This blog is for the romantics, the overthinkers, and anyone whoโs ever felt too much about a someone. Here youโll find wip teasers, one-shots, behind-the-scenes rambles, and long, lingering love stories full of age gaps, quiet comfort, and summer silences all based on F1 drivers. Thereโs hurt, healing, and a lot of emotion. I write mainly for Fernando Alonso, but am not closed off to other drivers. Please stay as long as youโd like
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It would be irresponsible of me to not note that while I do write of real people, I have taken their image and fictionalized it so that who they are in these stories is purely fictional. I respect all the individuals I write about and encourage others to do the same no matter how much you may like or dislike a driver.
โ๏ฝกthe drivers seat \\ fernando alonso \\ chapter forty-three๏ฝกโ
โWORD COUNT
โคท 1.9k
โ PAIRING
โคท Fernando Alonso X female!driver OC (Athena Jacobs Alvarez)
โ STORY SYNOPSIS
โคท End Of Chapter
โ MASTERLIST
โคท Asficdiary || The Driver's Seat || Fernando Alonso
โ CHAPTER SYNOPSIS
โคท Athena and Fernando take a 40-minute walk into town
โ NOTES AND RECOGNITION
โคท brother, why are all my drivers seat posts being marked as mature? wtf
The cemetery is quiet as I follow the path toward the front gates. The same breeze that had moved through the trees all morning catches the branches overhead. For the first time since arriving, I feel lighter. Not better. Just lighter. Like leaving some of the weight behind for a little while.
I round a corner between rows of graves and freeze. Athena. She's sitting cross-legged on the grass with a notebook balanced on her knee. Headphones around her neck. Pen moving. Talking, not to herself, to the grave in front of her.
My immediate instinct is to turn around. This isn't something I'm supposed to see. It's private. I take a step backwards. Then her voice reaches me.
โThe list is longer than it used to be, longer than I ever expected it to be. But they're all moving too, growing, changing, building lives that don't always have room for me.โ
The words stop me, not because I'm trying to listen, but because I wasn't expecting them. The loneliness in them catches me off guard.
I look away immediately. This isn't my conversation. โNobody stays exactly where you left them.โ I start walking again. โPeople grow, change, become something different.โ Another step.
I shouldn't be here. I know I shouldn't.But then I hear her say words that have my feet plant into the floor. โI think that's why Fernando also scares me.โ
I close my eyes briefly. Of course she'd choose that moment to say my name. For a second I consider continuing anyway. Pretending I never heard it, but curiosity gets the better of me.
Not because I think she's talking about me, because I want to know why. โNot because he's THE Fernando Alonso.โ
A silent laugh escapes me despite myself. โI got over that years ago... Mostly.โย
The word makes me smile. Then her voice softens. โIt's just...โ
I glance over before I can stop myself. She's staring down at her notebook, pen spinning between her fingers. โHe's everything I've ever wanted to be in racing, but he's also just a person.โ
The statement lands strangely, because to me it's obvious. Of course I'm just a person. I always have been. The world might have spent two decades trying to convince itself otherwise, but championships never made me anything more than that.
Still. Something about hearing her say it catches me off guard. โI've noticed things.โ My attention sharpens before I can stop it. โThe way he watches people when he thinks nobody is looking.โ
I frown.
โThe way he takes care of everyone around him without making a big deal about it.โ
That's not true, or maybe it is. I've never really thought about it. โThe way he still talks about racing like he loves it.โย
That one makes me smile, because despite everything; the politics, the travel, the exhaustion, the disappointment. I do. I always will.
โHe's tired sometimes.โ
The smile disappears. The words settle heavily in my chest. โHe's tired in a way I recognize.โ I don't move, don't breathe, don't even think for a second.
Because somehow that sentence finds every crack I've spent years pretending wasn't there. Tired.
Not old. Not slow. Not washed up. Just tired. The kind of tiredness that comes from carrying things too long. The kind that sleep never fixes. The kind I would never willingly admit to another person.
Yet somehow she'd seen it.
The realization is deeply unsettling, not because she's wrong, but because she's right. The breeze moves through the trees again. I stare down at the gravel beneath my feet, at the path leading away from her, away from a conversation that was never meant for me.
I should leave. I know I should, but then she speaks again. โMaybe that's why I keep thinking about our conversations.โ
My chest tightens unexpectedly. โThe late nights. The hotel lounge and his room that once. The moments that somehow always lasted longer than they should have.โ
I remember every single one. Every conversation that somehow became two hours. Every joke that became something deeper. Every time I walked away feeling like there was still more left unsaid.
โI don't know.โ Her voice is quieter now. โMaybe I'm overthinking it.โ I almost laugh, because from everything I've learned about Athena, overthinking is practically a hobby.
โI just know that every time I think I've figured him out, I realize there's another layer underneath.โ I look over before I can stop myself. She's smiling, it's a small, thoughtful smile. โAnd for some reason that makes me want to know more.โ
The words settle somewhere beneath my ribs. Uncomfortable. Warm. Dangerous. Because the truth is,ย I've spent the better part of a year doing the exact same thing.
Trying to figure her out.ย
Trying to understand the girl who could command a race from the cockpit one moment and look completely lost the next.The girl who carried grief like a second skin. The girl who laughed loudly enough to make everyone else join in. The girl who somehow made me feel younger and older at the same time.
I should leave. This time I actually mean it. Athena pushes herself to her feet. I take the opportunity immediately, turning away before she can spot me, before I hear anything else that isn't mine, before I learn something I have no right to know.
She's not the only one trying to solve a puzzle.
I sit down on the bench near the cemetery gates and stare out at the road. The conversation I'd overheard refuses to leave, not because she'd spoken about me, but because she'd understood me. That was somehow worse, or maybe better, I wasn't sure.
The breeze moves through the trees behind me. I think about everything she'd said. Then, inevitably, I start thinking about her.ย
Again.
When exactly did that become a habit?ย
I think about the first time we'd really talked. Not the paddock conversations, not the media obligations. The actual conversation. The one that somehow stretched late into the night until she fell asleep in my room. The one where she'd trusted me with pieces of herself she hadn't intended to share. The one where I'd walked away knowing my life would be different somehow.
