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requiemforthepoets · 1 month ago

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this time, i’ll love you much better

PAIRINGS: fernando alonso x ex-wife!reader

SUMMARY: your daughter had been insistent on you letting her attend a summer camp miles away from home, she was relentless, until you had gave up and let her go.

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, divorce, singe dad nando (for the meantime), piercing of ears, cutting hair, typos, not proofread, switching places, named characters (except yours), camp pranks, twin civil war, and cursing.

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: hi! i had already posted this fic before, but i decided to rewrite it bc i didn’t like how i wrote it before😅 it will be turned to series (again), and indecided to chop off other stuff and expound the story more. this was inspired by the movie ‘parent trap’ (1998), which is a favorite and comfort movie of mine. also, pls don’t pierce your own ear, this was just for the sake of the story, pls have your ears pierced by a professional!

to those who had read this fic before, i hope thay you’ll like this new version. comments and reblogs are highly appreciated. enjoy reading!

ONE - CAMP WALDEN

𖤓 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒘𝒐 ☽

The warm evening breeze filtered through the lush gardens, the soft, ambience music mingling with the chatter of guests dressed in gowns and suits as elegant as the event itself. You moved gracefully, a familiar figure gliding through the crowd, your hand wrapped loosely around the delicate crystal glass filled with champagne.

Tonight was no different than most—a charity gala held in one of the grand halls that you frequented as often as you flew to Paris for fashion week. Your gown, a soft blush with intricate beading that glimmered under the lights, seemed to cast a spell on those around you, but you barely even noticed. Your mind drifted as you nodded politely at the familiar faces, murmuring polite greetings. Even here, surrounded by prestige and opulence, your thoughts inevitably lingered somewhere else, somewhere that was far away from this world.

There was a gentle tug on the fabric of your dress, and you looked down to see Jullianna standing there, her eyes bright as she held a small, sleepy smile.

“Mama,” she whispered, reaching her arms up. She was the spitting image of you in those early years, with her curious eyes and calm demeanor that could enchant anyone.

“Are you tired, my love?” You knelt down, gently pulling her into your arms, and brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

She nodded, her small hands curling into the fabric at your shoulder. “Can we go home soon?”

“Just a little longer, darling.” You whispered, smiling as you kissed the top of her head as you stood, now hold her close.

You felt a wave of guilt at keeping her here so late, but knowing these kinds of events, it is a part of your life, it is a life you led—a life you had built carefully, elegantly, for her.

The evening passed in a blur, and as you settled into the back of the car with Jullianna asleep in your arms, your mind wandered, as if often did, to Fernando. Your divorce had been for the best, you had convinced yourself of that a long time ago. His world had always been one of constant movement—racing, travel, and late nights. For you, a life of slower elegance, deeply rooted in tradition and legacy, had never meshed well with the constant, fast-paced nature of his life. It had always been difficult to explain to friends or even to yourself in those early years, but you knew it was true, that there were some things that are simply not meant to be.

Twelve years had passed since the day you made the decision, standing in that quiet empty house, feeling like half of you had walked out the door with him and Sofia. You had returned to France almost immediately, not even wanting to stay in the place you once called home with him, and eventually, your heart led you further east—to Singapore, where you thought the new environment might help you leave behind the memories that clung to you like shadows.

That night, as you tucked Jullianna into bed, you sat by her side, brushing a gentle hand through her hair, and whispering the same words you did every night in her sleep, her lips curved into a faint smile, and left you feeling a bittersweet pang.

“Je t’aime, ma belle.” You kissed her forehead softly.

As you left her room, the silence of the night settled around you. Sitting alone in your home office, your gaze fell on a photograph tucked into the corner of your shelf—a rare family picture that was taken on the twins’ first birthday. Fernando was holding Jullianna, while you held Sofia. It was before the late-night arguments that began over small things and grew louder, sharper, until one day they no longer seemed fixable.

A knock on your door had pulled you from your thoughts. It was your housekeeper, Madeline, carrying your tea in your hand.

“Madame, here’s the nightly tea that you had requested earlier.” She said, her voice soft as she set the tea down.

“Thank you so much, Madeline.” You replied and smiled warmly at her.

The moment Madeline had left your office, closing your door softly, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes. A thousand unsaid words had echoed in your head and missed memories washed over you like a tidal wave. Despite everything, there was still that part of you that would always wonder about the family you had left behind, that would forever miss the sound of Fernando’s laugh, how Sofia had wrapped her little arms around your neck as a baby, and the way you once felt—whole.

“Oh, Fernando…if only things had been different.” A single tear streaming down your face as you whispered into the night, as if speaking to the wind itself.

The words hung in the air, unanswered, as the ache in your heart settled back like a familiar companion, and as the city lights glimmered through your window, you realized that maybe, sometimes memories were meant to be kept as they were—frozen in time, a bittersweet reminder of a love that once was.

It was a warm summer afternoon, the sun streamed gently through the windows of your home office, casting a soft, golden glow over the polished mahogany furniture. Outside, the manicured gardens were in full bloom, but your focus was entirely on Jullianna, who was seated on the white velvet couch, her face alight with excitement. She had been pleading her case for the better part of an hour, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling.

“Please, Mama,” she said, voice laced with hope as she clasped her hands. “It’s just for the summer! Camp Walden is supposed to be amazing! They have horseback riding, fencing, tennis, archery, and all kinds of activities.”

You tilted your head, smiling slightly as you watched her. Jullianna’s enthusiasm was really contagious, yet the thought of sending her somewhere far away, even for just a few weeks, filled you with a strange kind of emptiness. Jullianna was your heart, your world, the one who grounded you in all these years since the divorce. Letting her go, even briefly, felt like tearing away a part of yourself.

“I don’t know, darling,” you murmured, brushing a hand over the silk of your blouse as you gathered your thoughts. “You’ve never been away from home before, and this camp is so far away. What if you need something? What if…” your voice trailed off, concern evident in every word.

“Mama, I’ll be fine, I swear!” Jullianna leaned forward, her small hands resting gently on yours as she assured you, voice steady and wise beyond her years. “You’ve always said that being independent is important, and I think I’m ready. Besides, it’ll also be a great opportunity for me to learn new things and make new friends. I promise I’ll write to you everyday!”

“You know, my love,” you said softly, “it’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just that it is hard for me to imagine you being so far away, without me there to make sure you’re safe.”

“That’s why Tante said she’d check in on me. She lives so close—just an hour away! She said she’d visit every week to make sure I’m doing okay.” She said as she squeezed your hands.

That part did soothe you, if only a little. Your sister, always the adventurous one, had been quick to support the idea, insisting that it would be good for Jullianna to experience a little bit of independence. But still, the decision weighed heavily. You had spent every moment of Jullianna’s life by her side, and you had always been protective, especially after all the things that had happened with Fernando. The mere thought of her being away from you, even in a structured, prestigious environment, felt like an unfamiliar stretch.

