Max Verstappen Masterlist

Toto Wolff Masterlist.

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*gif not mine*

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

⌗ After All This Time

𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖤𝖱 𝖮𝖭𝖤

- in which Toto reunites with his ex-wife after four years, reigniting old emotions at a gala.

⌗ 𝖠𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖠𝗅𝗅 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖳𝗂𝗆𝖾

𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖤𝖱 𝖳𝖶𝖮

-in which toto reflects on their 20-year marriage, the love they shared, and the mistakes that led to their divorce, wondering if a second chance is possible.

𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒

⌗ Spilled Coffee

HERE

- in which toto clashes with his bold new assistant, sparking tension and unexpected chemistry.

⌗ Winter Steps

HERE

- in which toto surprises his partner with a romantic Christmas walk and a meaningful gift.

⌗ A Night with a Sick Toto (and his Clingy Texts)

HERE

- in which toto battles a “deadly cold” at home while his wife attends a gala.

⌗ Wolff in the Paddock

HERE

- in which toto’s family teams up to outwit him in the paddock, creating chaos and laughs for everyone.

⌗ Downshift

HERE

- in which toto seems distracted with a certain… Ferrari engineer and everyone is noticing that.

⌗ Too Wide a Divide

HERE

- in which love strained by disapproval ends in heartbreak as Toto chooses to let go for her family’s sake.

⌗ The Time We Almost Lost

HERE

-in which toto wolff forgets one of the most important days in your relationship.

⌗ A Thousand Cuts

HERE

- a “illicit affairs” by taylor swift fanfiction.

⌗ Birthday Surprise

HERE

- in which for toto birthday, his wife plans a private surprise, with decorations of balloons and soft lighting.

Toto Wolff with wife reader. Him being menace in the paddock and their son, Jack just shaking his head at his dad's antics. Clearly fed up. Then teamed up with his mama against his papa. While everyone is just entertained by it. . You decide how it goes. Thanks!! :))

Wolff in the Paddock

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pairing: toto wolff x wife!reader (feat. Jack)

summary: toto wolff’s antics in the paddock reach new levels when his son, Jack, teams up with you to play pranks on him. The result? Chaos, laughter, and a reminder that even the boss isn’t safe from his family’s mischief.

warnings: fluff !!

The paddock was alive with its usual buzz, a hum of engines, chatter, and flashing cameras. In the midst of it all, Toto Wolff was striding around like he owned the place—well, technically, part of it. His deep voice carried over the noise as he barked orders, waved at cameras, and threw the occasional wink in your direction.

Jack, your seven-year-old son, walked by your side, a miniature replica of his father in looks but already wise enough to shake his head at Toto’s antics.

—Why is he like this? —Jack muttered, shooting his dad a skeptical look as Toto dramatically gestured at the Mercedes garage while explaining some technical detail to an engineer.

You smirked. —Your dad’s always like this in the paddock. You know that.

Jack sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in a move that was far too adult for his age. —It’s embarrassing. Does he have to be so… extra?

Before you could respond, Toto turned toward the two of you, his face lighting up like a kid spotting his favorite toy.

—Ah, meine Liebe! —he called out, striding over. —And my little man! Have you come to watch me dominate the paddock?

Jack rolled his eyes so hard you thought they might get stuck.

The chaos started not long after.

Toto decided it would be funny to challenge Jack to a pit stop drill. The mechanics, clearly amused, set up a miniature tire-changing station just for Jack.

—I’ll go easy on you. —Toto said, crouching next to his son and ruffling his hair.

—Don’t patronize me. —Jack shot back, glaring at him.

The crew laughed as Toto, utterly unfazed, leaned in closer. —Oh? Big words for a little guy. Let’s see if you can back them up.

Jack looked up at you, exasperated. —Mama, are you going to let him talk to me like that?

You crossed your arms, fighting a smile. —I don’t know, Jack. He seems pretty confident. Are you going to let him win?

Jack’s eyes narrowed. —No way.

The drill commenced, with Jack fumbling adorably with the small tools while Toto exaggerated every movement of his own performance, hamming it up for the audience that had gathered.

When Toto inevitably “won,” he stood up, arms raised like he’d just won a Grand Prix. —And that, my son, is how you dominate a pit stop!