I think about her laugh. The real one. The one from yesterday when she'd laughed so hard she cried over the stupid bull joke. The one that had managed to make me forget where I was for a few minutes, made me forget everything around me.ย
I think about the way she touches that locket when she's hurting. The way she changes the subject whenever conversations get too close to something painful. The way she notices everything, far more than people realize.
The way she'd somehow looked at me and seen exhaustion I spent most of my life pretending wasn't there. I think about my mother. The way she'd hugged Athena before she hugged me.
The way she'd called her โmi niรฑaโ. The way everyone in this town seemed to love her. Half of Oviedo, apparently. There was a version of Athena that existed here that I'd never met.
A version built from years of memories and roots and people who missed her. The same way there was a version of me that existed here. The difference was that she'd come back despite the pain. Despite whatever ghosts she'd left behind.
Santiago had called it a miracle. Now I thought I understood why. My eyes drift back toward the cemetery. Toward where she'd disappeared. Toward where she'd sat talking to her grandmother like she was still here.
I think about the final thing she'd said.
โEvery time I think I've figured him out, I realize there's another layer underneath.โ
A laugh escapes me, because the truth is, I'd spent the better part of a year doing exactly the same thing. And something told me it wouldnโt end any time soon.ย
The crunch of gravel pulls me from my thoughts. I look up, and Athena is walking toward me. Notebook gone, probably tucked in the bag on her shoulder.ย
Something about her looks different. Not happy, definitely not healed. Just lighter, like she'd left part of the weight she'd been carrying behind.
"There you are," she says.
"There I am."
She drops onto the bench beside me with a dramatic sigh. For a moment she just sits there. Then she tips her face toward the sun and closes her eyes. "I feel better."
The honesty catches me off guard. "I'm glad."
She nods."Gran always helps. Always has. Even when I donโt know what to say." The words are simple. Matter-of-fact, like she's discussing the weather instead of grief.
I understand exactly what she means anyway, for a few moments neither of us says anything. The silence isn't uncomfortable. Just quiet. Easy. The way silence becomes when you stop feeling obligated to fill it.
My eyes drift toward a small flowering bush growing beside the bench. Without thinking, I lean over and pull one of the tiny white flowers free. Athena immediately narrows her eyes.
"What are you doing?" She asks, lifting her eyebrow.ย
"I don't know yet."
"That is a terrible answer." She breathes a laughย
"It usually works."
She snorts, and before she can protest further, I reach over and tuck the flower carefully behind her ear.
Athena freezes, then blinks, then stares at me like I've completely lost my mind. "What was that for?"
I shrug. "You looked sad."
Her jaw drops. "Your solution was landscaping me?"
A laugh escapes me before I can stop it. "It seems to have worked."
She rolls her eyes dramatically. "You're ridiculous, Fern." Her hand lifts toward it automatically, for a second I think she's going to remove it. Instead, she leaves it there. The tiny victory makes me smile.ย
Although, beforeย I can say anything about the nickname sheโd given me, her phone rings, and she glances down. "Dad." I watch as she answers. "Hi." A pause, then another, then she groans. "Oh come on."
I grin immediately, apparently some things were universal.ย
"No, it's okay." A pause. "Yes, I understand meetings run over."
Silence. "Dad." Another pause. "I know." Another pause, a softer smile. "Love you too."
She hangs up and drops her head back against the bench. I already know.
"Santiago is going to be late?"
"Heโs going to be late." She replies and I nod wisely.
"Time has never existed for that man."
"Apparently not." She stands and stretches. "Dad's going to be another hour."
I wince. "That bad?"
"He sounded guilty."
"Ah."
Athena gestures toward the road leading into town. "Iโm going to walk, I very much do not want to be late for lunch with your momโ
"You are going to walk?" I say my jaw dropping
She gives me a look that says more than words could ever.ย "It's only forty minutes, and Iโm willing to bet you have not done any cardio this morning."
"Only 40 minutes?" I say giving her a look that says sheโs crazy.ย
"You're showing your age, Alonso." She teases
"I'm not old." I try and she rolls her eyes.ย
"You made a noise when you sat down, didnโt you?" She asks and I twist my face into being offended.ย
"That was the bench."
She laughs and shakes her head as she starts walking backwards toward the gate. I stand,"Well."
She raises an eyebrow. "Well?"
"I'd love to join you." For a moment she looks surprised, then something softer settles across her face. A genuine smile, the kind that reaches her eyes.
"I suppose I can allow that."
I laugh. "How generous."
"I know, Iโm a saintโ She winks before we step out of the cemetery and start our long walk into the town.ย
โ STORY SYNOPSIS
โคท Making history in the male-dominated world of Formula One, Twenty-Four year Old junior series champion, Athena Jacobs Alverez signs a year long contract with Aston Martin Aramco Formula One Team after an impressive debut the year before. As the first woman to race for a formula one team since 1992, she needs to do everything in her power to keep her seat. But in the fast-paced world of F1, that's proven hard. Especially when her friendship with Teammate, Fernando Alonso, turns into something more.
Fernando Alonso is no stranger to younger teammates or romantic relationships, but when Athena crashes into his life, he starts questioning himself and all the rules he had once set for himself. Having always been critical of his frineds' relationships with younger women, he hates how the blonde in green has him wrapped around her finger. He wasn't superman so why was she his kryptonite?
What could possibly go wrong with a mutually beneficial agreement with someone you deny your feelings for?
i didn't expect for you to answer my question!! i kinda view you as a celebrity in my mind so sending that was lowk scary lolzz!! XD also thanks for the advice!! it was good!! as of rn i am abt 1/4 into the first chap! :D!! i would also like to dm you but i'm still a minor in middle school (14 - fernando ref???) and i don't really know if you're okay w that :(
I am beyond honored to be considered a celebrity in someone's life. Oh my gosh ๐ฅน๐ฅน I'm crying, that's so sweet!! And haha, I promise no one gotta be afraid of me. I've been there once, and I understand what comes with it!!
