i was tagged by the LOVELY @dwarvenchords to participate in WIP Wednesday Monday :) shoutout to my homie numba 1 for real
instead of posting a WIP, I'm actually gonna post a fic that I started during Miami that I know will definitely never be completed (unfortunately) which is based entirely on lando last year saying "I'll have to buy a drink for whoever caused that safety car" aka Logan :)
so please enjoy 2k words of semi-awkward norgeant in Miami :)
Lando Norris (F1) 1d ago
Hey m8, this is out of the blue but i still owe you a drink from last year. hmu
—————
Logan feels… Stiff. Taxidermied, maybe, sitting on the foot of his bed and rubbing his eyes like it'll wipe away the grief that has gathered along his lash line.
He doesn't know why he's here, or why he accepted the invite at all. He supposes Formula 1 realized that having an all American star is good for marketing, or something.
Logan should have said no.
—————
Lando Norris (F1) 1d ago
I flew in a bit early, so we have a few days if you need time to think about it
Lando Norris (F1) 1d ago
I get it if you want to stay away from the track. I’ll find somewhere away from there if you'd prefer it
—————
The feeling of being in a hotel again is strange. Logan is still travelling a decent amount, but he's been booking Airbnbs and crashing with friends on those occasions. Hotels always leave him feeling… Itchy.
He realizes he should probably text Oscar, tell him that he'll be mingling around in the paddock, that maybe they could find time to hang out, play padel, or whatever Oscar is into nowadays, now that he's more of a stranger than anything.
Logan kind of feels like a stranger to himself, too.
—————
Logan Sargeant 6h ago
Shouldn't you be asking Magnussen instead?
—————
Scanning his pass and walking through the gates is all too easy, all too familiar, guided by an aspect of his muscle memory he wishes he didn't have.
It hasn't even been that long since his last race; eight months, thirty-six weeks, two hundred and fifty something days– Logan stopped counting around the one hundred and ninety mark– so he has no idea why it feels like everything should be covered in a hazy black fog.
It's not, though. Everything is startlingly vivid.
From the paddock and the placements of the hospitalities, the only thing that really feels different are the clothes he's wearing, and the positions of the teams in the pitlane.
Hell, even the way the cameras acknowledge him is the same; like he's an accessory, a handbag to be featured on the newest installment of Kym’s ‘handbags of the paddock', snuck in alongside a race car shaped bag and whatever animal clutch Lily is carrying around this week.
The way he ignores the shutters of their cameras is all the same, too.
—————
Lando Norris (F1) 1h ago
Naw m8, he's way too old. Plus he's in like, France or whatever right now
Lando Norris (F1) 1h ago
Also you get home race benefits. Just think about it, yeah?
—————
Muscle memory leads Logan directly to the Williams hospitality.
He feels like a fucking idiot, stopping so suddenly and turning on his heel, taking avoiding action even though it is pitifully obvious where he was going originally.
RB gave him a pass for the weekend. Haas, too, but that invite is only for the race day itself, so Logan shakes himself and starts heading towards the RB hospitality.
Thankfully, it's just across the way from Williams, so maybe his blunder is a little less obvious. He's sure the photographers appreciated the shot, though.
—————
Lando Norris (F1) 30min ago
I found a few places that look pretty good tell me what you think
Lando Norris (F1) 30min ago
Your a local so you'll probably have opnions
Lando Norris (F1) 30min ago
[Link]
Lando Norris (F1) 29min ago
[Link]
Lando Norris (F1) 29min ago
[Link]
—————
Everybody in RB is overwhelmingly kind, welcoming Logan into the garage like he's an actual person, an actual racer, and not a faceless Barbie doll with the words ‘discontinued model’ sharpied across his body.
The mechanics talk to him about the car and the incoming upgrades, and they talk in a way that is obviously intelligent, not dumbed down or babied for the sake of making sure that Logan understands.
And talking to Liam is nice. They hadn't gotten the opportunity to race against each other again last season, a disappointment that Liam actually took the time to verbalize at the time, sending Logan a text just following the news, right after Zandvoort.
Isack is lovely too, pulling Logan into a hug like they're lifelong friends. For the first time all week, the dread in Logan's gut finally fades a little.
—————
Logan Sargeant 12s ago
[Link]
Logan Sargeant 12s ago
It's not somewhere you suggested, but I've been to this place before and it's pretty good. I'm free any time tomorrow after 3pm
—————
Logan exits the RB garage with enough courage to pop his head into Williams, peeking around, tentatively looking for someone specific.
All he finds are a few engineers– his engineers– and then Carlos standing off to the side, headset atop his head as he gestures towards a few monitors.
