#roar song video

[roukabi]

Part 32 for detectivecalico's Tailchaser's Song MAP! been working on this since July, very happy with how it came out!

(Song is Wait for Me from the Hadestown OBC.)

[venterry]

music asks: 9 11 12

9 – A song that makes you happy theres quite a few actually! but off the top of my head i would say currently its a tie between

Always by YOU LOVE HER – first song on my skyrocket playlist it always immediately makes me imagine my little guys and i smile

Vela Nova from Sonic Rush (particularly the Silent Dreams mix) ... for Blaze :]

11 – A song that you never get tired of

I'll Keep Coming by Low Roar – its been 10 years straight of listening to this one and still going strong 💪 the soundscape in this just scratches a particular itch in my brain that i havent really found in many other songs since i was 15

12 – A song from your preteen years

Crush by Pendulum 🔥🔥🔥 another banger ive been listening to every year since i first heard it at 12

[someawesomeamvs]

Warning: Spoilers

Title: don't be so serious

Editor: Axen Nale

Song: Don't Be So Serious

Artist: Low Roar

Anime: The Girl from the Other Side

Category: Drama

[transgaysex]

i went to my baby sisters schoolwide music/singing show and i literally left feeling so happy

[asterixafterthis]

so I’m coming at kpop from a very usamerican nineties country music standpoint but. Do they really,,, not sell live albums???? Like there’s no world tour recording album? No live at the whatever famous stadium they’re in? ONLY studio recording??? This baffles me. I would INSTANTLY buy a live concert recording of literally any of cy8er’s albums (they’re not kpop but they are the band I’m the least normal about) and kpop fandoms have like. Their chants?? like they’re selling little baseball card selfies of the musicians and NOT live venue recordings?

[girlwtdragontattoo]

Yandere elf x reader - Bath time :)

Character and Art belongs to @meo-eiru! Please check out her blog ✨ Another BIG thanks for creating him!

This is a follow-up to my last fic: if you want to read that one, click here. I'm not sure if I'll do another one, a bit out of ideas lol.

Warning: 18+ content, drugging, general nsfw, explicit

—————

The water stung your damaged knee. Silas was preparing something in a wooden pail, humming some tune, while you sunk deeper into the hot spring. The water brushed your chin, as you glared at the back of the stupid elf’s head, bobbing back and forth as he dunked colorful fluids from flasks into the bucket. His long, luscious hair was levitating on the water's clear surface, covering his butt.

You were so close to freedom. He told you he’s enchanted the area now, stopping you from leaving entirely. No idea how that worked, but he showed you by pushing you gently against an invisible barrier. Your cheek had squished against the unseen partition, like when a human tests their cat’s intelligence against walls in those videos. “To protect you”, he explained in his sing-song trill.

If you hadn’t been injured, you would’ve made it. Away from this maniac.

“Look what Mama made!”

Silas held the bucket under your nose, smiling serenely. The liquid was a mix of pinkish goop and specks of sparkles. Your eyes lingered on the strange soup, then turned up to meet his excited face.

“What the fuck is this”, you mumbled crossly.

“No swearing, darling!” He patted your head. He didn’t know what the word “fuck” meant, but he read that it is bad for children to use. “It’s my healing salt! Doesn’t it smell amazing?”

Silas kept holding it under your nose. It did smell good, damn it.

“It will heal your poor leg. Plus, it makes everything feel a bit tingly. Healthy for cleaning up down there.” He gestured to his crotch.

Fuck.

Without warning, he dunked the solution into the bath. The mixture oozed slowly into the clear spring. The effect of it was almost instantaneous. You felt the biting pain ebb from your limb and you sighed in relief. Elf magic was so fascinating. If only Silas wasn’t such a freaking psycho. You would love to learn more about it. And then go back home and sleep in a bed without tits in your face.

He was right about the prickly sensation. You felt a warmth pulsate down there, as you absentmindedly sunk deeper into the water. Your gaze blurred and you felt the comfort of the heat engulf you.

Silas pulled you to him and placed you in his lap. His towering upper body remained out of the pool, the breezy touch of his skin a great juxtaposition to the searing heat of the water. To be fully engulfed, he would have had to spread himself across the whole spring, leaving no room for you.

You felt him grow below you. The effects of the water seemed to work on his form as well. His cheeks blushed.

“Be good, darling.” He breathed into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Let’s heal you completely.”

Your leg was fine. You didn’t need any more healing.

Silas’ lips brushed yours, his tongue slinking quickly and entangling in yours. The potion and his saliva were making you go crazy, your lap roaring with want. It was impossible to bottle up.

The potion made movement slow. You were attempting to push away with the last of your wits, but it came across as you gently pressing his chest together. He misunderstood and held your face up to his breasts.

“Drink up…”, he trebled, leading your mouth to his hard teat. It was hopeless.

Your wet lips traced around it and you felt the elf jitter under you with excitement. His hands were softly trailing down your back and took hold of your bottom, squeezing the soft tissue. The water delayed his movement, but you felt him lift you slightly, hovering dangerously above his throbbing shaft.

You could feel him against your entrance, nudging slightly. The heat consumed you, thrumming in the area, wanting. You released your lips from his chest, gazing dozily into his red face. If he was blushing more, you could not tell. He looked so enthralled; the big, dumb eyes full of devotion to you.

Silas crashed into your lips again, kissing desperately, lapping up every part of your mouth. The more saliva you exchanged, the more you felt yourself pulsate. The waves within you crashed, begging for relief. You tried to use your arms to push him off of you, but they felt so limp.

You hated this effect he had on you. You couldn’t stop yourself. This surge and needing the release - it drove you insane.

Floating above him in the spring, you felt him twitch there in unfair expectation. He was far too massive for you.

Silas wrapped one arm around your waist, pushing you closer into his body. Your breasts compressed against his and he moaned shakily at the sensation.

“Mama will heal you, dear…”, he huffed after releasing himself from your lips, with bits of drivel escaping his mouth. “I lov-“

You couldn’t take it anymore. You sat down on him, letting the beginning of him enter you with a strong jerk. He filled you up, with just so little of him inside. Your entire body shook from the flash.

Silas head knocked back; his eyes crossed as he let out the loudest yelp you had ever heard from him. He had never felt you like this before. He only dared milking himself in your sweet mouth, for fear of tearing you apart. But this… the feeling of your tight, velvety walls, the little he could feel of it was enough to make his world spin.

He instinctively grabbed your hips with a jolt and lifted you up and down on him. He wanted more of that sensation, more. More. More!

You were bouncing on top of him and felt every sinew explode with electricity. He bucked his hips slightly when you bobbed back down, but not too much in fear of breaking you, slowly deepening each thrust.

Although you could hear his pitiful “Ah! Ah! Ah!”s, your entire environment seemed to muffle. All you could feel was the inconsolable penetration. The way every jab made your groin burst into flames. The water splashed vigorously around you, as he guided your body into his. He lifted you like you weighed nothing. His head was still jerked back with his eyes in the back of his head, it seemed he was unable to do anything other than plunge halfway into you.

You couldn’t help but release low moans yourself, the note of your bellows making him tense up more. His large hands were clasping your ass, the flesh spilling out between his long fingers. You whimpered and let him consume you, every thrust splitting your walls further. The loud clapping of your bodies and the vigorous splashing, you were intoxicated. The sounds. The sensation. It was diabolical.  

You let out a string of deep moans, as you came, the wetness around his shaft increasing as you tightened your grip around him. Silas couldn’t hold it any longer, either, as he erupted within you, squealing from the overwhelming pleasure.

He spilled out of you. A puddle of white foam bubbled around you. Silas heaved loudly, blinking excessively and tilted his head back forward, staring dumbfoundedly at you.

He looked like you beat him up. Tears were escaping his rippling eyes, as a tiny sob hiccupped out of him.

Fucking baby.

“D-Do you feel better now? Have I healed you?”, he squeaked, pulling you into his arm cages again.

You rolled your eyes and nodded out of sheer vanquish. There was no point explaining to him that this wasn’t how you heal humans. There was no point explaining to him that mothers don't do this.

Silas kissed your head and swirled his hand in the water, making his semen drift away from you. “Oh…all the precious milk. Gone…”

He grabbed a sponge from behind him and started cleaning you feebly, his hands still shaking from the massive release. You saw a tear fall from his cheek. Without thinking, you brushed another one off his cheek.

He gaped at you after the gesture, pausing his scrubbing.

“O-oh darling. You really love me, don’t you? That’s why it felt so good…”, he smiled widely, more tears splashing out of his googly eyes.

You didn’t answer. You didn't know why you just did that.

Silas hugged you so tightly, you let out a wheeze.

“I love you too, my sweet!!” he squeaked and squished you more. “It’s getting late. We still need to have dinner! And you need a proper portion of milk!”

You closed your eyes, sighing.

Another milking session...

