#conwlff

[totowlff]

chapter one — punishment

➝ request:  I would really like to read again a jealous Toto for the reader.

➝ word count: 7,2k

➝ warnings: smut

➝ author’s note: this one-shot took unnecessarily long time in my head as well as my drafts. unfortunately, i don't know how to write a porn without a plot, so let's just say i got too carried away. moreover, with a beautiful inspiration that was those two laps at spa-francorchamps, i couldn't leave this request aside.

You stared at the dark sky over Stavelot in silence as your fingers clenched the blue and red foam of the Sky Sports microphone in your hands.

The memory of one particular Sunday was vivid in your mind.

The wind.

The cold.

The rain.

— Y/N — you heard, behind you. Turning around, you found Jules, your producer, smiling.

— Yes? — you answered.

— They cleared the track for us. Shall we record the first segment?

You looked down the pitlane, where three cars were parked side by side. There was a crowd of onlookers, photographers, and cameras around them. On the left was the Mercedes-AMG ONE, with Lewis Hamilton leaning against the bodywork, talking to Bradley, Mercedes' communications director. In the middle was the GT3 EDITION 55”, which was currently being photographed by Steve, the team photographer. On the right was the 300 SEL 6.8 AMG, the famous Rote Sau. Behind the wheel, talking to George Russell, there he was.

Toto Wolff.

You knew of the team principal's reputation long before you even thought about the possibility of stepping into the paddock. When you were still working in the Sky Sports newsroom in London, you were always amused by the behind-the-scenes motorsport gossip from your colleagues who worked at the races. The words 'beautiful', 'charming' and 'charismatic' never failed to appear in their accounts of interactions with Toto. However, it never crossed your mind that you would someday witness his charm and good looks firsthand. 

The first time you stepped into a race paddock was to replace Georgina, one of the producers who worked with Ted Kravitz, producing content for the channel's website, who had contracted Covid-19 at the British Grand Prix. After some exceptional work on the two weekends you covered for your colleague, you were sent more frequently to produce on-location, helping to create stories that had a resounding impact. It didn't take long for you to reach the higher echelons of sports reporting, crafting more interesting stories and producing more daring reports.

However, your big break came when you found out that Lewis Hamilton would not race at the Sakhir Grand Prix after testing positive for Covid-19. With Ted stuck in a meeting, there was no one who could break the news live during the F1 Report. So, using all your courage — and steely nerve — you stood in front of a camera for the first time and gave the world first-hand information about the medical status of the seven-time world champion.

The following year, you were promoted to the role of being an on-camera personality, occasionally doing pit lane walks and media pen interviews. It was during one of these interviews, after qualifying for the Bahrain Grand Prix, that you had your first interview with a certain team principal.

— Hello, Toto, how are you?

— Fine — he replied, smiling. “They weren’t kidding, he does have a nice smile.”, you thought — And you?

— I’m fine as well. I would like to get your impressions of today’s qualifying session, especially considering the pace shown by Max Verstappen today.

— Well, we're very excited to have a real fight on our hands. Six teams in the top ten today and it's clear that simply being good won't be enough this year. But in this final year of the current set of regulations, we have to push the needle even further, not only to beat Red Bull, but also some of the other teams.

— Lewis and Valtteri were both unsatisfied with the reliability of the W12 during pre-season testing. Today, the car proved to be more reliable, but it still doesn't seem to be quite at the pace you’d like it to be.

— It’s true that conditions weren't favorable for us today, but we're definitely closer here than we were during the three days of pre-season testing. However, I can't say exactly what our position is in relation to Red Bull yet.

You smiled, satisfied with his answers.

— Right, Toto. Thank you very much for your insight.

He nodded, preparing to go to the next set of microphones. However, the team principal stopped, standing in front of you for a few seconds in the middle of the media pool before coming back to you.

— You're new around here, aren't you? — he asked, raising an eyebrow.

— I’m not new at Sky, no. I've been here since 2018.

— But, here, in the paddock, how long have you been here?

— Since last year.

— As a reporter?

— No. I was a producer. I started as an on-camera reporter this year.

Toto smiled.

— I understand now.

— Understand what?

— Why I don’t remember you.

— Well, with so many other media people around the paddock, it's pretty easy for us to blend in.

— Blend in? Not for someone as pretty as you are. — he replied with a mischievous smile before moving on to the next journalist who was waiting for him.

“And… He’s definitely charming”, you thought, trying to ignore the way your face was heating up, as well as the laughter from Daniel, your cameraman.

As the months passed, his compliments became more frequent. The looks you shared lingered more. His touches were no longer incidental. The tension between the two of you was palpable every time you crossed paths, whether in the paddock, the media pool, or the press conference room.

It was like a glass of water, filling drop by drop. 

— We're going to do the introduction, and after they've done the laps, you're going to talk to the three of them, okay? — Jules said to you as you walked towards the three cars in the pitlane.

— Right — you confirmed. You stopped at a point just to the right of the track, so that Daniel could capture all three cars in the same frame in a diagonal shot.

— Do you think it's better to keep still or move for these introduction shots?

— Moving. It’s more dynamic.

— Okay — you smiled — Let's go.

You grabbed your cell phone and quickly reviewed the talking points for your segment. “Talk about where we are, the reason, the cars, and the drivers”, you thought, reading the email sent by the Mercedes’ press office.

— Ready? — Daniel asked.

You hesitated, taking a moment to fix your hair and smooth your hands over your skirt one last time.

— Yes — you smiled.

With a thumbs up, the cameraman signaled you to begin.

— We are here at the Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps, celebrating the 55th anniversary of AMG. To celebrate in style, AMG has put together four great cars, as well as four… Or, rather, three, great drivers.

Behind the camera, Jules laughed at your phrasing.

— Now, Toto will be behind the wheel of this legendary 300 SEL 6.8 AMG, better known as the Red Pig. Lewis will be behind the wheel of this spectacular Mercedes-AMG ONE and George will drive the new GT3 EDITION 55, which you can see in the middle there. We also have Formula 1 Safety Car driver Bernd Mayländer who will be driving the AMG safety car, which is a modified AMG GT Black series. Let's take a look — you added, smiling.

A few seconds later, Daniel looked up at you

— Perfect, Y/N.

— Want to try a second time?

— Do we have time, Jules? — the cameraman asked.

You saw your producer wave to Bradley, who was still standing next to Lewis, pointing to his wrist, in a way of asking how much time they had there before the cars took to the track. The communications director held up two fingers, to which Jules simply responded with a raised thumb.

— No, we don't. Daniel, can you take some more filler footage?

— No problem — the cameraman replied, repositioning his device on his shoulder and heading toward the cars parked behind you. Meanwhile, Jules approached you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

— Shall we go to the pit lane?

You nodded, following your producer to the pit area.  It was starting to become busy due to preparations for the next day, when the first free practice sessions would take place at the circuit. Leaning back against the wall, you were making a concentrated effort not to look for those familiar brown eyes in the midst of the crowd of people, so you looked up, staring at the dark clouds over the circuit.

— You think it will rain? — you asked quietly, placing the microphone on top of the concrete.

Jules looked up.

— I saw that there was a good chance of rain for this weekend.

You pursed your lips.

— That’s shit — you muttered.

— I hope you brought your raincoat this time — the producer said, nudging you with his elbow.

— I did — you said with a smirk, your memory taking you back to the year before. 

It was a rainy Sunday on the same circuit, and it was the day that the metaphorical glass, filling drop by drop as you and Toto flirted and teased each other, spilled over.

You had always prided yourself on being a woman who was always prepared for any eventuality. However, on the wettest weekend of the season, on a trip to the racetrack in the Ardennes forest, an area famously prone to heavy rainstorms, you'd somehow managed the feat of forgetting your raincoat in London. 

“Dumb bitch”, you thought, after you left the third official merchandise tent without finding a way to protect yourself from the storm that fell on Stavelot.

Accepting the consequences, you decided to keep working, ignoring the weather-related adversities. However, with you running up and down the paddock so much during the red flag period, with only your normal jacket to protect you from the elements, it wasn’t long before you ended up completely soaked.

At one point in the afternoon, after yet another aborted race start, you were walking back to the media center when you felt your cell phone vibrate in your coat pocket. You sought shelter to check your messages and hadn't even noticed which tent you’d stepped under until you heard a familiar male voice behind you.

— You're soaking wet.

Turning around, you saw Toto's familiar smile. The team principal was seated at one of the hospitality tables. The hospitality area was otherwise completely empty.

— I didn't bring my raincoat.

— Bad weekend to leave it at home, huh?

You nodded, chuckling before looking back at your cell phone, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. You were trying to type a reply to Billy, Sky’s Formula 1 director, but your fingers didn't seem to want to respond.

— Are you cold? — Toto questioned you.

The question made you notice the chill building up in your body that you’d been ignoring until just then.

— No.

— I can see from here that you’re shivering, Y/N.

— It's nothing — you replied, trying to mask the tremor in your voice.

Toto got up from the table and approached you. He took your hands in his, the iciness of your cold, wet hands a stark contrast to the warmth of his.

— You're freezing — the team principal stated, rubbing your hands lightly, trying to impart some of his warmth.

— Seriously, it's okay — you said softly, trying to ignore the sudden wave of heat that coursed through your body, pushing away the chill you were feeling.

— No, no, you're going to get sick like this — Toto said, a worried look in his brown eyes.

— Toto, I'm fine, it's just water. I’m not going to melt.

He shook his head. He didn’t let go of your hand and took you, without a word, into the Mercedes motorhome. He led you up the spiral stairs, through the hallways, and to a frosted glass door. He opened it to reveal a small, simple office with a neat desk made of pale wood and a black office chair.

