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roosterforme · 1 month

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Too Much to Lose | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Leaving for deployments had always been rough, but then Bradley met you, and the time apart and risk involved made the ache even stronger. But nothing felt quite as isolating and scary as acknowledging that he had to leave his pregnant wife with an uncertain future. Now more than ever, he had too much to lose.

Warnings: Angst, panic attack, mentions of smut, pregnancy topics

Length: 2300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley hated that he felt like he was going through the motions. You'd been clinging to him all day long, your eyes always on the verge of tears. His bags were packed, his flight would leave tomorrow morning, and there was nothing left for him to do at this point except wait. Wait for your tears to spill over. Wait for one last look at you for who knows how long. Wait for the official start of another deployment.

Getting hard for you was not the problem. Your lips were on his body, and his name was the only word you seemed capable of saying. Nothing ever felt as good as your touch, and you always smelled sweet. Best of all, you were carrying his baby. But the doubt still crept in, even as his body rocked against yours, even as he filled you up. Because for Bradley, this felt exactly like those months when you and he had been desperately trying to get pregnant. It felt like the two of you were focusing on an uncertain outcome instead of each other.

"I love you, Roo."

You had just uttered the most perfect words in your state of bliss, but he couldn't fully accept them. Why did you love him? How the fuck could you? Your hands came up to caress his face, and he was completely helpless to do a god damn fucking thing besides come for you.

"Oh god," he grunted, practically crying as you kissed his scars before gradually going limp beneath him. You were smiling as you rolled onto your side, but instead of joining you for one last cuddle, he made his excuses to retreat to the bathroom.

Bradley splashed some cool water on his face and examined himself in the mirror. All he saw was someone who didn't know what he was doing. Someone who wasn't good enough for you. He hadn't felt this way a few days ago, rather he'd been absorbed with shopping for the baby. But the fear started to creep in around the edges today, and now it felt like it could strangle him if he let it.

Leaving home in this state could only spell disaster, but he couldn't shake it. At least when he finally managed to walk back into the bedroom, you were asleep on his pillow with one leg under the blanket and one on top. You could always make him smile, but this time when he did, he thought about what would happen next if he didn't come back. What would happen if he was no longer here to claim that pillow as his own.

He checked his will a few days ago, and the thing was ironclad. It all went to you. Every last penny and possession. But that wasn't what had him rattled. Everything was ten times more exciting and also ten times scarier with the baby on the way. He had too much to lose.

He kissed your forehead and then your belly, and he pulled the blanket over both of your legs, and then he went out to the living room with Tramp at his heels. The house still smelled delicious; you'd made him Marry Me Rooster and lemon cupcakes for dinner. You always pulled out the stops when he was leaving, and he loved you for it. But what the fuck were you getting in return?

He grabbed his phone from where he'd left it on the kitchen counter. You and he had been sharing a plate of dinner while he started to consider what your life would be like without him. You'd have the baby here with you, but you'd really be alone. It was too hard to breathe while he thought about it, so he unlocked his phone and dialed the only person who wouldn't think he'd gone completely off the deep end with his request.

"Bradshaw. Shouldn't you be enjoying your wife before you fly off into the sunset?"

"Hangman," he rasped, walking to the couch and collapsing down onto it. "I need to talk to you."

There was a brief pause before Jake said, "I'm all ears."

Bradley cleared his throat, feeling like an absolute idiot as he said, "I bought a jungle gym playset for my backyard. A really big one. For the baby."

Jake hummed and said, "Right." And somehow that was enough to make Bradley keep going.

"It's on pallets. On my driveway. There's an instruction book on top of my refrigerator. Everything should be here."

"Okay," Jake said quietly.

Bradley swallowed and swallowed, his throat burning as he managed to force out the rest of the words. "If anything happens to me, I need you to... build it."

The only thing he could hear was Jake's soft breathing before he muttered, "Shit."

Bradley ran his palm back and forth over his face as tears streaked down his cheeks. "Hangman. I need you to promise. I need that fucking thing in the yard."

"Yeah," Jake grunted. "Yeah, I promise."

Bradley sucked in a deep breath before he added, "And I need you to promise to take care of her. Take care of them. Make sure she knows you're around if they need something. Make sure she knows she can go to you and Cat for help."

There was no way to tell if the barely controlled sobs were his own or Jake's as he held the phone tighter to his ear, waiting for an answer. "Yeah, Rooster. I'll take care of Angel. I promise."

Bradley managed to choke out two words before ending the call. "Thank you." His phone fell from his hand onto the floor, and he curled up on his side. He thought about his dad. Goose died during a training exercise. If the most basic parts of Bradley's job could become deadly, he was honestly tempting fate at this point. Was this still the right thing to do? With a baby on the way? He wasn't so sure anymore.

