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viennakarma · 4 months

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Happiness is a butterfly

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: He wants you but he can't have you. But when a fatal crash happens, he realizes maybe he should just take the jump, before it's too late.

Word count: 6.4k

Tags: Female reader, teammate reader, smut, oral, angst, crash, very remorseful nano, cursing, mostly fernando pov, fernando is in denial, age gap (not defined), hurt/comfort, brief mention of Jules Bianchi, happy ending, not beta read

Relationships: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Notes: LISTEN I wish I could control my creative brain but I can’t. *taps mic* Ok, so, who's ready for our little monthly crying session? This actually came to me in a dream after I listened to Happiness is a butterfly, and I ended up incorporating some of the lyrics in the story. I was only contemplating writing this when Anon sent this request asking for angst after a big fight, and I thought it goes perfectly with what I had in mind.

Hope it's to your liking, Anon!

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“Fernando,” You whispered like it wasn’t wrong, like his name was a prayer.

Fernando knew it was wrong, not only because you were a driver and his teammate, but also because you were way too young for him. But whenever you two were like that, you in his arms, it felt so right, so perfect.

Sometimes he wondered to himself if he took advantage of you. Because ever since you first met, you looked at him with big shiny eyes, like you were facing a hero. He knew you were a fan of his, but then again, most of the younger drivers were. But when you two became teammates and got closer, he’d notice how your eyes would find his first thing after entering any room. Whenever you two had chats alone, you’d smile at him in a specific way you didn’t smile at anyone else, blush creeping up your face.

It was so easy to be enchanted by you, by your kindness and willingness. Fernando was drawn to you like a moth to flame, only you didn’t burn him. You were kind to everyone and very talkative, and for a while, Fernando wondered how you managed to get into Formula 1 and keep your spirit intact. Everyone called you a social butterfly. Then he started calling you Mariposa, as a sweet nickname, and he explained to you it meant “Butterfly”.

You two were always together, being teammates, so it didn’t take long for the dynamic shift. Soon, there were longing looks and lingering touches. The way Fernando would always touch the small of your back for a little too long when talking to you, or the way you lean too close whenever talking to him, or the way his eyes stare at your lips every opportunity. Or when you finished a good race and the first thing you’d do was jump on his arms. How you’d always knock three times on his helmet right before going off to the race, he started reciprocating the gesture, since he knew it was probably your thing for good luck or something.

Things went like that for too long, and neither of you were brave enough to take the jump, as you called it.

That until fate put you face to face during summer break. You were in Mallorca with a bunch of your friends for a girls trip in a resort by the sea. You were having brunch when you spotted Fernando at the same time he spotted you, his eyebrows raising in surprise, he muttered something to the people with him that looked like his family members, before coming to you.

“Mariposa!” He hugged you softly.

“Hi! Good to see you!” You chirped, nervously.

Fernando blatantly checked you out. You were wearing simple bikinis and a light beach robe. You were tanned, hair wild and cheeks red like you had come straight out of one of his wet dreams.

“Enjoying summer break?” He asked.

“Yeah, with my friends,” You pointed to where they waited for you at the table, “will you be here for long?”

“No, my family is going back today and I’m leaving tomorrow. We’ve been here for a few days already.”

You waved him goodbye after a quick chat. That night, the weather, the breeze and the empty villa tempted him into calling you. He didn’t want to be that guy so he resisted the urge, instead going for a walk by the beach, alone. As fate would have it, he found you at a small beach party with your friends, dancing and drinking.

Like a magnet, your eyes found his, and you said something to your friends before walking up to him.

“You came to the party?” You asked.

“No, I was just taking a walk and passed by,” He shrugged, and started walking away “I’ll let you go back to your friends.”

“No! No- I mean- Can I walk with you?” You asked and he just nodded.

You two walked away by the shore, the small waves crashing over your feet, and you two chatting about the island and all the adventures you got to go.

“So you went diving, surfing? Everything?”

“I have always been kind of a scaredy-cat, especially as a kid. My dad used to tell me ‘you just have to breathe ten seconds of courage and take the jump’. Funnily, racing was the only thing I wasn’t afraid of. I’m in control, me and the car are one.”

He listened to you for a long while, his eyes focused on the way the wind picked up your hair, your dress flowy in the wind and your bikini top peeking from under the neckline. You were looking delicious, he had to admit. You always were, but now, after spending the whole day under the sun, your skin was golden and glowy, and he imagined himself biting into your shoulder and kissing up your neck.

When you two finally stopped by the villa, Fernando looked at you attentively.

“Won’t your boyfriend be worried about you?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you shook your head knowing that he was just trying to find out if you had someone.

“You don’t? Well you’re pretty and nice, I thought you’d have one by now.”

“You think I’m pretty?” You asked, blushing which made him chuckle.

“You know you are stunning.”

“Well, I know I’m pretty, I just didn’t know if I am pretty enough for you.”

“Mariposa,” his voice had a tone of reprimand, but his eyes falling down your cleavage and body, betrayed him.

“Just one kiss?” You asked, pouting, “and we don’t even have to talk about it after.”

“I can’t.”

“But you want to?” You asked, full of hope.

“We should not,” he whispered as you closed the distance to his face, your face barely centimeters from his, lips dangerously close.

“We could just,” you tried to come up with an argument, but your lips brushed his beard and you lost all train of thought.

“If we start, I will not be able to stop,” he mumbled, trying so hard to refrain himself.

“Then don’t.”

That’s all it took for him to press his fingers to your nape, pulling you in and smashing his lips to yours. And it felt divine, like nothing he had ever done before, you were sweet and the harder he kissed you, the more pliant you got in his arms, sighing and moaning softly as his hand found home over your ass, pressing firmly until your whole body was flush to his.

“Fernando,” you whispered, his lips going down your neck, his beard making goosebumps raise on your skin.

Then you walked inside without really breaking apart. Fernando pulled your dress from your body, staring at you in your bikini.

“This is tiny,” he said, hooking a finger by the string on the sides of the bottom.

You smiled some way you hoped was seductive, taking a step back so he could see you fully as you pulled the strings, letting your bikini top fall to the floor, followed by the bottom soon after.

Soon he had you bent over the back of the sofa, holding onto the seat for dear life as he knelt behind you and ate you out, fingering you ass all the way to a mind blowing orgasm. Then he fucked you senseless, whispering dirty nothings into your ear, switching English and Spanish back and forth. He slapped your ass until it was stinging, whispering about your “tempting tiny bikini”. He had you groaning, drooling against the sofa until your toes curled and you came around his cock.

“Nano… Fuck-” you moaned feeling him cumming too.

He cuddled you, both of you falling on the sofa, spent.

“Why were we holding back? We should’ve done this a long time ago.” You said, lips brushing his beard.

He didn’t answer because he knew why he had been holding back. You were young, sometimes naive, and his teammate. It was double the trouble. But he didn’t allow himself to wallow in those feelings, rather focusing on the feel of you naked in his arms.

“You know what we should do? Stay here a bit longer,” you rose from his chest, eyes glinting mischievously, “we should extend our stay here.”

“Just you and me?”

“Just us,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his chest.

And so you stayed with him. You sent your friends to Ibiza as a gift and Fernando extended his rent on the villa. You’d spend the day lazing around, cooking together and going to the beach or the pool. You played tennis and trained together in the small gym. You made love on every possible surface of that whole villa, which left you spent and satisfied every single day.

And you talked. Fernando considered you to be one of the closests people to him on the grid, but still, he learned so much more about you, about your mental strength to rise and thrive in motorsport. And you were clever and witty, joking around him, talking about life and all your dreams. And he could hear you for hours on end, never getting tired of you.

Unfortunately, your little time of uninterrupted happiness had to end. With a heavy heart, you kissed him goodbye, both of you aware that things would never go back to the way they were before summer break. But you two were also too scared to name anything, or to ruin whatever this dynamic was.

But you left Mallorca admitting to yourself that you had fallen in love even deeper.

You tried to keep texting and calling him, but you usually were in very different time zones so the texts were few and far between. Fernando even sent you a sweet text on your birthday a few of days later.

There was a gala by the end of summer break almost three weeks later, hosted by the FIA, it was mostly for mingling, and most drivers usually went, especially those trying to keep an image to the big shots.

Fernando went there because he rarely missed it. And maybe because he knew you would be there too, and maybe he could leave with you.

You arrived a little late, stunning in a green gown, with a tight corset and a big slit showing your leg. Fernando watched as you made rounds, greeting people and old men, other drivers that were your friends and their wives or girlfriends. You eventually made your way to Fernando, and he proudly waited for you when you walked up to him, the most beautiful smile adorning your lips and eyes shining just as much as the diamonds on your earrings.

“You’re beautiful, mariposa.” Fernando whispered.

“Thank you, you look handsome too. Love me a man in a tuxedo.” You whispered back conspiratorially, winking at him.

You two chatted for a little, watching the people around. You told him everything you did during summer break after you two parted ways in Mallorca. When the slow music started, you watched the couples getting to the dancefloor.