Logan is, unfortunately, not subtle enough to sneak in and out unnoticed, because a few of the guys spot him and call him over, toothy grins on their faces as they clasp hands with Logan, pulling him around and patting him on the back hard enough to make him wince.
Despite the bile rising in his esophagus, it's nice to feel so welcomed, to be reminded that there were at least some people rooting for him before it all went to shit.
Carlos comes up to him not too long after, headset now around his neck. They exchange pleasantries, somewhat pinched conversation about the team and how it's going. Logan swallows down the urge to ask about Alex.
Before he leaves, he wishes Carlos luck. It tastes metallic on his tongue.
—————
Lando Norris (F1) 2s ago
Huh. I saw this place but i didn't think it was your style
Lando Norris (F1) 2s ago
Cool
Lando Norris (F1) 1s ago
I can get there at like 5
Seen
—————
Logan has already finished his food by the time Lando gets there.
He seems a little flustered, like he wasn't expecting to be eating at a burger joint, let alone a burger joint with private tables. Hell, even Logan always found it a little absurd, but you won't catch him complaining about a little extra anonymity.
Lando tosses his keys into the booth seat before climbing in. “This place does reservations?” He leans in close to say it, like it's some kind of secret.
Logan huffs. “Yeah, it's Miami, everywhere does reservations,”
“And you paid for that?”
“Yeah?” Logan says a bit obviously, not really understanding what Lando means by that. Like he said, the privacy is nice.
Lando doesn't seem to know what he meant either. That, or he's feeling weirdly shy right now, because he just shrugs before picking up the menu.
A few solemn seconds tick by, and the entire time it is abundantly clear that Lando is definitely not reading the menu.
He tosses it back on the table with a clatter.
“You realize I can't eat, like, any of this right?” Lando quips, a humorous sort of annoyance to his voice.
Logan shrugs. “You should try being retired,” he says, flashing a grin in his direction before stuffing another fry into his mouth.
Thankfully, it has the intended effect; Lando laughs. Genuine and shining, not one of those pr trained things that are painful and obviously just to appease the cameras. Logan is glad he hasn't lost the ability to tell the difference, even all these years later.
“How's that going, by the way? Your… Retirement, or whatever,” Lando asks, finger picking idly at the corner of the laminated menu, and his eyes search Logan's frame for a while, like he's trying to find the answer before Logan says it.
He's always been like that, quick and snappy, always craving to be one step ahead of people, guessing what they're going to say, even if they're a complete stranger– Logan supposes he isn't far from one, by now.
He shrugs, narrowly avoiding making a face down at his basket of fries. “It's fine,” it's all he says, and he feels sick at the pride that bubbles in his chest at the way Lando fidgets, obviously uncomfortable by the blunt reply.
“What did you mean ‘this place isn't my style'?” Logan asks out of the blue. It's mostly just to fill the silence, but also he did think it was a strange thing to say considering he's American and that's like, one of the only things Europeans know about Americans– they like burgers. That and guns, and freedom. But mostly burgers.
Weirdly enough, Lando seems to flush a bit at the sudden questioning.
“Uh, ‘s just that you always seemed, like… Refined, growing up. Like, more sophisticated than other Americans,”
Logan quirks his brow. “And you based that on, what, the two other Americans you knew at the time?” He jabs playfully, a laugh tickling the edge of his words.
Lando sputters a bit. “I dunno! It was just- a vibe, okay,” he says, slowly gaining confidence (and volume) to his voice as he speaks.
They chuckle to themselves a bit longer before lapsing into silence again. This time, it's considerably more charged than before, tension obvious in the air as they both gear up to say something.
Lando starts speaking first, but Logan doesn't hear him over the sound of his own voice, and so they get stuck like that, looking at each other over the table and waiting for the other to speak first.
After a while of staring, Lando scoffs.
“You go first,”
Logan huffs a laugh through his nose. “I was just wondering if this was you and Max trying to get me to do something,”
Lando's brows draw together, lip quirking in a way that makes Logan want to flick him in the mouth.
“Fewtrell,” Logan specifies sharply. “Trying to get me to do something for Quadrant,” he reiterates.
“Oh,” Lando drawls out, face lighting up with understanding, before suddenly twisting into something indignant.
“No, what? Max didn't put me on this,” he continues, tone suddenly hazardous, like he's offended that Logan thought Max might be involved in this at all, even though it really isn't a far reach in the slightest. “Did you think this was just an, I dunno, negotiation thing?” He asks next, tone spitting acid.
Logan simply shakes his head, raising his eyebrows in a way that he hopes conveys innocence, honesty.
