fanfictionismyaddiction

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Threes a formula

I know it’s not technically in the right order but I just saw valtteri doing this for the social media team (thank you full time influencer part time reserve) so I had to write Y/n into that scenario.

Word count: 461

Pairing: Toto Wolff x Susie Wolff x reader!nanny, feat. Jack

Summary: During the Bahrain Grand Prix weekend, Valtteri Bottas surprises Y/n with a fun karaoke question for Mercedes’ social media.

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Chapter 9: Hopelessly Devoted (to the Paddock)

It was a golden, breezy afternoon in the Bahrain paddock, the first race weekend of the season buzzing with anticipation. Valtteri Bottas, on a rare return to the Mercedes garage for a media appearance, strolled around with a cheeky smile and a mic in hand, filming a lighthearted video for the team’s social channels.

“Hi everyone, it’s Valtteri,” he said into the camera, slipping back into familiar surroundings. “We’re back with a very serious paddock investigation. Today’s question: what is your favorite karaoke song?”

As he made his way through mechanics, engineers, and a very enthusiastic strategist who proudly declared Bohemian Rhapsody as his go-to, the camera followed Valtteri as he turned a corner and lit up.

“Ah, look who it is!” he grinned. “She’s not technically a team member, but honestly, she might as well be by now. It’s Miss Paddock Sunshine herself—Y/n L/n!”

Y/n turned, mid-sip of her iced coffee, with Jack Wolff holding her hand and squinting up at Valtteri. She laughed, already suspicious. “No, no, I know that look. What are you up to?”

“Just a little question,” Valtteri said innocently. “What’s your favorite karaoke song?”

Y/n blinked. “That’s what this is about?”

Jack tugged on her hand. “Tell him about the Olivia song!”

“Traitor,” she whispered dramatically to Jack before looking up at the camera. “Okay, fine. Hopelessly Devoted to You. From Grease. Don’t judge me.”

Valtteri raised his brows, impressed. “A very romantic, very classic choice. Now—can we hear a little bit?”

Y/n froze. “Excuse me?”

“Just one line. Come on, it’s for the fans.”

Jack nodded eagerly, “Please, Y/n! You sound so pretty when you sing it.”

Caught in the trap, Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. She cleared her throat, playfully stepping back.

“But now… there’s nowhere to hide, since you pushed my love aside…”

Her voice was soft but clear, effortlessly carrying the melody. She stopped quickly, eyes wide, covering her mouth with her hand as a few nearby engineers actually applauded.

Valtteri turned to the camera, deadpan. “Okay. That was way better than expected.”

Within hours, the clip hit social media—and exploded. Comments rolled in:

“I did NOT have Y/n being a Disney princess on my 2025 bingo card.”

“Her voice??? Toto, protect her at all costs.”

“Jack is her #1 fan and I love that for him.”

“She’s hopelessly devoted to the Wolffs, let’s be honest.”

Even George Russell posted the clip with a caption:

“When you find out the paddock queen is also a vocalist.”

And Susie? She shared it on her story with a single caption:

“Team karaoke night pending.”

______________________________________________________________@pand-de-pandora-blog @wonderwolffs @laura-naruto-fan1998 @strangegirl974 @totothewolff @xoscar03 @noooway555 @myescapefromthislife @omgsuperstarg @laur2608 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @cherry-piee @jkdaddy01

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Threes a formula

Word count: 660

Pairing: Toto Wolff x Susie Wolff x reader, feat. Jack

Summary: Y/n playfully teases Toto for oversleeping and missing FP1.

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Casper 8: Early Mornings & Sleepy Team Principals

The soft glow of her phone screen was the only light in the room as Y/n groggily reached for it, barely prying her eyes open. 4:30 AM.

With a quiet sigh, she wrapped herself in a blanket and tiptoed out of her room, making her way to the living room. The Japanese Grand Prix was always brutal for European viewers, but Y/n was dedicated—she had gotten too invested in the sport to miss a session, thanks to the wolffs.

She curled up on the couch, a hot mug of tea in her hands, as FP1 played on the screen. The Mercedes cars looked strong, but she couldn’t help but notice a certain absence on the team radio. Toto usually made his presence known during sessions, even if he wasn’t present, but this time, there was nothing.

By the time the sun had risen and FP1 wrapped up, Y/n stretched and made her way to the kitchen, deciding to start breakfast while waiting for FP2. At 8 AM sharp, she had the second session playing on her iPad, stirring pancake batter as the commentators filled the kitchen with chatter.

That was when she heard it.

“No sign of Toto Wolff this morning—apparently, the Mercedes boss slept in and wasn’t available for FP1!”

Y/n nearly dropped the whisk, her head snapping up as a slow grin spread across her face. Oh, this is gold. She thought maybe she just didn’t hear him on live but she was sure he was in his office communicating with the team.

She didn’t have to wait long. Footsteps signaled Toto’s arrival, dressed in sweats and looking far too relaxed for a man whose team was currently on track.

“Good morning,” he greeted, his voice still husky with sleep.

“Oh, good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” Y/n turned to face him, arms crossed.

Toto frowned slightly. “What?”

She gestured to the iPad, where the session was still playing. “Apparently, the mighty team principal didn’t wake up in time for FP1. How unprofessional.”

Toto exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “It was 4:30 AM, Y/n.”

She gasped in mock offense. “And yet, I managed to wake up. And I am not the boss of a Formula 1 team.”

Toto gave her a dry look. “No, you just run this household.”

Before she could respond, Susie walked in, already dressed and looking far more put together than her husband. She took one look at Toto’s disheveled state, then at Y/n’s smug expression, and smirked.

“Oh, did Y/n find out?”

“She did,” Y/n confirmed cheerfully. “And I think it’s hilarious.”

Susie grinned. “So do I. Toto Wolff, missing in action. Imagine if the fans found out—”

“They did,” Y/n cut in, pointing at the screen. “Brundle mentioned it on commentary.”

