Fernando Alonso Masterlist

Favorite Lap

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pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: between races and roaring engines, Oscar Piastri finds his sweetest escape in her.

a/n: Im so sorry for being inactive but I don’t have any request so please send something!!

After another exhilarating race, the thunder of engines had finally faded into a soft, echoing hum. The circuit’s lights shimmered against the night sky, and the once-busy paddock now lay quiet under a gentle blanket of dusk. Oscar Piastri, his heart still pulsing with the adrenaline of competition, stepped away from the fervor of the track. Tonight, he sought a different kind of rush,a moment of peace and tenderness that only the night could offer.

In a secluded corner of the paddock, where the glow of distant floodlights mingled with the stars above, you waited. There was something magical about this hidden nook, a secret retreat from the world of roaring engines and relentless expectations. As Oscar approached, his eyes softened at the sight of you: the calm in his otherwise frenetic life, a living reminder that there was more to victory than podium finishes.

—Hey. —he said, his voice low and warm, as if sharing a cherished secret. In that single word, there was an invitation, a silent promise that tonight, nothing else mattered. You offered a gentle smile, one that outshone the brilliance of any spotlight, and in that smile, Oscar felt his worries dissipate.

The two of you settled onto a worn bench near the pit lane, a humble spot that had witnessed countless triumphs and setbacks over the years. Here, away from the cameras and the cacophony of post-race celebrations, the world felt small and intimate. The hum of the cooling engines became a lullaby, and the soft whisper of the wind through nearby trees was the only sound needed to set the rhythm for the night.

— I always thought that after a race, all I’d feel was exhaustion. —Oscar confessed, his eyes drifting over the quiet track. —But when I’m with you, even the silence sings.

You reached out, lightly touching his hand, a gesture that was both comforting and electric. In that fleeting contact, there was an unspoken understanding: no matter how fast the world raced around you, here in this moment, time was yours to share.

The conversation flowed as naturally as the night. Oscar spoke of the relentless pace of his life on the track, the pressure of performance, the endless pursuit of perfection, and the loneliness that sometimes came with the spotlight. You listened intently, offering solace with every tender word and soft laugh. In return, you shared your own dreams and quiet moments of courage, the everyday battles and gentle victories that formed the mosaic of your life.

Under the starlight, the racetrack transformed from a battleground of speed into a serene haven for two souls who had found solace in one another. The adrenaline that had once driven Oscar was now tempered by a more profound feeling, a reminder that amidst the roar of engines and the pursuit of glory, the heart craved a different kind of triumph. One measured not in seconds or laps, but in smiles, whispered secrets, and stolen glances.

The night deepened, and the temperature dropped just enough for you to pull Oscar closer under a shared blanket. There, amid the shadows and the lingering warmth of the day’s energy, every small detail felt imbued with meaning. The gentle brushing of hair from his forehead, the soft murmur of your laughter blending with the distant sounds of the cooling machines, and the quiet assurance in his steady gaze, all spoke of a connection that transcended the chaos of racing life.

—You make it all feel so… gentle. —Oscar admitted, his tone imbued with both wonder and vulnerability. —I spend so much time chasing speed, chasing perfection… but with you, I feel like I’ve finally found a place to slow down and just be.

You smiled, your heart echoing the sentiment. In that tender admission, there was an entire universe of unspoken emotions, a silent pact to embrace the beauty of the moment despite the ever-present call of the racetrack. The night was yours alone, a private interlude where every heartbeat and every shared glance wove together the fabric of a burgeoning love.

As the hours slipped by, the distant rumble of an approaching dawn reminded you both that the world outside was waiting. Soon, the calm of the night would give way to the realities of a new day, pressures, expectations, and the unyielding pace of a life defined by speed. Yet, for now, you were suspended in a timeless bubble, a sanctuary where the only race was one of hearts aligning in perfect harmony.

Oscar’s hand squeezed yours gently as he stood up, his eyes still fixed on the horizon. —No matter what tomorrow brings, these moments will always be my favorite lap. —he said softly, a quiet promise lingering in the air.

