying on his back, eyes closed, plump lips slightly parted, and his bare, glistening chest heaving slowly, evenly, peacefully.
He seems to be asleep, but Oscar knows he isn't, for reasons far more embarrassing than the one he's about to admit.
"I know it wasn't your fault," he whispers to the silent room.
Carlos' face twitches—his eyelids shift without opening and a corner of his lips hikes up in a grimace.
"I wasn't even that mad at you, really," Oscar continues, voice still a murmur, barely louder than the AC.
Carlos now opens his eyes, deliberately slow, and blinks at the ceiling a few times before letting out a sigh.
"I know," he says, matter-of-factly but not quite as smug as Oscar would have expected.
Oscar huffs, then swallows a stubborn resurgence of frustration. He knows Carlos isn't going to coddle him—and isn't that why he's here, naked in his bed?
"It just sucks. This season—nothing seems to ever go actually right. I just don't know what to do anymore." He fails miserably at keeping his voice even, now, and hates how whiny he sounds, but he can't help it.
"Yeah," Carlos sighs. "I know." He, too, can't hide the emotion in his voice, but for him it's a deserved bitterness, a reasonable exhaustion.
Oscar knows he has no right to complain to Carlos about his career, but Carlos will still take it, will still hold him, like he did last year through the aftershocks of his failed championship campaign, and Oscar is too selfish to give that up.
At the back of his mind reverberates the echo of a dozen of voices—Andrea, Zak, Tom, Emma, Artturi, Mark. Debriefs in Woking, meetings with his management team, dinners with Mark, and then visits to Red Bull, calls with Ferrari, emails from Audi. Options and choices, possibilities and rejections. Everyone urging him to do better, do more, take more decisions, make fewer mistakes.
The season is only half way through, but Oscar is tired, feels lost, smothered by doubts, each day less certain of the path his career is going.
And if he only drove faster, if he only placed better—then maybe, maybe, maybe.
He sighs. Carlos has closed his eyes again, and his breath is now heavier. His left hand is now on his chest, but his right is still lying at his side, so Oscar reaches out to take it. He wraps his fingers around his wrist, damp hair meeting his clammy palm, and the voices already start fading.
Carlos' long lashes flutter open, even slower than before, and he finally turns to look at Oscar. He looks exhausted, but his eyes are warm and the curve of his lips is soft, all the stiffness from his media obligations melted away in their earlier wrestle for power and pleasure.
His hand moves to shake off Oscar's grip and find his fingers instead, tangling with them before tugging at him. Oscar doesn't hesitate—he takes full advantage of that gentle invitation and scoots closer to Carlos until their bodies are flush to one another, every part of them slotting perfectly together with practiced ease.
The low hum of the AC now melds with Carlos' soft breathing, and no kind of white noise can compete.
When Oscar nests his face in the curve of Carlos' neck, when his lips find the salty surface of his tan skin and his nose fills with his musk, all the voices die out and all his worries evaporate into a sweet haze that engulfs his brain and finally brings him some peace.
Maybe they'll talk more later, maybe they'll argue again at breakfast over who had the right in their incident, or maybe they'll just commiserate together about being let down by their teams.
But now, silence descends over them again, and they just hold one another as they fall asleep.
Summary: [NSFW] As the only one who knows Spider-Mans identity after the unfortunate spell, Peter and you have been getting extremely close. Who knew that a little mistake at a college party, could change the terms of your relationship?
Part 2 is here!
