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landhoehoehoe · 2 years

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blur the line - Logan Sargeant

Wow, when I started writing this in August I never would have thought that this story would torture me so much but it's finally here! (At least Part 1 of 3 lol) but dw, Part 2 is pretty much finished already and Part 3 just needs a little more fixing :)

Posting this today in honor of Logan's FP1 outing 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Song rec for this fic: Electric Love by BØRNS

Warnings: none, this part of the story is cute fluff with only a little bit of spice

Logan Sargeant x reader; As an F2 rookie you quickly get along with a specific American driver

“Y/n! Y/n, look here!”,

You were followed closely by the countless photographers as you made your way to the grid on the first race day of a new season.

But today wasn’t just the first race day of the season, it was also your very first race day in Formula 2 as Prema had signed you for this season, making you the only female driver in F2 currently.

Of course your excitement was over the roof, but you’d already prepared yourself for the scrutiny you’d be under.

It would be crucial where you’d finish, not only for the team but for your own mentality as well.

You wanted to show everyone out there that you were the best, that you deserved your seat in F2.

So naturally next to the excitement there was also a certain nervousness flowing through you as you walked over to your car for the first feature race of the season.

“Y/n!”, someone suddenly called out behind you. You turned around to see Logan Sargeant running towards you, his helmet already on his head.

You didn’t particularly know the Carlin driver that well, but he had been one of the first to welcome you to F2, introducing you to all the new faces you didn’t know.

“Good luck out there, you’re going to crush it.”, he smiled reassuringly, making you smile, too.

Something about his tone made you believe that he wasn’t just saying the words to make you feel better.

You just knew that he actually meant what he’d said and you immediately felt better. Because if Logan believed in you, that was one more person rooting for you.

“Thanks, good luck to you, too.”, you grinned, reaching out for his hand to give him a handshake.

As he walked away, you shouted after him:

“I’ll see you when I overtake you!”

He laughed, winking at you before turning around again.

“We’ll see about that!”

The interaction left you with a comfortable, warm feeling in your stomach.

Somehow Logan had managed to take away half your nerves and half your fears that something bad might happen.

You could climb into your car with more confidence now, the excitement and thrill of racing taking over as your hands gripped the wheel.

Leaving the pits, your teammate Dennis sent you another reassuring smile and soon enough your car stood lined up at P12. Not a bad qualifying result for your first time in F2, yet still not good enough to be able to play in the big leagues.

———

“Shut up, Fred! You try remembering that night first!”, Dennis laughed as he retold the hilarious events of a wild party night.

You sat next to Dennis, opposite Logan and Frederik.

The three of them had asked you to join their little Prema reunion dinner before the upcoming Monaco Grand Prix.

Even though you had only signed with Prema this year you’d immediately felt the strong bond between the boys so you had decided to go out with them.

However you were still glad that you could sit next to Dennis because you knew him the best out of all of them since he was your teammate.

Sometimes you could become rather shy, especially around such extroverted people like Dennis and Fred, who argued and laughed about everything.

When Dennis started describing Fred’s karaoke performance from one of their drunk nights, all of you laughed at Fred’s frown, him being the only one who couldn’t laugh about the story.

“You know I’ve actually once heard that-”, you started, but got cut off quickly by an annoyed Fred who reached out to slap Dennis’ head.

“Shut up, Dennis! Or do you want me to tell them about your bathroom incident?”, apparently Fred hadn’t heard you saying anything because his whole focus laid on Dennis, who crossed his arms in a challenging way now.

You shut your mouth again, unsure about whether to keep talking and boring them with your story.

“If you want to go there, please do. But then I can’t promise to keep your street-sign-stealing incident a secret anymore!”, Dennis shot right back at Fred with a wicked grin on his face.

The two of them were so caught up in their argument that you decided to look elsewhere, until suddenly you noticed Logan’s gaze resting on you.

When your eyes met he sent you a shy smile.

“Keep talking, y/n. I’m listening.”, he encouraged softly, completely ignoring the other two drivers at your table.

