See, I Did Said That He's Slaying That Outfit🤌🏻🤌🏻✨

Never thought that one day I would fall for him (literally).. but I did and I glad🤭❤️

stolen glances and stormy gazes (dc14)

request by anon

✦ pairing - David Coulthard x female!reader

✦ genre - fluff, it's super long

The sun blazed over the Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya, the Spanish GP weekend bringing with it a flurry of excitement and a hint of drama. The Channel 4 studio, situated just a stone's throw away from the roaring engines and fervent fans, was abuzz with activity. Today’s broadcast was set to be a special one, with a panel that included the ever-charismatic Steve Jones, the insightful Mark Webber, the perpetually sunny Y/N, and the seasoned yet curmudgeonly David Coulthard.

As the broadcast started, the camaraderie among the presenters was palpable. Steve’s easy banter with Mark, Y/N’s radiant smile, and David’s focused demeanor created a vibrant atmosphere. But beneath the surface, a storm was brewing, and it was centered around one driver: Logan Sargeant.

"Welcome back to Channel 4’s coverage of the Spanish GP," Steve announced, his tone light and engaging. "Today, we’re diving into the ongoing debate about Logan Sargeant’s performance and treatment at Williams."

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with conviction. "Logan has been showing real potential. I think he’s been treated unfairly by the team. There’s been a lack of support and consistency that’s holding him back."

David’s jaw tightened. "I disagree. Logan’s had his chances, but performance is what matters. If he’s not delivering, it’s on him, not just the team."

The debate began as a friendly discussion but quickly escalated. Y/N leaned in, her voice tinged with frustration. "David, you’re not seeing the bigger picture here. It’s not just about raw numbers. It’s about how the team supports their drivers. Logan’s been left out to dry. His car has old part, now how can we expect him to perform with a carboard box of a car?"

David’s eyes narrowed, his gruff exterior barely concealing his irritation. "And you’re not seeing that F1 is cutthroat. It’s not a charity. If you can’t perform, you’re out. Logan needs to step up or accept the consequences."

Y/N’s face flushed with determination, her smile fading into a serious frown. "And if the support isn’t there, how can we expect him to perform at his best? It’s a two-way street, David."

Steve and Mark exchanged glances, sensing the conversation was veering into dangerously heated territory. David’s voice had taken on an edge, and Y/N’s passionate rebuttals only fueled the fire.

Mark tried to interject, his voice calm yet firm. "We should consider all aspects of the situation. It’s not just about one side or the other."

But Y/N was undeterred, her eyes locked onto David’s with an intensity that made the air around them crackle. "David, you’re so focused on the individual performance that you’re ignoring the broader context. It’s not all black and white."

David’s response was equally intense, his voice low and controlled. "And you’re romanticizing a situation that’s as harsh as it gets. It’s a tough world out there, and Logan needs to toughen up."

The atmosphere between them was electric, the debate clearly bordering on something far more personal. There was an unspoken tension that neither was willing to acknowledge, their bickering laced with a charged energy that was palpable.

Steve, sensing the imminent danger of the situation escalating further, stepped in with practiced ease. "Alright, alright, let’s take a breather here. We’ll cut to a quick ad break and come back to this. Everyone, stay tuned. This debate isn’t over yet."

As the camera cut to an ad, the studio fell into a brief, uneasy silence. Y/N and David exchanged lingering glances, each trying to process the conversation that had just transpired. The spark between them was undeniable, yet neither was willing to confront it head-on, leaving the air thick with unresolved tension.

The Spanish GP weekend was just beginning, and so was the ongoing drama between two of Channel 4’s most passionate presenters.

--

The roar of the crowd, the smell of burning rubber, and the adrenaline of race day continued as usual. The Spanish GP had unfolded with its typical thrills and spills, but the tension between Y/N and David lingered in the air, unseen by the millions of viewers who had tuned in.

As the race concluded and the coverage wrapped up, the Channel 4 team began to disperse. Y/N found herself in the media center, reviewing her notes. Her mind, however, was far from the race results.

Why does he always have to be so stubborn? she thought, her pen tapping rhythmically against her notebook. David Coulthard, of all people. The way he looks at me, it's like he’s trying to see right through me. But it's just work, right? It has to be. He couldn't possibly feel the same way.

David, meanwhile, was in a quiet corner of the paddock, sipping on a bottle of water. His eyes were fixed on the horizon, but his mind was replaying the earlier argument.

