#toto is not allowed to play this game | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fxrmuladaydreams · 7 months

Text

lucky red bull driver (mv1)

max x reader , george x reader (platonic)

summary: george may have made a mistake when he introduced you to mercedes’ number one rival

notes: george is so dramatic in this, it’s great. i’ll probably write a part 2 to this

next part

This wasn’t supposed to happen. You’re sure there’s a clause somewhere in your contract that says you aren’t allowed to be doing what you’re doing, but you can’t help it.

Being hired as an assistant to Toto Wolff led you into the constant whirlwind of a life in Formula One. You’d gotten to learn a lot about the sport, and a lot about the Mercedes team.

Constantly being by the side of Toto Wolff had it’s perks. You got to travel the world, go to all of the Formula One races, meet and become close friends with Lewis Hamilton and George Russell. You were living the dream of many others.

Then he had to come in and ruin it. He ruined it with his pretty eyes, and his wide grin. He ruined it with his snarky comments, and soft praises. He was a hurricane storming in and you were trapped in the eye.

You could blame the whole thing on George, claim that it was his friendship to Max that had started your romantic endeavors with the Red Bull driver. Whenever Toto didn’t need your help, you were allowed to do whatever you liked, whether that be sightseeing or just relaxing. Recently though, you’d joined George on his paddle outings, which was where you had officially met Max.

George often played with some of the other drivers. Alex, Lando, and Max frequented the group. You had quickly become friends with the others, what with them being close in age to you, and their chaotic and amusing behavior when around one another.

This version of Max wasn’t the version you were used to seeing on the track. That version was serious, a scowl practically glued to his face. He’d gotten into verbal fights with some of the other drivers, George included. But this Max was different. He smiled a lot. He laughed when George and Alex would start bickering like an old married couple. He gave them all a pat on the back whether he won or lost the game.

It was during a game when you first spoke with the Dutch driver. He had tapped out, claiming he needed a break, and sent in someone else that had joined the group for the day. He sat on the bench next to you beside the court, watching the game unfold between the others.

He made quiet conversation with you, just about little things like how you were enjoying your job, your friendship with George. It had gotten to the point where you had stopped paying attention to the paddle game and gave Max your undivided attention.

That is, until a ball came hurtling towards you. You saw it out of the corner of your eye, lifting your arm up and turning your head away so that you wouldn’t get hit. But the ball never came in contact with your head, instead it hit Max’s paddle, which was being held up near your head.

“Watch where you hit the ball!” He shouted to the players on the court.

George looked sheepishly surprised as he jogged over to you. “Are you okay? I swear I didn’t mean to hit it to you-”

“At her. You hit it at her.” Max corrected him.

“I’m sorry Y/n.” George apologized again.

You shake your head. “It’s okay, I’m okay.”

You take a walk with Max afterwards, looking to avoid anymore rouge paddle balls. The two of you refuse to talk about anything that has to do with Mercedes or Red Bull while you walk, knowing that if you did you’d be in serious trouble with your bosses. Instead you talk about your childhoods, about how the two of you actually started your careers in Formula One, and about things that interested you outside of the sport.

You were surprised to hear Max say that he didn’t really excel in any other activities. You were shocked that the three time world champion, the man who was at the top of his sport, admitted that driving was really all he was good at.

You laugh and shake your head as you return to the court. “I don’t believe that for a minute Max.”

“It’s true! Put me in a pool and I’ll drown. On a football field and I’ll fall on my ass more times than you can count.” He grins as you laugh.

“Y/n, ready to head back to the hotel?” George asks making his way over to the two of you. His eyes travel back and forth between you, watching as you’re standing so close to one another that your arms brush against each other.

You clear your throat and take a step away from Max, your eyes refusing to meet George’s. “Yeah, sure.” You turn back to Max. “It was nice talking with you.”

“You too. I hope we can do it again sometime.” He gives you a smile, then leaves you to join Lando.

When you look back at George he’s got his eyebrows raised as if waiting for you to say something. You don’t give him the satisfaction, instead walking back to his car.

You get in the passenger seat of his car silently as he throws his equipment in the backseat. When he gets into the drivers seat he sits quietly for a moment then breaks the silence with a slew of questions.

“Alright, what happened? What is going on with you and Max? Did you tell him anything about Mercedes? Did he tell you anything about Red Bull? Why does he want to see you again?”

You stop the waterfall of questions with a hand on his shoulder.

“We just took a walk. No, neither of us said anything about our teams. And I don’t know George, maybe he wants to see me again because he enjoyed my company.” You last sentence is laced with sarcasm.

George rolls his eyes. “Yes Y/n, you’re an absolute delight. You know Toto will have a conniption if he finds out you’re buddies with Max Verstappen.”

“Well we’re not, so there’s no reason to worry.” You shrug.

You like to believe you kept that up for a while, attempting to avoid the Red Bull areas of the paddock, and running the opposite direction when you saw the navy blue team kit headed your way, but it didn’t take long for you to give into the tugging feeling in your chest whenever you saw him.

Avoiding him turned into brief greetings when passing each other, which turned into longer conversations with each other, which turned into seeking the other out while at work.

There’s no denying what’s going on at this point. Race weekends consist of you sneaking into his hotel room to see him, sharing meals together, and falling asleep wrapped around each other in his bed.

You hide in empty corners and walkways to see each other, sharing rushed kisses and hushed words of affection.

If anyone saw you, with his blue polo, and your white one, chaos would ensue. That’s exactly what happened when you were caught. You were pressed between a wall and his body, your arms wrapped around his neck as his held onto your hips. One of your hands reaches up to tangle itself in his hair, knocking his cap off his head onto the ground.

Even though you’re quite literally wrapped up in him, you still manage to stay aware of your surroundings, listening for anyone who might pass by the dark walkway you currently occupy.

“No one is going to find us liefje.” Max murmurs against your lips. “You don’t need to worry your pretty little head.” He teases you as his kisses start to trail down your neck.

His teeth scrape against your pulse point, causing a light gasp to escape you. You can feel Max smirking into your neck.

“And what if someone does find us? And they see me making out with a Red Bull driver? What will they say?” You lean your head back against the wall behind you.

“Lucky Red Bull driver?” He grins as he pulls away from your neck.

You scoff and hit his chest with your hand. He lets out a loud laugh, slightly stumbling back. You grab onto his shoulder pulling him back towards you and place a finger over his lips.

“Max! You need to be quiet!” You whisper to him.

He leans his forehead against yours as your hand drops from his lips. He looks down at your lips then back up into your eyes.

“I know how you can keep me quiet.” He dives back down to your lips and pressing you into the wall again.

In that moment you’re so consumed by him, by his kisses that become more and more heated, by his tongue that slips into your mouth, by his hands that keep a firm grip on your hips, that you fail to notice the sound of someone approaching.

“Oh god!” A voice rings out.

You’re quick to push the Dutch driver off of you, looking towards where the voice had come from.

George stands about three meters away from you, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth hanging open. His eyes go back and forth between you and Max, who stands next to you, running a hand through his hair.

It’s almost as if the three of you are having a stare down. You’re all searching for the right words to say, but no one can find them.

You take a slow step towards George with a hand lifted in front of you, almost like you’re trying not to scare off an animal.

“George-” you start softly, but that’s all it takes for an endless stream of words to come flowing for the Brit’s mouth.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! You and him?” He points accusingly at Max. “Fucking Max Verstappen? Do you know how bad this is? Toto’s going to kill you!” He points at you now. “He’s going to kill you, then he’s going to kill you!” He points at Max again. “Then he’s going to kill me!” He arm drops back down. “Oh god, we’re all dead!”

You take a few quick steps to stand in front of George, placing your hands on his arms. “No, no one’s going to die, because Toto isn’t going to find out.”

“Because if you tell him I will push you off track.” Max says.

You turn to give him a stern look, then look back at George.

“George, you can’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

“Y/n…” he groans.

“Please George, please don’t tell anyone.” You beg him.

He glances back at Max who’s picked up his hat from the ground and now adjusts it back on his head.

“You really like him? Like you two are together?” George asks looking back at you.

“I mean…” You turn to face Max. You were far too busy sneaking around to actually put a label on what you were.

Max shrugs. “She’s my girlfriend.”

George sighs shaking his head. “Why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t you have just dated Lando? Or Charles?”

“Because I like Max, not Lando, and not Charles. Besides, you’re the one who introduced us.”

George groans covering his face with his hands. “I’m dead. I’m gonna be out of a job and dead.”

Not much changes after George finds out. It’s difficult to get him to keep his cool at first, but quickly adjusts to keeping this secret hidden away.

To others he seems closer to Max, the pair occasionally walking together, talking to each other in hushed tones. What was once just an acquaintanceship has seemingly turned into a close friendship.

George, only after being what some may call threatened by Max, now helps you sneak around with the Red Bull driver. He makes up excuses as to why Toto can’t find you while you’re in Max’s driver’s room. He offers to roadtrip with you from track to track so that you can travel with Max.

Everything goes smoothly for a while, until a few photos circulate Twitter.

You and Max were very careful about where you met up. It was usually somewhere secluded, somewhere that others wouldn’t find you or wouldn’t be able to see you.

You really enjoyed being with Max, but the hiding was starting to take a toll on the both of you. You wanted to be able to walk into the paddock hand in hand, and he wanted to be able to sweep you into his arms after winning a race.

It was nearing the day that would mark 4 months with each other, so Max had begged you to do something special. He just wanted to take you out. He promised he would make sure that everything was quiet and no one would catch you.

After reluctantly agreeing Max had called up your favorite restaurant. He paid to make sure the two of you would be the only ones dining there, and that you would have access to any back doors to get in and out.

Surprisingly dinner went off without a hitch. The restaurant was empty when you arrived, allowing you and Max to have a quiet romantic evening with each other somewhere other than between the walls of either of your apartments. You spent the nights smiling and laughing with each other, occasionally stealing food off the other’s plate.

You left the restaurant and headed back to his apartment with your takeout boxes. You spent the night there with Max, cuddled up into his chest as you let sleep overtake you.

The next morning you woke up still pressed against Max. Usually he would stay in bed, stroking your back or your hair softly until you woke up, but now he was sitting up looking at his phone.

His eyebrows were furrowed and a scowl rested on his face.

“What? What’s wrong?” You ask, slowly sitting up.

“I’m sorry liefje…” He hands his phone to you.