Both of his parents were gone before he was an adult. If he made it just a few more years, he would live to be older than either of them had. This wasn't the first time he'd thought about that number, but right now, he was having a hard time catching his breath.

Forty. Carole died when she was forty years old.

Thirty-seven. Bradley was just three years away.

"Fuck," he gasped as he rolled onto his back, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. He was nauseous and dizzy, and his chest was aching like there was something pressing down on him. Something heavy. He shouldn't leave you alone now, because he might never come back. He might never get to meet the Nugget who he was already so in love with. The baby might never have a dad at all, but at least Bradley got to have one of those for a short time. He could remember little bits of how it felt when Nick Bradshaw picked him up, and the soft laughter in his voice when he read a bedtime story. But the Nugget deserved more than that. This baby deserved everything, including a dad who was already so devoted that it hurt. A perfect mom and a loving dad, just like Bradley had once upon a time.

He could feel Tramp licking his elbow and whimpering, but he couldn't open his eyes. He couldn't move at all. He needed to catch his breath. He started counting in his head but couldn't keep track of how far he'd gotten. He wanted to meet his kid. He needed to.

"Bradley?"

Your voice was the most perfect sound in the world, and when you spoke his name, he had a visceral reaction to it. Then your hand was on his cheek, and the heavy feeling lifted away a little bit.

"Oh, Bradley."

You replaced your hand with your lips, and he could feel how warm you were as your body came to rest on his. Your voice and touch invaded him in place of that terrifying weight on his chest. He felt safer because it was you. And the baby, too. When he opened his eyes, you looked concerned, and he hated to be the cause of that.

His voice didn't sound like his own, but you looked relieved as he said, "Sweetheart."

All he could focus on was the steady stroking of your fingers through his hair and your lips on his. "Tell me what's wrong, Roo," you whispered between soft kisses. "Talk to me."

He wasn't sure how long it took or how you managed to do it, but he ended up sitting on the couch with you curled up in his lap, ready to talk. Your cheek was resting against his heart, and his hand was under his old gym shirt that you were wearing, pressed to your belly. He wanted to tell you everything he was thinking. He wanted you to understand. But all he could say was, "I'm scared."

You nodded and hummed softly. "Me too."

When he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in tighter, he asked, "Then why do I keep doing this? The last thing I'd ever want to do is scare you."

Your fingers found their way back up into his hair. "It's scarier this time, because of the baby," you whispered. "But you're an amazing pilot, and you love flying, and that's important, too."

"Not as important as you," he swore immediately. "Never as important as the Nugget. I just don't know if the risk is worth it anymore." He swallowed hard but let the tears slide down his cheeks again. "What if I burn in or get shot down before the baby is even born? Then what? Because I had no fucking clue until pretty recently how badly I want to be a dad."

"Come here," you whispered, your arms winding around his neck as you straddled his hips. You didn't seem alarmed by this conversation as you ran the tip of your nose back and forth along his cheek, letting him get used to feeling calm again. "It's all risky, Roo. All of it. We've talked about it before, and the facts are never going to change. But being married to you is worth it. Having to figure out how to potentially live without you is a risk I'm willing to take for the chance to be with you now."

"Fuck," he whispered, melting into your touch.

"You're worth everything," you told him sincerely. "Getting to hold you right now is worth every bad feeling that might come later."

All he could do was nod, because he felt exactly the same way about you. But there was another layer. Another wrinkle. It was with a steadier voice that he managed to say, "I don't want to end up like my parents. Or worse... I don't want to miss the chance to meet the baby altogether."

You leaned away from him a little bit, running your knuckles gently along his cheek. "You promised me you would always fight for the chance to come home again."

"Always. Please, don't ever doubt that I will fight until my last breath, Baby Girl."

Now you had tears in your eyes. "I never knew I could feel this loved. And you've already given the Nugget so much of yourself through your notebooks and your little private conversations with my belly where you pretend I can't hear you." Bradley laughed as you touched his face and neck. You kissed his forehead and whispered, "He or she is going to be just like you. I can tell already. And you'll fight your way back home to find out for sure."

"I will," he promised, throat tight with love instead of fear this time. "God, I fucking adore you."

As he ran his thumb around the diamond in your engagement ring which once belonged to his mother, you said, "I know it."

Twenty minutes later, once Bradley felt almost completely calm again, you stood and disappeared into the kitchen. He missed your warmth immediately. It was late now, and he knew you both needed to get a good night of sleep, but you insisted you knew what else would make him feel better. Just when he was about to say that the only thing he wanted to do was hold you in bed, you returned with a plate and a steaming mug.

You settled onto his lap again, so certain that was where you belonged and where he always wanted you. He took a sip of the tea while you nibbled on the lemon cupcake, then you held it up to his lips for him to take a bite. He ate half of it in one go, making you smile.

When you took another nibble, he whispered, "I'll be home in no time. Back with my perfect wife. My family."

You gently shoved the rest of the cupcake into his mouth as you smiled and said, "We'll be here waiting for you."

You started kissing his scars as he chewed and muttered, "Let's go to bed, Sweetheart."

He was still thinking about his brief conversation with Jake as you stretched out on your back and let him run one big hand along your belly and down to your tattoo. Bradley touched you everywhere, memorizing the softness and flawless warmth of your body with the Nugget. He would come back home to this because he had to. He would be here to construct the jungle gym himself. There was simply no other choice.

"I love you both."

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That phone call between Bradley and Jake made me cry. Bradley has been dreaming of that jungle gym playset in the backyard for so long, he needs the guarantee that it will happen for his Nugget even if he's not there to see it through to the end. BG always knows what to do when he's struggling, but she's not going to be there to take care of him while he's deployed. In the next one-shot, we'll see how Bradley and Payback are holding up while away. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who reads and interacts and makes this pairing so fun to write!

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birbbones · 1 month

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So I'm not the one to ask for help so I've been very hesitant on sharing, but got some news last week that I will be homeless by June (and no, this is not an awful april fools joke, I am panicking here).

Some of you in the vulture culture community know last week and a bit ago I had an accident resulting in losing consciousness, breaking my neck, and experiencing a seizure for the first time. I've been having ongoing brain issues (we removed a lot of cerebral fluid in December that was causing increased pressure and testing the fluid to rule out infection, diagnosed with IIH), and last month I've been having heart issues.

Referrals have been made to a cardiology specialist, as well as the first fit clinic. But it's looking like I will probably have to go private to get listened to / get the care I need ASAP. Couple with the fact I will be homeless by June, it's a really terrifying situation. I have contacted local councils, independent living schemes, shelter, private landlords etc and feel like I've been let down. I'm awaiting a doctors appointment with a NHS advisor on the 10th, where I'll be showing them my list of resources I've used, and to see if they are able to help find anything.

I reluctantly made a justgiving page, on the advice of my friends, and while I hate asking for help, I am honestly quite scared and uncertain about my future.

If anyone can share the link, reblog this post, or even donate some change. It would mean a lot.

Thank you for your time, I'm sorry for posting this here but I don't know what else to do. I will be continuing to work on the skull index, as its such big passion project of mine along with the help of my team. Its a great distraction.

#vulture culture #justgiving #birb rambles #signal boost #please boost

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city-m0rgue · 3 months

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i absolutely hate how Cherri Bomb was written in the new episode

i was really excited to see her in the episode but the way she peer pressured angel just made me really dislike her character

she says that angel has been “texting her his depressing shit all day,” so she knows what he’s going through, and when he says he’s too tired for a night out she doesn’t listen

when husk steps in when cherri offers angel drugs, cherri responds by calling him a “Buzzkill” and making fun of him being an alcoholic. husk was simply looking out for angel and if cherri truly cared about angels well-being she would understand that.

even after cherri puts husk down, angel still shows that he is uncertain about getting high with her. he once again tells her he’s exhausted from work to which she responds without empathy and just trying to keep getting him to get high until he finally agrees.

when angel is looking after niffty, cherri says “you’re supposed to be relaxing, not playing nanny!” and angel says “i just don’t want her to end up in the gutter like i used to!” and cherri belittles what he says by saying “whatever nerd.”

i was so excited to see cherri in this episode but she turned out to be a terrible friend to angel

edit: i just wanna say i think the way angel looked after niffty was adorable and i loved angel and husk being nifftys dads

edit: so my opinion on this had kind of changed. i do still think there should’ve been scenes where we saw her empathy more but now having seen later episodes i can say i am more fond of her character. she definitely needs some development (but so does everyone else), and i can’t say she’s my favourite, but my opinion has partially changed.

i think i was more so disappointed in the lack of emotion she showed. she’s addicted just like angel and is not as far in recovery as he is. and YES i have seen the addict music video and that is the main reason i am disappointed, because we see a lot more insight to her character in there.

i hope we get more emotional and/or empathetic scenes with cherri in the future and i really hope than if/when she joins the hotel her development will be healthy for both her and angel

#angel dust #hazbin hotel #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #cherri bomb #cherri bomb hazbin hotel #vivziepop #vivzieverse #blake roman #huskerdust #hazbin hotel husk

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dilemmaontwolegs · 4 months

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Irresistible {4} || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: It’s your first race weekend and having to share Charles had never been so hard. It’s a good thing another driver tries to keep you company. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, cheating, kind of taboo (future stepbrother) WC: 3.5 F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four

“Who are you and what have you done with my Charles?”

