Amazing As Always!! 😍😍

Today marks the last day of Lewis with Mercedes, Carlos with Ferrari, Estie Bestie with Alpine (which has been let go earlier🥺), KMag & Nico at HAAS, VB & Zhou with Sauber. Franco and Liam stepped up and exceeded our expectations.💔💔💔 Remember that we lost both Logie and Danny Ric 😭😭😭 With the incoming rookies like Ollie, Kimi, Jack and Gabriel next season. One last seat at VCARB will complete the '25 grid. They've left their marks, memories and legacy within the F1 world which give inspiration to all of us. Everyone had a dream and maybe they've relished it for us. Maybe one day we'll be there. One day💪🏻From not knowing anything to knowing almost everything about F1. Become obsessed with it🥹🥹🥺 I thank you for everything. Thank you for brightening my day. Thank you for cheering me up when I had a bad day. Thank you for giving me a heart attack whenever I was to watch 😆😆 Thank you for the passion. Thank you for the effort. Thank you for the memories. Thank you for being my friends. Thank you everyone. Thank you for being you. Thank you for being there🤩🤩 It's been the best 1st season and hopefully for more in the future. I'm gonna cherish and kept close to my heart forever. Drama, silly season, shocking news, lots of penalty, community service.🤭 What a season. What a year. Finish it off on top. 👏🏻👏🏻 Bittersweet feeling but nonetheless happy for all of them. They deserve it. Good luck on your next adventure!! Gonna miss you guys so much!!! :)) ❤️❤️💕

Ps: as of now I haven't managed to watch it yet. I have one last exam. And I'm gonna treat this as my gift 😆😆. So no spoiler at the moment‼️‼️After that, I'm gonna cry for a very long time 😭. So, see you again!!! ✌🏻✌🏻✌🏻

Couldn't get to see him at KL due to me couldn't go💔😭😭😭 But thank you Lewis for years with us. Gonna miss you so much!!! Please visit us again!!!! ❤️👋🏻 Wish you luck🤞🏻

Lewis arriving at the farewell event in KL 🫶🏾

🔥🥵

Toto Wolff with wife reader. He always goes to the gym or exercises in order to keep in shape. One day she wanted to do it too but instead spent the entire time there staring at him. Fluff and maybe suggestive. Thanks!! :))

In Shape and In Love

Word count: 1.1k

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader

______________________________________________________________

Toto Wolff was a man of unwavering discipline, a trait that had served him well in both his career and personal life. Every morning, without fail, he woke up before the sun, slipping out of bed quietly so as not to disturb you, and headed straight to the gym. It was his sanctuary, a place where he could channel his focus, clear his mind, and maintain the physical condition that had become as much a part of his identity as his role at Mercedes.

You had always admired this about him. The sight of Toto in his workout gear, muscles rippling beneath taut skin, his brow furrowed in concentration as he pushed himself to his limits, was a sight you never tired of. Yet, despite your admiration, you had never joined him in his early morning routines. Mornings for you were about lingering in the warmth of the bed, savoring the last few moments of sleep before starting your day.

But this morning was different. You had decided to accompany him, curious to experience firsthand what had kept him so committed all these years. The night before, when you’d mentioned your plan, Toto’s eyes had sparkled with surprise and amusement.

“Are you sure, Mäuschen?” he’d asked with a teasing smile, wrapping an arm around your waist. “I’ve never known you to willingly get up before sunrise.”

“I want to see what all the fuss is about,” you had replied, grinning back at him. “Besides, maybe you can teach me a thing or two.”

That morning, you found yourself in the gym, dressed in workout clothes that felt a little too new, a little too stiff. The space was quiet, save for the rhythmic clink of weights and the low hum of Toto’s breath as he moved through his routine. He was already deep into his workout when you entered, the definition of his muscles accentuated by the sheen of sweat that covered his skin. He hadn’t noticed you yet, too focused on the task at hand.

You had intended to start with some light exercises—maybe a bit of stretching or some gentle yoga. But the moment you saw him, all thoughts of working out vanished. Instead, you found yourself drawn to a bench where you could sit and watch him without interrupting. It was a sight you rarely got to see so up close: the sheer power in every movement, the way his muscles flexed with each lift, the intense focus in his eyes as he pushed himself harder and harder.