— I'll go get you a towel, don’t go anywhere — Toto said, disappearing down the hall.

Alone inside the small office, you looked at the shelves on the wall, decorated with potted plants, awards and picture frames with images of Toto at team celebrations, accompanied by his drivers. However, the photo that caught your attention the most was a photo of him with Niki Lauda. You smiled looking at it.

— Here you are — you heard him behind you. Turning around, you found the team principal holding out a rolled-up black towel to you. Taking the terry cloth in your hands, you unfurled it, noticing a logo embroidered in white thread. The logo was a pair of stylized wings that formed a shape that looked like the face of a lion.

— Is this Lewis’ towel? — you asked.

— Yes. I took it from his room.

— You don’t think he’ll get upset?

— I’m sure he won’t — Toto replied, giving you a wink. You felt your face heat up.

— I really hope so — you muttered, as you opened your wet coat.

Smiling, the team principal stepped behind you, helping you peel the soaked jacket from your body. Underneath, you wore a thin blouse that was also wet. The fabric was transparent now, and clinging to your curves. You were embarrassed as you hurried to dry yourself off, running the towel down your arms.

However, the damage was already done.

Looking up, you noticed that Toto was watching you carefully, taking in every detail that the wet shirt showed, his lips pressed together. In his brown eyes, you could see only one thing.

Desire.

— Well — you said, wrapping the towel around your shoulders — I just have to thank you for your kindness.

He blinked, as if he'd come out of a trance.

— It was no problem, Y/N. Really.

— Yes, but I appreciate it anyway. You didn't have to.

— Yes, I did. One of the best journalists in the paddock can't walk around soaking wet and risk catching pneumonia.

You felt like you could melt on the spot.

— I don't know how to repay you — you stammered.

— But I do — Toto smiled, taking a step forward.

In your chest, your heart was pounding.

— Do you want a kiss? — you asked, without hesitation.

Toto's eyes widened.

— Well — he began to stutter, his face red — I had something else in mind… I don't know, maybe a feature story about the team… Or even about me.

— Toto, I've watched enough romantic comedies to know what happens when a man and a woman are alone in a room for the first time after months of flirting and staring at each other.

— What’s that?

— They kiss. And then they have sex.

— And what do you want?

— With you? Both.

You couldn’t say anything else before Toto advanced on you, his lips on yours, releasing the tension of nearly six months of the game the two of you were playing with each other. You knew you wouldn't be leaving that office until he was fully sated, which was almost an hour later, after you'd had three orgasms on top of his desk, your moans echoing off the office walls.

You’d had many more since that day.

The sound of engines brought your focus back to the cars in front of you. With the track cleared, the two Mercedes drivers and team principal were already seated inside the vehicles for their exhibition lap, waiting for authorization to accelerate through the circuit. 

Soon enough, green lights lit up on the electronic panel, and the three of them shot down the main straight with the safety car behind, dozens of people in the stands and pit lane watching.

After two laps around the circuit, the four cars entered the pit area in a row, stopping in front of the Mercedes’ garage. It wasn't long before mechanics, photographers, cameramen and onlookers crowded around the vehicles, pointing and chatting about the cars.

— Shall we, Y/N? — Jules turned to you.

Picking up your mic again, you smiled.

— Yes, let’s go.

The two of you crossed the pit lane towards the point where the cars were gathered. The drivers were already outside the vehicles, their helmets abandoned on the seats, talking to each other about the laps, teasing and joking with each other. After hearing Toto's laugh after a comment from George, an involuntary smile appeared on your lips. It was your favorite sound.

— What are you smiling at? — Jules asked you, one eyebrow raised.

You blinked. The producer didn't know about your affair with Toto. Nobody did. It was a deal made by both of you, not just to protect each other’s privacy, but also to avoid any issues of you violating journalistic ethics. “You can’t sacrifice your career because of me”, you heard Toto say in your head.

— I was thinking of a question to ask Toto.

Jules looked around for the team principal.

— Then you'd better take advantage of the fact that he's free now and go ask him — he said, tilting his head in the Austrian's direction.

You saw Toto again and noticed that he was leaning against the red bodywork of the 300 SEL 6.8 AMG, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed to the ground. Before you even realized it, your feet were pulling you towards him, like a metal piece drawn to a magnet. Stopping beside him, you hesitated for a few seconds.

— Did you have fun? — you said.

— Who's asking? — he smiled, looking at the microphone in your hand.

— Toto…

— I need to know, so I know how to answer. Is it the journalist asking me, or the woman?

You leaned back against the red metal beside him.

— Both — you replied, the shadow of a smile on your lips.

— Well, to the journalist, I will say that I was looking forward to driving this car and that it was a lot of fun.

— And to the woman?

Toto brought his face close to your ear.

— I had more fun last night with you.

You looked at him, violent heat rising in your face. Noticing your flushed cheeks, Toto just smirked.

— I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that — you mumbled.

— Your face says otherwise, but that's okay.

You were silent, wondering what to say. “Didn't you have a question for him?”, you asked yourself, fiddling with the microphone awkwardly. When you were around him, it was as if your mind just went completely blank, leaving only room for the desire you felt for him.

— Do you want to record a segment with me? — Toto said, breaking the silence. Lifting your face to him, you smiled.

— Yes. We're doing a feature about AMG's anniversary and today's activities.

— What do you want me to talk about?

— I'll ask about the company and how it feels to be on the track. Nothing too difficult for you.

— Fine by me — he smiled, rising from the hood of the car. Signaling Daniel to come closer, you momentarily closed your eyes, mentally reviewing your questions for Toto. When you opened them again, you noticed he was watching you carefully, the corner of his mouth quirked into a smile.

— Can we start? — you asked him.

— Anytime, Y/N — Toto replied. Smiling, you lifted the microphone and nodded for Daniel to start recording.

— Well, Toto, what does it mean to celebrate AMG's 55th anniversary?

— AMG is synonymous with racing and high performance. For 55 years they've been at the forefront of pushing what's possible on four wheels, both on the track and on the road. And celebrating this history here, driving a car as special as the Red Pig, an icon in motorsport history, is very special.

— And what was it like to take those two laps here in Spa?

— Race drivers simply have the best job in the world. I don't spend a lot of days on the track, but even with this car, doing two laps at Spa reminds me how amazing that is — he concluded, smiling.

— Okay, thank you, Toto — you said, signaling Daniel to stop recording. When the cameraman lowered the camera, the team principal smiled back at you, leaning in closely.

— At your service, moja maleńka — he whispered, making your face heat up again at his nickname for you.The first time Toto had referred to you with those two words, you had no idea that they were even words at first. 

To you, it sounded like a sneeze.

— Bless you — you said, rolling over in bed to face him.

— What?

— Didn't you sneeze?

Toto laughed.

— No, I didn't sneeze.

You blinked, confused.

— So what was that?

— What was what?

— You whispered something.

He smiled.

— Yes — Toto said, running a hand through your hair, brushing strands out of your face — I said… Moja maleńka.

— Is that German? — you asked, raising an eyebrow.

— No. Polish.

— Do you speak Polish?

— Yes. My mother is Polish.

You were silent for a few seconds.

— Aren't you going to ask what it means?

— Should I?

— I think you would find it interesting.

— And what do words that sound like a sneeze mean?

— They mean… My little one.

Heat rose in your cheeks.

You've never been called that, not even by your parents.

“He's definitely charismatic”, you thought, a smile on your lips.

— Y/N, George is free now. Should we interview him? — you heard Daniel say in your ear. Taking one last look at Toto, you smiled at your cameraman, following him towards the point where the Brit was talking to your producer.

— Good afternoon, George, how are you?

— Good, and you?

— I’m fine as well — you replied — Shall we talk about your laps with the GT3 EDITION 55?

The Brit's blue eyes lit up.

— Let's do it! — he said, smiling.

Interviewing George was never difficult. The driver, in addition to being polite and intelligent, knew how to answer with confidence, without forgetting to put a pinch of British humor in his statements. Whenever you needed soundbytes, you knew you could count on him.

However, even his charm and good press presence didn't make George your favorite driver to interview

— Lewis is free now — Jules said, jerking his thumb at the man behind him.

Talking to Lewis Hamilton was a special thrill for you. If your passion for motorsport was born from watching Damon Hill lead Williams to glory, it was with the Stevenage driver that it came to full bloom. Watching him race as just a spectator was incredible, but watching him up close as a professional was a privilege that would never feel real to you.

— Good afternoon, Lewis — you approached him, greeting him with a hug — How are you?

— Much better now — he smiled — It's wonderful to drive a good car once in a while.

You chuckle, feeling awkward. That season was cruel. Not just to Mercedes, but to the British driver especially. After having his eighth title snatched from his hands at the last second, he went on to deal with a brand new and terribly temperamental car, the result of a new build regulations that Mercedes missed the mark on.

But with the new spending cap rules, there was nothing they could do to salvage the season other than discuss how incomprehensible and temperamental the W13 was. It was something Toto made a point of doing every race weekend that you spent with him, as he twirled a lock of your hair around his index finger or traced the features of your face with his finger.

— I can imagine how fun it was. Can we talk about it?

— Of course — Lewis replied, putting his hands on his hips.

Signaling Daniel to stand, you quickly fixed your hair, as well as running your hand quickly over your dress, trying to smooth any creases.

— You look great, Y/N — the Brit commented, a shy smile on his lips.

Looking up at him, you smiled.

— Thank you, Lewis.

Turning to face your cameraman, you waited for his signal to start, which came seconds later, with a nod.

— So, Lewis, tell us, what was it like driving the Mercedes-AMG ONE here in Spa?

