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#wolffe/reader
221bshrlocked · 1 year
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desire for obedience
Pairings: Commander Wolffe x Jedi Fem!Reader
Words: 5656
Warnings: Angsty Smut. Semi-Public but Consensual Sex. Some Dirty Talk. Rough Manhandling/Sex. Clothed Male Naked Female. Penetrative, Unprotected Sex (Wrap the Shlong before you King Kong my Dudes). Slight Breeding Kink. Creampie. Implied Squirting. Indirect Love Confessions. 79′s shenanigans. 
Summary: You risk your life to save Wolffe and Boost’s. Wolffe doesn’t appreciate you disobeying his orders. Things escalate at 79′s...
A/N: I was minding my own business writing a oneshot involving a threesome with Crosshair and Mayday when this suddenly happened so here you go. I am not okay after that Bad Batch episode so naturally I am writing smut to make myself feel better. Enjoy my lovely Clone lovers and let me know how I’m doing in the comments please and thank you. You can add yourself to the taglist here if you like.
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If it had been any other day, you would have brushed aside the flare of anger heating all around you, chalking it up for the particularly extraneous mission you and your battalion had just returned from. But the last rotation brought about many revelations, one of which involved the Clone Commander currently staring daggers into your very soul. You avoided him as much as you can, and from the looks of it, he noticed your tactics and was getting extremely tired of them. 
When you look up at him again through the multitude of white armor surrounding the two of you, you find his eyes narrowed dangerously at you, jaws clenched tightly as he realizes that you were very much aware of why he was fuming at you. A question breaks your attention away from him, and you turn to the trooper beside you, pretending to laugh at whatever anecdote he just said to avoid the tempest threatening to take you over. 
You know why he’s behaving this way, and as much as you hate to admit it, he had every right to feel this way. But you couldn’t tell him that, mostly because you didn’t want to hear how disappointed he was with your decision or how right he was that you weren’t ready for your position. 
You continue nodding at the trooper, completely oblivious to the slow approach of the man you’ve been avoiding for the better half of the day. 
“Good evening Commander,” the words snap you back to reality and you look up in time to see Wolffe’s unwavering gaze threatening to bring you to your knees. 
“This next round is on me boys,” you blurt out immediately, avoiding any and all contact with Wolffe’s rather dangerous eyes as you take a step back from the group. “Order anything you want and p-put it on my tab.” You manage to breathe out before you turn around and head towards the refreshers, praying to the maker that 79’s wasn’t seeing too much action in the back tonight. 
You barely manage to move past the dancing crowd, keeping your hand firmly placed on your lightsaber in an attempt to calm yourself. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought that Wolffe had every intention to shoot you with his blaster the second he walked up to your group. Slamming the door open, you head towards one of the sinks and turn on the cold water, splashing your face several times and dragging the water down your neck in an attempt to calm down. 
Not a second later, the door opens quietly, making you sigh heavily as you look for anything to wipe your face. You hope that the occupant behind you doesn’t try to ask you if everything is okay because you aren’t sure how you can manage to respond to that question. It’s eerily quiet as you pat your face down with the edge of your robes, and when you don’t hear any movement towards one of the stalls, you look up into the mirror and feel a wave of cold ice wash over you. 
Gulping down the anxiety threatening to make itself apparent in the form of a stream of tears, you turn around slowly and watch as Wolffe tilts his head to the side and continues to stare into your eyes. You say nothing, unsure of what or how you were supposed to get yourself out of this sticky situation. 
Then he locks the door and taps on it twice, and you know you’re in for it. 
“Wol- um, Commander. H-how may I be of service?” You hate the way your entire body shakes whenever you’re in his presence, even more so now as he slowly approaches you, the look of a predator clear and visible on his features. 
You had always wondered why he was named Wolffe, but as his jaw tenses, the veins on his neck straining from how harsh he’s biting down, pronouncing the nearly homicidal look brewing in his eyes, you finally understand how he came about his name. 
Maker, he looked positively frightening. 
It aroused you to no end. 
“I’m only going to ask this once, and you better have a damn good answer.” His voice is menacing, and you swear you hear a growl emit from deep within his chest as he speaks, as if he was embodying the spirit of the animal he was named after. 
“Yes Commander?” You pray that your nervousness calms him a little, maybe prove to him that the last thing you intended to do was get on his nerves. When he says nothing and continues to walk towards you, you can’t help but back up, and as soon as your back hits the cold tile wall, you feel your heart skip a beat at the prospect of being at his mercy. 
He had finally cornered you, like a prey, and the only thing left for you to do was to follow his lead and ensure that he understood who was in charge here. 
Wolffe’s eyes never once leave your own, and you will yourself to continue breathing so you don’t pass out from the intensity of his gaze. He says nothing for what you deem as too long, and only when he’s a foot away from you does he finally break the terrifying silence that has washed over the room. 
“What the fuck were you thinking?” 
You immediately know what his question is in reference to, and you know for a fact that playing dumb would do you no good, especially now that he had you at his mercy. You look back and forth in between his eyes, the scar adorning his right eye appearing much more threatening this up close. You part your lips to try and answer his question, but nothing comes to mind, nothing that would satiate the Force signature completely engulfing you in this instance. 
“I- I was just…”
“Disobeying orders?” He cuts you off, taking one more step towards you until you are completely overwhelmed by him. You want to scream at him, push him aside and remind him that you were the General and he was the Commander, that you outranked him and didn’t have to listen to anything he said. But the two of you would know that you’re lying, because up until now, you had seldom made him feel like he was inferior to you. When it came to the battlefield, Commander Wolffe was among the best of the best, with his experience, his tactical intelligence, and his sheer will to ensure the safety of those around him. 
Which is how you found yourself in this mess. 
You had disobeyed a direct order, went after him and Boost when he told you to leave the two of them and accompany the rest of the battalion. You had never seen someone so furious before, and you ignored everything he spewed at you as you single-handedly fought through hundreds of battle droids to get to the two of them. 
Looking into his eyes now, you’re also reminded of the small flicker of hope that broke through the violent rage of his Force signature when he saw you approaching him and Boost. It was that little flame that led you to him and his brother, the same one you could feel slowly heating within his chest now. 
You got the sense that it wasn’t just hope for being saved, but something else entirely, something you prayed for every day and night as you accompanied the Wolfpack on every mission that Master Plo Koon couldn’t go on. 
“Wolffe, I-” before you can try to come up with a response that wouldn’t get you in more trouble, Wolffe takes the last step towards you, slamming both of his arms on either side of your head and caging you in, until the only thing you could see was him. 
“What were you thinking?” He asks once more, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think his question wasn’t about the events of the morning today, but something else entirely.
You swallow down your nerves, knowing that the sentiment about to form on your lips would shift the dynamics between the two of you. 
“I was thinking of you.” 
The reality of the meaning behind your words hits Wolffe almost as soon as you’ve come to accept them yourself. His eyes widen in shock, and you feel his Force signature simmer down soon after, allowing you to say the next confession with ease. 
“I’m- I’m always thinking of you.”
Again, the Clone Commander stands there in a state of surprise and disbelief. You think perhaps that you shouldn’t have revealed to him the reason behind your actions, and before you can apologize for the bold response, you sense a dramatic spike in his Force signature, one that sends a shiver down your spine. 
“Fuck.” He breathes the word with such heartache that you don’t registers what’s happening until you feel the wind get knocked out of you. 
Wolffe lunges at you with a growl, and you part your lips in surprise as soon as you feel his lips dominate your mouth. You allow a few seconds to pass by, mostly so you can be certain you weren’t imagining this and that the call of your name wouldn’t wake you from your sleep and ruin this moment. When he wraps his hand around your throat and pushes you harder into the wall with his body, you know this wasn’t another dream. 
Slowly shutting your eyes, you surrender to the war the Commander was waging on your body, and as you try to wrap your arms around his shoulders, he lets go of your neck and grabs both of your wrists, slamming them harshly against the cold, solid wall above your head before grasping them in one, rather aggressive hold. You sigh into him, melting against the dominance of his touch as his palm returns to your jugular and softly increases the pressure around your neck. 
You tilt your head to the side to allow him more access, and it must be what he wants from you because he deepens the kiss instantly, shoving his tongue inside your mouth until the only thing you can taste is the faint flavor of the bitter whiskey he was drinking earlier. 
But before you can enjoy him, Wolffe pulls away and stares down at you, looking back and forth between your eyes in search of something, of what you’re unsure. You say nothing, whimpering against him as he chokes you harder and pushes the length of his body into your own. 
“You shouldn’t have said that.” His voice is hoarse, engulfing you in a state of unadulterated desire, something you were sure he was unintentionally transferring onto you the longer he kept you in his arms. It’s not that you didn’t feel the same, far from it. It just felt strange to finally sense him so deeply, as if he has kept his emotions bottled up for so long and could no longer hold back now that you voiced your mutual desire for him.
“Wolffe, please.” you moan his name as you throw your head back and enjoy the devastation he was bringing upon your body. 
It must be all he needs to hear because in the blink of an eye, Wolffe is dragging you away from the wall towards the sinks again. He turns around roughly, and you tremble at his handling of you, only to look up and see the way he’s staring at you through the mirror. Before you can say anything, ask him what he was planning on doing with you, you hear the loud sound of plastoid armor hitting the ground. You gulp loudly as you feel his palm across your back, pushing you down slowly until you are bent over the sink, both hands holding onto the steel supporting your body.
“I’m going to fuck you, mesh’la. I’m going to fuck you hard, and mark you up so everyone can know.” The promise he delivers makes you shake with need, and you don’t dare blink away from him, afraid you’d miss the way his handsome features shift with each strike of pleasure he lands on you. Without missing a beat, Wolffe takes hold of your robes and pulls them off of your body, throwing them on the opposite sink before unclipping your lightsaber from your belt. You’re about to ask him to be careful with handling it but he doesn’t give you a chance to say anything, instead hanging it on his own belt carefully to avoid any harm to it. 
You’re not sure why, but the sight of your weapon, a tool that you’ve spent your entire life forming a connection to, hanging around his belt makes you wet, and you stare at its reflection as he moves closer to you, watching as it swings back and forth while he undresses you completely. 
“Don’t you dare look away from me.” Wolffe warns, the growled command pulling your gaze back to his in the mirror and making you wish you weren’t at 79’s but somewhere more private. You nod instantly, wanting him to know that you didn’t mean to shift your attention elsewhere. When he’s satisfied with your response, he reaches around and unzips your pants, dragging them down quickly before taking hold of the hem of your shirt and tugging it up your body. You help him take the offending object off of your person, and watch with fascination as he throws it above your robes before stepping back to look at you. 
You’re nearly naked, and as you look at his reflection, you can’t help the rush of excitement that rakes over your body when you notice the feral, hungry look he was giving you now, as if he’s wanted this for so long and couldn’t believe his eyes. You try to raise yourself a little, but the small movement snaps Wolffe out of his haze, making him return to your space and push you down again. You brace yourself against the mirror, both hands dragging against the shiny, cool surface slowly beginning to fog over from the damp air filling the small room. 
“Look at you, waiting for my next order.” He taunts you then, dragging his fingers up and down the side of your body before bringing his still-clothed chest against your back. The armor is harsh and cold against your heated skin, but you don’t care, knowing that whatever he was planning on doing to you would make you forget very quickly the discomfort of the plastoid. 
“Wolffe.”
“That’s Commander Wolffe to you, mesh’la.” He leans over and whispers in your ears as he reaches around with one hand and cups your breasts. You shut your eyes to relish in the warm touch of his hand, only to open them in shock when he lands a particularly hard slap to your lower thighs not a second after. 
“I thought I told you not to look away from me.” Wolffe growls again, and as you’re about to apologize, he leans over and bites into your neck, chuckling to himself when you moan his name lewdly and arch your back against him. He soothes over the bite with his tongue, kissing along your neck and down to your shoulder as he looks up and sees you staring at him. 
“Maybe you can be obedient after all.” There is a dangerous glint in his eyes, and you nod at him, wanting him to know that you would whatever he says, even if it were at your expense. 
Thinking he would drag this out, you lean down a little more until you can feel the edge of the sink dig into your hips.
“I’m going to fuck you General, until this whole bar knows who’s making you scream.” He says as he lets go of you and palms his cock through the blacks beneath his armor. You want to look at him, and you get the sense that he is daring you to shift your focus from his eyes to his hands, but you don’t give into the temptation, instead biting into your lower lip and doubling down on the eye contact. 
“Please Commander!” You plead for him, no longer caring on whether you sound pathetic or not, and it must please Wolffe greatly, the use of the honorific and the wanton tone of your voice, because he lowers his blacks down far enough to free his cock and spits on his hand before covering himself with the wet palm of his hand. 
“You’re going to leave tonight with my cum trailing down your thighs, General. And if you can be an obedient little sweetheart for me, I’ll make sure you cum too.” Wolffe groans against your ears, making you whine his name over and over again as you feel his hand moving behind you. You want to beg him to end your misery, take what he wants from you and mark you up however he wants, but the only thing that manages to escape your throat is a long sigh in the form of a desperate plea. 
When you feel his fingers push your panties to the side, you brace yourself for the onslaught he would soon deliver to your body. Then he pushes his cock against your wet folds, and you realize that this may hurt more than you initially thought. 
Fuck, you couldn’t wait for that sweet burn. 
You part your lips to tell him exactly that, only to watch as Wolffe stares into your eyes while he pushes his dick into your cunt, not bothering to slow down until he is fully sheathed inside you. He’s larger than you imagined, thicker and warmer too, and you nearly close your eyes to commit this feeling to memory, only to feel a hand grab your neck and push down on it until your gaze is wide open. 
“Keep those pretty eyes on me. I w-want you to watch me as I fuck you, General.” His voice falters briefly, making your heart threaten to leap out of your chest at the prospect of having a similar effect on him as he was having on you. He wraps his other arm around your chest, keeping you flush against him with his unwavering hold on your body. 
“I want you to watch me as I teach your body how to take me…how to pleasure me…how to make me cum.” He breathes heavily against you, barely pulling out before snapping his hips back against you. You cry out his name into the night air, fogging up the mirror further as he quickly sets a pace that makes you see stars. You have no control over your reaction to him, nor to the way he seems to coax pleasure from your body. With each drag of his thick cock against your tight walls, you remember the sliver of hope he offered you all those hours ago, one that was similar in nature to the look he was giving you now. 
“Fuck…I’m going teach you how to be obedient, even- kriff, even if it’s the last thing I do.” His words become less dangerous and more affectionate, and it finally settles in why he’s been so angry with you ever since you saved him and his brother. 
He truly thought you were of more value than him. 
The idea that Wolffe sees himself this way brings tears to your eyes, and you don’t have time to dwell on anything but this sad sentiment before you’re openly crying in his arms. 
Wolffe is too far gone to notice when you start crying, constantly biting into your flesh to prevent himself from dragging you to the ground and mounting you like an animal. He fucks you harder, thrusting his hips against you the more you clench around him and bring him closer to the edge. It’s only when you sob that he realizes you’re practically breaking down in his arms, and he stops instantly, letting go of your neck and almost pulling out of you. 
Then your hand snaps to his wrist and pulls it back to your neck, and Wolffe is unsure of what he’s meant to do. You shake your head at him, quickly wiping away the tears with the back of your arm before returning your hands to the mirror in front of you.
“Please, make me yours.” You hope he understands what you’re trying to say because you’re not sure if your mind will manage to come up with another coherent sentence if he asked you to elaborate. He stares at you for a while, gauging your reaction to his touches as he massages your back and your sides, studying you to be certain of your desires for him. When he finds your gaze unwavering, the beautiful pout on your lips begging for his lips, he slowly drags his hand down your body until they reach the back of your thighs. 
With immense ease, he takes hold of your thigh and pushes it higher, until you’re resting your knee against the sink as well. Your entire upper body is bent now, nearly pushing against the mirror, and Wolffe clenches his jaw tightly before he leans into your space once more, sending his cock impossibly deeper into your cunt. 
“Sir, yes sir.” He whispers his response as he widens his stance and grabs both of your hips, fucking up into you with harsh, deep thrusts until you could no longer keep your voice down. 
You somehow manage to keep your eyes on him through the mirror, wanting to give him whatever he wants so he could keep fucking you. There’s a rush of vulnerability that fills your lungs, and you realize it’s a mixture of both of your feelings when you notice the way Wolffe’s features shift from anger to hurt. 
If he knows you understand why he’s behaving this way, he mentions nothing of it, instead choosing to shove his cock harder into you until the only thing you can focus on is the perfect way he continues to fill you with his dick. You can feel every twitch and every vein on his cock dragging deliciously across your tight, wet walls and consistently hitting that small spot that makes you scream in sheer agony. 
“Mine. You’re fucking mine, mesh’la. You hear that?” Wolffe asks, not really expecting you to respond to his question. 
“Yes, ‘m yours…‘m all yours Commander.” You cry in ecstasy as he tightens his hold around your waist, surely leaving bruises there for you to trace in the days to come. 
“My perfect fucking Jetii’ika, taking my cock like a good girl.” He manages to return his gaze to you now, knowing that he hasn’t imagined you telling him that you were his.
“Fuck…ahh fuck, are you close? Please cyar’ika, tell me you’re close. Tell me you’re going to cum on my cock.” Gone is the menacing, commanding Clone Commander, and you rest your forehead on the mirror briefly before you pull away and look into his eyes again. 
“Not- not until you cum first.” You respond with a whimper, the raw emotion behind your words sending Wolffe into a state of shameless craving, a need to make you belong to him. He leans over you, wincing lightly when you hiss at the cold, plastoid of his armor as it digs into your skin. Wrapping his arm around your body and neck one last time, he turns your head to the side until your lips are near his own, and without wasting another second, he kisses the corner of your lips and whispers one last order for you to follow. 
“Cum for me General, cum for your Commander.” 
“Yes sir.” 
He molds his lips with your own as soon as you respond, swallowing down your moans of pleasure as he pushes his cock one last time into your cunt and fills you with his seed. You shake violently in his arms as you feel the heat of his cum rush into you, painting your walls with hot strings of his pleasure just as he reaches down and flicks your clit with his fingers. You nearly topple over, but Wolffe doesn’t give you a chance to part from him, shifting your neck so he can keep kissing you while he pulls an orgasm out of your abused body. He grunts and bites into your lower lip, grinding his hips against you until you’ve milked him dry, but he doesn’t stop there, continuing to rub your oversensitive clit until you force his cock out of your cunt and fall into blinding pleasure. You break from him then, falling against the mirror as he doesn’t slow down and elongates your climax. Only when you scream and plead for him to stop does he finally remove his hand from your wet folds, resting his entire weight on top of your own as he mirrors your actions and attempts to catch his breath. 
Neither of you say anything for a while, and even though Wolffe had just fucked you within an inch of your life, you can’t find it in yourself to look him in the eyes, the previous shyness you’ve held whenever he’s around returning a thousandfold. 
Once again, Wolffe mistakes your timidity for fear, and he loosens the hold he has on your neck instantly, rubbing your skin to soothe away whatever he’s done to you. You can feel his Force signature shift once again, and you’d tell him later that, for someone who prided himself in keeping his emotions under check, he wore his heart on his sleeves. 
“I’m okay Wolffe, I swear.” You whisper into the silent air between the two of you, waiting until he begins to touch you again with more familiarity before speaking again. 
“I didn’t know, but…I’m not sorry for what I did.” 
It’s probably not what he expects to hear from you, and the reluctant demeanor turns into fiery irritation once again when you meet his eyes through the mirror and he sees that you meant your words. 
“How could you say that?” He asks, not knowing how else he should respond to your confession. 