“Nano, can we dance?” You asked. He just stiffened, face unsure.

“Hm, I’m not sure.”

“Nobody will mind, we’re teammates,” you shrugged.

“I don’t think it's a good idea,” He looked at your face, still staring longingly at the couples slow dancing on the dancefloor. Yearning for something he couldn’t give you.

“Mhm…” You hummed, disappointed. You stood there silent for a couple more minutes, watching the dancefloor. Fernando imagined dancing with you, having you in his arms, listening to your voice, your hand on his shoulder. You cleared your throat for a second, “I’m gonna get a drink.”

You didn’t wait for his response, leaving with long strides to the bar, the opposite side. Fernando’s eyes never left you, he watched as you got a drink and sipped a little, sitting on a bar stool. Some people stopped to greet you quickly. At some point, Charles Leclerc stopped you, whispering something that made you giggle a little, then he offered you a hand, probably inviting you to dance, but you refused politely. You grabbed a second drink and turned on the stool, nursing your drink and still watching the party go on.

You wanted to dance with him, not anyone else.

Eventually, the party died down, and Fernando got close to you again, whispering in your ear to meet him in the most discreet parking lot and then he left. You watched his back as he made his way out. Downing whatever was left of your drink, you stood up, making a quick route to say goodbye to everyone.

Finally, you met Fernando in the car. He had driven himself in his expensive car.

As he drove away in the middle of the night, he put his hand on your thigh under the slit of the dress. You honestly wanted to jump him, to make him stop the car anywhere and just get into it.

Quietly making into his hotel room, you kicked your high heels off and kissed him, not giving him any second before deepening the kiss, pressing your body to his.

“Wait,” he managed to croak out. You took a step back. He went into his luggage and picked a small box, handing it to you, “I know your birthday was two weeks ago, but since I didn’t see you- well, happy birthday.”

“You didn’t have to…” you whispered, opening the box to a beautiful and delicate necklace with a gold butterfly pendant with small diamonds all around the wings, “it’s so beautiful, Fernando.”

“Not as much as you, Mariposa.” He whispered back, taking the necklace, placing you in front of the full body mirror and standing behind you and locking the necklace around your neck.

“Thank you”

He kissed your neck, running a hand down your arm, then kissing your shoulders while pulling the hair pins out of your hair, letting your hair free. He kept leaving hot wet kisses on your skin, calling you “hermosa” and “my mariposa” all while unzipping your dress slowly. You let him do whatever, his hands pushing the corset out until the fabric pooled around your ankles kicking it away too, and you stood in nothing but panties and the necklace.

You gasped, staring at your reflection on the mirror and him behind you, his rough fingertips running over your side, getting to your front and cupping your boobs. You felt soft as his fingers pinched your nipples, making you moan softly.

“You ready to take me?” He asked against your ears.

“Please, Nano,” you moaned his name the way you only said it when you were alone and getting intimate.

“Foot there,” he pointed to a chair. You did as he said, one leg up so he could have better access to your panties.

He pressed his chest to your back, fingers sliding inside your panties to feel your obscene wetness dampening the fabric. His fingers slid right over your clit, spreading your juices all around, before diving into your cunt. You moaned, head lolling back against his shoulder, as he pleasured you nonstop. You had been turned on even since the gala, and the ride to the hotel had been pure torture not being touched. So it didn’t take much for him to build you up, his thumb brushing your clit. Your moaning got louder and with the way he could feel your cunt clenching around his fingers, he knew you were close.

And so he stopped, making you whine. He just chuckled.

“Nano! I was so close!” You pouted.

“Needy girl, get on the bed,” he pointed again, like an order, “you’re cumming around my cock first.”

You sat on the bed slowly, still reeling from almost orgasming. You watched as Fernando started undressing in front of you, so you just ran both hands from his chest down to his thighs, fingers barely touching the straining erection in his pants.

“Don’t get greedy now. Wait.”

With his words, you stopped touching him, leaning back so you could watch him undress. When he finally got rid of all clothing, he leaned, kissing your stomach and up your boobs, mouthing your nipples as his hands pulled your panties, letting you lay down on the edge of the bed. You held his head against your nipples, his eyes finding yours through his eyelashes.

When you were both fully naked, he just held your legs open and sank into your cunt, making you moan loud as you back rose up from the bed.

“Nano- oh, fuck!” You moaned, and pulled by his neck to kiss you.

He kissed you back slowly, patiently contrasting your desperate hands on his shoulder, crawling up his neck, fingertips sinking into his soft hair, as he fucked you slowly, pressing you deliciously into the bed, one hand firmly on the bedrest and the other holding your neck, pressing until you were cumming, his lips sucking hickeys into your skin.

You two were cuddling quietly when you decided to say what you’ve been thinking about ever since Mallorca.

“We should go on a date, Fernando. Take the next step, I really like what we have.”

You could feel him stiffening against you, and you closed your eyes, afraid of what his response would be.

“We can’t, mariposa. You are way younger than me,” He said somberly, “and we’re teammates. This would be too messy for the both of us, but especially for you, who is just starting your career.”

“I don’t mind if that’s the price I need to pay to have you.”

“We can’t take this kind of risk for something we don’t even know it’s real.”

That squeezed your heart and made you angry with his denial.

“Fernando, this is real- You know that!”

“Calling a cab to take you to your hotel,” he said standing up and picking his phone. His tone was cold, detached from you, like you were just some toy for him to have fun with, and now you served your purpose.

“Don’t be like that, Fernando. This is more than just sex,” you got up, covering yourself with the bedsheet because it felt too vulnerable having this conversation naked.

“We can’t be anymore than that. You’re too young to understand.” He said not looking at you.

There was a lump on your throat rapidly forming. He knew you hated when people treated you like you were dumb because you were young.

“Please let us just talk about it-”

“There’s nothing to talk about. This means nothing! Nada!” He exclaimed.

“You don’t mean that. Don’t be a jerk.” Your voice was already wavering.

You stared at his back as he turned around, going to the opposite side of the room, your tears started falling down.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He finally said but still didn’t look at you.

“I’m already hurt,” you said, picking up your panties from the floor hastily putting them on, realizing how Fernando had helped you with your dress, so you just picked up one of his sweaters and dressed, “do you want me or do you not?”

“I don’t want you.”

“You’re missing good things in life because of fear. Just take the fucking jump, Fernando.”

The next thing he heard was the slamming door behind you.

When he walked back, he noticed you had left the butterfly necklace on the table. Holding the necklace against the palm of his hand, he wondered if he did the right thing or just lost the best thing in his life.

You didn’t text or called him. And he didn’t either. Eventually he texted you, to tell you had “forgot” the necklace, to test the waters.

“You’re the only one who calls me mariposa. This necklace has no meaning to me if you’re not in my life.”

His mind would often wander back to Mallorca, to those few days you and him lived in paradise. Sleeping late, waking up even later, then making love lazily under the sun, sunbathing naked by the pool, and cooking together, training together. There was never silence with you, since you were always talking or singing or playing loud music.

And he missed it. As the weeks progressed and the more race weeks came, you didn’t try to talk to him about the two of you. You were still polite and talkative, usually filling his silence with stories, talks about the track and strategies. You still knocked on his helmet three times before every race, probably a pre race ritual by now.

He missed you. He missed not only the feel of your cunt around his cock, but he missed your loudness, and your laugh. He missed the light in your eyes that was slowly darkening each passing day. Like you were losing hope he would come around and change his mind.

The last race of the season, he was a little late from a meeting, so you were already getting in the car when he came out. Your visor was up, so you just looked at him, and knocked your own helmet three times as a sign to him, who did the same gesture back to you.

By around ⅔ of the race, there was an accident and the red flag was called.

It took maybe two or three minutes until all cars stopped on the pitlane, lined up under the red flag. As Fernando climbed out of the car, he turned around, looking for you, removing his helmet, guard and balaclava, he went inside the garage.

“Where’s Mariposa?” He asked, to one in particular. But then his eyes landed in Martha, your PT, and her eyes were watery as she pointed to the screen.

A sinking feeling expanded in his stomach as he saw your car, that now looked like an unrecognizable wreckage. He dropped his helmet, covering his mouth with a hand. The marshals were all around your burning car, various people with fire extinguishers, trying to lower the fire enough to pull you out.

“Has she responded yet? Did she say anything?” Fernando asked without removing his eyes from the screen.

“No,” Somebody said, somberly.

“She’ll be fine,” Fernando assured, probably trying to convince himself, and his rapid heartbeat. He had seen and had been in many ugly crashes, and in the end, the driver had come out unscathed. He was sure you could manage, you were very strong and stubborn.

When the fire died down enough, a couple of marshals pulled you out, and Fernando’s heart felt like it was stopping as they pulled you out unconscious. The marshals made a small shield around you and carried you to the ambulance.

Looking around, Fernando finally noticed how everyone was horrified by the crash, and all the drivers around seemed pale and worried. It took a couple of minutes for the FIA to decide to keep the race going, setting it to restart 15 minutes later.