He was wearing a sleeveless shirt that clung to his broad shoulders and chest, the fabric damp with sweat. Each time he exhaled, his chest rose and fell in a way that was hypnotic. The veins in his arms were prominent, a sign of the strength he had cultivated over years of dedication.

For a while, you simply watched, completely mesmerized by the man before you. The way he moved was almost sensual, each repetition a testament to his strength and control. You felt a warmth growing within you, a subtle yet undeniable pull that had nothing to do with the exercise you had planned and everything to do with the effect Toto had on you.

“Enjoying the view?” Toto’s voice cut through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality. He was standing in front of you now, a playful smile tugging at his lips. He had caught you staring, and the heat in your cheeks betrayed the thoughts you had been entertaining.

A sheepish smile spread across your face as you tried to play it cool. “I might be,” you teased, your tone light but your heart pounding in your chest.

Toto chuckled, a low sound that sent a shiver down your spine. He set the weights down and approached you, his gaze never leaving yours. There was a gleam in his eyes that told you he knew exactly what was going through your mind. “You know,” he murmured, reaching out to gently lift your chin so your eyes met his, “you’re supposed to be working out, not just watching me.”

“I was getting inspired,” you quipped, though your voice was softer now, betraying the effect his proximity was having on you. Your hand instinctively reached out, resting on his chest where you could feel the steady, powerful beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

Toto’s smile deepened, and he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. “If this is how you want to spend our gym time,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “I’m not complaining. But I might have other ideas for how to make this morning even better.”

The suggestiveness in his tone sent a wave of heat coursing through you, and you couldn’t help the way your body responded, leaning into him slightly. “Oh?” you replied, your voice barely more than a breath. “And what might those ideas be?”

Toto’s hand slid from your chin to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “How about,” he began, his lips so close to yours that you could almost taste him, “we skip the workout and focus on a different kind of exercise?”

Your breath hitched at the implication of his words, a surge of anticipation flooding through you. “I think I could be persuaded,” you murmured, your hand moving from his chest to the back of his neck, pulling him even closer.

Toto’s eyes darkened with desire, and he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and demanding. It was as if the morning’s workout had only served to heighten his need for you, every ounce of his energy now directed towards the way he kissed you, the way his hands moved over your body, igniting every nerve with a burning need.

The gym was forgotten as the kiss deepened, his hands moving to your waist, pulling you up from the bench and against his solid frame. The feeling of his hard body pressed against yours was intoxicating, and you found yourself completely lost in the moment, in the way he made you feel so utterly desired.

“Toto,” you whispered against his lips, your voice breathless as you felt his hands slide under your shirt, his touch sending sparks of electricity through you. “Maybe we should… take this somewhere else.”

Toto pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression a mix of love and raw desire. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

You nodded, your heart racing. “I’m sure. I think we have some unfinished business at home.”

His smile was wicked, and he didn’t need to be told twice. Within moments, you were both heading back to the apartment, the anticipation between you palpable. The workout may have been cut short, but the morning was far from over. You knew that what awaited you back home would be a different kind of exercise entirely—one that you were more than willing to dive into with the man you loved.

SMAU AM!Nando with wife reader. Summer break with their kids. Thanks!! :))

summer break | fernando alonso

an: thank you for the request!!

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yourusername summer break in 🇬🇷

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yourusername fernandoalo_official i think this question is meant for you

fernandoalo_official 😐

carmenmmundt i miss the girls 🥲 come visit soon!!

yourusername the girls miss you too! they already bought so many bracelets for you!

f1ellyyy the twins are getting so big 😭 i remember fernando announcing their birth felt like it was just yesterday

elplannando right?? i feel old

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fernandoalo_official my girls in greece ❤️

y/nstyle “thank you fernando for the y/n content” we all say in unison

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nandosaston LIVE LAUGH LOVE THE ALONSO GIRLS 🫶🏻

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For your 400 celebration. Driver 36 and reader 12. Fem wife reader. Her getting everyone for a marketing video for Christmas and New year for the team which includes her husband. And surprise bonus, their children. You decide how it goes. Thanks!! :)))

my masterlist can be accessed here

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

36 - andrew shovlin x 12 - marketing!fem!reader

Reader pitches the idea for toto

They make the video for toto

Someone decides to make one for her too

They film shov, who cannot stop laughing

He brings the kids in

They watch the video

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @camelliaflow3r, @pear-1206

They plan this. I know it and I called it. Gonna miss him🥺

december 18, 2020. december 18, 2024.