[luvsupa]

“YOU’RE A STAR!”

tags: musician!choso x manager fem!reader, reader has a secret fan account, both are in 20, choso has lots of tattoos and is an r&b singer, he has piercings, smut (p in v), ōral sex (f!recieving), sub!choso (ish), voyeurism, etc. mdni.

w.c: 3,2k

a/n: YALL I’m almost at 2k LIKE THATS INSANEEEE!! TY GUYS SOSOS MUCHHH AHHH

+ erm if there’s errors lmkk

you sit in choso’s expansive dressing room, surrounded by his makeup and fashion assistants, eyes glued to the big screen as he finishes his final song of the concrrt. the sound of thousands of screaming fans fills the air, their voices blending with his deep, angelic one. even from back here, you can hear the unmistakable roar of the crowd, hanging onto every note he sings. the way he commands the stage, the way he moves—everything about him makes your chest tighten.

he looks unreal tonight, his stylist outdid themselves. the subversive, edgy look suits him perfectly, especially the ripped wife-beater that showcases his inked arms, gleaming under the stage lights. the body glitter you suggested—yeah, that was definitely a good call- catches the light in all the right ways, making him look out of this world.

you’re supposed to be his manager, maintaining some form of professionalism, but damn, it’s impossible when he looks this good. especially when he runs his hand through those messy brown locks , letting a few strands fall over his face. you bite your lip, trying to focus on anything but the way your heart races when he’s on stage.

the thought of professionalism slips even further when you pull out your phone, dimming the brightness low. not for work—no, not tonight. instead, you open the app you use to connect with his fanbase under your secret username.

chogetsmewetter

it still makes you smirk every time you see it. his fans had been relentless, trying to bribe you for the username. but it’s yours, and you're not giving it up for anyone.

chogetsmewetter: are u guys seeing how good he looks… need him immediately

responses flood in almost instantly.

chososwhore: baby, nobody wants him more than i do…

choochoo: y’all send videos of the concert plzzz :(

kamosbaby: my baby daddy lookin good on stage.

you’re too caught up in scrolling through the candid photos and fan reactions, smiling like an idiot, when the makeup assistant catches you off guard.

“what’s got you smiling like that?” she teases, arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

you quickly shove your phone into your pocket, plastering on your best fake smile. “just checking cho’s schedule for next week. his brothers want to surprise him at the last show.”

it’s a lie, of course, but you’re used to spinning quick stories, and she just shrugs, moving on. but not without another jab. “girl, you love calling him cho, don’t you? does he let you call him that in bed too?”

your eyes widen as choso’s fashion designer giggles along with her. “guys, nothing’s going on. we’re strictly business—i manage his schedule, and that’s it.” but the words taste bitter, even as you force them out. nothing more. yeah, right.

the deafening cheers from the TV rescue you from any more teasing. all eyes turn to the screen as choso wraps up, thanking the crowd with that deep, velvet voice of his. the camera zooms in on his face, his lips curling into a soft smile as he waves and blows kisses to the adoring fans. gosh, he’s perfect.

a few moments later, the dressing room doors swing open, and there he is. choso, in the flesh, followed by his bodyguards. his team erupts in cheers, swarming him with praise, but you move to the back in the corner, blending into the background. moments like this are too chaotic for you, but you know you’ll have your moment later, probably on the tour bus.

amidst the chaos, his eyes find you, and he frowns a little when he sees you typing away on your phone, oblivious to the world. he doesn't know, of course, that you're replying to posts about him.

before you can finish your latest message, you feel him standing right in front of you, towering over you. the air feels thick between you two, and you curse internally as you slip your phone into your pocket once again, heart racing.

“you forgetting something?” his voice is low, teasing, as he glances down at your hands.

you quickly shake your head, trying to play it cool. “c’mon, cho, you know i’d never survive in that crowd,” you say, nodding toward the gaggle of team still dying for his attention.

his hands, cold from the stage, slide into yours, pulling you just a little closer. you swallow hard. “i knowww, but your support matters the most outta all of ‘em,” he says, rocking slightly, his lips curling into that perfect half-smile. the one that makes your stomach flip.

he smells incredible, the scent of his unreleased cologne wrapping around you, making your head spin. you smile, turning away, but he moves with you, trying to catch a glimpse of that smile.

“c’mon, let’s grab dinner. my director’s waiting,” he says, releasing your hands, and you instantly frown, missing his touch.

you follow him and his bodyguards out, offering a quick farewell to the makeup and fashion team. they don’t miss the chance to wink at you, clearly still enjoying the teasing.

as you near the exit, the noise outside grows louder—fans desperate to catch one last glimpse of choso. this is the part of the night you dread, knowing how insane the crowd can get. but when he looks over his shoulder and gives you that grin, the chaos doesn’t seem so bad.

two guards swing open the doors, harsh light flooding in as flashes from cameras blind you instantly. the screams grow deafening, and you brace yourself. this is always the worst part—being unable to see, disoriented, as the paparazzi go wild trying to capture every inch of choso’s presence.

but choso? he thrives in this. he’s in his element, beaming as he dives straight into the crowd. signing albums, posing for photos, accepting gifts—he eats it all up. you trail behind one of his bodyguards, eyes flickering to where he’s standing. your heart clenches as you catch sight of him—his lips locked with a fan.

you swallow hard. it’s not the first time. he always does this with her—his so-called “number one fan.” he remembers her face, her name, every single time. each time he kisses her in front of his adoring crowd, it feels like a punch to the gut. the fans love it. the media laps it up, turning her into a minor celebrity among his fandom.

how do you know? through your secret fan account.

you scoff quietly to yourself as you slip past the crowf, making it safely onto the tour bus. heading straight for the private area at the back, you drop your bag onto one of the leather couches, sinking into the seat by the window. from here, you can still see him outside, giving the fans hugs, taking endless photos. you watch in silence, jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.

finally, after what feels like forever, choso steps onto the bus, breathless and flushed. he walks down the aisle toward you, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“fuckkk, they’re amazing,” he groans, collapsing onto the couch beside you, still riding the high from the crowd.

they’re amazing? or she’s amazing…

you force a smile, eyes glued to your phone. “you looked like you were having fun, choso,” you mutter, distracted by your personal texts. his head drops back with a groan. one thing he can’t stand is when you don’t give him your full attention.

before he can start whining, one of the fashion designers calls your name from the front of the bus. you sigh, getting up quickly to see what the issue is. in your rush, you leave your phone behind on the couch.

choso watches as you walk away, eyes narrowing when he sees your phone lying there. you never leave it behind, always keeping it close, and curiosity gnaws at him. his leg bounces as he contemplates it. fuck it.

he snatches your phone up, eyes widening as the first thing he sees on your notification center is all he need to see.

[chogetsmewetter] new like from choochoo and 100+ others:

I need to fuck choso nowww, he’s so fuckin hot it’s not fairrr.

damn.

a slow, wicked grin spreads across his face. so that’s why you’ve been acting weird. he sets your phone back down just as he hears your footsteps returning.

you return, completely unaware of what just happened. “choso, they said we can’t leave until another hour—” you start to explain, but he’s not listening. his thoughts are elsewhere, his leg bouncing slightly as he bites the inside of his cheek.

“how do you want me to fuck you?” he suddenly blurts out, his voice low and dark.

your eyes widen, body stiffening as his bold words hit you like a train. you fumble for the curtain, pulling it shut so the driver can’t hear.

“w-what the fuck are you talking about?” you stammer, your breath catching in your throat. his dark brown eyes lock onto yours, unwavering. he doesn’t need to say it—his gaze tells you everything.

he knows.

panic rises inside you as you glance toward your phone and then back to him. he nods slowly, confirming your worst fear. he found out.

“so… are you those shy freaks…” he asks casually, standing up from the couch. his towering frame looms over you, and your world feels like it’s shrinking as he removes his leather jacket, revealing his tattooed, muscular arms.

“y-you wanna do this here? in front of the fans?” you whisper loudly, eyes darting toward the windows that are now covered by the blinds.

he chuckles, low and wicked. “you didn’t seem to care posting your dirty thoughts in front of me.”

and he ate with that one.

just like how he’s now devouring you in the back of the tour bus. you’re nestled on the couch, right in front of the curtains that separate the chaos outside from your little world. choso is on his knees, going at you like a possessed man. your legs are pushed tight against your chest as he laps up your juices, sucking and swallowing your sweet fluids. his cold nose piercing nudges your clit as his tongue thrusts deep inside you at an inhumane speed. any trace of shame has long evaporated, replaced by his loud moans vibrating against your cunt, making your eyes cross slightly.

your hands tangle in his silky brown locks, tugging gently, which earns you a whimper as he pulls back, your essence and saliva coating his chin and glossy lips. “mmm, p-pull on it more, pretty,” he urges, gazing up at you with doe eyes, brows furrowed in concentration as he loses himself in you once again.

obeying him, you tug harder on his hair, bucking your hips against his face while his hands grip the back of your thighs, pushing you deeper into your chest. he’s growling now, lost in the pleasure he’s giving you.

“yesss, f-fuck, you’re so goooddd,” you praise, head thrown back as he slurps at your juices like a starving man. he pulls away to admire your twitching hole, his fingers parting your folds wider. he spits a wad of saliva directly into your gaping pussy, making you clench instinctively as he slides in two thick digits, effortlessly gliding through your sloppy walls. his thrusts are calculated as he studies your features, which are now squeezed shut in bliss.

“hmm, she’s fuckin’ wettt,” he comments, your pussy responding with loud, squelching sounds that fill the back of the bus, echoing your mess. “hahh, you put that username to use,” he taunts, your body burning with embarrassment. his thick fingers pick up speed, massaging that sweet spot, and your back arches off the couch, your lower tummy tingling as your breath quickens.

choso can sense you’re close, the way you tighten around him. suddenly, he sucks hard on your clit, swirling his tongue around your poor nub. you cover your mouth with your hands, muffling the moans that threaten to escape .

just before you can cry out his name, he pulls his fingers out, leaving you undone. he retreats from your soaked clit, watching your translucent essence dribble down your convulsing hole, spilling onto the couch. your breath hitches as he delivers a sharp slap to your pussy, jolting electricity through your body, and the sticky remnants of your orgasm cling to his palm, igniting an insatiable addiction to your sensitivity.

