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wonderfulwonderrful · 2 months

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The Lonely Hearts Party

Fluff | Toto x reader fem!mercemployee

Summary: You have been receiving the most gorgeous flowers at your desk every Wednesday morning for weeks now as a mysterious admirer seems to be in love with you. The entire factory, your besties at work, and you all wonder who he is. Could it be the one you truly wish for? Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader Mercedes employee. Genre: Fluff and romance. Author's note: This is a Toto x Reader fanfic set at the Brackley Headquarters on Valentine's Day. Happy Valentine's Day to all of you! Send you lots of love. Masterlist > My Toto Woff fics

The most beautiful flowers have been arriving at your desk every Wednesday morning for almost a month now. Every week, as you reach your office in the early hours, they are already in place to welcome you.

You love smelling them; they are always fresh and sweet-scented, and you love to look at them even more.

You feel a rush of excitement to read the handwritten note that always comes attached, filled with a different poem paragraph each time, something along the lines of "She walks in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that's best of dark and bright."

Every girl in your department finds it so romantic, the mysterious admirer, but you and your besties at work, Rose and Oliver, who work in the same station that you, joke about finding it a bit creepy.

"The Creepy Flower Guy" is a nickname you came up with to refer to him as an inside joke, being the three of you true crime enthusiasts.

—Maybe it's one of those garden gnomes HR placed outside —Oliver jokes as he finishes eating his scrambled eggs after you told them about the new Lilacs you received that morning at the breakfast quick break. —Perhaps he fell in love with you by watching you walk past —he jokes.

The hilarious idea of a tiny plastic guy sneaking into the headquarters, wearing his little red hat and fast feet to get incognito to your office, and on his tiptoes, placing the flowers on your desk makes you giggle.

You have to give it to HR this time; those gnomes were a great addition to the garden's pond; every time you sit on the benches near it, you enjoy the new scene the mechanics or engineers put together every few days, having fun moving the gnomes around or placing them in the funniest scenes, even someone during winter knitted them Christmas sweaters.

—Or maybe one day we'll find you dead on the floor, poisoned in your desk after inhaling azaleas for too long —Rose adds with the most casual tone as she bites her sandwich.

—Or you go missing! Kidnapped at the parking lot by "The Creep" —Oliver adds.

—GUYS! —Ava turns around after overhearing the conversation; she is sitting at the same long table in the cafeteria, not getting your usual dark humor, a bit concerned, and creeped out. —You three need to cool it down with those goddamn crime podcasts!

—NEVER! —all of you answer at the same time.

—You freaks!

As you all finish breakfast, in a rush because the "off-season" is always the busiest time at the factory, you ask out loud. —Who do you think it is?

—It's evident! It's... —Grace from the control room team starts saying.

—Lewis Hamilton! —and she finishes along with the other five people on the table now.

Oh, the classic joke.

The entire table burst into laughter. It's a common joke to do about Lewis since almost every family member or friend thinks that working in the Mercedes racing team instantly makes you Lewis's best friend and that you always hang out with the guy, which couldn't be further away from reality.

Most of you only see him in corporate gatherings or pass by from building to building, usually on his way to the simulator or in the hallways on a lucky day.

He is always sweet and polite with the team and staff but quite distant; he still is Lewis fucking Hamilton. Unless you are part of his immediate team or Toto's, you get that privilege reserved for the key players only.

Even so, almost everyone has a Lewis or Bottas story, and ALL of you have Niki's anecdotes cause that man is bonkers and a LEGEND.

Most of them go hilarious as all of you try to act human around them, like the one Oliver has where he bumped into Lewis one day as Oliver was getting out of the bathroom and Lewis was on his way in, offering him a completely wet hand to introduce himself, which Hamilton noticed and sweetly and quickly patted Oliver on the shoulder with a "nice meeting you, man" and quickly got in.

—REAL theories only, guys! —you address the table. —Is my life a joke to you all? —you mess around, getting on your feet and closing the lid of your topper. —Please don't answer that.

Another week goes by, and a new stunning bouquet arrives.

—Oh, how exquisite! That man is so into you. Those blue mophead hydrangeas sure are expensive! —the receptionist points out to you because you are a total flower ignorant who only goes: "Oh, pretty, colorful, smell cute" without giving it much thought.

Most of the time, you have no idea what you are looking at, but you have fun googling it and trying to decipher; in your defense, no one has pampered you like this before.

You are brand new at the getting flowers game.

The following week, a couple of bets start happening at the building as the word spreads, and many wonder who the mysterious guy is.

Some think it's not a guy but a girl, as one day after a meeting, as you all are leaving, one of the engineers approaches you and makes the clever remark that the attention to detail about the type of flowers, the color palettes, and the scented notes is too much for a simple guy. —Either he is getting advised, or it's not a guy! Maybe you could obtain a reference from the company that delivers it.

This entire thing feels surreal and truly takes you by surprise since you have always considered yourself the most average girl, especially in looks and more so in the sea of beautiful blondes working at Mercedes.

Which, for some weird reason, reminded you of when you dropped your resume after one of your buddies from college - who still works there at the machine shop - gave you the heads up there was a job opening that suited you perfectly; he even had to insist you a couple of times, because you were almost sure they wouldn't give you a callback.

To your eyes, Mercedes was one of those companies that cared about looks or looked for a specific ethnic type; it turns out you judged too soon; they care about skills, productivity, and professionalism, too, and it ended up being a bit more diverse than you expected the place to be.

It still has many areas for improvement, but it's become your favorite job ever.

By the end of the day, you wait for Rose to come out of her meeting to leave together, standing in the perfectly lit hallway leaning on the impeccable white wall; it's "Cheap Thursday" at your favorite local pub, and you two desperately need fuel to finish the heavy week, so nachos and a couple of pints sound like heaven.

After what feels like an eternity, a group of people comes out of the double doors by the end of the corridor facing you, and you catch a glimpse of a very hurried-up Toto getting out, too, looking handsome and elegant as ever.

You feel his dark eyes looking you up for the briefest moment, making you shiver and blush like a teenager in front of her crush.

Thank god he doesn't stop his pace and gets out of your view within seconds but leaves you distracted enough not to notice Rose approaching you till she is by your side, looking almost pale as a ghost, whispering in your ear.

—I swear it's Toto's handwriting! I just saw him writing on the board for over an hour, and his calligraphy looks exactly like the one of "Creepy Flower Guy"!

—Come on?! Toto? Shut up! —a crackle comes out of your mouth, thinking it's the most ridiculous idea. —The billionaire smocking-hot boss falls in love with the average employee; what do you think this is? An 80s telenovela? Fuck off...

—Well, his handwriting is the same cursive style, and the "r" and "t" are almost identical —Rose starts to overexplain, trying to justify herself, looking timid and embarrassed now, and you instantly feel awful at your reaction.

—I'm so sorry, Rose, I overreacted; I tend to be too blunt! —you quickly wrap her into a hug.

—It's just that I have been seeing that calligraphy for a while now, and I found it freaky similar.

—Now, how can we make sure, Rose? Any ideas?

She shakes her head. —I'm not friends with his assistants or anyone on Toto's team.

