Toto Wolff is in a bad mood and bumps into a girl who spills coffee over him and he goes ballistic on her, only to find her waiting in his office later that day and realising that she is his new assistant. And he apologises and accidentally reveals that he thinks she’s pretty.
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toto wolff masterlist
pairing: toto wolff x assistant!reader
summary: Toto Wolff, in a foul mood, bumps into a woman who spills coffee on him. After a heated exchange, he discovers that she’s his new assistant. Unapologetically bold and confident, she challenges Toto in ways he didn’t expect, forcing him to rethink his first impression.
warnings: tense initial interactions, light humor.
Toto Wolff’s day was, in a word, terrible. Meetings had dragged on endlessly, strategy discussions had gone nowhere, and the pressure of an underperforming car was taking its toll. By the time he left the conference room, his patience was running on fumes.
All he wanted was a cup of coffee to pull himself together before tackling the mountain of paperwork waiting in his office. But fate, it seemed, had other plans.
As he rounded the corner of the hallway, he collided with someone moving at an equally brisk pace.
A gasp escaped from the other party, and before Toto could react, a wave of hot coffee splashed across his tailored suit.
—What the hell! —Toto barked, taking a step back, glaring down at the mess. His dark suit was stained, the sticky liquid seeping into the fabric.
—Oh, fantastic. —a voice responded sharply. —This is just what I needed.
Toto’s head snapped up at the tone. He was met with a pair of defiant eyes glaring right back at him. The woman standing before him wasn’t apologizing; in fact, she seemed just as annoyed as he was.
—Excuse me? —Toto said, his tone sharp and cutting. —You just ruined a suit worth more than your monthly salary.
She raised an unimpressed eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. —Maybe if you watched where you were going, this wouldn’t have happened. But sure, blame the person holding the coffee instead of the one charging through the hallway like a freight train.
Toto blinked, momentarily stunned by her boldness. Most people would have been tripping over themselves to apologize, but not her.
—Do you even know who I am? —he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
Her lips twitched into a dry smile. —Oh, I know exactly who you are. Toto Wolff, the team principal of Mercedes-AMG Petronas, right? Well, congratulations. Today, you’re also the guy who doesn’t look where he’s going.
Toto’s jaw clenched, his irritation boiling over. —You-
—You’re welcome for the coffee, by the way —she cut him off, brushing past him with a pointed look. —Consider it a wake-up call..
Toto stood there, speechless, as she walked away.
Later That Day
Toto couldn’t shake the incident. As much as he hated to admit it, her sharp wit and unapologetic attitude had left an impression. Most people didn’t dare speak to him that way, and it gnawed at him.
When he finally returned to his office, he hoped to bury himself in work and forget the whole thing. But as he stepped inside, he stopped short.
Sitting at his desk, flipping through a folder, was the same woman from earlier.
She glanced up as the door opened, her expression neutral. —Oh, you’re back.
—What are you doing here? —Toto demanded, his voice laced with irritation.
She closed the folder and stood, offering a polite but firm smile. —I’m your new assistant.
Toto stared at her, his mind racing to catch up. —You’re—what?
—Your assistant —she repeated. —Surprise.
For the first time in a long while, Toto was at a loss for words. —No one informed me of this.
—Well, I was informed —she said, leaning against the desk casually. —And here I am.
He ran a hand through his hair, trying to suppress the wave of embarrassment washing over him. —Look, about earlier—
She held up a hand, cutting him off. —Don’t bother. I’m not fragile, Mr. Wolff. You were rude, I was rude back. Let’s call it even.
Her bluntness caught him off guard again. Most people tiptoed around him, afraid to upset the boss. But she wasn’t afraid, and it was… refreshing.
—I owe you an apology —Toto said after a pause, his tone more measured. —I was out of line.
She studied him for a moment before nodding. —Accepted. Now, are we done with the awkward apologies, or do you have more to add?
Toto almost smiled. Almost. —You’re… direct.
—Is that a problem?
—No. —he said quickly. —It’s… effective.