He’s got Twitter open, and on it are a few photos. There’s one of you smiling up at Max. You can’t really tell that it’s Max, just a guy in a white shirt. Then one of you kissing the same guy. Then the last is one where you can clearly see Max, his face now turned towards the camera.

Someone took these photos as you were leaving the restaurant. Clearly someone had informed paparazzi that you would be there, sneaking in and out together.

You can feel your heartbeat speed up in your chest. You give Max his phone back and reach over for yours.

You’ve also got a slew of Twitter notifications, as well as a few texts from George.

Are you alright?

I don’t know how the hell that happened.

I’m here if you need me. Either of you.

You sigh and run a hand through your hair. You can feel tears start to well up in your eyes, already picturing what’s going to happen next. You could lose your job, you could be forced to end your relationship with Max, you could be sued for potentially giving Red Bull classified information.

Max sees your eyes become glassy and immediately pulls you into his arms.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Y/n.” He lets you cry into his chest. “It’s okay. We’re gonna be okay. I promise.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

Once you’ve finally got your breathing back to normal you slowly pull away from Max. He gives you a soft smile, then softly kisses you. He kisses you once, then twice, then a third time, until you finally return a smile to him.

You lay with him quietly for a few minutes until you hear you phone buzz.

Your screen lights up with a text notification from Toto.

We need to talk. Thursday, 4 o’clock, my office. Bring Verstappen.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #formula one x reader #formula one #mv33 x reader #mv33

1K notes · View notes

fangirl-dot-com · 2 months

Text

Incorrect Quotes - Part 2

All of these were taken from Pinterest - again, I am not this funny

Special thank you to @sinfully-yoursss for asking for another one!

Max: Do you ever do anything except whine like a little bitch? Y/n: Sometimes I whine like a BIG bitch

Arthur (propping his feet up on a table): So, I heard you like bad boys Y/n: What? No??? Arthur (immediately taking his feet off the table): Oh thank God, that felt terrible

Christian: Where’s Y/n and the child? Toto: Y/n is teaching him how to drive Christian: Y/n never learned to drive??????

*Meanwhile*

Y/n: So there’s two pedals. Sometimes three but you can ignore the left one Kimi: I don’t think…. Y/n: the lines on the road are more like suggestions than anything, like the speed limit Kimi: Are you positive that… Y/n: I’m not sure how to turn on the blinkers. Ready? Kimi: Uhhhhh Y/n (shouting): GO GO GO GO Kimi (screaming) *floors it*

Nurse: I’m sorry sir, we can only allow family to see Miss L/n at this time Christian: bold of you to assume I won’t legally adopt her right now Y/n (sleepy, inside the hospital wing): you tell ‘em dad!

Max: Your honor, my client is ready Judge: And what does the defendant plead? Max (mouthing the words): not guilty Y/n (squinting at Max): hot milky Max (facepalms): take her away

Y/n: Deck the halls with crippling depression Charles: Fa la la la la, la la la la Y/n: ‘Tis the season for emotional suppression Arthur: Fa la la la la, la la la la Max (passing through): what???

Y/n (on the phone): Hey Lance, can Arthur and I borrow $5000? Lance: Why the hell do you need $5000?! Y/n: For an escape room. Lance: What kind of escape room costs 5 grand?? Y/n: Y/n: Jail.

Max (answers phone): hello? Y/n: It’s Y/n Max: What did she do this time Y/n: no, it’s me, Max Max: what did you do this time

Y/n (on the floor): Go on…without me! Lando (crying while kneeling beside her): No! We can get through this together, just like we always do! Y/n: There’s no time! You must defend our honor. Don’t let my death be for nothing! Lando (sobbing): I can’t do this without you! Y/n: Goodbye, old friend….(goes limp) Oscar (whispering to Max): They do realize this is just a dodgeball game, right? Max (aiming at Lando): Oscar, this is war. Show no mercy.

Oscar: One day, someone will think about you for the last time in eternity. You will be forgotten by the world Y/n: not if I eat the Mona Lisa

Yuki: I’m small but knowing Y/n: You don’t be knowing what the top shelf looks like Yuki: Y/n: Yuki: Bitch

Y/n: Go big or go home! Vito (tears in his eyes): I am begging you, Y/n. For once in your life, go home. Just this once. Go. Home. Y/n: I’m gonna go big

Y/n: I will do a lot of thing. But admitting I’m cold to Max after he told me to bring a jacket isn’t one of them

Max: I sleep with a knife beside my bed Carlos: I have a machete under my bed Logan: I have a gun under my pillow Arthur: Weak. Pathetic. All of you Max: And what deadly weapon do you sleep with? Arthur (putting on shades): Y/n

Arthur: I will speak French between your legs Y/n: That is the hottest thing I’ve ever been told Lando: I’m just imagining someone screaming “Bonjour” to a dick Daniel: SACRE BLEAU MADEMOISELLE HON HON HON TITTY CROISSANTS Logan (wheezing): TITTY CROISANTS Max: None of you should ever be having sex

Y/n: Hey do you know anyone who can teach me how to play the trumpet? Alex: Why? Y/n: I wanna wander around the paddock and annoy Esteban Logan: Technically, you don’t actually need to know how to play it for that Y/n: You have opened my eyes Logan

Max (not looking up from his book): what did he do now? Y/n: HE SMILED Max: At you? Y/n: No, at Oscar and Ollie but HE LOOKS LIKE AN ANGEL Max: go away Y/n: shut up, I watched you pine over Charles for months – let me have this Max: carry on

Arthur: I came up with a brilliant idea for a prank Y/n: Ooh, what is it? Arthur: We should kiss. Y/n: …I don’t get it Arthur: Think about it! Imagine Max and Charles come into the garage, only to find us making out, hands all over each other. You can sit in my lap and we’ll really just go to town. Max will be like “WHAAAAAAA” and Charles might even faint! Y/n: Oh, that’s hilarious! We totally should

Esteban: The math problem isn’t so hard, it’s just a simple repetition of- Y/n (frustrated): You’re a simple repetition Esteban: Y/n: Charles: Did Y/n really just hurt Esteban’s feelings Max: I’m so freakin proud

Y/n (googling): snake bite leg what to do Google: elevate and apply pressure Y/n (lifting the snake really high): apologize or else

Y/n: with all due respect Y/n: Y/n: which is none

Toto: If you took a shot for every time you made a bad decision, how drunk would you be? Kimi: Maybe a little tipsy? George: Drunk. Y/n: Wasted. Lewis: Dead.

Esteban: Could you at least try to be nice? Y/n: You’re still breathing. That’s me being nice.

Oscar: Hey do you have a bag I can borrow? Zhou: The only bags I have are the ones under my eyes, and they’re specifically designed to carry the burden of my existence Oscar: Literally all you had to do was say no

Max (at Y/n’s funeral): Can I have a moment alone with her? Arthur: Of course *leaves* Max (leaning over the coffin): Now listen, I know you’re not dead Y/n: no duh

Y/n: Ow! Oscar: You dislocated your shoulder. Want me to pop it back in? Y/n (grimacing): Yeah…okay Oscar: All right, on 3….0, 1 *pops shoulder back in* Y/n: MOTHERFU- WHO THE HELL STARTS AT 0

Yuki: Hey Y/n, did you eat all the powdered donuts? Y/n: …No? Yuki: Then what’s that white powder on your pants Y/n (panicking): cocaine

Y/n: Max, I think you should play the role of my father Max: I don’t want to be your father Y/n: That’s perfect. You already know your lines

Lando: Can I be frank with you guys? Y/n: I don’t know how changing your name is going to help us here, but sure? Charles: Wait, can I still be Charles? Oscar: Shh, let Frank speak.

Lewis: I have a bad feeling about this. Y/n: What do you mean? Lewis: Don’t you ever have that little voice in your head that tells you if something is going to get you in trouble? Y/n: no Lewis: That explains so much

Y/n: What do you call a fish with no eye (i)? Oscar (not looking up from his book): myxine circifrons Y/n: Y/n: fsh

George: Do you have any skeletons in your closet? Y/n: Figuratively or literally? George: Y/n, honestly, the fact that I have to specify

Mitch: I know you took the last Red Bull Y/n Y/n (internally): play dumb Y/n: Who’s Y/n? Y/n (internally): not that dumb!

Y/n: Big mood Fernando: What does that mean…big mood? Y/n: Uh well, it kind of means like, me too, I guess Fernando: Thanks

*1 week later before a race in the rain*

Oscar: I’m kind of worried about this race guys Fernando: Big mood, Piastri, big mood Oscar: Y/n what did you do?

Charles: What’s worse than a DNF at a home race? Y/n: realizing that dragons can’t blow out their birthday candles Charles: Charles: mate

Y/n: You know what? Underneath it all, you’re actually quite nice Max: Repeat that disgusting slander and you’ll be hearing from my lawyers

Carlos: Now that I have explained the answer to this problem to you for ten minutes, do you understand? Y/n: Yes. Carlos:…Are you lying to me? Y/n: Yes.

Christian: Y/n, it’s your turn to give the pre-race talk Y/n (claps hands): Fuck shit up, hit some barriers, run Charles off the road, don’t die Max (proudly): succinct and informative

Max: The FIA really seems to hate us Charles: Maybe they’re homophobic Max: We’re not a couple Charles Charles: We’re not Y/n: You’re not?

Vito: Why is Y/n in the bathroom on the floor crying? Max: She’s drunk Vito: And? Mitch: She heard that Arthur has a girlfriend Vito:…but she is Arthur’s girlfriend Max: Yeah, we know that

Max (wears lighter skinny jeans and a brighter blue Red Bull polo) Y/n: I see you’re busting out the spring colors

Oscar: How do you two normally get out of these types of messes? Lando: We don’t. Y/n: We just make a bigger mess that cancels out the first one

*Valentines Day*

Arthur (reading Y/n’s texts): Y/n just said she’s going to give me 102 minutes of pleasure tonight Max: Oh wow

*Later watching Cars 2*

Y/n: You look disappointed

Y/n: Chillax! Oscar: that’s not a word Y/n: Sometimes the ones who deny “chillax” are the ones who need to chillax the most

Y/n: You know, water is pretty crazy. It can boil you to death, freeze you to death, drown you, or spin your car out of control, throw you into the barriers and kill you. But you still need it to survive Max: Y/n, I love you, but its 3 AM

Christian: Y/n, a word. Y/n: BALLOON

Max: I have the sharpest memory! Name one time I forgot something Y/n: You left Charles in a Walmart like three weeks ago Max: I did that on purpose, try again

Vito: Y/n isn’t answering her phone Arthur: I’ll call Vito: Max and I have both tried, along with everyone else on the grid. What make you think she’ll answer? *Calls her anyway* Y/n: Hello?

