#toto

Toto Wolff had always thought he understood fear.

He’d lived through title deciders, last‑lap crashes, engines blowing up in championship fights, and the kind of pressure that made grown men shake. But none of that—none of it—came close to the feeling of standing on the causeway at Kennedy Space Center, sunglasses doing nothing to hide the way his eyes kept darting between the countdown clock and the towering white rocket that held his entire world inside it.

You.

His wife.

One of the first women in history to leave low Earth orbit and fly around the Moon.

He should’ve been proud. He was proud. But pride was a thin shield against the cold, creeping terror that had lived in his chest since the day you were selected for Artemis II.

And today, as the Mercedes team gathered around him—Lewis, George, the mechanics, the comms staff—he felt like he was made of glass.

Someone behind him whispered, “Challenger was at T‑73 seconds.”

Toto flinched.

He remembered that day. Everyone did. A tragedy that should never have happened. A wound that still lived in the bones of NASA, in the bones of anyone who loved someone brave enough to leave the planet.

He swallowed hard, jaw tight.

“Don’t,” he said quietly. “Not today.”

Lewis stepped closer, resting a hand on Toto’s shoulder. “She’s safe. This is Artemis. This is different.”

Toto nodded, but his fingers were trembling.

He kept refreshing the NASA live updates on his phone anyway. He’d been doing it for months—during debriefs, during simulator sessions, during strategy meetings. He’d pretend he was checking emails, but everyone knew. The entire garage had learned to live with the constant ping of NASA notifications.

They didn’t mind. They loved you. You were the only person on Earth who could walk into the garage and make Toto unclench his jaw.

And now you were strapped into a rocket.

---

INSIDE ORION — T‑10 MINUTES

You and Christina Koch were already vibing.

NASA had decided to play music during the final checks, and when the opening notes of Pink Pony Club came through the cabin speakers, you both screamed.

“NO WAY,” you laughed, helmet mic crackling. “They did not.”

Christina was already dancing in her seat as much as the harness allowed. “They KNOW us.”

You were halfway through a dramatic shoulder shimmy when the music cut off abruptly—right before the chorus.

Both of you froze.

“Absolutely not,” Christina said.

“Call Houston,” you demanded. “I’m filing a complaint.”

“Artemis II, this is Houston,” the CAPCOM said, trying not to laugh. “We’re… uh… saving the chorus for orbit.”

You and Christina booed them.

---

LAUNCH

The engines ignited.

The ground shook.

Toto’s heart stopped.

The rocket rose—slow, impossibly slow—before it began to climb with purpose, fire and thunder trailing behind it.

The Mercedes team held their breath as one.

Lewis whispered, “Come on, come on…”

George had his hands clasped like he was praying.

Toto didn’t blink. Not once.

And when the boosters separated cleanly, when the second stage lit, when the call came—

“Orion is in nominal trajectory.”

—Toto finally exhaled, shoulders collapsing with relief.

“She’s not even at the Moon yet,” Toto muttered, but he was smiling.

---

THE MISSION

For the next ten days, Toto lived on NASA updates.

He watched every press briefing. He memorised every trajectory diagram. He knew the exact timestamp of every planned burn. He had the livestream open on his phone during qualifying, during strategy meetings, during lunch.

The mechanics started giving him space-themed snacks.

Someone put a cardboard cutout of you in the garage.

Lewis kept saying, “Boss, she’s literally circling the Moon. She’s fine.”

But Toto didn’t relax until he saw the footage of you and Christina floating in Orion, hair drifting, faces glowing with the reflected light of the lunar surface.

You were laughing.

You were safe.

You were alive.

And when you said, “Hi, Toto,” into the camera, he had to turn away so the team wouldn’t see his eyes shining.

---

RE‑ENTRY DAY

This was worse than launch.

Much worse.

Because Challenger wasn’t the only ghost in the room. Columbia lived here too—another tragedy that should never have happened, another reminder that spaceflight was never safe, no matter how many decades passed.

The entire Mercedes garage gathered around the screens. No one worked. No one pretended to.

They watched the fiery streak of Orion tearing through the atmosphere.

Toto’s hands were shaking.

Lewis whispered, “Come on, Mrs. Wolff…”

George crossed himself.

The mechanics held hands.

And Toto—Toto felt like his heart was being peeled open.

Then—

SPLASHDOWN CONFIRMED.

The room exploded.

It sounded like they’d won the championship. People screamed, hugged, jumped, cried. Someone set off a confetti cannon they definitely weren’t supposed to have.

Toto just stood there, head bowed, hands over his face.

Relief hit him like a tidal wave.

“She’s home,” he whispered.

---

THE REUNION

You were still unsteady on your feet when they finally let Toto into the recovery area, but you didn’t care. You practically launched yourself at him, legs wobbling, arms tight around his neck.

He caught you instantly.

He buried his face in your shoulder.

“You’re here,” he said, voice breaking. “You’re here, my love.”

You laughed softly. “I told you I’d come home.”

He pulled back just enough to cup your face. “You flew around the Moon.”

“And?”

“And I aged ten years.”

You kissed him.

---

THE PADDOCK

When you finally returned to the paddock—still walking carefully, still adjusting to gravity—the Mercedes garage erupted again.

Mechanics ran to hug you. Engineers asked a thousand questions. Lewis lifted you off the ground. George asked if the Moon smelled weird.

And Toto?

Toto was insufferable.

He had his arm around you, chest puffed out, grin unstoppable.

“This is my wife,” he told anyone who would listen. “One of the first women to fly around the Moon.”

He said it to journalists.

He said it to rival team principals.

He said it to a confused Ferrari intern who definitely didn’t ask.

At one point he announced, loudly, “She is braver than all of you combined.”

You elbowed him. “Stop bragging.”

“Never,” he said, kissing your temple. “You circled the Moon. I am allowed.”

The team agreed.

You were their hero.

You were Toto’s heart.

And you were finally, blessedly, safely home.

ORIGINAL REQUEST:

Hi!! I saw your Max Verstappen x Astronaut! reader fix and I absolutely love it! I really love your work! I was wondering if you can also do a Toto Wolff x astronaut!reader too? Like she's also part of the Artemis Il crew (she and Christina are basically the first women to leave low Earth orbit and to fly around the Moon). Like Toto and the Mercedes family are watching the launch and they are literally nervous (please mention to Challenger that disaster was a tragedy and should have never happened) and scared of that happening of Artemis Il especially Toto because he didn't want to lose his wife. I would love to see Toto just checking up on NASA updates about the Artemis II (also include a scene where NASA played "Pink Pony Club" for Artemis Il and Christina and reader are vibing to the song but we're outraged when they cut it before the chorus and demanded to call NASA about it if you know the video). And when it was the day Artemis Il descends back to Earth, Toto was extremely scared and the entire Mercedes garage just watched the descent on the news (because they love Mrs. Wolff since she's the only one who can calm him down hehe) and they prayed that it would turn alright (please also mention Columbia too ) but they all cheered as if they won the championship when Artemis Il landed safely in the ocean. Toto and his wife reunite and they show up to the paddock after reader gets used to Earth's gravity again and Toto just brags that his wife is one of the first women to fly around the Moon and stuff.

Sorry if it's too long I really love your work and couldn't wait to see more! Thank you!

ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ - ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ.