warnings -> boss x employee dynamic, slight power imbalance, angst, cursing, gg being a little bit of a brat, toto being down bad (he would do anything for his woman, and he means it!), sexual innuendos, yadayadayada
a/n -> hiiiii it's me! i'm back with another gg x toto installment. i'm sorry if the writing is not my best, i've been a little rusty. this fic was a request idea sent to me a few weeks ago. anon, this one is for you! i hope y'all enjoy reading about them! <3
"god fucking damnit!"
blood roars in his ears as her helmet collides against the wall, forming a sizable dent. paint chips flutter to the floor, the figure inhaling a sharp breath as curses roll from her tongue, the driver pacing back and forth.
"fuck, fuck, fuck!"
the figure's jaw clenches as her arm sweeps along the nearest table, sending items flying in her wake.
all right, that was it.
the final straw.
time to intervene.
"you need to cut it out. you're acting like a child. you of all people know tantrums get you nowhere."
at his sentiment, her head swivels, nothing but pure, fiery rage flickering about in her stare. strands of hair are plastered to her forehead, her lip curling into a sneer.
"your orders cost me two positions. it cost me a podium this weekend. i think i deserve to be a little upset about it."
"it's only the beginning of the season, love," toto wolff tuts, folding his arms across his chest, "you have time to make up for it. you have so much time to win the title."
at his statement, she pauses, her brows furrowing together. he can sense her fury dissolving by the second, her rigid muscles relaxing as her shoulders slump. silence creeps in as she crosses over to the couch, curling up in the fetal position.
to put it lightly, it was a tough opening weekend in melbourne.
not only did she have to deal with the wake of the loss to max, she had difficulty familiarizing herself with the new car. the media was in a frenzy, circling around like vultures every single time she moved or spoke. fuck, she could barely even breathe without a microphone close by.
toto couldn't imagine how draining it must have been to deal with it all. there was an instance over the weekend where a reporter inquired about their sex life. following that, there were numerous questions involving when he was going to propose, when they were planning on having kids, and if she would retire if they had children.
she executed a brilliant drive during qualifying, managing to snag the third position on the grid, just behind lando and max. if all went according to plan, she would be able to push past lando at the start of the race, and be able to battle it out with max for the victory.
at the start of the race, she drove beautifully. she was able to surge ahead and get past both max and lando, sailing into the first position.
it was going perfectly until lap twenty-three, where there was a mishap with the steering. following the error came a miscommunication with strategy. although toto knew the tires would last a few more laps, it was not his call to bring her in to the pits.
the pit crew was not quite ready, fumbling with two of the tires. it was a painfully slow stop, her radios reflecting exactly how toto felt about the fiasco.
the call for the early pit ultimately cost her three positions, which ended up crushing her hopes of a podium on opening weekend.
following the race, she exchanged some heated words with the media. something along the lines of, "fuck off or you're going to feel that boom mic up your ass." of course, that sent social media into a frenzy.
so, when she decided to release some pent up emotions in her driver's room after the race, toto let her.
he couldn't blame her, really. this weekend was an absolute shit show.
yet, he knew they had to move forward from it. the helmet could be replaced. the dent in the wall could be patched. the team strategy could be tweaked.
there was nothing he wanted more than to just wrap her up in his arms, bringing her tightly against his chest. he ached to just hold her, murmuring all of the reassurances she needed to hear. he yearned to just pepper her beautiful face with endless kisses, just to hear that melodic giggle ring in his ears.
he couldn't though.
at least, not yet.
the team principal stays put, waiting until she gives him the cue.
it wouldn’t be verbal. it would be the way her body would shift toward him, inviting him over. it would be the way her arms would droop, begging to be held.
it wouldn’t be too much longer. any minute now.
as expected, she practically sinks into the couch, pleading for some sort of comfort.
there it was, that cue he was desperately waiting for.
he strolls over, settling into the cushion next to her, wrapping an arm around her frame.
"i-i just wanted to get a head start," there's a tug at his heart as her voice falters, "i wanted to prove to everyone that i could compete with max this time. i just wanted to win a fucking race after what happened last ye-"
"my love," the team principal exhales, a tender hand connecting with her back, just between her shoulder blades, "you have to keep your head up. you are not a failure just because you didn't finish on that podium. you are not defined by what happened last season. things are different now, so much more different."
in the light, he catches the gleam of a tear as it rolls down her cheek, "i just know they're all talking about me. they want nothing more than to see me lose. i just wanted to prove them wrong."
"we have so much time do that," his voice is barely a murmur, "we will make you a champion, my sweet girl. don't worry about what they all think. focus on me. focus on us. focus on how we can correct our mistakes."
the tears are flowing now, the streams glistening as she sits up, pressing her body against his. her head nuzzles into his chest, lashes fluttering as his hand begins to roam, gently kneading into her sore muscles.
"i-i'm sorry."
the words are merely a whisper, but toto hears them.
"why are you apologizing, sweet girl?"
"for acting like a brat," she still won't meet his gaze, her eyes fixated on the door, "i shouldn't have thrown my helmet."
the team principal hums, his fingers treading along the zipper of her suit, "it's all right, love. i think you should do it again, actually."
"stop it," she huffs, rolling her eyes, "you just thought my little outburst was hot."
"quite," his mouth ghosts over her ear, "take that anger out on me, actually. you know, you're quite sexy when you're all riled up."
"maybe i will." the corners of her lips twitch, and toto can't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction.
she was fighting a smile, and fuck, was she fighting one hard.
carefully, she swings a thigh over his lap, straddling him as the tip of her nose brushes against his, "maybe i will take my anger out on you, toto. i want you to do something first, though."
in his khakis, he feels his cock stiffen, his throat tightening as she leans in even closer, "w-what is it, my love?"
fuck, he did he loathe how much power she held over him.
she cocks her head, a hand drifting to his cheek. her thumb trails along his cheekbone, relishing the way he completely crumbles under her touch.
"i want you to inform the fia that i will not be participating in any press for the next three races. will you do that for me?”
“sweet girl, you know i can’t do that—“
“please?” he can’t help but notice the way her bottom lip juts out ever so slightly.
all it would take is for her to bat those lashes once, and he would be done for.
and to his dismay, she does just that, “i just can’t handle the press right now. it’s too much and—“
“consider it done, my love. a statement will be out by the morning.”
“good boy,” she purrs, pressing her forehead against his, “you’re the best.”
“anything you want or need, it will be handled. i can promise you that. i will do everything in my power to make sure that you become champion.”
her lips press against his, a shiver running down his spine as she smirks, rolling her hips. it takes everything in his power to stifle a groan as her fingers delve into the waistband of his khakis, his cock throbbing.
she has him right where she wants him, but he doesn’t mind.
not. at. all.
she was his princess, after all.
and what his princess wanted, she got.
it only takes four words for him to come undone, any coherent thoughts slipping from his mind as her hand wraps around his shaft, his breaths coming out in pants.
"Cause I'm dying to melt through, to the heart of her molecules, till the particles part like holy water. If anything, she's an undiscovered element, either born in Hell or heaven-sent, either way, I'm into it."