“Alright. Just promise me one thing, Jullianna,” you finally said, soothing her hair back from her face as you looked at her with tender seriousness. “Promise me that if anything feels wrong or if you ever feel scared, you’ll tell someone right away. You’ll let Tante know, or write to me, and we’ll bring you back home.”

“I promised, Mama. I’ll tell you everything, and I’ll call Tante if I need anything.” A small smile spread across her face, and then she added softly, “thank you for letting me go.”

“Always remember, my darling,” you said, leaning down to kiss her forehead, “that there is no place I wouldn’t go to bring you back if you needed me.”

You sighed, and you pulled her for an embrace. The weight of your decision finally settling over you. As you pulled back, her eyes glistened with a mixture of excitement and understanding.

“I know, Mama. I’ll miss you so much, too.” She smiled.

You began gathering the essentials for her time at Camp Walden, and there were moments you found yourself staring at her empty bed or the corner where her favorite books were stacked, a sense of bittersweet filling up your heart. The house already felt quieter, emptier in a way you had not expected, and she hadn’t even left yet. But, you knew that letting her go, allowing her to experience this bit of independence, was necessary, even if it made your heart ache.

A few weeks later, the day arrived. You watched as the car pulled up in front of the sprawling, tree-lined grounds of Camp Walden. Other girls were already waving and chattering with excitement, and you felt a pang of wistfulness as you saw them heading off to the cabins. You stood with Jullianna, adjusting her hat, dusting off an imaginary dirt on her clothes, and brushing stray hair from her face.

“Be good, be safe, and remember everything we talked about.” You said, voice a little unsteady.

Jullianna wrapped her arms around you, her embrace warm and firm. “I’ll see you soon, Mama. Thank you for letting me come.”

You nodded, holding her tightly for a moment before letting her go. As she joined the other campers, you stayed rooted to the spot, watching her until she disappeared into the crowd. There was a strange sense of emptiness as you climbed back into the car, already missing the sound of her laughter beside you.

For now, you leaned back and sighed as you closed your eyes. The image of Jullianna’s smiling face etched into your heart, as the car began its journey back to the airport where your private jet was waiting for you to fly you back to Singapore.

It all started with a tennis match on a warm afternoon, the kind of day where the sun blazed high and relentless, and the sounds of campers filled the air around the sprawling grounds. Jullianna had signed up for the camp’s tennis tournament on a whim, hoping to try her hand at something new and shake off the lingering homesickness that came in waves when she least expected it. Her new found friends had cheered Jullianna on as she walked onto the court, her ponytail swinging and her competitive spirit freshly ignited.

Across the net, Sofia stood waiting, expression cool and confident. She had her own group of friends watching from the sidelines, whispering excitedly and glancing between the two girls with eager anticipation. From the moment the match began, it was clear as daylight that it wasn’t going to be an ordinary game. Every swing, rally, sharp glance, and return was met with a fierce determination, each of them fighting to outdo the other, and neither of them are willing to back down.

The twins’ heated match had caught other campers' attention from their respective activities and gathered around the court, sensing the tension in the air, and whispering amongst themselves. It wasn’t everyday that they witnessed a match this heated, not even during the annual camp tournaments.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Sofia taunted as she shot Jullianna a glance from across the net, smirking. It was enough of a challenge to spark something in Jullianna.

Jullianna’s eyes narrowed, gripping her tennis racket tighter as she retorted. “Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

She fired a powerful serve that sent the ball rocketing across the net, forcing Sofia to scramble. But Sofia, with her practiced ease, returned it with just as much force, refusing to let Jullianna gain the upper hand.

The game went on like this, each point hard-fought and full of grit, until finally, with a final stroke, Sofia won the match. She tossed her racket aside, beaming at her friends, who cheered wildly from the sidelines. Meanwhile, Jullianna, panting and flushed with exertion, felt the bitter sting of defeat, and glared at Sofia, unable to believe that she had lost, but her pride would not let her stay silent.

“You got lucky.” Jullianna muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Oh please!” Sofia said smoothly, her tone dripping with sarcasm as her smirk widened. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself.”

Before Jullianna could fire back, her stance ready to pounce on Sofia if needed just to wipe off that annoying smirk of her, Stella, the camp assistant, with wide eyes and a gentle disposition, stepped forward, looking flustered. Stella glanced back and forth between the two girls, a confused expression evident on her face.

“Uh…Jullianna…Sofia…” she stammered, clearly unnerved by how alike they looked. “Girls, let’s calm down. It was just a match, let’s shake hands and put this friendly rivalry to rest, okay?”

Neither Jullianna nor Sofia seemed to hear Stella. Each of them was far too wrapped up in her annoyance and indignation, unwilling to back down. It was really uncanny—looking at a pair of mirrors that refused to acknowledge their reflection. But when Stella opened her mouth again to address it, both girls had already disappeared, leaving the camp assistant standing alone, bewildered.

What followed over the next few days was nothing short of a civil war. Each girl, armed with a fierce competitive spirit, began to pull pranks on each other, each more elaborate than the last, and Sofia, being a seasoned camper, had the advantage of knowing the camp’s hidden corners and tricks, but Jullianna proved to be a quick learner, catching up faster than anyone had anticipated.

One morning, Jullianna woke to find her cabin floor littered with marble and lego pieces, strategically placed so she’d slip the moment her feet touched the ground. She had managed to avoid the worst of it, but not without a near-fall that sent her stumbling and feet aching over the lego pieces. When she arrived at breakfast, she spotted Sofia across the mess hall, smirking and laughing with her friends, Jullianna narrowed her eyes, a silent vow forming in her head.

Oh it’s on, Sofia Alonso.

The next day, it was Jullianna’s turn to get back at Sofia. She placed a bucket of water, that was mixed with two big boxes of sugar that she and her friends were able to snatch from the camp’s kitchen, balanced precariously on the ledge. As soon as Sofia opened her cabin door and stepped through, it tipped, dousing her from head to toe, smelling and sticky because of the sugar that was mixed with the water. The sound of Jullianna and her friends’ laughter echoed from somewhere nearby, and she greeted her teeth.

The pranks continued to escalate further—each one more creative and outrageous than the last. Sofia had retaliated by sneaking a couple of live frogs into Jullianna’s cabin, knowing how she hated frogs to the core, and hiding them in her bed just before lights out. The next morning, Jullianna’s scream echoed across the campgrounds, sending other campers into fits of laughter.

This caused the other campers to watch the spectacle unfold, some even placing bets on who would win their latest round of pranks. It became the talk of the camp, and soon, even the counselors started to take notice of it, their amusement gradually giving way to concern.