Toto groaned, rubbing his temples. “Fantastic.”

Before he could defend himself further, tiny footsteps pattered into the kitchen. Jack, still in his pajamas, looked up at his parents sleepily. “What’s funny?”

Y/n bent down with a grin. “Daddy forgot to wake up for the race.”

At that moment, a shift in the air was almost palpable.

Susie and Toto’s eyes met over Y/n’s shoulder, something flickering between them—something heated, charged. It was subtle, but Y/n felt it, a strange awareness crawling up her spine as she straightened.

Jack, oblivious to the tension thickening in the kitchen, gasped dramatically. “Daddy, you missed it?”

Toto cleared his throat, finally tearing his gaze away from Susie. “Not the race, just practice.”

Jack placed his hands on his hips in a perfect imitation of his mother. “You always tell me to wake up on time.”

Y/n and Susie burst into laughter, but Toto’s gaze lingered on Y/n for a second longer than necessary, his lips twitching upward in something between amusement and something else—something Y/n wasn’t ready to name.

“I am never living this down, am I?” Toto sighed, shaking his head.

“Nope,” Y/n said brightly, sliding a plate of pancakes toward him. “But hey, at least you’re awake now.”

Susie smirked knowingly, fingers tapping against the counter as she observed them both. “Yes, wide awake.”

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Threes a formula

Word count: 565

Pairing: Toto Wolff x Susie Wolff x reader, feat. Jack

Summary: As Y/n bakes Jack’s birthday cake, the Wolff family’s warmth and affection deepen.

A/n: Is it okay if the chapters are shorter? Hopefully, that way, I can write more often. Let me know if that works for you, and if not, feel free to share your preferences!

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Chapter 7: Sweet Celebrations

The kitchen smelled like vanilla and warm sugar as Y/n carefully poured cake batter into a pan, humming softly to herself. It was Jack’s birthday, and she had promised him a homemade cake—chocolate, of course, with blue frosting, because blue was his favorite color this week.

Toto had taken the day off to celebrate, opting to skip the Japanese Grand Prix in favor of spending time with his family, which, in many ways, included Y/n now. Susie leaned against the counter, watching Y/n work with a soft smile, while Toto stood nearby, sipping his coffee, looking far too handsome in his casual sweater.

Jack sat on the kitchen island, kicking his little feet in the air as he watched Y/n mix the frosting. “Is it ready yet?” he asked for the fifth time in the last ten minutes.

“Almost, birthday boy,” Y/n teased, tapping a bit of flour on the tip of his nose. “Patience is a virtue.”

“What’s a virtue?” Jack scrunched his nose.

Toto chuckled. “Something you learn to appreciate when you’re older.”

“Like Y/n?” Jack asked innocently, looking between his parents and Y/n, who was now blushing as Toto smirked.

“Exactly like Y/n,” Susie said, nudging Y/n’s side playfully. “She’s practically a saint for putting up with all of us.”

Y/n rolled her eyes but smiled. “Speaking of birthdays, do you know what’s special about tomorrow, Jack?”

Jack’s eyes widened. “Is it another cake day?”

“Sort of.” Y/n laughed. “It’s my grandma’s birthday. She lives in Germany, so I can’t see her tomorrow, but I always think of her when I bake.”

Jack’s little face lit up with excitement. “We should do something for her! Can we send her a cake?”

Susie laughed. “It might not survive the trip, sweetheart.”

“But we can do something special,” Y/n reassured him. “Maybe we can make a video or a drawing to send her?”

Jack clapped his hands. “Yes! And I can tell her I’m five now!”

Toto, who had been listening with an amused expression, set his coffee down and crossed his arms. “You know… I have to go to Stuttgart soon for Mercedes.” He glanced at Y/n. “Why don’t we all go? You haven’t been home in months.”

Y/n froze, her hands still holding the frosting bowl. “Really?” Her voice was soft, almost hesitant, as if she didn’t want to get too excited.

“Of course.” Toto’s expression softened. “It would be nice to meet your family, don’t you think?”

Jack gasped dramatically. “We can see where Y/n is from?”

Y/n looked at them all, her heart swelling. It had been too long since she’d seen her family, and the thought of bringing Jack, Susie, and even Toto into that part of her world was overwhelming in the best way possible.

“I’d love that,” she said, beaming. “And I know my grandma will, too.”

Susie wrapped an arm around Y/n’s waist, giving her a squeeze. “Then it’s settled. Family trip to Stuttgart.”

Toto, ever the serious planner, gave a decisive nod. “And now, let’s finish this cake before Jack combusts.”

Y/n laughed, turning back to her work, but not before she felt Toto’s hand linger just a little longer than necessary on the small of her back. Susie’s fingers brushed against her arm as she leaned in to steal a taste of the frosting.

Maybe this birthday was turning out sweeter than she expected.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

do u accept requests?

Yes yes please!!!

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Unexpected Reunion

Word count: 404

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: You unexpectedly run into your ex-boyfriend Lando Norris and his new girlfriend Magui.

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You hadn’t planned on running into Lando. It had been months since you’d last seen him, and while things had ended on good terms, life had simply moved on. You were still close with his mom, Cisca, though. She had always treated you like family, and even after the breakup, she insisted that nothing had to change between you two.

So, when she invited you for coffee while she was in town, you didn’t hesitate. You were sitting at an outdoor café, laughing with her about something trivial, when a familiar voice made you glance up.

“Hey, Mum—oh.”

Lando stood there, looking just as surprised as you. And beside him was a girl you immediately recognized—Magui.

You’d heard about her, of course. Everyone had. The internet was relentless when it came to new WAGs, and you had seen the narratives. Some called her a social climber, others insisted she was the real deal. You never paid much attention to it—people always had opinions, and most of them weren’t worth listening to.

