❥ i’m ellen but i usually go by rose, i’m twenty-two and i’m british
❥ i am always open for a chat even if my requests are not open. while this is primarily an f1 account, i value other hobbies, fixations and most importantly mental health
❥ i recently got diagnosed with pots and i struggle on a day to day basis. it was only after my diagnosis that i got into f1 so i am still fairly new
❥ i this blog is a no hate zone. anyone bullying, hating or just being generally mean will be blocked. this is a safe space for everyone
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Summary: You're driving to the restaurant where your boyfriend is waiting for you to celebrate your anniversary. But you get involved in the car accident and he comes for the rescue.
Warnings: angst, minor car accident, mentions of shock and distress, fluff and lovely care
Word count: 1.1k
A/N: I had to regulate myself through writing this, because i feel so fucking pissed at the fact that my car got hit yesterday and it wasn't a very pleasant feeling. Luckily, I'm okay, it was just a minor bump, but the impact left me in a little bit of shock and i wish i wasn't alone to deal with these situations. Drive safe <3
Toto insisted on sending a driver for you to pick you up for your anniversary dinner, but you had your own stubborn mind on driving your car, the one you loved, the precious one you bought with your money.
The day was perfect, the sun setting, you drove down the streets of Monaco, with a smile on your face, excited to meet your man.
When suddenly, as you were slowing into the lane of cars, the huge impact vibrated through the car, your hands gripping the steering wheel tight and your head went back into the headrest.
For a brief moment you were disoriented, your sight blurry as you blinked twice to regain control of the situation.
Stopping the car, you unbuckled your seat belt, hands already shaking, ears ringing.
Getting out, you could see a driver of the car that hit yours already on the street, trying to gather how bad the damage was. Spotting you, his eyes went wide, face pale and he panicked.
“I’m so sorry! I’m sorry— I was distracted and— I’m sorry.”
His frantic words just echoed in your mind, your gaze turned to the rear of your car.
The bumper was really impacted and cracked, your blood was boiling because you hated anything to happen to your beloved vehicle.
Then you looked at the man, his car didn’t have a single scratch.
Unfair. Really.
Toto sat at the restaurant, stealing glances at his expensive watch, furrowing his brows at the fact that you were late.
You were the one who was always perfectly on time and he was growing a little bit worried.
“Sorry. Incident.”
The message from you came through and his eyes went a little wide, he immediately called you. But it didn’t go through.
Scrolling through his phone to see where your location pinged for the last time, he headed out to his car, paying for the whole dinner while he was on his way.
His chest was tight, it was like the elephant was sitting there, that’s how he was afraid of your wellbeing.
Taking a turn to the right, he noticed a police car parked at the right side of the street, officers taking pictures and scribbling down something when there stood a man and you. Unharmed, but surely shaken, staring into a void.
Your eyes captured a black sleek Mercedes, the one Toto used for the romantic getaways when he wanted to look powerful and cocky.
Well, this wasn’t the time.
Slamming the door, Toto rushed towards you, your lips already quivering with all the emotions that went through you.
With his arms wrapped around you, he kissed the top of your head, his gaze scanning the people who were taking care of the accident.
The man who caused it stood there defeated and scared, he was truly sorry.
You sighed into Toto’s chest, clutching his shirt tight, like a little lamb.
“Are you okay, liebes?” he finally asked, pulling away slightly to cup your face, looking for any possible injuries.
“I’m okay. I’m– but my car…” The tears welled in your eyes, you didn’t understand how someone could be so careless and hurt your precious car.
“Shhh… We’re gonna figure it out. It’s okay, you are brave, you did so well.” Bringing you back on his chest, he caressed your hair, comforting you through your distressed sighs. You weren’t crying, not here, not in public.
Toto led you to sit in his car, then he went over to the officers to chat with them, they were so amazed that Toto Wolff himself was there on the scene, handling the car of his girlfriend. The man who was the one responsible for the mess, apologised to him many times as he did to you, he truly showed remorse.