Why does she get under my skin so easily? he wondered, rubbing his temples. Y/N, with her sunshine smile and relentless optimism. She’s so passionate about everything. I can’t let her know how much I actually admire that about her. She probably thinks I’m just a grumpy old man. If only she knew how I really felt.

Y/N gathered her things and made her way towards the exit, her thoughts still tangled with the events of the day. He probably thinks I’m naive, she mused. Always arguing, never agreeing. But every time we debate, there’s something more. I can’t be imagining this. Can I?

David spotted her from across the paddock and hesitated for a moment before striding over. He cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. “Y/N, can we talk?”

She turned, surprised by his presence but masking it with a small, polite smile. “Sure, David. What’s on your mind?”

He shifted uncomfortably, searching for the right words. “I wanted to say, about earlier… I didn’t mean to come across so harshly. We both care about the sport, just in different ways.”

Y/N nodded, her heart pounding. Is he trying to apologize? “I know, David. We both get passionate about these things. It’s what makes us good at our jobs. I respect that about you.”

David’s eyes softened, and for a brief moment, his guard dropped. “It’s more than just respect, Y/N. You challenge me, push me to think differently. I… I admire that.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Did he just say he admires me? “Thank you, David. That means a lot coming from you. I… I feel the same way. You always push me to be better, to see things from a different perspective.”

A silence fell between them, charged with the weight of unspoken feelings. David looked into her eyes, willing himself to take the next step. Tell her, you idiot. Just tell her.

Y/N’s heart raced, her thoughts a whirlwind. This is it. Maybe he feels the same way. Just say it.

But before either could speak, Steve Jones appeared, breaking the moment. “There you two are! We’re heading to the team dinner. You coming?”

David and Y/N exchanged a fleeting look, their silent conversation interrupted. David nodded slowly. “Yeah, we’ll be there in a minute.”

As Steve walked away, Y/N sighed softly. “I guess we should join them.”

David nodded, a trace of frustration in his eyes. “Yeah, I guess we should.”

As they walked towards the exit, their hands brushed briefly, sending a jolt of electricity through both of them. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air, but for now, they remained just that—unspoken.

One day, David thought, glancing at Y/N. One day, I’ll find the courage.

One day, Y/N echoed silently. One day, I’ll tell him how I feel.

But today was not that day. For now, they walked side by side, their hearts full of words that only they could hear.

-

Title: The Unspoken Truths

The post-race atmosphere in the Red Bull hospitality suite was buzzing with excitement. Max Verstappen and Sergio Pérez were lounging, sharing a few laughs about the day's events. David Coulthard, usually engrossed in race discussions, seemed unusually distant, his eyes frequently drifting toward Y/N, who was chatting with Steve Jones on the other side of the room.

Max nudged Checo, a sly grin on his face. "Hey, have you noticed how David keeps looking over at Y/N? It's like he's trying to solve a puzzle."

Checo chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, he’s definitely got it bad. It’s almost painful to watch."

David, catching their words but pretending not to, tried to focus on the conversation. Yet, his gaze betrayed him, lingering on Y/N as she laughed at something Steve said.

Across the room, Steve had taken Y/N aside, his expression a mix of concern and amusement. "Y/N, we need to talk."

Y/N tilted her head, curiosity piqued. "What’s up, Steve?"

Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, it's time to cut the horseshit with David. Everyone on the team has noticed the tension between you two. It’s getting old, and frankly, it’s affecting all of us."

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean? We’re just… we clash, that’s all."

Steve shook his head, a soft smile on his lips. "It’s more than that, and you know it. There’s something between you two that’s been left unsaid for too long. It’s obvious to everyone except you and David."

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, a mix of embarrassment and realization dawning on her. "I didn’t think it was that noticeable."

Steve chuckled, his tone gentle but firm. "Trust me, it is. And it's not just the bickering. It’s the way you look at each other when you think no one’s watching. There’s something real there, Y/N. Something worth figuring out."

Y/N sighed, her defenses slowly crumbling. "I guess I’ve been too scared to face it. I thought it was one-sided."

Steve’s eyes softened with understanding. "You’re not alone in that. But you both need to stop hiding behind your arguments and face whatever it is you’re feeling. We’re all here for you, but you’ve got to take the first step."

Back in the Red Bull suite, Max and Checo were still observing David with amused curiosity. Max leaned over, his voice low and teasing. "David, you know, staring at her like that isn’t going to solve anything."