Jack groaned and turned to you. —Mama, we have to do something about him.

It didn’t take long for you and Jack to hatch a plan.

When Toto wasn’t looking, Jack snuck into the hospitality area and swapped his father’s usual black coffee for decaf. Meanwhile, you coordinated with a few team members to have Toto’s chair replaced with one that squeaked every time he moved.

The results were immediate.

Toto took a sip of his coffee, paused, and frowned. —What is this? It tastes… weak.

Jack shrugged innocently. —Maybe you’re just not as strong as you think you are, Papa.

Toto narrowed his eyes but didn’t respond, distracted by the squeaking of his chair as he sat down for a meeting. He shifted once. Squeak. Twice. Squeak.

By the fifth squeak, Toto’s face was a picture of annoyance, while Jack could barely contain his laughter.

You leaned against the wall, casually sipping your drink. —Is everything okay, dear?

Toto shot you a suspicious look. —Did you two…

—Us? —you interrupted, feigning innocence. —Why would we do anything?

Jack grinned. —Yeah, Papa. Why would we?

By midday, the entire paddock was in on the joke. Mechanics chuckled as they watched Toto glance warily at his coffee cup, and drivers smirked as they passed him squeaking his way through meetings.

At one point, Lewis Hamilton walked by and patted Jack on the shoulder. —Nice work, kid. Keep him on his toes.

Toto eventually cornered the two of you in the hospitality area.

—You’ve turned the paddock against me. —he accused, though his lips twitched with suppressed laughter.

Jack crossed his arms, mirroring his father’s stance. —Maybe next time you’ll think twice before embarrassing me in public.

Toto glanced at you. —And you? Are you part of this rebellion?

—Of course. —you said, leaning up to kiss his cheek. —It’s called teamwork. You should try it sometime.

By the end of the day, Toto was back to his usual self, though he couldn’t resist pulling Jack into a bear hug, despite the boy’s protests.

—You might win today. —Toto said, ruffling Jack’s hair again. —but remember, I’m still the boss.

Jack smirked. —For now.

As the three of you walked back to the car, the paddock still buzzing with laughter from the day’s antics, Toto slipped an arm around your waist.

—I suppose I should be grateful. —he said. —You two make life interesting.

You smiled. —Just returning the favor.

Jack groaned. —Please stop being sappy. You’re embarrassing me again.

And with that, the Wolff family left the paddock, leaving behind a trail of laughter and a reminder that even in the high-stakes world of F1, family came first.

Behind the Armor

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pairing: clarisse la Rue x fem!reader (no specific cabin)

summary: clarisse la rue is known for her strength and toughness, but when it’s just the two of you, she lets down her guard—and you wouldn’t trade those moments for anything.

a/n: its quite short but i needed to write about my wife clarisse 🤭

The training arena was quiet, the faint glow of the evening sun casting long shadows over the cracked floor. Clarisse stood in the center, her spear leaning against the wall, her hands on her hips as she watched you approach.

—You’re late. —she said, though her usual sharp tone was softened by a faint smirk.

—I was helping Chiron. —you replied, stopping a few feet away from her. —Besides, it’s not like you needed me here to win.

Clarisse snorted, rolling her eyes. —Yeah, well, maybe I just like having you around to witness my victories.

You smiled, stepping closer. —Or maybe you just like having me around.

Her smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by something softer, something vulnerable that she rarely let anyone see. —Don’t push your luck. —she muttered, but there was no heat in her words.

You took another step, closing the distance between you until you were standing just inches apart. Her eyes searched yours, and you could feel the tension in the air—an unspoken truth that neither of you had been brave enough to say out loud.

—I like seeing you like this. —you said softly.

Clarisse raised an eyebrow. —Like what? Sweaty and tired?

You shook your head, your smile gentle. —No. Relaxed. Just… you.

For a moment, she said nothing, her usual bravado melting away as she reached out to take your hand. Her calloused fingers were rough against yours, but her touch was careful, almost hesitant.

—You’re not what I expected. —she admitted, her voice quiet. —I didn’t think I’d ever… —She trailed off, shaking her head as if frustrated by her own vulnerability.