Still, you weren’t sure how this moment was going to go.

But then Magui smiled at you—genuinely. “Hi! You must be Y/n. It’s really nice to meet you.”

You blinked, slightly caught off guard. “Oh—yeah, that’s me.” You turned to Lando with an amused smirk. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Lando rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little awkward but not uncomfortable. “Yeah, we were just walking around, and Mum texted me she was here.”

Magui’s smile didn’t waver. “She talks about you all the time.”

Cisca rolled her eyes. “Because I like her. She’s still family.”

You chuckled. “Well, I appreciate that.” You glanced at Magui, trying to get a read on her, but all you saw was warmth. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Lando, who had been standing a little stiffly, seemed to relax at your words.

The four of you ended up sitting together for a little while. Magui was sweet, asking about your work, your travels—nothing about Lando, nothing weird. It was a relief, honestly.

When they eventually got up to leave, Magui surprised you by giving you a quick hug. “I hope we see you again soon.”

You watched them walk away, then turned to Cisca, who was looking at you with a knowing smile.

“She’s nice,” you admitted. “I’m happy for him.”

Cisca patted your hand. “I knew you would be.”

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Charles or Lewis x reader where reader comforts them after they were disqualified in the chinese prix? I feel so bad for them 😭😭

In the Wake of Shadows

Word count: 551

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Summary: After a devastating disqualification at the Chinese Grand Prix, Lewis Hamilton returns home, weighed down by disappointment.

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The scent of home-cooked food filled the apartment, a warm contrast to the cold weight in Lewis’s chest. Y/N had been in the kitchen for hours, carefully preparing his favorite meal. She wanted everything to be perfect—not just the taste but the comfort it would bring.

When the door finally opened, she turned to see him standing there, his body heavy with exhaustion. His eyes were dull, his usual bright energy dimmed by the weight of the day.

“Hey, love,” she said softly, wiping her hands on a towel as she walked over to him.

Lewis barely managed a small smile, his shoulders slumping as she wrapped her arms around his waist. He exhaled a slow, shaky breath and buried his face into the crook of her neck. She felt the tension in his muscles, the quiet defeat in the way he clung to her just a second longer than usual.

“I made your favorite,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “You probably didn’t eat properly today.”

Lewis let out a soft chuckle, though it lacked his usual lightness. “You always know what I need.”

She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, brushing her thumbs across his cheeks. “Yeah, well, you take care of everyone else. Someone’s gotta take care of you.”

Guiding him to the table, she watched as he took in the meal she’d prepared—every detail meant to comfort him. He sat down, exhaling slowly. “This looks amazing, baby.”

She sat beside him, resting her hand over his. “You know, I’ve been thinking about Sunday, and I get why you’re upset. It’s frustrating and unfair. But that wasn’t on you, Lew. You already showed everyone this weekend that you’re still the GOAT.”

He shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “Did I, though?”

She scoffed. “You won the sprint, Lewis. You drove that car to the top. It worked out last race because of you. Sundays mess? That’s on the team, not your ability.”

He stared at her for a moment, the words sinking in. She squeezed his hand. “One bad call doesn’t erase everything you’ve done. And it sure as hell doesn’t change the fact that you’re still one of the greatest to ever do this.”

For the first time all evening, his expression softened. He turned his hand over to lace his fingers through hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I don’t deserve you, you know that?”

She grinned. “No, but you’re stuck with me anyway.”

He chuckled, the sound finally carrying warmth again. “Thank God for that.”

She nudged his arm. “Now eat before I start spoon-feeding you.”

Lewis smirked. “You just want an excuse to baby me, don’t you?”

She winked. “You caught me.”

As he took his first bite, a quiet sigh of relief left his lips. The weight of the disqualification still lingered, but in that moment—with Y/N by his side—he felt just a little lighter.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

WAG Bootcamp: Part 2

Part 1

Word count: 593

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: On her first-ever race day, Y/n experiences the chaos, stress, and excitement of Formula 1 as the WAGs teach her how to survive the emotional rollercoaster.

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Y/n thought she had survived the worst of the initiation. She had learned the pre-race rituals, mastered (or at least attempted) the mysterious “paddock girlfriend face,” and even accepted that she now had to irrationally hate any driver who so much as looked at Lando the wrong way.

But nothing could have prepared her for race day.

The paddock was buzzing with energy—fans screaming, engines roaring, and mechanics in a frenzy. Y/n had barely taken a sip of her coffee when Kika grabbed her arm.

“Alright, rookie. Time for the next lesson.”

“What now?” Y/n asked warily.

“How to survive a Grand Prix,” Lily said, tossing her a pair of noise-canceling headphones. “Trust me, you’ll need these.”

Lesson Four: The Race-Day Survival Guide

Y/n followed the WAGs to the McLaren hospitality area, where they had their usual spots. The screens showed the cars lining up on the grid, and she could already feel her heart pounding.

“Step one,” Alex said, crossing her arms. “No matter what happens, you do not freak out on camera. If Lando crashes, you hold it together until you’re inside.”

“Wait—crashes?” Y/n swallowed. “We’re talking about, like, little crashes, right?”

Silence.

“Right?”

Susie patted her shoulder. “You’ll be fine, dear.”

Not comforting.

“Step two,” Rebecca added, “learn the art of selective hearing. The commentators will say stupid things, the fans will tweet even dumber things, and some guy named David Croft will mispronounce names. Ignore it.”

“Step three,” Carmen leaned in, lowering her voice. “If Lando is leading, do not say out loud that he’s going to win. You will jinx it.”

Y/n blinked. “You guys actually believe in jinxes?”

Kelly, who had remained quiet until now, turned to her with a dead-serious expression. “Max retired from Monaco 2021 because I said, ‘This is going well.’”

Y/n gasped. “Oh my God.”

“We don’t talk about it,” Kika muttered.