David tore his gaze away from Y/N, looking at Max with a mixture of irritation and resignation. "I know. It's just… complicated."

Checo raised an eyebrow. "Complicated or you’re just making it complicated?"

David sighed, his tough exterior cracking. "It’s not easy, alright? We argue all the time, and I thought it was just because we’re so different."

Max’s expression softened, a rare moment of empathy shining through. "Sometimes, those arguments mean there’s something deeper. You should talk to her. Really talk to her."

David nodded, feeling a weight lifting off his shoulders. "Maybe you’re right."

-

The evening sky over Barcelona was a beautiful canvas of twilight hues, the stars beginning to peek through as the noise of the day’s race faded into a distant hum. The Red Bull hospitality suite was winding down, with only a few stragglers remaining. David Coulthard found himself on the balcony, the cool breeze doing little to calm the storm of emotions within him.

Y/N stepped out onto the balcony, her footsteps soft against the tiled floor. She paused for a moment, taking in the sight of David leaning against the railing, lost in thought. Steeling herself, she walked over and stood beside him, the tension between them palpable.

"David," she began, her voice a tentative whisper. "We need to talk."

David straightened, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that took her breath away. "Yeah, we do."

The silence stretched between them, filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. Y/N took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. "I’ve been avoiding this for too long. Steve… he told me to cut the horseshit. Said everyone’s noticed the tension between us."

David’s jaw tightened, his gaze never wavering. "Max and Checo said the same. They can see it too. I thought I was the only one feeling this way."

Y/N’s eyes widened, the weight of his words sinking in. "You mean… you’ve felt it too? All this time?"

David nodded, his expression a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "Every time we argue, every time we’re near each other, there’s this spark. This tension. I thought it was just me, reading too much into it."

Y/N stepped closer, the distance between them shrinking. "I thought it was one-sided. I thought you just… couldn’t stand me."

David let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "It’s not that I can’t stand you, Y/N. It’s that I can’t stand how much you get under my skin. How much I care, even when we’re arguing."

Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart aching at the raw honesty in his voice. "I care too, David. More than I wanted to admit. I was scared that if I acknowledged it, it would ruin everything."

David reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he took hers. "We’ve both been scared. Scared of what this could mean. But maybe it’s time we stop running from it."

Y/N’s eyes filled with unshed tears, her voice barely above a whisper. "What if it changes everything? What if it makes things worse?"

David gently cupped her cheek, his touch sending shivers down her spine. "Sometimes, you have to take a risk. Sometimes, the things worth having are the hardest to fight for. And I think you’re worth fighting for, Y/N."

Y/N leaned into his touch, her heart soaring at his words. "I think you’re worth fighting for too, David."

As the night deepened, the stars above them seemed to shine brighter, the world around them fading away. The tension that had once kept them apart now drew them closer, their hearts finally in sync.

David leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. "No more pretending. No more hiding."

Y/N nodded, her eyes closing as she savored the moment. "Together. We face this together."

David leaned in closer, his breath mingling with hers, their foreheads still touching as the world around them seemed to hold its breath. With a tender hesitance, he tilted his head, their lips finally meeting in a kiss that was soft and tentative at first, then deepening with the intensity of all their unspoken words. As they kissed, the night sky above them erupted in a dazzling display of fireworks, the vibrant colors reflecting the newfound clarity and passion in their hearts.

The bursts of light and sound seemed to celebrate their courage and the beginning of something beautiful, marking the end of their fears and the start of a shared journey. In each other's arms, beneath the exploding sky, they found the promise of a love worth fighting for.

Truly amazing!!! Feeling blessed for this year and what a performance for all!!! See you next year!! 💪🏻🤛🏻✌🏻

and with that, the 2024 season comes to an end

Me: when I saw that Red Bull fired Checo today😭😭😭💔

Fan: No Cadillac?

Daniel: Nah, I'm done.

Me:

Thank you!!!! All of you!!! You saved me for the last 8 years!!! Forever in our heart!! Always. ❤️❤️❤️❤️💔💔😭🥺

I will always be infinitely grateful for Bobby Nash's character as the openly loving, wise, patient, warm and affectionate father figure that my own dad has never been. I'm also grateful for Peter Krause who gave life to Bobby's character with his talent and dedication.

Thank you.