“Fernando,” someone called, and he turned to be faced with George and Alex, who were your closest friends on the grid, “any news on her?”

“Not yet,” he paused, trying really hard to not freak out, “Mike went to the hospital with her.”

“That was ugly,” Alex muttered gloomily.

The tree of them stayed silent, eyes on the screen where a replay of your crash. It was probably a mechanical issue, since you were in high speed when the tyres locked, and you visibly couldn’t brake, going straight into the barriers, full force.

“Will-” George started but his voice failed a little and he cleared his throat, “will she be ok?”

“Yes. She’ll be ok.” Fernando said, not only to calm down the two young drivers, but also to convince himself, since no other option was acceptable in his mind.

You had to be fine.

“Fuck it,” Fernando went inside his room, changing quickly into more casual clothes, as he came out, the team was confused, “I’m sorry, but I have to check on her. Martha, come with me.”

He left knowing he would face terrible consequences with the FIA, not only for not going back to the race, but also because he avoided the press to go to the hospital you were taken to.

On the car, on the way to the hospital they had taken you to, his phone rang, and it was Mike, who had been the first one to go with you to the hospital. Fernando supposed Mike would want to tear him a new one for abandoning the race.

But no. Mike wanted to update him, telling you had a concussion that had knocked you out on the spot, inside the car. They were going to check if you had any more injuries with scans and tests.

By the time he got to the hospital, he met with Mike, and with Vince, your friend and manager, they said you were still unconscious and going through all the examinations necessary. The doctors wanted to see if you didn’t have any internal bleeding or fractures. They kept you unconscious during urgent care, hoping you would wake up after the tests and after the meds wear off.

Fernando sat in the waiting room unmoved, his fear eating him inside every minute you had not woken up yet. Martha was tearful the whole time, while Vince was making calls right and left, he got in touch with your family and closest friends. Alberto showed up around an hour after to pick Fernando up to go back to the hotel.

“I am not leaving,” Fernando said.

“Fernando, there’s nothing you can do. Vince said she will probably wake up late morning tomorrow, we can just-”

“I will not leave.”

Fernando’s words left no space for debate. He didn’t have any commitments for the next week. So he stayed after everyone left, waiting for news on his mariposa. He could barely drink the coffee because his stomach was churning with the lack of news. In the middle of the night, finally they finished the tests and they put you in a room.

After bribing his way inside, Fernando was able to get into your room and see you. You were sleeping, looking peaceful in that hospital bed, using an oxygen inhaler.

“Why does she need oxygen?” He asked the nurse checking on you.

“Here it says she inhaled some smoke before the fire was put off,” the woman explained, reading your chart.

“She will be alright, isn’t she?” He asked, his tone audibly worried. The nurse sighed, as if she didn’t want to say her next words.

“We can’t tell just yet. For now the scans and tests show she is fine, but we can only tell for sure after she wakes up.”

She left Fernando behind with dread consuming his every thought.

As he stared at your unconscious body on the bed, he couldn’t help but remember when you slept with him in Mallorca. Your naked body tangled with the blankets, hair splayed on the pillows and tanned limbs looking for him even in sleep, hugging him and keeping him in bed with you longer than he usually did. He sat by the bed, hand holding yours, running his thumb over your cold knuckles.

The remorse was eating him alive. You had to be alright. You had to wake up soon and laugh at his worried face, joking that you’re tougher than you look. Giving him those eyes. He couldn’t bear not looking at your eyes again, that would break him apart one last time.

Because you could have been his the whole time. He could have slept with you in his arms more often than not. He could have been stealing your kisses in dark corners and going out for dinner after late team meetings. He could’ve received random cute selfies from you throughout his day. He could’ve whispered “I love you” into your skin every night. Only he didn’t.

His last words to you were “I don’t want you” and he couldn’t take it if those were his last words for you ever. He never let himself admit to you that he had fallen. That he was absolutely crazy for you, that he loved you even before you ever kissed him.

He was about to spiral in guilt when your sister arrived in the early morning. She visibly didn’t expect Fernando there, holding her sister’s hand.

“I just talked to the doctor,” Mila, your sister, muttered.

“He said the meds will wear off later today,” Fernando said.

“You can go rest now, come back later.” Mila offered. Didn’t sound like she wanted him specifically out, but more out of worry.

“No, I- I want to stay until she’s awake.”

“Fernando, she wouldn’t want you to wear yourself thin because of her,” The way Mila said the words, it left a little unsaid.

“You know?” Was all he asked. Do you know about us? What do you think? What did she say about me? But Mila just nodded, she didn’t look judgemental.

“I know.”

He was about to leave to at least shower and eat something before coming back. As Mila got closer to your sleeping form, Fernando stood back and your sister touched your hand. Then she knocked three times on the bedside table. Fernando frowned.

“Why did you do that?” He asked Mila.

“When we were kids in karting, Dad used to do that to our helmets before races, each knock means a word. ‘I love you’, and with time it just became a silly habit of hers,” Mila explained.

Fernando’s heart twisted inside, eyes watering.

Knock. I. Knock. Love. Knock. You.

You had been doing the knocks to him for months, even before the summer break.

He left the room without a word, breathing in and out to stop the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He wasn’t an emotional man by any means, but the knowledge that you have been loving him for so long, broke his heart.

After going back to the hotel to shower and eat, he went knocking in Alberto’s room when he noticed he didn’t have his phone anywhere in sight ever since before the race had started. Like predicted, Alberto had his phone.

In his suite, Fernando unlocked his phone to hundreds of notifications, a lot from other drivers, asking for news about you, since not the Formula 1 or the FIA had released any notes about your condition. After shooting a few answers to the other drivers, he finally saw one notification, saying you had left him a voicemail the day before. From the time stamp, it was a bit before the race.

Wide eyed, he pressed play on the voicemail.

“Hey, I’m about to go out in the car, but I guess I just breathed 10 seconds of courage, well not enough to wait to say it to you face to face,” you giggled nervously, “but what I mean to say is, I love you. Probably not what you wanted to hear, but I do love you. And I know you don’t feel the same, but maybe you could… I don’t know, maybe you could take a chance on me. I know your reservations about the world, but… We should take the jump. I can make you really happy if you let me. And maybe one day you will grow to love me- god, that last part was pathetic- Shit- How do I delete this?” There was noise as if you were struggling with the phone and then someone called your name far away, “one second!” you told the person, “shit, I gotta go. Just please, can we talk over the winter break? I guess what I mean is that-” Then the beep ended the message, cutting your voicemail off.

He pressed play a couple more times, until he could breathe again, your voice offering some sense of peace to his mind. You were willing to have him, even after he kicked you out of his hotel room, even after he pretty much ignored your history all these past few months.

It would be alright. You would wake up, he would tell you he loved you and he was so sorry that he had wasted so much time being afraid of what people may think or how the world might treat you.

Only you didn’t.

You didn’t wake up after the meds wore off. And Fernando, your sister, Vince and Martha were all shocked when the doctor said it was possible you were in a coma.

“Everything seems ok, but she’s not waking up. Sometimes the body takes a little more time to recover from traumas like this.”

“When-” Mila’s voice failed, tears streaming down her face, “when do you believe she could wake up?”

“We can’t pinpoint that with precision,” the doctor answered.

“Get all the tests redone,” Fernando said suddenly, “maybe you missed something.”

“But-”

“I’ll pay for it.”

That’s all he said before leaving and entering a toilet by the waiting room. His chest heaving, he watered his shaky hands to try and calm down. You didn’t wake up. They weren’t sure when or if you would wake up. And, fuck, Fernando had seen that before with Jules, who was comatose for months before passing away.

He remembered the blinding pain of losing a friend and he couldn’t bear losing the love of his life too. Fernando stayed in the stall for a while, trying to calm down his terrified thoughts.

When he went back, your sister was still crying, being comforted by Vince.

“Fernando, can you stay here while we call my family?” Mila asked, and Fernando nodded.

As they left, Fernando sat by your side, holding your hand. With his thumb running over the back of your hand, he looked at your face.

“I don’t want you to go,” he whispered, “I need you here. There’s still so much for you here. Please, I just need you to fight a little more, yes? You have always been stubborn.”

He waited for some kind of miracle, for you to wake up, for your eyes to find him like they always did even in a crowded room.

“When you recover, we will go out, on a proper date, and we’ll dance, like you wanted to. We’ll hold hands and I’ll take you to meet my family.” He kissed the back of your hand softly, “Wake up, Mariposa.”

He stayed there the whole day, letting your sister go find a hotel to stay and get some sleep. Then at night, she came back, assuring Fernando that he should go to sleep too, she knew he was more than a day and a half awake. Back at the hotel, he showered the smell of hospital off and made some calls to take care of his businesses. He texted George and Alex to update them. He also talked to his family, giving updates on his teammate, but not prolonging the chat as to not risk breaking down because of the state his mariposa was in the hospital. Then he went to sleep after a quick dinner, exhausted enough to sleep fairly quickly.