Y/n: Oi, where’s your boyfriend? Max: Who? Y/n: Charles, where is he? Max: He’s not my boyfriend Y/n: Have you told him that?

Fan: Max, what motivates you? Max: My ambition and desire to push forward no matter what Fan: Y/n, what about you? Y/n: An unhealthy mix of spite, pettiness, the thirst for vengeance, and pure, relentless rage. That and a Red Bull in the morning

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @fly-me-away @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @33-81 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri

1K notes · View notes

totothewolff · 7 months

Text

Season of Love (1/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal, romance, comedy, and some good drama.

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you tell Toto: "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That's the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong? Author's note: Hi, fam! I'm nervous since this is my very first fanfic. I have been following this tag for a while now, and I got so inspired by all the talent here that I went and wrote my own story. Please be kind to me. English is my second language. I will upload chapters regularly - using this hashtag and on #seasonoflovefic. I have been dealing with anxiety the entire year; writing this has been part of my healing process. I hope you like it. By the way, this story is fun and light-spirited.

< Masterlist | Next chapter >

Dances with Wolff Arc Chapter 1: Engines on and hearts off!

Bahrain

It is a hot and sunny day in Bahrain. Golden hour is set, and every single person in the paddock seems to be in a rush. It is the usual chaos every pre-season brings.

Toto makes his way through the sea of people, cables, tire carts, and cameras at his regular pace - which means those toned and long legs going full speed - rocking this year's Mercedes kit and a new pair of designer sunglasses, phone in hand when it buzzes.

—Breaking news: After lengthy negotiations during the break, the De Vos Group acquired Williams Racing - as speculated. New female owner Y/N De Vos will be joining the paddock this season. The team's principal will soon be announced. Check our exclusive first look with her.

Toto reads on his iPhone after tapping the Sky Sports push notification, slowing his pace a second. He raises an eyebrow and gazes around, noticing many people in the packed pitlane doing the same, slowing the frenzy on the floor for a close bit.

He reaches out for his pockets and puts on the Bose earbuds before hitting the play button. Curiosity is overpowering him - and, honestly, excitement, too - as he looks at the preview thumbnail. A stunning, tan-skinned woman with great, shiny hair and a beautiful smile appears in front of the microphone with a smug smirk.

—God, she's gorgeous —Toto lets out to himself. Continuing his way to the Mercedes garage. This year, it is located one spot before Williams and following Ferrari's.

Finally, something exciting, someone new. After years of dominating the game, trying not to sound too egomaniac, every season starts to feel like routine to him. Toto is hitting a personal low, avoiding calling it what it is: depression mixed with boredom, especially this season and at this moment in his life. Same old tracks, same old challenges, same old people, same old ways, same old Toto.

You answer the interviewer's questions with ease. You are very well-spoken in his eyes like you are used to doing press or public speaking, and you have a cheeky sense of humor. Toto gets captivated, to say the least. He puts his phone into his back pocket and continues walking while listening to your interview, muffling the paddock's noise.

You have a soft voice, a professional speech pattern, and excellent enunciation, reinforcing Toto's idea of you being trained at it. He detects some accent but can't figure out where it is from. He listens to the whole thing; it's impossible for him not to sigh at the stupid questions they ask you a couple of times. The more Toto listens, the more questions he has for you in his mind. He may get them answers later when he finally meets you.

So far, you seem like a breeze of fresh air, and Toto is desperate to breathe you.

And yeah, no question Williams looks different. Toto, as usual, ventures to inspect more than he should - and is allowed to - taking a good peek at your brand-new garage. Knowing quite well, he also is hoping to spot you in person.

The garage looks tech and minimalistic, matching your new modern W logo. Whites, blacks, and touches of grey colors predominated. The lighting, screens, and interior design look so futuristic, expensive, and dope; it's a whole vibe. It is a sexy garage! A phrase he never imagined using. What F1 has done to a man?

Toto can feel the desperate modernity Williams once needed and the resources. Of course, he knew firsthand the Williams family was looking to sell after years of struggling to win races and its economics. Toto remained neutral throughout the process, informed but not too involved. He had felt a little indifferent about the entire ordeal till now.

He hopes not to sound insensitive. Of course, he has a special place in his heart for that team and its people, he first started there, but the businessman side of him knows it is the right call and best for them. Of course, it's sad, but that is the game: evolve or die.

He knows his investment is in good hands because last he had heard, and in Niki's words, it got acquired by a Belgian zillionaire, and Niki reassured him it was a perfect choice. He was respectable and trustworthy, and Toto didn't need to know more. But this sudden change - and announcement - took him a bit by surprise. Little did he know.

Gossip and theories fill the paddock. Supporters and haters - already - are all over social media, typing divided opinions as usual. It is the talk of the town, and you, you are the center of it at this point; there is more to come.

Toto greets his team on his way to his chair, already inside Merc's garage after doing his little on-site research. A couple of pats on the back and hugs later, he makes himself comfortable in his spot while catching up with Bono.

Just as Toto is about to place the headphones on his head, the corner of his eyes caught Samanta, better known as "Sam" - a beautiful, thin, young, pale-skin, platinum blondie - Niki's assistant, hugging you goodbye and walking towards him.

You wave Niki hello from afar and on your way to the W garage.

For the briefest moment, Toto's eyes and yours met. You are more petite than he expects. And you dress very classy and minimal but with a sexy touch. You match the new identity of Williams, or well, Williams matches your style. The Jacquemus "La robe saudade" dress you wear hugs your curves, accentuating your beautiful toned legs and great ass. He couldn't avoid staring you down as you walked past. Sometimes, he was just a simple man.

Toto suddenly feels the Arabic heat rushing through his body.

—Getting up close with the enemy, tearing down its walls, I like your style, evil as I would expect from you —he says to Sam, now next to him, as she takes off her access badge and picks up her tablet from a drawer.

—Bok, dumb. No bad blood! Just a friendly welcome to this testosterone hell, you know, girls being supportive of one another. I'm pretty sure you will like her, and judging by that look you just gave her, I guess you already.

—Začepi, dumber —Toto answers in his usual authoritarian and collected deep voice, but jokingly. He feels his cheeks turning red. —Spill how, when…

—We were roomies a long time ago. I adore her, she's great, strong, intelligent, kind, fun, and so damn hot. That's all you need to know for now, and that's all I'm telling you.

Sam is the youngest daughter of the Dobrev heirs, a very wealthy and old-money Croatian - almost royal - family who owns multiple fleets and half the country, like filthy rich. They are famous for being all platinum blondes, having many scandals, and investing in motor and water sports. They are one of the main Mercedes-AMG sponsors.

As far as Toto knows, Sam doesn't have the best relationship with her family and dislikes talking about it, but he knows she cares a lot about her elder brother, to whom Toto hears her speak on the phone now and then.

After years and years of working and traveling the world together, Sam lets her walls down with Toto, becoming great friends and this sort of family away from family, although she remains pretty reserved on some subjects. He loves her like a little sister. She is pretty younger than him and sometimes reminds him of his own sister. Niki always describes them two as his annoying children, always teasing and bickering at each other when possible. The old man cares so much for them personally and at work, and they do, too.

Toto wonders if by "old roomie" she means ex-girlfriend? He has met some of Samanta's "roomies," and… Toto doesn't feel like pushing. He wonders if you may have someone... You know... As team principal, he has to learn about other teams' dynamics, right?

He tosses the thought off and gets in the zone. They have another title to win.

You hug Samanta goodbye and take a glance at the Merc garage. Sam is family to you, and you heard so much about them and F1 over the years, ever since she moved out of the Manor after having that massive fight with her parents and started working for Mercedes-AMG, swearing to make a living of her own and never needing them EVER again, a bit over dramatic reaction but that who Sam is and you love her that way.

She is also your bestie; you two text each other daily. Thanks to her, you knew everything about everyone in the paddock: the good and bad, scandals, and more. Yet they knew nothing about you. For them, you are brand new and the perfect excuse to gossip about.

And there he is, Torger Christian Wolff, the guy Sam couldn't stop gushing you about. Damn, she is right, Toto is gorgeous. You would feel slightly jealous of their closeness if he wasn't Sam's cup of tea. But you can't get distracted; you have a purpose for being there, and nothing will get in the middle. Even if you are dying to meet him, even if you treasure every detail you know about Toto, even if you have been fantasizing about him for the longest time, not to mention being half in love with the man already or the idea of him. Sam made him sound like such a remarkable and caring human being.

Niki waves hello to you from afar, and you wave back. You adore that old man. He is one of the reasons why the Williams family agreed to sell you the team. Without his support, it wouldn't have been possible.

You met Niki two winters ago; thanks to Sam, you explained to him your motives and why you wanted to buy a team, and he fully agreed to support you and mentor you throughout the whole process. He is a badass and one of the kindest people you have ever met. You immediately felt embraced by the Laudas. Along with Sam, they are among the very few people who know your entire story and genuinely know you, the real you.

Back to the present day. You feel Toto's dark eyes set on you and can't resist ignoring them even if your life depends on it, so you look back at him. For the briefest moment, your eyes met. The desert is too hot, isn't it? Uff, what's going on with this heat? Damn you global warming!

So you better hurry yourself away before it is too late and you dare to get closer to him. You reach your new team's garage at the speed of light, so it is fittable for the place you are at. It feels weird saying "your" so much.

Everything is so different from the world you are used to, but you don't feel nervous. You are a woman on a mission, and after all you have gone through in life, you are not that kind of girl. You bear a challenge.

You greet your team. —He hasn't arrived yet? —you ask the aero performance engineer while he is placing green and yellow dots on the left side of the new car. You reached close to inspect the latest upgrades.

The car is beautiful, matte black with a powerful Lamborghini engine. They are your main sponsor and partner and the only one, which is insanely impressive. No million logos, no visual noise - it is something to see due to F1 budgets.

Commotion and gasps come from the outside. While you ask the engineer that question, a frenzy starts in the front of the garages. You watch camerapersons and fans pass by, running crazy. Total mayhem.