You nodded, understanding that sometimes the most significant victories aren’t celebrated with roaring crowds or shimmering trophies, but with the quiet acknowledgment of shared dreams and heartfelt confessions. Tonight, in the gentle aftermath of a fierce race, you had both found a victory far sweeter than any trophy, a victory that resided in the simple, unadorned truth of being together.

As you both walked slowly towards the exit of the paddock, the stars overhead seemed to shine just a bit brighter, each one a tiny beacon celebrating the connection forged in the quiet of the night. For Oscar, every race would now carry the memory of this gentle interlude, a reminder that amidst the flash of speed and the pulse of adrenaline, there was always a place where his heart could rest, with you.

In that delicate balance between the fast-paced world of racing and the tranquil beauty of the night, you had become his sweetest escape. And as the first light of dawn crept across the horizon, both of you knew that while the race might resume soon, the tender moments shared here would forever be a cherished chapter in the story of your hearts.

Wedding bells

Heyy guys, I hope you enjoy this Toto one-shot, let me know what you think:) If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

The morning sun filtered softly through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the bridal suite. A sea of ivory tulle and delicate lace surrounded you as you sat before the mirror, heart pounding in your chest. It was your wedding day—the day you had dreamed of, planned for, obsessed over to the very last detail. Yet, instead of excitement, all you felt was an overwhelming sense of pressure.

The makeup artist dabbed at your lips with a final stroke of soft pink, stepping back to admire her work. "You look stunning," she said warmly, but her words barely registered. Your mind was spinning with thoughts of the seating arrangements, the flowers, the music. What if something went wrong? What if the guests didn’t enjoy themselves? What if the cake toppled over before you even got a chance to cut it?

A gentle knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts, and your bridesmaid, Anna, rushed to open it. She gasped, spinning toward you. "It's Toto!"

Your eyes widened in panic. "He can't be here! We're not supposed to see each other before the ceremony!"

But before Anna could protest, the tall, commanding figure of your fiancé stepped into the room, his dark eyes locked onto yours. Toto Wolff, ever the composed and confident man, stood in his perfectly tailored suit, his expression unreadable for a moment—until it softened into something achingly tender.

"Toto!" you hissed, scrambling to cover yourself with the sheer robe draped over your wedding gown. "You’re breaking the rules!"

He ignored your protests, closing the door behind him and striding toward you. Anna wisely excused herself, leaving you alone with the man who, in a matter of hours, would be your husband.

Toto reached out, taking your hands in his, his touch grounding you instantly. "Liebling," he murmured, his Austrian accent wrapping around the endearment like silk. "I had to see you."

Your breath hitched as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin. "You look breathtaking."

Your earlier worries melted, if only for a moment. "Toto, you’re not supposed to see me before the ceremony. It's bad luck."

His lips quirked into that knowing smile of his. "We make our own luck, schatz. And right now, you look like you need to breathe."

A lump formed in your throat, the weight of the day pressing down on you again. "I just... I want everything to be perfect."

Toto sighed, shaking his head before pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. "Perfect?" he echoed. "Liebe, the only thing that matters today is that we love each other. Everything else is just noise. If the flowers aren’t right, if the music is off-key, if the entire world falls apart—none of it changes the fact that by the end of today, you’ll be my wife. That’s all that matters."

His words settled over you like a balm, soothing the storm in your mind. "But what if something goes wrong?"

He chuckled, his hands slipping down to your waist as he pulled you closer. "Then we laugh, and we dance, and we celebrate anyway. Because today is about us, not perfection."

Tears pricked your eyes, and you let out a shaky breath. "How do you always know exactly what to say?"

His lips brushed over yours, a whisper of a kiss that sent shivers down your spine. "Because I know you. And I know that you have the biggest heart, the most beautiful soul. And you are mine."

A tear slipped free, but Toto caught it with his thumb, his smile never faltering. "No more worrying, ja? Just enjoy today."

You nodded, your heart swelling with love. "Ja."

His eyes sparkled at your response, and he kissed you again, longer this time, as if he wanted to steal this moment for just the two of you before the world swept you away in the whirlwind of the wedding.