“I’m still your Charles, ma biche,” he chuckled as he closed the door behind him and pulled his facemask off. A tired smile played at his lips as the first day of practices came to an end.

You rolled your eyes and closed the distance between you, toying with the red sleeves of his race suit knotted at his waist. “That’s not who was out there,” you argued softly, teasing a barely-there kiss along his jawline. “They called you Il Predestinato.” You circled around him and kissed his shoulder, feeling the heat radiating off of his body and onto your lips before you rose in your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Are you my predestined too?”

He turned and pressed his body along yours, caging you against the door he had entered. A smirk grew on those tempting lips and your stomach tightened at the look in his eyes. “I’m everything you need me to be.”

A knock pounded into your back and you closed your eyes as the stolen moment was taken away once more. Since arriving in Austria things had changed, subtle shifts that left you uncertain of what you were to him. You were constantly trying to reconcile the Charles out there and the Charles in here. Moving aside, you watched silently as he pulled his face mask back into place, hiding his pout in an instant,

“I’ll see you tonight,” he promised before turning the handle and slipping out of the room. He had a key to your suite and had used it in the dead of the night, sneaking across the hall from the suite he shared with Charlotte. You had never felt so alone.

You waited for Charlotte’s voice to fade away before leaving Charles’ private room and following the signs to the exit and out into the open air. The mask on your face was suffocating but it did give you some anonymity as you walked around the paddock in search of the car park. You should have asked for a map when you arrived because now you were forced to ask for directions.

“Hey,” you greeted a stranger that you thought was one of the drivers Charles had mentioned. He was in the same kind of race suit that Charles wore, but his was dark blue and he didn’t look too pleased to have been interrupted.

“Alright,” he sighed as he draped an arm over your shoulder, “take the photo. I’m already late.”

“Photo?” You shrugged his arm off and stepped away. “I don’t even know who you are.”

The man’s blue eyes narrowed in doubt before he scoffed. “Sure. Okay. Then how can I help you?”

You narrowed your eyes back and mirrored his stance with your hands on your hips. “Don’t bother. I don’t want your help now.”

You turned and picked a random direction to search and marched off before quick steps followed. A hand grabbed your arm and you turned to face the dirty blond man who now looked apologetic.

“It’s been a long day,” he said in what you assumed was the closest the man came to saying sorry. “I’m Max.”

You looked at Max’s hand and left it hovering between you as you crossed your arms. “You’re the one that Charles has been racing since you were kids?”

He dropped his hand and shrugged. “There’s a few of us, but yeah.”

“I’m Y/N.”

Recognition lit his icy eyes and his eyebrows lifted as he scanned you once over. “Charles’ step sister, right?”

You hated that term, the constant reminder of why you could never have what you wanted most. “Technically our parents aren’t married yet.”

Max shrugged, obviously not caring about the technicalities like you did. “So if you didn’t want a photo, or an autograph, what did you need help with?”

You looked down at your feet sheepishly and kicked at the loose stones. “Finding a way out of this maze.”

“Ah,” he chuckled. “It feels like that sometimes, but you’ll get used to it - most of the paddocks have the same layout. I’m leaving now too so you can walk with me.”

The car park was far emptier than when you arrived and you easily found the pristine white Ferrari that had been ready for you outside the hotel. Charles and Charlotte were driving an identical one, the two seater sports car limiting the ability to carpool.

“You should probably have my number,” Max said as you reached the car and he opened the driver's door for you. “In case you get lost again.”

You bit your bottom lip as you thought about the consequences of exchanging numbers. Maybe this man didn’t get your heart racing with a single glance, but his eyes smiled when he did and he was quite funny as you found out along the walk.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you admitted as your phone vibrated and you saw a message from Charles.

Seeming to sense it, Max chuckled and stepped back. “Because of your big brother?”

Your nose wrinkled in distaste and your lip curled with it. “Charles is not my brother.”

“Of course,” he said with a dip of his head. “You are not related at all.”

“Exactly.” Your words were too strong and you realised he had noticed it, so you did what you thought you needed to do and distracted him. “I guess it won’t hurt having your number if I get lost.”

Max’s eyes wrinkled with the smile beneath the mask and slipped his phone out of his pocket, trading it with yours to enter your numbers in. “It’s a matter of safety now, especially since Charles left you here alone.”