Toto Wolff with wife reader. Dancing under the snow at the paddock, under the light. The most romantic thing I think 🤔 Fluff /suggestive. Thanks!!! :))

Snow was not in the weather forecast for today—not that Formula 1 ever cared much about what was forecasted. Magical and slightly chaotic, just like this sport we’d made our life around.

I shivered, pulling my coat tighter around me, my breath puffing out in little clouds as the snow began to fall gently over the paddock. The race weekend had been chaotic, as usual, but now, with the last of the media cleared out and the floodlights casting a golden glow over the white flurry, there was peace.

Well, mostly peace.

Toto was standing a few feet away, talking to one of the engineers with his usual intensity. His broad shoulders were covered in a thick coat, and his breath came out in steady little clouds, punctuating whatever point he was making. I wasn’t listening to the conversation, but knowing Toto, it was probably about data sets, tire degradation, or, heaven forbid, his drivers.

I let out a small, dramatic sigh. The man could charm a room full of sponsors, negotiate with ruthless board members, and occasionally intimidate race stewards, but sometimes, he forgot I existed when there was work to be done.

“Excuse me,” I called out, tapping my foot for added effect. “Do you think you might wrap up your TED Talk on tire temperatures? Your wife is freezing to death.”

Toto turned toward me, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Freezing to death? Really? You’re standing next to a heater.”

“Details,” I shot back, pointing up at the snow that was now falling more steadily. “Are you really going to let me perish in this winter wonderland without at least a hot chocolate or a blanket?”

He murmured something to the engineer—an apology, probably—and strode over to me. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Of course I’m dramatic,” I said, wrapping my arms around myself for effect. “You married me, didn’t you?”

Toto chuckled, and the sound warmed me more than the heater ever could. He reached out to brush a few snowflakes from my hair, his touch lingering against my cheek. “Alright, let’s get you inside before you start a rebellion.”

I planted my feet firmly on the ground. “Actually, I have a better idea.”

His eyebrows arched in that way that always made him look simultaneously intrigued and wary. “What now?”

I stepped back and spread my arms, spinning once under the snow. “Dance with me.”

Toto blinked. “Here? In the paddock?”

“No, in Narnia,” I quipped, gesturing at the softly falling snow and the lights above. “Yes, here. Come on, Toto, be romantic.”

He sighed, but I could see the corners of his mouth twitching. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“Hopefully not before I get my dance.”

With a shake of his head, Toto closed the distance between us, his hands finding their place on my waist as if this were something we did every day. The snow fell around us like confetti, and the golden glow of the paddock lights turned everything into a scene straight out of a holiday movie.

“You know,” I said as we swayed gently to a tune that only I could hear, “if someone walks by right now, they’re going to think the stress of the season has finally gotten to you.”

Toto smirked. “Let them think it. I have nothing to prove.”

“Except that you can dance,” I teased, stepping on his foot—purely by accident, of course.

“Careful,” he warned, though his grin widened. “I might let go and leave you to your dramatic demise in the snow.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me,” he said, but his hold only tightened, pulling me closer. His touch was warm and steady, and for a moment, I forgot about the snow, the paddock, and even my poor, freezing toes. It was just us, dancing in the quiet magic of the moment.

“Well,” I said after a pause, my voice softer now, “this is officially the most romantic thing you’ve ever done.”

“More romantic than flying you to Vienna for our anniversary?” he asked, his brow lifting in mock offense.

“Yes,” I said firmly. “That had champagne and a five-course meal, sure, but did it have snow falling in the paddock? Did it have impromptu dancing?”

Toto chuckled, and the sound rumbled through me like the coziest fireplace crackle. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are, in love with me anyway.”

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “You’re lucky I am.”

“I’m lucky?” I scoffed, though my cheeks warmed at his touch. “I’m not the one married to a six-foot-something genius with perfect hair.”

Toto laughed outright at that, the sound echoing through the paddock. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Good,” I said, grinning. “Because after this, you owe me hot chocolate. And a foot massage.”

He twirled me suddenly, catching me off guard and making me laugh as the snow swirled around us. “Anything else, Your Majesty?”

“Just this,” I said, resting my head against his chest as we settled back into an easy sway. “Just us.”

For a while, we danced in silence, the snow falling softly, the world around us forgotten. It was, perhaps, the most perfect moment we’d ever stolen together.

