#roy kent x f1! reader

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Shut Up and Drive (Chapter 9)

Roy Kent x F1 Driver!Reader

2.2k words

Warnings: Language, fingering, oral, unprotected sex, shower sex

Series Masterlist

You woke up to the feeling of rough fingers stroking your inner thigh. When you stirred, you felt Roy’s bare chest pressed against your back, reminding you that you were in Richmond, in Roy Kent’s bed, wearing the black t-shirt he’d handed you after what felt like hours of rolling around together. With a sleepy smile you nuzzled closer to him, noting the lingering smell of sex and the fact that it was still dark outside, the room lit only by the moon; it must be pretty damn early in the morning.

“What time is it?” you whispered. Roy’s fingers dug gently into your soft skin when he realized you were awake too. “D’you have to go meet Jamie soon?” Roy had warned you about his early mornings with the striker just after your arrival; Roy leaving and taking his warmth with him each morning definitely wasn’t something you were looking forward to.

His grip on you tightened. “Not until I’ve had some fucking breakfast,” Roy growled before planting a deep kiss to your neck, his tongue gliding over your skin and sending a shiver down your spine. “And I know exactly what I want to eat.”

In a flash, Roy rolled you onto your back and pinned you down beneath him. He pressed a sloppy kiss to your lips, cherishing the surprised little squeak you let out against his mouth. When you wrapped your arms around his neck and gently rolled your hips against his, he knew you were awake enough for him to keep going. Chuckling, he made his way down your jaw and neck, planting kiss after kiss after kiss, leaving a sloppy trail behind. He carelessly tugged up the black t-shirt you wore as he disappeared under the blankets and continued his path down the valley of your breasts, pausing to give you attention there. He took his time swirling each nipple in his mouth and teasing each little bud with his teeth, eliciting soft sighs from you. He continued kissing and licking down your tummy, stopping only once he reached the material of your quickly dampening panties. He slowly slid them down your thighs with a content grunt, exposing your slightly aching cunt to his hot breath.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he sighed before pressing a soft kiss to your entrance.

Your back arched as you spread your legs with a soft moan, allowing Roy to get into a comfortable position between your thighs, probably his favorite place to be. With a satisfied hum, he swirled your clit with his tongue, long, slow stokes that had your tired body already tensing up.

“Roy,” you groaned, gazing down at his blanket-covered form. Your mind was still waking up as you reached under the covers to let your fingers run through his curls and pushed his face deeper between your legs, squirming at the feeling of his beard against your soft skin.

Understanding your request, Roy moved from your clit to your entrance, teasing you with greedy, open-mouthed kisses to your slit. You gasped when you felt his fingers join his tongue, grazing your lips and parting them slowly. When his fingers began inching into you, exploring your wetness at a painfully sluggish pace, you threw your head back and let your hips buck up towards his face. As he slowly began pumping in and out, Roy returned his mouth to your clit, licking and sucking at your sweet little bundle of nerves like the treat it was.

Roy wished he could wake up like this every morning. He loved the way you sounded, panting sleepily and murmuring his name adoringly as you wriggled on his bed, a bed that you absolutely belonged in. You didn’t need to know that he’d set a quiet alarm to wake him up extra early so he could give you this little gift before he had to leave for his morning training, or that the alarm was set to go off every morning of your visit. All you needed to know was how good he wanted to make you feel.

“Fuck,” you groaned as your hips lifted off the bed. “Roy, fuck, I’m gonna come.”

He thrust his fingers deeper into you, the pads of his fingers dragging along your walls as he hit that perfect little spot inside you, the perfect little spot he knew well now. “Then fucking come for me, gorgeous,” he begged from under the covers, his tongue flicking roughly against your throbbing little bud. “Gimme something yummy.”

With a strangled moan, you grinded your hips against his face as your walls tightened around his digits. Your vision went white as your high overcame you, just pleasurable enough to avoid being painful after the four orgasms Roy had already given you the night before. By the end of your visit, he decided, he’d be coaxing orgasms of you by the double digits each day. He was already keeping a running count in his mind, wondering how many he’d have from you by the end of the month; his mouth was watering at the thought.

“Too much,” you whined, squeezing his head between your thighs. “Roy, it’s too fucking much.”

He tsked with mock sympathy, barely taking his tongue away from your heat. “Just let me finish my breakfast, darling.”

As you bucked against him, Roy moved his mouth from your clit to devour your release, creating lewd and pornographic sounds beneath the covers. He gripped your hip tightly with his free hand to keep you from wiggling away from his greedy tongue as he lapped up your juices. You resigned yourself to the overwhelming pleasure, letting your legs fall wide open, letting them twitch and spasm with every flick of Roy’s togue, not caring that your high-pitched moans were approaching volumes that would probably wake Roy’s neighbors. All that mattered now was the earth-shattering high Roy gave you as his fingers and tongue attacked your soaking cunt, waking up every inch of your body in ways you’d never felt before.

After what felt like the longest orgasm of your life, Roy pulled out his fingers; you could hear him suck them dry, moaning as he savored the last little taste of you. He slowly crawled up your body, his face emerging from the tangled blankets with a wicked grin.

“Perfect way to wake up,” he murmured before kissing your lips, smearing your face with the slick that now covered his smile. “Fucking breakfast of champions.”

Slowly, you recovered your ability to speak in complete sentences. “Well, where’s my breakfast then?” you hummed, wrapping your legs around his hips and grinding against him, the bulge in his boxers throbbing against your aching core. Despite the exhaustion you felt, you were more than ready for the next round.

To your utter surprise, Roy shook his head. “Gotta go meet fucking Tartt,” he groaned, sounding more disappointed than you felt. “But when I get back-” He pressed a tender kiss to your nose. “-I’ll have to take a nice long shower before I get ready for work. Could use some company.” Another kiss found your swollen lips. “You interested?”

You nodded eagerly, your voice unrecognizably breathy. “Yes, yeah, definitely.”

“Good.” Roy pressed a slow kiss to your neck, cherishing the way you whined, tempting him to forget about training and stay in bed all day. “You get some rest, babe.” He gave one more roll of his hips, chuckling at the way your body jolted at the movement. “You’re gonna fucking need it.”

~

“There, Roy! Fuck, right there!” Your voice was positively wrecked as Roy pressed your body against the glass door of his shower, thrusting into you roughly.

Even the sound of the running shower couldn’t drown out the lewd sounds of skin on skin as Roy’s cock rammed against that perfect spot deep inside you. “My fucking empress,” he groaned, mouth attacking your neck, licking up the drops of sweat mixed with hot water. “Taking me so fucking well. Think you can gimme one more?”

When Roy had returned from training, he’d immediately dragged you into the shower, where his deft fingers charmed a second orgasm out of you before he finally gave you the one thing you really wanted. And now, with the hot water scalding your skin deliciously, you were ready for your third high before it was even seven a.m.

“Anything you want,” you panted, rocking back against his hips. “Give you anything you want.”

“Everything I want’s right here,” he murmured against your neck. One hand gripped your hip tightly while the other groped at your breast. “Right fucking here.”

The warmth that nestled in your heart was almost immediately overshadowed by the heat between your legs. You cried out, hand slapping against the shower door, as your legs threatened to give out. Roy only pressed further into you, determined to keep you upright as his own orgasm approached. With a couple of hungry thrusts, his cock gave a thunderous twitch before flooding you with his release. He stilled for a moment, pressing adoring kisses to your wet hair before gently pulling out. You groaned softly at the empty feeling, and again when you felt his release drip down your thighs, mixing with the hot water of the shower.

Roy chuckled and wrapped you in a hug, trailing kisses down your face. “You,” he huffed, “are so fucking perfect, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you hummed, turning your body to face him. “D’you have time for a real breakfast before work?”

Once the two of you were dried off and dressed, Roy led you down to the kitchen, insisting on making you something to eat rather than letting you offer to cook. So instead, you leaned against the counter, watching him scramble eggs and heat up sausages and prepare you a cup of tea.

He quirked an eyebrow at you as you sipped your tea. “What were you thinking of getting up to today?” he asked, genuine interest in his voice. You tried to remember the last time a man was so attentive to what you had to say.

You shrugged, cocking your head at him. “Not sure,” you admitted with a shrug. “Was thinking I’d just hang out here all day. Relax a bit. Maybe have some dinner ready when you get home.” You wrapped your arms around his middle and smiled coyly at him. “What d’you think?”

Roy smirked down at you and kissed the top of your head. “Oi, you’re my guest, you’re not fucking cooking for me.”

“What’s the matter? Afraid you’ll discover I’m a better cook than you are?” you teased, running your hand down his chest.

“Watch it,” Roy warned playfully; you wondered if he was talking about your teasing words or your roaming hands. “Maybe in a couple days you could come down to Nelson Road with me. Come see the guys train. They’d get a fucking kick out of seeing you.”

And so it was all planned. In a couple of days, you’d visit Nelson Road, claiming to want to see your team in action (you had, after all, recently acquired those shares Rebecca was hoping you’d buy). You’d tell everyone you were just looking for a quiet break, away from Monaco, and that you were staying at a posh hotel not too far from Roy’s house; this provided you with the perfect excuse to have Roy chauffer you around. He even offered to let you drive his Mercedes from time to time if you wanted to, something he’d never offered a woman before; even Keeley had never been behind the wheel of the black monstrosity he called a car.

“You know those pricks are going to invite you fucking everywhere,” Roy warned you as the two of you finished up the breakfast he made. “Matches, dinner at Sam’s place, the clubs.” He rolled his eyes. “Half of them are obsessed with shagging you, and the other half are obsessed with getting me to shag you.”

You giggled and sipped your orange juice. “I’m looking forward to seeing the Greyhounds try to play matchmaker.” You reached out and gave Roy’s hand a squeeze. “Almost as much as I’m looking forward to going home with you after every outing.”

He smiled, looking something close to bashful. “Yeah, well.” He cleared his throat and glanced at his watch. “I should be heading out soon. Don’t want to be too late to work.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to your lips before grabbing your empty plate. “I’ll just handle these-”

“I’ve got them,” you assured him, tugging the plates out of his hand. “You just get going.” Before he could protest, you stood and carried the plates to the kitchen sink, pretending that the absolute domesticity of it all didn’t both trill and terrify you.

Roy followed you, a tiny smile playing on his lips as he watched you collect the dishes from the stove. “Oi, you want to walk me out?”

You didn’t need any prompting to move away from the sink and take Roy’s outstretched hand. He kissed your knuckles as you accompanied him to the front door, where his work bag was already waiting for him.

“I won’t be back until close to six,” he reminded you in the foyer. “Gotta fucking train with Tartt after work.” He rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t almost enjoy his time with the man that he refused to call his best friend. “But once I’m back, I’m all yours,” he promised.

“All mine,” you echoed, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull his face down to yours. “I like the sound of that.” The kiss you pressed to his lips again had him considering calling in sick, especially when you gave a little suck to his bottom lip.

He groaned as you pulled away. “Fucking hell,” he rasped. “Five-thirty. I’ll be home at five-fucking-thirty.”

You laughed and gave Roy a little shove. “Guess it’s lucky for Jamie that you’re getting lucky.”

Roy’s thick eyebrows flew up in joyful surprise. “Oh, am I getting lucky tonight, then?”

“We’ll see.” You pressed another kiss to his lips, a longer, lingering one now. His hands found their home on your hips, tugging you flush against him, both of you forgetting all about Roy being on time for work. You finally pulled back, eyes sparkling with affection and lust. “Hurry home, Kent,” you hummed, opening the door for him. “Hurry home.”

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[dpr-stay]

Masterlist

Is there a high chance I won’t ever add to this again? Mayyyybe :) but I want to make one lol

** my favs

F1:

Whoops - Yuki Tsunoda x driver!Reader**

The Moon - Chef Au! Yuki Tsunoda x Reader

Super-Fan - Max Verstappen x badminton player!Reader

Cupid - Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Shadow - Fernando Alonso x Wolff! Reader

Love Lost! - Lando Norris x Reader

Dino Slippers and Wooden Cabins - Charles Leclerc x reader

Stray Kids:

Peaceful Future - Bangchan x idol!Reader

Exo:

Through the years - Kyungsoo x driver!Reader**

Nct:

No Longer - Johnny x singer!Reader

Ted Lasso:

The Power of Old Ladies - Roy Kent x Reader

Genshin Impact:

Good Taste in Wine - Diluc x Reader

Lovefool - Diluc x Reader

JJK

Nanami Drabble Nanami X Reader

[agentstarkid]

@onceuponaoneshotfanfic and I having a normal conversation when suddenly...

Tally: I know nothing about F1 so I'm researching and looking up the race weekend schedule so I can write your Roy Kent x driver!reader request...

Me: *trying so hard not to word-vomit about this so called "pinnacle of motorsports" so I can pretend I only like F1 a normal amount and am definitely not obsessed a psychotic amount*

I failed biiiig time lmao but in my defense she already knew I'm beyond salvation, I was just trying to down-play it a little bit 😂

Tally reading my long ass paragraphs about the gossips, Dando, Piarles and why we hate McLaren:

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Champion. Goddess. Empress.

She's been driving Roy Kent mad from afar for a while now. But once they finally cross paths, they're both in danger of crashing into love.

Roy Kent x F1 Driver! Reader

A collab with @agentstarkid ❤️

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10- Coming Soon!

Join the Taglist!

Moodboards by @agentstarkid

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Shut Up and Drive (Chapter 6)

Roy Kent x F1 Driver!Reader

4.9k words

Warnings: Language, mean & jealous Roy (in a good way), evil ex-boyfriend, rough sex, Roy feeling angsty, fingering, some cum play, hickies, Roy being kind of a dom

@agentstarkid brain rot, brain rot, brain rot

A/N: Y'all this has to be THE horniest writing I have ever done 😭

Series Masterlist

“Hey Roy, you going to Belgium?”

Roy furrowed his brows at Isaac as the captain, Jamie, and Sam all looked at him expectantly “Belgium?” he repeated.

Sam nodded. “For the race,” he added, as if Roy should know exactly what he was talking about.

The manager’s deepening frown told the boys that he did not.

Jamie sighed impatiently. “Your girlfriend, Grandad. We’re going to go watch her. She was telling us all about it in Leeds, and then when she was in Richmond, she gave Keeley the tickets and stuff to give Isaac. You’re going, aren’t ya?”

Belgium. Roy’s stomach sank a little as the guys began chattering about their plans, how excited they were to watch the race, the parties they’d been promised. He knew you had another race coming up, but you hadn’t mentioned a word of it to him. Of course, if you’d asked, he’d have gone. The Greyhounds had a bye that weekend, meaning he was completely free to go, to root for you, to share another bottle of scotch in some extravagant hotel suite. It would make sense for you to ask him to go; after all, he was clearly interested in racing, and, more importantly, he was clearly more interested in you. He’d tried not to read too much into the lack of invitation; but fuck, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping for a simple hey, come meet me in Belgium during one of the many texts you’d sent him.

And now, hearing that you’d explicitly excited his team… well fuck.

“Come with us, Roy,” Isaac insisted.

He cleared his throat, desperately trying to play it off. “Dunno. Probably got Phoebe, need to catch up on shit at home-”

Another sigh from Jamie. “Come on, Coach. Just admit you want to see your girlfriend and fuckin’ come with us!”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Roy hadn’t meant for it to come off as a harsh growl, but that’s definitely what came out of his mouth. “Once again, we barely fucking know each other.”

The smirk on Jamie’s face was nothing short of punchable. “Then why d’you text her all the damn time?”

“Do not,” Roy lied.

Of all the players, Sam was one of the last Roy would’ve expected to tease him. “You’re blushing, Roy.”

He rolled his eyes, dying to get out of this conversation. “If I agree to come,” he mumbled. “Will you all shut the fuck up?

The three players looked at each other before breaking into a trio of mischievous grins.

Finally, Isaac opened his mouth. “No promises.”

~

Roy Kent looked good.

Who were you kidding? Roy Kent always looked good. Your mouth was practically watering as you watched him chat with the Greyhounds he stood with in the garage, rolling his eyes at something one of them said.

So, you hadn’t actually invited Roy to come to your race, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t hoping he’d be there. After all, when you’d sent Keeley the tickets for the boys, you’d included an extra one, encouraging Isaac to invite “whoever”. Knowing Jamie had been teasing Roy about you, you knew exactly who they’d be bringing.

Watching his eyes dart around, obviously looking for you, you couldn’t resist the urge to go over and say hi. The two of you had fallen asleep on the phone a couple more times since that phone call, there’d been lots of texts sent back and forth, and Roy was even figuring out how to send selfies. And now he was here, in Belgium, surprising you. Tearing down that wall you’d built around your heart, brick by brick.

Feeling a bit like a teenage girl approaching the most popular boy in school, you turned around, so Roy wouldn’t see the way you tightened the knot of your half-down racing suit and lifted your shirt a smidge to give that little peek of skin. After giving your hair a quick touch, you turned around, ready to put on that confident smirk and go say-

“Hey there.”

Your face completely fell at the sight of that horribly gorgeous smile. “Ian,” you murmured, taking a step back, away from your ex-boyfriend, who you were sure hadn’t been in a paddock in about a year, let alone less than a foot away from you like he was now. “What’re you doing here?”

His smile widened, planting a knot in your stomach. “Here to see you, of course.”

“Oh.” Your eyes flickered over his shoulder, where you could see Roy beginning to turn his head a bit more obviously, growing anxious to see you already. “Well, thanks.”

Thankfully, one of your engineers, familiar with the panicked look that Ian Novak’s beautiful face often inspired, hustled over with some excuse to get you away from the model. As you let yourself be led away, you turned your gaze, finally locking eyes with Roy Kent. The corner of his perfect mouth ticked upwards as he offered a small nod in greeting, eyebrows raised playfully. Normally, the sight would have you pressing your thighs together and thinking of all the sinful things you wanted to do with him. Instead, you looked away from those brown eyes as quickly as you could.

Fuck. Roy Kent could hurt you, couldn’t he? If Ian Novak, devilish man he was, could manage to make you feel adored and comfortable enough that the heartbreak he gifted you was the most devastating pain you could imagine, what was Roy Kent, with his soft brown eyes and half smiles and hands that both excited and cherished you, capable of? How shattered would you be if he decided he was done with you?

Maybe you didn’t want to find out.

~

For the millionth time that weekend, Roy wondered what he’d done wrong. All he’d received from you was a quick hello when the guys insisted on going to say hey to you. No flirting. No bedroom eyes. No electric touches. And definitely no teasing implications about ending up in bed together.

Not exactly what he’d expected.

He kept trying to catch your eye when the two of you were in the same room, but you kept looking away every time he succeeded. This wasn’t the behavior of someone excited to see him, and especially not the behavior of someone looking forward to sleeping with him.

As he lost track of his beers and contemplated leaving the party being held to celebrate your win, he saw Jamie perk up, his eyes flickering between Roy and somewhere behind him. Before Jamie could give him a warning, Roy turned around.

It was like someone’d punched him and knocked the fucking wind out of him. There you were, stunning in a Ferrari-red dress and matching lipstick, looking up at some disgustingly pretty man, who gazed at you like, well, like how Roy looked at you. He turned back to Jamie, immediately hating the pitiful look on the striker’s face.

“That’s her ex-boyfriend,” Jamie murmured, taking a sip of his own beer. “Model.”

“The one that fucking cheated on her?”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “For ‘barely know each other’ you sure know a good bit about her, Roy. Maybe-”

Roy scowled. “Keeley talks too much,” he mumbled before taking a long swig of his beer. He looked over his shoulder again; that man’s hand was on your lower back, where Roy’s hand should have been. “Looks like a prick,” he huffed.

“Oh, he definitely is,” Jamie agreed. “And that’s me saying that. Not sure why she’d give him the time of day.” He punched Roy’s arm playfully. “Especially with Roy Kent in the room.”

After rolling his eyes at Jamie’s compliment, Roy nodded towards the door that led to the hallway connecting the venue to the rest of the hotel. “Going to get some air,” he muttered, ignoring the protests of his players.

Because he was so busy skulking off, Roy missed watching you with your ex.

“What are you doing?” you hissed, shoving Ian’s hand off of your waist. “In case you’ve forgotten, we broke up, remember?”

His lopsided smile was too familiar. “Just congratulating you on a job well done. You were great today, babe.”

Babe. When Roy Kent called you that, it’d made your heart- and something else- flutter. But when Ian Novak called you that, it made your blood run cold. You reached out and pushed him further away.

“I’m not your babe.”

Slipping away from the embrace he tried, you briskly left the party venue, eyes stinging as you made your way to the deserted hallway. Who cared if you’d won and were the guest of honor? All you wanted was to get up to your room, get out of this dress, put on-

Roy’s eyes locked onto yours. He was in that same hallway, leaning against a wall and looking like the dictionary definition of melancholy. His stupid old heart nearly stopped at the sight of you, then twisted when he saw all the hurt your eyes carried. He pushed himself up off the wall as you got closer, your hands fidgeting; he wasn’t used to seeing you so… gloomy.

“’s wrong with you?” he muttered once you were standing in front of him. “Boyfriend problems?”

Your frown deepened. “Boyfriend…?” It dawned on you. “Oh, fuck. Ian.”