—No one is friends with his assistants. I wouldn't be surprised if they turn out to be ex-MI5 agents or worked for the KGB —Rose starts to laugh hard, agreeing. —I think getting to the Prime Minister is easier than reaching Toto under their hands!

—You are screwed then.

—Let's rule Toto out for the moment —you add.

—Yeah.

That night at your flat, a crazy thought comes to your mind as you brush your teeth; the wackiest thoughts tend to happen to you when you brush your teeth; you need to make yourself with a piece of paper handwritten by Toto to compare it with one of your notes.

You know Toto places sticky notes on the far wall inside his office; you have noticed those on your many and regular trips to the CFO's office as your boss always sends you to deliver the reports in person by the end of every week, always passing in front of Toto's office on you way there, which most of the time it's empty since he spends the year traveling, but you try to do your best when he is in, slowing your steps a little bit more to enjoy the view and fixing your appearance a little bit too before crossing in front of him.

Still, his assistants are always at their front desk near there, making it impossible to sneak in.

If only you could make it inside Toto's office without raising questions and with a good excuse. You laugh at the idea; it's wild and ain't going to happen, and if it does, your ass is getting fired.

As the Mission Impossible cord from the ceiling scene comes to your mind, it's time for you to go to sleep.

As you anxiously roll from side to side of the bed, struggling to shut your brain off, you remember that Niki's surprise birthday celebration is scheduled in two weeks; you could volunteer to help organize the event and usher the people around, including Toto.

There is the slightest chance to make it to his office and take a quick photo of the sticky notes on the wall; it's borderline mental, but you really want to find out because Rose sounded so sure!

This is fucking insane.

Two weeks, two new bouquets later.

When you finally reach the upper floor, where the "top-tier people work," almost everyone has left to get to the party on time.

Being on time in Mercedes is a must, so there are few people you need to usher there.

You got accepted to join the Niki's celebration committee as a helper minion. Weirdly, it will be hosted in the base race of all places instead of the Silver Arrow Lounge, where most celebrations are usually held.

The decor is ready, the cake is at the counter, and the many photo props and snacks inspired by Niki's red cap are in place; even the catering and most of the people invited have arrived.

But Allison and Toto are nowhere to be seen, and the head of HR is on her nerves about it, thinking it could ruin the surprise or that two of the most influential people there are going to miss such an important event.

As you approach the bosses' offices area, you quickly search in the surroundings for them; it helps you that all offices have glass panel walls.

You venture to wander more, but nada, they are not there, and at this point, no one is there. As you return to the stairs, you pass in front of Toto's office once more.

You just need to snap a quick picture. What could go wrong? No one is near to see you, and there are no cameras around since Toto dislikes that.

"Okay, Y/N, listen, it's just a couple of steps; you have your phone in your hand; it won't take more than a few seconds..."

You feel your body acting on its own and your feet slowly moving ahead.

You gradually enter the luxurious and immaculate office.

"Okay, like four steps more, and I'm close enough to zoom in the picture."

When you almost reach his desk and the perfect distance to snap the photo, you sense movement outside, fuck, fuck, fuck. You feel someone standing behind you, right at the door.

Busted!

—Yes? Can I help you? —Toto's voice comes severe but calm.

You feel your heart in your throat as you slowly turn around.

—Yes, you can! —you quickly reply, pretending to be looking at the cool helmets and steering wheels at the corner. Is it the best move your mind could come up with? Certainly not —...Sir... —you kind of finish saying, remembering he is the boss.

Toto stares at you, waiting for you to continue as you stand motionless in the middle of the room, looking straight at him. His eyebrows go up a little, and a tiny, amused smile forms on his lips as he moves his hand, gesturing you to continue.

—They are all waiting for you at the race base, sir... to start Niki's surprise reception. He is about to arrive.

—And they sent you to get me?

—Yes —you feel the need to explain yourself more, feeling nervous. —Niki has no idea who I am, so I'm not blowing the surprise away if I bump into him on my way here!

—Interesting... —he lets out gradually.

Oh god, Toto has no clue who I am either, right?

Fuck, I'm such an idiot!

—Oh, I, I'm Y/N —your brain starts working again as you quickly introduce yourself to him, offering him a hand to shake.

He looks even more perplexed at you but grabs it; it's awkward, and you want to crawl into a hole or hide beneath the expensive rug you are stepping on.

—We should get going; I have places to go, and I'm on a schedule today.

—Oh yes, of course, sir —you quickly exit his office as he closes its glass door behind you. Well, you literally pass below his muscular arm.

Toto doesn't move much, so you squeeze in, almost brushing his body as you out, and he simultaneously closes the door, fuck, he is tall and smells so so so good.

It's a quiet walk downstairs; just the sound of your steps and breaths fills the room. You feel intimidated by Toto's presence, not used to having him that near you and being a shy-natured girl.

He seems to slow down his step, prolonging your agony.

Should I say something? But what about? Work? Something casual? You assume he wonders the same since you feel his eyes on you every few steps, but he dares to break the ice before you can.

—So y..

—I'm To... Oh, sorry, go ahead —he says at the same time.

—Oh, no worries —you nervously place a strand of your hair behind your ear. He follows the movement of your hand with his eyes. —What were you saying? —you look straight at him, Jesus; he is way cuter up close; that's some strong jawline, you can't control your eyes going all over his features.

—That I didn't introduce myself upstairs. I'm Toto, by the way —he offers you a kind and unintentionally sexy smile.

You notice, a bit way too much, how all his traits soften and how relaxed and joyful he looks when he smiles.

It turns out that "The Creepy Employee Girl" should be your nickname now.

After perceiving him as less threatening, you joke around to make the air less awkward. —Really? I had no idea! I thought you were that Lewis guy everyone talks about! But nice to meet you Toto By The Way —you fool around.

He laughs a bit. —You never heard of me before? I guess I'm losing popularity around here nowadays!

—You must hang around more to be part of the "popular squad".

—Who holds the title right now?

—The gnomes.

—Oh, yes, they are quite popular.

—A bit too much, yeah.

As you two reach the entrance to the race base, he rushes his step to hold open the door for you, letting you go first; you feel his intense gaze follow you every step as you pass right across from him, making you feel things he shouldn't.

Everyone who got invited is already there; the usually squeaky-clean and clear white counters now hold cups, party hats, bottles of champagne and sparkling water, delicacies, and a big red cap-shaped cake.

—Great! The boss is here! Please, bring Niki in —you hear the HR director speak through the intercom as she looks your way, sounding so relieved, and a minute later, all of you start cheering as Niki enters the room.

You expect Toto to instantly leave your side and go near the big names of the company and his precious stylish drivers, but no, he stays right next to you.

As Niki almost reaches you two, getting hugs all his way down, he comes closer to Toto first and says in a low voice, but you are still able to hear him. —Is the cake vegan?! —looking concerned before tightly and roughly hugging him, knowing they would call him to blow out the candles and bite the cake soon.

—No, sir, this time they brought Lewis his own cake —you inform him, getting in the conversation, as the two of them turn to look at you.

—Oh, thank god! I almost spit out last year's "fake" cake! Hi Y/N! I didn't notice you there! This mountain was on the way —he pats Toto's chest a bit too strongly. Niki makes a funny face, eyebrows going up, not sugarcoating around as usual but earnest and light-spirited.