I'm glad to hear you've gotten started and can't wait to hear all about it!!
And when I say my DMs are open, I do truely mean to everyone. Truth be told, I already have a fourteen year old fanfic writer as a friend (shout out @maxieeee331), so It's not a problem on my side.
Don't hesitate to reach out, and even then, I'm in a discord server with a bunch of people of all ages so like, don't worry. Like I said, I've been in that position, i get it!!
what's your creative process? i really want to start writing and i just loveee your fics omggg...
This is honestly such a good question!!
The easiest way to explain it is sort of an empty chair method in a way. I put the basic idea into a Google document or sometimes a text chat and sort of just spitball until I have a better understanding of the idea. A lot of times, that will include research and Pinterest, and sometimes even a specific playlist of songs.
Sometimes, I turn into a crazy person doing that. As seen for this idea, that never turned into reality (yet, probably ever) that I crashed out about on discord with @jamesiesposts + @valeelavvale . (They receive a lot of the crazy idea talks. Thank you for that, guys)
A lot of the time, it is spitballing as seen above^
Otherwise, a lot of the time, I open a doc with a vague idea, put down that idea, open pintrest, make a board, and then let the words flow. As seen in a one-shot, I started last night with hopes I'll finally finish it. This also is very Lover (Taylor Swift) coded, so I was going off daylight, afterglow, and false god as the main sort of vibes while writing. (A lot of the time, I avoid doing the "let the words flow" thing because that's how I end up with 8k word one shots)
Another idea (and I don't do this as much anymore) is voice notes. WhatsApp has a feature where you can send messages to yourself, and I used the voice note thing to basically tell myself a story and then listen to that while making notes on what I said!!
One thing I will say, though, having friends to spitball ideas at and help build is one of the absolute best things you can have. Especially if they have similar minds as you. Again, calling james and Vale here, but when im writing something queer or mlm fics, I do a lot of brainstorming with James. If I have something with a bit of an older reader or just someone more mature, I reach out to Vale.
That being said, the fact that you've reached out to me means more than words could ever say, and if you ever want help or just to spitball, my DMs are ALWAYS open. I want a community of people who love writing around me, and having you be a part of that would mean the world.
(Not to toot my own horn, but i sort of influenced james into writing fics again as well, and I am proud of him every day)
But please, please dont ever let anything stop you from writing. There is no correct way to do this. Everyone has their own process that comes from finding themselves. You never until you try!!
At the end of the day, especially in the fanfiction space, you must always remember that you do it for yourself first. Write what you want to write, write what makes you happy, write what makes you proud, and the right people will find you thereafter.
I wish you the absolute best!! And please, if you ever write or post something, TAG ME!! I would love to read it, even if you want a beta reader. Again, MY DMS ARE ALWAYS OPEN when it comes to these things. Do not hesitate to reach out!!
โ๏ฝก the drivers seat \\ fernando alonso \\ chapter forty-two๏ฝกโ
โฉ WORD COUNT โฉ
โณ 1.8K
โฉ PAIRING โฉ
โณ Fernando Alonso X female!driver OC (Athena Jacobs Alvarez)
โฉ STORY SYNOPSIS โฉ
โณ End of Chapter
โฉ MASTERLISTS โฉ
โณ Asficdiary || The Driver's Seat || Fernando Alonso
โฉ CHAPTER SYNOPSIS โฉ
โณ Athena Visits the grave of her grandmother
โฉ NOTES AND RECOGNITION โฉ
โณ I wrote this at 3am and its not proof read so enjoy this dog shit
The walk to Gran's grave is muscle memory. I don't need to think about it. My feet know exactly where to go. Past the old oak tree. Left at the angel statue. Three rows down. I find her immediately. "Hi Gran."
The words leave me with a small smile. Like she's going to answer. Like she's sitting on the grass waiting for me. I lower myself in front of the headstone and place the flowers carefully at the foot of it.
The lilies look pretty today. Kayden always did know what he was doing. I pulled my notebook from my bag and opened it across my lap. The page is blank. For now.
"I brought flowers." I draw a small daisy in the corner of the page. "Which I know is obvious because you can literally see them."
A second flower appears beside the first. Then another. "I saw Kayden. He says hello." I sketch a tiny smiley face beside the flowers. "He's getting old." The smiley face gets wrinkles. I laugh quietly to myself.
The cemetery stays silent. "Dad's finally selling the house." My pen pauses. "It only took him a decade." A small cottage appears on the page. A wonky chimney. A crooked front door. The drawing makes me smile.
"I think he's coming home for good." The thought settles strangely in my chest. Not bad. Just strange. Heโs always been the type to run instead of stay. At least he has been since momโฆ The idea of him staying still just feels foreign.
โI worry about him more than I know I need to. I know being in South Africa isnโt a viable option for him anymore, I know it isnโt for me either. But the idea of leaving our life at home, selling the kart track, doesnโt settle rightโ
I draw a tiny kart beside the house. Then another. Then a Formula One car. The proportions are terrible. I always did this. Doodle when I couldnโt explain the depth of my emotions.ย
"Fernando's here." I immediately add a tiny helmet beside the car. A stick figure, with eyes that smile through the helmet. I stare at it, then laugh.
"I understand why you loved him." I pause and look at the grave stone again. "Actually, that's a lie. Why you always loved telling me embarrassing stories about him. You and Mama Ana"
I draw a face that looks similar to him and then add sunglasses. It looks ridiculous so I chuckle and cross it out. "His mom still loves me. It seems everyone in this town still does." That earns a grin. "At least some people have good taste." I chuckle.ย
โGod you should have seen Fernandoโs face when I called his mom Mama Ana, His and dads. I wonder if itโs still appropriate, I donโt really see her enough to still use it, but habits are hard to break. Iโll have to ask her. We're going to lunch when Iโm done here.โย
Hearts and a badly sketched drawing of spaghetti joining the rest of the doodles. โI worry about what this year has in store for me. Not with the driving, Never with the driving. Thatโs the only place I know Iโll make myself proud. Itโs cocky I know, you always told me not to be cocky, but I fear itโs in my natureโ I chuckle.ย
โBut I worry about fitting in, I always have. And I know I was the only girl in F2 last year and itโs not much different in F1, but I donโt know their dynamics, I donโt know how the other drivers operate. Whoโs friends with who, and most importantly who has a connection with Daniel.โ I let my sketchbooks fall to the side as I speak, my hands instead picking at the grass.ย
The breeze moves through the trees above me, then. I sit there for a while. Talking, Drawing,ย Listening to nothing. The page slowly fills with flowers. Stars. Racecars. Little pieces of nonsense. The kind of things that happen when my hands move faster than my brain.
