Reblog Because Zhou Deserves More Attention And Appreciation!!! 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻❤️❤️❤️

REBLOG IF I CAN MESSAGE YOU 'HEY' AND START A FRIENDSHIP.

always gonna re-reblog

Mick🫂❤️Simi

🥺🥺

“what my dad was to Sebastian, he is for me”

“you remind me a lot of your dad”

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.

Could you do Toto Wolff with wife reader? He's down bad for her and always looking out for her. Like giving her his jacket whenever it rains or when she doesn't have one; tiring her hair when it is getting on her face; holding her hands tightly/ hugging during the celebration and anything else. The team could see that and tease him endlessly. Just something fluff and romantic. Thanks!! :))

wifey. toto wolff.

toto wolff x author wife!reader

in which toto might as well have "i love my wife" tattooed on his forehead

warnings- cursing. the fluffiest fluff known to man.

author's note: this was so much fun to write! please do keep on sending requests, the more detailed the better!

being a busy woman meant that you were not the kind of woman to attend every race and toto understood this well. you were an author with a cult following that were always waiting for your next book to be out. your name had been at the top of the new york best sellers list more times than anyone could keep track of and you were always being praised for your work. this meant book tours, charity events and constantly brainstorming book ideas with your publisher.

this is why it had been so easy to surprise toto by attending the silverstone grand prix. you had told him that you were going to be in los angeles attending a big meeting with an american based publisher. however when you left your home in the english countryside you went to a hotel and not an airport.

usually you would never lie to toto but in your mind this was a good lie and you knew that toto was going to be happy about it so you weren't worried about any negative reaction, you were just glad that you were going to get to see your husband in the middle of an incredibly busy racing season.

the press went mad when they caught sight of you climbing out of a car parked at the paddock gates of silverstone. this was the first race that you had attended this season and every photographer was dying to get a glimpse of the woman that had toto wolff's heart in the palm of her hand.

you gave a graceful smile and a wave to the press but quickly made it through the paddock gates, excited to surprise your husband with your presence. your eyes scanned the people hanging out around the paddock looking for your man and soon enough your eyes landed on a large form clothed in a white shirt and slacks, you could recognize that back anywhere.

the drive to survive crew were currently stood in front of toto filming the team principle as he went about his day. one of the producers noticed you in the back ground and you winked at him giving him a thumbs up, telling him that he should film what happened next. you walked behind toto getting on your tiptoes so your hands could reach his eyes, "guess who?", you giggled.

"schatje!", he smiled brightly as he turned to look at you, his arms instantly going to their rightful place around your waist, "this is a long way from los angeles my love"

"guess my plane got lost", you laughed softly pressing a quick gentle kiss to your husband's lips, hyper aware that the cameras were still there, your husband was a private man you weren't sure whether he would be comfortable properly kissing you in front of a film crew.

"i deserve a proper kiss darling", he hummed before pulling you in for a long loving kiss one hand gently cupping your cheek as the other rubbed circles on the small of your back. once you pulled away toto made sure to keep his arm around your waist, just wanting to have physical contact with you.

toto turned to face the cameras addressing the camera directly, "this is my wife y/n. she has a very busy work life so she doesn't tend to attend races", he explained, "so it is safe to say that this is the best surprise ever", you were just stood by his side looking at your husband with pure adoration behind your eyes as he continued to speak a little to the camera before the crew went to go and talk to the mclaren garage.

toto took your hand and pulled you into the mercedes garage a bright smile on his face. toto leant down to press a kiss to your forehead "i love you so fucking much doll", he whispered into your ear.

"i love you too toto"

you spent fp1 and fp2 sat in the garage with carmen, someone you met when george first signed with mercedes, someone that you considered a good friend. "i swear, i have never seen toto this happy, he was in a bit of a mood this morning but as soon as he saw you he brightened up", carmen explained and it warmed your heart to hear that. you and your husband did not make many public appearances together, both liking to keep your professional lives professional and personal lives personal but whenever people saw the two of you in the same room they were forever commenting on how toto was a different man around you, how he was softer and more forgiving if you were about.

the first two practice sessions of the weekend had not gone as well as toto had hoped but he didn't seem to focus on the bad result as much as usual. instead toto decided to take you on a walk along the paddock giving you a tour of one of his favourite race tracks in the entire world.

you attentively listened as toto spoke to you about the different garages and the stragies he thought each team was going to use that weekend. he even introduces you to various people along the paddock, always introducing you as his wife as if it was not obvious by the way your fingers were interlocked. as you walked typical english weather began to hit the paddock, starting with a light drizzle of rain that within five minutes turned into full pelting rain drops.

at this point toto was half was through his little tour of the paddock and he did not want to stop so instead he dipped into a near by hospitality suite and stole grabbed an umbrella. he quickly returned to your side opening the umbrella and holding it over your head keeping you completely sheltered from the rain but he was still in the rain. "you can get in here too toto", you stated.