A smile crept onto your face. Logan had listened to you.

Once again it evoked a sudden warm, comforting feeling in you.

You leaned forward towards him so that he could actually hear you over the other’s bickering and he did the same, leaning in on his elbows.

His eyes were curious, showing you genuine interest, which made you stupidly happy for some odd reason.

“Well um.. I was saying that I’ve heard that when you’re drunk, your hidden talents come out.. so maybe Fred’s is singing karaoke.”

Logan’s smile grew wider until he broke out in a laugh, his soft eyes still fixated on you.

“But do you really believe that? I mean… I’ve heard Fred sing before and… it’s not pretty.”

Now you had to laugh, too, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Logan watched your movement carefully, his eyes following your hand.

“You’ve never heard him singing when he was drunk though, right?”, you retorted, making him frown in contemplation.

He thought about it for a second. The two brawlers next to you were now completely ignored by the both of you.

“That’s a good point. So what would you say is your drunk talent?”, he asked, leaning forward again.

Now it was your turn to think.

As your eyes wandered to the ceiling to think, you could feel his gaze resting on you, making you shift in your seat nervously.

“Definitely not dancing.”, you laughed as one specific incident came to your mind.

“Maybe cooking?”

Logan tilted his head as he gave you an intrigued look.

“I can make the best grilled cheese sandwiches when I’m drunk, I swear.”, you explained, pulling a laugh from him yet again.

“But not when you’re sober?”, he asked, still smiling.

“Hell no, keep me away from the kitchen for your own safety!”, you immediately replied, letting out another laugh.

“But if you ever need a grilled cheese at 3am, call me.”

Logan nodded, something inexplainable now lying in his eyes.

“I might have to take you up on that offer soon.”, he winked, smiling at you.

Your smile also grew wider, feeling as comfortable as ever around Logan.

Only then did you notice that Dennis and Fred had seemingly forgotten about their fight again, the two of them listening to you intently.

“What do you want?”, you asked Fred, an amused expression on your face.

“Nothing, I’m just observing you two love birds.”, Fred immediately grinned, wiggling with his eyebrows suggestively while Dennis joined in on his laughter.

You rolled your eyes, exchanging a shy glance with Logan who couldn’t help but smile.

“At least he listens to me when I talk.”, you replied with an accusatory look towards Dennis.

———

Come the next races, Logan and you grew more and more comfortable around each other, always magically finding each other in the paddock before races, which resulted in the pair of you becoming a beloved duo amongst the photographers.

“Hey, shorty, how are you doing on this fine day?”, Logan approached you from the side as you were walking through the paddock at the Austrian Grand Prix.

He was wearing a fancy pair of sunglasses and a blue Carlin shirt.

Of course, he looked as attractive as ever.

Immediately your face lit up at the sight of him.

No matter how nervous you were before a race, Logan somehow had the magical ability to take all the nerves away.

“Not everyone can be as tall as you, Slender Man. And I’m doing fine, what about you?”

Logan laughed at your remark and casually laid an arm around your shoulder to walk besides you. It caused a sudden electric wave to surge through your body.

“I’m really looking forward to this track. Spielberg will be my race, I guarantee you.”, he replied, angling his face towards the sun to enjoy the warmth with a confident grin on his face.

“Not if I overtake you.”, you were quick to respond, making him face you again, his arm still resting around your shoulders.

Just as he was about to reply, however, he saw something behind you and his whole body stiffed up instantly.

His arm fell from your shoulder as he cursed lowly under his breath.

Confused, you turned around to see the reason for Logan’s mood change: Photographers had spotted the two of you. Not again…

You sighed as you saw the Prema garage a few steps away.

“Well, good luck out there.”, you smiled at him softly.

“Thanks. You, too.”, he returned your smile, then started walking towards the Carlin garage before the photographers reached you.

Before you could enter your garage though, you heard your name being called.

“Y/n!”

You turned to where the voice had come from, only to see Logan standing in front of his own garage, already looking at you.