“Because the thought of you dying scares me to death, and…and I will never value my life more important than your own.” You tell him, matter of factly, hoping that he wouldn’t question your feelings any further. 
“You can’t think like that, General.” Wolffe frowns, sighing heavily as he takes a few steps back and rests against one of the stalls. You mirror his expression and slowly lower your leg to the floor, wincing slightly when a sharp pain shoots across your body and nearly forces you to the ground. 
Wolffe is right behind you in an instant, wrapping his arms around you and turning you around slowly in his arms before pushing you up to sit on the sink. He begins to move away, already regretting everything he’s just done now that he knows how much he hurt you. You don’t let him get too far though, dragging him by his wrist until his arms were framing your body once more. 
“You’re not being fair Wolffe. You- you can’t expect me to not fear for your life the way you do mine. I- I can’t think less of you…I won’t. You have to understand that.” You cup his neck until he looks at you, and it takes too long for his Force signature to finally ebb down again. Only then do you feel confident enough to lean into him and take his lips in a chaste kiss, one that doesn’t remain soft for too long because in the blink of an eye, Wolffe is hugging you tightly and bringing you flush against him. You spend the next few minutes stealing each others’ breath away, and when you’re satisfied enough with his recognition of your emotions, you let go of him and fall back to rest against the mirror. 
A moment later, Wolffe begins to chuckle and digs his nails into your skin as he explores your body. You wipe the sweat from your forehead and watch as he takes in your nearly nude form. There’s a sentiment forming on your lips, one that you knew would shift your relationship with him further, but you get the sense that it wouldn’t be the right time to say it now, mostly because of what it would entail should he say it in return. 
“Looks like we still have to work on your obedience, sweetheart.” You know he’s joking, but the way he looks at you now lets you know that there was some truth behind those words. 
“Whatever you say Commander.” You try to shift closer to him but Wolffe distracts you with a rough swipe of his fingers against the mess in between your thighs. Before you can ask him to slow down, Wolffe grips the edge of your panties tightly and rips them from your body, leaving you as shocked and embarrassed as when he first walked into the refresher. 
“What- how am I supposed to leave now?” You ask, only to cease to breathe when he brings the ruined material to his nose and takes a long whiff of your mixed scents. 
“With all due respect sir, I never promised you’ll be leaving with your dignity tonight.” He laughs as he shoves the fabric into his pocket and puts his slowly hardening cock back into his blacks. You watch as he reaches for the codpiece and latches it onto his armor again, moving to the side to fix his hair and right himself before he hands you your clothes. 
He’s as good as new in the span of a few minutes, and you hate how ruined you look when you jump off the sink and turn around to look at yourself in the mirror. Your hair is a mess, and your neck is littered with love bites, ones you knew would be visible even when you wore all of your robes. 
Pulling your pants back up, you shift uncomfortably when you feel Wolffe’s cum slide down your thighs and make an even bigger mess inside your pants. You shake your head when you glance to the side and watch Wolffe eye you down hungrily, as if he hasn’t just fucked your brains out. 
“I’ll have you know, I could write you up for insubordination…Commander.” You tease him as he hands you your shirt with feigned innocence, all the while dragging his eyes across your body until your skin erupts with goosebumps. You fix yourself to the best of your abilities, throwing your outer robes slightly higher around your neck so no one outside knows what you just did.
Assuming they didn’t hear you scream his name a thousand times already. 
“That’s a little inaccurate, sir.” Wolffe remarks as he unhooks your lightsaber from around his belt and stands behind you again, not moving a muscle until you rest your head against his shoulder and surrender to the sensation of his lips around your neck again. 
“Oh yeah, h-how so?” 
Wolffe chuckles, and you can almost feel the smirk on his handsome features as he continues to shower your flushed skin with kisses. 
“I wasn’t the insubordinate one here…General.” Whereas you heard the growl before, you can feel it rumble against your back now, and you thank the maker that he was standing behind you because you’re sure you would have fallen to your knees if he wasn’t. 
“Hmm.” 
“If you really want to write me up for insubordination, sir…perhaps we can take this somewhere else.” Wolffe traces the length of your neck with his tongue, bringing his arms around your body and cupping both of your breasts in his larger hands to pull you closer to him. 
“And where- oh Force help me, where do you recommend we g-go?” You arch your back into him, throwing your hands back and tugging on his curly locks while he continues to teach your body how to recognize his touch. 
“Well, we can go back to yours…not much privacy though.” 
“No…not- not enough privacy.” You repeat his words, shivering with embarrassment when he laughs at how easily he has you wrapped around his fingers. 
“Or, we can go back to mine.” Wolffe suggests, sucking another red mark on the skin just below your jaw, not caring for how hard it will be to cover up. 
“But…but what if the boys are there?” Your mind is coherent enough to understand the dangers behind getting caught, but your question only makes Wolffe harder, the prospect of his men seeing you beneath him as he fucked you into kingdom come making him wish he didn’t have such nasty thoughts of you. 
“I’m a Commander, cyar’ika. I get to have my own quarters…besides, if I tell the boys they saw nothing, then they saw nothing.” He shrugs his shoulders when you open your eyes and look at his reflection in the mirror. This up close, Wolffe looks more relaxed and content, perhaps even a little younger. You can’t believe how different he appears now, but you can’t find it in yourself to care, mostly because of how delicious those whispered promises sounded to your ears.
“You’re wrong, Wolffe.” You respond to him and watch as his eyebrows furrow at your words. Before he can misunderstand you, you turn around and throw your arms around his shoulders, leaning up on your tiptoes until the two of you are breathing the same air. 
“You’re not just a Commander, you’re my Commander.” 
The smile Wolffe graces you with will be etched in your mind until the end of the universe, and he hums at you approvingle before grabbing your neck and sealing the night in another heated kiss. 
“Damn right I am.”
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Tagging who showed interest in my other Wolffe fic: @mrs-ghuleh @mandoleksiak @verdandis-blog @reaperofmen  @sjva03 @thefact0rygirl @2amandstillawake21 @ktrivia @zombiesnips-blog  @lackofhonor @ner-runi @whore4rex @spaceh0m0 @why-not-movies @yoonloml @where-is-my-mind-tho @okdeedee @clone-simp-99 @lonely-day3636 @cautionhotmess @frogunderarock @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall​ @knightprincess @artemis-rex @raccoonsaregay​ @prozacspice​ @r2d2staser​ @marierg​ @2amandstillawake21​ 
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moodymisty · 8 months
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Author's note: a drabble I made for myself since I love Wolffe
bark bark
Relationships: Wolffe/Fem!Reader
Warnings: NSFW, very soft choking kink, Voyeurism(sex in a storage closet),Probably cringe dirty talk, unprotected sex obv, slightly dom Wolffe
Word count: 1125
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The light is about to burn out. it's so dim in this closet you can barely see anything that isn't directly in front of your face.
Not that there's anything of worth there in the first place; Only a grey ferrocrete wall. You can see the way your palms press against it, cold against your blazing hot skin.
"F-fuck, Wolffe,"
Your pants are partway down your legs keeping them from spreading fully apart, bunched fabric hooking at the knees. It makes your legs bend awkwardly outward to try and support yourself standing, as you lean into the wall that serves as your only support. The inside of your thighs are so slick and wet, your lower stomach tying in knots so much so it almost hurts. Your clit throbs; You want him so bad it fucking hurts.
He can hear your mewling and whining, arching your back to try and press yourself closer against him and get him to fuck your deeper. When you cry his name, beg him, you feel his hand on your collarbone and armored forearm between your breasts. Slightly upward just a bit farther, you feel his gloved fingers wrap around your throat and give one little squeeze; Just enough to warn you. His hand loosens but still remains.
"Quiet. No one gets to hear you but me."
His body is pressed against your almost in it's entirety, his battle marred, grey painted plastoid harsh against your skin. You can feel it leaving marks, even through your clothing. You know that if you leave soon afterwards to look in a mirror, you'll see dents where you pressed against you the hardest.
They'll fade faster than a bite or a bruise would, but it's still a little reminder for when you have to go back to your work.
You know Wolffe can be gentle, but you love him like this; Where he fucks you like an animal and damns any of the consequences. Leaves you sore afterwards and sometimes even into the next day.
"Kriff, your pussy is so fucking wet."
The sound of something hitting the ground with a dull thunk startles you for a moment, but only that. The closet is so small Wolffe probably kicked something with his boot, or maybe it was you. The only thing that matters is it didn't make enough noise to attract any sort of attention. Meanwhile his hips slap against yours hard enough to feel like he's going to drive you into the wall, the head of his cock brushing against a bundle of nerves deep in your cunt that has you seeing stars. It suddenly feels so hot in here, even though you usually complain about the base being incredibly cold.
You barely even remember what you did to end up here; The two of you were in a briefing together along with the rest of the Wolfpack, and you swore all you did was look at him, a small smile as a silent hello. You couldn't do anything more in public like this, even standing closer together was risky behavior.
But the moment that briefing was over Wolffe hunted you down through the halls like you were prey, finding you walking halfway back to your station. You remember his walk; His stride was massive and everyone else in the halls dived to get out of his way, until he managed to find a clearing where no one else could spot either of you. You barely had time to put your datapad in your pack before you dropped it on the floor of this tiny closet and the door trapped the both of you inside. There had been barely anytime to pull down your pants before he stuffed his cock into you, they'd started just below your bottom, but had since fallen now around your knees.
His hand suddenly slides upward your throat to cover your mouth when there's the sound of multiple heavy boots coming closer; A small pack of troopers passing by judging by the weight of the sound. The rough fabric of his glove rubs against your lips as his hot breath brushes over the shell of your ear, as the footfalls get even closer. His hips continue to grind against you, and you're unable to stop yourself from trying to push back against him in a desperate attempt for more.
"Shhh,"
Your eyes glance towards the direction of the door, the bleeding of light from the seams of it breaking in pattern as the troopers pass by. You can hear them talking, chattering about something clearly but the words could be in any language with how muffled they are. Your heart is pounding in your ears and you knees want to buckle but Wolffe keeps you upright; You can hear his soft groans as your cunt tightens around him. He has to tighten his hand harder as you cum on him, feeling the shake of your voice as his palm muffles your moan. It's embarrassing, near frighteningly loud, but it's thankfully not loud enough to attract any attention.
Only Wolffe gets to hear those little noises you make when you cum on his cock, no one else.
Quickly the troopers pass by, and his hand leaves your mouth only to return to your throat as he fucks you harder than he had even before. Your moans come out in cut off gasps as you bite you lip and try not to make any noise; You're already pushing your luck with the sound of his armor pieces hitting your skin, and the wet, salacious sounds of your cunt as he thrusts into you.
"You're all mine, little one."
You move your hips just a bit and whine at the way he seems to fill you so impossibly full, his forehead leaning against your head. Each time his slap against your own it makes your thighs tighten, as your body begins to almost whine at the verge of overstimulation.
When he finally cums inside of you his whole body leans against yours almost taking the breath from you, the hand close to your neck tightening it's grip, but not too much so. You can still easily breath, but it's the feel of his strength being so close that has your shivering. When he's finish he doesn't pull from you yet, coming down from his high.
You can feel his harsh breath against your skin, the slight burn of stubble as his face leans closer.
"What did I do in that briefing?" You say out of breath, wondering what brought this one while still slightly unstable after being fucked breathless. Wolffe's tone of voice almost doesn't fit the sentence he speaks, still so stoic and stern.
"You looked so fucking cute."
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clonesuperiority · 27 days
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Have a Ventress doodle while I'm working on more clone content ����
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pucksandpower · 27 days
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Too Sweet
Toto Wolff x Reader
Max Verstappen x ex!Reader
Summary: Max used to think that you’re too sweet for him … now he has to learn to live with the fact that Toto has quite a sweet tooth (inspired by the song that I’ve had on repeat)
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I take my whiskеy neat
The doors to the upscale restaurant swing open and Max strides through, his fingers lightly grazing the small of your back as he guides you inside. The dimly lit interior is bustling with the chatter of well-heeled patrons enjoying their evening repasts. A sharply dressed hostess greets you with a polite smile.
“Good evening, sir. Welcome to The Sazerac Room. Do you have a reservation?”
“Verstappen,” Max replies curtly.
The hostess consults her tablet, then nods. “Right this way please.”
She leads the two of you through the elegant dining room, weaving between tables topped with crisp white linens and elaborate floral centerpieces. Max keeps his hand at your back, his thumb idly stroking in a soothing pattern as you take in the opulent surroundings with wide eyes.
“This place is incredible,” you murmur, craning your neck to admire the ornate chandeliers glittering overhead. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
He simply grunts in acknowledgment as the hostess stops before an intimate table tucked discreetly in the corner. After pulling out your chair for you with a flourish, she sets two leather-bound menus on the table.
“Your server will be right with you,” she informs them before departing with a polite nod.
You waste no time in opening your menu, hungrily perusing the offerings. “Oh Max, look at all these amazing cocktails! The La Vie en Rose sounds divine — rose liqueur, raspberries, lemon ...” You glance up at him hopefully. “We should get a couple of those to start.”
Max barely glances at his own menu before shaking his head. “I’ll just have a whiskey neat.”
Your face falls slightly at his brusque response. “Are you sure? These all look so good! We should live a little and try something fun for once.”
He fixes you with a stern look from across the table. “You know I don’t like frilly drinks. Now stop pestering me about it.”
Chastened by his harsh tone, you lapse into a wounded silence and continue reading the menu with diminished enthusiasm. A few moments later, a dapper middle-aged gentleman in a crisp suit appears at your table.
“Good evening, and welcome to The Sazerac Room. My name is William and I’ll be your server this evening.” With a polite smile, he produces a notepad from his breast pocket. “May I start you off with something to drink?”
You glance back at Max, giving him one last chance to change his mind. When he simply gazes back at you impassively, you sigh. “I’ll have the La Vie en Rose cocktail, please.”
William jots down your order before turning to Max expectantly.
“Whiskey neat,” Max says flatly. “Redbreast 27 Year, if you have it.”
“An excellent choice, sir.” William makes a note. “And may I bring you both some bread from our bakery while you decide on your meals?”
“That would be wonderful, thank you,” you reply gratefully.
William departs to place the drink orders, leaving you and Max alone once more. An awkward silence stretches between you, filled only by the tinkle of silverware and murmurs of conversation from surrounding tables.
Finally, you try again. “Max, are you sure I can’t tempt you with one little sip? This La Vie en Rose cocktail sounds absolutely divine. You might lov-”
“For fuck’s sake!” Max suddenly explodes, slamming his menu down on the table hard enough to rattle the cutlery. “How many times do I have to tell you I don’t want any of your ridiculous fruity bullshit? I’m a fucking race car driver, not some ridiculous Instagram model trying to look pretty with my drink.”
His nostrils flare as he leans across the table, eyes flashing with irritation that you would dare continue to push the issue. “I’ve had a long fucking day and I am going to drink whatever the fuck I want. So order your stupid fucking girly cocktail if you must, but don’t act so goddamn disappointed and keep shoving it in my face when I say no.”
You shrink back in your chair, eyes widening with hurt at his enraged outburst. The crestfallen look on your face is enough to douse Max’s fury like a bucket of ice water. He slumps back, remorse already stirring as he witnesses the light dimming in your eyes, lips trembling ever so slightly as you blink back sudden tears.
“I … I was just excited to try something new together,” you whisper shakily. “But never mind. You’re right, I’m sorry.”
The arrival of William with a basket of assorted breads and your glittering pink cocktail garnished with raspberries provides a merciful distraction from the tension.
You immediately reach for the drink, wrapping your hands around the delicate stemmed glass and taking a large gulp — both to avoid making eye contact with Max and to sample your coveted libation.
A look of bliss softens your features as the tart, sugary concoction bursts across your taste buds. “Mmm, this is incredible!”
For a beat, Max can’t help but drink in your look of pure enjoyment — the way your eyes flutter closed in delight, pink lips quirking into a contented smile as you savor each sip. It simultaneously tugs at his heartstrings and fills him with an irrational stab of resentment.
Here you are, sweet and radiant, able to find joy in the simplest of things … while he is just a miserable bastard who can’t let himself enjoy anything without getting irrationally angry.
You deserve so much better than him.
The thought is sobering and he feels shame burn hot in his gut. Unconsciously, his shoulders slump as he watches you take another euphoric sip of your cocktail.
“I knew it, this is amazing,” you sigh happily, seemingly recovered from his earlier tantrum as you bask in the deliciousness of your drink. “Max, you have to try just one little-”
“No.” The refusal is automatic, the word slicing through your offer before he can think better of it.
Your face shutters once more, the bright light in your eyes dimming as your smile fades into resignation. With a soft exhale, you set your glass down and reach for the bread basket instead.
“Suit yourself, then.”
As you silently butter a roll, Max finds himself at a rare loss, anger dissipating into regret as the knot in his stomach tightens painfully. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration after his impressive win on the track, a chance for the two of you to enjoy each other’s company and make more happy memories together.
Instead, he’s gone and ruined the mood … again … just like he always does.
***
“Another round?” Checo’s voice cuts through the sound of laughter and chatter around the table.
Max glances up distractedly from pushing the remaining bits of food around his plate. He, Checo, and a few other members of the Red Bull team are celebrating a successful Monaco Grand Prix. Despite making the podium, Max’s mind hasn’t really been on the festivities.
“I’m all set, thanks,” he mutters, raising his glass of whiskey with a tight smile before taking a sip. His gaze drifts across the opulent dining room of Cipriani Monte Carlo, idly scanning the crowd of wealthy patrons enjoying their evening meals.
That’s when his eyes catch on a shockingly familiar figure.
You.
Sitting at an intimate corner table, bathed in the soft glow of a candle’s flickering flame. For a moment, Max’s breath catches in his throat as a thousand bittersweet memories assault him all at once.
The hurt look on your face that night at The Sazerac Room … the resignation in your eyes as you accepted, yet again, that he would never be able to appreciate the sweet, simple pleasures that brought you such joy ...
The cold, empty silence that descended over your apartment when he finally left for good, stuffing his belongings into a duffel bag as you watched with trembling lips from across the room ...
Max blinks, and the moment passes — but his gaze remains riveted to your table. Because there, sitting across from you with adoration written across his insufferable face … is Toto Wolff.
Max feels his lips curl into an unconscious sneer as the Mercedes team principal murmurs something to you with a gentle smile, reaching across to delicately brush a lock of hair behind your ear. You catch Toto’s hand as it falls, pressing a tender kiss into his palm that makes the older man’s expression soften even further.
Your waiter arrives then, providing a momentary distraction as he lays out a couple of fresh cocktails on crisp white linen — a bright purple concoction garnished with a sugared rim and a plump cherry for you and an amber-hued old fashioned for Toto.
Your eyes light up as you take in the colorful beverage, immediately wrapping your hands around the delicate stemmed glass and bringing it to your lips to sample. A look of pure delight crosses your features as the no doubt sugary drink bursts across your taste buds.
“Mmm ...” you hum in pleasure, causing Toto to chuckle affectionately as he watches you enjoy the first reveling sips.
Setting your glass down, you gesture enthusiastically toward it as you address Toto. “This is incredible! You have to try it.”
Without hesitation, the Mercedes team boss dutifully leans across the table to take a long pull from your straw. Max watches with a mixture of disgust and morbid fascination as Toto’s expression morphs into one of surprised enjoyment.
“Wow, that is quite good, isn’t it?” Toto remarks with an indulgent grin, licking a telltale dab of purple syrup from the corner of his mouth.
“I told you!” You crow in delight, eyes sparkling with unrestrained glee.
The pure joy radiating from you in that moment is enough to make Max’s heart clench in his chest. He has seen that look before, so many times — whenever he deigned to let go of his surly demeanor for even a moment and actually indulge whatever fleeting whim or simple pleasure you desired to share with him.
