Toto Wolff Link For Wolff In The Paddock Is Messed Up It Just Goes Right Back To The Masterlist When

Checo Perez with wife reader. Despite him not having a seat next year, she wanted him to start the new year afresh. Doing everything she could and he's just grateful for her support all his career in motorsports. He knew her didn't always there when she or their kids needed him. Always make him guilty. But he tried the better he could for them. Thanks!! :))

The New Year’s Fresh Start

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pairing: checo perez x wife!reader

summary: After losing his seat for the upcoming season, Checo feels weighed down by guilt and uncertainty. But with his wife’s unwavering love and support, he realizes that family is the true constant in his life, and she reminds him of his worth beyond the track.

The house was unusually quiet for a New Year’s Eve. The kids were asleep upstairs, their soft breaths audible through the baby monitor on the kitchen counter. Checo sat on the couch, staring blankly at the glass of wine in his hand. The weight of the year’s disappointments pressed heavily on his shoulders.

He swirled the wine absentmindedly, thinking about how it all unraveled. Losing his seat—no matter how much he tried to prepare for it—still stung. Racing wasn’t just his career; it was his life. And now, he didn’t even know who he was without it.

The sound of soft footsteps pulled him out of his thoughts. He turned to see you, his wife, entering the living room with a gentle smile. You were carrying a tray with two mugs of hot chocolate, a subtle gesture to remind him that some traditions were worth keeping, even on a somber night.

—Thought you could use this. —you said, handing him a mug as you settled beside him.

—Gracias, mi amor. —he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He set his wine aside and took the mug, the warmth seeping into his hands.

You studied him for a moment, your heart aching at the sadness in his eyes. Checo had always been the strong one—the fighter. But tonight, he seemed smaller, like the world had finally broken through his armor.

—You know. —you began softly, —a new year doesn’t have to mean starting over. It can just mean a fresh start.

He chuckled bitterly. —It’s hard to feel like a fresh start when everything I’ve worked for feels… gone.

You reached out, placing a hand on his knee. —Everything you’ve worked for isn’t gone, Sergio. It’s right here. In this house, in our family, in the memories you’ve created on and off the track. Racing might be a part of who you are, but it’s not all of who you are.

He looked at you, his dark eyes brimming with unshed tears. —You’ve always believed in me, even when I didn’t deserve it. Even when I wasn’t there for you or the kids.

You frowned, shaking your head. —Don’t say that. You’ve always done your best for us, Checo. And yes, there were times when we missed you, when I wished you could’ve been home more. But we understood. We always understood. Racing was your dream, and we chose to support you because we love you.

His lips pressed into a thin line, guilt etched into every line of his face. —I just feel like I’ve let you down. I wasn’t there for the birthdays, the first steps, the hard days. I missed so much.

You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. —You didn’t let us down. You showed our kids what it means to chase a dream, to work hard, to never give up. And now? Now it’s time to show them what it means to find strength in the people who love you.

Checo’s throat tightened, and he set the mug down, pulling you into his arms. You sank into his embrace, feeling the tension in his body slowly melt away.

—I don’t deserve you. —he whispered against your hair.

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. —Maybe not. But you’re stuck with me anyway.

He laughed softly, the sound breaking through the heaviness in the room. —I love you. —he said, his voice steadier now. —More than anything. Thank you for always being my anchor.

You pulled back slightly, resting your forehead against his. —And I’ll always be here, Sergio. Whether you’re racing or not, whether you’re on top of the world or starting from scratch. You’re my husband, the father of our kids, and the love of my life. That’s what matters.

The clock struck midnight, and the sound of distant fireworks filled the air. Checo leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that spoke of gratitude, love, and hope.

As the new year began, he realized that while his career might be uncertain, his family was his constant. And with you by his side, he knew he could face whatever the future held.

Luke Castellan Masterlist

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*gif not mine*

𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒

⌗ In the Stillness of the Stars

HERE

-In which luke opens his heart, sharing a kiss that speaks of vulnerability and love, as the world fades away around you.

