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requiemforthepoets · 2 months ago

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singapore ⟢ FA14

⟢ part two of this time, i’ll love you much better series

𖤓 series masterlist ⟢ playlist ⟢ part three ☽

PAIRING: fernando alonso x ex-wife!reader

SUMMARY: after twelve long years, sofia finally got the chance to meet you, and experienced what it was like to feel the love of a mother.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect to the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, the parent trap inspo + plot, named side characters (except reader), twins switching places, talk of divorce, and minor typographical errors.

WORD COUNT: 9.2k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: part 2! this whole chapter focuses on you and sofia’s bonding or sofia getting to know you more. tag list is open for this series, just leave a comment or you can message me directly. your reblogs and comments are highly appreciated. hope you’ll enjoy this second part of the series!

The car smoothly glided down the driveway, passing rows of stately mansions in Nassim Road, each grander than the last. Sofia leaned her head against the window, her heart pounding as the cityscape of Singapore blurred by, until the sleek black car came to a halt in front of a mansion that seemed to belong more to a dream than reality. The house stood tall, regal, with sprawling gardens that framed the entrance like something straight out of a fairytale. Tall columns stretched up toward the sky, and the front door gleamed in the afternoon light, welcoming her, or rather, welcoming Jullianna, home.

Sofia blinked, taking it all in. She could not help but marvel in awe at the elegance of the estate, the manicured lawns, and the sense of quiet luxury that surrounded it. It was overwhelming in the best way, yet also strangely so foreign. This was your world, and it felt like she was about to step into an unfamiliar territory, something foreign that did not quite belong to her, yet it was.

The driver opened the door, and Sofia slid out, her fingers brushing the sleek fabric of her outfit as she caught sight of Martin, the major-domo that she instantly recognized in Jullianna’s chart, was already making his way to the trunk. He was swift and efficient, unloading her luggage with precision. As he lifted her suitcase, Sofia noticed the faint look of recognition on his face, though it was quickly masked with a polite smile as he greeted her.

“Welcome home, Miss Jullianna.” Martin said, tone respectful but warm.

“Thank you.” Sofia replied, trying her best to keep her voice steady, mimicking Jullianna’s mannerisms as best as she could.

The name Jullianna sounded so foreign in her mouth, but it was becoming natural as she slipped further into the role. Her heart pounded in her chest as she followed Martin up the entrance, Sofia’s gaze lingering on the ornate details of the house. The front steps were wide, leading up to an intricately carved door, and as Sofia entered, she could almost feel the weight of all the eyes that must have admired this mansion in the past. With each step she felt like it carried her close to something significant—closer to you.

Martin opened the door smoothly, and Sofia stepped inside. The foyer before her was vast and sun-filled, with high ceilings that seemed to stretch endlessly. Marble floors gleamed beneath her feet, their polished surface reflecting the soft light that poured in through large windows. Sofia paused for a moment to take in the grandeur of it all, the house felt immense, each corner more beautiful than the last. There were towering columns lining the space, delicate chandeliers hanging overhead, their crystal pendants glinting as they caught the sunlight.

Sofia’s eyes were drawn to the walls, which were adorned with expertly framed photographs, each one carefully placed to tell a story of the family within. Her breath caught as she saw the portraits of Jullianna, some with her as a little girl, others of her dressed in elegant gowns at galas, always smiling, and always poised. Then there were the more professional shots—covers of Tatler Asia, Harper’s Bazaar, and Vogue, with you gracing the glossy pages, each picture exuding an effortless grace.

But the one that caught her attention the most was the grand portrait in the center of the room. It was you and Jullianna, a moment frozen in time, with the both of you dressed in high-end fashion, your faces glowing with affection. Sofia couldn’t help but stare at it, her eyes tracing the lines of your face, and with how you held Jullianna close, the bond between you was very evident, and it made her chest tighten.

Sofia was so lost in thought, absorbing these fragments of life she had never lived, that she didn’t hear the sound of footsteps descending the grand staircase behind her.

“Jullianna!” Your voice called out, warm and delighted.

Sofia froze for a moment, the sound of her name—Jullianna’s name, breaking through her thoughts. She turned around, and there you were, walking down the marble staircase with a radiant smile on your face.

The sight of you stunned Sofia. You were more beautiful than any photograph could have captured. Graceful and poised, yet full of life, you seemed almost ethereal as the sunlight streaming through the windows cast a soft glow around you. Sofia’s breath caught in her throat as tears immediately pricked her eyes. She could not believe it, she was finally seeing you—not just in the photos, or stories that Jullianna had shared, but in real life. In the flesh.

“Oh, my darling girl!” You said, brimming with emotions, with outstretched arms as you hurried towards her.

Sofia moved toward you instinctively, meeting you halfway as you enveloped her in a warm hug. The moment your arms wrapped around her, she felt her resolve begin to crumble. She blinked rapidly, but it was no use. The tears were already spilling down her cheeks.

“I missed you so much.” Sofia whispered, her voice trembling as she buried her face in your shoulder.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to get a good look at her, and your expression shifted from happiness to surprise as you took in her brand new appearance. Your hands rested gently on her shoulders as you studied her closely.

“Your hair,” you said, eyes wide with astonishment. “It’s short! It looks so good on you!”

“I met someone at camp who cuts hair,” she said, managing a watery smile, her hand brushing self-consciously over the ends of her freshly cropped hair. “Do you hate it?”

“Hate it?” You repeated, shaking your head with a laugh. “Darling, it suits you beautifully. I think it makes you look so grown-up.”

“Wait a second,” you leaned in closer, inspecting her ears. “Are those piercings I see? Since when?”

Sofia’s fingers instinctively flew to her earlobes, which were now adorned with delicate studs. “Um, it was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing at camp. Do you hate those?”

You laughed softly, shaking your head again. “No, no. It’s just my Jullianna, afraid of needles? I can’t believe you went through with it.”

“No more surprises, I promise.” She chuckled nervously, feeling the weight of your gaze as you took her in, still marveling at the changes.

But your expression softened as you noticed the tears still glistening in her eyes. You knelt down to her level, cupping Sofia’s face gently in your hands.

“What’s wrong, my love?” You asked, your voice low and soothing. With your thumbs, you wiped away a stray tear that had slipped down her cheek. “Why are you crying?”

Sofia’s bottom lip trembled slightly, and for a moment, she hesitated, really unsure how to explain the emotions surging within her.

“It’s just…happy tears,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I missed you so much. It feels like it’s been forever.”

“Oh, my sweet girl.” You murmured, pulling her close again, and pressing a tender kiss to her temple. “I missed you too. But you’re home now, and that’s all that matters.”

Sofia clung to you tightly, her eyes closed as she tried to commit the moment to memory. For so long, she had dreamed about this, what it would be like to meet you, to feel your embrace. Now that it was finally happening, it felt both overwhelming and comforting all at once. You stood up and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Come, let’s sit and catch up. I want to hear all about camp.” You said, tone full of curiosity and warmth.

You and Sofia sat together in the sun-dappled room, it is the room where you always retreat to whenever you need time to breathe when things tend to get overwhelming. The warm light was spilling through the large bay windows and casting a soft glow over the space. Sofia, seated on the plush velvet armchair across from you, couldn’t help but marvel at how effortlessly elegant everything was, from the carefully arranged floral centerpieces to the soft ticking of the antique clock on the mantel. This was the kind of life she had only seen in movies, and now, she was here, living it, even if just for a little while.

You poured tea into a delicate porcelain cup, the soft clinking of the silver spoon against the cup filling the air as you stirred in a bit of honey.

“So, tell me, darling,” you began, voice soft yet curious. “How was summer camp, did you enjoy it as much as you hoped you would?”

“I loved it,” Sofia said with a radiant smile that mirrored Jullianna’s perfectly. “It was so much fun. I didn’t think I’d like it this much, but it was even better that I expected.”

You leaned forward slightly, your eyes lighting up with relief and excitement. “Oh, I’m so glad to hear that! I was a little worried, you know. It was your first time going away for so long, and I wasn’t sure how you would manage being away from home.”

Sofia nodded, playing along so effortlessly. “Well, it was definitely a bit scary at first, but everyone was so welcoming. I made a lot of friends.”

“Did you like everyone there?” You asked, your tone gently probing.

“Yes, everyone was really really nice,” she said, voice laced with enthusiasm. “I even met a girl, she’s from Spain.”

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head slightly. “Spain? My goodness, that’s quite far. I hope her parents didn’t mind sending her all the way there for camp.”

“Oh, they didn’t mind,” she assured you quickly. “She’s been going to Camp Walden since she was ten, so it’s kind of like a tradition for her.”

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Since she was ten? That’s incredible! She must really love it there.”

“She does,” Sofia replied, nodding earnestly. “She told me all about how much she looks forward to it every year. She even showed me some pictures from past summers, she’s made so many memories there.”

You smiled, clearly touched by the story. “That’s wonderful, Lia. You know, I’m so happy you made such a lovely friend. It sounds like camp was a great experience for you.”

Sofia felt a pang of guilt in her chest but quickly pushed it aside. She could feel your pride in her, or rather, in Jullianna—and she did not want to ruin this moment.

“It really was,” she said softly, looking down at her hands. “Thank you for letting me go. I know you were hesitant in sending me to summer camp, but it was one of the best memories that I’ve made.”

“I’m really proud of you, darling,” you said, voice warm and full of affection, and reaching out, placing a gentle hand over hers. “It’s not always easy to try something new, especially something that takes you out of your comfort zone. But look at you! You’ve come back with wonderful stories and new friends. I’m so glad I agreed on Camp Walden, it sounds like it was just what you needed.”

Her heart swelled at your words. It was strange, hearing you call her darling, feeling the warmth of your hand over hers. Sofia had never experienced this before, this maternal tenderness, yeah sure, she always had a nanny growing up, but this one was different, and it made her feel a little sad. She wanted to soak in every moment, to etch every word and gesture into her memory.

“Thanks, Mama,” she said quietly, the word feeling foreign yet oddly right on her tongue. She looked up at you, he eyes glistening with emotion. “That really means a lot.”

You tilted your head, studying her for a moment, and asked her gently. “Are you alright, sweetheart? You seem…a little emotional.”

“I’m just…happy,” she admitted, swallowing hard, willing herself not to cry. “It’s been a while since I felt this happy.”

“Oh, my love,” you murmured as you squeezed her hand reassuringly. “That’s all I ever want for you, to be happy, and if camp helped you find a little more of that, then I couldn’t be more thrilled.”

Sofia smiled through the tears that threatened to spill over. For the first time in her life, she felt what it was like to truly have a mother, and she wanted to hold on to this feeling forever.

“I don’t want this to end.” she whispered to herself, the words echoing in her mind like a quiet prayer.

“Are you sure you’re really okay, darling?” You asked again, tone laced with concern.

“I’m okay,” Sofia said, her voice steady this time. “Really. I just missed you so much.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” you said softly, pulling her into a warm embrace. The simplicity of her words caught you off guard. “I missed you too. More than you can imagine.”

As Sofia rested her head against your shoulder, she closed her eyes, wishing this moment could stretch on forever. For the first time, she felt like she truly belonged.

The quiet rhythm of the room settled over you, you both sat in the living room, the warm silence punctuated by the occasional rustle of the breeze brushing against the windows. For you, these silences were familiar. Jullianna—your Jullianna, often fell into these comfortable quiet moments, lost in thought or simply content to sit beside you.

But this silence was different for Sofia. She found herself reveling in it, soaking up the warmth of a moment she had longed for her entire life. She shifted slightly in her seat, glancing toward you.

“Have you ever been to Spain, Mama?” She asked suddenly, he voice soft but curious.

“Spain?” You repeated, the word rolling off your tongue with an air of nostalgia you did not intend to show.

A rush of memories, long buried, flooded back without any warning—memories of warm Spanish evenings, laughter mingled with the crash of waves, and Fernando’s voice, full of excitement as he guided you through his homeland. You pushed the thoughts away as quickly as they came, sitting a little straighter in your seat.

“Yes. A long time ago, before you were born.” You said quickly, tone even, and offering a small smile. “Why do you ask?”

She hesitated for a moment, studying your face. Sofia could see the flicker of something, something wistful, maybe even a little painful, but she decided not to push.

“I was just curious.” She said simply, giving a small shrug.

“Well,” you said, your tone lightened as you leaned forward slightly. “Speaking of things from the past, there’s something we need to talk about that’s coming up very soon—your birthday!”

“My birthday?” She echoed, tilting her head. She was caught off guard by the sudden shift in the conversation. “But it’s still a month away.”

“Exactly!” You replied with a soft laugh, your eyes sparkling with excitement. “It’s still a month away, which means we need to start planning now. You know how quickly the days go by, and I want it to be perfect for you. Whatever you want to do, it’s your day, and we’ll make it happen.”

Sofia blinked again, her heart suddenly heavy with an unfamiliar ache. The way you spoke, with such earnestness and love, caught her off guard. She was not used to this—this kind of anticipation, this kind of care. She glanced down at her hands, fiddling nervously with the hem of her clothes.

“I…I don’t know yet,” she admitted quietly. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” you said softly. “You don’t have to decide right now. But I want you to know that whatever you want, we’ll make it happen. A party, a quiet day just for the two of us, a trip, just whatever your heart desires. It’s your special day, and I want you to enjoy it.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “That means a lot.”

You squeezed her hand gently, your thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Of course, darling. You’re my world, and I want to celebrate every moment we have together. Just let me know when you’ve decided, okay?”

“I will, Mama.” Sofia whispered.

True to your word, you had cleared your schedule for the day to make time for Sofia, but you could not cancel this one commitment. As you gathered your things by the foyer, you turned to Sofia with a smile.

“I really tried to cancel this too, but it’s for Tatler Asia, and they were so insistent. I hope you don’t mind tagging along.” You said warmly.

Sofia shook her hear quickly, her face lighting up. “Are you kidding? Of course I’d love to come, Mama.”

You raised an eyebrow, laughing softly. “Well, I’m glad you’re excited. Let’s make it a fun day, then. Just us girls.”

The family driver pulled up to the front, and soon the two of you were on your way to the photoshoot venue. The drive to the venue was quiet but comfortable, with the air filled with the unspoken warmth of having reconnected. Sofia gazed out of the window, watching the city buzz with life, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She still could not believe she was here, sitting beside you, going with you to a real photoshoot.

This was a world she had never seen before, and the excitement bubbled inside her like a secret she could not contain. As the car pulled up to the venue, Sofia’s eye widened at the sight of the gran building in front of her. The polished exterior gleamed in the afternoon sun, and the large glass doors reflected the bustling activity inside. Everything felt so glamorous, so different from her life in Spain. She glanced over at you as you instructed the family driver.

“Thank you, James,” you said with a polite smile. “You can head home now. We’ll be walking around the city right after and taking the taxi home later.”

James nodded and gave you a small bow before driving off. Sofia looked at you with a mix of Surprise and curiosity.

“We’re walking?” She asked, voice tinged with amusement.

“Sometimes, it’s nice to just walk. No schedules, no rush, just taking in the beauty the city has to offer.” You smiled warmly at her. Sofia nodded, her heart swelling at how grounded and graceful you were despite your glamorous life.

Inside, the studio was a hive of activity. The smell of hairspray and perfume hung in the air, blending with the faint hum of conversation and occasional clutter of equipment. Staff members hurried past, some carrying garment bags, others adjusting camera gears. The energy was infectious, and Sofia found herself wide-eyed, taking in every detail. When you stepped inside, a stylist approached you, clipboard in hand.

“You’re just in time,” she said, ushering you towards the back. “We’re ready for you in hair and makeup.”

You glanced at Sofia, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, leading her through the bustling crowd. “Come with me.”

In the makeup area, you settled into a high-backed chair as a team of stylists swarmed around you, discussing everything from your hair to the gown that you would be wearing for the photoshoot. Your assistant, a petite woman in her late 20s, with a sharp bob and an even sharper memory, appeared at your side, iPad in hand.

“Good day,” she greeted with a bright smile. “You look stunning already, as always.”

“Good day, Camille,” you replied, returning her smile. “Let’s hear it, what does the rest of my week look like?”

Camille began rattling off your schedule, her tone brisk yet pleasant. “After today’s shoot, you’re free for the rest of the day. But tomorrow, you have fittings for the New York Fashion Week—Versace and Valentino. Thursday is the campaign shoot for Dior, followed by a meeting with YSL, and lastly, Saturday is the charity luncheon at the Ritz.”

As she spoke, Sofia listened intently, trying to absorb every little detail. Camille suddenly turned to her, her face lighting up at the sight of Sofia.