"but then you will not be fully covered, i can't have that dear", he spoke matter of factly and you knew better than to argue with your husband so you continued to walk with him. by the time you were back at the mercedes garage your husband was sopping wet and you were bone dry but toto was happy as ever, how couldn't he be? he had you by his side.

the next day you had decided to stay at your hotel for fp3 as your husband had kept you rather busy the night prior and you decided you wanted a little bit of a rest before the qualifying session. you had just gotten out of the shower when your phone buzzed with a phone call from your husband, one that you answered as soon as it popped up on your screen.

"schatje, the car is fast. we were first and second fastest"

"oh toto that is great love"

"i might be a little overzealous but i have a good feeling about this weekend. but that might just be because my good luck charm is in the paddock"

you laughed down the phone, "well dear i will be there in an hour to watch qualifying"

"okay honey, i love you"

"i love you too"

meanwhile both lewis and george had overheard toto's phone conversation with you and were giggling like school boys, "man he is so whipped", george spoke making lewis laugh.

"it is cute, they have been like this forever. when i joined merc they had been married a year and they were just as soppy now as they were then"

the drivers were just amazed as to how a man so intimidating could become a massive softie whenever it came to you.

your make up had taken a little longer than you had anticipated but there was no way you were going to miss the qualifying session so you had rushed getting ready and getting to the mercedes garage. in doing so you had managed to forget to tie your hair up. the wind in the paddock always made your hair go wild so whenever you attended a race you brought an ermegency hair band with you.

toto noticed that your hair was down as soon as you walked into the garage. you had been talking to carmen when toto had come up behind you and carded his fingers through your hair, carefully collecting it up into a neat ponytail while you continued you conversation. once satisfied with how your hair looked he kissed your shoulder, "i know that is how you like it my love", you thanked him already used to how doting your husband could be.

the qualifying session had been one of the best that you had seen. and the smile on your husband's face warmed your heart, there was just something so nice about watching toto wholeheartedly enjoy his job. you had been by his side through it all. you had been married to him for one year when he became the team principle of mercedes, so you had seen the highs and lows of the job. you had been the one to comfort toto when the news of lewis signing to ferrari hit. you were always there to help him pick up the pieces so it was nice to get to see the good parts of his job and how happy it made your husband.

"love come here", toto had spoken once the session was over and you did as you had been asked making your way over to where toto was sat at a desk with his laptop in front of him. he pulled you to sit in his lap. he then showed you all of the lap times thinking out loud about the possible strategies they could use in the race to maintain lap times like that. you didn't properly understand the things that he was saying but you didn't care you could listen to his voice forever and you knew that talking things out loud was how he worked best and you were more than willing to be the person that he spoke to.

the actual race had been the most thrilling one that you had ever been to. it had been complete emotional whiplash watching three british drivers fight tooth and nail for a home win. you had gotten worried when george dnf'd as the chances of a mercedes win had halved but you did not let your face show it. you just kept your eyes glued to the screens in the garage, occasionally glancing at your husband in race mode just to check in and make sure that he was not over thinking. when lewis took the lead you began to chew on your lip, just hoping that this was it. that lewis was going to win a race. and when his car crossed that finish line you burst out into a cheer, the brightest smile on your lips.

you were celbrating with a few of the engineers that you knew really well when toto ran over to you he hugged you tightly pulling your feet off the ground for a moment before placing you back down just so he could kiss you, "i have to go to the podium but i had to see you first my love", he spoke before his assistant dragged him away and towards the podium.

leaving you stood there watching him. the proudest wife in the entire world.

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 🫶🏾

Truly amazing!!! Feeling blessed for this year and what a performance for all!!! See you next year!! 💪🏻🤛🏻✌🏻

and with that, the 2024 season comes to an end

Finally Harry Kane won his first ever trophy!!!! 🥺🥺🥺 Thought the curse still on but not today it seems!!!!

Look how happy he is in the sec pic🥺🥺🥺😭😭

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.

Gonna miss them so much!!! 🥺🥺🥺

The horsemen of being screwed over by this sport this year...

❤️❤️❤️

Could you do Peter 'Bono' Bonnington with wife reader? She was at the garage, accompanied him. George had some technical issue and that's life only Lewis on the track for the team. After some battle, Lewis finally won and the garage erupted into chaos!! He couldn't stop smiling. It's been such a long time for the duo. Bono was looking so good on that podium. You decide how it goes. Fluff and maybe suggestive. Thanks!! :))

Something for Lewis and Bono. They deserve it!!

Hey sweetie, I managed to advance your order today (blame Lewis' beautiful victory for stimulating my creativity) and I hope it lived up to your expectations — s yes I am obsessed with validation from my readers!

I focused a little more on Bono (oops) but still delivered the dose of romance that you expect

You deserve it too, Pete! || Peter 'Bono' Bonnington