He managed to sleep the whole night, going in and off dreams of you, his brain probably too worried to really forget, even unconscious. He woke up at dawn, going back to the hospital so your sister could leave to rest.

Fernando checked on you first thing, and you were still unconscious, but your sister was on the phone talking to your parents, so he just left to give her a little privacy. He went into the cafeteria and drank a small cup of coffee.

As he went back, he noticed how agitated Vince looked on the phone right outside your room.

“Vince, what happened?” He asked, dreading that the worse had happened in the few minutes he was away.

“She woke up!”

Fernando’s eyes welled up with tears as he opened the door.

“-No, no, don’t talk just yet. Let’s wait for the doctor,” you sister said to you, then both of them looked at Fernando, who looked rooted to the spot, “Fernando! She woke up!” Your sister said through happy tears.

Your sister hugged again, kissing your head, whispering how she loved you all while Fernando stood there, trying to will his limbs to move. Then the doctor and a nurse came, asking you all to leave so he could examine you.

He waited outside as your sister went on the phone with the good news to your family again. Then the doctor came out, announcing you were looking good, and apparently no sequelae but they would still keep you for a few more days for close examination and to make sure everything was alright.

Barely registering anything, Fernando just entered your room, and you smiled at him. You smiled. Your eyes shining bright like you had just woken up from a simple nap.

And then he cried. Fully cried for the first time since the accident, like the relief of seeing you alive and well broke the dam of the tears he had been trying to hold back. And he could breathe again. Covering his face with both hands, he tried to get himself in control but he only stopped when he heard you.

“Na-” your voice was hoarse, “-no.”

“No, don’t talk yet. The nurse said your throat might feel a little dry.” He managed to subside his tears enough to talk.

When he sat down on the chair, you lifted your hand to hold his face. You were still a bit weak, but you wiped his face of the tears. He held your hand with both of his, kissing your palm.

“You gave us quite the scare,” Fernando said with a small smile. You smiled back, looking sleepy, “I thought I was going to lose you.”

You shook your head minimally but your eyes had that mischievous glint, like you were thinking of a silly joke about how tough you actually are.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for making you think I don’t love you, when I really do. I have for the longest time. We’ll make it work, however you want,” he just dumped the words, not wanting to lose another precious second not being yours, “soy tuyo, Mariposa. Te amo, mi amor.”

You just held his hand, squeezing it slowly three times. I. Love. You.

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #formula 1 #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso #formula one #Spotify

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nanowrimo · 6 months

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Pro Tips from a NaNo Coach: How to Write a Clean(ish) Fast Draft

NaNoWriMo can seem like a daunting task sometimes, for NaNo newbies and veterans alike. Fortunately, our NaNo Coaches are here to help guide you through November! Today, author Jesse Q. Sutanto is here to share her advice on how to set yourself up for noveling success:

Dear Nano-ers,

My first book took me three years to cobble together. During that time, I joined Absolute Write—a free writers forum which I completely love and recommend to all aspiring writers—and I made a friend who convinced me to try doing NaNoWriMo. I was completely unconvinced, but I am a people-pleaser and I can never say no, so I agreed to try it for my second novel.

My second novel took me less than a month to write. It was a complete mess, but it was also a revelation. Often, I felt myself falling into that writing Holy Grail—the hole which consumes you, makes you forget the rest of the world, and absorbs you completely in the world you are creating on paper. I loved the process deeply, and never looked back since. All of my subsequent books have since been written in a matter of months.

And you know what? They were all a horrific mess. I did not learn how to do a clean and fast draft until my NINTH book, and I don’t think I would’ve ever learnt without the help of NaNoWriMo. So here are my tips on how to best tackle a sprint-a-thon like NaNo.

1. Try to come up with a loose outline.

When I first started writing, I was a pure pantser. I had no idea what was going to happen before I sat down to write. This is a completely legit way of writing, but I have since learned that it is massively helpful to have an idea, even a vague one, of what you are trying to say with your book. What was really helpful for me was to sit down for just five minutes before writing each scene and try to envision what I wanted the scene to achieve. Once I had that in mind, the scene became much easier to write.

2. Break down your writing time.

Ever heard of the Pomodoro technique? In order to hit 50,000 words a month, you need to write around 1,600 words a day. That is a heck of a lot of words to write! Break it down. Set 10 or 15-minute timers and use that to your advantage. Trust me, if you told me to sit down and write 1,600 words, I would be like, “Omg that’s too much!” But if you told me to just write for 15 minutes, that feels a lot more doable.

3. Give yourself permission to write trash.

Before each writing session, I actually say out loud: “I am going to write trash.” And this gives me permission to write whatever comes to my mind without judgment. You can always edit later, but for now, focus on letting the words out on paper.

4. Lean on others for support.

I made the mistake of thinking that writing is a lonely vocation. In fact, it is one of the most social things I could do. Social media, while a double-edged sword, has done so much for the writing community. I have found all of my close writer friends through social media, and I chat with them every day and consider them my close, lifelong friends. Don’t be afraid to reach out and make connections within the community. You are not alone.

Jesse Q. Sutanto is the award-winning, bestselling author of Dial A for Aunties, Vera Wong’s Unsolicited Advice for Murderers, Well, That Was Unexpected, The Obsession, and Theo Tan and the Fox Spirit. The film rights to her women’s fiction, Dial A for Aunties, was bought by Netflix in a competitive bidding war, and the TV rights to Vera Wong was bought by Warner Bros, with Oprah and Mindy Kaling attached to produce. She has a master’s degree in creative writing from Oxford University, though she hasn’t found a way of saying that without sounding obnoxious.

#nanowrimo #writing #nanowrimo 2023 #writing advice #writing tips #writblr #by nano coach #jesse q. sutanto

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lovepookie · 4 months

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₊˚ෆ Green Light - l.hs

♡︎ sypnosis: in which you have a staring problem—and lee heeseung notices. the weirdest part? he’s totally into that. he just needs the traffic light to turn green to make a move. did you like him like he’s come to like you? find out next episode! on-

♡ genre: fluff, college au, fem!reader, crack, strangers to lovers

♡ 3.4k word count

♡ warnings: uhh cussing, stalker-ish?, stalking mentioned as a joke, please let me know if you’d like me to add any!

♡︎ nano note: hello lovelies! i’m trying to feed the hee-stans so i really hope u guys like this. feedback is much appreciated! (this may or not have been inspired by the song greenlight by 5sos lmao) may or may not write a part 2 idk lmk. xoxo

.♡.

You saw the way the corners of his lips turned up at his friend’s joke. He was so entrancing, and you didn’t know why. Literally every little move would have your breath hitched in your throat. It was actually kind of annoying. You watched him as he blew his hair out of his eyes, leaning back in his chair in a lazy way. He was just so attractive.

But why?

You’re not sure. You let your mind wander in almost anger as you try to compose yourself.

“Yah! Heeseung there she goes again.” Sunghoon whisper yells in a teasing manner.

Heeseung feels his ears turn warm and refuses to look in your direction.

“Ahhh your secret admirer?” Niki leant in, a playful smirk gracing his lips as he put his full trust in the chair he was sitting on, leaning back on the back two legs to support himself in the air. The professor had told him multiple times about not doing the dangerous act.

Did he listen?

No.

“Leave it alone.” Heeseung mumbles, picking up his pen and spinning it throughout his fingers as he looked down at his notebook. It wasn’t like he was taking notes or anything, the professor was late again to the lecture so everyone was conversating about as they waited.

“You should talk to her.” Jay said nonchalantly, a bubble gum lolipop in his mouth.

“Yeah~ You should~” Niki says as he giggles and bumps his shoulder into Heeseung’s. All Heeseung could do was blush further.

It wasn’t like he was new to the attention, he’d always had an admirer or two, but this felt different.

He’d always liked a couple of the people who took interest in him first, but it was always a sort of physical and straight off the back type of attraction. He was just like Jake and Sunghoon; having many girls lurk his way, but only the popular and pretty ones were the one’s they gave actual chances to.

But you?

This was different.

He’d be lying if he said he couldn’t say why. He had taken notice of your stares one day and had thought nothing of it. You were probably just another admirer. Right?

But one day, he decided to meet your eyes and smile at you for once. And low and behold, he wasn’t sure if it was the best or worst thing to ever happen to him because all you did was stare back. You seemed slightly caught off guard for just a moment, but your gaze never relented. It felt like a a couple seconds at most before his friends nudged him out of it, but damn. He felt so entranced through such a little interaction. The boys took notice of this of course, and now they tease him for it, but he didn’t really care. During the stare down, it felt so…

Different.

He’s given a girl the eyes before, but when he stared at you and you stared back unafraid and even unfazed, he suddenly felt as if maybe he’d been caught checking you out. It lit a fire in his stomach and released the butterflies from their cage—sappy enough to say.

From that day on, he had grown interested in the girl who stared. Almost no emotions could be read from your eyes, so Heeseung felt like he’d remember it forever.

What could he say?

