#headphones with mic for laptop | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vivwritesfics · 6 months

Text

On Stream - LN4

While Lando streams, his girlfriend tries to study. Except she couldn't study, not when her boyfriend was so damn distracting (and he was really trying his best to be distracting)

Based the stream that has us all floored (boy why you whining and moaning?) but i refuse to mention the streamers name because he scares me

1.2K

Lando's girlfriend didn't mind it when he streamed. He'd sit in his room, door open so he could turn and see Y/N sat on the couch any time he wanted.

This time, as he streamed, Y/N sat on the couch doing her university work. She hated to admit it, but she'd left it to the last minute, with it due in the next day. So, stressed, she sat on the couch, typing away at her computer.

As Lando got ready to stream, he turned towards the door, waving her over. The stream had only just started, with not that many people watching.

"Lan," she said, leaning against the door frame. "How's the stream going? What're you playing?" She asked.

The stream could see her, could see what he was wearing. There were some that fawned over it, that thought she was adorable wearing an LN4 hoodie, and there were some that were insanely jealous.

But Lando wasn't looking at the chat, he couldn't see the comments being made.

He held his arms out and Y/N walked into them, pulling his head into her chest. "I think we're about to play Fortnite," he said as the people he was waiting for joined the stream.

Y/N pulled a face, which generated an insane amount of comments. "If you're playing fortnite I'm not staying in here," she said and pulled away from him.

Lando pouted, but the chat couldn't see it. All they could see was his head tipped to the side, hair held in place by his headphones.

"Right, I love you but I've got work to do," she said and kissed the top of her head.

But Lando didn't let go of her. He blinked up at her, lips pursed as he waited for her to kiss him. Rolling her eyes, she leaned down to kiss him and walked out of the room, returning to her laptop.

As the stream got going, Y/N tried to get on with her university work. It wasn't easy, especially when Lando started doing that shrieking laugh that he did. It wasn't annoying, one of Y/N's favourite sounds, actually.

But not when she was trying her best to do work.

"Lan," Y/N began as she walked towards the room. "Do you mind if I shut the door.

"Is that Y/N?" Max Fewtrell shouted as they kept playing.

"Baby, come here!" Lando shouted as he kept playing, his avatar running after Max's.

Y/N looked at her boyfriend. She took a moment before she began shutting the door. "No, Y/N, keep it open!" He insisted and Y/N pushed the door back open again.

She went back to her work, but it was near impossible to concentrate. Especially when Lando began moaning into his mic. "What the fuck," Y/N whispered as she looked to her boyfriend.

He was leaning close to the microphone as he let out a series of moans and whines. It was incredibly fucking distracting, especially when he began giggling.

So, Y/N went to go and get a snack to "help her study". She grabbed a bowl from the cupboard, poured some sugar into it and grabbed some grapes from the freezer.

It was delicious, a delicacy. As Y/N bit into these frozen grapes and rolled them around in the sugar, she walked back toward where Lando was streaming.

She watched for a minute, watched as he killed Max. And then she strode into the room, holding the bowl out towards Lando. "Lan," she said and he turned towards her. "Snack?"

Lando scrunched his face up as he looked into the bowl. "Is that grapes and sugar?"

"Frozen grapes and sugar."

He still wore that scrunched up expression as he turned back to his stream. "You little weirdo," he said as she bit into a frozen grape. Lando heard the crunch and pretended to gag. "That's grim, grapes shouldn't make that noise."

Sticking her tongue out, Y/N out of the room, returning to her work. But then Lando started moaning again.

She couldn't work. Not in these conditions. Y/N saved her work and shut her laptop. She could finish it tomorrow, just a few hours before the the deadline, but she couldn't work like this.

"You're lucky you're cute," Y/N mumbled as she leaned against the door. Lando turned, his character dying as he did so. He gave Y/N a grin, the kind of grin where he had his eyes closed, and turned back to the stream.

And then he heard the shower in the room next door turn on. There was music, too, Y/N's playlist going as she showered. Although Lando couldn't hear her singing along, he knew it was happening. He started singing along, quietly into the mic as she and Max continued to game.

The chat began blowing up, asking what the song is. When Lando saw it he leaned back in his chair, looking up as the ceiling as he tried to work out what the song was. "Uh, oh! It's The Police song!" And then Lando began humming the tune to 'Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic'.

As Y/N showered, Lando sang along to every song. When she stepped out of the shower, got changed into her pyjamas and made her way to where Lando was, he was still singing along to the song that had been playing as she stepped out of the shower, another 80's song.

"Can I sit in here while you stream?" She asked.

A very eager 'Yes!' left Lando's lips and Y/N sat herself in the beanbag he kept hidden behind his chair.