Oh, there he is.

Toto's phone buzzes again - in the middle of that circus - "Breaking news; The legend is BACK. Michael Schumacher joins Williams as Team Principal, son Mick Schumacher, and the sensation of the moment, female driver Millie Dobrev joins him along as drivers."

The FIA, in its many attempts to be perceived as "forward" or "woke," has allowed for the first time mixed-gender racing, starting this season - about damn time! Millie is one of the top female drivers and the youngest, achieving a lot at a young age and becoming a serious threat to everyone on her way.

—Dobrev… Dobrev?! —Toto looks from the photo on his phone screen to Sam and back; a very young petite girl - with sun-kissed skin, short platinum blonde hair with pink ends and clear blue eyes, a round face with delicate features - poses in a pastel color outfit doing a Korean heart gesture with her hands, fingers full of expensive jewelry. —Care to explain?

—Yes, did I mention she's my dear niece? —Sam answers, deadpan.

—The fuck —Toto says —Are all blond Croatians your family? —Toto teases.

—Hilariously accurate —she laughs it off.

—Your niece?! You are like twelve, how old is she, two!? Can't believe you are an aunt already. I don't know what to do with that fact..."

Samanta rolls her eyes. "Thank my gross old uncle with a young trophy wife?" she thinks.

—So you keep secrets from me, huh? I thought ours was special.

—You give yourself too much importance. And yes, that's why my hair grew bigger during the break. It's full of secrets! —Sam replies. Swinging her long, straight locks.

—What??? —Toto doesn't get her Mean Girls reference.

—Sometimes I forget you are prehistoric, almost fossil.

They both fulminate each other with gazes in a classic and frequent stare-down. Then Sam proceeds to cross tasks on her tablet, slowly stepping away.

—Don't you dare run away from me! You have things to explain, missy.

—Sorry, I'm so busy right now, unlike you.

—I'm busy.

—No, you are not; you are trying to gossip!

—I'm always busy. I'm this team's principal, to remind you, so yes, I'm important, and maybe… maybe… I'm trying to gossip… a little bit —Toto gestures with his hand.

—Could you two stop?! —Niki calls it quits, half annoyed, half laughing, struggling to hear clearly what the tactics team is trying to tell him, turning around on his barstool and waving his hand at them.

Toto and Sam laugh softly, and Toto makes a small O with his mouth while Sam pretends to adjust her invisible tie before returning to business and being professional people doing professional tasks.

Toto looks once more at his phone screen. —Impressive —it's all he lets out. Toto can't wait. He can't wait.

It's been a long time since Michael set foot on the paddock, after years of being retired and living almost exclusively to recover - after his infamous accident - and trying to enjoy being a father and a husband when possible. He became this mythical figure that existed in F1 and people's minds but is nowhere to be seen, making him feel like a ghost. Nowadays, he is doing way better but was getting bored of being a recluse at home waiting for the right moment, for that one sign that make it all start over for him.

And there she is, in front of him, doing a fake courtesy.

—Welcome back, Kaiser —you joke with him.

—Hi, boss! —Michael greets you with a thick German accent and sweet voice. —Sorry about that! —He pushes you aside as a photographer flashes photos. The lens almost hits you in the face while two other cameramen bump into each other. —Better if we go inside. There's lots to talk about and to get ready to start testing. This is bonkers! —he finishes saying, looking at the circus surrounding you two.

—Okay. Let's go then, Schumi —you reply to him.

You feel ready.

The testing goes out smoothly for Mercedes. There are just a few sensor improvements and small details to fix, but only a little to worry about. Lewis and George seem happy with their car's performance, and the team feels optimistic.

As for Toto, his day was stressful; he felt exhausted after many meetings and people asking him questions all day, demanding his attention at all times. The hours went at an alarming speed. Somehow, the day is done, but the amount of work has just started. He blinks and is dark already, and the chauffeur is now driving him to his suite in a high-end hotel.

Tomorrow is a crucial day for the team, and his schedule is full of press, too. So he needs a good night of beauty sleep; at the moment, he looks like trash and feels like it. Toto likes to keep it real. He loves the attention of being under the reflectors and calling the shots but still isn't a massive fan of media day.

Speaking of the devil, he takes out his phone and opens his news app. Toto relaxes in the big luxury car seat. He has bookmarked several sites that cover F1, his long, unhealthy habit. He likes to stay current, even if he has "briefing" and a person in charge of doing that.

Even though he doesn't want to feel like a stalker, he pretty much is acting like it. Toto refreshes the app to read the latest news about Williams and you. He learns all he can of you from the newly released press articles; there is little about your background, past, or in general; all he keeps reading appears to be PR-approved since it is constantly reprised on different platforms, which feels weird.

Google doesn't offer him much either, just a couple of articles with photos in which you appear in various charity events related to children's foundations. It is like you don't exist online.

Toto reads your most recent interview and Michael's, and you both appear in good spirits about your car performance. He hates losing but loves a good challenge. A good old-fashioned on-track battle. For a change.

The bellboy opens the suite's double doors for him and carries Toto's things inside. It is a massive entrance and makes him feel tiny in comparison. Toto notices a small LV suitcase in front of the large door, next to a big antique wooden carved table, in the middle of the foyer under the soft dim coming from a stunning Tiffany's chandelier, which lits the room and reflects on the exquisite tile walls. The Arabic architecture and interior design of the place are breathtaking.

It means Susie has stopped by. Their relationship is in a weird spot, in one of those hiccups they face occasionally after dating forever and from a very young age. Their relationship at the moment feels monotonous, and love is lacking, which is slowly killing him. He still loves her very much but could sense he is losing her. Especially since they started seeing each other less and less - although he wouldn't blame anyone who has to bear with his crazy schedule - they almost stopped texting and talking to each other, too, and sex is nonexistent. So many red flags.

—Hi, schatzi —Toto greets her.

—Hi, Toto —she gives him a quick kiss. —You look tired.

—I am, but I'm happy you are here —he says, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his temple on hers. Soon after, he lifts Sussie from the ground into a tight hug. There is a clear height difference.

—I know. I'm happy to see you too, even if it's for a brief moment. I was hoping you got free sooner. Our jet has permission to take off in an hour exactly.

—I'm sorry, today was crazy —Toto apologizes.

—I can imagine. I tried to communicate with you earlier, but it was impossible to reach you; it was almost like you were avoiding me.

God, she knows him so well. Yes, he has been avoiding her - although not today, he honestly had a crazy day - but since they had that awkward and hurtful conversation at their New Year's Eve reception at their house in Oxford. Not because he is angry at her or scared, he misses her a lot. It's just he has been unable to decide and come up with an answer to the situation.

—I wanted to clear things out between us before the start of the season. I'm aware that from now on, you only get busier and more challenging to reach, and my schedule this year is also insane, Sussie says.

—Yes, love. Tell me what you need?

—Your thoughts.

—On what? —Toto pretends to be confused and not get what she is referring to.

—Come on, Torger. Would you like me to remind you of our last conversation at New Year's?

Silence.

The last time they saw each other in person was months ago. He panicked after that conversation and left for Austria, calling it a business trip and a visit to his sister to spend time with his nephews. She didn't follow him around. Because it was clear he was running away and needed time alone without her.

—So... as I mentioned to you that night... You wanted to try for children this year, and I let you know I didn't see that happening this year or any year. And that I have been feeling increasingly lonely since you spent most of your days away. Honestly, every day, we spend more time away from each other. My career keeps taking off, and I'm not raising children on my own amidst it! I can't even imagine the idea of being pregnant to start with! Plus, you said there's no way you are quitting your job, and I'm neither, so...

—I didn't say that. That's not how it went —Toto feels his head hurting now. He rubs his forehead, exasperated hearing Sussie's Director's Cut version of the events. "It went more like this: I don't get your full attention at all times like before, I'm not able to control you as I once did, and every time you ask me to spend time together, me traveling to you or you traveling to me, if it's not the way I want it I always come up with something to avoid it. Plus, I never mentioned to you before that I didn't want children, not once in the thousand times we discussed family and raising kids together, ah! And I always blame your job as the reason why things aren't working between us." That's how it happened, Toto thinks.

—The point is... —Sussie ignores him. Throwing him a look. —We didn't reach a middle ground but chose not to break things off immediately because none of us felt sure.

There is a pause and a big exhale from her.

—That's why I suggested exploring having an open relationship. We would establish rules and limits. I know you are more traditional and don't envision this for us, but I wanted you to think about it and give it a chance, not to run away and avoid me after suggesting it. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to be with someone else behind your back because I still love you, and I want us to work. I feel we both need someone who is present in our lives to touch us and hold us when we feel like it.

Toto feels crushed. All he wants is to settle down, start a family, and become a good father - as his father was to him - he never expected Sussie to go in the opposite direction. His intention has never been to make her choose between a career or kids. This isn't the case. It is going to be a two-person job. Besides that, they have all the privileges, resources, and support to successfully achieve being both parents and having careers simultaneously. —This isn't the right moment for this conversation. I had an...

—It's never the right moment for you! Christ's sake, Toto! I..! —Sussie starts losing it and gets emotional. He can't avoid feeling miserable. Suddenly, Toto felt the day's weight on his shoulders and back, which was killing him now; he needed a soft mattress to lay down so desperately. He doesn't want to make the drama bigger.

—Okay, easy, love —he hugs her. —I will think about it and give you an answer this week.

—You promise? Won't you run away from it anymore?

—I promise. I won't.

—This week, Toto! —Sussie wipes her tears, hugs him once more, and kisses him goodbye. —Let me know.

—Yes, this week. I will.

She grabs her suitcase and exits through the doors. Toto drags himself to bed with the remains of his energy, tosses his phone on the wireless charger nightstand, and lets himself drop on the mattress, face down. As he drifts away, a new notification red dot appears in the news app.

Now, an open relationship looks like an acceptable idea.

He falls asleep.

The view from your suite is impressive. Bahrain's entire skyline of modern skyscrapers is lit under the night skies, and the desert surrounding it looks beautiful through the floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows.

It isn't your first time in Western Asia, but your first time traveling so far from home on your own. This hotel is insanely expensive, and the suite is humongous for you by yourself. If you weren't so used to inhabiting a massive, almost empty Manor with you as your own company, you would have felt anxious in such an isolated, huge, and quiet space.