“nahhh, is this the wettest you can get?” he says, rising from his knees and unzipping his jeans, pulling his throbbing cock free from its confines. your mind goes blank at the sight. fuck, he definitely never lied about his size, especially in his songs. choso sits beside you, manhandling you onto his lap, your pussy pressing against his hard cock as you whimper,

this is really happening.

“ride me, darling—use me all you want.” he states, and it feels like you’re living out your dirtiest dream, because yu are. he leaves trails of kisses along the side of your neck, his glossy lips—coated in your cum—smudging against your skin. you stare down at his shaft, his leaky tip begging to be touched. raising your hips, you grab the base of his cock, making him wince as you align his rosy tip with your drooling entrance. his crownhead stretches you open, and you whimper at how big he is with each inch you take. your velvety walls accommodate his size, practically expanding as he settles into your pussy.

without warning, choso grips your hips, slamming you down against him. you wail as every inch of his cock plunges deep inside your walls, and he moans at how tight you are around him. “f-fuck, baby, takin’ so fuckin’ l-long,” he says impatiently, thrusting up into you as each movement leaves you more dazed and breathless.

with newfound courage, your hips immediately fuck back into his, faster than his sloppy thrusts, making his eyes roll back in pleasure. your grinding drives him wild, your pussy gripping him like it’s life or death. choso’s head falls back, broken moans slipping past his lips, his adam’s apple bobbing as he struggles to hold back even more sounds of ecstasy.

you can feel the heat building between you, his cock stretching you further with each thrust. you grind down harder, relishing the way his body responds, each movement causing him to whimper and squirm beneath you. his hands grip your waist, guiding you, but you can tell he’s losing himself in the sensation, growing more ditzy with every upward thrust.

“c’mon, baby, ride me h-harder,” he begs, voice thick with desperation. his eyes fluttering as he’s moaning loudly. it’s intoxicating, watching him come undone because of you. you match your pace to the rhythm of his moans, your slickness coating him more with each thrust. the sound of your bodies slapping together drowns out the cheers of the fans outside, your pussy so noisy it’s almost too loud for your own liking.

“mmm, keep your eyes on me, pretty boy,” you purr, brushing your fingertips through his hair, tugging a big- earning a whimper at the pet name. you can see the way he bites his lip, trying to hold back more moans, but you know he won’t last long.

“hgn, you think jus’ cause you’re on top ‘m your bitch?” he groans, the tension between you two thcick. his gaze is wild, pupils dilated, and it only drives you further as you increase your pace, your hips slamming hard against his thighs, coating his throbbing base with your slickness. you giggle as he pathetically moans out, hands gripping your flesh tighter as you grind harder. his chubby tip sloppily kisses your cervix, sending shockwaves through your body as it begins to shake.

the way he reacts to every thrust, every grinding motion sends a thrill down your spine. he’s completely lost in you, his breathing ragged and unsteady. “y-you feel so good,” he stammers, voice breaking as he struggles to keep his focus, each word laced with pleasure. you smirk, feeling powerful, proud at the control you have over him.

“mhmm, ‘m starting to think y’er all talk, cho. you’re not showing me how you’d fuck me,” you taunt, leaning in his ear and tugging on his ear piercings, making him shudder at your seductive voice.

your words truly did something to him, awakening something much darker within. without hesitation, he carelessly picks you up, sliding his cock out of your hole as he slams you against the table adjacent to the couch. bending you over, he realigns himself with your hypnotizing cunt, the air thick with the heat of your lust. choso slams his entire length into your pussy, the sound of slickness echoing in the cramped space as your body squelches loudly, both of you moaning in unison. he grips your hips tightly, pounding mercilessly into you, each thrust sending shockwaves through your body as you cry out, not caring if the bus driver or any staff hears your cries of pleasure.

“cunt so good,” he growls, feeling you clamp down hard on his girthy length. his moan resonates deep within your core as he swats your ass, the sound of skin meeting skin sending electric jolts through you. he feels like he’s deep in your guts, rearranging everything inside you, each thrust making your pussy squelch obscenely. it’s so loud that it drowns out any sounds from outside, the wet slaps of your bodies merging into a symphony of lust. you’re practically squeaking like a damn mouse with every thrust, your body unable to contain the pleasure coursing through you.

without warning, he grips your hair and pulls you up against him, his mouth brushing against your ear as he whispers, “take it all, mama. you can take it.” his words send a shiver down your spine, the duality of his sweet yet dominating tone intensifying your arousal. you nod, feeling yourself surrender completely to him, wanting nothing more than to be his.

“m-more cho’ ,” you whine, and he responds with a primal growl, his hips slamming into yours harder, faster, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. his movements are relentless, each thrust a story to his desire, his need for you. you can feel the tension coiling tighter within you, the pressure building to a breaking point.

but then, in the midst of your euphoric bliss, you slowly open your eyes, and your jaw drops in shock. he placed you directly in front of the window, where all the fans are just outside, oblivious to the scandalous scene unfolding inside. the reality of the moment crashes over you, and you gasp, suddenly aware of the possibility of being seen.

“c-cho… the—fuckk—the fans,” you manage to warn, your entire body jolting with his relentless thrusts, each one motivating him to go even faster, to claim you harder.

“nahh, now you wanna back out?” he snarls through gritted teeth, going absolutely feral. his grip tightens as he reaches to grab the back of your hair, pulling you flush against his chest, forcing you to take him deeper. the blinds rattle as he yanks them open wider, letting in more light for the fans to see everything happening inside. the flashes from paparazzi cameras blind your vision as they snap multiple shots of your fucked out expression, choso grinning behind like a devil at each click.

“say cheese, pretty. you’re gonna be a star,”

[suna-cerely-yours]

Break Point ft k. sakusa

synopsis: tennis!au -you shouldn't be letting your boyfriend's rival feel you up in the locker room, and you certainly shouldn't be getting on your knees for him, especially given the history between the two of you

warnings : mdni, smut, fem! bodied reader, reader has she/her pronouns, degradation, cheating, oral (m! recieving), public sex, pussy jobs, hair pulling, reader is called a good girl

song rec : fetish -selena gomez

"and we're back folks! that was some first set- of course, we are in the US Open semi-finals, and it is sakusa and terushima on the court!"

the crowd roars as you adjust your sunglasses and pick up your honey deuce to take a sip, eyes trained on terushima sitting on the bench with a towel over his head. unwillingly, you find your gaze pulled towards the player on the other side of the umpire's chair, sakusa kiyoomi uncapping a bottle of electrolytes before tilting his head back and bringing the bottle to his mouth. you take another sip, watching the strong column of his throat move as he gulps his water.

"this infamous rivalry's brought everyone together today. over in terushima's box, is, of course, his beautiful girlfriend- joined by his high-school friends!"

you raise your head and smile, raising your honey deuce as the cameras pan over to your seat at the commentator's words. in the row behind you terushima's friends holler and whistle, waving a banner with his face on it.

"terushima's partner is pretty private, so it's a real treat that we managed an interview with her before the match- she's had some fun stuff to say about this rivalry and today's match."

you watch as you pop up on the big screen, dressed in the blue and white dress you'd picked out specially for this match- makeup and hair fresher than it currently was. the string of diamonds around your throat winks in the light as you nod at whatever the interviewer was saying.

"what do you think about sakusa? he's given your boyfriend quite a good amount of grief this season."

the video-you laughs at the question, red lips curling upward. "well, he's been a household name for some time now. yuji thinks more about him than about me, if we're being frank."

"do you think his victories are earned? sakusa's won 5 out of the 6 times they've met so far, and their rivalry goes way back to their juniors days."

"sakusa's definitely a really good player, and he's improved a lot since his defeat at last year's wimbledon final. i- we, yuji and i both think he's someone to watch out for, especially if he can clean up his net play a little more. he, for sure, has the potential to surpass the big 3."

the interviewer raises her eyebrows at your admission, and Arthur Ashe clamors in real time. you sink your teeth into your lower lip, as the other screen shows sakusa's reaction to your words. as usual, the man is stoic, showing no signs of having heard your praise. however, his sharp eyes are focused on the screen showing your interview, having stopped all his inter-set preparations.

"and what about terushima? do you think he can surpass the big 3?"

you're silent for a touch too long before showering yuji with praise, however it doesn't seem like anyone except you had noticed the pause. yuji's grinning from his bench on the court making kissy faces at the screen. he has everyone's attention.

you swallow, shifting your focus back to sakusa, who's no longer looking at the screen, but has his eyes trained on you, a faint smirk evident on his face. well, that pause hadn't escaped everyone's notice. kissing your teeth, you avert your eyes- taking another sip of your honey deuce. arthur ashe titters one final time before silence settles again as the players take their positions, sakusa's serve.

"and at 144 mph that's this season's fastest serve yet! i would not want to be the one who faces that serve, that's for sure."

you lean forward, taking off your sunglasses as the men enter the fifth and final set, sakusa breaking in the first game itself. you, as well as the rest of the centre court, watch with bated breaths as the game gets tense- so focused that you completely miss the dark clouds rolling in and the thunder rumbling ominously. there's not a moment of notice as the sky opens up, the downpour brutal. fat, cold raindrops assault your senses as you scramble for cover- dress already sticking and hair frizzing. making your way down the stairs into the gallery, you hear the commentators announce the official postponement of the match.

going down a level further, you push open the double doors to reach the locker rooms. surprisingly, there's no one around. there's a clang of a locker closing somewhere, and you walk towards the sound- your heels clacking loudly. turning the corner, you freeze as a pale, muscular back- scattered with moles- comes into view. sakusa kiyoomi stands with his back to you, shirtless, with his shorts riding low and a towel slung over his shoulder. at your sharp intake he turns, hooded eyes pinning you in place.