As she turned back to his desk, her movements fluid and confident, Toto muttered, almost to himself, —You’re quite pretty when you’re not yelling at me.
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
She froze, glancing back at him with a sharp look. —Excuse me?
Toto’s eyes widened slightly, realizing what he’d said. His ears turned red, a rare show of embarrassment for the usually composed team principal. —I- what I meant was—
She tilted her head, arms crossed. —Are you complimenting me, Mr. Wolff?
Toto cleared his throat, struggling to regain his composure. —It was just an observation. A poor choice of words, perhaps.
Her lips twitched into a smirk, her confidence unwavering. —Noted. For the record, you’re a bit easier to deal with when you’re flustered.
Toto blinked, caught off guard again. She was a force to be reckoned with, and he wasn’t sure if he should be annoyed or impressed.
—I’ll keep that in mind. —he said, his voice softer this time.
She turned back to her work, a quiet laugh escaping her. Toto watched her for a moment longer, a small smile tugging at his lips.
Maybe this wasn’t the worst first day after all.
Remember that requests and questions are open
T. Wolff.
C. Sainz
C. Leclerc.
S. Pérez
M. Verstappen.
G. Russell.
L. Norris.
L. Hamilton
F. Alonso.
O. Pia stri.
P. Jackson,
L. Castellan.
C. La Rue.
A. Chase.
G. Underwood.
⌞ I can write about more people, just send it to my requests! ⌝
⋅°₊ • ୨୧ ‧₊° ⋅
Heyy guys, I hope you enjoy this Toto one-shot, let me know what you think:) If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.
The morning sun filtered softly through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the bridal suite. A sea of ivory tulle and delicate lace surrounded you as you sat before the mirror, heart pounding in your chest. It was your wedding day—the day you had dreamed of, planned for, obsessed over to the very last detail. Yet, instead of excitement, all you felt was an overwhelming sense of pressure.
The makeup artist dabbed at your lips with a final stroke of soft pink, stepping back to admire her work. "You look stunning," she said warmly, but her words barely registered. Your mind was spinning with thoughts of the seating arrangements, the flowers, the music. What if something went wrong? What if the guests didn’t enjoy themselves? What if the cake toppled over before you even got a chance to cut it?
A gentle knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts, and your bridesmaid, Anna, rushed to open it. She gasped, spinning toward you. "It's Toto!"
Your eyes widened in panic. "He can't be here! We're not supposed to see each other before the ceremony!"
But before Anna could protest, the tall, commanding figure of your fiancé stepped into the room, his dark eyes locked onto yours. Toto Wolff, ever the composed and confident man, stood in his perfectly tailored suit, his expression unreadable for a moment—until it softened into something achingly tender.
"Toto!" you hissed, scrambling to cover yourself with the sheer robe draped over your wedding gown. "You’re breaking the rules!"
He ignored your protests, closing the door behind him and striding toward you. Anna wisely excused herself, leaving you alone with the man who, in a matter of hours, would be your husband.
Toto reached out, taking your hands in his, his touch grounding you instantly. "Liebling," he murmured, his Austrian accent wrapping around the endearment like silk. "I had to see you."
Your breath hitched as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin. "You look breathtaking."
Your earlier worries melted, if only for a moment. "Toto, you’re not supposed to see me before the ceremony. It's bad luck."
His lips quirked into that knowing smile of his. "We make our own luck, schatz. And right now, you look like you need to breathe."
A lump formed in your throat, the weight of the day pressing down on you again. "I just... I want everything to be perfect."
Toto sighed, shaking his head before pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. "Perfect?" he echoed. "Liebe, the only thing that matters today is that we love each other. Everything else is just noise. If the flowers aren’t right, if the music is off-key, if the entire world falls apart—none of it changes the fact that by the end of today, you’ll be my wife. That’s all that matters."
His words settled over you like a balm, soothing the storm in your mind. "But what if something goes wrong?"