Then the silence settles differently. Heavier. My fingers drift to the locket around my neck. I don't open it. I didnโt need to know who was in there, all three faces would be looking right back at me anyway.ย
"Mom would be angry." The words come out quietly. My pen stops moving. I stare at the page. "She'd be worried, I think." The knot in my throat appears so suddenly it catches me off guard. "She always worried."
My eyes burn. I look down before they can. The flowers I've drawn blur slightly. I blink, hard. "Sorry." I laugh weakly. "Didn't mean to do that."
The pen touches the paper again. This time I don't draw, I write.ย
Mom would've hated how quiet the house became.ย
The sentence appears before I really think about it. I stare at it.ย
Andres would've filled the silence.
My throat tightens, and I swallow, but the page waits.
Some people leave and take entire versions of you with them.
I freeze. Reading the words back. The cemetery disappears for a second. The breeze, the birds, everything. Just me and the sentence. I don't remember deciding to write it, but there it is.
Ink on paper. Permanent. I shake my head. "That was dramatic." My voice sounds smaller than before.
I look toward the sky. "I think you'd tell me to stop overthinking." The laugh that leaves me is watery, because she would. She always told me I lived too much inside my own head.
The pen returns to the page.
Coming back here doesn't always feel like coming home anymore. I wonder if it ever did.ย
I stare at the words on the page. At the flowers and stars and racecars surrounding them. Like they're trying to hide amongst the drawings. Like they don't belong there. Maybe they don't.
I trace one of the lines with my thumb. The ink is already drying. "I miss you." The admission hurts, physically, like something pulling behind my ribs. "I miss all of you."
My voice cracks. Just once. Then the cemetery falls silent again. And for the first time since sitting down, I don't reach for another joke. I just sit there. Notebook in my lap, flowers at my feet, missing people who aren't coming back.
โI donโt know where Iโm going. I mean my career is planned. Hell, it's the only stable thing in my life.โ
I rub my face.ย
I donโt know where home is anymore.ย
โPretoria wonโt have a reason for me, New York isnโt home without Viv, Ballito is the closest, but even then, itโs gonna be hard now with my schedule and I know I wonโt see Sofia grow-up.โย
That one made me pause because it was the truth. The person who meant everything to me, was a sacrifice I had made for F1.ย
โAm I horrible for not regretting it?โ I say out loud again. โI never thought getting this far would be possible. Not for someone like me, not with my demons and who I am. Yet, here I am, and it terrifies me, because I know my skills are good enough to be here, but I donโt know if I can do it by myself.โ I admit and look at the sky.ย
I look back down at the notebook. The page is crowded now. Flowers tangled between sentences, stars squeezed into the margins, words I don't remember deciding to write.
My pen spins between my fingers. "Dad keeps saying it'll be okay." A small smile pulls at my lips. "He also said Formula One wasn't realistic, so maybe I shouldn't listen to him."
The smile lingers for a second, then fades. "It scares me." The admission comes quietly. I stare at the page, at the mess of ink and doodles, at all the pieces of myself spread across it.
"I have people, I know I do.โย
Dad.
Kayla.ย
Viv.
Sofia.
Liam.
โThe list is shorter than it used to be, longer than I ever expected it to be. But they're all moving too, growing, changing, building lives that don't always have room for me.โ My chest was tightening unexpectedly.
โI know it's normal. It's what people are supposed to do, but normal things can still hurt. Nobody stays exactly where you left them.People grow, change, become something different.โ
The words settle heavily in my chest.
โI think that's why Fernando also scares me.โ
I let out a laugh, a humourless one.
โNot because he's THE Fernando Alonso. I got over that years ago.โ I pause and shrug. โMostly.โ I chuckle again, before I bite my lip. โIt's just...โ
I stare down at the notebook, at the flowers, the racecars, the words squeezed between them. โHe's everything I've ever wanted to be in racing, but he's also just a person.โ
The admission feels strange, because that's the part nobody talks about. Not the championships, not the trophies, not the legend, but rather the man.
โI've noticed things.โ My fingers tighten around the pen.
โThe way he watches people when he thinks nobody is looking. The way he takes care of everyone around him without making a big deal about it. The way he still talks about racing like he loves it.โ
I swallow. โHe's tired sometimes.โ The sentence leaves me before I can stop it. โTired in a way I recognize.โ
The breeze shifts through the trees. I look up toward the sky. โMaybe that's why I keep thinking about our conversations.โ The late nights. The hotel lounge and his room that once. The moments that somehow always lasted longer than they should have.
โI don't know.โ I shake my head. โMaybe I'm overthinking it.โ
Gran would've told me I was. She'd probably tell me I'm overthinking all of it. A smile tugs at my lips. Which is annoying because she'd be right. I close the notebook eventually.ย
โI just know that every time I think I've figured him out, I realize there's another layer underneath.โ I glance down at the book one last time. โAnd for some reason that makes me want to know more.โ
The confession hangs in the air. Small, honest, way too dangerous for my liking.ย I exhale slowly. โAnyway.โ I push myself to my feet and brush the grass from my jeans. โI should probably go find him.โ
As if I had been in a bubble, it pops as my phone rings. My fathers name in bold letters. I pick it up as I pack away my things and turn to head back to the front of the cemetery.ย I end the call and look back at the grave, moving the flowers to lay against the grave stone again.ย
โI hope it wonโt be long till I see you again.โ I smile down. โI miss youโ my hand goes to my locket. โEverydayโย
โฉ STORY SYNOPSIS โฉ
โณ Making history in the male-dominated world of Formula One, Twenty-four year old junior series champion, Athena Jacobs Alverez signs a year long contract with Aston Martin Aramco Formula One Team after an Impressive debut the year before. As the first woman to race for a formula one team since 1992, she needs to do everything in her power to keep her seat. But in the fast paced world of F1, that's proven hard. Especially when her friendship with Teammate, Fernando Alonso, turns into something more.