KISSING MICHAEL PART II

(mature michael headcanons) | 434 words

WARNINGS: mature themes , wine mention , describing kissing , reader is genderless <3

if you’re wondering, “how can a part ii come before a part i???” well…i have a kissing michael headcanon i was already working on but this one fought to come out first LOL……

i feel like a mature michael would really appreciate a long make out session

just to get a bit of a break

just to have his eyes closed for a moment, get his mind off of the world and onto you

your lips

your tongue

connecting and…

i imagine it can come about in casual ways, the domestic sort of thing that happens when you have the comfort of living together

out on a walk or making lunch in the kitchen, his hands taking space on the island behind you

your lips in the bright california light, in perfect rhythm—together

he likes kissing like that

just slow, no expectation for anything more than that

i imagine it comes on the nights when you join him with an uncorked bottle of wine after bedtime stories

just a glass, or two…

he’ll have you in his lap, grateful, so loving

how he loves you…

you kiss him long and slow then in between rubs of your faces together, warm from the sweet red,

he puts his forehead to yours and says he’s proud of you

no, really, really

really, baby

and he kisses you a bit raggedly in the lamplight, lips full,

his tongue

fuck

tasting like…

and there’s never no expectation for some touching

in these moments you might undo a couple buttons on his shirt, air his skin out

explore his bare chest a little, tease his nipple, palm along his neck

and i think his hands would squeeze your legs, know them deftly

his hand going down, fingers slipping between your thighs, gripping just to hear you moan for him

break the kiss, smile, share a few breaths or taunting gazes, dive into each other again………..

he likes kissing like that, too.

another time i imagine are those nice mornings when there’s all the time to lounge

sun pouring in, warming your bed

you slept bare, so you appreciate a little extra warmth

you kiss each other forever it seems

that’s when you’re really gluttonous for each other

i’m not sure if you grow together you just care less but

neither of you have a chance to freshen up before these sessions

you don’t really speak much either

just

kiss…

like magnets vibrate to come together

it’s when he gets the most nasty too

when he gets your mouth open wide

sucks your tongue the way he wants

you roll yours against the bridge of his mouth

you kiss teeth and love it, somehow

and you can’t tell whose spit is whose

somehow

just

kissing him

tangled in each other on a sunday

he loves kissing like that.

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

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

A Thousand Cuts

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pairing: toto wolff x reader

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

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

You promised yourself this would be the last time.

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

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

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

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

You didn’t knock; you never had to.

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

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

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

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

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

—And yet. —he said, stepping closer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you both knew it wasn’t that simple.

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

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

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

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

But neither of you moved.

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

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

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

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

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

Under the Mistletoe

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pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: Charles and his partner take a quiet Christmas walk through the snow, chatting about the holiday season. As they pass under the mistletoe, they share a sweet, romantic kiss, reinforcing their love for each other.

warnings: fluff

The snow gently fell, blanketing everything in white as Christmas lights twinkled in every corner of the city. It was Christmas Eve, and Charles, with his signature smile, had taken your hand to walk through the nearby park by his home. This year, you had decided to do something different: escape the hustle and bustle, enjoy the peace and quiet of the season, and, of course, enjoy each other’s company.

—Do you like the snow? —Charles asked as his fingers intertwined with yours, walking leisurely beside you.

—It’s beautiful. —you replied, gazing at the snow-covered tree tops, everything so peaceful and magical. —But I prefer the warmth of a fireplace.

Charles let out a soft chuckle, glancing at you affectionately.

—I get it. But there’s something special about walking in the snow. Everything feels calmer, more peaceful. Like the world is a little closer, don’t you think?

You nodded, smiling softly. The conversation flowed naturally, without haste, enjoying the warmth of each other’s company amidst the wintry chill. The atmosphere was so relaxing it felt like time itself had stretched out.

As you walked, the only sound was the crunch of your footsteps in the snow until you passed under a pair of sparkling lights decorating an entrance, and right there, in view, was a little corner adorned with mistletoe.

Charles stopped abruptly, looking up and then back at you, a mischievous smile forming on his face.

—Do you know what that means? —he asked, pointing up at the mistletoe hanging just above them.

You looked up, seeing the small plant hanging, surrounded by twinkling lights.

—I guess it’s an invitation to kiss? —you replied with a playful grin.

Charles took a step closer, stopping just inches away from you. His expression softened, becoming more serious yet filled with affection.

—You’re right. —he whispered, before leaning in toward you.

Your hearts seemed to beat in sync as his lips met yours in a soft, sweet kiss, as if everything that had happened before in the holiday season had led to this moment. The feeling of being together, under the mistletoe, in the cold, was all you needed to feel warmth in your hearts.