“I’ll see you when I overtake you!”, he shouted over the buzzing of the paddock with a cheeky smile on his face.

You couldn’t help but smile widely.

He’d used the tagline you usually used when you saw him.

“We’ll see about that!”, you shouted back, making both of you grin like little children.

The Austrian Grand Prix had been good. Very good.

So good that you almost couldn’t believe it was real when your race engineer shouted “P3!” into your ear over the radio.

This was your first time on the podium in F2.

As soon as you stepped out of the car, someone called your name.

“Y/n!”, you recognized his voice immediately.

Before you could even run to your team, Logan had already gained your full attention.

Simply by calling out your name he’d evoked the strong urge to hug him inside of you.

So you let the emotions overcome you and ran towards him.

He gripped you tightly when you fell into his arms and lifted you off the ground to spin you around.

You squealed, ecstatic laughter escaping your lips.

“That was a mega mega drive, y/n, holy shit!”, Logan exclaimed, his excitement levelling your own.

You sighed heavily when he put you back down after squeezing your waist once. A comforting warm feeling spread from where his hands had been touching you.

Only slowly did the realization sink in that you’d just driven into the Top 3.

The moment felt so unreal, you were almost certain you had to be dreaming.

“Thanks, you didn’t do so bad yourself, Sargeant.”, you winked at him, to which he replied with a confident smirk.

“Next time I’ll be overtaking you for P1, though.”, you added teasingly, earning yourself an amused eye roll from him.

“You wish…Still got a lot to learn, little one.”, he gracefully dodged your punch to the shoulder and excused himself to celebrate with his team, so you also went to where your team was waiting for you, with the biggest smile on your face.

Every interaction with Logan was just so comfortable and easy.

Later on the podium you couldn’t stop smiling.

The grin literally couldn’t be wiped off your face during the whole ceremony, but the part you were most looking forward to was still ahead of you: The champagne spraying.

Once the time had come, everyone on the podium steps popped their bottles open and tried spraying each other without getting too wet themselves.

“This is for calling me little!”, you shouted, taking joy in aiming the champagne right at Logan’s face.

Logan screwed his eyes shut and blindly sprayed his champagne everywhere.

“Oh you are so done.”, his voice sounded threatening, which made you gulp before you decided it would be the smarter move to make a run for it.

You squealed hysterically when he started chasing you around the podium, but couldn’t hold back your laughter at the same time.

The people standing below the podium simply enjoyed watching the wild goose chase.

Once again, you forgot about all the people watching the two of you, because all that mattered in this moment was Logan:

Logan, whose messy hair always fell right into his eyes.

Logan, whose beautiful green eyes got you lost so easily.

Logan, who made you laugh effortlessly to the point where you could forget about the rest of the world momentarily.

When he’d almost caught up to you, you saw the others leaving the podium from the corner of your eye and it gave you an idea.

Surely he wouldn’t dare spray the champagne if you were behind the podium where many other innocent people were around.

Quickly you bolted off the podium and already stopped running because you thought you’d be safe, but there was not a single soul behind the podium.

You heard Logan’s heavy breathing behind you.

“Got you, little one.”, he smirked while he came closer, holding his champagne bottle high in the air over your head.

“Where is everyone?”, you panted, still not believing that your plan hadn’t worked.

The corners of Logan’s mouth twitched.

“Right. I forgot this is your first podium. It’s normal that everyone leaves because otherwise they risk getting sprayed.”, he explained, a devilish grin on his face as he explained.

Your shoulders slumped. So much for your genius plan.

“Are you ready for the shower of your life?”, Logan stepped even closer to you, hovering the bottle above your head.

You looked from Logan to the bottle and back to Logan, before you finally accepted your fate with a shrug.

“Do it.”, you kept the eye contact with him as you said so.

That’s when you saw something else flare up in Logan’s eyes: a sudden change of heart perhaps?

His eyes got darker, causing you to gulp, not able to get another word out.

When had the atmosphere changed so drastically?