A knock at the door interrupted the intimate bubble you had created. "We need the bride! It’s time!"

Toto sighed, resting his forehead against yours for one last moment. "I’ll be waiting for you at the altar, schatz."

You let out a soft laugh, the nerves that had gripped you earlier now nothing but a distant memory. "I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else."

With one final kiss to your forehead, he stepped back, his eyes lingering on you as he made his way to the door. He hesitated, giving you one last smile before disappearing down the hallway.

You exhaled, a newfound sense of calm settling over you. Because Toto was right. At the end of the day, none of the small details mattered. The only thing that truly mattered was the love you shared, and the future you were about to begin together.

And that was more perfect than anything you could have planned.

@justaf1girl

SEND REQUESTS PLEASEEEE 😞😞😞😞‼️‼️‼️‼️

btw guess who's birthday is (won't say who I am) 🗣‼️🔥

NEED THAT OLD MAN IN THOSE SLUTTY GLASSES

Red Passion

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pairing: ferrari!fernando alonso x gf!reader

summary: during his Ferrari years, Fernando Alonso finds solace and unwavering support in his girlfriend, who stands by him through victories and defeats. Amid the roaring engines and relentless competition, she reminds him of the love and warmth waiting for him beyond the track.

a/n: i know this is a little bit short but i hope that u guys like it, and Im so sorry for being so inactive here!!

The world blurred past him in shades of red and gold as the Italian sun dipped below the horizon. The Ferrari garage buzzed with post-race energy mechanics packing up, engineers analyzing data, reporters hunting for quotes. But for Fernando Alonso, none of that mattered the moment he saw her.

She stood near the back of the garage, just far enough to stay out of the chaos but close enough that he could find her instantly. Her eyes, warm and familiar, met his with a silent question: Are you okay?

He wasn’t. Not really. The race had been brutal. Second place, again. So close yet so far, the championship slipping between his fingers like sand. But as he walked towards her, her presence alone soothed the sharp edges of his disappointment.

The second he reached her, she wrapped her arms around him, her embrace firm and grounding. —You drove beautifully. —she murmured against his shoulder.

He sighed, pressing his forehead to hers, letting himself melt into her for just a moment. —Not enough.

Her fingers traced small circles on his back. —You always say that. And yet, everyone here knows you’re the best driver on the grid.

He huffed a small laugh, tilting his head to look at her. —Everyone?

—Well, maybe not Seb. —she teased, making him chuckle despite himself. —But even he knows it deep down.”

Fernando pulled her closer, her presence a welcome contrast to the ruthless world of Formula 1. Here, there were no engineers calculating lap times, no media spinning narratives just the woman who had loved him through it all.

—You always know what to say. —he admitted, brushing a strand of hair from her face. —How do you do that?

She smiled, her fingers tracing the outline of the prancing horse on his racing suit. —Because I know you. And I know that no matter what the results say, you give everything every time you’re in that car.

He sighed again, softer this time. His body ached, exhaustion creeping in now that the adrenaline had worn off, but she was here, steady and unwavering. That was enough.

—Come on. —she said, taking his hand. —Let’s get out of here. You need food. And sleep.

His lips quirked up. —Are you going to take care of me?

—Always. —she promised.

And as they stepped out of the paddock, away from the noise, the flashing cameras, and the weight of expectations, Fernando knew that no matter what happened on track, he had already won where it truly mattered.

I love love love your toto fics!!! can i req one where it's like based off of illicit afairs by taylor swift? specifically the bridge part?

A Thousand Cuts

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pairing: toto wolff x reader

summary: In the quiet, fleeting hours of the night, love feels fragile yet intoxicating. You swore this would be the last time, but forbidden hearts always return to the places they shouldn’t.

a/n: i really hope that you like it, i tried my best 😢

You promised yourself this would be the last time.

Standing in front of the mirror, your reflection mocked you, as if it could see straight into your unraveling heart. The dim lights of the train station flickered behind you, blurring into the fogged window. The announcement echoed through the platform, calling for a destination you’d memorized far too well.