“And Jullianna! It’s so good to see you again,” Camille said warmly. “It’s been a while since you came along to one of these, I’ve missed having you around.”

Sofia blinked, like a deer caught in the headlights, but managed to recover quickly. She returned the smile, her mind racing.

So, Jullianna usually comes to these things?

“It’s good to see you too, Camille,” Sofia said, her voice steady. “I’ve missed coming with Mama. It’s been a very busy summer for me. You know, summer camp and all.”

Camille nodded, clearly pleased. “I’ve been told. Well, you’re always such a delight to have around. Your mom lights up even more when you’re here.”

Sofia nodded, unsure of how to respond but touched by the sentiment. “I’m happy to be back, honestly, and it wasn’t a lie.”

You glanced at Sofia through the mirror, noticing how she was quietly observing everything. “She was very excited to come with me today, I’m glad she’s back again.”

Camille smiled. “You two are always such a team.”

Sofia felt a pang in her chest at those words. She glanced down, her fingers brushing over the hem of her skirt as she tried to process the unexpected emotions rising within her.

You reached out and gently touched her arm. “Are you alright, darling?”

She looked up and nodded quickly, giving you a small smile. “I’m fine. Everything just feels so exciting.”

“I’m glad you’re here with me. It’s a little chaotic, but it’s also wonderful, isn’t it?” You smiled at her, eyes softening.

Sofia nodded again, her smiling growing. “It really is.”

The stylists gave your hair one last spritz of hairspray and made minor adjustments to the hem of your gown before stepping back. Your final look was stunning, and you took a moment to admire yourself in front of the floor length mirror, running your hands gently down the shimmering fabric. Turning towards Sofia, you gave her a playful smile.

“So,” you said, spinning in place. “What do you think? Is it too much? Too over the top?”

“No way!” She exclaimed, her voice full of awe. “You look amazing, Mama! Really, really beautiful.”

You chuckled at her enthusiasm, stopping mid-spin to face her. “You sure? I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard.”

“Are you kidding? You look perfect!” Sofia said with conviction, her admiration shining through every word. She leaned forward in her seat, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “Seriously, you’re like…a queen of something.”

The photographer called out, signaling that the photoshoot was about to begin. You blew a quick kiss to Sofia before stepping into position. The backdrop was a blend of muted grays and soft metallics, designed to compliment your gown. As the lights were adjusted and the photographer gave instructions, Sofia watched you in complete fascination. Every pose you struck, every subtle shift in expression, left her star struck.

“She’s so so cool. I can't believe she’s my Mama.” She whispered to herself and smiled as she leaned back on her chair.

Halfway through the shoot, the photographer suggested a more candid, relaxed pose. You turned to Sofia, an idea sparking in your mind,

“Come here, sweetheart.” You said as you extended your hand to her.

Sofia blinked, pointing at herself. “Me? Now?”

“Yes, you!” You said with a laugh. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Hesitant but intrigued, Sofia stood up and approached you. She looked out of place in her casual outfit compared to your glamorous attire, but the contrast made the moment all the more genuine.

You placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her close, whispering softly. “Just be yourself, okay?”

The photographer, already adjusting his camera, grinned. “This is perfect! Just keep talking to each other, forget that the camera is even here.”

You started joking with Sofia, recounting a funny memory from one of your past photoshoots. Sofia couldn’t help but laugh, her nerves easing as she leaned into you. Before long, the two of you were caught up in an impromptu moment—laughing, smiling, and even pulling silly faces. At one point, you pretended to teach her how to pose, guiding her arm into an exaggerated fashion stance that made the both of you burst into laughter. The photographer snapped away, capturing every genuine smile.

“Beautiful!” He said, nodding approvingly. “Absolutely beautiful.”

When the session wrapped, you turned to the photographer, still holding Sofia close. “Can I request something? Could you email me all of these candid shots? I want them framed, every single one.”

“Of course,” the photographer replied, clearly charmed by the two of you. “I’ll make sure you get them by the end of the day.”

Sofia looked up at you, her face glowing. “You’re really going to frame them?”

“Absolutely,” you said without hesitation. “They’re perfect. I’ll put them right in the hallway with the rest of our photos. What do you think?”

She nodded eagerly, a rare lump forming in her throat. “I think that’s…really nice.”

You then changed back into your everyday clothes, a chic yet understated outfit that looked impossibly elegant. Before leaving, you took a moment to thank every member of the crew.

“Wonderful job, as always,” you said warmly. “I really appreciate all your hard work.”

“I’ll email you the final documents for the new endorsements this evening,” Camille said efficiently as she caught up with you. “And I’ll also send over your finalized schedule for the New York Fashion Week.”

“Thank you, Camille,” you replied and grabbed your things. “Let me know if something else comes up.”

The sun was warm but not overwhelming as you and Sofia strolled through the bustling streets in the afternoon towards Paragon. The city was alive with energy, cars humming, scent of fresh coffee wafting from nearby cafés, and the occasional breeze rustling through the trees that lined the sidewalks. You slipped your arms around Sofia’s shoulder, drawing her close as the two of you walked side by side.

“Mama,” she began hesitantly, “have you ever thought about getting married again?”

The question had caught you off guard, and you stopped mid-step, turning to face her with an incredulous expression.

“Now where did that come from?” You asked. Laughing lightly, though there was a hint of nervousness in your tone.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “You looked so beautiful in that gown during the photoshoot, it just made me wonder. I mean, you’d look amazing as a bride. Like, really really amazing.”

“Are you imagining me walking down the aisle again?” You teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Sofia hesitated, then ventured further. “Not exactly, but it also made me wonder what kind of gown you wore. You know, the first time.”

“Oh?” You said, raising a brow. “Why the curiosity about your father?”

“Because you’ve never really talked about him,” she said softly as she looked up at you. “Not once, and well, I guess I can’t help but wonder.”

You sighed, the weight of her question settling over you like a delicate cloud. Before you could answer, your eyes caught sight of a stunning dress displayed in a boutique window up ahead, its elegant silhouette shimmering under the soft glow of the lights. You instinctively reached out to tug Sofia’s arm, pointing towards the window.

“Oh, look at that dress,” you said, voice lighter as you momentarily shifted focus. “Isn’t it stunning?”

Sofia blinked at you, her question hanging in the air as you walked closer to the boutique window. She gave a small, exasperated sigh, realizing what you were doing.

“Mama,” she said firmly but respectfully, stopping you in your tracks. When you turned to face her, her expression was a mix of determination and understanding. “You can’t avoid the topic forever.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the look in her eyes stopped you. It was not confrontational or accusing, it was patient and curious. Sighing again, this time deeper, you nodded.

“Alright,” you relented, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “What do you want to know?”

“What was he like?” Sofia asked immediately, tone soft but eager. She already knew what Fernando is like, but she wanted to hear it coming from you.

“Well, he was a lovely man. Very lovely,” you said, lips curled into a small smile, nostalgic smile as you thought about him. “Charming in his own way. He had this…presence about him that could light up a room.”

“Did you meet him here? In Singapore?” Sofia pressed.

“No,” you said as you shook your head. “I met him in London, during the British Grand Prix in Silverstone.”

Sofia’s brows furrowed slightly in surprise. Grand Prix was basically her whole life. “The Grand Prix? What were you doing there?”

“Because of your grandpa,” you explained, “your grandpapa was one of the major sponsors of the race that year. He insisted I accompany him to the event, it wasn’t really my scene back then, but he had his reasons for wanting me there.”

Just then, you reached the doors of a quaint little café tucked away from the main bustle of Paragon. Its inviting atmosphere beckoned, and you instinctively led Sofia inside. The two of you found a cozy corner table near a window, the gentle hum of conversation and the soft clinking of cups creating a warm background noise.

Once seated, you ordered drinks, an iced latte for yourself and a hot chocolate for Sofia, a few pastries as well. The server left with a polite nod, and Sofia turned her full attention back to you, her curiosity far from satisfied.

“So,” she said, leaning her elbows on the table, her chin resting on her hands. “What happened next?”

You raised a brow at her, a small smile playing on your lips. “You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”

She grinned cheekily, shaking her head. “Not a chance.”

“Alright, alright,” you said, chuckling and shaking your head at her persistence. “It’s quite a story.”

Sofia leaned forward slightly, her excitement evident. “Take your time, Mama. I want to hear everything.”

Your drinks had already been served at your table, and the hum of the café enveloped you and Sofia as you settled comfortably into your chairs, the delicate aroma of the fresh pastries mingling with the scent of coffee. Your iced latte and her steaming hot chocolate sat untouched between you, but neither of you seemed to notice. The weight of your ongoing conversation carried a different kind of warmth, one that softened the atmosphere between you.

“It’s funny,” you began, the corners of your lips curling into a small smile, “I wasn’t even supposed to leave your grandpapa’s side. He made it very clear that day I was to stay in the paddock with him, but I got bored and decided to wander around, and somehow, I got lost.” You chuckled softly at the memory.

“You? Lost?” She asked, her eyes wide with amusement, and tone teasing but affectionate. “I thought you were always composed and knew your way around everywhere.”

“Oh, how I wish,” you replied with a laugh. “Silverstone is a maze, especially when it’s packed, and I didn’t know a single soul. I was looking around, trying to figure out where I was supposed to go, and then I bumped right into him.”

“Papa?” She asked, voice tinged with excitement.

You nodded. “Yes. I nearly knocked the drink he was holding out of his hand. I was so flustered, apologizing left and right, and he just stood there, smiling at me.”

“Smiling, huh.” She smiled, trying to picture the moment.

“Yes,” you said, your gaze softening. “That smile of his, it was so warm and easy going. He looked at me like we had known each other forever, and then he introduced himself, as if I didn’t already know who he was from the posters around the paddock.”

Sofia giggled, clearly amused. “What did you say? Did you fangirl or something?”

You shook your head, laughing at the thought. “No, no. I was too embarrassed to even react. I just said, ‘I’m so sorry,’ and tried to walk away, but he stopped me, asked me if I was lost, and when I said yes, he offered to help.”

Sofia tilted her head thoughtfully. “So, what happened next?”

“We spent the rest of the day together,” you said, tone quieter now as you trace the lid of your drink. “He showed me around, introduced me to some of his team, and even made sure I found your grandpapa again. But by the time he brought me back, I didn’t want the day to end.”

Sofia studied you for a moment, then asked. “Was it love at first sight?”

“I knew you’d ask me that someday, you cheeky little girl!” You laughed and gave her a knowing look. “But yes, it was indeed love at first sight.”

Sofia grinned, clearly delighted by your response. “Well, I mean I can’t blame you, Papa is very handsome.”

“He was more than just being a handsome man,” you admitted. “He was kind, charming, and so full of life. It was impossible not to be drawn to him.”

Sofia leaned her chin on her hand, watching you intently. “So, what happened after that? Did you live together?”

You nodded, your expression thoughtful. “Yes. Your Papa was from Spain, and after a few months of dating, we decided to take the next step. I made the biggest decision of my life, I moved to Spain to be with him.”

“Wow,” Sofia breathed, her eyes wide with admiration. “That’s huge. You just packed up and left?”

“Pretty much,” you replied with a soft laugh. “I uprooted my life. Wherever he went, I went. It wasn’t easy leaving everything behind—your grandpapa, and my friends, but it felt so right. Home wasn’t a place anymore, it was wherever he was.”

She hesitated for a moment before asking. “And then what?”

“Three days after I moved in with him, he proposed.” Your smile widened as you remembered.

“What?!” Sofia’s jaw dropped. “Three days?!” She was shocked, and unfamiliar with Fernando’s game.

You laughed, nodding. “Three days. He said he didn’t want to wait any longer, and honestly? Neither did I. We got married not long after that, and then, we had you.”

Sofia’s expression softened, and she looked down at her hot chocolate, stirring it absentmindedly. “That’s…amazing. It sounds like a complete fairytale.”

“It felt like one,” you admitted, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. “And you were the best part of it.”

All your life, you always try to avoid talking about Fernando with your daughter. It was the most painful memory for you, but your daughter was right, you can’t avoid talking about it forever, evading or making so many excuses as to why you can’t talk about Fernando. Especially now that your daughter is already grown up, she deserves to know about her father. It will be very selfish of you if you keep on avoiding it.

“But you know, being married isn’t always what the movies make it out to be,” you said, your voice calm but tinged with a hint of sadness. “It’s not all rainbows and sunshine, no matter how much you love someone.”

“What do you mean, Mama?” She asked, tone gentle but eager to understand.

You laced your fingers together on the table, your gaze drifting for a moment, as if the memories were replaying in front of you.

“Your Papa and I, we had a wonderful start. The kind of love that people dream about. But life has a way of testing even the strongest bonds.” You paused, meeting her gaze. “Both of us had demanding careers. My career wasn’t exactly stationary, I was always flying to another country for events, galas, photoshoots, and your Papa, he was flying all over the world for races.”

“It felt like we were always moving but never in the same direction. We were always missing each other’s milestones, each other’s days. We tried to hold on, we really did.”

“What did you do?” Sofia asked softly, her voice tinged with concern.

You sighed, leaning forward slightly as you rested your elbows on the table. “We tried everything we could think of. Marriage counseling, for one. We sat in those sessions and poured our hearts out, hoping that somehow, talking through everything would bring us closer again.”

“Did it help?” Sofia asked cautiously, as if she were afraid of the answer.

“For a little while,” you admitted. “It gave us the tools to communicate better, to understand each other’s needs and frustrations. But it wasn’t enough, there was just too much distance, literal and emotional.”

Her expression softened, and she traced her finger along the rim of her cup. “That must’ve been really hard.”

“It was, and after counseling didn’t work, we tried going away on a trip. We thought that maybe if we stepped away from everything—work, schedules, the stress, it would help. A beautiful place, with just the two of us, no distractions. It was nice, but…” you shook your head slightly, a wistful smile playing on your lips. “You can’t expect a trip to fix something that’s broken.”

You sat up straighter, your tone steady despite the heaviness of the memory. “We realized we were holding onto something that wasn’t working anymore. We still cared about each other deeply, but the truth was, we weren’t as compatible as we thought we’d be, and before things got worse, we made the hardest decision we could make.”

Sofia’s eyes glimmered with understanding, though a hint of sadness lingered in her expression. “You decided to let go.”

“Yes,” you replied quietly. “We decided to put a stop to it before we hurt each other more. It was mutual, we both knew that it was the right thing to do, even if it was painful. Sometimes love isn’t enough to make a marriage work.”

“That must’ve been really hard for you,” she said softly, reaching across the table to place her hand over yours. “For both you and Papa.”

“It was,” you admitted, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “But we did what we thought was best for everyone involved, and even though things didn’t work out between us, there was one thing we always agreed on.”

Sofia tilted her head, her curiosity evident. “What’s that?”

“That you were the best thing to ever come out of our time together,” you said with a small smile. “We both loved you more than anything in the world. That never changed.”

“I’m glad that you told me, Mama,” she said after a moment, lips curved into a faint smile, and she looked down at your intertwined hands. “I’ve always wondered, and it makes sense now.”

“I’m glad you asked,” you said softly. “I know that it’s not the fairytale story that most people hope for, but it’s ours, and I’m glad that you know.”

The hours in the café passed by so fast, with the two of you lost in conversation. Occasionally, someone would approach you, their voice tinged with both awe and respect as they asked for a photo. You always obliged with a warm smile, and Sofia watched quietly, her gaze filled with mixture of admiration and curiosity. Once, a woman gushed about how lovely it was to see you out with your daughter, her compliment bringing a soft smile to Sofia’s face.

“Do you get tired of it?” She asked softly as you sat back down.

“Of what?” You replied, reaching for your drink.

“People stopping you everywhere.” She tilted her head slightly, observing you as though trying to decipher your thoughts.

“Not really. I’m grateful for their kindness. Besides,” You said, offering her a gentle smile, and gesturing between the two of you. “Moments like this are far more important to me.”

Her lips curved into a faint smile, and she dropped her gaze to the table. “I like this too.”

When the café began to empty and the staff subtly started cleaning up for the night, you leaned back in your chair, glancing at your watch and sighed contentedly.

“I think we’ve been here for long enough,” you said. “It’s already getting late, and we should probably head back.”

“What about the shopping spree?” Sofia asked, her tone hesitant.

You reached over, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “We’ll do it tomorrow, after my fittings. I promised you, didn’t I?”

“But you’ll be tired,” she reasoned, her voice soft with concern, but firm. “I don’t want you to overdo it.”

You smiled warmly at her, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the table. “Sweetheart, I’m never too tired for you. If I was, I wouldn’t have promised. You’re my priority.”

“Okay.” She murmured, looking down on her empty cup, still sounding unsure.