But it was always so short-lived with him, stamped out by his own stubborn refusal to truly embrace anything resembling happiness or frivolity. You deserved so much more than his constant scowling and gruff rebuffs.
As if reading his thoughts, Toto then leans across the table to tenderly capture your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. The gentle intimacy of it makes Max’s gut churn as a feeling too complicated to fully unpack blossoms in his chest.
When you finally part, both of you are smiling at each other with such open, unguarded adoration that it’s almost obscene to witness. Toto reaches out to cradle your face in his palm as your lips find his once more in another chaste, loving caress.
This time, when you pull away, you let your head loll back with a look of pure bliss. Something deep within Max cracks and splinters at the sight. In a haze, he finds himself drifting back through the churning currents of memory ...
… that last, fateful shouting match in your living room, both of you red-faced and furious as the dam holding back all the anger and resentment and accusations that had been building for months finally burst ...
… you weeping silently as you clutched a meager trash bag containing what little remained of his belongings, not even able to look at him for fear of collapsing completely ...
… “I’m too sweet for you, Max. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”
The acid words burn in his mind even now, feeling as fresh and raw as that night they were spat out like venom between you. His chest constricts as his gaze falls guiltily back to the present day scene in front of him.
Toto and you, basking in the warm, rosy glow of new love — careless and unrestrained in your public affection. Delighting in each other’s company and simple pleasures … just as you always desired for Max to do, yet he could never fully surrender to.
The display is like a twisted mirror, taunting him with the vibrant reflection of what he threw away. What he was too foolish, too emotionally stunted and uncaring to fully appreciate at the time.
Stumbling from his chair in a daze, Max barely registers the questioning looks and concerned murmurs from his team as he staggers from the dining room. He hardly makes it to the privacy of the restroom before bending at the waist, hefting the contents of his stomach into the thankfully pristine porcelain basin.
The whiskey burns on the way back up.
Max grips the edges of the counter, face contorted in anguish as a realization washes over him in searing waves.
You were the real prize all along … and now, he’s lost you for good.
My coffee black
The drone of announcements over the PA system and the dull roar of hundreds of people bustling to and fro mingles into an ever-present white noise hum. Max trudges ahead, the brim of his ball cap tugged low as he weaves through the teeming crowds filing through the airports’ terminals.
It’s just after 5 am, the start of another grueling race week. This time the travel will take you from the Middle Eastern leg of the circuit to the other side of the world in Australia. Twenty-plus hours of planes, layovers, and jet lag beckon — a prospect that grows less and less appealing with each passing season.
A warm weight presses against his side as you shuffle along beside him, head lolling adorably as you struggle to keep your eyes open. One slender hand is looped through the crook of his elbow, gripping the strap of your carry-on bag with the other. You let out a jaw-cracking yawn, leaning into Max’s solid bulk.
“I need coffee,” you mumble groggily. “I’m barely conscious.”
He shoots you a sidelong glance, mouth quirking ever-so-slightly at your dramatics. As grating as your tendency for excessive cheerfulness can be at times, he does admire your ability to shake off the fatigue and stress that plagues him more and more these days.
“There’s one of those chains up ahead,” he grunts, nodding toward the familiar logo peeking through from around the corner.
You light up immediately, straightening and quickening your shuffling steps in anticipation of the caffeinated boost soon to come. By the time you reach the counter, there’s a bright spark back in your eyes that makes the exhaustion plaguing Max’s own limbs feel slightly more bearable.
The barista, a pimple-faced youth who can’t be any older than 18, greets you with a too-wide smile. “Welcome to Daily Grind! What can I get started for you?”
You lean in eagerly, surveying the massive display of chalkboard signs advertising the latest sugar bombs and “coffee” concoctions designed to appease the basic palates of everyday people who wouldn’t know a good cup of joe if it slapped them across the face. Max scowls, already anticipating some ridiculously saccharine order.
“I’ll have a large cinnamon honey oat milk latte, please,” you chirp, as expected.
The barista marks down your request with a perky nod. “Excellent! And for you, sir?”
“Black coffee,” Max replies flatly. “Medium.”
Your brow furrows as you shoot him a quizzical look. “Just black coffee? Not even a splash of cream or anything?”
He shakes his head tersely, one hand already rummaging in his pocket for his wallet as the barista rattles off the total. “We’re in a rush as it is, and that sugary nonsense you ordered takes forever to make with all the fussy bullshit they do to it.”
You wince at his blunt assessment, shoulders slumping a bit in a way that makes a pang of guilt flicker through Max’s chest. He doesn’t mean to be so harsh … but sometimes it’s like the more considerate side of his nature has been ground away by years of constant training and calculating every single variable down to the most minute detail.
The poor kid working the register seems to shrink under the intensity of Max’s gruff demeanor. With shaky hands, he quickly processes the payment before stammering out your total. As you shuffle off to the side to wait for your orders, Max can’t help but keep picking.
“Honestly, I don’t know why you insist on ordering those stupid drinks that are 90% milk and trash,” he mutters, shooting you a disapproving look. “Barely any actual coffee at all.”
You frown, immediately hunching into yourself a bit as you cradle a handful of napkins against your chest. “It’s not like that coffee flavor isn’t there at all,” you argue meekly. “And I have to get some kind of caffeine boost to stay awake during all these flights and race weekends. I just … I don’t really like the taste of black coffee.”
Max scoffs loudly at that, shaking his head in open derision. “Sure, because drinking just regular black coffee like an adult would be too difficult. Instead you have to get your ‘caffeine boost’ from some tooth-rottingly sweet concoction that looks like something a child would order.”
The barista shifts uncomfortably behind the counter, clearly flustered by Max’s abrasive tone. Not that he cares — he’s been dealing with people gawking at him in public for years now. What does rub him the wrong way is the wounded look spreading across your delicate features, eyes dropping to stare dejectedly at the floor.
He opens his mouth to continue chiding you, but at that moment the barista appears with your drinks. The sweet, cinnamony aroma of your order hits Max’s nostrils like a slap in the face, making his nose wrinkle on instinct. You accept your oversized paper cup gratefully, hands automatically curling around the comforting warmth.
With visible enthusiasm, you bring the drink to your lips, unable to resist taking a sip despite the scalding temperature. Max tracks the minute changes in your expression — the slight widening of your eyes, the upward quirk of your lips into a smile of unalloyed contentment. Your lashes flutter closed on a quiet hum of blissful appreciation.
“Mmm … heaven,” you practically moan, hunching over your cup as though to better inhale the revitalizing notes of sugar and spice.
It makes Max want to retch, watching you so unashamedly indulging in such vapid, artificial flavors. How can you find such simple-minded pleasure in that, when you could be savoring the bold, robust notes of a proper cup of black coffee? One meant to awaken the senses and caress the taste buds with its smoky aroma and rich, nuanced flavor notes.
“You can’t honestly get any enjoyment from basically drinking hot milk and flavored syrups,” he mutters, sneering at the offensive beverage in your grasp.
In response, you simply shift closer to him until you’re pressed alongside his body. Your free hand snakes around his bicep, squeezing gently as you tilt your head back to gaze up at him imploringly. Exhaustion and hurt war openly with the angelic softness of your delicate features.
“Max … can’t you just let me enjoy this?” You plead in a low murmur. “It’s early, and we’ve got a long flight ahead.”
His jaw clenches stubbornly, unwilling to back down so easily. Caffeine and sleep deprivation have eroded his already thin sense of decorum.
“I’m just saying, drinking a syrupy dessert drink loaded with sugar and god knows what else isn’t doing you any favors. You might as well just stick to black coffee like a normal adult if you want to be awake and energized.”
The wounded look in your eyes deepens into something more somber and resigned. Slowly, you pull away from Max’s side until a noticeable distance stretches between your bodies. Something inside him shrivels at the loss of contact. Your slender fingers work feverishly at the cup’s lid until it pops off with a dull thunk.
Max stares blankly as you march over to the nearest trash can and upend the contents of your cup into the receptacle. You don’t even seem to hesitate — simply turn on your heel and hurl the now-empty cup in after the wasted drink. It clatters hollowly against the canister, mocking and empty.
When you turn back to face Max, the sight makes the now-lukewarm coffee sitting neglected in his own cup feels like a lead weight in his gut. Your arms are wrapped protectively around yourself, hunched against some unseen foe. Head bowed, you refuse to meet his gaze as you slowly make your way back over to where he stands rooted to the spot in stunned silence.
It’s only as you draw up beside him that Max notices the twin tear tracks striping your cheeks. Your chin remains stubbornly trembling, but you make no move to wipe at the tears now falling freely. Max’s chest constricts almost painfully at the sight of your misery, the guilt gnawing at him as the reality sets in.
He is the reason for it. His harsh, uncompromising tongue has wounded you in one of the cruelest ways once again. Too strict, too unyielding, too incapable of allowing even the smallest indulgences that bring you simple joy without sneering dismissal.
For several agonizing moments, the two of you stand in silence amid the milling crowds of travelers streaming past. Max can’t bring himself to meet your gaze, knowing he’ll only find the depths of his own callous thoughtlessness reflected back at him in your swimming eyes.
Finally, you release a shuddering sigh that sounds far too weighted for someone of your sweetness and light. When you speak, your voice is little more than a tremulous murmur laced with dejection.
“Let’s just go to the gate, Max.”
You brush past him without another word, leaving him to trail numbly in your wake as shame burns a hole through his gut. He watches as your form disappears into the throngs, shoulders already beginning to hunch inward as that spark of happiness in you gutters and fades.
Lingering behind, Max’s gaze falls to the empty cup lying crumpled and discarded in the trash. A reminder of yet another instance where his unchecked tongue and inability to empathize has spoiled an innocent attempt at simple pleasure.
His coffee suddenly tastes like ash on his tongue.
As he moves to dump the neglected drink into the nearby basin, Max wonders with a sinking feeling just how many more times he’ll be able to snuff out your light before it dwindles to nothing.
***
The late morning sun bears down with oppressive force, causing a mirage-like haze to shimmer over the sweltering asphalt of the paddock. Despite being early summer, the Spanish air is already thick and heavy enough to bathe Max’s skin in a sheen of perspiration as he trudges toward the Red Bull Energy Station.
Ahead, he spots a cluster of people milling aimlessly near the entrance to the Mercedes motorhome. At the center appears to be you, head tilted back in unrestrained laughter at something George Russell is regaling you with. The British driver is equally animated, pale features scrunched up in exaggerated motions as he relays what is no doubt an amusing tale.
Max feels his steps gradually slow of their own accord as he takes you in from a distance. You seem utterly at ease and in your element — cheeky grin splitting your face, one hand toying idly with the ends of your hair as your eyes crinkle with unbridled mirth.
A pure vision of effortless contentment.
His gut clenches unexpectedly, unbidden memories of how he methodically chipped away at that very lightness in you until it was all but extinguished washing over him in a nauseating wave. How quickly he took such simple joys for granted ...
So transfixed is he by the sight of your open, honest amusement that Max barely notices the figure slipping up behind you. Not until Toto Wolff raises a conspiratorial finger to his lips, eyes twinkling impishly as he pantomimes for silence at a sputtering George.
You remain oblivious even as the Mercedes team principal slides flush against your back, looping one arm around your waist to tug you snug against his chest. With his free hand, Toto cups it teasingly over your eyes — to which you release a tinkling peal of laughter.
“Guess who?” The playful lilt of the older man’s Austrian lilt is unmistakable, dripping with honeyed warmth.
“Hmm … I wonder,” you murmur coyly, making a show of tapping your chin in feigned confusion. “Is it a dashing gentleman caller here to sweep me off my feet?”
Toto chuckles deeply in your ear, the sound positively dripping with unguarded affection. “Only if you’ll have me, liebling.”
Craning your head back with a cheeky grin, your arms instinctively wind around his neck as you stretch up on your tiptoes to greet him properly. Toto meets your lips in a lingering, languid kiss that has George hastily clearing his throat and looking resolutely anywhere but at the affectionate display before him.
When you finally part, all radiant smiles and flushed cheeks, it’s like the rest of the world has completely fallen away. Toto gazes down at you with such pure adoration that Max feels his throat constrict as though a belt is suddenly cinched tight around it.
“I have a surprise for you, schnucki,” Toto murmurs huskily, lips brushing your temple as he speaks.
You light up like a kid on Christmas morning, practically vibrating with excitement at his words. “Oh? Do tell!”
With a wink and roguish smile, Toto brandishes his other hand from behind his back — in it, clutched protectively, is a large cup topped with whipped cream and what looks like edible flower petals sprinkled over the top. The light purple hue of the iced contents catches in the bright sun, refracting a prism of soft, delicate colors.
“I had the barista in our hospitality whip this up for you,” Toto explains fondly. “After I mentioned how much you enjoy trying unique coffee flavors. It’s a lavender vanilla iced latte.”
Your mouth drops open in a perfect ‘o’ of delight as you instinctively make grabby motions toward the tantalizing beverage. Max recognizes that earnest enthusiasm all too well. It’s the same look you used to get whenever presented with any unique taste or experience to appreciate.
A look he always met with disdain and scorn.
Toto doesn’t hesitate for a second before depositing the cup into your greedy hands. You immediately cradle it reverently, as though it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever held. Ducking your head, you take a long pull through the striped paper straw.
The expression that blossoms across your features as that first taste bursts over your tongue is one of pure, unadulterated bliss. Your eyes flutter closed on a muffled moan of sinful enjoyment, lips pursing as though savoring each individual note of flavor. Max hasn’t seen you look that unguardedly delighted by anything in … well, he can’t actually recall the last time.
“Oh Toto, this is heavenly!” You gush, swiping your tongue across your lower lip to catch a stray drop of condensation. “The lavender is subtle, but gives it such a uniquely fresh and floral twist. And the vanilla adds this creamy sweetness that keeps it from being overwhelming.”
You open your eyes to beam radiantly up at the older man, who returns your luminous smile with equal warmth. “It’s perfect, thank you! You have to try it.”
Without prompting, you eagerly offer the cup up to Toto. He accepts it with an indulgent chuckle, locking eyes with you as he takes a contemplative sip — no doubt eager to share in whatever fleeting moment of bliss the simple drink has brought you.
Unlike Max, who would have turned up his nose and likely received it with derision, Toto seems to savor the complex blend of flavors. Humming thoughtfully, he swipes his tongue across his upper lip as though committing each separate note to memory.
“You’re quite right, liebling,” he agrees readily, “this is delightful. So refreshing for this heat. I may have to acquire a taste for these iced coffees myself.”
You positively glow at his assessment, lighting up from within like a joyful little sun. Max is helpless before the storm of emotions suddenly ripping through him at the sight.
“Oh! That reminds me,” you chirp giddily, bouncing on the balls of your feet, “I was talking to the barista about maybe incorporating some other floral syrups for iced coffees too. Like rose or hibiscus! And maybe we could get her to try making those fun layered drinks with the espresso on the bottom-”
Toto’s deep belly laugh cuts off your stream of eager rambling. Without warning, he snakes an arm around your waist and tugs you flush against him once more. You let out a startled giggle as he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, lips brushing the feverish pulse point just beneath your jaw.
“You adorable thing,” he rumbles warmly, words slightly muffled against your skin as he presses a languid line of kisses along the sharp line of your jaw. “So enthusiastic about the simplest pleasures in life ...”
Pulling back, Toto lifts one hand to tenderly cradle the side of your face. You automatically nuzzle into his palm with a look of such smitten devotion that it makes Max’s heart stutter behind his ribcage. When Toto leans in to seal his lips over yours once more, the kiss is deep and thoroughly unhurried — as though the two of you have all the time in the world to savor this intimate little moment.
Max’s hands clench into white-knuckled fists, blunt nails biting crescent moons into his clammy palms. He should turn away, leave you to your blissful display with someone who so clearly appreciates you. Yet he remains rooted in place, unable to tear his eyes from the scene unfolding before him.
It’s like witnessing an alternate universe version of your shared lives play out in vivid, scorching detail.
In this reality, Toto is the one tenderly stroking the pad of his thumb over the elegant arch of your cheekbone as the two of you part, drinking in the sight of your passion-addled features hungrily. He is the one basking in the radiance of your bright and unrestrained joy. Celebrating each of your simple thrills, from the most frivolous of flavored coffees to the sensual graze of skin on skin.
And where does that leave Max? An outsider peering in at paradise with his face smeared against the glass, watching the warmth and affection he could never fully embrace slowly slip through his calloused fingers.
And my bed at three
The mattress shifts, the subtle movement rousing Max from his slumber. He cracks one eye open to find the space next to him empty, the sheets disheveled where you had lain.
A glance at the digital clock on the nightstand tells him it’s not yet 5 am. Where are you going at this hour?
He hears faint rustling from the living area of the hotel suite, followed by the soft click of the door. Groaning, he kicks off the covers and pads out of the bedroom, the plush carpet warm beneath his bare feet.
You’re sitting on the couch, slipping into a pair of flats. “What are you doing up so early?” He asks, his voice still husky from sleep.
You look up, startled. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” A soft smile plays on your lips. “I was going to watch the sunrise.”
Max rakes a hand through his tousled hair. “Why would you want to do that?”
“Because it’s beautiful.” Your eyes sparkle with an excitement he can’t comprehend this early in the morning. “The colors, the way the light slowly creeps over the horizon — it’s just magical.”
He snorts. “It happens every day. Nothing magical about it.”
Your face falls ever so slightly, and it tugs at something in his chest. But the feeling is fleeting, replaced by annoyance at having his sleep disturbed for something so trivial. “So you didn’t want to join me, then?” You ask, almost timidly.
“And wake up before the ass-crack of dawn? No thanks.” He flops onto the couch beside you with a huff. “I was up until 3 am sim racing. Not all of us find staring at the sky such riveting entertainment.”
You say nothing, simply nodding as you avert your gaze. The light in your eyes has dimmed, and he feels a pang of guilt. But he shakes it off — it’s far too early for this kind of whimsical nonsense.
“Suit yourself,” he mutters. “I’m going back to bed.”
He doesn’t see the way your shoulders droop as he turns and trudges back towards the bedroom. Doesn’t see the tears that prick at the corners of your eyes before you blink them away and readjust the set of your jaw with determination.
Max burrows under the covers, fully intent on drifting back into oblivion. But sleep evades him, his mind buzzing with a peculiar restlessness. He punches his pillow into a more suitable shape, flips it over to the cool side, but still he lies awake, listening to the silence that fills the suite.
After what feels like an eternity, curiosity gets the better of him. He kicks off the covers once more and pads over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the city street below. Sure enough, there you are, a tiny figure perched on a bench across the way, your face tipped up towards the slowly lightening sky.
Max leans his forehead against the cool glass, watching as the inky blackness of night gives way to soft shades of periwinkle and lilac. Slowly, the colors deepen into blazing pinks and vibrant oranges that streak across the heavens. The sky ignites in a brilliant blaze of crimson and gold, the clouds set afire by the rising sun.
And there you sit, bathed in the dawn’s ethereal glow, utterly transfixed. In this light, your features seem softer, more at peace than he’s seen you in a long while. A smile plays on your lips, genuine and unguarded, as you take in the spectacle unfolding before you.
Max finds himself holding his breath, as if the slightest movement might shatter the magic of this moment. He’s never seen you look more beautiful, more alive than in these fleeting minutes as day breaks over the city.
A rare pang of tenderness blooms in his chest, quickly overshadowed by a creeping sense of unease. He isn’t certain how much time has passed before the brilliant hues fade into the pale blue of morning, but eventually you rise from the bench, taking one last, lingering look at the sky before turning and disappearing from view.
Max exhales slowly, his breath fogging up the glass. He isn’t proud of how he dismissed your simple joy, that spark of wonderment at the little things that he so often takes for granted.