He chuckled, his hands slipping down to your waist as he pulled you closer. "Then we laugh, and we dance, and we celebrate anyway. Because today is about us, not perfection."
Tears pricked your eyes, and you let out a shaky breath. "How do you always know exactly what to say?"
His lips brushed over yours, a whisper of a kiss that sent shivers down your spine. "Because I know you. And I know that you have the biggest heart, the most beautiful soul. And you are mine."
A tear slipped free, but Toto caught it with his thumb, his smile never faltering. "No more worrying, ja? Just enjoy today."
You nodded, your heart swelling with love. "Ja."
His eyes sparkled at your response, and he kissed you again, longer this time, as if he wanted to steal this moment for just the two of you before the world swept you away in the whirlwind of the wedding.
A knock at the door interrupted the intimate bubble you had created. "We need the bride! It’s time!"
Toto sighed, resting his forehead against yours for one last moment. "I’ll be waiting for you at the altar, schatz."
You let out a soft laugh, the nerves that had gripped you earlier now nothing but a distant memory. "I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else."
With one final kiss to your forehead, he stepped back, his eyes lingering on you as he made his way to the door. He hesitated, giving you one last smile before disappearing down the hallway.
You exhaled, a newfound sense of calm settling over you. Because Toto was right. At the end of the day, none of the small details mattered. The only thing that truly mattered was the love you shared, and the future you were about to begin together.
And that was more perfect than anything you could have planned.
@justaf1girl
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pairing: lewis hamilton x gf!reader
summary: after a successful race weekend, you and Lewis Hamilton share a quiet, intimate dinner away from the chaos. In each other’s company, everything feels perfect—just the two of you, the soft glow of candles, and the unspoken connection that has only grown stronger over time.
warnings: romance, suggestive content, established relationship
The night had fallen over the city, the stars glimmering above as the world seemed to settle into a peaceful silence. The weekend had been filled with the intensity of racing, but now, it was just you and him. After all the excitement, all the crowds, the media, and the chaos, this moment felt like a breath of fresh air.
You sat at the restaurant table, watching as Lewis, already dressed in a sleek, dark suit, adjusted the collar of his shirt. His signature charm was evident even in these quieter moments. His easy smile, the glint of mischief in his eyes, and that unmistakable presence that could never be ignored. But tonight, it wasn’t about the champion sitting in front of you. It was just him. Lewis. The man you had come to know and love.
He caught your gaze and grinned. —You look beautiful, as always. —he said, his voice low, warm, and filled with affection.
You smiled back, feeling the familiar flutter in your chest. You had been together for some time now, and yet, every time he looked at you like that, it still made your heart race. —Thank you. —you replied, reaching for your wine glass.
—You’ve made this weekend worth it. —he continued, his tone playful but sincere. —And after all the stress, I’m just happy to be here with you.
—You’ve had a hell of a week. You deserve a break. —you replied, your eyes softening. You had seen the weight of the weekend on his shoulders, the pressure of it all, but now, the world was quiet. It was just the two of you, alone in the calm.
Dinner arrived, and the two of you spoke about everything and nothing. Conversations flowed with ease, about past races, future plans, silly inside jokes, and dreams for the future. The atmosphere around you was intimate, just as it had been from the moment you first met. Every touch, every glance, felt natural, like no one else in the world mattered.
The night seemed to stretch on forever in the best way possible.
As the main course was cleared and dessert arrived, Lewis shifted in his seat, his eyes never leaving you. His hand found yours across the table, his fingers gently intertwining with yours. His touch was familiar, comforting, and the connection between you both seemed to spark with every soft brush of his skin against yours.
—Is it just me… —he said softly, —or has this been the perfect night?
You chuckled, looking down at your entwined hands before meeting his gaze. —It’s perfect. Because it’s with you.
Lewis leaned closer, his free hand reaching up to caress your face, his thumb lightly tracing your cheekbone. His touch was tender, as if he was savoring the moment. —I love this. —he murmured. —Just you and me, no distractions. No one else around.