She leaned her head against the wall and watched Lando stream. He was loud, having fun, laughing so hard he was almost crying, but Y/N still found herself falling asleep. Doing uni work all day was surprisingly exhausting and, in no time at all, she was snoring.

Lando didn't notice at first. How could he, when he had his back towards her? It was only when his chat started blowing up, informing him of what was behind him, that Lando noticed.

He took the headset off his head and turned around. The chat had been telling him to shut up and to move her, but Lando knew her better than that. If he tried to move her somewhere quieter, or if he himself was to shut up, she'd wake up, complaining that he's not being loud enough for her to sleep.

Have you ever had somebody love you so much that they fall asleep to the sound of your voice? Even when you're shrieking?

That was how much Y/N loved Lando. She slept through him doing that moaning and whining again, and even when he said the most unhinged things. The chat saw her stir slightly when he said 'come to daddy' and you just know that was overanalysed.

After a good few hours Lando finished the stream. He turned around, scooped Y/N up from the beanbag and took her to bed, kissing the side of her head as he carried her to the bedroom.

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader smut #lando norris x you #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader

4K notes · View notes

pucksandpower · 1 month

Text

Newsflash

Charles Leclerc x reporter!Reader

Summary: after two years as a paddock correspondent, you’re convinced that Charles Leclerc hates your guts for no apparent reason … but maybe everything is not what it seems

“Wake up, Y/N. It’s race day!”

Your colleague, Natalie, bursts into your hotel room without knocking, as usual. You groan and pull the covers over your head, not ready to face the chaos that is sure to ensue in the paddock.

“Come on, sleepyhead! We have to be at the track by seven this morning for pre-race meetings,” Natalie says, yanking the duvet off you.

“Alright, alright, I’m up!” You grumble, slowly swinging your legs over the side of the bed. “What time is it anyway?”

“5:30. Which reminds me, I need coffee,” Natalie says, already headed for the door. “Meet me in the lobby in 20!”

You spend the next 19 minutes hastily getting ready — putting on minimal makeup, throwing on your favorite jumpsuit, and frantically gathering up notes and gear for the day. You take one last glance in the mirror, trying to smooth down your bedhead, before resigning to just throw a cap on over the mess.

Hustling down to the lobby, there’s a rush of personnel all around — mechanics, engineers, PR reps, and media darting about with coffees and laptops and headsets already in place. You spot Natalie nursing a large black coffee and beeline over.

“Ready to do this?” She asks with a grin.

“As I’ll ever be,” you reply with a shrug. The truth is, the nerves are already bubbling up in your stomach. You love your job as an F1 reporter for Sky Sports, but the pressure and scrutiny is immense.

The two of you pile into a car with the rest of the broadcast crew and head to the track. On the ride, you glance over your meticulous notes on the teams and drivers one more time, paying special attention to Ferrari.

Ever since you started covering F1 two years ago, one driver has basically refused to give you the time of day — Charles Leclerc.

For some reason, whenever you are around, he bolts in the opposite direction. When you have attempted interviews, he literally turns and speedwalks away without a word. Other drivers will chat with you, joke around, and give thoughtful answers to questions.

But Charles? Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

You can’t figure out why he hates you so much. You’ve scoured your past comments and coverage looking for anything that could have offended him, but come up empty.

Is it something personal against you? Were you mean to him in a past life or something? It hurts, to be honest. You try to stay professional, but his obvious disdain for you still stings.

Sighing, you put your notes away as the car pulls into the paddock. It’s going to be a long day.

After hair, makeup, mic checks, and a final meeting, it’s nearly time for the broadcast to go live as cars start lining up on the grid. Nerves buzzing, you watch Charles warm up with his performance coach across the pit lane, headphones in and clearly in the zone. As always, he walks right past you without a flicker of acknowledgment.

Your heart twinges, but you swiftly push the hurt aside. It’s showtime.

The next few hours are a blur of rushed interviews, sound bites, stats flashing across screens, and organized chaos. After the race finally ends, there are more interviews, podium ceremonies, and press conferences to wade through before you can take a breath.

“Man, that was brutal!” Natalie huffs as the two of you finally plop down in chairs in the media room later that afternoon. She cracks open a Red Bull and takes a long drink. “You hanging in there?”

“Yeah, I’m alright,” you reply half-heartedly. The truth is, you’re drained — physically and mentally. And of course, the interaction with Charles, or lack thereof, is weighing heavy.

“Why do you let that pompous twerp get under your skin so much?” Natalie says with a frown, seeming to read your mind. “He’s a rude, stuck up jerk who isn’t worth the energy. Forget about him.”

You shake your head with a sigh. “You’re right, you’re right. I just … I don’t know, I never did anything to the guy, and it still stings.”