Mick🫂❤️Simi

🥺🥺

“what my dad was to Sebastian, he is for me”

“you remind me a lot of your dad”

Better than I expected ✌🏻

Toto Wolff with wife marine! biologists!reader. With their son, Jack finds it fascinating and always helps her whenever she has to talk in front of people. You do however you want. Thanks!! Can be fluff/suggestive.

Working on it as I type this :)

🥺❤️

Toto Wolff with wife Olympian! reader feat their son, Jack. Since it was now summer break for F1, he didn't waste the opportunity to support her in her sports (equestrian). You decide how it goes. Fluff and fun. Thanks!! :))

Olympic Dreams and Racing Hearts

Word count: 1.6k

Pairing: Toto Wollf x reader

Warning: description of a panic attack 

______________________________________________________________

It didn't turn out as fun as you would have probably liked but I found it quite fun how the story changed. Still hope you guys like it.

______________________________________________________________

The vibrant streets of Paris were alive with the excitement of the Summer Olympics, a perfect backdrop for the Wolff family’s adventure. Toto Wolff relished the opportunity to spend quality time with his family during the summer break. Y/n, his wife and a celebrated Olympian equestrian, was preparing for her event, and Toto was determined to support her in every way possible.

The mornings began with the soft glow of dawn filtering through their Parisian apartment, the air filled with the scent of fresh croissants and the distant hum of the city. Y/n was already at the Olympic stables, tending to her beloved horse, while Toto and their son, Jack, made their way over to join her.

"Look, Daddy! Mommy's already with Maximus," Jack exclaimed, pointing to Y/n and her majestic horse.

Toto smiled, lifting Jack onto his shoulders for a better view. "Yes, she is. Mommy’s amazing, isn’t she?"

Y/n turned and waved, her face lighting up when she saw her boys. "Good morning! Ready for another day at the stables?"

Jack wriggled down and ran towards his mother. "Can I help, Mommy?"

"Of course, sweetheart," Y/n replied, ruffling his hair. "You can help brush Maximus."

As Jack busied himself with his task, Toto approached Y/n, wrapping an arm around her waist. "You ready for today?" he asked, his voice filled with admiration.

Y/n leaned into him, feeling the reassuring strength of his presence. "I am. It means the world to me that you’re here."

"Wouldn’t miss it for anything," Toto said, kissing her temple. "This is your time to shine."

The day was filled with rigorous training sessions, with Y/n and Maximus working in perfect harmony. Toto watched from the sidelines, often with Jack on his lap, explaining the nuances of the sport to their curious son. He marveled at Y/n's dedication and skill, her grace and strength evident in every movement.

Later that evening, back in their apartment, the tension of the upcoming competition began to weigh on Y/n. She paced the living room, her mind racing.

“Toto, what if I mess up tomorrow? What if Maximus isn’t at his best?” she confessed, her voice tinged with anxiety.

Toto walked over and gently took her hands in his. “Y/n, you are the best rider I know. You’ve trained for this. Trust in yourself and in Maximus. We’ll be right there, cheering you on.”

She took a deep breath, nodding. “I just don’t want to let anyone down.”

“You could never let us down,” Toto said firmly. “And no matter what happens, Jack and I are incredibly proud of you.”

The following morning, the atmosphere in Paris was electric. The Olympic equestrian arena buzzed with anticipation as Y/n prepared to enter. She looked stunning in her riding attire, confidence radiating from her as she focused on the task ahead. Toto stood by her side, offering last-minute words of encouragement.

"You’ve got this," he whispered, squeezing her hand.

Y/n smiled, her nerves easing with his support. "Thank you, Toto. For everything."

As Y/n rode into the arena, the crowd’s applause was thunderous. The atmosphere was charged with excitement, every cheer and clap reverberating through the air. The bright lights illuminated the arena, casting a spotlight on Y/n and Maximus as they entered, their synchronized movements showcasing the deep bond between rider and horse. Y/n's heart pounded with a mix of nerves and determination, but she kept her focus, her eyes set on the course ahead.

Maximus trotted gracefully, his powerful muscles rippling beneath his sleek coat. Y/n sat tall in the saddle, her posture perfect, exuding confidence. The announcer's voice boomed over the loudspeakers, introducing her and Maximus to the eager audience.

"Representing her country with pride, let's welcome Y/n and Maximus!"

The crowd erupted once more, their enthusiasm palpable. Y/n took a deep breath, her mind laser-focused. She gave Maximus a gentle nudge, and they began their routine. The first few jumps were executed flawlessly, Maximus soaring over each obstacle with ease. Y/n's hands and legs moved in perfect harmony with Maximus, guiding him with subtle cues.