— Celebrating the 55th anniversary of AMG here in Spa is something incredible, as we are talking about an iconic brand in the world of motorsport. But to do that while driving a car like this is very special to me. We work hard all year and we don't always have time to enjoy moments like this, so it's a really fantastic thing.

— We can see how excited you and George were, even competing at one point.

— Yeah, things got hot on the track — Lewis laughed.

— Toto was pushing you too, I don't know if you could see it, but we saw it here.

— Yes, I saw. He's a real racer, like me and George, and you can see his passion for it, even though he's cut some of the curves, from what I noticed in the rearview mirror.

You couldn't help but laugh. You knew that Toto had experience in rallying, endurance racing, and racing GT cars. However, you also knew that he wasn’t able to achieve success, which explained why he turned to business.

— I haven't seen the footage yet to say — you said, trying to catch your breath.

— I bet you'll enjoy the damage he did to the grass at Turn 11.

— I'm looking forward to seeing the track remodeling work — you smiled, waving your hand for Daniel to stop recording. After receiving confirmation that the cameraman had finished the job, you continued talking to Lewis for a few more minutes, listening to his impressions of the car he had just driven, as well as more harsh words about the W13. According to him, the team couldn’t nail down the tuning or set-up for a lot of tracks.

Distracted by Lewis' monologue about the car, you didn’t as someone approached behind you both. He touched your shoulder and you can't help but be a little startled by the sudden intrusion. Turning around, you found Toto with a serious expression.

— Y/N, can I talk to you?

You blinked.

— Yes, about what?

— Privately — Toto said in a low voice. His face was completely unreadable.

Those two words made a chill build up in your belly. Looking around, you noticed Jules talking to Daniel and Steve. “They won't even notice I'm gone”, you thought, before flashing a smile to the team principal.

— Okay, let's go — you replied — See you, Lewis.

The driver nodded at you with a smile. Looking back at Toto, you saw him gesturing for you to go ahead of him into the Mercedes pit area, a quick shortcut to access their hospitality, which was just behind the entrance to the team's garage. Heading towards the access to the paddock, you waved at an engineer before turning down the hall, past the wall where the headphones were kept. One of the hooks had a red hat hanging on it. How many stories have you heard about the owner of that red hat?

Walking silently down the hall, you had just passed the door of the Petronas fluid analysis lab when you felt a hand close around your arm, pulling you back. Guiding you with little delicacy, Toto moved you into the small lab that was inside Mercedes garage, releasing you only to slide the opaque glass door closed, locking the two of you inside.

— What are you doing? — you asked in a whisper.

Toto remained silent, staring at you with those chocolate-colored eyes, until he began to approach you, slowly. Almost instinctively, you started taking steps back, trying to keep the distance between the two of you. You were succeeding until you felt your back hit the wall.

“Fuck,” you thought, watching the team principal get closer and closer to you, the shadow of a smile on his lips as he stopped in front of you, his face inches from yours.

— Y/N — he whispered, placing his hands on your waist.

— Yes? — you replied softly, lifting your face to look him in the eyes.

Silence.

“What did I do?” you asked yourself.

Suddenly, in one swift movement, you found yourself with your back to Toto, your cheek against the wall. You felt his hot breath against your ear.

— What was going through your head out there?

You swallowed hard.

— What are you talking about?

His hands went down your side, caressing you.

— Your conversation with Lewis. What were you thinking?

— I… I was just… Doing… My job — you tried to sound confident, without any success.

— Your job is to interview drivers. Not to flirt with them — he said in a low voice.

— I… Wasn’t flirting… With anyone — you gasped, your apprehension turning into curiosity. You had never seen this rough, possessive side of him before, and you couldn’t deny that you were a little turned on.

— That's not what it looked like to me — Toto growled. His fingers were already on your hips, skimming the fabric of your dress in search of your panties. “If only I had put any on”, you thought, pursing your lips. Seconds later, you felt him press his body even more firmly against yours.

— Are you not wearing any panties, maleńka? — he asked in a low voice, his lips against your ear. His breath against your skin sent a shiver through your body, your pussy getting wet. Swallowing hard, you made an affirmative sound, the words stuck in your throat.

However, it wasn't enough for Toto.

With a not-so-gentle tug, he pulled your dress up, exposing your bare ass. Toto's hand roamed over your delicate skin, as if he was confirming what he'd already felt through the fabric. Suddenly, the sound of a slap filled the small lab space, accompanied by the gasp of surprise that escaped your lips. The sensation was not unfamiliar to you, as one of the first things Toto had done when he laid you on his desk that rainy Sunday was asking to slap your ass as punishment for months of teasing.

And you found, to your surprise, that you liked it.

— Can you answer me? — Toto whispered, his fingers ghosting over the spot where his hand had landed violently against your bottom.

— Yes — you stuttered, your voice shaky — I'm not wearing any panties.

— Why, maleńka?

You blinked. The reason you'd gone without underwear had been solely because of the unsightly panty lines that were visible in the dress you were wearing, which fit snugly against your body. However, seeing Toto's reaction, you couldn't help but wonder what he would have done if you’d gone without for any other reason. And with the opportunity to find out on the tip of your tongue, you decided not to waste it.

— Because I didn’t want to wear any — you replied, your voice firm and challenging.

Another slap, this time on the opposite side of the first.

This time, the sound that left your lips was nothing like a gasp. It was a moan of pleasure.

— Do you like it? — Toto's hand went back to massaging your butt, which was probably starting to turn red from the impact of his fingers against your buttock.

You muttered something that sounded like yes, nodding. It wasn't enough for Toto. In a split second, you felt his free hand go to your jaw, tilting your face back. Your gaze met his, his brown eyes tinged with a darkness you knew well.

— Words. I want to hear you.

The tone of his voice sent a wave of arousal through your body, your core pulsing. The hand that was on your face slid down, wrapping around your neck in a gentle grip, but enough so that the sensation went straight to your pussy, the wetness building more and more.

— Yes, I like it — your voice was barely audible.

— You're a bad girl, Y/N.

— Then… You should punish me — you replied, a teasing tone in your voice.

One more slap. One more groan.

You had never felt as aroused as you did at that moment.

— You talk too much for such a bad girl — he muttered, his hand caressing your aching skin.

— And you act too little for someone who wants to discipline me.

Another slap. Another moan.

However, this time, Toto didn't massage your ass as affectionately as you'd expected him to. You felt the team principal release your neck and bring both hands to your waist, turning your body so that you were facing him. There was nothing gentle about his movements now.

— So, you want to be punished? — Toto asked, leaning his forehead against yours.

— Yes, I do — you replied, whispering.

Smiling, he took your lips in a fierce kiss, his tongue unceremoniously invading your mouth. As one hand caressed the back of your head, guiding it subtly, the other moved down your spine, pulling your body against his, the fabric of his black race suit rubbing against your exposed skin.

You were so immersed in that kiss that you hardly noticed when Toto pushed you away from the wall, leading you through the cramped room to one of the lab benches, where Petronas engineers performed tests during the sessions. Pulling his face away from yours momentarily, the team principal's hands wrapped around your waist, boosting you up and placing you on the white countertop, your legs spread wide enough for him to position himself between them. With the bottom of your dress still rucked up around your hips, you were completely exposed to him. Something told you that was exactly how he wanted you.

Toto didn't need to say a word to tell you what the next step was. Bringing your fingers to the collar of the black and red jumpsuit, you opened it, revealing the zipper, pulling it down desperately, clumsily. Biting your bottom lip, with one quick movement, you peeled the overalls from his shoulders, allowing Toto to pull his arms through the sleeves, leaving only the white fireproof undershirt he was wearing. With his hands free, he lowered the overalls even lower, exposing his fireproof underwear, the outline of his erection evident beneath the thin fabric.

Looking up at you, Toto gave you a devilish grin before pulling the last layer down, exposing his cock. The sight sent a wave of arousal through your skin that felt like an electric shock. He knew the power he had over you and your body, and he was eager to use it.

— Do you like what you see? — the team principal whispered, while his fingers wrapped around his own dick, pumping slowly.

— Yes — you said, your voice shaky.

— Do you want this? — he asked you. The light glistened on the pre-cum spread along his length — Do you want my cock, maleńka?

— Yes — you replied, pleadingly. You could feel anticipation building up in your core to the point where it was almost painful. You needed it the same way you needed air to breathe. However, Toto wasn’t making any effort to approach you, to enter you, to make you moan his name with your nails digging into his shoulders.

Instead, he remained standing in front of you, one hand stroking his cock and the other squeezing one of your thighs, keeping your legs spread and still, your pussy completely exposed to him, wetness almost oozing out of you.

In the fog of your desire, you finally realized his intentions.

Denial. This was your punishment.

— Toto…

— What do you want, maleńka? — he asked softly, his thumb circling the head of his cock — Tell me what you want.

— You…

Toto looked at you with a devilish expression.

— But, you have me. I’m right here.

— I want you inside me, fucking me like the bad girl I am.

— After what you did today, do you think you deserve my dick?

— I was working, Toto — you whimpered, almost like a child who didn’t get any dessert — I just want you. I only think about you. There is only you.

— Do you only want me? — he moved toward you now.

— Yes, yes, yes — you gasped, your muscles tensing in anticipation.

With a smile on his lips, Toto moved even closer, positioning his cock at your entrance. His lips found your jaw, placing gentle kisses going up towards your ear. You felt a shiver of anticipation run through your body. “Finally, finally, finally,” you mentally repeated, your fingers finding the back of his neck, playing with his dark hair.

But instead of the pleasure you were desperate for, you felt his tip brush against your clit, your sensitivity making you nearly sob at his subtle movements. The sound made Toto smile against your skin.