Just then, the door to the media room swings open, and Charles himself strides in. You inadvertently tense up as he approaches the couch, looking calm and confident in his usual Ferrari polo, and folds himself down between Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton, who rounded out the rest of the podium.

Here we go again, you think with an internal eye roll. Just gotta get this over with.

“Hello,” Charles says with an easy grin as he settles into his seat, “What have you got for us today?” Various reporters immediately start firing off questions, undoubtedly looking to get a headline from the race winner.

You gather your courage, take a breath, and call out “Charles, Y/N with Sky Sports here. Can you walk me through your thought process behind that daring pass on Lando in Turn 12?”

To your shock, the second Charles hears your voice, his whole demeanor shifts. He seems to freeze, shoulders hunching slightly, grin dropping from his face as his cheeks instantly flush deep red. He looks panicked almost, eyes darting around the room, before landing briefly on you.

“Uhh … b-bathroom. Need to go. Bye.”

And with that, he leaps up from the couch and practically sprints out of the room.

A stunned silence falls over the space as everyone stares, stunned, at the empty space he left. You feel your stomach drop through the floor, tears of embarrassment and humiliation prickling at your eyes.

What did you do wrong? Now he’s made a total spectacle, running away from you in front of your peers. Mortified, you shakily stand up, chair clanging backwards, and rush from the room as well. Needing air, you bolt outside until you find a secluded spot out back of the paddock, leaning against a wall as the tears flow freely.

“Hey, hey … what’s going on? Are you okay?”

The soft, concerned male voice startles you, and you gasp looking up. There stands Charles, looking alarmed and guilty.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to freak out like that. Please don’t cry!” He moves closer, though still keeps his distance.

You blink rapidly, beyond confused. “What … what are you doing out here? I’m clearly the last person you want to be around.”

He sighs heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is really hard for me to admit but … I like you. As in, I have the biggest crush on you. That’s why I get so flustered and basically black out anytime you talk to me. It’s pathetic, I know.”

Your jaw actually drops open in disbelief. “You … what? You like me? Is this a joke?”

“No! No, I swear, it’s the truth,” he says, face turning red again. “I know I come across like a total jerk, I just freeze up around you because honestly? You’re just so stunning and brilliant, and I get unbelievably shy and nervous. The words won’t come out. It’s like an out of body experience! I chicken out and run away like an idiot every time.”

You stare at him, trying to process this. All this time, all the hurt and embarrassment … it was just because he developed a crush?

“I’m so sorry for how I’ve treated you. I know it must seem like I despise you. The truth is, you make me feel like a stuttering teenager with my first crush again,” Charles continues, looking at you beseechingly. “I understand if you think I’m a total tool, and I have a lot of work to do to make this up to you. But I swear, I really do like you, Y/N.”

At this, his face splits into a sheepish grin, eyes twinkling with mirth. You feel a laugh bubble up in your chest as relief washes over you.

He doesn’t hate you. In fact, it’s quite the opposite! You appraise him, really looking at him for the first time. From his twinkling green eyes to his adorable dimples to the lock of chestnut hair falling across his forehead, he’s unbelievably charming.

You shake your head, smile growing. “So this whole time, you’ve just been acting like an awkward schoolboy instead of giving me any indication of your true feelings?”

Charles laughs self-consciously. “Embarrassing, I know. Look, I promise I’ll do better-”

“Yeah, you’ve got a lot to make up for,” you say, crossing your arms and giving Charles a playful but pointed look. “All the grief and heartache you’ve put me through the last two years? This calls for serious groveling, mister.”

Charles immediately drops to one knee dramatically. “Y/N Y/L/N, light of my life, apple of my eye. I am but a humble driver, unworthy of your affection. But if you would do me the extraordinary honor of allowing me to court you properly, I vow to spend every day showing you how enchanted I am by your wit, your beauty, and your strength.”

You can’t help but giggle at his over-the-top chivalrous display. “Oh get up, you goofball!” You grab his hand and pull him back to his feet. “I’m just teasing. Well, partially teasing. I do expect you to apologize to me properly. Take me to dinner or something.”

Charles visibly brightens. “Dinner? Really? Yes, absolutely! In fact, let me take you right now. We’ll go to that little trattoria down the road. You deserve to be wined and dined for putting up with me.”

You consider this for a moment, taking in his eager, handsome face. The truth is, despite his past behavior, you find yourself captivated by Charles now that you understand what was really going on. His confidence, talent, and intensity are wildly attractive. And the way he’s looking at you now, with softness and admiration in his eyes .... it sends tingles down your spine.

“Alright, lead the way, hot shot,” you say with a wink.

Charles’ grin stretches even wider, if possible. “After you,” he gestures forward with a flourish, then falls into step beside you as you head towards the exit.

“I really am sorry for being such an idiot around you,” Charles says quietly after a moment of walking in comfortable silence. “The way I’ve acted was totally unacceptable. You deserve so much better.”