An emptiness settles in the pit of his stomach, the guilt heavier than before. How many other moments has he trampled on in his relentless pursuit of success?
He thinks of your radiant smile, how it lit up the pre-dawn gloom more vibrantly than the sunrise itself. With a sigh, Max turns away from the window, already dreading the apology he knows he owes you.
Because in that single, breathtaking moment, he realizes just how lucky he is to have someone like you in his life. Someone who can find magic in the mundane, beauty in the simple things he’s become blind to along the way.
Someone, Max fears, who may be too sweet for him.
***
Max gives up on sleep around 4:30 am, as he has for the past several weeks. Insomnia has become his constant, unwanted companion, leaving him tossing and turning until the first hints of dawn creep through the curtains. On nights like this, slumber remains persistently out of reach no matter how exhausted he feels.
He lies in bed, staring at the ceiling as the brightening sky slowly illuminates the room. It wasn’t always this way — he used to be able to sleep like the dead after a race weekend, knocked out by the physical and mental exertion. But lately, his mind refuses to shut off, thoughts swirling endlessly until his head pounds.
With a groan, Max kicks off the tangled sheets and drags himself out of bed. Maybe going for a run will quiet the racket in his brain, at least for a little while. He dresses quickly, lacing up his trainers and grabbing his earbuds before heading out into the semi-darkness.
The pre-dawn streets are blissfully empty as he starts off at an easy jog. He despises becoming one of those obnoxious morning people, but exhaustion has a way of stripping away one’s self-respect. If pounding the pavement before the rest of the world awakes is what it takes to catch a few hours of sleep, so be it.
His route takes him along the harbor, the gentle lapping of the waves against the seawall providing a soothing soundtrack. The first rays of sunlight glint off the glassy surface, and he finds himself averting his gaze, oddly resentful of the impending sunrise.
It wasn’t so long ago that he scoffed at your eagerness to greet each new day. But ever since you’ve been gone from his life, those brilliant, fleeting moments of beauty have begun to mock him at every turn.
He picks up his pace, as if he can outrun the rising sun and the flood of memories it brings. But there’s no escaping the vivid flashes of you, smiling radiantly as the world awakes in a blaze of fiery hues. Or the hollow ache that twinges somewhere beneath his rib cage whenever he’s reminded of just how little he appreciated you.
So lost is he in his circling thoughts that he nearly runs right into you, appearing abruptly on the path ahead. His trainers skid against the pavement as he grinds to a halt, his heart stammering in his chest.
“Max?” You blink up at him, clearly startled by his sudden presence.
He opens his mouth, an automatic apology rising to his lips — until his eyes zero in on the camera clutched in your hands. Of course. Still chasing sunrises after all these years.
A wry grin tugs at the corner of your mouth as you take in his rumpled running attire. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Max says nothing, his gaze flickering briefly towards the brightening horizon before fixing on you once more. You look … well, radiant as ever, lit by the soft morning glow. A small pang of something — longing, maybe — twists in his gut.
“Out enjoying another sunrise, I see,” he says at last, nodding towards the camera.
You glance down at it fondly. “Well, you know how it is. I have to capture them while I can.” A teasing lilt edges into your voice. “Not all of us are night owls.”
He huffs out a humorless laugh. “I’ll never understand what’s so fascinating about watching the same thing happen day after day.”
“But that’s just it — each one is different. Unique and fleeting and … breathtaking.” Your eyes spark with that gentle wonderment he remembers so well, the sight sending a tremor through his chest. “Like getting a front row seat to the greatest show on Earth, but it’s one you’ll never see again.”
You trail off with a small shake of your head, seemingly at a loss to put the feeling into words. Max doesn’t need the explanation — he’s seen that look of childlike awe on your face more times than he can count.
An awkward silence stretches between you, laden with the weight of history and unspoken apologies. You shift your stance, mouth opening as if to say something more.
But Max cuts you off before you can get the words out, unable to bear whatever sentiments might cross those sweet lips of yours. “Toto not joining you this time?” He asks gruffly.
Your expression softens into a fond smile, and it’s like a physical blow to Max’s sternum. He knows that look, has been on the receiving end of it more times than he cares to remember. The way your entire being seems to brighten when you so much as think about someone you love.
“Ah, you know Toto — he’s more of a sunset person,” you say with a light laugh. “I’ve never been able to drag his grumpy butt out of bed for a sunrise.”
Even as his insides curdle with jealousy, Max can’t help the quirk of his lips at the mental image. He could all too easily picture Toto swatting irritably at you, burrowing deeper under the covers to escape the blasted sun.
“But we make it work,” you continue, that loving glow refusing to dim from your eyes. “I take photos of the sunrise to share with him later. And he does the same with the sunsets for me. That way, we both get to experience it in a way.”
The gentle sound of your voice washes over Max like a salve, momentarily easing the tangled knot of regret and longing that’s taken up permanent residence inside him. He watches, transfixed, as the early morning light bathes you in ethereal radiance.
In that moment, he sees it so clearly — the depth of give and take in your relationship with Toto. The effort, large and small, that you both put into nurturing one another’s happiness.
Even when your desires don’t perfectly align. Even when compromise is required.
It’s such a simple gesture, capturing those magical moments to share with your loved one. But it’s one Max was never willing to make when you were with him.
A lump forms in his throat as realization washes over him with unforgiving clarity. You weren’t too sweet for him, as he had so arrogantly assumed time and again. No — the truth, much harder to swallow, is that he was simply too sour for you.
Too selfish, too wrapped up in his own ambitions to make even the smallest concession. Too blind to recognize the magic in the simple things that brought you unbridled joy. Too bitter and jaded to embrace and nurture the beautiful nature that made you … well, you.
And now, after all his careless cruelties and wasted chances, he can only stand idly by and watch as someone else basks in the sweetness of your affection. As someone else goes out of their way, day after day, to put that blinding smile on your face and those stars in your eyes.
Something in Max’s chest cracks and crumbles at the injustice of it all. At the agonizing truth that he let the best thing in his life slip through his fingers, all because he couldn’t be bothered to change his sullen ways.
Because you were never too sweet for him … he was too sour for you.
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lucyrose191 · 2 months
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BROKEN DECISIONS: HEALING| T.WOLFF
Pairing; Toto Wolff x fem!Schumacher!reader
Summary; You had learned to channel the pain from Toto’s actions into the need to protect and love your child. You were healing but will that be affected by Toto finding out the reason you suddenly disappeared?
Warnings; Age gap mentioned but not specified. Fluff.
Author’s Note; I know I said I’d post a Seb fic before this but this was so much easier to write and I had a lot more motivation for this. Possibly a part 3 if you want.
F1 Master List, Part 1
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September 2024
The pain that had consumed you so overwhelmingly all those months ago had seemingly disappeared as you stared down at your daughter who lay in your lap, eyes closed as she slept peacefully, subtle puffs of air released as her chest raised every few seconds.
The thick tufts of bright white hair that sprouted from her head marked that little Alina Elisabeth was most certainly a Schumacher.
Maybe you should feel guilty for the relief that settled in you at the lack of resemblance she shared with her father but the love you felt in your heart as you stared down at the person you cared the most for in this world shrouded any negative emotion you could possibly feel.
The loneliness you had felt was also no longer lingering in your chest, your family had been your rock since the moment you arrived in Switzerland, your mother especially. Mick ensured her was there for you too, even though he was busy with the world endurance racing, he made sure he called frequently and tried to visit when he could.
You sent him a photo of his new niece as soon as you could after giving birth to her and he was already besotted and excited to meet her.
The pain from birthing her had also long been forgotten, unlike the memory of holding her for the first time.
It was hard to describe the rush of emotions that were bursting beneath your skin. You would go to hell and back again if just to experience this for the rest of your life, to continue living in this bubble of warmth and completion.
There was the slightest bit of lingering sadness towards the knowledge that Toto hadn’t been by your side yesterday and witnessing his daughter being brought into the world, maybe it was even unfair that he had been robbed of that opportunity but then you remembered how you had tried to tell him the news of your pregnancy before you left and how he refused to listen.
You weren’t going to beg and plead for him to listen to what you had to say, no matter what there news was.
You had a lot more respect for yourself than that.
It didn’t matter anyways, you didn’t need him and you’d ensure that Alina didn’t need him either. You have full confidence in your ability to raise her alone and give her the best life she could possibly have, a life that would provide her with opportunities others could only imagine having.
November 2024
Alina Elisabeth Schumacher was now two months old and each day it felt as though your love for her multiplied.
Even through the rough patches where you seemed lost in knowing what she needed or what was wrong, it didn’t deter you in the slightest. You had smiled more in the last two months than you had in the last ten years and it felt riveting.
Never would you have thought that a child could fill a gap in your life that you didn’t even know existed but here she is and your heart is full.
Your life felt whole and complete and you owed everything to her, to your little girl who had fixed your healing heart without even trying, just by simply existing.
Today was an important day, Mick was coming home after finishing the world endurance season, which he had performed amazingly in, and it was going to be his first time meeting his niece in person.
You had FaceTimed so much in the last few months, Mick hadn’t wanted to miss any part of his niece growing and so every night at around six he’d ring so that he could say goodnight to her, no matter what time is was where he was at.
Alina loved her uncle already.
It was around 2pm when you heard the front door open followed by the sound of bags dropping to the floor and Mick walking into the kitchen.
You didn’t waste any time in wrapping him into a hug. "Hey, how are you?"
Mick tucked his head into the crook of your neck and tightened his arms around you. "I’m great, it was amazing but how are you, are you okay?" He asked, pulling away and holding onto your shoulders as he looked you up and down.
You smiled at him in pure happiness. "I’m amazing, she’s amazing. Come and see her," you told him and grabbed his hand, pulling him upstairs to your room.
Alina was napping which is all she ever did at her young age but you didn’t care if she woke up because the look of awe on Mick’s face as he set his eyes upon her would make it worth it.
"She’s tiny," he whispered, reaching a finger inside the cot and smiling as she wrapped her fist around it. "She looked so much bigger over the phone, she’s beautiful, Y/N, really." He looked up at you and smiled.
"That’s because she takes after me," you smirked and he rolled his eyes, slowly pulling his hand away before turning to you.
"Do Mum and Gina know?" He asked.
You didn’t need him to emphasise, you both knew what he meant, the unspoken topic that neither of you brought up throughout your entire pregnancy and even after.
"No," you replied honestly, swallowing uncomfortably.
"Y/N-" he sighed.
"Don’t," you cut him off. "He didn’t want to know, Mick. He didn’t care and I’m not going to beg him to."
The sympathetic look he gave you in response to the defeated words you spoke filled you with the need to cry but you didn’t.
You simply stood there for a moment before sighing. "I think I’m going to quit."
Mick gave you a look of horror. "What!?" He whisper shouted. "You can’t, you’ve been with Mercedes for nearly a decade!"
You shrugged. "I don’t want to work for him anymore, not when he is adamant on acting as though he didn’t give me the wrong impression, as though I don’t have his daughter at home who he doesn’t know about because he didn’t care enough for me to tell him."
He didn’t say anything, knowing that your point was completely reasonable. He just hoped this didn’t ruin everything you had worked for.
December 2024
You walked side by side with Mick through the pits of the Yas Marina circuit in Abu Dhabi, drawing quite a bit of attention to yourselves, not only because this is the first glimpse anyone has seen of you all year but because of the three month old you held in your arms.
You walked into the Mercedes garage as though you weren’t about to reveal why you hadn’t participated in this season, pretending you didn’t notice how everyone paused what they were doing to stare as soon as you crossed the threshold.
Their stares burned into your skin but none more than Toto’s, you felt the trail his eyes left across your entire body and the way they settled on the sleeping baby in your arms.
You ignored the burning sensation he was leaving on your skin, instead focusing on the mechanics and other team members that were approaching to speak to you and introduce themselves to Alina.
It was around twenty minutes later before you were left alone, Mick took this opportunity to take Alina to go and show her off to anyone who would give him the time of day, you loved how much of a proud uncle he was.
"Can we talk?" His voice was low and gravelly in your ear as he spoke in a hushed whisper, startling you momentarily.
You scoffed and shook your head. "You weren’t up for talking in January, I’m not up for talking now."
"It’s important," he tried to reason and you laughed.
"What I wanted to say was important but you didn’t care, what was important to me wasn’t important to you. It’s not nice being on the receiving end of that, is it?"
You had hit the nail on the head with that one and by the stunned silence Toto was confined into, he knew that as well.
"Please, I know I don’t deserve it but can you please just come and have a civil conversation with me in my office," he pleaded, knowing that he really had no leg to stand on because he was the one that was completely in the wrong.
You wanted to make a comment about how poetic it was that he wanted to go and talk in his office, just how you did all those months ago and yet you had no luck but you didn’t.
You relented and agreed but that did not mean you were going to be easy on him.
You sighed and stood up from your seat, following him to his office.
You refused to speak first as he shut the door which resulted in a thick, heavy silence for a couple of minutes as you both stood there, Toto staring at you whilst your eyes strained on the ground.
"What happened in Abu Dhabi last year-" he started causing you to look up at him, not expecting him to even bring that up considering how certain he was to avoid it before.
"It wasn’t a mistake, I just- I spent two years fighting my feelings for you because you deserve so much more than I am. The baggage I come with- I’m divorced twice and I have kids and I’m so much older than you and you deserve so much more than to be with a man that comes with all that and can’t give you everything."
You stared at him blankly though you were surprised that he had supposedly felt something for you for an entire year before you noticed anything.
"I never thought of you as anything but my boss and a friend but then last year, the way you looked at me and the way you acted, I thought you liked me and it confused me, my mind was baffled the entire season but no matter what you caused me to feel, I fought against it but then with his forward you were in Abu Dhabi, you made me think you actually wanted me and even if you didn’t then that’s fine but what isn’t fine is leading me on with your stares and your touches and then leaving me alone in a hotel the moment I gave in and even after that when I tried to speak with you, you ignored me and dismissed me. Do you know how used and disgusted I felt?"
You knew the look of guilt on his face wasn’t fake but that didn’t change anything, his guilt was nothing compared to what he had put you through.
"I thought I was doing what was best for you," he replied defeated, knowing how pathetic he sounded and how weak his response was.
"I couldn’t look at myself without feeling the urge to throw up after the way you left me there and it was all down to your insecurities which are ridiculous by the way. I can’t believe you think I’d care about how many times you’ve been married or how many kids you have or how old you are, I only ever wanted someone who loved me and treated me right, you could’ve done that but the man that spoke to me in January, I’ve never seen you like that and that man is not someone I would ever be with."
"You didn’t deserve that," he replied in agreement. "I was overwhelmed by the guilt I felt for leaving you there and trying to ignore my feelings for you which I thought were wrong to be feeling but it is not an excuse for the way I spoke or dismissed you, it was wrong of me. I’m sorry."
"I know," you shrugged. "But I don’t forgive you, not right now at least."
Toto shook his head. "I’ll earn your forgiveness." He said confidently.
"Okay." You whispered.
The air between the two of you shifted as Toto looked at you apprehensively, shifting on his feet. "Your baby-" your heart thumped loudly in your chest. "Is she?" He asked, not needing to continue.
You weren’t going to deny the truth and so you replied honestly. "Yes, it’s what I tried telling you in January."
The look of anguish that appeared on his face was heartbreaking to see because you could tell he truly regretted his actions but it was simply the consequences of his decisions, he was still able to make up for it.
"What did you name her?" He asked quietly.
"Alina Elisabeth Schumacher, Elisabeth after my grandmother."
"You chose well…. Could I meet her?" He asked carefully, not wanting to overstep with you but of course you would allow him to see her, not only because your daughter deserved a chance to have a father but because you knew he was a good father and he would’ve been there had you been given the chance to tell him of her.
"I’ll go and get her." You told him, swiftly walking passed him and out of the door.
It was George that happening to be holding her as you re-entered the garage, the man looking up at you with a pleased smile. "Y/N! I’m happy your back, am I getting my beginner back next year?" He asked as he handed her over to you.
You smiled weakly and shrugged your shoulders. "I’m honestly not too sure yet, George but I’ll let you know."
"No worries," he waved you off. "She’s beautiful by the way."
You thanked him before turning away and heading back to Toto’s office.
Alina was wide awake now and her dark eyes were looking around curiously as you walked through the small corridor.
As soon as Toto’s eyes laid upon her you practically saw how he immediately fell in love with her, his eyes softened as they took in her features, probably trying to find anything that resembled himself.
"I think she has your eyes, but that’s about it," you commented lightly causing him to laugh.
He stepped forward and held his hand out for her, smiling and laughing as she reached out and grabbed his finger before shoving it into her mouth.
He looked at her in awe, as if he couldn’t believe she was a part of him. He reached out with his other hand and tickled her cheek with his finger causing her to gurgle around his hand.
"You can hold her," you told him, lifting her out towards him. He looked at you unsurely but you encouraged him with a nod and that was everything he needed to take her into his arms.
Alina threw away her grip on his hand as he held her and instead pressed both of her hands into his cheeks and pressed her face up against his causing you both to burst out into laughter which resulted in her copying you.
"She’s so small," he muttered almost to himself but you heard him.
"She didn’t feel it when I was pushing her out but she does look it," you joked but also serious, it had hurt like hell.
The mention of her birth spiked a sudden interest. "When was she born?" He asked.
"September 3rd, she was two weeks late, didn’t want to leave I suppose so I had to get induced."
He looked at you worried. "You didn’t do it alone, did you?"
You shook your head, "No, don’t worry, my mum was there with me."
"That’s good," he replied, pulling away from Alina’s grabby hands and instead brought her into a hug, resting the side of his head against hers.
God did he look good holding her.
Alina cooed and babbled as she lied her head on his shoulder and reached her hand up to grab his ear and pull on it.
The immediate connection between the two was impossible to miss and it was sad they had both missed out on this but you refused to let yourself feel guilty about it.
"Thank you for this," Toto’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. "I know I don’t deserve it."
You shook your head. "You deserve a relationship with her, no matter what I wouldn’t have kept her from you."
He smiled and tightened his hold on Alina, still struggling to believe she was really his.
He had four kids. Wow.
He did not want to think about how he was going to explain this one to them.
"We should probably go back out there, there’s still a race that’s about to start." You mentioned, hating to break him out of his bubble but he had priorities.
After much coercing, you managed to get him out of his office but he kept his hold on Alina, he didn’t think the team would suspect anything, they probably just thought he wanted to hold her but even if they did have suspicions, he didn’t care.
Everything felt right as he held her, now he just needed to make it up to you and he would do everything needed for you to forgive him because he wanted this, he wanted you and this family you had created, no matter how long it took.
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People who asked to be tagged or asked for a part 2:
@pear-1206 @luckyladycreator2 @urmotheris @lightdragonrayne @viennakarma @woozarts @carolloliveerr @nuggetvirgo @myescapefromthislife @minkyungseokie @oatmealandsugar @hc-dutch @arieltwvdtohamflash @grayxiu @bigsimperika @emilyval1 @eternalharry @msbyjackal
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norrisleclercf1 · 2 months
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Can I request Dad!Toto taking a day off to spend it with his family, readerxwife? Thanks!
A/N: I haven't written for Toto in so long
"Babe," Toto groans, feeling the hand shake his broad shoulder, trying their best to wake him up. "Humph?" He asks, rolling over and pulling your body closer to his. "You're late for work," You whisper, knowing he hated nothing more than being late.
"Not late, not going in today," He whispers back, which has you grow quiet. He can't stop the smile that grows on his face when you go oh softly. "Go back to sleep, darling." You nod your head as you close your eyes, the sound of Toto's soft snoring fills your ears.