Fernando Alonso is no stranger to younger teammates or romantic relationships, but when Athena Crashes into his life, he starts questioning himself and all the rules he had once set for himself. Having always been critical of his friends' relationships with younger women, he hates how the blonde in green has him wrapped around her finger. He wasn't superman so why was she his kryptonite?
What could possibly go wrong with a mutually beneficial agreement with someone you deny your feelings for? Book Three in the asficdiary Standalone Series)
โฉ Taglist โฉ
โณ @jamesiesposts || @valeelavvale || @hearteyes4logan
โ Pairing
โณ Fernando Alonso x male!ex-f1 driver!reader
โ Summary
โณ After showing up unannouced, Fernando and you "talk"
โ Word Count
โณ 1.8K
โ Authors Note:
โณ Somewhat smutty, not fully, warnings like dirty talk and dom/sub tones. I don't know how the fuck to tag shit. Also like internalized homophobia is still a topic. Part 5....probably. IDK man, I've lost all sense of smut direction.
Had you known those few years ago, when you were sharing beds and staying up all night talking that youโd end up in an apartment in Monaco, your hand around his throat as you kissed him senseless, a younger version of you wouldnโt have believed you.ย
You half expected Fernando to push you away when your hand slipped under his shirt, to pull the fabric over his head and off. Yet, when the cotton had passed both your faces heโd connected your mouths just as fiercely as he had left them.ย
His hands had found your hips pulling you close enough that you could feel the outline of him through his jeans and your sweatpants. It had caused a grunt to leave his throat that had you smirking. He had tried to turn you around then and you had stopped him, with a bite of his bottom lip. It was hard enough that you accidentally drew blood, yet it didnโt stop you nonetheless.ย
Youโd wiped the blood with your tongue causing a wince from him before you pulled back, โI know how you fuck girls, Fernando. Iโm not another submissive fuck. You are the one who's inexperienced, this is my area. I boss you around.โ Youโd said, and had immediately felt how the power in his hands slowly slipped away.ย
He nodded and you pushed him against the kitchen counter again. โI wanna hear you say itโ
Fernando looked up at you with a glint youโd only ever dreamed of in his eyes. โCome on, nando, I donโt have to ask twice do I?โ You ask.
โYou are in chargeโ He whispers and you nod.
โWasnโt that hard was it?โ You say gripping his hips and lifting him onto the counter. You slowly pull off your shirt then, watching as best you can as Fernando's eyes roll over your body.
His tongue dips out the wet his lips, as you drop the fabric to the floor beside his. You step closer then, between his legs, running your hands up and down his denim clad thighs, causing his body to shiver.ย
โYou donโt know how long Iโve wanted to see you like thisโ He says almost shyly and you soften ever so slightly.ย
โI wanna fuck you fernando, so fucken bad, but fuck, you might as well be a virginโ You breath and he sits straighter.ย
โIโm not, you know thatโ He says, as you lift his head to look up at you with one hand.ย
โYou telling me someones fucked your tight little ass before?โ You ask and a blush finds his face, he seldom shakes his head. โThatโs what I thoughtโ You say moving your hand up from the movement on his thigh to the hard on pressing against denim. Matching the movement in shorter bursts that was on his thigh moments earlier.ย
โYouโve just gotta trust meโ You say kissing him again. He kisses you back.ย
โI trust youโ He says when you pull apart. His hands come up to your cheeks and he pulls you in closer. You let your hands slide down then over his chest, down his stomach to the messy line of hair leading into his pants. You undo the button of his jeans pulling away to look him in his eyes.ย
A silent question that he was okay with this. You knew how Fernando felt. Hell, youโd been in his place once upon a time. Inexperienced with an internalized homophobia that had you wanting to run away at every movement.ย
But you had gotten past that, and it seemed Fernando was slowly creeping over that hill. So you promised yourself youโd be slow, he deserved his first time to be good. He deserved the sweetness you both treated each other with long before Ferrari.ย
So when he nodded you moved to his ear as his hands fell to your biceps. โYou are such a good boy for me, huh?โ You ask before nipping his ear and unzipping his jeans. โGonna take my time with this perfect body of yoursโ You say tugging the denim past his hips. He braces his hands on either side of himself on the counter, pushing up enough for you to rid of the dark denim.
When heโs set back on the marble counter your mouth is back on his, soft and sweet. You let your hand slip into his boxers and he hisses. โFuck, I love your soundsโ You praise and his head falls into the crook of your shoulder, and your hand moves against his shaft.ย
He bites before soothing it with his tongue, it causes a gasp from you and you feel the way his lips twitch into a smile against your skin. His hands run up and down your back as you slowly move your hand that's wrapped around him.ย ย
It sends shivers down both your bodies.ย
When youโve teased him enough, his breath heavy against your skin, nipping at your ear and shoulder, you pull him off the counter. You push down his underwear letting him step out of his clothes completely, and push them to the side before you turn him around.ย
You guide him gently down against the calm marble earning a hiss from the cold. You let your hand that's at the back of his neck slide down his spine to the curve of his ass. You give it a small slap that has Fernando whimper.ย
โFuck, those soundsโ You hiss as your dominant hand moves around his hips to gather the precum leaking from his tip. Moving your hand around his tip gathering as much as you could before snaking your hand to his backside again.ย
You let your messed hand slip between his cheeks rubbing ever so lightly around the rim on him. He makesย movements and sounds at the intrusion, but you take your time prepping him. Moving your fingers against him, pushing lightly and letting go, all until heโs used to the feeling.ย
Only then do you tell him to take a deep breath and let your middle finger enter him. He gasps at the intrusion but you wait for him to adjust, letting him spasm around you. He clenches and unclenches as you guide his breath.ย
When his breath has normalized again, you start moving. Slow strokes, in and out, not enough to overwhelm him but enough for him to grow pleasure from it.ย
โMoreโ He grumbles at one point and you lean down to kiss his shoulder before pulling out of him. You bring your fingers back to your mouth spitting on them before teasing his entrance yet again.ย
This time when you slip in, your index has joined your middle. And just like before you take your time, allowing him to adjust, to breath, to gain pleasure from it.ย
The last thing you wanted to do now was to hurt him, to leave a bad first impression. You had years of history and years of almosts and what ifs. But you had him here, bent over your kitchen, completely at your mercy.