It is already late at night to text Samanta and meet her to chat. You both have work tomorrow and need to rest. But you have so much to catch up on - since yesterday? - No, but seriously, a lot had happened during your first day at the paddock.

As you are relaxing in the bathtub - you chose a bath bomb made of sea salt soap and local herbs with delicious scents - you let your mind go through all the day's events. You can't stop thinking of that pair of dark eyes going all over your body. You wanted to do the same. You wanted to admire him all.

You have created many scenarios of what it would be like to meet him. But it went so differently than what you pictured. He doesn't even know who you are or doesn't even care about you. You two could become friends in the future, but for now, your feelings for him are all over the place, and you don't wish to let your heart shatter, not again. Besides, he has Sussie - of course, you have no idea what those two are going through - and you, well, who would want to be with you and your whole "situation"? Your chances with him are zero minus a hundred.

You do your skincare routine before sending yourself to bed - for sure, you will be visiting the hotel's spa in the following days - already dreading tomorrow, a day full of meetings and interviews, you are slightly nervous about what the press is going to ask you, even if Michael does the heavy lifting for you in those matters, everyone seems so curious about you.

You turn the lights off and pray for a good night of sleep, free of the frequent nightmares you experience.

The following day, the driver's parade happens inside walls, while all drivers gather together in a small meeting room - a very office-looking space with sad, white-empty walls, gray carpeting, and way too lit up. Cold lighting is the worst! No F1 glamor on sight - this is part of one of the new progressive and "brilliant" ideas from the FIA.

Chaos is unleashed as everyone looks for a chair with their name tag.

—Did everyone see her? —Lando asks loudly to the entire room - filled at the moment just by drivers - He is sitting backward in his chair, on the front row, facing the rest. He is wearing his McLaren kit and cap, which is worn backward.

—Yes, we all did. Unless you live under a rock, you have missed that circus, but coming from you, it wouldn't surprise me —Checo answers, joking.

Lando purposely ignores him and throws him a dirty look and a kiss. —Then, ladies… From 1 to 10, how hard would you bang her? Starting with you, Seb —he asks everyone.

—Seriously, mate? So… sexist… —Vettel answers.

—Come on, bee-guy. What? It's just friendly chit-chat among us drivers, as the FIA would love to remind us, "This meeting's purpose is to establish communications between all teams drivers, their principals, along with the FIA representatives to build relationships and sportsmanship among-"

—Stop reading from the sign, idiot —Carlos says, following Lando's gaze to the sad poster pin crooked on the open door.

—Fine, but let's be honest here: she's the most exciting thing to happen to us in a while, not to mention the most recent. It's not like we are going to admire new guy Yuki's hips. All here have excellent vision, and she looked so FINE like you pervs didn't notice.

—Speak for yourself —Pierre answers jokingly, coming through on his way to his chair, passing in front of Lando in that reduced space, trying not to step on someone. Everyone laughs.

—She is so out of your league anyway; why bother? —Max mentions from the corner, sitting stretched out, his back against the wall, legs on top of the chair beside him. —And I agree with Pierre, Yuki's hips are immaculate, by the way.

—If someone cares, I think my vision is starting to fail me. I will need glasses soon —Nando jokes.

—Don't you worry, abuelo! It's just you getting even more ancient —Pato adds.

—I thought this meeting was for drivers? I mean real ones —Alonso jokes back.

—Oh, mate, low punch! I saw some of her interviews on telly; she is cheeky —George adds, drinking from a Merc bottle and standing near the door.

—Couldn't sound more British if you tried —Bottas adds.

—He is your Royal Highness, Prince George —Lewis jokes.

—More like your Royal Ass-ness —Leclerc adds amidst laughs.

—I saw her interviews too! It's like Ricciardo got female, but was actually funny and hot —Lando replies.

—Fuck you, mate —Daniel answers, laughing. —You know, she could breastfeed you.

—I wouldn't mind —Lando kids, hitting Dani - sat beside him - on the ribs with his elbow. Today, he is set to act like a naughty boy.

—Lando!! —four drivers say in unison, in shock.

—You're so gross, mate, I swear —Lewis adds simultaneously, palm on his face, half laughing, half wanting to rip his own ears off.

—I'm pretty sure that would be so illegal. I don't want to go to jail, Mr. Officer! —you say, entering through the door. Everyone turns to look at you. You overhear that part of the conversation; it doesn't feel mean-spirit. Then Lando's face matches the red color on Charles' shirt as he slowly turns around on his chair and sits - the proper way - quiet and still. It's a hilarious scene.

—I'm not into minors, but I could change your diaper and read you some bedtime stories to make you fall asleep. "The Little Orange Tin" you would love —you joke to break off the tension.

Michael follows you inside, laughing under his breath. You two take your seats and start chatting casually, two places away. You are seated next to Lewis - to your right - and to an empty chair with no tag to your left by the end of the row.

You are already a fan of Lewis. And again, you know so much about him because of Sam. Now, he is her favorite person on earth. You feel slightly hurt by that fact, but he sounds lovely, so honestly, it doesn't bother you.

—Hi, I'm Lewis —he offers you a fist bump.

—Hi, Lewis. I'm Y/N

—How is F1 treating you? All good? —Sebastian asks you, popping out from Lewis's right. Both their attention to you. Heavens, those are some beautiful eyes. You can't figure out if they are green or blue, but you don't want to stare too long.

Sebastian's actual chair is next to Charles, some rows at the front, but he sits next to Lewis because he feels like it. Messing the order. An anarchist at heart.

—All good, thank you —you answer. —It's been chaotic, but I'm enjoying it. And I'm eager for the first race.

—Me too. I always miss driving during breaks —Lewis tells you.

—I agree —Seb adds. —It is the best feeling in the world, so it's hard to let go.

Then Millie enters the room - pink cat-ears headphones on, rocking the new Williams kit: A minimalistic stretchy sports jersey, a white tee with black seams, and the W logo in black print at the center of the chest. It is a fully fitted silhouette with a high neckline and short sleeves, paired with some sleek black sports slacks.

Michael and you point Millie to the chair next to Michael - with her name tag - she gets there fast and takes off one side of her headphones.

—What up! —Millie greets. —Hi, Sebs!, Hi Lew! —she says extra sweetly and high-pitched tone, waving a hand while facing them. That girl is like a walking cartoon. She looks extra petite and young among those guys.

—Hi, Millie!!! —both of them answer in unison, with the same sweet-pitched tone. It's a cute moment.

Then, the room starts to fill up. And the FIA representative enters, meaning the meeting is about to begin.

A very rushed Mick gets in, also wearing the team's kit. Millie raises a hand and waves it, catching his attention. He moves very fast to his seat. And behind him enters Mattia and Toto, chatting with each other.

Holy shit. The fact that Toto would be there didn't cross your silly mind. And since Seb swapped chairs. The one where he sat belonged to Toto. So the chair next to you is empty and available for the Austrian. You see Mattia sit on the last free spot at the front, and Toto glances around, confused, till he spots the space to your side. You see him walk towards you almost in slow motion. And you set your mind to "if I pretend to not notice him, it means he's not there."

You sense him sitting only inches from you, his arm skin almost touching yours. While you keep your eyes locked straight ahead, point to the FIA guy without daring to move. He stretches while trying to adjust himself to a comfortable position. He is tall and muscular, and these chairs are a joke. His knee moves dangerously close to yours. For a moment, you see the inevitable contact coming. And your heartbeat starts to rise. But it doesn't happen. Damn, he smells so good! How on earth are you to get focus?

And then the meeting begins.

The whole thing is lame. You and Lewis laugh several times at Seb's under-his-breath comments and jokes about what is happening right at the moment. The German has excellent timing and good puns and one-liners. Those two seem like besties, Lewis being the "serious" of the pair; go figure!

The open mic section starts and the FIA guy offers the microphone around. Lewis instantly and discreetly crosses an arm over Seb's hands, and Vettel raises his eyebrows. —Freedom of speech, much? —Sebastian jokes.

—What are you going to ask? Seriously? —Lewis tells him.

—I have a genuine question!

—Why I don't believe you.

—Like why? You don't trust me?

—Oh, I do, but...

—But then... let me grab the mic.

Lewis lets out a sigh. Seb raises a hand, now free from Lewis's grip. And the microphone goes to him.

—Check, check —The entire room pays him attention. —Ahm, I have a question for you all.

—Yes, please, go ahead —The poor FIA guy looks overly excited that someone cares enough to say something. Most of them, not to say all of them, look forced to be there, bored, and by that point, so done with this meeting.

—Gentlemen, a short view back to the past. Thirty years ago, Niki... —The more he talks, the louder everyone laughs. Michael loses it. Sebastian recites the whole thing by heart.

What an icon.

The FIA guy couldn't look more confused.

You hear Toto's laugh for the first time; he has been sitting there quietly this entire time. You briefly and occasionally feel his gaze set on you, but you don't dare to turn, look, or talk to him. You know very well that any moment of weakness from you means your doom. Back to Toto's laugh. What is that heaven-sent sound? You want more. How can you get more? Can someone get addicted to a sound?

—Blimey, I knew it! —Lewis lets out, shaking his head and also smiling.

With that question, it is clear the meeting has ended.

As everyone is getting on their feet, you feel Toto purposely caressing his arm against yours as he gets on his feet and then walks to the exit without looking back at you. Your eyes follow him around till you lose sight. Sweet baby Jesus, those toned arms.

Race day arrives.

The Sahkir circuit is a whole party, and the atmosphere is to the roof. All drivers get in position after the entourages move quickly out of the way. The chaos on the track dissipates within seconds.

Then, after the formation lap, the red lights turn off, and the violent roars from the engines fill your ears. Oh, what a sound, now you are addicted to it.

After a great start from your team and almost two hours later, Lewis and Millie face down in a back-to-back battle. Switching positions 3 times in the final ten laps. It is a monumental effort from the drivers, teams, and their strategies. Emotions are on edge at the pitlane and at the benches.

Millie crosses the line first, less than half a second ahead, and fireworks go up in the air. Fans roar, and you all go nuts! Your crew runs to the pit wall fence, climbing it up and waving as she passes by, lots of fist pumps onto the air. It's your first podium! Your? Like you did something, lol. Your team gets their first podium!! - better - it is a great start. And for the first time in forever, you feel alive and cheerful.