—Feel this way? —you offered, squeezing her hand.

Clarisse looked away, her cheeks faintly red. —Yeah. Something like that.

You stepped even closer, tilting her chin up so she’d look at you. —You don’t have to hide with me, Clarisse. I love every part of you—the tough, the brave, and the soft parts you think no one sees.

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, you thought she might push you away. But then her hands were on your waist, pulling you closer as her lips met yours in a kiss that was as fierce and passionate as she was.

When she pulled back, her forehead resting against yours, she let out a shaky laugh. —You’re impossible, you know that?”

You grinned, your heart racing. —Yeah, but you love me for it.

Clarisse rolled her eyes, but the small smile on her lips betrayed her. —Don’t let it go to your head.

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the arena in golden light, you held her close, knowing that beneath all the armor and bravado, Clarisse La Rue was yours—and you were hers.

MIDNIGHT, THE STARS, AND YOU

a night of loving (with a view!) | 721 words

WARNINGS: sexual themes , fem!reader , riding , sweet talk

“it’s so pretty…so beautiful…” michael sighs out at the world. perfectly framed through the open balcony doors, billowing curtains, a fairytale fantasy made real just for the two of you. it wasn’t lost on you that he’s gotten to see this all his life, all the time. you finally understood why he could never get sick of it.

staring out at the calm blue night, the city lights, the hills and the paintings it could’ve made, your heart fluttered, taken over by all of its coolness, its beauty. and him, of course; tangled bare in each other, in the lushness of the hotel bedding. it felt like a most magical reverie.

you look out at the night, pressed cheek to cheek like in the old starlet movies, your eyes glinting with the night’s stars in them. he watches with soft eyes and presses his lips flat to your cheek, kissing there.

“everything with you is like a dream.” your eyes meet, his sharp brown tinted blue in the moonlight. when he laughs, you cross his shy giddiness with a giggle of your own, emphatically repeating yourself: “i mean it! everything.”

he smiles, his youth springing from him the way it did when he was a boy. “it all means so much more to me now that i can share it with you…”

the sweetness rolls out of his mouth and through your body like a field of flowers in the wind and his earthly hands run along the softness of your back, the comfort he nurtures silently goading you to kiss him. your arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling your naked chests together. lips come together like they’d been made for the other’s, a gratitude escaping both your throats as it would in prayer. it’s beautiful like this, so right. the most perfect getaway. days of remarkable sights, local music, disguises to fool the public. nights of feasting; on the gorgeous food, on each other. you’d already gone a couple of delicious rounds this evening, you were practically bathed in the residual love.

your kiss deepened, and so did his need. that familiar heartbeat below, searched for reprieve. you look at each other, lips parted and glistening. silent permission meets a new look of want.

“can you…rub it on yourself?” he asks in a voice so low one might mistake it for timidness, but you know better. his desire, so ripe, awash over him. excitement heats your body instantly as you take him, hard and thick in your sweet hand, gently between your legs. oh… you moan low at the contact against your curls, rolling the slippery head taut against the bud of you. he lets out a long, savory sigh.

“do you like it?” you whisper shakily, eyes full with something caught between shame and surprise, arousal coloring your face all the same.

michael purrs in assent, teeth sunken into his lip, hips gyrating. “i love it. i love it, baby.”

you slide easy against him, warmer and warmer as he pulses harder, a delicate pang of need getting hotter against your body.

“that’s it, that’s it, baby, get it wet,” he utters under his breath, his guiding hand squeezing the flesh from your hip, the contact between your eyes never breaking…those darling brown eyes, round and wanting, laying all he needed on you with a mere twitch of an eyelash, long, pretty, and fluttering. you buck a little faster, totally blissed.

his breath quickens and his hand moves to cradle your lower back, almost stilling you completely. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, voice breathless and lustful—overcome with it. “c’mere…c’mere.”

you rock up onto his thighs and he slides his fingers between the two of you, his skin and knuckles growing sticky and wet. you raise your hips, chest meeting his chin, then lips as he kisses the bone along your sternum.

he rubs himself against the soft, slippery ache, beckoning you to take it again. with a whine you sink down wantonly, his eyes still trained on you diligently. love evident in the tenderness. your face contorts divinely, soon full to the brim with him, nestling perfectly along every pulsing vein. his name leaves you in a quivering moan and he kisses your jaw lightly.