You glance over at his earnest expression and feel a little pang in your chest. “It’s okay, really. I get it now. Just think how close we could have been this whole time though if you’d just … I don’t know, talked to me like a normal human being!”

Charles chuckles ruefully. “Oof, so true. Honestly, I’m impressed you didn’t write me off ages ago as a complete lost cause. Clearly you’re far more patient and forgiving than I deserve.”

“Yes, I really am,” you agree teasingly, giving his arm a playful shove. You both laugh as you reach the paddock exit and emerge out onto the bustling street, taking in the energy of the crowd.

You jokingly elbow Charles’ side. “Still though, as dashingly handsome as you may be, don’t think you’re completely off the hook! I expect to be wooed and romanced properly going forward. No more running off scared like you’ve seen a ghost!”

“It’s a deal,” Charles says easily, looking thrilled. “Romance and wooing, coming right up.”

Reaching the charming little restaurant, Charles opens the door for you with a sweeping bow. You grin and step inside. Somehow, you have the feeling this is going to be the start of a wonderful evening.

No more misunderstandings. Just the two of you, getting to know each other properly over a delicious meal with the slight chill of the evening settling in around you.

And you can’t wait.

***

The next few race weekends are a whirlwind as Charles seems to do a complete 180 in his behavior towards you.

Gone is the shy, nervous wreck who could barely look you in the eye. Instead, he goes full-steam in the opposite direction, seeking you out constantly and showering you with attention.

It starts the following week after Friday practice. You’re standing in the paddock scribbling notes when you sense someone approaching. Looking up, you see Charles striding over, helmet in hand, usual calm confidence exuding from him.

“Ah, Y/N, just the reporter I was looking for,” he says with a warm grin, sidling up beside you. “Walk with me?”

Flustered by his forwardness but flattered, you quickly nod. “Uh, sure!”

Charles immediately links his arm casually through yours and starts leading you away down the paddock, journalists and crew members glancing over with raised eyebrows. You catch Natalie’s eye and she mouths “WTF?” at you with a stunned look. You just give a tiny shrug, feeling your face heat up.

“So tell me, what did you think of my lap times today?” Charles asks once you’re a few paces away from the crowd.

You blink, surprised he’s looking for actual feedback. You decide to give an honest assessment. “Well, I think you were sliding the rear end quite a bit too much through Sector 2 and losing time. The car didn’t look fully settled-”

“Brilliant analysis as always, Y/N. I knew I could count on you to give it to me straight,” Charles interrupts with a respectful nod. You feel yourself preen slightly at his praise. “Some changes to differential settings should sort that out, I think.”

He then launches into a surprisingly technical explanation of his plans to adjust the setup. You find yourself nodding along, captivated, as he outlines the various weight transfer issues and how he aims to mitigate them.

He’s speaking to you like a true engineer, not just a reporter. You realize with a jolt that he’s never gone into this level of detail with you before in any interviews.

“Sorry, I’m rambling a bit here, aren’t I?” Charles says sheepishly when he pauses. “I don’t want to bore you with too much technical detail. But you just have such a good eye and ask such insightful questions, I find myself wanting to really dive into this side of racing with you.”

He gives your arm a soft squeeze. “Anyway, let me know if you have any other observations or advice. I trust your analysis completely.”

Before you can properly respond, the two of you round a corner only to nearly walk directly into Sergio Perez, who’s heading the opposite direction. He does a comical double take at seeing the two of you arm-in-arm together.

“Ah, hello Checo!” Charles says breezily, not releasing you or missing a beat. Sergio looks hilariously confused.

“Uh … hello?” is all he manages before Charles is steering you onwards.

“See you around, mate,” he tosses over his shoulder with a wink.

You glance back to see Sergio frozen in place, staring after you both looking utterly bewildered.

The weekend continues in this vein, with Charles constantly pulling you aside to chat at length about setups, strategies, even asking your opinion on development directions for next year’s car.

He treats you with the utmost seriousness and respect, like you’re one of his most trusted advisors. It’s shocking and flattering after the cold-shoulder treatment for so long.

Whenever the broadcast crew has a break, Charles inevitably finds you and whisks you off to look at telemetry data together (which sends a poor PR officer chasing after the two of you with an NDA after the first time Charles decides to pull you into the garage) or watch video, going into painstaking detail to get your thoughts.

By Sunday, it’s become a bit of a running joke among the team, with people exchanging amused glances whenever Charles appears to disappear with you once again.

“There goes Loverboy Sharl, dragging poor Y/N off yet again to pore over spreadsheets and onboard footage,” Natalie jokes with an eye roll during a break, making the crew laugh. “How does that man ever find time to, you know, actually race?”