The lights went out, and the race began.

Lesson Five: How to Emotionally Handle a Race (Spoiler: You Don’t)

It started fine. Lando had a clean start, holding position. Y/n sat on the edge of her seat, gripping her hands together, trying not to scream every time someone got too close to him.

Then, lap 12 happened.

A driver—who Y/n immediately decided to despise for eternity—dove down the inside, nearly taking Lando out.

Y/n shot to her feet. “WHAT THE—”

Lily yanked her back down. “Cameras!” she hissed.

“That was reckless!” Y/n whisper-yelled, furious.

“Congratulations,” Alex smirked. “You just experienced your first ‘what the hell was that’ moment. There will be many more.”

For the next thirty laps, Y/n experienced every emotion possible. Joy when Lando made an overtake. Panic when the pit stop took too long. Rage when another driver squeezed him off track. She nearly passed out when he was fighting for a podium.

And then—P2.

“He did it!” Y/n gasped as Lando crossed the line.

The WAGs cheered, clapping and hugging.

Y/n exhaled, feeling like she had just run a marathon. “I don’t know if I can do this every weekend.”

“You will,” Kelly said, sipping her drink. “Welcome to the rest of your life.”

Lesson Six: The Post-Race Debrief

After a chaotic cooldown period, Y/n finally found Lando, still in his race suit, hair messy from his helmet, grinning as he pulled her into a hug.

“How was your first race?” he asked, slightly breathless.

Y/n looked at him, remembering everything—the stress, the screaming, the insane group of women who had taken her in.

She smiled.

“Terrifying. But I think I love it.”

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Thank you to @wonderwolffs for this request

Everyone say thank you

Request: Given Toto is Lana Del Rey coded having a partner/wife who dresses 50s/60s inspired and is the talk of the paddock on race weekends

Pit Lane Glamour

Word count: 524

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader

Summary: Y/n Wolff and her best friend, Dita Von Teese, are an effortlessly glamorous and mischievous duo

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The Monaco paddock was a spectacle in itself—glittering under the Mediterranean sun, pulsing with the energy of engines revving and cameras flashing. But even amidst the chaos of a Grand Prix weekend, there were two figures who managed to steal the show without even trying.

Y/n Wolff and Dita Von Teese were an evil combination.

Not because they were cruel, or sharp-tongued, or out to make enemies. No, they were simply too elegant, too poised, too unbothered. They floated through the paddock like ghosts of a bygone era, draped in silk and lace, red lips curled in amusement as they observed the world of motorsport with a level of detached amusement.

And at the center of their shared mischief? One very tall, very powerful, and very obsessed Toto Wolff.

“You know, darling,” Dita mused, adjusting the lace gloves on her delicate hands as they strolled through the paddock, “I do believe Toto might combust if you wear that shade of red any longer.”

Y/n smirked, glancing down at the cherry-colored dress that clung to her frame. “Oh, I know,” she replied. “He tries so hard to act unaffected, but I see the way his eye twitches.”

Dita sighed dramatically. “Men are so weak.”

The two of them reached the Mercedes hospitality suite, where Toto was standing, arms crossed, talking to one of the engineers. He was the epitome of power—suited, sunglasses shielding his sharp gaze, the embodiment of control.

Until he saw them.

Until he saw her.

Y/n watched as Toto stiffened slightly, jaw tightening, lips pressing together like he was already preparing for whatever chaos she and Dita were about to bring.

Dita leaned in, her voice a purr. “He looks like a man in distress.”

Y/n grinned. “Let’s fix that.”

She stepped forward first, her heels clicking softly against the pavement. “Mr. Wolff,” she greeted, voice laced with sweetness.

Toto sighed, already exasperated. “Mrs. Wolff.”

Dita followed, a vision in a navy blue fitted dress and a vintage hat that cast the perfect shadow over her sharp eyes. “Oh, Toto,” she crooned, “you look so serious. Aren’t race weekends supposed to be fun?”

Toto pinched the bridge of his nose. “It is my job, Dita.”

“And your job includes looking at your wife like she’s a particularly dangerous curve on a racetrack?”

Y/n beamed, looping her arm through Toto’s. “He can’t help it. I’m simply irresistible.”

Dita sighed. “I really don’t know how he gets anything done.”

“I don’t,” Toto admitted flatly. “I don’t get anything done.”

Y/n giggled, pressing a kiss to his cheek, leaving the faintest trace of red lipstick behind. Toto groaned, wiping at it in vain while the two women exchanged a look of pure delight.

“Oh, we’re awful,” Dita mused.

Y/n nodded. “Horrible.”

Toto shook his head, defeated. “You are both evil.”

But even as he muttered it, his arm tightened around Y/n’s waist, pulling her closer. Because the truth was—no matter how much trouble she and Dita caused him, no matter how much they teased and tormented him—he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

The Grump and Her Golden Retriever

Word count: 467

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader

Summary: A grumpy Williams employee finds herself relentlessly pursued by Carlos Sainz’s golden-retriever energy as he makes it his mission to break her tough exterior and win her smile.

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Carlos Sainz was insufferably cheerful.

It didn’t matter if he had just finished an exhausting race, if it was pouring rain at Silverstone, or if he was running on three hours of sleep—he was always smiling. Always.

And it drove you absolutely insane.

“You are like a cartoon character,” you muttered as he slid into the seat across from you in the Williams hospitality lounge, his blue team polo slightly damp from the drizzle outside. “No one should be this happy all the time.”

Carlos, undeterred, grinned even wider. “And you are like a grumpy cat. Always frowning. It’s cute.”

You shot him a glare that should have sent him running. Instead, he looked even more delighted, as if your irritation was his personal source of entertainment.

