#james vowles fanfic

[starkwlkr]

Could you do fic for James Vowles with wife reader? James and Alex had been lounging and capturing pictures around the track and he decided to take pictures of her because well she's beautiful in his eyes. So, when someone gets hold of the camera, they decide to give them an album for their anniversary. And that picture is on it. Just something fluff and cute. I don't know if it makes sense. Thanks!! :)))

happy anniversary | james vowles

no faceclaim i just like putting pictures lol 🫶🏼 @pear-1206

requests are closed

recently alex had gotten a camera. he wasn’t going to follow lando daniel’s footsteps of making an instagram account just for his pictures, this was for fun. he was on the track with his team principal, james, trying out different setting and taking pictures of anything he liked.

“the sunset is pretty.” alex commented as he held his camera up to take a picture of the sunset. before he could take the shot, he noticed his girlfriend, lily, and you, james’ wife, walking the track. he decided to take the picture anyway. “maybe i should change my career.” he joked as he showed james the picture he just took.

“i still need my driver.” james replied. he took a look at the photo and smiled. after many years of dating and marriage, he fell more in love with you everyday. “do you mind if i borrow that for a minute?” he gestured to the camera.

“go ahead, i promised lily we would go to dinner. you can leave it in my driver’s room.” alex said as he left to go get lily so they could go to dinner.

from his spot, james watched as lily and alex left the track, leaving you behind. that’s when james got the bright idea of taking multiple pictures of you.

“you look beautiful, my love.” james called out as you were getting closer to him.

“james! no, i look horrible.” you playfully rolled your eyes. “at least get my good side.”

“every side is your good side, now show me your beautiful smile.” he instructed as he positioned the camera.

you followed his instructions. you weren’t sure how many he was taking so you stopped posing which caused him to groan.

“don’t stop, you look really pretty.” he lowered the camera and showed you the results.

“isn’t this alex’s camera? i think he’ll find it weird that his camera is filled photos of his team principal’s wife.” you looked at the other photos. “oh my god, i do look pretty!”

“that’s what i was saying!”

eventually alex did find the pictures of you when he got his camera back. he didn’t mind, after all it was just for fun. when he showed lily, she found it adorable.

“wait, i think their anniversary is in a few days. we can make an album for them with these pictures! we have to do it!” of course alex said yes, who could say no to lily?

so after a quick trip to the store to buy an album and print the pictures, lily and alex spent the night making your anniversary present.

a few days later, you were in james’ office sitting in the chair across from him at his desk. you were enjoying lunch together when a knock interrupted you. james wasn’t expecting anyone and his team knew it was his lunch break so he was confused.

“come in!” he called out.

seconds later, the door opened revealing lily, alex and several williams team members. even you were confused, probably more than james.

“sorry to disturb you, but we have a gift.” alex announced as he revealed a wrapped gift complete with a bow. “happy anniversary, we hope you like it.” he gave the present to you since you were closest to him.

“alex, don’t i will cry.” you said as you looked at james. “do you want to open it or should i?”

“go ahead, my love.” he nodded.

so you teared open the wrapping paper to reveal an album that had your and james’ names printed on it. you quickly showed james then opened it to reveal the pictures that your husband has taken of you.

“oh my god, this is beautiful.” you commented. “i mean, yeah it’s me, but still.” you said making everyone laugh.

“we also put in some pictures from your instragam, mrs. vowles, you know the ones from your wedding day, the day he proposed. it’s all in there.” alex added.

“i think i am crying, thanks alex i’m crying in front of my pasta!” you joked then stood up to hug the couple for the present. that’s when you noticed the williams team had been recording your reaction.

“this is definitely going every williams social media account.” james laughed.

it was definitely no secret that social media loved the vowles’ and now, they loved you even more.

[cheriladycl01]

Could you do fic for James Vowles with wife reader? I've an ideas : Person A and person B get asked the question of when the other person fell in love. person B's face lights up with mischief and begins to tell the most embarrassing story ever while person A has their head in their hands. You decide who is who. Just something fluff and fun. Thanks!!

The night we first met - James Vowles x StrategistWife! Reader

Plot: You are being interviewed for a Podcast that you and James were asked to do ahead of the 2025 season an get asked about how you guys first ever met.

Credit to jamesvowles for the GIF

"Here today, we've got two incredible people in the motorsport world and may i say one of the most iconic couples in motorsport with us on the Podcast. We're so thrilled that they are here, James Vowles and Y/N Vowles!" the interviewer exclaims and you both smile to the boys who'd invited you onto their podcast.

"Hello, how are you boys?" you smile at them kindly. You'd actually watched this specific F1 podcast for a while so when you saw a DM from them you begged James to come on with you.

"We are good, happy to have you here!" The other interviewer exclaims and smiles back at both of you.

"So, lets start with Y/N, your career into motorsports has been a bit of a roller-coaster right? Similar to your husbands actually!" he smiles looking at his card of notes and you smile before looking over at James.

"Well I unlike most I think who end up where I am now started actually driving. I did karting from ages of four to fifteen before i took part in British Single Seater which i ended up winning" you smile before looking down and sighing.

The boys pulled up a picture of you on the screen behind you, from 1997 when you were around 13 years old standing on a P1 podium place with a mini trophy in your hand.

They then switched to one which must have been taken in around 2001 when you'd won your first championship in a feeder series to F1.

"And this one taken in 2001 correct and you were 16, and you won here? James, in 2001 as well you'd just made your debut into F1 fresh out of university working for Honda BAR correct?" one of them asks and he nods.

"Yeah, i mean i was fresh out of uni in what then was a standard midfield team. Life was great!" he smiled taking you hand and kissing the back of it.

"So what happened. You should have been in F1 by now surely" he exclaims looking at you making you sigh.

"Well, everyone knows that F1 has always been a sport for the rich, even more a rich mans sport. People like Lewis Hamilton and Esteban Ocon can take the risk when they don't have the funds for it as it's way more likely for a man to be able to do it than a woman"

"My dad always told me I'd never make it and you know like most daughters i believed him and really lost my spark for it! And I think it's so amazing how far forward the sport has come with F1 Academy and the Driver Development Programme, like if I'd had the financial backing of a team then i would have had the confidence to do it" you explain and they both look really sad for you, and it was sad. It was the hardest choice you'd ever made.

"That's so sad, I think i can speak for the large majority of fans when i say you for sure would have been one of the first women win an F1 race!" one of the interviewers says and you just smile, you didn't often like to think what could have been if ... because you'd made your choice and you couldn't change that and right now with the life you had it wasn't something you would ever want to change.

"Yeah, I mean I'm happy with my life now and don't often like to think of it. I have James, I have the kids and my life is incredible and you know maybe if i was in F1 i wouldn't have bumped into James the way I did... and well" you giggle quietly.

"Yeah? How did that happen?" he asks.

"Well..." you start to laugh and James forces his face into his hands out of embarrassment.

"Please don't, it hurts my soul every time you tell this story!" he laughs awkwardly before you just laugh and continue with the story.

"Well it was 2006 and I was set to join Sauber BMW for my placement year in university. Despite no longer driving i still wanted to make my way into F1 and the only way I could now do that was through my brain. Come June 2007 when i was set to leave obviously because the University year worked differently I'd suggested an upgrade that I'd been thinking off all throughout university and it paid off as Sauber were P2 in the constructors by the end of the year" you start to explain.

"2007 in ... I want to say February at pre-season testing was the first time I met James. He was stranded at the track and i offered to drive him back to his hotel and at this point Honda were starting to struggle for money and we were talking about the teams and the possibility of a move for him. I was so concentrated on driving that there was some questions he was asking me twice!" you chuckled making the others all laugh around you.

"As we were about to cross over a intersection, our light had just turned green. I was being cautious because it was dark and there wasn't too many people around and the car behind me bibbed me to get a move on... bare in mind our light is still green and as im crossing a car coming across who had skipped the red light and a car crashed into our front spinning us around so we were facing the other way" you say calmly remembering the incident.

"I was so so embarrassed, even though James was convincing me that it wasn't my fault!"

"And it wasn't, we saw the dashcam footage which circled the internet after the whole altercation" the guy nodded in agreement with James thinking the crash definitely wasn't on you.

"I didn't end up talking to him until I joined back in post graduation with Honda, just before they turned to Brawn and I'd just finished my masters! in 2008"

"So why were you wanting to join a team that was severely financially struggling ..." one of them asks.