After another twenty minutes, it was done, Toto called in an insurance company, the towing service coming to get your car safely to the nearby car workshop. He took care of everything so you didn’t have to.
Driving you home safely, Toto turned off the engine being parked in the underground garage at your shared house.
Turning to face you, he caught your small smile, the grateful joy written all over your face.
“I won’t let you drive alone from now on.”
You furrowed your brows a little. “Why? I’m capable of driving myself around, in my car.”
“I want you to use my driver. Whatever and whenever you need. It’s for your service. And when something happens, let him handle the things and just call me.” His large hand cupped your cheek, his face features softening in the way only you were allowed to see.
“Does it mean I can’t have my own car anymore? You know how much I love it, how much it means to me.” And again, your lip wobbled with sadness.
“Liebes… I know. I don’t want you to deny you your possessions, but… We’re gonna get it repaired, you’re gonna keep it. But whenever you’d drive it, I’m gonna be with you. I’m just too scared.” Toto sighed, trying to address his worries to not upset you more than you already were.
Glancing into your lap you hummed, wiping the tears with the back of your hand.
“I know what you mean. I want to be safe too, especially now when the public knows we live together. And anything can happen.”
“Yeah.”
He laced his fingers with yours and leaned closer to you to kiss your forehead.
“Look, we don’t have to have it all decided right now at this moment. We will see. But I want to do everything that’s in my power to have you alright and well.”
“I understand. And I love you for that.” you let out a relieved breath and a smile played on your lips.
Your figure was wrapped in the sheets in your shared bed, the moment your head hit the pillow you fell asleep from the sheer exhaustion of the incident.
Toto slid under the covers next to you, placing a gentle kiss on your bare shoulder, pulling you against his chest. He held you, basking in the fact that you were okay, in his arms, all warm and thrumming with life. Lips hovering over your hair, he breathed in your scent, his heart fluttering with affection so deep it hurt.
Even though today’s accident was a minor one, he’d do anything to protect you from the incompetence of others.
His mind wandered to the thing he had planned for today’s evening, for your anniversary.
Smiling at the memory of what was in the box of his blazer in the hallway, he closed his eyes with utmost joy he felt at the idea of finally proposing to you in the morning.
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❀ summary: toto finds out after months that his partner stopped taking her medication
❀ warnings: reader has schizophrenia and has stopped taking her medication
❀ authors note: n/a
❀ schizophrenia: a chronic brain disorder that affects thinking, perception, emotions and behaviour, often involving hallucinations, delusions and disorganised thoughts
endurance masterlist
The first thing Toto noticed was that she had stopped sleeping.
Not completely. Just enough that it caught his attention.
He would wake in the middle of the night and find her side of the bed empty, the house filled with the soft glow of the television downstairs. When he came to find her, she would always be sitting on the sofa with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, insisting she simply wasn’t tired.
At first, he believed her.
The Formula One season was relentless, not just for him, but for the people who loved him too. He was leaving before sunrise most mornings and returning long after dark, exhausted and distracted, his mind still half at Brackley even when he was physically home.
She worked from home. Long hours, difficult clients, deadlines that seemed to multiply every week. Stress was hardly unusual.
Still, something felt different.
She startled more easily.
The television was always on, even when she wasn’t watching it. Music played constantly in rooms she wasn’t using. Sometimes he would walk into the kitchen and find her standing perfectly still, staring at nothing in particular, only for her to jump when she realised he was there.
“Schatz?”
She blinked rapidly. “Sorry. You surprised me.”
He frowned.
“You did not hear me come in?”
“No.” She offered him a small smile. “I was distracted.”
He accepted the explanation.
Because he had no reason not to.
Toto had known about her schizophrenia from almost the beginning of their relationship. It had been one of those difficult, vulnerable conversations people had when they were beginning to realise that this might become something serious.
She had explained her diagnosis nervously, as though waiting for him to decide it was too much.
Instead, he had simply asked what she needed from him.
She had laughed through her tears.
It had never changed how he saw her.
Over the years, she had been stable. She attended appointments, took her medication, recognised when she was struggling and asked for help when she needed it.