CW: softdom!peter, submissive!femreader, smut!!!, underage drinking, "tipsy" sex, mentions of bondage, rough-sex, manhandling of reader, oral (f-receiving), orgasm denial (sorta), overstimulation (kinda, mainly of reader), unprotected sex, pet names (baby, princess, good girl... I think that's it), praise, slight degradation, bruises, teasing, explicit description and wording, restricted movement, mention/slight hint of roleplay
****PLEASE DON'T READ IF YOU BELIEVE YOU MAY BE TRIGGERED. I PROMISE IT'S NOT WORTH THE RISK!!!****
A/N: This is the first smut I'm publishing, so please be patient. I'm practicing, but I realize this is not the best :,) But anyways, I hope you can get a little bit of excitement out of it 🍑✨🧡
Everyone in this fic is 18+
5k words, edited once
“And then, you know, the ENTIRE STATUE BREAKS-” Peter waved dramatically at you, rambling at such a quick speed it was difficult to keep up.
“Peter-” You tried to interrupt with a giggle at his frantic hand movements, the attempt failing pretty quickly. He was starting to get way too riled up, and you were getting worried someone was going to hear his rant. Ever since everyone else forgot Spider-Man’s identity, he was usually extremely careful about bringing up his alter ego in public...
“Which is NOT the first time I was taking part in the destruction of a NATIONAL MONUMENT! You probably don’t remember but-” He ignored your first interruption, so you were more aggressive this time around by slapping your hand over his mouth.
“Peter!” You hissed, stifling a laugh at his surprised look. “You’re getting a little loud, there are way too many people here. Someone’s gonna hear something and then it’s going to be even more of a disaster.”
He nodded his head and you removed your hand slowly, he muttered an embarrassed sorry while looking around the dimly lit room. You two were at one of the many frat parties that were taking place on campus, attempting to appease your roommate who INSISTED you both get some time outside of studying. You enjoyed partying most of the time, but Peter on the other hand...
He got awkward and hated not knowing most of the people there, but he refused to let you go without him. Getting drugged is not uncommon, and your roommate wasn’t really one to stick by your side. She was constantly on some random guy or girl, trying to find another victim for her unwavering libido, while you were slapping hands away and trying to dance in peace.
Peter wasn’t really one to get jealous, but he was extremely protective of you (understandable as the young hero had seen how horrible people can be, especially later in the evening). He liked to walk you to and from your late-night class on Wednesdays, always pushing your protests away and coming up with some excuse. So it wasn’t surprising when he raced after you when he heard where you were going, not complaining about the time or that he didn’t want to go.
Everything had been going great, Peter occasionally grabbing you both the only virgin drinks there while also sending glares to people who tried to approach you. That was until he got a notification about the newest Daily Bugle video that consisted of lovely interviews of New Yorkers who wished for Spider-Mans death. That was when he pulled you to the side of the room, telling you about everything they were saying it how it made him feel.
“I’m sorry, I just- It’s so loud!” He yelled as the music seemed to get even louder at the statement, raising the other conversations around you. “Here let's go.”
You were surprised when he grabbed your hand gently, pulling you away from the crowd into a nearby study. Your cheeks flushed lightly from the contact, not used to Peter being so bold... ever touching you at all really, but he didn’t take notice until he had shut the door a little louder than necessary.
“Oh! I- I didn’t mean to... sorry,” He let go of your hand, bringing it up to bashfully rub the back of his neck.
“It’s fine, I don’t mind it,” You smiled sweetly, secretly wishing he’d touch you more like that. The room filled with a thick silence, the outside voices muffled by the wall and the bass of the music shaking the ground slightly. Trying to avoid eye contact, you looked at the drink in your hand pretending to be interested in the contents, and that was when you spotted it.
“Uh, Peter?” Your jaw dropped slightly, a small smile working your way onto your face.
“What?” He seemed stressed, grabbing the long can to look at the front. His eyebrows raised and his face went beet red, then turning the bottle to look at the description on the back his jaw also dropped slightly. “Shit! I did not- I swear when I looked at the case it said it was non-alcoholic. And I-”
You interrupted by letting out a loud wheeze, doubling over quickly. It wasn’t really that funny, but the alcohol in your system was saying something else.
“Peter that’s 9%! How many did you have?” You couldn’t stop laughing, now realizing why you had been so giggly the past hour. You had at least 2 and a half cans, and could now recognize the slight buzz running through your head, fully understanding why your face had been so flushed.