— You look so pretty like this — he murmured, nibbling at a spot below your earlobe — Completely desperate for me.

His cock continued to brush through your folds, pressing lightly against your hole. You could feel the tears of agony building up in your eyes.

— Please, please, please — you moaned, squirming at the subtle touch.

— I'll give you what you want — Toto whispered — But you have to ask for it.

— Please, I want to feel you inside me — you gasped — I need to feel you. Please please. Let me feel you.

— Fine — he said.

Slowly, you felt Toto sliding inside you with no resistance. You were beyond soaked and ready for him. However, instead of penetrating you completely, he sank just the head of his cock in and retreated almost immediately. You searched his face and found a mischievous smile.

— Toto — you stammered.

He laughed.

— You asked me to feel my cock inside you. You felt it.

Something between an incredulous laugh and an agonized groan left your lips.

“Son of a bitch”, you thought.

— You're ridiculous, Wolff — you managed to say.

— And you're not being clear about what you want.

You rolled your eyes. However, instead of slapping you again for your insolence, Toto just leaned his forehead against yours, his brown eyes glued to yours.

— Tell me what you want — Toto whispered, brushing his nose against yours — And you'll have it.

You blinked, your breath caught in your throat.

— Fuck me. Just fuck me. Please.

He smiled. Not in a mischievous or provocative way, but sincerely.

Toto had finally heard what he wanted to hear.

Positioning yourself again at your entrance, you turned your head to the side, muscles tensing. However, holding your chin, he made you look at him again.

— I'm going to fuck you like you want. But… You will have to be quiet.

A nod of your head was the signal for Toto to penetrate you immediately. Stifling a cry at the sudden sensation of him inside of you, you felt pain and pleasure mingling in your belly.

It was everything you wanted.

It didn't take long for Toto to set a delicious rhythm, causing you to dig your nails into the muscles of his shoulders beneath the fireproof shirt. You strained to keep your mouth shut, trying not to make a sound, just as he had asked. However, when he found the right spot inside you, you couldn't resist emitting low grunts and moans.

— Yes, yes, yes — you muttered, as Toto attacked your neck, biting your skin with little delicacy. There would probably be marks. There would certainly be marks. But, you couldn't care less right now. This moment was worth every extra minute you'd have to spend hiding the evidence of your affair with him.

Focused on the sensation building in your abdomen, you received a new rush of pleasure as Toto's hand left your thigh and snaked between your legs. Finding your clit, his fingers began to draw quick, indelicate circles, making you expend a Herculean effort not to scream at the top of your lungs.

— You… Aren't… That bad… Maleńka — Toto gasped, quickening the movement of his hips against yours. With your heart racing, you didn't know what to say because of the fog of pleasure that clouded your mind, making you completely lose the power of language. You pulled him by the back of his neck towards your lips, in a deep kiss, backed by the wet sound of his cock against your pussy.

Your legs contracted, as did your abdomen.

You were close.

Very close.

Too close.

Until, suddenly, Toto stopped, causing a frustrated groan to escape your lips. Pulling his face slightly away from yours, he studied your face.

— Y/N, look at me — the team principal asked, his thumb stroking your cheek.

Your eyelids fluttered, the effort to open your eyes was almost unreal.

— Who makes you feel good?

— You — you gasped, the painful sensation of your aborted orgasm coursing through your body — Only you.

Toto smiled, bringing his hand to your neck. His fingers pressed lightly against your skin, just enough pressure to let you know he was there. “As if I needed a reminder,” you thought, your fingers moving up to his wrist, begging him not to let you go.

— Good girl.

Using your neck for support, he moved roughly inside you again, his cock touching the spot you needed most with each thrust. Parting your lips in a silent scream, you felt the pressure in your abdomen start to build again, making your legs shake and your spine arch.

— Yes, yes, yes, yes — you repeated, in a thin voice, almost desperately.

Somewhere, you heard Toto grunt, pulling one of your legs to his hip. The other followed, imprisoning him against you. The hand that was on your neck went down to your core, massaging your clit again.

— I… Ah… Yes… I will — you stuttered, your nails sinking deeper and deeper into Toto's shoulders.

— This, this, this — he muttered. And it was the last thing you heard before the pressure in your abdomen exploded.

Biting your bottom lip hard to keep from screaming, you felt a tsunami of pleasure relentlessly sweep through your body. Your legs were shaking uncontrollably, your chest rising and falling with your labored breathing. Not seeing, hearing or feeling anything around you, you were completely numb.

So numb that you didn't notice Toto continuing to move inside you, the contractions of your pussy pulling him along into his own climax. He released himself inside you, the sensation of his hot cum going unnoticed as you had still not yet returned to Earth. Then, he rested his palms on the countertop on either side of your thighs, resting his head on your shoulder, breathing heavily, completely exhausted.

For a few minutes, what you could hear inside the small laboratory was the sounds of both of you trying to catch your breath. It was definitely the craziest thing you had ever done in your life, but never had something so wrong felt so right.

— That was amazing — you mumbled, eyes half closed.

— Thanks, we're always working to provide the best experience — you heard Toto say, his voice muffled by your shoulder, making you giggle weakly.

Lifting his face to you, he brushed his nose lightly against yours. It was gentle and affectionate.

— Can I clean you up?

— Yes — you smiled.

Toto pulled out of you and the small sink that was in the corner of the lab room. Taking a handful of paper towels from the dispenser mounted on the wall, he walked over to you and began to gently wipe you down. Then he helped you down from the counter and helped you pull your dress down again, trying to smooth out the various wrinkles. Then it was his turn to clean up and get dressed again, pulling the pants and overalls back up again.

— Come here — you said, signaling him to turn around. Holding the rough fabric in your hands, you helped him put his arms through the sleeves of the racing suit, fitting it around his shoulders. Turning back to face you, Toto smiled.

— Can you help me with the zipper?

— Sure — you replied, finding the tab and zipping the jumpsuit again, finishing with the collar embroidered with the AMG logo.

— Dziękuję, moja maleńka.

You smiled, guessing what he had said to you.

— I don't know how to say 'you’re welcome' in Polish.

— Well, you could say… Nie mogę się doczekać, aż znowu mnie przelecisz.

You blinked, confused

— Something tells me that wasn’t just ‘you’re welcome’.

Toto pursed his lips, trying to contain a smile.

— It may be. Polish is complicated.

— Torger — you scolded him.

— Okay, Y/N, nie ma za co is fine.

You tried to reproduce the words, the phonemes unfamiliar on your tongue. Your pronunciation was heavily accented and unclear, and it made Toto laugh.

— Close enough — Toto said, kissing you on the forehead.

Once you both were cleaned up and put back together, you started thinking about how to leave the lab room and the Mercedes garage unnoticed. After a few minutes of discussing a plan, you concluded that the best thing would be for you to return to the pit lane, while Toto would go to the motorhome. Taking a deep breath and running your fingers through his hair one last time, you were about to open the door when you felt his fingers curl around your wrist, pulling you into a kiss.

— See you tonight?

— Yes — you smiled, giving him one last peck on the lips before opening the door and disappearing down the hall.

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[totowlff]

chapter two — domination

➝ after a bad race and a confession, it was up to you to turn that little game you and toto played at your favor. it was your turn to dominate.

➝ word count: 8,8k

➝ warnings: smut 

➝ author’s note: i had many doubts about following or not with this scenario. however, the idea was too good not to be explored. i hope you like it as much as i do, and i don't like what i write.

Germany, 2019.

This was your first thought when you saw the retro-style numbers painted on the W13's side pods as you walked down the pit lane on the Friday before the Belgian Grand Prix.

It was during the German Grand Prix at the Hockenheimring, three years ago, that Mercedes had done anything during a Grand Prix weekend to commemorate its history. The entire circuit was decorated with plaques celebrating the brand's 125-year history in motorsport, both of its cars had special liveries that were a nod to the first cars that Mercedes ran in motorsport events, and the team wore 1950’s-style clothing as a special team kit. 

It was supposed to be a weekend of celebration for the Brackley-based team, but it turned into an absolute disaster. The weather was horrible. First, Lewis Hamilton lost control of the car while following the safety car and crashed into the wall, breaking the front wing. Then, Valtteri Bottas crashed in a similar fashion. The British driver managed to return to the track, even after an almost-unprecedented 50-second pit stop, but the Finnish driver wasn’t so lucky.

The end result of what should have been an amazing weekend for Mercedes only left them with two points, two damaged cars, and a dramatic episode for the the second season of the Netflix docuseries Drive To Survive.

Since then, the team opted not to do things like that anymore. No special liveries, no one-off team kits, nothing like that. The exception was the year 2020, when they dropped their usual silver livery in favor of an all-black one, to support Lewis and the Black Lives Matter movement. Commemorative liveries were a thing of the past.

For Spa, though, it seemed that they had made an exception to celebrate the 55th anniversary of the partnership between Mercedes and AMG. Toto was against the idea, saying that it was bad luck. You could hear his voice in your head when you spotted the Mercedes motorhome in the paddock, with its special display W13, and the Red Pig, which Toto had driven around the circuit two days before. 

You wished you could say that he was wrong.

The Belgian Grand Prix at Spa-Francorchamps hadn’t been quite the disaster that the Hockenheimring had been, but it definitely brought back some unpleasant memories for those who had been there. In the first lap, Lewis had a clash with Fernando Alonso, taking him out of the race with a gearbox issue. It was up to George to minimize the losses for Mercedes, and he achieved a fourth-place finish.

But, the damage was done.

Judging by some of the highlights and shots you had seen on the television screens around the paddock, you imagined that Toto would not be in the best of moods for your post-race interview with him. 