You laugh, exhaling cute sounds; even you have to admit you have a lovely, infectious laugh.

—Hi sir, happy birthday!

How on earth does Niki know my name?! He knows who I am?! WHAT...

—...the fuck were you thinking?! —Oliver looks shocked and pale as you update him and Rose about your little adventure today. —You honestly thought it could be Toto?!

—Can a girl have a dream?! —you shrug as you keep typing violently on your computer, wanting to finish that notice as soon as possible to move on to the next task, starting to feel stressed.

—You could have got into serious trouble, like big trouble, like getting fired trouble —Rose says, dead serious. —I feel terrible for enabling you!

—I know it was reckless and stupid, really stupid! —you admit, feeling dumb now about your actions.

God knows what got into you!

The next day, on your way to the cafeteria for lunch, you sense something is going on; everyone is acting weird.

Until you enter the room to find Toto having his meal in there, alone at a table, aware of the looks he is getting.

What is he doing here? He usually goes out for lunch or eats inside his office.

The fuck.

He waves a hand at you; you look around to see if he is addressing someone else till he arches an eyebrow, slightly annoyed, so you hurry up to reach him.

—Well, you weren't wrong! By all the looks I received on my way here, and fairly now, it appears I don't hang around much —he invites you to sit, stretching his arm, pointing to the chair in front of his, before continuing. —It wasn't unusual to see me everywhere before; of course, it was the early days, and we were a smaller team back then —he almost looked sad and nostalgic about it.

—Look at you, man of the people!

—Eat your salad —he rolls his eyes at you as you get your lunch out.

—Is that like a boss order, or?

—Maybe, if I'm feeling moody.

—So, I guess most of the old guard is gone?

—Are you low-hand calling me old?

—Well, how ancient are you?

—I'm almost 70 —he makes you smile and looks all pleased with himself and his dumb humor. —I know, I look good for 70!

—Who would have thought you had a sense of humor? You always look severe and bossy.

—Can you stop low-key insulting me?

—Neva'

After two weeks of having lunch with Toto and getting to know each other more every day, you two become friends; some days, a different person joins you; at some point, you can't believe you are sharing quinoa recipes with Lewis and comparing drinking pub stories with Niki.

—Is it me, or have you abandoned us, the peasants? —Oliver says to you when you return to the office.

—Oh, come on! You can join, you know that! He knows who you two are; we talk about you guys a lot, and he greets you daily!

—Now that you are part of the "big farts" table, hanging with the famous, why would you care about two random coworkers? —Rose overdramatizes.

—OH COME ON!

—Apparently, you don't care about the old and wise saying "Bros before hoes," —Oliver adds.

—Of course, I care about you two hoes. Please join us tomorrow. PLEASE?! —you beg them with the biggest smile and puppy eyes ever seen.

—Eating with the boss and talking to him? I'm not risking it! —Oliver says, dead honest, not trusting himself.

—He is trying to reconnect with the team; he isn't going to judge you! Besides, Toto knows you are my besties.

Two long "aw" come your way.

—That's so cute, but NO! —Rose ends the conversation.

As you admire the new bouquet of tulips you get delivered the next day, your phone suddenly buzzes on your desk, distracting you from finishing updating the chart with the latest data.

—Lunchtime already? 😩🥙

—Who this? 👀

—Luke, I'm your father.

—He dead 🙏🌫️

—Oh, shit, sorry! Bad joke!

—💀💀💀

—There's no need to be that explicit.

—It means dying of laughter!

—Oh, shit, I'm old, it's Toto By The Way.

—I'm saving you with that name! How did you get my number?

—By boss privilege.

—YES! LET'S LUNCH PLEASE! I'm Hungarian.

—What?

—Typo sorry, hungry!

—HA! See you in five! 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️

—Could going to lunch with someone at the cafeteria be considered a date? —you turn around in your office chair to address Oliver.

—Dreaming is free, bestie!

On your way to meet Toto, you bump into the most annoying senior engineer, Mr. Schäfer, in the corridor.

OH GOD! Please don't talk to me, please don't talk to me, you think as you two cross paths, but sadly, you notice him stop his step after making eye contact with you.

—Miss, Y/LN. A minute?

SHIT!

—Sorry I'm late! "Gwen Stefani" got me on my way here!

—Who? —Toto looks at you, amused and confused.

Shit! You burped out.

—Ahem, Mr. Schäfer —you quickly correct, taking your water bottle out of your bag and drinking it after rushing there. Toto stares at the couple of drops that escape your lips and slide down your chin and neck, and he swallows hard.

—What did you call him? —Toto asks, clearing his throat.

—Oh, don't mind me!

—Yes, mind you! It's a pretty accurate nickname, I must admit it, even if I shouldn't, but it fits —Toto shrugs nonchalantly, with a chuckle on his face.

Schäfer is really pretty, lean, blond, pale, has big bambi's brown eyes, and his voice is so annoying.

And now you feel embarrassed.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, as you two eat, Toto says: —Do I have a nickname?

—Oh, no, no one dares.

—Why? Do people fear me? —his expression changes to one of concern. —Maybe that would explain why people always seem to slow down their pace in the main corridor as soon as they see me inside the elevator. I always try to press the hold button to wait for them.

—This leaves me with a question: How do you fit in there? Your hair sure is touching the ceiling —he looks at you with an "Are you kidding me?" face. —No, for real!

—Don't avoid the actual question!

—Okay, okay, it's more like you intimidate. You look a bit, ahem, stern.

—Really? So, that was your first impression of me?

—Well, not really —you feel your cheeks turning red, fuck. —The first time I saw you, IRL.

—Sorry?

—In real life! You were being interviewed at the reception on that pearl/grey, awful porn movie-esque rug, which is inappropriate to say because the interviewer was a kid; anyway, It was something adorable to see. So that was my first impression of you, sweet and kind —his eyes soften at your answer, and you feel your knees touching beneath the table. —And also well lit —you joke.

As you do your best at not being honest and admitting to Toto, you fell in love with him the first time you saw him. It was instant.

—Oh.

Another week goes by, February starts, and the most stunning bouquet to this moment arrives. Okay, this one is a lot.

—Good lord, "Creepy Flower Guy" went full force with this one; what did you do to him?! —Rose asks, jaw on the floor as she stares at that humongous thing.

—I have no fucking clue.

—You think he is about to reveal himself? —Oliver points out. —Maybe this is a "going out with a BANG!".

—Honestly, I don't care much about it anymore —you admit. You feel several heads turning your way, shocked.

"It's not who I would like it to be," you think. You don't need to say more to know that Oliver and Rose get it.

That working day was cut short since it was the Monster-sponsored "Spartan Race," a cross-fit competition.

Many coworkers listed at the contest held outside on the garden grounds where a fancy circuit got built, but not you. You volunteered to help deliver the medals to the participants at the finish line.

In the meantime, you take a good spot with Oliver to watch the competition unfold and cheer for Rose.

—You go, Rambo! —you scream at her as she completes another obstacle course.

You watch Toto pass in those goddamn shorts, looking so hot, all sweaty. Toto's shirt's tight fabric on the skin leaves little to the imagination.