So when things started changing, it never occurred to him that she might have stopped taking her medication.
Why would it?
As far as he knew, everything was being managed.
The second thing he noticed was the locks.
Every evening when he came home, the front door would already be locked.
Sometimes, he would find her checking them again while dinner cooked.
“Liebling,” he said gently one evening, watching as she tested the handle for the fourth time. “The door is locked.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you checking?”
She shrugged without looking at him. “Just making sure.”
He watched her for a long moment longer as something twisted uncomfortably in her chest.
It was only later, lying in bed beside her, that he realised she had started positioning herself so she could see the bedroom door.
The realisations sat heavily with him.
“Are you anxious or something?” He asked softly.
She was quiet for a moment. “A little.”
He reached for her hand beneath the duvet. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
He didn’t push but perhaps he should have.
The season grew busier as Mercedes started to struggle.
Toto spent more nights at the factory than he cared to admit, returning home exhausted and distracted. Every time guilt surfaced, she reassured him immediately.
“I’m fine,” she would insist. “Honestly.”
And because he wanted to believe her, he did.
Until that Thursday in May.
A meeting had been cancelled unexpectedly, allowing Toto to leave Brackley earlier than planned. He arrived home shortly after four in the afternoon, expecting to find her working in her office.
Instead, the apartment was silent. Unnaturally so.
There was no television, no music, nothing.
“Schatz?” He called as he stepped inside.
No answer.
Concern prickled immediately.
He found her in the living room, sitting on the floor beside the sofa, knees pulled tightly against her chest
She looked terrified.
“Toto.”
His heart dropped.
He crossed the room instantly.
“Mein Engel, what happened?”
For a moment, she just stared at him, then her eyes filled with tears.
“I thought you were still at work.”
The answer made no sense.
“Schatz–”
“Please don’t be angry.”
Fear settled cold and sharp in his stomach.
“Why would I be angry?”
She looked away, and suddenly he knew.
“When did you stop taking your medication?”
She froze and silence stretched between them for too long.
“Oh my God,” Toto whispered.
Reluctantly, she whispered, “A few months ago.”
He felt as though the air had been knocked from his lungs.
“Months?”
She nodded once, tears spilling over.
“I was fine at first.”
“Schatz–”
“I was.” Her voice cracked. “I hated the side effects, Toto. I was tired all the time and I couldn’t think properly and I just wanted to feel like myself again,”
He closed his eyes briefly.
“When were you planning to tell me?”
“I wasn’t”
The answer hurt him more than he expected.
“Why?”
“You were busy.”
Toto stared at her.
“That is not an answer.”
“You were already dealing with so much.” Tears ran freely down her face now. “Merecedes was struggling and you were stressed and I thought I could handle it.”
“You thought wrong.” The words came out sharper than he intended.
She flinched and regret hit him immediately.
Toto exhaled slowly and forced himself to soften.
“No,” he said quietly, moving closer. “No, that’s not what I mean.”
She wouldn’t look at him. “I didn’t want to be another problem.”
The confession shifted something inside him. He reached for her carefully, waiting until she allowed it before taking her hands.
“Do you really believe there is a version of this where I would rather you suffer alone than ask me for help?”
That was a hard question because she honestly didn’t know what to believe anymore. Fresh tears slipped down her cheeks.
“I didn’t know what else to do.”
Toto’s chest ached. “How long have the voices been worse?”
She hesitated. “After a few weeks.”
“And you have been managing alone.”
A tiny nod.
He looked away briefly, overwhelmed by the thought.
Weeks.
She had been frightened and struggling and alone in their home for weeks while he had been obsessing over lap times and upgrades.
“Toto?”
He looked back immediately.
“I’m sorry.”
His expression crumpled. “Schatz, you do not need to apologise for being unwell.”
“But I lied.”
“Yes.”
She winced.
“But I understand why,” he continued.
Slowly, he pulled her into his arms. She came immediately, clinging to him with an exhaustion that frightened him.
“I’m scared,” she admitted.
“I know.”
“The voices won’t stop.”
Toto rested his cheek against her hair. “Okay.”