"sorry, i um- i'll just-"

you shouldn't be here. (you've been here too many times to be anywhere else.)

he says nothing but keeps his eyes on you as he towels his hair. your gaze unconsciously strays to his biceps as they flex at the motion, before snapping back to his face. he stares at you for a moment longer, before throwing his towel back into the locker and slamming the door shut. you feel heat creeping up your cheeks as he turns to you again.

"why are you here again?"

"sorry, i just- i thought-"

he keeps quiet, cocking his head to the side, waiting for you to continue. you stammer once more before shutting up.

"sorry. i'll leave."

you feel a lump in your throat at his curt words, but you have no right to be upset. you know that very well. you're almost at the corner when his words cause you to stop.

"the big three?"

you pause, memories of younger kiyoomi talking about his dreams flashing through your mind. swallowing, you turn around.

"you know you could do it. coming from me it means nothing."

"nothing?"

you pause again, feeling your neck prickle with heat against his intense stare. he hasn't moved an inch, yet you feel cornered- like prey.

"it should mean nothing."

he scoffs at this, taking a step closer.

"is that what helps you sleep at night? do you say it before you slip your hand into your panties imagining it's my dick inside you, or do you say it after- as long as there's no guilty conscious right?"

you blink at his words, before retorting sharply, "kiyo you can't speak to me like that, watch your words-"

"so i'm kiyo again? what happened to sakusa? you said it so sweetly in the interview. i'm a regular at your perfect white picket fence household, right?"

you step back, hitting a locker, unaware that you'd been backing up. he's in front of you before you can blink, pressing up against you, one hand gripping your waist the other flat against the locker beside your head. leaning closer his breath fans across your face as he pants, still breathing deeply from his match.

"you show up- as you always do when he's playing against me- wearing the dress i bought you, the dress i fucked you in- wrapped in diamonds i bought you, diamonds that rest where my hands used to-

and that's fine. that's perfectly fine. but showing up here? in this locker room? and saying your words mean nothing to me?"

you whimper, eyes falling shut as he grips your face, smearing your lipstick with his thumb. the scent of his cologne mixed with his sweat crowds your senses, dimming them. slipping his thumb into your mouth he presses against your tongue. you obediently part your mouth, pressing your thighs to relieve some of the pressure. sakusa scoffs again, slotting his thigh between your legs, allowing you to press down and rut against him.

"what a slut, do you get wet like this for everyone? or am i just special baby? do you let every fucker who plays against your darling boyfriend feel you up in the locker room? does the idea of you getting fucked by someone he'll lose against turn him on too?"

your eyes roll back as you moan, sliding a hand to your breast, before it's snatched back by kiyoomi, pinned against the locker. his touch is too familiar for you to consider him as sakusa, he's always been your kiyo.

"you're going to get off humping my leg like a dog in heat baby, i know you can do it," he coos, grip on your face tightening.

you whimper at his words, grinding down harder. everything feels so hot, with kiyoomi pressing his body against you- weight heavy. his scent is everywhere.

"actually- i don't think you deserve that."

your eyes fly open as he shifts his thigh and moves away, leaving you cold and slumped against the lockers. you breathe heavily, fingers scrambling for purchase behind you to keep yourself upright.

you open your mouth to say something, anything- but you draw blank. what can you even say?

kiyoomi stands still in front of you, arms crossed- but with his shorts tenting it's clear he's not entirely unaffected. his dark eyes remain fixed on you, but he says nothing. the two of you remain suspended like this for a few heartbeats. you see his adam's apple bob as he swallows once, twice- before taking a step back.

"you should leave. he's probably waiting for you."

you should leave. he's definitely waiting for you.

you nod slowly, straightening your spine. taking a deep breath, you reach for your bag which you had dropped sometime during and dig through it for a tissue. your makeup must be a mess.

glancing back at kiyoomi you pause- watching as he sinks down on a bench and leans back to rest on his elbows. his legs part as he breathes, chest rising- erection still straining against his shorts.

the sight is so familiar, your heart aches. your mouth feels dry as he drops his head back, revealing the strong column of his neck.

your panties stick uncomfortably, pussy still throbbing. your breasts feel heavy as you drop your bag again, turning towards him. heat trickles down your spine as you reach for the zipper of your dress, unable to move your eyes from his physique. your dress pools by your feet as you step out of it, now dressed in nothing but your panties, heels, and his diamonds.

kiyoomi still hasn't moved.

teeth sinking into your lower lip, you reach to unbuckle your heels, your brain on autopilot. now barefoot, you pad towards kiyo, sinking to your knees in between his parted legs.

you should leave.

you reach forward to mouth at kiyo's erection, pressing open-mouthed kisses on his cock through the fabric. above you kiyo still hasn't moved, but he sighs, carding a hand through your hair. pressing a hand to his thigh for balance, you move to pull him out, continuing to mouth at his shaft. leaning forward you take him in your mouth, slowly easing him in until you feel him hit the back of your throat. eyes watering, you breath slowly, sucking him the way you know he likes it. you feel kiyo tug at your roots, and you look up at him, eyes locking. his eyes are hooded and impossibly dark, mouth bitten red as he pants.

"my pretty girl, so good for me, only for me," he slurs, grip on your hair tightening. you moan, taking him deeper, swallowing him. kiyo groans, head tipping back again. you slip your hand into your panties, desperate for some friction, moaning again. before you can move however, you find yourself being lifted straight up onto his lap.

now straddling him, your pussy slides against his dick, as you grasp his shoulders for purchase.

"you just couldn't stay away could you? what a filthy little whore. what would those reporters say if they could see you now, hmm? tennis's favourite girlfriend is nothing but a cock hungry slut, but not for her boyfriend, no- for her boyfriend's rival," he coos.

"kiyo, fuck," you whimper, everything is too much.

he moves you again, this time standing up to push you against the locker once again. your legs tremble as you lean back. he slaps your tits, as you jerk, gasping.

"kiyokiyokiyo, please," you whine, unsure what exactly you want him to do. yanking your panties down, he pumps his cock once, before tapping the head against your clit. bullying the head between your lips, he groans, rutting against you.

slapping your tits once again, he grips his cock, inhaling sharply- and he cums all over you pussy and panties. you whine again, reaching to pull his head down, needing to kiss him.

"fuck. fuck, you're so-," he pants into your neck. you nod deliriously, you need to cum so badly it hurts.

the doors clang loudly.

"yo, sakusa, you in here? the weather's cleared up, they're sayin' if it's cool with the both of us we can continue in 30 minutes."

the two of you spring apart, alarm bells ringing in your mind as you pull up your panties. rushing to your dress, you struggle to put it on.

kiyo shoots you one last look, before calling out, "sure man, you mind letting them know on my behalf? i'll be right up."

the footsteps stop just you're stumbling into your shoes.

"of course my guy, no problem."

the doors open again, and you sigh in relief.

"say, you wouldn't have seen my girl anywhere, would you? she's disappeared."

you freeze again, but sakusa's moving past you now, rounding the corner with his tennis bag hung over his shoulder.

"nah, haven't seen her."

[gilbertscurls]

Sucker ➵ Matt Sturniolo

summary: matt is your biggest fan, and nick surprises him with concert tickets.

Matt sat in his room, adjusting the camera as he, Nick, and Chris wrapped up a Q&A video. It was supposed to be just a chill recording session, but as usual, his brothers found a way to bring you up.

Chris grinned as he read the final question. “Alright, Matt, this one's for you. What’s your favorite song from her latest album?”

Matt felt his face heat up, the teasing smirks from Nick and Chris making it worse. He knew exactly who they were talking about—you, the pop sensation who had taken over his playlists and, frankly, his thoughts. Fans had long since figured out Matt’s admiration for you, turning it into a running joke on their channel. No matter how much he tried to play it cool, it always came up.

Trying to suppress his smile, Matt cleared his throat. “Uh, probably Midnight Rush. The lyrics are insane, and the production is just… it hits different.”

Nick let out a laugh, shaking his head. “Dude, we can’t sit in the car with you without hearing that song like five times.”

Chris chuckled, too. “Pretty sure the fans know by now you’ve got it bad for her.”

Matt rolled his eyes, but the truth was, they weren’t wrong. You were the only artist who had him completely hooked. It wasn’t just your music—it was the way you carried yourself, the interviews he’d watched, the energy you brought to your performances. He’d never met you, but somehow, he felt like he already knew you.

Once the cameras were off, Matt breathed a sigh of relief, thinking the teasing was done for the day. But Nick had other plans. With a mischievous grin, Nick reached into his pocket and pulled out two sleek tickets, holding them behind his back.

Matt raised an eyebrow. “What are you hiding?”

With a flourish, Nick revealed the tickets. Matt’s eyes went wide as he saw the words printed across the top: [Your Name] - Los Angeles - SOLD OUT.

“No way,” Matt breathed, his heart racing. “This can’t be real.”

Nick grinned, clearly proud of himself. “Front row seats. Figured it was about time you saw her live, huh?”

Matt stared at the tickets in disbelief, his hands shaking slightly as he took them. It wasn’t just the idea of going to your concert—it was the reality of finally seeing you live, right there in front of him. For years, he’d talked about you, fangirled in front of millions of his followers, and admired you from afar. Now, the idea of being in the same room as you, seeing you perform just a few feet away, sent a rush of excitement and nerves through him.