— Do you think he’ll be difficult to talk to today? — Daniel asked you, as you both walked to the Mercedes motorhome. It was an impressive, imposing facility made of black metal with silver and teal accents. They’d decorated the outside with massive decals of the W13 with the retro-style show livery, and of the Red Pig.

— I hope not — you said, walking up the stairs to the second floor. Other journalists were waiting to chat with the Mercedes team principal, who was currently doing an interview with Ziggo Sport. 

In the corner of the room, you spotted Jules, your producer talking to Bradley, the communications director for the team, probably about the race. When Jules noticed your presence, he beckoned you over. You nudged your cameraman and told him that you'd be across the room for a few minutes, and walked over to where they were standing.

— I'm glad you're here, Y/N — Jules said, smiling — I was working out the final details with Bradley for the interview with Toto. We go live in a few minutes.

You looked at the communications director. He looked a little agitated.

— Any forbidden topics today? — you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

— If it were up to him, everything would be forbidden — Bradley muttered, nodding towards Toto. He seemed to be wrapping up his interview with the reporter from Ziggo Sport.

His answer bothered you a bit. The race hadn’t been one of Mercedes’ best all season, of course, but it wasn't the worst, either. The way you saw it, there was still hope for the team to score some victories and secure second place in the Constructors' Championship.

— Is he in a bad mood? — you asked.

Bradley nodded, while Toto gave the Dutch reporter a polite smile before turning and walking slowly over to you. You could tell his entire posture and expression that something was wrong.

— Anybody else? — Toto asked Bradley. 

— One live interview for Sky Sports, and then you're clean.

Toto looked at you as you waved the microphone, with its red and blue foam cover, in your hand, a wide smile on your face. However, he didn't smile back.

— Come on, Y/N — the team principal said as he turned his back and headed back to where he was earlier when he was giving his interview with the Dutch reporter.

“There really must be something wrong”, you thought to yourself as you followed him, positioning yourself just in front of the silver Mercedes star that adorned the wall of the motorhome. 

You took one of your AirPods out of your pants pocket, putting it in your left ear so it wouldn’t be visible to the camera. You took out your cell phone and took a last look at the questions you’d written down, but looked up when you felt someone tap on your shoulder. 

— Not too many questions today, I hope? — Toto asked you, his expression grim. Jules had already given him his microphone. Since the COVID-19 pandemic, each of the subjects you interviewed had their own, instead of just speaking into yours.

— No, not too many. It will be quick. Two, maybe three questions.

— Okay — he said, poking at the blue and red foam — Can you brief me?

— It will be about today, the team’s next steps, chances for victories in upcoming races — you said, tucking your cell phone into your pocket as you heard Natalie Pinkham’s introduction to your live interview through your earphone — Let's get started.

After Jules signaled you were live, you flashed a polite smile and started talking.

— We are here live in the Mercedes motorhome at Spa-Francorchamps to speak with Mercedes team principal Toto Wolff. How are you today, Toto?

You looked at him and saw a completely different man from the one who was beside you a few seconds ago. Toto had a smile on his face, and his posture was relaxed. It was radically different from the rigid, stone-faced Toto that was there a few seconds ago. 

— I’m doing well. How are you today, Y/N? — he said.

— I’m fine as well, Toto, thank you. If we can start by talking about this weekend, which was commemorating the 55th anniversary of the partnership between Mercedes and AMG. There seemed to be a few problems on the track, however. Could you talk more about this?

— I don't think we can be satisfied with this weekend. If you see Verstappen, he jumped all over us. We really need to figure out how to improve our car because the difference is just too big. We're giving the drivers a very difficult car to drive and he hasn't had the ideal pace on any lap, so we need to work to get out of that situation.

— What are the team's plans now?

— For the next four days, we're going to be putting our heads down together and focusing our attention on the next race and also the next season — the team principal said — It's important that we keep our feet on the ground, stay focused and not allow ourselves to alternate too much between joy and depression.

— Do you still believe that the team can get a victory this season?

— Of course this weekend was a low point, but in Hungary three weeks ago we were thinking that we would absolutely win a race, so we will never give up — Toto finished with a smile that, on the surface, seemed cheerful and pleasant. You knew there was a lot of pain behind it, though.

— Thank you so much, Toto — you said, looking at the camera again — Thank you Natalie, back to you.

You heard the presenter thank you for your interview. A few seconds later, Daniel signaled that the broadcast was over. You took the earphone out of your ear and put it away, turning to talk to Toto, but you realized that he wasn’t by your side anymore. You looked around the room until you saw the team principal exchanging a few words with Bradley. He gave Bradley a nod and disappeared inside the motorhome, not even looking back at you.

“Something's definitely wrong”, you thought, clenching your jaw a bit.

— Y/N? — Daniel's voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

— Yes, Danny? — you said, looking at your cameraman.

— Shall we pick up our things before heading to the hotel? — he asked, holding the camera in his hand.

— Yeah, let's go — you said, smiling at him.

After letting Jules know that you and Daniel were heading to the media center and getting a thumbs-up in response, you both walked down the motorhome stairs and back into the paddock. It was still intensely busy as the team structures were being dismantled and packed up before being taken by teams to Zandvoort, in the Netherlands.

As you walked alongside your cameraman, who was talking about something relating to a technical problem he had to resolve mid-race, you weren’t really paying attention. Your mind was bubbling with questions, all of them related to Toto’s mood. It was obvious that it had been a bad day for the team, but that was the norm this season, with the temperamental car they’d developed for the season. It had to be something else. Something really important.

— If it hadn't been for Jules, we would have missed the interview with Lewis — Daniel said as you entered the media center in the main paddock building. You said hello to a Brazilian journalist that was seated with her producer and cameraman before you headed into the room reserved for Sky Sports. You just needed to pack up your gear before you could head back over to the hotel.

As you packed up your laptop, notepad, and the raincoat you now brought with you everywhere in your backpack, an idea came to mind.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and opened WhatsApp, tapping on the contact labeled “Toto Wolff”. You thought for a few seconds as you decided what to tell him. 

“I’m heading back to the hotel. Dinner later?”.

You read over your message a few times before hitting “send”.

You stared at the screen for a few seconds and saw the two checkmarks next to your message change from gray to blue, meaning that he’d read the message. You waited with bated breath for an answer, but then you saw his status change from “Online” to “Offline”.

“Yeah, there’s definitely something wrong”, you thought. 

— All set, Y/N? — Daniel asked from behind you. When you turned around, you noticed that he’d already finished packing all of his equipment and his backpack as well.

— Yeah, let's go — you replied, picking up your backpack and bag.

As you got back to your suite at the Hôtel de la Source, you only got more concerned. You dropped your things onto your neatly made bed and checked your phone again. All that was on the screen was your wallpaper, a photo of your Sky Sports microphone in front of the Mercedes garage, taken in early 2020, on your first day as an on-track reporter. Nothing else. No notification from Toto. 

With a frustrated sigh, you decided to call him. You tapped his name on your contact list and put the phone to your ear, feeling slightly on-edge while you listened to it ring. Then, you heard the pre-recorded voice message indicating that your call had gone to his voicemail. 

You took your phone off of your ear and looked at the screen, feeling a little uneasy. There were a few things that would prevent him from being able to answer your call.

He could be meeting with executives.

He could be in a late debrief with the engineers and drivers.

He could just be too busy.

But you had a feeling it wasn’t any of those things, and horrible possibilities came to mind, each one more catastrophic than the other.  “What if he slipped and hit his head in the bathroom? What if he passed out and can’t call for help? What if he ordered room service and choked on his food?”, you thought, walking into the bathroom of your suite.

— Calm down, Y/N — you muttered to yourself, staring at your own reflection. Taking one last look at your phone, you let out a frustrated sigh, dropping it onto the small white marble countertop.

You've decided to focus on getting undressed and taking a shower to relax. However, the presence of your phone on the bathroom counter nagged at you, and you checked it near-constantly, as if something would have changed in the few seconds it took to close your eyes and stick your head under the spray.

You rinsed off, turned off the tap, and wrapped yourself in a white towel to dry off before picking up your phone again and glaring at it in frustration. 

— Nothing — you said, tossing it onto your bed.

You opened your suitcase rather indelicately, taking out a shirt and a pair of jeans. You didn’t think about which clothes in particular you were putting on — your mind was elsewhere right now. As soon as you were dressed, you grabbed your phone again, getting excited when you saw a notification on your lock screen. However, it was just a friend of yours, confirming that she would be in Zandvoort for next weekend’s race.

You repeated the familiar ritual for this afternoon. Contact list. Toto Wolff. Call. Again, you heard the prompt to leave a voicemail. You decided to try one more time — why not?

However, you were surprised when, on the second ring, you heard a series of beeps indicating that the call was rejected from the other end.

You stared at the screen, bewildered, unsure whether or not you should feel relieved that he apparently wasn’t bleeding out from a head injury on the floor of his in-suite shower, or annoyed that he was apparently just refusing to speak to you.

— Fucking hell, Torger — you grumbled, walking to the doorway of your room and shoving on the pair of sneakers you’d been wearing all day, discarded by the room’s door. You took your key card out of the lock and stalked down the hotel’s hallway in the direction of the room where Toto was staying. 

Lucky for you, the hotel hallways were empty. Many of the other guests that had come for the race were either already checked out, or were too tired from the weekend to do anything but hole up in their rooms. You found his room number — 146, or 1’46”, as it appeared on the plaque affixed to the door. Since this hotel was near the track, they had the room numbers stylized to look like racing lap times. 