This is it, you told yourself, gripping the edges of the seat as the train rattled through the city. One last time. One last night.

But you knew the truth. It wouldn’t be the last, just as it hadn’t been the last time before. The thought made your stomach twist, guilt settling into its usual corner alongside the yearning.

When you reached the hotel, your chest tightened. You hesitated at the door, the keycard warm in your trembling hand. The hallway was eerily quiet, your footsteps the only sound until you stood before the door.

You didn’t knock; you never had to.

Inside, Toto sat at the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his tie undone. He looked up as you entered, the faintest trace of relief flickering in his tired eyes.

—I wasn’t sure if you’d come. —he said softly, his Austrian accent curling around the words.

—I wasn’t sure either. —you admitted, closing the door behind you. The lock clicked, sealing you both in this fragile, fleeting world where nothing else existed.

—You always come back. —he murmured, standing. His presence filled the room, broad shoulders, sharp lines, the commanding air he carried even in moments like these.

—I shouldn’t,. —you replied, but your voice wavered.

—And yet. —he said, stepping closer.

He stopped just short of you, close enough for you to feel the heat radiating from him. For a moment, neither of you moved. It was always like this, a dance of restraint, a futile attempt to draw lines in the sand when the tide always washed them away.

Then he reached for you, his hand curling around your wrist as if anchoring you to him. —Why do we keep doing this? —he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t answer, because the answer was too raw, too painful. Instead, you closed the distance between you, your lips brushing his in a kiss that tasted of desperation.

The hours that followed were a blur of tangled sheets and whispered confessions. His hands memorized you, his lips traced paths over your skin as if he could map out every inch of you before the sun rose. And you let him, because you didn’t know how to stop.

—Stay. —he murmured, his voice rough and pleading. His fingers trailed down your arm, his touch lingering as if he feared you might disappear.

—I can’t. —you whispered, though every fiber of your being screamed for you to stay.

—You can. —he insisted, his forehead resting against yours. —Just this once.

But you both knew it wasn’t that simple.

The morning arrived too soon, sunlight creeping through the curtains and shattering the fragile cocoon you’d built around yourselves. You sat on the edge of the bed, pulling your clothes on in silence, the weight of the inevitable goodbye pressing down on you.

—You don’t have to go. —he said, his voice steady, but his eyes betrayed him.

You turned to him, your heart breaking at the sight of him, disheveled, vulnerable, and entirely too much for you to bear. —We can’t keep doing this, Toto.

His jaw tightened, and he nodded, though the defeat in his eyes was unmistakable. —I know.

But neither of you moved.

Finally, you crossed the room, your hand lingering on the doorknob. You glanced back at him one last time, trying to memorize the way he looked in that moment—the way his shoulders sagged, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides.

—I’ll see you. —you said, your voice barely audible.

And then you left, the door clicking shut behind you.

The cool morning air hit your face as you stepped onto the street, and the tears you’d been holding back finally fell. You swore to yourself it would be the last time.

But deep down, you knew you’d be back.

Toto Wolff is in a bad mood and bumps into a girl who spills coffee over him and he goes ballistic on her, only to find her waiting in his office later that day and realising that she is his new assistant. And he apologises and accidentally reveals that he thinks she’s pretty.

Spilled Coffee

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toto wolff masterlist

pairing: toto wolff x assistant!reader

summary: Toto Wolff, in a foul mood, bumps into a woman who spills coffee on him. After a heated exchange, he discovers that she’s his new assistant. Unapologetically bold and confident, she challenges Toto in ways he didn’t expect, forcing him to rethink his first impression.

warnings: tense initial interactions, light humor.

Toto Wolff’s day was, in a word, terrible. Meetings had dragged on endlessly, strategy discussions had gone nowhere, and the pressure of an underperforming car was taking its toll. By the time he left the conference room, his patience was running on fumes.

All he wanted was a cup of coffee to pull himself together before tackling the mountain of paperwork waiting in his office. But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

As he rounded the corner of the hallway, he collided with someone moving at an equally brisk pace.

A gasp escaped from the other party, and before Toto could react, a wave of hot coffee splashed across his tailored suit.