However, the tipping point came on a humid afternoon when Sofia’s latest prank went awry. She had meticulously planned to replace Jullianna’s shampoo with a mixture of sticky maple syrup and glue, convinced it would finally give her the upper hand once again. But, in a twist of fate, the camp director herself, Marva, just happened to use Jullianna’s shower stall that day. The furious yelp that echoed through the cabin when the sticky concoction met her hair was one no one would forget anytime soon.

Marva stormed into the mess hall that evening, her hair ruined and still a very sticky mess despite doing her best effort to wash it out thoroughly, but the stickiness was making it impossible.

“Jullianna Young! Sofia Alonso!” She barked, voice cutting through the chatter of the other campers like a whip.

Jullianna and Sofia, who had been sitting at opposite ends of the hall, both stiffened, exchanging a glance across the room. They knew very well that they were in big trouble, but neither was prepared for the scolding that followed.

“I have had enough of this nonsense!” Marva snapped, glaring at them both. “You two have disrupted this camp long enough with your childish rivalry. I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, but whatever it is, it stops now.” Both girls just remained silent, each of them secretly fuming at the other.

Marva took a deep breath, clearly struggling to keep her composure. “Since neither of you seem capable of behaving properly, you’ll be spending the rest of your time here together in the isolation cabin. No pranks, no game, and no tennis matches. Just the two of you, side by side.”

A collective gasp rippled through the mess hall as the campers exchanged shocked glances. The isolation cabin was notorious—it is a small, rustic cabin far from the main grounds, used for serious disciplinary issues. Jullianna opened her mouth to plead her case, but Marva held up a hand, silencing her immediately.

“Not another word.” Marva sent Jullianna a pointed look. “Gather all of your things, both of you. You’ll be escorted there tonight.”

As the mess hall fell silent, the girls shot one last, seething glance at each other before trudging out of the mess hall, each silently blaming the other. Neither of them had any idea what awaited them in that cabin, but they were both determined to make sure the other regretted every prank, every stolen moment of peace.

The isolation cabin loomed under the silver light of the moon, its walls pressing down with a silence that seemed heavier than the woods surrounding it, and the faint smell of old pine mingling with the summer air drifted through the cracked window. Jullianna stepped inside, her gaze sweeping over the modest setup—- single room with two narrow beds on opposite walls, a small wooden table on each side, and the dim bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting faint shadows that only added to the sense of confinement. It is not really the kind of space where two strong-willed girls could coexist peacefully for the entire summer.

Sofia brushed past her with a sigh, already so over with what had happened during the day, and just ready to get some sleep. She set her bag on the bed near the door, her expression tense and unreadable.

“Guess you’re taking that side then.” Jullianna muttered, sliding her own bag onto the bed nearest the window, needing the slight reprieve the view might offer.

Sofia merely shrugged, glancing around the cabin before sinking down onto her bed. She did not respond, but the look she shot Jullianna spoke volumes, one of those silent, frustrated exchanges that siblings seem to master effortlessly.

The silence between them stretched, thick and awkward, broken only by the distant sounds of the camp settling in for the night. Jullianna retrieved her pen and paper, intending to start the letter she had been meaning to send to you. She hoped it would soothe the relentlessness that gnawed at her, the unsettling feeling that maybe, she had made a big mistake of coming to Camp Walden.

Jullianna began writing in a neat hand, taking care to choose her words carefully. She even hesitated, chewing on the pen cap as she considered what else she could say to you.

Dear Mama,

I’m doing well at camp, and I’m learning a lot. The counselors are nice, the activities are…fun. I had met a really terrible girl, and she’s very very rude, and got us into big trouble, and maybe you were right after all, maybe I shouldn’t have come to Camp Walden, maybe I’m not ready yet to be on my own…

The moment Jullianna saw what she had ended up writing, had been crossed out, and just sighed. Then, without any warning, the lights flicked off, plunging the cabin into darkness. Jullianna blinked, her eyes adjusting to the faint glow filtering through the windows, and realized that Sofia had casually flipped the switch from her side of the room, clearly telling her intent to sleep.

“Hey! What the hell?” Jullianna snapped, narrowing her eyes in the darkness. “I wasn’t finished.”

“It’s late,” Sofia replied evenly, her voice carrying a hint of smugness. “Some of us actually want to sleep, you pompous ass.”

“Well, I want to finish my letter.” Jullianna replied, ignoring the name calling that had been done by Sofia. “It’s not like I’m even bothering you.” She huffed, reaching for the switch by her bed and flicking it back on.

The light filled the room one more, and she caught a glimpse of Sofia’s exasperated expression before Sofia silently turned it off again. Jullianna gritted her teeth, annoyance already bubbling up as she stretched over to turn it back on, refusing to back down. Suddenly, the twins had fallen into a wordless rhythm—Sofia switching the light off, Jullianna switching it back on, they were going at it back and forth, in an escalating battle of wills. With each flip of the light switch, their resolve only seemed to deepen, neither of them are willing to be the one to concede. It was like the tennis match all over again.

“You know what? Fine!” Sofia muttered, letting out an exasperated sigh, and rolling her eyes as she settled back on her pillow, turning away from Jullianna. “Have your freaking light. Clearly, writing a letter is more important than getting any sleep.”

Jullianna’s jaw tightened, resisting the urge to retort. She knew that Sofia was only trying to get under her skin, but still, she could not ignore the sting of frustration. This was supposed to be her space, her chance to find some peace, and here was Sofia, already encroaching on it. After a pause, Jullianna went back to her letter, scribbling with more intensity than before, as if each stroke of the pen could somehow vent her irritation.

The camp is fine, though I do wish there were a little more…personal space, and that Sofia Alonso was the biggest and awful creature that had ever walked this planet!

She glanced pointedly at Sofia’s turned back. But as the silence settled back over them, Jullianna felt the weight of their situation press down, a heavy reminder of the consequences they now had to endure. She thought back to the pranks, tennis match, and the bubbling resentment she had not quite been able to shake. Now, all of it had come back to haunt her, and there was nothing either of them could do to change any of it. Marva’s words echoed in her mind—you’ll be spending the rest of your time here together in the isolation cabin.

Looking over at Sofia, wondering if she was feeling the same sting of regret. It was one thing to engage in their rivalry out on the campgrounds, where they had their own space, but here, the walls closed in, and the tension between them felt inescapable.

“You know, if this keeps up, they’ll end up calling our parents.” Sofia murmured, her voice laced with a hint of worry.

Jullianna paused, her pen hovering over the paper as he stomach somersaulted at the thought. The last thing she wanted was for you to receive a call from Marva, detailing how your daughter had been banished to the isolation cabin, as Marva listed the things she had done like it was war crimes. She couldn’t bear at the thought of you regretting the decision to let her come home, disappointing the only person she looked up to more than anyone else in the world. To more than anyone else in the world.