You meet him at the finish line an hour later, as you are now doing your duty. As soon as he notices you, he starts to jog in your direction with the most mischievous smile.

—Oh no, no, no! Don't you even...! —you receive the biggest and tightest hug from a sweaty, wet, and full of dirt and mud Toto.

—OH GOD! Get off! —you pull him away, making yucky faces.

—I was hoping to bump into you at the circuit! —he tells you, still with a lot of energy, as you place his gold medal on his neck, he is bending to your height.

—I'm not that sporty; you would have to drag me to the finish line.

—I would have gladly carried you around in these powerful arms! —he jokes while flexing.

You roll your eyes at him.

The next day, at your desk.

As you blast the newest episode of your favorite crime podcast, Rose and Oliver start making eye contact with you, trying to grab your attention, moving their eyes several times to the left as you take out your AirPods.

—WHAT?!

—Sure, those things cancel noise! I have spent about an hour trying to talk to you!

Oh shit, you jump a little at the sound of Toto's voice near your ear.

—Were you listening to a murder podcast? At work?! You are going to hurt your ears; I was able to hear it from here —Toto is leaning on the left side of your desk.

—Maybe... I was... —you look at him with squinted eyes, and he looks back at you the same way.

—What is that thing?! —Toto says, a bit disgusted at the exuberance, pointing to the enormous bouquet beside your computer.

—It's a long story —you try to avoid the subject.

—I want to hear it when I return. I will not join you at lunch today or the rest of the week.

—Bummer, where are you going then? —you turn in your chair to face him.

Everyone looks at you with a "Did you really ask the boss that?" face.

—Austria, It's my mom's birthday.

—Aw, sweet, wish her a happy birthday for me!

—I will —you look at each other tenderly, both wanting to say more. You suddenly feel the desperate need to hug Toto, but a simple: —See you next week, then! —comes out of your mouth, ending the interaction.

It's almost Valentine's Day, and Toto has returned from his little adventure in the mountains; he laughs when you text him that. You two talked even more than usual every day during his absence.

So you text him if you could go up to his office.

—Knock, knock —you say as you pop your head in at his door.

He brightens as he sees you, fully smiling at you, making your stomach feel butterflies.

—Please, come in!

You approach his desk, holding something in your hands; it's an envelope with an invitation in the old-fashioned way. —Hi! —you smile big at him. —I have the obligation to invite you to the traditional "Lonely Hearts Party" on Valentine's Day!

—No one wants the boss at an outside-the-office party —he looks at you a bit taken out.

—Yeah, I know, we know. But still, you are invited. It's for singles only, assuming that you are single, which no one thinks you are, so here —you feel Toto's hand touching yours as you deliver him the envelope, leaving you with a lingering sensation on your fingers, a very Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy moment in your delulu mind.

—I'm going to be in Brazil, but thank you anyway, and yes, I'm single —he pays attention to your reaction to his words, and you pray for him not to notice the little happy smile forming on your lips. —Are you... are you like... seeing someone? —he asks you.

—I'm going to attend the Lonely Hearts Party, you think?! Listen, my neighbor, Miss Tailor, is 80 and has a boyfriend; even that old rag has seen more action than me this year!

Toto's palm goes onto his face, bursting with laughter; he is laughing so hard at your comment that no sound comes out of his throat, just hallows of air, and he goes all red, not believing your words. —You are quite something! —He lets you know and looks at you with adoration, his face resting on his hand and his elbow on the desk.

—I know —you nod, kidding. —Anyway, have a nice day, and see you later!

During that day's lunch break, Toto demands you to explain to him in detail all about that "Creepy Flower Guy," he even ventures to guess who he is after listening to the whole story.

—Milo, Ben, and Ansel all have stared you down when you walk past in front of them, with lust obviously, and I heard Finn once complimenting your good looks to say it nicely —he informs you.

Is that jealousy you detect?

Toto does pay attention.

It's Wednesday, and your car is out in maintenance, so you make it extra early on that day at the office; you wanted to avoid risking it being late since you aren't used to using public transport to get there.

You make it just in time to witness Mike walking away from your desk inside your desert office through the glass panel wall from afar. As you walk to your chair, you notice new flowers are already in place. You feel your heartbeat going full speed and a wave of disappointment washing you over; what were you expecting, for it to really be Toto?

That entire day, you remain all moody and quiet, and your friends notice it, but you say nothing about it.

You even ask your boss to leave early, being unable to handle being near Toto today, which leaves him worried, judging by the four texts and two missed phone calls you received from him, wondering where you are and if everything is okay.

Four days later, you are like nothing has happened. As you walk your way to enter the building where you work, you notice Toto sitting alone in the distance, having a call; you slowly start to walk toward him, switching paths.

He finally has returned from his trip to Stuggart.

—Well, the "Creepy Flower Guy" saga has come to an end, my friend; I found out who he is —you inform him, unenthusiastic, as you sit on the bench in the pond's garden right next to him.

—You don't seem so excited —Toto's eyes look slightly concerned as he tells you.

—Well, no, to be honest.

—Drumrolls —Toto says, trying to lift your spirits, slapping his thighs, making the sound. —And the creep is?!

—Mike, from financial.

—Magic Mike?! —Toto lets out a bit too loud.

—Yep!

—Are you sure? Like 100%? But how?!

You nod. —I saw Mike near my desk in the early hours a couple of days ago, and the flowers were there as he was walking away from the crime scene! Also, by the drawer full of flower receipts at his office desk. They all match the types of bouquets I received and have the exact dates.

—Are you creeping around in people's offices again?

—WAIT A MINUTE! I wasn't creeping into your office!

—Oh no? What were you doing near my desk? Looking for Niki's cake?

—Shut up! I was looking for you.

—Yes, I love to hide myself in there —Toto playfully and softly pushes you.

—And NO! I wasn't creeping around in Mike's office; Anita sent me to get the notice she needed, and I went there; it turns out Mike was on holiday, but he left the instruction to collect it from the drawer on his desk, and then I opened the wrong drawer and BAMB! It was full of receipts and bills from the flower company that delivered my flowers. Not to be nosy, but Magic Mike is doing pretty well; I had no idea how expensive they were!

—Wait! But you aren't telling me! Are you into Magic Mike? Do you fancy him?

—No, not him, anyway.

Toto stares intensely at you and wants to say more. If you weren't so in the zone, you would have noticed it and given him a chance, but no, you continue blurting out words.

—But I will go and thank him, I guess. I don't want to hurt him; he is lovely. Everyone told me to go out on a date with him. I don't feel like it right now, but it's not always love at first sight, right? Maybe that doesn't even exist; I was expecting to fall in love, you know, movie style, but that may not be real, or at least not for girls like me. Besides, Valentine's Day is approaching, and I don't feel like spending it alone again —you let out a sigh after talking forever.

—Weren't you going to that Lonely Hearts Party? It sounds fun. It's better than going on a date with someone you don't like just to feel better —Toto tells you a bit moody.

—Oh god, I love you; you are always right; you are so annoying —you add while hugging and kissing him on the cheek. —Is there any chance I can fit in your suitcase for Brazil? I wouldn't mind spending Valentine's Day with a hot Brazilian or at the beach.

Toto laughs while shaking his head.

—I have to go! —you complain, checking the hour on your smartwatch. —Unfortunately, I have work to pretend to do!