—What the hell! —Toto barked, taking a step back, glaring down at the mess. His dark suit was stained, the sticky liquid seeping into the fabric.

—Oh, fantastic. —a voice responded sharply. —This is just what I needed.

Toto’s head snapped up at the tone. He was met with a pair of defiant eyes glaring right back at him. The woman standing before him wasn’t apologizing; in fact, she seemed just as annoyed as he was.

—Excuse me? —Toto said, his tone sharp and cutting. —You just ruined a suit worth more than your monthly salary.

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. —Maybe if you watched where you were going, this wouldn’t have happened. But sure, blame the person holding the coffee instead of the one charging through the hallway like a freight train.

Toto blinked, momentarily stunned by her boldness. Most people would have been tripping over themselves to apologize, but not her.

—Do you even know who I am? —he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Her lips twitched into a dry smile. —Oh, I know exactly who you are. Toto Wolff, the team principal of Mercedes-AMG Petronas, right? Well, congratulations. Today, you’re also the guy who doesn’t look where he’s going.

Toto’s jaw clenched, his irritation boiling over. —You-

—You’re welcome for the coffee, by the way —she cut him off, brushing past him with a pointed look. —Consider it a wake-up call..

Toto stood there, speechless, as she walked away.

Later That Day

Toto couldn’t shake the incident. As much as he hated to admit it, her sharp wit and unapologetic attitude had left an impression. Most people didn’t dare speak to him that way, and it gnawed at him.

When he finally returned to his office, he hoped to bury himself in work and forget the whole thing. But as he stepped inside, he stopped short.

Sitting at his desk, flipping through a folder, was the same woman from earlier.

She glanced up as the door opened, her expression neutral. —Oh, you’re back.

—What are you doing here? —Toto demanded, his voice laced with irritation.

She closed the folder and stood, offering a polite but firm smile. —I’m your new assistant.

Toto stared at her, his mind racing to catch up. —You’re—what?

—Your assistant —she repeated. —Surprise.

For the first time in a long while, Toto was at a loss for words. —No one informed me of this.

—Well, I was informed —she said, leaning against the desk casually. —And here I am.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to suppress the wave of embarrassment washing over him. —Look, about earlier—

She held up a hand, cutting him off. —Don’t bother. I’m not fragile, Mr. Wolff. You were rude, I was rude back. Let’s call it even.

Her bluntness caught him off guard again. Most people tiptoed around him, afraid to upset the boss. But she wasn’t afraid, and it was… refreshing.

—I owe you an apology —Toto said after a pause, his tone more measured. —I was out of line.

She studied him for a moment before nodding. —Accepted. Now, are we done with the awkward apologies, or do you have more to add?

Toto almost smiled. Almost. —You’re… direct.

—Is that a problem?

—No. —he said quickly. —It’s… effective.

As she turned back to his desk, her movements fluid and confident, Toto muttered, almost to himself, —You’re quite pretty when you’re not yelling at me.

The words slipped out before he could stop them.

She froze, glancing back at him with a sharp look. —Excuse me?

Toto’s eyes widened slightly, realizing what he’d said. His ears turned red, a rare show of embarrassment for the usually composed team principal. —I- what I meant was—

She tilted her head, arms crossed. —Are you complimenting me, Mr. Wolff?

Toto cleared his throat, struggling to regain his composure. —It was just an observation. A poor choice of words, perhaps.

Her lips twitched into a smirk, her confidence unwavering. —Noted. For the record, you’re a bit easier to deal with when you’re flustered.

Toto blinked, caught off guard again. She was a force to be reckoned with, and he wasn’t sure if he should be annoyed or impressed.

—I’ll keep that in mind. —he said, his voice softer this time.

She turned back to her work, a quiet laugh escaping her. Toto watched her for a moment longer, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Maybe this wasn’t the worst first day after all.

Me on my way to read a Slash fanfic

Toto Wolff link for Wolff in the paddock is messed up it just goes right back to the masterlist when you click on it

I just realized, I'm so so sorry. I'll fix it right now. Here is the link, the same if you need it!!