Ouch, that hurt your heart but he wasn’t lying. The Charles that the public saw was so vastly different from the man you had fallen for in the privacy of home. Everything was structured and curated for show, his eyes barely glancing your way when there were cameras in the room. He was on display, and so was Charlotte - they just lapped the attention.

Maybe they were perfect for each other.

“Do you want to go to dinner?” Max asked, leaning in closer as his voice dropped. “Or are you planning to eat with Charles and Charlotte?”

This man knew your weakness no matter how coy he acted but the only question you had was ‘why’. “Is this some ploy to undermine your biggest rival?”

“My biggest rival is Lewis,” he corrected before he stepped back to check his phone, seeing that time passed too quickly when he was with you. “You are beautiful and I have enjoyed your company. Is that reason enough?”

You could feel your phone vibrating again but ignored it as you gave him your hotel name. “Pick me up at 8.”

You slipped into the leather seat before you could change your mind and Max closed the door, a smile warming his voice. “I’ll see you then.”

It wasn’t a date, at least that’s what you told yourself. There was laughter and an openness between you and Max, but he wasn’t Charles and he would never be Charles. He couldn’t make you tremble with a delicate kiss, or make your heart skip a beat when your eyes connected.

With lockdown and no reservation, dinner was a bust - even for a famous F1 driver. But the night didn’t end with one set back. Instead you had gone to a supermarket and Max grabbed cheese and crackers, fruit pastes and little cakes, and strawberries with chocolate. You had found yourself back at the Red Bull Ring, high up in the empty stands with a paper bag full of the snacks balanced on your lap.

“What was it like before covid?” you asked as you looked out over the track. Workers still toiled about making sure everything was ready for tomorrow but most people had left a while ago.

“Busier.”

You snorted a laugh. “Wow, never would have guessed that.”

Max laughed and leaned back in his seat, popping a chocolate strawberry in his mouth to chew while he contemplated. “It was livelier, even the teams have scaled back who travels with us. There’s hardly anyone in the factories. It’s like watching one of those zombie apocalypse movies.”

He actually sounded happy and you turned to see a small smile on his lips. “You’re weird,” you said with a laugh. “Most people wouldn’t be happy in a zombie apocalypse.”

He rolled his icy blue eyes and nudged you with his shoulder. “You’re weird.”

“And you have the comeback of a five year old.”

“Hey, I worked hard to come up with that,” he joked, making you laugh even more, the sound drifting out over the evening air. “I like that it’s quieter, there’s less media duties, less theatrics. We get here, we race, then we leave.”

“Ah, you’re antisocial!”

“I like socialising,” he said with a pointed look between you. “I just don’t give a shit about the ‘famous’ part we are meant to play. I’m a racer not an actor. There’s some that enjoy the spotlight though.”

You felt the dig at Charles but you swallowed down a response with a cracker slathered in sweet quince paste. After seeing him change the second he stepped out of the private plane with Charlotte on his arm there was no way to defend him.

“I guess you’re right,” you admitted. “So if you’re not antisocial, what do you like doing other than racing?”

The sun set as conversation flowed but eventually you had to concede that it was time to leave the grandstand. This time when he walked you to the carpark you smiled as he opened the passenger door to his Aston Martin.

“Are you going to tell Charles about our date?”

“Is that what this was?” Your smile negated the baiting words and his lips curled up in a smirk and he reached across the gearbox to hold your hand.

“I think it was something I want to do again.”

“No,” you murmured as you looked out at the passing scenery, but your hand stayed in his. “I wasn’t planning on telling him.”

“You should know, nothing stays secret in F1 for long. With the cameras and the fans…the truth always comes out.”

The inside of your cheek hurt as you chewed on it nervously. You couldn’t tell if he was talking about him and the not-a-date date or you and Charles. “Thanks, Max. I’ll keep that in mind.”

You hadn’t been able to sleep after Max had dropped you off at the hotel, and it seemed Charles hadn’t either. His green eyes were as wild as his untamed hair and he paced the living room of your suite. When the keycard beeped for his entry at 2am he had found you sitting on the couch, watching infomercials fill the room with white noise as you awaited his arrival.

A photo had already been posted from the track.

It was innocent enough. Max had noticed your skin prickle with goosebumps as the sun descended and draped his jacket over your shoulders so the date could keep going. It looked more intimate than it was.

“I left you alone for two minutes and you’re out on a date with Max Verstappen!”

You wanted to tell him it wasn’t a date but the instant attack had a fire scorching in your belly and all the resentment that had been building since Charlotte interrupted your paradise exploded.