Roy nodded, his eyes practically made of steel. “Yeah. Ian,” he spat. “What, you get sick of him already?” He knew he sounded jealous and resentful, two things he wasn’t sure he had the right to be. But he didn’t care; not when he’d come all this way just to see you with some other prick.

“Listen,” you sighed. “Roy-”

He shook his head, not caring if you saw the hurt and anger in his eyes. “No. It’s fine. I fucking get it.” He gulped. “He’s a model. His knees probably fucking work. Probably even knows how to smile.” He cleared his throat. “Stupid, coming to fucking Belgium,” he mumbled. “You didn’t even fucking want me here.”

“I did,” you yelped, probably quicker and louder than you should have. “I mean, I do. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Funny way of showing it,” he grunted, not letting you see the way your words had his heart hammering. No, Roy was still pissed. “Ignoring me all fucking weekend.”

You nodded, face aflame. “Yeah. No, that’s true.” You took a tentative step towards Roy. “But I’m glad you’re here. Really glad,” you insisted as you pressed your body to his, eyebrows raised meaningfully.

“Yeah. Well.” He averted his gaze, knowing that the familiar look in your eye would have him dropping this little resentment.

“Roy,” you cooed, letting your hands wander up his chest, not caring if someone walked by and saw you embracing the brooding manager. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

Oof. Apparently that was not the thing to say based on the fiery look in his eye. But you’d be lying if you said it didn’t excite you, especially when he reached up to grab your jaw.

“Jealous?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “You think I’m jealous?”

You gulped. Actually fucking gulped. And that little movement had Roy’s scowl replaced with the sexiest smirk you’d ever seen. His grip was firm; not painful, but definitely strong. For the number of times you’d hooked up, you’d never seen his eyes so dark, filled with a mixture of irritation and lust. It had you rubbing your thighs together, not caring if Roy noticed.

And Roy definitely noticed.

His eyes flickered over your shoulder for a brief moment before settling on your parted lips.

“Let’s go.”

Keeping his grip on your jaw, he pushed you backwards, opening a door behind you and guiding you into a deserted women’s bathroom. He quickly locked the door and moved a vanity chair under the handle, clearly planning on being in here for a while. Once privacy was secured, his eyes were on you again.

“Jealous,” he repeated, a scoff now. “Fucking jealous.”

He walked you back until your ass hit the row of sinks, the cold stone penetrating through your tight dress. His hands found the spot on your upper thigh where dress met bare skin, his fingers dipping just under the soft material to grip your flesh roughly, tugging the hem of your dress up around your hips.

Instinctively, you threw your head back at his touch, feeling electricity follow his fingertips as they brushed over your skin. Roy’s hand immediately was on your jaw again, tugging you to face him.

“Watch,” he demanded in a low voice.

With a whimper that was more from arousal than anything else, you obeyed. You watched as he brought his hands over your hips and slowly rolled down your panties, letting them drop in a little pool of lace around your ankles. He placed one hand on your hip with a bruising grip as the other hand came to your already drenched pussy. When one finger traced your slit, you had to use all your concentration to keep yourself from throwing your head back in pleasure.

“So fucking wet,” Roy groaned, adding another finger as he slowly caressed your soaking lips. “Who’s that for? Your pretty boy ex?”

Not caring about looking desperate, you frantically shook your head. “You, Roy,” you murmured, your voice breathy. “All for you.” You leaned forward to capture his lips in a kiss, to assure him with your mouth that he was all you wanted, but he shook his head.

“Thought I told you to watch.”

No man had ever spoken to you this way. Most guys tried so hard to be smooth, or romantic, or cool. No one had ever been so possessive, so jealous. No one had ever stared at you with such an intensity. And no man had ever turned you on so fucking much.

Obediently, you tilted your head back down to watch as Roy slipped those two fingers inside you, setting a rough, mean pace that already had you gripping the sinks so hard your knuckles turned white. His thumb began stroking harsh circles on your clit, adding to the overwhelming pleasure.

“You better keep fucking watching,” he grumbled before his mouth attached to your neck, kissing with more tongue than lip, leaving a slobbery path over your skin.

Even with his eyes off of your face, you did as you were told. You watched those two firm fingers pump in and out of you, curling upwards in that way Roy did that had you squirming in your now wobbling high heels. The only thing keeping you upright was this sink and Roy’s harsh grip.

Roy grunted when he hit a particularly deep spot and felt you clench around his fingers. “You really hurt my fucking feelings,” he growled against your neck, giving a soft bite to the sensitive skin. “Ignoring me while you paraded around in that little fucking racing suit. Looking like a fucking goddess.” His thumb pressed down on your clit, provoking a sharp whine from you. “Like my fucking Empress.”

“Yours, Roy,” you groaned as your hips stuttered against his hand, your climax rapidly approaching. “All fucking yours.”

And you meant it. You really fucking meant it.

“Damn right you’re mine,” he grunted, adding a third finger to your sopping cunt. “And I want to feel you come just for me.”

Apparently, his wish was your command.

Something deep within you snapped, and you felt yourself tighten around his fingers, so tight that his third finger slipped out. But he kept fucking you with his fingers relentlessly, finally moving his mouth to yours to swallow your lewd moans as you soaked his fingers with your release.

“Good fucking girl,” he mumbled against your mouth as your vision went blurry; the only thing you could focus on was the trembling pleasure Roy gave you. “His fingers ever make you come like this?”

Your orgasm rendered your speechless, so all you could do was give a little shake of your head, desperate not to lose the feeling of Roy’s lips against yours. His pumps slowed as you came down from your high; you let go of the sink and gripped his arms, needing some help with standing.

But Roy didn’t want you to stand.

“Turn around,” he growled, pulling his soaked fingers out of you. “Unless you’re fucking done with me? Hmm? Got what you wanted from me, yeah? Ready to go back to your little party and ignore me some more?”

You bit your lip as your eyes travelled down to the extremely noticeable bulge in his pants. When you looked back at his face, it was dark with desire.

“Need you,” you managed to croak out.

That was good enough for him. Not caring if he got your juices on your dress, he grabbed your hips and spun you around, pushing you down over the sink. Instinctively, you spread your legs, listening for the delicious sound of his zipper coming undone. Your entire body vibrated with pleasure as you felt his tip, already dripping with precum, press against your soaked core.

Roy brought his hand- the one soaked from your orgasm- to your face. “Open,” he demanded. When you opened your mouth, he stuck his two drenched fingers inside. “Don’t want anyone else hearing your pretty fucking sounds. Those are just for me, aren’t they?”

You nodded, moaning around his gorgeous fingers as you tasted your pleasure on him. Fuck, no wonder he was addicted to making you come, some dirty part of you thought. You were delicious.

Satisfied with the view before him, Roy slowly buried himself inside your soaked cunt with ease, his eyes staring into yours through the mirror with that same mix of lust and possessiveness.

“There she is,” he sighed as he set a harsh pace, his free hand on your back to keep you bent over for him. “My fucking Empress. Feel so fucking good. Just for me.”

A muffled “Mmm hmm” around his fingers was all you could manage as you bucked your hips back against him, drooling at the feeling of his hot skin against your bare ass. His cock felt perfect inside you, twitching and throbbing against your already spasming walls.

Eyes still on yours in the mirror, he lowered his mouth to your bare upper back and began leaving rough kisses all over your skin, sloppy and reckless, until those kisses became bites. Roy started sucking at the soft skin as he thrust into your slowly bruising sex over and over again, moaning against your back. When you clenched around him particularly tight, his tongue left a slow, deliberate trail across your skin, sending shivers down the spine he still had his hand on.

He groaned and gave a particularly stuttering jerk into you. “Should I mark you up?” he teased. “Show everyone who you belong to?” Using the fingers in your mouth as leverage, he made you nod slowly, as though you were his little toy. “Well, if you insist.” Rolling his hips harder, deeper, Roy returned to your back, sucking hard enough to make you whimper against the pads of his fingers. But the way you rocked into him assured him you liked it.

“Fucking look at you,” he moaned, giving you a bit of that hip action that had you seeing stars. “You ever been fucked like this, gorgeous girl? Bent over in a fucking bathroom, fingers in your mouth?” He brought his lips to your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin. “Bet no pretty boy’s ever done this.” He started sucking on the spot behind your ear, that perfect little spot that had you mewling as you spasmed against him.

He slowly inched his fingers further into your mouth, prompting you to suck them with the same enthusiasm you would his cock. The sensation had him twitching inside you, desperate to paint your walls.

“You look so fucking perfect,” he muttered as he returned his mouth to your slowly purpling back, adding more beautiful little dark spots wherever he could reach. “My dirty Empress.” He licked over a bite mark he’d left, one he hoped you’d have for days. “You want to come for me, gorgeous?”

Your desperate nod had him groaning. He’d never seen anyone look so fucking desperate, needy, hungry for him. After being ignored by you all weekend, to have you bent over in a public bathroom, panties on the floor, mouth full of his fingers, all of it was driving him mad. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could last, but he knew he needed to let you come first.

He needed to remind you about how he could make you feel.

He removed his fingers from your mouth, drooling a bit when he heard the little whine that escaped your now empty mouth. The hand on your hip came up to your beautiful neck, urging you to stand up with your back to his heaving chest.

When you wobbled, he tightened his grip, just enough to hold you steady. “I’ve got you,” he promised, planting a tender kiss to your neck. “’ve always got you.”

Roy brought those fingers- now sodden from both your cunt and mouth- to your pulsing clit, rubbing firm circles over the bundle of nerves.

“Roy,” you whimpered, gripping his arms with your trembling hands. “Please.”

He smiled, a real smile for the first time all weekend, as his cock continued to bruise your cunt. “Would you look at that,” he murmured, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. “My Empress remembered her manners.” He pumped his cock as deep as he could, over and over, desperate to hit that one perfect little spot that would- “Oh, there she is.”

He watched with lewd pride as you fell apart in front of him, mouth open in a silent scream. Your whole body was drenched in sweat as you trembled, your knees buckling beneath you; the only thing keeping you upright was Roy. As your body quivered with pleasure, you slouched back over the sink, wondering vaguely how you were going to walk in the morning, let alone in the next few minutes.

“Such a good girl,” Roy cooed, his voice thick with a beautiful mix of mocking and adoration. “Now tell me what else you want.”

“Your cum,” was your automatic answer as your fingers traced over the cool faucet. “Please,” you begged, probably for the first time in your life. “Please fucking come for me.”

Roy’s devilish smile widened, setting your whole body on fire. “If my Empress insists.”

Whit his hands back on your hips, his thrusts became sloppy, no longer about making you feel good- although, the overstimulation did have your eyes rolling back. He gave a few harsh, bruising drives before you felt him fill you up with that delicious release; fuck, how you wished you could taste it. Pump after pump until you could feel it begin to leak down your thighs. You shivered when you felt Roy glide a single finger over your sticky thigh and bring a cum-covered finger to your lips.

“Taste.”

He didn’t need to order you; you would have automatically stuck out your tongue to get a taste of that tangy stickiness that now coated your throbbing pussy.

The room was filled with ragged breathing as he finally pulled out of you, still keeping a firm grip on you to keep you from falling.

Finally, you smirked at him through the mirror- or at least, as much of a smirk as you could manage.

“Fuck,” you gasped, brushing your wild hair out of your face. “I’m really supposed to go back to the party like this?”

Roy’s dark chuckle had your heart racing. “Party?” he scoffed. “Oh no, baby. I’m not fucking done with you.”

Taglist:@hotdoglamp@daydreamgoddess14@klaine-92@gibby31@anonurs@taytaylala12@unholyhuntress@thatonedogwithablog@seacactusplant@e-mmygrey@jane-dough @zara-aliza08 @sky-full-0f-fl0wers @deliriousfangirl61 @katdahlali

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Shut Up and Drive (Chapter 4)

Roy Kent x F1 Driver!Reader

4.4k words

Warnings: Language, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, no foreplay or lube (because it's fiction), mentions of being cheated on, pining and some angst, Keeley is determined to get Roy laid

@agentstarkid is always the best at letting me ramble and plan ❤️

Series Masterlist

Wednesday morning, Roy stood on the pitch, watching the Greyhounds amble out of the tunnel for training. He snuck a glance at his phone; still no new messages. He thought back to that morning in your bed. Yeah, he’d put in his number on your phone correctly, he was sure of it. You’d had a good time that night. You definitely came- multiple times, in fact. And you looked almost disappointed when he had to leave to be a responsible baby-sitter for his idiot team.

So why the fuck hadn’t you texted him?

“Mornin’, Coach!” Jamie chirped, his stupid pink headband giving Roy a headache. “Alright?”

Before Roy could open his mouth for some expletive-laced response, the mobile in his hand buzzed. Unable to help himself, he quickly opened the incoming message.

There you were.

Gorgeous as ever in a dark pair of leggings and a Ferrari t-shirt, you leaned against your beautiful car, cocky grin and mischievous eyes threatening to give Roy a hardon. The attached message made things worse:

She’s purring 😼

“Whoa there, Grandad.”

Realizing that Jamie was still over his shoulder, Roy stuffed his phone into his pocket with a scowl. “Go get warmed up, Tartt.”

Jamie’s eyes were bright with amusement. “You made her purr?” he scoffed. “The fuck did you do to her, Roy? And please, draw me a diagram or some shit.”

Roy’s face was bright red; whether from annoyance, embarrassment, or arousal he wasn’t quite sure. “Her fucking car,” he muttered.

“You fucked her in her racecar?” Jamie looked like a child who’d been visited by Father Christmas. “You are a god, Roy Kent-”

Roy threw his head back with a loud groan. “She’s talking about her car,” he barked. “Purring means it sounds good or whatever.” He pointed towards the pitch. “Now fucking go on before I have you tie a string around your prick again and give the other end to the mascot.”

With Jamie still laughing but finally gone, Roy snuck another glance at his phone, that horny little voice in his head telling him not to care if he popped a boner in front of the whole team. To his surprise, there was already another text waiting for him.

The car, I mean. You’ll have to make something else purr yourself, Kent.

Fuck. He bit his lip and tucked his phone away, wondering how the hell he was going to focus on training, or anything really, after reading that text.

You were going to be the death of him.

~

Eying Roy carefully over her salad, Keeley opened her mouth. “So how was your night with the Empress?” Her deepened, teasing voice had Roy scowling.

“Fuck are you on about?” He narrowed his eyes at the blonde who was perched on his desk after insisting they have lunch together. “I walked her to the hotel, apologized for the way the guys were all over, and went the fuck to bed. It was well past my bedtime.” He took a particularly aggressive bite of his own salad.

“Well, that’s disappointing.” Keeley pouted. “I think someone like you’d be good for her.”

Roy sighed and slammed his salad onto his desk. This conversation clearly wasn’t ending anytime soon. “Fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

A moment passed in silence as Keeley pursed her lips and studied Roy’s sullen face. “Well… about a year ago she had this beautiful, vile boyfriend. A model. Built like a Greek god or something. They were very hot and heavy, very public, for about three years. Aaaaaand he cheated on her. Quite publicly.” Keeley’s expression was heavy with sympathy. “Ever since, she hasn’t been seen with the same guy for more than two weeks.”

Color flooded Roy’s face. “And why the fuck d’you think I’d be good for her or whatever?”

Keeley reached out and touched Roy’s cheek, smugly noting how unusually warm it felt. “You’re a good guy, Roy. A damn good boyfriend. Probably the best one I ever had.” She shrugged and withdrew her hand. “She could use some of that.”

Roy stared at his salad. No wonder you were keeping him at arm’s length, leaving things up in the air about seeing each other again. He was just another fun time you were using to help you get over some other prick.

He hated how badly he wanted to let you use him.

“Who the fuck did he cheat with anyway?” Roy spat, ignoring the knots in his stomach. “Liz Hurly in the 90s?” His mouth moved ahead of his brain. “Because I can’t think of anyone who’d be worth losing- I mean, she’s just so fucking badass and gorgeous-”

“That, that right there!” Keeley lit up, pointing at Roy’s red face with her fork. “That’s why I think you’d be so nice for her. Look at you, already gushing over her. It’s kind of cute.” She tilted her head, reminding Roy of the poodle his great-aunt Natalie used to keep. “And I think it’s mutual,” she added slowly. “The couple of times you two’ve been in the same room, it’s obvious. There’s an attraction there. And I mean, you’re both legends in your sport, you’re both fit, you’re both full of white-hot passion-”

Roy rolled his eyes. “You trying to set me up on a date, or are you trying to cast a commercial?”

Keeley grinned. “Alright but think about how hot the two of you would look in a magazine- The Empress and the Greyhound.”

Pretending he didn’t love the sound of that, Roy picked a piece of shredded carrot out of his salad and tossed it at Keeley’s open mouth. “Eat your fucking lunch.”

~

You probably weren’t supposed to be in this hallway. You had promised to meet Keeley and Rebecca in the owner’s box, fully intent on drinking your weight in champagne while cheering on the Greyhounds. But you found yourself wandering down an empty hallway, wondering which way it was to the changing rooms, despite your inner voice scolding you about how you were getting far too comfortable with finding Roy Kent in your bed and reminding you not to start any bad habits with that gorgeous man who you had texted far too often this week.

“Oi.”

Heart skipping a beat, you turned around. All thoughts of not hooking up with Roy Kent again were immediately silenced when you caught sight of those trackpants, already starting to look tight as he quirked an eyebrow at you. It was kind of stupid of you to think you’d be able see him without your thoughts turning dirty, because there you were, face to face with the man and practically drooling in more ways than one.

“Roy Kent,” you greeted, at least appearing cool with your little smirk.

Roy’s eyes scanned your body slowly, unabashedly, taking in your tight red pants and low-cut tank top, all the way up to your Ferrari cap. Almost as if he knew you’d picked out this outfit hoping he’d see it. “Thought you were supposed to give me a heads up next time.”

You shrugged as you closed the distance between the two of you, barely resisting the urge to totally press your body to his. “Wasn’t sure if I’d see you this trip,” you admitted.

“What, already tired of sharing your hotel whiskey with me?” Despite his teasing voice, his furrowed eyebrows exposed his disappointment.

That sweet disappointment had you tugging at his open jacket with a little pout. “No hotel whiskey this time,” you purred. “Only here for the afternoon. I’m flying out after the match.”

“What’s with the quick turnaround?”

You smiled, wishing you could reach up and ease the wrinkle between his brows, instead choosing to use your grip on his jacket to tug him a smidge closer. “I was just here to meet with Rebecca. Keeley heard someone was selling a few shares, and Becca’s hoping I’ll scoop them up. She’s wining and dining me during the match today.”

His confidence returned, a smirk forming on those lips you wanted to feel on every inch of your body. “What, you think if you become an owner, you can boss me around?”

Completely ignoring that gnawing feeling deep in your gut telling you to turn around, to walk away from this beautiful man and find a less secluded hallway, you giggled and let one hand wander to his bicep. “Roy Kent, I don’t need to be an owner to tell you what to do.”

“Oh really?” His eyes darkened as he took another look up and down your body, lingering on all of his favorite parts. “Prove it.”

You stood on tiptoe, bringing your lips to his ear, savoring his shiver as you whispered, “Fuck me.”

In no time his hand was scandalously low on your back as he steered you to a nearby door, practically shoving you inside. Once the door was closed and locked behind you, Roy set to work making sure the boot room was empty- no Will Kitman hiding in some corner, too scared to move from his post- locking every door and shutting every set of blinds he could find. Roy Kent was a rather selfish man when it came to you; he wanted the delicious sounds of your moans and whimpers all to himself.

Satisfied that the two of you had the most privacy possible in a stadium packed with athletes, fans, and the press, Roy pulled you to himself, roughly pressing his mouth to yours, wasting no time before sliding his tongue inside. Somewhere in the kiss, your cap fell to the floor. Sighing into his open mouth, you wrapped your arms around his neck, wondering how you ever thought you’d be able to come to Nelson Road and resist him when he on his home turf.

He walked you backwards until your back hit a counter and let his hands wander down to the button of your red jeans. “Don’t have much time,” he mumbled, lips roving to your jaw. “Gotta be quick, alright?”

Eyes fluttering shut, you nodded, desperate for anything he’d give you. “Quick,” you breathed, already feeling yourself turn to putty under his rough hands.

Roy made quick work of your jeans, tugging them down your ankles, along with the pretty panties you’d picked just for him. Eyes on your glistening sex, he wiggled down his trackpants, revealing how hard he already was. Gripping your hips, he helped you hop onto the counter, where you spread your legs for him. He pressed his forehead to yours as he slowly slid himself into your entrance, bringing himself to a stop at the first whine that slipped past your lips.

“I know,” he cooed, bringing down one hand to soothingly rub your clit as he resumed inching into you. “I know, baby. You’re doing so well, taking me so fucking well.”

Your breath caught in your throat, this time from his words more than the burning feeling of his cock stretching you. Baby. You hated when men called you that, men who hadn’t been around long enough to call you such a sweet, gentle name. It was an instant turn-off. Too loving, too intimate.

But when Roy Kent said it? It sounded like heaven.

The feeling of him filling you up brought your thoughts back to the moment. He froze, letting you have a moment to get used to the sensation- as if you could ever get used to being fucked by Roy Kent.  You wrapped your legs around his waist and brought your lips to his, letting your rough kiss give him permission to move again.