—Sometimes I feel you forget I'm the boss here —he jokes with you as he crosses his arms and watches you walk backward, still facing him, getting further away.

—YES SIR!

It's the Wednesday before Valentine's Day, and to everyone's surprise, the flowers stop arriving.

"Did Toto tell Mike I don't like him and to stop sending me flowers?" You take out your phone to text him.

—Apparently, even "Creepy Flower Guy" gave up on me.

—Really?! —Toto replies.

—Yes. No flowers today.

He gives you no further information, no replying text comes your way.

It's Valentine's Day, and you are wearing a shiny red mini dress with matching bow heels to the Lonely Hearts Party.

You took your time doing your makeup, which you feel you nailed, and your hair looks sleek.

As you check yourself in the mirror, you feel confident and hot!

After several drinks and enjoying the music and the vibe, you relish the party, but your mind keeps wandering to the anticlimactic ending of the flower guy mystery.

The only crime and murder here was the one of your feelings and heart.

Two hours later, you start to feel bummed out enough after witnessing many hookups and new couples forming, slightly envious of them and feeling lonelier than ever, aching that Toto was here with you instead of Brazil. You decide you've had enough and are about to leave when you feel a soft finger tap on your right shoulder. You turn around to see who it is.

Definitely, you aren't ready for the scene that greets you.

Toto is standing right before you, holding a bouquet in his hands, looking extremely handsome, with a shy smile on his lips.

—What are you doing here?! —you look astonished at him. Am I that drunk?! Thinking you are seeing things now.

—I felt like delivering them to you in person from now on —he offers you the roses.

Your brain takes its time to process his words and what's happening. This is really happening.

—You are? —you try to say and instinctively grab the bouquet.

—The Creepy Flower Guy, yes.

You laugh at the sound of the nickname on his lips.

—Let's call him "flower guy" from now on.

—Yeah, let's call him Toto better, or my love, if you prefer. I hope you aren't as disappointed this time.

—But Mike? —you ask, confused.

—Have you ever heard of the terms invoice and tax returns? He does my accounting, too. Mike helped me deliver the flowers till I felt ready to show myself. He is a long friend of mine.

—That's why he had all the receipts; that makes sense. Wait!

You close the distance between Toto and you and place a kiss on his lips; getting on your tiptoes, he slowly and hungrily starts kissing you more, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer, not letting you move an inch away from him.

—Thank you for the flowers, my love but weren't you supposed to be in Brazil by now? —you ask him as you both catch your breaths.

His lips are so soft and warm.

—Oh, I'm going to be in Brazil soon, but I forgot to mention to you that you would also be there. Happy Valentine's Day, my love! —he gives you another long and delicious kiss.

—Shouldn't I have packed? —you ask against his lips, already overthinking.

Toto shakes his head.

—We aren't going to need much clothes, anyway. -

Would you like to read another fic?

My Toto Woff fics > Masterlist

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wonderfulwonderrful · 3 months

Text

Season of Love (5/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you told Toto, "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That was the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong. Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader team principal. Genre: Romance, comedy, and some good drama. Author's note: Sorry for the long absence; I had a rocky start to the year, but it is all good now! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Do not worry, I will read you soon *wink, wink*

Dances with Wolff Arc Chapter 5: Cold tires, warm heart

The weather stays cold all day long at Silverstone; the crisp air bites your skin, causing shivers down your spine, and your breath forms small clouds before you as you walk briskly to the campsite area where the luxury motorhomes & RVs are parked, yours included, huddled in layers of warm clothing, feeling drained as the rest of the grid feels, seeking an opportunity to lay down and rest.

Everyone warned you the mid-season was tough on the body, and they were right! As you drag yourself inside your luxurious, trendy, and sophisticated RV. The sleek and clean design aesthetic greets you; it's a zen monochromatic color scheme space full of high-end finishes, innovative storage solutions, elegant sofas, and a large comfy bed with a kitchenette and bathroom, creating the perfect getaway place for you away of the chaos at the paddock.

You share your location and access code with Toto, but he doesn't reply to your text. You assume he must be busy, so you fall soundly asleep on the bed there until you feel a pair of muscular arms hug and softly spoon you, half-waking you up.

You feel Toto's firm body against yours, with no inch of space between you two, as he wraps you in a tender and affectionate display of intimacy; your bodies intertwine as he seeks your warmth.

—I missed you so much —you turn to tell him, kissing him softly. —It feels wrong not having you by my side —you find the courage to let Toto know how you felt these past days without him, breaking the room's quietness, then burying your face in his neck, feeling shy and vulnerable and softly smooching it.

He caresses your cheek with his index finger and slowly kisses your lips, leaving you breathless after a few minutes.

Toto seems exhausted as you peek at him while patiently waiting for him to comment on your confession, but he only looks pensively at your words as he rests his temple on yours. You sense his right hand caressing down your arm on its way to hold your hand. Then he pulls you closer to his chest, where you get cozy and fall asleep again.

One text, two texts, five texts.

—She is not answering —Michael says, a bit taken out.

One call, two calls, five calls.

—He is not answering —Niki says, quite concerned.

Once again, you wake up after a bit, feeling dozy and disoriented as you hear an iPhone ringing in the distance, still nestled in Toto's embrace, overwhelmed with tranquility and happiness but fucking annoyed at that damn ringtone.

The softness of the bed, the heat of Toto's closeness, and the gentle rise and fall of his breaths make it a cozy heaven you don't want to leave, but that goddamn annoying phone doesn't let you nap and is about to wake him up too, and you want him to rest.

So you bravely drag yourself to your feet, hating life, and walk straight to Toto's duffel travel bag to search for his iPhone buzzing inside. To your surprise, you find it next to a torn and used voucher for "Cocktails for 2" at The Savoy Hotel in London, along with his passport.

As you pick up his phone to turn it off, you wake it and notice that Toto still hasn't changed his wallpaper; he appears there posing in a pottery studio couple session, all smiley, with Susie wrapped in his arms, both of them looking in love and joyful as the professional camera lens captures their handsomeness, they look like they belong together.

You can't avoid the sting of pain and insecurity washing you over, but you take the thought off. It's probably nothing, you try to convince yourself. So you finish turning his phone off and leaving it where you found it.

Then you turn off yours, ignoring all the red bubbles in it, on your way back to Toto's arms. All you want right now is him and you, and fuck the rest of the world. This "relationship," if you can call it that, is meant to crash soon, so you want to hang on to it as much as possible.

Two hours have passed since then, and Toto's hands are now roaming across your back, guiding your movements as you are in a cowgirl position on him. At the same time, his tongue dances erotically with your tongue, adding a sweet and sinful layer to your passionate embrace.

Your moans echo throughout the RV, blending perfectly with the rhythmic creaking of the bed frame beneath you. Toto's breathing grows heavier as you ride him hungrily, showing how much you miss him.

As he explores your curves, Toto begs you: —Bounce on my cock —with a voice husky with desire and with trembling hands, and you give him what he craves, exploding with pleasure as each time more desperately you go up and down his shaft.