“What if… what if I meet her?” Matt muttered, the thought both thrilling and terrifying.

Nick chuckled. “Then you better figure out how to act normal.”

Matt laughed, but deep down, he wasn’t so sure. Meeting you, even just seeing you in person, was something he’d daydreamed about for ages. Now it felt like it was right there, within reach.

As the day of the concert approached, Matt's excitement grew, and when they arrived at the venue, he could hardly believe it. The energy in the room was electric, fans buzzing around him as they waited for you to take the stage. And when the lights dimmed, and you walked out, it hit him like a wave. You were even more captivating in person, your voice filling the room, your presence commanding every ounce of his attention.

Matt could hardly believe he was at your concert, front row, watching you perform live. After years of admiring you from afar, following your rise to superstardom, and making your music a regular feature on his channel, this moment felt surreal. The energy of the venue, the roaring crowd, and most of all—you, up there on stage, commanding every bit of attention—made his heart race.

When you hit the last note of your final song and smiled at the crowd, Matt was completely transfixed. He’d never felt this way before—like he was seeing something magical unfold in front of him. As the lights came up and the crowd erupted in applause, he felt a tug in his chest. You were even more amazing in person.

He turned to Nick, still in a daze. “That was insane.”

Nick smirked. “Yeah, but the night's not over.”

Before Matt could ask what he meant, one of the event staff approached them. “Are you Matthew Sturniolo?” she asked, glancing between him and Nick.

Matt blinked, thrown off by the question. “Uh, yeah?”

She smiled. “Come with me. Someone wants to meet you.”

Matt’s heart dropped into his stomach as she led them backstage. Nick shot him a knowing look, but Matt could barely process what was happening. His mind raced, trying to figure out if this was real—if you actually wanted to meet him. It seemed impossible.

When they reached your dressing room, the door opened, and there you were. Standing just a few feet away, dressed down after the show, looking even more radiant up close. Matt froze for a moment, unsure what to say or do, completely starstruck.

You smiled as you approached, extending your hand. “Matt Sturniolo, right?”

Matt blinked, shaking your hand almost robotically. “Uh, yeah. That’s me.”

You laughed, clearly amused by his reaction. “I’ve actually watched some of your videos. You and your brothers are hilarious.”

Matt’s jaw nearly hit the floor. You had watched his videos?

Nick snickered from behind him. “Told you the night's not over.”

“You’ve watched our videos?” Matt repeated, trying to wrap his mind around it.

You nodded, leaning against the armrest of a couch, completely at ease. “Yeah, I love your channel. You guys have great energy. It’s fun to watch.” You paused for a moment, giving him a teasing smile. “And I’ve seen the clips where you talk about my music.”

Matt’s face went red, and he laughed nervously. “Oh, God. That’s… yeah, that’s me being a total fanboy.”

You tilted your head, still smiling. “I think it’s cute.”

Matt’s heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t believe this was happening. You, the girl he’d admired for so long, thought he was cute? He was supposed to be the one starstruck, not the other way around.

“I’m just—wow, I can’t believe this,” Matt stammered, still trying to regain his composure. “Your show was incredible. Like, even better than I imagined.”

“Thank you,” you said softly. “That means a lot, especially coming from someone whose content I enjoy.”

Matt couldn’t stop smiling. This was beyond anything he’d ever expected. Just being in the same room with you felt surreal, and then you made it even more unbelievable.

“You know,” you began, taking a small piece of paper from your pocket and scribbling something down. “If you’re ever in town again, we should hang out. I’d love to get to know you better.” You handed him the paper, and there it was—your phone number.

Matt stared at the number, speechless, his mind trying to process that you were actually giving him your number.

“Don’t be a stranger,” you said with a wink before the event staff ushered you to your next engagement.

Matt turned to Nick, who was grinning like an idiot. “Told you this night was gonna be crazy.”

Matt barely heard him. All he could think about was the fact that he was holding your number in his hand—and that you wanted to see him again.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69

[be4chywritez]

Juno | max verstappen

max verstappen x singer!reader

request: I have so many short & sweet videos on my fyp right now. I can’t stop thinking about singer!reader announcing her f1 bf by arresting him and dedicating Juno to him like Sabrina does at her concerts. The fans would go wild!!! I’m desperate for this fic

beachy’s masterlist🐚

You quickly run towards your mark, adjusting your hair just as the lights dim. The moment Dumb and Poetic ends, you flash a smile, perfectly timed with the spotlight snapping back on.

“That was probably one of the saddest songs I’ve ever written,” you spoke into the mic, slowly pacing the stage. Your eyes sweep the crowd, and then they land on him. Max. He’s standing there with his pink VIP pass, wearing that blue shirt you love on him—the one you practically begged him to wear.When his gaze meets yours, he sends a shy wave, and you can’t help the giddy smile that pulls at your lips.

“Anyways,” you drawl, tearing your gaze from him and turning towards the other side of the stage. “I just want to thank you all for coming tonight!” The crowd roars in response, and you revel in the energy for a moment before heading back to where Max is standing, your steps slower, more deliberate now.

You stop right in front of his section, heart thumping with a spontaneous idea. The kind of idea that makes your pulse race in the best way.

“Oh my god, girls, come quick!” you exclaim, beckoning toward your backup dancers, “I just saw my future husband, and I need you guys!”

The crowd screams, excitement rippling through them as they try to figure out who you’re talking about. Jaz and Nat, your backup dancers, strut over to you, Jaz already twirling the pink fuzzy handcuffs in her hand, playing right along.

You dramatically point at Max, your grin widening as you watch the tips of his ears turn red. “Look at him right there!” you say, throwing a glance over your shoulder at Jaz and Nat, who are doing their best to hide their shocked—and entertained—expressions.

“Oh my God,” you breathe out, fanning yourself as the crowd’s cheers grow louder. Max’s cheeks are flushed now, and you drink in the sight, loving how flustered he is under the attention.

“Sir, you are under arrest for being too hot,” you say, biting your lip and giggling as the red and blue lights flash across the stage. The audience goes wild.

You lean forward a little, locking eyes with Max again. “What’s your name?” you ask playfully, knowing full well who he is. The big screen switches to the crowd, scanning for your chosen “arrestee,” building up the suspense.

Max cups his hands around his mouth, yelling back at you, “Max!”

“Max!” you shout back, playing it up, your excitement making the crowd scream even louder. The camera zooms in on his face, and the arena erupts in cheers and claps as the fans finally catch on to who exactly you’re teasing.

“Max what?” you ask, pointing the mic in his direction. He rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips, before shouting, “Verstappen!”

You laugh, a little giddy yourself, before dramatically exclaiming, “Y/n Verstappen!” You hold your hand up, examining your ring finger as if imagining the wedding band already there. The fans are beside themselves, giggling along with you.

“I like that name,” you say to Jaz and Nat, who are laughing along with the bit. “I’m thinking so many dirty things right now. The polo, the hair, the eyes, the nose—oh!” With a dramatic gasp, you pretend to fumble with your outfit as your tear-away maxi skirt drops to the floor. “Oh my gosh, how embarrassing! My clothes are falling off for you, Max!”

Jaz hands you the pink fuzzy handcuffs, and you saunter toward the edge of the stage, crouching down to hand them to a security guard, who passes them to Max. “These are for you, Maxie baby,” you say in your most sultry voice, earning even louder screams from the crowd.

You stand back up, flipping your hair back over your shoulder. “Monaco, help me sing this song for my Max baby!” you scream into the mic, the intro to Juno beginning to play in your ears, and the crowd’s energy is at an all-time high as you prepare to serenade him.

As Juno reaches the pre-chorus, you lock eyes with Max again, the playful smirk never leaving your lips. You saunter across the stage, your body moving in sync with the sultry beat, feeling the heat of his gaze on you.

"You make me wanna make you fall in love..." you sing, dragging out the words as the crowd sings along, but you only have eyes for Max now.

Your lips curl into a wicked grin as you hit the next line, "Wanna try out some freaky positions?" You hold the mic in one hand while sliding into a teasing pose, exaggerating every movement, making sure Max doesn't miss a thing. 

His eyes widen, and though he tries to keep it cool, you can see the flush creeping up his neck. The crowd screams, but it's just background noise now.

When you hit, "Have you ever tried this one?" you drop into an unmistakably suggestive pose, making sure to hold eye contact with Max, biting your lip playfully.

The way his mouth twitches, like he's fighting back a smile—or something more— just fuels you further.

The crowd is eating it up, but all you care about is his reaction. You wink at him, standing up slowly, as the song continues, your voice dripping with flirtation as you finish the verse.

The lights begin to dim as the final chords of Juno play out, and you blow Max a final kiss before stepping off the platform. You can feel his eyes still on you, even as the roar of the crowd fades behind you.

“Monaco there is a lot more where that came from!” you tease going on to your next song.

Backstage, the energy is electric, but all you can think about is getting back to Max. You spot him the moment you step off the stage, standing in the shadows near your dressing room, waiting for you. The second your eyes meet, the playful, teasing vibe of the performance is gone, replaced by something hotter, heavier.

"You were something else out there," Max says, his voice low, but you can hear the smile in it.

"Oh, you liked that, huh?" you tease, stepping closer to him, still on the high from the show. "You looked a little flustered out there, Maxie."

He rolls his eyes, but there's a blush coloring his cheeks as he tugs you toward him. "I think you enjoyed teasing me a little too much."