She frowned slightly. “Okay?”
“Yes.” His hand moved slowly up and down her back. “You are hearing voices right now?”
She nodded.
“Are they frightening?”
Another nod.
“Alright.” His voice remained calm and steady. “Stay with me for a moment.”
Her breathing was uneven. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” He squeezed her hand gently as he gave her one of his jumpers from the arm of the couch for her to hold. “Tell me five things you can see.”
She blinked.
“Toto–”
“Five things.”
Slowly and shakily, she looked around.
“The sofa, the coffee table, you, the television and books.”
“Good.”
They went through all her other senses as she held his jumper, running her thumb over the cashmere. When they finished, Toto brushed damp hair back from her face.
“You’re safe,” he said quietly. “And tomorrow, we are calling your doctor.”
She looked terrified.
He squeezed her hand again.
“You are not doing this alone anymore.”
That was when she started crying properly. And this time, Toto held her through every second of it.
hi! if you can’t see your request it could be because the chronic illness has already been written for that driver or you didn’t submit through the form. ❤️
I know your requests are closed!! but would you ever consider doing a fic about borderline personality disorder for your endurance series? BPD is super misunderstood but I know a lot of people with it would love to be able to read a fic where someone with BPD is loved gently and wholly!
hi anon!
so it is quite far down the list but i do have a oscar piastri one where the reader has bpd. if you want another driver, feel free to request when they are open again ❤️
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
❀ summary: toto notices when his wife begins to have a manic episode
❀ warnings: reader has bipolar 1 disorder
❀ authors note: last time i wrote for bipolar 1 i had some advice that it wasn't quite right, so i've taken that on board and tried to improve for this fic
❀ bipolar 1 disorder: a mental health condition characterised by extreme mood swings, including episodes of mania (high energy, impulsivity) and depression
endurance masterlist
It started so gradually that neither of them could have pointed to the exact moment things changed.
At first, it simply felt like a good week.
She had more energy and more motivation. The endless list of tasks that had been sitting untouched on her desk for weeks suddenly seemed manageable, almost easy. Emails were answered within minutes instead of days. Reports were finished ahead of schedule. Her office at Brackley, usually a controlled sort of chaos, became immaculate overnight.
People noticed.
“You’re on fire this week,” one of the engineers told her with an impressed grin after she had solved an issue that had been frustrating the department for days.
She smiled and thanked him, warmth blooming pleasantly in her chest.
Because she did feel good. Better than good, actually.
She felt capable.
Everything seemed sharper somehow. Ideas connected effortlessly, conversations moved at the perfect speed, and for the first time in months she felt as though her brain was finally working with her instead of against her.
It wasn’t until the fourth night that Toto noticed something was wrong.
She was sitting at the kitchen island when he arrived home, laptop open, papers spread around her, still dressed in the same clothes she had worn to the factory that morning.
The clock on the oven read 1:47am.
Toto paused in the doorway. “You are still awake.”
She looked up immediately, smiling brightly. “I had an idea,”
He set his bag down slowly. “At nearly two in the morning?”
“I know, but listen–” She turned the laptop towards him before he could protest. “I was looking at the staffing schedules and realised there are three different inefficiencies between departments. If we reorganised the workflow slightly, we could probably reduce turnaround times by at least fifteen percent.”
Toto blinked.
The proposal on the screen was thorough. Impressively so.
But something about the scene unsettled him.
“When did you eat dinner?”
She frowned slightly. “I had lunch.”
His concern sharpened. “That was not my question.”
She waved her hand dismissively. “I’m not hungry.”
Toto studied her for a moment longer. There was colour high in her cheeks, a brightness in her eyes that seemed almost unnatural at that hour.
“How much sleep have you had this week?”
She laughed.
“I’m fine, Toto.”
That wasn’t an answer but he didn’t push. Not yet.
***
Over the next few days, the changes became harder to ignore.
She spoke and moved faster. Her thoughts seemed to outrun everyone else’s, conversations skipping so quickly from one subject to another that even Toto, as her husband, occasionally struggled to follow.