Your nipples stiffen, them peeking out from beneath the fabric of your dress; this time, you didn't even care to take all of your clothes off; they were begging for his attention. Toto can't resist it; he leans in, pulls down the upper part of your dress, and captures one in his mouth, sucking it gently as his tongue teases its sensitive tip.

—Oh, God! —you cry, arching your back with pleasure. —That feels heavenly.

Toto releases your breast, looking up at you with a sultry grin. —Wait till it's my turn to show you how much I missed you —he purrs, hands dancing all over your ass.

As you are about to reach an orgasm, you can't escape the guilty thought in the back of your mind. —We shouldn't even be here, less doing this —you say in between tiny breaths and moaning a bit. —It was irresponsible for me to text you to come over —you protest weakly. —This could be no good for our careers —releasing a big moan as you finish the sentence, not being able to stop rocking yourself on Toto, moving now your hips in circles. His dick is so hard, and it feels so delicious all the way inside you.

Toto shrugs nonchalantly, then growls, his eyes smoldering lustfully, enjoying the sight of you going all over him. —I was planning to look for you anyway. Do you want us to stop and leave? —he replies, out of breath.

—No.

Toto gives you an "I agree" in the form of thrust, hitting you with such force that causes you to scream out in pleasure and unstabilize you, making you quickly place both of your hands on his chest to not fall on his face.

Then, his strong arms wrap you around the waist, holding you steady as he moves in rhythmic strokes that push your boundaries. Each withdrawal leaves you craving more, and each entry pleases you; he starts speeding up, making you moan out his name many times as the sounds of your body colliding fill the air. It's a symphony of pure passion.

—You make me feel so... complete... and free... and loved —You gasp out, voice shaking as Toto's powerful thrusts drive you deeper into the realm of satisfaction.

For some reason, feelings are bursting out of you in the form of words lately, freeing your thoughts without thinking much about the repercussions, being weirdly open and sincere for once in your life. Maybe it's because your period is near, and you always feel more emotional around that time; you lie to yourself, not wanting to admit falling for him because you know it will hurt more when it's over, which is sadly approaching.

It's not only the sexual part that makes you feel so whole with him. It's also his small displays of affection, his caring texts every morning to know how you slept, to let you know you are one of his first thoughts of the day, or the long conversations about anything you two share, the pictures you send to each other of the most mundane things to share life.

That makes you always feel him present and being taken care of. Also, the many times you advise each other, from billionaire businessman to billionaire businesswoman, or the quiet moments when you two are silently wrapped in each other's arms, just enjoying your presence and bodies.

—Toto, I'm so close! —you moan loud as he manhandles you around; you feel yourself dripping and so warm, like your pussy is burning. Your pussy folds, rubbing around Toto's shaft, who positions himself to pound you against the mattresses.

Then you feel him shifting his entire weight on you, topping you, and placing his thumb finger inside your mouth for you to suck it. —Then cum for me —he whispers, hot against your ear. He starts to fuck you hard like that, making your ass wable, and the bed squeaks so loud as he pins you down against the sheets, but all get muffled by the sounds he is provoking you to release. You feel a bit of pain in your hips and lower back as he slaps hard against you.

With a big moan, you cum all over him, all red and sweaty.

Toto has never had this before, someone so willing to please him, in all senses, someone so light-spirited and carefree. He is trying so hard not to fall for you, too. You please him like no one else in bed but also outside of it. You are the whole fucking package.

If change didn't fright him, he would be willing to try.

He would venture for more if he weren't so scared of failure.

Toto feels a responsibility for Susie and her feelings and heart; she counts on him for this, and Toto has never missed his duties since he was a young man, even if his heart desires something else.

He ended up agreeing to try the "open relationship thing" after saying no to it at first and breaking things with Susie because she showed up very distressed one night at his hotel room door, crying and saying how much she still loves him and how hard this is, that he shouldn't punish her for not wanting children. Toto felt so guilty; that wasn't his intention, but what if she was right?

But you happened in the middle of this. By accident or destiny is a cruel joker. This fling started like that, and it was supposed to stay there, not this.

He pays attention to you more than you think; he has noticed the meaning and sentiment of your words lately and can't avoid feeling guilty for not being as open and honest as you deserve and how you are being. But Toto knows you will end it as soon as he lets you know you are his free pass on an open relationship agreement, so he is hanging on to you as much as possible. It's selfish and wrong, but he doesn't know how to quit you, how to say no to this, how to say goodbye.

Only if Toto knew.

Only if you knew.

—Is Torger still in London?! —Niki asks out loud, now absolutely annoyed, addressing Sam in the middle of the circus inside the Mercedes garage as he tries to manage everyone for the opening ceremony of the F1 anniversary race, set to start in about 20 minutes.

Toto is always on time and never misses something without previous notice; this is uncharacteristic. Niki hadn't seen him all day; they had different schedules.

Lewis and George are scheduled to make donuts driving along with the other grid drivers. They all will do the same simultaneously to create a fog while AC/DC performs on a high-stage platform.

—Toto is here. I saw him a couple of hours ago. His phone seems out of reach —Sam has sworn never to lie to Niki. She quickly picks up her phone to call you, knowing you are also missing after being asked for the fourth time by several Williams team members if she had seen you around. WHAT A COINCIDENCE! It is evident for her where you two are.

Since you don't answer the texts she bombards you with, she takes action and puts her feet in motion.

"You can't act this recklessly!" Sam thinks and looks visibly irritated. People are going to start wondering, especially when you two idiots arrive late with "we just fucked" hair and satisfied expressions at the paddock, and God forbids you two to show up together at the same time! Or worse, you two do not arrive at all.

Sam shows up at your RV's door, almost tearing it down, betting Toto and you were in there this whole time.

—Are you mental?! —Sam tells you, looking stressed, as the door's mechanism finishes opening.

—I'm sorry —you honestly apologize, knowing quite well what she refers to.

—Niki is furious! —she informs you, still at the bottom of the stairs and out of the RV's entrance, with no visible intention to come in. —Toto is still in there? —she asks in a low voice, pointing with her head.

You nod.

She comes closer to you, almost whispering to your ear. —Please don't get offended. I love you, but I know you are not here because of the sport, nor do you care which team wins or not; I know this is not your actual job. But please, could you...

You interrupt Sam, finishing for her in a sad tone. —Not interfere?

—I... —Sam sighs; she doesn't want to blame you or make you feel bad; she gets it, knows what you are going through, and wants more than anyone else for you to be happy. —Listen, our team is working its ass off; there are thousands of us relying on performing the best, and this is our livelihood; it worries me that this could...

—It won't happen again; I get it. I know we acted unprofessional. Sam, you understand how hard it has been for me... I'm just... I'm just trying to enjoy life for the first time, to feel happy and free for once; YES! I'm sorry it wasn't the place or the moment, but...

—I know, I know —she quickly adds. —Listen —Sam gets a little nervous and hesitates before adding. —I think you two, really, should talk openly and honestly about your "situation." I don't wish any of you hurt. Please talk —she sounds insistent, which worries you a bit.

—Yeah. Okay. I agree.

—Are you showing up for this Massi's wet dream? —Sam tries to lift the mood and return to the main topic.

—Toto is —you inform her. —He is finishing getting ready in the bathroom. I'm not. I will watch it at the hotel —now is your turn to come closer to Sam's ear and whisper. —I have to prepare for the call; Pascal set the meeting at 2 a.m., and we will rerun the scenario.