You shoot her a heatless glare, though you have to admit — as sweet as it is having Charles’ undivided attention, as a reporter the over-accessibility is becoming a touch much.

When the race concludes later that afternoon, Charles immediately finds you amid the chaos of the media scrum.

“Y/N!” He beams down at you, still sweaty and in his racing suit with the top half unzipped. “Come take a look at the race data with me? I want to walk through my lap times and tire deg, see if we can spot any areas to improve ...”

“Actually, I’m sort of totally swamped right now,” you gesture at the sea of people around you. “But maybe later?”

His face falls slightly. “Oh. Well I suppose I did already monopolize a lot of your time this weekend. No rest for the media?”

He gives you a lopsided smile but there’s a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. You feel a little stab of guilt.

“Tell you what though,” he continues, brightening again. “Come find me later before we fly out. I’ll have a surprise waiting for you.”

“A surprise?” You ask with a raised brow. “What does that mean?”

“Ah ah ah, no hints!” Charles laughs, wagging a finger. “Just trust me. Don’t leave without seeing me first, okay?”

With that, he leans in and unexpectedly gives you a swift peck on the cheek. You freeze, eyes going wide, feeling your face flame. Pulling back, Charles winks cheekily at you before turning and sauntering off.

Dazed, you lift a hand to touch the spot he kissed, feeling the heat radiating from your cheek. Did he really just … right out in the open like that … with the cameras recording live?

Glancing around, you see Natalie and a few other crew members staring with mouths agape. Toto Wolff is even giving you an amused look as he walks past, one eyebrow arched knowingly. Utterly mortified, you duck your head down and hurry off to find a quiet corner to collect yourself.

The next race sees the flirting and PDA ramp up even higher. Charles can’t seem to resist finding any excuse to drape an arm around your waist, stroke your arm, or playfully tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Every interaction has an undercurrent of flirtation and innuendo. And the cheek kisses become almost routine, pressed on you in front of other drivers, team bosses, cameramen, you name it.

“I can’t take you anywhere, can I?” You finally say in flustered exasperation after he ambushes you with a very public, lingering kiss on the cheek in the paddock one day. You struggle to sound annoyed, but a pleased grin tugs at the corners of your mouth as you say it.

“Sorry, ma chérie, I just can’t seem to resist around you,” Charles replies, absolutely zero shame in his voice or demeanor. “You’re lucky I have more self-control than to start making out right here in front of everyone!”

You gasp and slap his arm, scandalized, as he just throws his head back and laughs heartily.

Meanwhile, the double-takes and stunned looks from everyone around just keep coming. Even the normally straight-faced Fred Vasseur can’t seem to hold back smug grins whenever he sees the two of you getting cozy.

“Go on and get a room already, you two!” He finally chuckles one day as Charles passes by in the paddock with his usual arm draped around your waist.

“Don’t tempt me!” Charles quips back without missing a beat, giving you a roguish wink.

Soon, literally everyone in the paddock and broadcast team is aware of and commenting on the developing romance between you and Charles.

He makes no attempt to hide it whatsoever.

“Honestly, I think they’re the most nauseatingly adorable couple I’ve ever seen,” Jenson Button jokes to the rest of the broadcast team one evening as they all watch Charles throw his arm around you yet again and plant a smacking kiss on your temple.

“The honeymoon phase never ends with those two,” Natalie agrees in a wry tone, rolling her eyes. “It’s like they’re a pair of horny teenagers making out behind the bleachers.”

You just shake your head with a bashful smile and accept the good-natured ribbing. The truth is, despite Charles’ very public displays of affection causing some embarrassment and teasing from your colleagues, you find it hard to truly mind.

There’s an earnestness and joy in his demeanor whenever he’s with you that makes your heart swell. You’ve never seen him so openly happy and carefree as these past few weeks. Gone is the tightly wound, intense competitor. In his place is a warm, playful soul who can’t help but let his delight in your company shine through.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find his romantic attentions flattering and thrilling. The way his gaze smolders when his eyes meet yours, the tingle of electricity you feel whenever his hand brushes yours, the butterflies that erupt in your stomach when his lips graze your cheek — it all makes you deliriously giddy, like a lovesick teenager yourself.

So you endure the good-natured eye rolls from Natalie and jokes from the broadcast crew with an easy smile. Because the truth is, you’ve realized how deeply you’ve fallen for Charles in return.

“You’ve got me utterly love drunk, you charming fool,” you murmur against his chest one evening.

The two of you are tucked away in a quiet corner, Charles’ back against the wall with his arms wrapped around you as you stand embraced, soaking in a few stolen moments of intimacy together.

“The feeling is mutual,” Charles replies easily, resting his chin on your head. “I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from this madness.” He pauses, absentmindedly stroking your back. “Honestly, I half expected you to get sick of me hanging around all the time by now.”