“Open your mouth.”, he ordered in a low voice, his eyes falling to your lips.

Confused, you furrowed your brows.

“What?”

“You heard me.”, his voice was raspy when he lowered the champagne bottle so that it no longer hovered above you.

Instead, it was now at the height of your mouth.

With one last look at him you hesitantly opened your mouth.

Keeping eye contact with you, one of Logan’s hands came up to tilt your chin slightly upwards.

Then he poured the champagne into your mouth and you swallowed it immediately.

You could basically feel his eyes burning into you and you felt slightly uncomfortable under his intense stare, but it also made him so incredibly attractive.

His hand under your chin, his eyes switching between your lips and your eyes.

God, you have never wanted to kiss a person so badly.

Logan softly pulled your chin towards him, making you fear you might faint right then and there.

Your heart was beating out of your chest so loudly by now that you were sure Logan could hear it, too.

Once you were close enough to feel his hot breath on your skin you didn’t dare breathe, a tingling feeling building in your stomach in anticipation.

“Finally! There you are! We wanna go celebrate, come on guys!”, Fred called out from behind you, ultimately destroying the moment.

Immediately Logan and you drove apart.

You almost wanted to sigh in disappointment when he quickly pulled his hand away from your chin as if he’d burned himself.

“We’re coming, we’re coming, relax!”, Logan shouted back, waving his friend off.

Then he returned his attention back to you, who was still processing what had just happened between the two of you.

In complete contrast to how he’d just devoured you with his eyes, he now gave you a shy smile.

“I’ll see you at the club, then?”, one of his hands nervously came up to the back of his neck while he tilted his head at you.

You could only nod.

“Sure. See you later.”, with a fogged up mind you walked away from Logan, who was trying to catch up to Fred.

“Since when is it important for you to be on time?”, you heard him ask the Danish driver.

“Since we all got points and Y/n got her first podium and you won another race?!”, Fred replied in a matter-of-fact tone before they disappeared out of your sight.

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nyoomfruits · 3 months

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hi ellie, you're one of my favourite authors of ever, even beyond the realm of fanfiction!! you are magic with words and story telling and i'm forever grateful that you write for a fandom that i read! could i please request for the settings prompt game landoscar and #13? thanks in advance!!!

13. a great ballroom during aan elegant party

Lando’s been listening to Alex and George squable about the correct pronounciation of the word ‘canapé’ for a good ten minutes when he finally says, “I think this is the year.”

George stops mid horrible French pronounciation. “The year of what.”

“The year of your mum,” Alex supplies unhelpfully.

”The year of this,” Lando says, gesturing around the ballroom they’re standing in. From the corner they’re tucked away in they can see the crowded dancefloor, the tittering girls and mama’s on the edges, the waiters with trays full of the aforementioned canapés and glasses of champagne. “The year I find my match.”

The music of the violen quartet in the corner is loud, and yet it is like you can hear a pin drop.

“A what,” Alex says, at the same time George makes a breathless little sound.

“I have been waiting for this moment all my life,” George says, sounding truly sincere, pulling a scroll out of his waistcoat. It unrolls and hits the floor with a quiet thud. “I have a list of all the eligible singles. Names, ages, occupations, parents occupations, side of the bed they prefer to sleep on,” George continues, scanning through his list.

“You scare me sometimes,” Alex says, rather deadpan.

“Ah!” George says, completely ignoring him. “Here. Max Emillian Verstappen.”

“I know Max,” Lando pipes up.

George ignors him, too. “Granted, he has that weird thing with Charles going, but if that doesn’t work out there’s a lot of money up for grabs here. Just imagine-“

Lando tunes him out, glances around the ballroom. He knew telling his friends would be a mistake. But he’s so goddamn tired of being alone, seeing everyone around him find their perfect match. He wants that too, wants someone to hold at night when it gets cold outside, someone who gets him, who makes him laugh, who he can just be himself around. High society is a burden at times. He just wants someone who understands that, who lifts that burden, if only just a little.