You and Carlos were not friends. Not really. You worked in the Williams media team, and ever since he joined, he had made it his mission to get under your skin. Why? You had no idea. Maybe because you never gave in to his effortless charm like everyone else did. Maybe because you never laughed at his bad jokes. Maybe because—despite being objectively good-looking and annoyingly nice—you found his relentless optimism exhausting.

“Why do you look at me like that?” you huffed, crossing your arms.

“Because one day, I will make you smile, and it will be the greatest victory of my life.” He reached across the table and stole a fry from your plate, popping it into his mouth before you could swat his hand away.

“Carlos!” You smacked his arm, but he just laughed, completely unfazed.

“You know, for someone who insists they don’t like me, you spend a lot of time talking to me,” he teased.

“I don’t have a choice. You follow me around like a lost puppy.”

“Golden retriever,” he corrected. “Puppy sounds too small. I am a full-size, loyal, excitable—”

“A menace,” you interrupted.

Carlos gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “Ay, that hurts, mi amor.”

You groaned. “Stop calling me that.”

“Why? You like it.”

Before you could argue, Alex Albon slid into the seat next to Carlos, glancing between the two of you with an amused smirk. “Still trying to win her over, mate?”

Carlos nodded without hesitation. “Sí. She is very stubborn.”

“I’m not stubborn,” you scoffed. “I just don’t understand why you feel the need to be so… so—”

“Charming? Handsome? Irresistible?” Carlos offered.

“I was going to say annoying.”

Alex snorted. “Yeah, that checks out.”

Carlos ignored him, still watching you with that ridiculous, infuriating grin. “I will make you laugh, you know.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Not a chance.”

“Oh, querida, that sounds like a challenge.”

And with the determined glint in his eyes, you knew you were in trouble.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Thank you all so much

I can’t even put into words how happy I am right now. I never imagined something like this would be possible, and it means the world to me. Thank you all so much for your support – I truly appreciate every single one of you. Some might say 1,000 people isn’t a lot, but to me, it’s everything. This little community we’ve built is so special, and I’m so grateful for it.

If there’s anything specific you’d love to read, let me know – my asks are always open!

Thanks again xx

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Toto’s Guard Dog – Part 5

Part 1 Parte 2 Part 3 Part 4

Word count: 636

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader

Summary: Y/n finally kisses Toto, but when Christian Horner catches them and starts running his mouth, she unleashes hell.

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Y/n had Toto Wolff right where she wanted him.

For weeks, he’d been smirking, teasing, playing his little power games. But now? Now she was in control.

And Toto hated it.

Well, hated might be the wrong word.

Because every time she leaned in just a little too close—every time she touched his tie, ran her fingers down his arm, or murmured something suggestive just for him—his restraint cracked just a little more.

She was winning.

Until, of course, he decided to ruin her life.

It happened in the Mercedes motorhome.

The paddock had been hot, sticky, exhausting. Y/n had been up since sunrise, running around, dealing with logistics, making fun of Horner three times before breakfast—the usual.

By the time she made it back to the hospitality lounge, she was done.

Toto, of course, looked perfectly fine. No sweat, no exhaustion—just standing there in his crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up, arms crossed, watching her like he knew things.

She scowled. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

His smirk deepened. “Like what?”

“Like you’re thinking.”

Toto chuckled, stepping closer—too close, really. “I was just wondering…” He tilted his head. “How far are you willing to push this, schatzi?”

Her breath caught. “Push what?”

Toto leaned in, so close she could feel his breath. “This game of yours.”

For the first time in her life, Y/n was speechless.

And Toto?

Toto knew it.

He chuckled, so smug, and started to pull away.

Absolutely not.

Before he could move, Y/n grabbed his collar and kissed him.

Hard.

It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t slow. It was a collision—weeks of tension snapping like a rubber band, lips crashing, hands tangling in fabric and hair.

Toto made a sound deep in his throat—half surprise, half something much darker—and then his arms were around her, one hand gripping her waist, the other cupping her face as he devoured her.

God, he kissed like he did everything else—completely, overwhelmingly, like he owned her.

Y/n felt dizzy. Drunk. Gone.

And then—

“Ohhhhhh, well isn’t this adorable?”

Y/n and Toto ripped apart.

And there, standing in the doorway, looking way too smug—

Was Christian Horner.

Y/n was going to jail.

She could already see the headlines: Mercedes Strategist Murders Red Bull Team Principal in Broad Daylight.

Horner was grinning. “I knew there was something going on with you two.” He wagged a finger between them. “You know, Toto, for all your talk about professionalism, this seems very—”

“Get out.” Y/n’s voice was deadly.

Horner ignored her. “Honestly, this explains so much. The guard dog routine? The constant defending?” He smirked. “Tell me, Y/n, is it loyalty or are you just whipped?”

Toto tensed.

Y/n saw red.

“Oh, that’s rich,” she snapped. “You want to talk about being whipped? You’re the one whose wife has to publicly defend you every other week because you can’t keep your mouth shut.”

Horner’s smirk faltered.

Y/n wasn’t done.

“You have the audacity to call me Toto’s guard dog when you’re literally running around begging for scraps of validation from a team that doesn’t even like you? How embarrassing.” She took a step closer. “You think I’m obsessed with him? Sweetheart, you’re obsessed with beating him. And you never will.”

Horner opened his mouth—then shut it.

And for the first time ever, Christian Horner had nothing to say.

Y/n smiled sweetly. “Now. Get out.”

Horner turned on his heel and left.

The second the door shut, Toto let out a long whistle. “Mein Gott.”

Y/n turned to him, still fuming. “I hate him.”

Toto grinned. “I know.”

She crossed her arms. “I—”

Before she could finish, Toto grabbed her face and kissed her again.

Hard.

Possessive.

Like he owned her.

Like he was saying, Mine.

And Y/n?

She kissed him back.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Trophy Boyfriend

Word count: 450

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando Norris fully embraces his role as Y/n L/n’s devoted trophy boyfriend, happily standing in the background while she steals the spotlight.