“Exactly! You left me alone,” you shouted back, rising to your feet and stalking your way across the floor to him. Your forefinger screamed in protest as you poked his hard chest. “You left me. For her.”

Instant regret filled his eyes and his hands reached for you. “That’s not fair.”

“None of this is fair, Charles,” you sighed as you opened the door, sending him a clear message as he saw his room number on the other side of the hall. “But it is what it is.”

“You want me to leave?”

“No, but I think it is best if you do.”

Charles grabbed the door and tugged it from your grasp, slamming it closed without a care for who would wake along the hotel corridor. “I’m not going until you want me to go,” he promised as he cupped your face and crashed his lips against yours. “I’m not going until you tell me you don’t love me.”

You knew your tongue was too heavy to ever voice those words and your lips too swollen from his kiss. He knew it, and he knew it well as he led you to the bedroom. “Tell me to go,” he dared as he gripped your hips and pulled you flush against his body. “Tell me.”

“I can’t!” you growled, biting his bottom lip enough to draw a ragged gasp from him. You pushed him back as you reached the bed and he let himself fall upon the luxurious Egyptian cotton sheets. His eyes darkened and he ran a thumb over his tender lip while he watched you climb his body. “I want to, but I can’t. You’re mine, Charles. Il mio Predestinato.”

There was nothing gentle in the union of your bodies, it was merely a release of the tension and a distraction from what was to come when he returned to his room. You would never tell him how cold it was when he left your bed, how you clung to the pillow that held the scent of his shampoo, or how you cried until the sun broke the horizon. It was your burden to bear, and keeping it to yourself was proof of how much you loved him. You were saving him from the guilt he would feel with your pain.

The reflection in the mirror was unrecognisable and you were happy when the steam of the shower erased the image in a cloud of condensation. Charles had messaged to say he was heading to the track but you hadn’t been able to reply because you weren’t sure if you were going to follow or not.

A frown formed when a knock sounded at your door and you checked your phone to see if he had messaged again. Maybe he knew your reservations and had come to pick you up. Hope filled you but it was quickly dashed when you opened the door and it wasn’t Charles waiting for you.

“Ouch,” Max said with a shake of his head. “Not who you were expecting?”

You tried to remove the disappointment that had fallen over your face and gave him an apologetic smile. “Not exactly. What are you doing here?”

“I thought I might save you from getting lost. Did you want a ride to the track?”

You looked down at the robe you were still wearing after the long shower in which you had contemplated all your life choices that led you to standing under the stream to hide your tears. “I’m not sure I want to go.”

Max looked down the hall before stepping inside and closing the door. “Because of Charles?”

“Not everything in my life revolves around Charles,” you huffed with a roll of your eyes.

“So what’s wrong then?” He chuckled after a moment of silence and nodded to himself. “You should come with me.”

“Why?”

Max shrugged innocently. “Well, I like spending time with you and you are obviously lonely too.”

Something, not a flutter or a spark, but something piqued your interest and your eyes lifted from the carpet. “You’re lonely?”

“I told you I’m not antisocial,” he laughed. “I miss having people around that don't want to talk about my job.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Why would anyone want to talk about your work? It’s the most boring sport I have ever seen.”

“See,” he smirked. “You’re the perfect fit.”

You felt a little lighter as you made the decision to join him. “Just for today,” you said with a pointed finger. “And if it’s boring then I’m leaving.”

Self assured cockiness that seemed a fundamental characteristic of all drivers settled on his features. “Deal. Now go get dressed, schat.”

Your nose wrinkled. “What did you call me?”

“Nothing bad.” His smile grew at your doubtful look and he nodded his head to the bedroom. “We should get going.”

You quickly changed but each layer of cloth made your stomach turn and you tried to take a calming breath before stepping out of the room. Charles had been more angry at the fact it was Max you had been photographed with than anything, so you knew he wasn’t going to be happy when you arrived with him. For a moment you were torn between hoping he didn’t find out and hoping he did.

Guilt smacked the smile off your face.

“I’m actually not feeling very well,” you muttered as you joined him, an uncomfortable weight sitting on your chest. “I don’t think I can go with you today.”

Max looked disappointed but nodded in acceptance and reached for the door. “You do look tired, schat. You should get some sleep.”

The weight lifted with the click of the door closing and you soon found yourself back beneath the blankets that still smelt of Charles.

You woke to soft kisses on your shoulder and the tickle of stubble in your neck.

“Ma biche,” he whispered across your cheek.

“What time is it?” You wondered if you had slept all day but given how bright it was outside, Charles couldn't have finished his work for the evening.