HERE

She’s a Ferrari engineer and different people in the paddock can see how down bad Toto is for her every time they interact.

Downshift

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pairing: toto wolff x ferrari engineer (OC)

summary: toto wolff’s efficiency is legendary. His focus, unwavering. Until she arrives in the paddock as Ferrari’s newest engineer, and everyone starts noticing how he suddenly seems… distracted.

warnings: romantic tension, open ending

The paddock was alive with its usual hum of activity, journalists darting from one garage to another, engineers poring over data, and drivers engaging in last-minute interviews. It was a world of precision, discipline, and focus. Toto Wolff was the embodiment of all three.

Or at least, he had been.

The first meeting of the weekend started like any other: strategy briefs, discussions about weather conditions, and subtle jabs traded between rival teams. But today, something felt different. Toto wasn’t his usual commanding self. He wasn’t distracted by the numbers or even Christian Horner’s persistent prodding. No, his attention was elsewhere.

Her.

She was Ferrari’s newest addition, a sharp-minded engineer whose reputation for innovation had preceded her arrival. As she spoke, the room seemed to narrow, her words slicing through complex issues with ease. She didn’t just command respect, she demanded it. And Toto, much to his dismay, couldn’t look away.

—Wolff. —Horner’s voice broke through the discussion. —any thoughts?

Toto blinked, his focus snapping back. —It’s a solid plan. —he said quickly, his tone as measured as ever. But Lewis Hamilton, seated nearby, caught the faintest crack in his composure.

As the meeting ended and the attendees filed out, Lewis leaned in. —You good, boss? —he asked, his voice low. —You looked… distracted.

Toto straightened his tie, his expression impassive. —Focus on the race, Lewis.

But the day only got worse.

By mid-afternoon, the whispers had started.

—Did you see the way Wolff was watching her during the meeting?

—I’m telling you, he actually smiled. Toto Wolff smiled.

—Maybe he’s trying to poach her for Mercedes?

The rumors spread like wildfire, and Toto did little to dispel them. Every time he crossed paths with her, his usual cool demeanor seemed to falter. A second too long holding a door. A fleeting glance across the paddock. A barely-there smile when she passed by.

She noticed, of course. How could she not? She was sharp enough to catch the tension in his posture, the way his eyes lingered just a moment longer than necessary. And if she felt a twinge of satisfaction, she hid it well, burying it beneath a professional facade.

The real breaking point came during a rainy afternoon session. The rain had turned the pit lane into chaos. Engines roared, tires screeched, and mechanics scrambled to adapt. She was in the thick of it, crouched near the Ferrari garage with grease smudging her cheek as she adjusted a temperamental component.

Toto passed by, his stride slowing involuntarily. She looked up just as he did, their eyes locking for a split second. There it was again. That soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, the one that felt entirely out of place for someone as composed as him.

—Something caught your eye, Wolff? —Christian Horner’s voice interrupted, smug as ever. He was leaning against the Mercedes garage, arms crossed and a grin firmly in place.

Toto’s jaw tightened, his gaze flicking to Horner before he resumed walking. —Focus on your own team, Christian. —he said evenly, but the slight flush on his face didn’t go unnoticed.

Later that evening, the paddock had quieted, the storm outside matching the subdued atmosphere. She found herself alone in the Ferrari garage, organizing tools when she heard footsteps behind her.

—Toto. —she said without looking up, her voice tinged with amusement.

He froze, caught. —You’re very observant. —he admitted, stepping closer.

—I’d have to be, working in this world. —she replied, finally meeting his gaze. There was something playful in her eyes, a spark that set his nerves alight. —So, what can I do for you?

For a moment, he said nothing, his carefully constructed walls crumbling under the weight of her stare. Finally, he managed. —You’ve made quite an impression.

Her smile widened, slow and deliberate. —Have I? Because from what I hear, you’re the one making impressions, Toto.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The paddock had already done enough talking for both of them.

As he walked away, leaving her smirking in the quiet garage, Toto couldn’t shake the feeling that, for the first time in years, he was driving blind. And yet, he wasn’t sure he minded.