"Well, what can i say I've always liked an underdog. It was one of the teams i was trusted to be put in a high enough position without the experience. It was for a lower salary but i though we could really really do something"

"You were a massive part in the £1 team winning the championship correct?" he asks and you blush making James lightly elbow you.

"Stop!" you laugh at him.

"You were though, you pushed us through many months of hardship where we thought we weren't going to survive!" James admits, having also worked in Brawn.

"So now that you were back together what happened?" he asks and you looked over at him.

"Oh we argued all the time, we really got on Ross' last nerve!" you laugh and James nods in agreement.

"He was chief strategist and i was an engineer, would we blame each other and you'd often see us neck to neck in the paddock when something went wrong" you giggled.

"Yeah thats where the iconic picture of Jenson Button holding you back as your trying too ... I don't even know what you were trying to do honesty" he chuckles looking at the picture making you both chuckle.

"I think she was trying to strangle me... and now that we are married I can for sure tell you guys this time was defiantly my fault" he nods looking down a little bit.

"So how did you guys end up dating. You started dating after Mercedes overtook Brawn and you guys both remained there correct?" he asks and you both nod.

"I think, as much as we enjoyed our time at Brawn there was so much anxiety and pressure on and off track... and I think there was a lot of tensions" James says and you nod.

"I'd always looked up to James but i was still pretty embarrassed about the whole car crash incident and with all of the stress in the team I think for me it just turned into a self defence mechanism..." you grin, knowing this was the bit where James always got embarrassed.

"We were at the celebrations in Abu Dhabi and when we were celebrating knowing we'd one James ... kissed me ... on the lips and it was so random and quick. He pulled back looking so awkward and for a few moments was panicked ... i still don't know why!" you laugh looking over at him.

"Thought you were gonna report me to HR... but I'd had feelings for you since the car accident and I never stopped thinking about you even in our loss of contact..." he smiles pulling you into a small forehead kiss.

"Woah, thats so crazy we never knew there was a whole story since what 2007 behind the pair of you!" the interviewer smiles and you nod.

"Yeah we got married in 2016... the year i became Nico's race engineer as a promotion. Massive year too where we won constructors and drivers. I don't think Lewis spoke to me for a whole year after that" you laugh remember 2016 to 2017 being awkward.

"Is that what made you make the move later on?" he asks, once Nico left you became Valterri's race engineer when he joined.

"Not at all, I loved my time at Mercedes but there were other challenges out there for me. James understood that and once i saw Lando join McLaren i knew there was a good thing starting there. It was a British brand so you know it wouldn't effect me, or the anyone else so it was the perfect opportunity and i was at the same level as James so it was like we were competing" you laugh.

"And you became chief strategist, which is so so impressive you've really had the incredible career haven't you?"

"You know, I don't know where i'd be if it wasn't for the night we first me" you say looking over at James tears welling in your eyes a little. He drove you to be better at your job... he and the life you'd created with his was the most important thing ever to you.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[miloformula123fan]

Could you do fic for James Vowles with wife author!reader? ( He's at Williams ) He always goes to her events even though he's busy but he still makes time just to support her. And vice versa. Just something fluff and cute. Thanks!! :))

this is definitely not amazing, but im secretly quite happy with it

(also updates are gonna slow the fuck down because i have assessments and exams this term yay /s)

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

james vowles x wife!author!reader

---

book talk:

Y/N watched as a teenage girl walked up to the microphone. She clearly looked nervous, as had many other people coming up, but Y/N tried to make her feel as at ease as possible.

“Um…hey Y/N, my name is Elodie, and I just wanted to say how much I love your writing…” - Elodie

James quietly shut the door, once Logan and Alex were through, and didn’t try and push through the crowded room, they instead settled for a spot near the back where they could still see Y/N. They were sure that if people recognised them, they would be shunted towards the front or ushered backstage. They didn’t want that, they just wanted to stay inconspicuous at the back.

“Aww thank you Elodie, what was your question?” Y/N smiled reassuringly

“Um…well, for your book, ‘a sweet sting of salt’, I was just wondering if you had any inspiration for the character Tobias. While he isn’t the best character in the story, you said he was one of your favourite characters to write, and I was just wondering why?” Eloise asked

“Oh, that is a good question, thank you Elodie. Um… while the actions are obviously not based on him, a lot of Tobias’ so-called ‘good’ elements are actually based on my husband. So…okay I’m gonna hope that everyone has read the book, so I don’t spoil it,” she smiled “Um, so for those of you who are unaware, my husband is James Vowles, and he is the Team Principal of Williams, which is a motorsport for those who are very out of the loop. So I guess the main words I would use to describe both Tobias and James, other than loving because Tobias is definitely not, are logical, quiet, grounded, organised and productive.”

James smiles, watching his wife talk about something she was so passionate about.

“So for example, for logical qualities for Tobias and James in chapter 10, Tobias uses deductive reasoning, which I would like to say is James’ strong suit, however he sometimes misuses it, like deducing who ate the chocolate, the wife or the dog. Tobias uses it for more evil, using it for working out how to do the things he does. Maybe they are more evil and similar and similar.” Y/N pondered, garnering a small laugh from the audience

James stopped smiling, as he listened to his wife compare him to a literal murderer in her book. Logan and Alex were standing next to him, trying to avoid their laughs.

“Then for quiet, in chapter 16, James likes sneaking around and scaring the shit out of me when he gets back from the factory and from races to scare the shit out of me, and Tobias uses it for murder. Huh, maybe these 2 characters are closer together than I thought.” Y/N pondered, laughing as she saw her husband’s face

“Darling, I’m not a thief and a murderer. I honestly don’t know why you based Tobias off of me.” James tried to mediate.

However it was enough for Alex and Logan to burst out laughing, joining in with the rest of the crowd, who had discovered that James was there and found it very funny.

“I’m just saying you share similar qualities, more than I initially insisted. Are you sure you didn’t secretly murder someone?” Y/N tilted her head, as if genuinely thinking about the question

“Darling…” James tried to plead again

“ANYWAY - Then for grounded, in chapter 18…” - Y/N, moved on, continuing with her ideas.

---

garage:

“And during this safety car period, Alex, our camera man has gone for a wander and he has gone down to the Williams garage, and while we’re normally looking at the team principal or other important people, we have instead zoomed in on Y/N Vowles. Now for those who don’t know, she is a writer, and she seems pretty hard at work at this book on her laptop. Now that will be good news for anyone who reads her books, including me, she writes very good books, available at all the awesome book stores, and no she hasn’t paid us for that, we just think her books are amazing. Oh and she waved at us. Hi Y/N!” - Jolyon said from the commentary box

James smiled at the sight of Y/N on his screen. While this weekend had been very stressful, it was very nice having his wife be there for him in the garage and then back at the hotel rooms, even after all the late meetings. He watched as she smiled and waved at the screen, and he was unable to resist the temptation as he smiled at the picture and waved back, earning another laugh from the commentators.

---

book talk part 2:

“Sorry Y/N, my name is Leo, this is a bit of a personal question…” a teenage boy asked

“...as long as it’s not when I’m having a baby, or where I live, it should be okay, hit me!”  Y/N tried to put him at ease.

“Your schedule for this book tour is a little all over the place, if you don’t mind me saying, it was basically like the first 2 months of the year, and now there’s just kinda weeks off or even months off, and I was just wondering if there was any sense to the schedule.” Leo shuffled awkwardly, unsure of how she would react to the question.

“Ah, well there actually is. First off, I cannot tour every week of the year, because I think I would just simply die. But the reason I picked those weeks off is because if my husband again. Are you guys sensing a pattern here? I love James, and I really want to support him at all the f1 races. So those are the weeks I took off, basically. And second, Baby Vowles is due in 6 months, thanks guys!” Y/N laughed as she put down the microphone and walked off stage, laughing as the cheers from the crowd grew louder.

---

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @pear-1206

[mrs-saturday]

🏹 The Archer (LS2)

♥ my masterlist!

♥ pairing: Logan Sargeant x Reader

♥ synopsis: The aftermath.

♥ a/n: Im so upset. Im broken. This is my grieving process

Combat, I'm ready for combat,

The pre-race ritual has always been the same for Logan and you. In front of the mirror, your hands slipping around his toned midriff, nails tracing the evidence of gym sessions beneath his race suit, his helmet on its stand, air at a standstill, as his head falls back onto your shoulder with a shaky exhale.