“Hey,” you said, reaching across the table to gently take her hand. “It’s not a big deal. I love spending time with you, and besides, I want to spoil you.” You added with a wink.

Sofia let out a soft laugh at that, finally meeting your eyes. “Alright, but only if you’re really sure.”

“Absolutely,” you said with conviction, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

By the time you stepped outside, the sky had turned into a deep shade of navy, the city illuminated by the glow of streetlights and neon signs. The streets were alive with energy, people bustling about, and the faint hum of conversations blending with the occasional honk of a car horn.

As you walked side by side, you instinctively wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. Sofia didn’t resist, leaning into your touch as the two of you strolled through the vibrant cityscape.

“Singapore at night is something else.” She said softly, her eyes flicking from the lights above to the people around.

“It really is,” you agreed, your gaze sweeping over the bustling streets. “Years of living here with you and it is still one of my favorite things about being here, how alive everything feels, no matter the hour.”

She nodded, her expression thoughtful. “It’s beautiful.”

The two if you continued in companionable silence, your steps unhurried. You glanced at her occasionally, your heart swelling with affection at how relaxed and eased she seemed. Spotting an available taxi, you raised your hand to hail it, guiding her gently toward the curb. The car pulled up smoothly, and you opened the door for her, gesturing to her to get in first.

“In you go, darling.” you said as you put your hand over her head.

“Thank you.” She said quietly, sliding into the backseat.

You followed, settling in beside her, greeting the driver, and giving him your address. As the car began to move, you leaned back against the seat, letting out a soft sigh of contentment. Sofia, whom you believed to be Jullianna, shifted closer, resting her head lightly against your shoulder.

“You’re really not tired?” She asked after a moment, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Not at all,” you replied, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “Spending time with you will always be the best part of my day.”

Sofia didn’t say anything, but you felt her body relax against you, her hand slipping into yours. The quiet hum of the taxi and the soft glow of the city outside made the moment feel almost dreamlike, a perfect ending to a perfect day.

When the taxi pulled up to the house, the golden lights from the grand windows spilled out onto the driveway, casting a warm and welcoming glow. As you and Sofia stepped out, the heavy front doors swung open, Martin greeted you with a slight bow.

“Good evening, madame. Welcome home.” He said, voice calm and measured as always. Behind him, a few housekeepers stood ready, their smiles polite but genuine.

“Thank you, Martin,” you said, offering a smile as you removed your heels and put them on the rack, changing into your indoor slippers. “It’s good to be back.”

Sofia stood slightly behind you, still taking in the familiar grandeur of the house, standing here still felt surreal for her. The subtle hum of efficiency in the house was comforting yet intimidating.

One of the housekeepers stepped forward and spoke gently. “Madame, all of Miss Jullianna’s laundry from camp has been taken care of and put away.”

“Thank you so much,” you turned to her with a grateful expression. “I really appreciate it, I hope it wasn’t quite the task.”

The housekeeper smiled, shaking her head modestly. “Not at all, madame. We’re happy to help.”

You then turned to Sofia, who had been quietly observing, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Shweetheart, it’s getting late. Go ahead and get ready for bed, alright?”

Sofia froze momentarily, panic bubbling beneath her composed exterior. Where’s Jullianna’s room? The floor plan Jullianna had shown her briefly flashed in her mind, but the details were hazy. Upstairs, she was certain of it, the bedroom was upstairs. That much she remembered.

“Uh, okay!” Sofia said quickly, her voice an octave higher than usual. She gave you a quick kiss on the cheeks, and stepped back, addressing everyone as she spoke. “Good night!”

She turned on her heel and started towards the staircase, her movements quick and almost robotic. You watched her with a bemused smile, tilting your head slightly.

“Goodnight, darling!” You called after her, shaking your head lightly. “She must be exhausted.” You murmured to Martin, who gave a small nod in agreement.

“Understandable, madame,” Martin said smoothly. “It had been quite a long day for her.”

You chuckled softly and made your way toward the sitting room, while Sofia darted up the staircase with determination.

As Sofia reached the landing, she slowed her pace, looking back just in case Martin or a housekeeper had followed her. Her eyes darting to the left and right, the hallways stretched out in both directions, doors lining either side, each one identical to the next.

Which one is hers?

She hesitated for a moment, checking again as glancing over the bannister to ensure no one was watching. Then, she steeled herself and chose a direction at random, heading down the hall with feigned confidence.

If I just open doors discreetly, I’ll figure it out…hopefully.

She stopped in front of the first door, her hand hovering over the knob. Taking a deep breath, she slowly twisted it and peeked inside. The room was dark, but from what little she could see, it didn’t look lived-in. Definitely not Jullianna’s. Quickly closing the door, she moved to the next one, her heart racing slightly faster.

Come on, it has to be one of these.

By sheer luck, or perhaps Jullianna’s divine intervention, the next door she opened revealed a room that looked distinctly like Jullianna’s. The walls were adorned with personal touches—framed photos, art pieces, and trophies from school competitions. Sofia exhaled deeply, relief flooding through her as she stepped inside and gently closed the door behind her.

“Finally,” she whispered to herself, leaning back against the door for a moment.

Her gaze swept over the room, and a small smile tugged at her lips. This is where she lives, where she sleeps. As Sofia settled herself into Jullianna’s room, she couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer size and elegance of it.

The room felt like something out of a luxury magazine, spacious, meticulously organized, and exuding a quiet sophistication that perfectly encapsulated Jullianna’s personality. Curiosity tugged at her as she wandered over to one of the doors on the side of the room. That’s probably just the bathroom, she thought, twisting the handles. Her jaw dropped.

It was not just a bathroom, it was a walk-in closet. A massive walk-in closet. Rows upon rows of clothes hung neatly on gold-accented racks, organized by color, season, and occasion. Everything was pristine, almost as though no one ever touched anything. Beneath the racks were drawers labeled with words like scarves, belts, and hats.

“What in the world…” Sofia muttered under her breath, stepping further inside.

Her fingers trailed lightly over the fabrics, feeling the silks, cottons, and other materials she could not even identify. Sofia’s gaze moved up to the shelves where dozens of handbags sat like prized trophies, each one gleaming under the soft, warm lighting.

Then her eyes fell to the section dedicated entirely to sleepwear—rows of satin and cotton pajamas, all perfectly folded and hung. She let out a small, incredulous laugh.

“Does she even wear the same thing twice? Or is that against her personal code?” Sofia murmured to herself, raising an eyebrow as she scanned the collection. It seemed endless. “I swear, I’m gonna roast her so bad for this when we talk.”

She shook her head, smiling to herself as she made a mental note to bring this up with Jullianna during their next facetime call.

Turning around, she noticed an entire wall dedicated to shoes. There were flats, heels, boots, and sneakers—all lined up like soldiers awaiting inspection. She walked over, admiring them one by one, and picking up a pair of platform heels.

“Does she even wear all of these? Or do they just sit here looking pretty?” She muttered under her breath.

She walked further, admiring them one by one. The thought crossed her mind to try on a few pairs, but she resisted. Instead, she quietly thanked the universe that she and Jullianna wore the same size. At least I won’t trip over heels that are too big for me.

Sofia wandered back out of the closet, still amazed, and moved to the other door. This time, she was right, it was the bathroom.

“Okay, this is just ridiculous.” She whispered.

It was not just any bathroom. This was a bathroom that could rival those in five-star hotels. The marble floors gleamed under the recessed lighting, and a large soaking tub stood in the center, surrounded by candles and neatly arranged bath products. There was even a rainfall shower with walls of glass, and two vanities stocked with an array of high-end skincare products.

“Of course her bathroom is this fancy. Why wouldn’t it be for a pompous ass like her.” Sofia chuckled, the nickname from camp already sticking with her. “Who even needs two vanities? Well, she does.” She opened a few drawers, curious but cautious, noting how every little thing had its place.

After taking it all in, she made her way back to the main room and sat on the edge of the bed. Sofia’s carefree, camp-spirited self could not help but feel a little out of place in the polished and prim world Jullianna belonged. Their difference in style and personality became glaringly obvious as she thought how she was supposed to pull this off. She sighed, standing up and glancing towards the closet again.

How does she even decide on an outfit every day? Her mind wandered over the pre-coordinated outfits hanging together back in the walk-in closet, and decided to just stick to those. Better safe than sorry. If it’s already paired, I can’t mess up…right?

“I’m going to need to ask her for a cheat sheet or something.” She mumbled, making another mental note to ask Jullianna for advice on how not to mess this all up.

For now, Sofia slid into one of the satin pajama sets and climbed into the soft, king sized bed. The covers felt impossibly smooth against her skin, like they were made of clouds. As she lay there, staring at the intricate ceiling design, she couldn’t help but laugh softly to herself.

“How am I supposed to keep up with this?” She murmured to herself, chuckling. “This is going to be really interesting.”

Sofia lay in the king sized bed, staring at the ceiling, hands tucked under her head. The room was dark and still, with only the faint glow of moonlight spilling through the large, curtained windows. She tried closing her eyes tightly, but her mind refused to settle, the unfamiliar surroundings, no matter how luxurious, only made her miss home more. She was not used to this kind of quiet, not the kind that made her thoughts louder than they needed to be.

She shifted slightly under the covers, hugging now the pillow closer. Every fiber of her being longed for the comforting presence of her father, the warmth of his voice when he wished her good night, the sound of his footsteps echoing through their home in Spain. Sofia’s breath hitched slightly when she suddenly heard faint footsteps outside the door, her heart raced as the sound grew closer, she shifted back into a sleeping position, shutting her eyes as she tried to even out her breathing.

The door creaked open gently, and you stepped inside, the soft light from the hallway spilling in for a brief moment before the door clicked shut again. Your eyes adjusted quickly to the dimness of the room, and your gaze immediately fell on the figure lying under the plush covers. You smiled to yourself, letting out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Fast asleep already.” You murmured softly, more to yourself than to anyone else.

Sofia’s heart ached at your voice. It was so tender, so maternal, and for a moment, she almost felt guilty for keeping up this act. You moved closer, your footsteps barely making a sound on the carpeted floor. Reaching the side of the bed, you lowered yourself carefully onto the edge, mindful not to disturb what you thought was your sleeping daughter.

The mattress dipped slightly under your weight, and Sofia felt it, but she remained perfectly still. You looked at her peaceful form, her dark lashes resting gently against her cheeks.

“My sweet girl,” you whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face. “You must’ve been so tired today, huh.”

Sofia’s chest tightened. She wanted to say something, to reach out to you, but she did not. Instead, she felt the warmth of your hand as it lingered for a moment on her hair, smoothing it gently.

“You always try to act so grown-up,” you continued softly, your voice filled with affection, “but you’ll always be my little girl, Lia. Don’t ever forget that.”

Sofia’s heart skipped at the name. It was not hers, but the tenderness in your tone made it feel like it could have been. You leaned down, pressing a light feather kiss, to her forehead, and she had to fight the sudden wave of emotion welling up inside her.

“Good night, my love.” You said softly, pulling back and standing up quietly.

You adjusted the covers slightly, ensuring she was tucked in before leaving the room. Sofia’s ears picked up every little sound, the soft rustle of fabric, faint creak of the floorboards, and finally, the gentle click of the door closing as you left the room.

Only when the silence returned did she open her eyes, staring up at the ceiling. Her fingers brushed the spot on her forehead where you had kissed her, and she swallowed hard.

“Good night.” She whispered into the darkness.

taglist : @qghosty , @seonghwaexile , @linnygirl09

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tpwk-formula1 · 4 months ago

Note

Hi hi hiii, I would like to order a pizza with cauliflower crust, red peppers, ricotta and Colby jack, served with lemonade (reader giving and receiving) and dessert, delivered by Fernando Alonso, please

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

cauliflower crust sunshine x grumpy sauce chef's choice red peppers “No. Go change” ricotta "I love your voice but it's always my favorite when you're moaning my name" colby jack "If you keep running that mouth you're not gonna cum tonight" lemonade body worship dessert yes served by Fernando Alonso

TW - more plot than porn, riding, quickie, unprotected sex, creampie, age gap (almost 20 years)

WC 1100+

Y/N POV

“No. Go change,” Fernando tells me without giving it much of a look. Fernando and I had been dating for the past year and due to our age gap we kept it underwraps until recently and today was the first time I was gonna be walking into the Paddock hand and hand with Fernando and for the past 10 minutes I had been stressing out about what I was gonna wear when I had finally settles on a dress Fernando has told me he loved on many occasions.

"Love, you always tell me how good I look in this dress, why am I changing?" I ask softly while approaching Nando who was sitting on the bed with his phone in his hand.

"Ya you do look good in this dress, but you look too good and I don't want anyone else to see what's mine," Fernando says while pulling me into his lap allowing for me to strattle his lap.

"Fernando, you're a grown man, I think you can handle your girlfriend wearing a dress. Mind you said girlfriend only has eyes for you," I tell him softly while running my hands through his soft hair. I watch as Fernando closes his eyes and relaxes into my touch while squeezing my hips and trailing his fingers up my back softly.

"I'm wearing this dress, Fernando," I tell him softly while tugging at his hair making him groan slightly.

"You're staying by my side then," he tells me while opening his eyes and squeezing my ass softly making me moan softly.

"I was already planning on it," I reply softly while pulling him in for a kiss.

I start grinding against Nando while still making out with him.

"Fuck, bebé, we can't we won't have time," Fernando groans while trying to push me away making me whine and double my efforts grinding down even harder.

"Please, Nando! Need you right now," I beg against his lips trailing my mouth down his jaw and to his neck where I start leaving open mouth kisses against his skin trying to coax him into a quickie.

"Please, Fernando," I beg again when a groan leaves his lips.

"No and if you keep running that mouth you're not gonna cum tonight," Fernando finally says sternly gripping onto my hips and stopping my motions.

"Ugh, such a buzz kill," I groan while climbing off of Fernando's lap and finishing getting ready.

"Hermosa, you know we can't be late today," Nando says while coming into the bathroom and pulling me into his chest letting my back rest against him.

"Don't act like we couldn't have been finished in 5 minutes," I reply back while giving a cold stare through the mirror.

"Drop the attitude," Fernando replies while pinching my side before slapping my ass.

"Fernando, don't be a tease," I whine when he starts rubbing my ass.

"Look so good though," he replies back with a smirk making me roll my eyes at him.

"We don't have time remember," I told him making him groan and step back allowing me to walk out of the bathroom to find my shoes.

"Ready?" I ask with a smile on my face to find a moody Fernando.

"You did this to yourself! Don't give me that look. I was soaked and ready for you an hour ago and somebodyyyy couldn't spare 10 minutes," I tell Fernando making him roll his eyes and take my hand in his while we make our way to valet to pick up the car.

"Should've just given you what you wanted," Fernando groans out and readjusts his pants when we pull up to the paddock making em giggle softly.

"You ready?" I ask softly making Fernando look at me with a faint smile.

"Yes, are you?" He asks back making me smile and nod my head. Once we get out of the car we have a few minute walk to the enterance where the media will be waiting to get pictures of the drivers entering.

When we walk through the paddock I keep my hand in Fernando's and make sure to not leave his side. He successfully ignores all of the questions being thrown at us and gets us into the Astin Martin hospitality safely.

"I have an hour before I have to go to the media pen so I'll show you around a bit," Fernando tells me softly walking through the building and introducing me to a few people as we go.

Once the mini tour is over Fernando takes us into his driver's room and lets me get comfortable knowing I'll be staying in here while he's in the media pen.

"Please Fernando we have time," I beg while pulling his hand towards the little massage bed and sitting him down while climbing into his lap.

"Bebé, it's your first time here and you're trying to get in my pants?" Fernando teases me but makes no attempt to stop me from unbuttoning his pants.

"This is what happens when you choose to date someone almost 20 years younger than you," I reply with a smirk while finally pulling his pants down a freeing his hard cock.

"Plus, you're hard and not stopping me," I add while pulling my panties to the side and sinking down on his cock with a moan.

"Fuck, we gotta be quick, Hermosa," Fernando groans while gripping my hips and fucking into me.

"Fuck," I moan loudly making Fernando speed up his actions trying to bring me close to the edge.

"Fernando," i moan again when he starts hitting all my sweet spots.

"Fuck, "I love your voice but it's always my favorite when you're moaning my name," Fernando groans while bouncing me faster on his cock.

"Fuck, you're close aren't you?" Fernando groans making me whimper and nod my head in confirmation.

"Cum for me," Fernando grunts out while still bouncing me on his cock while bringing a free hand down to my clit and giving it a rub sending me over the edge into a powerful orgasm.

"Oh fuck," I moan loudly which has Fernando covering my mouth with his hand knowing my volume was getting too loud.