He started with slow, dragging strokes, watching your face with an intense gaze as you gripped his arms. You threw your head back against the wall, the pain giving way to familiar pleasure, especially with the way Roy expertly massaged your clit.

Feeling the needy way your cunt clenched around him, Roy picked up his pace, roughly thrusting into you. When a loud moan escaped your lips, he instinctively brought his free hand to your mouth, shaking his head.

“Gotta keep quiet, baby,” he growled. He could practically feel your pussy throb at the word. “Think you could do that for me?” When you nodded, he removed his hand and brought it to your clothed breast, squeezing it roughly through your top. “Good girl.”

Fuck. Was he trying to make you moan again?

Desperate for something to occupy your mouth, you latched your lips to his jaw, pressing slobbery kisses there as Roy drove into you, biting his lower lip to hold in his own moans. When his cock hit that perfect spot deep inside you, you whined against his skin and began sucking on the spot. Part of you scolded yourself; you were definitely going to leave a mark on his jaw. But the part of you that was drunk off of Roy’s cock hoped you left him with a reminder of this romp.

His garbled moan told you that he was close, so fucking close. Determined to be a gentleman, he quickened his strokes on your clit, bringing his free hand to your hip to attempt to hold you as still as possible so he could absolutely pound into you.

“Roy,” you whimpered against his jaw as that coil in your tummy wound tighter and tighter. You felt yourself start to spasm around his cock.

“That’s it, gorgeous,” he whispered, his thrusts becoming sloppy. “Come for me, baby. Fucking come for me. I need it. Need you.”

His words made you snap. You gripped his biceps as if your life depended on it, and your teeth sunk into that spot on his jaw you’d been sucking to muffle the moan you felt sure the entire building could hear. He fucked you through your orgasm, wishing more than anything that he had time to make you come over and over again instead of having to savor this one like the treasure it was.

Your body spasmed beautifully against his until you looked up at him through your eyelashes, eyes glossy, completely fucked out. The sight only had him pounding harder, determined to give you something to remember him by before the two of you parted ways.

“Fuck,” he hissed, releasing your clit so he could grab your face and tilt it towards his. “Want me to fucking come for you?”

All you could do was nod and capture his lips with yours, your kiss sloppy and wet, tongues wrestling, teeth knocking carelessly. Your legs pulled him deeper, your fucked out mind desperate for him to fill you up.

Finally regaining some control of your still very horny mind, you brought your lips to his ear. “Roy,” you cooed, giving a little nibble to his lobe. “Come for me, baby.”

That fucking did it.

Roy’s whole body jerked as his cock spasmed and emptied inside you, your name softly falling from his lips like it was the only word he knew. Your eyes rolled back at the overstimulation, grateful that you were sitting because your knees were beyond weak, even weaker than your resolve had been when you’d first laid eyes on Roy in the hallway.

It felt much too soon when the two of you collapsed in each other’s arms, panting quietly. You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, intoxicated by the scent of sex and Roy; fuck you wished you were staying in Richmond tonight. But the part of you that knew you were starting to get needy for Roy Kent was grateful you were leaving as soon as the match ended. This was getting far too easy.

With a quiet groan, Roy pulled out of you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, almost as an apology for having to rush things. As much as he needed to be inside you, he regretted that it was so sloppy, so hasty. If there was anything he wanted to take his time with, it was you.

He offered you his hand and helped you off the counter, which you couldn’t bring yourself to look at, fearful that you’d left a puddle behind. The two of you quickly fixed yourselves, pulling up pants and fixing hair. Roy bent down and picked up your hat, handing it to you with an almost bashful look on his flushed face.

“That was…” He raised his eyebrows, question marks in his eyes.

You let out a breathy chuckle as you put your hat back on, grateful that it would hide some of the mess Roy had made of your hair. “Yeah.” You ran your hands down your body, smoothing out your clothes. Fuck, you felt ready to pass out. Or ready to ask Roy to fill you up again.

“C’mere.” Roy grabbed your hand and pulled you to himself, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You better stay overnight next time,” he murmured, his thumb stroking a small piece of your exposed skin. “Because I want to take my time with you, got it?” He kissed your lips deeply. “Fucking Empress deserves to be treated properly.”

If the fucking hadn’t weakened your knees, Roy’s words sure would have. All you could do was kiss him back, wishing you had more time and wishing that you weren’t wishing that. Roy Kent had a reputation. Models, actresses, an heiress or two. And now, thanks to you, he could add F1 Driver to his resumé. Back at Silverstone, you figured he’d be fun, another nice little distraction, good for the weekend and maybe another hookup in Richmond if you ever came to a match. You’d promised yourself you weren’t stupid enough to actually fall for the footballer whose Chelsea kit still hung in the back of your closet somewhere.

But you also weren’t expecting those brown eyes to have that look as he gazed down at you.

“I better go,” you murmured, equally desperate to stay and get as far away as possible. “Becca and Keeley’ll be sending a search party soon.”

“Right.” He pressed another kiss to your lips. “Enjoy the match, yeah?”

You offered him a ghost of a smile as you tiptoed out of the boot room, trying to look as if you were supposed to be there, not that you’d snuck in for a quick fuck with the manager.

As you strode down the hall, walking quickly to get to the owners’ box before the girls could begin to wonder where you were, it dawned on you. This being a quick trip, you had no change of clothes. Meaning you were now stuck with a soaking pair of panties that would slowly fill with everything Roy had just given you. As annoyed as part of you was, knowing it was going to be an uncomfortable as hell football match and flight, some dirty little part of you couldn’t help but feel turned on at the thought.

Fuck. You liked shagging Roy Kent a lot more than you should.

Taglist: @hotdoglamp @daydreamgoddess14 @klaine-92 @gibby31 @anonurs @taytaylala12 @unholyhuntress @thatonedogwithablog @seacactusplant @e-mmygrey @jane-dough

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Shut Up and Drive (Chapter 2)

Roy Kent x F1 Driver!Reader

4.3k words

Warnings: Language, fingering, unprotected sex, the start of catching feelings

A/N: Reader is called "The Empress" by fans. Thanks to @agentstarkid for coming up with the nickname 🩷🩷

Series Masterlist

It didn’t take a genius to know whose eyes were drilling a hole into your backside. When you glanced over your shoulder, you locked eyes with Roy Kent. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly as his eyes raked down your figure. His gaze froze at your middle, where you had tied your racing suit; his eyes were on that little sliver of tummy that you may have purposefully left exposed just for him. You shot him a small wink before turning to chat with one of your engineers.

Roy focused all of his strength on not biting his lip as he stared at you. The two of you had been playing this little game all weekend: gazes across rooms, eyes lingering on each other’s bodies, mentally undressing each other, both wondering if the other was thinking about Roy’s post-race promise.

“Oi, why don’t we get a picture?” Keeley’s voice interrupted a particularly filthy image Roy had swimming in his head that involved you on your knees. “Our Greyhounds with one of the cars. Be real cute, yeah?”

Needing his willpower to prevent himself from getting an obvious hardon, Roy allowed himself to be dragged to one of the cars and- fuck, Keeley was dragging him to your car. The car that he most definitely did not imagine you writhing on top of while he-

“Alright boys, smile pretty!”

Right. Roy, smiling. Keeley was just grateful that he stood next to Jamie while she started snapping away. He swore he saw something light up in her face, but she just continued to take pictures. Freaking Keeley.

“Roy Kent, are you a fan?”

The breath on the back of his neck had a visible shiver coursing through his body. Even just the sound of your voice was enough to make his mind go to the filthiest places. When he turned around, you were smirking up at him, eyebrows raised and hands on your hips, looking like his own personal centerfold in your half-down racing suit.

Before his brain could get the blood back from his crotch, Keeley pulled you into a hug, squealing about how hot you looked in your race suit, something Roy quite agreed with- especially since he knew what was underneath all those layers.

After you’d greeted the others, you turned your attention back to Roy. “Excited to watch the race?”

He swore he saw your eyes flicker to his crotch when you said excited.

Roy shifted his weight, hoping to avoid looking like a horny teenager in front of everyone. “’Course I am. Really looking forward to seeing you win.” Recognizing the lustful look in your eyes, he felt emboldened to quietly add, “And looking forward to celebrating with you after.”

Finally, he’d cracked that cool exterior you wore. Your slight flush only added to his desire “Oh, is that offer still good?” You glanced at the Richmond crew, who were back to taking pictures by your car. “Guess I better get out there and win then.” You gave his bicep a little squeeze. “Wish me luck.”

His voice was low. “You don’t fucking need luck. You’re the fucking Empress.”

You’d been called that little nickname for what felt like forever now. Heard it shouted by fans, had reporters cheekily call you that, even had a couple guys try using it in the bedroom. And you loved the way it sounded in Italian- L'imperatrice- once you joined Ferrari.

But hearing Roy Kent call you that had your pussy practically purring.

You needed to remove yourself from him before you removed his clothes. So, you allowed yourself one last eyeful of the football legend before turning away. “I’ll see you after the race, Roy Kent.”

~

Goddess. That was the only word Roy could think as he watched you up on the podium, drenched in champagne and positively glowing. When the bottles of champagne were popped and poured over you, Roy found himself grateful for the roar of the crowd because he couldn’t hold back his groan, thinking about other things he wanted to see you covered in.

Unfortunately for Roy, the cheers could hide his moans but not his face.

“Roy Kent, are you horny?” Keeley hissed in his ear.

Roy tore his eyes away from you to look at Keeley, completely flabbergasted. “What the fuck, Keeley?”

Her smile was pure, adorable evil. “You’re horny,” she repeated. Her mischievous eyes flashed to the podium. “You fucking like her.”

“Fuck off, Keeley,” he grumbled, trying to look casual when he turned his gaze back to you. But fuck, it was hard when he saw you up there, drenched, in that sexy racing suit, being worshipped like the deity he was completely convinced you were.

Something else was hard when your gazes locked and you offered him that smirk, the one that told him, I’m taking your pants off, Roy Kent.

If only he knew how badly you were fighting the urge to rub your thighs together at the mere sight of him.

Keeley’s elbow dug into his ribs. “Holy shit, are you going to try to shag her?”

He was going to murder the blonde beside him. “Fuck are you on about?” he grumbled, pretending Keeley wasn’t completely on target. “What is actually wrong with you?”

She shrugged, as if she wasn’t torturing her friend. “Roy. I know your horny face. I have been the reason for your horny face.” She pointed at him. “That is your horny face. And, if memory serves me, you are very fucking turned on right now. Not that I could blame you. She’s gorgeous.” Her smile widened. “I ever tell you about the photoshoot we did together? Where I was hanging all over her? Even kissed her in one.”

The tips of Roy’s ears turned bright red. Yeah, that was a mental image he’d have melted into his brain for a long time, especially now that he knew what both of you looked like naked.

“Oi, Keeley!” Jamie wrapped his arms around both of his friends’ shoulders; for once, Roy was grateful for Tartt’s interruption, even if it meant being embraced by the man. “We goin’ to one of the afterparties or something?”

Even though she answered Jamie, her wicked grin was directed at Roy. “Oh, we’re going to Ferrari’s party.”

~

For once in his life, Roy didn’t complain about having to go to a club. Keeley thought she was clever, realizing that Roy was seriously attracted to the gorgeous young champion, and even more clever for dragging Roy to the celebration in your honor. She was such a good friend, trying to help Roy shag his little crush.

What Keeley didn’t realize was that Roy’d already had his tongue inside of you.

“You should go say hi,” Keeley purred, nudging Roy for the millionth time that day. “Bring her a drink or some shit. Flirt with her a little.” She reminded him of a parrot, repeating herself over and over since they’d arrived at the club.

Roy rolled his eyes and leaned his elbows on the high-top table they stood at. “Keeley,” he growled. “You say one more fucking word, and I will never speak to that woman again.” It was an absolute fucking lie, but Roy was desperate for her to stop.

She pouted. “Come on, Roy,” she whined. “Just want to see you all happy and getting some.”

“I get plenty,” he snapped, feeling himself blush.

“When?” she responded, just as curt. “I’ve hardly seen you since any women since we broke up.”

Roy scoffed, pretending Keeley wasn’t once again correct. “Well, not that it’s your fucking business, but I just hooked up with someone recently. And it was fucking great. And she definitely fucking came.” God, he sounded like such a wanker.

Before Keeley could badger him about who this mystery woman was, Jamie pulled her to the dance floor, leaving Roy to finally fucking breathe. He turned his attention to the glass in front of him, frowning at it. Should he go say hi? You were spending your whole night being mobbed by people; did he really want to add to that? And besides, did you really take his little promise seriously?

“There a porno playing at the bottom of that glass or something?”

There you were, wearing a dress that was more skin than material, giving him that fucking smirk. You leaned on the table and gazed up at him, the look in your eyes tempting Roy to pull you close and plant a sloppy kiss to whatever skin his lips found first.

Instead, he lifted his glass. “There she is,” he hummed. “The fucking champion. The Empress.” He wasn’t sure because of the dark lighting, but he swore he saw you blush. “Looked great up there, with your big fucking trophy.”

Your bravado returned with a vengeance. “Speaking of which…” You took a tiny step towards him, letting your fingers brush against the inside of his wrist. “I’ve heard you’ve got a big fucking trophy for me.”

In spite of his spinning head, Roy coolly raised his thick eyebrows at you. “Only if you want it,” he murmured.

Your eyes never left his as you reached into your clutch, pulled out a hotel room key, and slipped it into his hand. “Wait five minutes, then leave. I’ll be five minutes behind you, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he huffed, eyes sparkling as he pocketed the hotel room key. “Bring that bossiness with you, hmm?”

He pushed himself off the table and strode away, letting his fingertips brush against yours. You looked down and let yourself smile, a real, girlish smile; you weren’t sure the last time you wore one of those. But fuck, Roy Kent sure made you feel some kind of giddiness.

“Hey there, gorgeous!” Keeley Jones bounded over to you. “Congratulations!”

You let her pull you into a tight hug, although your mind was already in your hotel room embracing someone else from Richmond. “Thanks, Keeley.”

Keeley’s smile was… suspicious. “Saw Roy chatting with you just now.”

Fuck. “Oh, yeah. Nice guy, was offering me his congratulations.” And his cock.

“Well, between you and me…” She leaned in close, reminding you of the girls you went to school with, the ones who giggled and whispered. “I think Roy’s got a thing for you.”

“Oh.” Dammit, you didn’t know how to react. What are you supposed to say when someone says the guy you’re about to fuck wants to fuck you? “Interesting.”

Keeley all but scoffed. “Interesting?” she repeated. “Come on, you’ve got to admit he’s fit as hell.”

You shrugged. “I guess? I mean, it’s not like I’ve seen the guy naked.” Hey, it’s the truth.

“Well, I have. And believe me, he’s gorgeous.” Keeley nudged you, offering a cartoonish wink. “Should give him a shot.”

As you tried to figure out the least obvious way to get out of this conversation so you could get into Roy Kent’s pants, Jamie Tartt- who was apparently very busy being an angel tonight- rushed over to tell Keeley that Rebecca had just agreed to do body shots off of him and that he needed Keeley to come record it.

Thankful to finally have Keeley gone, you quickly turned on your heel, giving only smiles and waves to the people who wanted to offer you congratulations as you made your way out of the club. But, just like on the track, there was no stopping you; not when you had a big fucking trophy waiting for you.

The entire cab ride to the hotel, you were fighting the urge to touch yourself in the dark backseat, just imagining Roy waiting for you in your suite. Would he be in the sitting room? The bedroom? The shower? Would he be wearing his suit still? Or completely naked and ready for you? Each scenario was hotter than the last, and you felt a little guilty, thinking that you were probably leaving a puddle on the seat of the taxi.

Miraculously, you walked steadily in your high heels through the hotel lobby, to the lift, and finally down the hall to your suite. You paused in front of the door, your confidence failing for the first time all weekend as you stared at the door handle. What if Roy wasn’t in there? What if, on what should be one of the best nights of your life- six fucking titles- you’d just utterly humiliated yourself? Maybe what he’d wanted was a one-time thing and nothing more.

Or, maybe he was just as hot for you as you were for him.

Knowing there was only one way to find out, you fished out the duplicate key to your room from your clutch and pressed it to the sensor. The little beep let you know to go ahead and turn the handle; with a shaky breath, you did.

“Was starting to think you wouldn’t show.”

Roy Kent sat on the couch, the top buttons of his shirt undone, legs crossed, drink in hand, looking like sex personified. He stood up and grabbed the untouched drink that sat on the little coffee table and crossed the room to hand it to you as the door closed behind you.

“Empress.”

You took the drink, unable to suppress the smile that tugged on your lips. “Roy Kent. In my hotel room. Drinking scotch.” You took a sip. “Why does this feel familiar?”

He took your free hand in his and led you back to the couch. Feeling utterly bold, you swung your legs over his lap, pleased with the surprised look in his eye, and even more pleased when he let his hand rest on your shin. He stared, not at your highly exposed body, but at your face, his fiery gaze holding yours carefully.

“You were fucking brilliant today,” he murmured, letting his thumb stroke your shin, natural and casual, as if he did this every night. “Knew from the moment you started your car that you were going to win.” He tilted his head back, the corner of his lips tugging upwards. “Really glad you did.”

You eyed him over the rim of your glass as you took a long sip. “You make a bet with someone that I was going to win?” you teased, kicking off your shoes.

“Something like that.” He finished his scotch and placed his glass back on the table, keeping a firm grip on your legs. “Now, what’s this about you wanting a big fucking trophy?”

“Well, you did promise me something about your pants if I won today.” You sat up, bringing your face to his, nudging his nose with yours. “And I did win.”

“Guess you get a big fucking trophy then.”

His mouth captured yours, somehow even more desperate than last time, scotch and desire on his tongue. Without breaking the kiss, he grabbed the glass you held and placed it next to his, freeing your hands to grab onto his shoulders as you lifted yourself onto his lap, that familiar bulge pressing against you.

“Been waiting all weekend for this,” he mumbled against your mouth, tangling one hand in your hair, and letting the other grip your hip. “All fucking weekend, watching you strut around in that little racing suit.” His mouth trailed down your jaw towards your neck. “Gorgeous fucking thing.”

You rolled your hips into his, not bothering to hide your moan. “And what if I hadn’t won?” you teased, squeezing his shoulders. “What would’ve happened to my big fucking trophy?”

“Then you’d get a big fucking consolation prize.” The hand on your hip found your ass, giving it a squeeze. “Because I was not leaving this weekend without fucking you.”

His brazen, dirty words had you gasping even louder than his clothed hardness. “Fucking hell,” was all you could huff out, giving another thrust down onto him. “Get me into the fucking bedroom already.”

“Whatever you say, Empress.”

You didn’t need to tell Roy twice. Just like Thursday, he held you against him, bringing his mouth back to yours as he traced the now-familiar path to the bedroom, fighting the urge to rip the dress off your body; it could hardly be called a dress anyway, it barely covered a damn thing. And what it did cover, he was desperate to see.

The two of you collapsed onto the bed, Roy on top of you, careful not to press his weight on you. As soon as your back hit the mattress, your hands were on the remaining buttons of his shirt, carelessly opening them, not feeling an ounce of guilt when one ripped off the material and bounced onto the floor. As soon as the last button was undone, you thrust the shirt over his shoulders and tossed it aside.

Finally- fucking finally- you had a piece of Roy Kent’s clothing gone. You broke the kiss to take a good look at his chest, as if you hadn’t just been looking at shirtless photos of him the night before while doing your usual pre-race “ritual”. A sigh flew out of your mouth as your hands trailed down his chest, gripping that thick, dark hair that you wanted to bury your face in.

When you gave a particularly demanding tug at his hair, Roy let out a hiss and gave a jerk, the material against your bare thighs reminding you that he still had his pants on.

“Can I have my prize?” you purred, fiddling with the zipper of his pants; you realized with a smug satisfaction that he’d taken off his belt before you’d even arrived at the suite.

He buried his face in your neck, hands roaming your body. “You can have whatever the fuck you want,” he growled. “Fucking champion. Fucking Empress.”

Determined to take him up on that, your nimble fingers made quick work of his pants, helping him tug them down. Once they were off, he turned over, tugging you to sit on top of him. Your hands and eyes took their time roaming his body; it was everything you knew it would be: strong, muscular, hot to the touch. And now it was the one thing you wanted it to be: yours.

“This would be one hell of a consolation prize,” you whispered, bringing one hand to cup his cheek. “Glad I won. Feel like I deserve it.” You said it in a joking voice, but some small part of you meant it.

He laid his hand on top of yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Believe me,” he breathed. “You deserve anything you want.”

The two of you paused, both taken aback by the tenderness of the moment, this interruption to the hot desperation. Roy let out an awkward huff and brought your hand to his mouth, giving your palm a rough kiss.

“You’re the Empress, after all. Fucking royalty and shit.” He was trying to play it off, to act like he’d been flirting and nothing more.

And you decided to join him in playing along. “Then why the fuck am I still wearing my dress?”

His wicked smile returned as his hands shot to your zipper, pulling it down harshly; you were pretty sure he might’ve ripped the dress as he tugged it over your head, but you didn’t care. He wasted no time getting your bra off, smiling at the sight of your bare breasts.