You pull back to meet his warm green eyes. “Are you kidding? I love having you around. I still have to pinch myself that you actually want to be with me after the way you treated me for so long!”

A flicker of regret passes across Charles’ features. “I truly am sorry for being such an ass before, Y/N. I hope with time you can forgive me.”

“Already forgiven,” you assure him softly. “We’re here now. That’s what matters.”

Relief blossoms on his face and he leans in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “Thank you, ma belle. For being the most patient and kind woman on earth.”

You grin, eyes fluttering closed as his breath tickles your skin. “Mmm, I wouldn’t go that far. But I guess I do possess some super-human tolerance for broody and aloof superstar drivers with commitment issues.”

Charles chuckles at that and you can feel the rumble of it against your body. “Lucky for me then, or I would still be utterly lost.”

His mouth finds yours then, soft and intoxicating. You melt into the kiss, savoring his warmth, his scent, the gentle stroke of his fingertips along your jaw. All semblance of poise escapes you when you’re pressed against Charles like this. He never fails to make your head spin and body thrum with want.

A polite cough from nearby causes you to break apart abruptly. You blink, dazed, to see Natalie standing with an eyebrow arched sky high.

“Hey lovebirds,” she says in a wry tone. “Sorry to disturb the sunset groping, but they’re calling for final broadcast checks in 10.”

Face flaming, you duck your head and extract yourself from Charles’ embrace. He just shoots Natalie a cheeky grin, entirely unabashed.

“Better get going then,” Charles says cheerfully, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “Wouldn’t want you to be late because of me … again.” He winks.

Natalie rolls her eyes hard. “Oh I’m sure that would be a first. See you in 10, Y/N.”

With that, she turns on her heel and heads back towards the pits. You glance up at Charles shyly.

“I should … uh ...” You gesture vaguely.

“Yes, yes of course,” Charles says, squeezing your hands affectionately. “Work calls. Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting around the next corner to steal more kisses as soon as you’re free.”

You laugh and give him a playful shove. “Go on then, you impossible man! I’ll see you in a bit.”

Heart fluttering, you watch him saunter off before heading for the pits yourself, still feeling delightfully dazed.

This is really your life now. Surrounded by racing, the thrill of competition, the roar of engines … and consumed by budding love every time Charles Leclerc is near.

As far as dream jobs go, you think with a lovestruck smile, you’ve really hit the jackpot.

2K notes · View notes

irisintheafterglow · 3 months

Text

do you guys ever think about streamer!sakusa because i do

cw: swearing

sakusasbigtits👑👑: wait wtf are they in the room ??? hinatashoyolover: ASHDSFKAJSDFHG ellawantsaran👑: PARTNER REVEAL violetvolley2012: mOVE YOUR FUCKNIG WEBCAM oikawamilkbox7: SHWO PARTNER SHOW FPARTNER miya_osamu: what the fuck is going on

"what the hell is a miya doing in my chat? i could've sworn you guys just finished a charity stream," he dodges, leaning back in his chair as chaotic messages urging him to show his partner flew by. "look, i don't know what you guys are talking about. there's no one in the room but me." cross-legged on his bed and wearing his jersey, you stifle a laugh into your fist just out of sight. his eyes flicker over to you for a moment and soften before he goes back to manipulating his chat.

miyarearrangemyinsides👑: YOU FUCKING LIAR sakusasbigtits👑👑: WHY ARE YOU GASLIGHTING US

"i'm serious." more messages of indignancy light up his screen. "i don't think you guys even know what gaslighting means." a smirk spreads across his face as chat explodes, taking the bait and continuing to argue with their favorite man through a screen. "thank you kuroobella7 for the five gifted-"

stop being a big baby and show us your partner, deadpans the automatic voice reading out his donations. you can't help it, that time, and the laugh that slips out is definitely picked up by kiyoomi's mic.

sakusasbigtits👑👑: WHO WAS THAT oikawamilkbox7: WE HEARD THAT OMI tinygianttwo: hi sakusa!!

"hey, shoyo. welcome back to the hellhole that is my chat," he says, continuing to ignore the outrage rising in his stream. "hop in vc one, i'm gonna see if bokuto wants to play phasmophobia." your attention returns to your laptop and you continue with typing out the rest of your assignment.

you vaguely register kiyoomi saying something about grabbing another drink, forcing an ad onscreen before creeping over to you. his hands rest on the edge of the bed as he leans forward, pressing his lips softly to yours and smiling against your mouth. "i love you a lot."

"i love you more. when are you gonna stop convincing chat that i don't exist?"

"when they earn it," he answers simply, kissing the corner of your mouth and the tip of your nose. if lovesickness were a disease, he wouldn't mind being ill. "which i think will take a very long time."