You wanted to go back to bed but you knew that it would be hard when the door slowly creaks open and little body climbs into bed. "Momma," You crack your eyes open, seeing your little girl Anabella staring at you. "Papa is here," She says, shocked. Normally he was up and gone before she could wake or and go to sleep.
It was hard on Toto, not being there for his little girl often, she admired her Papa so much and so to have him here, meant so much to her. "Yes, Papa is spending the day with us," A little toothy grin spreads on her face which has you giggle and open your arms. Anabella having no issue crawling into them as you sigh, enjoying the warmth and little weight of her body in your arms.
"Papa," Anabella whispers, her little finger poking her Papa's cheek. You giggle as you notice Toto's little smile, but he quickly schools his face, as Anabella whines. "Paaaappaaaa," She whines and pokes his cheek again. Toto chuckles and opens his eyes, as Anabella flops down and lies face to face with him.
"Ja, meine süße Kleine?" He asks, which has her smiling and you as you knew she loved being called his little one. "Are you staying home with Mama and I?" Toto groans and pushes himself up on his arms and pulls you two into his arms. "Yes, if that's okay with you my little one." Anabella giggle and nods her head and holds her arms out.
Toto smiles and barely puts any weight on her as he lays his head on her stomach. "Yes, I want to spend the day with you," You smile and roll to the side and take in the sight of your little family. "Papa?" Toto smiles and pushes her hair out of the way and hums.
"Can Lewlew come over and play?" Toto sighs and drops his head while you bust out laughing as Toto blindly reaches for his phone. Yes, I'll see if Lewis can come over and play,"
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agendabymooner · 6 months
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SOMETHING BIG !!! TOTO W. X FEM!READER
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summary: she was too good for him, and he was just a perfect fit.
content warning: smut content (minors dni!), explicit language, pwp, size kink, creampie, praise kink, beta reading what is that we rawdog our writing in here
note: just reached 400+ notes on the max verstappen one… we all need to touch some grass. enjoy xx
a - n masterlist
o - z masterlist
send your 💌re:moony’s planner requests here!
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this wasn’t the first time she found herself in such a compromising position: her back against the mattress, her body folded in half and her legs hanging over his shoulders while his cock repeatedly speared her insides. this wasn’t the first time, but his size always made their encounters feel like it.
she didn’t complain; instead, she begged for more. she wanted to feel all of him and who was he to deny such a pretty plea?
“f- fuck,” she stammered, her mouth opening slightly as she gasped, “h- s’good. so, so good… fuck!”
toto’s 6’5 being hadn’t helped the intimidation that she normally felt, either. six months into the relationship and she still felt intimidated by his aura.
he didn’t want her to feel that way. in those days when cameras and other people weren’t around, he showered her with affection and adoration. he showed her a side that most people wouldn’t have a chance to see; one that she loved the most.
but there were times when she just wanted him to ruin her. much like now.
toto groaned in satisfaction, his hands keeping a tight hold on her ass while his cock continued to split her body. she was so light for him that he hadn’t realized her hips were lifted off the mattress. “fucking hell. you’re doing so well for me, schatzi.”
his hand took her smaller one and brought it down to her lower stomach, his hips snapping against hers as her lower stomach bulged. “d’ya feel that, schatz?”
“i- mh- hm~” she cried out, whimpering at the thought that it was him— that was an imprint of him inside her. that her body was being imprinted and fucked by his cock— one that she thought wouldn’t fit inside her.
yet he did. he fit perfectly well and he continued to be the only person who’d ever fit so well inside her.
“so fucking good for me, schatz,” he growled, his hand now reaching down to rub her clit vigorously as her mouth let out a squeak. “letting me fuck you like this— like a good girl you are. such a perfect girl with a perfect pussy…”
“ngh~ toto,” she whined, squirming against him as his fingers moved in circles on her clit, “s’good… please!” her body remained folding in half, her cunt splitting as he thrusted. her stomach fluttered at the feeling of an incoming orgasm, her body shaking as her walls clenched around his cock.
“gonna cum in you,” he groaned, his hips pistoning against hers. “gonna fuck you full of my cum— fuck, schatz. gonna make sure you’re filled to the brim with my cum— fuck!”
his hips stuttered as he let out a moan, feeling her come around him while she cried out in pleasure. her mind felt hazy, only thinking about the oversensitivity that she felt as her vision turned white.
she almost whimpered at the emptiness when he pulled out slowly, her body limping to the bed as she tried to keep her eyes open, but her mind eventually gave up as she kept her eyes closed.
toto sighed, looking down at his handiwork as he watched the mixture of his and her pleasure leaking out of her glistening cunt. so fucking perfect.
he smiled to himself, eventually finding himself lying next to her. pulling her closer, he leaned down to press a kiss on her hair before murmuring, “you did so good for me.”
of course she did. nobody could handle him and his figure more than she did. nobody could handle his desire and lust like she did, and was he ever thankful for that.
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old-lorarri · 1 year
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❨ football masterlist ❩
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𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐗
𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒
𝐅𝟏 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐃
𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐙
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐂
𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐎
𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒
𝐋𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐎𝐍
𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓
𝐌𝐀𝐗 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍
𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
𝐎𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑 𝐏𝐈𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈
𝐓𝐎𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅𝐅
𝐘𝐔𝐊𝐈 𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐃𝐀
𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒
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whorekneecentral · 5 months
Text
Winter Wonderland
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Toto Wolff x Fem!Reader
Warnings: toto would do anything for reader, some friendly teasing, alcohol and the consumption of, a bit of an age gap (reader's late 20s/early 30s), handsy toto, the two of you are kinda drunk, daddy kink, oral (f!receiving), fingering, slight edging, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie.
Word Count: 1,772
Author's Note: this one goes out to all the dilf lovers.
merry smutmas series
--
Your husband skips out on Christmas every year due to work but this year, he ends up in London. You make it your mission to introduce him to some holiday fun.
Toto had one last work engagement to do this week before he's officially off for the holidays and it took him to London. So by extension, you made it to London as well.
Your husband had left you in the hotel, promising you that he'll be back in a few hours after doing his final work meeting before he was on holiday break.
When he returns, he finds you in the same spot he left you, on the couch. "Babe, have you not gotten up all day?"He asks, shrugging his coat off.
"I did, I ordered room service so I had to get it from the door," you tell him, eyes glued to the TV.
Toto laughs, making his way over to sit next to you. You lean into the man, his arms wrapped around you and you can still feel the chill on his skin despite him wearing a coat when he was outside. It takes him a second to realize that you weren't in your pyjamas, but you were dressed as if you were going out.
The man looks at you with raised eyebrows, there's a hint of a smile on your face. "I know that look, what are you up to?" He asked.
"Okay I know you're probably tired but we leave for home tomorrow and I really wanna go!"
"Go where?"
"Hyde park," you tell him, showing him the pictures of their winter wonderland on your phone. "I saw the ad already for their winter wonderland today and then I looked it up and I fell into a loophole, so now we have tickets." You smiled sweetly at him - if there was one thing more important to Toto than work, it was you and your happiness.
"Are you serious, y/n?"
"Yes, now come on," you get up, trying to pull him up. Toto huffs, "I have emails to answer." He reluctantly follows you to the door.
"The emails will still be here when you get back," you handed him his coat before putting your own on. "Let's go."
Toto drives, of course - not like he ever lets you drive anyways. The first half hour was just the two of you trying to find your way around, it was a lot more packed than you were expecting but to be fair it was a week until Christmas, so it was to be expected you suppose.
You grab his hand and pull him towards what seems to be a circus tent. Toto looks at you a bit unsure for a moment, "is this.. an actual circus?" He followed you in and his question was answered; it was.
He sits next to you in the back row, the two of you waiting for the show to start. "Are you 5? Why are we at the circus ?"
"I mean, in comparison to you, I basically am." You smiled and he chuckled, his hand in yours as you two watched the show.
He would never admit it to you but he enjoyed doing things like this with you, it was nice to see that you kept a bit of your childishness alive.
After the circus, you made your way around the park once more, taking a million photos and trying out all the games until Toto was lugging around a big bag with stuffed animals.
"Do you think that's enough?" He asks, walking towards the car. You shrugged, "I guess but I'm hungry now."
"Dinner then?" He suggests, nodding to the busy street. You're not, fingers interlocking with your husband as you walk down the street towards no actual destination in mind. You were just hoping to stumble upon a place that wasn't too busy.
And eventually you did, a little restaurant tucked away between all the madness. You and Toto sat at a table by the window, the table covered in junk food and a bottle of cheap wine.
"Did you have fun tonight ?" You asked your husband, popping a fry into your mouth. He shrugs, taking a sip of wine. You can't help but roll your eyes, "you totally did! Don't lie."
Toto laughs, a grin on his face. "Yeah, okay. I did have a little fun, but maybe next time find an indoor activity?"
"Nope," you popped the P, "as your wife, it's my job to make your life unnecessarily complicated, just for fun."
He rolls his eyes, taking some fries off your plate. "You'll be the death of me."
You two ended up topping off the bottle of wine, Toto pays the bill and his fingers interlock with yours as you walk back to the car. The streets have calmed by now, but there's a few people walking around on their way to wherever.
Your husband pulls you into his side, your arm wrapped around his torso as you make it back to the car. The man has you leaning on the hood, his cold hands cupping your cheeks before he kisses you. His hands wander and you blush, stopping him.
"Not here."
"Don't tell me you're getting shy on me." He kisses along your cheek, the tip of his nose cold as it rubs against your skin.
You giggled, giving him a slight shove off of you. "We're in the middle of the street, it's more like stopping you from getting arrested for public indecency."
He laughs, opening the car door for you and letting you get in. Toto's hand rests on your thigh the entire drive back to the hotel and he can barely keep his hands off of you to make it up to the room.
His lips on your neck, arms wrapped around you from behind, the two of you giggling as you attempt to open the door.
"It's not opening," you grumbled, trying to unlock the door.
Toto pulls on the handle a bit, pressing the key to it. "Finally," he says when the lock clicks, "let me unwrap my gift."
You giggled, rolling your eyes at your husband's cheesy use of the words, but you let him drag you into the room and drop you on the bed.
He's careful, even though he's drunk - his movements are exact as he undoes the buttons on your shirt, tossing it into the pile of clothes that's developing on the floor.
"Move your legs, baby." He whispers, moving them up to rest on the edge of the bed as he drops himself down onto his knees. You’ve propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him and Toto drags his fingers up your thigh, moving to your clothed pussy. 
“I like this,” he tells you, fingers rubbing over the red lace that covered your cunt.
You smile, “I know. Wore it just for you, daddy." The name makes the man smile.
Toto can feel your eyes on him, he reaches for the red lace you’re wrapped up in and tugs it down your legs, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of your clothes. He shifts to lay on his stomach between your legs, leaving a trail of kisses as he works his way up to your cunt. 
Your eyes meet his, he knows you’re looking. He wants you to look at him. 
Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair. He knew you like the back of his hand, gripping your thighs to keep them in place as his tongue lapped your clit. Your hips buck, your way of saying you want more.
Two fingers pushing into you, he glances up to see your head tossed back onto the pillows, eyes fluttering shut and your free hand groping your tit. 
Between his fingers and his tongue, your orgasm was teetering on the edge; he knew that much. 
He's sick and twisted and pulls his hands away, the sticky fingers wiped on your inner thighs. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of fullness. 
"I hate you," you grumbled, your husband smiles as he kisses you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. "You love me."
"Sometimes."
He smiles, standing up to undo his pants. Toto pulls you back to the edge of the bed, one of your legs hitch on his hip as his hand wanders.
Your eyes fixed on his hand that was moving down your chest at the moment. Toto's lips follow his fingers, kissing and leaving little marks as he goes along his way. His tongue brushes over your nipple, your back arches involuntarily; your body betrays you. 
Your eyes find his and his hand rubbing along your thigh before pulling you toward the edge of the bed a little more before he pushes into you. The other ankle is over his shoulder now.
He fucks you the way he knows you like it; rough.
You were a sight to see; back arched off the bed, hair sprawled out in perfect curls, eyes closed and your head tilted back, his name tumbling from your lips for what felt like the millionth time.
He’s never seen a prettiest sight.
He feels you clench around him, the hand on his shoulder digs in, your nails leaving behind their own set of marks. His hand reaches between the two of you, his fingers finding your clit once again.
“Oh my god,” your hips bucked, his fingers matching the pace of his hips, your body rocking back and forth to get the most out of him.  
“C’mon pretty girl, want you to cum for me.” he says, knowing it won't be long more, especially not after him leaving you on the edge earlier.
He watches as your eyes flutter shut and he reaches you with his other hand, holding your jaw and pulling you up a little, your elbows holding up the weight of your body.
"Open your eyes, baby, look at me." He whispers, kissing you softly.
A few more sloppy thrusts and between that and his fingers, you’re over the edge.  He kisses you, muffling the noise you were making. The wetness wrapping around his cock, and with a few sloppy thrusts, he follows behind you. 
It takes you a second to gather yourself and register that your husband has collapsed on top of you. Your hands rubbing over his back.
"You okay?" you asked him quietly and the man nodded, moving so you two could lay comfortably.
Your leg draped over his, his arm wrapped over your shoulder. You catch him staring at you and you smile, nodding. "What?"
"We should come to London every year."
"Yeah," you nod, resting your head on his chest. "I'd like that."
---
taglist:  @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus
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natailiatulls07 · 8 months
Text
A Redbull girl
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2023 formula one grid & female!driver!reader (mainly redbull)
Summary - Summer break is over and the redbull family is back together
Warning - None, Y/n gets drunk?
Part 2
Reader drives for Redbull
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yourusername
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One last summer dump before we return to the tracks
Liked pierregasly and 38,976 others
username I want to be her.
username The way that everything she does is perfect 🤭
f1 Can't wait to see you again!!
maxverstappen1 Why? just why?
= yourusername Because I can 😌
username She is going to smash everyone out for the first place position I just know it, mark my words.
= username Thats redbull for you, brings out the best drivers!
f1gossip
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Spotted: Y/n L/n, one of redbull's drivers, has arrived in Zandvoort, Netherlands only two days before the official race weekend
Liked by username and 4,786 others
username I am so excited to see more redbull Y/n content!
username Even when she hasn't done any makeup or her hair is a mess, she still looks fucking amazing!!
username I love her so much
maxverstappen1
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Went out clubbing before the race weekend, it's safe to say that Y/n got the most drunk lol
Liked by charles_leclerc and 45,378 others
username The budlight box 💀
yourusername I am definitely feeling the consequences
= landonorris You thought fernando was tom cruise 😅
= username TOM CRUISE 🤣
carlossainz55 It was a great night though
= estebanocon You can say that again!!
yourusername posted a story
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redbullracing
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Summer break done and our favourites are back!!
Liked by christianhorner and 35,826 others
username So excited! They are my favourite trio!!
username She's Barbie and they're just ken
username Oh how I miss these guys ☺️
danielricciardo We're back baby
= yourusername Watch out everyone this season will be our season!!
= maxverstappen1 Always is!
yourusername
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One and two for Redbull once again,
Liked by maxverstappen1 and 53,982 others
username Congrates babes!
gerihalliwellhorner Totally deserves it girl, looking forward to the bbq 😘
= yourusername Thank you Mother Spice, can't wait to see you 😆
christianhorner A job well done 👏🏻
username I love the whole redbull family dynamic!
christianhorner
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Had the Redbull family over for a bbq, loved using my new grill 🥩
Liked by yourusername and 32,754 others
yourusername Thank you so much, loved our gossip session Mother Spice 💅
= gerihalliwayhorner Ofc we need to do it more often!
danielricciardo Thank you Horner family, thank you for making sure Y/n didn't get flat out drunk again lol
username The Horner/Redbull family is thriving!!
maxverstappen1 Thank you! Can't wait for the next!
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221bshrlocked · 1 year
Text
shut the door
Pairings: Commander Wolffe x Jedi Fem!Reader
Words: 2538
Warnings: Ahsoka, Fives and Kix being little shits. Reader getting hella submissive real quick. Wolffe going from shy to dominant even quicker. Lots of touching and biting. Implied smut.
Summary: You try to play a prank on Ahsoka, but it backfires...in a good way.
A/N: I don't know what this is to be honest. I just saw this video of a couple where the wife throws cold water over her husband while he was in the shower and then he dragged her into the water, and my mind immediately came to this fic. Also, I still have @cloned-eyes lovely art work engraved in my mind so that's the Wolffe I'm picturing here. Enjoy my lovely clone simps.
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“That’s it, tell me when it’s time to leave.” Ahsoka says as she stands up and walks towards the door connecting your room with the others’. 
“Wait, where are you going? You can’t just leave in the middle of an undercover mission.” You call after her, checking to make sure that Rex and Anakin were still looking out for the target. 
“We’ve been here for days, and I feel unclean. I won’t take too long.” She ignores your response as she grabs a towel and some clothes to change into. 
“You’re going to leave me with those two by myself?” You ask her again, not caring for how both men react to the indirectly offensive question. 
“Hey! What is that supposed to mean?” Anakin calls back, muttering something beneath his breath when he sees Rex laughing at the three of you. You shake your head at Anakin, only to turn around and miss Ahsoka walking to the refresher. Glancing at the rest of the men in your company, you see them shrug their shoulders and get back to whatever conversations they were in the middle of. You think there is a smirk on Fives’ face but it goes away as soon as you notice it. Thinking nothing of the matter, you’re about to walk back to the other room when Fives and Kix call for you. 
“Say General, we heard you and the other Generals like to play pranks on each other all the time. Is that true?” Fives asks and you narrow your eyes at him briefly, wanting to know why he was questioning you about this all of a sudden. 
“Y..yes, why do you ask?” You cross your arms and scan the room, wondering why everyone became quiet and were intently staring at you. 
“Well, we just didn’t peg you for someone who- well, you know.” He rubs his neck and refuses to finish whatever he was about to tell you. 
“What? You think I don’t know how to have fun?”
“We didn’t say that, it’s just-” Kix starts to respond but you shake your head at him, silencing him instantly. You study the rest of the men quickly before smiling at Fives’ sudden anxiety. 
“It’s okay if you think I’m boring. I just don’t see the point of revealing all my cards at once, especially when I know I can have a bit of fun being sneaky.” 
“That sounds nice and everything General, but I just don’t believe you.” Fives takes a step forwards and trails his eyes down your form, smirking to himself when he sees that he has your undivided attention. 
“Is that right?” You raise a curious eyebrow at him, completely missing the way Kix was looking around the room and telling everyone to get ready. 
“I think you’re all bark and no bite.” Fives adds for extra measure, barely managing to hold back from laughing when your expression turns less playful and more dangerous. 
“Hmm, watch and learn boys.” It’s all the warning they get before you’re walking towards the kitchen and filling up a large pitcher of water with ice cold liquid, grabbing a handful of ice cubes from the fridge while chuckling at the shift in expressions suddenly taking over the room. 
“The key for a good prank is, you do it when your target is unsuspecting.” You whisper to them as you make your way to the refresher and unlock the door as softly as you can. The sound of running water fills the silence of the room and you smile one last time at Fives before you take a few steps into the cloudy space. Again, you’re so invested in making no sound that you miss how each of the clones prepares to exchange the figda they managed to steal from the rooms they’ve stayed in. Turning one last time to look at Fives and Kix, you purse your lips and stand on your tiptoes, barely managing to hold back from laughing as you tilt the pitcher and empty its cold contents on Ahsoka. 
Or, the person you thought was Ahsoka. 
“Ahh fucking hells,” the sound of a rather gruff, angry man breaks the silence of the room and you look back in horror as you see Boost and Sinker double over in laughter while Kix and Fives pull Ahsoka from underneath the bed. 