“Yeah, well,” Jullianna replied, her bravado faltering, “I don’t think either of us wants that.”

Sofia glanced over her shoulder, gaze softer, almost resigned. “So maybe we should just…stay out of each other’s way.”

Jullianna nodded in agreement, feeling a reluctant agreement settled between them, though the air was still thick with tension. They did not say another that night. She decided to write a new letter and had finished it in silence, leaving out the parts about the pranks and rivalry, keeping the tone cheerful and optimistic for your sake.

When Jullianna finally set the letter aside and turned off her bedside light, she could feel Sofia’s presence only a few feet away, a constant reminder of the thin line they both now walked. They had no choice but to endure this together, their own choice binding them to this small cabin in the middle of the woods.

As Jullianna lay awake, staring at the ceiling, Jullianna realized just how long the summer ahead truly felt.

The late afternoon sun spilled through the cabin window, casting a soft golden glow that painted the room in a warm light. Jullianna sat cross-legged on her bed, journal opened in her lap as she carefully sorted through the small collection of photos she had brought with her from home. The journal was more than just a pastime, it was her link to everything familiar, a little piece of home could flip through whenever she missed you or the world that was beyond camp.

One by one, she arranged the photos—old photos of you and her, her friends from school, and places she loved most. There was one photograph, however, that she always kept tucked at the back, out of sight but never truly out of mind. It was an old photo of her father, Fernando, one taken long before things had changed so drastically for the worst. The picture had been ripped down in the middle, jagged separating him from the rest of the family photo, leaving only his half behind.

Jullianna stared at it for a moment, her fingertips tracing the worn edges, a strange mixture of warmth and sadness filling her chest. She missed him, even if she could hardly remember him. She missed what might have been. As she was placing the photograph ik the journal, she felt a presence near her, and she glanced up to find Sofia watching her curiously. Sofia’s expression was unreadable, but her gaze was sharp, focused on the photo in Jullianna’s hand.

“What’s that?” Sofia asked, a hint of something suspicious in her voice.

“Just…” Jullianna hesitated, holding the journal protectively against her chest. “Some photos from home.” She replied, hoping that her reply would appease Sofia’s curiosity.

“Let me see.” Sofia insisted, taking a step closer.

Before Jullianna could even form a response, Sofia had already leaned over and snatched the photo from her hands, holding it up to the light. Her eyes scanned the picture, and Jullianna could see the flicker of confusion cross her face, followed by something deeper—something darker.

“Why the hell do you have a picture of my father?” Sofia’s voice was low, tense, laced with a disbelief that quickly turned into anger.

Her hands clenched around the edges of the photo as if holding onto it hurt, but she could not let go. Jullianna’s mouth fell open, her mind reeling.

“Your father?” She repeated, feeling a sudden wave of confusion crash over her. “That’s my father.”

“No, this is my dad! Why the hell do you have this picture?” Her tone grew louder, angrier, each word brimming with accusation, as if Jullianna had stolen something from her. “You had no right to—”

“Sofia,” Jullianna’s voice cut through, steady yet trembling, she’s not really used to confrontations like this. “I’m telling you the truth, he’s my father too.” Her words hung heavy in the air, and she could see the rage in Sofia’s face waver, replaced by a flash of doubt.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, both twins were processing the words that had just been exchanged. Then, as if some unspoken understanding passed between them, Sofia reached into her own things, rifling through until she found what she was looking for. She pulled out a photograph of her own, one that looked hauntingly familiar. It was an image of you, torn the same way in the middle, only this time, the tear separated you from the man beside.

“This…this is my other picture.” She whispered as she held up the photo, hand shaking and voice barely above breath.

Jullianna took in the image, her heart pounding as she realized what it meant. The jagged tear in each of their photos matched perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle meant to be joined. The world seemed to tilt around her, air getting heavy with the enormity of the truth sinking in.

All those years, all the questions she had never had any answers to—they were standing right in front of her, and her mirror image was the one holding them.

“You’re…” Jullianna’s voice broke, her throat tight as the words struggled to find their way out. “We’re…twins.”

Sofia’s face was a mixture of shock and disbelief. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but no words came. They both stood there, frozen, each searching for the other’s face for answers, for some kind of proof that this was not just a strange dream.

Jullianna sank down on the edge of her bed, staring at the two photographs, Fernando in one, and you in the other, torn apart but now brought together by the both of them. The silence between the twins was thick, heavy with the weight of everything they had missed, everything they hadn’t known until now.

“I don’t understand,” Sofia finally said, voice softer, almost vulnerable. “Why didn’t they tell us anything? Why were we…separated?”

“I don’t know. I never even knew you existed, it was just always me and Mama…” she trailed off, voice trembling, the realization settling painfully in her heart.

Sofia sat down across from her, a flicker of hurt crossing her face. “For me, it’s always been just me and Papa. I thought that was it.”

Both fell silent again, each lost in their own thoughts, the reality of their shared past unraveling slowly before them. Jullianna could see the same ache reflected in Sofia’s eyes, a sense of loss neither of them had expected to find. They had grown up worlds apart, yet they had been carrying the same missing piece all along, unaware that it belonged to each other.

Sofia reached out hesitantly, her hand hovering over the two torn photos, as if by placing them together, she could somehow bridge the gap between their two lives.

“Maybe,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion, “maybe it’s not too late for us, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” she said softly, voice steady and certain. “Maybe it isn’t.”

Later that evening, when the cabin was already dark and quiet, with only the sounds of occasional rustle of leaves outside and soft breaths of the twins can be heard as they lay in their separate beds, each lost in their own thoughts. Jullianna had just started drifting off to sleep when she heard a small whisper.

Hey, psst!” Sofia called, her voice low, but insistent.

Jullianna rolled over, groaning softly. “What do you want, Sofia? I’m trying to sleep.”

“I have an idea, a very brilliant one.” She leaned up on her elbow, a spark of excitement lighting up her face, even in the dim light.

She opened one eye, squinting at her sister. “Can this please wait until the morning? When I’m fully rested and can absorb information properly?”

“No! Come on, it’ll just take a second.” Sofia pleaded.

“Fine!” Jullianna finally gave in. “If this brilliant idea of yours is anything like your last brilliant idea that landed us in this cabin, consider me not interested.” She added, voice laced with a hint of sarcasm.

“Damn, now we know which twin has a stick up in their ass all the time.” Sofia snickered.

Jullianna gasped, looking really appalled. “I do not have a stick up in my ass, thank you very much!”

“Whatever,” Sofia rolled her eyes, “but come on! I swear this one’s different. Just hear me out.”

Jullianna sighed, sitting up as well, rubbing her eyes and reluctantly giving her attention to her sister. “Alright, I’m listening. What’s this brilliant idea of yours?”