“Oh, I remember you two,” he chuckled, reaching up to grope them. His hands kneaded and tugged and squeezed until he was satisfied with your perky nipples and the groans flying out of your mouth. Determined to hear your pretty noises some more, he bucked up, the sensation more intense now that only two very thin pieces of material lay between you.

He flipped you over, resuming his position hovering over you. His mouth met yours sloppily as he began grinding his clothed length against you, torturing you, knowing you were desperate to get the last bit of his clothing off.

“Fucking tease,” you huffed, fiddling with the waistband of his boxers.

He chuckled and gave a painfully slow grind. “Oi, play nice,” he warned playfully, nipping at your swollen bottom lip. “Patience is a fucking virtue.”

With that, he tugged at your panties, sliding them down your thighs at that tantalizing pace of his. He watched your face shamelessly as your features twisted when you felt his hands brush past your heat.

“Roy,” you whined, bucking up. “Please.”

He throbbed at the sight of you: hair completely mussed, lips red and swollen, eyes glassy, stunning body frantically writhing beneath him, trying to get just a hint of friction. Despite how desperate you appeared, Roy knew the truth: you were in charge.

“Oh, gorgeous,” he cooed, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Just let me enjoy this. Let me enjoy you. Please.”

Unable to say no to the begging eyes he was giving you, you nodded and rocked your hips into his, your own eyes pleading with him to fucking touch you.

He obeyed and brought a strong hand down to your pussy, groaning when he felt how soaked you already were. “This for me?” When you nodded, he moaned again. “Fucking love it.” Though tempted to repeat Thursday night and devour your sweetness, Roy instead watched you carefully as he inserted two fingers into you, his cock twitching when he heard the lewd noises coming out of your mouth as you clenched around his fingers.

He set a slow pace, pumping in and out, practically drooling with the knowledge that soon, his cock would be replacing his lucky fingers. His mouth found yours again, greedily swallowing your moans, tasting your neediness on his tongue.

“Roy,” you hissed as he hit a particularly deep spot. “Give me my fucking trophy. Please.”

He chuckled, caught off-guard by the joking tone in your strangled voice. “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

Your whole body melted when Roy pulled down his boxers and you felt his hot tip, already leaking, press against you. Your hips bucked up to meet him, gasping when you felt him so fucking close to your entrance.

With your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, you missed the smile Roy had for you, watching you squirm before he’d even entered you. Fuck, if he thought you were a goddess up on the podium, you were otherworldly beneath him right now.

The kind of beauty a careless man could fall in love with.

He concealed a moan in your neck as he slowly buried himself in you, the gentle pace allowing his mind to come to terms with the fact that he was fucking the woman he’d spent far too many hours fantasizing about.

“Fuck,” he hissed as he felt you clench around him. “Fucking perfect.” He pressed his mouth to yours, stuffing your throat with his moans and hisses and fucks. Once he felt you relax and adjust to his size- filling you up even better than you’d ever imagined and- holy shit what is this heavenly curve you feel?- he began thrusting into you, setting a steady pace that had your toes curling.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, wondering how much closer two people could get, and gripped his chest, tugging at that dark hair, while his hands held your hips tight enough that you knew you’d have bruises in the morning.

If you’d thought the sounds from before were lewd, they were nothing to now. Roy was grunting and moaning like a madman, and you were pretty sure the people in the room next to yours could hear your cries of pleasure, leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind that Roy was in your bed, considering the way you moaned his name. And the wet sounds of skin on skin rounded out the dirty symphony that filled the room that would undoubtedly have that sweet smell of sex in the morning.

As you felt your climax build around his cock, you found yourself hoping, in some little part of your mind, that this wouldn’t be the last time you fucked Roy Kent.

You couldn’t dwell on the fleeting thought for long once he gave a particularly rough thrust, sending you over the edge. You spasmed in his grasp, babbling his name and fuck over and over. He chuckled through his own moans, pressing a sweet kiss to your swollen lips.

“Good girl,” he grunted, rocking you through your orgasm. “Fucking come for me. You fucking deserve it.”

For the second time, Roy Kent had you seeing stars as your walls gripped him so hard you were almost scared that you’d push him out. But he kept his pace, splitting you open and approaching his own climax.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he mumbled through gritted teeth. “Taking me so fucking well. Gonna fucking come for you.”

The blissed-out look on your face, with your glassy eyes and parted lips, sent him over the edge. He shuddered as he spilled into you, his forehead falling against yours. You groaned, your heart and pussy both fluttering at the feeling of being filled by Roy Kent.

Carefully, he pulled out of you, chuckling at the noise you made, a mix between a hiss and a whine, letting him know that you already missed the feeling of him. He rolled over onto his back, turning his head to gaze at you. You met his eyes with a heavenly smile.

“Well,” you chirped breathlessly, “if that’s the champion treatment, guess I’ll have to keep winning.”

He laughed and reached over to brush some hair out of your face. “I have no doubt that you will.”

You relished the fact that he left his palm on your cheek. “Spend the night.” It wasn’t a request or a question.

“Fucking tempting,” he hummed, letting out a disappointed sigh that had you frowning. “But I’m sharing a room with fucking Jamie. Prick’ll notice if I don’t come back.”

“Will Jamie Tartt wake you up with a blowjob?”

A smile- a wide, joyful smile- spread across that handsome face. “Well in that fucking case-” He pulled you to him and kissed your lips, letting his embrace assure you that, at least for tonight, Roy Kent wasn’t going anywhere.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Shut Up and Drive (Chapter 3)

Roy Kent x F1 Driver!Reader

4.4k words

Warnings: Language, fingering, oral (M receiving), unprotected sex, the start of some serious pining

Thanks as always to @agentstarkid ❤️❤️❤️

Series Masterlist

The entire ride to Leeds, Roy was silent. That wasn’t too unusual; he was never one to join in on the singing and chattering, even when he was a player. But today he pressed his head against the window and thought of nothing but a certain gorgeous racer.

Two weeks had passed since your two trysts at Silverstone, and Roy’s mind had been almost constantly occupied with images of you: throwing your head back as he devoured you, writhing beneath him, grinding on his lap, smiling at him in your racing suit, or being doused in champagne. There was also the image that kept coming back no matter how hard he tried to focus on work: you, lying in bed beside him when he woke up that Monday morning.

As promised, as soon as you were awake your mouth was around his already hard cock. After you’d swallowed everything he gave you, the two of you laid in bed for a bit, his arm lazily around your shoulder, chatting absently about upcoming matches and races and how you both thought those things would go; he was impressed with how much you knew about Richmond, and you were touched by his knowledge of your racing.

When his phone started buzzing with messages from Jamie, asking for the keys to his car so they could start getting ready to leave, he had reluctantly said goodbye to you, pressing a harsh kiss to your still swollen lips. His chest was tight the entire walk back to his room, where he only answered Jamie’s questions and knowing looks with grunts and mumblings of “Fuck off.”

And for two weeks, that tightness had made a permanent home in his chest.

It was still there as he walked down the halls at Elland Road, trying to focus on the upcoming match as he headed to the visitors changing room. He was being stupid; he should appreciate that he got to sleep with you, his absolute fantasy woman, and move the fuck on. Most guys would kill to hook up with you once; he’d gotten to be in your bed twice. He was a lucky man. He shouldn’t feel this fucking miserable.

“Holy shit, is that the Roy Kent? He’s here! He’s there! He’s every-fucking-where!”

Roy froze. He knew that voice; he fantasized about that voice.

When he turned around, his mouth went completely dry. Looking fucking adorable in a Greyhounds sweatshirt and a Ferrari baseball cap, you stood in the middle of the hallway, arms crossed, grinning smugly at him. Although you looked impossibly cool, your heart was pounding wildly as you gazed at him, gorgeous as ever in his trackpants and Richmond shirt.

You both took a few tentative steps towards each other, closing the gap between you. You clasped your hands together as you looked up at him, trying to read the expression on his face; there was definitely confusion and surprise there, but maybe a hint of delight too. There was certainly some lust in his eyes; that was something you could spot easily.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Fuck are you doing here?” The words alone sounded harsh, but when he said it with those bewildered eyes, in that soft, raspy voice, it sounded almost… hopeful.

“Keeley invited me,” you explained, wondering if he could see how white your knuckles were as you squeezed your hands together in an effort to avoid squeezing your thighs instead; you really enjoyed these trackpants and the way they hugged your favorite parts of him. “Woud’ve given you a heads up, but…” When he’d left your hotel room, neither of you had offered up your phone number; you hadn’t wanted to look like you were hoping for anything serious. He hadn’t wanted to appear overly eager.

You’d both left that weekend with a nagging feeling of disappointment.

He nodded, seeming to understand your meaning. “Well, it’s nice. Having you here.” The corner of his kissable mouth tugged upwards. “Maybe you’ll bring us luck, Empress.”

“I’ll do my best,” you hummed, your heart fluttering at the flirty tone in his voice. For a moment, you considered offering to “celebrate” the way you had in Silverstone, but that fretful voice in the back of your head, the one that was convinced he couldn’t possibly be interested in another hookup, stopped you.

He glanced at his watch. “Should get going,” he mumbled. He paused, giving no indication that he was in any hurry to walk away from you. “We usually go out after the match. As a team. You should come.”

Roy invited you to go out with the team. Never mind that Keeley had already done so; he didn’t need to know that. “Sounds great.” His invitation gave you enough nerve to brush your fingers against his. Electricity coursed through your body at the light touch. “Good luck out there, Coach.” You winked as you started to back away. “Not that you need it.” With a coy wave over your shoulder, you turned and walked away, confident that Roy Kent’s eyes were glued to your figure until you were out of sight.

~

A lot of the time Roy could forget his age when he talked to his players, especially his old teammates. Lots of joking and reminiscing, making him forget that he had ten and even twenty years on some of these fellas.

But as he watched these young, fit, handsome men flock to you, all smiles and cockiness as they chatted you up, Roy definitely felt his age. Fucking Granddad indeed.

“Alright there, Roy?” Jamie plopped down beside his coach, whose grasp on his drink was visibly tight. He followed Roy’s gaze across the restaurant the Greyhounds were at well past closing, his mouth forming a perfect O when he saw Dani Rojas making you laugh. “Ah. Don’t like the lads hitting up your girl, eh?”

“Not my fucking girl,” Roy growled, turning his attention to Jamie and wondering if he’d end up breaking this glass with his bare hand. “Barely fucking know her.”

Jamie nodded. “Right. Right. But you like her.” He shrugged at the glare Roy shot him. “I mean, you haven’t taken your eyes off her since we got here. Same at Silverstone.”

Before Roy could tell Jamie to fuck off, someone sat in the chair next to him. He immediately stiffened in more ways than one when he realized it was you and your soft smile.

“Good game, Coach,” you hummed, eyes only for Roy. “Looks like you were right about me bringing you luck.”

He wanted to say something clever, maybe even something flirtatious. But before he could remember how to talk, Richard, Jan, and Thierry sauntered over, affable and confident in a way that made Roy wish he’d just gone back to the hotel after the match.

“We have a little bet going,” Richard announced, confidence oozing charm in that stupid French way women tended to like.

Roy was too busy feeling like shit to notice that the polite smile you gave the guys was not the same coy smile you offered him.

“And what’s that?” you asked, humoring the athletes, wanting to get rid of them so you could see how much flirting you and Roy could get away with without Jamie Tartt noticing.

Thierry’s smirk was clearly one he practiced in the mirror each night. “If you had to go home with one of the Greyhounds,” he teased, “which one would it be?”

Oh fuck this. Roy sat up, ready to tell off his players, to scold them for being so impertinent and honestly really fucking pervy. Especially to someone they had just met- the fucking Empress no less. Was this really how Rebecca fucking Welton’s team treated a renowned female athlete? Richard had the excuse of being, well, French, but really? Fucking Thierry- no, that was actually what one might expect. Okay, so fucking Jan Maas. Roy could yell at Jan Maas.

But your chuckle interrupted his plans. “Ah. And I assume you each bet on yourselves?” You shook your head at their mischievous smirks. “Sorry, gents. Afraid you’re all going back to your hotel rooms alone. No offense, but none of you are quite my type.”

The brief disappointment on each of their faces gave Roy at least a little satisfaction. He should have known better; you didn’t need him to defend you. He’d seen the way you handled sexist interviewers often enough; of course you could deal with a few idiot footballers who’d been drinking a bit too much.

Jan Maas raised his eyebrow at you. “What is your type?”

You wondered if Roy could see the light blush on your cheeks.

“My type,” you repeated with a click of your tongue. “My type.” Your smile widened. “I guess I’d say not the type to go around asking women they’ve barely met to pick one of twenty-five men to hook up with.” The guys were so busy looking ashamed that they didn’t notice your fingertips under the table, barely grazing Roy’s thigh. “Mature. I like my guys more mature than that.”

Properly humbled, the men mumbled their apologies and wandered away, none of them quite able to look you in the eye. Withdrawing your hand from Roy’s leg, you turned back to him- and Jamie, who you’d both forgotten about.

“Sorry ‘bout them,” Roy mumbled. “Fucking idiots.”

You shrugged, letting your leg lightly brush his. “I’ve dealt with worse. Much worse. They were actually pretty tame compared with some things I’ve heard, believe it or not.”

“You handled yourself well,” Roy murmured, eyebrows raised, clearly impressed.

Jamie, whose eyes were darting back and forth between the two of you, cleared his throat. “Gonna go get another drink,” he announced, as if either of you cared. “Want anythin’?” He smiled to himself when you both absently shook your heads, obviously focused on each other.

With Jamie gone, you scooted closer, letting your leg press more firmly against Roy’s now. “Think I should head back to the hotel. Get some rest.” Your voice was low, only for Roy, as you batted your eyelashes. “Think you could walk me back? I don’t know the area well, and it’s pretty dark outside.”

Roy took the hint and downed the rest of his beer. “Honestly, I should be asking you to walk me back with the way you talked to Richard and them.” He stood, nodding towards the door. “Let’s go before fucking Will starts hitting on you or something.”

Ignoring the curious and even knowing glances, you followed Roy out of the restaurant, giving Keeley and Rebecca a small wave and ignoring the wink Rebecca shot you and the obscene gesture Keeley made. It didn’t take a genius to realize how hot you were for Roy Kent, and at this moment, you didn’t care who knew.

You and Roy strolled down the empty street, Roy’s hands stuffed harshly into his pockets; he knew that if he didn’t hide his hands, he’d be trying to hold yours like some fucking teenager. And, despite the fact that the two of you had had your mouths and hands all over each other a couple of times now, Roy felt awfully shy walking next to you. He stared straight ahead, trying to decide if he should invite you to his room or wait for you to invite him to yours.

“Sorry again about the guys,” he mumbled with a scowl. “They were fucking out of line.”

“Honestly, don’t worry about it,” you assured him. “Just make them run some extra laps or some shit.”

Roy snorted. “Oh, they’ll be running til they throw up everything they’ve ever eaten in their lives.”

The hotel was close enough that you really didn’t need Roy to walk you back; but you both knew what you were really after. Otherwise, the two of you wouldn’t be walking through the lobby so briskly and fighting hard to keep your hands off each other.

Without you having to ask, Roy got off of the elevator with you and followed you down the hall to your door; he leaned against the wall and shot you a suggestive look, a man clearly on a very horny mission.

“Don’t suppose you have another bottle of ridiculously expensive scotch in there?” His light tone did nothing to disguise his wicked intentions.

You held the keycard between your fingers, offering a coy shrug as you licked your lips. “I’m not sure. Maybe you could come in and help me look?”

The door had barely clicked shut behind you when Roy had your back pressed against it, his fingers digging into the exposed skin between your jeans and Richmond sweater. His eyes wandered boldly over your figure, letting out a soft groan that had you rubbing your thighs together.

“That sweater looks real fucking good on you,” he muttered, tugging at its hem. “But I bet it looks better on the floor.”

You grinned as you took off your Ferrari cap and tossed it onto a nearby dresser. “That’s so fucking cheesy,” you teased, acting like his words didn’t turn you on. “That the best you got?”

He started pulling at your sweatshirt. “Oh, you want the best I got?”

“Roy Kent, I want everything you’ve got.”

Not caring about slow seduction this time, the two of you sloppily helped each other strip down, throwing jeans and shirts and one black leather jacket into one pile on the floor, leaving you both in your underwear. Roy’s mouth found yours effortlessly, reminding you of exactly why you’d said yes to Keeley so quickly when she invited you to meet her and the team in Leeds. You’d spent each day since she sent that text thinking about exactly this: Roy’s hands exploring your body, leaving a burning path down your skin, your own hands digging into his curly hair, his mouth on yours as if it belonged there.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, his voice managing to be gruffer than usual, thick with wanting.

Your hand ghosted over the more than obvious bulge that rubbed against you enticingly. “How ’bout I show you?”

Before he could answer, you were on your knees in front of him, eyeing him with a cheeky smirk. Keeping his gaze, you brought your lips to his thighs, leaving a trail of wet kisses that had him letting out a shuddering breath. Fuck, his thighs were gorgeous. Thick, strong, covered in that dark hair, flexing under your tongue.

Without a second thought, you gently sunk your teeth into the muscle. You felt your whole body vibrate with pleasure when you saw the way he threw his head back with a surprised moan, your name spilling out of his mouth as naturally as a swear. Smiling against his skin, you pressed a languid kiss to the spot you’d bitten, gliding your tongue over the bitemark that you hoped would be there for a while, a reminder of you and your mouth.

Before Roy could make some cheeky comment, you pulled down his boxers, revealing the cock you’d been thinking of nonstop since Silverstone. Not caring if you looked desperate or needy, you wrapped your lips around him, your groans mingling with his. He tasted even better than you remembered as you swirled your tongue around his tip, savoring the taste of his precum. Your heart skipped a beat when his hands tangled in your hair, his tight grip prompting a whine from your full mouth.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, eyes fluttering as he tried to keep them on the gorgeously filthy view below him. “You look like a fucking angel. A dirty fucking angel, mouth wrapped around my cock all pretty.”

His obscene praise had you humming around him. You gave him your biggest, prettiest eyes as you sucked, enjoying the view. His face was flushed, and his mouth was slacked as he watched you in awe, practically drooling. Both of you were taking mental pictures, already wondering about and hoping for next time.

Even though you could have stayed down there all night, round after round, feeling him throb in your mouth, Roy tugged your hair roughly. “Let’s get you on the fucking bed, gorgeous.”

He offered you his hand and helped you up, tugging you towards the bed that you’d been hoping to get him in. In the blink of an eye, you were on your back with Roy hovering over you, smirk on his handsome face as his slobber-covered tip nudged your clothed core.

“Look at you,” he growled, eyes dark and full of lust as he took in the sight of you beneath him, wriggling with anticipation. “Bet you’ve been waiting for this as long as I have. Bet you’ve been thinking all about Silverstone. Bet you’ve even touched yourself thinking about me.” He rolled his hips, his cock twitching at the moan you let out. “I know I’ve been touching myself and thinking of you,” he whispered in your ear.

You shivered and bucked your hips up into his. “Have you now?” you hummed, guiding one of his hands down to your soaked panties. “You must be awfully relaxed these days, then.”

He chuckled, remembering all the teasing and flirting from the night you met, and pressed an affectionate kiss to your lips as he slid your panties down your thighs, his rough fingers taking their time running down your skin. “Could do with some relaxing right about now.”

With that, he slid two fingers inside you, sighing as he felt you clench around him. Fuck he’d missed the way you felt, the way you sounded. For two weeks he’d been craving this wetness around his fingers, and now that he had you, he wasn’t wasting any time. He pumped in and out, swallowing your moans greedily.

“Roy,” you gasped as your back arched, “need you. Please.”

“Whatever the Empress wants,” he teased, ignoring how close he was to accidentally saying “my Empress”.

He withdrew his fingers from your dripping cunt and brought them to his lips. “Fuck,” he groaned as he licked the tip of his middle finger. “Even better than I remember.” Wickedness flickered across his face. “Want a taste?”

With an obedience you didn’t recognize, you opened your mouth, accepting Roy’s digits between your lips and sucking them with almost as much enthusiasm as you’d shown his cock earlier.

“Good girl.”

Fuck. You weren’t sure what was hotter- Roy’s fingers in your mouth, the taste of yourself on your tongue, his dirty praise, or the feeling of his cock pressing against your soaking entrance.

He removed his fingers, biting his lip when he saw the string of drool attached to his digits. “Fucking hell.” He hungrily kissed your mouth, his tongue roughly grappling with yours to taste every bit of you that he could. As his mouth continued to attack yours, he lined himself up at your entrance and slowly buried himself in you.

“Fuck,” you groaned into his open mouth. “Fuck, Roy, fuck.”

Two weeks of fantasizing and touching yourself and foolishly wondering when you’d see him again was nothing compared to having Roy Kent’s cock throbbing inside you. It stretched you and filled you with the now familiar delicious burn.

“Missed this,” Roy grunted as he set a rough pace. “Missed you.”

Oh shit. The tenderness of his words had your pussy tightening around him, even tighter than the feeling in your chest that grew every time you saw him. With his scowls and his gruffness and his filthy mouth, with his soft eyes and tender smiles and gentle whispers, he was exactly the kind of guy a stupid girl could fall for.