He knew it, and you knew it.

Zandvoort was the last one, and even though no one knew that for certain, and Vowles hadn't called the meeting, hadn’t thrown down the gavel on the blonde’s dream, you both knew it and it sat in your stomachs like a weight.

He picks his head back up, and turns to face you, planting a small kiss on your nose, and you do the same.

His nose is awfully cold, but you watch him slip the helmet on, and pray that it warms him through.

I say I don't want that, but what if I do?

Watching him spin out was like the nail in the coffin.

Watching orange tongues lap at the rear of his car was enough to drive you to a Hamlet-like state; to jump in his grave, pull the casket lid wide, and scream to the onlookers your love. 

When he’s back from medical, he looks at you, a silent acceptance of the end of his career quite literally going up in flames. He runs over, head buried in your chest as silent sobs wrack through his trembling frame. “Logan…” you mutter into his hair, about to ask what he thought would happen to his seat.

“I don’t even want it anymore…” he cries

“But, what if you do?”

'Cause cruelty wins in the movies,

He was told he was out 2 days before they announced it. The young Argentinian with his head hung low in the meeting room, unable to look at Logan. The cold fist of Vowles telling him what he’d been expecting, but the thought of him ruining this young boy’s career filled him with rage. 

How dare he do this again. How dare he do this to another bright star, to ignite his explosion all too short of a supernova. 

I've got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you

You try to get him to stop for a moment, but he’s sat furiously typing. He has to get it all out, he says. Too many thoughts, he says. He types and types as you hold him. Every frustration, every late upgrade, every lost nugget of feedback, every false promise, the results of which spilled into the American’s notes app like he was a teenage girl, feeling her heartbreak through lines of shower thoughts and ill-placed rhymes.

When he finished, he exhaled, and looked at you, with a weak smile, and hit delete on the note. 

Easy they come, easy they go

You two don’t stay in the UK long. The boxes are full the day it’s announced and the flights to Florida only a few days after. 

“Home” he had begged on that night, “If the track can’t be, I want to make home with you”

And you agreed, you packed up your life in England alongside him, the helmets and trophies of past delegated to a manila coloured box labelled “FRAGILE: HANDLE WITH CARE”

They would stay there.

For a while, at least.

I jump from the train, I ride off alone

The last thing he does is visit Oscar. Or at least, he tries to. His rosy knuckles tap on the Australian’s door one last time before he realises Oscar is not answering, despite the party going on inside the house. He is far too busy living their dream to remember to answer to the door to a boy delegated to a photograph on his mother’s refrigerator. 

I never grew up, it's getting so old, Help me hold onto you

It’s like he’s 11 again, in his parent’s living room, watching ‘Top Gun’, and eating popcorn. No one has bought it up. Not you, not his parents, not Dalton, it hangs in the air like the wheel had clung to his car by a wire’s length. Instead, you all ignore it for the simple pleasure of family. You laugh as he throws popcorn at his brother like they’re children. And you smile to yourself.

He never got to be a kid, really so why not hold onto that freedom now?

I've been the archer

He’d been the winner

I've been the prey

He was the prey

Who could ever leave me, darling?

You could never leave him, darling.

But who could stay?

Home always stayed.

[formulawolff]

xvii. facing reality - t.w.

pairing: female driver!reader x toto wolff

word count: 2.9k

warnings: cursing, age gap relationships, (slight) sexism, unfair treatment of drivers, toto being down bad per usual, mentions of divorce, allegations of infidelity, james being a dick, yadayadayada

a/n: i am aware that it is solely up to the drivers in terms of contract talks, negotiations, etc. however, let's just pretend that we do not see it and that there are some restrictions when it comes to our golden girl. okay? okay cool :p

prev. | next.

the only noise was the dull roar of the engine, and well, the occasional shuffle of papers as he flips through his notebook, careful not to produce much movement in his shoulder.

nestled on his right shoulder was your head, your breathing rhythmic, both arms cuddling his bicep. 

turning his head, his mouth places a kiss on your temple, “i love you, sweet girl.”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

the ease in which the words flowed from his lips sent a ripple of bliss throughout his chest. the warm, cozy feeling only intensifies tenfold as you wrinkle your nose, nuzzling into the fabric of his button-up. although you’re deep in slumber, you respond, voice thickened with exhaustion.

“i love you, toto.”

“get some rest,” he murmurs, “i’ll wake you when we make it to montreal.”

sometimes the bustling season schedule had its perks. since drivers were not required to fly in with their teams to races, typically everyone flew separately from their respective locations. so, toto had you accompany him on his jet to canada, where the two of you could be alone for just a little while longer.

approximately twelve hours longer, where you would have to go your separate ways once landing. it was arranged that theodore would be driving you to the track, where you would be able to reunite with alex and the rest of the williams crew.

meanwhile, mr. wolff had a few business obligations to attend. one was a meeting with a few potential investors for the 2025 season, while the other obligation was a little more personal.

someone had to recognize your accomplishments over the last few weeks. 

and he was going to be that person.

to add to your bracelet, toto arranged a meeting with a private jeweler where he would pick out four more charms to add to your bracelet. 

one for sazuka. one for miami. one for emilia romagna. and finally, one for monaco. 

the initial plan was to gift you the new charms before qualifying, so that you could have a few more additions to your bracelet. in toto’s mind, he liked to imagine that the bracelet was your good luck charm. 

after all, it seemed to be working. 

with the current driver standings, you were at the top of the board. max was behind you, trailing by a decent amount of points. at his tail was charles leclerc, lando norris in fourth. although your name was a hot topic in the world of formula one, rumors flying that you were the main contender for the title, it was still too early to make any definitive judgments. 

formula one was ever-changing. a single race could shift the leaderboard, as many drivers were close in points. a single weekend could also shift the team standings, as williams was now thrust in the mix for the second or third spot, fighting tooth and nail with red bull, ferrari and mclaren. 

it was all thanks to you. your reflexes, your critical thinking, your ability to remain level-headed under pressure, and your exceptional knowledge of the cars and the sport were the reason why williams was in their position.

it was the sole reason why you were the leader of the pack. sure, the car helped, but a majority of the credit was due to the american driver. 

the first american female driver to ever win points. the first to ever win a grand prix. the first woman to win five consecutive grand prixes.

the only woman to ever win a grand prix. 

you were one of one. 

additionally, you were the second woman in the history of the sport to ever score points, decades after lella lombardi paved the way. 

there was so much at stake, so much weight to be carried on your shoulders. 

yet, here you were, lightly snoring, your lips parted as your brows twitched, lashes fluttering. 

it seemed the closer the two you got, there was always something that tried to pry you further apart. 

hours ago, toto received an email in his inbox from the mercedes public relations team, formally asking the team principal if he could maintain his distance from the williams driver. this was mainly for the sake of the image of the team as a whole. 

to manage this, he needed to refrain from speaking to the driver in either one of the garages, in the paddock, in any area of the track or designated team areas. this was to be during press conferences, and well throughout any public interaction with the driver before, during, or between racing events. 

of course, mercedes supported the decisions he made in his personal life wholeheartedly and wanted nothing but the best for him when it came to his romantic and personal endeavors. however, with the current public perception of his romantic relationship with the williams driver, it was best that he focused solely on the team and their potential accomplishments for the time-being. the team was his top priority for the weekend. 

oh, and the most crucial aspect of the entire email. 

we hope that you abide by our advice and take the necessary precautions. we are hoping for a great weekend in canada!

some fucking email that was.

although there was no formal threat of repercussions, the team principal was not going to take any risks. 

even if it slightly killed him inside to do so.

it appeared that in order to have access to you, toto was going to have to tread carefully. there would have to be thoroughly coordinated meetings, where he would have to sneak away just to even catch a glimpse of your gorgeous face. he would have to slip into your motorhome in the late hours of the night, just as he used to in jeddah, suzuka, and miami. 

however, since that kiss in monaco, things were a little more intense. 

there were eyes now. on both of you. 

eyes that would follow his every move, watching as he departed from the paddock or garage. eyes that were trained by pr teams to ensure that the delicate mercedes reputation remained intact. eyes that were determined to keep the two of you separated, no matter his frustration or protest. 

you were going to be so close, yet so far. 

he would be able to look, but not touch. 

and fuck, was that shit was going to drive him absolutely insane. 

on a similar note, you had gotten the notification from the williams public relation team just as you were boarding the jet. 

although you received the same sort of message within the email, you also happened to get a text from james. 

that one was far more threatening, laced with a sour bitterness that had toto’s blood boiling, his fists tightening on the armrests, knuckles tinged white. 

i do not want to see you look in the direction of the mercedes paddock while we’re in montreal. and if i catch you talking to him between practices or the race…

as much as toto prompted you to get into contact with the human resources department to report the text, you protested. mostly due to the fact that you were already in hot water with williams. despite their reassurances that you were not to face consequences for monaco, there was still that anxiety gnawing away at you, an ever-looming thought in the back of your mind. 

even if you weren’t in trouble for your romantic pursuits, williams had made it very clear that they did not approve of the relationship. 

at least, their public relations department, some members of the board, and james, your team principal, had made it very clear. 

and to you, that was enough to keep you on your best behavior. 

however, there were approximately eleven more hours of the flight before you made it to your destination. 

for the mercedes team principal, that meant he had to savor your presence for eleven more hours before the two of were forced to go your separate ways. 

fuck the mercedes pr team for suggesting those pitiful rules. fuck the williams pr team for reminding you of their disapproval. 

and most importantly, fuck james vowles for speaking to you that way. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“there she is!” 