You knocked on the white wood of the door — hard — three times, pursing your lips together. Silence. You started to feel a bit stupid — you weren’t even sure if Toto was in his room. You hadn’t seen him leaving the paddock, so he very well could still be at the circuit, talking to engineers, mechanics, Lewis, George… You weren’t sure whether to stay in the doorway much longer, until you heard the latch click and saw the knob turn. You were preparing yourself to tell him off for hanging up on you, but the words got lost on their way to your mouth. 

Just from the expression on his face, you could tell that Toto was definitely not well.

— Y/N? — he asked quietly, his eyes scanning the hallway, worried that you might be seen.

— Can I come inside? — you said quietly, your gaze fixed on his face, trying to understand why he looked the way he did.

He opened the door wider, telling you to come in with a small shake of his head. You walked past him without a word, taking hesitant steps down the small hallway into the bedroom. The color scheme and decor of the suite was similar to yours, but his suite had two large windows in the front, offering a spectacular view of Turn 1 of the circuit, also called La Source. 

Behind you, Toto closed the door to the suite. Then he walked slowly towards the bed, and let himself sink into a sitting position on the edge of the mattress. He was moving like there was a thousand-pound weight on his shoulders. You noticed he was still wearing his white Mercedes dress shirt and black dress pants, but that he was barefoot. His head sank into his hands, his elbows resting on his thighs. You’d never seen him look so… Defeated. 

— Toto — you said softly, hesitantly.

He looked up at you without saying a word.

— What happened? — you asked, gingerly settling next to him on the bed.

— Nothing — the team principal said, his voice barely audible.

— Toto, I could see from just the way you were standing before my interview that there was something wrong with you — you said, bringing one of your hands to his shoulder and softly caressing him — Tell me what’s wrong, please.

— There's nothing wrong, Y/N — he replied, his eyes fixed on the floor.

You took a deep breath. Toto was too proud to admit he had been wrong, especially when it came to something the team was in charge of. However, at that point in the championship, it was futile to think about the possibility of catching up with Red Bull in the constructor’s championship, or imagining that Mercedes could supplant Verstappen’s dominant lead. But there were still things for the team to fight for. 

— Look, I know today’s race was bad…

— Awful — he said, interrupting you and looking at you for the first time since you'd come into the room.

— Horrible.

— Terrible.

You chuckled.

— You’re right, Toto. It wasn’t all bad, was it?

The team principal raised an eyebrow.

— What happened on the track was caused by a mistake from Lewis, and he’s already taken responsibility and apologized to everyone. That’s good!

— Good?

— I mean, he could blame Alonso and try to manipulate the narrative in his favor, which would be a bit problematic from a people management angle.

He looked at the floor again, thoughtful.

— Also, the team scored today, and scored well — you slid your hand along his arm, your index finger tracing along one of the veins in his forearm. — And with George's points today, Mercedes is now 41 points from Ferrari. At least the W13 is reliable and actually finishes races, even though it’s slow and temperamental. The Ferraris are fast, but they blow up half of the time…

— I'm tired — Toto said, interrupting you again.

You sighed.

— Look, Toto, I understand that the day has been tiring, terrible, that you just want to lie down and pretend that nothing happened, but the truth is, it happened, and you have to face it — you said, sliding your fingers between his, taking his hand in yours — I know it’s hard to talk about when everything is so recent, but bottling up your feelings isn’t…

— Y/N, I'm just tired — he repeated.

— Yes, I understand, Toto…

— No, you don't understand, Y/N — he rose from where he was sitting beside you, looking down at you.

— Explain it to me, then — you replied, squeezing his hand.

— I'm tired of always having the weight of the world on my back, Y/N. I’m tired of always having to be the hopeful one, the optimistic one, the brave one… The strong one.

You blinked.

— Every time, every race, it doesn't matter if things go right or wrong, I'm the person that everyone looks to talk to. I'm the one who needs to encourage after successes and defend after mistakes. I'm the one who gets the praise and the attacks, I’m the one that has to answer the fucking journalists' questions, no matter how dumb they sound.

It was your turn to look down. “Don't take it personally, Y/N”, you thought to yourself.

— And then, when I get home, I still need to be the strong one. I need to be the father to my children, the son to my mother, the brother to my sister. I need to be strong, unbreakable, and unstoppable. To them. For them. Always. And… I'm tired.

You had no idea what to say. Even though the two of you had been together for a year and had talked for countless hours, it was the first time he had opened up to you like that, in such a raw and vulnerable way.

— Since I was a teenager, I've been piling things on my back, taking them with me. First, it was my mother and Lili. Then it was Stephanie and the kids. Then, my employees and colleagues and all of Mercedes. And now I have you too — he spoke softly, looking at you.

— Toto…

— I want to be the man everyone expects me to be, everyone wants me to be. That my mother wants, that my kids want, that the team wants, that you want. But I'm tired. No, I’m… Exhausted.

You stayed silent as you leaned your head on his shoulder, just letting him talk.

— When Lewis collided with Fernando, I got… Flashbacks to that race in Germany in 2019, and it felt like being punched in the stomach. I don't think I'll ever forget that weekend, as much as I’d like to.

— Because of what happened? — you asked softly.

— Not because of that. That's the first weekend I first felt the weight of my real responsibility, and I didn’t think I could handle it. 

— What do you mean? — you whispered.

— We’d been planning all of these things since the beginning of that year, you know, for the anniversary celebration. The special team kit and livery, all of the signs around the circuit, all of that was planned in January, and out of everyone, Niki was the most excited about it.

The mention of Niki Lauda made something tighten in your chest. You knew that the three-time Formula 1 champion had been a key player in turning Mercedes into the motorsport powerhouse that dominated the turbo-hybrid era of Formula 1. But for Toto, Niki Lauda was more than just a coworker. He was a friend.

— After Niki died, I felt like the glow of Formula 1 faded overnight. It just wasn’t fun without him. Everything seemed more boring, more monotonous, more painful. I couldn't go half an hour without wanting to cry, because everything inside the garage reminded me of him. And he wasn’t there anymore.

You squeezed Toto's hand, trying to tell him, without words, that you were there for him. With him. Beside him.

— Everything was going great that weekend, just like we’d planned. We had even agreed to let Netflix join us that weekend and film an episode about us. And then, during the race, everything went to shit. Lewis crashing during the safety car, 50 second pit stop, Valtteri crashing, Lewis coming in ninth. I felt like everything was crumbling down around my head.

— It's normal to have a bad day. It's just part of the game.

— It wasn't like that for me. It went beyond just having one bad day, one bad race. I had to take full responsibility for it. Before, Niki and I shared the responsibility, and then all of it was on me. I was responsible. I was the guy who had to step up and own up to our mistakes. I took on a lot that weekend, Y/N. Enough for a lifetime.

You were silent as you digested his words. You’d never stopped to think about the weight of Toto's responsibilities — not just professional, but personal.

— Always being in control of everything is both empowering and isolating. You feel amazing, powerful, invincible, but you also feel very alone, especially when you don't have someone to share the weight of it with.

Something about what he said started turning some gears in your head.

— Sometimes I wish I wasn't in control all the time, you know? I don’t want to necessarily give it all up, but… A break from it would be nice, even a short one — he muttered, his gaze lost to the floor.

“What if…?”, you thought.

— I can help you — you said, looking at him, your voice thin.

Toto turned his head suddenly, his eyes scanning your expression, trying to understand what you meant.

— Y/N…

You stood up without saying a word, taking off your sneakers and unbuttoning your jeans. You slid your pants down around your legs and kicked them off into a corner of the room. Then, you yanked your shirt over your head, tossing it carelessly in the direction your jeans had landed. 

Toto watched you, astounded, his mouth hanging open. His eyes roamed over your body, taking in every detail of you as you undressed. Then, his eyes met yours, and your mouth curled into a mischievous smile.

You moved to stand in front of Toto and placed your hands on his shoulders. It didn’t take long for him to respond. He moved his hands to the base of your spine, letting his fingers wander under the elastic of your panties.

— I can help you, Toto — you repeated, your voice quiet.

— How?

— Let me take control. Just for a little bit. Here.

He blinked, trying to process what you said.

— What?

— I can't take control of your companies, especially not Mercedes. I can’t take control of your relationship with your children or your mother. But I can take control here, in this room, in this bed. I can help you, at least for a little bit, here, and now.

— Y/N — he muttered, as you slid your hands up to his cheeks, cupping them.

— Let me help, honey — you whispered, the last word falling sweetly from your lips. It was the first time you’d called him that, at least that intimately. You liked the way it sounded. It felt right.

Toto continued to stare at you, like he was trying to think about your offer, trying to decide what it meant. 

“He needs convincing”, you thought, bringing your face closer to his, brushing your lips lightly against his.

— Please — you purred softly, before capturing his lips in a gentle, slow kiss. It was a tender caress, loaded with the promise of making him feel like he deserved to feel: free, unburdened… Good.

You pulled your face away from his, and let your eyes meet. In his chocolate-colored irises, you saw the moment that the CEO and team principal of the Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula 1 team relinquished control for the first time, and handed it over to you, and only you.

— What do you want me to do?

You took a step back and smiled at him.

— I want you to get up and take off your clothes.

Toto drew himself up to standing at his full height in front of you, making you lean your head back to meet his eyes. Then, slowly, he brought his hands up to his team shirt, undoing the buttons one by one. He slid it over his shoulders and his muscular, defined torso was revealed. Then, he unfastened his belt and unzipped his dress pants, letting them fall away to reveal his white boxer briefs. He kicked his pants away, letting them land wherever. He reached for his underwear to take those off too, but you stopped him. 

— No.

He looked at you, his eyes shining with curiosity.