Amidst hugs and pats on the back from crew members and supporters, you make your way to the podium area, following Michael. He is dragging you along; you are in a blur with all that adrenaline rushing through your veins, the noise, the lights, and the crowds.

During the podium ceremony, when the Croatian anthem plays - you are now surrounded by all three teams' entourages, all watching the ceremony together and supporting their driver - you notice Millie getting emotional. It is a first for her, too. And when it finishes, everyone around you starts cheering and clapping like maniacs for her as she raises and kisses the trophy.

Michael, right next to your side, takes off his white W cap before Millie, and she gestures a praying sign with her hands from high above the podium to thank him and thank you. You blow her a kiss just before rivers of champagne fill the place.

Millie is the sweetest. You felt a genuine connection from the first moment you met her - a couple of months ago at the new Williams headquarters - before she agreed to sign the deal. She trusts you, and you believe in her. So you are on this journey together and feel so happy for her.

You get so distracted by these thoughts and others, too, that you don't notice the place started to empty. When you return to reality, you turn around to leave, following Michael's steps, and almost crash into someone walking in the opposite direction. You are left facing a very nice-looking chest - mere inches away from your face - wearing a white Mercedes shirt. You raise your gaze from those fine pecs that belong to Toto and look at his handsome face.

—Hi... —He says, looking down at you, he is way taller than you.

—H-h...i —You feel weak on the knees.

—I-I..

—I... I'm.

You both say at the same time. You step to the left, and Toto steps to the left synchronously.

—Sor..ry-y.

—So-rry.

You both keep talking over each other. So Toto moves aside, gesturing with his hand to let you go through first.

—Nice meeting you —you say calmly and quickly rush away.

—Same —he replies, following you with his gaze and watching you walk away. You feel he wants to say more, and you do, too, but it is better this way.

"What the fuck was that. Why on earth were you so nervous, girl? It was like you forgot how to speak!" You think.

"The fumes in the garage are starting to affect me," Toto thinks. "Is she running away from me? Yeah... The fumes are definitely affecting me. Damn, she walks fast."

Australia

Thanks to poor scheduling and the worst jet traffic, Michael and you aren't able to land on time. All tracks are being used at the moment, so you get sent to another terminal further away from the circuit. Qualy for the Australian GP is about to start, and obviously, you two are running late.

A Lamborghini Sian car is already waiting for you when you land. So you ask the chauffeur to toss the car keys to Michael. —We have like ten minutes to be there —you tell Schumi.

—Understood, boss.

You instantly regret phrasing it like that. Schumi is driving like a madman while getting directions from the chauffeur in the backseat. Michael pushes the engine to the limit, and the car goes full speed. You feel your body melting with the car seat as you hang for your dear life to the seatbelt. Ten minutes was a say, you didn't truly mean it, let's try another one: To get there alive if possible, this one you meant it.

Michael enters the staff parking lot at the Melbourne circuit by taking an extreme corner still at full force. The two security guys sprint to open the gates; it is that or get run over.

Once you get in, you see him letting the wheel go a second, and the car starts spinning around - it twirls at an alarming speed. "Am I going to get projected out of this window?" you think. And in just one wild movement, he parallels parks, tires burning. The Fast and Furious stunts were a kid's play next to his. Everyone stares at the scene, astounded.

—9.48.00 minutes, boss —Schumi says. Turning off the engine while checking his Rolex Daytona.

He was insane for this.

—Well, I hope you are as fast on your feet as you were on this car —You joke, grabbing your purse and access badge while getting out of the vehicle, heels hitting the ground like nothing had happened. Because, above everything, you are a bad bitch.

—Are you? —he dares you. Walking past the front of the car, catching your step.

—Haven't you seen my legs?! —You joke. Toned they are.

—You make the 100-meter dash athletes jealous —He jokes back.

You are going to get so many fines. So many.

You two make it to the W garage on time. You "fashion walk" there, according to the people who mock you. Since you don't feel like blending in with the mechanics - and because of your outfits and looks. The Williams garage is located dead last on the pitlane, so you have to walk in front of all other teams' garages to get there every time - expensive bag-swinging in the air, designer heels clacking on the floor, always wearing a chic something; dresses, shorts, skirts - as if they don't enjoy it! Of course, you expected toxic masculinity and sexism on your way, especially since your team is dominating! But not this early on.

—You are late! —Millie jumps at you.

—Let's not talk about it. I'm going to need therapy, thanks to that experience.

—What?! —She looks at you with a funny face.

—Nevermind. All ready?

—Do I look like ready? —She says, gesturing at herself. She is wearing an oversized lilac tee - at least twice her size - and a white tennis mini-skirt with matching white Jordans.

She follows you to the dressing rooms right across from your remote office, where you quickly leave your purse and stuff inside. As you two get there, Millie tells you how excited she is that Sanrio offered to design her helmet for Suzuka before going to change.

—What do you think? Is it too much? —she asks you. Inviting you into her custom dressing room and pointing around. It looks like Minisio had puked that room out.

—Is very you! —you answer.

—I know, right!!! —she gives you a big dumb smile.

—Are your boobs out? —Mick asks while entering through her dressing room doors - eyes closed, arms extended in front, walking mummy-like - not seeing you there, obviously.

—What?! No! —Millie answers as Loretta (her trainer slash assistant) finishes suiting her up.

—Great! I can open my eyes then! —he says.

—I don't think there's much to see, Mick —Millie jokes while putting on a sad face and looking down at her chest. —Two lemons, barely.

—I don't think Marc from statistics thinks the same. I saw him trying to find them —He jokes. Mick gains a smack on the arm.

Millie's popularity has skyrocketed; she is already a paddock favorite. By this point, she had already rejected three engineers who asked her out - not because of ego, being rude, or wanting to break hearts - but because she is so clueless and a shy dork with zero social skills, in her own words: "I communicate better with cars and engines than with people, at least I know how to work them."

—Kids, kids! —you say, amused at the scene.

—Oh, hi, boss! I didn't notice you there —Mick looks at you, a bit embarrassed.

—No worries —You are glad those two are getting along well.

Mick drops himself on the fluffy pink oval puff in one of the corners. One leg up.

—Why are you here on my land? —Millie asks.

—Oh yeah. I came to say something —Mick adds like he is just remembering. —Yes! My father is waiting for you two to start the team's meeting. Everyone is there already. It's urgent. So hurry.

—Oh god, and you just let us know now.

The three of you get on your feet real fast.

After a good team catch-up and an impeccable motivational speech from Michael, all of you get to your positions inspired and ready to give it all.

As the Qualy starts, you turn to Michael. —You are a great leader, you know? We are lucky to have you —you tell him.

—I'm glad to be here, more than you imagine, boss.

Millie secures a pole position. Sparks flyed. Damn, that car was fast, and she, she was faster!

When the workday is done, you wait for Sam across from Merc's hospitality. It's getting dark.

You are sitting on a bench a few meters away, next to a tree with beautiful yellow flowers, looking at your phone and minding your business, avoiding looking like a threat near competitors' territory.

—Waiting for Sam? —Toto asks you from the other side - at the bottom of the stairs of their main cafeteria entrance - you raise your gaze at the sound of his voice.

—Yes! Hi! Will she be taking long? —You can't avoid smiling at him and sound slightly nervous.

—No, she is on her way, but I must warn you, she's been insufferable the entire day. She had one of those, what she calls it? A bad ha...

—A bad hair day —you both finish in unison. —Yikes! How bad it was? The hair? I mean.

—Oh, terrible! I had to look at it all day —he answers jokingly, putting an ew face. Toto walks towards you and sits on the bench by your side, stretching his legs and resting one on top of the other.

The truth is, Samanta doesn't have naturally straight locks; she has long, curly hair she straightens. And sometimes, some days, some weather gave her that wavy, frizzy, wild, non-combable hair.

—You are such an inspiration, a true survivor. Tell me all about your journey —You make him laugh, you love that. More, please.

The door interrupts you two as you both smile at each other like dumbs and lock eyes. Sam goes out, black Merc hoodie on, covering almost her entire face, overdramatic as usual.

—Rocking the Palpatine? —you tease her.

—Hilarious. Bad hair day. I look like Monica Geller on that trip to the beach beneath this —she says with sarcasm. Toto laughs. —Ah, now that reference you get —Sam rolls her eyes.

—Jezz, that mood, huh? A few drinks will get you through these dark times, my friend. Let's go! —you add.

—Oh no, I'm not going.

—What?! Why?! Why are you like this, Samanta?!

—No, why is humidity a thing? Who needs it?

—Aem, all of Australia's wildlife? —Toto adds.

—Shut up, smarty pants —Sam lets out.

—You look like Hagrid —he replies.

—Torger, don't test me, I swear —she warns him, fingers rubbing her forehead.

—So, when will you be available then? —you ask her, cutting off the bickering.

Sam opens her weather app to check the humidity levels. —Ahm, like next week? Not in Australia?

—Are you serious, dude?! I already booked! —You two were going to that Michelin star blindfolded dining and drinking experience. It was so on trend that booking a table there was Melbourne's most challenging and expensive thing at the moment.

—Sorry, I'm not going out looking like this! But for sure Toto could join you! He desperately needs to get some of that stress out of his system. He's getting meaner.

—What!? Me, the meaner one? —Toto lets out.

—What?! Sam! No, no. He is probably busy, and I don't want to bo... —you add, quickly, getting nervous while trying not to show it.

She interrupts you.

—Busy?! No, he is just in an antisocial mood swing. Toto barely left his office today! All grumpy, he was inside there. Besides, didn't you, my guy, tell me you were going straight to your hotel to lock yourself and binge-watch Love Island while eating ice cream straight from the bucket? —Sam teases him, well aware Toto is feeling low - more like heartbroken - Sam hates Sussie, but of course, she will never admit it publicly, and definitely not to him. This is her weird way of showing him her support by setting him up to go out and have fun with a great person instead of being miserable and all alone. Classic Sam.

—What? No. What's Love Island? I wasn't being antisocial; I had a ton of work today, unlike you —He answers deadpan.

—Do you even own a TV? —Sam is seriously curious.

—Of course, I do! Several, in fact —It doesn't mean he watches them.

—You must be rich! —you joke. He smiles.

—Yeah, whatever. Come on! Get to know each other! Have a good time on me and my hair's behalf —Sam grabs you both, each by the arm, and walks you towards the exit.

—Is it me, or is she getting worse with age? —You address Toto.

—No question!