“hi,” you wave, suppressing a giggle as he waggles his brows, pointing finger guns in your direction.

“how’d it gooo? did you two lay under the starlight and give one another googly eyes until the sun rose over the beautiful mountains of monte carlo?”

alex is peering at you, his gaze honed in as you shrug, “it was fine.” 

he scoffs, rolling his eyes, “you guys spent days together and you can’t tell me a single detail?” 

carefully, you scan the room, taking in your surroundings. currently, you were in the williams paddock, situated next to alex in one of the many debrief rooms. james was going to arrive any minute, ben in tow, along with members of the core crew. 

keeping your voice low, you fidget with the sleeves your hoodie, grateful for the traces of citrus and spice that lingered, “james texted me before i boarded my flight here.” 

alex straightens in his seat, leaning forward so that your voice didn’t have to carry, “no shot. what did he say?” 

“he said that he didn’t want me to even look in the direction of the mercedes paddock,” the words are shaky, brimmed with apprehension, “the text had a really off-putting tone to it. toto wanted me to report it but i’m not sure if i should. i’m already in an awkward position with williams and i don’t want to complicate things further.” 

alex’s tongue runs along his lower lip, the driver’s brows scrunched together. there’s concern glittering in his gaze, his fingers resting on his chin. 

“that’s really shitty of james considering i was there at that meeting following monaco. everyone seemed to be in good standing with one another. i remember patrick reminding you over and over again that you weren’t in any sort of trouble. maybe he said that so you could focus on the race this weekend?” 

“probably,” you mutter, slumping into the chair, “it just fucking sucks, you know? all of this back and forth. it’s like having fucking vertigo. one minute i feel like i’m on cloud nine, and the world loves me. james is over the moon, and the crew is hoisting me up into the air. within seconds, everyone is avoiding me. they’re shooting me dirty looks or spreading shit about me on social media. they’ll murmur under their breath that i’m a homewrecker or a slut.”

before you know it, alex has several tissues is his grasp, gently laying them on your thigh. raising your read, you feel the slickness of tears on your heated cheeks, your palms clammy as you wipe them on your sweats.

“i cannot imagine how fucking hard this must be for you.” 

“it is,” your lower lip trembles as you dab the tissue on your lids, “why do you think i flew out to monte carlo? why do you think i’ve been avoiding wantage? ignoring the emails? i just don’t feel like my relationship with williams is genuine anymore. sometimes i regret that race in monaco–”

“hey,” a thumb massages your shoulder, his voice light, “don’t ever feel guilty about that race.”

you shake your head, the words spilling out of gritted teeth, “if i would have let charles overtale me, he would have won. i would have never left that podium. i would have never kissed–”

“everything okay in here?” 

a voice rings through the room, your head swiveling to the doorway.

james enters the room, the williams crew following in suit. using your sleeve, you brush away the tears, exhaling as alex tosses the tissues in the nearest trash bin. he scrunches his nose, nudging you with his knee.

“you’re welcome for that.”

“what would i do without you?” a laugh bubbles up in your throat as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, bringing you in for an affectionate embrace. 

his mouth hovers by your ear, eyes darting to james before shifting back to you, “we can talk more later. i promise. i want to know how you and your pookie bear are doing!”

“okay you two,” james clicks his tongue, “i hate to interrupt gossip hour, but it’s time to discuss racing strategies for the weekend. unfortunately spilling secrets about a certain team principal does not get us anywhere in terms of winning.”

at his snide remark, you feel a twinge of frustration brew in your stomach, churning it into a knot as james’ attention falls on you, his arms folded across his chest, brow arched ever so slightly. 

“can you promise us that you’ll be one hundred percent focused on the race this weekend? one hundred percent dedicated to williams and only williams?”

your jaw clenches, brows knitting together, “isn’t that what i’ve been – yes. i can promise you that.i’ll be dedicated to the team this weekend, just as i’ve always been.”

“good,” james’ expression is unreadable as he tuts, “okay! let’s get started. ben, would you like to begin with the latest upgrades to the cars?”

mirroring the others, you slide the headphones over your ears, ben’s voice drowning in your ears as dives into the subject at hand. 

as much as your mind wanted you to pay attention, to listen closely, you were not present. 

not one bit.

your thoughts were elsewhere, wandering back to that one individual.

toto. 

fuck, did your heart absolutely ache. 

how were you supposed to maintain your distance for an entire weekend if you could barely keep it together after merely hours apart? 

you could sense your knee bouncing, your teeth gnashing into your cheek, chewing away at the flesh. 

fuck, this was going to suck.  

your thumbs itch, urging you to fish your phone out of your pocket. yet, you know that shouldn’t, as there were numerous eyes right along with you in the room. there were a few times in which you did glance at your phone in the past during debriefings, but that was to simply check notifications, pull up footage, or type a quick response to send back to toto. 

if james happened to catch you peeking at your phone? oh god, he would probably treat you like some sort of child and have you sit right next to him. just so that he could observe your every move and ensure that you were honed in on the tasks at hand. fuck, if he was frustrated enough, he would probably snatch that phone right out of your hand, keeping it until you all were finished. 

the treatment you were receiving since monaco was becoming more and more insulting. almost degrading, really. 

sure, you were at the top of the leaderboard. sure, you were one of the best drivers that the team had signed in a years. sure, you were writing history with every record you shattered. 

but when you were involved with the team principal of mercedes, those things didn’t really matter. you were treated like a petulant child, disciplined for something that was beyond your control. 

there was no reason to punish you over the man you were in love with. 

yet, that was just the reality of the situation. 

as harsh as it was, it was probably wise to keep the two of you separated. although the pr teams were working overtime, busting their asses to squash the rumors, to silence those whispers, there were still the ever-looming truths.

one, you were engaging in a romantic relationship with a man thirty years older than you. 

two, toto was recently divorced. that was not a good look for each party involved. it raised the questions of how long the two of you were really talking, how long you had been tiptoeing around. the heated debates if you actually knew about the divorce or if you were a homewrecker.

and of course, the third and final truth.

the mercedes amg petronas was searching to sign their second driver for the 2025 season. toto especially, as he was their main scout, announcing numerous times that he had spoken with a menagerie of drivers, even beyond formula one. 

the hot gossip was that you were to be that second driver. you were the prized pick, a valuable asset to any team on the grid. the apple of toto’s eye. the object of his every desire. the final piece to his puzzle. 

although the entire world was under the impression that they were just speculations, they were blissfully unaware that it was indeed the truth. 

toto was going to approach james after the canadian grand prix with his proposal. 

all he needed was that blessing, the nod of approval to begin the contract talks.

however, there was that one uncertainty. the one thing that both of you were unsure of, waves of anxiety pumping through your veins each time your mind wandered. 

there was that possibility that james could say no. that there would be no contract talks.

even though it ultimately was up to the driver, the fia had made it very clear there were to be no private meetings, nothing left in the dark. especially if you were to depart ways from williams and sign with mercedes. 

so if james said no, you would be fucked. 