— Lay down — you commanded, a smile coming to your face.

Toto obeyed you almost immediately, climbing into the king-size bed of his suite. As he settled into the middle of the mattress, you looked at the team principal's discarded pile of clothes as an idea came to mind. You picked up his pants from where they’d landed, removing the belt from the loops and giving it a few cursory tugs.

“Must be Italian”, you thought, approaching the bed, a smug expression on your face. You watched him closely, and he looked surprised. He probably didn’t realize that you had a dominant side, considering that you normally let him do whatever he wanted to you whenever you were together inside other hotel rooms just like this one.

Climbing onto the mattress, you sat down next to him with his belt wrapped around your right hand. You sat back on your heels, thinking about how you could use it. It would be tricky, restraining a man who was over six feet tall and as strong as Toto was. The hotel bed’s headboard was completely solid and offered no usable anchor points you could attach the belt to. You’d have to work with the basics. 

— What now? — he whispered. He looked anxious, like he was trying to calculate your next move.

— Put your arms above your head — you ordered, your tone as imperative as you could make it.

Toto obeyed, stretching his arms over his head until they touched the upholstered headboard. You unrolled the belt from your hand and began to bind his wrists together, making sure not to make it so tight as to cut off the circulation in his wrists, and not so loose that he’d be able to wiggle out of the restraints easily. The sight of the black leather against his forearms and wrists made something tingle low in your belly. 

You never imagined tying someone up could be so sexy.

Toto's eyes watched you intently, studying your expression as you buckled the belt tightly against his wrists. The only sound inside the room was the combined sounds of your breathing.

— Comfortable?

— Yes — he said, testing his hands against the restraints binding his wrists.

— Good — you smiled, settling back on your heels — Before I start, we need to go over some rules.

Toto blinked.

— First, I'm in charge, and you obey me without question. Second, if you feel uncomfortable or things get to be too much for you, we can stop at any time. Third, you will stay put unless I tell you to move. And fourth, I want you to know that you're safe here. I won't hurt you under any circumstances. My only goal is to make you feel good. Understood?

He nodded his head.

— Words — you said, your voice stern — I want to hear you, Toto. 

It was a satisfying reversal of the games he usually played with you. It felt good — no wonder he said it all the time.

— Understood — he whispered.

You smiled.

— Good boy — you said.

Toto’s expression changed and he was silent for a few seconds, like he had to process what you’d said to him, like he’d never heard anything like that before. A visible blush came to his cheeks and he averted his gaze from yours, like he was a shy little boy and not a man who had sensuality and power oozing out of his pores. 

“It’s amazing what a simple belt can do”, you thought, rising off of your heels and onto your knees.

You straddled yourself over his abdomen, denying him the feeling of having you where he wanted you for now. You looked down at his torso, between your legs, licking your lips before you started your exploration.

— You're very handsome. Did you know that? — you asked, your fingers roaming over smooth skin and firm muscles — You're the most handsome man I've ever seen in my life.

Toto watched you silently, his cheeks still bright red. He didn’t seem like he was capable of speaking, suddenly.

— Sometimes, I think you don't even realize how handsome you are — you said — I remember a video you recorded for the Mercedes YouTube channel once, where you said that you didn’t have any luck with girls at school. My colleagues and I didn’t believe that for a second. Do you know why?

— Why? – Toto whispered.

You leaned over him and brought your lips to his ear.

— Because you're beautiful — you whispered, lifting your face again to look into his brown eyes. His pupils were dilated now — There isn't a woman in this paddock who hasn't wanted to be with you at least once when she saw you walk by.

There was a few seconds of silence before Toto managed to speak.

— Did you want me the first time you saw me? — he asked.

— Yes. I wanted you so badly — you said, brushing your nose against his — Even when I worked in the London newsroom, I imagined what you would be like. 

— What I would be like — Toto repeated, seemingly mesmerized by every move you made.

— What it would be like to touch you, to taste you — you whispered, your lips brushing his — And somehow, you’ve managed to surpass all of my fantasies. Being with you is far better than I could have ever imagined. You’re an amazing man.

— Amazing — he stammered.

— Yes. Amazing. Simply… Amazing — you said, before taking his lips in a calm, sensual kiss. Your hands found his wrists and you leaned on them to pitch yourself forward a bit. Your tongue explored his mouth without haste or hurry, enjoying every second of something so simple, yet, so intimate. 

You nibbled gently at one of his lips before you moved on from his mouth, letting yours roam over his skin, moving slowly to his strong jawline that always became more set and solid whenever he was concentrating on the telemetry screens at the engineering station. You moved up toward his ear, feeling his pulse quickening under your lips. You followed the prominent vein down as you kissed and licked at the skin of his neck. You savored it — it was one of your favorite parts of him.

— I love your neck — you murmured, grazing his Adam's apple with your teeth.

— My neck? — Toto asked, the vibration in his throat tickling your lips.

— Yes — you replied, continuing your journey down to his collarbones — I love your shoulders too.

— Why?

— Because they're just so big — you nibbled at the skin just above the bone — And I can make such pretty marks on them, at least where your shirt will cover them. Can I?

You had an agreement for you to never leave visible marks in Toto’s skin. So hickeys, especially on the neck, were always out of the question. However, you and Toto had never talked about shoulder hickeys.

Above you, you heard an affirmative murmur.

— Words, honey — you said, lifting your head and looking straight into his eyes — Remember?

— Yes.

Smiling, you put your lips to a spot between his neck and collarbone and kissed the skin before sucking it vigorously, making sure a vibrant red mark appeared that would turn into a bruise later. That way, every time he took off his team shirt and looked at himself in the mirror, he could be reminded that there was a woman who wanted him more than anything.

You soothed the skin with your tongue and repositioned yourself a bit lower, almost directly over the bulge in his underwear. However, it wasn’t so that he’d be able to feel you, but rather, so you’d have access to his chest. Your mouth roamed down toward his sternum, licking, kissing and nibbling the entire way down. You got an idea, then, bringing your lips to one of his nipples and licking the sensitive skin there.

He moaned a little, seeming to take you both by surprise.

You looked up at him, a mischievous smile on your face.

— So, you liked that? — you asked, doing it again before he could answer with words.

Instead, his response was to moan again, which made you laugh. 

So far, this was more than just a simple exercise in trying to control a man who was always in control. You were both discovering things about each other, and every new discovery made you like him even more.

You slid down lower and sat on his thighs, sliding your fingers down his abdomen toward the waistband of his boxer briefs. You gently scratched over the skin near the elastic, looking up at his face, looking into his eyes.

— Hard already, honey? — you purred, your finger tracing over the curve of his cock as it strained against the fabric, making him squirm — I haven’t even done anything yet.

— You have — he said, his voice sounding thin.

— And… What have I done? — you asked, your finger tugging at the elastic of his underwear.

Toto didn't answer you. He was breathing heavily, trying to cling to the last remaining shreds of his self-control. Well, that wouldn’t do.

— I asked you a question, Toto — you said, your voice darkening as you wrapped your hand around his cock through the fabric, moving it just enough to work him up a bit more.

You looked at him intently, realizing that he was working hard to not give up the last bit of control he had. It seemed that he definitely needed a bit more convincing. You released his dick and brought your hands around to your back, finding the clasp of your bra and deftly undoing it. You slid the garment down your arms, exposing your breasts to him as you leaned forward, resting your hands on his hip bones. 

— Toto, do you remember the first rule?

He nodded, his eyes darting between your chest and your eyes. You raised your eyebrows and that was all it took for him to understand what you wanted. 

— Yes — he said.

— And, what was it?

Toto hesitated for a few seconds.

— You're in charge — he whispered. His voice sounded strained.

— And do you know what that means?

— Yes.

— Tell me, then — you commanded.

— That I must obey you.

— Very good. I asked you a question before, and you didn’t answer me. Why?

— I — he stopped mid-sentence, pausing for a few seconds. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. — Was concentrating.

— On what? — you asked, your fingers gripping the waistband of his underwear and yanking them down, revealing his fully erect cock. As you wrapped your hand around the shaft, you heard his breath hitch, keeping his jaw clenched as he struggled to control himself.

This wasn’t working. You needed to assert yourself.

— Darling, this will only work if you cede control to me — you started moving your hand up and down his length, slowly — Entirely.

— I… I… I — Toto stuttered, his eyes rolling back in pleasure at the sensation his hand was giving him.

— Let go. Let me take control — you whispered, before taking your thumb to his slit —  I want to take care of you, honey. Let me. 

Toto's eyelids fluttered slightly, your eyes locked on his as you brought your tongue to the tip and licked away the drop of precum that had already gathered. As soon as your tongue touched his cock, he let out a loud groan, trying to thrust his hips towards your mouth. It was an impulse, an unconscious reaction, but it made you lift your head for a moment, yanking his underwear down further. Then, without a trace of delicacy or gentleness, you slapped him on the side of his thigh, almost near his butt. The sudden contact made him gasp.

— Did I tell you to move? — you asked, your fingers massaging the spot where your palm had hit the skin.

Toto shook his head.

You slapped him again in the same spot.

— Words.

— No — he replied. It almost sounded like a whine.

— Then… Why did you move? — you asked, taking him in hand again and stroking him vigorously.

It was enough for Toto to throw his head back, the tentative murmurs replaced by loud moans, mixed with words you couldn’t understand but assumed were in German. After a few minutes, you noticed his body tensing and his balls tightening, so you slowed down, a devilish grin coming to your face.

You wanted to push him to the very edge, like he had done to you so many times.

— Y/N — he whimpered, trying to move his hips, seeking more of the friction that your hand had given him. You pressed your thighs against his legs, limiting his movement. You continued to stroke him, but you needed him to know that you were completely dissatisfied with his behavior.