He didn’t understand why he suddenly gained fondness for your cold unfaltering eyes.

He just knew it all felt…

Different.

There he was again.

You sighed as the pretty grey-haired boy had rounded the campus hallway, going in the opposite direction that you were headed out of.

Your breath hitches as you took him and his friends in.

Well, more like just him.

He was tall and lean, but strong within himself and the laugh he let out made you feel weird. He was very attractive. You couldn’t quite place a reason why, but you felt it—the steady feeling of your heartbeat speeding up.

After indulging yourself with a few glances, you decided to place an earphone in your ear and go on with your day.

Maybe the song you were listening to had reminded you of him—you’d never admit it though because by this point in your infatuation you were just trying to seal away any and all ideas of him. If it was up to you, you’d forget the lingering thoughts of him altogether.

You saw the way he looked at you too.

Still.

As far as you were concerned; you had no chance with Heeseung.

That was just reality.

One foot hovering over the gas pedal—yet the red-light never changes.

“Guess who’s here…” Jake says as he swings his arm around Heeseung.

Heeseung’s eyes go up from his phone as he looked around almost instinctively and found you. You had your headphones in and wore a pretty moonstone necklace around your neck—but this time your eyes weren’t on him. He watched as you wandered the hallway and scrolled through your phone, most likely to pick out a song. He wandered what songs you’d be listening to; what songs would you specifically take the time to seek out? Did they sound pretty and soothing like your demeanor, or were they loud and abrupt like your gaze?

Heeseung cursed himself for thinking of someone this way.

He didn’t know why he did if he was being completely honest. It was like one glance from you and his whole world changed. To this day he refuses to aknowledge where the butterflies came from.

“Bro at this point, you’re the stalker.” Sunghoon joked, gaining a laugh from Niki and an elbow to the stomach from Sunoo.

“Hey, just because she stares at him doesn’t mean she’s a stalker, genius.” Sunoo mutters.

Jake just chuckles.

“I don’t know. I’d say they’re both stalkers.” Jungwon chimes in, running through a bag of mini chocolate chip cookies like he was a thief in a jewelry store.

“Hey, you say all that but I saw you eyeing her sister. She’s a Sophomore right? Like Sunoo?” Jay states, snatching the cookie bag and chomping down.

“Jungwon likes the Noona’s?!?” Jake teases, eyes going wide.

“Y-yah!” Jungwon yelps, eyebrows furrowed fiercely in contrast to his pink puffed up cheeks.

Heeseung’s eyes widened.

So you had family on campus?

Interesting.

He wandered if you two were close; he’d always been close to his brother.

Heeseung pauses as he realizes he’s curious about your family affairs but after scolding himself a bit inwardly, Niki’s voice brings him back to Earth. “Oooh~ Maybe Jungwon-hyung and Hee-hyung can go on a double date.” Niki suggests, a playful look in his eyes as he towers over his hyungs.

He was a big baby at the end of the day—they didn’t know how he skipped a grade and became a Freshman with Jungwon to be honest.

“Okay pipe down, she’s getting closer.” Heeseung mumbles, his large hand going on the back of Niki’s neck threateningly. The boys quieted down with teasing smiles on their faces as they came up on you in the hallway. In an effort to not be obvious, they achieve the opposite as you get closer and closer.

“Watch this.” Sunghoon whispers, before Heeseung’s eyes go wide.

Within a millisecond, Sunghoon’s hands are pulling at the back of Jungwon’s backpack and dragging him along to stand in front of you. The group can’t help but to stare wide-eyed at the sudden and bold interaction.

“Ummm…Y/n, Is it?” Sunghoon mutters out as Jungwon flails around trying to desperately get out of his grip.

You look up from your phone at the sudden presence in front of your walkway as well as because of the close new voice. When you meet eyes with Sunghoon, his handsome and intimidating ones are still no match for your guarded and undesiring ones.

“Hi? can I help you?” You ask, now sparing a glance to the group in front of you, a dozen plus eyes staring back. For a moment you lock eyes with Heeseung as—for what you’d like to say came from your imagination—his brows soften.

“Oh- well uh, you see, this kid right here is Mr. Yang and he was wondering if your sister was single….” Sunghoon says, gathering his confidence as he talked.

You take notice of the boy in his grasp and how he straightens up at the question. He grimaces but still stares at you expectantly. If he had been coerced into this, he seemed to be equally as interested in your response now.

“Uhh…yeah. She’s single. But not for long.” You state.

Truthfully, you had no interest in any of this, but the countless hours your sister would speak of this Jungwon kid had you wanting to stir the pot a bit.

You knew who they all were. You knew all of their names, courtesy of Heeseung—yet you never let your sister know her crush was also your crush’s friend.

“Oh?” Sunghoon asks, getting more and more comfortable being cheeky as the minutes went by.

“What do you mean not for long? Is someone currently talking to her?” He asks. You scoff as you look down to your shoes, and when you look up you let a small smile give way.

Heeseung feels his heart sink to his ass.

He’d never really seen you do that before.

You were very pretty and your smile did things to his stomach. It left him wondering what a laugh or a wide playfull smile from you would do to him.

“Well…I’m not sure…what was the name she keeps talking about?…” You ask out loud and look around as if to gather your thoughts.

“Was it Jungwon?…” You see the dimpled-boys’ eyes light up.

“…Or Sunghoon?” You pause in thought.

All of the boys’ eyes go wide. Sunghoon let’s his grip on Jungwon go as they stand speachless.

“Or was it…a short international name? I’m not sure.” You say wafting your hand in the air nonchalantly and watching as Jay, Jake and even the possible Niki go tense.

Heeseung watches in amazement as he quickly reads up on how you’re speaking and carrying yourself as if you were executing a play of some sort; your theatrics and persuasive words doing just enough to fool his dumbass friends.

You quickly do a scan over the friend group and see shocked faces, along with a grumpy looking Jungwon.

He quickly turns to you.

“Thank you for your time. I apologize for the inconvenience.” Jungwon utters before he’s grabbing Sunghoons arm to lead him back to the group for a nice and easy talking.

You let a giggle slip as they walk away, not realizing how gullible they would be.

Going back to your headphones and playing your music again in order to switch gears to leave, you decide maybe the sad love songs were too melancholy right now. That was quite a fun interaction that just played out, if you do say so yourself. This time, a love song shuffled from your playlist but before you could get far enough away from the group of boys, your music blasts out loud due to your wires not being plugged into your phone correctly.

You panic and start to fidget to fetch your phone back out of your pocket, the lyrics of love ringing through the halls.

“And it feels like oooh~ you don’t know my name~” The woman of the song sings out melodically. The smooth R&B sounds that follow really catch onto the baseboards and walls of the open hallway, and you curse yourself for walking near the music rooms to get to class. When you finally get a grip on the situation and pause the music, your cheeks are red in color and your heartbeat is at a steady and quick pace. It was at this moment you realized how fucked wires really were and that you needed a Bluetooth upgrade.

As if on cue, a tap to your shoulder pulls you into even more embarrassment as you turn around to take a look at the suspect. You lock eyes with him.

Large pupils softly looking into yours; the nerves you take notice of in them are almost overshadowed by a courageous type of interest.

“H-hi.” He utters out, almost like a whisper.

Still, you catch what he says.

“Hi.” You say back, realizing you’re probably doing that thing again with your eyes where you lock onto a target and analyze it carefully.

You were aware of this habit of yours—and man so was Heeseung. But this time, it was different.

He’d never seen you so up close and personal before. He realized you were shorter than he expected up close, his stature peering down at you to connect your eyes with his. Your eyes were back doing the thing again he noted, but my oh my your rosy cheeks accompanied them so prettily, he forgets the whole reason he even walked over.

After hearing your small response back to him, it takes him a bit to respond, snapping out of the hold your gaze held on him as soon as he realizes that you are just waiting for a response; the two of you just staring at each other in the middle of the hall. His cheeks match yours in crimson. His hand goes up to rub the nape of his neck.

He still never breaks eye contact with you.

“I- uh…I know what you did back there.” He says, unable to look away. You tilt your head sideways in confusion, and Heeseung swears his heart is about to jump out of his chest and run away for everyone in eyeshot to see.

“I…My friends? They just asked you about your sister and I wanted to say you were really good at messing with them. It was charming.” He finishes, looking back and forth between your eyes.

You blush further.

Charming?

Was he really talking about you to you right now?

“Oh- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lie, just thought I’d stir the pot a bit…” You mutter, and now your eyes are searching in each of his.

He starts to smile when he takes notice of this.

It’s almost as if the words being spoken held no meaning, the real conversation happening between eye contact—words being merely a sad excuse so that you two could watch each other up close; study each others intentions through your eyes.

His smile goes wider as he takes in each of your words and tries to multitask, and he finds himself pulling apart esch of your words so he can understand them—having no time to stop the current conversation happening silently.

“Uhm, can i ask you a question?” He asks after another pause. You stare up at him curiously now.