Lando relaxes a little, at that. “Okay, good. I just… I don't want you to think I just want like, content out of you, or something,” he pauses for a short second, obviously considering something.
“I mean, it would be good for Quadrant– people love you, mate, but that's not… I just want to be friends, have some drinks, not… talk business,” he accentuates the last part with a jeering sort of tone.
Logan tries not to let the shock he's feeling show on his face. For the longest time, ‘Lando Norris' and ‘friend’ never exactly fit in the same category, and it really never seemed like they would.
But, here they are, sitting in an isolated corner of some greasy burger joint just down the shore, talking to each other and bantering. When he puts it like that, it sure sounds like something that friends would do.
Logan doesn't even get to respond before Lando is talking again.
“Whatever, it doesn't matter,” his tone has taken a sudden toxic shift, like he's annoyed he had to make the specification at all. “I still owe you that drink, and you're done eating, so c'mon,”
Logan watches Lando stand up and wipe his lap off even though he didn't eat a crumb of anything.
Lando stares at him for a while.
“I have to pay,” Logan says dumbly, pointing down to his empty plate and just waiting for the reaction.
Lando’s face flips through a million different emotions as he stands there, grimacing down at Logan, who is sat in a grungy booth seat and looking right back up at him.
Eventually, they both break, and Lando’s face finally settles on a constipated sort of glee, like he forgot that Logan was capable of having humor, that Logan could drag that kind of response out of him.
And it feels nice, giggling together like kids again.
—————
i will be tagging.. @pinacolada-posts @23fallencomets and @thepoetsarentjust to post anything from their WIPs :) xoxo
(i will also be tagging @norgeant for... obvious reasons. rarepair fans must stick together yk yk)
Warnings/Tags: fem lando, fem oscar, pegging, light angst
***
Logan picks Lando up at a club. When she directs him back to the sorority house where Oscar lives, he nearly dumps her on the curb and leaves her there.
“My ex—” Logan starts to tell her, but he stops when he sees her eyebrows raise, her hand on the door handle, one foot in the gutter. “You’re gonna have to sneak me in somehow,” he finishes lamely. It’s been long enough since he and Oscar split—he never calls them break-ups, because that’s not what they are, not really—that his hand just isn’t cutting it anymore.
Lando agrees to sneak him in. She texts Logan after a good ten minutes, during which he’s done nothing but sit behind the wheel of his truck and question all his life choices, and she tells him to go through the side gate and meet her at the back door.
It’s pitch black in the backyard, which makes Logan feel like he’s going to trip over something in the dark and get himself mistaken for a home intruder and then shot by someone in one of the neighboring houses, but somehow, he manages to make it all the way around to the sliding glass door under the patio unscathed. It helps that he knows his way around already, he thinks to himself as he sidesteps a sun-lounger he must have fucked Oscar on at least half a dozen times.
Lando is waiting for him just inside the kitchen. She grabs his arm as he steps inside, putting a finger over her lips—as if he needs any reminder to keep quiet.
From the sounds Logan can hear coming from the living room, some of the girls are watching a horror movie. A loud noise makes both he and Lando jump as they head up the stairs together; Lando has to stifle a laugh as she turns to take in Logan’s wide-eyed features.
Logan holds his breath as they pass by Oscar’s room in the upstairs hallway.
Lando’s room is at the other end, far enough away that Logan isn’t worried about being overheard. By Oscar, at least. He doesn’t care as much about the other girls in the adjacent rooms on either side of Lando’s.
As soon as Lando opens the door for Logan, he barrels inside, throwing himself onto her bed with a sigh of relief.
Lando doesn’t look impressed by Logan’s enthusiasm. She hasn’t seemed that impressed by anything he’d tried on her all night, from buying her a drink to practically dry humping her on the dancefloor. He’d admittedly been a little surprised when she suggested that he take her back to her place, but he wasn’t about to say no after spending the better part of half an hour desperately grinding his half-hard dick against her ass.
“So,” Lando says, nonchalantly leaning against her dresser, hip popped in a way that draws Logan’s eyes from her cleavage to the scandalously short hem of her dress.
Logan stares back with a questioning expression. “I figured we weren’t going to talk about it,” he tells her, assuming that the reason she hasn’t made a move yet is because she wants to discuss the inherent messiness of fucking her sorority sister’s ex. Or whatever Logan is right now.
“Oh, I don’t care about that,” Lando replies dismissively. “I was just wondering—have you ever tried anal before?”
Logan stares at her and blinks a few times. “Yeah?” he finally replies. “Are you saying you want me to fuck you in the ass?” It’s not exactly the sort of thing he was banking on when he went looking for a random hookup, but Logan supposes there’s no reason to look a gift horse in the—well, ass.