best day of his career. worst day of his career.

mr and mrs hulkenberg - nh27

hello!!! welcome to my first EVER request 😍 ofc its for our lord and savior nico!! absolutely love love love him <3 thank you so much @pear-1206 for this ask! i had an absolute blast writing it, even though i actually have NO idea how to end these types of fics 😭😭

content warning: use of y/n, fem reader, a little suggestive, mr hulkenberg is so inlove with you, german..? NO PHOTOS USED ARE MINE

WARNING: this is an 18+ blog! minors and ageless blogs please DNI! i am not responsible for the content you consume.

wc: 272

if nico was the hulk, you were betty ross. well, nico probably wouldn't last a day as the hulk, and he would probably be very concerned if his wife was a falcon-esque superhero. actually, he'd think that's pretty cool, being a husband to a superhero. a public superhero that is- you're a superhero in his eyes regardless. you were always there for him, even if you weren't there in person. he knew, he always knew. nico and you, you and nico, you two were an unstoppable force.

nico dragged himself into bed, snaking his arm around your stomach and pulling you into his chest. you looked so good, all tired and cozied up. nico was feral when it came to you. fucking feral when your eyes were half shut and he could basically manhandle you. it didn't matter how tired he was, he was always ready to mess you up- if you wanted of course. he was more than happy to leave you be and take care of himself... himself. maybe his age was coming to him, but just looking at you made him want to come. "liebchen... (dear)" he whispered into your ear. his voice, already deep from exhaustion, seemed to drop even lower. "look so good" his fingers ventured lower and lower, until they came to stop above the elastic of your pajama shorts. he smirked when he felt your body shifting into his touch.

"just say the word, y/n" he whispered, pleaded even. it was almost pathetic, how smitten he was about you. "i'll stop if you say so.." you didn't say stop.

Anything for Toto Wolff with wife reader including their son, Jack!!! Fluff. Thanks!! :))

Hii I hope you enjoy my first request as a one-shot about Toto :)

The time you've been waiting for has arrived—summer break. Jack doesn't have school, and Toto can finally relax even though he always says his work never ends. Your family is together, and you couldn't be happier.

This year, you've decided to return to the Maldives, the paradise where you and Toto celebrated your honeymoon five years ago. Time has flown by so quickly. At first, people judged your relationship with Toto because of the age gap, but with time and Jack's presence, you've learned to ignore others' opinions and cherish every second of your love.

The gentle hum of the seaplane filled the air as it glided over the crystal-clear waters of the Indian Ocean, the endless expanse of blue dotted with the green jewels of the Maldives' islands. You glanced over at Jack, his eyes wide with wonder as he pressed his face against the window, marveling at the view below. Toto, sitting beside you, reached over and squeezed your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. The excitement was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness.

As the seaplane descended toward the private island resort where you had spent your honeymoon, memories flooded back. The island had been a sanctuary for you and Toto, a place where you could escape the world and revel in your love. Now, returning with Jack made the experience even more special, a testament to the life you had built together.

The moment you stepped off the seaplane, the familiar scent of saltwater and tropical flowers enveloped you. Jack let out a delighted laugh as he ran ahead, his feet kicking up sand. You and Toto followed hand in hand, savoring the warm sand beneath your toes.

The villa was just as you remembered, with its open-air design allowing the ocean breeze to flow through. Jack's eyes lit up at the sight of the infinity pool merging with the sea beyond. "Can we go swimming, Mommy? Please?" he begged, his excitement infectious.

"Of course, sweetheart," you replied, ruffling his hair. "But let's unpack first and get settled in."

As you and Toto unpacked, you couldn't help but steal glances at him. He looked as handsome as ever, his hair slightly tousled from the journey, a relaxed smile on his lips that seemed reserved just for you. He caught you staring and raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "What are you thinking about, mein Liebchen?"

"Just how lucky I am," you replied, stepping closer to wrap your arms around his waist. "To be here with you and Jack. To have this life."

He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "I'm the lucky one," he murmured. "You've given me everything I could ever want."

Later that evening, after a long swim and a delicious dinner, the three of you settled on the beach to watch the sunset. Jack built sandcastles nearby, his laughter filling the air as the waves lapped at the shore. You leaned against Toto, his arm around your shoulders, drawing you close.

"Do you remember our first night here?" you asked, looking up at him.