Sure there was a part of you that just wanted to fuck him senseless, regardless of the pain. Yet, the part of you that had always loved and respected him over rode that sadistic side. You didnโt want this to be a one time thing, you knew it probably would be, it always was with him, but you would never let yourself hurt him just because of that.ย
So when heโd adjusted to three fingers, panting and breathless youโd pulled out of him, and turned him around to kiss you again. When you pulled back you looked at him, that look of bliss on his face that had your heart turning to dough, made you smile.
You wiped some of the hair from his face and kissed his forehead. โNeed a break?โ You asked and he nodded.ย
โItโs overwhelmingโ He admitted and you nodded.ย
โYea, yeah it is.โ You say pulling his boxers back up. โWe will go at your pace, okay? I want to make love to you Fernando, not just fuck you like you donโt mean something to meโ You whispered and he looked into your eyes with a softness youโd never seen.ย
โWhy do you keep letting me come back, time and time again? Even though I hurt you each time?โ He asks and you shrug.ย
โBecuase you are my person, always have been. The only person who never made me apologize for who I am. The only person who will ever truly know me, even though we donโt speak oftenโ You admit, letting your hand find his face, cupping it, your thumb running against his cheek.ย
โIโve made so many mistakes, Iโve hurt you. Iโm sorry I just-โ You cut him off with a kiss.ย
When you pull back his eyes are wide and confused. โDonโt apologize. We are conditioned as kids that society will not accept us for who we are. And even though we know differently, we see differently, it doesnโt stop us from internalizing it. It was hard for me the first time as well.โ You tell him your thumb goes back to the soothing motion on his cheek.ย
โHell the first guy I dated, outed me and almost ruined my life, it took years to recover and trust someone after that. You know that, you defended me when it came out. If it werenโt for you and a few others, I wouldnโt be where I am today. I wouldnโt have achieved what I have.โ You tell him.ย
โSo I get it, maybe not exactly what you feel, but I understand that fear. And that sometimes it makes us make mistakes, to hurt people we donโt mean to. It drives us places we never thought weโd goโ You tell him and he nods.ย
โI guess I never looked at it that way. I just always thought I was an asshole who fucked with the man he knew loved him because there was something fundamentally wrong with me.โ He says and you laugh.ย
โYou think I love you?โ You ask and his face goes pale.ย
โI didnโt think- I mean- Not romantically- Iโ He stumbles over his words and you soften before shutting him up with a press of soft lips against his.ย
โYouโd be right, whichever way you thought. I think I always have. Even as kids I knew you werenโt just my friend. I couldnโt explain it then, but I can now.โ You whispered and his brows furrowed.ย
โWhat?โ
โIโve never felt like I could truly be myself around someone, like I've never had to hide. Iโve never wanted to just disappear from the world with someone and know Iโd never get sick of them.โ
โ Asficdiary:
โณ Masterlist || Fernando Masterlist || PART THREE || PART FIVE
โ Taglist:
โณ @jamesiesposts || @valeelavvale || @apheliosbestmain
author's note: This story was born from a request by @asficdiary ,and from this photo of Fernando at the piano... The rest, as always, came entirely from my slightly crazy little mind!
summary: After spending the night together, you wake up to the sound of Fernando playing Moon River on the piano. In the quiet before dawn, music, laughter and honest conversations bring you even closer as you begin discovering the parts of each other that go far beyond first impressions.
genre: Romance, Fluff, Slow Burn, Slice of Life
word count : 2646
It takes you a moment to remember where you are. As soon as you open your eyes, you look around, slightly disoriented, but within a few moments everything comes back to you: dinner, the evening, and everything that eventually led you to find yourself in that bed.
It must be late, or very early. It's still dark outside. You stretch slightly and notice that the bed beside you is empty, the sheets still rumpled and the pillow crooked against the headboard.
You push yourself up slightly on your forearms to look around, and only then do you hear something, soft music, something distant and barely audible.
You stay still for a few moments, listening, because the notes sound familiar, so you decide to get up and walk into the next room, just as you are, wearing only your silk slip and barefoot, following that melody that seems more and more familiar with every step.
When you reach the living room, everything is less dark, the lights are dim but on, and the music is louder. You recognize the song immediately and, for a moment, you're surprised. Moon River, a timeless classic, the soundtrack of Breakfast at Tiffany's. You round the corner and see Fernando sitting at the piano.
He's the one playing, without any sheet music in front of him, with the calmness of someone who knows that melody perfectly and has played it countless times, perhaps even just for himself.
You stay there in silence, captivated as always by those notes, which, in that moment, affect you perhaps a little more than usual, considering that he's the one playing them.
An endless amount of time passes, though perhaps it isn't really that long, and then you take a few steps forward. Fernando turns his head as he notices you and smiles.
"How long have you been spying on me?" he asks, amused.
"A little while..." you admit, walking over before sitting down beside him on the piano bench. "Audrey Hepburn?" you ask, tilting your head.
"My mother is her biggest fan..." he admits, playing a few notes from the movie's main theme.
"So am I... But I can't play. I've always wanted to learn, but..." you smile. "I didn't know you played..."
"You thought it was just a decorative piano?" he asks.
"Something like that..." you laugh. "...I guess there are quite a few things left to discover about you..."
"Many more than you could ever discover in just a couple of dates," he admits while playing a few more notes of the same song.