As they approached the water jump, Y/n felt a surge of adrenaline. This was one of the more challenging obstacles, requiring precision and timing. Maximus leaped, clearing the water with room to spare. The crowd gasped in awe, then burst into applause.

Next came the combination jump, a series of three fences placed in quick succession. Y/n knew this would test their agility and coordination. Maximus responded beautifully, his strides perfectly measured. They cleared the first two fences effortlessly, and Y/n felt a swell of pride. They were in sync, moving as one.

Then, as they approached the final fence of the combination, Y/n felt Maximus hesitate for a split second. She adjusted her position, urging him on, but it was too late. Maximus clipped the top rail with his hind legs, and it fell to the ground with a dull thud. The collective gasp from the crowd echoed through the arena.

Y/n's heart sank, but she didn't let it show. She maintained her composure, quickly recovering and guiding Maximus to the next obstacle. The rest of the course was executed flawlessly, Y/n and Maximus finishing with a flourish. She patted his neck, whispering words of encouragement and gratitude.

As they exited the arena, the crowd's applause was still loud, but Y/n could feel the weight of the mistake. She forced a smile, waving to the spectators, but inside, her heart was heavy. The scores were announced, reflecting the penalty for the knocked rail. Y/n and Maximus had earned second place, an incredible achievement, yet it fell short of her ultimate goal.

Backstage, Y/n dismounted, her legs feeling weak. She stroked Maximus's neck, whispering, "You did so well, boy. I'm so proud of you."

Toto and Jack rushed to her side, their faces filled with pride and love. "You did amazing!" Toto exclaimed, pulling her into a tight embrace.

Jack cheered, clapping his hands. "Mommy, you’re the best!"

Y/n forced a smile, holding back her tears. "Thank you, both of you. I’m sorry I didn’t win."

Toto gently lifted her chin. "You have nothing to apologize for. You gave it your all, and that's what matters. We are so proud of you."

The rest of the day was spent trying to enjoy Paris, but the weight of the competition hung heavily on Y/n’s shoulders. She held it together for Jack, laughing and playing with him as they explored the city, but the disappointment gnawed at her.

That evening, after Jack had fallen asleep, Y/n’s facade began to crack. She paced their apartment, her breath quickening. “I failed, Toto. I let everyone down,” she said, her voice shaking.

Toto moved to her side, pulling her into his arms. “You didn’t fail. Coming in second at the Olympics is an incredible achievement.”

Y/n tried to steady her breathing, but the anxiety was overwhelming. “I should have done better. I should have—” Her words were cut off by a sob as she buried her face in Toto’s chest.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Toto soothed, rubbing her back. “Breathe with me. In and out, slowly.”

Y/n tried to comply, but her breath hitched and she choked on her sobs, her body trembling. Her attempts to quiet herself were futile, and the noise woke Jack.

"Mommy?" Jack's small voice broke through the tension. He stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes, his face a mix of confusion and concern.

Y/n quickly tried to compose herself, wiping at her tears. "I'm sorry, Jack. I didn't mean to wake you."

Jack approached cautiously, his eyes wide. "Why are you crying, Mommy? Did something bad happen?"

Y/n knelt down to his level, forcing a smile through her tears. "No, sweetie, everything’s okay. Mommy just had a tough day."

Toto knelt beside her, placing a reassuring hand on Jack's shoulder. "Your mom did something incredible today, Jack. She worked really hard and made us all very proud."

Jack looked at Y/n, his eyes shining with innocence and love. "Mommy, you’re the best rider in the whole world."

Y/n’s heart ached with a mix of gratitude and sorrow. She pulled Jack into a gentle hug, her voice breaking. "Thank you, Jack. That means so much to me."

Toto looked at Y/n, his eyes filled with understanding. “Let’s all take a deep breath together, okay? In and out, slowly.”

They followed Toto’s lead, the simple act of breathing together providing a sense of calm. Y/n’s shaking subsided, and she kissed Jack’s forehead. “I’m sorry I woke you, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay, Mommy,” Jack said softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Y/n whispered, holding him close.

Toto gently guided Jack back to his room. “Let’s get you back to bed, buddy. Mommy and Daddy are here, and everything’s going to be alright.”

After Jack was settled, Toto returned to Y/n’s side. She looked exhausted, the weight of the day etched into her features.