—It's good to know; I hope it all goes as planned and well —Sam says, looking relieved as she hugs you goodbye and leaves before bumping into Toto.

Toto claims "food poisoning" to excuse himself and that he spent hours feeling nauseous at his motorhome, as he makes it just in time at the garage. It's a white lie everyone buys. Actually, this happened once to him in Spain after going out for dinner.

Niki notices he has far too much color on his cheeks, for that matter, but chooses to let it go. Toto has been far more than responsible for many years, which has significantly cost him a lot in his personal life; Niki feels he deserves and needs some recklessness and happiness in his life. So, he plays along.

He softly pats Toto's shoulder and gives him a small smile as he sits beside him at the workstation and places his headphones and gear on.

The show is about to start.

The F1 anniversary's opening ceremony is the most glamorous affair! Bringing together a star-studded guest list of celebrities, like every big name, is there.

And there are way too many influencers wandering around the garages for Michael's likes; he lets you know as soon as you call him back, excusing yourself for leaving the circuit, calling it a personal emergency.

Minutes later, you turn on your hotel room's TV to watch the start of the ceremony. A spectacular video mapping and drone display showcases the sport's rich history on the circuit track. It displays iconic footage on the many kilometers of asphalt as broadcast to millions of viewers worldwide.

This is followed by a visually captivating driver's parade in which current drivers donned old-fashioned racing suits representing different eras of their teams, paying homage to the evolution of the sport as they get driven around interloped with cars with performers giving it all and working the crowds, till they make it to the main stage, where AC/DC comes out to close the show.

In the middle of their set, all the grid drivers exhibit their coordination skills, making donuts together as the cherry on the cake, leaving fans ecstatic. You must admit it looked so cool. Massi must be shitting his pants!

Your room service order comes just in time as the race starts; you asked for too many desserts and sweets along with your salmon; you are feeling low and are taking comfort in the delicious food you savor, an unhealthy habit of yours, eating your feelings.

Toto let you know before leaving, in between kisses, that he was attending a Mercedes team dinner after the race to celebrate with the team so that you would be sleeping alone tonight. You were so grateful for it, avoiding the trouble of making out an excuse to be able to attend the late-night meeting in private.

Sam is right; you aren't taking any of this seriously enough.

The entire Mercedes team gathers in one of the most glamorous and lavish restaurants in London, "Amazónico." It is the coolest place Sam has been in a while, full of foliage-festooned walls and decor inspired by the rainforest of Brazil. Gorgeous velvets, greenery environments, and deco touches give the place an exotic yet luxurious vibe.

The mechanics and engineers, usually in their sports attire, look sharp in elegant outfits, and the mood is ON! Drinks flow as Toto gives a motivational speech to start the night, congratulating the team for their performance so far and inspiring them to give their all to secure the championship, acknowledging the fierce competition from Williams and Ferrari.

Susie and Toto are by the bar; she is sitting on the stool with her arms resting on the shoulders of a standing Toto as they chat, almost mouth-on-mouth, looking joyful.

Niki looks bemused as he watches them from afar, already sitting at the main large table the venue arranged for them and where they are about to have dinner. He addresses Sam, sitting to his right, without moving his gaze from the couple. —Weren't they..?

—Apparently, they are not —Sam gives him a look as she looks for something in her purse.

Niki looks as disappointed and surprised as she is as he nods to her, lets out a small, barely audible sigh, and sips his bourbon.

As Sam gets hammered with Bono and Annalise, Toto reaches them at the booth near the back of the place. He stays on his feet, waiting for them to finish their round of shots on a spinner wheel, and then bends to talk to a very comfortable, sitting, and tipsy-looking Sam with pink-red cheeks.

—What are your plans for tomorrow? —he asks her a bit loud, over the set the DJ is playing.

—Nothing, just chilling and recovering from this night; why?

—To hang out and tourist around, like we always do or did, how about that?

—Aw, you miss me, asshole?

—You are a necessary evil, but yeah, I miss you.

—Why does everyone seem so emotional lately? I hope it's not contagious.

—We have lots to catch on to; I feel it's been ages and pure work between us.

—Please tell me if it's terminal.

—No, you moron, I'm totally fine —he swings his hand a bit too hard, spilling some of his drink.

"Then tell your eyes, liar! Yeah, all drunk at a work event? Sure, you are TOTALLY fine," Sam thinks. —I'm free, then. Will she join us?

—Who? —Toto looks taken off guard, thinking of you instead of Susie, whom Sam refers to.

—Sus, since she is around again.

—Sam, I...

—Oh, no, it's none of my business. I would rather it that way; I'm just asking.

—No, she isn't; it will be just us.

—Good —she ends the conversation.

"Is Sam mad at me? She sounded like it." Toto thinks. It's always hard to read her.

As the night is about to end and everyone seems drunk, Toto comes to cool down and relax after being forced to hit the dance floor against his will. He is not feeling it tonight, so he chooses to sit next to Niki and chat with him.

Toto is not on his usual dumb and lively drunk ass; he is weirdly somber. In the middle of their casual conversation, Niki asks him: —So, who changed their mind? —knowing what's up as he looks at Susie dance with George.

—About?

—Having children.

There is a long silence while Toto looks at Susie, laughing and throwing some moves around the dancefloor.

—I'm giving it a try.

Niki slowly nods and says nothing, and Toto stares at him. He recognizes Niki's disappointed face when he sees it, and Toto takes another big sip of his drink, swallowing hard.

You wake up late the following day after falling asleep around 5 a.m. once the call ends, feeling emotionally drained and not wanting to leave the bed. But when in Rome, you mean London. Nothing will lift your spirits more than going shopping; you are a shoes and purses maniac, and that new Miu Miu collection screams your name.

You are in the middle of buying half of Harrods when you receive a text from Toto.

"I won't be able to stay with you these days as I was hoping, I'm expected at Brackley. See you on the weekend. I miss you already."

Great, just what you needed.

Still in the UK

The British GP is here! And most of you already feel like you had enough Silverstone already.

Since Lewis swept the floor with everyone on the anniversary race, a similar result is expected for this weekend.

The FIA calls you all into one of the now traditional meetings, but this time around, Massi is expected to join in.

So when you arrive at that sad meeting room, he is standing right there next to the door; you are the last one to join, so he is facing you while waiting for you to finish stepping in to close the door after you, and you don't let go an opportunity like that.

As you step in, you hand him your coat and purse as if he were the receptionist and thank him, motioning to tip him as the entire room laughs.

Massi looks so confused and appalled at you, getting taken entirely off guard, but follows along, not knowing what else to do, or if you are serious or just messing around, still holding your things in his hands, and places your coat on the hanger and your purse on the empty chair next to yours.

—The nerve —Sebastian tells you in a low voice and takes a discrete bow at you with his hands as you sit on your chair next to his. Vettel is hiding behind Charles in the row in front of him, trying so hard not to burst out laughing. Both your eyes sparkle as your looks lock and smile at each other. Seb has the most gorgeous eyes on earth.

Then the meeting starts.

After being freed from that, you are walking down the pitlane on your way to free practice, chatting and fooling around with Carlos, Lando, and Mick, but suddenly, you stop just meters away from the Mercedes' slot.