Sofia leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “We should switch places.”

“Switch places?” Jullianna blinked, staring at her sister like she had suddenly grown two heads. “You mean you want me to go live with Papa, and you’ll go live with Mama?”

She nodded eagerly, her eyes gleaming with excitement at the idea. “Exactly! Think about it, Jullianna! I’ve been dying to meet her my whole life, and don’t you want to know what it’s like to live with Papa? Even just for a little while?”

“Are you insane in the head?” Jullianna looked at Sofia as if she were out of her mind. “How on earth would we pull something off like that? The second I step off the plane, Mama will know I’m not me. We may look alike, but there are a thousand little things she’d notice right away.”

But Sofia was not ready to give up that easily. She shifted closer, her face determined. “Not if I practice. I can learn your habits, your mannerisms, everything. I’ve watched you all summer, and I already know how you talk and walk. I can definitely pull this off, I know I can.”

“And what about me?” Jullianna let out a huff of disbelief, crossing her arms over her chest. “How am I supposed to fool Papa? What if he asks me about something I don’t know or realizes I’m not you?”

Sofia’s face softened, and for a moment, she looked almost vulnerable. “Well, I don’t think he would. He’s always away and busy. He wouldn’t even notice.”

“You really think you can fool Mama? You think you know her that well?” Jullianna’s expression shifted, a hint of curiosity into her voice.

“I know her well enough to know that she loves you so much. I’ve heard stories from Papa about how she’s so elegant, so graceful, and I’ve imagined what it would be like to meet her a million times.” Sofia said earnestly. “I promise I’ll do everything I can to make it work.”

Jullianna felt a pang in her chest at the thought of Sofia’s longing, the years they had missed out on with each other, and with their parents. She tried to shake off the bittersweet feeling, but it lingered, tugging at her heart.

“Sofia…” she started, her voice soft. “This is really crazy, and dangerous. A little bit ridiculous as well if I'm being honest.”

Sofia gave her a small, hopeful smile. “So, you up for it?”

Jullianna bit her lip, torn between Sofia’s skepticism and the growing sense of curiosity. She had always wondered about Fernando, about what kind of person he was, what it would be like to spend time with their father—and as much as she hated to admit it, there was a part of her that wanted to see it for herself.

Finally, she let out a sigh, throwing her hands up in resignation. “Fine. Fine, I’ll do it. But if this all backfires, I’m fully blaming you.”

Sofia’s face lit up, and without any warning, she launched herself across the small space, wrapping her arms around Jullianna in a tight hug.

“Thank you, thank you!” She squealed. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Jullianna, unaccustomed to the sudden skinship, hugged her back, though she couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she whispered, “you better not mess this up.”

“Oh, don’t worry your pompous ass about it.” Sofia pulled back, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Will you stop calling me that?” Jullianna glared at her.

“Naur.” Sofia teased. “But, it was nice doing business with you, partner!”

“I should’ve drafted an agreement before I had agreed to this plan.” Jullianna murmured.

“Too late, no backsies!” Sofia stuck her tongue out at Jullianna.

She just shook her head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Let’s just hope this brilliant idea of yours doesn’t end in total disaster.”

The isolation cabin was not exactly the punishment that Marva, the camp director, had intended for it to be, at least not to the twins. Sure, they were banned from most camp activities and had been relegated to kitchen duties—a consequence they were constantly reminded of as they scrubbed pots and peeled endless potatoes, but it was during these hours of exile that they found an unexpected advantage. They basically had the entire summer to prepare for their switch, and with no one or any camp activities to interrupt, they were free to study each other’s lives without interference.

Every morning, after finishing up in the kitchen, they would take their usual spot at the “isolation cabin table,” a small stable in the farthest corner of the mess hall. The staff had set it aside specifically for them, as if to let everyone know that they were troublemakers. But to the twins, it felt like it was their own private headquarters, a place where they could whisper and plan without anyone overhearing.

One afternoon, with the other campers busy with archery and canoeing, Sofia and Julianna were seated at their table, surrounded by a scattered pile of photographs, notepaper, and a few hastily drawn diagrams.

“Alright,” Sofia said, leaning over one of the photos, her eyes focused. “This is Papa’s sister. Tía Lorena, and she’s a doctor. She really loves giving expensive gifts, so she pretty much spoils us rotten.” She pointed to a woman in the photograph, a glamorous brunette with a gorgeous smile.

Jullianna raised an eyebrow. “How expensive?”

“Well, considering she’s very successful, gifts like Chanel, Bvlgari, Dior, and YSL to name a few.” Sofia explained. “Though I’m thankful for the gifts, I'm never really the type of girl to bask myself in luxury items, though I know very well that once she meets you as Jullianna, you’ll really get along well. Since you’re so…posh.”

She looked at Sofia, sending her a playful offended look. “I’m not posh. But got it, an expensive aunt who gives posh gifts. Noted.”

They exchanged stories, going back and forth, each trying to explain the intricacies of their own families. Sofia’s face softened as she looked over at Jullianna, sensing the curiosity in her eyes every time she spoke of their father.

“Look,” Sofia said, reaching over and handing her a photo of Fernando, smiling and holding up a trophy on the podium. “This is Papa at his happiest, when he’s racing. That’s what he lives for, and I think he’d rather be on the track than anywhere else.”

Jullianna gently took the photo from Sofia, studying it closely. She noticed the proud look in Fernando’s eyes, the way he seemed to radiate energy and excitement.

“He looks…different than I expected. He looks…younger.” Jullianna said, looking at the photo with a longing smile.

“Yeah,” Sofia replied softly, her gaze turning a bit wistful. “That’s the side of him I wish you could have seen sooner. I think you’d like him very much, and he’s also very funny. Cracking a bunch of dad jokes.”

Jullianna gave her a small nod, tucking the photo away carefully in her notebook. It was her turn, and she held up a photo of you, looking radiant at a charity gala, draped in a timeless gown, surrounded by a sea of admiring eyes.

“This is Mama at one of her events. She’s, well, she’s always the center of attention, but not in a loud way. She doesn’t have to try, people just…gravitate to her.” Jullianna explained, and pulled out a photo again. It was one of your poster ads for Dior, where you had been asked to be their brand ambassador.

Sofia stared at the photo, her face filled with wonder, and whispered. “She looks like a queen.”

“She kind of is,” Jullianna replied with a laugh. “She can be strict, though. Like, if my room isn’t perfect, I always hear about it.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Papa’s the opposite. He barely notices if there’s a mess, as long as it’s not his stuff.”

“Also, before I forget,” Jullianna pulled out a photo of your sister. “This is Tante Clarisse, older sister. She’s a really cool aunt, very adventurous, and I know that when she meets you as you, you’ll get along really well.”