"I can't help it. You make it so easy." Your voice drops to a whisper as you slide your hands up his chest, your body still buzzing with energy. "Besides, I think you liked it."

Max smirks, his hands settling on your hips as he pulls you even closer. "Maybe," he says, his voice low and teasing. "But you owe me for putting me through that."

You grin, wrapping your arms around his neck.

 "Oh, I plan to make it up to you," you whisper, leaning in close.  

"Starting now." And with that, you close the distance, the playful tension from the stage melting into something more intimate as your lips meet his.

[allwaswell16]

I'd like to share a little story about my son that's just a small part of what it's all meant to me.

I joined the fandom in 2014, a year after my youngest son was born. He didn't speak at the time he was "supposed" to be speaking, wasn't hitting all his developmental milestones, and was then diagnosed at a very young age as being on the autism spectrum.

Being a One Direction fan brought music back into my home in a major way. I'd been so busy with my career and becoming a mom that my love for music had been phased out in my life. But One Direction brought it roaring back in.

When my son was two, he was watching the Best Song Ever video...one of his favorites. It's fun and brightly colored and silly, and it made sense why he loved it. He started pointing to each one of the boys and said some of his first ever words, their names.

Youie. Ni-yaw. Hay-ee. Yum-Yum. Zack. (Sorry Zayn, blame the video)

Music opened up a way for my son to communicate. It has always been a major force in his life. He is eleven now, and he plays the drums and the violin and according to his older brother talks way too much.

I could never truly explain what this band has meant to my life and to my son. But I'll always be so grateful they burst into our life right when we needed them.

Thank you, Yum-Yum. I wish I could have told you what you meant to us, but I hope you somehow knew anyway.

[flightrising]

We're a little late to celebrate Dragon Age Day, but we hope "Literally Dragon Age" makes up for it! Instead of the usual FRFanArt Friday, today we want to see your dragon Wardens, Hawkes, Inquisitors, and Rooks! Share them with #FRDragonAge today and you could see your dragon Dragon Age heroes reblogged!

Video description & dragon information below the cut!

[Video Description] 00:00 - 00:04 seconds: We see a trio of dragons walking through ruins on a beautiful day, complemented by sweet bird song. The foremost dragon on the left is an Earth Flight Coatl rogue dressed in brown leathers. In the middle to the right is the Arcane Flight Obelisk mage dragon, dressed in purple robes with a long, flowing braided mane that transitions from pink to orange in an ombre. In the back, center is the Lightning Flight Ridgeback warrior, dressed in blue-green metals and leather.

00:05-00:07 seconds: The birdsong suddenly goes quiet as a large Autosaving… with rotating circle appears over head. The dragons notice the Autosaving mechanic and jump, their eyes going wide at the implications.

00:07-00:11 seconds: The indicator fades as the skies turn pinkish purple with spiraling clouds and a very large shadow of a three headed dragon appears in the center distance. We hear an ominous multi-harmony chorus start singing.

00:12 - 00:16 seconds: Luminax the great undead dragon is revealed as the chorus picks up in intensity. As the chorus fades out, Luminax roars with all three heads and our intrepid trio jump again, their eyes growing even wider at the sight.

00:17-00:19 seconds: A powerful orchestra with percussion drums in as our Mage, Rogue, and Warrior Rooks ready for battle, determined and surrounded by powerful elemental auras, before the video fades.

[Dragon Information] Rogue

Genes: Coatl, Earth Flight, Ribbon & Eel Camo/Umber Contour

Apparel: Tanned Rogue Set, Primal Claws, Bandolier, Saucer Stare, Intense Attention, Power Up Aura

Mage

Genes: Obelisk, Arcane Flight, Orchid Chorus/Choir/Glimmer

Apparel: Mage's Nightshade Set, Sunrise Unicorn Mane, Winter Staff, Saucer Stare, Intense Attention, Power Up Aura

Warrior

Genes: Ridgeback, Lightning Flight, Copper Petrified/Lode/Scales

Apparel: Aeruginous Scale Set, Lightning Sword, Saucer Stare, Intense Attention, Power Up Aura

(The color of the Power Up Aura was changed to match each dragon's element for the purpose of the short video.)

[amirasainz]

Could you write where baby!sainz is a performer like Beyoncé or Megan Thee Stallion and she just went on tour and one of her songs she gives out a lap dance and one of the younger drivers (Lance/Logan/Zhou/Oscar) is the one getting lap dance and everyone else is jealous

Or since Lando has filmed a couple of videos with the sidemen maybe one of the boys flirt with her or get her in a sidemen Sunday where they’re her butlers for a day/week or they’re doing a 20 vs 1 and the boys are apart of the 20 and they’re wives/gfs are fangirling

Hope those made sense

Sooo, I never saw Megan Thee Stallion's performance. However, I adjusted things, so.....Enjoy!!! Let me know if you have any whishes!

-XoXo

No Part 2!!!

She's dancing like a stripper

Oscar couldn't believe it. Bright lights blinded him, the screams of the thousands of fans making his ears ring. The metal chair he was sitting on was vibrating from the guitar bass. Everything was starting to become too much, when his vision was filled with an angel. She was starring at him, a playful smile on her lips. Instead of wearing her sparkly dress, she now wore a skimpy outfit. Her high-heels brought her closer to him, her hands landing softly on his shoulders.

"Sidney, are you ready for the final?" Amira asked, turning her upper body towards the screaming crowd. The yelled so loud, that Amira slightly winced from the volume. "Because this was such an requested song, I will now sing "Favourite". But as you all know, this song has a special dance as well. And who could help me better, than our home-boy Oscar?" The crowd went wilde. They all knew that "special dance" was just a sweeter term for lap dance.

When the music picked up, Oscar's hands started sweating. Amira slowly lowered herself on his lap, his veiny hands immediately landing on her tights. When she started rocking herself on his lap, a low groan left his lips. Amira's hands brought his head closer to her breast. Before he could get too lost in his thoughts, Amira went of his lap.

She walked three steps away from him, some pf her backup dancers following her. She fell on her knees, spreading her legs. Two of her backup dancers, Sarah and Cheyenne, touched her body from behind. Sarah was busy touching her upper body, while Cheyenne ran her hands on the inside of her tights. Both of the girls brought their heads closer to the girl. Because their breaths tickled her, she had to laugh slightly.

When the refrain started, she crawled on her hands a bit, giving Oscar the perfect view of her ass. She lied on her upper body, ass in the air, when she turned on her back. Amira arched her back, spreading her legs once again. 'God, she's killing me here' was Oscars only thought. He gripped the armrest tightly when he saw Amira approaching again.

This time she sat down on his lap with her back turned towards his. She brought one of his hands very, very close to her privat parts, while she brought the other one on her neck. Her hand fisted his hair, brining him to her neck. Before he could stop himself, Oscar started kissing her neck. He slowly trailed his lips to her cheeks, moaning quietly in her ear. After a moment he realised that her hip movement spelled the word "coconut". God, this girl was truly something else.

When the song neared his end, Amira turned her face to Oscar, Their lips where close to touching. Before something more could happen, the roar of the crowd interrupted their little moment. Amira got up and smiled at all of the fans. She turned to Oscar, hugging him and whispering her thanks. With a Ferrari red face, Oscar left the stage. He really needed a cold shower now.

Bonus (+)

"No, this is unfair. This is so fucking unfair" muttered Logan, his eyes fixed on the couple on stage. Lando was standing next to him, his mouth agape. How the fuck did his teammate get so lucky? Shouldn't he, as the older one of the two, be the one to receive the lap dance? Charles, George, Alex and Pierre were busy filming the whole thing for their girlfriends, while also enjoying the show. Yuki as well enjoyed the show, while snacking on some crisps. All of them were so intrudged that they let out some noise of complaint when the show ended. After a moment, George stated: "Thank fuck that Carlos is sick today", receiving nods from the others.

[coco-loco-nut]

die first

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max’s wife is an international superstar, who’s anxieties tend to show up in her songs

Inspired by: die first by Nessa Barret

requests open! masterlist prequel

—————————

“What are you writing, Schatje?” Max asks, sliding onto the piano bench beside you.

“I wrote a song based on my vows,” you tell him, writing down the last couple chords, humming a rhythm to yourself.

Max, ever since I met you, I knew you were special. You’re my fire and my safety, you never try to break me, and you promise to always stay. I promise those same things to you. I don’t want to live without you, I never want to learn how to fall asleep without you, I want to be in love with you forever. You are my forever.

“Play it for me?” he asks when you finish, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You nod, gently pressing the keys, mentally noting the kinks to fix before recording tomorrow. “It’s beautiful, the fans are going to love it, I love it,” Max compliments and you grin at him.

“I’m excited to announce the album and tour, and I’m glad we follow F1 around Europe. I get to spend more of summer with you that way,” you lean on his shoulder. You dedicated the album to him, and your third record is set to be the best selling one yet.

You took the unconventional route and took his last name after marrying him this year, despite having two hit albums and international fame. You still publish under your maiden name, but the name change caused a lot of shock.

You became an international superstar with your first release and it’s only grown since. Despite your relationship with Max spanning most of your music career, the both of you are able to spend a relatively low profile life in Monaco. Everything you record in the studio down the street is sent to your Hollywood label and released from there.

The next few months see you doing press for the surprise drop that was your bestselling third album and hyping the tour. Tour rehearsals fell during training time for Max and the both of you were going nonstop.