________________________________________________________

Lando Norris had a lot of titles to his name—Formula 1 driver, McLaren’s golden boy, future world champion (hopefully). But none of them mattered quite as much as the one he held now: Y/n L/n’s boyfriend.

It was a role he took very seriously. Not because he was the main character in this relationship—he wasn’t, not even a little. Y/n was the main event, the superstar, the reason photographers nearly toppled over themselves trying to snap pictures when they walked into a room together.

She was everything. And he was just… well, Lando.

He didn’t mind.

“I love this dress,” he said, watching Y/n twirl in front of the mirror. It was something sleek, designer, probably gifted by a brand that wanted her to post about it.

“You think so?” she mused, adjusting the straps.

“I think,” Lando said, sliding his hands around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder, “that every single person at this event is going to wish they were me.”

Y/n laughed, rolling her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“No, I’m right.” He grinned. “I’m literally dating you. Do you know how crazy that is?”

She turned in his arms, smoothing a hand through his curls. “I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”

“I mean, look at you,” he continued dramatically. “Gorgeous. Talented. Everyone loves you. And then there’s me—your little trophy boyfriend.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “Little?”

“Well, figuratively.” He leaned in closer, voice dropping. “Not literally.”

She smacked his chest, but he could see the way her lips curled up. “Behave.”

“Never,” he murmured, stealing a quick kiss before she could stop him.

The gala was exactly what Lando expected—Y/n’s show, and he was just happy to be a part of it.

People flocked to her the second they arrived, showering her with compliments, gushing over her latest projects, asking for pictures. Lando, in the meantime, sipped his drink and stood a little off to the side, perfectly content to let her shine.

Occasionally, she would reach back for him, lacing their fingers together like a silent reminder: You’re still my favorite person here.

He liked that.

At some point, a well-meaning (but oblivious) businessman clapped Lando on the back and said, “Must be nice, huh? Being with someone like Y/n.”

Lando just grinned. “Mate, I wake up every day and wonder how I pulled it off.”

It was true. He had no delusions about who the star was in this relationship. Y/n walked into a room and owned it, and Lando? He was just happy to be the guy holding her purse when she needed both hands to take a picture.

And honestly? Best gig ever.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Toto’s Guard Dog – Part 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

Word count: 576

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader

Summary: Y/n finally flips the game on Toto, turning the tables with subtle touches and bold teasing

________________________________________________________

It hit Y/n like a lightning bolt.

For weeks, Toto had been playing with her—smirking, touching, whispering in that low Austrian murmur that sent shivers down her spine. He knew what he was doing to her, and he was enjoying every second of it.

But then she saw it.

The momentary flicker in his expression whenever she pushed back.

The way his smirk faltered—just for a second—when she called him obsessed with her.

The way his fingers twitched when she held his gaze for a little too long.

Toto Wolff, the smug, unshakable, all-powerful team principal, was not as unaffected as he pretended to be.

And that?

That was interesting.

She tested the theory in the Mercedes garage first.

Toto was leaning over a desk, talking strategy with an engineer, sleeves rolled up, watch gleaming on his wrist—the usual dangerous look. Y/n strolled in, casually resting her hand on his shoulder as she peered at the laptop screen.

“What are we looking at, boss?” she asked, making sure to lean in just enough.

She felt it. The way his muscles tensed under her touch.

Then, she leaned closer, brushing his arm as she pointed at the screen. “Mmm. So serious.” She tilted her head, letting her voice drop just slightly. “You love being in control, huh?”

Toto turned his head, gaze locking onto hers.

For a second, just a second, she saw it—his throat bobbed, his jaw clenched, and his fingers flexed like he was resisting the urge to do something about it.

Gotcha.

But then, just as quickly, he smirked. “Schatzi,” he murmured, voice silky smooth, “if you want my attention, you need only ask.”

Y/n’s breath caught—damn it.

Fine. Round one went to him.

But the game was officially on.

Her next move was in the paddock.

They were walking together when a reporter from Sky Sports approached. “Y/n! Any thoughts on this weekend’s battle between Mercedes and Red Bull?”

She hummed, tapping her finger against her chin. “Well, obviously I want us to win. But I do love a challenge.”

The reporter smiled. “You don’t mind things getting a little… competitive?”

Y/n glanced at Toto.

And then, before she could second-guess it, she reached out and straightened his tie.

Toto froze.

Everyone saw it. The reporters, the cameramen, the entire paddock. His smirk didn’t drop, but his eyes—his eyes told a different story.

Y/n smoothed her hand down his chest, feigning innocence. “I thrive in competition,” she said sweetly.

Toto inhaled sharply.

She smirked.

This time, he was the one left standing there, speechless, as she walked away.

By the time the press conference rolled around, the paddock knew.

George nudged Lewis. “She’s flipping the game on him.”

Lewis grinned. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

Y/n took her seat next to Toto, crossing her legs slowly, deliberately, watching as his gaze flickered downward before he caught himself.

When Christian Horner started talking—some nonsense about Red Bull dominance—she leaned in toward Toto, close enough that only he could hear.

“Do you ever get tired of him?” she murmured.

Toto huffed a quiet laugh. “Every day.”

She tilted her head, watching him out of the corner of her eye. “Maybe next time, I should sit on your lap instead. Just so he knows his place.”

Toto stiffened.

His hand clenched on the table.

For the first time ever, she had made him squirm.

And damn, it felt good.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Y/n vs. Lando’s Simulator Addiction

Word count: 620

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Y/n is tired of Lando prioritizing his sim racing over romantic dates.

________________________________________________________

Y/n leaned against the doorway of Lando’s gaming room, arms crossed, watching him with an unimpressed expression. His eyes were glued to the triple monitors, fingers effortlessly working the wheel and pedals as if his life depended on it. The sound of tires screeching and engines roaring filled the room.