He chuckled softly. "How could I forget? We danced under the stars, and later made love under them."

A blush covered your cheeks as you remembered that magical night and the years you've shared. "Through everything, you've been my rock."

"And you, mine," he replied, his gaze intense. "I love you more each day."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, you felt a profound sense of contentment. Jack ran over, plopping down between you and Toto, a tired but happy smile on his face.

"This is the best day ever," he declared, snuggling against you.

You exchanged a look with Toto, your hearts swelling with love for this beautiful, perfect moment. The future stretched out before you, full of promise and joy. No matter what came your way, you knew you would face it together, as a family.

Woke up at like 6:40 am (I sleep at 7:30 the night before because I'm so tired, woke up a few times that night until morning), go out for my license, encounters like 3 or 4 cops on the way there (luckily we didn't get pulled over), get back home, had a fight with the entire colony of ants in my bedroom (all is good now🥴), my gramps are being difficult (he's sick), my little brothers being difficult (he's also tired from school), had mental breakdown, cried in the bathroom cause I wanted to hit someone and just shout at someone but still survive the day cause my parents got me cake and food😁😁. On top of that, it's my 20th birthday (12th June). So happy birthday to myself!!! And yeah, summarize my whole birthday cause I wanted someone to know🥺🥺🫂

Ps: Happy birthday to everyone!!!! Whatever or whenever yours is, hope you have a good one and enjoy yourself!!!! ❤️❤️

Don’t Judge a Book by Its Cover

Toto Wolff x Reader

Summary: a wealthy older man with a starry-eyed younger woman — it’s a tale as old as time and a scene the saleswoman has seen countless times before … or is it?

The showroom gleams under harsh fluorescent lights, every surface polished to a mirror finish. Cars, sleek and expensive, are lined up like jewels in a case. The hum of quiet conversation fills the space, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter or the soft clink of champagne glasses.

It’s another day at the auto show, and the saleswoman, tall and sharp-eyed, watches it all with a thin veneer of polite disinterest. She’s been here long enough to know who’s serious and who’s just here to gawk.

She spots them before they even step into her section. The man is hard to miss — tall, broad-shouldered, with the kind of commanding presence that makes people step aside without even realizing it. His suit is tailored to perfection, probably costs more than her monthly salary.

And then there’s the girl — no, the woman — beside him. You’re much younger, that’s clear. You look out of place, wide-eyed and excited like a kid in a candy store, dressed in something trendy but understated, a deliberate contrast to the man’s sophistication.

The saleswoman’s eyes narrow as she watches you both approach. She’s seen this before — older man, younger woman, the kind of relationship that’s all too common in these circles. She doesn’t have to guess who’s footing the bill here.

“They’re all stunning,” you say, your voice carrying over the murmur of the crowd as you walk beside the man. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Take your time,” the man says, his voice low, accented, and rich with an authority that’s clearly second nature to him. He’s smiling at you, and there’s a warmth there that the saleswoman finds almost disarming. Almost.

She steps forward, her professional smile firmly in place, and approaches the two of you. “Good afternoon,” she says, her tone perfectly neutral, though there’s an edge to it, just enough to make her feel superior in this little interaction. “Is there anything in particular you’re interested in today?”

You look up at the man, a slight question in your eyes, as if asking for permission to speak. The saleswoman notices this, of course, and it only confirms what she already thinks.

“The Porsche 911 S/T,” you say, your voice gaining a little confidence as you look back at her. “It’s — wow, it’s incredible.”

The saleswoman allows herself a small, condescending smile. Of course, you’d go for something flashy like that. “A beautiful choice,” she says smoothly. “Though it’s not currently available for sale. It’s more of a display model for now.”

You look disappointed, but before you can say anything, the man steps in. “Is that so?” He asks, his tone polite but firm. “And when will it be available?”

“Not for a few months, I’m afraid,” she replies, keeping her smile in place even as she feels a flicker of unease at the intensity in his eyes. “But we can certainly take your information and let you know the moment it is.”

You’re distracted by another car nearby — a sleek, silver Audi R8 — and the man follows your gaze. “Excuse me for a moment,” he says to the saleswoman, already moving toward the car that has caught your attention. She watches him go, a tightness forming in her chest.

You’re bending slightly, peering into the Audi’s interior, running your fingers over the smooth leather seats. The man is right behind you, his hand resting lightly on your lower back, a gesture that’s both protective and possessive.