“5...” He snorted slightly, joining in on your laughter. You noticed his eyes crinkle with his smile and the sight almost made you blush, he was just so adorable.
“5? Peter how are you not wasted?!?!” You were slowly bringing yourself back from your laughing fit, wiping tears from your eyes. You had a low alcohol tolerance, having not drank much in your life, and assumed Peter would be a lightweight aswell.
“It’s the spidey... thing,” He let out in between chuckles. “I doubt those will even affect me that long. And they were good okay? I couldn’t even taste the alcohol over that peachy flavor.”
“How lucky for you, I’m definitely going to be feeling a buzz for a little while,” You smiled, then let out a dramatic gasp followed by giggles. “Peter! You’re underage drinking... as a superhero!”
“So are you!” He pointed quickly, placing a hand on your shoulder to steady you from your laughing.
“Wait, wait! I’m not a hero, I’m just a normal citizen... therefore it’s better?” You smiled cheekily, not really sure if that logic made sense, but happy to tease.
“It’s still a crime,” Peter scoffed lightly, placing the drink down on a nearby table. You watched as his back muscles flexed against his tight shirt, and suddenly things weren’t as funny anymore. Your mind jumped to unholy places, your body suddenly feeling quite hot. You thought about making a joke, almost not saying it until the alcohol pushed your judgment down.
“What are ya gonna do? Arrest me? I’ve always wondered what Spider-Man’s webs felt like...” You teased slightly. Peter paused for a second, he didn’t turn around but you could tell that your comment had some sort of effect on him. It made you second guess you’re statement, but he was just a friend, he wouldn’t think anything of it right? You decided to push a little bit further as if you had just got caught. “Oh but Spider-Man, I can’t be put in jail! Please let me go, I’ll do anything!”
You giggled at your own joke, slowly realizing you were a bit tipsier than you originally thought.
“Please, Peter-” You started to beg, but stopped yourself when Peter whipped around, getting extremely close to your face. His eyes seemed to be a darker brown than normal, his breath a little bit heavy and smelling of peaches. Your own breath caught in your throat at the sudden movement, as you took in how tall he was when standing right next to you.
“You can’t say that kind of stuff to me,” He swallowed thickly, it looked like he was struggling to hold composure. “You’ve looked gorgeous all night... all the time really, I always seem to catch myself staring. And you have been so supportive through everything, so kind and understanding of my hero work, even when I have to flake on you. Y/N, you don’t know how hard it’s been to hold back, to keep myself from- from...”
“Then don’t hold back anymore,” You looked at him through your eyelashes, feeling a lump of nervousness catch in your throat. You wanted him to break the tension, to kiss you- no you wanted him to do more than that. Thoughts ripped through your mind and you could feel yourself getting excited over even the idea.
He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, coming so close to you now. He bent down slightly, you could feel his breath running over your lips. He paused, leaving you wanting and craving more.
“Why’d you have to make it so difficult for me?” He asked quietly, only centimeters away from giving you what you wanted.
“Why didn’t you look at the cans closer?” You whispered back, watching as his jaw clenched.
“I can’t do this. As much as I want to, as much as I need to...” He suddenly pulled back, raking a hand through his hair. You let out the breath you were holding, shocked at the response. “You’re drunk, I can’t do this with you. When you’re completely sober, you’ll hate me for it.”
“Peter I won’t, I’m thinking clearly. I want you,” You looked at him, your heart racing and stomach fluttering.
“You’re making this extremely difficult,” He glared at you, wishing he could look at more than just your pretty face. His eyes scanned your body slowly, needing to be on you... to be in you. He almost lost control again, when the door opened quickly.
Your roommate was giggling and making out with some pink-haired woman that you didn’t recognize, they didn’t even realize you two were there until you cleared your throat. The two girls looked up quickly, the pink-haired one giving you a shy, embarrassed smile while your roommate smirked.