“Not exactly,” Lando says with a shrug, but she doesn’t elaborate further. “Take your clothes off.”
Logan scrambles to comply. He likes when girls take charge in bed, when they boss him around, tell him what to do, how to make them feel good. Oscar likes—liked it when he let her use him to get off, let her set the rhythm, let her call the shots.
Lando reminds him of Oscar in a lot of ways, that same intense energy hiding under a thin veneer. In Oscar’s case it was deadpan nonchalance; with Lando, a playful detachment that had given way to domineering neediness as soon as Logan had gotten a hand under her dress in the cab of his truck.
Logan is almost fully hard by the time he shimmies out of his jeans and tosses his sweat-damp t-shirt by the wayside. He reaches down to cradle his balls as Lando walks over to the bed, but she slaps his hand away before he can get the relief he’s craving. So it’s like that, then.
But even after Lando peels off her dress and her panties, she pays Logan little mind. She makes a show of it to start, reaching up to play with her nipples while Logan stares up at her open-mouthed and slack-jawed, barely containing the saliva pooling under his tongue as he drinks in the full extent of her taut body, lean and wiry where Oscar is softer, broader.
When Lando turns around again and goes back to her dresser, Logan doesn’t think much of it. They need a condom, even for anal, and lube, obviously, but when Lando comes back and drops down onto the bed next to him, she only has one of those items clutched in her hand.
In the other is a garishly purple dildo attached to a leather harness. And even Logan isn’t so stupid that he can’t put two and two together.
“I’ve never…” Logan says, panicking a little. Shouldn’t Lando have told him she was into that sort of thing right from the start?
“Do you want to?” Lando asks, simple as that.
Her expression remains cool, composed, but behind it, Logan can just detect a glimmer of something else, something feral and hungry. Something that sparks a flicker of heat in the pit of his belly as he stares at the strap-on in her lap.
It’s long enough, thick enough, that Logan can almost imagine what it would feel like inside him, and a part of him wonders what it would be like. He nods before he has time to second-guess it, and his stomach drops as a smirk cuts a curve across Lando’s face. It’s not an unpleasant feeling, more like the weightless feeling after a big drop on a rollercoaster. Logan is so hard now that it fucking aches.
Logan’s delirious with need by the time he’s on his stomach, legs spread, Lando three fingers deep inside him.
“Is that enough?” she asks, twisting her hand in a way that sends electric shocks shooting up Logan’s spine.
“Yeah,” he replies, slurring the words against Lando’s pillow. The fabric is damp from his wet-hot breath, and it brushes against his lips unpleasantly. He’s already too fucked out to care.
Logan thinks he should probably be embarrassed by how much he wants this, but it doesn’t matter if he wants it or not. Lando wants it, her pussy probably wet and throbbing just from fucking her fingers into him. It makes his dick even harder. He’d probably hump the mattress and come into her sheets if he could, but the feeling of Lando stretching him open is so all-encompassing that he can’t partition the part of his brain necessary to complete any kind of complex voluntary motor control.
Finally, Lando withdraws her fingers. Logan feels achingly empty for a moment, and then he feels the smooth tapered end of Lando’s strap butting up against where he’s soft and open. He breathes out slowly, closing his eyes, and waits.
But Lando doesn’t move.
“You have to tell me what you want,” she says after several seconds tick by. The tip of her strap edges inside of him by millimeters, not enough to do anything more than tease.
“I want what you want,” Logan says dumbly.
“You don’t know what I want,” Lando replies. There’s a hardness in her voice that wasn’t there before, and it makes the hair at the nape of Logan’s neck prickle.
“I…I don’t….”
If it was Oscar, Logan thinks, she would have fucked him until she got too horny to keep going. She’d get him so close that it wouldn’t take much more than her pussy sinking down on his cock for him to come inside her, and even after that, she wouldn’t stop. She’d keep riding him, wouldn’t let him get soft until she’d come, too. And then she’d fall asleep on his chest while Logan’s cock and ass throbbed like the aftermath of a bone-deep bruise, and he’d fucking thank her for it. He’d love her for it.
He wanted that, still. But maybe now he wanted something else, too.
“Can you…slow?” Logan asks, fighting desperately to get the words out. In his head, he’d envisioned Lando pounding into him hard and fast, rough enough that she could feel it, too.
The slow, slick slide of Lando sinking her strap into him until she bottoms out has Logan shuddering, his cock pouring precome onto Lando’s shiny satin sheets. It almost feels like she’s too deep, like she’s breaching some part of him that wasn’t meant for this—and the thought almost makes him laugh when Logan realizes there is no part of him that was meant for this.