"You win me over like this," you say quietly.
"I thought the fact that you're here tonight meant I'd already done that," he replies, turning his face towards you.
"I suppose..." you smile. "...what else is there to discover about you?" you ask, resting your chin on his shoulder, and the first thing he does is lean over to kiss you.
"It would be too easy if I told you everything. You'll have to find out on your own," he replies.
"A mysterious man... I like that," you comment.
"And if I came to your place, what would I discover?" he asks curiously.
"It would be too easy if I told you everything..." you echo, making him laugh. "I'll give you a few hints. You'd discover that I'm definitely not the tidiest person in the world, I couldn't hide that even if I wanted to," you admit. "That I'm completely incapable of keeping plants alive. I don't have any, except for a lemon tree on my terrace. My mother gave it to me and thinks it's always the same one, but I actually buy a new one every time she comes over because it dies every single time," you continue, laughing, and he laughs too.
"I have a housekeeper who takes care of the plants. I don't even know how many I have or what kind they are..." he admits. "...even if I wanted to, I'd never be here to water them, but if I had the time, I'd like to."
"What's it like, always living out of a suitcase?" you ask.
"It's become a habit by now. I don't know if I'd even be able to live any other way," he replies after thinking about it for a few moments. "I started when I was nineteen, now I'm almost forty-five, so... you do the math," he laughs.
"I've never travelled that much, you know? A little, yes, but less than I would have liked. My ex-husband was definitely too much of a homebody, he hated flying... I think, basically, he just wasn't curious about what was outside our home..." you say.
"How boring..." he comments. "...I mean..."
"How boring, yes..." you cut in. "...I couldn't stand the monotony of our life anymore. It was always the same, it was flat, it was... boring. Life shouldn't be boring, don't you think?" you ask him.
"Absolutely. I do everything I can to make sure mine isn't," Fernando agrees, looking at you.
"The day after I signed the divorce papers, I booked a trip to Iceland with my best friend... I'd always wanted to see it and he... 'It's too far,' 'It's too cold'... So I just went, we needed it..." you begin telling him. "We rented a car and simply drove wherever we wanted, it was amazing."
"Iceland is one place I'm still missing, you know?" he tells you thoughtfully. "It's incredible, now that I think about it, I've actually never been there..." he laughs.
"Well then, I'll take you there. It's... wonderful... I'd dreamed of it for years and I don't even know exactly why, but it was one of those dreams I'd always kept in a drawer, and as soon as I had the chance..."
"And then you moved to Monte Carlo?" he asks curiously, and you nod.
"I changed jobs the following year. Before that I was in Genoa, but here... well, when it comes to the luxury yacht industry, I'd say there's no better place..." you laugh. "...so about six months ago... I ended up here."
"And then you tried to sell me a yacht," he cuts in with an amused smile.
"Hey, you came to me... Just to see what we had to offer. I simply seized the opportunity..." you smile.
"...So did I, the opportunity to ask you out to dinner," he comments, clearly pleased, and you laugh, leaning towards him. He slips an arm around your waist.
"...I'm glad you stayed here tonight..." he adds.
"Oh, really?" you ask, lifting your face to look at him. The room is wrapped in half-light, but his eyes still have that spark that caught your attention the very first time you saw him.
"...Yeah... for several reasons. The dinner, the company... The fact that I was dying to make love to you..." he says quietly, never taking his eyes off you.
"You're someone who makes it pretty clear what he wants," you comment.
"...I like being clear... Right from the start," he smiles.
"I'd noticed..." you reply softly.
For a few seconds, neither of you says anything. You simply stay there, close together, the piano in front of you and the house wrapped in that silence that only exists before dawn.
Fernando is the one to break it.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Oh God..." you joke. "Go on, shoot..." you say, curious to hear what's on his mind.
"But you have to be honest when you answer," he points out.
"I'm always honest," you protest, pretending to be offended.
He tilts his head slightly "Does this scare you?"
You frown a little,"What do you mean?" you ask.
"Us. The first time I asked you out, you said you weren't sure it was a good idea..." he explains.
You look at him for a few moments without answering.
"But then I said yes..." you reply, "I guess it does scare me a little," you admit.
"Why?" he presses, growing more and more curious, and you look back at him, not really knowing what to answer.
What is it that scares you, after all? The fact that it's him? That he's Fernando Alonso? The man you'd only seen on magazine covers, on television, in the Formula One paddock.
And now you're sitting at his piano, with his arm around your waist, at four in the morning, after spending the night in his bed.
"Because it wasn't part of my plans," you admit.
He looks at you, raising an eyebrow, "So... you had plans?"
"Of course. I always have plans..." you say with a sigh "Not having them throws me off balance..." you admit.
"Let's hear them. What plans did you have?" he asks quietly.
"Surviving the billionaires who walk into my office, for starters..." you reply, making him burst out laughing. "No, seriously... working, going out with my friends, maybe buying a slightly bigger house in a few years... normal things," you explain, gesturing with your hands.
"And I'm not normal?" he asks, and you shake your head.
"No..." you smile. "...I'd say definitely not, at least not in my plans... After the divorce I went out with a few people, but... I still hadn't met anyone I genuinely liked..." you add honestly.
He lowers his gaze to the piano keys, "It hadn't happened to me in a long time either," he admits. "And besides, neither are you. Normal."
"Me? I'm the most ordinary person in the world," you object with a laugh.
"A normal woman wouldn't have started arguing with me just to sell me a yacht," he replies, turning to look at you, and you stare back at him in surprise.
"That was my job..." you cut in, not really understanding.
"No." He shakes his head gently. "Your job was to show it to me. Instead, you started explaining why the one I already had wasn't good enough anymore... Basically giving me the third degree about my life..."
You burst out laughing "I have to get to know my clients if I want to satisfy them, and besides, it was true..."
"I know. And that was the moment I decided I wanted to ask you out to dinner..." he says with an amused smile, and you look at him in surprise.
"When I started giving you the third degree?" you ask.
"When we spent an hour and a half in your office talking about travelling, yes..." he agrees, looking at you.