“What do you think of this one?” He asks, leaning in close, his breath warm against your ear. You smile, and it’s a real smile, the kind that makes your whole face light up.

“It’s beautiful,” you say, your voice soft, almost reverent. “But I think I’m still in love with the Porsche.”

He chuckles, and the sound is deep, genuine. “You have good taste.”

The saleswoman doesn’t hear what you say next, but she sees the way you look up at him, like he’s the only person in the room. She almost rolls her eyes. Of course, you’re infatuated. Who wouldn’t be, with a man like that?

But there’s something else, something in the way he looks at you that makes her pause. There’s affection there, sure, but it’s more than that. It’s something deeper, more complicated.

He straightens up, leaving you to admire the Audi, and makes his way back to the saleswoman. She steels herself, ready to resume the dance of negotiation, but his next words take her by surprise.

“I want to buy the Porsche for my partner,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

She blinks, momentarily thrown. “As I mentioned earlier, sir, it’s not for sale at the moment. But we can-”

“You misunderstand,” he interrupts, his eyes locking onto hers with a quiet intensity. “I’m not asking if it’s for sale. I’m telling you I want to buy it.”

The saleswoman feels a prickle of irritation, but she keeps her expression neutral. “I’m afraid that’s not possible, Mr …”

“Wolff,” he says, his voice steady. “Toto Wolff.”

The name rings a bell, and she stiffens slightly. Of course, she’s heard of him. Everyone in this business has. But she’s not about to let him walk all over her just because he’s some big shot.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Wolff, but even for you, the car isn’t available. It’s a prototype, and it won’t be released for sale until-”

He cuts her off with a low laugh, and there’s something almost dangerous in the sound. “For me,” he says slowly, as if explaining something very simple to a child, “they’ll make it available.”

She opens her mouth to protest, but the words die in her throat. There’s a look in his eyes that makes it clear this isn’t a man who’s used to hearing the word no. And she realizes, with a sinking feeling, that he’s right. If Toto Wolff wants that car, he’s going to get it.

The saleswoman swallows hard, her professional composure beginning to crack around the edges. “I’ll need to speak with my manager,” she says finally, her voice losing some of its earlier confidence.

“Please do,” he replies smoothly, his gaze flicking back to where you’re still admiring the Audi, completely unaware of the tension playing out behind you.

She turns on her heel, making her way to the back office with quick, clipped steps. The nerve of him, she thinks, but even as she seethes, she knows what the outcome will be. No one says no to someone like Toto Wolff.

As she waits for her manager to confirm the inevitable, she casts a glance through the glass wall of the office, watching you and him from a distance. You’re laughing at something he’s said, your hand resting on his arm, and for a moment, the saleswoman feels a strange, unwelcome pang of something close to envy.

It’s not just the money or the power that he has — though there’s plenty of that — it’s the way he looks at you, like you’re the only thing that matters. Like he would move mountains just to see you smile.

The manager finally appears, a mix of excitement and nerves on his face as he hurries over to speak with Toto. The saleswoman stays back, watching as they exchange words, her earlier confidence completely drained. She knows what’s coming, and sure enough, after a few minutes, the manager gestures for her to come forward.

“Mr. Wolff,” the manager says, his tone obsequious, “we’d be more than happy to arrange the purchase of the Porsche for you. It’s not something we typically do, but in your case, we can make an exception.”

Toto gives a small nod, as if this is exactly what he expected. “Good,” he says, then glances over at you, still absorbed in the Audi. “I’ll take care of the details later. For now, I’d prefer if my partner remains unaware of the purchase.”

The manager nods quickly. “Of course, of course. Discretion is our priority.”

The saleswoman feels a fresh wave of irritation as the manager all but trips over himself to please Toto. But what bothers her even more is the realization that she was wrong. This isn’t a simple sugar relationship, despite what she first thought. There’s something real here, something that makes her uncomfortable in ways she can’t quite put into words.

As Toto walks back over to you, the manager gives the saleswoman a sharp look, silently instructing her to follow his lead. She pastes on her best smile, swallowing her pride, and follows after him.

You don’t notice the shift in the atmosphere when Toto returns to your side. You’re too engrossed in the car, asking him questions about its specs and design, your enthusiasm infectious. The saleswoman watches the two of you interact, trying to reconcile the easy, genuine affection she sees with her initial assumptions.