"Fuck," Fernando grunts a few seconds after I started cumming down from my orgasm letting me know he was about to cum. With one last rough thrust up into my pussy Fernando starts cumming deep into my pussy making me whimper when his hot cum starts hitting the walls of my pussy.

"Fuck, always take me so well," Fernando groans while slowly pulling me off his cock and grabbing a towel and quickly cleaning me off before placing my thong back into place. He pats my sensitive pussy once my thong is in place making me whimper at the stimulation.

"Such a sensitive little thing," Fernando teases while helping me off the bed and pulling my dress back into place.

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gguk-n · 4 months ago

Text

Wheels of Desire (Fernando Alonso x Lance Stroll's friend!Reader)

Summary- Finding an older man attractive is the oldest rule in the book, what if said older man is a little hesitant?

{Reader's POV}

Lance and I had recently made acquaintance through our fathers a few months ago. Since we were closer in age, we started to get along quite well. That's how I found myself at the Canadian Grand Prix. Did I know anything about cars? Nope. Did I know anything about Formula One? Nada. But was I supportive friend? Debatable. My dad wanted me at the race, I have an inkling they are trying to set me and Lance up but I believe that ship sailed a long time ago since he already has a girlfriend. That's Lance's burden to bear not mine, I'm here to keep up appearances.

I had the Aston Martin paddock pass slightly sway along as I strode to the hospitality. I did not know anyone here and that asshole didn't even come to greet me at the entrance. As I walked in, I spotted Lance. I smacked the back of his head, "You knew I came here for you, yet you wouldn't even come and greet me" I whined. "I thought you were a big girl" he laughed giving me a hug. "Whatever" I mumbled when my eyes met the man in front of me, who was also dressed in the same shirt as Lance. "Fernando, this is Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N, this is Fernando Alonso, my teammate" Lance introduced us. I smiled at him and shook his hand.

I pulled Lance to the side before whispering, "I didn't know your team was this hot" "He's old enough to be your dad." he pointed out. "He isn't my dad and my dad's way older than him" I explained. "Y/N come on" he whined. "Listen, you don't have to do anything, I'm pretty enough to handle it on my own, my only qualm is you hid that beautiful Spanish man from me" I said flipping him off. "How do you know he's Spanish?" he quizzed. "Accent and name, pay attention Strulovich" I sighed. "Now, if you'll excuse me I have a hot man to woo" I whispered and sauntered over to Fernando.

It was tragic honestly, even I could tell the way I was practically throwing myself at Fernando at this point and this man wouldn't even bat an eye. My spirit was starting to run low. But I wasn't giving up just yet, the weekend had just started and I had 2 more days.

Lance took me out to dinner to cheer me up. "In your defence, Fernando probably likes older women not infants" Lance chided. "I hate you" I seethed. "You're just hangry, here have a bite" he said placing a forkful of pasta in my mouth. "You do know how to cheer me up, Lancey" I hummed chewing on the food.

The dinner from last night made it on the tabloid, here, I am trying to woo Fernando and the tabloids are running a story of me and Lance. I think I might have to have a strongly worded letter with the said media houses.

Fernando seemed even more off than the last day; my jokes weren't landing, I couldn't even make him smile at this point. I found myself subconsciously chewing on my lower lip. "You're bleeding" Fernando said holding up a tissue to my lips. His fingers brushed past my lips and now sat on my chin as he added pressure to the wound. "What's got you so anxious?" Fernando asked. "Nothing" I shook my head. "Don't move, yet" Fernando reprimanded holding my head from the back in place with his other hand. I stood still, my brain running a 100 miles an hour, my eyes scanning his face which had creased in focus and his eyes laced with worry. He slowly moved his hand away to see the blood had stopped, I wish it hadn't. All I could think about was how maybe Fernando held your head as he kissed you aggressively.

Fernando left to talk to his engineers. I stood there staring at him until Lance came and closed my mouth. "You're drooling" he chided. "I mean how can I not? Look at him?" I chuckled. Lance just shook his head and walked away.

I spent the whole night formulating but I never came up with anything to at least peak Fernando's interest in me. None of my flirting was working.

I walked into the hospitality with my head down, it was Fernando who greeted me. "You don't look so good" he remarked. "Yeah, I didn't sleep much" I replied. "What's on your mind?" he asked. "Nothing, it's stupid" I brushed him off. "If it was that stupid why'd you stay up thinking about it?" Fernando quizzed. I felt so stupid and annoyed. Before I could open my mouth, Lance had come with a cup of coffee my saving grace. I moaned as I took a large sip from the cup. "You are the best" I said, warming my hands up against the cup. The weather had gotten colder due to the rain and the clothes I had worn were covered in a thin sheet of cold mist.

I watched them move about the hospitality get ready for the race, my eyes lingering on Fernando longer. I had only found out about him 3 days ago and right now, he was taking up an unprecedented amount of space in my head.

I tried to flirt with him as the day progressed but it seemed futile. He would brush me off or just laugh it off. I was starting to lose all hope. I lost all my hope at the end of the day when the team was packing up after the race. "You staying or leaving?" Lance asked. "I have a dinner date with your parents tomorrow and then I'll leave" I said. "Have fun" he remarked. "Aren't you coming too?" I asked. "Nope, I have plans" he said winking at me. I saw Fernando looking at me with sad eyes; I felt weird.

I was out at a bar finishing up my mocktail when I felt some one sit next to me. I turned around to find Fernando. "Hi" I greeted him with a smile. "I thought you were having dinner with Lance's family" Fernando pointed out. "Ah, that's tomorrow. I'm....free today" I said. Fernando seemed like he sighed a sigh of relief but I could be hallucinating. "I'll your finest wine and for the lady" he began now looking at me, "No, I'm good. I'll be leaving now" I said gathering my stuff. "huh....stay" he whispered in the moment the song changed.

I was shocked but I sat back down. "Why?" I asked. "You look like you don't want to be alone" he commented taking a sip of his wine. "I would like company, if I am being honest" I stated. "If you don't mind an old man's company, I'm here" he shrugged his shoulder. "You're not old and I would love your company" I smiled. "Did you drive here?" I asked. "No, taxi" he said. "Great! I'll have your finest champagne" I told the bartender. The two of us sat there enjoying each other's company.

After a while, we decided to exit the bar together; Fernando had called a cab and offered to drop me back. I'm not sure if it was the close proximity in the cab or the alcohol but when our fingers brushed I felt electricity course through me. I turned to see if he felt the same and he must've since he was staring at me. Without a second thought I crashed my lips against his. It took me a moment to realise but when I did, I suddenly pulled away, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that" I mumbled trying to put as much distance between us. "I...I....I thought you liked Lance" he muttered. "What? Eww!! He's like a brother to me. I've been trying to flirt with you since I laid eyes on you" I explained. "Really?" He asked. "Oh My God, did you think I'm that friendly to everyone?" I retorted. "I don't know" he mumbled running a hand through his hair. "Don't you think it's weird since I'm so much older than you?" he asked. I just shrugged, "I don't really look at people's ages" He looked hesitant. "Fernando, I wanna go on a date with you, I wanna date you, I wanna be your girlfriend, maybe" I spoke loud and clear. His mouth opened and closed a few time, "It's okay, take your time. Can I have your number though?" I asked hopeful. He took my phone entered his number and as the taxi driver pulled up to my hotel, Fernando pulled me in for a kiss. "I'm not completely sure but I think I want to go out on a date with you too" he muttered with a smile. "I'll be in Spain next month, see you then" I whispered kissing his cheek and exiting the taxi.

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giuseppe-yuki · 5 months ago

Text

spoiled

fernando alonso x cocker spaniel shapeshifter!reader

w.c.: 2k

warnings: one curse word

part my of shapeshifting!reader series

summary: as nando's precious cocker spaniel, you are spoiled rotten.

picture credits from pinterest :)

*side note- it has come to my attention that the cute puppy in the header is actually a king charles spaniel, not a cocker spaniel, so i apologize for that one. my headers are mainly used for aesthetic purposes, so feel free to imagine yourself as either breed :)

the word “no” was practically nonexistent when you were with nando.

you want another birkin to go in your collection? here, have three. you felt like pizza for dinner? sure thing. pizza freshly made in italy is being flown in right now. wow, that baby pink aston sure is cute, isn’t it? here’s the keys to a brand new, custom made, db9 that has matching pink heart tire rims.

it seemed like fernando’s singular goal in life as your boyfriend was simply to pamper and spoil you. when he found out your shapeshifting abilities, he became ecstatic. even more ways to spoil you!

that’s how you found yourself sat on his lap, twin pink bows tied on each of your ears, inside of the aston martin meeting. mike krack was currently yapping about tire degradation and management, repeatedly smacking a labeled graph with his pointer stick. you usually didn’t accompany your boyfriend to these types of meetings, but you felt particularly clingy today, and who was he to deny your request? ignoring the bewildered looks of the engineers on the spinny chairs around you both, he leans down, presses a kiss to your head, and then combs his fingers through your freshly washed fur, making you sigh in contentment.

however, mike’s loud voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

”fernando!” he shouts across the long table, stopping his long spiel. “are you even listening, or are you paying all your attention to your dog?”

all the engineers at the table turn towards fernando, giving him quizzical looks at the canine in his lap. (except for lance, who looked bored beyond his mind picking at his fingernails) he simply just shrugs, still petting you. “eh, what can i say? she’s kind of high maintenance.”

the aston martin team principal rubs his face in annoyance, but picks up his pointer stick and continues on with his presentation.

he only gets in a minute of talking before loud knocking echos throughout the meeting room. curious, you hop off of fernando’s lap and pad towards the door.

“what is it now?” the irritated team principal exclaims exasperatedly.

the door swings open, almost hitting you, to reveal a rather disgruntled-looking delivery man holding a clipboard that looked like it had a book’s worth of papers clipped to it. you flee back towards your boyfriend in fear.

“fernando…alonso?” the deliveryman asks, squinting his eyes at the name printed on the top-most paper. when he receives a nod of confirmation, he continues,”i have some deliveries for you, and this stack of papers you have to sign that make sure you have received the parcels.” he then thrusts the board out to nando.

while your boyfriend sifts through each paper, hastily scribbling his name on each dotted line, the delivery man peers around the room in shock, as if he just noticed the handful of engineers and moderately pissed team principal standing in front of him. the man’s bored demeanor shifts to a more panicked one. “i - um- is this a bad time? should i come back later?” he stutters out, shifting nervously.

mike crack starts, “obviou-” before being cut off by fernando.

“no, right now is fine- it would be great if you could set up my purchases in my garage as well,” your boyfriend says, ignoring mike’s glare at the back of his head.

with a jaw-dropping two championships in his racing history, who was anyone to refuse fernando? mike had no choice but to begrudgingly end the meeting short and send the engineers away to analyze the new racing data.

meanwhile, you sat prettily in the corner of nando’s garage. and no- not at one of the dirty sweat-stained barstools in the garage- your boyfriend would never let you stain your soft fur like that. no, you sat in a plush white satin dog bed in your special curtained off area.

under fernando’s instructions, a swarm of deliverymen bat away your pale lacy curtains and filter in like a line of ants, one after another. they place box after box on the carpeted floor of your little area. it creates a glimmering tower of designer jewelry boxes and prim monogrammed paper bags.

after they exit the premises, fernando kneels down onto one knee and wraps you into a tight hug. “you enjoy your gifts, mi princesa!” he points to the sunny outdoors. “i’ll just be outside, overseeing the builders making the new air-conditioned mini house for you, okay?”

you wag your tail at him, and give him a kiss (lick) on the cheek as a thank-you.

the second fernando exits the room, lance’s girlfriend pokes her head through the sheer curtains separating your corner from the rest of the garage.

“hellooooo!” she giggles. “now what do we have here?”

looking over the pile of assorted bags and boxes on the floor, she pokes a green patterned bag labeled, ‘gucci.’

she jumps giddily after seeing several other matching shopping bags. “i saw the deliverymen come in with fernando’s order, and i was wondering i could-”

you shift to your human form before she can finish her sentence.

“yeah, i guess you can help me open them…” you sigh, rolling your eyes in fake annoyance.

lance’s girlfriend squeals in glee before ripping open a dior bag.

“how about this one?” you question, twirling around in your bedroom a haute couture babydoll dress.

from his position on the bed, wedged in between the plush pillows, your boyfriend rakes his eyes across your body appreciatively and pretends to think for a second.

“i think-” he pauses for a grand effect- “it looks absolutely beautiful on you, mi amor.”

even though he compliments you everyday, it doesn’t fail to make your cheeks heat up wherever you hear his praise.

“why, thank you, nando!” you say, flashing a smile at him.

ducking behind the changing room divider, you slip on a more skimpy stirling green pajama set that lance’s girlfriend had somehow pulled from the stack of clothes earlier in the day.

you can practically hear nando’s jaw hit the floor when you daintily step out from behind the divider, hands shyly held together behind your back.

“i’m guessing you like this one?” you joke, watching him blink back at you with an awestruck look. tiptoeing over a pile of clothes strewn on the ground and the pieces of expensive jewelry in various boxes, you run over to nando’s figure on the bed and prance onto his lap.

face inches away from his, you take your hand and physically shut his gaping mouth.

“speechless, huh?” you tease, tittering.

fernando looks at you, the pajama set draped over you perfectly (why would it not? he had it custom designed to fit you), new van cleef necklaces hanging from your neck, and celine bangles adjourning your wrists, and he can’t help but think all the money he spent for you was worth it.

his hazel eyes sparkle with adoration. “what can i say, mi amor? you take my breath away.”

you bat at his chest, giggling, before climbing off his lap and tucking yourself in next to him. like an automatic response, he protectively wraps his arm around you tucks your head into the crook between his neck and his shoulder.

the twinkling stars, crickets chirping, and warmth of fernando’s body quickly lull you to sleep, but before you drift off, you place a soft kiss on your boyfriend’s stubbled jaw.

“thank you for all the gifts, nando. you’re way too good to me.”

the next morning, you woke up early to drive to the paddock with fernando. it was race day, one of your favorite days to watch your boyfriend on the track. but, that also meant the swarm of celebrities, media, and fans of all ages that might step on your tail or ruin your little pink bows with their grimy hands. your ever so observant boyfriend took note of this right away and tucked you safely in between his arm and his body in your cocker spaniel form before a speck of dirt from the floor could touch you.

he doesn’t let you down until he arrives in his garage.

along with a couple of engineers, lance and his girlfriend are in there too. lance waves a polite hello to you and his older teammate, while his girlfriend shuffles over. she flashes a shy smile at your boyfriend before opening her mouth.

“could you please tell your *ahem* girlfriend-“ she gestures to you in his arms- “thank you for letting me open all those gifts with her yesterday. it was really fun!”

fernando lets out a chortle before nodding, “of course.”

you let out a bark, as if saying no problem, and give her outstretched hand a lick.

after your boyfriend peels away from you to go suit up with lance, you and lance’s girlfriend scamper back into your little sectioned off corner in the back of nando’s garage. you both sprawl yourselves on your satin white mini couch to wait for the the start of the race. you had to admit, having a boyfriend that spoiled you rotten was kind of nice. before you can get comfortable, however, the girl next to you practically launches herself off the couch.

“oww!” she yells, clutching her back. “what the actual fuck is that?”

you tilt you head in question, before you spot the offending material on the couch.

it was a swarovski diamond-lined dog collar with alternating green emeralds (you knew the possessive side of nando purposely put that in there to show what team you were rooting for). you laugh internally, before gingerly clutching it in your sharp canines and picking it off of the other side of the couch.

lance’s girlfriend shoots a playful glare at you. “wow…i literally helped you rip open all those boxes yesterday, and this is how you repay me? by nearly stabbing me to death with those ridiculously sharp gems?”

you roll your eyes, but give her a bark to apologize. jumping off the couch, you gently place the collar in front of her. knowing your intent, she bends down and fastens it on your neck, but not before exaggeratedly groaning and clutching her back as she knelt down.

in front of the full size mirror propped against the wall, you admire the way the collar glimmers like stars on your neck. then, the girl in front of you comes up with an idea.

“hey! we should go show max’s girlfriend your sparkly new jewelry!”

max’s girlfriend is nowhere to be found when you arrive in the redbull garage. ignoring the redbull engineers’ weird looks, you pad through in your aston martin colors with lance’s girlfriend by your side. still, you are unable to locate the girl you had in mind.

lance’s girlfriend shrugs. “that’s so weird! i wonder if she is still in his driver’s room or something?”

you tilt your head in confusion. she shouldn’t be, as the race was starting soon, so max must be in the garage! making up your mind to find max’s girlfriend, you pad over to the highest object next to you- max’s car. without thinking, you jump up onto the drs flap the back in order to have a higher vantage point. you only realize your grave error when lance’s girlfriend looks at you with wide eyes and nearby engineers let out gasps of shock.

as if it couldn’t get worse, max walks into the garage with his girlfriend in tow. he scrunches his eyebrows when he sees you on his car. pointing at you he lets out a shout.