Lewis and George join you as soon as they notice you guys and come out of their garage, staring amusedly at a very frozen you as they reach you.

—Is that..? —you say, peeking inside the Merc's garage. —Oh, my God! Is that ROGER FEDERER?! —you let out in a funny and pitchy little scream.

George starts to laugh behind his hand, covering his mouth. You sound hilarious, and he looks at you in delight as you act all star-struck. Who would tell?

Carlos takes a few steps nearer you and closes your mouth, softly pushing your chin up with his index finger. —You are drooling —he jokes.

You go all red, tomato red, as you return to your senses.

Lewis sees the perfect opportunity for mayhem. —Oh, I'm so introducing you two! —He returns to the garage as quickly as possible to look for Roger.

—WHAT!? NONO! —you say way too loud as you watch him go, causing a couple of mechanics to raise their heads and look your way.

Lewis abruptly interrupts the engaging conversation Federer is having with Toto.

You start hyperventilating as Lewis walks alongside Roger straight in your direction. Toto observes the scene from the distance, with his muscular arms crossed. You feel his dark eyes on you.

You can't even form a greeting sentence when the Swiss introduces himself to you. A funny sound comes from your lips that sounds like a "Hi!"

Millie looks at you, astonished, as she comes closer with Normani after the guys pointed at her with their hands and arms a "Come see this, please." She pivots her gaze from you to Normani and back with an "I think she broke" expression.

Meanwhile, your brain goes: "Roger is tall, hot, hot. Jesus, that smile! Is that chest real? Oh god, don't you dare peek down at his grey sweatpants!" as you stand there like an idiot without moving or saying something.

There are a couple more seconds of pure and awkward silence till Lando's stupid, mocking little laugh gets you out of your trance. Oh, the group is living for this!

—Delighted to meet you, Roger. I'm Y/N!

The group burst out laughing at your expense, enjoying the spectacle from afar, watching you try to act human around Federer until he turns his head their way. Now, they are all gathered together, sensing their stares, and the group quickly goes apart, acting like nothing has happened, returning to their activities.

—Is it me, or is Wolff not enjoying their interaction? —Normani asks Millie as they both intertwine arms and walk away together.

—Toto!? —Millie turns her head, looking back at a serious-looking Austrian inside the garage. —I don't think so. He always looks serious. I guess it's just his resting face, but he is such a cinnamon roll.

—A cinnamon roll? What language do you speak?

—English, Miss Posh Britain Got Talent.

Normani rolls her eyes at her. She is bonkers.

—In my defense... —you start to tell the table later, as all of you try to fit into a tiny table in the McLaren cafeteria; this time, Lando is sponsoring the lunch, and as you munch your veggies wrap.

—There's no defense —Carlos mocks you.

You toss your arms in the air, mouth still full of food, to protest as everyone laughs again at your interaction with Federer.

—We witnessed one of your canonic events —Mick jokes, making Millie almost fall from her half of the chair they are sharing.

—Oh, it was hilarious —Lewis adds.

—A masterpiece —Lando admits. —That coming from me —he points at himself with a thumb finger. —It means A LOT.

You finish passing the food and clear out your throat before continuing. —In my defense, Roger was wearing the slutiest thing a man could wear, and my brain was trying to process it.

All the boys look inquisitive at you with a please tell us more face.

—The grey sweatpants! —Millie and Normani answer for you simultaneously, agreeing with your statement.

—See! —you give them all a funny face.

—I still don't get it —Lando says.

—OH GOD! Go put on a pair of grey pantsuits and look down at your dick, and tell us —Sam teases him, done with him.

—Don't you remember that viral Lewis "I have an anaconda down here" mirror Instagram selfie with the grey sweatpants? —Millie says.

—That a friend told you about! —Seb jokes, addressing Millie.

—THAT A FRIEND OF HERS TOLD HER ABOUT! That that friend isn't me —Normani joins in the fun.

—With all due respect, Sir —Millie adds, looking at Lewis, who is laughing and trying to hide his red face in the gap his flexed arms are creating, lying on the table's surface.

—So... Do you like your men in grey sweatpants? Good thing I have four of those to wear —Lando tells you, moving his eyebrows suggestively up and down several times.

—OH GOD, PLEASE NOT! —the entire table screams.

Toto joins you that night in your hotel room; the two of you don't feel like doing anything fancy; just spend the evening together. After playing a competitive round of "Talk, Flirt, and Dare," as you stack up the board game cards for the next round, he asks you. —So, Tennis? Of all sports... Tennis?!

—Yeah, it's fun! —you slowly approach Toto; he is sitting on the rug next to the game placed on the coffee table between you in the living area, looking comfortable, relaxed, and shirtless after taking a dare card, currently only wearing his briefs.

You slide a hand on his neck and chest before sitting on his lap, facing him. He wraps your waist with his toned arms and pulls you closer. Whispering against your lips —How?

—Well

—If you say so... —he shrugs. —For me, it's boring; there's not much adrenaline in it.

—Well, not all sports have to be lethal, you know? I thought you would like it since it is fast-paced —you make a thinking gesture by rubbing your chin.

—You have seen him play?

—Who? —you reply, trying to act dumb.

—Federer —he says pretty sternly.

—Several times, yeah.

—Are you one of those girls who follow him around? He told me about his groupies —he teases, but there is a jealous undertone.

—What? No, no. I don't like him like that.

Toto gives you a look that you read as "Really, girl? Closed fist, big long acrylic nails." —Uhm! If I remember correctly, you went all over him today; I think I have never seen you smile that big before —he adds. —You must look delighted in those selfies you took with him before you gave him that private tour of the Williams garage. Did he really get into the car? He passed with us. Did he like the driver's helmet you gifted him?

How on earth did Toto know about all that? That man has eyes everywhere.

—Hey, listen, I met one of my heroes FOR THE FIRST TIME and, AND, I got a bit excited! —you comb your hair with your hand. Toto's eyes can't avoid peeking at your tits as they wiggle with your arm movement. You also ended up shirtless; that sheer bra leaves nothing to the imagination.

Then he arches an eyebrow at your answer. A "bit excited" is downplaying. —He made you lose words, at first, then got you all over him, but sure "a bit excited", so, he looks better up close, or..?

—AND I got carried away. I admit it was a little embarrassing —Yep, Toto is envious. —He is okay, yeah. Are you jealous?

—Yes, completely —he purrs dangerously against your mouth, and you feel his warm breath brushing your lips. —Lucky for me, that guy is off the market —he looks intensely at you.

You kiss Toto, melting for him inside. —I wouldn't pick him over you —you pause to reassure him and keep kissing him. —I wouldn't pick anyone else over you —more kissing. —You are all I want.

Toto reacts weirdly. He gives you a look you don't know how to read; it's full of devotion, but there's something else, like anger. Is he that possessive, or is there something else?

You feel like following Sam's advice, and this may be the perfect moment for it.

But he senses you are about to open a conversation he isn't ready to have. Toto hates himself for it, so he quickly and softly moves you to get on his feet and asks you if you want another glass of wine. He is already taking your glass and walking to the winery, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

To be continued... - Masterlist | Coming soon...

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