“Come here,” Toto said, leading her to the couch. They sat together, Y/n leaning against him, drawing strength from his presence.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I tried to keep it together, but I couldn’t.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Toto replied. “You’re allowed to feel everything you’re feeling. You’ve been so strong, Y/n.”

She nodded, tears still slipping down her cheeks. “I just wanted it so badly, Toto. And now I feel like I let everyone down.”

“You didn’t let anyone down,” Toto said firmly. “You’ve achieved something remarkable. We’re all incredibly proud of you, especially Jack. Did you see how much he admires you?”

Y/n smiled faintly. “Yeah, I did.”

“Let’s get some rest,” Toto suggested. “Tomorrow is a new day, and we’ll face it together, like we always do.”

I'm just an old lady🙃

ao3 turns 15 today

reblog if youre older than ao3

Please all of you should read this masterpiece!!

Market Hearts - Benedict Bridgerton

Word Count: 1751

Summary: When one notices their lover's joy in a rather odd place, why would they not join in on the feeling?

Benedict Bridgerton, the second son of the Bridgerton family, had never imagined himself spending a morning in the bustling streets of the London market.

It was an unconventional activity for a gentleman of his stature, but then again, you were anything but conventional.

Y/n Bridgerton, you were a woman of singular character.

You possessed a spirit as free as the wind and a heart as generous as the summer sun.

From the moment Benedict had laid eyes on you, he had known that his life would never be the same.

Marrying you had been the easiest decision of his life, but understanding the full depth of your soul was a journey he was still on.

This morning was to be another chapter in that journey.

“Benedict, you don’t have to come with me,” you said, your eyes sparkling with amusement as you adjusted the basket on your arm.

The sunlight streamed through the windows of your house, casting a warm glow on your hair.

Benedict, already dressed in attire more suited for a morning ride in the park than a trip to the market, shook his head with a smile.

“Nonsense. How can I resist seeing where you disappear to every week? You speak of the market as if it were some magical land.”

“In a way, it is,” you replied, your voice softening. “It’s full of life and color, of people with stories etched into their faces. It reminds me of how fast the world is.”

Benedict studied your face, noting the earnestness in your eyes.

This was not merely a chore for you, it was an adventure, an exploration of humanity that fed your soul.

It was one of the many reasons he loved you so fiercely. How could he not join you on this journey, even if only for a day?

“Then lead the way, my love,” he said, offering you his arm.

You walked through the streets of Mayfair, a picture-perfect couple that turned heads wherever you went.

Benedict, with his tall, lean frame and dark, wavy hair, cut a dashing figure in his tailored coat and polished boots.

You, on the other hand, were the epitome of grace and beauty.

Your gown, a simple yet elegant affair in pale blue, highlighted your form and the natural radiance that seemed to emanate from your every pore.

As you moved further away from the more affluent parts of town, the cobblestones grew uneven, and the scent in the air shifted from the delicate aroma of roses to the more earthy smell of baked bread and fresh produce.

The market was already bustling with activity, despite the early hour.

Stalls lined the streets, filled with everything from ripe fruits and vegetables to bolts of colorful fabric and handmade trinkets.

Benedict quickly noticed how out of place he was.

Gentlemen of his rank did not frequent such places.

He could feel the curious glances of the vendors and the wary looks of the other shoppers, but he paid them no mind.

His focus was on you.

You greeted the stall owners by name, engaging them in friendly conversation as you perused their wares.

Benedict watched as you haggled over the price of a plump tomato with an elderly man, your laughter infectious as you bantered back and forth.

It was a side of you that he rarely saw—a side that was not burdened by the expectations of society, a side that was free and unguarded.

“Y/n has a way with people,” the voice of an elderly woman cut through his thoughts.

Benedict turned to find a small, wizened woman standing beside him, a knowing smile on her lips.

She was dressed in a simple brown dress, her hair hidden beneath a white cap.

Despite her humble appearance, there was something regal about her bearing.

“Indeed she does,” Benedict replied, his gaze drifting back to you, as you were helping a young mother choose a handful of carrots while keeping the woman’s children entertained with a funny story.

The old woman chuckled. “She has the gift of seeing people, really seeing them. It’s a rare thing, especially among those who live in the world you come from.”

Benedict studied the woman, intrigued by her words. “And what world would that be?”

“The world of titles and wealth, where appearances matter more than hearts,” the woman said, her tone gentle but firm. “Your wife, she sees past all that. She sees the soul.”