You realize you're blushing, "So... while I was trying to convince you to spend a few million euros..." you joke, trying to lighten the mood.
"More or less, yes..." he laughs.
"How romantic," you say, putting on an exaggerated dreamy expression.
"Very," he replies, pretending to be completely serious.
"I thought it had been the dress, to be honest," you add.
"No."
"Then my hair?"
"No."
"My undeniable elegance?"
He laughs again.
"No... that came later..." he replies. "...although the white dress definitely didn't go unnoticed," he jokes.
You laugh, amazed at how natural it feels to be there, in the silence, laughing, talking, simply getting to know this man who, there's no point denying it, intrigued you from the very beginning.
"So what was it?" you ask, genuinely curious to know the answer, and Fernando actually takes a moment to think about it.
"The way you talked to me, as if you didn't care in the slightest who was standing in front of you, or as if you had no idea," he replies after a while, and you stare at him in surprise.
"Oh, I knew exactly who you were," you comment.
"More or less..." he corrects. "You knew I was Fernando Alonso, sure, but you talked to me as if I were simply a man who'd walked in to look at a yacht."
"Because that's what you were," you reply.
"Exactly," he says, turning towards you. "And that's something that happens very rarely. Finding someone who doesn't treat you differently, with reverence and all that bullshit..."
You stay silent for a moment before asking, "Does it bother you when people treat you differently?"
"I'm used to it by now, it's part of the game," he replies thoughtfully. "But every now and then it's nice to be treated like anyone else," he adds simply.
"You're not just anyone, not even now..." you tell him.
"Oh, really?" he asks with a smile, and you shake your head.
"Nah... I mean, you're definitely sexier than average," you continue, making him laugh out loud.
Then he reaches a hand towards the keyboard.
"Give me your hand. I'll teach you something," he says.
"Just so you know, I can't play," you comment.
"Well, two weeks ago you didn't even know you wanted to go out with a Formula One driver," he jokes.
"Touchรฉ," you laugh, resting your hand on the white keys, and he places his over yours.
"This is a C," he tells you.
"What note does Moon River start with?" you ask.
"With C," he replies, playing the note, then he guides you through the next one, and the one after that, until you're clumsily playing that beautiful melody.
"It sounded better when you played it," you comment.
"We'll practise..." he replies with a smile.
"Planning on more late-night sessions?" you ask as the two of you hold each other's gaze in that unreal silence.
"I hope so," he replies.
"Will you play it for me again?" you ask, and he nods. The opening notes begin again, and then you start singing the first verse.
"Moon River, wider than a mile
I'm crossing you in style someday."
Fernando stops playing and looks at you in disbelief. You sing, and you're actually quite good.
"Surprised I'm not tone-deaf?"
"A little..." he admits, impressed, starting to play again while you continue.
"Oh, dream maker
You heartbreaker
Wherever you're going, I'm going your way
Two drifters off to see the world
There's such a lot of world to see
We're after the same rainbow's end
Waiting 'round the bend
My huckleberry friend
Moon River and me."
The song comes to an end and silence falls over the room for what feels like an endless few minutes.
"We should go back to bed..." he says quietly.
"Oh, so you do sleep sometimes...?" you ask, never taking your eyes off him.
"Sometimes..." he replies with a shrug. "Not much tonight."
"How come?" you ask, and he answers without even thinking.
"I remembered one damn detail from the last race..." he sighs. "The wrong tyre strategy and..." he gestures.
"So while you were in bed with me... you were thinking about tyre strategies? You might want to work on your romantic side, Alonso..." you comment, and his eyes widen as he realizes you've completely misunderstood him.
"No, no... that's not what I meant..." he says, embarrassed. "I wasn't thinking about tyres while we were in bed together," he explains, and you burst out laughing, seeing him caught off guard in a way you never have before. "I couldn't sleep and I started thinking..." he justifies himself. "...I definitely wasn't thinking about tyres while I was with you."
"I certainly hope not..." you say, climbing onto your knees on the piano bench before settling onto his lap. His hands slide gently along your back.
"I can assure you of that," he says quietly.
"And what are you thinking about now?" you ask before kissing him, and he kisses you back without hesitation.
"I don't think I can answer that," he says, and you both laugh as you pull back just enough to look at him.
"Shall we go to bed?" you ask softly.
"To sleep?" he challenges, his voice sending shivers down your spine.
"We'll stay awake only if you promise not to think about tyres," you reply, making him smile.
"Promise," he says, getting to his feet and taking you with him.
Hi! The is the masterlist for the 'Futile Devices' fanfic :)
Moodboard:
Futile Devices - Moodboard
Story Information:
Set in the hills of northern Italy, you visit during the summer to help a professor with his research project, only to get absolutely wrapped around his son's finger.
Pairing:
Fernando Alonso x male!older!reader (reader is like 24, Fernando is 18.) discriptions used
NEW JAMES STORY ALERT! NEW JAMES STORY ALERT! OMG, I am so incredibly excited for this!! Ugh, summer please come back I want to read this beside the pool, not under a million blankets freezing. UGH, I AM SO INCREDIBLY HYPED FOR THIS!
Every time I open this app, I am hit with immense guilt because I have no new updates at the moment. I am at such a hectic time in my life having just finished mid year exams, and although I have the next month off, I have to focus on my career path a little bit over the upcoming weeks.
I don't think I've ever mentioned this on here, but I do social media management as well as create content within the car and motorsport scene of my country. Therefore, July, even though it's literally winter, is always the busiest. With 3 big events happening over the next month, I have a lot of work to do, so I'm not sure when I'll have a chance to write again.
Thank you all so much for the love and support regardless!!
(And for those waiting on story updates, *yes, i'm looking at you james*, i hope to have some for you super soon!)
iโve seen people talk about โx driver would be great at commentatingโ but in my heart of hearts i only want fernando alonso as an f1 commentator. heโs a generational hater who doesnโt fuck with anyone but himself, max and gabi so whenever he retires in 30 or 40 years i want to see him reach never before seen levels of haterism on live tv.