"you are not making my stream debut a sub-goal," you chuckle, tilting your neck up to kiss the moles above his eyebrow. "i will not let you."

"how else are they gonna earn it?"

"i am not letting you monetize showing my face on your stream, omi," you reiterate with a delirious smile. he continues to push, nudging his nose against yours like a needy cat.

"you're cute when in my jersey. what if i end stream right now and just lay here with you?"

"okay, lover boy," you say, gently pushing his face away. "go back to--huh?" both of your attentions shoot to your phone, where the beaming face of bokuto's contact photo illuminated your screen. you swipe down on the sudden influx of notifications and feel your heart stop.

Less Tolerable Miya👎🏐: CHECK CHAT HAHAHA THERES NO FUCKIGN WAY Better Miya🍙🏐: oi check your volume stupid Bokuhoe Kotaro🦉✨🏐: BABE YOUR BOYFRIEND ISNT MTUED Less Tolerable Miya👎🏐: wait is my name in your phone still less tolerable miya Sunshine Shoyo🧡☀️🏐: SAKUSA'S STREAM SOUND IS ON

"oh...shit," he mutters, pressing one more kiss to your forehead before running to his computer and throwing his headphones on, face bright pink and tripping over his words. his chat is a wildfire, persistent and absolutely uncontrollable. at some point, kiyoomi just gives up and leans back in his chair, looking for you to help.

you raise your eyebrows in question.

he tilts his head to beckon you over.

you appear in the frame of his webcam, wearing his jersey. kiyoomi looks at you like you are the only thing that matters in his entire world.

"alright fuckers, you happy now that you've seen 'em? good, because if we reach subgoal, i'm gonna make them play fnaf with me."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#sakusa x reader #sakusa x you #sakusa x y/n #haikyu x you #haikyu x reader #haikyu x y/n #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x y/n #kiyoomi x reader #kiyoomi x you #kiyoomi x y/n #hq x you #hq x reader #hq x y/n

726 notes · View notes

bambheez · 1 year

Text

nonsense (s.jy)

SUMMARY: you overhear your best friend and roommate jake talking about his massive dick, so you decide you want to see it for yourself. PAIRING: bestfriend/roommate!jake x reader (afab) GENRE: smut (minors dni) WARNINGS: sub!jake, dom!reader, oral sex (m. receiving), size kink, reader is very VERY straightforward, jake has a huge dick, profanity WORD COUNT: 1.5k A/N: this is literally just pure filth. inspired by this post and ofc ‘nonsense’ by sabrina carpenter. as always, if you enjoyed/have feedback, please reblog/comment or send an ask. my inbox is always open!

“Small dick? Seriously? You know I’m—” he paused, remembering you were in the room with him. He turned around to see you laying on his bed, legs up in the air, eyes trained on your laptop screen.

Your ears perked up at the odd conversation; your earbuds were no longer playing any music, but you gave him no impression that you were eavesdropping.

“Know what, Jake? Cat got your tongue?” Heeseung snickered through his headphones, Jay following with a similar comment.

“Nah, Y/N’s in my room but she’s got her headphones in,” he lowered his voice to a whisper. “You know I’m bigger than both of you motherfuckers.”

Your lips lifted into a smirk at his confession. You could hear laughter booming from Jake’s headphones as you quietly put your earbuds away and moved off the bed toward him.

“How big?” you whispered against his ear.

He jolted in his seat, wincing from banging his toe into the leg of his desk.

“How big?” you repeated, now standing in front of him, blocking his view of the game. You lifted up your shirt to reveal your stomach. “Would it reach here,” you asked, pointing to a spot above your pubic bone. “Or here,” moving your finger up an inch. “Maybe here?” you circled around your belly button.

Jake visibly reddened, even under the faint green lights of his PC. His fingertips—currently resting against his keyboard—jerked back into motion at the realization that Heeseung and Jay were still on the call.

“Sorry, someone’s at the door,” he mumbled into his mic. “You guys play without me, I’ll hop on later.” He closed out of the game and Discord tab before taking his headphones off.

His fingers were fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, eyes—avoiding contact with yours—staring straight ahead at his desktop wallpaper.

“You didn’t answer my question, Jake.”

“Stop talking nonsense, Y/N,” he turned to look up at you, your body now leaning against his desk. “Why do you even want to know?” his adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped.

“So you were lying then?”

“No, but—”

“Then show me.”

Jake could feel himself hardening in his sweatpants. As much as he tried to ignore the ache between his thighs and tell you you were insane, the look you gave him—utterly earnest, like you wanted to devour him—made his insides stir.

You dropped to your knees with a thump, rolling his gaming chair out by its arms to face you. A groan ripped from Jake’s throat at the sight. You sat back on your heels to observe his reaction, his lids hooded and lips slightly parted. He nodded at you, watching as you glanced from his growing bulge back up to his eyes.