The kiss lingered, so natural, so full of love, that everything else seemed to fade away. There was only the two of you, the mistletoe, the twinkling lights, and the softness of the Christmas night.

When you finally pulled away, Charles looked at you with a tender smile, his eyes sparkling.

—Merry Christmas, sweetheart. —he whispered.

—Merry Christmas, my love. —you replied, your smile the biggest it had been all day.

The rest of the walk was quiet, but the air felt filled with something more. The mistletoe hadn’t just been a symbol of the Christmas tradition; it was a reminder of a love that felt stronger every day.

Toto is sick in bed and his wife is at some gala. He need texting her throughout the night and being annoying because he’s clingy when he’s sick but he won’t admit it.

A Night with a Sick Toto (and His Clingy Texts)

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pairing: sick!toto wolff x wife!reader

summary: Toto Wolff is stuck at home battling what he dramatically calls “the deadliest cold ever,” while his wife is attending an important gala

warnings: pure fluff, clingy and dramatic Toto Wolff when sick.

Saturday night should have been easy. You had spent the afternoon meticulously preparing for a prestigious gala, one you couldn’t miss because it was critical for networking. Toto had been supportive, at first.

—Don’t worry —he’d said, bundled up in the softest blanket he owned. —You go enjoy yourself. I’ll be fine. Im perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

Yet the moment you walked out the door, his first text arrived.

Round 1: The Neediness Begins

Toto: Are you there yet?

You: Just arrived. Are you okay?

Toto: I’d be better if someone was here to make sure I don’t die.

You: Toto, it’s a cold, not the plague.

Toto: A very serious cold.

You: I left you everything you need: tea, soup, medicine, tissues, and Netflix. What else do you want?

Toto: I don’t know… maybe my wife?

You: Stop being dramatic. You told me to go.

Toto: Well, now I regret it. It’s so lonely here.

You: You’re literally under three blankets.

Toto: And still freezing.

You: You’re impossible.

Toto: You’re beautiful.

You sighed, already anticipating how the night was going to unfold.

Round 2: Mid-Gala Drama

You’d barely had a chance to enjoy a drink when your phone buzzed again.

Toto: What are you doing?

You: Networking. It’s a gala, Toto.

Toto: Networking with who?

You: People important for my job.

Toto: Anyone taller than me?

You: Toto…

Toto: I’m just asking.

You: What do you want?

Toto: I think I’m getting worse.

You: Did you take your medicine?

Toto: It tastes awful.

You: That’s why I left the orange juice.

Toto: It’s not the same if you’re not here to give it to me.

You: Toto, you’re a grown man.

Toto: A very sick grown man.

You: Do you want me to come home early?

Toto: No, no. Stay. I’ll suffer in silence.

You: You’re literally texting me right now.

You took a deep breath, willing yourself not to laugh. He was impossible, but he was your impossible.

Round 3: Dessert and Desperation

Just as dessert was served, Toto escalated his antics.

Toto: The soup you made tastes like cardboard.

You: It’s your favorite soup.

Toto: Not when I have to reheat it myself. It tastes… soulless.

You: It’s literally the same soup.

Toto: It needs your touch.

You: Are you sure you don’t want me to come home?

Toto: No, I don’t want to ruin your night.

You: You’re already ruining it.

Toto: But I miss you.

You: Toto…

Toto: I think I have a fever.

You: Did you check?

Toto: I don’t know where the thermometer is.

You: It’s in the medicine cabinet.

Toto: Why can’t you just come home and check for me?

By this point, you’d had enough. Politely excusing yourself from the event, you called a car and headed back home.

When you walked through the door, you found him exactly where you expected: sprawled out on the couch, buried under a fortress of blankets. He glanced up, his brown eyes a mixture of guilt and triumph.

— You’re back early. —he said innocently.

—You made sure of that. —you replied, dropping your bag and crossing your arms.

—I wasn’t that bad.

—You texted me 27 times.

Toto winced. —That’s not so many.

Rolling your eyes, you moved to sit beside him. He immediately latched onto you, resting his head on your shoulder like a needy puppy.

—See? This is what I needed. —he mumbled.

—Don’t think I’m letting you off the hook. —you teased, brushing a hand through his hair.

—I’ll make it up to you when I’m better. —he promised, his voice already fading as the comfort of having you close finally allowed him to relax.

And as much as you wanted to be annoyed, you couldn’t help but smile. Because at the end of the day, being needed. Annoying texts and all. It wasn’t so bad.