She started new projects before finishing old ones. Order books she was convinced would change everything. Rearranged the entire guest room at three o’clock in the morning because she had suddenly decided it should become an office.
And she slept much less.
By the end of the week, Toto was fairly certain she hadn’t slept more than three hours a night.
The problem was that she had never seemed happier.
She laughed more and touched him constantly as they moved around their house, kissing his cheek in passing, and pulling him into spontaneous conversations about ideas she was desperate to share.
Part of him hated being worried when she looked so alive.
The other part knew better.
They were eating breakfast one morning when she announced it, entirely casually, “I think we should buy a house in Tuscany.
Toto looked up from his coffee. “A house.”
“Yes.” She nodded enthusiastically. “I’ve been looking at properties online and honestly, the prices aren’t terrible. We could renovate it ourselves.”
“Tuscany,” he repeated carefully.
“Mmhm.”
“We both work in Formula One.”
“Exactly. That’s why we need somewhere peaceful.”
Toto was quiet for a moment. “When did you last sleep?”
Her expression shifted immediately. “Oh, not this again.”
“You did not answer.”
“Because it is irrelevant.”
“No,” Toto said softly. “I do not think it is.”
The atmosphere changed instantly. She pushed her chair back, irritation flashing across her face.
“I knew this was coming.”
Toto remained seated.
“Coming?”
“You almost do this.” She folded her arms tightly. “The second I’m happy, everyone gets worried.”
He exhaled gently. “That’s not what this is.”
“Isn’t it?” Her voice rose slightly. “I’m productive, I’m getting things done, I feel good, and suddenly everyone thinks there’s something wrong with me.”
“There is nothing wrong with you.”
“Then stop looking at me like that.”
Silence settled heavily between them.
Toto set his coffee cup down carefully before speaking quietly. “I am looking at you like someone who loves you.”
Her expression faltered.
“You have slept less than fifteen hours this week,” he continued gently. “You are barely eating. Your thoughts are moving so quickly that you cannot finish a conversation before starting another.”
She looked away.
“I feel fine.”
“I know.”
“And I don’t want this taken away from me.”
There it was. The real fear.
Toto stood slowly, crossing the kitchen until he stood in front of her.
“I am not trying to take anything away from you.”
“Then why does it feel like you are?”
He sighed.
“Because sometimes being ill feels good at first,” he said quietly. “And that makes it very difficult when the people who you love become afraid.”
Tears sprang unexpectedly to her eyes.
“I just…” She swallowed hard. “I finally feel like myself.”
Toto’s expression softened immediately as he reached for her hands.
“Schatz,” he said softly,” you do not only exist in your highs.”
The tears spilled over as Toto spoke.
He pulled her carefully against him as she finally started to cry.
“I know,” he murmured, one hand resting against the back of her head. “I know.”
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. She could feel her thoughts still moving too quickly, darting from one fear to the next even as she stood in his arms. The tears wouldn’t stop.
“I’m scared,” she admitted eventually, her voice muffled against his chest.
“I know.”
“I’m scared of the crash,” she whispered. “I’m scared of waking up and not feeling like this anymore.”
Toto was quiet for a moment before he gently cupped her face, encouraging her to look at him.
“Stay with me for a second,” he said softly.
She tried.
“Can you tell me where we are?”
She frowned slightly. “The kitchen.”
He nodded. “Good. And what day is it?”
“Thursday.”
“Good.” His thumbs brushed gently beneath her eyes, wiping away the tears there. “ANd right now, in this moment, are you safe>”
Her breathing was still uneven, but she nodded. “Yes.”
“Good,” he murmured. “Then we do not have to think about the crash today.”
Her chest tightened. “But what if–”
“No.” His voice remained gentle, but firm. “Today, you are here. I am here. You are safe, and you are not alone.”
Something in her shoulders loosened slightly.
Toto rested his forehead against hers.
“We will deal with tomorrow when it comes,” he said quietly. “You do not have to survive all of it tonight.”
And somehow, hearing him say it made the fear feel a little smaller.