Good thing you weren’t stupid.

You grabbed his biceps, digging in your nails hard enough to leave marks, and wrapped your legs around him to pull him deeper. Yeah, you’d heard the rumors about Roy Kent. All about his stamina and ability, all about the curve in his dick that you discovered didn’t exist. But none of the tabloid fodder did him justice. Especially because no trashy article ever mentioned the fiery gaze that left you a moaning mess in his arms.

He was rougher this time. More desperate, more eager. He’d been in bed with you twice now, didn’t know when his next chance with you would be- if he’d ever even get one- and he was determined to make this one count. So tonight he pounded into you, not caring about how loudly he grunted your name, hoping he’d leave you with some bruises and a hard time walking.

“Roy,” you gasped as he hit that perfect spot deep inside you. “Oh fuck.”

His eyes sparkled. “Oh, we like that?” He hit that spot again, his cock twitching at the sound of your whine. “Again?”

Your desperate nod had him quickening his pace, wanting nothing more than to feel you come around his cock. He reached down between your sweaty bodies and began rubbing your clit, smirking as he watched you fall apart beneath him.

“I’ve got you,” he breathed, kissing your forehead as you squirmed and moaned. “Fucking got you, gorgeous. Wanna see you come for me. Please.”

One more deep thrust to hit that perfect little spot, one more stroke to your clit, and you were gone. You bit down on Roy’s bottom lip, trying to keep from screaming as your vision went white. Your back arched sharply as your cunt tightened around him, desperate for nothing but Roy, Roy, Roy.

“That’s it,” you babbled, one of your hands tugging his curly hair. “There, right there.” You pressed a rough kiss to his mouth, not sure where your moans ended and his began. “Need you to come,” you begged. “Fucking come.”

He nodded, eyes wide and full of lust. “Just for you, gorgeous,” he mumbled. He pressed his sweat-covered forehead to yours as he gave one, two, three more thrusts before filling you up with his release. You gasped at the sensation, groaning as you felt it seeping out of you.

Roy gently collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you with his body. After a moment, he pulled out, leaving you feeling empty and craving a second round. Maybe even a third round if Roy could be persuaded.

“You enjoy that?” he finally managed to grumble playfully as he caught his breath. “Because I had a fucking grand time.”

Your breathless laugh was music to his ears. “Yeah, you could say I enjoyed myself.” You kissed his lips, giggling into his mouth.

He smiled down at you, eyes tracing every little red mark he’d left on your skin. “Think I could spend the night?” he whispered as his thumb stroked your cheek.

“Not worried your team’ll catch you sneaking back to your room in the morning?” you teased, fully intent on keeping this man in your bed all night and as late as you could the next morning.

“Fuck ’em.” He tenderly kissed your nose. “They ask any fucking questions, they’ll be running laps all next practice.” He paused, eyes searching yours. “So, what d’you say? Or are you trying to kick me out of here already?”

You shook your head, not bothering to hide your delight. “You stay as long as you like, Kent.”

In the morning, you rolled onto your back and found Roy, still there, already awake and gazing down at you softly.

“Morning.”

“Morning,” you huffed, tilting your head to steal a small, surprisingly natural kiss. You wondered if he always looked like this in the morning: all soft and sleepy, his hair curlier and wilder than usual, corners of his mouth tugging upwards as his eyes gazed into yours. A tentative part of you wondered if you could wake up to this view again sometime.

Roy sat up a bit, tugging you up to lay your head on his furry chest. “Oi, can I see your phone?”

Confused, you reached over to the nightstand, where you’d managed to toss your mobile at some point in the night between shags. You unlocked it and handed it to him, feeling sparks when your fingers brushed. “What’re you doing?”

He tapped away before handing it back to you. “There. You have my number now. Do me a favor and give me a heads up when you’re coming to a match.” He pressed a kiss to your hair. “Almost had a fucking heart attack yesterday when I saw you.”

“Should I not come to Richmond matches anymore?” Your fake pout had his heart stuttering; he wondered if you could feel it.

“Fuck no. I’m glad you came.” Another kiss to your hair. “Should come again sometime.”

You chuckled and wrapped an arm around his torso. “You talking about football or sex?”

“How about both?”

Before you could make some flirty comment, a buzzing came from the pile of clothes that lay across the room. With a heaving sigh, Roy clambered out of bed and fished his phone out of his jacket pocket. You stifled a giggle at the sight of him wearing nothing but the boxers he’d managed to tug on before falling sleep. Unaware of the way you were staring, he threw his head back and groaned as his mobile vibrated again.

“Gotta fucking go,” he grumbled, digging his black jeans out of the pile of clothes. “One of those pricks fell asleep in the fucking hotel kitchen, so their fucking manager has to go apologize to the staff.”

“Oh.” You sat up as you watched him pull his pants on, his handsome face full of annoyance. Suddenly, you remembered what you were wearing: his black t-shirt. You started to tug it over your head. “Oh, Roy, your-”

“Keep it.” He shrugged his leather jacket over his bare torso, not seeming to care about showing off the hair on his exposed chest. He sat down on the bed next to you and began pulling on his shoes. “Give it back to me next time, alright?”

With that, he leaned close and planted a searing kiss to your lips, one hand cupping your face with a heated mix of tenderness and desire, his mouth letting you know how much he wished he could stay. You knew this kiss would linger long after the door closed behind him.

“Next time,” you echoed against his mouth.

He nodded, smiling as he finally pulled back and stood. “Next time.”

Taglist: @hotdoglamp @daydreamgoddess14 @klaine-92 @gibby31 @anonurs

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Shut Up and Drive Chapter 1

Roy Kent x F1 Driver! F! Reader

3.4k (!!!!!!!!!!!) words

Warnings: Language, smut smut smut, oral (F receiving), Roy Kent being very horny, also I know nothing about F1

Author's Note: Requested by the lovely @agentstarkid. Part one of two (maybe three??? We'll see!). Still learning to write smut sooooooo not sure how good it is?? Honestly this was the horniest writing I have ever done in my life.

Series Masterlist

Roy knew who you were. He knew exactly who you were. Unbeknownst to everyone in his life, he often watched you race on television, he scrolled through tweets about you, he even pictured you sometimes when he was pleasuring himself in the shower.

He was pretty sure he had a racing suit fetish now, thanks to you.

But fuck, you were something to see in person. Especially in what was probably the shortest, tightest dress he’d ever seen. It was borderline indecent- well, the thoughts in his head sure were. Roy Kent felt like a fucking teenager, hoping he wouldn’t get a boner in front of his friends and the press at this stupid party Keeley’d promised would be fun.

Much to Roy’s embarrassment, Keeley tugged him along to say hello with her and Rebecca. The women gave you quick, warm hugs, but your eyes were on Roy, unabashedly running your gaze down his muscular figure with a coolly raised eyebrow.

“The woman of the hour,” Rebecca praised. “Win number six on Sunday, hmm?”

“We’ll see,” you murmured, smirk on your face, the same smirk Roy’d seen dozens of times on television. The same smirk he wanted to kiss right off your face. You tilted your head at him. “Roy Kent,” you greeted, shaking his strong hand. “Didn’t know you like racing.”

Roy gave a curt nod, squeezing your hand reluctantly before letting go, trying to forget the fantasies he’d had about your hands roaming his body. “A bit,” he admitted, much to Keeley and Rebecca’s surprise. “Been following you a lot this season, actually.”

The coy smile on your lips had his head reeling. “I’m honored.”

You’d caught Roy Kent staring at you several times throughout the evening, an intense, fiery gaze that had electricity coursing through your body. You were pretty sure he was imagining what you looked like out of this dress; you knew you were wondering what his fitted suit would look like on your hotel room floor.

You chatted a bit more with the Richmond group, feeling a surge of pride when Rebecca and Keeley mentioned their idea women’s team, teasing Rebecca about how she should invest in Formula 1 instead. Eventually, Keeley got distracted by a very needy Jamie Tartt, and Rebecca saw some old friend who was dying to talk about Ruper Mannion’s losing West Ham, which left you all alone with a broodingly gorgeous Roy Kent.

“I’m glad Keeley managed to get you all out here,” you hummed. “It’s a fun weekend.”

“How d’you know Keeley again?”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Did a magazine shoot together. She was supposed to be hanging seductively off these different drivers, all hot in like a bikini thing while they were in their racing suits. But when it came to me, they weren’t going to include her. But Keels, cheeky thing, insisted on posing the exact same way she had with Daniel and Lando and the rest of them.” The wink you shot Roy was nothing short of erotic. “It was pretty hot. Fucking magazine editor didn’t have the guts to run it, though. Scared little twat.”

Roy wasn’t sure if it was your vulgar vocabulary or the image of you with Keeley in some sapphic pose giving him a hardon. Probably both. Or maybe it was the undeniable bedroom eyes you were shooting him as you sipped your drink through the little black cocktail straw, reminding him of the images he’d created in the shower last night.

“I love this hotel,” you mused, interrupting Roy’s filthy thoughts. “They’re quite lovely. Always make sure my favorite things are in my room when I arrive. Sweets, alcohol, that sort of thing.” You raised your glass. “Better than the stuff they’re serving here, actually.”

Doing his best to maintain the bored face he’d perfected long ago, Roy shrugged. “D’you mind sharing?”

He had to be imagining the way you licked your lipstick-stained lips. “I love sharing.” With a boldness that had Roy biting back a groan, you took his hand and guided him through the crowd until the two of you reached the lift; he was grateful for the other people that filled the small space, forcing you to stand close to him, letting him feel the heat radiating off your exposed skin.

You led him off the elevator and to your suite, no signs of awkwardness or bashfulness as you unlocked your door and gestured for him to enter. Roy had stayed at enough hotels to know that your suite was one of the nicer ones this place had to offer; unsurprising, especially with all the attention you were getting this weekend, what with your sixth win on the horizon.

“Scotch?” you offered, holding up the bottle that Roy knew cost almost as much as some people’s rent.

“Perfect.” Roy helped you find a couple of glasses and watched as you poured each drink generously. He wondered if the small brush of your fingers against his was on purpose as you handed him his glass.

You tapped your glass to his with a clink. “Cheers.”

Roy eyed you as he sipped, his mind racing like your car as it finally dawned on him that the two of you were alone in a hotel room with nothing but alcohol and his bad intentions. And you were peering at him like something to be devoured. Fuck.

“Have a seat,” you urged, plopping yourself down on the couch with ease, crossing your legs and causing your already short dress to ride up, displaying even more of your thigh- on purpose, Roy hoped.

He joined you, doing his best to ignore the slightly ajar door that he knew led to the bedroom.

You closed your eyes and tilted your head back, exposing the neck that Roy desperately wanted to mark up. “This is about the only time I’ll get to relax before Sunday,” you sighed.

“Is that your way of telling me to hurry the fuck up and finish my drink so you can be alone?” Roy joked, hoping he was wrong as he let his arm rest behind you on the couch.

“No.” You opened your bright eyes and tilted your head towards him, your lips curved upwards. “It’s my way of saying it’s nice to have some company.”

Before Roy could think of something clever to say, his mobile vibrated in his pocket. With a heaving sigh, he pulled it out and checked the incoming message: Did I see you get on the lift with one of the racers??? Fucking Jamie needed to mind his own damn business.

“That your girlfriend wondering where you’ve gone off to?” you teased.

Roy couldn’t help his eyeroll as he texted Jamie to Fuck off. “Just Jamie Tartt.”

“Boyfriend then?”

The snort that shot out of his mouth was pure reflex. “Watch it, or you’ll be finishing that bottle of scotch all on your own.”

You turned your body towards his, gazing up at him through thick lashes. “Oh no, we can’t have that.”

Roy felt less like Roy Kent, celebrity, professional footballer, dater of models and actresses, and more like a scared teenage boy hoping his first girlfriend would rub his prick through his jeans in a dark movie theatre. Unsure, embarrassed, hopeful, not a trace of confidence. He’d be annoyed at himself if he wasn’t so busy being turned on by you.

“Feel ready for Sunday?” He had to say something, literally anything, before he flat-out asked you for a shag.

A small huff passed your lips. “Mostly. Just trying to make myself relax.”

I could help with that, Roy thought devilishly, forcing himself to sip his drink so the words didn’t slip out. “How d’you usually relax before a race?”

Finally, you looked as tense as he felt. “You’ll need to get me a lot drunker before I tell you that, Roy Kent.”

Roy’s eyebrows flew up, wondering if you were implying what he thought you were implying. “Oi, I’m getting you drunk? You’re the one who invited me up here, remember?”

Your shoulders relaxed at his razzing. “I know. So forward. My mother would be fucking horrified, me having a man in my hotel room.” Your eyes travelled down his body, not an ounce of shame on your face. “Especially one that looks like you.”

Well, any shred of doubt about your intentions was certainly beginning to disappear.

“I won’t fucking tell if you don’t,” Roy quipped, his own smirk finally forming.

You wrinkled your nose playfully. “Dunno if I can trust you. How do I know you’re not going to call my mum and tell her that you were in my room at this indecent hour?”

His confidence was finally beginning to show its face. “Because then you’d call my mum to tell her I’m in your room at this indecent hour.” His eyes were practically glued to your smirk.

 “Guess it’s our little secret then,” you purred.

“If I’m keeping this secret,” Roy began, eyebrows raised teasingly, “then maybe you can trust me with telling me how you relax before a race.”

You let out a scoffing laugh, one of the sexiest sounds Roy had ever heard. “Come on, Kent. You’re a big boy. I’m sure you can figure it out.” Your light shove to his shoulder had him growing harder. “You probably do the same thing before a big match.”

Yep. You were implying what he thought you were implying.

His silence worried you for a moment. “Not scandalizing you, am I?”

“No,” he murmured, brushing his fingers along your bare thigh, watching your face carefully to make sure he was reading you correctly. “Just thinking.”

“About?” you hummed, leaning towards him.

He licked his lip and flattened his palm, covering your thigh with his rough hand. “All I can think about… is how good you’re going to taste.” His hand began traveling towards the high hem of your dress. “If you’d like help with relaxing, that is.”

You pretended that his words didn’t have your pussy pulsing. “What a gentleman,” you cooed, bringing one hand up to his bicep and giving a flirty squeeze. “I’d love some help.”

That touch and your words snapped something in Roy’s mind. He leaned forward and captured your mouth in a rough kiss, not bothering to play nice as his tongue pushed its way past your lips. His calloused fingertips dipped under your dress, squeezing the doughy flesh of your thigh, eliciting a soft groan from you.

“Don’t want to mess with your pre-race ritual,” he huffed as his lips travelled down your jaw.

You shook your head and gripped his curly hair. “That’s alright,” you muttered, craning your neck to grant him access to as much skin as possible. “Usually think about you anyways.”

He jerked his head back, eyes wide and full of wonder and lust. “Me?”

“You, Roy Kent,” you confirmed, amused by the sweet tone coming out of his already swollen lips. “What can I say? Football’s sexy.”

“Almost as sexy as racing.” With that, he gripped your hips and pulled you onto his lap; you swallowed a moan when his already considerable bulge rubbed against your clothed core.

Despite your effort to play cool, Roy knew the contact affected you. He pushed his hips up into you, savoring the groan you were unable to hold back this time. So, he jerked upwards again. And again. And again. He bounced you on his lap, getting more pleasure out of the clothed humping than any other hookup he’d ever had. Your head thrown back, eyes shut, bottom lip between your teeth- even with clothes on, you were Roy’s every fantasy come true.

But Roy Kent didn’t come to your room for a clothed fantasy.

“That dress’s been driving me mad all night,” he admitted, giving a particularly rough buck upwards. “Kind of fucked up of you to still be wearing it.”

That cocky smirk returned. “Better do something about it,” you challenged.

He reached behind your back and tugged at the zipper, roughly pulling it down. Between the two of you, he was able to remove the dress without letting you off his lap.

His hands slid down your figure, roughly gripping every inch of skin he could; you were a fucking dream, even more perfect than he’d let himself imagine. It almost hurt to look at you. It actually did kind of hurt, since his pants were painfully tight.

“Let me spoil you,” he huffed, his already firm grip on you tightening. “Let me make you feel really fucking good.”

You nodded, clearly desperate for anything Roy Kent would give you. “Bedroom.”

His arousal stronger than his shitty knees, Roy stood, holding you against himself as you wrapped your legs around him, crossing your ankles behind his back and planting sloppy kisses to his neck. He shouldered the door open and gently laid you on the bed, biting his lip as he gazed down at you, eyes already glassy and face flushed. How could someone he had such dirty thoughts about look so angelic?

He hovered over you and let his hand trail down your body at a painfully slow pace, cherishing your involuntary shiver. He began to tug at your strapless bra, looking at you playfully.

“The fuck are you doing still wearing this?” he hummed.

You sat up on your elbows and let him unhook your bra. You couldn’t resist rolling your eyes and giggling as he tossed it casually over his shoulder.

“Much better.”

Roy’s eyes widened as he let himself marvel at your breasts, groaning when he saw your nipples already beginning to swell. He raised his eyebrows at you, even more turned on when he saw the eager expression on your face. He kept his eyes on yours as he lowered his face to your chest, giving a kitten lick to your nipple. The sigh you let out encouraged him to begin his rough assault on your breasts: biting, licking, sucking. As he swirled your nipple with his tongue, you began bucking up towards him, desperate to feel that friction again.

“Is someone needy?” he teased, winking at you.

“Thought you wanted to help me relax,” you huffed, tangling your hands in his hair.

He removed his face from your breast, resting his chin between them; his soft expression clashed with the hardness you felt below his waist. “This isn’t relaxing?” he crooned.

You stroked the soft hair between your fingers. “I just need some attention somewhere else.” You took one of his hands in yours and guided it down your body towards your panties, a little lacy pair that had Roy melting when his fingers grazed the already soaking material.

Fuck. Roy’d never been with a woman so fucking direct with what she wanted. It was so damn sexy; if he wasn’t careful, he’d end up falling in love with you by the end of the night.

“Silly thing’s in my way,” he mumbled, tugging down the material. He sat up so he could slide them down your legs, his mouth following his hands and pressing kisses to your skin. With your panties out of the way, he gazed up at your core. “Fuck,” he breathed, for once feeling like his favorite word wasn’t strong enough.

He brought his face between your legs, mesmerized by the sight before him.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he cooed, his hot breath making you squirm. He tore his gaze from your pussy to look into your eyes. “Let me have a taste.”

His voice was wrecked, begging. His eyes were wild with desire and hunger. You’d never seen a man look so desperate before; the sight had you spreading your legs for him.

“Always wanted to know what that dirty mouth of yours could do.”

In an instant, his mouth was on your sex, a moan immediately escaping him and vibrating against you. You threw your head back, one hand tangling in his hair while the other came up to grab your breast. You groped yourself, feeling like you’d float away if you didn’t grab tight to something.

Roy was relentless. His tongue flicked your clit, sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body with each rough stroke. His stubble rubbed against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs; you knew the spot would be completely red in the morning, but right now the harsh scratching only added to your pleasure.

His hands gripped your thighs, forcing your legs further apart to give himself deeper access. When his tongue moved away from your clit, you gave a high-pitched whine, not caring if you sounded needy. If anything, it only turned Roy on even more. Your whine turned to a moan when his tongue began lapping at your wetness, devouring you like you were his last meal.

The sounds that filled your hotel room were lewd. His moaning against your core, you beginning to chant his name desperately, and the obscene wet sounds of his tongue exploring your cunt. When his tongue dipped inside your warmth, you saw stars. He swirled his tongue, trying to reach as deep as he could, unable to believe that any part of his body was inside you.

He felt so fucking dirty, eating you out while keeping his own clothes on. He’d never done that before; normally, his clothes would be long gone by now. But, maybe for the first time ever, he didn’t give a shit about his own pleasure. He wanted nothing more than to worship at the altar of your hips, giving you everything he could and lapping up everything you offered him. Right now, in this hotel room, on this bed, Roy Kent existed for the sole purpose of chasing your high.

He was needy, desperate, rutting his hips into the mattress as his tongue continued to explore you. He returned to your throbbing clit and began sucking on it, spurred on by the way you roughly pulled his hair. Your back arched off the bed, as if you were possessed by Roy’s devilish tongue. You sure as hell felt like you were.

“You taste beautiful,” he groaned against your heat. “Want to fucking taste you forever.”

“I’d let you,” you managed to gasp, feeling like something in you was about ready to snap.

Roy chuckled darkly against your sex. “If you’re still talking in complete sentences, I’m not doing my fucking job.”

With that, he dove back in, his mouth brutal and merciless, almost mean in its attack on your sensitive bundle of nerves. He felt a surge of pride as your moans became more ragged, your tugs at his hair became erratic, and your legs began to squeeze the sides of his head.

“Fuck, Roy,” you cried, your eyes suddenly as wet as your core. “Gonna- gonna-”

You didn’t need to say it. Roy felt the throbbing of your clit, his cue to return to your cunt to lap up your juices; some perverse part of him wanted to bottle the stuff and drink nothing else for the rest of his life. Instead, he ravished you, not caring that your body began to writhe from the overstimulation; he wasn’t going to waste a single exquisite drop. Your vision went white, and you swore you were going to pass out. Fuck, if you died right now- which felt like a very real possibility- you weren’t sure where you’d go, because heaven was Roy Kent’s tongue.