You can’t leave us hanging there with ‘Too Wide a Divide’, they could cross path in future, or there’s some surprises which Toto will find out, something but ending in that way too ... (crying in the corner)

Too Wide a Divide

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part 1 | part 2 (end 1) | part 2 (end 2)

pairing: toto wolff x fem!reader

summary: after Toto Wolff walks away from the relationship to preserve the reader’s bond with her family, both are left heartbroken. Months pass, but neither can truly move on. The reader struggles with her family’s lingering disapproval and the void left by Toto. When fate intervenes, their paths cross again, and unresolved feelings come rushing back. This time, the reader must decide: will she fight for their love, or let him slip away once more?

warnings: angst with happy ending, mentions of family disapproval and heartbreak.

The night Toto walked away, the world seemed to collapse around you. He held your hands so gently, his voice calm but heavy with sadness.

—This isn’t what I want.— he said, his thumb tracing circles over your knuckles. —But I can’t let you lose your family because of me. You deserve peace, not this…

You couldn’t speak. Every part of you wanted to scream, to tell him that he was your peace, that losing him would hurt more than anything else. But his resolve was unshakable, and you knew, deep down, that he was leaving out of love.

The days after his departure blurred together. You went through the motions of daily life, but everything felt hollow. Your family tried to comfort you in their own awkward way, but the weight of their disapproval never really lifted. It sat between you, unspoken but ever-present.

And Toto… he was gone. No texts, no calls, not even a fleeting email. You checked Formula 1 updates occasionally, just to see his face. There he was, always poised and professional, but you wondered if his smile ever felt as forced as yours.

Months later, you found yourself at an art exhibit, a rare outing, thanks to a persistent friend who refused to let you wallow any longer. You wandered through the gallery, half-listening to the curator speak about the pieces on display. The paintings were vibrant, alive, but all you could feel was the ache in your chest that had never quite gone away.

You were about to step into the next room when you felt it, a presence, familiar and magnetic. Turning slowly, your eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on him.

Toto.

He was standing across the room, taller and broader than you remembered, his dark suit immaculate. His gaze met yours, and everything else seemed to fade away. The noise of the gallery, the people bustling around, it all disappeared.

For a moment, neither of you moved. Then, as if drawn together by some invisible force, he started walking toward you.

When he stopped in front of you, the air between you felt charged, heavy with everything left unsaid.

—You’re here. —he said softly, his voice like a balm and a dagger all at once.

—I am. —you replied, your throat tight.

He hesitated, his eyes searching yours. —I didn’t expect to see you.

—I wasn’t expecting this either. —you admitted.

The silence stretched, the weight of your shared history pressing down on both of you. Finally, you asked the question that had haunted you for months.

—Why did you leave without a fight?

His jaw tensed, and he looked away briefly, guilt flickering across his face. —Because I didn’t want to be the reason you lost your family.

Your chest tightened, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. —But you were the reason I was happy.

His expression cracked, the mask of composure slipping just enough for you to see the pain he’d been carrying. —And you think I wasn’t?

The vulnerability in his voice hit you like a tidal wave. You wanted to reach out, to close the distance between you, but you didn’t. Not yet.

The two of you slipped away from the crowd, finding a quiet corner where you could talk. And talk you did for hours. About everything. Your family, his fears, the love that still burned between you, even after all this time.

—I never stopped loving you. —he confessed, his voice low and raw.

—I never stopped either. —you admitted.

But love wasn’t the only thing at stake. The past couldn’t be erased, and the tension with your family still loomed large. When he asked if you were willing to try again, you hesitated, not because you didn’t want to, but because you weren’t sure if you could bridge the gap between him and your family.

The next day, you made a decision. You invited him to your parents’ house, determined to face the issue head-on. It wasn’t an easy conversation, there were tears, raised voices, and moments where it felt like everything might fall apart. But Toto stayed, steady and unyielding, his love for you clear in every word he spoke.

By the end of the night, there was no miraculous reconciliation, but there was something else: progress. A tentative understanding, a crack in the wall that had kept you apart.

Months later, as you stood by Toto’s side at a Formula 1 event, you spotted your family in the VIP section, watching with tentative smiles. The road hadn’t been easy, and there were still challenges ahead, but for the first time in a long time, you felt hope.

SEND REQUESTS PLEASEEEE 😞😞😞😞‼️‼️‼️‼️

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