“Sure…”

He smiles as he continues to locate your soul through your eyes. Heeseung knew how he felt. He knew that what he felt very well might be overflowing admiration and curiosity for you.

He liked you.

And despite that it all started with catching you staring at him first, he still felt like he needed to know your intentions.

Did you really feel the same?

Was he special? Different in any way?

“…What color are my shoes…?” He questions, almost like a whisper again. You hear his words and kind of just stand there as you look up, a little confused for a second.

Heeseung chuckles and looks away for the first time in what feels like hours. When his eyes meet yours again, he’s leaning forward, his hands behind his back as he towers over you.

“I said, what color are my shoes?” He repeats, this time a little more confidently.

You knew this was a challenge by his body language; keep your eyes up top and answer the question.

Without looking down you try to rack your brain for the color of his shoes.

White?

Black?

Fucking red?

You don’t know, you don’t stare at his shoes, you’re too busy looking at-

Oh.

Heeseung watches as the realization pops up on your face. He was asking this because it was a reflection of your attention on him.

Heeseung’s shoes were bright green today.

We’re talking neon-neocity green.

The rest of his outfit was all black because he got ready this morning in a rush out of fear of being late for his morning lectures.

And so when you couldn’t answer despite him catching your glances throughout the day, he knew he had his own answer. No, this didn’t proclaim your love for him—but the interest was there, he could tell by the way you looked away for the first time during this conversation, your blush never settling, eyebrows furrowing.

If he didn’t know better, you were madly in love with him. Or so he’d like to think.

The fact of the matter is, if he’d caught your eyes so many times today, why didn’t you know the color? Don’t people who like someone else capture everything about them? What was Heeseung’s thought process? Simple.

In the many weeks he’s caught you staring it was always at him. His face, the back of his head, his side profile. This sole fact and your reaction right now let him know that you were worried that you wore your heart on your sleeve—that you were too obvious in the feelings you conveyed with your eyes. That maybe you were aware of the fact that he knew you’d been watching him relentlessly.

Your face read that you had been caught.

After quickly looking down at his shoes and seeing the godforsaken brightest color in the universe, you can’t help but grimace even more.

“They’re- they’re green. And they’re just shoes-“ You try to get out, but your words are cut off when you look back up and Heeseung’s eyes are smiling with him. For a second you see them glance at your lips, and just like that, you were done with this conversation.

“It was nice meeting you Heeseung, but i have to go.”

Your heart was pounding in your rib cage and it, accompanied with the empty feeling in your stomach, made you feel like you were going to be sick any minute now.

He was terrible; terribly attractive and he knew it.

Heeseung watches as you leave, a laugh leaving his pretty upturned lips.

“Catch you later!” He yells out, cupping his hands around his mouth to get his voice to carry over to your quickly fading figure.

“I love that song too!” He finishes, smiling like a love-sick idiot puppy, forgetting how to walk, learning how to see and trying to adapt.

He looked like a complete moron, stumbling in the halls and looking past strangers in order to continue to watch you go.

He didn’t know why.

But you lit him on fire and kept him feeling warm.

It was a small interaction—but one he’d never forget.

“Hyu-“

“Hyu!”

“HYUNG!” A loud voice rings out, taking Heeseung out of his love-coma.

He snaps his head back to his friend group and is suddenly aware of their presence altogether. Heesung can’t help his smile from falling as he realizes they just saw him do…well…all of that.

“You should’ve seen yourself-“ Jake laughs, running up to him with the others trailing; all with the most painfully teasing grins painted on their faces.

“Shut up.” Heeseung says pointedly, his blush looking worse on his ears and cheeks and along his nose bridge as he flatlines his face in an attempt to hide any and all emotion.

Safe to say, his deadpan doesn’t work.

“Oh my god! He looked so whipped- it reminds me of that one loser-in-love squidward meme!” Niki jokes, laughing with Sunoo.

Yes, even Sunoo was clowning on him; or at least laughing at the circus.

“Please be quiet.”

“Nah, but did you hear him?? wHaT COLoR aRE mY shOeS?!” Sunghoon mocks, slapping a giggling Jungwon’s shoulder.

As if one cue, Niki and Jake both mimic Heeseung’s lean forward which sends the group into a laughing mess. Jay grabs onto his stomach as he wheezes about, the whole group unable to hide their amusement. Heeseung sighs as he lets himself be ripped apart by his friends.

Whatever.

It wasn’t too serious.

As they continued on and dragged him about as they walked through the halls, he went nonchalantly, tuning them out to the best of his ability. With the way they yelled and loudly laughed, he wouldn’t be surprised if the whole school had learned of his little crush.

Still, he didn’t mind. He trudged along, staring down at his shoes with a slight smile. He liked you, and as far as he was concerned, you did too.

All signs pointed to yes—and they were painted a bright neon green.

The light had finally changed colors after waiting for so long; It was go time.

Heeseung was going to make you his.

♡︎ please do not plagarize, repost, copy or translate any of my works. thank you.

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headphones-ct-09978 · 11 months

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Sopapillas.

Miguel O’Hara X Reader one-shot

Summary: You and Miguel share a small moment.

A/N: I haven’t seen the movie yet, so this is based on what I could scavenge from various Marvel websites and some spoilers. This in and of itself holds no spoilers, but I’ll tag it under “Spoilers”.

Warnings: None. Maybe some really bad spanglish (I’m Mexican but my spanish is fucking AWFUL)

(If any of my spanish is cringe or bad, please please please, correct me and suggest phrases to me. I'm totally open to criticism here!)

. “Miguel? Eyo, ¿dónde está, man? I got you some sopapillas! I think some sugar could do you some good.”

You wandered around the large room where most of the tech was located. Various holographic screens were up, displaying what appeared to be some kind of surveillance system. Miguel was the one working tirelessly to find a way to…well you honestly had no idea. All you knew was that you were here, in this corner of the multiverse, with others like you. Apparently you were supposed to be a spider person, but something in your timeline went wrong, and you ended up there. You had no powers, but also no motivation to return to your former life. To be fair, going back to that absolute shit show of a life was the last thing on your to-do list. Instead, you settled for being a sort of assistant for Miguel. He usually had you run small errands, maybe keep tabs on certain things, or help with technical issues. You often wondered why, since Miguel seemed more than capable of doing everything himself. But, he did seem very overworked and just downright stressed out 24/7, so perhaps he did need the extra help.

You looked around, holding the styrofoam box in your hands. You were about to call out to him again, when a screen to your left suddenly flickered off, revealing the towering man behind it, causing you to jump. “GAH!!” you exclaimed, startled by his sudden appearance.

There were slight bags under his dark eyes and he looked as if he hadn’t slept in days (which was actually the case).

“Geez dude, you keep giving me heart attacks.” you said as you handed him the small box. “Got you a little something to help with the night shift.”

His brown eyes flicked down to what you were handing him and he blinked, his nose twitching in what could only be confusion or exhaustion. After a moment he sighed and took the box. “Thanks.” he mumbled before opening the box, grabbing a sopapilla and biting it. You caught a glimpse of his fangs, which made you shiver. ‘Dioses, those things look freaky.’ you thought.

“Did you double check that timeline I told you to investigate?” Miguel cocked an eyebrow at you, his eyes regarding inquisitively. You nodded. “Sí,todo bien. I triple checked too.”

You waited for a snarky remark about something or other, or for him to suddenly get annoyed by something, but nothing happened. Instead, he just stared at the screen to your right. You turned and saw…another version of yourself. You, the you in the video, were at a party it seemed. You were dancing and laughing, looking happier than you’ve ever felt.

“When is that?” you asked, pointing to the holographic display, the orange glow of the screen reflecting off the gold wrist cuff you wore.

“It’s apparently you in earth-3499, pre-serum you.” he said before taking another bite of his snack.

“Pre-serum? I don’t get bitten?”

“Nope,” he wiped some sugar granules off his bottom lip with his thumb, and licked the rest off. He put the box down on the consol beside him and brushed his hands off. “You, in this canon universe, were injected with this serum that combined the original super-soldier serum paired with an experimental serum that had both spider DNA and some other experimental tech.”

I cringed. “Oh no, not the nano robot thingies from earth-7569.”

“Nah, it’s something else.” He turned the screen off and leaned against the consol. He nodded to you, beckoning for you to join him up on the consol platform. You hurried up the steps and joined him. Beside him, you could clearly notice the size difference, realizing how tall he was. You glanced at him and leaned against the black console as well.

“¿Qué pasa, hombre? No eres tú mismo. Dime, ¿qué te molesta?”

Unlike most of the spider people around, he seemed more relaxed around you. He shared things with you, usually about his family. You couldn’t fathom why, but you consider yourself lucky to at least be in this man’s good graces.

He looked at you, curiously, brows furrowed as if he was trying to solve a puzzle.

“¿Por qué no quieres volver? Tenías una vida, una familia, cosas que la mayoría de nosotros luchamos por recuperar…”

You started to fidget with the sleeve of your jacket. “No sé... Supongo que mi vida canónica no fue tan... genial como la mayoría supondría.”