“that’s it, darlin’.” he nods, bodies becoming one in the darkness. “want to see you come again.”

Clarisse La Rue Masterlist

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*gif not mine*

⌗ Behind the Armor

HERE

- in which clarisse la rue is known for her strength and toughness, but when it’s just the two of you, she lets down her guard

Amongst Demigods⁵

A Change Of Plans

f1 x reader

or... the one where a little plot twist wouldn’t hurt, right?

word count : 664

warning : none, english is not my first language!!!

on the radio : the tortured poets department by taylor swift

check masterlist for more parts of the series!!

🏛️🏎️

you don’t answer franco’s question right away. the words hang in the air like smoke, soft and lingering, while the lake reflects the pink-orange sky like nothing’s changed. but everything has. you’ve been claimed. the camp sees you differently now. the boys look at you differently now. and franco - well, franco’s sitting beside you like he’s holding his breath.

“I don’t know,” you finally say, voice quiet. “I need some time.”

he nods, gently, like he expected that. “I figured. just… had to say it.”

you give him a small smile, one that says thank you for being brave, and the two of you sit there a little longer, shoulders brushing.

but things don’t exactly go back to normal after that.

——————

in the days that follow, everything is heightened. lando finds you before breakfast just to walk you to the pavilion. oscar always manages to end up your sparring partner in sword practice - except he mysteriously “forgets” how to go easy, like you didn’t just get claimed by a literal god of the dead. daniel brings you snacks he “definitely didn’t steal from dionysus’ stash,” and charles… charles watches. from across the field, the dining area, the archery range. he watches you like you hold answers he’ll never get.

and franco? he gives you space.

he’s still around. he still smiles. but he doesn’t bring it up again. not yet.

one night, after a long day of drills and a brutal obstacle course (george bet five drachmae you’d beat alex - he won), you sneak away from the cabins. the woods are too loud, the campfire circle too crowded, and the lake too obvious. so you walk, past the strawberry fields and through the torch-lit paths, until you end up near the forge.

you don’t mean to see him. but there he is.

carlos.

shirt slightly damp with sweat, soot on his cheek, holding a freshly finished bronze dagger that glows faintly with celestial bronze. he doesn’t see you at first, too focused on the blade, but when he does, his eyes widen.

“you shouldn’t be here,” he says, not unkindly. “it’s late.”

“I could say the same to you,” you reply, stepping into the warm glow of the forge. “but I guess fire gods don’t sleep either.”

he chuckles, setting the dagger down. “you okay?”

you nod, even though you’re not sure. “too many thoughts.”

“same,” he says. then, after a beat, “is it the five?”

you blink. “the five?”

“charles, lando, oscar, franco, daniel,” he lists casually. “you’re kind of their whole personality right now.”

you let out a tired laugh. “don’t remind me.”

carlos picks up a cloth and wipes his hands. “you ever think maybe they’re all wrong for you?”

you tilt your head, amused. “and you think you’re right?”

he shrugs, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “not saying I am. but I’m definitely not a follower.”

he takes a step closer. the forge’s glow dances on his face, softening his sharp features. “they circle around you like you’re some prize. I just think maybe someone should see you without the competition.”

you swallow. “and you think that’s you?”

he doesn’t answer - not with words, anyway.

he leans in slowly, gaze locked on yours. it’s deliberate, careful. and then he kisses you.

it’s different. not like lando’s lingering touches or franco’s gentle flirtations. not like oscar’s thoughtful glances or daniel’s confident nudges or even charles’ intense stares. it’s warm, grounding, a little messy with the scent of smoke and metal clinging to your clothes. and when he pulls back, your heart is racing.

you stare at him, lips still parted, stunned.

he smiles, cocky but quiet. “I’ll let you think about it.”

then he walks past you, leaving the forge behind, the faint scent of fire and bronze still in the air.

and you?

you just stand there, blinking, wondering how in the underworld carlos just became a very, very real problem. ————————————————————————————

© all rights reserved to folkwhoreberry. no stealing or copying will be tolerated.

a/n : fav series everrrr

Lewis Hamilton Masterlist

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*gif not mine*

𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒

⌗ Under The Stars

HERE

- in which lewis and the reader enjoy a romantic dinner, deepening their connection.