You drop the pitcher from your hand, and as you try to leave the refresher, a hand reaches out from behind the shower curtain and grabs onto your wrist. You look down in shock and fear, already knowing who the man behind the curtain is and trying to think of anything to tell him once he realizes it was you who just ruined whatever little break he was probably attempting to enjoy. 
“Come here,” he growls into the damp air and pulls you towards him, swearing beneath his breath when you topple over and fall at his feet. 
You know you should shut your eyes, perhaps even vomit a string of apologies at him so he doesn’t report you to the council for inappropriate behavior. But the quick movement sends your head flying into the wall and you scream out in pain before you reach for the back of your head while yelling at him to calm down. 
“Calm down Wolffe, I didn’t know it was-” the words die in your throat as soon as you look up and see the Commander of the 104th in all his naked glory. You try not to roam your eyes across his impressive form, you really do, one look at his flushed face and suddenly shy gaze, and you know you have to look anywhere but above his neck. The sound of laughter and howling dies out the longer your eyes move down his body and scrutinize the tattoos etched all over his muscular torso. 
You’re not sure how long you sit there staring at him, but when he clears his throat and pushes his hands over his crotch, you remember quickly where you are and who it is you’re ogling, and you immediately look down and away from him. 
But not before you notice how much he has to stretch his palms and fingers so he can hide himself from your curious gaze. 
“G-general.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that Wolffe was turning a bit more submissive with the way he addressed you reluctantly.
“Commander, I uhhh…I didn’t know you had so many tattoos.” It’s not what you want to say, but it is what leaves your mouth as you try to take off your outer robes so you can hand them to the naked man standing not two feet away from you. 
“Kriff!” He swears at you, taking a few steps back so he doesn’t accidentally frighten you with how his body is reacting to your proximity. 
“Sorry no, I mean- I…I didn’t know you were the one in the refresher.”
“Who the hell did you think was in here?” You’ve known Wolffe for a long time. Granted you never spoke with him as often as others, but you knew him well, like how he tends to become when he’s embarrassed or uncomfortable. 
He doesn’t mean to sound so awkward or rude, but you knew that it was highly unlikely he’s ever experienced something like this, and he probably didn’t know what or how he should be behaving, especially since one of his commanding officers was now in the refresher with him. 
“It d-doesn’t matter any way…I’m so sorry, I wouldn’t have- ah, kriff it. Just take this for now until I decide how I’m going to deal with that shabuir.” You throw your robe at him and force yourself to turn away while he hides behind the wet fabric. 
“Fives or Boost?” He asks as he stops moving, making you turn around to look at him as you answer his question. 
“Ahsoka!” You mutter out in anger, not missing the way he smiles and avoids your gaze when he sees you looking into his eyes again. 
“Well, I hate to break it to you but…whatever it is the General did, I’m sure Five and Boost are in on it as well.” He’s trying to diffuse the tension, that you know for sure, but you still can’t help yourself from studying the tattoos visible to your eyes. You wonder briefly if he’d ever said anything about them before, but you quickly remember who it is you’re thinking about and you shake your head in response. 
“Something on your mind, General?” Wolffe’s tone shifts a little, and when you finally meet his gaze again, you find something strange looking back at you. 
Something way too sensual and intimate to be considered as just friendly. 
“I was just thinking that- umm, I was wondering if you had ever told me about your tattoos and I just forgot or-” You gulp nervously as soon as you notice him tilt his head to the side and stare into your eyes. His jaw clenches tightly and you follow the movement down, watching with fascination as the muscles on his neck and chest flex when they feel you settle on them.
“Hmm,” Wolffe hums lowly as he takes one step towards you, making you back away from him underneath the running water again. 
“Or if…” You can’t find the rest of the thought, unable to focus on anything but the way Wolffe was pretty much eye-fucking you now. 
“Or what…General?” The honorific rolls off his tongue so lewdly, making you nearly trip over the rest of your robes and topple over again. 
You feel a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist in an instant, preventing you from hitting your head again. Grabbing onto Wolffe’s shoulders, you blink hazily a few times before you slowly look up into the Commander’s eyes. He’s abandoned the cloak you gave you, leaving himself completely bear to your hungry needs. 
You’re about to ask him if he is just toying with you like the others when you hear a couple of them whisper just from outside the door. Wolffe glances to the side and narrows his eyes at the men behind the curtain. When he turns back around to look at you again, he finds you completely enraptured by him. He smiles down at you, nudging your nose with his own before laying the softest of kisses near the corner of your mouth. 
“Why don’t you be a good girl for me and shut the door, mesh’la?” 
His question doesn’t make much sense to your dazed mind, and you reach up to try and properly kiss him, but he averts his face and leans down to bite into your throat, chuckling to himself when your breath hitch and you dig your nails into his shoulders. 
“As much as I’d love to give the boys something to talk about, I am a selfish man baby…and I want you all to myself.” He whispers against you as he begins to unravel all the knots keeping your body from him.
“Be a good girl, and shut the door…or do you want them to watch me fuck you hard like the sweet Jetii’ika I know you are?” Your knees give out as soon as he growls those filthy words in your ears, but Wolffe’s hold on you prevents you from falling yet again. You want to punch him for being so smug and chuckling at you, but you know that you wouldn’t have him any other way. The way he squeezes your hips lights a fire in your chest, and your breathing grows erratic as soon as he slides one hand around your back and pushes your body into his own, giving you a taste of what’s to come.
“W-Wolffe, please.” You plead with a whine, parting your lips for him as he leans down and hovers his mouth over your own.
“Shut the door, cyar’ika…and I promise you I’ll deal with them later.” Not a second later, the door to the refresher slides shut suddenly, making half of the men outside scream rather embarrassingly. You giggle along with Wolffe, but the laughter dies when you notice the way he's staring at you.
Licking your lips, you throw your arms around his neck and pull yourself up until you’re at eye-level with him.
“What if…what if I want something else?” You ask right before molding your lips with his own in a heated kiss. You feel Wolffe harden against you, his fingers trying to unfasten your robes from your body while the other hand combs into your hair and tugs on it harshly.
“Hmm, maybe you’re not a good girl after all.” Wolffe teases as he pushes your cloak and shirt down your shoulders, ripping the corners of them as he tries to get them off quickly.
“Believe me Commander, I can be whatever you want me to be…on one condition.” You giggle when he kneels down and grumbles in irritation at how difficult it is to remove the wet fabrics from your body. He ignores you until he’s rid you of what you’re wearing, the only thing shielding you from his eyes clinging deliciously around your hips.
“Name it sweetheart.” Wolffe promises, refusing to keep his hands off of you as he stands to his height and trails his hands across your nude skin.
“I want your cock, I want you to fuck me so hard till I can’t remember anything but your name.” Wolffe stands there without uttering a single sound, studying you closely to make sure you are confident in what you want from him. He can feel you scratch along the tattoos over his arms and chest, and he reminds himself to ask you later which one you liked most. He roams his gaze across your features, pretending to go for another kiss and twisting you in his arms as soon as you shut your eyes in surrender.
He shoves you against the cold wall, holding your arms above your head and thrusting his hard cock in between your ass cheeks when you try to wrestle away from his hold. You try to glance to the side but Wolffe sinks his teeth into the back of your shoulder, causing you to cry out in ecstasy and pain from the sensation.
“Ah fuck, p-please Wolffe.” He’s all hard muscles and heated skin against your back, making you wish you weren’t currently on a mission so you can worship him like he deserves. 
“That’s it mesh’la, beg for me.” You think he’ll toy with you longer, the thought making you whine and moan more for him more, hoping that the sounds you’re making are enough for him to end your misery and fuck you into oblivion.
But then he grabs his cock and slips it underneath the band of your panties, and you hold your breath in anticipation, preparing yourself for how full you will feel when he finally shoves his dick into your heat and fills you to the brim. 
“C-Commander, please…use me.”
It’s all Wolffe needs to hear to step over the invisible line that’s long separated the two of you from giving into your desires. 
“Sir yes sir.” 
279 notes · View notes
moodymisty · 2 years
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♔ Queen of the Wolfpack ♔
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Author's Note: I hope y'all are ready for my 'getting fucked like a whore in an alley' arc
Summary: After a drink or two you'd just thought it would be fun to see how long it would take for him to catch you; But it turns out when you tease a wolf, you get his teeth.
Relationships: Wolffe/Fem!Reader
Warnings: NSFW, Possessive!Wolffe, Predator/prey kink, Gratuitous overuse of the petname 'lamb', Light dirty talk, Hair pulling, Rough sex, Armor/helmet kink, Fingering, Very light choking kink, Semi-public sex, Alleyway sex, Clothed sex, Unprotected sex,
Words: 5161
Ao3 Link
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79's was packed.
Even more so than usual it seemed, as there was tons of unfamiliar tattoos and armor patterns decorating the near overflowing crowd. Though you weren't exactly a frequent comer; Bars this packed had never really been much of your style. It didn't help that you seemed to be early as there wasn't a set of grey painted armor in sight, as you took a look around. Pushing through a sea of bodies and eventually making it to the bar, you take the one empty bar stool and decide to order yourself something light.
Considering how packed the bar was you were surprised how fast you managed to get your drink, cupping it with both hands as you look around the main floor. Still none of the grey painted clone armor you've been looking for, sighing and taking a sip of your drink. Just as your lips wrap around the edge of the glass to take a sip is when your eyes glance to the right, seeing some movement that caught the corner of your eye.
The clone directly beside you looks far more than a little bit tipsy and seems rearing up to lean over and talk to you, but his more sober drinking partner pulls on his forearm before he had a chance to do so. It makes him go off balance and almost topple off the bar stool into the other clone, before they both right themselves. You take another sip of your drink and look away, trying to listen over the deafening noises but not seem like you could hear them.
"Don't even try it. That's a terrible kriffing idea."
The drunker soldier gestures to the bartending droid for more, before turning to his companion and asking why he seemed so against his idea.
"I've seen her around the base; She's with the Wolfpack. You got zero chance with those loth-wolves lurking around her, buddy. Find another lady."
Sitting your glass down, it almost gets toppled over when you suddenly yelp, feeling a hand firmly clap your shoulder. You turn around just as you hear the more sober clone tell his friend:
"See? Told you so."
The bar stool squeaks and struggles to turn with you on it, looking to see Wolffe right behind you. As well as Comet and Boost; So surely Sinker wasn't far away.
"Hey!" You shout over the music, looking up to see Wolffe taking off his helmet. He gestures with a jerk of his head to the second floor, though it only spans half of the bar.
"Come follow us. We got the table on the balcony." Nodding and slipping off the bar stool you follow, Wolffe's hand against your left shoulder blade. He guides you towards the back of the bar where the stairs are and you all go up them, sitting in a booth towards the edge of the second floor. You can look down over the side to the first floor when you slip into the innermost side of the seat and adjust the skirt of your dress, trapped in by Wolffe on your right side. Sinker sits across from you, while Comet and Boost are across from Wolffe. They all have their helmets off and on the table, close at hand. Sinker is the one to speak up first, already having flagged down someone for drinks.
"Lucky seeing you here; Thought you weren't to keen on busy bars?" You all order drinks before you look back at Sinker and answer.
"Wolffe asked me out here, since he was on shore leave and we don’t get much time together that isn’t on holocall." That gets the other men's attention, turning to speak to their commander while you take a sip of the drink just now put in front of you.
"You thought a good date would be to take her with your men to a bar packed with a bunch of other clones?" Sinker looks amused, glancing between you and Wolffe.
"I don't mind," You speak up, smiling. That doesn't seem to persuade Wolffe's men, who are all looking at their commander as if he’s just suddenly grown a second head. Even for as sheltered as the clones are, even they have an idea that this isn’t a common date idea.
"I mean, I'd rather be in a packed bar with you guys than all alone," Sinker lets out a loud laugh, bumping the table as Comet speaks. He's smiling while pointing at you for a second.
"Commander, with all due respect; If you don’t m-" Wolffe cuts him off.
"If you have respect, you won't finish what I think you're going to say."
Comet closes his mouth, but he still seems amused. Instead he changes the subject only slightly, looking down at the bar where they'd found you. The bar stool you'd been on has since been filled; Whole area stuffed to the gills.
"Any of the shinies try and make a pass at you?" Comet is already two glasses down down the hatch, and is trying to flag down a third. You shake your head and lean slightly into Wolffe; Looking up and noticing that he seems quite keen on hearing your answer.
"No, but one almost did though. The one that was next to me when you all got here." Comet manages to get his third drink, but is too interested in what you’re saying to instantly chug it down.
"He was hyping himself up but his buddy stopped him before he had the chance. Said he shouldn't bother since he knew I was with you guys." Wolffe lets out an amused scoff.
"A smart one. Saved his brother’s tail."
You playfully shove your shoulder against him harder, still staying close. He'd since laid his arm over the seat to wrap around your shoulders, head leaning on his bicep. He's still in his full armor, the man rarely takes it off, so it's firm and unbending against you.
"You know," Comet is too many drinks down to realize any better, and leans across the table as if to tell you a secret. "The other clones have a nickname for you on the base."
Your brow furrows, feeling Wolffe's hand tighten against your shoulder. How'd you get enough of a reputation to have a nickname? Sure you do some work around the base, it was how you met Wolffe, but you didn’t think you’d made that much of an impact.
But then again; Whenever you were around, you were always flanked by 104th troopers.
"It's 'Queen of the Wolfpack'. Heard the shinies passing it around."
Your first drink is finally down and there's soon another within your grasp, while you scoff and almost laugh.
"Is it common for clones to everyone mysterious nicknames? Or am I just that special?" Leaning back against the seat Boost seems content to nurse his drink, compared to how Comet was handling things.
"I think you’re just special. And consider it a blessing; It’s made the shinies too nervous to even talk to you because they think Wolffe will end up hunting them down." Boost said. Looking to the right you notice Wolffe grabbing hold of his helmet, holding it in his right hand.
"Well, I’ll be expecting a crown then in the near future then, to finalize my title." Comet lets out a belly laugh, before he manages to quickly cut it off. Sinker shakes his head and finally decides to say what they've all been thinking, and seemingly Wolffe was as well.
"Go take your girl somewhere nicer that this, Commander. We don't get shore leave often."
Despite letting out a noise of disappointment you follow Wolffe when he pulls himself out of the booth, making sure to take a final swig of his drink. You follow close behind, down the steps and through the crowd of bodies out of the bar and into the street. There's people crowded around outside-mostly clones-either waiting to get in or waiting for taxis so they can leave. You notice the way most pedestrians avoid the area with a good berth, along with most of the area that was populated predominantly with clones.
Wolffe leans down to talk in your ear over the sound of booming music and loud voices, an arm now around your shoulder and gently tugging you close.
"Where do you want to go? We have the whole night now." Looking up at him his face is quite close; You can see the fraying of the scar over his bad eye and the stubble forming on his jaw.
"You choose. You're the one who's got a limited time on planet." His voice picks up volume again, a large crowd of rowdy people walking close by. It’s almost as loud out here as it was inside the bar, you notice as Wolffe speaks in your ear.
"You're the one who knows your way around Coruscant." Fair. Turning to start walking down the crowded sidewalk there’s plenty of people outside; Many of them clones happy to have a moment of free time.
Wolffe’s arm is still around your shoulders as you move down the street and far away from 79’s, now dedicated to having a night to just yourselves. It’s nice, even if the streets are lively to say the least; Filled to the brim with chatter and movement.
Especially when someone bursts by in a full sprint a small ways to your left, wearing mismatched clothing as they shove people aside to push through. You think they’re holding something but it’s hard to tell, especially when it all happens so fast. Barely seconds after they pass two guards are right on their tail, and manage to catch up to the -judging by what they were saying thief, in record time. It makes you wonder something as you watch the clones easily haul the person to their feet like it’s nothing.
You would assume Wolffe was that fast too, but you’d never really seen him in action in the way you often saw the Coruscant guard.
And honestly; You’ve always really, really wanted to.
Wolffe when he dons his full armor is already ceaselessly erotic, but the thought of seeing him move like that, act like that; Really get into the namesake that-
“You’re staring.”
Wolffe’s voice suddenly pops your bubble, realizing you’ve both stopped walking and he’s looking down at you. He glances up towards where the guards are cuffing the thief and hauling him away, before looking back at you.
“Oh, sorry. I got distracted.” He hums, and watches as you look over again to see the guards have left.
“Sometimes I forget all of you are really that strong…” Referring to the clones, Wolffe actually lets out a chuckle.
“You’d be surprised.”
Maybe you would; But it would be a wonderful surprise none the less.
“Would I?” The way Wolffe looks at you almost makes your heart stop, and even if he isn’t thinking the same things you are, he’s clearly thinking about something. You wouldn’t mind being the subject to whatever it is. You can’t stop the way your voice gets a little quieter however, as you speak up.
“Do you want to try to?”
Wolfe looks down at you with his eyebrows raised, as you pull away from the arm around your shoulders to look him head on.
“Seeing if you can catch me. Like they did.” It perks his interest, watching your eyes dart over his face. He steps closer and your chest is almost touching his when he speaks, audible even over the bustle around you.
“And what do I get when I do?” Your face squishes.
“When? Awfully presumptuous.” Wolffe seems amused by you, even as you attempt to scold him. He’s always been confident in his abilities, and it’s yet another thing that makes him so attractive. You remember the first time you’d seen him the way he wore his armor like a second skin, and how he’s always had that commander aura about him.
“You best be going then if you want to have a shot, lamb.”
You look at him with a smile possibly too giddy for what you’re doing, before quickly stepping away from him. Bolting into the crowd you throw a glance over your shoulder at him to see Wolffe putting his helmet on, wiggling it into proper place before you’re fully immersed in the sea of people and out of direct sight of him.
Wolffe is the best at what he does you know that for sure, but maybe it’s a bit of cockiness; You can’t help but think he’s not going to be able to catch you in a crowd this thick. The streets are always packed, but for some reason today it seems particularly bad, people almost shoulder to shoulder in some areas. Maybe there’s some sort of festival or party going on, but you don’t particularly care.
Casting a glance over your should you don’t see him, nor do you see any grey clone armor decorating the crowd. But the idea still sends a bit of a jolt down your spine; Knowing he’s still around here somewhere, looking for your silhouette in-between hundreds of strangers.
It’s kind of fucking hot, honestly.
But for the sake of your pride, you want to make damn sure he doesn’t catch you.
The smell of street food and the hot steam it creates wafts in your face as you run past stands and other little shops, trying to find your way. There’s got to be somewhere safe you can hide for a bit, at least until it’s been long enough that you can proudly declare yourself the winner of the silly game you’ve set up.
There’s a few people who give you a strange look as you rush by, but all in all most are used to this kind of chaos happening down here, and don’t pay you much mind unless you skirt extremely close. Then they’re probably more worried about what’s on your tail, than you yourself.
Rightfully so, as it was doubtful that many other people than yourself would want a clone commander like Wolffe hot on their tail, hunting them down.
You however are an obvious exception; As the feeling makes your heart beat in your chest, body feeling like it’s on fire as your cunt throbs.
You throw another glance over your shoulder to check, instantly spotting familiar grey painted armor pushing through the crowd. It puts a fire beneath your feet, accidentally almost shoving someone over as you move past. They might’ve yelled something at you if you’d cared enough to listen for it, but you’re already too far ahead.
You turn a corner and check again, not seeing him. He hadn’t even been running much to your surprise, though he still managed to gain on you incredibly fast. It seemed you’d need a bit quicker of a plan if you wanted to make sure you came out of this the victor.
Between a group of Twi’lek vendors you spot the entrance to a relatively wide alleyway, so you figure it’s your best bet to lose him. Bolting down it and trying to keep your head low you glance back and don’t see Wolffe, so you keep going taking two left turns before you’re suddenly cut short by a dead end.