“So,” Toto says, leaning in a little closer to you, “if you could choose any car here, which one would it be?”

You bite your lip, clearly torn, but finally, you sigh. “I know it’s silly, but I keep coming back to the Porsche. It’s just … it’s perfect.”

His smile widens, and the saleswoman feels a pang of something she refuses to name. “Then the Porsche it is,” he says softly, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.

You laugh, a little embarrassed. "Toto, you can't just buy it because I like it. It's not even for sale."

He chuckles, a warm, deep sound that makes you feel like you’re the only one in the room. “You’d be surprised what’s possible.”

The saleswoman shifts uncomfortably, watching as Toto brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering a moment too long to be purely casual. You smile up at him, oblivious to everything except the man in front of you.

She clears her throat, forcing herself back into the conversation. “Actually, we can make arrangements for the Porsche. If you’d like, we can finalize the details and set up delivery.”

You blink, surprised. “Really? But I thought-”

Toto smiles, squeezing your hand gently. “It’s yours, if you want it.”

Your eyes widen, and for a moment, you’re speechless. Then you throw your arms around him, pressing your face into his chest as you mumble a heartfelt, “Thank you.”

The saleswoman watches, the professional smile on her face feeling more like a grimace now. She doesn’t understand it, doesn’t understand you or him, but she knows she was wrong.

You pull back, looking up at Toto with a softness in your eyes that’s almost too much to bear. “I don’t even know what to say,” you whisper.

“Just be happy,” he murmurs back, his voice tender in a way that makes the saleswoman want to look away.

And for a moment, she does. She turns her gaze to the gleaming cars, the reflections of the showroom lights bouncing off their polished surfaces. When she looks back, you’re both still there, lost in each other, completely oblivious to the rest of the world.

The saleswoman feels a strange, hollow emptiness settle in her chest as she turns to finalize the sale, realizing that perhaps, despite everything, this wasn’t about money or power at all.

Perhaps it was just about love.

***

The estate in Oxfordshire is nothing short of palatial, its sprawling grounds stretching out in every direction, bordered by neatly trimmed hedges and ancient oaks. The driveway is long and winding, leading up to a mansion that looks like it could have been lifted straight out of a Jane Austen novel — grand, elegant, with an air of timeless sophistication.

The saleswoman sits in the passenger seat of the delivery truck, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her jacket. She’s never been nervous about a delivery before, but then again, she’s never delivered to someone like Toto Wolff before.

Beside her, the driver is humming along to a tune on the radio, completely at ease as they turn onto the estate’s private road. She glances at the rearview mirror, catching sight of the Porsche 911 S/T, pristine and gleaming, with an oversized red bow affixed to the roof. It looks absurd, she thinks, a toy fit for a princess.

It takes several minutes to reach the front of the house, the tires crunching softly over the gravel. The saleswoman feels a knot tighten in her stomach as they pull to a stop.

She’s here to oversee the delivery, to make sure everything goes smoothly, but part of her wonders if this is all a colossal waste of time. Surely, she could’ve sent someone else. But she’d insisted on coming herself—perhaps out of some twisted sense of curiosity, or maybe it was just her bruised pride.

The driver cuts the engine, and there’s a brief moment of silence before the door to the mansion opens. Toto steps out first, his movements unhurried, as if he’s in no rush at all. And then you appear beside him, your hand lightly resting on his arm as you walk out together.

“Here we go,” the driver mutters, giving her a nod before he hops out to start the unloading process.

The saleswoman takes a deep breath, composing herself before she steps out of the truck. Her heels sink slightly into the gravel as she approaches, her professional smile back in place. Toto greets her with a nod, his expression unreadable, while you give her a warm, if somewhat shy, smile.

“I hope the drive wasn’t too difficult,” Toto says, his voice smooth and polite, but there’s a hint of something more behind his words. An expectation that everything will, of course, be perfect.

“Not at all, Mr. Wolff,” the saleswoman replies quickly, her smile tightening. “It was a pleasure, really.”

You step forward, your eyes wide with excitement as you look past her to the truck. “Is it …” you ask, your voice filled with a mix of disbelief and anticipation.

The driver is already lowering the truck’s ramp, and as the Porsche comes into view, you let out a small gasp. “It’s beautiful,” you whisper, taking a step closer, your hand still clutching Toto’s arm. “I can’t believe it’s really here.”