“I’m sorry were we interrupting something?” She teased, raising her eyebrows at you, her hands never leaving the gal.
“Actually-” You started, before Peter quickly grabbed your hand. You looked at him in confusion as he started pulling you towards the door.
“No, we were just leaving. We’re going back to the dorms,” He said both to you and your roommate, your eyebrows furrowing slightly
“Well, alright I’ll be sure to knock before I enter,” She teased while Peter was quick to close the door and start pushing through the crowd, clearly eager to get out of there.
“Wait, Peter-” You said, taking your hand back. He stopped and turned to look at you again.
“You said you wanted me right?” He asked, his eyes scanning you once again.
The words made you stutter slightly, a blush covering your face. You nodded, trying not to notice the hungry way he looked at you as it only seemed to make you more desperate.
“Then trust me,” His gaze softened, causing you to nod again, he took back your hand. You quickly wove through the many, sweaty bodies and pushed through the door, into the cold night. You felt the rush of freezing airflow over you, quickly cooling off your body though desire kept other parts of you hot.
Just as Peter said, you started the 15-minute walk to your dorm building. He noticed your shivering and pulled you close, as he also did not bring a jacket. The walk went on in silence, you slowly felt the buzz from your drinks die down a little bit, but not fully as you knew the effects of alcohol lasted much longer than an hour. Finally, reaching inside the warm building you turned to walk towards your dorm, Peter trailing shortly behind.
It was then that you were starting to feel slightly infuriated, he had gotten you so worked up and then just... pulled away? You felt clear-minded enough, and though it was sweet that he was thinking about you, it also made you want to slap him across the face. An idea slowly dawned on you as you started up the staircase to your hall, he wanted this just as much as you did and you knew it... you could use that against him.
Reaching your door, you slowed down, pulling the key out of your handbag. It was a cliche move but in your short dress? It was going to work marvelously. You let the key slip from your fingers smoothly, bending over at the waist in the most obvious way possible just to pick it up. You could practically hear the breath that caught in his throat, and you smiled to yourself knowing you got him back.
Unlocking the door and turning the handle, you were surprised when two hands quickly rushed you inside, pushing you against the wall and slamming the door behind him.
“I thought you were going to leave me?” You challenged slightly, his jaw clenching again.
“I never said that, I just said I was taking you home,” He corrected, standing still extremely close to you. “What’s with the brattiness?”
“I’m upset you didn’t kiss me. Tease me up like that, and then just pull away... dick move Parker,” You furrowed your eyebrows slightly.
“You know my reasoning,” He was quick to respond, eyes darting to your lips and back.
“And you know mine.”
He paused only for a moment before he brought his head down to your ear and you felt the nervousness coming back again, his breath fanned over your neck and you could smell his mahogany cologne.
“You’re really good at making me lose all control, you know that?” He whispered against the shell of your ear. You didn’t answer, swallowing thickly at the feeling, suddenly not having the courage you had before. “Aw, what? Nothing to say, I thought you were doing great at teasing all night... I guess it’s my turn huh?”
You felt your breath quicken at the words, your thighs rubbing against each other to provide some sort of friction. You wanted him, your body wanted him... and he was using it against you.
“Tell me that you still want me.”
You hesitated only for a second, feeling him place a small kiss on your neck.
“I need you, Peter,” You breathed out quickly, not willing to brat or put up a fight anymore.
“That’s exactly what I needed to hear,” He smiled before crashing his lips into yours. Sparks flew throughout your body as you kept feeling yourself get hotter and hotter. He wasn’t soft and sweet like you would expect Peter to be, but passionate and lustful, and you were loving this side of him. When he pushed his tongue in your mouth, you could taste the peach flavor that had started this whole thing.
His hands tangled into your hair as you kicked your shoes off, him doing the same, while you ran your own fingers into his soft curls. He was guiding you to your room, pushing you onto the bed while you cleared off the pillows and stuffed animals, too distracted to be embarrassed. He was on you again quickly, caging your body in with his, hands hesitating to touch you at first, but finding their place at your hips.
