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Say Yes to Me | Fernando Alonso x Reader

part 2 to boy it's you i desire

fem!reader x dbf! fernando

word count: 2.4k

minors dni!

taglist: @scarlettmurphy @nizem8 @sarahedwards16 @ashf1 @all--that--jazz @rhey-007 @spanishgp @savrose129 @roostersluvvr (sorry if i missed you!)

warnings: age gap, swearing, mentions of sex, mentions of masturbating, and a pinch of smut

Fernando had gently taken you by the arm once more, and led you to the pool, which was a mere few meters from where you had been. He pulled you closer to him, and almost as a reflex, you put your hands on his chest. Your back was to the pool, while his face was tantalizingly close to yours. You looked up at him slightly, as he was not much taller than you. He had an absolutely stunning, devious grin on his face. He pulled back, your hands falling away. Part of you wondered why he moved so quickly. Did you misinterpret his glances that you pretended not to see? Was he just playing with you? You were at an irritating loss. You were not even able to tell if there was thick, sexual tension, or if you just really, really wanted there to be. You were biding your time.

Before you could say something to him, or even take another breath, he pushed you into the deepest end of the large pool. You were unable to even react fast enough to grab him, or something to keep yourself from getting soaked.

“‘Nando! What the hell was that?” You sputtered, slowly swimming over the pool’s ledge. You pushed your hair away from your face, slightly irritated that you were going to have to wash your hair again later that evening.

The only thing that could fix that was having someone in the shower to do it for you… Thinking about him in the steam, carefully rubbing your body with your favorite shower gel would drive you over the edge in every way. Him standing before you, slowly sliding his hands down your sides, while you tangled your fingers in his hair. Holy fuck, his hair. You had no issue thinking that when you were left to wash the dishes, or reading before you went to bed, but not when Fernando was this close to you. Even worse, you knew he would see your lips upturn into an accidental smile, and ask what you were thinking about. You could always be honest. But, the “I was thinking about you fucking me in my shower!” route was a little too bold for you.

“I did nothing. What are you talking about?” He laughed, and said your name while shaking his head. He lowered himself to a crouch once more, then rested his hands on the pool’s ledge, examining the flowers that your mother had planted on the other side of the garden. As the world had learned, he was a flower padre, and he distracted himself at the worst time. Turning his head away from you was a mistake. You grabbed his wrists, effectively yanking him into the pool with you.

“Ay, cariño, it is one thing when I do it to you!” You quickly swam away, daring him to swim after you. He did exactly that. You messily swam a few zig-zags around the pool, before you were able to make your escape. You knew you were not going to be able to stay away from him for long. He was so fit, even if he was practically a fossil. You darted across the grass, drops of chlorinated water flying off your skin. You could hear Fernando’s footsteps closing in. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see that signature, self-assured grin growing as he shortened the gap to you.

As embarrassing as it was, your heart was pounding in your chest. In a last ditch attempt to stay away from Fernando, you bolted behind an older, wide tree in the corner of the yard. Your tall fence was just behind you, with a few scattered plants to the side of you. Mulch crunched under your feet as you began to slow your pace, knowing you had nowhere else to turn. He went to grab your shoulder, but managed to grab the one tie of your bikini top, causing it to come undone on one side. You quickly caught it, vaguely embarrassed about the situation the two of you were in. There you were, practically cupping your tit in front of one of the hottest men you had ever met. You only faced him, as you needed to scoot past him in order to properly fix your bikini. Apologies began to spill from Fernando’s lips, wanting to try and remedy the compromising position. He had wanted to rip that bikini top from your gorgeous frame, but this was an honest accident.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered. A frustrated sigh fell past your lips. It was absolutely impossible to tie the strap with the cruel combination of pruney fingers, and wet hair continually dripping down your neck, onto your shoulder. You let your hands fall to your side, forgoing the strap for a moment. You did not need to deal with angry tears on top of being fucking mortified. You roughly ran your hands down your face, preparing to try again.

“Let me help,” Fernando walked over, and was standing within a meter of you. He was easily able to tell that you were struggling, since you had not moved or really said anything in a few minutes. He figured he could at least end the awkward silence that fell over the entire yard.

“No, Fernando. I promise, it’s fine.” It wasn’t that you were upset with him, you wanted him to touch your shoulder. You just were not in the mood for having another stupid interaction to fantasize over. One that meant everything to you, and definitely meant nothing to him.

“I caused this, and you will let me fix it. Come here.” His tone became stern, and it was not something you expected. You decided to mess with him. He was leaving tomorrow, and if your stunt missed the mark, you had no idea when you were going to see him next. You closed the gap to him enough so he could reach the strap, but not enough to be called into question. You calmly swallowed, preparing for your little, albeit insane, plan.

“Well, since you want to help, why not do some more work?” You stared into his eyes. Letting your hand drop from where it was supporting your top, you moved both of your hands to untie the other strap. You figured it was now or never. The bikini top fell from your body, leaving your chest entirely bare. The only clothing covering you now were the equally small, matching bikini bottoms. The look in your eyes playfully dared him to do whatever, make his mark.

For a brief moment, Fernando’s eyes were full of shock. You were unable to tell if you had overstepped, and you fully prepared to fix your swimsuit, then retreat into the depths of the house until he left. While you were still momentarily swimming in panic, Fernando was suddenly within mere centimeters of you. Looking into his eyes, you slowly closed the gap to him. The way you felt during that kiss alone called into question why you had not sought Fernando out sooner. Fucking hell, you were addicted after twenty seconds.