This had become their routine. Lando had free time? Straight to the sim. Morning? Sim. Afternoon? Sim. Midnight? Still sim. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate his dedication—God, she loved how passionate he was—but she was starting to feel like she was competing with a machine for his attention.

“You know,” she finally spoke, making Lando flinch slightly, “I think I deserve some quality time that doesn’t involve me watching you pretend to drive a car.”

Lando barely spared her a glance. “Babe, this isn’t pretending. It’s training.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Training for what?”

“This is serious business,” he said, still hyper-focused. “You wouldn’t get it.”

Oh, that did it. Y/n straightened, jaw tightening. He wouldn’t get away with dismissing her like that.

“Okay, McSimBoy. Let’s make a bet,” she declared.

That finally got his attention. Lando paused the game and turned to her with a smirk. “Oh? You wanna bet me? On the sim? You’ve never even raced before.”

“Exactly,” she said, playing up her inexperience. “So, if I win, you owe me five romantic dates. I get to pick them, and no complaining.”

Lando laughed, tilting his head back. “This is the easiest bet I’ve ever made. And when I win?”

Y/n shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

He grinned. “Alright, then. You’re on.”

What Lando didn’t know was that Y/n had been training in secret for weeks—with none other than Max Verstappen as her coach.

“You know,” Max had said during their first training session, “this might be the most fun I’ve had in years.”

Y/n huffed, gripping the wheel as she tried to keep up with him on the Red Bull simulator. “I don’t know if I should be flattered or scared.”

“A bit of both,” Max smirked.

Every day, Y/n had dedicated hours to perfecting her skills, learning everything from racing lines to braking techniques. Max was relentless, but she loved every second of it. The best part? Lando had no clue.

Lando sat in his usual seat, all confidence, fingers flexing over the wheel. Y/n took her place beside him, cool and composed.

“Ready to lose, love?” he teased.

She simply smiled. “We’ll see.”

The lights went out, and the race began.

Within the first lap, Lando was concerned. By the second lap, he was nervous. And by the third? He was absolutely terrified.

Y/n was fast—not just “surprisingly good” fast, but “how the hell did you get this fast?” fast. She nailed every corner, executed flawless overtakes, and blocked him with zero hesitation.

Lando, gripping the wheel in disbelief, finally shouted, “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!”

Y/n grinned. “Guess I do get it after all.”

Max, watching the whole thing from Y/n’s phone on FaceTime, burst out laughing. “Lando, mate, you’re getting cooked!”

Lando’s eyes widened. “MAX?! YOU TRAINED WITH MAX?!”

“Oops,” Y/n said playfully. “Forgot to mention that part.”

Despite his best efforts, Lando couldn’t recover. Y/n crossed the finish line first, throwing her hands up in victory.

“YES! YOU OWE ME FIVE DATES!” she cheered.

Lando sat back in defeat, running a hand down his face. “This is the most betrayed I’ve ever felt.”

Y/n leaned in, pecking his cheek. “You’ll live. Now, start planning date number one.”

And just like that, the simulator had finally lost its grip on Lando Norris.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Toto’s Guard Dog – Part 3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

Word count: 420

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader

Summary: Y/n continues her ruthless campaign against The Hobbit, but when a reporter questions her devotion to Toto.

________________________________________________________

Y/n was losing her goddamn mind.

It had been two days since Toto texted her Good girl, and she had not known peace since.

Every time her phone buzzed, she jumped. Every time she heard his voice in the garage, her stomach did a little flip. Every time he looked at her, her brain short-circuited like a teenage girl in a Wattpad fanfic.

And the worst part?

He knew.

Oh, that smug Austrian knew.

Because now, Toto was having fun with it.

The subtle touches? The lingering glances? The slightly-too-low murmurs of “Come, schatzi” when he wanted her to follow him somewhere?

He was playing a game.

And Y/n was losing.

Her downward spiral came to a head during the next race weekend.

It started off normally—meaning she made fun of Christian Horner at least three times before noon.

First, she tweeted:

“Watching The Hobbit talk about cost caps is so funny. Like sir, weren’t you just on trial?”

Then, when he walked by in the paddock, she turned to Carmen Mundt and said, loudly, “Is it just me, or does Christian Horner have the energy of a man who peaked in high school?”

And finally, during a press conference, when a reporter asked Horner about his thoughts on Toto, Y/n let out a very obvious fake yawn from the Mercedes side of the room.

It was perfect.

But then came the interview.

She had just finished hyping up Lewis when the Sky Sports reporter smirked at her. “So, Y/n, you’ve become quite the defender of Toto Wolff this season. A real… guard dog, if you will.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Someone has to keep The Hobbit in check.”

The reporter laughed. “And Toto? What does he think about it?”

Y/n opened her mouth—then shut it.

Because suddenly, she felt it.

A presence.

His presence.

She turned her head just in time to see Toto standing a few feet away, watching her with that infuriating smirk, arms crossed, looking like a man who thoroughly enjoyed being talked about.

“Oh, he loves it,” she said before she could stop herself.

The reporter raised an eyebrow. “Loves it?”

Y/n locked eyes with Toto.

His smirk deepened.

And before she could chicken out, she smiled.

“Of course,” she said, tilting her head. “He’s obsessed with me.”

Toto huffed out a laugh, shaking his head as he walked off.

And Y/n?

Y/n realized—

She might not just be Toto’s guard dog.

She might be his favorite one, too.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Ultimate Glow-Up – Part 2

Part 1

Word count: 704

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando is thrilled to reunite with his childhood best friend Y/n – until he realizes she has a boyfriend

________________________________________________________

Lando was, without a doubt, experiencing a full system malfunction.

Because Y/n—his childhood best friend, his former awkward-phase companion, the same girl who used to send him Minecraft memes at 3 AM—was giggling at something Oscar said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and Lando was standing there like a complete idiot, staring at her like she’d just walked out of a damn movie.