Your breath caught in your throat at the intensity in his voice. You had always loved how he could shift from playful and teasing to deeply sincere in the blink of an eye. Tonight, though, you could tell he was feeling something more. Something deeper.
—You’re my home. —you whispered, your voice just above a breath. The words were simple, but they feel like everything.
He smiled softly, his lips curving up in that way you loved. —And you’re mine.
Lewis’s gaze dropped to your lips, and you felt the heat of his gaze like a physical pull. He leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull back if you wanted to, but you didn’t. You never did. The moment his lips met yours, it was like the world around you ceased to exist. There was no racing, no crowds, no interviews. Just the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of your connection.
The kiss was soft at first, slow and lingering, a moment of pure intimacy. But as the seconds ticked by, the intensity of it deepened. His hand slid from your face to your neck, pulling you closer, while you reached up to tangle your fingers in his hair. The taste of him, the feel of him against you, made your head spin, and you could feel his heartbeat match yours in the rhythm of the kiss.
He broke away just enough to whisper, his breath warm against your lips. —I want you to know something.
—Anything. —you breathed, your voice thick with desire, but also with a sense of calm. You were safe here.
He looked into your eyes, his own dark and full of emotion. —I need you. More than just these moments. You’re everything to me.
You couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at your lips. —I feel the same way. —you whispered, leaning in to kiss him again.
The night stretched on as you both shared more than just kisses. You shared your thoughts, your feelings, and the quiet kind of love that made you feel as though everything had aligned perfectly. It wasn’t about grand gestures or big words; it was about this, the peace and the quiet, the moments that felt as though they were just for you two, the way the world could fade away when you were together.
By the time the evening came to an end, you both were reluctant to leave. But there was no rush. You knew that this connection, this love, was something that didn’t need to be hurried. It would always be there, just like him.
As you both left the restaurant hand-in-hand, the stars above twinkling like a reflection of your hearts, you knew this was more than just a perfect night. It was a perfect life. A life with him.
She’s a Ferrari engineer and different people in the paddock can see how down bad Toto is for her every time they interact.
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pairing: toto wolff x ferrari engineer (OC)
summary: toto wolff’s efficiency is legendary. His focus, unwavering. Until she arrives in the paddock as Ferrari’s newest engineer, and everyone starts noticing how he suddenly seems… distracted.
warnings: romantic tension, open ending
The paddock was alive with its usual hum of activity, journalists darting from one garage to another, engineers poring over data, and drivers engaging in last-minute interviews. It was a world of precision, discipline, and focus. Toto Wolff was the embodiment of all three.
Or at least, he had been.
The first meeting of the weekend started like any other: strategy briefs, discussions about weather conditions, and subtle jabs traded between rival teams. But today, something felt different. Toto wasn’t his usual commanding self. He wasn’t distracted by the numbers or even Christian Horner’s persistent prodding. No, his attention was elsewhere.
Her.
She was Ferrari’s newest addition, a sharp-minded engineer whose reputation for innovation had preceded her arrival. As she spoke, the room seemed to narrow, her words slicing through complex issues with ease. She didn’t just command respect, she demanded it. And Toto, much to his dismay, couldn’t look away.
—Wolff. —Horner’s voice broke through the discussion. —any thoughts?
Toto blinked, his focus snapping back. —It’s a solid plan. —he said quickly, his tone as measured as ever. But Lewis Hamilton, seated nearby, caught the faintest crack in his composure.
As the meeting ended and the attendees filed out, Lewis leaned in. —You good, boss? —he asked, his voice low. —You looked… distracted.
Toto straightened his tie, his expression impassive. —Focus on the race, Lewis.
But the day only got worse.
By mid-afternoon, the whispers had started.
—Did you see the way Wolff was watching her during the meeting?
—I’m telling you, he actually smiled. Toto Wolff smiled.
—Maybe he’s trying to poach her for Mercedes?
The rumors spread like wildfire, and Toto did little to dispel them. Every time he crossed paths with her, his usual cool demeanor seemed to falter. A second too long holding a door. A fleeting glance across the paddock. A barely-there smile when she passed by.