Miguel placed a hand on your shoulder, in a consoling manner. You continued, “No significa que no los ayudaré a todos, simplemente no me siento obligado a volver a mi antigua vida.”

He nodded. He was about to say something else when another screen popped up with a new developing timeline. He swiveled his head, and watched as the events unfolded. He groaned in annoyance. “Oh great, what now, another canon fuck up?”

As you both watched the timeline thingy, you unflinchingly watched as the spider-person on the screen got hit by a train.

“Canon?”

“Yep.”

“Anything I can do?”

He pointed to the box you had given. “You get yourself something to eat. I don’t want you hangry tonight.”

You scoffed playfully. “You’re one to talk.”

He shot you a miffed glare and threw the box at you, which you caught with ease. You chuckled, both out of unease and nervousness. “¡Que era una broma! ¡Solo una broma!”

“Uh huh, yeah, sure.” he said, sounding unimpressed.

You chuckled to yourself as you left the room. Had you turned around, you would’ve seen him shake his head and allow a small smile to grace his lips. “You’re a pain in the ass.” he mumbled.

-end-

#miguel o'hara #spiderman-2099 #Miguel O'Hara x reader #one shot #Miguel O'Hara #across the spiderverse #MCU #marvel mcu #mcu fic

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suzukiblu · 6 months

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I am gonna take the month off from doing daily polls, I think, and concentrate on writing a thing for NaNoWriMo. Not that I won't be writing anything else, I will definitely be writing other things, just I'm gonna make a NaNo project my priority.

Buuuuut due to my current hyperfixations being what they are, I am absolutely gonna make that NaNo project a DC fic, haha. I'm just not sure which idea I wanna go for, so here's some elevator pitches and a poll for y'all to help me decide!

(not guaranteeing I'll write the winner, just I'm gonna use the poll rankings to help me decide which one to try for, if that makes sense)

elevator pitches:

de-aged Kon + the Lane-Kent family

Kon gets magically de-aged to ten years old and Clark and Lois and also-ten!Jon take them in for the duration. Featuring Clark being an oblivious dad, self-discovery enby!Kon, and adorable little-kid crushes on various Robins from various Superboys. Also featuring Consequences and the results thereof.

Jazz and Jason go to Arkham for very different reasons and in very different ways

Jazz Fenton just got hired at Arkham Asylum and everyone keeps saying that the Red Hood is an incredibly difficult patient to work with, but she's more concerned with why no one's been feeding this starving baby halfa the ectoplasm he needs to LIVE. Featuring Jazz smuggling in said ectoplasm, half-feral Jason just delirious enough from hunger to unthinkingly drink the Lazarus water this doctor is pushing on him, and all the complicated shit that happens after that.

Kon is too trans for this pregnancy shit

Closeted!Kon accidentally gets knocked up by a random hookup and now has to explain his gender identity to everyone he knows and also have a baby while NOT explaining his sex life to either the Kents or Smallville. Featuring fake baby daddy Bart, awkward but trying his best Clark, and Tim and Cassie not understanding why Kon and Bart didn't tell them they were sleeping together.

the one where Clark is trans but Kon isn't, and no one actually knows this

Clark is a trans man and Kon is not, but some assumptions have been made by the rest of the world. Featuring Kon's constant escalating internal crisises, Young Justice and Cadmus making some understandable mistakes while trying to respect and validate "him", and Match accidentally being the one true ally for his cister.

Krypton lives and Kara Zor-El did not sign up for this

Kryptonian diplomat Kal-El goes to Earth and gets cloned about it, and somehow Kara is now stuck babysitting her baby cousin's teenage clones back on Krypton while said baby cousin is busy arguing with the council about how said teenage clones should be granted sanctuary and Kryptonian citizenship. Featuring Kon and Match wanting their superpowers back and not understanding why no one wants them to be weapons anymore, accidental mom General Kara Zor-El, and pretty young thing Lena Luthor wearing increasingly weaponized business formal to these intergalactic custody hearings.

obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU

Early-days YJ Tim finds out that Superboy is working for and LIVING in a lab that once tried to mind control him and does the rational thing about it, which is to go "meet" him as Tim Drake and convince him to let him buy him an apartment and pay for his entire life. Featuring accidental sugar daddy Tim, very willing sugar baby Kon, and Clark being extremely stressed about the "daddy" Kon hasn't told him the actual name of.

the Gotham Kid

Cadmus successfully copied Superman's memories into the Kid when they made him, and post-Engine City the Kid runs away from being Superboy so as not to risk any supervillains finding out about said memories and hurting any of the people in them. Featuring being a homeless superpowered teenager in Gotham, meeting a very angry dead Robin and a very cute alive one, and keeping your mouth shut just to make sure there's no risk of Superman ever hearing your voice and finding you.

YJ den mom Black Zero

Kon successfully drags Black Zero back to his own reality for rehabilitation, the responsible adults there all realize they can't ethically dump him in the Phantom Zone for interdimensional crimes they only know of through hearsay, Kon doesn't see the problem with this, and Red Tornado did not ask for a reality-conquering coworker but now he's got one. Featuring Harm regretting all of his life choices, a very pissed-off superclone fistfighting Doug Side, and if anything ever happens to Young Justice, Black Zero will destroy this entire reality and then himself.

YJ packs up and gets pupped

Stray!Kon presents as an omega and doesn't know what to do about it, and Young Justice decides the obvious solution is to pack up but also accidentally knocks him up with an entire litter in the process because whoops, apparently Kryptonian-human hybrids ARE fertile after all. Featuring the comedy of errors that is every single adult in their lives not being told what's going on except for Max and Red Tornado, because obviously Max and Red Tornado, and also YJ setting up a secret identity for Kon and him discovering he kind of likes it.

"something I will supply in the replies!!"

Legit, friends, make your pitches, I am both actively listening and easily influenced.

#rinpoll #omegaverse

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queers-gambit · 2 years

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Dating Eddie Munson HC [part two]

pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

note: can't get this boy outta my head, so, here's a few other headcanons about boyfriend!Eddie Munson.

warnings: cursing, female descriptions / pronouns (i think), this one's pretty tame. still proceed with maturity.

• you cannot convince me this boy doesn't, like, do everything in his power to put a smile on your face. cracking a (bad) joke, pulling a funny face, or acting like a klutz just to see that smile on your face.

• Eddie writes poems for you. maybe not full songs (even though a few have been about you) but he likes to write you actual poetry. it was the one unit he excelled in during English because he had an array of poems at his disposal.

• some poems were left in a journal, some on scrap pieces of paper then taped on his dresser's mirror, others written to you and sent in a letter.

• this man is big on hand-written letters. you like to read? he likes to write? it fucking works for you!! he'll write you a letter for anything, too.

• bullies got him fucked up? he was writing a letter to you that he might not send for weeks because he's still adding to it. it's therapeutic. and it's not that he's not telling you when things happen but it's sometimes hard to verbalize everything. so, he writes and one day, he'll slip it to you, "you don't have to respond to it, but I want you to know these things."

• and later that evening after you've read the letter, you're at his trailer, and crawling into his lap. he might be sitting on the couch because Wayne's at work already, hands holding your thighs and up to your hips as your hands smooth his hair back, off his face.

• and you'd tell him, "I love it when you're open with me. and I want you to know, your feelings are safe with me, however you need to express them." and all sorts of reassuring things, because you didn't want to offer too much sympathy because he didn't want pity, but instead assurance that his feelings are valid, and safe.

• but he sends you letters for other reasons, too! he doesn't need much of a reason to pick up a pen.

• you save each one. i don't need to explain this, right?

• he gifts you a silver ring of your own; maybe gets you one for every year you're together. but that doesn't stop you from stealing his on the occasion, let's be clear on that.

• because in my head, Eddie doesn't do short-term. he's in it for the long term, so, he likes to go all out for anniversary's. hence the rings.

• and he loves seeing your style and his meshed together in your outfits, remember? seeing you in some ripped jeans, one of his shirts? hair done, make-up poppin', nails manicured, with - oh - what's those? shining silver rings he got you? he might swoon a little.

• and holding hands when you're wearing your rings isn't 100% comfortable at first but you both get used to it. and he even might start to fiddle with your rings sometimes, too; either when anxious or just lost in thought, he'll gently spin one of your rings around your finger.

• skin to skin contact is still a must, but laying face-to-face while gently petting over his face as if to map out his features is just soul-soothing for the both of you. "everything's quiet when I'm with you," you tell him softly, voice barely above a whisper.

• and he smiles lightly, "what do you mean, quiet, sweetheart?"

• "everything in my head, all the bullshit going on in the world," you sigh as you trace over his chest tattoo, "it's quiet when I'm with you. everything's just... so much better with you, baby."

• ah, man - he melts. you hear me? he melts. he can't help but bring you in closer to press an excited kiss to your lips. and when he pulls back, he takes only a nano-second before he's kissing you again, and again.