This was not fair.

“Earth to Lando.” Y/n waved a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his trance. “You okay? You look like you just got hit with a blue shell.”

Lando blinked. “I—yeah, no, totally fine. Just—” Just having a minor crisis because I think I might have a crush on you now, and that’s really inconvenient, actually.

He cleared his throat. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

She grinned. “Yeah, well, I was in town, and I thought, ‘Hey, why not check out the Grand Prix and see if my old best friend is still driving in circles for a living?’”

Lando rolled his eyes. “Wow. You make it sound so impressive.”

“Oh, it is.” Y/n nodded, dead serious. “So impressive that I even convinced my friend to tag along. Speaking of which…”

She turned and gestured to someone behind her. Lando was too busy fighting a ridiculous smile to process what she’d said, so when he looked up and saw some ridiculously tall, broad-shouldered, objectively good-looking guy walking over—with his arm around Y/n’s waist—he almost had an aneurysm.

“Oh,” Lando blurted out. “Who’s this?”

Y/n, completely oblivious to the way Lando’s brain was short-circuiting, beamed. “This is Ethan! We met a few months ago. He’s the one who got me into F1, actually. Can you believe I never really watched it before?”

Lando could believe it, because back when they were kids, Y/n was much more interested in Redstone contraptions than racing cars. But at the moment, the only thing his brain could focus on was the fact that Ethan—this guy—was standing way too close to her.

Lando plastered on a smile. “Ethan. Right. Nice to meet you.”

Ethan, to his credit, seemed nice enough. He reached out for a handshake, and Lando shook his hand, possibly a little too hard.

“So, you two have known each other for a while?” Ethan asked.

Lando forced a laugh. “Oh yeah. Since we were kids. She used to kick my ass in every game we played.”

Y/n laughed. “Still would, if you ever picked up a controller again.”

Lando opened his mouth to say something smug in response, but then Ethan did the unthinkable.

He leaned down and kissed Y/n’s temple.

Lando’s brain completely flatlined.

Nope. No. Absolutely not.

This was a disaster. A catastrophe. A red flag moment.

Because surely—surely—Y/n wouldn’t have just shown up looking like a walking dream, obliterated Lando’s ability to form coherent thoughts, and then casually introduced him to her boyfriend. Right?

Right???

Y/n, still blissfully unaware of Lando’s inner turmoil, looked up at Ethan with an affectionate smile. “I was just telling Lando how you got me into F1.”

Ethan grinned. “Yeah, took some convincing, but once she saw a few races, she was hooked.”

Lando wanted to argue that he had been talking about F1 for years, but apparently, it had taken Ethan to get her interested? Unbelievable.

Oscar, who had been standing off to the side watching this unfold like it was a Netflix drama, finally decided to intervene. “Well, Y/n, since you’re here, you should let Lando show you around the paddock.”

Lando shot him a look that said Are you kidding me?

Oscar just smiled.

Y/n’s face lit up. “That would be amazing!” She turned to Ethan. “What do you think?”

Ethan nodded. “Go for it. I’ll grab us some drinks and meet you later.”

Lando’s stomach twisted uncomfortably, but he pushed it down. He wasn’t jealous. He refused to be jealous.

Because Y/n was his best friend. That’s all.

Even if she looked like that now.

Even if her laugh made his heart do stupid things.

Even if he kind of, sort of, really wanted to be the one kissing her temple instead.

Yeah.

Lando was so screwed.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Toto’s Guard Dog – Part 2

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Word count: 411

Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader

Summary: Y/n’s relentless war against The Hobbit reaches new heights

________________________________________________________

Y/n was in trouble.

Not with Christian Horner—because please, when was she ever worried about him? No, her problem was Toto Wolff. Specifically, the way he’d looked at her after calling her good girl and then just walked away like he hadn’t single-handedly sent her into a crisis.

It had been a week since that moment, and she still hadn’t recovered.

Every time he passed by, every time his hand lingered on her lower back in the garage, every time he so much as smirked in her direction, her brain betrayed her with thoughts.

And to make matters worse, everyone had noticed.

“She’s malfunctioning,” Lewis whispered to George one afternoon, watching Y/n freeze like a deer in headlights as Toto adjusted his watch, his shirt sleeve rolling up just enough to reveal his forearms.

“She’s down bad,” George whispered back.

“I am not,” Y/n hissed.

Lewis raised an eyebrow. “You just dropped your phone in your coffee.”

Y/n looked down. Her phone was indeed floating in her coffee.

Shit.

Meanwhile, Horner was still running his mouth.

“She’s obsessed with me,” he said in an interview, smug as ever. “I don’t know what her deal is. Maybe she wishes she was in the Red Bull garage instead.”

That was the last straw.

Y/n stormed onto Twitter.

“The Hobbit thinking I want to be in his garage is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. Bro, I don’t even want to be in the same country as him.”

It didn’t stop there.

During the next race weekend, she made a show of spraying perfume around the Mercedes hospitality suite before a press conference. When someone asked what she was doing, she sighed dramatically.

“Christian walked by earlier,” she said. “Trying to get the stench out.”

The clip went viral in minutes.

By the time the press conference started, Max was crying from laughter, Lando could barely contain himself, and Charles—sweet, diplomatic Charles—hid his face in his hands, shaking his head.

And Toto?

Toto just sat there, arms crossed, watching Y/n with a smirk like she was his favorite show.

That night, Y/n was going through her mentions when she got a text.

Toto: You know, it’s starting to look like you’re obsessed with me instead.

Her breath hitched.

She stared at her phone. Then—

Y/n: Maybe I am.

…

…

Three dots appeared.

Then disappeared.

Then appeared again.

And finally—

Toto: Good girl.

Y/n dropped her phone.

Again.