There’s a few crates here stacked right in front of the fence, and it’s almost the perfect height for you to get over it with. You’re not sure whats on the other side other than more of the alleyway, but surely there’s somewhere to keep going. Long ago you lost your bearings on what was familiar, now just running around blind.
Climbing up onto the crates and grasping the fence you’re just about to place a foot on it and start climbing when suddenly there's a tight grip on your ankle, pulling you down and away. Looking back you see Wolffe’s white armor as he yanks your leg, him gaining ground as you attempt to pull away. Putting one foot on the crate he manages to lean forward enough that he grips your wrist with a hand, squeezing enough that he forces you to let go of the fence. He wrestles you around with ease until you’re standing back on solid ground again, your wrist still in his hand. He barely has time to speak before you do, faking being a sore loser.
“I lasted far longer than that other person, considering I barely even got a head start.” You figured saying something so cocky would get him to react; And it does, listening to the way his tone is sharp and scolding.
“I decided to stop letting you play around. Coming down here was a mistake, you ended up boxing yourself in.”
It takes one good push by him and you fall forward onto one of the storage boxes, legs almost dangling as you try to kick and move to free yourself. Wolffe is having none of it, and keeps you firm in place adjusting his grip and keeping one of your arms pinned down.
When you feel his hips press against the backs of your thighs it makes you completely freeze, eyes wide and looking forward in surprise. If you turn around you can see part of him, but his helmet makes it impossible to see his expression. His voice however fills in the gaps on what he’s thinking about, as if it wasn’t obvious now already.
“And what should the wolf do, now that he’s caught his little lamb?”
Instead of responding to him you attempt to wiggle off the crate to the side and get fully on your feet, but before you can, Wolffe easily shifts you back removing all your progress.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
The sentence sends a jolt down your spine, as you feel the hard material of his codpiece press against your groin. Wolffe knows exactly what he’s doing, his other hand grasping the bottom hem of your dress and yanking it upward, high enough that your entire ass and some of your back is exposed. The sudden cold air makes you almost yelp, if not for you trying to cut it off.
“I told you when I found you, and now I get to take my prize.”
You can still hear the rumbling of huge crowds not to far away, even in the dark corner of the alley.
But Wolffe knows, he just doesn’t care; Ignoring the risk of getting seen as he grips the top of your underwear like they’re nothing at all.
“Shit! Wolffe, be careful!” They don’t rip thankfully, but he yanks them down hard enough that you would’ve swore they had, now laying around your knees. It’s too hard to suppress the moan you let out as now his codpiece presses against your cunt with nothing in the way, thighs pressing together. He’s well past wanting to be careful now, listening to you gasp. Rubbing his armor against you he can feel the way it gets slick, the way your ass tenses at the feeling of the cold plastoid material against you. He can already see the way you’ve left it slick, coated with how aroused you already are.
“You’re going to stain my armor if you get any wetter.”
But he still presses harder against you, feeling the way you push back. He doesn’t give you much time to respond back at all, provided you even would’ve to begin with, as a gloved hand slips between both of you to rub against your cunt. The glove is soaked in moments, and Wolffe pulls away only to bit the tip of it with his hand and pull it off, before stuffing it in one one of his pockets.
Once he finishes doing so almost instantly his fingers press between your folds and slip inside of you, rough and buried deep past the knuckle before you have a chance to finish letting out a gasp.
Wolffe is often a little rough, not that you mind, but this time he seems like he wants you to scream out; To scream for him now that he’s caught you.
Scissoring inside of you his fingers stretch you and press against every bundle of nerves, the lewd sounds audible even over the general chaos of the city. He only dares to slow down when he needs to pull off the only impeding piece of armor; His codpiece falling off in seconds. He can feel that just the sound of him doing so makes your cunt tighten around his fingers. Wolffe loves it; The way you’re already wanting for his cock and he hasn’t even got it out yet.
But he’s not going to just give you what he knows you want now, pulling his fingers away and pressing his still covered cock against you. It’s just enough of a tease that your body tenses at the anticipation of what’s coming, waiting for the feeling of his body glove’s fabric getting peeled away.
And it does, though as he presses his now exposed cock against you he doesn’t slip inside of you, even if his hard cock twitches with the anticipation of it. When you attempt to wiggle backwards and press your ass harder against him he still doesn’t give in, and instead attempts to fix your illusion that you had sway in the matter by giving you one hard smack to your ass. It makes you yelp, the sting ringing for seconds after.
“Beg for it.”
You may not speak up instantly, but the way he just teases you; Barely pressing the tip of his cock inside of you before pulling it out, ends up making you give in.
“A-ah! Wolffe, please fuck me...” He waits a moment, still grinding against your cunt as he listens to the way you whine for him, no longer caring about trying to win the silly game you’d set up. Wolffe pushes the hem of your dress up even higher to wrap his hands around your waist, pulling you onto his cock and listening to the your skin slaps against his armor as he buries to the hilt. It’s so fast it makes your toes curl in your shoes, thighs tightening.
“Wolffe!”
The feeling has your teeth almost gritting as his hands hold tight around your waist, using it to pull you towards him and meet his hips. It’s hypnotic; Along with the way you’re moaning his name and wriggling in his grip, even more so when he uses one hand to grasp your ass and knead it roughly. He can spread you and watch the way his cock slides in and out of you, coated with your juices so much so the tops of your inner thighs are also slick.
“Love the way your ass bounces on my cock, little lamb.”
Wolffe can feel the way his hot breath gets trapped partly in his helmet, flush against his skin as he thrusts deeper and deeper into you. The small part of his body glove that’s exposed now is more than likely at least slightly stained with drips from your leaking cunt, as he feels the way your muscles tighten around him.
Your body shakes and your clothes twist and turn around you, knees still trapped together by your panties. The shoddy storage container underneath you creaks and skids forward banging against the fence it’s in front of enough that the metal shakes, each brutal thrust of his hips cutting off your moans.
“Was this your goal the whole time? To get me to throw you around and fuck you senseless?”
You’re going to be more than sore after this with the way he’s treating you; No matter how delicious it feels you know his hands are leaving scratches and bruises on your skin.
You’d honestly be lucky if you were able to sit down tomorrow.
“Fuck, Wolffe; I, I just wanted to see how fast you really were.”
Leaning down his chest is almost pressed against your back now as he suddenly grips the side of your throat, cutting you off. It’s not enough to make you choke, but hard enough that your words catch in your throat and your face feels even hotter.
Wolffe grinds down against you, feeling each little movement your body makes. It makes your stomach tighten and jump in knots, thighs desperately pressing together. You feel like you’re about to pop, so close as his helmet bumps the side of your face.
“Then you shouldn’t have ran around in this tiny little skirt you got in my battalion's colors. It’s like you were just begging to be eaten up, my little wolf queen.”
You don’t admit it, but you he’s right. You did want him to catch you, more than anything.
You can’t cover up the loud moan that you let out as you cum around him, muscles spasming as he barely slows down, and continues to fuck you through it all. It’s almost too much; Feeling his cock hit the most sensitive spots inside of you as he drills you almost into the crate itself.
Grasping the edge your feet can barely touch the ground, shoes scraping for any kind of purchase. But even after you’ve came and are panting heart beating in your chest Wolffe keeps going; Holding your hips with a vice grip.
He’s quite clearly not done with you, if his still brutal pace has anything to go by.
“W-Wolffe, holy-”
His hands pulling your hips to his so roughly it cuts you off, Wolffe pants so hotly in his helmet it almost begins to fog. It’s hot and stuffy, his whole body feeling like fire underneath his armor.
It only gets hotter as he hears the little squeals you let out, rendered a mess. You’re almost overstimulated and sore and about to cum again as he chases his own, throwing his helmet off.
Even with your hand partly over your mouth you can’t exactly contain the way he manages to pull some of the loudest moans out of you. A fistful of your hair in his hand he grips it tight, listening to you gasp and tilt your head to relieve some of the tension. By doing so it exposes a good part of your neck for him, and he can easily lean close to it.
“You want my teeth on you?” He knows the answer, be he still relishes in hearing it anyways.
“Yes yes yes, Wolffe please-” You feel his lips against the crook of your neck, before they part and he presses his teeth into your skin. It’s not enough to make you bleed, but he’s surely leaving marks as you cry out. You love the way it feels, and he loves the away it leaves such an obvious mark on your skin you always have to try and cover. Sometimes you don’t, and it never fails to make him hard when he realizes.
The front of your dress scrapes against the crate and surely is getting wrinkled and stained, while Wolffe’s armor scrapes against the backs of your thighs. Pulling your body close to him with an uneven pace you can hear him groan while he bites part of your shoulder, shortly before his body presses hard against yours. Finishing inside you it almost feels like his hands are going to leave bruises on you, the way he’s gripping so hard. It probably wasn’t even that strong to him, given his significant strength. He fills you to the brim, listening to him groan.
With your body tired and used there isn’t much you can do but whine, feeling cum drip down between your thighs as he slowly pulls himself from you. His hands stay hovering just around your hips, unbeknownst to you as he admires your state. The skirt of your dress falls back down moments later once you try and slide off the crate and fully standing, giving you at least some sense of a put together look.
Though anybody wouldn’t have to look very hard at your face and the way your were walking to guess what had happened anyways.
“I, I think maybe we should just head back to my apartment instead of going anywhere else.”
Your legs felt like they could barely hold yourself up at first, but even when you managed to get some movement back, it still felt like you were walking through a swamp with how hard it was to get them to listen.
Wolffe seems pleased by what he’s done to you, and even more pleased by the notion you’d accidentally implied in going back home. He grabs his helmet that he’d thrown aside in the fit of the moment and holds it in the crook of his elbow, watching you intently.
“Lead the way then, little lamb.”
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Its the next day when you’re back on the clone base with the 104th, and Sinker finally manages to find a moment between important conversations to speak up. You’re all crowded around a holotable you’re trying to get working, before another troop of clones arrives to get briefed with the 104st. Given there’s no one in the room that will reprimand them apart from Wolffe, the room is much more casual than it will be soon.
“How’d it go after you guys left?” Referring to the ‘date’ that Wolffe was supposed to take you on after leaving 79’s. The sudden question certainly makes you jump, especially considering you were still sore from the throttling Wolffe had given you last night.
“Ok, we had a good time. Ate some street food.” The way you say it with a slightly shaky and almost nervous voice makes the other Wolfpack boys a little confused, but they don’t exactly have enough details to comment.
“You didn’t haul her off to another bar and get trashed, did you sir?” Comet attempts to use proper titles but still has that teasing tone, even through his helmet.
Before Wolffe responds to him he catches you looking at him -more like glaring- trying to beg him not to say anything embarrassing.
“Cut it out, Comet.” You let out a small sigh of relief. Boost elbows Comet in the ribs, laughing.
“Yeah, no trash talk in front of the Queen.” You groan, but can’t help the small smile.
“So that’s sticking now?” As the other three joke with each other you take a look at Wolffe, who was looking down at you.
Looking down on you like a piece of meat, that is.
You quickly turn away, and decide to make busy with something on the holotable while trying to forget the way he was still clearly staring. When his hand brushes against your neck you realize what he’s staring at, and you quickly move to adjust your top before anyone else notices.
This was going to be a rough day, that’s for sure.
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clonesuperiority · 1 month
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I really only wanted to show my Clone OC's Tattoos, buuut who was ever hurt by shirtless Wolffe, Rex, Cody and Jesse? 👀
I'd kind of love to draw some fanarts of canon Clones ... Which ones would you like to see?
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pucksandpower · 13 days
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MILF
Toto Wolff x wife!Reader
Summary: Toto knows his wife is a MILF … but this doesn’t mean he is okay with his son’s friends calling you that
Warnings: teenage boys doing teenage boy things
Based on this request
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“Pass the schnitzel, darling,” you say to your husband as the three of you sit down for dinner. Your teenage son has just gotten home from school, and you can’t wait to hear about his day.
Toto smiles at you as he passes the platter of breaded veal. “How was school?” He asks.
Lukas shrugs as he takes a bite. “It was okay,” he mumbles through a mouthful of food.
You give him a look. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, sweetie,” you gently chide. Even though he’s almost an adult now, you still see your little boy in him.
Lukas swallows and straightens up. “Sorry, Mum.”
“So tell us about your day,” you prompt. “Learn anything new and interesting?”
Your son fidgets in his seat. “Well … some of the guys were talking about you today.”
You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Me? What about me?”
Lukas glances uncomfortably at his father. “Just … stuff they saw online. Paparazzi photos from when we were on the yacht last month.”
Toto sets his fork down, his expression darkening. He’s no stranger to being in the public eye, but he’s always been protective of you and Lukas. “What exactly were they saying?” He asks in a carefully neutral tone.
“They, uh …” Lukas rubs the back of his neck. “They called Mom a MILF.”
“A what?” Toto sputters, while you have to suppress a laugh. You’re familiar with the crude term, given your substantially younger age compared to your husband.
“It’s not funny!” Toto says indignantly. “I won’t have people objectifying my wife like that.”
You reach over and pat his arm. “It’s okay, dear. I’m not bothered by it.” You turn back to Lukas with an amused smile. “I’m flattered those boys think your old mom’s still got it.”
“You’re not old!” Lukas protests loyally. “It’s just, you know, you’re a lot younger than Vati, and you’re really pretty, so the guys notice.”
Toto scowls, but you grin and blow your son a kiss. “Thanks, sweetie.” Your playful reaction seems to visibly relax him.
“This is unacceptable,” Toto shakes his head. “I should call the school. Get those little punks suspended for sexual harassment.”
“Oh Toto, don’t be silly,” you wave dismissively. “They’re just teenage boys. I’m sure they didn’t mean any harm.”
“It doesn’t matter!” He insists. “Your dignity and privacy should be respected, not exploited. People think because we’re in the spotlight that they can say whatever vulgar nonsense they want.”
You reach over again and lace your fingers through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I know it bothers you, darling. But I married you knowing full well how public our lives would be. A little crude gossip comes with the territory.”
Toto opens his mouth to retort, then pauses, some of the indignation leaving his eyes. “I just don’t want anyone disrespecting you,” he says finally.
You smile softly. Even after all these years of marriage, your heart still flutters at his protectiveness. “I know. It’s one of the many things I love about you.”
Lukas makes a face. “Ugh, gross. Can you guys not be all mushy right now?”
You laugh and blow him another kiss. “Sorry Lukas. I can’t help it — your father’s the love of my life.”
Toto smiles back at you, the anger fading from his face. “And you’re mine, schatzi.”
Your son pretends to gag. “Seriously, stop. I’m trying to eat here.”
You chuckle and spear another bite of schnitzel. “Alright, we’ll behave. Now, tell me more about the rest of your day ...”
The conversation moves on to lighter topics as you finish up dinner. You listen attentively while Lukas fills you in on the drama with his friend group and his struggles in history class.
After clearing the dishes, the three of you move to the living room. You curl up next to Toto on the couch while Lukas sprawls out on the carpet to play video games.
You close your eyes contentedly and rest your head on your husband’s shoulder. Despite the lifestyle that being married to Toto provides you with, this right here is your happy place — your little family, spending a quiet evening at home.
Toto wraps an arm around you and presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Have I told you lately how lucky I am?” He murmurs.
You smile up at him. “Even after all these years, you still give me butterflies.”
“Good,” he says firmly. “I’ll tell you every day if I have to, until you’re sick of hearing it.”
Lukas groans loudly from the floor. “Could you guys be any more embarrassing?”
You and Toto both laugh. “What? I can’t tell my beautiful wife how much I love her?” He calls out in protest.
“Not when I’m right here!” Lukas complains. “Get a room or something.”
You grin mischievously. “That’s not a bad idea ...” you say, running a hand up your husband’s chest.
Toto’s eyes darken. “Minx,” he murmurs.
Lukas scrambles to his feet. “Okay, I’m out of here.” He gives you both a look of exaggerated disgust as he heads upstairs.
You and Toto chuckle as you listen to his bedroom door slam shut.
“Now, where were we?” Toto says in a low voice, pulling you closer. You bite your lip coyly as he presses his mouth to yours. No matter how many years go by, the chemistry between you is still electric.
You shift against him eagerly as the kiss deepens. His hands slide down to grip your hips, and you make a soft noise of pleasure. After nearly two decades of marriage, he knows exactly how to touch you.
“Tell me again,” you whisper when you finally break apart, slightly breathless.
Toto gazes into your eyes. “I love you,” he says sincerely. “I will always love you. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
You kiss him again, tenderly this time. “I love you too, Toto. Forever.”
No matter what people say or how famous you become, your relationship has always been grounded in this — the unwavering love between you. The rest of the world falls away when you’re together.
You rest your head contentedly on his shoulder again, his arms wrapped around you. This right here, next to the man who still looks at you like you hung the moon, is home.
***
The next day after school, Lukas comes home with a few of his friends in tow. You’re just finishing up putting away the groceries when you hear the chatter of teenage voices approaching.
“Hey Mum, we’re gonna hang out downstairs,” Lukas calls out as the group of boys raids the kitchen fridge for snacks.
You smile and give them a little wave. “Hi boys. There’s more drinks in the pantry if you need it.”
The teenagers rumble acknowledgements through mouthfuls of food before thundering downstairs to your home theater room. You chuckle and shake your head. Teenage appetites are truly a phenomenon.
You’re straightening up the living room when you hear the front door open again, signaling Toto’s return from work.
“Hello, liebling,” he greets you warmly, sweeping you into an embrace.
You kiss him in welcome. “How was work today?”
“The usual madness,” he sighs. “But coming home to you makes it all worthwhile.”
You smile up at him adoringly. Even after all these years, your heart still flutters at his smooth compliments.
“Oh, Lukas has some friends over,” you mention. “They’re downstairs watching movies or playing video games.”
Toto frowns a little. “Those wouldn’t happen to be the same friends who were objectifying you?”
You pat his chest placatingly. “Now dear, we talked about this. Don’t make a fuss.”
“Hmph.” He still looks slightly disgruntled. “Well, I should at least go down and say hello.”
You follow him downstairs, where the group of teenage boys are sprawled out on the sofas engrossed in some action movie. Explosions boom from the surround sound system as CGI buildings crumble onscreen.
They look up when you and Toto enter. “Oh hey Mr. Wolff,” one of them says.
“Vati, you remember my friends right?” Lukas introduces. “Jason, Andrew, Ryan, and David.”
“Ah yes, nice to see you boys again,” Toto says smoothly.
Too smoothly.
You can sense the storm brewing beneath his polite façade.
Sure enough, as the teens’ attention returns to the movie, Toto clears his throat. “So I heard you boys were discussing my wife the other day.”
The room goes silent, save for the cinematic explosions still blaring through the speakers. The boys glance around uneasily.
“Um, we didn’t mean anything bad by it,” David finally offers timidly.
Toto raises an eyebrow. “Oh? So objectifying and sexualizing a married woman is not meant to be disrespectful?”
The teens squirm under his icy stare. You put a warning hand on your husband’s arm, but he continues.
“Let me tell you something about my wife,” he says, an edge creeping into his tone. “She is an elegant, successful, and highly intelligent woman. Not some piece of meat for you ogling schoolboys to drool over.”
The chastised boys all mumble apologies and stare fixedly at the floor.
Toto points a stern finger at them. “I trust there will be no further vulgar comments, or you won’t be welcome in this house again.”
“Yes sir,” they mutter. Lukas looks like he wants the leather couch to swallow him whole. You have to stifle a smile at your husband’s overprotective papa bear routine.
“Good. I’m glad we understand each other.” Toto straightens his suit jacket. “Now you boys enjoy your … movie.”
He turns and heads back upstairs, with you following after an apologetic smile to the shell-shocked teens.