“Would you look at that, our parents have the exact opposite of their siblings.” Both of the twins laughed at Sofia’s remarks. “But tell me more about Mama, what is the first thing she does every morning?”

“Hmm, the first thing Mama does every morning is make tea. Always black tea, no milk, just a bit of honey. She stands by the window, looking out at the garden while she drinks it.” Jullianna smiled.

“Got it,” Sofia nodded, mentally filing each detail away. “What is she like? I mean, what’s she like when it’s just you two?”

“Well, she’s calm. Gentle, but not in a weak way. She’s strong, you’d see it in the way she handles everything, like she’s always a step ahead of everyone else.” Jullianna’s face softened, voice becoming wistful. “It’s like everything is just…right. She’s amazing, really.”

“She sounds wonderful.” Sofia murmured, almost to herself.

“But anyway, your turn!” Jullianna quickly cleared her throat, wanting to break the quiet weight between them. “What’s Papa like? I mean, really like, not just what you tell people.”

“Oh, Papa…he’s complicated.” Sofia leaned back in her chair, a smile tugging at her lips. “Always has a million things going on in his head, but he’s also weirdly sentimental. Like, he keeps these little trinkets, souvenirs from places he’s raced.”

“He doesn’t say much, but he’s always present. When he’s around, you know he’s paying attention, like you’re the only person in the world.” She added.

Jullianna tilted her head, trying to picture the man she had only known in glimpses, piecing together this new layer of Sofia was giving her. You never really liked to talk about Fernando, and Jullianna just gave up on asking you about him, the picture was already enough for her to know that she has a father.

“That sounds…really nice.” She said softly, almost as if she were testing the words.

Sofia grinned, a little twinkle of pride in her eyes. “Yeah, he’s…he’s special. But don’t tell him I said that, or he’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

The two of them shared a quiet laugh, finding comfort in the strange, shared bond they were piecing together over their parents.

As they continued trading details, Sofia would occasionally quiz Jullianna. “So, what does Papa do on Sunday mornings when it’s his off-season?”

“You both spend time at Abuelo and Abuela’s home, and go to his private race track for a few sessions.” Jullianna replied confidently.

“Close enough,” Sofia said, satisfied.

“Alright, your turn. What’s Mama’s favorite flower?” Jullianna asked.

Sofia paused, trying to recall the details they had gone over. “Orchids. White ones.”

Jullianna nodded, impressed. “Perfect. She always loved white orchids, didn’t she? She even has one in her home office and bedroom.”

It was strange, Jullianna thought, to feel this kind of connection to someone she had never known, to see these glimpses of her family through Sofia’s stories. She could see Sofia had felt the same, a mix of wonder and longing that neither of them could fully explain.

Sofia suddenly leaned over the table, meeting Jullianna’s eyes. “You know, if this works, if we really pull this off, we’re going to know more about each other’s families than they know about us.”

“Good. That means we’re doing it right.” Jullianna smiled, her eyes glinting with the spark of shared adventure.

During a late evening, as the moon illuminated inside of the isolation cabin’s window, Sofia glanced over at Jullianna with a look of steely determination.

“You know, if we’re going to pull this off, we have to go all in.” She said, her gaze flickering to Jullianna’s long, wavy hair.

“No way! You want me to cut it?” Jullianna reached up, fingers grazing her dark, carefully maintained locks. “I don’t think I can do that. Mama…she loves my hair.”

“I get it, but my hair’s short,” Sofia sighed, her face softening for a moment. “And you can’t exactly show up with long hair when it’s supposed to be, well, me. You’re the one who said she’s notice things, right? The tiniest details?”

Sofia pointed to her own short-cropped style, which was edgy and practical, shaped by years of living with Fernando’s ‘come as you are’ approach. Jullianna bit her lip, staring at herself in the mirror—it was true, you would instantly pick up on something as obvious as a haircut. But the thought of losing her hair, her one piece of comfort in an otherwise chaotic world, made her heart twist.

Sofia saw the hesitation softened her voice, trying to convince her. “Look, I know it’s hard. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was necessary. Besides, hair grows back, just think of it as…as a part of the adventure.”

“Easy for you to say! You’re used to it.” Jullianna sighed, crossing her arms defensively.

“True. But that’s why I’m asking. If we’re really going to do this, it has to be perfect. Foolproof.” She paused, then added, “and…you’re going to have to get your ears pierced too.”

Jullianna’s head snapped up, her eyes wide with shock. “Wait, what?! Pierced ears?! No. Absolutely not! There is a reason why I never had my ears pierced, despite how Mama told me that I should.”

“Well, Papa definitely won’t let me go back without my ear pierced.” Sofia chuckled, shaking her head. “If you show up with unpierced ears, he’ll notice immediately that it is not his daughter.”

Jullianna groaned, staring back at the mirror. It was more than a little daunting, the idea of changing herself so much for a plan that she was not even sure would work. She had always hated needles so much, that is why despite how much you convince her to have her ears pierced so that she can no longer use magnetic earrings, a simple no would always be her answer. Until you had just stopped convincing him.

But as she glanced over at Sofia, who wore an expression of quiet, almost desperate determination, something softened within her. They were already at 85% of their plan, it’s too late to back out now. This was not just an adventure for Sofia, it was her once in a lifetime chance to meet you—the mother she had never really known.

“Fine, okay.” Jullianna finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s do it.”

Sofia’s face lit up with relief and excitement. She jumped up, giving Jullianna an impulsive hug. “Thank you! This is going to be amazing, I promise!”

Jullianna couldn’t help but smile. The feeling of Sofia’s arms around her, the warmth of this new sisterly bond, somehow made the whole ordeal seem worth it. Worth conquering over her fear of needles.

A few hours later, Julluanna sat stiffly on a wooden chair, with Sofia standing beside her with a pair of scissors that he had managed to borrow from the camp’s art shed. Jullianna closed her eyes, as strands of her long hair tumbled down on the cabin floor.

As the pile of hair grew, Jullianna tried to focus on the bigger picture, on why she was doing this. She kept imagining your reaction when you see her, or rather, when you see Sofia, standing in her place, with every detail exactly right. She imagined what it would be like to stand in her father’s world, if only for a little while.

“Alright,” she said, after what felt like an eternity, Sofia finally stepped back, setting the scissors aside. “Look!”

Jullianna opened her eyes slowly, gazing at her reflection in the cabin mirror. With the shorter, choppy hairstyle, she barely recognized herself, and standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Sofia, she saw it—the uncanny, almost eerie resemblance between them.

“We look…we look so much alike, oh my god.” Jullianna murmured, reaching up to touch her newly short hair.

Sofia grinned, a look of triumph spreading across her face. “Told you, we could pull this off.”