He didn’t stay at your lips for long, his mouth trailing down the side of your neck with soft kisses. You let out soft moans to the delicate feeling of his warm lips being so gentle with his caresses, sometimes sucking just enough to leave a mark. He continued this process slowly diving into the crook of your shoulder, and onto your collarbone, while slowly sliding his hands up the bottom of your dress.
He looked up at you for permission, to which you nodded eagerly. He pulled up the dress, you arching and helping to lift over your head. He stopped for a moment just to look, adoration and lust clouding his every feature.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” He smiled to himself, almost prideful, before going to kiss at your cleavage. Your face was burning hot from the compliment, and you were sure if he had stared only a second longer you would have curled in on yourself out of embarrassment. But you were soon distracted by his lips again, nipping and sucking on your breasts.
“This is convenient, did you wear this for me princess?” He played at your front clasping bra but didn’t give you the time to affirm your innocence, settling on his own decision. “Planning this all along, what a dirty little girl.”
The words heated your face even more as you squirmed, getting desperate to be touched somewhere more dire. But Peter was slow, unclipping and setting your breasts free for his eyes. He groaned slightly, before using both his mouth and hands to tease and play with your nipples. You squirmed and moaned beneath him, slowly getting more and more soaked.
“So. So. So. Pretty.” He said in between kisses, making you blush yet again. “My pretty girl.”
You loved that he said “my” without hesitation, yet couldn’t focus for long as he moved from your breasts to your tummy. He placed soft hovering kisses, making you whimper at the soft tickling sensation, wishing he’d go just a bit faster. When he finally made it to the edge of your panties, he used his teeth to lift the waistband before snapping it back onto your skin.
You thought that was going to be when he pulled your underwear off, but you groaned as he skipped over your sensitive spot, moving to your thighs sucking and kissing sharply. You were squirming now as the need for any sort of touch increased, the pressure in your stomach was becoming painful.
“Peter, please...” You squirmed, weaving your fingers in his hair. “Please, please, please.”
“Please what baby? Use your words” He smirked slightly, loving the fact that you were begging and whimpering for him.
“Please touch me,” You whimpered slightly, as his grip on your thighs tightened to keep you from trying to get some friction. He was really enjoying all the control he had over you and was reveling in every squirm and moan.
“I am touching you,” He placed a kiss right next to your underwear, causing you to shiver, “you’re going to have to be more specific.”
“I don’t want to say it,” You felt your face heat up quickly, “it’s embarrassing.”
“Well then, I’ll just keep going at my own pace,” He smirked letting his breath fan over your clothed clit, before moving to your thighs again, sucking in what was sure to be a deep hickey. You whimpered in annoyance and embarrassment, before giving in, unable to take another minute.
“Please, touch my pussy,” You almost had to choke out that last word, covering your face with your hands. It made you so flustered saying something like that, you could barely even stutter out the rest of your pleading. “Peter, I need you, I can’t take it anymore.”
“Such a good girl for me,” He smiled at your embarrassment, loving the revenge for your defiant attitude earlier. You switched tones so quickly for him, and it made his head spin he loved it so much. The sound of the nickname sent a shock of arousal hit your core, as the pressure in your stomach only pushed further.
He slid off your panties slowly, letting the cold air hit your labia.
“Princess, you are soaking wet for me. You poor thing, so, so, so, needy,” He placed a kiss to your cunt, eventually giving you what you had begged so nicely for. You let out pornographic moans as he started sucking and licking at your clit, eventually covering your mouth to keep quiet. When he heard the sounds of your muffled groans, he pulled up quickly making you huff at the loss of contact you just got.
“Don’t cover your mouth sweetheart, I want to hear you,” He reprimanded slightly, moving back into his previous position when you moved your hand back down. You tried to keep quiet letting out whimpers and small moans, while Peter held your hips down in order to keep you still.