majorly, utterly, completely fucked. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

taglist: @k3ira13 @prettiest-at-the-party @annewithaneofthegreengable @zoeyjadetice2010 @sinners-98-world @statuewoman @laura-naruto-fan1998 @nebarious @joalslibrary @swifth0lic @strangegirl974 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @msbyjackal @annaaepf1 @paigelouise @bborra @bblouifford @s-awturn @upsteadsstuff @omgsuperstarg @younxii @toldyouitwasamelodrama @kravitzwhore @persona1lies @pucksandpower @gisellesprettylies @wonderwolffs @xxforeverinadayxx @theseerbetweenus @simply-the-best23 @ringdingdingdingx @leilanixx @marknolee @rylieverstappen-sargent @whoisss @ajthefujoshi @m-1234 @ihateyougunthersteiner @nicaeno @racecardilfs

as always, thank you guys for the endless support on this series! let me know if you would like to be tagged! we have about three chapters left! i love you all!! <33

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Hey!!! I just got the most amazing idea ever!! (probably 🤭) I know that Franco had just lose his grandfather and he had to do FP. And basically everyone (the media & paparazzi just decide to hustle him despite him clearly not wanting to talk or do anything for them. Which is why he wears headphones and cap). So this is more of James with a wife reader. She is practically comforted and was with him since she always does that to everyone. Franco was just so young and she wanted to cocoon him in her warmth. From having bad weather to that awful FP which he crashed and later Alex did the same🙃🙃 Everyone especially the mechanics had to double their work because race starts in like 3 hours after quali. And how can they fix two cars in just that shirt period of time??? Being able to fix one was a miracle, but fixing two? They need to call everyone at the factory it seems😮‍💨😮‍💨 And then Alex not starting the race and Franco struggle in the rain because Williams didn't want to put wet tyres and then later crashed making the stewards flagging the race as red. You know, just a shitty day at the office. Williams out of the race:(( Everyone frustrated, tension arises, more work to do with how the race turns out to be. James admired her about that. Keeping calm, composure and bringing in warmth to everyone at the paddock (maybe interactions with drivers). This is the longest I've ever sent you, so it's up to you how it goes. I trust you. Can be anything you want. Fluff or angst or suggestive. Can be one shot or series. Anything. Just a whole lot of thank you for everything you've ever done for me!!! ❤️❤️❤️ Tag me later!! If you have any questions, just ask me!! I'll be happy to help. Thanks!!! :))

Rain, Resolve, and Resilience

word count. 1.2k

Pairing: James Vowles x reader

AN: Thank you so much for your application i really need that.

______________________________________________________________

The Williams paddock was a storm of activity that mirrored the turbulent clouds overhead. Rain battered the track, but it was nothing compared to the emotional storm inside. Franco, one of the team’s youngest drivers, had only recently lost his grandfather, the man who had nurtured his passion for racing from the start. Now, Franco was expected to push through that grief and focus on practice, even as his heart was heavy. The cameras followed his every step, journalists crowding in with pointed questions, ignoring the lines of grief etched into his face. He pulled his cap down low, headphones covering his ears in an attempt to escape, but it was all too much.

Y/n, the beloved wife of team principal James Vowles, saw it all unfold from the edge of the garage. She had spent countless hours at James's side, becoming a quiet pillar for the team in a way only she could. Mechanics and engineers knew they could go to her if the pressure became too much; her presence alone had a grounding, calming effect on everyone. Today, seeing Franco, barely more than a boy, desperately trying to hold himself together as he faced the cameras alone, broke her heart.

She moved toward him gently, slipping past the reporters who still tried to shout questions his way, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Franco,” she said, her voice calm, almost a whisper. “You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here.”

Franco’s shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. He managed a grateful smile, his voice barely audible when he replied, “Thank you, Y/n.” He didn’t say more, but she could see the relief in his eyes. Knowing he wasn’t alone in that moment meant everything.

The rain was relentless, and as the team prepared for the practice session, the paddock was tense. Y/n stayed close, keeping an eye on Franco as he prepared to take to the track. She felt protective, wanting to shield him from all the hurt and stress he was carrying. With a deep breath, he climbed into the car, and she watched, fingers crossed, hoping he could find some solace in the race. But as the rain poured harder, the slick track proved unforgiving. Franco’s car spun out on a turn, and he crashed, the impact sending a chill through the paddock. Minutes later, Alex followed, a sickening repeat that left the team reeling.

The Williams garage erupted into controlled chaos. With less than three hours to go before qualifying, both cars were in dire need of repair. Mechanics dashed back and forth, voices rising as they shared updates over radios and called for parts. It felt like an impossible task; fixing one car was a miracle on its own, but two? Every hand was needed, and the tension among the crew was palpable.

In the midst of it all, Y/n was a steady, calm presence, moving through the garage like a breath of fresh air. She approached a young mechanic, shoulders slumped as he stared down at a particularly stubborn part. He rubbed his forehead in frustration, looking close to defeat.

“Take a second,” Y/n said softly, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. “You’re doing amazing. We’ll get there, piece by piece.”

The mechanic glanced at her, finding comfort in her reassuring smile. “Thanks, Y/n,” he murmured, his spirits lifting. She continued to move through the garage, offering words of encouragement to others, giving each team member the strength to push on.

James glanced over at his wife between giving orders, his admiration shining in his eyes. She had a gift, a way of making people feel seen and valued, even when everything felt impossible. He’d often find her in these moments, quietly lifting the spirits of those around her, giving them strength without ever drawing attention to herself. She was the backbone of the team in ways that only he could see.

Back in a quieter corner of the garage, Franco sat alone, hands in his hair as he replayed the crash in his mind. He looked up as Y/n approached, her presence bringing a hint of calm to the chaos within him.

“Do you want to take a little walk?” she asked gently, nodding toward a nearby corridor away from the noise. Franco nodded, grateful for the escape, and they stepped outside into the cooler air.

As they walked, she spoke quietly, her words laced with compassion. “You know, you don’t have to keep this all bottled up. Losing someone you love…it doesn’t go away just because you’re expected to race.” Her tone was soft, non-judgmental, offering him a safe space to express the grief he’d been carrying alone.

Franco took a shaky breath, the weight of the loss settling in his chest. “I just… I wish he was here to see me race,” he admitted, his voice catching. “He taught me everything, and now…” He trailed off, struggling to find the words.

Y/n placed a comforting hand on his back, offering him a moment of silent support. “I think he’d be incredibly proud of you, Franco. You’re out here, giving it everything despite how hard things are. That takes strength,” she said, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

When they returned to the paddock, Franco looked a bit lighter. The time away with Y/n had given him a bit of the peace he needed to keep going.

The rain returned with a vengeance on race day, and the paddock was alive with tension once more. Only Franco’s car had been fully repaired, and the knowledge that Alex wouldn’t be able to start weighed heavily on the team. Despite the pressure, Y/n stayed close, her comforting presence a balm to the team’s frayed nerves.

As Franco took to the track again, Y/n stayed by the garage monitors, her hands clasped tightly as she watched him navigate the rain-soaked circuit. But the track was treacherous, and the decision not to put on wet tires soon proved costly. Franco’s car began to slide, the wet track claiming another victim as he fought to regain control. Y/n’s heart sank as she watched him crash once more, the red flags raised as the race was halted.

The team was devastated. The loss of both cars cast a shadow over the weekend, leaving everyone drained and disheartened. In the paddock, frustration was written across every face, the team grappling with the weight of another painful blow. For many, the temptation to give up felt stronger than ever.

But Y/n, ever the steady presence, moved through the crowd, her calm energy pulling everyone back to center. She listened as mechanics vented their frustrations, offering a word of comfort or a quiet hug to those who needed it most. For the younger team members, she was a constant, a familiar warmth that reminded them they weren’t alone in their struggles.

When James finally made his way over, exhaustion etched into every line of his face, he found Y/n beside Franco once more. The young driver looked up at her, his gratitude clear even in his exhaustion. James watched, his admiration for his wife growing with each passing moment. She was the heart of the Williams family, the one who kept them all grounded when the pressures of racing felt too much to bear.

Y/n looked up at James, catching his gaze with a soft smile that seemed to ease his worries. “We’ll get through this,” she said, as much a promise as a reassurance.

[wombatchase]

I want to hear NO ONE say ANYTHING BAD about Logan today.

NO ONE NO EXCEPTIONS.