“hey! what is fernando’s cocker spaniel doing on my car? call fernando and tell him that’s a €50,000 fine!”

when fernando comes over to the red bull garage to collect you, you bow your head in shame, fully expecting him to chastise you, but instead he holds you close and laughs. leaning close to your ear, he whispers, “good job, baby! i know max will never fine me for you touching his car- his girlfriend would never let him. next time, collect more info on his steering wheel setup and rear wing…they’ll never catch you!”

a/n: jk! one last fic for the current grid :)

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin @ale-522 @formula1-motogpfan @aceyalonso @my0hmary

@mbappebby @madkohi @rakshatos @heartsforleclerc @papaya-twinks

#f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf fic #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 imagine #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x female reader #fa14 x reader #fa14 x you #📝

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embrosegraves · 11 months ago

Text

𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕪 𝕀𝕟𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖

(request) Fernando Alonso x Fem!Reader As much as he loves it, Fernando is a bit confused as to why his wife is refusing to let him go anywhere.

Warnings: none. maybe some spelling errors.

Fernando is, in the words of many, a certified DILF. He’s always had the attention of women his entire career, however lately he has become more and more popular amongst teenage girls. You couldn’t blame them, of course not. If you were a teenager still, you would be the exact same. Even now, his teenage fans considered you, his wife, as “one of them”. You had fun chatting and interacting with his fans on social media because you all agreed on one crucial thing. Fernando Alonso was hot as fuck.

One afternoon, you had been lounging on your couch and scrolling through tiktok. A lot of Fernando’s fans tended to tag you in edits they’d made of him. Clicking on the most recent tag, a video appeared of a girl who only just looked the legal age.

“This is a message for F1’s resident MILF, Y/n Alonso.”

She spent the next few minutes talking about different clothing trends that she thought would look nice on Fernando. One such trend was a formal suit without a shirt or vest. You privately agreed that he would look amazing, but the one that really caught your eye was the trend that went around a few years ago. Of men wearing light grey sweatpants. Of course you knew why the trend was so…big. It made you curious as to whether Fernando also had a pair of grey sweatpants.

Getting up from the couch, you decided that you would look through the wardrobe and have a look. If he did, you were going to have to try and convince him to wear them for you. For science. You started looking through all of his clothes and were a bit disappointed when you couldn’t find any. Being so deep in your musings, you hadn’t heard Fernando come back inside from his workout in the backyard.

“Hola, Mi Amor.”

Fernando laughed at the shriek that left your mouth. Turning around you started scolding him for scaring you, until you realised what clothes he had changed into after he showered.

The grey sweatpants you had been looking for.

Fernando had apparently not noticed your brain short circuiting. Your husband wasn’t always the smartest, but at least he was pretty. He continued talking to you, completely unaware of the effect his clothes had on you.

“I was thinking we should go and get some groceries later. Mama sent me the recipe for this bread I haven’t had since I was a child.”

“That sounds great, Guapo,” you said, shaking out of your stupor, “but I think I’m too tired to get groceries today. We could go tomorrow if you’d like?”

“I can always go by myself if you don’t want to, I don’t mind.” Fernando frowned a little. It was almost lunch time, how could you be tired still?

Frantically you shook your head. Snaking your arms around his waist, you looked up at him through your lashes.

“No, I want to go with you, tomorrow. When I won’t be as tired.” You gave a demure smile, really trying to discreetly convince him to stay home. You knew that if your reaction to seeing your husband like this — in the comfort of your own home — was this dramatic, the teenage girls on tiktok would go ballistic. You had to prevent that as much as you could.

Which is why you knew that Fernando would bend to your every wish if you looked up at him and bat your delicate eyelashes. Just as you predicted, his hands gently rubbed the length of your body.

He smiled at you and nuzzled his ever-growing stubble into the crook of your neck. “Okay. We’ll go tomorrow.”

“Can we lay down for now? At least until I need to make dinner.”

“We can do whatever you want, Corazón.”

Weeks later, Fernando had come home early from a race weekend. He hadn’t seen your car in the driveway so he assumed that you were either still at work (it was monday after all) or you had gone to the shops for something. The thought of being there for you to come home to, as you usually were for him, made him more giddy than he’d’ve liked to admit.

He had quickly taken a shower, putting on his most comfortable pair of grey sweatpants, and started to prepare a nice snack and drink for you. Just as he put the last thing on the plate for you, he heard your car pull up the drive. Excited to see you after so long apart, he opened the front door and started walking towards your car.

Still sitting in your car, you had been checking your phone when Fernando knocked on the driver's side window. Seeing him standing next to your car door, your eyes widened. You had immediately clocked onto the fact that he was wearing the sweatpants. Grabbing your things and opening the door, you got out as quickly as you possibly could.

“Welcome home, Mi Amo—“

“Get inside! Quickly!”

Fernando was confused. More confused than he had been a few weeks ago when you were too tired to go to the store with him.

“Why the rush?”

“No questions, just please go back inside the house!”

Despite knowing that you lived in a relatively private area, your neighbours usually stuck to themselves, you couldn’t help but worry that someone had gotten a picture of Fernando in his grey sweatpants .

Once you were both inside, Fernando sufficiently confused, you started to relax a little.

“Is everything okay Amor? Why were you rushing?”

You hummed. “Hmm? Oh, sorry I thought I’d seen some paparazzi. I was just a little worried.”

Later that same day, you were in your kitchen mixing yourself a cocktail to sip on while watching some TV. You could hear Fernando on his phone scrolling through his tiktok feed. Which would’ve been fine, if you hadn’t heard exactly what tiktok he was watching.

Fernando didn’t often get videos about clothes on his for you page, but he felt compelled to sit through a video that came up about possible outfits for him to wear. What had really gotten his attention was that the video had been addressed to you.

“This is a message for F1’s resident MILF, Y/n Alonso.”

He was intrigued so he continued to watch the video. it wasn’t until the girl started explaining the Grey Sweats Trend that he finally figured out why you didn’t want him going outside. Curiously, he checked the comments to see what people thought about the trends she pointed out, only to see that you had left a comment on the video yourself.

yn.alonso 🔵 I think I'm gonna gatekeep the grey sweats 🤭 fernandoFan14 creator I can't even be mad 🫠

Shutting off his phone he walked into the kitchen to find you humming to yourself. You had been trying to pretend that you hadn’t just heard what he was watching. You tried to continue making your drink as if nothing was suspicious but you had to freeze when Fernando wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed his whole body against your back. You didn’t often curse the height difference between the two of you, but with the way he was perfectly aligned with your backside, you couldn’t help it.

“Is everything alright, Cariño?” You asked, trying your hardest to ignore the way he was pressing and practically rubbing against you.

“I heard you were gatekeeping me from my fans.”

“Who said that?”

He chuckled. “You should know exactly who said it, Amor.”

He attached his mouth to your neck and started placing slow, open kisses all the way from your shoulder to behind your ear. You knew in an instant that it was going to be a long night ahead.

My mind has been so centred on ABIN that I've basically had writer's block for anything that isn't for that series, so I apologise for how long this request has been sitting in my inbox.

otherwise, I hope you all enjoyed <3

#formula 1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #formula one #formula 1 #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x y/n #fernando alonso #fernando alonso fic #fernando alonso imagine #fa14 x you #fa14 x reader #fa14 fic #fa14 imagine #fa14

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piastriesque · 6 months ago

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are you jealous? fa14 x reader

⤷pairing: fernando alonso x reader

⤷warnings: age gap, fernando is kinda toxic, slightly suggestive at the end

⤷ summary: your dad's friend is not impressed with your new boyfriend and decides to make you aware of it

note: this is based on another story that i may write one day, that's why it may seem a bit... incomplete?. sorry for all the mistakes, especially grammatical ones. feel free to correct me!

#fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x you #fa14 x reader #fa14 x you #f1 smau #f1 social media au #fernando alonso

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rookienando · 1 month ago

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our secret moments pt. ii | 𝓯. 𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓸

pairing: fernando alonso x f!actress!reader, socmed!au

synopsis: you and fernando's rumored relationship isn't a rumor at all. pt. i

a/n: honestly have no clue if this is gonna have plot and an ending or i'm just writing blurbs because i can. ALSO, age gap mention, but y/n is in her late 20s

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f1 Some of last night's best dressed, the ladies in the paddock certainly slayed the house down at the Austrian Grand Prix! 🤩

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username the caption i can't—

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yourprivateaccount

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yourprivateaccount just the love of my life being the pookiest man ever❤️

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fernandoalo_official Mi bella, why?

georgerussell63 you're adorable, man

fernandoalo_official 😠

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fernandoalo_official ☺️❤️

georgerussell63 i call you cute and get an angry emoji, but she does it and gets a heart? 🙄

fernandoalo_official

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fernandoalo_official Always a joy to be in London 🇬🇧

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username he looks so good in that suit oml

username still one of the hottest guys on the grid

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yourusername

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yourusername always down for a night out 🥂

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yourcostar so glad you tried out my favorite london resto 🥺

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yourusername i am now OBSESSED with their filet mignon, thanks sm for telling me about it 🫶

yourbestfriend my bestie ATE

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f1gossipaccount

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f1gossipaccount SPOTTED: F1 driver Fernando Alonso and actress Y/N last night in London ahead of the British Grand Prix. Guess the rumors weren't rumors at all, no? 👀

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username holy shit

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username who wouldn't be?

fernandoalo_official

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fernandoalo_official Another year down, many more to go with you, vida mía ❤️

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yourusername 💋💌❤️

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username OKAY IT'S OFFICIAL THEY REALLY ARE TOGETHER

username i'm actually screaming f1 rumors were right for once

username WAIT what do they mean "another year" ???

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username ISN'T THAT Y/N'S OSCARS DRESS FROM TWO YEARS AGO IN THE SECOND PIC???

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username it's actually so scary they've managed to hide their relationship for so long considering the paparazzi and gossip sites

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f1 Found some of the paddock's lovebirds roaming in the Silverstone circuit ahead of the British Grand Prix!

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username not f1 admin hardlaunching them😭

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yourusername

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yourusername congrats on p3, my love! i'm so happy to be able to witness you up on that podium again, and i can't wait to see you up there some more. i love you 💚

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fernandoalo_official mi corazón, te amo ❤️

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yourusername te amo, my nando ❤️

#fernando alonso #fa14 #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x reader #fa14 x you #fa14 x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 social media au #socmed au

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cheriladycl01 · 3 months ago

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Kinktober 14/10/2024 Fernando Alonso - Marking

Plot: Fernando has to make everyone know who you belong to by marking what is his … all these young boys on the grid wouldn’t know how to handle a lady like you anyway.

Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, Marking, Hickies, biting, hand prints, p in v, slapping, fingering age-gap of 11 years, 18+ Minors DNI

Fernando had to make sure that everyone knew you were his and that you did in fact belong to him. There wasn’t a question about it, to him and you anyway but whenever you were around the paddock no-one could quite believe a young and influential celebrity like yourself was dating … him.

Nobody had an issue with it, 11 years as an age gap at the ages of 32 and 43 wasn’t that much at this age. The older you both got the less of an issue it became.

However, mechanics weren’t shy in the F1 world and were very very happy to talk to you when you were around in the garage or hospitality suites. A lot of the me the conversations remained polite and you were very intrigued by everything that went into an F1 team and how everyone did certain things to help the team get the best result possible.

But Fernando always seemed to walk in on rather out of context moments, just little comments from the mechanics and engineers that he’d walk in on and because of their nature a scowl would remain on his face for the rest of the day.

After a long day of FP3, qualifying and all the media duties on the side he took you back to the hotel you were all staying at with Aston Martin. You could tell the minute you guys got out the car he wasn’t happy. His hand was on the smell of your back guiding you to the lift and as you got there his hand drifted round the side to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

As the lift doors shut and it started going up, his grip on your hip only got tighter. He pinned you to the wall of the lift, leaving you no room as he kisses and nibbled up the exposed part of the neck. He was happy you guys were in Italy and that it was hot because all tomorrow you’d wear a pretty sundress that he knew everyone would be able to see what you’d both done tonight on you.

He kept kissing making little purple bruises all along your collarbone and neck. There was so many and he knew he’d make more once you got into his room.

He twisted your head to the side to look at the state of your neck in the mirror, your chin tilted up as he locked eyes at you in the mirror, still against your neck, nibbling and kissing away. He was obsessed.

The minute he got you in the hotel room, he was so much worse, on your like a dog in an instant kissing all over your face lightly as he parts your legs open, hitching the maxi skirt you’d worn today up to your hip.

“So pretty hermosa” he grins.

He practically tore your underwear off and his fingers were dipping into your heat beofre you could even look down to see what his plan was. Your gripped his forearm your mouth parting slightly at the feeling of his thick fingers stretching you out. You moan his name.

It sounded so loud, ludicrous, pornographic? You couldn’t tell but you knew it wasn’t a sound you wanted anyone else from the Aston Martin team to hear. Out of instinct, you but down into his arm. Not enough to hurt him, but enough to muffle the noises you were making.

“That’s it, tell everyone that you belong to me, and that I belong to you baby. Show them” he groans as his fingers scissor inside the deepest part of you that he can reach a happy sigh coming from you mouth before you unsink your teeth.

“It’s only ever going to be you” you moan at before your shaking around his fingers as he helps you through your high, still thrusting his fingers in and out.

Your grip his arm, your legs still shaking from your orgasm as you breath out trying to stop the low little pants coming out from your mouth.

He pulls his fingers out with a pop sucking them clean. He then kisses your clit, your hand coming to his head at the overstimulation as you moan. He travels his way up biting and nibbling all along your hip bone before going up to his favourite place to mark.

“They just sit so pretty” he groans licking over a hardened nipple before going around the frost of your actual boob, creating red and purple marks that have you wining and moaning for me.

“Come on baby, wanna feel you so bad. On your knees that’s it good girl, just a good girl aren’t you for daddy” he moans as you quickly turn over, so your on your elbows and knees presenting yourself to him.

He positions himself behind you, a vice grip on your hips. He slowly pushes his way into you, you can feel every different but if his dick scrapping against your tight walls, the stretch causing the loudest moan of the night just as he bottoms out.

He stays still for a while before he tightens his grip, knowing full well his hand prints will probably be there from his tight it was.

He started of slow building himself up until he was pounding in and out of you with so much vigor you wouldn’t think this was a 40 old year old man.

You could barley speak from how much please was coursing through your body, it was a feeling like no other to the point where your orgasm came on so suddenly that you couldn’t even tell Fernando that you were.

The only warning he got was you clenching around him beofre he could feel your juices drip down onto the sheets as you squirted. The tightest had him follow shortly after, with one final thrust burying himself deep in your walls and his hips stuttering as he did.

He helps you rolls over once he’s pulled out so your laying on your back on the bed.

“Your so fucking beautiful, and all mine. Everyone will see these tomorrow in that little dress of yours. Everyone will know how good I treat you” he tells you and all you can do is nod and cuddle into him. Unable to have words after what you’d just done.

Taglist:

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requiemforthepoets · 5 months ago

Text

FERNANDO ALONSO 𖦹 FA14

main masterlist

this time, i’ll love you much better : part 1 part 2 part 3

as the great peabo bryson once said, and i quote “the best of romances deserves second chances” and oh how fernando would love to prove that. he let you go before, but now that you’re back, he’ll take his chances.

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tpwk-formula1 · 4 months ago

Note

Hi! I’ll get a pizza with gluten free crust, sauce is chef’s choice, with basil and oregano, vodka soda and with dessert! Served by Fernando Alonso

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

gluten-free crust enemies to lovers alfredo sweet sex basil "I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy" oregano "Please, let me cum in you" vodka soda somnophilia/ sleepy sex dessert yes served by Fernando Alonso

Fernando x Rival! reader

TW - SOMNOPHILIA, implied consent, sleepy sex, creampie

WC 550+

Y/N POV

I'm still asleep that much I can tell but I'm not fully asleep and can feel this overwhelming sense of pleasure coursing through my body but still mostly asleep my brain isn't registering what is going on and it's not until I'm cumming that I'm fully awake screaming as I sit up on the bed to find my teammate Fernando between my thigh face completely soaked with my pleasure.

"Fuck," I moan at the sight and fall back into the bed letting myself come down from the intense pleasure.