⌗ Wild Games

HERE

- in which lewis and reader spends family time with her (their) kids.

...

Their Daughter's First Breakup

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ pairing:  Toto Wolff x Wife! Reader ✯

✯ content warnings: none✯

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

Having a teenager was rough. Teenagers experience so much—the highs and the lows—and the lows can get very, very low sometimes. Everything feels like a burden, even the smallest of inconveniences, which we only realize are small when we look at them in the rearview.

Charlotte, their daughter, had just come home. y/n had come home from work not too much earlier. 

“Hey, how was your day?” she asked her daughter with a soft smile, “did they gave you that biology test you said ‘it went so bad’,” she added, knowing that despite her thoughts she would end up with an outstanding grade.

“Yeah, an A,” Charlotte responded, through her tone giving away she was not in the mood.

The kitchen was quiet except for the gentle hum of the refrigerator and the occasional clatter of dishes as she tidied up. Charlotte sat at the kitchen table, poking at a bowl of cereal with her spoon, her expression distant.

She could sense something was off—Charlotte wasn’t her usual chatty self. Even her response about the biology test, which normally would’ve been delivered with pride or an exaggerated tale of woe, had been flat.

“An A, huh?” she said, trying to keep her tone light as she leaned against the counter. “I knew you’d ace it. You always do, even when you swear it’s the end of the world.”

Charlotte shrugged, her eyes fixed on her cereal. “Yeah, I guess.”

Her mother frowned slightly, setting the dish towel down and walking over to the table. She sat across from Charlotte, folding her hands on the table. “What’s going on, sweetheart? You’ve been extremely quiet”

“Nothing,” Charlotte replied too quickly, her voice tinged with irritation.

She tilted her head, her eyes soft with concern. “Charlotte…”

Her daughter sighed, her shoulders slumping as she finally set the spoon down. “It’s just… I’m tired, okay? School was long, and people were annoying, and…” She trailed off, her voice catching slightly.

“...And?”

Charlotte hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. “It’s stupid.”

“Nothing’s stupid if it’s bothering you,” her mom said gently, reaching across the table to rest a hand on Charlotte’s. “Talk to me, love.”

Charlotte looked down, her eyes welling up despite her best efforts to keep it together. “Liam… broke up with me,” she finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her heart clenched as she watched her daughter fight back tears. “Oh, sweetheart,” she said, getting up to move around the table and sit beside her. She wrapped her arms around Charlotte, who did not resist the hug but leaned into her instead.

“It’s so dumb,” Charlotte said, her voice muffled against her shoulder. “I don’t even know why I’m crying. It’s not like we were together that long, but… it just hurts.”

“It’s not dumb,” her mom reassured her, rubbing her back soothingly. “It hurts because it mattered to you. And it’s okay to feel that way.”

Charlotte sniffled, pulling back slightly. “I just don’t get it. He said I was ‘too much’ or something. Like, what does that even mean?”

Her mom’s brow furrowed. “It means he didn’t know how lucky he was to have you,” she said firmly. “And that’s his loss, not yours.”

Charlotte let out a watery laugh, wiping her eyes. “You’re just saying that because you’re my mom.”

“I’m saying it because it’s true,” she countered, cupping Charlotte’s face gently. “You’re smart, kind, and funny, and anyone who doesn’t see that doesn’t deserve you. Liam clearly wasn’t ready for someone as amazing as you.”

Charlotte smiled faintly, her tears starting to slow. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Always, love,” she said, pulling her into another hug. “Breakups suck, I know, but as far as I’m concerned no one has died from one,” she added, her tone lighter, trying to make her chuckle.

“I could be the first case,” her daughter chuckled slightly, still leaning into the embrace.

“Nope, not happening with me around,” she said softly, “I promise, it will pass, now it hurts, but it will pass, it always does, okay?”

Charlotte nodded, her face still slightly teary. 

“And while it does pass,” her mom started, “do you want to do something, maybe go shopping, you know to speed up the process,” she suggested with a light grin.