“Peter,” You moaned his name and that only made him pick up the pace. He was incredibly talented with his mouth and you could feel the coil wrapping tighter in your stomach. You curled your toes, one hand gripping on to Peter’s curls, while the other was gripping on the sheets.
“I’m going to cum, I’m so close,” You let out in between quick breaths. It was then that he took one hand, easily inserting one finger while using his thumb to press against your clit. You missed his mouth, but you were so close to the edge the new feeling almost pushed you over.
“Do you think you deserve for me to let you cum? Hm? Only good girls get that pleasure,” He teased, watching how your eyes scrunched up in euphoria at his vulgar words and movements.
“Oh, God- I’m going to-” You started to say before Peter interrupted, removing his thumb quickly. You whined slightly in response as it pushed your finish back.
“You’re not going to cum unless I say so. Just a few more seconds princess, tell me how much you deserve this,” He was stern at first, moving into a more encouraging voice.
“Please, I’ve been good- I- I will be good, god please,” You let words tumble out of your lips, unsure you could even say a full sentence.
“My good little slut. Okay baby, go ahead. Cum for me.” He moved his mouth back down to your pussy, while still fingering you at a comfortable pace. His permission had your orgasm rocking your body in seconds, your body shaking as a wave of pleasure seemed to drown you, a loud moan escaping your lips.
Peter let you ride it out on his fingers, as your legs were shivering beside his head. Slowly catching your breath you watched as he took his shirt and pants off, the sight of his hot body and the tent in his boxers could’ve sent you into a second O. He then crawled up to your face again, letting his swollen pink lips caress your mouth. You could taste yourself on his lips as he gently pressed his mouth against your own, humming into the sweet kiss.
“You don’t taste like peaches anymore,” You smiled lovingly, letting your hand caress his cheek.
“You taste so much better anyway,” He pecked you again, letting his hands grab yours. “Are you ready?”
You nodded as he slipped off his boxers causing your eyes to widen slightly. You knew his powers gave him certain perks but you weren’t expecting something so impressive, your mouth watered a little bit at the thought of getting to return the favor from earlier. He smiled a little bit at your reaction, lining himself up against your entrance.
He didn’t enter you right away, just rubbing himself against you, your hips bucking slightly when he brushed against your swollen clit. He was teasing again, and you were feeling too sensitive to continue with his antics much longer.
“Peter quite, I- I’m too-” You started, interrupting yourself with a gasp as he pushed himself inside you. You could feel how big he was, and even him partially being in provided a little bit of pain. You weren’t very experienced in sex anyway, but even if you were he would have easily made you feel full.
“Holy fuck, you feel even better than I could have even imagined,” He practically growled out. He was slow, letting you get used to the feeling but your eyes still brimmed with tears as you let out little whimpers of the feeling.
“Peter- oh my god, I don’t think-” You started, too embarrassed to finish the sentence.
“I’ll fit baby. Your pussy feels too good, I’ll make it fit,” He was loving, placing little kisses along your neck until he bottomed out, leaving you feeling full to the brim. He tried to hold himself back, letting you get used to the feeling, but the urge to start moving overran his caring side.
He rocked back and forth slowly, moans and curses tumbling from his lips along with short sweet praises.
“Such a good girl, taking my whole cock. Fuck, you feel so good,” He entangled both your hands in his so that you couldn’t touch him. You were grateful for the gesture because you couldn’t even think about anything else besides the way his length was slowly getting faster inside your tight cunt.
“Peter” You pitifully moaned, unable to think about anything but him and how good you were feeling. He was fucking you dumb and had only barely started, and he was loving the effect he had on you.
He was trying to be gentle but it was just so hard, he wanted to ram into you at full pace, giving him the pleasure he craved. But he knew his full speed would hurt you, so he held back knowing he’d have to train that little pussy so he could fuck you hard, over time. The bed frame was rocking into the wall now, and you knew the neighboring dorm would be sure to complain as your breathless moans filled the room.