Benedict felt a stirring in his chest, a mix of pride and something deeper—something almost like reverence.

The old woman’s words rang true.

You had always had an uncanny ability to connect with people, to make them feel seen and valued, no matter their station in life.

“She is my sunshine,” Benedict found himself saying, the words slipping out before he could think better of them.

The old woman smiled, a twinkle in her eye. “And you, young man, are her moon. You reflect her light and give it back to her when the night comes.”

Benedict looked at the woman in surprise, but before he could respond, she gave him a small nod and shuffled away into the crowd, leaving him standing there, contemplating her words.

He had always known that you were special, but seeing you here, in your element, made him realize just how unique you truly were.

You were a beacon of light, brightening the lives of everyone you encountered.

And it was his duty, his privilege, to protect that light.

As you continued your journey through the market, Benedict found himself more and more in awe of you.

You moved with a grace that belied the chaos around you, your laughter like music amidst the cacophony of voices and sounds.

He saw how the sellers’ faces lit up when they saw you, how the children gathered around you, drawn to your warmth like moths to a flame.

But he also saw the challenges.

There were moments when your cheerful demeanor was met with coldness or indifference, when your attempts to connect were rebuffed by those who were too hardened by life’s difficulties to appreciate your kindness.

And it was in those moments that Benedict felt a fierce protectiveness rise within him.

He had always been a man of action, a man who could solve problems with a few well-placed words or a deft stroke of his pen.

But here, in this vibrant, unpredictable world, he realized that there were some things that required more than just his influence or his name.

Here, it was you who held the power, and all he could do was stand by your side and support you in whatever way he could.

“Benedict,” your voice brought him back to the present.

You were standing in front of a stall selling flowers, a small bouquet of wildflowers in your hand. “Aren’t these lovely? They remind me of the fields near our home.”

Benedict smiled and took the bouquet from you, bringing it to his nose to inhale the sweet scent. “They are lovely, but not as lovely as you.”

You blushed and playfully swatted his arm. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Only because you inspire it, my dear.”

As you continued to browse the stalls, Benedict felt a growing sense of contentment.

This was what life was truly about—these small, precious moments shared with the person he loved more than anything in the world.

Eventually, you made your way to a quieter part of the market, where a small café sat tucked away between two larger buildings.

You led him inside, where you found a cozy table near the window.

The owner, a rotund man with a jolly face, greeted you warmly and quickly brought you a pot of tea and a plate of freshly baked scones.

“I come here every time I visit the market,” you explained as you poured the tea. “It’s my little retreat, a place to sit and think.”

Benedict looked around the café, taking in the simple yet charming décor.

It was a place that perfectly reflected your personality—unpretentious, welcoming, and full of warmth.

As you sipped your tea, Benedict reached across the table and took your hand in his. “Thank you for bringing me here today.”

You looked at him, your eyes filled with love and affection. “I’m glad you came. I know it’s not the sort of place you’re used to, but it means a lot to me that you wanted to share it with me.”

Benedict squeezed your hand, his heart swelling with emotion. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

You sat in comfortable silence for a while, simply enjoying each other’s company.

Benedict found himself reflecting on the events of the morning, on the way you had moved through the market with such ease and grace.

He realized that you had a rare gift, one that went beyond your beauty or your charm.

You had the ability to bring out the best in people, to make them feel valued and appreciated.

And it was a gift that he was determined to protect, no matter what.

When you finally left the café, the sun was high in the sky, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets.

Benedict and you made your way back to your home, the basket of market goods in tow.

As you walked, Benedict wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

“You know,” he said, his voice thoughtful, “I’ve always considered myself a man of the night. I find solace in the quiet, in the solitude.”

You looked up at him, your eyes curious. “And now?”

Benedict smiled down at you, his heart full to bursting. “Now I know that the night is only beautiful because of the sun. You are my sunshine. You bring light to my life in ways I never imagined.”

Tears glistened in your eyes as you leaned into him, resting your head against his chest. “And you are my moon. You are the one who gives me the strength to shine, who reflects my light when I cannot see it myself.”

You continued your walk in silence, the weight of your words hanging in the air like a blessing.

Benedict knew that life would not always be easy, that there would be challenges and obstacles ahead.

But as long as he had you by his side, he knew you could face anything together.

You were his sunshine, and he was your moon.

And together, you would light up the world.