[adisillusionedauthor]

Could you do fic for James Vowles with wife reader? She accompanied him to the paddock with a little cough and runny nose. He told her to rest but she insists she's fine. He stay close to her side all the time because he worried about her. You decide how it goes. Just something fluff and comfort. (He's at Williams) Thanks :))

Sickly in Love - James Vowles

Requested by: Anon

Masterlist<3

Pairing: James Vowles x Wife!reader

Warning: fluff, bad English, comfort, mentions of fainting

Word count: 593

James tried convincing me that I didn’t need to go, but I did. It was a very important race and I could see how important it was for him. It was always important to have me around, but he’s been getting more and more anxious with the races. I insisted I would go, he insisted I wouldn’t and now we are in the car on the way to the paddock. In my hands I had a box of tissues and some medication: “Honey, you’re staying in my office, I’ll warm it up to help with the fever.” He said already worried about me: “James, sweetheart… I’ve had the flu before, I’ll be okay, I want to watch the race by your side.” I say leaving the car once he parked, feeling a little light headed so I lean on the car, he comes around worried, checking my fever with the back of his hand and getting a tissue to clean my runny nose as I tried to not pass out: “Honey… I told you, you didn’t need to come, it’ll be another common race.” He tried to convince me to go back to the hotel.

“I’m not leaving… I’m fine…” I said weakly as I stand up from the car, feeling everything around me fade, it felt as if I was floating for a second, but before I could reach the ground, James caught me in his arms, resting my head on his shoulder as he carried me inside: “Since I can’t convince you to go, I’ll see if I can do something about me taking care of everything from my office, it’s too hot out here for you…” He said, laying me on the small couch he had in his office, leaving the room for no more than five minutes. He came back with a notebook and some earphones: “I got permission to do everything from here, I'm glad they could understand the situation…” He said sitting down close to me, I sat up only to rest myself against him, my head on his shoulder as I tried to keep up with everything that was on the screen.

In my half-asleep state, all I could understand is that Alex was in third and once the race ended, he managed to get second place, the guys came in the room to call James to go celebrate, but once they opened the door they found me asleep on his shoulder as he ran his fingers through my hair, they left without making a sound. James and I left a little later, he carried me to the car, laid down the seat so I could continue sleeping and before he drove us home, he made a quick stop at my favorite fast food and ordered me my comfort food. He knows it helps me feels better when I’m sick, he then drove us home and only woke me up once we were already inside and I laid in our bed comfortably, in my pajamas that consisted in an old Williams shirt of his that I found and my comfort food next to the bed, he kissed my forehead and we ate the food, watched a movie and went to bed, I woke up feeling a lot better but once I heard a cough coming from James, I looked at him apologetically, I had gotten him sick: “I’ll take care of you, I promise” I said, giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek as I went to grab the medicine and get started on breakfast. 

[f1tyreslightmyfyre]

Love Bites - Ch. 8

F1 Driver!Charles Leclerc x Biologist!Max Verstappen Antarctica AU

“Hit the nail on the head.” Oscar flashes him a grin of approval. “Maybe you missed your calling as a naturalist.”

“Not a chance, mate,” Charles dismisses with a laugh. “There’s too many facts to memorize.”

“That’s more history than marine biology,” Oscar replies with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “But, then I studied both, so I’m probably a poor judge.”

Chapter 8 Images -

...

Oscar turns to look back up the mountain trail and Charles follows his gaze.

...

They come to a stop at the top of the rocky waterfall, and Charles peers down at the beach below.

...

When they finish with the hose, they direct him up the steps to clean his boots, and Charles grabs hold of the railing before dragging his boot against the thick bristled brush.

[heartracetrack]

James Vowles x reader Note: I'm not entirely sure what this is. It's been rattling around my head for a little while now and I thought I should go on ahead and share it. content advisories for depressive mood, and mild anxiety, but I don't think it's too heavy.

____________________________________________________________

Morning comes too soon. The depths of sleep tug at your limbs willing you to sink further beneath the covers. Further to sleep. Further to rest. 

Your heart races, blood echoing in your ears as loud as a crashing wave. The heavy feeling leaves you breathless, silently begging your body to release you gently back to the safety of sleep. A glance at your phone on the nightstand tells you it's just past 3 am. James stirs next to you, slipping away. He presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder between mumbled whispers about you getting some more sleep before you meet him at the track later. You take the permission for what it is. Focusing on the comforting sear where his lips lay; if you close your eyes you can still feel the heat of his palm where it rested on your waist most of the night; you curl into the body warmed sheets on his side of the bed and slip back into stillness. 

In a perfect world you would bat your lashes open enough to watch him getting ready. You'd sit up against the headboard and kiss him goodbye before he heads out the hotel room. But, you belong to the land of sleep long before he even finishes his shower. 

When both Williams cars finish in the points you're barely a part of the waking world. With eyes open, and body unmoving you watch listless as your phone buzzes then vibrates on the nightstand. You know you should answer. You should sit up and check the time you'll need to get up and get dressed for race day soon. But the very thought of exerting that much energy is too much too bare. You can't help the tears that start to fall, as the reflection of the daylight sun fades on the white walls. The orange glow on the sunset leaves you sobbing, unable to regain your breath as you realize what this means you have missed. 

The unanswered texts and missed calls are no doubt from your fiancé. Half curious, half concerned about your whereabouts. The guilt eats you up from the inside out. Clawing its way through your chest as you curl further into yourself. 

This is how he finds you. 

You don't hear the quiet open and close of the room door, or his footsteps muffled on the carpet. So, you startle when his hand touches yours. Before he says anything he works to release your fingers from the death like grip you've taken on the duvet. “Flex your hand for me, darling? There you go”. He's quiet and calm. You don't deserve it. “How are you feeling?” He asks, the back of his hand pressing to your cheek and then your forehead, checking for a fever. 

“I'm sorry,” you tell him, “I'm so fucking sorry”.

If he's taken aback by the cursing he doesn't show it. His brows crease as his expression becomes more concerned. “Have you been sleeping all day, love?” More tears flow now, “I'm sorry,” you repeat again, “I missed the race-- you were worried and I couldn't even show up--”

“I'm not worried about any of that right now, yeah?” He tells you, gently taking ahold of your wrist as he guides you to sit up. “Let's take care of you first”.

Your body falls forward, your face pressed to his stomach now that he's standing in front of you. His fingertips trace circles at the base of your neck, grounding you. As your breathing settles again he speaks, “let's get you in for a bath, we can get cozy, yeah? Have a meal. Have a chat”.

This time you nod, standing to follow him towards the bathroom. 

Bathed and wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe the world feels light even if just for the moment. “Tell me about your day?” You ask with your head on his chest, the stars shinning bright outside the windows once more. 

[aduckinpain]

The Ice and The Snow

(can't melt with each other near)

Tags: Loscar, Logan Sargeant centered, Logan Sargeant Character Analysis, Hurt/Comfort, Rookies handling their first year as mirrors of each other, Happy Ending, That one radio in Qatar with James Vowel, Las Vegas 2023 Grand Prix, the consequences of Qatar haven't left yet

Word Count: 2.7k

This work is also on AO3 under user roianamustang (me).

Eyes would blink open. Body wrapped in a soft, fuzzy blanket. The air cold, but the atmosphere warm. Winter had always felt special, with its holidays, weather, and new year resolutions.

With the snow. Gentle snowflakes descend slowly. Each one has intricate and unique details. Yet each one still falls down. Depending on where they land, they either melt, or they pile up. Stacked on top of each other, invincible to the human eye when they stand alone, but wondrous when they form their patchworks. It’s almost as if a needle is being thread, linking each one with the other.

But this link never happens so delicately. The snow's weight pushes on itself, causing it to get packed. The pressure never leaves, it just unifies them.

Living in Florida gets everyone accumulated to heat and humidity, so when winter starts knocking on windows, it is rare that the package that arrives with it, is made of fluffy whiteness. 

But snow can get deadly. It is slippery and wet. It builds up and always keeps on tumbling. It drags along everything in its path. It pulls.

An avalanche is a large amount of ice, snow, and rock falling down a slope, such as a hill or mountain. 

With 2023 starting, Logan felt like he was hit by an avalanche with no ground to stop him. He was stuck under layers of freezing temperatures. Tremors and shivers were expected. Ice involuntarily and unknowingly scraping his skin.

And he was trying so, so hard. He kept digging and pushing around. But he’s been there for some time. He can’t find a way out. He can’t see the light.

Which way is up and which way is down?

Please. I promise I can do this.