"Fuck, that was so hot," Fernando groans as he pulls himself up to hover over my body.

Fernando and I have been teammates for the last several seasons and we have a very fierce rivalry on track but once off track, we are connected at the hips. It was more uncommon for us to sleep in different hotel rooms when we traveled rather than sharing like we currently were. Nando and I had talked about this sort of thing before but it had been a while since it was last mentioned which made me think that it wasn't something Fernando would be into, but boy was I wrong.

"More please," I mumble out still half asleep but also buzzing for more. Fernando just smiles down at me before capturing my lips into his and pulling me in for a heated makeout session.

I can feel Nando teasing my soaked pussy with the tip of his cock before he slips in slowly.

I gasp against Fernando's lips feeling my pussy stretch to accommodate his size before he's rocking his hips making sure to loosen me up before he starts pumping into me.

"Oh fuck," I moan when he starts thrusting into my pussy in a face yet still gentle pace.

"So fucking tight," Nando moans making me clench around him hearing his deep morning voice fill my ears. I knew neither of us would last long so I was determined to enjoy the pleasure as long as possible.

"Please, let me cum in you," Fernando grunts out making me moan and nod my head in approval.

Fernando sneaks a hand between our conjoined bodies and starts teasing my clit making me clench around his cock sending him into a strong orgasm pulling me with him into my own just as strong orgasm.

"Fuck Nando," I cry out as he helps the both of us ride our highs out. Once we start coming down from the pleasure Fernando slowly slips out of my pussy and watches as his cum leaks from my pussy.

"I love to watch my cum leak from your pretty pussy," Fernando says with a smirk while trailing his fingers through my leaking cunt and teasing my overstimulated clit for a few seconds before offering me his fingers to lick clean.

I lick off our mix cum from his fingers before he climbs out of bed and pulls me into his arms so we can shower together before we had to show up to the paddock for Media Day.

"I liked waking up like that," I confess as Nando is washing my hair for me.

"I'm glad, I was hoping you wouldn't be upset," Fernando tells me softly making me smile.

"I trust you. I know you would never take advantage of me which is why I enjoyed it so much," I reassure him. I feel Fernando place a soft kiss on my shoulder before grabbing the shower head and rinsing the soap from my long hair.

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trashytracktales · 2 months ago

Text

Texting the F1 GRID

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

𐙚 summary ──── Reader texting song lyrics.

𐙚 featuring ──── Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Fernando Alonso, Franco Colapinto, Lewis Hamilton, Logan Sargeant, and Carlos Sainz.

𐙚 rating ──── fluff/humor

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── flirty behavior, suggestive language.

𐙚 date ──── Nov. 30, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Enjoy these silly texts while I fine-tune my next Lando request 🤍🎀

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

MASTERLIST

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

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pucksandpower · 8 months ago

Text

Pequeña

Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics

Fernando Alonso x Webber!Reader

Summary: a brutal breakup leads you right into the arms of one of your father's oldest friends (or in which being sooooo normal about Fernando Alonso runs in the Webber family)

Warnings: 18+ content, age gap, taking advantage of an emotionally vulnerable state, breeding, and pregnancy

You sit hunched on your bed, knees pulled up to your chest as tears stream down your face. Your mobile vibrates again and you swipe away another message from your now ex-boyfriend without reading it. How could he do this to you? You thought what you had was real.

Your thoughts drift to home, to your family thousands of miles away in Australia. You long for your dad’s comforting embrace and your mum’s reassuring words. But they’re so far away. You feel painfully alone in this strange English city where you’ve come to attend university.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re dialing a familiar number. It rings three times before a warm voice picks up. “Hola pequeña! What’s wrong?”

“N-Nando ...” You sniffle, trying and failing to keep your voice from cracking. “He … he cheated on me.”

There’s a pause before Fernando responds, his Spanish lilt taking on a protective edge. “That little hijo de puta. I’ll kill him myself.”

You let out a watery laugh. “No, don’t do that. I … I just miss home. Miss my family.”

“Say no more, pequeña. You’re coming to stay with me for a bit, yeah? Can’t have you all alone like this.”

You hesitate, wiping at your tears. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose ...”

“Impose?” Fernando laughs. “My favorite girl? Never. I’m sending a car to get you right now.”

“No, no, I can drive myself-”

“You’ll do no such thing in this state,” he chides. “Driver’s on his way. Go pack a bag.”

You open your mouth to protest again but think better of it. Fernando can be extremely stubborn when he wants to be. “Okay, okay. Thank you, Nando. Really.”

“De nada, pequeña. I’ve got the guest room all ready for you. We’ll get through this together, yeah?”

His soothing Spanish accent is already making you feel infinitely better. You know Fernando has been close with your family for years, has watched you grow up into the young woman you are today. He’s always treated you like his own daughter.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you say, meaning it. Spending time with Fernando is guaranteed to lift your spirits. “Your place in Silverstone, right?”

“That’s the one. Get packing and don’t worry about a thing. I’ll see you very soon.”

You hang up and immediately start throwing clothes and essentials into an overnight bag with a renewed sense of hope. Fernando always knows just what to do to make you feel better.

Two hours later, you’re being ushered into the backseat of a sleek black sedan by a courteous driver in a pressed suit. He takes your bag and stows it in the trunk before sliding behind the wheel.

“Miss Webber? I’ll be taking you to Mr. Alonso’s residence now.”

You nod, suddenly exhausted from all the crying. The driver seems to sense your melancholy because he doesn’t try to make small talk.

The English countryside whips by in a blur of green fields and quaint villages. Before you know it, the sedan is pulling up to an impressive brick estate surrounded by beautifully manicured gardens.

The driver lets you out and leads you up to the front door, which swings open before you can knock. Fernando stands there in a soft white sweater and dark-washed jeans, arms open wide.

“Pequeña!” His eyes crinkle at the corners as he pulls you into a fierce hug. “Welcome, welcome.”

You breathe in his comforting scent of sandalwood and citrus as he rubs soothing circles on your back. “I’m glad you came,” he murmurs.

He ushers you inside and you can’t help but gape at the tasteful, modern interior decor. It’s bright and airy, with huge windows offering views of the impeccable gardens beyond.

“This place is incredible, Nando,” you say, trailing behind him as he leads you through the spacious living room towards what appears to be the kitchen.

“You like?” He grins over his shoulder. “I had it remodeled not too long ago. Here, have a seat.” He pulls out a barstool at the huge kitchen island.

You take a seat, settling your elbows on the cool granite surface as Fernando busies himself at the stove. “So,” he says without turning around. “Tell me everything, from the beginning. Don’t leave out a single detalle.”

You sigh, resting your chin in your hands as Fernando starts pulling ingredients from the fridge. “Well, it started a few weeks ago. ..”

You recount all the little things that, in hindsight, were red flags: the constant emailing and texting, the unusually long nights “studying” at the library, the bizarre excuses. Fernando listens intently, occasionally tossing in a sympathetic “maldito idiota” or an indignant shake of his head.

Finally, you get to the part where you finally confronted your now ex about his shady behavior … only to have him confess that he’d been cheating on you for months with some underclassman sociology major.

By the time you’ve finished, your voice is thick from holding back a fresh wave of tears. Fernando sets down the knife he was using to chop vegetables and comes around the island to pull you into another hug.

“Oh, pequeña,” he murmurs into your hair. “Lo siento mucho. You didn’t deserve any of that, you hear me?”

You just nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Fernando rubs your back again before pulling away, hands on your shoulders so he can look you square in the eyes.

“Listen. That boy?” A feisty glint enters his warm hazel eyes. “He’s a fool, a complete and total imbecile for hurting someone as incredible as you. You’re so brave, so strong, so full of life ...” He tucks an errant strand of hair behind your ear. “And any man should consider himself the luckiest in the world to have you in his life, you understand?”

You manage a watery smile and nod again. Leave it to Fernando to know exactly what to say to begin mending your broken heart.

“Good.” He straightens up, clapping his hands together decisively. “Now dry those tears, pequeña. I’m making my famous seafood paella for dinner tonight and I’ll need my best assistant chef!”

You let out a surprised laugh, swiping at the dampness on your cheeks. “You know I’m a disaster in the kitchen.”

“Nonsense!” Fernando waves a dismissive hand as he returns to the cutting board. “Everyone can learn with a little guidance from Chef Nano, no?”

The next couple of hours pass in a blur of cheerful chopping, stirring, and laughing as Fernando walks you through the steps, nudging you gently whenever you veer off course. It’s impossible to stay weighed down by your sadness when he’s cracking jokes in that irreverent way of his and peppering you with silly kitchen nicknames.

By the time you’ve portioned out the fragrant saffron rice studded with shrimp, mussels, and clams into bowls, you’re doubled over in a fit of giggles from Fernando’s dramatic retelling of his past Formula 1 antics.

“... And then this crazy Australian madman comes barreling into the pit and just starts laying into me!” He throws his hands up, eyes dancing with mirth. “If Charlie hadn’t stepped in, I think your old man really might’ve killed me that day!”

You shake your head, still laughing as you take your first bite of the paella. It’s absolute perfection, the flavors melding together in an incredible symphony on your tongue. “My dad really went after you?”

“Oh yeah,” Fernando chuckles, digging into his own bowl. “We were like two crazed animals back then whenever we were on the track together. Couldn’t stand each other.”

There’s a lull as you both focus on eating for a few minutes. When you’re pleasantly full and satiated, you sit back with a contented sigh.

“Nando, that was hands down the best paella I’ve ever had.”

“You flatter me too much.” He waves a hand, but you can tell he’s pleased. “Just wait until tomorrow, when Chef Nano teaches you how to make the perfect tortilla Española, eh?”

The idea of getting to spend more time with Nando and being cooked for brings a genuine, untroubled smile to your face for the first time in days. This is just what you needed to start healing from your recent heartbreak.

***

As you help Fernando clear the dishes, a comfortable silence settles between you. He pours you both generous glasses of his favorite Spanish rioja and you retire to the plush living room sofas.

Fernando settles into the overstuffed armchair across from you, stretching out his lean legs as he takes a sip of wine. “So, pequeña ...” He fixes you with that warm, piercing gaze. “What is it you really want? In a man, I mean.”

You pause, considering his question as you swirl the ruby liquid in your glass. “I … I’m not sure I know anymore, to be honest. I thought I had it all figured out with ...” You trail off, unable to even say your ex’s name without a pang of hurt lancing through you.

Fernando reaches over to pat your knee comfortingly. “Hey, no more tears, okay? That pendejo is in the past. I’m asking what your ideal partner would be like going forward. What do you want, need, deserve from a man?”

You take a fortifying sip of the bold, peppery wine before responding. “I think … more than anything, I just want to feel cherished. Valued. Like I’m the most important person in his world.”

Fernando’s expression softens. “Oh, pequeña. You have such a big, beautiful heart. Of course that’s what you want — to be adored and treated like the incredible woman you are.”

You duck your head, warmth blooming in your cheeks at his praise. “I don’t know, Nando. Maybe I’m just being naive or asking for too much ...”

“Claro que no!” He leans forward, pinning you with an intense look. “You’re allowed to want those things, pequeña. You’re allowed to be selfish when it comes to your heart and what you need to be truly, deeply happy.”

His words resonate somewhere deep within you and you find yourself nodding slowly. “You’re right. I am allowed to want someone who makes me their whole world and never takes me for granted, aren’t I?”

“Exactamente.” Fernando reaches over to grasp your hands, his calloused fingers engulfing yours. “And let me tell you — any man who doesn’t give you that is un verdadero idiota. You deserve to be cherished, worshipped, put up on a pedestal every single day.”

His dark eyes burn with conviction, lips pressed into a serious line. You find yourself unable to look away, mesmerized by the sheer intensity of his words and manner.

“You deserve everything, pequeña,” he continues in a low, gravelly tone. “A man who makes you his whole priority, who loves you with every fiber of his being. Someone who will lay the world at your feet.”

Fernando reaches up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb stroking over the apple of your cheekbone reverently. The calloused pad of it sends a shiver racing down your spine.

“Someone who looks at you and can scarcely breathe for how lucky, how blessed they are to have you in their life ...”

His face is so close to yours now, his warm breath caressing your lips. You’re completely transfixed, body thrumming with barely restrained tension and … anticipation?

Fernando’s next words are barely more than a hoarse rumble. “I will cherish you, pequeña. Always. Allow me to show you how a real man adores the woman he loves.”

And then his mouth is on yours, hot and insistent and tasting of wine and desire. You gasp into the kiss, frozen for a split second before melting against him, kissing him back with equal fervor. Your hands slide up to tangle in the soft strands at the nape of his neck as he angles his head, deepening the heated exchange.

Fernando groans low in his throat, the vibrations shooting straight to your core. His large, nimble hands come up to frame your face, holding you in place as he takes his time thoroughly exploring your mouth, nibbling at your lips, stroking his talented tongue against yours in a way that has you whimpering into him.

He pulls away slightly and you chase his lips with a soft keen of protest. Fernando chuckles darkly, nosing along your jaw.

“Patience, pequeña,” he rumbles against the sensitive skin just below your ear. “As sweet as that gorgeous mouth is, there are so many other parts of you I’ve been longing to taste ...”

A full-body shudder wracks you at his words, at the sheer need and promise lacing his tone. Part of you is stunned by how quickly the atmosphere between you has shifted, how easily you fell into his passionate embrace.

But a much larger part — the part that has admired and idolized this man since you were knee-high — is utterly intoxicated. Delirious with the knowledge that the love you’ve secretly harbored for Fernando for years is, impossibly, reciprocated.

His mouth is trailing hot, openmouthed kisses along the column of your throat and you tilt your head back with a wanton moan, reveling in the rasp of his day-old stubble against your sensitized skin.

“N-Nando ...” You try to put a protesting note in your voice, but it comes out a pleading whine instead. “Are you sure about this? I’m … I’m just a kid to you.”

He rears back to pin you with a look so full of naked want it makes you squirm. “You stopped being a kid a long time ago, pequeña,” he growls. “I’ve been watching you grow into this gorgeous, fiery woman and it’s taken everything in me not to take you into my arms like this until now.”

His hands roam down to palm your waist, fingers flexing possessively against the dip of your sides. You’re breathless, dizzy, wondering if you’ve stumbled into some incredible, wildly realistic dream.

Because surely this — with your longtime crush, the older man you’ve harbored forbidden fantasies about pulling you flush against his strong frame and lavishing kisses up the side of your neck — cannot be real. Can it?

“It’s real, pequeña. So, so real,” Fernando croons, as if reading your mind. He frames your face again, searing you with another passionate kiss that steals your breath and chases away any remaining doubts. “Feel how real it is,” he murmurs, guiding your hands down to the firm evidence of his arousal straining against the soft denim.

You whimper into his mouth, tentatively palming the thick bulge. Fernando hisses in a sharp breath through his teeth and breaks the kiss to press his forehead to yours. His eyes are tightly shut, long lashes fanning across sunkissed skin.

“F-fuck, pequeña,” he chokes out in a ragged voice. “Been dreaming of those little hands on me for years.”

Something inside you shifts at his confession, like a dam of long repressed want and need cracking open. You suddenly feel bolder, empowered by the effect you’re having on this man — this god among men who you’ve put on a pedestal for so long.

Maintaining heated eye contact, you slowly drag your hand up the length of his erection in one firm stroke that has Fernando’s hips jerking up as he curses vehemently in Spanish.

“Like this?” You rasp, a blatant challenge in your tone as you repeat the motion.

Fernando’s eyes flash hungrily and then he’s surging forward again, capturing your lips in another punishing kiss that leaves you lightheaded and alight with lust.

“Just like that, mi amor,” he growls when he releases your mouth with a final nip at your lower lip. “Now it’s my turn to cherish you ...”

With that, he loops an arm behind your knees and rises in one smooth, powerful motion, hoisting you up into a secure bridal carry. You yelp in surprise, hands flying up to cling to his broad shoulders.

“Nando! What are you, mmph-”

Your protest is cut off by his mouth slanting over yours in another heated kiss. Fernando maneuvers you easily as he starts carrying you towards the staircase, hiking your dainty linen dress up around your thighs.

“I’m making good on my promise, pequeña,” he murmurs hotly against your swollen lips. “Bedroom. Now. Going to lay you out and cherish every sweet inch of that gorgeous body, just like you deserve.”

Unbidden, a soft whine slips from your throat at his heated words. You tighten your grip on his shoulders, fingers digging into the firm muscle there as a fresh wave of arousal floods through you, hot and insistent.

Fernando chuckles darkly, adjusting his grip on you as he starts up the stairs. “That’s it, let me hear how much you want this too.”