Maybe that’s why it feels so alien to want it. Not wrong, per se, but strange, unfamiliar, like trying to describe a place he’s never been.
“Harder,” Logan decides after Lando withdraws, pulling almost all the way out before pausing to let him direct her. “I want it deeper. I want to feel it all the way inside.”
“Yeah?” Lando asks a bit breathlessly. She plunges into Logan again so hard that the harness feels like a leather paddle against his ass. She doesn’t rabbit in and out of him, instead spreading Logan’s legs even further apart with her thighs and grinding in deep.
She laughs a little when Logan lets out a groan that feels like it gets pulled out of him by force. He doesn’t know if he can come like this, even if he tried to rut against Lando’s bed, but the feeling of Lando’s cock spearing him open is so mind-numbingly good that he isn’t sure he cares. He thinks he could happily spend the rest of his life just like this, teetering somewhere on the edge of blacking out and coming so hard his balls explode, his body nothing more than a vehicle for the kind of pleasure he’s only ever been able to access when he and Oscar smoke enough weed that they lose a whole weekend doing nothing but fucking.
It doesn’t even feel fair to compare what he’s done with Oscar to this, because it’s not Oscar’s fault that Logan’s spent the entirety of their relationship convinced that doing whatever she wants is good enough for both of them. Maybe she doesn’t really know what she wants either. Maybe Lando should visit her next and obliterate her pussy with some other toy that Logan’s not even capable of conceiving of, and then when they both come down from their respective sex highs they can kiss and make up and fuck each other silly using their newly attained orgasm enlightenment.
“You should stop thinking so much,” Lando tells Logan as she pushes in deep again, going slow enough that he can’t help but feel every inch of it.
“I want—” Logan starts to say, but then stops. His face feels hot. He has to shove it all down. “Can you talk to me,” he asks in a stuttering voice. “I want you to talk to me,” he tries again, “while you fuck me.”
“What do you want me to say?”
Logan has to think about it. He isn’t pretending Lando’s a guy; it’s not like that. He likes knowing that a girl is doing this to him, making him feel this good. He wants the reminder. “Can you tell me what it feels like?” he asks. “For you?”
“When I fuck you?” Lando breathes, hot against the back of his neck as she grinds into him.
Logan nods against the pillow and jerks his hips back against her reflexively.
“You look so fucking hot like this,” Lando tells him. “Your ass is like, so stretched out, it’s gonna gape when I pull out. It’s making me so fucking wet.” She pauses then, sucking in a deep breath as she pulls out and then exhaling when she shoves back in. “I knew the second I saw you at the club that you’d let me do this to you.”
“How?” Logan asks in a garbled voice.
Lando doesn’t answer. “Fuck, can feel it grinding against my clit every time I fuck you,” she says instead. “I bet I could come like this.”
“Want you to,” Logan replies automatically.
“No.”
Lando keeps the same pace, the same slow steady rhythm that keeps Logan’s cock leaking like a faucet onto her sheets.
“Do you want to come?” she asks. There’s no assumption that Logan will, just the same question she’s been asking all night: does he want to?
Logan surprises himself when he shakes his head. He wants—he wants to get up. He wants to go to Oscar’s room. He wants to apologize for the shit he said.
He comes, then, without realizing. It isn’t until his body contorts in on itself, cock flexing against the hard clench of his abdomen that he even registers what’s happening, his ass spasming around the hard intrusion of Lando’s strap so deep inside him it feels like he could reach down his throat and meet it in the middle.
She doesn’t pull out until he asks. It takes Logan a long time to come down.
Logan expects to return the favor somehow, but after Lando wipes him (and her bed) down as much as she can, she tucks him in with a fresh blanket and leaves him there, turning off the lights on her way out of the room. She doesn’t come back at all that night and Logan sleeps better than he has in weeks.
When Logan wakes up the next morning to Oscar’s face staring at him from the other pillow in Lando’s bed, at first, he thinks he’s dreaming. It’s the cored-out ache inside him, still lingering from the night before, that tells him he’s not.
Good, he thinks as he rolls over to pull Oscar close. This is what he wants.
Lando is such a fox to me but I keep having to debate what Logan is, like obviously it's funny if he's a bald eagle bc 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸AMERICA🦅🦅🦅 and ya know he likes fishing
But... give me pigeon Logan or something, give me the lore of how rock doves were domesticated then just left or dog Logan bc he literally looks like a golden retriever. Idk I can't pick 🙏😭
Future me here: god dang pigeon logan got me in a chokehold! It was a half joke tbh but then I spent an hour and a half of my life looking for these! LOOK!