Charlotte wiped her eyes, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Yeah, okay. Shopping sounds nice,” she said softly.

Her mom grinned, a spark of relief lighting up her expression. “Perfect..”

Charlotte chuckled lightly, the sound still a bit shaky but genuine. “You’re really just looking for an excuse to go shopping, aren’t you?”

“Busted,” her mom teased, nudging her gently. “But seriously, a little retail therapy never hurt anyone. Go get ready, and I’ll grab my purse.”

“Okay,” Charlotte said, standing up from the table. The weight in her chest felt a bit lighter now, even if the ache of the breakup still lingered.

As Charlotte headed upstairs to change, her mom lingered in the kitchen, pulling out her phone to text Toto.

Taking Charlotte out for a little mother-daughter shopping trip. She had a rough day. Will fill you in later.

Moments later, Toto replied: Got it. Let me know if you need me to join. Give her a hug from me.

Smiling at his message, she slipped her phone into her bag and turned toward the stairs. “Ready when you are, Charlotte!” she called out.

Charlotte appeared a few minutes later, her eyes still slightly puffy but her expression more relaxed. “Let’s go.”

With a reassuring smile, her mom wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they headed to the car. “This is going to be fun, you’ll see.”

Charlotte leaned into her slightly, grateful for the comfort. “Thanks, Mom. For everything.”

“Always, sweetheart,” she said warmly, starting the Mercedes.

Later, almost night, the car pulled into the driveway late in the evening, the headlights casting long shadows against the house. Charlotte and her mom stepped out, the trunk bursting with shopping bags from every upscale store they had visited. Charlotte’s laughter rang through the quiet evening as she struggled to carry her share of the bags.

“Okay, okay, I think I went a little overboard,” her mom admitted with a laugh, balancing a few bags on her arms.

“You think?” Charlotte teased, a playful smile lighting up her face. She looked more like herself again, her earlier heartbreak now a distant hum rather than a sharp pang.

She smiled fondly as she glimpsed that very genuine smile on her daughter’s face. The evening went really well, not only due to the shopping, which contributed greatly, but the company.

They juggled the bags to the door, and as soon as it opened, they were greeted by the warm glow of the foyer lights. The familiar scent of home wrapped around them like a comforting hug.

Toto appeared at the top of the staircase, dressed casually in a button-down and slacks. He descended quickly, his tall frame moving gracefully. “Late night, I see,” he remarked, his voice carrying a mix of curiosity and amusement. His eyes flicked to the mountain of bags they were unloading onto the floor. “Did you leave anything in the stores?”

“Not much,” Charlotte quipped, a grin breaking across her face.

Toto smiled, clearly relieved to see her looking happier. He stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “You seem better,” he said softly.

“She’s feeling much better,” her mom confirmed, setting her bags down and stretching her arms. “And we might have single-handedly boosted the local economy tonight.”

Charlotte laughed. “It helped, though. I needed this.”

Toto crouched slightly, looking Charlotte in the eye. “Good. That’s all that matters. You’ll get through this, you know.”

Charlotte nodded, her smile soft but genuine. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Always,” he said warmly before standing and turning to his wife. “And you—thank you for taking care of her.”

“Of course,” she replied with a knowing smile. “Now, I’m going to make some tea. Charlotte, why don’t you start figuring out where all these bags are going to fit in your room?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Right. I’ll just call an architect and plan an extension.”

As she gathered her bags and headed upstairs, Toto slipped an arm around his wife’s waist, pulling her close. “You really are amazing, you know that?”

She tilted her head, giving him a teasing smile. “I hope you remind me of that every so often.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Every chance I get.”

From upstairs, they heard Charlotte call out, “Mom, where did you put that bag from Dior?!”

She groaned, laughing. “Coming!”

Toto released her with a smile, watching her head upstairs to join Charlotte.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

✯ authors note: I don't why today I write so daughter related, but honestly, imagine having Toto Wolff as a husband or as a dad...

BTW, random, but when I was writing it I could not stop thinking about Fleabag, this scene:

English is not my first language and I hope you liked it <3

Between Karts and Confessions

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pairing: carlos sainz x gn!reader

summary: A playful kart race with Carlos Sainz Jr. turns into something more when a heartfelt confession changes everything between you.

warnings: fluff. light teasing and playful rivalry.