“Alright, you win. I’m all in.” Jullianna couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head.

“Now, for the earrings,” Sofia said, holding up the studs with a small, apologetic smile. “You’re doing great, I promise. This is the last and final step.”

Jullianna clenched her jaw but nodded. “Just make it quick, okay?”

Sofia gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, then carefully pierced her ears with a sharp needle, one at a time. It was quick, a short sting, that felt like a bite of an ant, and then it was over. Jullianna touches her new earrings, feeling their cool surface against her skin.

“There. Now we’re ready!” Sofia grinned, stepping back and looking over.

They both stood together in front of the mirror, side by side, transformed into mirror images of each other, the plan they had once imagined as impossible now felt inevitable.

It was already the last day of camp. The final morning was thick with an anxious energy, as if the summer had conspired with the twins’ hearts to make this moment feel both thrilling and terrifying. They had come a long way from that heated tennis match, and now, every glance, every movement was carefully practiced to be someone else. It was very strange and surreal, to think that they were about to walk into the lives they had only ever imagined, guided only by each other’s stories, photos, and memories.

Sofia glanced at the small suitcase she had packed with Jullianna’s things. Her fingers trembled slightly as she zipped it up, feeling the weight of what they were about to do settle heavily in her stomach. She had dreamt about meeting you so many times, but now that the moment was within reach, the reality was daunting. She was about to step into a world so different from her own. What if I slipped up? What if you noticed right away?

“Hey, you’re going to do great. Just remember what we practiced. You’ve got this.” Jullianna said softly, offering a reassuring smile.

Sofia looked at her, a flicker of doubt in her eyes. “What if she realized it’s not you the second I walk through the door? You told me that she notices everything.”

“You’ll be okay,” Jullianna replied, trying to project confidence. “And if anything feels off, just call me, okay? I’ll be there. It’s just a summer, long enough to get some answers, but not so long that anyone gets hurt.”

At that moment, Stella’s voice called out through the megaphone, her tone brisk, business-like. “Jullianna Young! Your car’s here, we’re ready when you are!”

“That’s you!” Jullianna said as they shared a quick, almost panicked look. Her voice became urgent as she pressed her passport and plane ticket into Sofia’s hands, along with her small backpack. “Here. You’re going to need these. Remember, look through all the photos in my journal, it’s where I keep everything, all my photos of who’s who, little habits, and notes. It should be able to help you.”

Sofia nodded as she took a deep breath. “Don’t forget to find out why they split up. I don’t remember much, but I think…I think it’s important.”

“I’ll do my best.” Jullianna’s expression softened. “And Sofia, make sure you keep up with my French homework, alright? Mama won’t let you hear the end of it if you slip, and give her a big hug for me.” She forced a small laugh, trying to mask her own nerves.

“Ms. Young! The car is waiting, come on.” Stella’s voice interrupted again, a touch more insistent this time.”

“Good luck, Jullianna,” she whispered as she hugged Jullianna tightly, one last time. “Thank you for giving me this chance. Please hug Papa for me, as well.”

“Good luck to you too,” Jullianna hugged her back with the same intensity, feeling a surge of emotions she hadn’t expected. “And I will. Remember, it’s just summer. But make the most of it, okay?”

Sofia nodded, blinking back the sudden sting of tears, and with one last look at Jullianna, she walked towards the car and went inside. Jullianna stood there, left with a mixture of excitement, fear, and a strange sense of loss as the car drove away.

Jullianna was about to meet her father in a couple of hours, for the first time as herself but not quite herself, to step into a world she knew through faded photos and stories whispered late at night.

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cheriladycl01 · 2 months ago

Text

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:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

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tpwk-formula1 · 3 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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giuseppe-yuki · 3 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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gguk-n · 3 months ago

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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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embrosegraves · 10 months ago

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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 · 5 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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nandosbunni · 5 days 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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yourusername no❤️

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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

username always love a non-aston fernando update

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 is it just me or anyone else find it off that he's older than her???

username she's in her late 20s, grow up

username dude it's weird, he's so much older than her

username why are y'all acting like she's in college or smth??? she's literally an adult

username i'm actually obsessed with their hug in the last pic

username who wouldn't be?

fernandoalo_official

Liked by oscarpiastri, aussiegrit, carmenmmundt and others

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

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yourusername 💋💌❤️

fernandoalo_official liked this comment

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" ???

username omg wait...

username DOES THIS MEAN THEY'VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR LONGER

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

username you're so right like?? how long have they been together actually😭

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

username the way they're already my favorite f1 couple

Liked by danielricciardo, yukitsunoda0511, alex_albon and others

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😭

username admin for sure made this post just to get in on the hype

username obsessed with rebecca's paddock fits

username the fernandoyn ship has sailed. i repeat, THE FERNANDOYN SHIP HAS SAILED

yourusername

Liked by fernandoalo_official, astonmartinf1, maxverstappen1 and others

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 ❤️

yourusername liked this comment

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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requiemforthepoets · 1 month ago

Text

this time, i’ll love you much better

SERIES MASTERLIST

PAIRINGS: fernando alonso x ex-wife!reader

SUMMARY: 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.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect 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: divorce, single dad!nando (for the meantime), twin switching, foul language, typographical errors, no use of y/n, getting back together, named side characters & twin daughters, ear piercing, hair cutting, and over the top pranks

AUTHOR’S NOTE: hi hello! first and foremost, this series was inspired by ‘the parent trap’ (1998) i had already written this series previously, but i decided to rewrite it and expound the fic a bit more bc in my first work, it has been rushed and really wonky, grammars are all cringey and choppy. so, to all that had read the first version of this series, i hope you’ll enjoy this newer version. the taglist for this series is open, just comment or message me directly. enjoy!

𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆, 𝒊’𝒍𝒍 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓

𖤓 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ☽

i. one - camp walden

ii. two - singapore

iii. three - spain

(parts will be added more later.)

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trashytracktales · 22 days 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 🤍🎀

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

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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tpwk-formula1 · 3 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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cheriladycl01 · 7 months ago

Note

Could you do fic for Fernando Alonso with wife reader?(no age gap). He saw that someone was flirting with her and she was oblivious to it. Then, he swoops in to ‘save’ her from a bad flirt when in reality they were just jealous. He also feels insecure about his age and to make him feel better, she reveals that she had a surprise for him. You decide what it was. Just something fluff and romantic. Tag me later!! Thanks :)))

You make me feel so …. I don’t know the word in English! -McLaren Fernando Alonso x ObliviousWife! Reader

Plot: Marrying Fernando Alonso was the best decision you ever made, you loved how manly and protective he was with you. However, recently he’s been getting jealous of the other men of the grid and how they treat you.

Fernando Alonso had been your husband for many years. You were sort of childhood sweethearts who married young on a whim and stuck together through it all.