Going faster, you could barely take it, knowing the coil in your stomach was already building up at a rapid pace. His grip moved to your wrists, and the rough hold made your moans even louder while his own grunts were battling for volume. You could feel the sweat on each other's bodies, while you met his hips, attempting to not be totally useless despite it already being enough with just his thrusts.
“There you go princess, so needy for my cock,” He almost whimpered, pulling his head closer to your ear. In a gruff tone, hit bit your lobe and grumbled a promise. “I’m going to use this little cunt, until you can’t even think about being with anyone else. You’ll belong to me, this pussy will be mine, and your thoughts will be only of how I ruin you.”
The words seemed to send your brain into a frenzy, his pace picking up to a bruising speed as your breath got even faster. You knew you were both getting close as his pace got more sloppy, and needy. He let his hands fall to your breasts, squeezing and playing with them as he lifted your legs onto his shoulders.
He was ramming into the perfect spot now, his moans getting more desperate and you felt like you could barely breathe. The feeling was overwhelming as his body pressed into yours, merciless and brutal, yet his gaze was soft and loving, his lips parting with each thrust. He threw his head back slightly, his curls falling to the side of his face as he knew he was getting close.
“Peter! Ah, I’m going to- holy shit, I’m gonna-” You started rambling, the coil in your stomach reaching another tight ball.
“Don’t fucking cum yet, come on baby, wait for me,” He urged, his hands moving down to your waist. He only could think about how your walls felt so good around him, and how your skin was soft beneath his skin. He squeezed his fingers into your flesh, and you knew there would be bruises afterward, him not realizing the level of roughness he was using on you. “You’re so fucking sensitive, shit.”
You tried to head his command, holding onto the edge as long as possible, but your body just couldn’t take it anymore. You brought your hands to his shoulders, gripping tightly as your toes curled into your feet. Electricity seemed to shoot through your frame as your orgasm ripped through you, causing your whole body to convulse slightly.
“F-fuck,” Peter grumbled, your hole rhythmically squeezing him into his own release. He couldn’t even think while his body shuddered, his own release filling you up and his breaths ragged. Your pornographic moans mixed with his while you both kept riding it out, slowly beginning to feel overstimulated. When he finally pulled out, your hips bucked at the feeling, your pussy now too sensitive to take anything else.
“Holy s-shit,” You giggled slightly, your whole body shaking and feeling weak. You knew you weren’t going to be able to get up as Peter collapsed beside you. He recovered quicker than you had expected, his breaths returning to normal, and you discovered that his hair wasn’t even sweaty as you ran your fingers through it. You knew your stray baby hairs were stuck to your forehead, but your body was still twitching from the feeling of being fucked into oblivion, so you didn’t really care how you looked.
Not having the energy to even roll over Peter got up without a word to get a warm, damp, washcloth. He wiped off your slick that covered your thighs, and his own cum that was leaking down your folds. You whined a little bit at the feeling, your body to sensitive to really handle his soft movements, but he let out soft little coos and praises until he was done. It was then he noticed the bruises and marks he had littered over your body, his face hardening slightly at the clear mark of his fingertips on your hips.
Moving back up to you he pulled you into his chest, holding you tight and placing kisses on your head. You rolled into him, gently closing your thighs together as to not make yourself buck again, and placing your own small kisses into his chest.
“You did so good baby, I-” He stopped himself, swallowing thickly, “I didn’t mean to be so rough.”
“It’s alright, I don’t mind a bit of manhandling,” You smiled and looked into his eyes. He still seemed concerned about you, so you kissed him on the lips. “I promise I’m okay, I actually like it. You’d know if I was uncomfortable.”
“You’re too good for me,” He chuckled slightly. You were too perfect, too understanding.
“I thought I was a criminal?” You referred to the earlier drinking, making him roll his eyes.