The imprint of his cock was visible, and your fingers flitted over him, traveling from his thighs up to the strings of his sweats.

He let out short, quick breaths before whimpering “please”.

You held back a giggle. When had he become so needy?

Pulling off his sweats and boxers in one swift motion, his cock slapped against his lower stomach. “Wow,” your mouth watered at the sheer size. And he wasn’t even fully hard yet.

His breath hitched in response, body squirming in your hold. Jumbled thoughts were running through his head at a hundred miles per hour. This was his roommate turned best friend on her knees, ogling at his erection.

You had thought about the size of his cock before, especially when he was lounging around in gray sweats. You’d caught glimpses of his bulge, and the size of it even when he was soft was enough to make your core throb in anticipation. You had thought about how his cock looked, too, and what you saw in front of you now exceeded your expectations in every way. His tip was red and flushed against his abdomen, a lengthy vein ran from his base to tip, and beads of precum were beginning to form at his slit.

You hesitantly wrapped both hands around the base of his cock. “Fuck,” you muttered. Two hands and barely half of his cock was covered.

He felt scorchingly hot under your touch. You squeezed at his base before devouring as much as you could of him in your mouth.

He cried out from above you, hands gripping the arms of his chair until his knuckles turned white. You could feel your underwear sticking to your folds as you tried to discreetly rock back and forth against your heels, desperate for some friction of your own.

You were bobbing up and down on the top half of his cock, tongue swirling around his tip and occasionally digging into his slit. Jake wanted so badly to keep his eyes open, to see the way you peered up at him through your lashes, but he could feel every inch of movement of your tongue running along his veins that the pleasure was much too intense.

Strings of curses flew from his mouth, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “You’re doing s-so well,” he whined before gently placing a hand on the back of your head.

I can do even better, you thought to yourself as you slowly removed your hands from his base and took him into your throat.

“Ah, oh f-fuck!” he moaned. You hollowed your cheeks, placing your hands on his hips to steady yourself.

Jake resisted the urge to start thrusting into your mouth, largely due to his disbelief that you could take him all the way.

You gagged around his length and he nearly choked on his breath from the sensation. Working your way down even farther, his tip hit the back of your throat while you moved your hands to knead at his thighs.

You pulled off of him to catch your breath, eyes twinkling up at him as a string of saliva stretched between his tip and your lips.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he croaked out, throat remarkably dry.

You gave him a small smile. Just you wait.

You took a deep breath before bringing your hands to the back of his hips, slamming his cock down your throat in one go. You repeatedly swallowed around his girth and Jake’s entire body convulsed under you, noises he didn’t know he was capable of making falling from his lips.

You buried the tip of your nose in his pelvis; your head was foggy, throat sore, and eyes watering, but the sight of Jake losing complete control under you made it worth it.

“I-I’m gonna—mmph,” he whined, bunching your hair in a fist.

You could see his abdomen clenching and feel his thighs twitching, signaling that he would cum any second. Jake opened his eyes to peer down at you and he had to physically grab your bobbing head to stop himself from cumming.

The view in front of him was the most sinful yet beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Your lips were slick and swollen, saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth down to your chin. Your hair was in a tangled mess from his grip, and there were tear streaks from your eyes down to your neck.

He brushed your hair out of your face and you smiled, humming around his cock. You sped up your pace before wrapping your arms around his hips again, sucking and swallowing around him as if your life depended on it.

“Oh shit, oh f-fuck, I’m cumming, Y/N I’m—”

You pushed your nose forward and took him to the hilt one last time before he was cumming with a shout of your name on his lips. Spurts of his warm release traveled down your throat, and Jake finally grabbed at your head with both hands, bucking his hips up and fucking your face as he chased his high.

Shockwaves of ecstasy traveled through Jake’s every vein and artery. You swallowed drop after drop of him until his thrashing and jerking under you slowed to a stop. His cock twitched in your mouth one final time, beginning to soften, when he pulled you off of him with a pop.

“Oh my god, Y/N,” Jake moaned like you’ve never heard a man moan before.

“Such a big, pretty cock”, you gave his tip a quick peck before tucking him back into his sweats. “But it’s a shame you don’t know how to use it”, you chuckled.

He whined at the comment, his finger reaching up to the corner of your lips, swiping at the residue of his release. He thought about your question from earlier, picturing reaching your cervix and filling you to the brim with his cum.

“Please, teach me?” he begged.

read part 2 here

#jake sim #jake smut #enhypen smut #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun smut #jake hard hours #enhypen hard hours #jake sim imagine #jake imagine #jake sim smut #enhypen jake #jake headcanon #enhypen headcanon #sub!jake #jake x reader #jake scenarios

4K notes · View notes