“1.30,” he answered as he snaked an arm over your waist and curled his body behind yours. “Qualifying is in two hours.”

He relinquished his tight embrace to let you roll over and face him, seeing his eyes close with a tired sigh. “What are you doing here? Where’s Charlotte?”

“Shh, I don’t want to think about her right now,” he hushed softly and he stroked your cheek with his fingertips. “I wish we could just go home. I miss the days we spent like this.”

You sighed longingly and leaned into his touch. “It feels like a lifetime ago.”

He smiled sadly and kissed you sweetly as he drew your leg over his hip. “Please come with me. I need you by my side, Bambi, cheering for me.”

Your fingers danced down his sponsored shirt, tracing the brands that aided his team before you reached his belt. His tongue peeked out between his lips and wet them as you unclasped the buckle and dared him. “Make me.”

Charles acted as if he didn’t have anywhere important to be, like qualifying. He took his time as if he hadn’t felt your body beneath him in years. You felt his kiss on every inch of your skin and your head spun after falling drunk on the high he gave you.

“Please come with me,” he begged as the weight of his spent body collapsed upon you, better than any comfort blanket could.

“I suppose you made a decent effort to persuade me,” you teased as you brushed his damp hair back from his forehead.

“Decent,” he echoed with a laugh, both of you moaning at the sensation it had with him still inside you. The feeling subsided as he withdrew and saw the time, a seriousness falling upon him. “We should shower and go, ma biche.”

“Tell me it’s going to get easier,” you whispered before he could pull away completely.

“It’s going to get easier,” he swore. “I will make it easier for you, my love.”

And he did.

After the race, Charlotte ‘chose’ to return to Monaco for the rest of her summer break and Charles brought his suitcase across the hall to your room. He kept his promise and you kept yours, cheering for him from inside the Ferrari garage.

“You found your way back,” Max said in passing at the following race, one of the rare times he found you without Charles.

“Yup, no more getting lost,” you chuckled, though you were sure you were talking about different things. “You were right, all paddocks are the same.”

“Good,” he said with a forced smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “But if you do get lost, or find yourself alone…you have my number, schat.”

You nodded with a sense of shyness and smiled at your feet. “I found out what that means.”

“Do you want me to stop calling you that?”

“I don’t know.”

His smile finally reached his eyes and you realised you should have said yes, but you were being selfish. “Well, when you do know…call me.”

#charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n

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lucilleslore · 5 months

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oh lord i love your coryo drabbles so much! especiallyyyy the touch-starved one. i would quite literally die just to be able to read a drabble about coryo slowly falling in love with reader (being an average girl from district 12) over the course of being strangers to friends 🤭

➸ coriolanus arrives in twelve with a dark cloud over his head and a mind full of revenge and envy. he hates that he’s here, hates being surrounded by these people who are so below him, hates that his future is so uncertain.

➸ he’s been plagued by these thoughts for his journey, like a nonstop melody in his head but just as he’s leaving the station he spots you. you’re plain by capitol standards, in a dress that’s a few sizes too small and a little discoloured like you’ve had it for years but you’re smiling and when you see him staring at you, you smile more and offer him a sweet little wave.

➸ his lip curls a little in disgust. he doesn’t want to be approached, he just needs to think on how to get back home, that’s all. but he’s intrigued. so intrigued that when he’s eating his first meal he thinks of you, your name, your life, how that stupid smile of yours made his stomach go funny. when he puts his head down that night he wonders where you could be, if you’re with someone. that’s how easily his obsessions can start.

➸ then he starts to see you around, easily beginning to pick you out of crowds no matter how big. how did he ever think you were plain? compared to everyone else you’re a star, a gem in this dull district. you start to give him something else to think about, to mull over in the quiet moments and as much as he hates these feelings he’s having, he’s grateful for that.

➸ he sees you smiling at everyone. the old people who seem pretty useless to him, the men who go off into the mines everyday, the women who sell their items. what have they done to deserve that from you? the jealousy curdles in his stomach when he realises he wants those smiles to himself, doesn’t even want you to look at anyone apart from him. he’s infatuated with you.

➸ honestly he’s that feral he’d probably start using his peacekeeper status to his advantage. to get information from other people about you. it only feeds his obsession more so after a while he just stops you in the street. pretends something suspicious is going on and asks if you’ve seen anything. this little crease forms between your brows and he resists the urge to reach out and touch it. you’re just so genuine, so sweet, so uncorrupted. he wants you all to himself.

➸ it probably goes on like that for a while. he’s patient and the little snippets are enough for now. he busies himself with getting to know you deeper. watching for your little mannerisms and nervous ticks, figuring out what your real laugh sounds like compared to your fake one. stupid, stupid things. it’s a complete waste of time coryo thinks but he still can’t stop.