You open your mouth to respond but only a needy whine escapes as Fernando hitches you higher in his arms, the movement causing delicious friction against your core.

“I want, ngh-” Your words dissolve into another needy noise as Fernando nips at the juncture of your neck and shoulder in reprimand.

“Use your words, pequeña,” he rumbles against your tingling skin. “Tell me what you want.”

You don’t have a chance to reply before he’s kicking open a door and striding into what must be the bedroom, depositing you gently onto the plush center of an enormous bed. Fernando looms over you, chest heaving as he rakes his heated gaze over your prone form in a way that makes you shudder.

“Nando, I … I want you,” you finally manage, fighting past your shyness to meet his burning stare. “Want you to cherish me, cherish every part of me, like you promised.”

Fernando’s eyes darken further at your words and he slowly, purposefully begins lifting his sweater, never looking away from you.

“Good girl,” he praises in that deep, gruff tone that has your thighs pressing together instinctively. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

He shrugs off the soft knit, revealing a toned, hair-dusted chest and abdominal muscles carved from years of intense athletic training. You can’t help but drink in the display of his powerful body as he reaches for the buckle of his belt.

Fernando doesn’t miss your frank appraisal, a cocky smirk tugging at his full lips. “Like what you see, pequeña?”

You bite your lip and give a small, shameless nod. His grin widens and with a few deft flicks of his wrist, Fernando’s belt is undone and sliding free of its loops. You watch, rapt, as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans and boxer briefs in one smooth motion.

“Then no more teasing,” he promises in a low, heated rasp. “Tonight you’ll have as much of me as you can handle.”

With that, Fernando pushes his trousers and underwear down over his hips in one go, springing free in all his thick, flushed glory. Your eyes widen and you suck in a sharp breath at the sheer size of him, mouth going dry with naked want.

Fernando steps forward until he’s standing at the edge of the mattress, gloriously nude and incredibly aroused. He crouches down, bringing himself eye-level with your flushed face as he reaches out to gently take your hands in his calloused grip.

“Are you sure, pequeña?” He searches your gaze intently. “Because once I claim you, mark you as mine in every way … there’s no going back. I won’t ever let you go.”

His raw confession hangs in the heated air between you. You meet Fernando’s fiery gaze without faltering, threading your fingers through his in silent acceptance. His eyes blaze and then he’s surging up over you, capturing your mouth in another searing, all-consuming kiss as he slowly, reverently hikes your dress up and divests you of your last remaining garments.

You wind your arms around his thick neck, holding him close as Fernando settles between your splayed thighs with a low, guttural groan. He rears back just enough to pin you with another scorching look, stealing your breath.

“You’re mine now, pequeña,” he vows roughly, guiding his thick length to your slick entrance. “And I’m going to spend all night cherishing this sweet body, just like you deserve ...”

Fernando braces himself above you with one powerful forearm, using his free hand to grip your thigh and hitch your leg higher around his lean hips. You keen softly as the new angle allows him to sink even deeper, filling you up so deliciously.

He drops his forehead to yours, dark eyes locked on your parted lips as he starts rocking into you with slow, measured strokes. Each deliberate grind of his pelvis against yours has you whimpering, nails raking down the flexing planes of his back.

“That’s it, pequeña,” Fernando croons, punctuating his words with a sharp roll of his hips that has you crying out. “Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”

You try to muffle your sounds against his broad shoulder, but Fernando isn’t having it. He slides the hand not braced on the mattress up to cup the back of your neck, tilting your head so your mouths are a hairsbreadth apart.

“No, no … I want to hear every gorgeous, needy little noise,” he rumbles, lips brushing yours with each scorching word. “Want to hear you begging for more of my cock, stretching you so perfectly ...”

A desperate whine slips free at his filthy words, your walls fluttering around his rigid length in defiant response. Fernando rewards you by capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his talented tongue teasing against yours as he picks up the pace of his thrusts.

You moan brokenly into his mouth, legs locking around his narrow waist as Fernando sets a rhythm of steady, pounding strokes. Each slick glide has you building higher and higher, pleasure bordering on overwhelming. It’s so much after so much time without, yet somehow not enough.

You tear your lips from his with a ragged gasp, throwing your head back against the pillows. “M-More, Nando! Please … ah!”

Fernando grunts in approval at your needy plea, hips snapping forward to bury himself deeper. “As you wish, pequeña ...”

He sits up further on his knees, using the new leverage to drive into you with increased force and intensity. The lewd noises of your joining fill the air — skin slapping against skin, your cries of pleasure mingling with Fernando’s low groans of exertion.

Part of you feels like you should be embarrassed by the wanton sounds spilling from your lips. But a much bigger part is just reveling in the indescribable feeling of being taken apart so thoroughly by this incredible man’s skilled body.

Fernando hooks an arm under one of your knees, nearly bending you in half as he leans down to mouth hot, openmouthed kisses from your collarbone up the slender column of your throat. You keen wildly, fingers spasming against the rippling muscles of his back.

“Do you want it harder, pequeña?” He growls the filthy words against the racing pulse point under your jaw. “Want Papi to fuck you just like the needy little girl you are?”

A choked whimper is all you can manage in response, rendered incoherent by his merciless onslaught against that sensitive cluster of nerves deep inside you.

Fernando’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk against the side of your neck and then he’s driving into you with renewed vigor, hips pistoning in short, brutally powerful snaps that quickly have you keening. Your nails leave stinging welts in their wake as they drag down Fernando’s glistening shoulders and back, but he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“That’s it, taking me so well,” he grits out through clenched teeth, each word punctuated by a nasty grind of his hips that has you crying out. “Such a good girl for Papi, con esas caderas tan estrechas ...”

His dirty Spanish murmurs nearly do you in, shooting white-hot sparks of pleasure-pain arcing across your nerve endings. You swear your vision nearly whites out entirely when his calloused fingers find your swollen bud, stroking firmly in tight, rapid circles that have you keening.

That familiar, coiling tension is rapidly becoming too much to bear. You can feel your orgasm fast approaching, building and building with each punishing thrust into your greedy little hole and stroke against that hypersensitive bundle of nerves.

“Nando, Nando,” you pant, clutching desperately at his flexing biceps as your thighs begin to tremble uncontrollably. “I’m gonna, ah, fuck, I can’t-”

Fernando’s response is a series of harsh Spanish curses that would make a sailor blush. His mouth crashes against yours in a searing, messy kiss, swallowing your cries as he fucks you right through your release.

Wave after relentless wave of excruciating ecstasy crashes over you. You tremble and wail into Fernando’s mouth, pulled taut as a bowstring as he milks every last exquisite pulse from you with those sharp, unforgiving snaps of his hips.

Just when you think the pleasure searing along every nerve ending will break you into pieces, Fernando’s rhythm falters. He rears back, baring his teeth in a feral snarl that sends a fresh shock of desire arrowing straight to your core.

“Going to fill you up now, pequeña,” he grits out in a gravelly tone laced with strain. “Make you nice and, ah mierda, messy with Papi’s cum ...”

The sheer filth of his words, combined with his furious tempo draws animalistic whimpers from deep in your chest. You lock your ankles at the small of his back, taking him deeper as he starts to lose control.

“Please, Nando!” You beg shamelessly, reaching up to dig your fingers into the straining chords of muscle in his back and shoulders. “Please cum inside me, wanna be yours, wanna-”

Fernando cuts off your fervent cries with a harsh growl and then he’s slamming home one final time, burying himself to the hilt as he spills molten heat deep in your convulsing channel with a stream of strained Spanish curses.

You shudder and cry out at the incredible sensation of being filled so completely, holding him flush to you while he pulses and throbs. Fernando captures your lips in another searing kiss, fucking his tongue into your mouth in time with the shallow rolls of his hips as he spends himself.

Just when you think the incredible intensity of his release will never end, the shrill trill of a ringtone shatters the sweaty, panting silence of the bedroom.

Fernando goes rigid above you, finally breaking the fevered kiss with a curse that shoots straight to your over-sensitized core.

“Fucking hell, now?”

His tone is one of pure annoyance as his darkly tousled head whips towards the nightstand where his mobile is ringing incessantly. One large hand flexes against the sheets beside your head, ready to simply ignore the call.

Until, that is, he sees the caller ID and his entire demeanor shifts from one of irritation to something more sheepish. He immediately sits up on his haunches, the movement tugging at your overstuffed, abused entrance in the most delicious way and drawing a helpless whimper from you.

Fernando fixes you with a heated look, plush lower lip caught between his teeth as he drinks in your disheveled, satisfied state sprawled wantonly across his rumpled sheets. Only then does he make a sudden, aborted movement to grab the still-ringing phone, gaze flickering down to where you’re obscenely joined.

“Don’t you dare pull out,” you pant in warning, clenching down hard around him as he shifts to reach for the mobile. Fernando groans explosively at the vice-like grip, arm falling back to brace himself against the mattress.

“Insatiable,” he accuses with a dark chuckle. He somehow manages to snag the still-trilling phone without dislodging himself and you shamelessly squeeze down even tighter in petty retaliation. Fernando tosses you a smoldering glare that makes heat lick along your nerve endings before he finally answers.

“Hola?” His deep voice is rougher than usual, gravelly from the thoroughly ravished state you’ve put him in.

“Fernando! Mate, it’s me.” Your father’s crisp Aussie tone immediately filters through the speaker and you inadvertently clench down again in panic.

Fernando’s lips peel back in a mild wince before smoothing back into that trademark smug grin of his. He drops his free hand to splay possessively over your lower abdomen, thumb rubbing idle circles into the soft, oversensitized skin there as he regards you with dark, hooded eyes.

“Mark!” He greets your father with forced nonchalance, even as the pads of his calloused fingers dip dangerously close to where you’re still intimately joined. “What can I do for you?”

There’s a pregnant pause during which you can practically picture the slight frown creasing your dad’s brow at Fernando’s strange tone. “Er, sorry to bother you, Nando. I was just ringing to see if my daughter made it to you alright?”

You suck in a sharp breath, eyes going wide as Fernando’s lips quirk up in a devilish smirk. Instead of answering right away, he drags the tip of one finger agonizingly slowly through your damp curls in a wordless warning.

Biting your lip to stifle a moan, you obediently stop clenching your internal muscles, allowing Fernando to sink that few extra incredible inches back inside you with a roll of his hips. His eyes burn with smug satisfaction when you keen softly at the feeling of being so deliciously full.

“She arrived safe and sound,” Fernando finally replies, voice gone low and rough in a way that has your thighs trying to clench instinctively. He holds you open by digging the heel of his palm against your mound, lips twitching when you whimper. “I’m taking very … very good care of her. You don’t need to worry.”

Another pause from your father’s end, this one even longer. You can picture the perplexed furrow in his brow deepening as he tries to figure out the strange undercurrent in Fernando’s tone.

“Right … well, good then. I just wanted to check in and make sure she got there okay after that whole mess with her asshole of an ex.”

You shudder at the memory, hips shifting restlessly against Fernando’s calloused palm in a plea for friction, pressure, anything. He simply watches you squirm with darkly glittering eyes, lazily rubbing his thumb in soothing little circles just below your navel.

“Trust me,” Fernando finally rumbles, voice gone low and graveled in a way that sends a shiver of desire arcing down your spine. “Your little girl is being very well looked after, in every way.”

Your cheeks burn hot at the blatant innuendo lacing his words. Fernando’s smirk widens, like he enjoys seeing you so flustered, before he continues in a tone of exaggerated innocence. “She’s been … quite the handful, really, but I don’t mind.”

Your breath hitches in your throat and you shoot him a betrayed look, clenching reflexively around the thick length still sheathed snugly inside you. Fernando arches one artfully sculpted brow as if in challenge, using his free hand to firmly grip one of your thighs and wrench your legs obscenely further apart in clear retaliation.

You muffle a whimper into the sheets as the new position allows him to grind deeper, that delicious friction quickly unraveling your will to stay quiet. You can already feel the coil of need building rapidly once more with each shallow roll of Fernando’s hips.

“What was that?” Your dad’s mildly bewildered voice suddenly crackles over the line, jarring you back to the reality of the situation.

Cheeks burning with a mixture of arousal and mortification, you blindly grasp for one of the pillows to muffle the series of pitiful noises now spilling past your lips as Fernando ups the intensity of his thrusts.

He leans in closer until the two of you are practically nose-to-nose, teeth sinking into that plush lower lip when you instinctively tighten around him like a velvet vise. Fernando’s eyes roll back briefly before fixing back on you, dark and fathomless as the depths of the Mediterranean.

“Nothing to worry about over here,” he pants through gritted teeth, one hand leaving its bruising grip on your thigh to curl around the back of your neck and pull you into a searing, filthy kiss designed to swallow any incriminating sounds. “Like I said. Just … taking very good care of your little girl.”

There’s one final confused little hum from your father before the line clicks off with a hollow beep. Fernando instantly drops the phone and slants his mouth hungrily over yours once more, all thoughts of the call instantly forgotten as he resumes fucking up into you with renewed vigor.

“My little girl, aren’t you pequeña?” He grates against your lips, punctuating each word with a scorching grind of his hips that has sparks bursting behind your eyelids. “Going to be a good girl and cum all over Papi’s cock again, sí?”

You can only nod wildly in agreement, nails raking down his broad back as that incredible tension inside you winds tighter and tighter. Fernando swallows your cries with his wicked, talented mouth, until finally you go rigid in his arms, back arched as your release rockets through you like a shockwave.

This time Fernando doesn’t even attempt to stifle your hoarse, animalistic keening, merely rearing back to watch in fascination as your complexion colors and your eyes roll back. He growls your name like a prayer, hips snapping erratically as he uses your convulsive flutters to chase his own high. Fernando’s chiseled features contort in pleasure, teeth sinking into his own lip hard enough to draw blood when you bear down with the vise-like strength of your release.

“F-Fuck … gonna … gonna fill you up again,” he grits out, thick cock jerking deep inside your molten depths. “Make you … gonna ah … make you mine forever this time, pequeña ...”

The gravelly promise in his tone somehow penetrates the sweaty, lust-hazed cocoon surrounding you. Your eyes fly open just in time to witness Fernando’s own clenched shut, jaw dropped in a growl as he buries himself to the hilt with one final, bruising grind of his pelvis.

You cry out at the incredible sensation of his release flooding your already stuffed channel with scorching ropes of thick seed. Fernando lets out a shuddering moan of pure gratification, hips working in short, shallow thrusts to pump every last pulse of his sticky essence into your greedy little womb.

When the last tremor of his climax has wrung through him, he drops bonelessly on top of you in a sweaty, panting tangle of sated limbs. You whimper quietly at the delicious feeling of his weight pinning you to the mattress, his softening length still lodged snugly inside as the two of you bask in the afterglow.

Fernando nuzzles into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, pressing lazy, opened-mouthed kisses to your slick, overheated skin. His talented fingers trace abstract patterns up and down your sides, touch reverent as his gravelly voice rumbles against you.

“Going to get you nice and full, pequeña. Fill you up again and again until my baby takes ...”

A violent shudder wracks through you at the filthy promise in his words. Fernando chuckles darkly, gathering you closer against his sweat-slicked chest as his hand drifts down to cup your lower abdomen with tender possessiveness.

“That’s it, let it sink in,” he croons, fingertips rubbing in gentle circles. “My seed taking root deep inside this sweet little womb, putting a baby in your belly ...”

He punctuates the words with a firm press of his palm that has you gasping, walls fluttering greedily around the thick shaft still impaling you. Fernando makes a noise of deep approval low in his throat.

“Going to keep you just like this,” he vows in a tone that brooks no argument, hot and heavy against the sensitive shell of your ear. “Barefoot and pregnant in my bed, that gorgeous body swollen and glowing with my hijo ...”

You whimper at the image his words conjure up — your belly rounded and stretched taut with Fernando’s child, heavy breasts leaking as you cradle his son or daughter. Fernando husks out a laugh at your reaction, nosing along the line of your jaw until you meet his heated gaze.

“You like that idea, don’t you pequeña?” His eyes glitter with a mixture of desire and predatory satisfaction. “Being tied to me forever, in the most permanent way possible?”

You can only nod dumbly, suddenly rendered mute by the depths of your own yearning. Of course you want that — to carry this incredible man’s legacy inside you for all the world to see. To belong to him, completely.

Fernando rumbles his approval against your swollen lips, cupping the back of your head to angle your mouth for a tender, lingering kiss. When he finally breaks away, you try to chase his mouth with a breathless whimper of protest.

“Shh, patience, pequeña,” he murmurs indulgently, thumb stroking over your slick lower lip. His eyes are dancing with dark promise. “You’ll have plenty of time to take your fill of me in the coming months while I breed you over ...”