Toto watches you with a soft smile, the kind of smile that the saleswoman has started to recognize as reserved only for you. “I told you it would be,” he says quietly, as if this moment is just as special for him as it is for you.

The saleswoman clears her throat, drawing their attention back to her. “We took extra care during the transport,” she says, trying to regain some control over the situation. “Everything is exactly as it was when it left the showroom.”

“Thank you,” Toto says, but his focus is already back on you as you approach the car, your fingers brushing over the sleek lines of the Porsche as if you’re afraid it might disappear if you touch it too firmly.

You circle the car slowly, taking it all in, and for a moment, the saleswoman feels like an intruder in this private moment. She watches as you turn back to Toto, your eyes bright with unshed tears. “I don’t even know what to say,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.

He steps closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “I just want you to be happy.”

The saleswoman averts her gaze, the tenderness of the moment making her uncomfortable. She’s seen plenty of couples over the years, but there’s something about the way you and Toto interact that feels … different.

It’s not just the age difference, though that’s part of it. It’s the way he looks at you, like you’re the most precious thing in the world, and the way you look at him, like he’s your anchor in a storm.

The driver interrupts her thoughts as he finishes unloading the car. “All done here,” he says cheerfully, handing the keys over to Toto with a grin. “She’s all yours.”

Toto takes the keys with a nod of thanks, but instead of pocketing them, he holds them out to you. “Would you like to take her for a spin?”

Your eyes widen, and you laugh, a light, joyful sound that echoes in the evening air. “Now? I haven’t even driven a car like this before!”

“There’s a first time for everything,” he replies, his tone teasing yet encouraging. “And I trust you completely.”

You hesitate for a moment, glancing at the car and then back at Toto. The saleswoman can see the internal debate playing out on your face — excitement warring with nervousness. But then, with a deep breath, you take the keys from him, your fingers brushing against his as you do.

“Okay,” you say, your voice firming with determination. “Let’s do it.”

The saleswoman watches as you climb into the driver’s seat, adjusting the mirrors and running your hands over the steering wheel like you’re trying to familiarize yourself with every inch of the car. Toto takes the passenger seat beside you, and for a brief moment, the saleswoman catches a glimpse of his hand resting on your knee, a gesture that’s both reassuring and intimate.

She’s pulled out of her thoughts when the driver nudges her, motioning toward the truck. “We should get going,” he says, glancing over at the car. “Looks like they’ve got everything under control.”

But the saleswoman doesn’t move. She’s rooted to the spot, watching as you and Toto pull away from the estate, the Porsche purring softly as it glides down the driveway. There’s something about the scene that feels almost cinematic, like she’s watching a moment that she’s not supposed to be a part of.

The car disappears around a bend in the road, and the saleswoman finally exhales, not realizing she’s been holding her breath. She turns back to the driver, who’s looking at her with mild curiosity.

“Everything okay?” He asks, cocking his head to the side.

She forces a smile, pushing down the strange mix of emotions churning in her chest. “Yeah,” she says, though the word feels hollow. “Everything’s fine.”

They load back into the truck, the engine roaring to life as they begin the long drive back to the showroom. The saleswoman stares out the window, her thoughts racing, replaying the scene over and over in her mind.

She tries to tell herself that it’s just another delivery, just another rich couple flaunting their wealth. But no matter how hard she tries, she can’t shake the image of the way Toto looked at you, like you were his entire world.

The driver’s voice cuts through her thoughts as he asks, “So, you think they’re the real deal?”

She turns to look at him, frowning slightly. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs, keeping his eyes on the road. “I mean, a guy like him, a girl like her … you think it’s more than just the money?”

The saleswoman hesitates, her fingers curling around the edge of her seat. She wants to dismiss it, to laugh it off and say that of course it’s just about the money. But the words stick in her throat, refusing to come out.

“Yeah,” she finally says, her voice quieter than she intended. “I think it is.”

The driver nods, seemingly satisfied with her answer, and they fall into silence once more. But the saleswoman can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted, that this delivery has left her with more questions than answers.

As they drive away from the estate, the sun dips lower, casting long shadows across the road. The saleswoman stares at them, lost in thought, wondering what it must feel like to be loved the way Toto loves you.

She knows she’ll never have an answer to that question, but as the truck rumbles down the road, she can’t help but think that maybe — just maybe — there’s more to life than the things she’s always taken for granted.

And for the first time in a long time, she finds herself longing for something she can’t quite put into words.