Being the first American to win an FIA Karting World Championship title since 1978, is a fact that Logan keeps close to his heart. Lets it rest there, coil around. Reassure.

Entering in 2015, opened up new pathways and a clear goal to aim for. So the years continued. Full throttle.

The snow kept falling. Piling up.

Snowmen were created, snowball fights were won. And in 2016, as a newly entered Formula 4 driver, he met Ice.

The ice was immovable and quiet, yet intimidating. Somehow it has always been there, yet it just showed up. 

The title was won with him standing as a solid third in the championship ranking. He was closer to the cold than to the trophies. 

Soon enough in 2018, Logan wasn’t achieving podiums anymore. He was achieving wins. The high was exhilarating, the slower he fell from each cloud, the more he appreciated the crisp, fresh air. But the clouds kept rising and without him noticing, the pressure was increasing. His ice left for a bit. He missed his comfort. After all, the cold keeps the snow from melting.

2019 was a year full of points and disappointments, but Logan didn’t let that deter him. His path was now drawn and he’d entered it with purple sectors. The wind had picked up a bit, kept changing the trajectory of the flakes, but the destination was clear. 

In 2020 the ice returned stronger than ever. The snow solidified with no chances of melting and plummeted to results. He ended up third in the championship. A result he added to the coil around his heart. His glacier won the championship, but the snow would catch up.

I promise you James, I will finish this race.

You have my word.

In 2021 Logan decided to take one more year of Formula 3, in hopes of achieving more, of having a more assured future. His ice felt like verglas, further away and much thinner. 

While he had ranked lower than the first time in the championship, a majority of the team's points were won by him alone. He’d worn his gloves and slowly packed the snow together.

Still, when he received the news of Williams' support, he could not believe it., it came as a surprise. Things were looking good, he was excited. A good F2 season would give him more chances to fulfill his dream, his goal, his future. 

He exited Prema’s building, while entering William’s and felt like a rime. Excited and cold, from the rapid freezing of the water around him. He wasn’t alone. Other drivers were there, his teammate was there, but most importantly, the snow touched its ice.

Oscar Piastri was an iceberg . Logan had never met someone quieter. But Oscar didn’t have to act loud, he was loud. His presence screamed hard-work and talent. A champion in F3, that people still underestimated. People seemed to warm up to him with a bit of time, but no one could deny the ruthless gleam in his eyes. Oscar didn’t just come for a win or a road to F1. Oscar was here to be champion. 

So the hail picked up the pace. He couldn’t be beaten easily. He’d make it a challenge. 

The snow cascaded down, each day with a new speed, with a greater intent. Pieces of ice were caught in its plunge. 

Oscar became an intricate part of Logan’s life. Whether he liked it or not the videos and the activities brought them together. The ice kept the snow cold. Logan felt safe, calm. 

The boys spent time together playing on their PlayStations, looking at each other’s simulator results and laughing at jokes with the team. Nothing, however, could beat their quiet nights. 

Being with Oscar made Logan feel serene, if he didn’t want to talk, they just wouldn’t talk. If he wanted to rant, Oscar Piastri and those stupid big brown eyes of his would cling onto every sentence, every word. Logan felt listened to. He felt important. Sheltered, guarded. 

When he was with Oscar, the wind fell silent, the snow fell slowly, softly. It never melted. It got cradled.

Oscar was the Champion of the 2021 F2 season, and no matter how annoyed Logan wanted to be, the pride surging through his chest overwhelmed him. Logan was second anyways, he’d bind for his time. The only thing that this season’s results assured him, was that the snow and its ice would meet again. 

This time in F1. This time competing in their dream.

So while Oscar awaited his turn as a reserve driver for Alpine, Logan went through another season. This time with an ultimatum. If he managed to receive the correct amount points necessary for a Super License, his next year would be in a Formula 1 car, alongside Alexander Albon. 

Coming fourth in the championship allowed him to get his license. What more could he want in life?

During this season however, his ice wasn’t there. Now usually, that would be okay, however the few times they called, texted or even met up, Oscar would seem dim, tired, unsure. Not physically, no. He felt defeated, confused. Alpine had promised him a lot of things yet, there he stood, jobless, dreamless. So this time Logan packed the snow, made a fort, an igloo, anything to protect the ice. 

This is maybe, why he was so surprised when Oscar called him at 1 AM one night, something he doesn’t like to do generally, only to tell him the news. 

@OscarPiastri

I understand that, without my agreement, Alpine F1 have put out a press release late this afternoon that I am driving for them next year. This is wrong and I have not signed a contract with Alpine for 2023. I will not be driving for Alpine next year.

8:00 PM · Aug 2, 2022

44.2K Reposts 50.7K Quotes 386K Likes 4,282 Bookmarks

Next year, his ice will be orange.

Next year, his ice will have his snow.

The year started and while Sargeant realistically knew the potential of a Williams car, it still overwhelmed him. Or underwhelmed him. 

It whelmed him.  

Getting used to an F1 car was different. The step from F2 to F1 was supposed to be gradual, seamless. It was neither of those. 

Every race was a disappointment. At first he had hopes, he’d get used to the car or the car would be good enough to at least go near points. The longer time went on, the more he yearned, the more he lost. Disappointment coursed through his veins.

He was tired. 

At himself.

While at the beginning he could reason with the prospect that he was a rookie and looked at Oscar who was going through the same thing, albeit with more drama, that could not be an excuse anymore after the summer break. 

The ice was growing.

The snow was melting.

The avalanche was nosediving. 

I will show you I can do this, please. I promise you I will.

Each weekend felt like the shards of ice were slipping away from his fingers, or digging deep into the blizzard. Logan started growing quiet, reluctant. He’d seen the jokes, laughed with some even, but what got to him was the comments. 

This year, F2 drivers were chosen to drive an F1 car as a test. They got good results. 

This year, Liam Lawson, his past teammate, stepped foot in an F1 car, passed Yuki Tsunoda, got points and beat Max Verstappen to Q3.

This year, after the summer break, Oscar Piastri was breaking records and expectations alike. He was loved more by the second and gradually carved his way into being McLaren’s greatest choice and Alpine’s greatest failure. 

This year, Logan Sargeant was consistent. For a full season, he had managed to accumulate no points and be outqualified by his teammate in every race. 

His seat was being wasted. All the years of hard work and achievements, reduced to water. Melted. 

It all plunged in Qatar.

Any time someone bothered to use his face on social media, it tended to be followed by two things.

What the fuck is a kilometer, a joke which he had to admit, at first was funny.

And the eagle. 

The eagle was supposed to represent the USA. His home, his safe space. He was supposed to represent where he came from. Give it meaning and value in this sport. Yet at every moment that passed, he felt two sharp talons digging onto his shoulders. Blood dripped down. The weight of this apex predator was bringing him to his knees. He was melting. He sank.

He didn’t ask for this. He just wanted people to be proud.

He just wanted Oscar to be his equal.

He missed Oscar.

He didn’t deserve Oscar.

Logan had given up on setting expectations for himself a long time ago, so the Grand Prix started and he went along with the flow.

Entering the car, he remembers making a joke about the weather. After all, Qatar was known for its intense heat. But nothing could prepare him. Nothing could prepare anyone.

Sweat dripped down his face, fogged up his helmet, sticking each strand of hair to his balaclava. Maybe it wasn’t the fog, because with a sudden jolt, Logan realized his vision was getting blurry. The content in his stomach had been swirling around for some time now, a sensation which only aided to his growing discomfort. Every muscle ached. He could feel every tendon tense in his body. There was a weight pushing down on him. Packing him up.

Every turn he could feel the effects of the G-force. It felt intensified, worse. His hands shook around the steering wheel. He was scared for a moment. He blinked.

He opened his eyes again.

He had blacked out. For a moment sure, but he had blacked out in a car going over 250 km/h.

Lap: 23/57 SAR: 1’29.298

Sargeant: I’m feeling pretty sick. I’ll be alright.

Jego: Okay. Zhou 1.5 behind. Focus on your lap times.

Lap: 26/57 SAR: 1’34.588

Sargeant: I’m not feeling well at all.

Jego: Okay, understood. Are you happy to continue, question?

Sergeant: Yeah.

Lap: 27/57 SAR: 1’53.468

Jego: Are you feeling okay? Are you happy to continue, question?

Sargeant: Let’s keep going.

Jego: Okay.

Sergeant: I feel like I might throw up.