Working as a data engineer at Ferrari wasn’t easy, but it had its perks. One of them was your dynamic with Carlos Sainz Jr. From the moment you joined the team, he had made it his mission to tease you, calling you “the rookie” despite your proven expertise. Your relationship was a constant back-and-forth of challenges and sarcastic remarks, but there was an unspoken spark neither of you dared to acknowledge.

Today was a rare calm day after a grueling Grand Prix weekend. The team had decided to stay at a private circuit in Italy to relax before heading to the next race. While most of your colleagues were enjoying a barbecue, Carlos walked over to you with his trademark mischievous grin.

“What are you doing sitting here, rookie?” he asked, crossing his arms and looking down at yo

“What are you doing sitting here, rookie?” he asked, crossing his arms and looking down at you.

“Enjoying not staring at data for once. Why?” you replied, raising an eyebrow as you took a bite of bread.

“Perfect. Then you have no excuse to turn down my challenge.”

You rolled your eyes, already sensing trouble, though you knew you wouldn’t resist. Carlos had a knack for pulling you out of your comfort zone.

“What kind of challenge, Sainz?”

He pointed toward the karts parked near the track. They’d been sitting there all day, mostly ignored by the team.

“A race. You against me. Three laps. If I win, you have to listen to something I’ve been meaning to tell you. If you win…” He paused, leaning in with a playful smile. “Pick whatever you want.”

You raised an eyebrow, studying him. It wasn’t the first time Carlos had challenged you, but something about his tone felt different—more serious, despite his usual carefree demeanor.

“Fine. But get ready to lose,” you said, standing up and brushing off your hands.

Carlos laughed, the sound bright and full of confidence.

“I’d love to see you try.”

Minutes later, you were both suited up and ready on the small track. Adjusting your gloves, you glanced over at Carlos, already seated in his kart with the number 55 emblazoned on the side.

“Ready?” he called out, his voice muffled slightly by his helmet.

“More than ready.”

The first lap was pure fun. You traded positions constantly, each trying to outsmart the other. Carlos tried to block you on a tight turn, but you slipped past him on the inside, shooting him a triumphant look.

“That’s cheating!” he yelled, though you could hear the laughter in his voice.

“Is that all you’ve got, Sainz?” you shouted back, grinning.

The second lap got more competitive. Carlos, being the professional driver, had the upper hand, but you held your ground with a few tricks of your own—like swerving just enough to throw him off or splashing water at him when he got too close.

“You’re impossible!” he yelled, laughing as he wiped water off his visor.

“And you’re slow!”

As you entered the final lap, Carlos got serious. He took the lead with a move you couldn’t counter, and despite your best efforts, he crossed the finish line just seconds ahead of you.

He removed his helmet with a triumphant smile as you pulled up beside him, huffing in frustration.

“Not bad for an engineer, but you’re still no driver,” he teased, offering his hand to help you out of the kart.

You swatted his hand away with a mock glare, but took it anyway.

“Alright, a deal’s a deal. What’s so important you had to win to tell me?”

Carlos’s grin faltered for a moment, replaced by something more vulnerable. He looked down briefly, rubbing the back of his neck, before meeting your eyes with a seriousness you rarely saw in him.

“I’ve always known you were special, since the first day. And not just because you’re good at what you do, but because…” He hesitated, his voice softening. “Because you make me want to be better. Even if it’s just to impress you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Carlos Sainz Jr., the ever-confident, always-joking driver, was standing in front of you, confessing something that felt far deeper than either of you had expected.

Before you could respond, a voice from the paddock called his name, cutting through the moment. Carlos sighed, raising a hand in apology.

“I’m sorry. We’ll talk about this later,” he said.

But before he walked away, he pulled something off his helmet—a small keychain featuring his race number and a handwritten note in Spanish: Para la chica que me hace feliz, incluso en los momentos más difíciles. He placed it in your hand before jogging off to the paddock.

You stood there, staring after him, heart racing as you clutched the keychain. One thing was certain: Carlos Sainz Jr. had just changed everything.

Slash it's time for you to pay for living in my head rent free