Satisfied that he’d gotten every last bit that you’d dripped out, Roy lifted his head to look at you, his ragged breathing filling the now quiet room. His beard was soaked, practically dripping with your wetness. His wild eyes bore into yours as he crawled up your body, hands gripping the sheets as he hovered above you. Without a word, he captured your lips in a deep, fervid kiss, sharing your delicious taste with you.

Finally coming back down to earth, you tugged at the collar of his shirt, a teasing smile forming on your glistening lips. “How the fuck do you still have clothes on?” Roy had thought you moaning his name was his new favorite sound; instead, he now knew that it was your breathless, post-orgasm voice.

“Wanted to focus on you,” he answered, giving your nose a tender kiss.

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Roy Kent. Absolute gentleman in bed. I’ll make sure to write that on the stall in the ladies’ room.” You ground your hips into his, relishing the knowledge that you were leaving a wet stain on his trousers. “Should we fix your clothing situation then?”

To your absolute shock, Roy shook his head. “This was for you to relax before the race, remember?” His tender expression gave way to a look you could only describe as sinful. “You can take my pants off after you win on Sunday.”

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Shut Up and Drive (Chapter 7)

Roy Kent x F1 Driver!Reader

5.2k words

Warnings: Language, Roy being kind of a dom, unprotected sex, kind of cum play, fingering, some overstimulation, lots affection and fluff

@agentstarkid more brain rot and alllllll the fluff!

A/N: Going to be taking a week off from this story to do some planning! Excited for the next few chapters! 😘

Series Masterlist

After roughly wiping down your thighs, mumbling something about them getting ruined again anyways, Roy’s dark eyes trailed up your sweat-covered body as he bent down to pick your panties off the floor. Keeping your gaze, he stuffed the drenched lace into his pocket and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“You got your room key?” he asked huskily. Your muted nod had him smirking at you. “Then let’s go.”

He quickly tugged down your dress to cover your bare cunt, briefly letting his fingers ghost over your entrance, chuckling at your soft gasp. Keeping his arm around you, Roy swiftly moved the chair back where it belonged and guided you through the door.

Before you stepped fully into the hallway, you looked up at him, eyes wide and wild. “Could I borrow your jacket?” you hissed.

“Why?”

“M’back’s probably full of fucking hickeys,” you reminded him pointedly.

Roy’s normally soft brown eyes were nearly black. “What, you don’t want anyone seeing my teeth marks on you?” His grip dug into your hip harshly as his mouth found your ear. “Oh no, Empress. I want everyone to see what you’ve been up to.” His eyes trailed down your figure for a moment. “Although, you may want to walk quickly. Unless you want something to start leaking out of you- then everyone will know all the things you let me do to you.”

Shit. Should you really be this turned on by how… mean Roy was being? By the devilish way he looked at you? By the deep, gruff growl he spoke with? By the way his hand was very publicly just above your ass, as if you were his possession?

Whether or not you should be turned on… well, you definitely fucking were.

When you gave a little wobble in your heels, Roy tightened his grip with a dark laugh. “Look at you,” he tutted, his own stride strong, confident, steady. “Like fucking Bambi over here, can’t even fucking walk, poor thing. Better get you in bed.” But the hungry look on his face told him you wouldn’t be resting once you got there.

As you focused on trying to remember how to walk on your wobbly legs, Roy scanned the lobby. With the early morning hour and the party still raging behind you, it was fairly empty, most people paying no mind to the football legend and F1 star, both flushed and disheveled, making their way to the lifts that led up to the lavish bedrooms.

Really, only one person noticed.

Isaac McAdoo’s eyes widened when he saw the two of you. Yeah, the guys had teased Roy about his obvious little crush on you. And Jamie clearly thought it went beyond just the crush and was fully convinced that there was a romance starting. But, shit, he didn’t expect to actually see Roy with his arm around you, making a beeline for the elevators.

Roy froze for a fraction of a second when he noticed his captain, a stop so brief you didn’t even notice. He gave Isaac a steely nod across the lobby, assuring his player that yes, his eyes were working correctly- and that he’d better keep his mouth shut.

With raised eyebrows, Isaac nodded back. Shit, good for Roy, he thought. The man deserved some fun. And Isaac sure as hell wasn’t about to rat him out.

Refocusing on his mission, Roy steered you to the lift, practically punching the button and chewing on his bottom lip as the elevator made its way down. Once the doors opened, Roy quickly tugged you inside. You immediately pressed your floor number and turned to Roy, whose mouth was on your neck the moment the doors closed again.        

“Remember what you said that night we met?” he hummed against your skin. “Your mother being horrified about you having a man in your room?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, hands exploring Roy’s back, your tight grip keeping you upright.

He left you a new bite mark. “What I’m about to do to you would probably fucking kill both our mums,” he teased, pulling back when he heard the ding of the elevator. “Lead the way.”

With Roy’s hand now grabbing your ass, you walked as fast as your weak legs could carry you, both excited and apprehensive about what Roy had planned for you. Whatever it was, you knew it would leave you even weaker in the knees. And it would probably be something you’d think about while alone in bed.

Your fingers fumbled with your cardkey a little at the door, prompting Roy to grab the card out of your hand and press it to the reader himself.

“You poor thing,” he cooed as he opened the door. “Am I making you nervous, darling?”

As you stepped into your room, you found your boldness again. “Oh, I’m sorry, are you trying to make me nervous, Kent?” you teased, tugging him by the belt loop to follow you inside.

His thick eyebrows flew up. “Are we being rude again, Empress?” He locked the deadbolt on your door pointedly. “Do we need a reminder about our fucking manners?”

Yeah, your dress was probably ruined at this point; you were soaking wet for him. “I think we do,” you hummed, your voice thick and mischievous.

“In that case…” He pushed you towards the bed, his hands flying to his trousers. “You better take that dress off. And I want to see you ready on all fours.”

How did he manage to make his voice sound deeper than usual? “Yes, Coach,” you purred, turning your back to him. Knowing that he had those dark eyes trained on you, you slowly unzipped your dress and let it fall into a puddle on the floor, quickly unhooking your bra and adding it to the pile. After stepping out of your heels- and finding that you were still having trouble standing even without them- you quickly got on the bed, lifting your ass to give Roy the view he wanted.

“Fucking hell,” he rasped, the sound of his approaching footsteps enough to have you clenching around nothing. “That for me?” His hands were warm on your ass as he gripped tightly, kneading the flesh roughly. “Or is this for some pretty boy?”

You arched your back, melting under his touch. “For you,” you breathed, closing your eyes. “All for you, Roy Kent.”

He shivered at the sound of his name dripping from your lips like honey, the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

The mattress dipped as he joined you on the bed, settling behind you. One hand slithered up your back, gently tracing one of the purple marks he’d given you. “Fucking gorgeous,” he murmured. “All mine.” You whimpered when you felt his tip brush your sensitive entrance. “Tell me,” he ordered softly. “Tell me how much you want this cock.”

You squirmed towards him, desperate to feel him inside you again. “Need you,” you gapsed. “Need you so fucking bad, Roy.” You turned your head to look over your shoulder at him. “Only you.”

His soft grunt was heavenly as he sank into you, watching the way you rocked back to meet him. The long, low moan that poured out of your mouth had him twitching inside you and reaching up to grab a fistful of your hair. His gentle tug had a smile curling on your lips; fuck, you liked this side of Roy, all mean and possessive and needy. It had you feeling wanted in a way you’d never experienced, in a way you didn’t want to let go of.

As if he could read your mind, Roy pulled out and rammed back into you roughly, jolting your entire body. “Don’t want you to be able to walk tomorrow,” he growled, giving a harsher tug to your hair. “Want you to spend the whole day in bed, thinking about me.” He slammed into you over and over, a rough, desperate rhythm that had your legs already shaking. “You looked so fucking good tonight,” he grunted. “Who’d you look so fucking pretty for? Hmm? Another driver? That pretty prick? Someone else?”

“For you,” you panted, fingers gripping the sheets. “Just for you.”

Roy’s chuckle was empty and dark. “That why you were hiding from me? And hanging all over him?” As if to show you his hurt and frustration, he gave a particularly rough thrust that had your face buried into a plump pillow.

You tilted your head to the side and blew some stray hair out of your face. “Dunno,” you huffed. Another moan escaped your lips as he pounded your aching cunt over and over, making it hard to think clearly, let alone actually answer Roy’s question. “’m sorry.”

His movements paused, leaving you whining as your pussy clenched around him. “Prove it,” he taunted. “Prove you’re fucking sorry.” The confused whimper you gave had him smirking at you. “Fuck yourself on my cock, pretty girl.”

It was kind of pathetic how quickly you did as he demanded. But sure enough, you braced yourself against the mattress and rutted back into him, choking back a sob as you felt his cock hit that perfect spot deep inside you.

“Again,” came his gruff command.

Arms shaking, you repeated the movement. And again. And again. Your body was exhausted as you thrust against him, feeling his hips slam against your bare ass. He let go of your hair and settled both hands on your hips with a bruising grip, gritting his teeth.

“Make yourself come,” he hissed, his fingers digging into your skin. “Be a good girl and make that gorgeous cunt come for me.” His smirk returned.

Desperate to please him and feel those familiar waves of pleasure, you quickened your pace, panting and whimpering as you sloppily fucked Roy, not caring about looking pretty for him; not that he minded. With the beads of sweat that trailed down your neck and the way your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you chased your high, you were sinfully beautiful to Roy.

Fuck, a man could fall in love with this view.

“Roy,” you sobbed, feeling like you were going to fall apart. “’m gonna- ‘m gonna-”

“Come for me, baby.”

He took over for you, driving his cock deep inside you, his chest warming with pride as he felt you tighten around his cock. Your walls fluttered around him, squeezing and clenching, as if nothing else could ever satisfy you; and fuck, maybe that was true. Your cunt was overwhelmed from the third orgasm Roy took from you, spasming with pleasure as your limbs lost all feeling. As your vision went white, your arms gave out beneath you; only Roy’s firm grip kept you from completely collapsing onto the mattress. He watched carefully as your body went limp under his touch. Satisfied that you were coming down from your high, he tenderly pulled out of you, still hard and throbbing.

The side of your face was still pressed to the pillow as you gazed at his cock, practically drooling at the sight. “Roy?” you croaked out, eager for him to follow you into post-orgasm bliss.

With a wicked glint in his eye, he gently turned you onto your back, tutting sympathetically at your wince. “Remember what I said on the phone?” he hummed, leaning down to grope your breast with one hand as he stroked his rigid length with the other. “Wanna see you all covered up.”

Your body went scorching hot as you wriggled with anticipation; this was definitely an image you’d conjured up more than a few times since Roy had mentioned the idea. And after tonight, seeing how painfully jealous he’d gotten, your bruised cunt continued to throb at the idea of Roy making you his in such a dirty way.

He licked his lips as he watched your squirming figure, already filled with his release, three orgasms leaving you a disheveled, glistening mess. There you were, the Empress. The woman who’d long occupied many of his fantasies and had been filling most of his thoughts since Silverstone. Earlier tonight, you had another man’s hands on you, and before that, you were standing on a podium, covered in champagne, adoring fans screaming your name. And now there you were, gazing up at him with tired, lust-filled eyes, practically begging him to cover you with his release.

How could the most miserable man in the world get so fucking lucky?

“Want me to come for you?” he grunted, feeling so dirty as he stroked himself, his whole body trembling. “All over those pretty, pretty tits?”

Your desperate nod had him twitching in his hand. “All over me,” you purred, back arching. “Because I’m yours.”

Fuck.

Roy felt like his whole body was filled with electricity as he pumped his cock, shooting his release onto your breasts, his mouth open wide in awe as he watched his stickiness mix with your sweat. His eyes widened as he watched you, completely fucked out and in something of a daze, lift your head and stick out your tongue- a pathetic attempt to lick up the mess he’d made on you.

Jaw slacking, he bent over you and used two fingers to scoop up some of his cum, not bothering to hold back his groan when you greedily devoured what he offered you, swirling his fingertips with your tongue as you licked his digits clean.

“You…” He shook his head, cupping your cheek with his clean hand. “You are so fucking perfect,” he chuckled, all darkness gone from those soft brown eyes. He gazed down your spent body, gulping when he realized the absolute mess he’d made of you. “Let me…” He cleared his throat. “Fuck, let me clean you up, gorgeous.” He pressed a tiny kiss to your forehead and climbed off the bed, pausing only to grab his discarded boxers off the floor as he walked to the bathroom.

With a soft sigh, you gazed up at the ceiling, thinking about how jealous Roy had gotten, how possessive he was. How hurt he’d looked when you found him in the hallway. A man doesn’t get that way over just some hookup, you thought.

He returned with a damp washcloth, sitting down on the bed without a word. Tenderly, gently, he wiped down your body, cleaning your chest and between your legs. When he finished, he leaned down and kissed your lips softly.

“Bathroom?”

When you nodded, he swiftly lifted you, wincing a little when his knee cracked, and carried you to the restroom.

“Roy,” you giggled, “you don’t have to-”

He kissed your mouth again, a little deeper now. “Hush. Fucking let me take care of you.”

After you finished in the restroom, Roy picked you up again, laying you gently on the bed. The smile he offered you was the absolute softest, most adoring smile you’d ever seen in your life.

“As much as I love this body of yours, let’s get some fucking clothes on you, yeah?”

Suddenly, you had energy again, scrambling to sit up. “Oh, let me grab-”

A firm hand pushed you back down. “I said let me take care of you.” With a teasing smirk, Roy stood up and crossed over to the dresser. “Your stuff in here? Or have you been living out of your fucking suitcase all weekend?”

Feeling bashful for the first time all night, you bit your lip. “Second drawer,” you huffed.

Shooting you a quizzical look at the sight of your sudden timidness, Roy opened the drawer and pulled out a fresh pair of underwear. He cocked his head as something familiar caught his attention. “Oi, is this…” He turned around with raised eyebrows, holding up a black t-shirt. “Is this mine?”

“Maybe,” you mumbled, averting your gaze and suddenly feeling… exposed.

Roy felt like his heart was going to explode out of his chest as he returned to bed. “And why do you have my shirt?” he hummed as he slipped your panties over your ankles. “Why’d you bring that thing all the way to fucking Belgium?” His eyes sparkled mischievously as he tugged up your underwear, following the material with a sprinkling of light kisses up your legs.

You weren’t sure if your squirming was from embarrassment or the kisses on your sensitive skin. “Just… dunno.” You gave a little huff. “Smells like you,” you murmured.

“Smells like me,” Roy repeated. He pressed the tiniest of kisses to your pussy before pulling your panties over it. “You like the way I smell, then?”

Despite your embarrassment, you smiled at him. “Maybe,” you hummed. You sat up, reaching for said t-shirt.

He paused, thoughtfulness crossing his bearded face. “Lemme see your back.” He winced when you leaned forward, showing off the smattering of purple marks and bites he’d left. “Shit.” Popping his lips, he stood up and went to the bathroom, emerging with another washcloth. “Right, turn over then.”

With a small squeak, you flipped onto your belly, realizing how fucking sore you were. Roy gently pressed the washcloth to your back, his face heated with embarrassment as he took in the evidence of his behavior. Not exactly what he’d had in mind when he’d agreed to come to Belgium.

“’m sorry,” he finally breathed as he continued to nurse your back. “I… your back…” He cleared his throat. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you chuckled. “Honestly, it’s fine.”

He sighed and laid a small kiss on a particularly dark hickey. “If there… if you… if you didn’t like that, I will never act like that again.” His voice was rushed, thick with awkwardness. “Don’t fucking know what came over me.”

You tilted your head to look at his furiously blushing face. “Roy,” you said firmly, the corners of your mouth lifting. “I actually enjoyed myself. Hopefully the three orgasms I had are evidence enough of that, hmm? As for what came over you…” You turned back over and sat up, taking one of Roy’s hands in yours. “I think you were suffering from green eyes, hmm?”

Roy grunted as he tossed the washcloth onto the nightstand. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, an embarrassed grin crossing his face as he picked up the black t-shirt. “Arms.” You lifted your arms, allowing Roy to tug the shirt over your head, covering your body comfortably. “Under the covers, you.”

Rolling your eyes at his avoidant behavior, you scrambled under the blankets, thrilled to see him join you; without any prompting, Roy Kent was spending the night. He wrapped an arm around you carefully, tugging you close.

“Roy?”

“Yeah?”

You shifted so you were facing him, hooking one still-weak leg over his hip. “You don’t need to be jealous, you know that?” You pressed a kiss to his furry chest, right over his heart. “You never need to be jealous. Not… not when it comes to me.”

He paused for a moment, not quite looking at you. “I just… didn’t like seeing his hands on you,” he whispered, stroking your waist. “Especially after you didn’t invite me to come here.”

“That’s fair,” you agreed. “I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you want me here?” His voice was full of that same hurt you’d seen in the hallway.

You pressed your body close to his, tilting your head so you were finally looking each other in the eye. “I…” You took a deep breath. “Things are just… different. This isn’t… this isn’t just sex for me anymore, Roy.”

It felt like the longest ten seconds in the world before Roy opened his mouth again. “I… don’t think it’s ever been just sex for me.”

For once, you didn’t bother hiding your smile from him. Instead, you pressed your lips to his, probably the softest you’d kissed him since you’d met. His hand snaked up your back, gripping you softly, careful not to press those purple marks he’d left you. When he finally broke the kiss, Roy was smiling so broadly you thought his face would break.

“You better get some rest,” he breathed, pecking your nose. “Some horrible bastard was pretty mean to you tonight.”

With a smirk, you settled in his arms, tiredness overcoming your exhausted body. “Yeah. But he’s pretty hot, so I’d let him do it again.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he growled playfully, snuggling close as you finally closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep.

~

Roy’s sleepy smile was the first thing you saw when you woke up. He was sitting up already, one arm wrapped around you as you rested on his stomach.

“Morning,” came his gruff, gentle voice as his free hand stroked your cheek. “Sleep well?”

You nodded, stretching. “Always sleep well after… you know.” A small groan escaped your swollen lips as you realized how heavy your entire body was, how it felt like it could melt through the mattress and onto the floor. With an involuntary grimace, you genuinely wondered how the fuck you were supposed to walk.

Of course, Roy noticed. “Alright there?”

“Tired,” you mumbled, bringing up one of your heavy arms to wrap around his middle. “Had a bit of a rough night,” you teased.

A kiss landed on the top of your head. “Which you took very well,” Roy murmured, in that thick, syrupy voice he’d mocked you with last night. Already, it had your sore pussy throbbing with excitement. As if he could tell, his hand slid down your back until it rested firmly on your ass. “You were such a good girl.”

The sound of your breath hitching and the sight of your furious blush spurred him on. Without warning, Roy pulled you up until you were sitting between his thick thighs, your back pressed against his bare chest. Instinctively, you leaned into him, craning your neck to grant him access, which he thanked you for with a sloppy kiss to your collarbone.

“Want me to take care of you?” he breathed as he used one hand to pry your sore thighs open. “Want me to make you feel good?” The whimper that spilled from your lips was all he needed to encourage him to tug your panties to the side and let two fingers explore your already wet cunt. “Oh, darling,” he cooed. “She’s still soaked.”

“Roy,” you gasped as his fingers began to spread your lips, smearing your wetness over yourself. “Don’t think I can-”

His tongue traced a heart on your neck. “Shh, I know baby,” he whispered. “Just let me make you feel good, yeah?” He kissed your temple as his middle finger inched into you. “Let me spoil you.”

For the second time in less than twelve hours, Roy Kent buried his finger inside your wetness, groaning softly as you tightened around him. Your hands gripped his thighs, needing something to anchor you to reality as you melted into pleasure. Your thighs trembled as he slowly pumped into your aching cunt, shaky breaths and soft moans letting Roy know he was doing his job.

His strokes were slow and deliberate, just like the deep kisses he pressed to your neck. He cherished every detail about you: your beautiful little whimpers, the way you pressed yourself against him, the squelching sound from under the covers. After a particularly desperate moan, Roy added a second finger, smirking at the way your body trembled against his. Fuck, he could do this all day. All week. Hell, for the rest of his life.

“You did so well last night,” he hummed, dragging his fingers against your fluttering walls. “So fucking good for me, you know that, beautiful?” An open-mouthed kiss found your neck. “You were perfect, my perfect girl.”

Your eyes fluttered as you squirmed against him. “Roy,” was all you could manage, your strangled voice letting him know you were approaching your climax.

“And all mine,” he continued as his thumb rubbed your clit gently; he chucked when your entire body jerked. “You like being all mine, gorgeous?”

“Yours,” you answered, more a whine than a moan as you began to roll your hips into his hand.

His free arm wrapped around your middle, stilling you. “Uh-uh, Empress.” He kissed your cheek, his beard tickling your skin. “Allow me.”

With that, he thrust his fingers deeper into you, not stopping until his digits completely disappeared into your cunt. He repeated the move, over and over, fucking you gently as the pad of his thumb continued pressing into your clit. When he felt you desperately clench around his fingers, he finally quickened his pace, giving you exactly what your body wanted.