—Hey! You can't trash-talk me! —Sam complains.

—Oh, that's all we will be doing; we are going to talk so much trash about you, piles of it, that the garbage collector will plead to us no more —you mock her.

—I'm hating this already! —Sam crosses her arms.

Well, now you have a date with Toto. A date, yeah, in your dreams.

To be continued... < Masterlist | Next chapter >

290 notes · View notes

mbappebby · 1 year

Text

Legacy || One

Jude Bellingham x Luna Hamilton (OC)

Summary: The news about Leah Hamilton finally getting a seat in formula 1 is finally released, Jude is very happy and proud of his best friend.

Requested: Yes, by anonymous: Hey! I can’t wait for the new series! Can I request something where the news of Luna racing in f1 finally gets released and Jude finds out the same time but he is very proud and happy for her! Maybe they both either on call for ages or they go and meet up with each other? Thank you, can’t wait!!!

Words: 1K +

Series

@ f1

Liked by lewishamilton, judebellingham and 3,826,093 others

f1: Luna Hamilton will be racing for Mclaren this year, she will be making her debut for the same team her father did. Can’t wait to see you in action, Lu!

tagged: lunahamilton

view all 52,729 comments

username Yes Luna!!!!

username Deserves this so much!!

username Let’s goooo

username F2 champion, was going to be soon enough she got a seat in f1!

lunahamilton Can’t wait to get started!!🥰

mercedesamgf1 We will miss you in garage the lil one :(

lunahamilton Don’t worry I’ll be still be allowed in to annoy dad and George :))

lewishamilton Will you now?

georgerussell63 Haven’t heard that one yet..

username ^^ I love them so much!!

username Lewis and George🤣

username You just know that Luna really isn’t joking!

“You will not be annoying us” Lewis said to his daughter as he walked into the living room. “Who said? Toto loves me, he will let me in the garage!” Luna replied with a smile.

“Whatever you say, you happy it’s out now?” Lewis asked. “Of course I am, it’s been hard keeping all of it a secret” Luna added as she phone started to ring.

“Surprised you kept it from Jude as well, I’ll leave you now I’ll see you tomorrow” Lewis said and kissed her forehead before leaving her apartment.

“See you dad!” Luna called before he left and then she answered the FaceTime call from her best friend. “Why didn’t you tell me?!” Jude shouted.

“I wasn’t allowed to J!” Luna told him. “I’m proud of you, so proud! You achieved your dream Lu!” Jude added. “Now onto the next dream..” Luna smiled.

“Which is winning the World Championship, you will definitely do that soon” Jude said. “Hopefully, that’s the goal” Luna added.

“I miss you” Jude said which made Luna smile. “I miss you too J, when will you be back in Birmingham?” Luna asked.

“Actually getting on a flight tonight, so tomorrow as we are still on Christmas break” Jude told her. “Really?! I’m going to drive up there!” Luna added. “Let me drive down to London, Lu” Jude said.

“No! You will want to be with your family so I’ll come up to you, next time you can drive down to mine alright?” Luna told him. “Okay, that’s a promise right there!” Jude added.

“You have a long time off for Christmas, don’t you?” Luna asked. “Yeah, a few friendlies until the 10th of January and the first league game back is the 22nd” Jude told her.

“Ah right, you going to go to a lot of Jobe’s games I’m assuming when you get here?” Luna added. “Sure am, you will come with me too” Jude said.

“I love watching Jobe play anyways” Luna smiled. “I feel like you like him more than me” Jude pouted. “Awh, look at the pout on your face” Luna giggled.

“Shut up” Jude mumbled. “You know I could never like him more than you, your my best friend and always will be J” Luna said.

“Your my best friend too, Lulu” Jude added. “Hey! I thought that we agreed not to use that nickname anymore!” Luna said. “It’s cute though!” Jude told her.

“Whatever, text me when you got to Birmingham tomorrow okay? Then we can plan something then” Luna said. “Will do, Lu! See you soon!” Jude added.

“See you, J!” Luna smiled as the call ended.

@ lunahamilton

Liked by judebellingham, k.mbappe and 4,283,936 others

lunahamilton: It’s been a dream of mine ever since I was a little girl to reach it to formula 1. I knew how hard I would have to work to even get into motorsport as I was a girl. It’s crazy to think I’ve actually reach that goal, even though I thought it would be impossible to back then.

My dad, was always my inspiration growing up, seeing what he was doing in the sport was something I wanted to do as well. I have to thank him for everything he taught me, I wouldn’t be in this position without him! I love you dad🤍

Thank you for all the kind and loving messages I appreciate them so much, see you all on the track soon!

tagged: mclaren lewishamilton f1

view all 32,638 comments

username Proud of you Luna!

username Your my inspiration now🥰

lewishamilton It may have been me teaching you everything you needed to know, but it was your heart and dedication that helped you achieve this! So proud of you kid, love you Lu❤️

lunahamilton Love you too dad❤️

username Congrats Luna!!

username Two Hamilton’s on the grid🤩

username Let’s go Lu!

username Lewis🥹

username I can’t wait to see Luna and Lewis on the podium🥰

judebellingham Proud of you Lu!🤍

lunahamilton Thank you J🤍

trentarnold66 “JuSt bEsT fRieNdS”

reecejames You guys make me sick!

username Lol Trent and Reece🤣

username Luna and Jude would be cute together!!

username Trent🤣

a/n: Requests are open for this series!!

#football #football imagines #jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #f1 #formula 1 #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton

177 notes · View notes

totowlff · 9 months

Text

chapter two — teaching methods

➝ curiosity got the better of toto and he's back at ava's apartment, ready to play her game. he just need to know if she was looking for someone to play with…

➝ word count: 3,1k

➝ warnings: smut, d/s dynamics, masturbation (in a way), foot fetish (if you squint)

➝ author’s note: going through one of those difficult weeks where you think the only solution is to die. i should probably be monitored or something. i hope you like the chapter.

As the numbers glowed red on the elevator's LED panel, tension twisted Toto’s stomach. He couldn't help but feel anxious, especially considering what he was about to do in a few minutes. However, it wasn't like he could blame his own impulsiveness in being there.

The decision to message Ava and ask if he could stop by her apartment that night was carefully thought about for a long time. He gave even more attention to that than to the latest car-related reports of the season that was about to begin. Just one of the consequences of walking into the wrong door the night he had dinner at that flat in Chelsea.

Since then, that place had become a constant presence in Toto's thoughts. It was as if he was unable to think about anything other than being there, in front of Ava again, feeling her touch set his skin on fire. In that position, he would be able to do anything for her.

Itt was scary, even for him.

When the elevator stopped on the sixth floor, Toto let out a heavy sigh, trying to focus on what he would say to Ava once he saw her. Maybe it would be better to be honest with her, say everything at once. Or would it be better to ask for something to drink? No, the best thing was to not give her time to say anything and just kiss her, hoping that she would understand what he wanted to say.

— Good evening, Toto — she greeted him, making him realize that she had already pressed the doorbell. “Shit”, he thought to himself, trying to draw some mental script of what he wanted to say — How are you?

— Good evening — he stammered — Everything’s okay. What about you?

— All good — Ava said, leaning her face against the wood of the door — Do you want to come in?

Answering with a positive nod, Toto entered the apartment feeling his heart beating heavy inside his chest. After taking off his shoes and hanging up his coat, he stopped to take a look at Ava. Wearing a short black satin set of button-down pajamas, he allowed Toto a little glimpse of her breasts as well as her legs.

“She’s so beautiful”, he thought to himself, before looking up from her cleavage to her eyes, that were trained on him. The feeling was that he had been caught doing something wrong, which made him swallow hard.

— Come with me — she said, walking into the living room.

Almost robotically, Toto followed her, his pulse roaring in his ears. Upon entering the room, he noticed that the television was on, some program with a man appearing to sing a rap in a baseball shirt standing still on the screen.

— I didn't expect you to come back here — Ava mumbled, making Toto suddenly look at her.

— No?

— The way you left that night, I thought — she hesitated, as she sat on the arm of the white sofa — I had scared you.

Toto blinked. That was definitely not the impression he wanted to give when he said goodbye to her like that. But at the same time, it was a little naive of him to think that she wouldn't see his action as him attempting to escape.

— No, no, you didn't scare me — he finally said — I just needed to... Think.

— Think?

— Yeah, think. To… process everything…

— Never seen a BDSM dungeon before? — Ava asked, dryly.

— No — Toto replied, innocently— Like, I knew that such a thing existed, but I'd never been in one before. Well, I still don't think I was, because your room doesn’t look like a dungeon.

She smiled, lowering her head.

— Well, that’s not necessarily my room…

— Don't you sleep there?

— No. Let’s just say that room is reserved for my guests.

— You mean — he hesitated for a few seconds — Your submissives?

Ava gave a suggestive smile.

— Apparently someone has been reading about it — she murmured, getting up from the arm of the sofa, her eyes fixed on his.

— Yeah, well — Toto stuttered, looking away from her. It was useless to deny that he hadn't researched that subject, trying to better understand what role Ava assumed within that room and what role he could assume to please her — I have…

The smile grew on her face as she slowly approached him. Toto felt his breath catch in his throat, his heart beating heavy in his chest.

— And what did you discover? — Ava asked, her face raised to his.

— So — he began to search his own memory, feeling completely lost with her proximity to his body — There is a dominant and a submissive. And the submissive does whatever the dominant wants.

A giggle escaped her lips.

— That’s… a bit inaccurate — Ava said, raising a hand to fiddle with the collar of his shirt — Very much so, actually.

— Uh… Why?

— The submissive is the center of everything in BDSM — she explained — Without his knowledge and, above all, his consent, nothing happens in the bedroom. There is the idea that he does whatever the dominant wants, but the good dominant only does what is within the limits of his submissive. And within its limits, of course.

— And which are your limits? — Toto asked softly.

— Well, I'm what they define as a gentle dominant — Ava said, her hand sliding over the white fabric — I prefer to educate my submissives with positive incentives when they obey me and not necessarily through punishments when they do wrong things.

— You don't do physical punishments, then?

— If he deserves, I'll punish him — she murmured, her eyes going down his chest — And, even though I'm gentle, I don't usually show mercy if my submissive doesn't follow my rules.

— Tough love, then? — Toto asked, making Ava's fingers, which were brushing the three letters stitched right next to his navel, tense up. Looking up at him, there was a glint of distrust in them, before she smiled again.