She noticed, of course. How could she not? She was sharp enough to catch the tension in his posture, the way his eyes lingered just a moment longer than necessary. And if she felt a twinge of satisfaction, she hid it well, burying it beneath a professional facade.
The real breaking point came during a rainy afternoon session. The rain had turned the pit lane into chaos. Engines roared, tires screeched, and mechanics scrambled to adapt. She was in the thick of it, crouched near the Ferrari garage with grease smudging her cheek as she adjusted a temperamental component.
Toto passed by, his stride slowing involuntarily. She looked up just as he did, their eyes locking for a split second. There it was again. That soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, the one that felt entirely out of place for someone as composed as him.
—Something caught your eye, Wolff? —Christian Horner’s voice interrupted, smug as ever. He was leaning against the Mercedes garage, arms crossed and a grin firmly in place.
Toto’s jaw tightened, his gaze flicking to Horner before he resumed walking. —Focus on your own team, Christian. —he said evenly, but the slight flush on his face didn’t go unnoticed.
Later that evening, the paddock had quieted, the storm outside matching the subdued atmosphere. She found herself alone in the Ferrari garage, organizing tools when she heard footsteps behind her.
—Toto. —she said without looking up, her voice tinged with amusement.
He froze, caught. —You’re very observant. —he admitted, stepping closer.
—I’d have to be, working in this world. —she replied, finally meeting his gaze. There was something playful in her eyes, a spark that set his nerves alight. —So, what can I do for you?
For a moment, he said nothing, his carefully constructed walls crumbling under the weight of her stare. Finally, he managed. —You’ve made quite an impression.
Her smile widened, slow and deliberate. —Have I? Because from what I hear, you’re the one making impressions, Toto.
He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The paddock had already done enough talking for both of them.
As he walked away, leaving her smirking in the quiet garage, Toto couldn’t shake the feeling that, for the first time in years, he was driving blind. And yet, he wasn’t sure he minded.
there are purple-black blotchy marks along the upper-half of your body where you can still feel the ghost of his canines clamping down on your neck and the whisper of his fingertips brushing your skin.
kimi stares at you unabashedly, with eyes as wide as saucers.
“did…did toto, like, beat you up yesterday?” he asks hesitantly.
bless the poor kid.
“i can, um, get you an ice pack if you need,” kimi adds on.
he eyes up a particularly large hickey on the left side of your neck that you had tried in vain to cover up with concealer.
you pat his shoulder softly and cast a kindhearted smile at him.
“thank you kimi, but i’m alright- really,” you say reassuringly.
he nods, still a looking a bit unconvinced, before running along to go chat with ollie.
later, when you meet up with your husband in the second floor of the mercedes motorhome, in his travel-office couch that you two are a bit too familiar with, you recount the story.
he only laughs, before surging forward, pushing you further onto the couch and attaches his lips to your neck like he did the night before, and the night before that.
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!! :))
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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.
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*gif not mine*
𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒
⌗ Under the mistletoe
HERE
-in which charles and his partner take a quiet christmas walk through the snow, chatting about the holiday season
OKAY FOR THE ANGST
how bout some age gap (READER IS LEGAL OBVI) like reader is in her 20s and when she introduced toto to the fam, they did NOT like him. They were off about the age gap and made it clear they don't like the relationship. toto and reader end up breaking up cause of toto did not want to ruin her relationship with her fam and yadayada, just a sad ending overall
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part 1 | part 2 (end 1) | part 2 (end 2)
pairing: toto wolff x fem!reader
summary: when the reader introduces Toto Wolff to her family, the stark age gap becomes an unspoken elephant in the room. Their disapproval grows evident, leading to tension and heartbreak. Despite the love between them, Toto decides to step away, unwilling to be the cause of her strained relationship with her family.
warnings: Angst and heartbreak, family disapproval, age gap themes, bad ending.
You should’ve known introducing Toto to your family would be difficult, but you hadn’t expected it to feel like walking into a battlefield.