“Think you could come for me one more time, baby?” His voice was practically begging as his grip around your tummy tensed. “Think you’ve got one more for me?”

Your eyes rolled back, and you were pretty sure there was a little drool in the corner of your mouth. It felt like you were going to shatter into a million pieces as Roy expertly dragged over your clit and slid his tongue over your skin. With one perfect little bit of pressure to your bundle of nerves, Roy had you falling apart in his arms, a beautiful, whimpering little mess on his lap. When you tilted your face to his, he captured your mouth in a kiss, swallowing your pretty noises as he pumped in and out of your aching cunt.

When your moans turned to soft gasps, Roy eased his fingers out of you, laughing lovingly at your disappointed whine. As his hand emerged from under the covers, you slumped against his body and expectantly opened your mouth.

“Oh no,” Roy chuckled. “This is all mine, baby.” With that, he brought his fingers to his mouth, a deep moan vibrating against you as he sucked his digits clean. “Fuck, you are the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.” He kissed your mouth harshly, a kiss full of joy and affection. “Think I could taste you forever.”

He let you lay on top of him, listening as your breaths became steady again. You weren’t sure how much time passed, but eventually the two of you found yourselves laying down, your head on Roy’s chest, his hand in your hair. It was peaceful, just as natural as any rough, semi-public fling you’d shared. As you listened to his heartbeat, you found yourself speaking without thinking.

“I’ve got a month off,” you hummed. “Think I could meet you at a few away games?”

He wondered if you could hear his heart skip a beat. “Come to as many matches as you want. Home, away, all of ’em. Hell, come stay in Richmond the whole fucking month. I’d fucking love that.”

“Yeah?” You brought yourself up, laying your chin on his chest. “Don’t think you’d get sick of me, Kent?”

“Could never get sick of you,” he assured you, poking your nose affectionately. “Honestly. If you’re interested, you should come hang out in Richmond. We’d have fun, I think.” His eyes searched yours. “If you want.”

Your bright smile had his chest tightening with joy. “Yeah. We’d have fun.” You pressed a kiss to his chest. “Guess I’m spending my break in Richmond.” You reached for the nightstand. “Hand me my phone? Gonna go ahead and book my hotel.”

Roy squirmed beneath you, a complete change from the confidence he’d shown earlier in the morning. “Actually… what would you say to staying with me?”

“Staying with you,” you echoed, wondering if he could feel the heat that covered your body. You thought a moment; that little voice of doubt that seemed to always come around when Roy was on your mind screamed at you to stop, to ask him to leave, to end it here and now before things went too far and you found yourself shattered again.

But another voice was begging you to let this man, with his brown eyes and growling voice, adore you the way he wanted to.

“I mean,” Roy continued, glancing away. “We’re probably going to end up in bed together every other night, anyway. Saves us the back and forth. And I’ve got a guest room if you get sick of my fuckign snoring.”

His sudden shyness had you making your decision.

“I’d love to.” You reached up and traced his lips with your finger. “Although, ending up in bed together every other night? You’re underestimating us, Kent.”

The joyful laugh that flew out of his mouth was interrupted by the sound of his phone vibrating next to yours on the nightstand. “Hold that thought.” He picked it up and glanced at it, immediately throwing his head back with a groan. “Fucking hell,” he sighed. “Gotta get ready to meet the guys.” He studied your face for a moment. “Don’t suppose you’d want to come with us? You’ve already got a suitcase.”

That earnest look on his face had you feeling like an entire zoo was living in your stomach.

“As much as I’d love to travel with you and Jamie and Sam and Isaac,” you teased, “I’d like more than just a few days’ worth of clothes. And besides-” You pulled your face to Roy’s, tapping his nose with yours. “-I’ve got a drawer full of lingerie back in Monaco. Don’t you think I’ll need some of those things in Richmond?”

His eyes widened for a fraction of a moment. “Yeah, you should definitely go home and pack whatever you need,” he agreed in a half-joking voice. “I’m a patient man, I’ll see you in Richmond.”

You kissed his lips happily. “See you in Richmond.”

~

It took some effort on both of your parts to finally say goodbye, promising to see each other soon. Roy felt like he was walking on air as he eventually made his way down to the lobby with his duffel bag. What a difference one night could make; he’d woken up Sunday morning feeling more miserable than usual, and this morning he was fighting a grin every time he pictured your pretty face.

It didn’t take a genius to notice, so he shouldn’t have been surprised by Jamie Tartt’s smug expression.

“Where’d you end up last night, Roy?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows. “You never came back to the party.”

He shrugged, doing his best to keep a straight face. “Fucking went to bed.”

Jamie winked at him. “And whose bed would that be?”

Sam clapped his hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “Oh, leave him alone.” His eyes sparkled mischievously. “Roy’s not the kind of guy to kiss and tell.”

Before Roy could tell his players to fuck off, Isaac approached, sunglasses on his nose and backpack on his shoulder. As Jamie and Sam turned to begin walking out of the hotel, Isaac looked at Roy over the top of his sunglasses, eyebrows raised slightly. Roy offered him a smirk and shrug, bobbing his head. With the smallest of grins, Isaac held up his fist, which Roy tapped with his own, cementing an unspoken understanding between the two men.

As Roy stepped out of the hotel, listening to his players chatter about how much fun they had, his phone vibrated. He swiftly pulled it out, shoulders softening when he read the four little words on his screen:

See you in Richmond ❤️

Taglist:@hotdoglamp@daydreamgoddess14@klaine-92@gibby31@anonurs@taytaylala12@unholyhuntress@thatonedogwithablog@seacactusplant@e-mmygrey@jane-dough @zara-aliza08 @sky-full-0f-fl0wers@deliriousfangirl61@katdahlali @deliriousfangirl61 @seatbacksandtraytables

@andaende @an-anxiousace-from-outerspace

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Shut Up and Drive (Chapter 5)

Roy Kent x F1 Driver!Reader

3.6k words

Warnings: Language, phone sex, masturbation (M and F), lots of pining, Jamie & Keeley being little shits, smutty smut, picture of MC

@agentstarkid !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Series Masterlist

“You get into a fight?”

Roy rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

Jamie took a sip of his pint. “Cut yourself shaving?”

“Shut up.”

The striker’s grin grew. “Drop your curling iron?”

“Shut up.”

Despite the fact that all he really wanted to do was go home and have an extra-long shower after watching a few choice F1 interviews, Roy allowed himself to be dragged out after the match for dinner at Ola’s. If he’d known he was going to spend the whole time being harassed by Jamie fucking Tartt, he would have told everyone to fuck off when they invited him.

He wanted to scream when Keeley plopped down on his other side.

“Did you see our special guest at the match today?” she practically sang, waggling her eyebrows. “Couldn’t keep her eyes off the dugout.”

“Was kind of busy coaching a fucking football game,” Roy grumbled, slouching, wishing he was like Jamie, who carried around concealer in his stupid little fanny packs. Then he could’ve covered up the gorgeous little mark you’d left on his jaw.

Keeley leaned close. “Well, she looked much less put together than usual,” she continued, as if Roy wasn’t shooting daggers at her. “She had her cute little Ferrari hat, but you could tell her hair was a mess. And her skin was pretty red and blotchy. And she kept squirm-”

“What the fuck are you implying?” he growled, as if he wasn’t the reason for that messy hair and red skin and- fuck- squirming.

“So, where’d you do it?” Jamie leaned forward. “Showers? Weight room? Boot room? Supply closet? Fuck, it was the changing room after all left, wasn’t it?”

Roy stood, chugging the last of his beer. “Right. Fuck both of you, I’m heading home, where no one makes stupid fucking accusations to make their own stupid lives more interesting.” He gave a little salute. “Cheers, pricks.”

He ignored their protests and pleas to stay as he stalked out of the restaurant, nodding to his players as they called out their goodbyes. As he got in his car, he glanced at his phone, gulping when he saw he had a message waiting for him.

You ruined my panties, Kent. Thanks xx

~

For a couple of days, Roy found himself glued to his phone. It wasn’t like the two of you were texting nonstop like fucking teenagers or some shit. Just sporadic messages, murmurings of what you were each up to, some selfies you sent him for the sole purpose of teasing him, and one swear-infested rant about how Jamie almost hit him with the ball during training.

It was only a few messages exchanged, but Roy was determined not to miss a single one.

On Wednesday night, you sent Roy a picture of you in a stunning red dress, complaining about some event you had to go to. It took a lot of restraint on both sides to keep from admitting how badly you both wished he was your date.

Roy stared at his phone, keenly aware of the quickly growing tightness in his pants. Fuck, how was he supposed to respond?

His clouded brain settled for a simple you look beautiful have fun before setting his phone on the coffee table, deciding he needed a drink before he let his horniness take over.

He settled himself on the couch with his beer and a book, but he kept wondering how your night was going. It was probably full of cameras and reporters and people exclaiming about how gorgeous you were, and there were probably multiple guys vying for your attention, guys not as stupid and annoying as his idiot Greyhounds. It was his nightmare scenario, an evening at a public event with plenty of annoying people, and yet part of him wished he was there with you.

Old man that he was, Roy fell asleep, woken up late into the night by his own snores. Wiping the drool from his face and doing his best to avoid dwelling on the steamy dream he’d been having, he turned out the lights and dragged himself to his room, phone in hand.

After stripping down to his boxers, he crawled into bed and let his fingers tap away on his screen until he had pulled up your Instagram. He found a particular video he’d watched several times, one featuring a beach and you wearing a lovely little bikini. His free hand was just dipping under his boxers when the pinging of his mobile startled him, causing him to drop his phone onto his face.

“Fuck,” he hissed, readjusting himself. Fucking Jamie must be drunk texting him again-

Nope. Definitely not Jamie.

Roy gawked at the screen for a moment, taking in the view. Fuck. Now he really wished he’d been with you this evening. Without quite knowing what he was doing, he hit the call button by your name and held the phone to his face, trying to keep his breathing steady as it rang once, twice-

“What took you so long?” Your purring voice had an edge of teasing that sent his heart into overdrive.

“You have a nice time at your thing?” He sat up, trying to keep his voice even; a particular challenge considering the image you’d now planted in his mind.

He could hear your bored little hum. “Not bad. You know how these things are.”

“Yeah,” was all he could manage.

Smiling at the nervous tone in Roy Kent’s voice, you slid off the chair you were perched on and crossed over to your bed, leaving your now forgotten glass of wine on your nightstand before laying down on your belly. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

Roy stared at the tent that was forming in his bed. “’course not,” he assured you. “I was up.” Shit.

You stifled a giggle at what you hoped was a double entendre. “What were you up to, then?”

Definitely not having a wank to you. “Nothing much,” he managed. “Just laying down.”

“In bed?”

Roy felt relieved to know your minds were both heading in the same direction. “In bed,” he confirmed, feeling his mouth tug upwards. “Your chair comfy?”

You chuckled. “Moved over to the bed myself, actually.” You paused, gazing at the ceiling. “How’s your jaw?”

He let his free hand trace over the beautiful little mark, which he’d admired in the mirror earlier in the evening. “It looks like I lost a fight with a fucking vacuum cleaner, thank you very much,” he joked.

“Anyone notice?”

“Only Keeley. And Jamie. And the whole team.” He rolled his eyes at the memory of all those eyes on his face, all those raised eyebrows and suspicious grins. “Lots of fun questions after the match.”

You rolled over onto your back. “Sorry about that,” you murmured, your tone anything but sorry.

His smile turned soft. “Kind of worth it,” he admitted. He cleared his throat. “Heard you looked a right mess, though,” he teased. “And something about you spending half the match watching the dugout.”

“Yeah, A.F.C. Richmond has this very fit manager.” You absently twirled a strand of hair around your finger. “Gets me all excited.”

Roy licked his lips. “You excited right now?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

Your free hand skimmed the exposed skin of your tummy; you wished it was Roy’s hand. “Maybe. What about you, Roy Kent? Does something have you excited?”

There was a half moment of hesitation at his end. “D’you want the honest fucking truth?”

“Sure.” His pause had you curious about he wanted to tell you.

“I…” He cleared his throat. “I was actually already… getting excited when you texted me.” He couldn’t believe he was admitting this. “Looking at, er, pictures of you.”

Well fuck. You were already feeling frisky- hence the text you’d sent him to start all of this- but fuck, you felt your panties dampen with your arousal. There was no doubt Roy could hear your breath hitch at his confession.

“Which pictures?” you asked breathily, squirming at the image you conjured of Roy, in bed, touching himself and looking at you.

An embarrassed grin crossed his face when he realized his admission had turned you on. “Some fucking Instagram post of you on the beach. You’re in a swimsuit… this fucking bikini and… yeah.” He ran his free hand over his face.

Roy Kent didn’t have phone sex. Sure, he’d received more than a few dirty pictures over the years. And he and Keeley had liked to text each other what they wanted to do once they got home. But lying in bed, all alone, spurred on by his own imagination and the sound of your voice?

He’d try anything once. For you, at least.

Your breathy giggle had him feeling slightly less embarrassed. “Yeah, I know that post,” you murmured. “You often go stalking through my Instagram?”

“Sometimes,” Roy admitted softly, biting his lip. “Like you said, good way to relax before a match.”

“It’s not before a match, Roy,” you pointed out, your face on fire at the thought of Roy getting off to photos and videos of you.

Roy’s low chuckle had your entire body pulsating. “You got me there,” he hummed. “Maybe I was… just thinking of you.”

The smile you wore felt far too giddy; you needed to get this conversation back on track. “And tell me,” you asked in your most sultry voice, “what did those bikini photos make you think of?”

He got the hint. “Made me think of when you visited us in Leeds,” he murmured, his free hand dipping below the sheets again. “You, on your knees. Just the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen in my fucking life.”

Your own hand traced a trail down to your already wet panties. “That was fun,” you sighed. “You were pretty fucking delicious.”

“Was I?” Roy palmed himself through his boxers; fuck he was hard.

“Uh huh,” was all you managed as you let a single finger trace your pussy lips through the damp material. “Just wish I could taste you now.” You held in a moan as you began to stroke yourself. “What do you wish I was doing right now?”

Roy’s chuckle was dark, sexy as all hell. “Well, I would love it if you could help me with this fucking boner you gave me.” He wrapped his hand around his clothed cock.

You grinned, mouth practically watering at the thought of Roy Kent’s hard dick. “What makes you think I’m not going to help you?” you purred. “Of course, you’re going to help me with my own little situation.”

His cock twitched in his hands. “And what situation would that be?”

Even though he couldn’t see it, you gave a little pout. “Well, I’m laying all alone in bed, and my panties are getting all wet. Any suggestions?”

“Fuck,” he huffed, stroking himself. “You should- shit- I dunno, touch yourself?”

Roy’s face was bright red. Not for the first time with you, he felt so fucking old. He didn’t know how to do this, or what he was supposed to say. His embarrassment was almost enough to kill his boner and make him hang up.

The soft groan that came through his phone brought him back. “Under or over my panties?” you whispered. You weren’t stupid; Roy Kent was not the kind of guy who had these kinds of late-night conversations. But the adorable earnestness and desire in his voice had you wanting to guide him through it. Mostly, though, your horniness had you refusing to hang up on that stunning man.

He had to admit he was grateful for the help. “Under,” he husked. “Go under.”

Eager to please, you did as you were told, dipping your hand under the soft material. You let out a sigh as your fingers grazed your wetness. “What about you? Are you touching yourself for me?”

Those last two words had him shuddering. “Over my boxers,” he admitted. “Should I, er, change that?”

“Yes, please.” You had to stop yourself from completely begging as you slid one finger through your slick. “Fuck, I wish it were me.”

“Me too,” Roy groaned as he slid his hand into his boxers and wrapped his hand around his hardness. “Fucking wish you were here, that gorgeous mouth of yours.”

You closed your eyes and brought your finger to your pulsing clit and began rubbing slow circles. “Fuck, Roy,” you breathed. “How hard are you right now?”

Roy sighed as he began stroking himself. “Really fucking hard. Just for you.” He licked his lips, thinking of you, laying in bed, touching yourself, writhing around, thinking of him. The image was better than any bikini photo. “Wish you were here to do something about it.”

“Oh, I’d do a lot about it if I was there.” You increased the pressure on your clit, hissing at the pleasure. “I’d be on my knees for you, Roy Kent. And I’d swallow everything you had to give me.”

“Actually,” Roy chuckled, his mind conjuring up some dirty pictures. “Would love to see those tits of yours all covered. Bet you’d look fucking great.”

Your soft moan told him you liked the sound of that. “Next time,” you breathed, moving away from your clit and to your needy cunt. “You can cover me all you want next time.”

His cock twitched at those two magical words: next time. “Where’re your fingers?” he asked, letting his thumb sweep over the precum that was leaking out of him. “Fuck, please tell me they’re inside that pretty pussy.”

Fuck. It was as if he knew. Of course Roy Kent knew. You answered him with a lewd moan as you slid a finger inside yourself. “Yeah,” you cooed. “It’s really fucking wet for you, Roy.”

“Fucking love when you say my name,” he rasped, increasing his pace. “Fuck, can you say it again?”

You were more than happy to oblige. “Roy,” you whined, adding a second finger to your wetness. “Fuck, Roy.” You let out a whimper as you pumped in and out. “I wish you were fucking me, Roy. Fucking me the way you did in the boot room that day, all fucking desperate and dirty.”

Roy’s eyebrows flew up. “You like it dirty then?” he teased, relishing the memory of you in the boot room, head thrown back as you tried to keep quiet, looking like a fucking goddess. “That’s really fucking good to know.”

“Why?” you shot back, grinning as you pictured his sexy smirk. “You going to give it to me dirty?”

“Oh, you have no idea.” Roy was starting to like this phone sex thing. He could get used to it. “Babe, I want you on this bed on all fours. Then I’ll show you desperate and dirty.”

You weren’t sure what had your pussy clenching around your fingers- the confidence in Roy’s voice, the image of you on your hands and knees for him, or the sweet pet name he growled out, not to mention the idea of being fucked in Roy Kent’s bed. Either way, you let out a little whimper as you began to squirm on your mattress.

That whimper had Roy moaning. “Fuck you sound beautiful,” he cooed. “You always sound so beautiful. Bet you’d sound beautiful in my shower.”

“You want me in your shower?” You couldn’t help smiling at the image- you, pressed up against a steamy glass door, Roy having to hold you up because you can’t feel your legs anymore, that perfect cock stretching and filling you.

The idea was almost enough to make you ignore the fact that Roy Kent had now mentioned having you over twice over the course of this phone call.

“I want you every-fucking-where.”

Your hips rocked against your hand as you listened to Roy’s ragged breathing, his soft moans. Your skin grew warm as you wondered if he could hear the wet sounds filling your quiet bedroom, sounds he usually helped you make in hotel rooms and, apparently, locked boot rooms. You wondered how it would sound if he was making those noises with you here, now, in your bedroom.

Fuck that sounded good.

“’m getting close,” Roy growled, his voice strained. “Wanna hear you come, gorgeous.”

Your pussy clenched at that word. Gorgeous. Hearing Roy call you that sent a shiver through your whole body; it seemed to be his favorite word to call you.

“Fucking want you,” you managed to whine as you pumped in and out of your soaked cunt, wishing that your fingers were Roy’s cock. “Fucking need you inside me, Roy.” Your release grew closer and closer as your back arched. “That fucking cock stretching me out.”

“Bet those fingers of yours aren’t as good as my cock,” Roy groaned, his grip tightening as he felt his own orgasm approach. “Love burying it inside you, fucking you the way you deserve. Like a fucking queen. My fucking Empress.”

Electricity flowed through your veins as you let out a silent moan.

Somehow, he knew.

“Let me hear you, gorgeous,” he begged, eyes screwed shut. “Let me hear those pretty fucking sounds.”

“Fuck, Roy,” you moaned, louder now as pleasure overwhelmed you. “Fucking coming for you. Coming for your cock,” you babbled, thrusting your fingers as deep as you could. “Wish you were here. Wish you were inside me.”

Listening to you come for him had Roy following you over the edge. “Fuck,” he hissed, feeling his cock jerk. “Love your pussy,” he stammered. “Fucking want to fill it up. Fill you til it’s leaking out of you, dirty fucking girl.”

Your moans turned high-pitched as you climaxed, your cunt so tight you wondered how the fuck you managed to fit Roy Kent’s thick cock inside. You nearly dropped your phone, but instead tightened your grip on it, not wanting Roy to miss a single moment of you coming just for him.

He moaned your name as he spilled over, not caring about how he’d have to change his sheets. Pump after pump, his release dripped onto his hand, a hand he desperately wished was your hand. Or mouth. Or cunt.

You collapsed on your bed with a groan, coming down from your high, listening as Roy’s breaths became just as soft and ragged as your own. With a sigh, you pulled your fingers out of your soaked pussy; you rubbed them together, wondering when you last got this wet on your own.

Then again, were you really on your own tonight?

“You… you come for me?” Roy’s voice was so soft, so gentle.

“Yeah,” you assured him, your eyes fluttering shut. “Just for you, Kent.”

His chuckle had your heart fluttering even more than your pussy just had. “Good, good, I’m glad.” He paused, unable to help the smile that grew on his face. “That was…”

You giggled and stretched your free hand over your head. “Yeah, it was.”