— Do you know what happens to bad boys when they displease me, Toto?

— No — he whined.

— They don't get to come — you said, looking down at him. You saw the expression on his face change to a mixture of realization and agony. It seemed that, in the midst of the haze of his pleasure, he had realized what you were truly capable of.

— I'll behave myself — Toto whined  — I promise I'll behave.

You raised your eyebrows. You weren’t convinced.

— And why should I believe you? — you asked him.

He blinked, struggling to process your question with his addled mind.

— Because I want you. I need you. And I'll do anything for you.

You smiled.

— Anything?

— Yes — he replied, nodding his head — Anything.

You let go of his cock and lifted yourself off of him, kneeling on the bed instead. You moved to strip off your panties, sliding them down your legs, leaving you completely naked. You examined the fabric for a second, noticing they were nearly soaked through with how wet you were. You smiled, and an idea came to mind.

”Perfect”, you thought, climbing back on top of Toto and settling yourself on his hips again.

Acutely aware of his eyes on you, you crumpled your panties into a small ball of fabric, making sure to leave the wet part facing out.

— I'm going to suck you off — you said, leaning over his body — But I don't want to hear any sounds, and I want you to stay still. Okay?

— Yes — he replied, his voice strangled with anticipation.

— Now, open your mouth.

He did as he was told and opened his mouth. You stuffed your panties inside, and turned your attention back to his dick. You gave him a few cursory strokes and didn't hesitate to bring your mouth to it, licking it vigorously from base to tip, the salty taste of precum on your tongue. 

In response to that, you heard a muffled groan. You looked at his face and noticed that he had his eyes squeezed shut. His hands were still bound together by the belt, but he was gripping the top edge of the mattress, as if he needed to hang on to something to keep himself grounded so he wouldn’t be immediately carried away by the pleasure that your ministrations were bringing him. It was just what you wanted.

— Good boy — you whispered, before putting the entirety of his cock in your mouth, the tip brushing the back of your throat. You breathed through your nose, bobbing your head down the length of it, hollowing out your cheeks. You could feel the muscles in his thighs tense under your fingers. He was clearly expending an enormous effort to not disobey you by moving.

You picked up the pace and continued to suck, spurred on by the occasional moan of pleasure, muffled by your panties. Eventually, you felt his legs start to shake. Once again, he tipped toward his release. “Not yet”, you thought, pulling your mouth off of him.

You rose and repositioned yourself just above his public bone, reaching into his mouth and slowly pulling the now-soaked panties out. You tossed them behind you and they landed on the floor, and took a long look at him. There were tears coming to the corners of his eyes, no doubt from how hard he was trying to obey you. 

— You've done very well, obeying my rules — you whispered, bringing your thumb up to the corners of his eyes and wiping the tears away — Now, I will reward you for being such a good boy for me. Tell me what you want from me, and I’ll give it to you, moj wilk.

Toto's eyes widened as the last two words left your mouth. It looked like he didn’t believe what he’d heard. You smiled, satisfied, declaring the bit of research you’d done worth the effort to surprise him like that.

— Tell me what you want, Toto. I'll give you whatever you want.

He was still stunned, unable to form words, his eyes lost on your face. You sought a reaction from him, so you lifted yourself up and repositioned your hips so that you were on top of his cock, sitting on the shaft as it rested against his pubic bone. You were practically dripping wet, so it didn’t take much effort for you to slide your folds with ease along the underside of his length, enjoying the sensation of pleasure coursing through you for the first time that night. You forced yourself to stop, looking Toto directly in the eyes again.

— I'm waiting, honey.

Toto blinked, as if he'd just come out of a trance.

— You — he whispered — I want you.

— But… I’m here. — you replied, grinding against him a little, teasing him — You can’t feel me?

— I want to be inside you, maleńka — Toto said, gritting his teeth — Please, let me be inside you.

“Finally”, you thought to yourself, just smiling at him before lifting your hips and repositioning yourself over his body, your entrance hovering just above his dick.

— Your wish is my command — you whispered, sinking into his cock.

The room filled with the sounds of your mutual pleasure, both of you making breathy moans and sighs. You loved having him inside of you. You loved it every time the two of you had sex — it might have sounded like a cliche, but when he was inside of you, you felt complete, like you were a slotting in the final piece to a puzzle.

You grasped almost blindly for support against his abdomen, as the sensation of your riding him made eyelids flutter with pleasure. You started to move your hips in earnest, moaning loudly every time the tip of his cock brushed against a particular spot inside of you.

— My God, Toto — you said, as you moved up and down, bouncing on his dick — You're so deep…

— Yes — he groaned beneath you, his hips rising to meet your thrusts, trying to help you sink as deep as you possibly could onto him. 

You kept moving, speeding toward your release. You changed your movements to something more horizontal, letting your clit slide against Toto’s pubic bone, heightening your pleasure further. 

— You're so good, so good for me — you whined, as the knot began to form in your belly, your muscles tensing with the near-imminent ecstasy.

However, while you were still chasing release, after so much merciless teasing and two aborted orgasms, Toto was nearly there. He gasped your name over and over, before his cries became nonsensical moans and he was swept up the wave of his climax. He threw his head back and shouted your name at the top of his lungs as he let go inside of you, his muscles twitching uncontrollably. 

— Yes, this, this — you moaned.

The heat of his release gave you extra impetus to seek your own orgasm. You quickened your movements and found the ideal angle to stimulate yourself. It didn’t take much longer before you were screaming his name, pleasure coursing through your body with an intensity you’d never felt before. It was completely overwhelming. Every muscle in your body tightened and seized all at once. It was glorious.

After the sensation had dissipated, you let yourself collapse onto Toto’s chest, your breathing labored, your senses clouded, and your body completely drained from the effort. It was all worth it — after all, your goal was to make Toto feel good, and judging by how blissed-out he looked, you’d succeeded.

You had no idea how much time you stayed there, your head on his chest, moving up and down with his breaths. Once your breathing had returned to normal, you looked up at him, noticing that his hands were still bound by the belt around his wrists. 

“He's been trapped too long already”, you thought, pulling yourself off of him. You felt empty as his cock slipped out of you, and the sensation made you press your thighs together and you moved to release him from his restraints.

You opened the buckle and unwrapped the leather from his hands, tossing the belt behind you. You placed gentle kisses on each of his wrists, noticing that his skin was lightly marked where he’d been restrained.

— You were so good to me, honey — you murmured, running your thumb along the lines, trying to soothe them.

Toto pulled his arms away from you and moved to sit up suddenly. He turned to you and brought his hands to your face, pulling you into a deep, tender kiss. After a few seconds, he pulled his lips away from yours and brushed your noses together as he smiled.

— Thank you, moja maleńka — Toto whispered.

You couldn’t help but smile, too, feeling the satisfaction of achieving what you’d set out to do. He pulled you back in for a few more kisses, your bodies becoming tangled up in each other. You brought your hand to his face and softly caressed his cheek with your thumb.

— Do you want to take a shower, baby?

— Yes — he replied, kissing you on the cheek.

You took Toto’s hand and helped him off the bed, leading him into the suite’s bathroom. You turned on the shower and stepped in with him. Steam rose from the hot water, fogging the glass walls of the shower stall and creating a cozy atmosphere. You gently pushed him under the spray of the showerhead, taking a look at the toiletries he had neatly lined up on the small shelf. You picked up the small bottle of shampoo, squeezing a little bit out into your palm. However, you looked back at him, making a realization.

— Did you have to be so tall? — you asked, tilting your head slightly.

— What’s wrong with my height?

— Well — you replied, holding out the dollop of shampoo in your hand looking a little annoyed.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, Toto bowed his head.

— Explain it to me, maleńka — he asked affectionately.

— Well, it's just that, I wanted to be nice and wash your hair, you know, to take care of you. But you’re literally the size of a lamppost and I can’t reach the top of your head. — you said, looking down at the shampoo that was still in the palm of your hand.

Toto chuckled. 

— Unfortunately I can't shrink, but we can do this. How about you wash the rest of me, and I’ll do my hair?

You nodded, rinsing the shampoo off of your hand. You picked up the bottle of body wash and poured a little bit into your palm. It had a floral scent. You rubbed it gently over Toto’s body, touching him like he was the most precious thing in the world to you.

"And he is", you smiled, as your hand spread the viscous liquid over his shoulders.

You had no idea how much time you spent inside the bathroom, washing and touching each other. Both of your hands were pruny and wrinkled by the time both of you collapsed in bed next to each other. You stared at the ceiling briefly before turning onto your side. You noticed Toto was looking at you with a smile on his face.

— What's wrong? — you whispered, bringing your face close enough that your nose was touching his.

— I was just thinking about how amazing you are, Y/N.

— Amazing?

— Yes. Amazing.

You hesitated for a few seconds. “Should I ask?”, you thought.

— Did you like what we did?

— You mean, you taking control?

— Yeah — you replied — I tried to be kind, just like you are to me. But… I guess that both of us have rebellious tendencies that require… Drastic measures. Physical measures.

Toto laughed.

— You mean the slapping?

— Yeah. I hope you weren't upset — you said, shyly.

— No, maleńka, quite the opposite — he smiled, wrapping one of his arms around your waist, pulling you closer — I've never felt so good. I’m so happy.

You smiled.

— That was my goal, honey. To make you feel good, like you deserve to feel.

Bringing a hand to your face, he caressed your cheek with his thumb.

— With you around, I'll always feel good, maleńka — Toto whispered, taking your lips in a gentle kiss. He was free for a bit, unburdened by the weight of his worries and obligations.

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