“I have to go to bed, Schatje, love you,” Max yawns over Facetime, you wish him goodnight as you stretch for your last show in North America. Tomorrow you jet to Europe to pick up that leg of the tour.

By the time you reach London, your tour has officially lined up with F1, which means your personal box near the stage is full of drivers, who likely are being bombarded with autograph requests. You slip into your black, sparkly bodysuit and matching hells; hair, makeup, and nails perfectly done; and grab your matching microphone before heading to your mark under the stage. The roar of the crowd energized you as the intro video plays.

“Come on London, let’s have some fun,” you say into the mic before smoke fills the stage above you and the trap door opens, the platform beneath you rising you up. You launch into your opening act. Half an hour later, after prancing and dancing and singing around the stage you take a pause to introduce the next act. The crowd cheers loudly before you have a chance to speak. You look around, smiling at everyone even if you can’t see them.

“London, thank you, my name is Y/n Verstappen, that’s my show for tonight,” you tease, the crowd silences. “Nah, I’m kidding. I wouldn’t leave you hanging like that, not when you are one of the best crowds I’ve had on tour,” you tell them, giving them a second to cheer.

“Since you have been such a great host, I wanted to share something special about this next song, something not many people know, but not quite yet. Quick shoutout to the F1 drivers here tonight, including my handsome husband, y’all are cool. But not as cool as everyone else here,” you purposely leave them hanging a little, blowing a kiss in the direction of Max.

“Alright, so, this next song is not only the title of my new album, but I also took parts of my vows and wrote them into the song. I hope you like it,” you say and the crowd cheers as the first chords play behind you.

“Thank you, London! Goodnight!” After the concert, you rush backstage and into Max’s open arms.

“You were incredible, Liefje” Max kisses you. Charles jokingly gags behind you.

“Thank you, Maxie,” you whisper, hugging him tight. Your assistant hands you a towel to put around your neck and a bottle of water which you happily take.

“You had a great show,” the other drivers tell you, all complimenting the show and thanking you for the tickets. You thank them for attending and excuse yourself so you could change. Max reminds them of the post-show dinner and club plans and carries you to your dressing room. You collapse on the couch, as Max chuckles at your dramatics.

“I swear the best part of a show is laying down after,” you groan and Max gently takes off your heels causing you to moan in relief.

“Y/n! People are going to think we are doing things in here,” Max laughs, you wave him off, changing into comfy but club appropriate clothes. Max helps you take off your stage makeup, and redoes your hair as you put a little bit of normal makeup on.

“Ready, Maxie?” you ask, grabbing your purse. It is nice knowing that assistants will take everything back to the hotel for you.

“I promise I will always come back home to you, I know my driving style is agressive, but I won’t make you learn how to fall asleep without me,” Max says, his hands holding your face gently.

“I know, but I will always be scared when you are on the track. You can’t promise nothing will happen, but I know you will always try,” you tell him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. You stay in his embrace for a minute until rejoining half of the paddock. I can be in love forever, if I die first…

[youngsadlesbian]

ONLY YOURS

pairing: wanda maximoff x singer!reader

summary: you’re a famous singer who has been in a secret relationship with wanda maximoff for almost a year. as a surprise for your anniversary, you decide to reveal your relationship to the world in the best way possible.

a/n: this just popped into my mind and i put it on paper. not sure how i feel about it, but anyway. hope you like it <3

word count: 2,9k

warnings: pure fluff rainbows and everything

The air was electric as the crowd’s cheers reverberated throughout the massive stadium. You stood backstage, glancing at yourself in the mirror. The glow of the stage lights flickered faintly from behind the curtains, signaling that the time was approaching. But this wasn’t just any concert — this night was different. It wasn’t just another stop on your Latin American tour, it was the one-year anniversary of your relationship with the love of your life, Wanda Maximoff.

As a famous singer, you were used to the spotlight. The world knew your music, your performances, and your persona. But what they didn’t know was the secret you had been keeping for the past year — that you and Wanda were together. Your relationship had been private, kept from the prying eyes of the media and fans. But tonight, all of that was about to change.

Wanda, oblivious to your plan, was seated in the VIP box alongside Natasha, Clint, and Vision. She believed tonight was just another concert, and that afterward, you’d celebrate your anniversary quietly. But you had something much bigger in store.

Backstage, you could hear the band tuning their instruments, preparing for the final set. Your heart raced as you mentally ran through the surprise you had planned. The last song of the night wasn’t just another hit from your album — it was a song you had written just for Wanda. And tonight, the world would know.

“Y/N, it’s almost time,” your manager called, stepping into your dressing room.

You took a deep breath and nodded. “Everything ready?”

“Yep. The video montage is set to play, and the band’s ready for the last song. Wanda still has no idea.”

A nervous smile tugged at your lips. You glanced at the mirror one last time, running a hand through your hair. "Perfect. Let's do this."

As you stepped out onto the stage, the stadium roared to life. The energy of the crowd was infectious as thousands of fans screamed your name. You waved, beaming at the audience, but your eyes immediately sought Wanda in the VIP box. She waved back with a soft smile, completely unaware of what was to come.

The first hour of the concert went as planned, with you performing your biggest hits and interacting with the crowd. But as the final song approached, you signaled the band to quiet down. The stage lights dimmed, casting a soft glow over you as you stepped forward to address the audience.

"Hey, everyone," you began, your voice slightly trembling from nerves. "I want to take a moment to do something different tonight."

The crowd cheered, their excitement palpable. You could see Wanda in the distance, her brows furrowed in confusion as she leaned closer to Natasha.

“This is a really special night for me,” you continued, trying to keep your composure. “There’s someone here tonight who means everything to me. And while I’ve kept that part of my life private, I want to share it with you all now.”

Wanda’s eyes widened in realization as the screen behind you flickered to life. The video montage began playing, showing intimate clips of the two of you. The first video was from your very first date — an awkward yet adorable dinner in a small café, where Wanda had nervously played with her food while you tried to make her laugh. Then came snippets of the quiet mornings spent together, the playful banter, the late-night cuddles, and even a video of you serenading her in your living room.

The crowd gasped and cheered as they realized who the song was about. And then, you began to sing.

I remember the day we met,

In a crowded room, eyes full of secrets yet,

A quiet smile, a stolen glance,

I knew right then, this was my only chance.

You pulled me in without a word,

A love so deep, it’s always heard,

In hidden moments, under secret skies,

You and I, where love never dies.

This heart, it beats only for you,

Every breath, every word, it’s true,

Though the world didn’t know, we stayed out of view,

But now I’m ready to share it with you.

Through days we lived and nights apart,

You’ve always held this fragile heart,

And now I sing, for the world to see,

You’re my everything, my eternity.

This heart, it beats only for you,

Every breath, every word, it’s true,

Though the world didn’t know, we stayed out of view,

But now I’m ready to share it with you.

As you sang, the screen behind you continued to show moments of your life with Wanda. There were clips of the two of you on quiet hikes, cooking dinner together, and even goofing around during late-night movie marathons. You watched Wanda’s reaction as you sang, and her face was a mixture of disbelief and raw emotion. Her hands covered her mouth as tears welled up in her eyes, and even from the stage, you could see her love shining through.

The song ended, and for a moment, there was silence in the stadium. And then, the crowd erupted in cheers. But your focus remained on Wanda. She stood, clapping with tears streaming down her face, looking at you like you were the only person in the world.

After the concert, you rushed backstage, excitement bubbling inside you. You hadn’t been able to speak to Wanda yet, but you knew she’d be waiting. As soon as you stepped into the dressing room, she was there — standing with open arms and teary eyes.

Without a word, you ran to her, pulling her into a tight embrace. Wanda held you close, burying her face in your neck. “I can’t believe you did that,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

You pulled back, brushing a tear from her cheek. “I wanted the world to know. I’m tired of hiding how much I love you.”

Wanda laughed softly through her tears, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You’re unbelievable.”

The rest of the Avengers filtered in, clapping and cheering. Natasha was the first to pull you both into a hug, grinning like a proud sister. “Finally! I was getting tired of pretending I didn’t know.”

Tony, ever the jokester, strolled in with his signature smirk. “So, when’s the wedding? I’ll sponsor it.”

You and Wanda exchanged amused glances, both shaking your heads. “Let’s focus on tonight,” Wanda replied, her hand still tightly holding yours.

Once things had calmed down and you were finally alone with Wanda, the two of you sat down in your dressing room, scrolling through your phones. The internet had exploded with reactions to your surprise reveal. Wanda leaned into your shoulder, giggling as she read out some of the tweets.

“Look at this one,” she said, holding her phone up to show you. “OMG, Wanda Maximoff is off the market, and Y/N is the luckiest human alive. Why am I even surprised they look THAT good together?!”

You chuckled, scrolling through your own timeline. “Here’s one: ‘I’ve been shipping Y/N with literally anyone for years, but NOW my heart is full. THIS is the power couple we needed.’”

Wanda laughed, her head resting on your shoulder. “I love how supportive they all are. I was expecting some backlash.”

“Nah,” you said, kissing the top of her head. “They love you.”

Another tweet caught your eye: ‘Y/N just serenaded Wanda in front of thousands of people and literally declared their love to the whole world. If this isn’t the definition of GOALS, I don’t know what is.’

Wanda snorted. “Goals. We’re officially couple goals now.”

You shrugged playfully. “Hey, they’re not wrong.”

As the night wore on, you and Wanda kept scrolling through the endless flood of tweets, laughing and sharing the funniest ones with each other.