You were able to travel the world with the person, later to be people you loved most. However recently you had a glow about it, maybe it was the fact that you were 1 month pregnant not to the knowledge of Fernando and not yet showing but just had that dewy, glowing skin that made you look radiant.

Everyone in the paddock took notice of this change, not that they couldn’t appreciate your attractiveness before, but now it just made them swoon anytime you breezed into the garage in one of your pretty sun dresses.

Today was no different, it was a beautiful sunny day in Mexico, and you were handing out water and fruit for the mechanics and engineers hard at work on your husbands car. You knew them all by name, you made sure you did, so greeting them was never an issue.

However, nobody told you of the rookie employee that had joined them for Mexico in McLaren garage. You immediately started to introduce yourself to the man, talking to him about what he was doing to the car and asking when he had joined them.

Unknown to you, the mechanic was smitten with you and everything you were telling him about your life. He was listening to every word you were telling him, and that was the effect you had on a lot of people.

“So are you, I dunno coming to the team dinner tonight?” He asks scratching the back of his neck and your about to answer with an animated yes until you feel a hand snake round your waist and pull you closer to them.

You look up and see your husband making you smile and pull him into a gentle kiss.

“Mmm my wife will be attending the dinner” Fernando says, you can’t tell but it’s said with a grit in his teeth and a sharp foxy look in his eyes that tells him to back off.

Fernando was used to you getting male attention, but lately it was constant and you didn’t even know it was happening, you were just so oblivious and he hated that you didn’t realise all these people were flirting with you.

And that mechanic wasn’t even the last of it.

Maybe it was something in the Mexican air, but even Fernando couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you over the weekend, especially after your run in with Lewis, and your old friend Jenson.

When Lewis come up to you, you had a big grin on your face.

“Hey darling. How are you?” He asked kissing either side of your cheeks looking over you with those eyes that would draw any woman in, but you. You had no idea those flirty eyes were intended that way. You just saw the kind chocolate brown and assumed the sparkle and glint in there was happiness to see you.

“I’m really good Lew! Just getting to that point of the day where I’m so exhausted, not all of us are young athletes that look 10 year more youthful than they are” you joked to him making him laugh.

“Mmm you definitely don’t struggle in that department” he says looking over you and you beam at him.

“It’s just so warm, do you recon you can help me take my jacket off? I’m not sure where Fernando is, and the buttons always get caught in my hair” you ask, looking round quickly to see if you can in fact bother your husband with the minor inconvenience at hand.

“Of course, turn around for me” he instructs before pulling your hair back and carefully peeling the tight jacket from your body, now showing off the full look of the sundress you were wearing and how it clung to your most valuable assets in the best ways.

“New dress” Lewis asks observing it making you nod.

“Mmmm, I love getting to wear these kinds of dresses in this heat, they make me feel very pretty” you smile as you shove your hands into the pockets of your dress that when you first got it you couldn’t stop telling Fernando about them, before doing a little spin for Lewis, showing of the small slit in the dress.

Fernando came over the minute he saw the look on Lewis face, who was holding your jacket as he spoke to you.

“Lewis” Fernando faked a smile at the fellow driver, once again wrapping his arms around you so you were in front of him with a tight grip and nowhere to go.

“Hello Fernando” Lewis smiles coyly with a slight smirk. The two make idle conversation before Fernandos dragging you away trying to lightly ask you to stay out in the garage and don’t stray away.

But once he was in the car, you found yourself needing the toilet (Curse the start of your baby sitting on your bladder) and another drink due to the high temperatures Mexico was experiencing that day.

There you found Jenson who was just finishing up with an interview before his eyes landed on you.

“Well if it isn’t Y/N Alonso, looking as beautiful as ever” he grins and you pull him into a hug.

You’d known Jenson for pretty much your whole life being childhood friends from Primary school in the UK. You met Fernando when you went to university in Spain, you always joked that you would have still met someone even if it was later in life because Jenson would have likely introduced you.

So when Fernando saw you and him jokingly messing around with one another his face was like thunder.

Jenson could immediately tell and said a quick goodbye to you not wanting to be at the brunt of the Spaniards anger.

“Fernando baby, what’s the matter?” You ask, coming close to him and trying to thread your fingers through his but he shoves your hand away lightly.

“When will you see it?” He demands and you cock your head to the side, not understanding what he meant, making him groan at how cute you looked.

“See what mi amor?” You ask, using Spanish to see if he’d be calmer.

“You don’t see all these BOYS flirting with you and trying to win you over and you don’t see how it affects me and upsets me! And you make me so mad when you entertain it’s and and I don’t know the world in English because I don’t even think there is a word to describe it!” He exclaims all at once making you step back.

He was really really hurt by all this… and you hadn’t been able to see it.

“Have you ever thought that I don’t notice it because I only have eyes for you?” You ask softly, taking his hand happy and satisfied he lets you this time.

“I know I know, I just think… all of these men coming up to you … they are younger than us and it just makes me think they could give you more than I can” he sighs and looks at you with those little puppy dog eyes.

“Don’t you dare say that!” You exclaim almost offended. He had in fact brought your age into it aswell!

“How dare you say that they could give me more than you can, when you damn well know you’ve given me everything!” You say raising your voice.

“Fernando, I love you, and only you! How can you not see that!” You ask.

“I do see it, I just someone feel insecure and I worry that we are too late to experience certain things and its all my fault coz I put it off because of my career!” He explains and your head cocks to the side once again, wondering what he feels like he’s too late to experience.

“What, what do you think we’ve left too late?” You question.

“Kids, travelling the world without my career being there … I dunno I just had a different timeline for us when we first met” he sighs rubbing his temple before pulling you closer to him and resting his head in the crook of you neck as he takes in your sent.

“Baby, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. I was going to wait for after the race so we could tell your parents too but I think this will cheer you up a little … and stop you from worrying about me running over with your colleagues” you joke and he sighs with a light smile pulling back to look over you.

“What is it mi amor?” He asks looking over you. You take his hand and place it on your still pretty flat stomach.

“You can cross a kid of your timeline” you say nervously with a small gulp worried for his reaction.

“Are you being serious?” He asks with a huge grin and he feels around you more to see if there is a more obvious sign.

“Yeah, i only found out before the flight out here” you nod smiling at him and he lifts you up, being as careful as possible with you as he pulls you into a hug.

“I love you so so much! I’m sorry I get so jealous of you, but you can’t blame me when I’m married to such a beautiful woman. Thank you for everything” he smiles pulling you into a light kiss.

Fernando couldn’t be more content with his life right now.

Taglist:

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#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #fernando alonso fluff #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso fanfic #fernando alonso #fa14 fanfic #fa14 fic #fa14 imagine #fa14 x reader #fa14

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pucksandpower · 7 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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