He kisses the words into the hollow of your throat, teeth grazing the rapid flutter of your pulse point.

“... and over ...” Fernando rolls you onto your back in one smoothly powerful motion, settling his weight over you as he lips trail a blazing path down your abdomen.

“... and over again.” His tongue dips briefly into your navel before he nuzzles lower, nose nudging through your damp curls until his warm breath ghosts over your overstimulated sex. You suck in a ragged gasp, thighs trembling with anticipation as Fernando glances up at you from under those ridiculously long lashes.

“Until it finally takes,” he finishes with a wicked grin before ducking down to swipe one firm lick through your folds. You nearly black out from the electric shock of pleasure-pain, broken cries echoing through the bedroom as Fernando sets to work thoroughly mapping every intimate inch of you with that devilishly skilled mouth and tongue.

True to his filthy promise, Fernando keeps you until the first rosy hints of dawn are just beginning to lighten the horizon outside, thoroughly ravishing your helpless body over and over again until you’re boneless and incoherent with satiation.

It’s only when the first few birds have begun to chirp their morning songs that he finally relents, blanketing you with his solid weight one last time. Fernando’s lips are kiss-swollen as they trail up the line of your throat to find yours in one more long, thorough kiss that leaves you totally plundered.

“Sleep now, pequeña,” he rumbles against your parted mouth, gathering you close as his hand drifts down to splay possessively over the slight tautness of your lower abdomen. “Let my release take nice and deep inside you ...”

You slip into unconsciousness to the sensation of Fernando’s calloused fingertips rubbing soothing circles over your skin and the imprinted promise of his low, sleep-roughened vows.

“I’m going to put a baby in you, pequeña. Going to breed you so full of my children until you’re round and glowing with them … that’s a promise.”

***

Six Months Later

Fernando can’t keep the swell of pride and possessiveness from blooming in his chest as he guides you through the paddock with a supportive hand on the small of your back. His dark gaze keeps flickering down to admire the swell of your belly peeking out beneath the flowing summer dress you’ve chosen for today.

He feels like a conquering king surveying his latest prize as you waddle adorably at his side, the golden sunlight caressing your features and lending a rosy flush to your glowing complexion. Fernando has never seen a more beautiful, ethereal sight than you in this moment — rounded with his child, your body transformed by the life blossoming within.

His hand subconsciously moves to cup the subtle curve of your belly as you pause to allow a team member to pass. Fernando feels a fresh surge of scorching desire and smug satisfaction race through his veins when you instinctively cover his hand with yours, cradling his palm against the taut swell.

“Easy there, pequeña,” he rumbles with a wolfish grin, leaning in until his lips brush the delicate shell of your ear. “We’re in public, remember? Wouldn’t want to give these pendejos an eyeful of how insaciable my little girl has become since getting knocked up ...”

A delightful shiver visibly ripples through you at his words, those gorgeous eyes fluttering shut for the briefest of moments before fixed back on him blown wide and dark with rekindled want. Fernando lets out a low chuckle of approval, arm winding around your waist to pull you flush against his side.

Just then, a familiar figure comes striding around the corner, brows low and thunderous as they zero in on the embrace Fernando has you locked in. Mark Webber falters mid-step as he takes in the rather obvious changes to your body, chin dropping in a comical picture of dumbstruck shock.

Fernando can’t resist angling the two of you forward just enough to emphasize the prominent curve of your belly straining against the flowy fabric of your summer dress. He watches your father’s expression morph from surprise, to confusion, then slowly … realization as the pieces begin to click into place.

Within seconds, Mark’s eyes have narrowed to slits of rage, mouth curling back in a snarl of anger as he picks up his pace and stalks towards the pair of you. Fernando’s own smug expression slips, features settling into a hard mask as he angles his body slightly in front of yours on instinct.

“You motherfucking piece of shit-” Your father snarls, face taking on an alarming reddish hue as he rears back and swings at Fernando.

Fernando manages to sidestep the worst of the blow at the last second, feeling only a glancing impact against his left cheekbone before Mark closes in again with balled fists raised. Behind him, you let out a strangled cry of dismay, reaching out helplessly to grasp at the back of his shirt.

“Dad, no! Fernando, please-”

But Fernando is already sinking into a fighting stance, knees slightly bent and weight evenly distributed. He blocks another wild swing from Mark with ease, allowing the Australian’s momentum to carry him past so Fernando can land a swift, open-handed punch against the side of his head.

The sharp retaliatory crack has Mark stumbling sideways, snarling like an enraged animal. For one brief, wildly intense moment, the two former rivals simply square off — sizing one another up like they’ve done a hundred times before on various circuits when they were both still competing.

From anyone else, Fernando might have been able to laugh off this overreaction, shrug it aside as the misguided anger of a hotblooded father learning his young daughter is now expecting. But this is Mark Webber — a man who has proven himself as fiery and formidable an opponent as they come.

Fernando won’t admit it aloud, but a tiny thrill of excitement races through him at the prospect of a proper throwdown with his old nemesis turned friend. He throws you a quick glance over his shoulder, assessing if he needs to move you further away before the situation escalates.

You surprise him by shaking your head adamantly, those beautiful eyes blazing with protective fury of your own as you plant yourself squarely in between the two men.

“Fernando, don’t hurt him,” you plead, gaze flickering between him and the bristling Aussie now clambering back to his feet. “He’s just-”

“Being a bloody psychopathic bastard,” Mark spits, wiping a hand across his rapidly swelling lip. His hateful glare lands accusingly on the prominent swell of your middle. “Fucking hell , Nando. She’s just a kid-”

Fernando feels his own temper ratcheting up several notches at the venom and dismissal lacing the other man’s tone. He takes an aggressive step forward, forcing you back behind the shield of his powerful frame.

“Don’t talk about her like she isn’t here to defend herself,” Fernando growls, unconcerned that they’re rapidly drawing an audience from the swarm of crew personnel surrounding them.

He arches a challenging brow at your father’s scathing glower. “What’s wrong? Upset that while you were off galivanting around the globe, I was putting a baby in your daughter’s belly?”

Mark lets out an outraged roar, lurching forward to throw another wild haymaker that Fernando easily ducks under. You cry out in distress, hands coming up to grip at Fernando’s biceps from behind as you try to bodily pull him away from the furious Australian’s reach.

“Both of you, stop!” Your shrill voice cuts through the tense alleyway, causing both men to pause for a split-second and glance towards you. “Nando, don’t provoke him! And you-” You aim an accusatory finger at your seething father. “Lay one more hand on Fernando and I swear to god-”

Whatever heated threat you were preparing goes unvoiced as a sudden aura of pain visibly ripples across your features, brow furrowing and lips parting on a pained gasp. Your hands instinctively fly down to cradle your belly, entire body locking up with tension.

Fernando’s heart leaps into his throat as he recognizes the clear signs of distress from months spent doting upon your every subtle twinge and discomfort. Immediately, his previous temper fades into a dull, distant roar easily overshadowed by the all-consuming need to ensure your well-being.

“Pequeña?” He’s at your side in an instant, gripping your upper arms to steady you as a light sheen of perspiration blooms on your brow. “Breathe through it, mi amor … just breathe, okay?”

“I-I’m fine,” you manage in a tight voice. “Just a twinge. The excitement is probably too mu-ahh!”

You gasp again, nails digging punishingly into Fernando’s forearms as your knees threaten to buckle. All hints of masculine posturing flee his mind as Fernando smoothly sweeps you up into a secure bridal carry, heedless of the soft whimpers of discomfort now trickling past your parted lips.

He locks eyes with a stunned Mark over your bent crown, gaze impassive and steady. “You heard her. The excitement is too much. We’re leaving.”

Without waiting for a response, Fernando swivels on his heel and marches back the way you’d originally come with you cradled protectively against his chest. He keeps his strides measured and unhurried, but still manages to put a fair amount of distance between the pair of you and your father’s petulant anger in a matter of moments.

Once you’ve rounded a quiet corner alcove, Fernando gently lowers you to a relatively secluded stack of equipment crates, bracing your lower back and guiding you into a seated position.

“Wait here,” he murmurs against your hairline, dropping a fleeting kiss to the rapidly dampening strands stuck to your brow. Fernando’s fingers ghost down to cradle your belly once more, silently assessing for any areas of increased tension. “I’ll be back in just a moment with some water and a physio, alright?”

You nod weakly, squirming to rest back against the cool metal behind you as another pained grimace flits across your features. Fernando feels his heart clench at the wretched, lost expression clouding your eyes.

Cupping your cheek, he tilts your chin up until you meet his heated gaze. “Don’t look so afraid, pequeña. Everything will be fine, you’ll see.”

Fernando leans in until his nose brushes against yours, allowing the familiar closeness and the scent of his cedar and bergamot cologne to soothe you. “Our little one is just reminding us who’s boss, that’s all. But Papi’s here … I’ll take care of both of you, sí?”

You manage a weak smile at that, some of the tension bleeding from your delicate features as you nod against his palm. Fernando presses one more lingering kiss to your brow before reluctantly pulling away.

“I’ll be right back, mi vida. Just breathe deeply for me in the meantime.”

With one final reassuring caress to your belly, Fernando turns on his heel and strides back out into the bustling paddock area. His jaw is set in a tense line, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he mentally catalogs which team staff he needs to track down.

Rounding a corner, Fernando very nearly barrels straight into the rigid form of your father standing there with arms crossed, clearly waiting to waylay him. The Aussie’s expression is thunderous, eyes blazing with hurt and undisguised fury.

“So that’s it then?” Mark bites out in a tone of barely restrained aggression. “You’ve gone and knocked up my little girl. My own daughter, Nando ...”

Fernando holds up a dismissive hand, in no mood to allow your father’s misplaced anger to provoke another confrontation — not when you’re so clearly in distress. “Don’t start with me again.” His tone is low, brooking no argument. “Your daughter is safe and being well looked after, that’s all that matters right now.”

With that, he moves to sidestep around Mark, only to find his path blocked by the other man’s broad chest as he steps directly into Fernando’s space. The former World Champion narrows his eyes warningly, feeling his temper ratcheting back up in the face of such insolence.

“Look, you arrogant Spanish prick,” Mark growls, lips peeling back in a menacing sneer. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but-”

Fernando abruptly cuts him off with a harsh bark of humorless laughter, dark eyes glittering dangerously. “A game?” He shakes his head slowly, expression one of vaguely disbelieving contempt. “You really think that’s all this is to me? Getting one up on you by deflowering your little girl and leaving her pregnant, alone, and disgraced?”

The other man flinches almost imperceptibly at the crass words, clearly thrown by Fernando’s frank disdain. The Spaniard presses on relentlessly. “Any man who would treat a situation like this so flippantly doesn’t deserve to consider themselves a real man at all — let alone a father.”

Mark’s face has turned an alarming shade of puce, whether from shame or sheer unchecked rage Fernando neither knows nor cares. He simply crowds further into the Australian’s space, heedless of how their chests nearly brush with each harsh exhalation.

“Make no mistake, I love that woman and the child she carries more than life itself,” Fernando states with conviction, cadence low and gravelly. “If you’re asking whether I intend to be there for them both as a partner, as a father … my answer is simple.”

He pauses just long enough to allow the weight of his next words to truly sink in.

“For as long as your daughter and my children will have me, you couldn’t pry me away from their sides with a fucking crowbar.”

Fernando holds your father’s seething gaze for one final beat, satisfaction lancing through him at seeing the other man seemingly robbed of his righteous anger. With a curt nod, he finally moves to brush past the speechless Australian without another word —intent on fetching the physio like he had originally set out to do.

Because in the end, Mark Webber’s approval means less than nothing to Fernando. All that matters is rushing back to your side and ensuring your safety and comfort. You and the new life blossoming within you are his entire world now.

As if to reaffirm the point, you suddenly appear around the corner, one hand braced protectively under the swell of your abdomen.

“Nando,” you breathe in a tremulous voice, blindly reaching for him. “The little one misses you ...”

Fernando instantly abandons all thoughts of confronting Mark, or retrieving a physio, or anything else as he rushes to gather you up in his arms once more. He cradles you tenderly to his chest as your fingers twist almost convulsively in the fabric of his Hugo Boss shirt, dark eyes wide and pleading.

Fernando glances down at you cradled protectively in his arms, heart clenching at the distressed furrow of your brow and shallow, panting breaths.

Readjusting his grip, he dips his head to murmur a string of soothing Spanish endearments against your sweat-dampened hairline as he carries you through the winding labyrinth of the paddock. His strides are measured but purposeful, not rushing — he needs to get you somewhere quiet and comfortable to recover from the ordeal.

Finally, Fernando spots a secluded alcove tucked away behind a cluster of tires. He quickly guides you over and gently lowers you onto an emptied workbench, cocooning you against his broad chest.

“There, there, pequeña,” he croons, lips brushing your brow. “Just breathe nice and deep for Papi, just like we practiced ...”

You nod weakly, fingers reflexively flexing against the solid planes of Fernando’s abdomen as you struggle to pull in deep gulps of air. He deftly tugs the neckline of your summer dress aside to expose more of your flushed skin, using the hem to dab away the perspiration beading on your chest and throat.

“That’s it, mi vida,” he praises in that dark, soothing timbre. “Just like that, easy does it ...”

Slowly, the tension bleeds from your features as the worst of the discomfort subsides. Fernando doesn’t dare loosen his supportive embrace, nor does he tear his increasingly heated gaze away from your parted lips as each measured exhale puffs across his skin.

“Better now?” He murmurs, thumb tracing the delicate arch of your cheekbone reverently. A rosy blush stains your complexion when you nod meekly, lashes fanning across those glorious cheekbones.

“Good girl,” Fernando rumbles, helpless not to drink in the gorgeous picture you make — cheeks flushed, lips swollen, eyes glazed with lingering stardust. He grips your jaw in a firm caress, tilting your chin up until your gazes lock.

“Because I must admit,” he husks softly, gaze darkening to molten whiskey. “Seeing you like this, with my child safe inside you … has me feeling quite possessive, pequeña.”

You shudder visibly at his words, tongue darting out to wet those plump lips in a blatant show of want. Fernando doesn’t miss the subtle gesture, allowing his gaze to dip briefly to track the slick path your tongue carves before fixing back on your rapidly dilating pupils.

“Would you like that, hmm?” He lowers his voice to a sensual rumble, skimming his thumb across your lower lip in a wordless command for access. “Having Papi show you just how adored, how cherished you and our little one inside you truly are?”

A whimper catches in the back of your throat as you readily accept the gentle press of Fernando’s calloused digit between your parted lips. Your eyes flutter shut on a trembling exhale as he slowly begins to glide the thick pad of his thumb across that heavenly softness, careful not to scrape the sensitive skin with his nail.

“That’s it, pequeña,” he growls, a tad hoarse as desire visibly burns behind those long lashes. “Suckle for me, let me take care of you both nice and proper ...”

Fernando rocks forward ever so slightly, allowing the swollen curve of your belly to brush against his solid abs with each tiny shuddering breath you drag in through your nose. He keeps up the lazy, hypnotic strokes of his thumb until you’re completely transfixed — hips shifting restlessly against his thighs and soft, muffled mewls escaping past the seal of your swollen lips.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, voice pitched low enough to rasp straight through you and ignite every raw nerve ending. “So sweet and responsive for Papi … going to reward that gorgeous little mouth in just a moment, I promise.”

You whine wantonly around his thumb in response, eyes fluttering back open to reveal pupils blown wide with naked yearning. Fernando chuckles indulgently, thumb tracing the delicate bow of your lower lip one final time before retreating fully.

“So eager,” he tuts without any real admonishment. Leaning in close, he angles his head to brush kiss-swollen lips against the outer shell of your ear. “Don’t fret, pequeña. I’ll take such good care of both of you right here, right now ...”

Fernando drops a lingering series of kisses along the line of your jaw, letting his lush mouth trail lower and lower with each heated murmur.

“Will remind you exactly who you belong to … who made you … who put this child in your belly ...”

His final words are an exhale ghosting out across your thundering pulse. Fernando immediately latches on with his teeth, nipping and sucking a series of stinging, possessive marks into your sensitized flesh that has you arching against him with a strangled cry of pure bliss.

Out here, cloaked in the shadow of the paddock where anyone could stumble across the two of you — your father included — and discover just how thoroughly Fernando has claimed you. The taboo thrill of it all is utterly intoxicating.

As your trembling fingers find purchase in his clothes, dragging him nearer with insistence, Fernando feels that familiar molten lick of possessive pride unfurl deep in his core. You are his now, fully and completely — mind, body, and soon … family.

Just the way it was always meant to be.

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