“I’m too tired to bring you in tonight... You’ll get what’s coming to you eventually,” He fake glared at you, making you let out a small laugh.
“Promise to tie me up?” You let the blush settle on your cheeks, unable to hide your smitten smirk.
He smiled then, pulling you back into his shoulder, letting the smell of your hair surround him.
“You dirty girl,” He teased.
“You rough spider,” You smiled, happier than you’ve ever been.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know if you'd like a part two, of the scene which Peter has promised to give "-what's coming to you," it will definitely show more Dom!peter. Thanks for reading :)
see now if i was a person who can produce a sensible one shot in a smatter of hours what i would be doing now is write a fic where, after the canada gp, after a stupid long debrief and an awkward team dinner, lily texts lando to come up to their room.
lily, yes, because she's the one who orchestrated their arrangement in the first place, and because lando always worries he's intruding on her and oscar's time together when she attends races.
so she texts lando and after some hesitating lando does eventually drag himself to their room--reluctant not because he doesn't want to go, but because he doesn't feel he deserves it.
and when he knocks, lily opens the door, with the sweetest, softest smile on her face, and oscar's just behind her, freshly showered, and lily pulls lando inside the room, and oscar's there to put a hand on the small of his back and guide him towards the bed.
the bed where they all lie down together, and where oscar opens lando up while lando eats lily out, and where oscar then fucks lando, slow and deep, while lando fucks lily at the same languid rhythm, and where they kiss, and hold one another, and eventually come, and just lie in a pile of sticky limbs and blissed out smiles.
unfortunately, i'm a slow ass writer and this fic will not happen but you can imagine it if you want. i swear it'd be good.
plagued by thoughts of landoscar reuniting in france yesterday.
lando getting to the track in the afternoon just to watch oscar drive, both of them vibrating out of their skin because of they can't find a moment to be alone until later that night at the hotel. lando doesn't even let oscar shower; he likes the smell of petrol, burnt rubber and exertion on him. they fall into bed and have sweet and tender "i missed you but i can't say it so i'll just show it to you" sex until they're both too tired to keep their eyes open and fall asleep tangled together, naked and sticky. and if either of them makes a little drowsy confession right before falling asleep, it'll be forgotten by the time they wake and rediscover each other a little more.
Another week, another tag game! Please share a bit from your recent WIP; or, if you don’t have one, share a plot bunny or idea! (OR sketch for your artwork!)
thank you @prettysureimlost for the tag. i usually don't share wips 'cause i'm afraid to jinx myself but this time i will 'cause the one i worked on last, i reopened because of your comment on down on you. so like,, you're directly responsible for this. [nsfw so under the cut]
no pressure tags for @chiliconsharls, @sevynchaos, @brushedbymelancholy and @alboinz if you want to do this!
It’s not very hard to do that, really, when he moves to kiss down her neck while his nimble fingers make quick work of unbuttoning her blouse. With every inch of skin he reveals, he moves further down, until he finds the curve of her breasts and follows it towards the centre of her chest. Through full-body shivers, she watches him sink his face between her tits, take a deep sniff of her clammy skin. Then, in one swift movement, he pulls down one side of her bra, strap and cup, and gets his mouth on her breast.
“Fuck,” she breathes out as he flicks his tongue around her nipple, one of her hands flying to the back of his head, sinking in his impossibly soft hair, while the other grabs the doorknob and leans on it for stability.
His stupidly massive eyes shimmer with amusement when he looks up at her, and she wishes she was annoyed at it, but there’s really no room for anything other than lust within her when he sucks on her nipple. She gasps loudly, her back arching away from the door and her head slamming back against it. When she meets his eyes again, feeling distantly self-conscious about her own reaction, she finds them dark with hunger. She doesn’t know what her face is doing, but whatever it is, it makes his grip on her tighten, one of his hands on her waist and the other on her hip.
It might be the alcohol, it might be that she’s gone months without it, but right now she can’t remember wanting anything as much as she wants him to fuck her.