Lap: 32/57 SAR: 1’28.230

Sargeant: I’m not doing well, mate. Fucking hell.

Jego: Can you continue?

Lap: 33/57 SAR: 1’28.804

Vowles: Logan, you’ve fought a brave day, but let’s bring it in and call it a day. Let’s look after you.

Sargeant: James, I promise you I can do this.

Vowles: Alright, I’ll leave it to you, buddy.

Sargeant: You have my word

Lap: 39/57 SAR: 1’29.587

Sergeant: I don’t feel well man.

Jego: Are you retiring, mate? Please confirm.

Sergeant: I don’t know.

Jego: If you’re feeling unwell, you retire. Your call, buddy. Doing opposite to Hulkenberg otherwise, opposite to Hulkenberg otherwise.

Lap: 40/57 SAR: 1’51.661

Jego: Racing Bottas on pit exit. You’re the one making the call if you want to retire or not, Logan. There’s no shame in retiring if you’re feeling unwell.

Sergeant: Yeah, I need to stop. I’m stopping. I’m stopping.

Jego: Okay. Okay. Okay. We will stop. Box, box, retiring the car.

He doesn’t remember much after that.

He remembers anger, sadness, frustration and hands keeping him upright. Getting out of the car was a struggle. He could finally breathe.

He turned his head to one of the TVs in the garage and saw a blurry orange passing by.

He let go.

He came to for a moment, only to see bright lights and white walls. Slowly rising, he managed to sit upright. The room swiveled, or maybe he did. 

He felt dehydrated.

James Vowel entered the room, and for the first time that day, Logan broke down.

He didn't need water to cry. He had melted.

Oscar’s sprint win and second podium and Logan’s fifth DNF. Things to be celebrated, obviously. 

Oscar is not a party person, but having a legendary weekend is bound to make any man break character. That is why Logan refrained from texting him. Closed his phone.

He went back on an old promise. He was having a hard time, sure, but he wasn’t going to let it soil Oscar’s success. He deserved it.

At least that’s what he was trying to convince himself with.

The phone's screen lit up the darkened room. He typed.

You have a new message.

LS: Hey

Oscar Piastri picked up his jacket, bid goodbyes and left.

Wrapped under the covers, Logan didn’t even hear the knocking. What brought him back to reality, is his phone suddenly ringing and shaking the bed.

‘Open the door, mate.’ Logan blanked for a bit, got up, wore his slippers and opened the door. Hands shaking. Exhaling

Oscar Piastri in the flesh was standing before him, remarkably less drunk than he had anticipated. 

An eyebrow was raised and he moved out of the way. 

Before he realized, he felt the wood of the bed frame dig into his back. On his left, stood an iceberg. 

In the quiet.

His mind so loud, he didn’t even hear Oscar the second time he spoke, call out to him.

To be honest, he didn’t think he had more in him, yet the tears flowing down his cheeks were adamant to prove him wrong. 

Each breath that escaped him was held in cold hands, protected. 

As if he knew everything, Oscar reassured. Whispered.

No, it wasn’t his fault.

No, he wasn’t bothering him.

No, it’s completely normal and fair to feel what he’s feeling with everything that is happening.

Never, ever assume his opinions. Of course he wanted to be there.

Because Logan was a priority. He held importance.

He was important. 

The snow froze to a comfortable temperature. Its ice was encased around him.

Las Vegas.

The land of the lucky, impulsive and very, very bright and shiny lights.

Finally at home.

He’d done better these past few races. Even got points in Austin. By pure luck, sure, but points were points and Logan was not complaining. And this track was new to everyone.

And according to everyone, loved by no one.

People's expectations were all over the place.

Friday came and went. Their tyres destroyed, even in a low grip track.

Saturday came. Saturday did not leave.

Qualifying.

P6 and P7.

With Sainz’ penalty, P5 and P6.

Logan was P6. 

James was proud.

Alex was proud.

Oscar went up to him immediately, proud.

Logan was proud.

It may be a small step, but the avalanche had stopped and the clouds were liberating the snowflakes. Small and new, still unique, still falling. Landing on top of soft ice. The sun shined but nothing melted.

Logan smiled.

-End-

Please note that no matter how much I am writing here, it is all artistic speculation of what Logan himself has decided to show the world. Do not forget that these drivers are real people.

A short analysis yay:

The obvious things first, Logan is the Snow and Oscar is the Ice.

Verglas, a thin coating of ice or frozen rain on an exposed surface.

Rime, frost formed on cold objects by the rapid freezing of water vapor in cloud or fog.

The eagle is the vague legacy the America has put on Logan's shoulders and he feels like he is failing it.

The Qatar radio is completely accurate as I thought it displayed accurately how hopeless Logan sounded and probably felt

His future may be unsure, but for now things are improving.

This piece is 2,777 words I felt like that is a great omen to Las Vegas

I got emotionally attached to an american and I have no excuse besides that he actually sounds so sweet. He's just so.....american you get put off by it.

Honestly, I think this may be my weakest one. Be it because of the lack of Logan content online or just wanting to hug the dude, I needed to write something but I can't say I am the proudest. However I have decided that if it took time to write then I will post anything.

Thank you so much for reading! It would mean a lot if I managed to get some reposts, comments or liked!

If you like this, I have written more stories that can be found on my Formula 1 masterlist. Including: Lestappen and Landoscar with more to come. If it manages to spark your interest, please go support those as well!

[cheriladycl01]

James Vowles Masterlist

All of my James Vowles works

Oneshots

The night we first met

[miloformula123fan]

Could you do SMAU for James Vowles with baker!wife reader? He always gushes about her whenever he talks to someone/inquires. Everyone could tell how proud he is of her and how much they love each other. Bonus: Alex and Logan do the same. Fluff and cute. You decide how it goes. Thanks!! :))

ahhh i loved this fic so much

also thank you so much to @lorarri who sent me these smau templates, these fics would not be possible without them :)

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

james vowles x wife!baker!female!reader

Jv.f1  - to my darling wife, thank you for your constant support - i could not do this without you

y/n.y/l/n - proud of you darling, from now until forever

Alex_albon - if you had told me at the start of the year that we would get P5 in Silverstone, I think even James would have laughed. Massive thank you to the team and a massive shoutout to y/n.y/l/n , without those strawberry tarts this wouldn’t have been possible.

Logansargeant - happy to announce I’ll be staying at Williams next year, thank you so much williams and thank you y/n.y/l/n for the celebration cake.

---

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @pear-1206

[lokideservesahug]

Do you write for team principals? If yes, who? Thanks!! 😊

Hmm... I'm not entirely sure.

I would do Mercedes (atp who doesn't) because I actually know some stuff about Toto. I'd even do Susie as well if anyone would ever want that (because she is one hell of a woman).

I think the only nos I have atp are: Fred (because I would never be able to see that man as anything other than a playful, fatherlike figure) and Christian because I just don't feel comfortable with that and I don't think it's my place to make any content to do with him...

As for the others, we'll it varies but here we go:

• Mike Krack- I'd be down and know a decent amount about him as an AM girl.

•Andrea Stella- Meh why not. Don't know much about him but I see the vision.

•James Vowles- This man is on thin ice... but with a good animal request then I might give it some thought.

•Tps for Sauber, Alpine, Vcarb and Haas- I know nothing about any of them like at all so it would be a stretch but similar with James... I've seen Ayao Komatsu in a few tik toks and he seems like such a sweetheart so I'd be down for that!

[landoom]

tagged by @wisteriagoesvroom to post a no context snippet:

While he waited for Logan, James had imagined his reaction. He was expecting sadness and disappointment. He was hoping for anger and rebellion. He never thought he would get absolutely nothing. Logan is sitting on the bed, feets tucked under him like he always do. He’s looking at the non-descript painting on the wall. His eyes are empty, his body is immobile. “Logan?” James asks gently.  He knows the American has heard his explanation. He knows he’s understanding what his going on. So why isn’t he reacting? Finally, Logan moves. He turns his head and looks directly at James. “Fuck me.” “What?” James is sure he’s heard that wrong. “I said… Fuck me.”

@jolandax13 @twinkodium @celientjeee @nyoomfruits and anyone else who want to do it :-)

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Would you consider writing for other team principals? If yes, who??

I think i would write for all the team principals. Accept for Christian Horner. I would write Reader Daughter Horner but no reader x Horner. I just am not a fan. Everyone else don't be shy to ask for a fic regarding the drivers or team principals.