You woke up in your house’s guest bedroom the next morning, the sun was barely beginning to rise, as it was just peeking above the horizon. The dim light was just shining through the blinds, casting small rays across Fernando’s face. You saw a few of your things strewn about the room, intermingling with Fernando’s belongings he had brought for the week. It made you picture a beautiful life with him, if only you were not almost twenty years his junior. Or if there was not an even more glaring elephant in the room: him being a man you call tío. The idea was tantalizing. Sharing a home, having a Christmas tree, little feet running around. You brought yourself back to the present, realizing you will only enjoy him like this once.

You and Fernando’s naked bodies were intertwined, the sheets wrapped around you. You were curled into him, and your head was lying close to his chest. You could hear his quiet breaths over the eerie silence of your family’s home. As you shifted your weight, preparing to begin the day, Fernando groaned. He placed his hand on your back, rubbing your shoulder blades, then tracing your spine with his finger. You smiled, trying not to shiver. He was trying to press you closer to him, if that was even physically possible. Heat radiated off his smooth skin, making it difficult to want to leave his intense embrace.

“Cariño, stop moving. We have the house to ourselves. And, I want to feel that mouth of yours again.” His voice was soft, as everyone’s is when they first wake up. He was smiling as he talked, evidently feeling very pleased with himself.

“Shut up.” You laughed in response, swatting at him. You would indulge him at some point, of course. You needed to enjoy every inch of him while it lasted.

You were the most beautiful woman Fernando had ever seen. He had never been more glad to see your parents and brothers disappear in the middle of the week. Your moans echoed in his ears. He pictured the pleasure in your eyes when he devoured you like a man starved. The large, raised scratches in his back cemented how good he made you feel. He is a selfish man, as most racing drivers are. The next time you fucked one of your little boyfriends he wanted you to be thinking of how he got you to unravel so easily. On his fingers, in his mouth, everywhere. His name spilt from your mouth, like a prayer before death.

His fingers, and his mouth were more than enough. They were too much. His tongue would ghost over your pussy and clit, his breath fanning across where you needed him most. His cock was unfathomable. Not unrealistic, but thick and long enough where you felt instantly full of him. He took you on your kitchen island first. You were both still wet from the pool, leaving a trail of water throughout the kitchen. You two kissed with fucking ferocity, stumbling through your large home, neither of you wanting to lose the other for a millisecond. You had an all-encompassing, carnal need for him. Aftering inhaling his cologne, while feeling his lips begin to trail down your neck, it was game over. There was no way to explain this, write it off as a childhood crush. No one fucks their father’s closest friend on a kitchen island because of a crush from the days of roll-on lipgloss and temporary tattoos.

From the second your lips brushed, you knew there would be no need to fake an orgasm, and play pretend. Bowls clattered as you hastily climbed on the countertop. You swear you had soaked through your bikini bottom before he had even laid a finger on your body. Following your stunt in the backyard, you felt zero need to re-tie your bikini top. Your small bottoms ended up on the tile soon enough, with Fernando’s wet clothes following in quick succession. Every movement was rushed, sloppy, messy. Hips slapping, and moans bouncing through the rooms of your parent’s home. Every fantasy you created while you touched yourself paled in comparison. The sex had you at a loss for words. He was the only man you could imagine laying naked with on your kitchen island, languidly making out with following multiple orgasms.

In the early morning, the dim sunlight fell on him so beautifully, glinting off of the newfound gray that intermingled with his brown hair. Still locked in his embrace, you ran your fingers through his hair. He had let it get longer than he had in the past, and you prayed he stayed away from a pair of scissors. You suddenly pulled at his hair, eliciting a groan from Fernando.

“Don’t tease, amor. I hate that in my old age.” You turned once more, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, smiling into it. You finally peeled the sheets from your body, and got up.

Even though the Spanish sun was hot, and the Spanish man next to you was even hotter, the tile beneath your feet was perfectly cool. You walked around the room, gathering your toothbrush, clothing, and other small items you scattered in the room the previous evening. You put everything in a pile on the dresser. Fernando’s suitcase laid in front of you, and you decided to dig through it for a shirt to wear that day. You decided on one of his Aston Martin team shirts, nothing incredibly fancy. You pulled it over your naked frame, and grabbed your things from where they briefly rested. It was not too big on you, so it covered a little bit of your ass at the very least. You were going to quickly go to your room to get dressed. You knew putting makeup on was out of the question, as it would probably be smeared from your face soon enough.

As you moved toward the door, Fernando called for you to come back. You told him what you were doing, and you were met with a brief protest that you laughed off. You would return to him quickly, and your fresh clothes would end up in a rumpled ball on the floor. You came back to the room less than ten minutes later, a cloud of your perfume trailing in your wake. You were still wearing his shirt, obviously, but with shorts and a bra on. Like a normal person who had not spent the last eighteen hours fucking their dad’s closest friend!

You climbed into the bed, crawling to where the most handsome man you had ever met lay, oblivious to any other noises. You sat on his lap, and straddled him.

“So where did we leave off, papí?” You smiled up at him, knowing how much he loved hearing you call him that. His facial expression changed, a devious grin taking over his face. You knew you were in for a literally wild ride.

Before you moved another centimeter, you happened to hear the front door of your house open, the entryway filling with your parents’ and brothers’ voices.

—

author's note: i am eternally sorry for how long this took me! college burnt me out from writing, and my first semester was an emotional rollercoaster. thank you so, so, so much for reading! i will proofread this more closely in the next few days, but i hope it was worth the wait! please shoot me any feedback you have, or if there's something you think i should write next. xoxo

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