— Yeah, something like that.

Silence stretched between them for a few seconds, uncomfortable enough that Toto finally felt the urge to finally say the three words that had made him drive here from Oxford.

— I want to… — he whispered.

— What? — Ava asked, looking a little shocked.

— I want to do this with you.

— You mean, submit to me?

— Yeah.

She took a step back, the expression on her face turning serious.

— You know that you can’t do it like that, don't you?

— But, I read that if both parties are comfortable with the idea, it is possible to…

— Toto, it's much more than agreeing to have sex with each other. We need to know everything about each other, about what we want and don't want to do, about our limits, health issues...

— Are you going to ask me for a blood test to see if I'm clean? Come on…

— I'm not going to risk my life to fuck you, no matter how handsome you are — she replied, crossing her arms — Besides, I don't know about your previous injuries, your allergies, your traumas...

— Do you want me to send my medical history to you so you can confirm whether or not you can whip me?

— Do you want to be whipped? — Ava returned, raising a suspicious eyebrow. Taking a step forward, Toto rested his hands on her hips, the soft satin causing a shiver to run across his skin.

— I want you to introduce me to your world, Ava — he said softly — I want you to make me yours. On your terms, within your limits, the way you want.

She pursed her lips, as if thinking about his words.

— Please, Ava. I just want to be yours — Toto whispered, his eyes fixed on the brown that stained the edges of her pupils. He felt his body tense, anxious about her imminent response.

— You know I won't do anything to hurt you, right? — Ava finally said, her hands landing on his wrists.

— Yes.

— You know that the moment you say the safe word, I'm going to stop, right?

— Yes — Toto replied — Red, green, and yellow, right?

— No, we won't use the traffic lights, this isn't driving school. You can choose a random word that is unlikely to appear in our scenarios and that is simple enough for you to remember. It could be an animal, a place, a fruit…

When she mentioned the word fruit, he smiled.

— Pineapple, perhaps?

— Perfect. As soon as you say that, or, if you can't speak, tap me three times, I will stop everything and give you the time and space you need, okay?

He nodded.

— As I said before, I am a gentle dominant, I will not insult you or degrade you in any way. I won't spit or do anything scatological. I will not force you to do anything without your clear consent. I will not risk your health or safety in any way, even if you beg for it. Inside these walls, my priority is that you're okay at the end of the night, right?

— Yeah — he said softly, something tingling just below his navel.

— So, are you sure you want this, Toto?

— Yes… Mommy? — he replied, somewhat uncertain about the form of treatment. She giggled, shaking her head.

— No mommy, no goddess. Ma'am or mistress is enough for me.

— Okay, ma'am — Toto said, a familiar warmth running through his body as he said the last word and saw Ava's reaction, who smiled with satisfaction.

However, contrary to what he expected, she walked away from him, heading back towards the white sofa. Then, sitting back down on the upholstered arm, Ava crossed her legs, watching him with a suggestive gleam in her eyes.

— Well, I believe we can begin your introduction to my world with rituals.

— Shall we light a fire? — he asked in a mischievous tone — Will we be dismantling your coffee table for tinder?

She smiled.

— Very funny, but no — Ava replied — Rituals or protocols, if you prefer, are the way we connect emotionally and psychologically with our roles within the scenarios of domination and submission. In addition to being visually pleasing, personally speaking.

—And what do you want me to do?

— First, I want you to be silent. The ritual is something important to me, I want you to respect it and follow it to the letter every time we meet, okay?

— Yes, ma'am — Toto said softly.

— Second, I want you to take off all your clothes.

Something about that sentence made his eyes widen.

— Here? — Toto asked.

— Did I allow you to question my orders? — she questioned him sharply. Her tone sent a shiver across Toto's skin.

— No.

— No what?

— No, ma'am.

—Then you will do as I say, without questions. Now, take off your clothes.

Swallowing hard, Toto moved his hands to the second button on his white shirt, slowly opening it. Sliding the fabric down her arms and placing it on the armchair next to him, he could feel Ava's eyes burning into his skin, assessing every exposed inch of his torso.

Then he opened his belt and then the button on his black pants. The sound of the metal buckle hitting the floor caused a new wave of heat to spread across his skin, especially when he noticed his own erection under his white underwear. It wasn't a surprise that he was aroused, especially after he had convinced himself that he wanted to submit to Ava.

He was surprised when he looked up at her.

— I said everything.

— The underwear too?

— Even the socks — Ava said, her face in a completely unreadable expression.

Concentrating on his own breathing, Toto slid his underwear down his legs, taking the opportunity to take off his socks. Even though the air in the apartment was a little cold, he felt his entire body pulsating, hot and pleading.

— Come here — she murmured, her eyes fixed on his member.

Toto approached carefully, one step at a time. Stopping just in front of her, he felt the air catch in his lungs as Ava analyzed his cock, almost as if he was evaluating whether he was suitable enough for her.

— I thought you were circumcised.

— Why would I be? — he asked softly.

— I read something about you being of Jewish descent.

He raised an eyebrow.

— Did you search about me on the internet?

Ava looked up at him as a finger slid down the underside of his cock. That subtle touch was enough for Toto to feel all his muscles tense, the air trapped in his lungs.

— It's none of your business.

— Of course it's my business, it's my dick — he said, only for a look from Ava for him to shut up, swallowing hard.

— If I said it's none of your business, Toto, it's because it's none of your business — she said, her voice stern as she took her hand away — And, if this wasn't your first time in a BDSM scene, I would punish you for being so insolent.

— You said you don't spank — he said in a low voice.

— I don't spank. My punishments are much worse — Ava returned, with a malicious gleam in her eyes — Go back to where you were.

Resigned, Toto stepped back, taking a deep breath.

— What now?

— Kneel — she said, in an imperious tone — And keep your head down.

As much as he wanted to question her, to understand the reasons why Ava was demanding that, Toto wanted to please her, he wanted to satisfy her, he wanted her to be happy with him. And she would only be happy if he obeyed her.

So Toto obeyed, in silence.

— Good boy — Ava said. And that was all it took for a hot wave of excitement to run down Toto's abdomen, making his dick twitch.

“Fuck”, he thought, exhaling slowly as he tried to focus on anything other than his own arousal or the clear liquid that had started to drip from his cock and run down his leg. He definitely needed Ava to do something, to touch him, to make him feel good, just like she promised.

However, she laughed.

— Are you already this excited, little boy? — Ava purred, moving from what Toto could see through his peripheral vision — I didn't think a guy like you would be so sensitive...

He pressed his lips together, trying to resist the urge to respond, to show that he was capable of bearing what she had in mind to take him to the edge of pleasure. However, he wanted to surrender, to allow himself to become putty in Ava's hands.

— Maybe I should discover which is your limit — she murmured just above him, her feet appearing just in front of him — How long can you last until I make you beg me to give you what you want.

Lifting one of her feet, her toes, whose nails were painted a delicate shade of nude, lightly brushed against his dick. That simple stimulus made Toto hiss, his eyes closing tightly.

— Can you tell me what you want, little boy? — Ava asked softly.

Toto's mind was a real mess. Horniness clouded his other senses, the only thing he wanted at that moment was relief, pleasure, Ava. He wanted her green eyes, her soft skin, her full lips. He wanted her hands, her tongue, her pussy. He wanted any crumb she could give.

— You — the word came out in a sob from Toto's throat.

He heard another laugh from Ava, who moved away from him again. With his skin almost feverish, his nails dug into the skin of his thighs in search of some other sensation that wasn't the pain of his desire.

Then, he heard the sound of satin, making his eyes shoot upward.

Ava had begun to open her pajamas’ shirt, revealing the curves of her breasts. Always covered by elegant blouses and modest necklines, they were the perfect size for Toto's hands. And he wanted to touch them, massage them, feel her nipples harden under his thumbs.

No, he didn't want to.

He needed to.

Then, their eyes met.

— Did I say you could raise your head? — Ava asked, sharply.

— Ava…

She huffed, closing the shirt around her body again.

— You know I don't answer to you by that name, boy — she said, slowly walking towards the couch and sitting down.

— Sorry, ma'am...

— I should have known you weren't ready — Ava murmured, crossing her legs.

— Ma’am, please — he whispered, seeking some compassion from her mistress. However, he only encountered painful indifference.

— Get up — she said, dryly.

Toto obeyed, feeling his shoulders tense and his legs wobbly as he stood up again.

— Get dressed.

He blinked, not understanding.

— What?

— Get dressed.. Now.

Swallowing hard, Toto began the painful walk back to his own clothes. Sliding the fabric over his skin was torture, especially close to his cock, which was still pulsing, hard and hot. When his pants lightly brushed against the tip that forced the fabric of his underwear forward, he couldn't hold back the loud hiss that escaped his lips.

This was torture. He was sure of it.

Once again dressed, he looked up again at Ava, who was staring at him in silence.

— And now, ma’am? — Toto asked, whispering.

— You leave — she said, with an almost devilish smile on her lips.

Toto had never felt such despair as he did at that moment.

— What? But, how? Why?

Ava silently got up from the couch, approaching him again.

— Remember what I told you about my punishments? — she said in a low voice — I may not spank, but that doesn't mean I won't make you regret not obeying me.

— But I obeyed…

— I hadn't allowed you to raise your face to me, little boy — Ava spat — And I can guarantee you that, if you want to play my game, you will follow my rules.

— Ava — Toto babbled, as she walked past him towards the hallway. He followed her almost immediately, thinking about how he could convince her to let him stay, to give him one more chance, to give him what he wanted so much and was completely desperate to have.

However, Ava was unyielding and this was reflected in the way she took his shoes and coat, stuffing them into his arms anyway, as well as in the way her hand was on his shoulder, leading him to the door.

— Please, ma'am, please — he tried to argue, as she opened the door and pushed him out — I promise I'll behave, please.

— Good night, little boy — Ava said, before slamming the door shut.

In complete silence, Toto felt completely pathetic standing there, staring at the light wood of the door. However, he couldn't move, completely shocked by what had just happened. He had given himself to Ava, saying he wanted to do whatever she told him and the great order of the night had been to go home.

“I really am an idiot”, Toto thought to himself, as he finally left the door behind.

#toto wolff #formula 1 fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x oc #formula one fanfic #formula one fic #toto wolff x oc #toto wolff smut #wlffog #liowlff

69 notes · View notes