• because he's elated to hear those words. and you make note of that by making it a habit to reassure him of his place in your life. his insecurities run deep but he's making real progress on that because you take deep satisfaction in assuring him of your love.

• I know I said stoner!boyfriend Eddie lets you paint his nails, but can we agree that boyfriend!Eddie in general will do that? great - so, you like to paint your nails, right? and sometimes, you can't choose a color and Eddie thinks it's really cute when you get that concentrated look on your face while trying to get an even coat.

• so, he doesn't mind you painting his fingernails. he'll often have to decide the color for you because you "just can't!"

• he might try his hand out with painting your nails, too. look, Eddie can get a few tattoo sketches down, why can't he master nail art?

• don't tell anyone but he definitely has a shoe box full of photos of you guys. he got a polaroid camera when you started dating and he tries to take at least one photo every date. it's a nice homage to your relationship.

• he leaves the camera in his car so he doesn't forget it. plus, he has his own personal collection of pictures of you in his passenger seat, so, win-win. oh, there goes my heart.

• when he's missing you or after you guys have a fight, he looks through that photo box. and oh, look! he's writing you another letter! he's a simp and my mind can't be changed.

• your heart gets warm when he calls you sweetheart. you're used to him calling you baby, and don't get me wrong, it's adorable. but when he drops sweetheart in lieu of your name, you're the one melting a little.

• and you're both always holding hands or your arm's around the others shoulders. like, constantly. he's not overly adamant on PDA but that boy doesn't feel right if you're close by and he's not touching you.

• there's a height difference. and he likes to pick on you for that. he's lanky, so let's say he's taller than you; and he never, ever lets you forget it. you'll try to reach something in the cabinet above the stove while you're cooking at your house, and here comes Eddie!

• he'd let one hand move around your waist to squeeze you into his side while the other grabbed whatever you needed, "woah there, small fry, careful! you might knock yourself over stretchin' like that."

• "you think you're funny, don't you?"

• but he is funny, the little shit. his jokes are mostly corny but because you guys have history, there's a lot of inside jokes that make you both go lightheaded from laughter.

• Eddie has social anxiety that's hidden behind this macho bravado but you can tell when he's feeling uneasy.

• it's sometimes easier to just slid your hand into his and mutter quietly, "squeeze my hand if you wanna go."

• you were always quick to come up with some excuse for your abrupt departure the moment you felt him squeeze your hand. it ranged from some excuse over dinner with your mom, maybe you have a sibling that needs picked up somewhere, or there's some extended family member coming into town. no matter what, when he squeezes, you're getting him out of there.

• when the anxiety passes, he's realizing he's dating his best friend and silently thanks God because you both just read each other. you both just get it.

• he calls you his little problem solver because it doesn't matter what's going on or what he's feeling, he can turn to you. confide in you. and you know it goes both ways because he's there for you no matter what.

• when you're sick, good luck getting Eddie to go to school. you'll phone him early in the morning and tell him your symptoms before insisting you'd just stay in bed; but he's already packing a bag to hang with you for the day.

• he'd come over with snacks and Gatorade (or something) because your parents already left for work. he doesn't care if he'll get sick, too; he'll crawl in bed with you and gently massage your scalp.

• Eddie doesn't like going to school if you're not there, so, he doesn't mind playing hookie. and he gets you anything you need because he's a sweetheart like that.

• yeah, you like forehead kisses - but he likes kissing your forehead.

• mixtapes! mixtapes! mixtapes! Eddie makes you mixtapes! just imagine he's out somewhere and finds himself bobbing his head along to some song, specifically asks for the name, so later, he adds it to a mixtape 'cause he thinks you'll like it, too.

• look, sometimes his emotions get the better of him and he communicates through music.

• so, sometimes, after a fight, you'll find a cassette tape left in your mailbox when you collect the mail that day. you know it's from him without a signature, but there's usually a scribbled note on the front of the case.

• I'm sorry for what I said. I hope this can help?

• and you listen to it all night. he'll come to pick you up in the morning for school and feel anxious you wouldn't want to see him, but just as he comes to a halt, you're heading out your door.

• you spend the morning talking about whatever upset the both of you before telling him how the music made you feel. he'll tell you what the songs made him feel, and that's how you sort through your feelings over certain fights.

• we know he kills the spiders but let's face it - you probably kill the rest of the creepy crawlies. you just don't do spiders... so, he's brave for the both of you, so as long as you're brave the other times and handle other bugs.

• Eddie stops to pet dogs. (so, you both stop when you're together).

• you like to bake. and Eddie likes your creations, so, he sometimes lets you rope him into helping if you promise him the first few bites of baked goods. he can burn water but under your eye, he actually kinda likes being in the kitchen - but he likes making you sweat, so, he'll continue to give you a hard time.

• younger siblings adore him. they think Eddie's funny, and he does those goofy voices when playing with them or reading them some story. Eddie doesn't mind getting down in the dirt with them. they want him to sit next to them at dinner.

• older siblings don't approve at first but they come around because let's face it, he tries to charm them since he's intimidated by them. and they think his efforts are cute that they cut him some slack.

• does Eddie let you braid his hair? only after a joint.

• maybe you first meet 'cause you're looking for a dealer.

• maybe you meet in middle school.

• maybe you meet his first senior year.

• maybe because it's both of your favorite holiday, you meet at a halloween event wearing either accidental matching costumes (so you kinda have to hang out all night and get to know the cutie) or you're wearing perfectly opposite costumes. so, again, how can you not hang out with him all night? it was fate, you were sure of it.

• or maybe you meet because you used to babysit Mike and / or Dustin, promising to give them a ride home after Hellfire and there's Eddie, waiting to make sure the newest members get in their ride. looking too cool for school as he leans on the side of the building, and he's not as smooth talking as he wants to be but you think he's still endearing.

• look, how common was it for Eddie to find you in his hoodie? pretty freaking common. they smelled like him and he started using that fabric softener you told him about that made the material soft, so, he was used to you entering his room, dropping your belongings, and snuggling your way into a hoodie.

• Eddie is the type of boyfriend that when you pass by in the lunch room, he's wrapping his arms around your waist to tug you into his lap; greeting you with kisses on the cheek. no matter if he saw you that morning, or an hour ago, he's just happy to see you.

• all right, so, about his smell. Eddie is overly conscious about his smell - so, daily showers. and he uses that cologne you complimented because his clothes smell like cigarette and weed smoke, and together, you think it smells kinda like home. when your nose is pressed to his skin, you don't really notice the smoke smell.

• you like both coffee and tea, so, Eddie learns how to make your favorite of both. he's cute. very, very cute.

• okay, so, he likes scary movies. he jumps at all the jump scares but he laughs after. you don't mind scary movies because it's an excuse to sit in Eddie's lap and press your nose into his neck.

• man, throw a blanket across across you fools and you'll actually fall asleep during a horror movie.

• okay, when you go out to eat, you both take turns ordering something neither of you have tried before. it's a simple way for you both to try new things and push your comfort bounds.

• he goes with you when you get your first tattoo, too. holds your hand, reassures you that you're doing great, has an opened bottle of water for you, and takes peaks as the tattoo progresses. he'd make cute jokes to distract you when you'd wince in annoyed pain.

• oh, man, the dates are just cute. they're not always conventional but you both look for any excuse to hang out.

• he likes to pinch your jaw and lift your attention up to your eyes (that height difference, man). then he'd kiss you and mutter, "don't know what I did to deserve you, but good job me."

• and yeah, I mentioned it before, but he's close with your family. like, to the point when you need an extra team member for family game night, Eddie's rolling in with more flowers for your Mom and maybe a pack of candy for your sibling(s).

• let's just imagine Eddie at family meals please. he's offering to fill your plate when the peas come your way, refilling your Mom's wine glass, and teasingly taking your Dad's side during arguments.

• he'd be invited to the Christmas vacation! and he'd blush because wow - your family really accepts him. he has heart eyes the whole time.

• he's the type that takes whatever is in your hands to hold for you, too. backpack, binders, shopping bags, (sometimes) your purse, that one time he came into your job and saw you moving an inventory box - he swooped in and took it from you.

• "what're you doin' movin' something this heavy, princess? I got it, I got it."

• this boy melts when your nails rake over his back, shoulders, and obviously his scalp.

• and Eddie's the type to kiss you at any given opportunity. we know he reminds you he loves you constantly but he also looks for any opening to kiss you.

• when he gets angry, he worries that he's scared you. you never are, and you tell him as such, but he still knows that he can get intense. so, he'd take some time to just be in your presence (usually with his hands somewhere on you) before he's trying to explain why he had the kind of reaction he did.

• you appreciated the communication, so, you listened and tried to understand, empathize. your job isn't to judge him.

• he often uses his fingers to press into your cheeks. he likes to poke and hold them, sometimes squeezing to pucker your lips. oh, man, this boy is almost always touching you - it's so cute. damn it.

• Eddie's perfect, okay? cool.

requesting rules and masterlist

ST masterlist

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson imagine #stranger things season 4 #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things headcanon #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson concept #eddie munson fanfic

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