Once you’re out of earshot, you swat his shoulder reproachfully. “Toto! Did you really need to traumatize the poor kids?”
“I didn’t traumatize them,” he huffs. “I just … explained a few things.” At your skeptical look, he amends “ … Firmly.”
You shake your head in exasperation. “You’re impossible. I thought I asked you not to make a fuss.”
He takes your hands earnestly. “I’m sorry, schatzi. I just can’t stand anyone disrespecting you. You deserve to be treated like a queen.”
You soften at the sincerity in his eyes. “Oh Toto. You’re too good to me.” You wrap your arms around him in a conciliatory hug.
He holds you close. “Nonsense. I’ll spend every day proving you’re the most important thing in the world to me.”
You snuggle against his chest, reminded yet again how lucky you are. Even when he overreacts, you know it comes from a place of devotion.
“Just promise me you’ll go easy on the boys,” you say wryly as you pull back. “I think you scared them straight for life.”
Toto smiles ruefully. “I suppose I did get a bit … intense. But the message won’t do any harm.”
You laugh and kiss his cheek. “My noble protector.”
He grins. “Proudly.”
Later, as the boys are getting ready to leave, Toto stops them at the front door.
“Before you go, I have one more thing to say,” he announces. The teens glance at each other nervously.
Toto looks each of them in the eye. “If I ever hear of you disrespecting my wife again, I won’t be so kind. You see, she’s actually a MIDF … Mother I Do Fuck.” He enunciates the words pointedly.
The teens’ eyes widen in horror, and Lukas turns bright red. “Vati!” He hisses in embarrassment.
Toto ignores him. “So I would appreciate it if you kept your crude comments to yourselves next time.” He gives them a tight smile. “Are we clear?”
The boys nod rapidly. “Yes sir. Crystal clear, Mr. Wolff,” one mumbles.
“Good.” Toto claps his hands together. “Then get home safely.”
After the front door shuts behind the fleeing teens, Lukas rounds on his father. “Oh my god, Vati! Why would you say that?”
He shrugs unapologetically. “I wanted to make sure they got the message loud and clear this time.”
Lukas just shakes his head in mortification before stomping upstairs.
You slide your arms around your unrepentant husband. “You just couldn’t resist, could you?”
“They left with a healthy dose of fear and respect,” Toto says smugly. “I think my work here is done.”
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lucyrose191 · 3 months
Note
Hey could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife reader where she's been feeling unwell but insists she's coming to the track and he's worried about her. Long short story, their son (Jack) with her and she felt like she's going to go faint and she tell Jack to find Toto for her and Toto's being her knight in shining armor,rescued her. Just fluff and comfort. Tag me later. Thanks! :))
TAKE IT EASY| T.WOLFF
Pairing; Toto Wolff x Wife!reader
Summary; Your stubbornness to admit you may be feeling unwell might just be your downfall one day but your husband will always be there to catch you, as will your son.
Warnings; none
F1 Master List
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You could feel the worried gaze of your husband from where he was standing in the en-suite getting dressed, he had woken up before you this morning which was his first notification that something was wrong but once he saw your flushed cheeks and pressed the back of his hand against your forehead he knew you certainly weren’t well.
He had tried to convince you to go back to bed but you refused, you were here to support him and Jack was so excited to attend a race again and whilst Toto was more than capable of looking after him, it was just easier for you to take care of Jack and entertain him because Toto still had work to do, a toddler didn’t just want to sit in the garage and wait for their father to finish a bunch of things before having fun.
So you insisted that you were fine and were adamant on going to the track, ignoring the churning of your stomach, fogginess in your mind and how weak your body felt.
Toto wasn’t happy with your decision at all, your health was so much more important to him than any race that he had brought up not going himself but you had shot down that idea before he could even finish his sentence.
So he relented.
You were now on your way to the track, the car wasn’t doing anything good for your stomach, leaving you to lean your head against the window with your eyes closed as you took deep breaths through your nose.
What was meant to be the comforting touch of your husband rubbing his hand back and forth across your thigh wasn’t helping with the nausea you felt either because all you could think about was how similar the touch was to him rubbing his hand up and down your back as you threw up.
Jack was in the back babbling nonstop about how excited he was to see Lewis again and hopefully sit in the car and you loved your son so much but your head was so fuzzy that everything he was saying you were hearing three times and you couldn’t think straight.
"Mama?" His small voice called out and you could perfectly hear the undertone of excitement.
"Yeah, darling?" You slowly turned around in your seat so you could look at him, mustering up the biggest smile you could for him.
"Can we see Charles and Carlos, today?" He asked, face filled with hope.
"We can do whatever you want to do but remember they’ll be very busy preparing for the race so they might not have time to speak with you."
"Okay, and can we see Bono?" He asked.
"Yes," you smiled weakly.
"And Mick?"
"If you want to, yes."
"And Lando and Oscar too?"
"We’ll do whatever you want to do Jack."
"Well I want food before we see Lando," he said strong cause you to laugh.
"Yeah, we mustn’t forget about that," you agreed before turning back in your seat. Of all the days for your son to be riddled with energy, today was not really ideal but you suppose that’s what comes with being a parent.
You rested your head back against the window, looking out at the streets you passed, reaching out blindly your clasped your hand with Toto’s that hadn’t removed from its position on your leg, hoping his touch could help you feel even the slightest bit better.
Toto released a deep breath as he turned off the car and turned to look at you. You hadn’t even registered that you had arrived at the track, still staring out the window in a daze. "It’s not too late to turn around and go back to the hotel, we can go back to bed." He spoke up quietly, not wanting to startle her.
You shook your head and turned to him with a smile, "I’ll be fine, come on, jack’s getting antsy," you responded, hearing your son trying and failing to unfasten his seatbelt.
Your husband huffed in defeat and reluctantly got out the car, opening the door behind his to let Jack out, you heard him entertain his childish rambling and as soon as the door shut you took a second to take a deep breath before getting out yourself.
"Mummy’s not feeling today so it’s up to you to take care of her okay?" Toto whispered to his son, who was resting on his hip, so you couldn’t hear.
Jack frowned and looked to his father in concern for you. "She’s poorly?"
Toto nodded "She’s doesn’t feel well, are you going to keep an eye on her for me?" Jack nodded with a determined look on his face before wriggling for Toto to put him down.
"Mummy!" He ran around the car as soon as his feet his the ground so he could get to you.
"Yeah, baby?" You crouched down, surprised when he wrapped his arms around your neck in a hug.
"I don’t want to see Charles, Carlos or Lando today, can we just get food and stay in Papa’s office and watch the race from the garage?" He asked.
You looked at him in confusion at his sudden change, he was beyond excited earlier and whilst you were relieved at the change in what he wanted, you were surprised at how abruptly he didn’t want to go and see the other drivers anymore.
"Are you sure that’s what you want?" You asked, skeptical as he nodded confidently but you reluctantly agreed.
"Okay then," you grabbed his hand and Toto grabbed his other as the three of you made your way into the track, you ignored the worried eyes of your husband that kept flickering to you every few seconds, the pair of you ignored the fans and shouts of media reporters as you weren’t in the mood to feign happiness and Toto was just far too concerned about you.
You had hoped that as day went by you would start to feel better but if anything you felt worse, you had went to hospitality with Jack to get some food to take back to Toto’s office but the mixture of smells had sent you spiralling and you tried to get out of there as quick as possible.
You and Jack had been in Toto’s office for about an hour and you hadn’t seen your husband in about two.
Jack was being on his best behaviour though, you don’t know where his change in what he wanted to do today came from but he seemed content sitting on the floor with his snacks and watching the live recording of the track on your phone.
You had sat yourself down on Toto’s chair to try and relax a bit but your head was spinning so much and your vision was starting to blur.
"Jack?" You called out weakly, you had tried to sound as though everything was okay as to not worry him but it didn’t work that well.
"Mama?" Jack pulled himself up to his feet immediately, live broadcast long forgotten as he saw his mother even paler than you had been this morning and leaning against his father’s desk, a thin layer of perspiration on your skin.
"Can you go get Papa for me? Tell him I need him quickly." You told him, trying to smile at him but your body didn’t even have the energy for that.
Jack didn’t need to be told twice, he turned around and ran to find Toto, opening the door with so much force that it banged against the wall before closing half way again.
"Papa!"
The Mercedes team all looked away from what they were doing and turned towards the sound of Jack’s panicked voice followed by the sight of him running through the garage with a petrified look on his face, searching for his dad.
"Papa!" He pretty much screamed, fear overtaking his body knowing that something was really wrong with his mother right now and you were alone and he couldn’t find his father.
The Mercedes team were worried beyond belief as they took in just how scared Jack was and how desperate he sounded for Toto who wasn’t in the garage at the moment.
"Jack?" Lewis slowly approached the boy who was stood in the middle of the garage, looking all around him, tears welling up in his eyes when he couldn’t see his dad.
He looked at Lewis frantically. "Where’s Papa?" He demanded.
"I think he’s speaking to someone right now, are you okay?" Lewis crouched down in front of him.
Jack shook his head aggressively, "I need Papa, Mama needs him quickly!"
"Where’s your mama?" Lewis asked as worry filled him. "Show me where she is, maybe I can help her?"
But Jack shook his head "no, she needs Papa, she told me to get him quickly."
Lewis sighed but nodded, a bad feeling was settling have in his chest for you. "Okay, you stay right here and don’t move and I’m going to go and get your dad, okay?"
"You need to be quick!" Jack told him desperately.
"I’ll be as quick as I can." Lewis told him, giving a look to the team to keep an eye on him before turning and quite literally running out of the garage.
People stopped and watched in confusion as they saw Lewis Hamilton running through the pits, looking around frantically for someone.
It didn’t take him long to see Toto sticking out from the crowd, in the middle of an interview with Martin Brundle, he didn’t care that it was live and brutally interrupted the pair of them, grabbing Toto’s arm. "You need to come with me, now. It’s important."
Seeing the serious look in his driver’s eyes, a million scenarios swirled around in Toto’s mind. He didn’t even excuse himself from Martin knowing that Lewis wouldn’t just crash his interview for no reason.
What took him back more was the fact that his driver had started running back into the direction of their garage and Toto didn’t hesitate to follow.
He couldn’t imagine how this looked, Lewis running through the paddock frantically, crashing Toto’s live interview and the pair of them running back.
"What is wrong?" He huffed as they weaved in and out of the masses of people crowding in the pits.
Lewis kept his voice down as he explained, not wanting this to hit the internet from someone overhearing. "I have no idea, Jack was screaming in the middle of the garage, looking for you. He said Y/N needed you quickly so I tried to get him to tell me where she was but he wouldn’t, said she told him to get you as quick as he could, he looked terrified."
A deep sickening feeling settled into the pit of Toto’s stomach as he quickened his pace, he knew you weren’t well today and the multiple scenarios of what could possibly have happened scared him.
"Papa!" Jack yelled as soon as he saw his father enter the garage, running straight for Toto and diving into his legs. "Quickly! Mama said she needs you."
Toto picked Jack up and looked him in the eye. "You stay here with Lewis, okay? I’m going to go see Mama."
Jack nodded, suddenly a lot more calm now that his dad was here and didn’t complain when he was passed off to Lewis.
Toto quickly made his way to his office and as soon as he stood in the threshold of the doorway, his heart fell to his stomach as he lay his eyes upon you, unconscious on the floor by his desk.
He was by your side in a second, kneeling next to you as he rolled you onto your side and moved your hair from your face.
"Liebe?" He gently tapped the side of your face, trying to coerce you out of unconsciousness.
At no response, he pressed the back of his hand against your forehead, grimacing at the amount of heat he felt radiating from your body. Looking around his office, he saw a glass of ice water sitting on his desk, he grabbed the glass and dipped his hand inside before pressing it back against your forehead, hoping it would cool you down a bit.
"Schatz?" He tried to wake you again, this time successful as he heard a slight change in your breathing and saw your eyes moving beneath your lids.
"Y/N, you’re okay, take it easy." He continued speaking to try and coerce you more awake, smiling when he saw your eyes open.
You were confused to see your husband hovering above you, your mind was foggy and your body felt so heavy you couldn’t move your limbs.
Looking around, you found that you were lying on the floor causing your face to contort into confusion.
Turning back to Toto, you blinked up at him and upon seeing the questioning look on your face, he explained. "You fainted, and gave Jack quite the fright too."
Hearing Jack’s name, your body filled with worry and you tried to sit up but Toto’s hands on your shoulders encouraged you to lay back down. "He’s fine, he’s with Lewis."
"Need a drink," you told him causing him to look at the glass on the edge of his desk.
"I’ll get you a new one, I put my hand in that one to try and cool you down," he told you.
You shook your head, "it’s fine," you held out your hand for him to just give you the one on the desk, not really wanting him to leave at the minute.
Toto brought the glass to your lips, insisting on hosing it for you since your hands were shaky and he didn’t want you spilling it all over yourself. "Have you had anything to eat?"
You shook your head, the idea of food earlier had knocked you funny but you know you should probably eat something.
"I’ll get someone from hospitality to make you some toast," he told you, not really giving you the opportunity to refuse, not that you would have anyways. "Do you feel better now?"
"Yeah, thank you." you replied, sitting yourself up to lean against his desk. It was as though passing out was what your body needed to recover because the fuzziness in your head had faded away, the hot flush all over your body was gone and your stomach was no longer churning anymore, it just felt empty.
"We should’ve stayed at the hotel," Toto repeated for what felt like the hundredth time today and you couldn’t even argue with him this time. "I know," you responded.
"Do you want to stay in here and rest while the race is happening? I can keep Jack with me."
You shook your head, "No, I want to watch it out there; I’ll be fine."
Toto sighed but nodded.
"Mama!" Jack ran away from Lewis and towards you as soon as he saw you and Toto leave his office, you smiled widely and crouched down for him to run into your arms despite Toto’s protests, knowing you still felt a bit weak.
"Hi, baby," you wrapped your arms around him tightly and rubbed a hand up and down his back.
"I got Papa just like you said," he spoke into your shoulder.
"I know, you did such a good job," you told him proudly.
Toto insisted that you stay near him whilst the race was happening, not willing for you to leave his sight incase anything else happened so you curled up on a chair beside him with Jack on your lap, the boy also not wanting to be far from you, with Toto’s large coat draped over the pair of you.
A plate of toast and a glass of water had been set in front of you next to the monitors and there was no way you could stomach all four slices so you and Jack split it.
The media had their speculations as to why Toto and Lewis had been rushing through the paddock but once they saw you snuggled up on the chair beside Toto, still very pale, they could guess what happened but they thought it was adorable seeing how the man would constantly glance away from the monitor to you and Jack to ensure you were okay, his hand stroking your hair away from your face every few minutes.
1K notes · View notes
beiasluv · 7 months
Text
arrow and papaya | o. piastri (81)
a/n: figured you guys are bored with yn adoring oscar…so here’s more 🤭
mercedesamgf1
melbourne, australia
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liked by yourinsta, lewishamilton, and 629,827 others
mercedesamgf1 check out georgerussell63’s australian starter pack, featuring our non-aussie expert…yourinsta 😉
view all 197,828 comments
yourinsta thank you for the honorable expert title 🤭
landonorris how are you verified for this
danielricciardo don’t discredit my aussie protector
liked by oscarpiastri
username we clearly know why she is considered an expert 😩
georgerussell63 thank you for the flip flops 👊
yourinsta you meant thongs?
georgerussell63 can I buy you Tim tams to shut you up?
yourinsta send ‘em in 🤭🤍
yourinsta
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liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo, and 787,828 others
yourinsta sorry, lewis. he said I’m his new favorite driverr now 🥰
view all 263,627 comments
lewishamilton so no more roscoe play dates?
yourinsta i am buying roscoe more treats rn 😦😭
lewishamilton the veggie ones 👊
yourinsta obviously, i am his godmother 🩷
georgerussell63 he clearly haven’t met the most amazing mercedes driver enough yet
yourinsta are we hearing something? 😗
landonorris did you bribe him with tim tams
yourinsta you’re supposed to be on my side :(
landonorris if we’re against george then count me in 👊
username are we getting yn and oscar baby fever???
username JAILLL 💀 they are my rookies/babies
lilymhe and I’m his favorite golfer??? 🥺
susie_wolff jack approved!!
lilymhe yasss
alex_albon not fair 🩷 you’re the only golfer he knows
yourinsta no heart emoji for lily allowed in my comment section, albon
alex_albon where’s oscar 🤦‍♂️
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oscarpiastri
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liked by landonorris, mclaren, and 871,627 others
oscarpiastri track n’ media day, thank you! 👊🧡
view all 227,197 comments
mclaren my favorite rookies (couple) 🧡
mercedesamgf1 OUR favorite rookies
username admins, please give us more ynos content 😩
mclaren mercedes collab when??
mercedes let me bring this to toto 🤞
username #prayforoscar
landonorris was it my camera or daniel’s?? 😒
yourinsta you’re forgetting that also have one, just admit that you’re jealous 😗
landonorris never 😎
danielricciardo i would like to be excluded from this narrative
yourinsta okay, but only because you’ve asked nicely (and you’re my honey badger) 🫶
lilymhe anyone having trouble distinguishing yn and oscar’s instagram?? 🤭
logansargeant there are two accounts??
oscarpiastri sorry that you had to find out this way 🤷‍♂️
yourinsta I’m so sorry for your lost, logan
yourinsta thank you 😘
oscarpiastri ❤️
yourinsta did you get the orange juice?
oscarpiastri yes, did you get your tim tams?
yourinsta yes 🫶
landonorris there’s a thing called dm, yn
yourinsta why are you only attacking me :(
yourinsta
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liked by susie_wolff, georgerussell63 and 618,815 others
yourinsta she’s everything, and he’s just a boss 🤷‍♀️ love you susieeeee 🫶
view all 187,528 comments
susie_wolff thank you, hon 🩷
liked by yourinsta
georgerussell63 i see, the shirt has gained popularity
yourinsta would you like my shirt, russell?
georgerussell63 no, thank you. give it to oscar, maybe he’ll wear it
landonorris he won’t take it off for 3 days already 😨
yourinsta send pics please landonorris 🤭
georgerussell63
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georgerussell63 you can’t have them anymore 👊 yourinsta
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yourinsta please. you can have them, except oscar :(
logansargeant GIVE HIM BACK!! 🗣
yourinsta thank! you!
landonorris i thought i was your friend, ynn
yourinsta okay…I’ll have lando back too (cause Zak will be mad)
lilymhe no harassing my girl 😠
yourinsta thank you, girls’ girllll 🫶
lilymhe you’re welcomee 🩷
alex_albon are you asking for me back?
lilymhe maybe? (Yessss 😘)
landonorris mate, when is someone asking for me back?
carlossainz55 i can come and get you, lando
landonorris god help me 😭
username george held oscar captive cause he is actually protective of yn and can’t accept that he can’t let her go easily. period.
liked by georgerussell63
username you are delulu girl
username delulu is the solulu, ask charles about ferrari
username YOU DID NOT 😭
username george liked! I repeat, george liked!!!
yourinsta’s story
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mclaren
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mclaren pstt, driver(s) of the day post 👊🧡 (hi ynnnn 👋🫶)
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username not mclaren’s admin being obsessed with yn 🤭
username biggest shipper of the grid spotted
yourinsta hi adminnnn😚 i think you forgot charles_leclerc
charles_leclerc i think it is on purpose 👍
landonorris I’m sorry for you loss, charles
charles_leclerc what??
I can not stop making them. lmk if y’all are bored 💀
like, reblog, inbox me, whatever if you liked it. if not, what are you even doing 🥱 jkk
today’s a great day to take care of yourself. stay hydrated!!
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