The moment Toto stepped into your childhood home, his confidence seemed to dim under the weight of the judgmental stares. Your father greeted him with a handshake that lingered too long—firm, almost challenging. Your mother’s polite smile faltered as her eyes scanned him, likely comparing his age to their own.
Toto, ever the gentleman, carried himself with poise. He complimented your mother’s cooking, listened intently to your father’s stories, and even tried to engage your siblings in conversation. But no matter how much effort he put in, their responses remained cold, clipped, and filled with subtle jabs.
—So…—your older brother said, leaning back in his chair with an almost predatory grin. —how old are you exactly, Mr. Wolff?
—Forty-seven. —Toto replied evenly, his tone calm despite the growing tension.
—Forty-seven. —your brother repeated, drawing the words out as if to drive the point home. —That’s… impressive. Almost double her age, right?
You tensed, glancing at Toto, who gave you a reassuring smile. But you saw it—the flicker of discomfort in his eyes.
—It’s not about numbers. —Toto said, his voice steady. —It’s about how we feel about each other.
—And how long will that last? —your father cut in, his voice low and sharp. —Feelings fade. Reality doesn’t.
The rest of the dinner was a blur of forced conversation and thinly veiled hostility. You could barely meet Toto’s gaze, guilt clawing at you for subjecting him to this.
After dinner, Toto offered to help clean up, but your mother waved him off. —We’ve got it. —she said curtly, her tone leaving no room for argument.
When the two of you stepped outside for some air, Toto pulled you into a gentle embrace. His warmth grounded you, even as your mind spiraled with frustration and shame.
—I’m sorry. —you whispered, burying your face in his chest. —They’re just… protective. They don’t know you like I do.
—I know. —he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. —But maybe they’re right to be concerned.
You pulled back, frowning. —What’s that supposed to mean?
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. —You’re young, Schatz. You have so much ahead of you—so much to experience. I don’t want to be the reason you lose your family’s support or miss out on opportunities.
—That’s not your decision to make. —you argued, your voice trembling. —I love you, Toto. I chose you.
He cupped your face, his thumb brushing away a tear that slipped down your cheek. —And I love you. But love isn’t always enough.
The days that followed were suffocatingly quiet. You could tell something had shifted in Toto. He still held you close at night, still whispered soft words of affection, but there was a distance—an inevitability—that hung over you like a storm cloud.
It wasn’t until a week later that he finally said the words you’d been dreading.
—I think we need to end this. —he said, his voice breaking as he avoided your gaze.
Your heart shattered. —You don’t mean that.
—I do —he insisted, though the anguish in his eyes betrayed him. —This isn’t fair to you. Your family…
—My family doesn’t get to decide who I’m with! —you snapped, tears streaming down your face. —They’ll come around eventually. We just need to give them time.
He shook his head, his own eyes glistening. —Time won’t change their concerns. And I can’t be the reason you’re stuck in the middle.
—Toto, please. —you pleaded, your voice breaking. —Don’t do this. I can’t…
He pulled you into a final embrace, holding you so tightly it felt like he was trying to memorize the feel of you. —You’re going to be amazing. —he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. —You deserve the world, Schatz. Even if it’s not with me.
You never blamed Toto for his decision. Deep down, you understood it came from a place of love, even if it left you feeling hollow.
Your family never brought him up again, acting as though he’d been a passing phase. But every time you saw his name in the news or caught a glimpse of him on TV, the ache returned.
Toto, for his part, threw himself into his work. He told himself it was for the best—that you’d be happier without the complications of their relationship. But late at night, when the world was quiet and his bed felt too big, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made the wrong choice.
Some love stories aren’t meant to have happy endings, no matter how much you want them to.
back to my main masterlist
*gif not mine*
⌗ Strong Enough for You
HERE
- in which reader loves percy, especially those strong arms that he has.
⌗ You’re Enough
HERE
- in which you felt insecure for once, but pervy made sure you knew just how much you meant to him.
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.”