One of your favorites read: “BRB, I’m sobbing over Y/N’s new song. Someone, find me a Wanda Maximoff to serenade me like that.”

The warmth of Wanda's lips met yours as the clock’s quiet chime echoed through the room. You stayed in the embrace, content to savor the moment as the weight of the night slowly began to settle. The reveal, the music, the joy of finally sharing your relationship with the world — it all felt like a dream, one that you were still waking up from.

Wanda, her fingers tracing small circles on your arm, pulled back slightly to look at you. “You know, I never expected you to do something like that.” Her voice was soft, laced with affection.

You smiled, brushing a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. “I wanted to surprise you. I wanted the world to know how much you mean to me.”

She laughed gently, her eyes glimmering with love. “Well, consider me completely surprised. I can’t believe you managed to keep it a secret. You’ve never been good at hiding things from me.”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know, I’ve gotten very good at surprises.”

She gave you a playful nudge, her smile widening. “Mhm, sure you have.”

The sound of your phone buzzing caught your attention. You glanced down to see more notifications flooding in — tweets, messages, and comments, all pouring in from fans around the world reacting to the big reveal. Curiosity piqued, you unlocked your phone and began scrolling through the newest posts.

Wanda peeked over your shoulder, reading some of them with you.

“Here’s a good one,” you said, holding the phone out for her to see. “‘Y/N singing a love song to Wanda on stage is the purest thing I’ve ever seen. I’m crying, they’re so cute together!’”

Wanda giggled, resting her chin on your shoulder. “You made a lot of people cry tonight, you know.”

“I hope it was the good kind of crying.”

“Oh, definitely,” she said, scrolling to find more. “‘The way Y/N looks at Wanda while singing is how I want someone to look at me for the rest of my life. This is the content I signed up for!’”

You laughed, leaning into Wanda’s warmth. “They’re so sweet.”

“Here’s another one: ‘Honestly, Y/N serenading Wanda in front of thousands of people is peak relationship goals. When’s the wedding?’” She paused, giving you a sideways glance. “They’re really fixated on this wedding thing.”

You chuckled, feeling a little heat rise in your cheeks. “Can you blame them?”

Wanda hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose not.”

She tilted her head, a playful smirk creeping onto her lips. “So… any plans for that wedding? I mean, since the world is so curious now.”

Your heart skipped a beat at her teasing tone. “Are you… proposing to me, Maximoff?”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Maybe.”

You grinned, pulling her closer. “Well, maybe I’ll have to surprise you again.”

Wanda laughed, resting her head against yours as you both continued reading through the endless tweets and messages of support. The fans' reactions were overwhelmingly positive — people were ecstatic that you and Wanda had finally gone public. And though you had expected a few negative comments, they were drowned out by the flood of love and excitement.

One tweet in particular caught your eye: “I’ve been a fan of Y/N for years, but seeing how happy they are with Wanda makes me love them even more. Love is love, and these two are proof that soulmates exist.”

You showed the tweet to Wanda, who smiled softly as she read it. “Soulmates, huh?”

You nodded, your heart swelling with emotion. “I think they’re right.”

She met your gaze, her eyes filled with that same deep love you had sung about on stage. “So do I.”

The night stretched on as the two of you basked in the glow of the concert’s success and the warmth of your love. It felt like the world had shifted in a way — a new chapter had begun, one where you no longer had to hide your relationship, where you could be open and free with the person who meant everything to you.

As the early hours of the morning approached, the two of you finally decided to put your phones away and focus on each other. Wanda wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close as you both sank into the comfort of the couch.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible in the quiet room.

“For what?” you asked, brushing your thumb over her knuckles.

“For tonight. For the song. For everything.” She smiled, her eyes reflecting the love she felt. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

You kissed her softly, letting your forehead rest against hers. “I’m the lucky one.”

The two of you stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, letting the peaceful silence speak for you. There were no more words needed. Everything you had wanted to say was already said — through the song, through the surprise, through the moments you shared both on and off the stage.

And as you held Wanda close, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against yours, you knew that this was just the beginning. There would be more concerts, more songs, more surprises, and, most importantly, more moments together. Whatever the future held, you were ready for it — as long as she was by your side.

In the end, it wasn’t the stage lights or the roaring crowd that mattered. It was the quiet moments like these, where the world faded away and it was just the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s love.

“Happy anniversary,” Wanda whispered one last time, her breath warm against your skin.

“Happy anniversary, Wanda.” You smiled, pulling her even closer. “Here’s to many more.”

[uniquexusposts]

Another Love - C. Leclerc

Summary: Y/n and Charles broke up and Y/n preforms a heartbreaking song about their breakup. A/N: I don't know what this piece is supposed to be, but it popped up in my head. Every once in a while, I'm getting back to listening Another Love over and over again. Enjoy reading :) Credits: Tom Odell - Another Love

The lights dimmed as the crowd roared. Y/n took a deep breath as she took place behind the piano on the stage. She took a sip of the ginger tea and adjusted the microphone. 

Y/n L/n, a very respected and loved sing and songwriter, was preforming on one of the biggest festival stages of her career. Over the last seven years, she worked hard for this moment. She could finally say she made it. She should be excited about it, but she was feeling mild about it. Perhaps of her recent breakup. Her ex-boyfriend supported her during her career, like she did with his. And knowing she would about to sing the record breaking song, made her feel anxious. To many people it was a hit, to her it was her grief. 

Her hands rested above the keys and when she pressed them in, the crowd cheered once again. A smile grew on her lips, this moment was so special to her; this was the first time she played her new song live. This was the first time they heard the song. She began to sing, her voice steady, but underneath, a current of emotion ran wild. The words bled from her lips, each line cutting deeper than the last.

I wanna take you somewhere so you know I care... But it’s cold and I don’t know where.

As she sang, images of her ex-boyfriend flickered in her mind; the late nights, the laughter, the silences that grew between them until the distance was too much. He had been her everything. Until he wasn't.

Meanwhile, Charles Leclerc sat on his couch, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone, trying to ignore the heaviness in his chest. It had been months, but somehow, everything reminded him of her. Her smile, her laugh; her absence.

A notification lit up his screen. A video.

Charles clicked on it, and there she was. Y/n. Performing on a massive stage, her voice piercing through the screen.

"Wait..."

He sat up straighter, watching as the performance unfolded. His stomach twisted, the lyrics crashing down on him like waves. It wasn’t just a song. It was their story.

On another love, another love. All my tears have been used up.

His breath hitched. It was all there: everything they'd never said, everything that tore them apart. The late-night arguments, the constant travel, the things they'd tried to fix but couldn’t.

He watched her, radiant and fierce under the stage lights, baring her soul to the world. And the world was eating it up. The video had thousands of comments, the hashtags trending, and every single one of them knew the truth he was now grappling with.

This song was about him.

Charles' hands shook as he tossed his phone to the side, as though putting distance between them would somehow ease the weight pressing down on his chest. But it didn’t. The song was everywhere.

Y/n belted the chorus with everything she had left, her chest tightening as the adrenaline surged higher because she heard the crows sing so loudly, mixing with the ache that had been there for months. The lights flashed, the stage seemed to grow smaller, and for a moment, it was just her and the song; a private confession laid bare for the world to witness.

I wanna sing a song that’d be just ours, but I sang ‘em all to another heart.

It made it more emotional because no one knew the song, she was telling to song, sharing her story. But mostly, talking to Charles. All Y/n could think about was how the love she sang about wasn’t gone. It was still there, buried beneath the layers of hurt and regret. But it was fractured, scattered across the months of distance between them.

By the time she reached the final notes, her breath was ragged, but she pushed through, finishing the song with a rawness that left the crowd momentarily silent before they erupted into thunderous cheers. Y/n’s heart raced, her chest heaving, and she could feel the sweat slicking the back of her neck as the adrenaline surged one last time.

The cheers were deafening, the flashing cameras blinding, but as she stood on stage, soaking it all in, she felt utterly exposed. She had given them everything; her heart, her pain, her love. And now, it was out there, a piece of her forever tied to the song. This song was over, and there were just a few more seconds left before the next song would begin. She smiled at the crowd. Even though it was tough, she was so overwhelmed by the reaction. That was why she loved to preform. 

Charles sat on the floor of his apartment, his phone lying face down beside him. He’d thrown it there after watching the performance loop for the fifth time. He couldn’t escape it. The way she sang, the raw emotion, the way everyone sang it along, the way the lyrics had ripped him apart all over again; it was like the world had caught a glimpse of his soul without his consent.

He raked a hand through his hair, trying to steady his breathing. But the notifications kept lighting up his phone; mentions, comments, articles already popping up about Y/n’s performance. He’d tried to ignore it at first, but as the hours passed, it became clear that the internet had figured it out.

Headlines flooded his screen:

“Y/n L/n’s Heart-Wrenching New Song Sparks Breakup Rumours with F1 driver Charles Leclerc!"

"Y/n Confirms Split with Emotional Performance—Another Love a Nod to Leclerc?"

Charles groaned, standing up and pacing. The media had already been circling them for months, speculating, whispering, but they had kept quiet about the breakup. Now, Y/n’s song had blown the lid off it. There was no hiding anymore.

He picked up his phone and sent a message to Pierre.

"Have you seen this? They're talking like they know everything."

Pierre’s response was quick.

"Mate, it’s everywhere. You alright?"

Charles didn’t reply. He wasn’t alright. He wasn’t sure how to handle it, but one thing was clear; he couldn’t just sit here and let the world spin this narrative. His PR team was already calling, trying to figure out how to manage the situation. But what could he even say?