➸ he will definitely interfere in your life if he has to. you think you’re going out dancing with that cute guy from the mines? no way. not on his watch. he’ll find some way to keep the guy busy and when coryo sees you looking upset the next day he can’t stop thinking about ways to cheer you up. to get you smiling for him.

➸ there are nights though where he’s dragged out by his bunk mates and sajanus and he sees you there too. dancing with your friends, singing and laughing and in those moments if he could wish for one thing, he’d wish to be in your life - properly.

➸ so watching from afar sustains him for a little while but coryo grows desperate with time. you don’t pay much attention to him anymore, he’s merely faded to the background as he’s become more comfortable in twelve. just another peacekeeper who’s handsome but you’d rather avoid.

➸ then maybe one day you’re walking back to your house with a little woven basket of food and someone’s not watching where they’re going and knocks you down. coryo of course is watching and rushes over, he’s not keen on the idea of playing the knight in shining armour but when he saw you on the muddy ground, dirty dress ridden up to expose a slither of thigh; he just had to help. even more so when the idiot who made you fall and knocked your groceries to the ground just turns and leaves you there. he decides he’ll deal with him later.

➸ you’re embarrassed of course, quickly smoothing your dress back down and offering the hand he gives you to help you up. you’re shy but so, so sweet. telling him how much you appreciate the help, giving his hand a little squeeze before you let go, tucking your hair behind your ear. coryo is perceptive though and sees the small disappointed frown that takes over your features when you see what’s happened to your shopping.

➸ and he can’t have that. so before he knows what he’s doing coryo has a hand at the small of your back, turning you around and offering to replace everything you lost. you complain that it’s not necessary, that he doesn’t have to do that but he’s not listening and he buys you double of everything. just to be safe.

➸ so in your head you have to repay him, right? you manage to do some baking with what you had and the next time you see him you’re handing him a little paper bag filled with some treats and he doesn’t know what to say. it’s small, insignificant but he hasn’t had a gift in a long, long time. he’s speechless and he doesn’t like it.

➸ from then on he finds a way to always take you on your errands. will switch shifts if he has to so he’s got the free time. he likes the way people stare at the two of you. the curiosity that plays on their faces when you take his hand and pull him over to look at something. he notices that about you; that you have this basic, unappealing life in twelve but you’re always finding something to be cheery about. you stupefy him sometimes.

➸ coryo begins to imagine putting you on the train and taking you home with him when he goes. showing you what a real life could look like, the glamour and luxury the capitol could offer. you deserve a life like that, you deserve to be spoiled and taken care of. by him, only him. this is when he really starts his scheming because he needs to find a way to get you out of there.

➸ he starts to get closer to you by always showing up for you. you need walked home? he’s there. if you’re out at night he doesn’t just watch anymore, he’ll come over and tell you how pretty you look. he notices you start to walk extra slow, taking longer routes home and he tries to act like you wanting to spend more time with him doesn’t bother him in the slightest.

➸ coryo definitely starts getting in fights. a lot of them. over you. can’t take it when men’s eyes linger too long, when they look you up and down like you’re their next meal. he dreams of getting you to the capitol, even when banished he’s sure they’d show him more respect than he gets in twelve. for gods sake, the men are like animals. he needs to get you out of there.

➸ there’s one day where you invite him to the lake and you see coryo in a different light. where he can be fun and romantic in his own light. he picks you some wild flowers but proceeds to tell you how ugly they are compared to his roses back home. helps you put together a makeshift meal just to screw his face up and tell you how much better the food back home is. you can tell he’s going somewhere with it, you just don’t know where exactly.

➸ your favourite part is when the two of you get in the water. when coryo is a breath away and droplets of water were hanging from his lashes. when the world was quiet and it was just the two of you. you weren’t as naive as he thought you were. there was times you’d look at him and see right through to the darkness of his core. times when you’d want to shrink back when you’d see the empty, hollow expression on his features. he was different, your coryo; but you were determined to love him all the same.

➸ when your lips brushed his coryo tensed up. unprepared for the way it made him feel. the dizzy rush in his head, the way his stomach was rolling. the simplest form of affection and he could hardly breathe, couldn’t think straight even if someone offered him money.

➸ you pulled back, afraid you’d scared him off and he looks terrified. you give him what you hope is a reassuring smile. that smile, coryo thinks as he takes it all in. he’d do anything for that smile. its solidified with that one small kiss that he’ll never let you go. you’re completely and utterly stuck with him <3

#coriolanus snow #- !concepts!#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you

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