His eyes slide over the ballroom, over the girls in beautiful, colorful gowns, the guys in smart, gorgeous suits. And then they land on someone in the corner. He’s never seen the guy before, dressed in a rather simple plain suit with a swoosh of brown hair that looks artfully messy, a face that unremarkable yet Lando cannot stop looking.

He’s talking to a group of mamas, clearly making them laugh as they titter and fan their fans. One of them pushes her daughter forward, and he takes her hand, gracefully leads her to the dancefloor, where he glides along in a way that shows he knows what he’s doing. Yet Lando’s never seen him before.

So he turns to George. “Who’s that?” He asks, interupting George’s spiel about Carlos Sainz’s intricate hair routine.

George frowns. “That’s Oscar Piastri, don’t you remember him? He played cricket, too. Started late but was a real prodigy so by the time he got to our level he moved to Australia to try for real. Didn’t realize he was back.” George’s frown deepens. “I don’t have information on him yet, but give me a few days. Alex, wasn’t he friends with that guy you were sleeping with last summer? Logan something?”

“Sargeant?” Alex asks, shrugs. “Sure, I’ll ask.”

“Good,” George says. “We need a game plan. Maybe we can rendez vous back at my place in- oh my god Lando where are you going.”

Lando, having had enough of Alex and George’s chit chat, has decided it is time to get into action, and is now beeling for Oscar, who has since finished his dance, and is now talking to Frederik Vesti, looking relaxed and calm and laid back. ”Fred,” Lando says, clapping Frederik on the back jovially. “Jack’s looking for you, mate.”

“Is he?” Frederik asks, eyes bright, craning his neck around. “Oh, that’s. I’ll go find him.”

Frederik steps away then, leaving Lando in full view of Oscar Piastri, who’s just taking a sip of his drink and promptly lets it dribble all over his shirt when he spots Lando.

“Shit,” he says, clumsily dabbing at his shirt with a handkerchief. “Lando, I’m so sorry. I mean, uh. Mr. Norris. Lando Norris.” He says it a little in awe, a little breathless, and there’s a flush to his cheeks that wasn’t there before, not even when he as dancing.

Lando cocks his head. “Have we met?” He asks. Up close, Oscar is even cuter, with soft round cheeks and warm brown eyes. Lando’s never felt this intrigued about a person before.

“Oh,” Oscar says, awkardly scratching the back of his head. “Not, uh, really? I used to watch you play cricket, when we were younger.” When Lando doesn’t say anything, just raises an eyebrow, Oscar’s flush impossiblu darkens. “Not in a creepy way! Just uh. You were a few levels above me and like. Really good.”

Lando preens. He’s stopped playing cricket ages ago, but it’s nice to hear someone looked up to him like that. “Well, not creepy Piastri,” he says, enjoying the way Oscar stutters a little at that. “How about a dance then? For old times sake.”

Oscar’s eyes widen but he takes the outstretched hand, lets himself be led to the floor. The song is a slow one, and Lando relishes in the opportunity to put his hand on Oscar’s shoulder, let his other slide into Oscar’s, marvels at the way Oscar is slightly bigger yet his hands are so much smaller.

Oscar’s eyes don’t leave his for a second as they twirl around the ballroom, transfixed in a way Lando can’t explain, like he’s merely a moon circling Lando’s earth. It’s exilirating, being looked at like that, like he matters. Lando could get used to that, maybe. Would love to get used to that.

Lando licks his lips and Oscar’s steps falter, unnoticable unless you’re the one dancing with him, and Lando can’t help the grin that spreads across his face.

When the dance ends he bows at Oscar, never breaking eye contact, before making his way over back to George and Alex, feeling the prickle of Oscar’s eyes following him across the ballroom.

“That one,” he says, when he reaches his friends. “I want that one.”

#landoscar #mctwinks #twinklaren #vaguely bridgerton inspired #None of this is period accurate #drabbles #please note im not taking any more prompts rn!#ALSO PLEASE ANON THIS IS SO SWEET ILY

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