Roy was quiet for a moment, choosing to ignore the mess beneath his sheets. “I liked it,” he admitted. “A lot.”

“Good.” You gave a little wiggle, reveling in your post-orgasm bliss. “Could do it again sometime. If you want to, that is.”

“Oi, careful,” he warned playfully. “You might get me addicted to this shit. Almost as addicted as I am to you.”

Fuck. Did he really just say that?

You let out a nervous little giggle, pretending you weren’t obsessed with the words that slipped out before he could think about them. “Maybe I want you addicted.” You paused for a moment, wishing you were in his arms, and scolding yourself for it. “Hey, I should, er, probably clean myself up.”

“Yeah, yeah, me too.” Roy cleared his throat. “Can I call you back after?”

“I’d like that.”

Once you’d cleaned yourself up and thrown on a clean pair of panties and your Greyhounds sweatshirt- a choice you tried not to think too hard about- you turned off the lights and settled into bed properly. Just as you were wondering if Roy would actually call you back, your phone vibrated; you grinned when you saw Roy Kent appear on your screen.

“Hey.”

“Hi there,” he hummed, resting a hand behind his head as he stared up into the darkness. “How… how’re you feeling?”

His nervous tone had you snuggling lower into your bed. “Pretty darn good,” you assured him. “You?”

“Yeah, fucking good.” He smiled in spite of the shyness he suddenly felt. “You’re really somethin’, you know that?”

You turned onto your side, stretching your free hand over to the side of your bed that suddenly felt far too empty. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

His smile grew. “You’re just… kind of amazing.” He felt himself start to gush; fuck, he couldn’t help it. “I don’t fucking know. Don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you.”

Your body buzzed with delight, more from his affectionate rambling than your post-orgasm bliss. “Anyone like me?” you teased, urging him on.

“Oh, fuck off,” he laughed, shaking his head at your coyness. “You’re incredible. Fucking gorgeous. Badass as all hell. So fucking confident. Damn funny. And, well, you’re not bad in bed.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “Fucking dream come true.”

Oh hell. Roy’s words punched your heart with each syllable, making you forget about all your resolutions about not falling for the gruff, sexy manager. “You’re pretty wonderful yourself,” you heard yourself admit. “And I’m not just talking about the fact that you made me orgasm over the phone.”

You weren’t sure how much longer you stayed on the phone with Roy Kent, murmuring sweet nothings back and forth before moving on to general chitchat, the conversation flowing as naturally as it did when you were in his arms after sex. The last thing you remembered before you slipped into sleep was the sound of Roy Kent sleepily mumbling, “I really fucking miss you.”

Taglist:@hotdoglamp@daydreamgoddess14@klaine-92@gibby31@anonurs@taytaylala12@unholyhuntress@thatonedogwithablog@seacactusplant@e-mmygrey@jane-dough @zara-aliza08 @sky-full-0f-fl0wers

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Shut Up and Drive (Chapter 8)

Roy Kent x F1 Driver!Reader

3.5k words

Warnings: Language, unprotected sex, face sitting, fluff & feelings, Roy being a simp for his F1 Girlie ❤️

@agentstarkid ilysm, thanks for always reading my smut and telling me it's good 😝

Series Masterlist

From the moment he got back from Belgium, Roy had set to work getting his house ready. He’d painstakingly washed and cleaned everything, made sure he was stocked up on food and drinks, picked up some of the pretty-smelling shower stuff he remembered Keeley liking, even went and bought flowers for his dining room table. By the time he got your text letting him know your plane had landed, he felt that his home was ready to welcome you for the next few weeks.

He sat on his couch, staring at the turned off television, shitty knee bouncing anxiously. This was going to be great- right?

The two of you always had a good time when you were together. Lots of laughter and joking and flirting, not to mention sex. Even on the phone, Roy couldn’t help but smile at the sound of your voice. So spending all this time together was going to be great.

Unless you got bored of him. Or decided you didn’t like him as much as he liked you. Or you realized how much more appropriate it would be for you to date one of the young, handsome Greyhounds, rather than their grumpy old manager. Or-

I’m here!

The moment he saw your text, Roy was on his feet, practically running to the front door and throwing it open.

A perfect smile graced your face as you stepped out of your cab, offering Roy a little wave. “Hey there, Greyhound!”

Roy’s steps were quick as he walked down his sidewalk; you, on the other hand, broke into a sprint and launched yourself into his arms. He laughed into your hair and spun you around with ease, squeezing you tight. His heart felt light as he hugged you, breathing in your familiar smell and feeling your smile against his neck.

You gazed up at him with bright eyes once he set you down. “You gonna help me with my bags or what?”

With a chuckle, Roy walked with you to the cab, quickly grabbing your things and paying the driver, despite your insistence that you could pay for it yourself. With your suitcase in one hand and your duffel bag thrown over his shoulder, Roy took your hand and led you inside, wondering if you could hear the joyful hammering of his heart.

Fuck, you looked perfect inside his house, like you belonged there. He watched you look around curiously, taking in the photos and books and all the little things that made this house undeniably Roy’s. With a grin, you pointed at a framed drawing of two people on a football pitch, a dark-haired man and a blonde girl.

“Who’s the artist?” you asked in a light voice.

Roy wrapped his free arm around your waist. “My niece. Phoebe.”

“Cute,” you hummed, turning your gaze back to Roy. Your smile immediately softened. “So, this is Roy Kent’s house.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, smiling back at you. “And I’m really fucking glad you’re here.” He leaned down and kissed you deeply, his fingers digging into your waist. He pulled back with a content sigh. “Why don’t you go shower, and I’ll have dinner ready when you get out?”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Roy Kent’s going to cook for me?” you teased.

“Only the best for the Empress.”

Keeping his hand on your waist, Roy steered you to his bedroom, where he set down your things on top of his perfectly made bed- the bed you knew you’d be spending a lot of time in. He pointed you towards the bathroom, suddenly edgy.

“There’s, er, towels and shit. Whatever you need.” Roy cleared his throat, gazing down at you with that familiar mix of affection and nerves. He brought his hand to your chin. “I’m really fucking glad you’re here,” he whispered.

“Me too,” you assured him, leaning forward to kiss his lips, lips you’d missed more than you’d realized. Instinctively, you gripped his waist, tugging him close so you could feel his warm chest against yours. Maybe you were tired from the flight, but you swore your knees went weak when you felt his tongue flick against your lips.

Before you could react, he pulled back, grinning goofily. “Better let you shower,” he murmured as his hand stroked your hair. “I’ll go get dinner going.” With one more quick peck to your lips, he was gone.

Humming giddily to yourself, you grabbed your things and headed into Roy’s bathroom. In the shower, you noted the surprising amount of fruity products; huh. You knew some guys kept those kinds of products for female guests. Some little part of you wondered when these bottles were last used, and by whom.

Stop it, you scolded yourself as the hot water dripped down your skin. No, you and Roy weren’t exclusive, but… you knew how he felt about you. He knew how you felt about him. He’d invited you to spend your break with him, for fuck’s sake. Surely things were heading in the exclusive direction… right?

Willing yourself to ignore that gnawing feeling in your gut, you finished your shower, scrubbing away your jealous pondering and the grime of travel. Refreshed, you threw on a comfy t-shirt and some sleep shorts, not caring how your still-wet hair dampened your shoulders. A delicious smell, a familiar one, led you to the kitchen, where Roy was standing over the stove, tea towel thrown over his shoudler.

His heart skipped a beat when he looked over at you. You looked so at home in his house already, smiling softly at him as you padded into his kitchen. He leaned down and pecked your lips, marveling at how he’d get to see you like this for a month, and already dreading how quickly these next few weeks would go. As you peered around him to get a look at the dinner he’d made, he willed himself to just enjoy each and every moment he got to spend with you.

“What’re we having?” you hummed, wrapping your arms around Roy’s waist, a deliciously domestic gesture.

He clearly liked it, based on the way he smiled at you. “Found a great risotto recipe,” he explained, gesturing to the pan on the stove.

Your mouth was practically watering. “That smells amazing,” you gushed, giving him a squeeze. “Funny, risotto’s one of my favorite foods, actually.”

“I know.”

“You know?” Your eyes widened as you gazed up at Roy with raised eyebrows.

A blush covered his face as he shrugged, eyes on his cooking. “Saw it in some fucking interview you did one time,” he mumbled. “They were asking you about when you visit Italy, you talked about some of your favorite foods, you mentioned risotto. So, I figured…” He wrinkled his nose. “It’s not fucking weird, is it?”

You buried your silly grin in his bicep. “Not weird at all,” you assured him. “It’s actually really sweet.”

“Good.” A kiss landed on the top of your head. “D’me a favor, there’s a bottle of wine in the dining room.” He nodded to the door on the side of the kitchen. “Grab it for me?”

Relieved to have something to do besides swoon over Roy’s thoughtfulness, you quickly disappeared into the dining room, noting that the table was already set for two, complete with flowers in a vase; something told you that Roy Kent didn’t usually keep flowers on his table like that. Shaking your head with giddiness, you grabbed the bottle and brought it back to the kitchen.

Roy took the bottle from you, quickly opening it and pouring it into two waiting glasses. “To the table,” he instructed before smacking a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll bring the food.”

With a hum, you did as you were told, stopping yourself from skipping to the dining room with your drinks in hand. Roy joined you, carrying dishes and setting them down carefully. He watched you, face tense, as you tucked into your dinner. When you let out a content moan, his shoulders relaxed, and he began eating his own food.

“You like it?” he asked, his voice thick with nervousness.

You nodded as you swallowed another bite. “It’s perfect,” you assured him. You laid a hand on his. “Absolutely perfect.”

And you were right. Dinner was perfect. Roy was perfect, if you were being honest with yourself. He listened attentively as you told him all about your travels over the last couple of days, made sure your wine glass stayed full, laughed at your jokes, made a few of his own.  By the time he brought out the tiramisu he made- another food you’d mentioned in that interview- you were wondering how this month together could get any better.

But of course, Roy’s plans for the evening didn’t end with dinner.

The two of you lounged on his couch, just like the night you met, sipping wine and chattering quietly. Roy’s hand rested on your thigh, stroking your bare skin and watching you with a wistful smile, the kind that had your breath catching in your throat.

“What?” you asked, your voice quiet and breathy.

He shook his head and shrugged as he put his glass down. “Just… dinner was good? Dessert? The wine?” His brown eyes were earnest, begging you to say that you’d enjoyed everything.

“It was great,” you assured him, sitting up to bring your face to his. “Honestly, Roy. I don’t think anyone’s ever made me such a perfect meal.” You nudged his nose with yours. “Don’t think I’ve ever been this spoiled.”

Roy’s grip on your thigh tightened. “I like spoiling you,” he murmured, taking the wine glass out of your hand. “You deserve to be spoiled.”

The glint in his eye told you he was talking about more than just dinner.

Sure enough, he tilted your face to his, pressing a deep kiss to your lips. The hand on your thigh wandered up, dipping under the hem of your shorts, kneading your doughy flesh. A soft groan slipped past your lips and into his mouth as you brought your hands to his chest, grabbing greedily at the black t-shirt he wore.

As if he could feel your growing neediness, Roy stood, pulling you up with him. “Think you could let me spoil you a bit more?”

“If you insist,” you teased, letting him tug you along to the bedroom. He planted kisses on every inch of you he could reach as he stumbled backwards through the living room and down the hallway to his bedroom. You squealed as he pulled you onto the bed on top of him, wrapping his arms around you and slipping his hands under your shirt to roughly caress your back.

You spread your legs to straddle him, smiling against his mouth when you felt the bulge in his jeans rubbing against your already throbbing core. Always able to read your mind it seemed, Roy rolled you over onto your back and sat up, quickly taking care of his belt and shimmying out of his pants. Shooting you a wink, Roy pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside and revealing that gorgeous, furry chest of his. You reached up to run your hands over his stomach, biting your lip as your fingers brushed over his thick hair.

He leaned down over you, rolling his hips into yours, swallowing your soft moans in a heated kiss. “Fuck, I missed you,” he mumbled as he gripped your shirt. “Missed you so fucking much.”

“It’s only been a couple days, Kent,” you giggled as he peppered sloppy kisses down your jaw.

He shook his head, his beard scratching your sensitive skin. “Too fucking long,” he hummed as he toyed with the waistband of your sleep shorts. “You’ve got too many fucking clothes on.” Sucking gently on your neck, he tugged your shorts down, revealing the red lace panties you’d chosen carefully as you packed your bags the night before. The sound of Roy’s deep sigh as he teased the material had you confident that you’d made the right choice.

“Roy,” you breathed as he pulled your shirt up, revealing your bare breasts. His mouth immediately found one, his tongue swirling your nipple slowly, teasingly. You hardly recognized the mewling sound that came out of your mouth when he toyed with the hardening bud with his teeth; but, based on the way he bucked his hips, Roy definitely liked that sound.

After giving your breasts some attention, Roy rolled onto his back, pulling you with him. He raised his thick eyebrows as his hands roamed your thighs, fingers brushing against the lace of your panties.

“’ve got a request,” he growled, rolling his hips up against your core.

His hardness had you nodding desperately. “Anything,” you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut.

He grabbed your chin and pulled your face close to his, his eyes dark and shining with lust. “Want you to sit on my face,” he hissed before pressing a harsh kiss to your lips. “Need to fucking taste you, Empress.”

Immediately your thighs tightened around Roy. “Fuck,” you whined, heat rushing to every inch of your body.

“You like the sound of that?” he teased with a smug grin.

Not waiting for an answer, Roy roughly tugged at your panties, managing to get them down over your thighs. With firm hands, he practically dragged you up his body, not caring about the wet trail your already soaking pussy left on his thick chest hair, not stopping until you were hovering over his greedy mouth. His eyes focused on your core as he licked his lips.

“Is my empress ready to sit on her throne?” he growled, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

With that, he gripped your thighs, fingers digging into your skin, and pulled you against his mouth. Immediately, his moan vibrated through your body, prompting a high-pitched gasp from your mouth. His tongue slid through your slick slowly, taking his time exploring your folds. You grasped at the t-shirt you still wore, desperate to hang on to something.

Always attuned to your needs, Roy released your thighs and took your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. The gesture, so sweet and gentle, contrasted against the sinful sounds of Roy lapping up your arousal. He continued to moan and hum against your core, his beard scratching against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

“Shit, Roy,” you moaned, your throaty voice coming from somewhere deep inside you. “You’re- fuck.”

He dipped his tongue inside your cunt, fucking you slowly as you continued to writhe above him. His groans trembled through your body as he devoured you. When his nose nudged against your clit, you let out an almost animalistic sound.

Fucking hell, he thought as he tightened his hold on your hands. So fucking perfect.

You rocked your hips over his face, desperate to feel his tongue reach deeper, deeper inside you. “Roy,” you whimpered. “Gonna fucking come, Roy.”

“Cmmph,” was his muffled answer, a begging sound that was easy to translate.

With your eyes shut, you focused your whole attention on the feeling of Roy’s tongue expertly ravishing your pussy- on the sound and sensation of his deep groans- on the soaking, lewd noises that filled the room- on the bead of sweat running down your temple- on his thumb stroking the back of your hand lovingly-

“Roy,” you whined, your hips stuttering as he devoured your orgasm. Your vision went white as your pussy clenched around his tongue, soaking his face in your release. He gorged himself on your pleasure, wishing that your climax could last forever, that he could just spend the rest of his life making you come over and over.

As you came down from your high, you slowed your movements until you finally slumped over, heavy breaths escaping your lips. Tenderly, you lifted yourself off of Roy’s face, letting him help you onto your back. When he turned and hovered over you, your heart skipped a beat; his beard was positively soaked, your release dripping from his face.

“You taste so good,” he cooed, stroking your flushed face. “So fucking good for me.” He crashed his mouth into yours, smearing your wetness against your lips. He pulled at your shirt, only breaking the kiss so he could rip it over your head and toss it to the floor, immediately bringing his hand to your breast. “My beautiful empress.”

Your hands worked down his body, roaming over his chest, not halting until you reached his painfully tight boxers. Trembling with anticipation, you slid them down, revealing his already leaking cock. With a sigh into his mouth, you began stroking him leisurely, deliberately. For once, there was no rush. No flights to catch, no texts from teammates, no goodbyes the next morning. Instead, tonight the two of you could explore, and touch, and enjoy each other.

He groaned into the kiss and bucked into your hand. “Tell me what you want,” he whined against your lips. “Anything you want.”

“Fuck me, Roy,” you breathed, giving his cock a gentle squeeze. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

Roy was more than happy to oblige. He moved your hand away from his cock and gave your knuckles a soft kiss before lining himself up at your entrance. Keeping his eyes on yours, he inched into you, slowly, slower than he’d ever entered you before. His heart melted when he saw the way your eyes fluttered with each little thrust, the way the corner of your mouth twitched upwards as he gently filled you.

You’d had a quickie in the boot room with Roy Kent. You’d taught him how to have phone sex. You’d been dominated and used by him in Belgium. Sex with Roy was good, always good, no matter how you did it.

But tonight, you let Roy Kent make love to you.

He took your hands in his again, holding them over your head as he pressed his forehead to yours. His mouth hovered above yours, so close you could feel his hot breath on your lips as he gently rocked into you. Your walls clenched around him, throbbing and begging him to fuck you harder, deeper.

“You,” he huffed, kissing your face sloppily, “are so fucking beautiful.” With a soft grunt, he gave a harsher drive, hitting that perfect spot. “How’d I get so fucking lucky?”

All you could you was whimper his name and chase his mouth, trying to capture it in a kiss. Instead, he smiled, eyes trained on your face. He gave another severe thrust, eyes lighting up when he heard the quiet sob you let out. He continued his pace, slow, intentional grinds into you, cherishing every whine and moan and whimper that you gave him. His cock throbbed inside you, desperate to give you everything he had, desperate to once again make you his.

Roy squeezed your hands tight as his hips stuttered, letting you know he was close. “So glad you’re here,” he cooed. “So… so fucking happy.”

Your heart fluttered even more than your walls as you squirmed beneath him. “Me too,” you breathed. “So, so happy, Roy.” Your voice trembled with a mixture of emotion and pleasure.

“Think you got one more for me?” he grunted, giving a particularly rough thrust. “Think that gorgeous pussy can come for me?”

All you could do was moan and whimper as he rolled his hips harshly, determined to have you climax again. Between his cock filling you deliciously, his mouth sucking at your neck, and the pure joy of being in Roy Kent’s bed, it wasn’t long before you were clenching tightly around him and practically screaming his name; some little voice in your head was grateful to be in a house rather than a hotel room, where you would probably have irritated the people in the room next door. However, that little voice was drowned out by Roy’s panting, punctuated by a chorus of your name and fuck, chanted over and over.

With a strangled “Fucking hell”, Roy tensed, flooding you with his orgasm. His mouth was on yours, tongues crashing, moans intertwining as his cock emptied inside you. You gripped his hands tightly enough that you knew your nails would leave little crescent marks on the backs of his hands; the thought had your aching cunt clenching, greedily accepting every drop Roy pumped into you.

The room was filled with ragged breaths as you both came down from your highs, sweaty bodies sticking to each other- not that either of you wanted to move. Roy kissed your jaw, a soft, tender kiss, and slowly pulled out of you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, rolling onto his back, keeping hold of one of your hands. “And I get a whole month of that?”

You giggled and squeezed his hand, reveling in the soreness between your legs. “A whole month, Kent,” you confirmed. “Think you can handle it?”

He brought your hand to his mouth and kissed it gently. “Think you might give me a fucking heart attack,” he joked. “But at least I’ll die with a fucking smile on my face.”

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Shut Up and Drive Taglist!

Drop a comment or reblog this post if you want to be tagged in future chapters of Shut Up and Drive!

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Hahaha remember when I said that Shut Up and Drive would be like 2, MAYBE 3 parts? Lol what a lie 🫠

@agentstarkid and I are creating a whole universe, kiddos

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Preview for Shut Up and Drive ch 5 👀🍷

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Sneak peek of Shut Up and Drive part 3 because writing is more fun than lesson planning 🫠

Without you having to ask, Roy got off of the elevator with you and followed you down the hall to your door; he leaned against the wall and shot you a suggestive look, a man clearly on a very horny mission.

“Don’t suppose you have another bottle of ridiculously expensive scotch in there?” His light tone did nothing to disguise his wicked intentions.

You held the keycard between your fingers, offering a coy shrug as you licked your lips. “I’m not sure. Maybe you could come in and help me look?”

The door had barely clicked shut behind you when Roy had your back pressed against it, his fingers digging into the exposed skin between your jeans and Richmond sweater. His eyes wandered boldly over your figure, letting out a soft groan that had you rubbing your thighs together.

“That sweater looks real fucking good on you,” he muttered, tugging at its hem. “But I bet it looks better on the floor.”

You grinned as you took off your Ferrari cap and tossed it onto a nearby dresser. “That’s so fucking cheesy,” you teased, acting like his words didn’t turn you on. “That the best you got?”

He started pulling at your sweatshirt. “Oh, you want the best I got?”

“Roy Kent, I want everything you’ve got.”